Fall From Grace	 Fall From Grace

 by Rushlight

  

 Author's website: http://www.slashcity.org/~rushlight

 Disclaimer: No harm, no foul.

 Author's Notes: The idea for this story was prompted by a comment Jeannie
Marie made on DSAD looong ago, so I'd like to thank her for the
inspiration. I'd also like to thank Beth and Jennie for their usual crack
beta job. And special thanks go to Beth for the discussion on plot ideas
and characterization, as well for the help on researching various
background details. Last but not least, thanks go to Ashinae, Frost, and
Vixenrouge for advice in the romantic use of the Italian language. :)

 Warnings: This story deals with some sensitive issues and contains a
graphic depiction of rape. Caveat lector. 

 

 

 Fall From Grace
 by, Rushlight 

 PART I: Initiation 

 Ben squinted against the dizzily revolving emergency lights that bled
across the driveway in front of him, making sure he kept his head well
below the level of the police vehicles that penned them away from the main
house. Beside him, Ray wiped a palm against the front of his slacks,
looking tense. 

 From somewhere nearby, a radio headset crackled, and a tinny voice
reported that the perimeter was secured. Glancing around, Ben felt his
heartbeat quicken as the members of the SWAT team shifted into position,
waiting for the order to move in. 

 The house was registered as belonging to a Mr. Henry Duval, although it
had recently been brought to the knowledge of the Chicago PD that aside
from the name on the deed, Mr. Duval didn't in fact seem to exist at all.
It had taken almost half a year's worth of investigation, but eventually
the connection between the fictitious Mr. Duval and a local criminal named
Harold Charles had been made. 

 Charles had been a thorn in the side of the Chicago Police Department for
as long as Ben had lived in the city. Therefore, it hadn't been much of a
surprise that this newest information on the Duval house had been met with
such enthusiasm. Charles was suspected of being involved in everything
from illegal drug sales to money laundering to the local chapter of the
underground white slave trade. 

 It was this latest charge that had gotten them authorization from the
mayor to go ahead with the raid. Somehow, somewhere, someone had dropped
the insinuation that a shipment of newly procured "slaves" had just been
dropped off at the house for distribution. It wasn't much, but it was
enough to get them a warrant. The Chicago PD had been trying to shut
Charles down for years, and now it looked like they were finally going to
get their chance. 

 The particular slave ring they'd been investigating operated as a sort of
forced prostitution, which was an idea that made Ben's stomach turn.
Bartering flesh as if it were just another form of currency... It was
difficult to believe that human beings could be so callous, but he'd
learned during his time in Chicago that anything was possible when it came
to the criminal element. 

 "Constable, I want you to stay here." The sound of Welsh's voice pulled
Ben away from his musings. The lieutenant's gaze was unusually intent as
he bent toward him. "You're just here to observe, so try to keep your head
down, all right?" 

 Ben nodded. "I'll do my best," he promised. He knew he wouldn't even have
been allowed to be here if he hadn't done so much of the background work
on this case with Ray. 

 Welsh looked less than pleased with his answer, but then the captain of
the SWAT team was calling for the advance. As usual, Ray was fairly
vibrating with impatience to be in on the action, but he kept his head
down beside Ben's while the initial assault on the house unfolded. 

 It was all over much more quickly than Ben was anticipating. Before he
knew what had happened, Charles was being led out of the house with his
entourage of enforcers and financial experts in tow, looking none too
happy with any of them. Ben watched with a curious feeling of detachment
as the man was loaded into the back of a police cruiser for transport to
the station. 

 He remained outside until the SWAT team came back out, signaling that the
interior of the house was clear. Ray had disappeared somewhere in the
ensuing confusion, so Ben took the opportunity to slip inside, knowing
that his experience with the details of the case would be useful in
sifting through the evidence inside the house. 

 The house was large and laid out in a series of open, interconnected
rooms that looked like they belonged in an expensive southern villa.
Apparently Mr. Charles had been fond of life's more material pleasures.
Ben took in the scene around him with a curious air and dodged the tangle
of uniformed officers that were pouring into the various dens and offices
to search for files and other clues about Charles's financial network. 

 Ben decided to leave them to it, and he angled toward the broad stairs
sweeping up toward the second floor. It was quieter up here, since the
investigation didn't seem to have progressed this far yet. He'd heard from
one of the officers outside that this was where Charles had kept the young
people he'd planned to sell. They had already been ushered outside to the
waiting medical teams, but Ben assumed it would be quite a while before
they forgot the horrors of this particular encounter. The thought made him
uncomfortable, but he tried to ignore the feeling as he chose one of the
open doors in the hall at random and stepped inside. 

 The room was still and quiet, and Ben found his eyes moving to the unmade
bed sitting tucked against the far wall between the tall windows. It was
queen-sized, unobtrusive except for the metal eyelet hooks attached to
either side of the thick wooden headboard. 

 Ben was not naive. He knew what this room had been used for, what the
young men and women they'd just rescued had been subjected to. Yet he felt
his skin going numb at the thought of it, and he moved forward without
really thinking about it, lifting one hand to touch the hook at the
nearest side of the headboard. The metal felt cold under his fingers. 

 To have so little control. Over himself, over the people around him. It
was a nightmare he hoped he'd never have to live through. 

 A soft creak of the floorboards behind him made him raise his head,
schooling his face into a bland expression. Of course Ray would have come
to check up on him. 

 "Ray, I--" He turned, freezing when he saw the three figures standing
just inside the entrance of the room. They were not dressed in the black
Kevlar vests that he'd come to associate with the SWAT team members.
Indeed, there was a subtle air about them that suggested they weren't
police officers at all. 

 "May I help you?" he asked, wondering why his heartbeat was suddenly
racing. It had to be an empathetic reaction to being inside this room.
Because there weren't any more of the criminals still loose inside the
house. The SWAT team had checked for that, they'd said there were no more
criminals running loose in here... 

 "Yeah, I think maybe you can." The tallest of the three men stepped
forward, making Ben tense slightly. The man's rangy form was dressed in a
faded T-shirt and worn blue jeans, his hair dark auburn in the light
streaming in through the windows. He was holding a small pistol in his
left hand, and while his grip on it was loose, it was trained unerringly
on Ben. 

 The man's companions were fidgeting nervously. "C'mon, Brett, let's get
out of here. This is crazy." 

 Ben lifted his eyes from the gun to the man's face. Despite the
nervousness of his companions, his eyes were calm. 

 "No." Brett's gaze moved to the window briefly, and his tongue flickered
out to moisten his lower lip, betraying his uneasiness. "We just lost
everything. If we don't have something to show to Snow, we're out of
business. He'll never agree to cover our costs while we recoup." 

 Ben stayed tactfully silent and moved a half-step closer to the window,
just to test the limits of Brett's attention span. Immediately, the hand
on the gun tightened, and Brett's eyes narrowed as they moved back to
focus on him. Ben froze instantly, knowing that Brett wouldn't hesitate to
shoot him. These men literally had nothing left to lose. 

 "There's no way out of here," Ben said, holding Brett's gaze. He kept his
voice low, not wanting to startle him into a precipitous action. "The
house is surrounded by police officers. If you turn yourselves in now, I
can guarantee that you'll be fairly treated. There's no need for further
violence." 

 "Oh, I think there is." Brett's gaze slid down over Ben's form in a way
that made Ben's heartbeat quicken yet again, and an oily fear twisted
tight inside his stomach. The small smile on Brett's face made him even
more uncomfortable than the gun did. 

 A quick glance at the window showed him that the SWAT team was
disbanding. Of course, they believed that they'd scoured the house
effectively, and there was no further threat. Where had these men been
hiding? It was entirely possible that there were hidden rooms, sealed off
tight against the threat of just this kind of a situation. Why hadn't they
thought of that? 

 "Come on, Red." Brett's voice was tight. "Away from the window." 

 Ben knew suddenly that he didn't want to go anywhere with these men.
Wiping suddenly clammy palms against the front of his uniform tunic, he
tried to think where Diefenbaker was. Last he'd seen him, he'd been
sniffing around outside. Too far away to do him any good right now. 

 "You'll never make it out of here," he said, trying for reason one last
time. He thought about jumping for the window, but they were too high. And
he knew instinctively that if Brett decided to shoot, he wouldn't miss. 

 "Maybe not." Brett nodded at one of his companions, a slim, reedy-looking
man with thin blond hair. The man hesitated and then moved forward, eyeing
Ben warily. 

 Ben tensed when he saw the blond man reach into his pocket, and he braced
himself for a fight. His heart was pounding now, as he tried frantically
to think of something to do. He couldn't allow himself to be used as a
hostage. Ray would never forgive him if he let himself be put at risk that
way. 

 He held Brett's gaze steadily as the blond man advanced on him. That gun
was his biggest worry, but once the blond man was close enough to him,
there was a good chance Brett wouldn't risk shooting for fear of hitting
his companion. 

 Ben glanced over at the blond man, saw the hesitation there, but then
there was movement on his other side as the third man moved in on him. He
reacted reflexively, bracing himself for the half-expected retort of
Brett's gun, but thankfully he refrained from shooting. Strong hands
closed around Ben's arms, swinging him around, and he lashed out with a
vicious uppercut to his assailant's jaw as the blond man moved in behind
him. 

 A sharp prick at the back of his neck made him flinch, and he turned
around to see the blond man skittering away from him. Ben's vision was
fuzzy, and he swayed, reaching for the headboard to steady himself as a
wave of nausea rolled over him. 

 Sudden comprehension made his heart leap up into his throat. He'd been
drugged. Already, he could barely hear through the roaring of the pulse in
his ears, and he turned to look at Brett again, fighting to see through
the darkness that flickered at the edges of his vision. He sank down to
his knees as his legs gave out, still leaning hard against the side of the
bed. 

 "Ray," he whispered, not sure if he'd said the word aloud. He could see
Brett's face looming over him, eclipsing the rest of the room. 

 Then he lost the battle against unconsciousness, and everything went
dark.  

 Ray watched as the SWAT van pulled away, feeling a measure of relief that
the raid was finally over. His stomach was queasy from the sudden dearth
of adrenaline in his system, and he rubbed at it absently as he leaned
back against the hood of his car, wiping one hand across his eyes. 

 There were only a few cops left on the property, detailing the crime
scene. All of the hard work was done; now it was just minutiae, the
unbearable tedium of bureaucracy. Every scrap of paper in the house had to
be read through, every computer file had to be downloaded and meticulously
combed for clues as to who the larger fish in this particular slave ring
might have been. Despite his satisfaction at what they'd managed to
accomplish today, Ray couldn't help feeling a twinge of depression. It was
like battling a Hydra from Greek mythology; unless you cut out the heart,
it would just grow another head somewhere down the line. 

 Pretty damned useless, in his opinion, although he had to admit it did
feel good to know there'd be that many fewer scumbags on the street
tonight. Plus they'd managed to rescue about a dozen kidnap victims that
were being held here, the youngest of which was fourteen. 

 So, okay. They'd done good. Even if it wasn't as much as he'd have hoped
for, it was something. More than something, to those dozen kids who'd be
going home today instead of spending another night locked up in this
place. 

 A sudden movement across the lawn caught his eye, and he looked up,
squinting slightly against the sun. Diefenbaker was nosing around the
rosebushes at the side of the house, but he'd apparently had his attention
snagged by something because he was looking up toward the upper floor
windows now, standing frozen with one paw lifted up off the ground. 

 Something in the wolf's posture struck Ray as vaguely disquieting. He
leaned forward off of the car and took a step away from it, wondering just
what his instincts were trying to tell him. He saw Dewey passing by on his
way to the house and held up a hand to stop him. 

 "Where's Benny?" he asked, without taking his gaze away from the house. 

 Dewey glanced at him and shrugged. "Dunno. I think I saw him go inside a
while ago." 

 Ray relaxed slightly. That was okay, then. SWAT had been through the
house with a fine-toothed comb, so he knew it was safe in there. Still, he
couldn't bring himself to relax completely, and it looked like Dief wasn't
relaxing, either. 

 Dief suddenly uncoiled from his watchful pose a moment before Ray heard a
shot ring out from the back of the house. He started moving immediately,
watching as Dief ran hard across the grass, a lithe silver shadow that
disappeared around the edge of the house before Ray even reached the
center of the yard. 

 Ray's heart was pounding. Another shot rang out, and there was shouting
from somewhere, and he was still too damn far away to see what was going
on. He forced himself to run faster, ignoring the growing ache in his
chest, and skidded to a halt just as a car pulled out of the back drive
with a squeal of tires, shooting a spray of cover fire out of a rear
window as it went. 

 What the hell was going on? Ray raised his gun reflexively and squeezed
off a few shots, diving for cover behind the edge of the porch as one of
the men in the car fired in his direction, bullets chipping the wall in a
spray of hot splinters just inches away from his face. Fuck. 

 He leaned forward and fired again, but the car was almost out of range
now, angling down the shallow slope of the drive toward the street. Out of
the corner of his eye, Ray saw that there was a uniformed officer lying on
the front of the porch, dark red spreading fast across the white-painted
wood of the floor beneath him. 

 Damn it, damn it, damn it. Ray tightened his grip on his gun as he ran up
the porch steps, staying low in case there were any more gunmen lying in
wait somewhere. Behind him, he could hear Dewey's voice calling in for
assistance, tight with shock as he let the operator know there was an
officer down. 

 Ray stripped off his jacket without thinking and pressed it hard to the
wound he saw in the side of the downed officer's chest, feeling relieved
at the low grunt of pain it caused. Pain was good, it meant the guy was
still alive. 

 "Hang in there," he said, looking over his shoulder, and his heart leaped
up into his throat when he saw the silver-furred shape lying prone against
the grass at the edge of the driveway. 

 Oh, no. Oh god, no. 

 "Dewey!" he said, hearing the frantic edge in his voice and not caring.
Dewey followed his gaze and nodded. 

 "I got it," he said, and Ray watched as he jogged out to Diefenbaker's
side, shrugging out of his jacket as he went. 

 There were more officers around them now, pouring out of the house, and
Ray looked up at them with wide eyes, trying to will Benny into existence.
But Benny didn't appear, and he felt the sick sense of fear in his stomach
deepen. 

 Finally, the ambulance arrived, along with more units from the city. Ray
gratefully moved out of the way so the paramedics could do their job, and
he wiped one blood-smeared hand across his brow as he turned back to look
for Diefenbaker. Dewey had covered the wolf with his jacket and was even
now lifting him up off the ground, shouting orders to the cops around him.
Huey appeared at his side to help clear the way, and Ray knew that between
the two of them, they'd manage to get Dief to a hospital. 

 Which was good, but it didn't calm the roiling fear in his gut. He pushed
his way inside the house, ignoring the surge of confusion around him, and
made a quick circuit of the lower rooms. Benny was nowhere to be seen, and
he moved toward the stairs with grim determination, almost afraid to think
what he'd find when he got upstairs. 

 "The Mountie," he said to the officers he passed by, and got only blank
looks in return. "Has anyone seen the Mountie?" 

 He was nearly vibrating with nervous energy by the time he got upstairs,
and he looked around sharply, wondering where to start looking. It was
quieter here, but he could still hear the subdued murmur of voices
downstairs. He thought suddenly of Benny lying hurt and bleeding in one of
these rooms and felt something inside him snap. He called Benny's name
hoarsely as he searched through the bedrooms, desperate to find him, to
help him, to do something. 

 But Benny wasn't in any of the bedrooms. His hat was lying overturned on
one of the beds, but that was the only sign of him. Ray heard footsteps in
the hall and turned to see Welsh coming toward him from the stairs. 

 "Did you see Benny outside?" he asked tightly, wondering if maybe Dewey
had been wrong. Maybe Benny hadn't been inside after all. 

 Welsh shook his head. "I don't know. It's a madhouse out there." He
looked tired, strained, as if he'd been trying to live for too long on too
much caffeine and too little sleep. Which, as Ray knew, he had been. 

 "Well, what the hell happened? Where did those guys come from?" Ray was
still riding the high from the shootout, rubbing his hands against his
thighs, trying to calm the rapid flutter in his gut. He stalked over to
the window and looked outside. The yard looked so peaceful from here.
Picturesque. 

 "That's what we're trying to find out. Apparently there's a back stairway
leading down to the rear foyer, so if they were hiding up here, that's
probably how they managed to make it downstairs without running into
anyone." There were more cops coming upstairs, spreading out to search now
that the excitement was over. Ray watched them with a feeling of
detachment, unable to calm the feeling of anxiety that twisted through
him. 

 This time, their search turned up a fake wall behind one of the
bookshelves in the master bedroom. It opened into a cramped alcove that
looked more than capable of serving as a hiding place while the place was
being raided. 

 "I didn't see how many people were in the car," Ray said, turning away
from the alcove with a scowl. "But there couldn't be more than three or
four guys that could've fit in there." 

 Welsh nodded, agreeing with his assessment. "We've got an APB out on the
car, but so far highway patrol hasn't turned up anything." 

 Ray nodded. "And Benny?" he asked, stepping up to the window and staring
hard down at the ground below. 

 There was a pause before Welsh answered. "No one's seen him since the
shooting. No one knows where he is." 

 The words settled like a block of ice deep in Ray's stomach, and he
closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out to the windowsill to steady
himself. 

 "They took him," he said after a moment. He was amazed at how even his
voice sounded. 

 Welsh hesitated before replying. "That's a definite possibility," he said
reluctantly. 

 Ray leaned his forehead forward against the window and let his breath out
in a long sigh. "Benny," he said, feeling a sudden pain lance deep inside
of him. He felt nauseous. 

 "We'll find him, Vecchio," Welsh said, and despite the usual gruffness of
his voice, there was an underlying compassion to it. 

 Ray smiled grimly. "Damn right we will." It took a moment for him to get
himself together again, but then he turned away from the window and made
his way back into the hall. *I'll find you, Benny,* he promised silently,
hoping that somewhere, somehow, Benny would be able to hear him. 

 He'd find him, or he'd die trying.  

 The first thing Ben noticed was that he was lying on something soft. He
concentrated on breathing for a moment, trying to process this new sensory
information as consciousness slowly returned to him. He ached in about a
hundred places, and there was a sharp, faintly bitter aftertaste in the
back of his throat. His mouth felt as if it had been stuffed full of
cotton. 

 The second thing he noticed was that his arms were restrained behind his
back. He flexed his fingers gingerly, wincing as feeling slowly returned
to them, and rolled onto his stomach to ease the pressure on his arm.
Rather securely restrained, he noted absently, with something that was
cutting uncomfortably into the bones of his wrists. 

 He was also gagged. That was an unpleasant realization, and he took a
moment to explore this new sensation, pressing with his tongue against the
damp cloth that filled his mouth. The corners of his lips felt chapped, as
if they'd been rubbed raw by the fabric that bound him, and he could feel
the knot pressing hard against the back of his head. 

 "Well, well, well," a familiar voice said from somewhere above him.
"Sleeping beauty awakes." 

 Calming the reflexive flutter of fear that shivered through him, Ben
peeled open his eyelids. Light stabbed into his eyes, and he closed them
again immediately, stifling a low groan. 

 Someone nearby chuckled deeply, and he tried to focus on where the sound
was coming from. Despite his efforts to keep himself calm, his heartbeat
was quickening, and his body twitched under the sudden flood of adrenaline
that coursed through it. 

 He remembered now. The raid. The three men. 

 He'd been kidnapped. 

 He couldn't even begin to imagine how they'd managed to get him out of
the house, and he hoped desperately that no one had been killed in the
process. From what he'd seen of Brett, he guessed that he wouldn't see
killing police officers as an unacceptable means of accomplishing his
goals. 

 There was a low creak as footsteps moved over the floorboards somewhere
nearby, and Ben flinched reflexively. He tried opening his eyes again,
keeping them closed to narrow slits, and this time, the light was painful
but bearable. It took a moment for his vision to focus, but then he could
see clearly again. 

 He was in a small wooden room, lying on a bare mattress that was tucked
onto one corner of the floor. An open door led out into what looked like a
narrow hallway, and a single window let in streams of slanting sunlight
above him. 

 Brett was here, sitting in a folding metal chair at the far side of the
room. He was smoking a cigarette, and he blew a thin cloud of smoke toward
the ceiling as he watched Ben wake up. 

 Ben shivered under that narrow gaze and turned to look at the door. The
blond-haired man was here as well, pacing agitatedly just inside the room.
He looked nervous, which Ben was beginning to think was a perpetual state
for him. The thought was not comforting. 

 Not knowing what else to do, he lay quietly while Brett finished his
cigarette. Looking up at the window, he thought he saw the edges of dark
pine branches outlined against the glass. Where were they? In the woods
somewhere? Was this a cabin? A safehouse of some sort? It occurred to him
suddenly that he didn't even know what state he was in anymore. 

 He worked on keeping his breathing even as he waited. He couldn't
remember ever being this frightened before, but panic was not going to
help him. He had to stay in control, of himself if not of the situation. 

 "I still think this is a bad idea." Apparently, Ben had woken up into the
middle of an ongoing conversation. The blond-haired man was still pacing,
tracing nervous gestures in the air with his hands. "I mean, look at him.
He's a Mountie, for Christ's sake." 

 "Yeah, I know." Brett sounded amused. A moment later, his voice
sharpened. "Get a hold of yourself, Andrew. Joel'll be back any minute
with the food, and we'll all sit down to a nice, calm supper before we ...
discuss things." 

 The pause was barely noticeable, but Ben tensed as Brett's gaze moved to
him again. There was something in the way Brett was looking at him that
made his skin crawl. 

 "Whatever, man." The blond man -- Andrew? -- still didn't look happy. He
walked over to the window and looked outside. "I just don't want to deal
with the heat that this's going to bring down on us." 

 "Relax." Ben tensed warily when Brett finally snubbed out his cigarette
and stood up, but he relaxed again when he didn't make a move toward him.
There was a sudden sound of a car engine somewhere outside, and Brett
glanced at the window. "See? He's back already." 

 They both left the room then, still arguing, and Ben immediately rolled
up into a sitting position, looking frantically around for something to
cut through his bonds. He was still dizzy from whatever drug they'd given
him, but he ignored the residual nausea churning in his stomach and pulled
at the bindings on his wrists. The room was bare except for the mattress
he was sitting on and a couple of folding chairs against the far wall.
Apparently Brett and his gang weren't very big on furnishings. 

 He nudged at his ankle with the side of one foot, but the knife he
carried inside his boot was missing. Damn it. His hat was gone, too, which
meant he couldn't get to the sharpened buckle on the front of it. His mind
raced, but he couldn't think of anything else that he might be able to use
to free himself. 

 There were voices in the hallway outside the room now, and the
floorboards were creaking again. Feeling a sudden spike in his heartbeat,
Ben lay back down against the mattress, figuring that if nothing else, he
could at least play sick until one of his captors let his guard down. 

 Brett was the first one to come into the room again, and he was closely
followed by Andrew and the third man that Ben recognized from earlier.
Joel, he guessed. He kept his eyes half-lidded as he watched them, trying
to appear as weakened and harmless as he possibly could. Not that that was
such a stretch, under the circumstances. 

 The rich smells of Chinese food filled his nostrils, making his stomach
cramp painfully. He was famished, but he knew instinctively that he
wouldn't be able to keep anything down until the drug was completely out
of his system. Even the thought of eating made him feel queasy. 

 Fortunately, none of his captors seemed inclined to offer him any of
their food. Andrew dragged in a folding card table and set it up next to
the chairs, and Brett and Joel set the steaming cartons down. Apparently
Brett wanted to keep a close eye on him while they were eating. 

 Joel and Andrew regarded him warily as they sat down to eat, but Brett
ignored him. Ben tried to listen to their conversation without looking
like he was, but they only made passing reference to circumvented
roadblocks and search parties, and the fact that they were planning on
hitting the highway in the morning. 

 All very vague and unilluminating, even if he did somehow miraculously
manage to free himself. If nothing else, it seemed clear that they'd
managed to evade the policemen at the Duval house, as well as whatever
pursuit there had been against them. 

 Finally, the impromptu dinner wound down, and Brett turned to look at Ben
again. The light outside the window was fading fast, and thick shadows
flocked at the corners of the room. Ben tried to hold himself very still,
hoping that maybe they'd think he was asleep and leave him alone for a
while, but then Brett stood up slowly and turned toward him. 

 "What do you think, Joel?" Brett asked. There was an underlying
hoarseness to his voice that Ben couldn't remember hearing before. 

 The third man at the table nodded, and he grinned. "Yeah. He'll bring in
a pretty penny, that's for sure." 

 Andrew still looked nervous, but he didn't say anything as Brett took a
step closer to the corner of the room where Ben lay. Ben tensed, feeling a
sudden fear grip him. He forced his breathing to remain even, in and out,
over and over again. 

 "Pretty thing, isn't he?" Brett's voice had gone soft, and the muscles in
Ben's stomach tightened as he watched him come closer. Joel had stood up
and was moving in behind him. His eyes were bright in the fading glow from
the window, dark beneath the ragged thatch of his hair. 

 Ben couldn't help drawing back as Brett crouched down beside him. His
heartbeat was a dull thunder in his ears, making him dizzy, and he bit
down reflexively against the gag in his mouth, wishing he could talk.
Talking his way out of untenable situations was something he was good at,
but that option had been stripped away from him as well. Pieces of what
Brett had said were floating around in the back of his mind, and he
deliberately tried to ignore them, refusing to think about what Brett
might want from him. 

 Brett reached out to touch the side of his face, and Ben jerked away,
glaring up at him. He drew his knees up toward his stomach, getting ready
to lash out if Brett tried to touch him again. His heart was pounding now,
it was roaring, and he could barely breathe through the fear that gripped
him. 

 A hand on his leg made him jump, and he twisted around to see that Joel
had come up beside the mattress as well. Ben tried to move his leg away,
but the grip on his ankle was suddenly painfully tight, two hands holding
his feet down hard against the mattress as he writhed to get away from
them. 

 He was on his stomach now, and the position made him feel achingly
vulnerable. He saw Brett reaching for him again and tried to roll away,
tensing his legs to kick out at the hands that held him, but now there
were hands on his shoulders as well, pushing him down. 

 "Fuck." Joel's voice, thick with strain as he fought to hold him. Ben
felt fingers twine in the hair at the back of his head, pressing his face
against the mattress, and he struggled to breathe, blinking back tears as
the pain of the grip spiked through him. A sharp blow landed in the back
of his ribs, and he grunted, flinching away as hands scrabbled at his
waist, trying to contain his wild struggles. 

 There was a weight on the backs of his thighs now, thick and heavy
against him, and he bucked madly against it, keening into the gag that
filled his mouth. He was panicking now, he knew he was panicking, but he
couldn't control himself, couldn't do anything but twist and fight against
the hands that held him. Another blow landed on his kidney, knocking the
breath out of him, and it disoriented him enough where he almost didn't
feel the hands peeling away the belt around his waist. 

 A sudden rush of cold air made him aware of the fact that his pants were
being pulled down, and he screamed, the sound emerging as little more than
a muffled whimper through the gag. There were hands on his skin now,
touching him, stroking him, and he pressed his hips hard against the
mattress, trying to get away from them. Heat roared underneath the surface
of his skin, making his skin prickle, making him hurt even where there
were no hands on him. 

 He tried to press his thighs together, but the bruising grip moved to his
knees, pulling his legs apart. Oh god, this couldn't be happening,
couldn't be happening, couldn't be real. Ben bucked against them, trying
to unseat the weight that sprawled on top of him, but it was no use. He
felt dizzy, nauseous, weakened from the drug that still circulated
sluggishly through his system. He felt hard teeth biting into the back of
his neck, hard enough to bruise, and he twisted his head away, trying to
slam his head back against the shape he sensed hovering above him. 

 Brett's low chuckle was breathless against his ear, and Ben turned away
from it, blinking back tears. "Pretty Mountie boy," Brett whispered to
him, and a hand slid lasciviously up his side, burrowing underneath his
tunic. Ben shuddered, feeling himself start to go numb, feeling his mind
begin carrying him off to a place where he wouldn't have to feel this,
wouldn't have to live through this. His eyes were wide and unseeing as
they stared across the darkened room. 

 The sudden pain that tore through him when Brett thrust into him made him
cry out sharply, biting down hard on the gag. *Oh god,* his mind chanted
over and over, numb from the thought of what was happening to him. Oh god,
oh god, oh god... 

 The pain shot up his spine straight to the base of his skull, making him
moan and writhe as Brett fucked him. Despite his efforts to close himself
away from what was happening, he couldn't help feeling it, living it,
being aware of every sharp thrust inside him. Brett was grunting against
his ear now, low and rhythmic, and there were hands digging painfully into
his upper arms, holding him down against the mattress. Ben squeezed his
eyes shut, willing it all to go away. 

 Brett suddenly tensed above him, and Ben's eyes closed even more tightly
as he heard the man's pleasured groan vibrate through him. Brett's hands
tightened spasmodically around his arms, and after an endless moment, he
collapsed bonelessly against Ben's back, breathing out hard against the
back of his neck. 

 "Fuck," he said with a sigh, nipping lightly at the side of Ben's jaw. He
gave a breathless laugh when Ben jerked away from him, still not opening
his eyes. "You're the sweetest ass I've ever had." 

 Ben flinched away from the words, feeling his thoughts crash together
like a derailed train inside his head. He shuddered as Brett pulled out of
him, and the steady ache pulsing in his lower back flared for a moment,
causing a strangled sound to force its way up from his throat. 

 He felt numb now, lost, as if he were falling through a dense fog without
any idea of which way was up. The physical pain he felt was secondary, and
he couldn't stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He deliberately
did not react when smooth fingers traced across his cheek, wiping them
away. 

 "Damn." Joel's voice now, low against his ear. "We're going to make a
fortune on this one, Brett." 

 Then a new weight settled down across the backs of his thighs, and Ben's
eyes flew open with an aborted cry as he realized that Joel was leaning
down on top of him. He tried to twist away, suddenly energized again, but
there were hands on his ankles, refusing to let him move away. 

 The sharp thrust was even more painful this time, and he keened low in
his throat, arching his hips up off the mattress as the sensations arced
through him. Joel was panting hard in his ear, muttering short, broken
phrases about how good he was, how sweet he was, calling him words like
"slut" and "bitch" and "whore". 

 He was finished a lot quicker that Brett had been, or maybe it just
seemed that way. Ben kept his eyes closed as Joel pulled away from him,
concentrating on the pain that shuddered through him. Pain was good, he
could deal with pain, especially if it meant he didn't have to think about
what had just happened. 

 Then there was another shuffling of movement, and his eyes slitted open
as a third body moved into position over him. He'd been hoping that
Andrew, at least, might not be willing to assault him this way, but it
seemed that even Andrew's inherent nervousness about his presence here
couldn't keep him from wanting a piece of the spoils. The thought made Ben
choke on a sudden surge of dark laughter, and he closed his eyes again,
allowing the dizziness he felt to move through him in a liquid wave. It
was the lingering effects of the drug, he supposed, or else it was just
shock. Either way, he welcomed it. 

 It was almost easy this time, if he ignored the pain. He allowed himself
to drift, focusing on mundane images of his days at the Consulate, then
memories of his daily patrols in the Yukon, so long ago it seemed. He was
more successful this time in mentally removing himself from the rape, and
he didn't even notice that Andrew had finished with him until he felt the
heavy warmth against his back move away. 

 There was a low murmur of voices around him, disembodied in the darkness
of the room. Ben let his eyes drift shut again, and he didn't react as he
heard them move away from him, bantering back and forth with what sounded
like a heady dose of good humor. He could feel a slick heat trickling down
between his legs, but whether it was semen or blood, he couldn't be
certain. It occurred to him then that all three of his assailants had used
some kind of lubricant to ease their entry during the rape, which he
supposed should count as a small blessing. They didn't want to damage the
merchandise, he supposed. 

 He couldn't muster the energy for another laugh, which he figured was
good since the joke wasn't really all that funny. The air inside the cabin
felt cold against his bare skin, but it wasn't enough to keep him from
falling prey to the wave of exhaustion that crashed over him. 

 A moment later -- blissfully, thankfully -- he fell asleep.  

 They left him alone till morning. The sun was just beginning to make its
way in through the window when Ben felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him
awake. He jerked back reflexively as the memories of the previous evening
poured over him, and he opened his eyes to see Andrew bending over him. 

 "Up and at 'em," Andrew told him. His eyes were unexpectedly mild.
"There's breakfast, if you hurry." 

 Ben's stomach growled at that, and he took a moment to assess his
condition. His pants were still bunched up around his ankles, and he felt
his face go warm at that realization. However, his mind felt relatively
clear, and the acrid taste in the back of his throat was gone. Apparently
he'd slept off the last effects of the sedative they'd given him. 

 He realized Andrew was waiting for an answer, and he nodded slowly. There
was still a dull pain burning deep inside the small of his back, reminding
him unnecessarily of what had happened last night. But it wasn't sharp,
and it didn't increase when he moved. That had to be a good sign. 

 Andrew helped him stand, and as unpleasant as it was to be touched by
this man, Ben was grateful for the assistance. He'd lost all feeling in
his arms long ago, and he wasn't sure he would have made it on his own. He
could hear voices outside, which he assumed belonged to Brett and Joel. 

 He swayed for a moment, feeling dizzy again, but then he stood still
while Andrew removed his gag. For a moment he just sucked in air
gratefully, glad to be rid of the thing. 

 "Better?" Andrew asked him, and he nodded. His mouth was so dry he didn't
think he'd be able to form any words, even if he tried. 

 Then Andrew was kneeling down to pull up his pants, and Ben flushed
hotly, turning his face away. He didn't look as Andrew's thin hands
fastened the pants in front of him, fingers cool against the skin of his
waist. 

 "Relax." Andrew's tone was wry. His hand moved to Ben's arm again, and he
guided him to the table, where he carefully helped him sit down in one of
the chairs there. Ben winced, but managed to sit without too much
difficulty. 

 Breakfast consisted of bottled water and oatmeal, which smelled sickly
sweet from sugar and tasted like it had come from one of those instant
microwaveable packets. Ben devoured it all as Andrew fed it to him,
though, and felt as if he'd never tasted anything more satisfying. He
hadn't realized how truly hungry he was until he'd started to eat. 

 Feeling somewhat better, he watched as Andrew gathered up the dishes.
"Where are we going?" he asked, having to clear his throat three times
before his voice would work. 

 Andrew glanced at him, looking startled. "West," was all he said. "You'll
see." He dropped his gaze again as he shoveled the remains of Ben's meal
into a plastic bag. 

 Ben's heart was pounding again. Where were they taking him? Far away, it
seemed, and for a moment he gave in to the despair that Ray would never be
able to find him. Because Ray was looking for him; of that he had no
doubt. 

 "For what purpose?" he asked, thinking that if he could just keep Andrew
talking, he might be able to learn something that would help him. 

 But Andrew only smiled, reaching for his arm again to help him to his
feet. "I wouldn't worry about it just yet. Just keep your head down and
try not to make too many waves, all right? Things'll go a lot easier for
you that way." 

 It was sound advice, Ben had to admit. The last thing he wanted to do was
draw Brett's attention. 

 There was a certain surreality in being handled with such gentleness by a
man who had been his rapist. Ben's thoughts skittered away from that
thought as he followed Andrew out into the hall. The short passage opened
up into a broad room that was decorated only slightly more than the room
where he'd been kept. 

 "Do you need to use the bathroom before we go?" 

 Once again, Ben felt his cheeks grow warm. But he nodded dumbly, keeping
his gaze on the floor. He couldn't count on being asked again any time
soon, and he couldn't bear the indignity that might come if he didn't take
advantage of the offer. 

 The bathroom was a small alcove off to one side of the main room. It was
almost physically painful to have Andrew undress him again, but Ben
allowed it reluctantly, knowing that he wouldn't be able to manage on his
own. Not with his hands tied behind his back. Maybe, if he showed signs of
being cooperative, they'd let down their guard and untie him eventually. 

 Andrew held the front door open for him as they went outside, and Ben
blinked in the rising sunlight, looking around to get his bearings. The
cabin was surrounded by a copse of dark pine trees, blue spruce if he
wasn't mistaken. A rough gravel driveway led away under their heavy
branches, disappearing around a bend some distance away. 

 Brett and Joel were loading bags into the trunk of the car. It was a dark
green SUV, which Ben couldn't remember seeing at the Duval house. Whatever
vehicle they'd used to make their escape, they had apparently left it
behind in favor of this new one. A clever move, he had to admit, and he
mentally lowered his expectations of being rescued. Apparently, Brett knew
what he was doing. 

 Thankfully, he was ignored as Andrew moved forward to help load the car.
He was left standing on the porch, so even if he thought his legs could
carry him, he'd have to get by all three of his captors before reaching
the woods. 

 For one desperate moment, he almost considered it. 

 But then Andrew was moving toward him again, reaching out to guide him
toward the car. Ben hesitated before he followed, feeling a sudden fear
slither through him. Wherever they were going, he didn't think he'd be
enjoying himself once they got there. 

 "Come on," Andrew said, speaking under his breath. His fingers were tight
around Ben's upper arm. "You really don't want to start anything. Trust
me." 

 Ben hesitated a moment longer. Even through the thickness of his serge,
Andrew's fingers felt hot against him. He ached suddenly, deep inside his
chest, and he struggled to breathe through the sudden panic that gripped
him. 

 He couldn't go with them, not even if they threatened to kill him. He.
Could. Not. 

 Brett looked up from where he stood by the side of the SUV, looking
irritated. "Come on," he said sharply, apparently speaking to Andrew. "We
were supposed to be on the road half an hour ago." 

 Andrew's fingers tugged at his arm, but Ben couldn't make himself move.
It hurt to breathe, like acid churning deep inside his lungs, and he
leaned away from Andrew's touch on his arm, wishing he had the strength to
do more. 

 "For God's sake." Brett slammed the car door shut and stalked toward
them. Ben watched him come closer and took a hesitant step back, barely
noticing as Andrew let go of his arm to fish around in the pocket of his
jeans. 

 "Never mind. I got it." Andrew's voice sounded far away, and Ben barely
heard him as Brett came up the steps. There was a sudden prick against the
back of his hand, and he turned to look at Andrew in surprise. 

 "Sorry, pal." Andrew sounded honestly apologetic. 

 Oh dear god, not again. Ben felt the hard planks of the porch turn liquid
under his feet, and he swayed unsteadily, feeling the familiar roaring
darkness move in around him. He felt arms close around him, holding him
up, and while he wanted to move away from them he only sank further into
their embrace. 

 A moment later, everything went black.  

 He woke up some time later to find himself lying on another soft surface.
This time, he wasn't quite so eager to open his eyes, although he did
notice that his hands seemed to be unbound. And he wasn't gagged this
time, which was a definite improvement. 

 Warily, he opened one eye. For a moment he felt panicked when he couldn't
see anything, thinking that maybe the drug they'd given him had blinded
him this time around, but then his vision began to resolve the outlines of
several low shapes in the room around him. 

 It was night. Opening both eyes, he found himself staring at a wide
picture window overlooking a shadowed back yard. Silver shadows hugged the
grass, giving the scene a surreal aspect, as if he were looking at a scene
in a child's storybook. 

 The leaves of the tall tree outside the window shivered in the breeze.
Not a pine tree like before. An oak, maybe. It was hard to tell in the
darkness. 

 He appeared to be lying on a couch. Trying to ignore the steady pounding
behind his eyes, he lifted his head to get a better look around. There
were noises coming from the room behind him, too low to be
distinguishable, and when he turned to look in that direction, he saw a
thin line of yellow light spilling out from underneath the closed door. 

 The room he was in was large and expensively decorated. Tall bookshelves
lined one wall, filled with several rows of thick, hardbound books. The
carpet that covered the floor looked deep, judging by the imprint that the
furniture was leaving in it. There was a small fireplace in the wall
beside him, covered by a thin mesh grill. The paintings on the walls were
tasteful. 

 Now that his eyes were adjusting, even the thin silver moonlight that
filled the room seemed uncomfortably bright. He squinted against it and
rubbed his fingers over his eyes, feeling grateful for the opportunity to
move as he saw fit. Although he supposed it should be disturbing him that
his captors didn't feel the need to restrain him any longer. 

 The thought of Brett and his minions made him feel suddenly cold, and he
pushed himself up on one arm, ignoring the sudden rush of dizziness that
fell over him. His stomach was twisting like a pit of snakes, but he knew
from experience now that the nausea wouldn't last long. 

 So where was he, then? Very carefully, he sat up and looked around. His
red uniform tunic was missing, as were his boots. He was dressed only in
his jodhpurs and white Henley. The thought that someone must have
undressed him while he was unconscious made his skin crawl. 

 Deliberately, he curtailed that thought and turned his attention to the
room around him. He looked instinctively for something to use as a weapon,
but the room appeared to have been meticulously stripped bare of anything
that might serve that purpose. Unless he wanted to climb up on top of the
mantle to pull down one of the paintings, there wasn't anything around him
that he could use to defend himself with. And he didn't have high hopes
for his ability to make it off the couch with his balance intact, much
less anywhere else. 

 It was frustrating to feel so helpless. Frustrating to think he could be
... used ... in that way. In the darkness, Ben felt his cheeks burn, and
he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the residual ache between his legs that
the memory brought to his attention. 

 Weak as a day-old kitten. Sudden fury burned in him, but he just let his
head fall against the back of the couch, willing his body to work out the
last traces of that damned sedative. If he could get his strength back,
that meant he could fight. There was no way he could let them do that to
him again. 

 It was almost funny, how quickly his priorities in life had changed. Not
that he really knew how long it had been since he'd been kidnapped, but he
guessed it hadn't been all that long. It was likely just a couple of days
ago that he'd been working cases for the 27th, trying to keep his
relationship with Ray professional, wondering if the attraction he felt
toward Ray was something that might be worth risking the friendship they'd
carved out together over the past couple of years. That was indeed the
problem that had consumed the majority of his time, which seemed kind of
ironic, really, when he considered the fact that right now the only thing
on his mind was the cold certainty that he really did not want to be
fucked again. 

 Such a crude word, but there really wasn't another to describe what Brett
had done to him. It would have been different with Ray, he was sure. So
very different with Ray. Ray would have touched him with love, would have
been gentle. There would have been no shame involved. Would there have
been pain? If so, it would have been minimal. He knew that much. Ray would
never willingly hurt him, and he had such gentle hands. 

 He realized that his thoughts were drifting, but there didn't seem to be
much he could do about it. He was still fighting through the fog in his
brain when he heard the door to the room open. 

 He tensed immediately, feeling a reflexive tightening in his chest as he
twisted around to see who was coming. He felt his breath catch in his
throat when he saw it was Brett. 

 "He's awake," Brett called over his shoulder as he stepped into the room.
He moved around to the front of the couch and stood looking down at Ben
with a small smile. 

 Ben stared up at him with what he hoped was a bland expression. It
wouldn't do at all if even half the fear he felt in this man's presence
was showing on his face. 

 "It's been fun, Red, but we'll be leaving tonight. I hope you enjoy your
new home." Ben tried to make sense of the words, fighting through the
drug-induced fog in his brain as Brett leaned down over him. Brett brushed
a thumb across Ben's lower lip and smiled again, while Ben met his gaze
stonily, refusing to pull away. "I'm just sorry I never had the chance to
fuck this pretty mouth of yours." 

 The casual statement made Ben angry, and he found himself wishing that
Brett would try to stick something between his teeth right then. The
viciousness of the thought startled him, and his stomach churned in
protest against it. 

 There was more movement at the entrance to the room now, and Brett looked
up over the back of the couch, straightening. "He's all yours, Mr. Snow."
There was a subtle change in his voice now, an increased note of respect
that gave Ben pause. "Good luck with him." 

 He glanced down at Ben one more time before turning to leave. Ben watched
him go with a curiously hollow feeling, not sure if he should be feeling
relieved or terrified at this new development. 

 There was more shuffling movement at the doorway behind him, but he
deliberately didn't turn. Finally, the movement quieted, and a thick
silence fell over the room. A shadow moved at the edge of his vision, and
he closed his eyes with a short sigh. 

 "You don't have to be afraid." 

 This new voice was unexpectedly mild. Low and masculine, it made his
heartbeat quicken. Ben tensed again as the couch dipped beside him,
telling him that someone had just sat down on the cushion next to him. 

 He concentrated on his breathing again, in and out. In and out. There was
no real question in his mind what he had been brought here for. He knew
what business Brett and his associates were involved in, and his remarks
about Ben earning him a tidy profit had been all too revealing. 

 A low chuckle beside him drew his attention again. "They really hit you
up hard, didn't they? You must have given them quite a bit of trouble." 

 A hand against his face then, turning his head into the light falling
through the window. Ben's brows drew together at the unwanted contact, but
he couldn't quite find the strength to protest. The dreamy lassitude that
enveloped him was almost comforting. 

 Another low chuckle, almost inaudible. "Brett can be a bit of a hardass,
but he did good this time. You really are quite amazing." 

 Ben bristled under the casual compliment, and he forced his eyes open. It
took more effort than he thought it would, but finally he got his vision
to focus. 

 There was a man sitting on the couch next to him, gazing at him with a
bemused expression. He looked just slightly older than Ben himself, with
short brown hair and unusually piercing dark eyes. Handsome, if he'd allow
himself to notice such a thing. Confident, most definitely. As well he
should be, Ben supposed, considering the circumstances. 

 "Who are you?" he managed, licking his tongue over his lips to moisten
them. 

 He saw the man's gaze follow the path of his tongue and quickly pressed
his lips together, feeling his face grow warm again. 

 "My name is Chris Snow." The name jogged something in Ben's memory, but
he couldn't think what it was right then. If only he could force his
thoughts into some kind of order... "What's your name?" 

 Ben stared at him, wondering if it would be worth it not to answer. But
it was really an innocuous question, and he had no desire to anger this
man. Not when he was feeling so damnably helpless. "Ben," he answered,
hoping that would be enough to satisfy him. 

 Apparently, it was. "That's a fine name." Snow was smiling. "It suits
you." 

 Ben continued to stare at him, feeling as if he was being devoured by
that dark-eyed gaze. Snow, he thought again, wondering where he'd heard
that name before. Then the memory clicked. This was the man Brett had
mentioned back at the Duval house. There was a very likely possibility
that he was the one who was organizing the slave ring that Ray had been
investigating. 

 "What do you want with me?" 

 Snow hesitated, tracing one thumb up along the line of Ben's brow. The
sensation was remarkably soothing. "You're going to be working for me,
Ben. But you really don't need to be worrying about that right now." 

 Cold. He felt so dreadfully cold. "No," he whispered, knowing
instinctively what Snow was referring to. "I won't." 

 He was afraid that Snow might be angered by his refusal, but instead,
Snow only looked amused. "Why don't you go back to sleep for a while. I'm
sure you'll feel better when you wake up again." 

 "No," Ben said again, but Snow was guiding him back down onto his side on
the couch now. He went numbly, pillowing his head on his hand and closing
his eyes against the tears that pricked underneath his eyelids. He wanted
to go home, and he wanted Ray. This entire situation felt like a nightmare
he couldn't wake up from. 

 "Go back to sleep, Ben," Snow said again. He ran a hand back through
Ben's hair, stroking him as if he were a favored pet. Ben shuddered under
the caress, feeling exhaustion reach for him, tangling him in its cold
embrace. 

 "No," he said again, so softly that not even he could hear it. The room
felt echoingly empty around him, and he knew instinctively that Snow had
left him alone. 

 *Ray,* he thought, feeling somehow reluctant to speak the name aloud.
Help me. 

 It was his last coherent thought before the darkness moved in to claim
him.  

 PART II: The Return 

 Ray leaned back in his chair and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. His entire
body felt stiff and sore, numbed from lack of sleep, but he couldn't let
himself stop now. Not when they were so close. 

 "You look like crap, Ray." Elaine's voice was strangely compassionate as
she perched on the edge of his desk. "Why don't you take a break or
something? Go get a cappuccino?" 

 He checked a sigh and glared up at her, trying and then failing to hold
back a yawn. "No, Elaine." He turned back to the open file folder in front
of him, hoping she'd take the hint. 

 Of course, being Elaine, she didn't. "How long has he been gone?" 

 Ray sighed heavily. "Two months, fifteen days, four hours, and," -- he
glanced at his watch -- "eleven minutes." 

 Elaine stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she
responded. "Jesus, Ray." 

 He closed his eyes and rubbed at them again, willing the ache in his head
to go away. "Was there something else you wanted to ask me, or was that
it?" 

 "I ... no. I just wanted to make sure you were all right." 

 "Well, I'm fine." He hated that he was being so gruff with her, but he
didn't seem able to control the rage that coiled inside him anymore. It
was rage against the men who had taken Benny, and rage against himself,
but it still licked out at other convenient targets whenever anyone
ventured too close. 

 Once again, he glanced down at the file folder in front of him. Andrew
David Holstein, the cover page said. Age twenty-four, blond hair, brown
eyes, 5'10" and 156 pounds. He looked like a bit of a weasel in the
picture that was paperclipped to the front of the page. 

 It had been a very long two and a half months. Some days, Ray believed
the time since Ben had disappeared had been longer than the rest of his
life combined. There hadn't ever been any real question that he'd be
working this case, no matter how long it took, although of course it had
taken a bit of maneuvering to convince Welsh. After a month, Welsh had
tactfully suggested that he start turning his attention to some of his
other cases, and Ray had very calmly laid his badge down on Welsh's desk
as his reply. 

 He was going to find Benny. If it took him the rest of his life, he was
going to find him. 

 Of course Welsh had come around eventually, and now everyone just sort of
accepted the fact that he was working this one case, and this one case
only. This particular slave ring had been in place for over a decade now,
as far as anyone could tell, and nothing had even come close to cracking
it. Not FBI stings, or shutting down the local branches when they popped
up in different cities around the country. Once again, he was reminded of
the analogy of the Hydra. That was how he felt sometimes: like some weird
knight dressed in Armani, battling a serpent-headed monster with a
thousand limbs that were trying desperately to drag him down. 

 And the Hydra had been winning, until recently. God, he felt like he was
half-dead some mornings, but he wasn't going to give up. Benny was out
there somewhere, lost in whatever crack had opened up in the earth to
swallow him whole. His greatest fear was that Benny might have been sold
somewhere outside the country, but he refused to cross that bridge until
he came to it. 

 There was no real question in his mind what Benny would have been
kidnapped for, and he didn't really like thinking about that, either. He
knew the business that Charles and his goons had been involved in, and he
knew perfectly well what Benny looked like. He'd be walking temptation to
guys like that. 

 Ray sighed and leaned forward over his desk, rubbing his eyes. He
couldn't even think straight anymore. Whenever he tried to concentrate on
the case, his mind just kept going back to Benny, and what he must be
going through. He wasn't going to be any good to Benny at all if he kept
this up. 

 A hand on the back of his neck startled him, and he jerked back in
surprise. He'd forgotten Elaine was there, and he was all ready to snarl
some smartassed remark at her until he saw the naked concern shining in
her eyes. God, did he really look that bad? 

 He braced himself for the expected reprimand on how he wasn't taking care
of himself, but she surprised him by nodding toward the folder in front of
him. 

 "Is that one of the guys who took him?" 

 Ray's eyes moved back to the picture of Andrew Holstein. "Yeah. I think
so." 

 It had taken a lot of police work of the old-fashioned kind to get that
bit of information: two months of reading through the files confiscated
from the Duval house bust, reading and re-reading until his eyesight went
blurry. Lots of legwork, tracking down snitches, calling in favors, laying
it on thick when he went downtown to throw his weight around. Two months
of wiretaps (some authorized, some not, but what Welsh didn't know wasn't
going to hurt him), sitting alone in some cramped room with a headset and
a tape recorder, listening to people go about their daily lives. 

 And all of it had finally, finally, begun to pay off. A name, and with
it, this file. Andrew Holstein had been arrested for a variety of crimes
in his relatively short criminal career -- petty burglary, extortion,
illegal gambling -- but nothing had ever stuck. He was a slippery little
bastard, but Ray wasn't getting the impression that he had the brains to
organize this kind of outfit. 

 But even so, a small fish was better than no fish at all. And there was a
very real possibility that if he was one of the men who'd been hiding in
that alcove at the Duval house during the raid, then he would know where
Benny was. 

 He realized Elaine was still looking at him, and he pulled his thoughts
together with an effort. "I'm waiting on a phone call," he said, figuring
that he owed her some kind of explanation. "From one of my sources
downtown who might know someone who knows someone who might know where
this guy is hiding out. You know how it is." 

 Elaine nodded at him, looking excited. "So this might be it, then. You
did it." 

 No. He refused to get his hopes up. "We won't know anything until we see
what kind of news I get." 

 And this was what it came down to, finally. Waiting. There was nothing
else for him to do, no more rabbits for him to pull out of his hat. If
this didn't pan out, he was back to square one. Which meant he had
nothing, and Benny was probably gone for good. 

 The shrill ringing of the phone on his desk startled him, and he glanced
up at Elaine for a moment before reaching for it, feeling his heartbeat
spike. He refused to get his hopes up, goddamn it. 

 "Vecchio," he said into the phone, looking up into Elaine's suddenly
luminous eyes. 

 "Hey, man, it's Sal." Ray recognized his informant's voice immediately.
"You know that guy you're looking for?" 

 Ray's fingers tightened around the phone, and he let out his breath
slowly before replying. "Yes," he said as calmly as he could. 

 "Well, I got an address for you. 4199 Park Street. Apartment fourteen." 

 Ray already had a pen in his hand, and he scribbled the address down on
the edge of the desk blotter in front of him. "Got it," he said. "He live
alone?" 

 "Dunno. But it's still the usual fee, man, right?" 

 "Yeah, yeah, you'll get your money." Ray threw the pen down on top of the
desk and stood, reaching for his jacket. "I'll call you." 

 He slammed the phone down and glanced down at Diefenbaker. The wolf was
looking up at him from where he'd been napping beside the desk, and his
tall ears pricked forward in silent question as he noted Ray's sudden
agitation. 

 "We found him," Ray said, shrugging into his jacket. "I mean, we might
have found him." 

 Dief whuffed softly and scrambled to his feet. 

 "I'll tell Welsh to send some back-up," Elaine said, scooting back out of
his way as he swept by her. 

 "Sure," Ray said, without looking back. It would save him a phone call
once he got on the road, 'cause he sure as hell wasn't going to stop to
talk to him now. "Tell him to send in the fucking Marines." 

 Dief trotted at his side as they made their way down to the parking
garage. He jumped into the back seat when Ray opened the door for him, and
Ray slid in behind the steering wheel after him. The wolf always sat in
the backseat without having to be told, as if he didn't feel comfortable
sitting in the seat that Benny had vacated. 

 Oddly enough, Ray felt calmer than he had in weeks. He turned the Riv in
the direction of downtown, driving with one elbow hanging out the open
window beside him. He'd better stay calm, too, or else he might just rip
Andrew Holstein apart the moment he laid eyes on him. 

 4199 Park Street was a shabby two-story apartment complex that reminded
Ray uncomfortably of Benny's apartment building. He pulled up into the
front drive in front of the office and turned the engine off with a savage
flick of his wrist. 

 Gravel crunched under his boots as he made his way up the wooden steps to
the front porch of the building. Apartment 14 was about three doors down
on his right, and he moved toward it with a feeling of anticipation
tightening in his chest. Dief followed silently at his heels. 

 There was a grubby window next to the door, but the curtain inside was
closed. The door itself might have been white at one time, but it was so
scratched and dirty now it looked more grey than anything else. There was
a large "14" painted in reddish-brown letters at about eye level, just
above the small metal circle of the peephole. 

 Ray rapped sharply on the door with his knuckles, glancing down at Dief.
Dief's hackles were bristling, and his narrow gaze was fixed unwaveringly
on the door in front of them. 

 For a moment, Ray didn't think anyone was going to answer, but then there
was a low shuffling sound inside. The door opened slightly, jarring hard
against the chain lock, and Ray saw a dark brown eye blinking at him
through the crack. 

 "Yeah?" a sleepy voice said. 

 Ray clenched his fist at his side, trying to ignore the tremors that were
working their way under his skin. He forced a smile. 

 "Brett sent me," he said. He had no idea who Brett was, but it was a name
one of his informants had dropped sometime over the past month or so. 

 The response was immediate. "Shit." The door slammed shut without
warning, and there was a low scrape as the chain lock was removed. Then
the door opened again, and Ray was ushered inside to a darkened room. 

 It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but then he could
see clearly that this was indeed the man he was looking for. Andrew
Holstein. He looked even more weaselish in person. 

 "Brett sent you, huh?" Holstein ran a hand back over his tousled hair and
glanced down nervously at Dief. "I don't suppose he saw fit to mention
that I'm working nights now, so I'm usually sleeping during the day." 

 "He must have forgotten to mention it." Ray wandered around to look at
the room. It was as untidy as he'd been expecting, with boxes and other
miscellaneous crap piled high in the corners. He fingered the small clock
on top of the television idly. 

 "So what's up, man? Was there a problem with the delivery?" 

 Ray had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. But he was growing
bored with the conversation anyway. 

 "Were you there at the Duval house when it was hit a couple months ago?"
he asked. 

 Holstein blinked at him, looking confused. He glanced down at Dief again.
"What?" 

 "You know." Ray gestured vaguely. "The raid where Charles was nabbed." 

 Holstein eyed him suspiciously and took a step toward the hallway leading
further into the apartment. Dief growled low in his throat, stopping him
in mid-stride. 

 "Who are you?" Holstein asked, turning to Ray with wide eyes. "You're not
really a friend of Brett's, are you?" 

 Ray shook his head. "No. I'm not." He walked over to the closed front
door and locked it, reaching for his badge. Holstein's eyes looked like
they were going to pop out of his head when he saw it. 

 "Fuck." He glanced down at Dief again, then at the front door, then back
at Ray. "You're a fucking cop." 

 "Yeah. I'm a fucking cop." The rage was back again, simmering under his
skin, burning away his hard-won calm. 

 Holstein was sweating now. "What the fuck do you want, man? You gonna
arrest me? You can't have anything that's gonna connect me to the Duval
thing." 

 Ray felt almost physically repulsed just being in the same room with this
man. The truth was, he didn't have any proof of anything. Just hearsay off
the streets from people who would never in a million years agree to
testify in court anyway. They'd gotten their hands on Charles at the Duval
house, of course, but Charles wasn't talking. Charles had wanted to talk
to his fucking lawyer, and while he was going to spend the next ten years
of his fucking life in fucking prison, he wasn't going to fucking take
anyone else down with him. 

 "You boys were careless," Ray lied, holding Holstein's gaze evenly as he
stepped up next to Dief. Dief rumbled low in his chest, underscoring the
comment. "You left way too much stuff behind when you bugged out of there.
It took us a while, but we followed the paper trail right to your door." 

 Holstein looked like he was about ready to jump out of his skin. "If
that's true, why haven't you arrested me already?" 

 "Because we don't want you." Ray didn't have to feign the disgust in his
voice. "We want your boss." 

 "You mean Brett." 

 "Yeah, I mean Brett." Well, that was something, anyway. Ray sat down
casually on the arm of the couch. "And the people Brett works for. You
talk to me, and maybe you won't have to see the inside of a prison cell." 

 Holstein licked his lips nervously. "What do you want from me?" 

 "Names. Places. Everything you know." 

 "But I don't know anything!" He looked frantic. "Really. Brett never told
me anything." 

 That much was probably true. "Where'd you take the Mountie?" 

 At that, Holstein's face turned so white the change was visible even in
the dimness of the room. "The M-Mountie?" 

 "Yeah. Tall guy. Red suit. Pretty eyes. I'm sure you remember him." 

 Holstein hesitated, and Dief started up with another low growl. Holstein
took a half-step backward and caved. "We took him out west, to Snow's
place. Damn it, we'd just lost everything! We needed something to cover
our losses!" 

 Stupid, stupid man. Ray was surprised this Brett character ever let him
off his leash. "And where is Snow's place?" he asked, keeping his voice
mild. 

 "San Francisco. Look, I'll give you an address if you want. Just call the
fucking dog off, okay?" 

 San Francisco. Ray felt a thrill run up his spine that was almost
overpowering, but he kept his face carefully expressionless. "You'll tell
us about Snow," he said, "and Brett, and whoever else you can think of.
We'll want to know everything if we're gonna cut a deal." 

 Holstein nodded. "All right. All right. Shit." 

 Dief whuffed softly and glanced up at Ray. If Ray didn't know better,
he'd swear the wolf's eyes were laughing. 

 "Okay, then." He could hear a car pulling up outside the door, and he
went to the window to look outside. Huey and Dewey, right in the nick of
time. "These two officers coming in are going to take your statement. You
just give me Snow's address." 

 Holstein nodded again and cast one more anxious look in Dief's direction.
He went to the TV and snatched up a pen and a crumpled piece of paper from
the table there, and he scribbled for a moment before handing the paper to
Ray. 

 "That's it, man. That's where he is. That's where we left the Mountie." 

 Ray carefully smoothed out the wrinkles in the paper, feeling a sharp
lance of pain move through his chest when he tried to draw in a breath.
There was a knock on the door, and he moved woodenly to let Huey and Dewey
in. 

 Christopher Snow, the paper said. A name, and an address. 

 He briefed Huey and Dewey on what Holstein had told him, then left the
rat in their capable hands as he moved back outside. Dief followed beside
him, looking up at him every few steps. 

 "San Francisco," Ray said, as if the wolf could really understand him.
His eyes were burning for some reason, and he rubbed the back of his hand
across them irritably. "We're gonna go get Benny now, all right?" 

 Dief barked a sharp affirmative as he jumped into the car, tail wagging.
Ray ruffled the fur at the top of his head as he climbed in after him. 

 He was almost dead on his feet, but that didn't matter. He could sleep on
the plane. 

 They were going to bring Benny home.  

 After everything Ray had been through up until that point, the actual
raid on Snow's home was rather anticlimactic. The FBI had to be involved,
of course, since the crime went across state lines, but they actually
managed to do their jobs with a minimum of hassle. Everything went off
smooth as clockwork, and by the time Ray stepped off the plane at SFO,
most of the work had already been done. 

 He'd ended up leaving Dief in Chicago, since there wasn't time to make
arrangements to transport him. Ray felt the wolf's absence keenly as he
drove his rental car toward the hotel where Snow's recovered slaves were
being kept until the excitement blew over. 

 Apparently Christopher Snow had been running a stable of prostitutes out
of his home that catered to a city-wide clientele. A few of them had been
willing employees, but the majority of them were victims of the
international slave trade he organized. It was big money, not having to
give his workers a cut of the profit he made off them. Ray's hands gripped
the steering wheel hard as he thought about Benny being in that kind of a
situation. 

 Stable of prostitutes. Even thinking the words made him feel physically
ill. 

 He kept his thoughts studiously blank as he drove across town, and he
still managed to avoid thinking about things as he pulled up in front of
the hotel. It was a Holiday Inn, very snazzy, and he guessed it was
costing the FBI a small fortune to house the victims there. It was nice,
that they'd go to such lengths to make the victims feel comfortable. 

 And that was just wrong somehow. Ray stared hard at the ground in front
of his feet as he walked into the front lobby. "Victim" and "Benny" just
didn't belong in the same sentence together. 

 He flashed his badge for the receptionist at the front desk and asked to
see the head of the FBI detail assigned to the hotel. The young woman
looked flustered, but she immediately picked up her phone and started
dialing. 

 Ray was met at the front desk by a tall woman with short blond hair, who
looked like she could bench press Benny even on a bad day. Her dark
charcoal pantsuit screamed "FBI" from all the way across the room. 

 "Agent Halloran," she greeted him, reaching for his hand to shake it.
"You must be Detective Vecchio from Chicago." 

 Ray nodded. "Is he here?" 

 She gestured for him to follow her. "You're a friend of the Mountie's,
right?" 

 Again, Ray nodded, falling into step beside her. His nails were pressing
little crescents into his palms. "His name's Benton Fraser. Is he here?" 

 "Yeah, he's here. We got him a room on the third floor." Halloran punched
the button for the elevator, and they waited in silence for the doors to
open. Ray stayed silent during the ride up, and Agent Halloran seemed
content to leave him alone with his thoughts. 

 The upstairs hallway was carpeted in rich maroon with gold accents, just
like the lobby had been. It looked unspeakably gaudy to Ray at the moment.


 "Is he, uh ... is he okay?" he asked, breaking the silence. 

 Halloran glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "He spent the early
part of the afternoon at the hospital with the rest of them. I wasn't
there, but as far as I know, he got a clean bill of health." She paused,
looking uncomfortable for the first time. "They're going to have to wait a
few months to confirm the HIV tests. But so far no one's tested positive
for anything, as far as I know." 

 Ray stumbled to a halt at those words, swaying slightly. The hallway
seemed to swim around him, and he was barely aware of it when Halloran
reached out a hand to steady him. 

 "Whoa there." She guided him back against the wall, where he leaned hard,
grateful for the support. "Just breathe for a minute, okay?" 

 Oh god, she had no idea. No idea what it was like to have to deal with
this. "Benny," he said, not knowing what he was trying to explain to her,
or why. He sucked in a deep lungful of air. "He's not ... I mean, he..." 

 "I know." He voice was unexpectedly kind. "You're going to have to be
strong for him right now, all right? He's been through a lot." 

 "Yeah." Somehow, the words helped center him again. "Yeah." He wiped his
sweaty palms across the front of his thighs and stood up again. 

 Halloran didn't say anything else as she led the way down the corridor.
She stopped at a door in the middle of the hallway that looked identical
to all the others they'd passed by and knocked. 

 "Ben?" she called, leaning forward to talk through the closed door. "It's
Agent Halloran. I've got a friend of yours here to see you." 

 Ray fidgeted nervously while he waited. He wasn't sure why he should feel
nervous, but he did. 

 The door opened a crack, just far enough for Ray to notice that the chain
lock was still engaged. He caught a flash of a dark blue eye, and then the
door closed again quickly. There was a tense scrabbling as the chain lock
was removed, and then the door flew open. 

 "Ray." 

 It was Benny. Ray felt something thick catch up in his throat, and he
couldn't say anything for a moment. He could only stare, feeling that odd
burning sensation prick at his eyes again. 

 "Is everything all right?" Halloran asked, sounding uncertain. 

 Ben didn't look away from Ray. "Yes," he said. His voice sounded rusty,
like it hadn't been used in quite some time. His eyes were suspiciously
bright. "Everything's fine." 

 Halloran nodded and turned to leave them alone, giving Ray a last
encouraging squeeze on the arm. Ray didn't even notice when she left. 

 "So." He had to clear his throat a few times before he could say anything
further. "Are you going to invite me in?" 

 "Oh! Of course." Ben stepped back away from the door, giving Ray room to
enter. It was a nice room, spacious and all but spartan in its appearance,
with two double beds against the left-hand wall. Ben closed the door again
and locked it once Ray was inside. 

 That was new. Benny and locks had never had more than a passing
acquaintance before. Ray felt the burning in his eyes grow stronger. 

 Ben looked different somehow. His hair was a bit longer than Ray
remembered, and a loose lock of it hung across his forehead. He was
dressed in soft beige slacks and a dark green button-down shirt, opened at
the collar. Not his usual choice of attire at all. 

 "It's, um ... it's good to see you." God, he sounded like an idiot. He
wished he didn't feel so uncertain; it was Benny, for God's sake. 

 Ben smiled, and something inside of Ray loosened. "It's good to see you,
too, Ray." He hesitated for a moment, then gestured toward the table under
the window. "Do you want to sit down?" 

 "Sure." Ray was glad for the chance to look away for a minute. He felt
awkward, and he wasn't used to that. He couldn't remember ever feeling
this way around Benny, not since the first time they'd met and he'd called
Ben's dad's murder "the dead Mountie thing". He liked to think that they'd
come a long way since then. 

 There was silence for a moment as Ben walked over to the counter to pour
himself a cup of water. "You want anything?" he asked. 

 It seemed suddenly unbearable that Ben was being so ridiculously
courteous. "Hmm? Uh, no. No, thanks." 

 Ben nodded and moved back to sit down at the table. He took a long drink
of water and then turned to look out the window. 

 The silence seemed suddenly too heavy to bear. "Halloran said ... said
you had tests..." Ray winced. He'd be willing to bet that Ben sure as hell
didn't want to talk about that. 

 Nevertheless, Ben's voice was even when he answered, "I don't think we
have anything to worry about. Snow was very ... protective of his
investments." 

 The words were spoken with a complete lack of inflection that made Ray's
skin crawl. He shook his head, unable to deal with this yet, unable to
think of anything else to say. 

 "I knew you'd find me," Ben said quietly, taking another sip of his
water. 

 Ray stared at him. "They told you I was the one who found you?" 

 "No." Ben's voice was calm. "But it could only have been you." 

 Ray closed his eyes, feeling almost faint. Such trust, even after all
this time. 

 "Jesus, Benny," he said, and some of the raw emotion he was feeling
clawed its way up his throat, roughening the words. "I thought I'd never
see you again." 

 Ben's face remained impassive, but a muscle in his jaw jumped before he
spoke again. He didn't look away from the window. "I knew you'd find me,
Ray," he said again. 

 He could only imagine the kind of effort it was costing Benny to keep
this kind of control. Without thinking, Ray reached across the table to
touch his hand. "It's over, Benny. All right? It's done with. You're going
home." 

 Finally, Ben turned to look at him, and Ray felt his chest tighten at the
fierce storm of emotion he saw churning in that usually calm blue gaze. A
moment later, the emotion faded, slipping almost effortlessly behind the
Mountie mask that Benny utilized so well. 

 "Home," Ben said, dropping his gaze down to where Ray's hand was clasped
over his. He let his breath out in a long sigh. "That ... sounds good,
Ray." 

 Ray squeezed his hand tightly, blinking hard. It hardly seemed real that
the nightmare was finally over, that he was here, now, holding Benny's
hand. He felt like he hadn't slept in months, and he was suddenly tired.
So very tired. But none of that mattered now, because Benny was here, and
he was safe, and they were going home. 

 He couldn't wait to see the look on Diefenbaker's face when he saw them. 


 Dief, of course, gave a predictably effusive welcome when they got back
to Chicago. Turnbull had agreed to watch him while Ray was away, and he
was waiting in front of the airport when Ray and Ben arrived. Even though
it was against the airport's rules, he reached down to unclip the leash on
Dief's collar as soon as he saw the two of them step out through the front
doors. 

 Ray smiled as Dief made a beeline straight toward Ben, and Benny dropped
down to one knee just in time before sixty-plus pounds of enthusiastic
arctic wolf plowed into him. He rocked with the impact, and then he was
hugging Dief hard around the shoulders while Dief whined and licked
furiously at his face, tail wagging so hard it looked like he was about
ready to launch into orbit. 

 The sight made Ray feel warm inside, and he looked up at Turnbull with a
small grin. Turnbull was staying a respectful distance away, but he smiled
when he met Ray's gaze. 

 Finally, Ben and Dief's reunion came to an end, and Dief moved to Ben's
side, panting happily as he gazed up at him. Ben's face looked more
relaxed than it had since Ray'd first seen him in San Francisco yesterday
afternoon. 

 "Welcome home, sir." Turnbull moved forward as soon as Ben stood up
again. As always, he seemed nervous around his superior, but he looked
honestly happy to see him. "It's good to have you back again." 

 "Thank you, Turnbull. It's good to be back." Ben looked strangely formal,
even in casual clothes and loafers. 

 Ray figured the last thing he needed was to be reminded of work at that
moment. There would be time enough to get back in the swing of things
later. "Thanks a lot, Turnbull," he said, gesturing toward Dief. "I wish I
could have brought him with me, but..." He trailed off and shrugged. 

 "Oh, of course. I understand perfectly. It was truly my pleasure to look
after him for you." Turnbull tipped his hat slightly in the wolf's
direction. "He truly is a remarkable animal." 

 "Yes. He is." Ray glanced sideways at Ben, who was beginning to get that
strained look back again. "I think we'd better be going. Thanks a lot,
Turnbull." 

 "No problem. You'll stop by the Consulate later?" 

 "Sure." Anything to get him to leave. Ben was looking more and more
uncomfortable. Maybe it was the crowds. Shouldering his overnight bag, Ray
began to move forward toward the long-term parking area where he'd left
the Riv. He was relieved when Ben and Dief fell into step beside him. 

 He didn't say anything as he unlocked the car door and ushered Dief
inside. Ben climbed into the passenger seat beside him and sat stiffly,
staring out through the front windshield at the crowd that churned at the
other side of the parking lot. 

 Ray flexed his hands over the steering wheel for a moment without
starting the car, just enjoying the silence. It felt so normal to have Ben
sitting beside him here. It was something he'd thought he'd never get the
chance to experience again. 

 "So, where to?" he asked after a moment. "If you want, I can bring you
back to chez Vecchio and treat you to a home-cooked Italian dinner. Or we
can go back to your place and order out for pizza. I'm starved." 

 Ben's lip twitched slightly at that. "I'd really just like to go home
now, Ray. If that's all right." 

 "Sure." He'd figured as much, but he thought he had to ask. It was
entirely possible that Ben might feel uncomfortable being alone with
another guy without the FBI within easy shouting distance. He was relieved
that that didn't seem to be the case -- at least not with him. "Home it
is, then." 

 The drive to Ben's apartment passed in silence, punctuated only by Dief's
happy panting and the subdued murmur of the traffic outside. Ray parked in
front of the building and led the way upstairs. 

 Everything was just the way Ben had left it. Ray had personally seen to
the upkeep of the place, and he'd stopped by weekly to dust and clean.
He'd made sure the rent was paid on time each month, and there was more
than one night when he'd fought the urge to crash here in Ben's bed,
surrounding himself with the memory of Benny. 

 Strange how he seemed so much more aware of Ben's physicality, now that
he was thinking about what he'd gone through these past months. The
thought still made him feel ill, but there was no denying that Ben was an
incredibly attractive man. How many men had touched him since he'd been
taken away? How many women? And how much had they paid for the privilege?
God, a guy could go crazy thinking about things like that. Ray felt guilty
that it had even occurred to him. 

 And Benny'd made no hint that he was ready to talk about any of it. So,
fine. Ray would be here for him, and when he was ready to talk, he'd talk.


 "Thank you." Ben was looking at him now with eyes that were entirely too
knowing. It must be pretty obvious, the effort Ray'd gone through to keep
his place in shape while he was gone. 

 "No problem, Benny." Ray was embarrassed by Ben's gratitude. Like there
was any chance he could have done anything differently. He pulled his cell
phone out of the pocket of his coat. "What do you want on your pizza?" 

 Ben shrugged. "Whatever you want is fine." He wandered over to the window
and stood looking down at the street outside. He looked like he was afraid
to touch anything, like that would make it all shatter like an illusion
and disappear. 

 It was a feeling Ray could readily identify with. Clearing the sudden
gruffness from his throat, he busied himself calling the local pizza
delivery. 

 Dief was lying on the floor at Ben's feet when Ray turned back into the
room, gazing up at him with dark eyes. His tail was still whooshing slowly
across the floor behind him. Ray crouched down to scratch at the wolf's
head while he put his cell phone away. 

 "There's a patch of fur on his left side that seems shorter than the fur
on his right," Ben said unexpectedly. He was looking down at the two of
them now, and there was no expression at all in his eyes. "And it's a
slightly different color. Did anything happen to him?" 

 Ray coughed uncomfortably and dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yeah. He,
uh ... he took a bullet when those guys took you out of the Duval house.
It was touch and go for a while, but he made it through just fine." 

 Ben went about three shades paler at that, and Ray ached with the need to
reach out and touch him, reassure him. But he wasn't sure how Ben would
react to that, so he kept his hands to himself. 

 "He's fine now," he repeated, willing that lost expression off Ben's
face. "You can see that he's fine. He's been staying with me at the house.
Ma and the girls have been spoiling him rotten, and everyone loved having
him hang around at the station." 

 Ben nodded, seeming to process this. After a moment, he asked, "Was
anyone else hurt?" 

 Ray hesitated. "Yeah," he said reluctantly. "There was a patrol officer
on the back porch when those guys made a break for it. He was shot in the
chest, but he pulled through all right, too. No one was killed, Benny." 

 The relief on Ben's face was almost palpable. Trust him to feel guilty
for something he wasn't even conscious at the time to help prevent. His
gaze moved to the window again. "So how did you find me?" 

 Ray buried his fingers deep in Dief's scruff, drawing comfort from the
wolf's presence. "I, ah, tracked down some leads and found out that one of
Charles's cronies was a guy named Andrew Holstein. I studied his file and
figured he was the weak link in the chain." 

 Ben nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. He was." 

 That made Ray pause, wondering just how well Ben knew Andrew Holstein.
Determinedly, he forged on. "Well, he rolled over on his friends in about
two minutes flat, once I'd leaned on him a bit." He grinned wryly,
stroking over Dief's head. "Dief helped." 

 Dief looked up at him with tongue lolling. He looked like he was smiling.


 Even Ben seemed to smile a bit at that. "I can imagine." 

 There was an awkward silence for a while then that Ray was hesitant to
break. He wanted to ask just what Ben knew about Andrew Holstein, and
whether Holstein had been one of the men who'd ... abused him. He wished
he'd taken the opportunity to beat Holstein' face in when he'd had the
chance. 

 "Do you want to talk about anything?" he asked at last, without looking
up from his hand where it stroked slowly over Dief's fur. 

 There was a heartbeat's pause. "No." Ben sounded very certain of this.
"No, I really don't, Ray." 

 Ray swallowed thickly. "Okay. I just want you to know that I'm here for
you, all right? You can tell me anything you want to. Or nothing. I just
... I just don't want things to change between us. I'm your friend,
Benny." 

 This time when Ben looked at him, there seemed to be an honest warmth in
his eyes. He smiled slightly. "Thank you, Ray." 

 And that was okay then, he supposed. Ben apparently felt comfortable
around him, which was more than Ray figured he had a right to expect under
the circumstances. If he had to feel like he was being kept at arm's
distance for a while, well ... that was only to be expected. He could live
with that, even if it did rankle. 

 Ben was home. That was the only thing that mattered. 

 Giving Dief one last pat on the head, he stood up to see if the pizza guy
had arrived yet.  

 PART III: The Bargain 

 Ray wasn't quite sure where everything had begun to fall apart. At first,
it had seemed like Ben was adjusting well to being back home again. He'd
resumed his duties at the Consulate, although he'd stopped coming by the
station where Ray worked after the first week. Not that Ray could blame
him. He was probably getting irritated with the sideways looks and the
cautious greetings and the voices he could hear murmuring behind his back
whenever he left a room. The first day Ben called to say he wouldn't be
coming in, Ray had to fight the urge to stand up and scream obscenities at
the entire bullpen. 

 Why couldn't people just let it go? Sure, Ben'd been kidnapped. And yeah,
he'd been raped. God. Ray still hated to think about it. But handling him
with kid gloves wasn't going to make things any easier on him. 

 But the fact was, everyone knew he'd been one of Christopher Snow's
whores. That still seemed incomprehensible to Ray, like he'd slipped into
some kind of weird, Twilight Zone-esque mirror universe. He stopped by to
see Ben every evening, and Ben seemed grateful for his presence, even
though he still wouldn't discuss anything more personal than the weather.
Ray could tell by the lines around his eyes that he wasn't sleeping, but
he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it. 

 In fact, aside from the growing weariness in Ben's eyes, Ray would have
thought that he'd forgotten about the whole thing entirely. He'd gone to a
few mandatory meetings with a psychologist named Dr. Angelo before the
Dragon Lady'd let him come back to work, but those had passed without any
real acknowledgment between them and he'd eventually stopped going. Ray
felt it was a safe bet that Ben hadn't opened up any more to Dr. Angelo
than he had with him. 

 He could tell that Benny was having trouble adjusting to things again,
even though he was doing his best to hide it. It was subtle, but it was
there, if anyone bothered to look. He was quieter than Ray remembered, and
he spent a lot of time looking out the windows. That was new. Ray couldn't
help wondering if it was a habit he'd picked up during his time in
California, if maybe looking out of windows had been the closest to
freedom he thought he'd ever be again. 

 But of course, they didn't talk about it. That unstated agreement was
beginning to chafe a little, and Ray wasn't sure how much longer he'd be
able to hold up his end of the deal. He wanted to be there for Benny, and
he didn't want him to feel pressured, but it was becoming patently obvious
that Ben was in pain somewhere inside, and the wounds were not lessening
as time went by. 

 Which is what led to them spending yet another silent evening together in
Benny's apartment, steadfastly not talking about whatever was on their
minds. It was enough to make Ray feel kind of crazy at times, although he
carefully kept his frustration hidden. The last thing he wanted was to
make Ben feel like he was upset with him. 

 "I really can't stand this show." Ray shifted back in his chair and put
his hands behind his neck, stretching. This was new, too, that Benny had a
TV. Ray suspected he'd gotten it so they could spend time together without
having to actually talk about anything. 

 "It's not so bad." Ben didn't look away from the screen. Outside the
window, the sun was setting, and the fading light looked strangely eerie
as it mingled with the flickering light from the TV across his face. 

 Ray wasn't even sure what they were watching anymore. The endless
procession of old cop show reruns had become a staple of their evenings
during the week, and they all looked the same to him anymore. Just a big
gaudy conglomerate of overdone explosions and beautiful women who were
either too good to be true, or else evil incarnate. And of course the
dashing heroes always saved the day at the end of their allotted hour. 

 It was enough to make him want to throw the damned TV out a window.
Because in real life, problems didn't go away that easily. If they ever
did. And that was just too goddamned depressing to think about, that maybe
their problems would never really go away, that maybe this new, quiet,
impeccably demure Benton Fraser was here to stay. 

 "What is it that's still bothering you?" he asked, without really
planning to. It was almost funny, how easily he'd given up on his resolve
not to ask that particular question. 

 He could feel Ben looking at him. "What do you mean?" 

 Ray's smile twisted slightly. Way to dance around that bullet, Benny. 

 "I mean you." He turned in his chair, wanting to see Ben's face for this
one. "You've been acting strange ever since you came back home." 

 Ben's face was carefully expressionless. "I'd say I have reason," he said
quietly. 

 It was almost physically painful to dig like this, but Ray couldn't stop
now. Couldn't stop, not when it would mean going back to the unbearable
silence that had grown between them over the past several weeks. 

 "Yeah, you do. You have more reason than anybody. But that doesn't make
it any easier for me to know that you're hurting inside, and you won't let
me do anything to help." 

 Ben's eyes lowered, unwilling to meet Ray's gaze. And that hurt, even
though Ray knew it shouldn't. "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Ray."


 Ray sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "How about you start by telling
me when you're feeling bad. I'm not ... I'm not asking for details or
anything. But I'd like to be there for you, if you'll let me." 

 "You are there for me, Ray. You've been there for me every day." 

 That made Ray angry for some reason. "Yeah, sure, Benny. I'm here for
you. I'm here to watch TV and eat your food and sit around and talk about
the weather. You never ask me to come over. I feel like I'm intruding half
the time, like I'm interrupting some kind of private moment you've got
going here. Do you even want me here? Do you want me to leave? Because if
that's the case, you just have to say so." 

 Ben moistened his lips slightly before responding. "I don't want you to
leave, Ray." 

 Ray couldn't believe that he'd just lashed out at Ben that way. God, was
he insane? "Look, Benny." It was an effort not to just get up and walk out
of the room. He was making a mess of things. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to
explode like that." 

 "No." Ben straightened slightly, and for a moment, he almost looked like
the old Ben again. "No, Ray, you had good cause." He reached for the
remote and thumbed off the TV, cutting a pair of scantily-clad blondes off
in mid-caterwaul. "What is it you want to talk about?" 

 Ray shook his head, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.
"Whatever you want, Benny. Anything. Everything. I just want you to feel
comfortable enough with me to tell me what you're feeling." 

 "What I'm feeling?" Ben seemed to be trying the question on for size. 

 "Yeah. What you're feeling. Come on, Benny, it's not that difficult. We
used to talk like this all the time. Did you have a good day, bad day, how
many times did the Dragon Lady make you want to quit your job today? Or
make it simple. Just one word. Tell me what you're feeling right now." 

 Ben stared at him for a long moment before dropping his gaze again. Ray
knew this new Ben well enough now to know that was a bad sign. 

 He felt a sudden tightening in his stomach. "You're not ... you're not
hurting anywhere, are you?" It was something that hadn't even occurred to
him until now, that Ben might be in some kind of physical pain. 

 Ben smiled slightly. "No, Ray. Not ... in the way you mean." 

 "Well what, then?" Ray was growing increasingly frustrated with the
runaround that Ben kept trying to give him. 

 Ben sighed, lowering his gaze again. It was a moment before he answered.
"I suppose I'm just feeling ... guilty, I guess." 

 "Guilty?" Ray wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that sure wasn't it.
"What do you have to feel guilty for?" 

 Ben let out his breath in a long sigh, leaning further against the back
of his chair. The fading light from the window behind him cut his face in
vivid profile as he paused to gather his thoughts. 

 When he finally spoke, his voice was low. 

 "I fought them at first," he said, and something in the tone of his voice
made Ray's skin crawl. A part of Ray made him pull away slightly at those
words, not sure at all that he wanted to hear what Ben was telling him.
Ben continued as if he didn't notice Ray's reaction. "When I was first
brought to Snow's place. So he ... he gave me to people who wanted an
unwilling whore to play with." 

 An unwilling whore. Ray felt ill suddenly, and he rubbed his suddenly
clammy palms furiously against the front of his slacks. "Jesus, Benny," he
whispered. 

 Still, Ben refused to look at him. "They were ... rough. A lot of them
liked to ... to inflict pain, and Snow would let them, for an additional
fee." He laughed shortly, although the sound seemed more lost than amused.
"It didn't take me long to decide that I really didn't want to deal with
those types of people anymore." 

 Ray believed he could tell where this story was going. "So you agreed to
work for him. For people who didn't want someone who was ... unwilling." 

 "They paid more," Ben agreed. The calmness with which he said the words
was chilling. "It seemed to be a good business deal all the way around." 

 Ray felt as if a wildfire were trying to devour him from within, even as
his hands turned numb from the cold that settled over him. The thought of
Ben in that kind of a situation, being hurt, being forced to sell himself
like that... He shook his head. "You did what you had to, Benny. No one's
gonna blame you for that." 

 The look Ben turned on him was unreadable, touched with the barest echo
of pain. "I can still feel them touching me," he whispered. His voice was
hoarse. "You have to believe me, Ray. I never wanted ... never wanted..." 

 Instantly, Ray was moving forward, dropping to his knees beside Ben's
chair. Ben folded easily when he reached for him, leaning forward to bury
his face against the side of Ray's neck. Dief looked up from where he lay
in the lingering patch of sunlight underneath the window and whuffed
softly. 

 "It's all right, Benny." Ray was near tears now, even if Ben's eyes
seemed to be remaining stubbornly dry. His throat scratched painfully as
he struggled to find the right words to say. As if there were any words
that could make this situation go away. 

 "I admit to feeling rather disgusted with my reaction to all this." Ben's
voice was a soft breath against the side of Ray's neck. 

 That struck Ray as being indescribably ludicrous. "I'd say you're allowed
to feel upset, Benny. You were raped, for God's sake." He could feel Ben
flinch at the word, but Ray wanted him to hear it. Rape, not a willing
seduction. Not his fault at all. 

 It was a while before Ben spoke again, but Ray was perfectly content to
hold him. This was the closest Ben had let him get since this whole thing
had started, and not just in physical proximity. 

 Finally, Ben spoke. "Ray." 

 Ray smoothed his fingers lightly over the nape of Ben's neck, trying to
soothe the barely detectable tremors there. "Yeah, Benny?" he said,
watching as his breath stirred the soft strands of hair in front of his
face. 

 "Would you stay here with me tonight?" 

 The request caught Ray off guard. He pulled back slightly so he could
look Ben in the eye. "Are you sure you want that? I mean, I don't want you
to feel--" 

 "I don't want to be alone anymore, Ray." 

 And that was enough to decide Ray right there. This was the first thing
that Ben had asked of him since they'd returned from San Francisco, and
he'd be damned if he was going to refuse him now. 

 "Sure, Benny." He did his best to summon up a smile, knowing full well
that his effort wasn't entirely successful. "I'll stay here with you." 

 The relief on Ben's face at that would have been funny if it didn't make
Ray feel like he wanted to cry. He had to physically distance himself for
a minute so he could get himself under control, and he took the
opportunity to use his cell phone to call home and let his family know
he'd be spending the night at Benny's. As he'd expected, there was a
general furor over this announcement until he assured them that Benny was
fine, and he gave Ben a wry look that he thought might actually have been
echoed back at him. "Take care of him," Frannie made him promise, and he
did, just before he hung up the phone. 

 Ray stayed in the apartment while Ben went down the hall to shower, and
he was grateful when Dief padded up to sniff comfortingly at his hand. Ray
sat in front of the TV and ruffled the fur of the head Dief set in his
lap, smiling slightly when he saw the banked adoration in the wolf's gaze.


 "He's gonna be fine," Ray said quietly, glancing briefly at the shadows
that flocked at the corners of the room. The sun had set already, and he
really should get up to turn on a light or two. "He's gonna be just fine."


 Ben returned to the apartment dressed in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt,
with a dampened white towel draped around his neck. It was more clothes
than Ray was used to seeing him wear when he came back from the shower,
but he tactfully didn't comment on it. 

 "Why don't you go to bed?" Ray urged. He'd finally motivated himself to
turn on some lamps before Ben got here, and the white light flickered
softly over the damp strands of his hair. "You'll start feeling better if
you let yourself get some sleep." 

 Ben hesitated. "You'll be all right out here?" 

 "Sure. I'll watch a little TV, and maybe later I'll raid your fridge." He
grinned, feeling pleased when Ben smiled a little in return. "I think I've
got some clothes left here from last time, so I'll be good to go in the
morning." This wasn't the first time he'd crashed at Benny's place, though
usually it was because they were working on a particularly difficult case
and he didn't want to risk waking up his family at some ungodly hour of
the morning. 

 Ben relaxed a little at that, and he nodded. "All right. Good night,
Ray." 

 "'Night, Benny." Ray settled back in his chair in front of the TV, trying
for a nonchalant pose while he watched Ben disappear into the bedroom. As
soon as Ben was gone, he leaned his head back against the chair and
sighed, laying one arm across his eyes to block out the light from the
room. 

 He couldn't stop thinking about the things Ben had told him. They were
rough, They enjoyed inflicting pain, Snow let them ... for an additional
fee. Shit. Goddamn it. He felt tears pricking behind his closed eyelids,
but he ignored them, fighting the burn of the tears that wanted to claw
their way up from his throat. 

 A part of him wanted to go out and find Christopher Snow, wherever he
might be, and brutally introduce him to the real meaning of the word
"pain". Another part of him wanted to stay right here, by Benny's side,
and never, ever leave. The rapid swing between bitter rage and bleak
depression was making him dizzy, and he felt suddenly glad that he hadn't
been able to eat that much of a dinner, because he didn't think his
stomach would have been able to hold onto it in his current state of mind.


 He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke some time later
to feel Dief nuzzling wetly at his hand. Ray blinked groggily and glanced
down at the white-furred head in his lap, but before he could even think
to question why Dief had chosen to wake him, he heard a low, mumbling cry
coming from the bedroom. 

 Instantly, he was sitting bolt upright in the chair, heart pounding. Dief
whined softly, and Ray fondled the wolf's ears absently as he stood and
made his way to the bedroom door. 

 The door was ajar, and he pushed it open carefully. Ben's bedroom was lit
faintly by the dull gleam of the streetlights outside the window, and he
could see the huddled form in the bed against the far wall clearly. Ben
was covered in blankets up to his neck, lying with his back to the door,
and as Ray watched, he shifted slightly and let out another low moan. 

 The sound was heartrending. Ray moved into the room without thinking and
dropped down to his knees beside the bed, reaching for Benny's shoulder.
Ben stiffened under his hand, but made no move to pull away from him. 

 "Benny," he said quietly, leaning down to speak into Ben's ear. He shook
Ben's shoulder gently. "Benny, wake up. You're having a dream." 

 There was no real moment when he was aware of Ben coming awake, but
suddenly there were two round, dark eyes gazing up at him. Ben's skin was
warm under the thin fabric of his T-shirt, and Ray moved his hand away
quickly, feeling his face heat. Maybe in the darkness, Ben wouldn't be
able to see it. 

 "I'm sorry," he said, speaking just above a whisper. "I didn't want to
wake you, but..." 

 Ben nodded, closing his eyes again briefly. "It's all right, Ray. I've
been ... dreaming a lot lately." 

 Yeah, he probably was. That would certainly explain why he hadn't been
sleeping recently. Ray felt guilty that he hadn't thought of that before. 

 "Try to go back to sleep again," he urged, stifling a yawn as he moved to
stand up again. What time was it, anyway? "I'll be right in the other room
if you need anything." 

 To his surprise, Ben's hand snaked out from under the covers to snag his
wrist. "Don't go." 

 Ben's voice sounded almost desperate. Ray hesitated, glancing down at the
hand on his arm. "It's okay, Benny. I'll just be in the next room. If you
need anything, just yell, all right?" 

 "No. Please, Ray." Ben was shaking now, and his eyes were closed again,
as if he couldn't bear to meet Ray's gaze. 

 Ray's heart felt like it was going to crack open from the emotions that
were running through it. "What do you want, Benny?" he asked quietly. 

 Ben shuddered. "Sleep with me," he said, exhaling the words on a soft
sigh. 

 The words made Ray feel as if he'd just been doused with a bucket of ice
water. "Benny, I don't think--" 

 And just that fast, Ben's hand released him and disappeared again under
the blankets. "It's all right, Ray." He closed his eyes and burrowed down
against his pillow. 

 Ah, jeez. "Benny..." Ray fought the urge to curse out loud and drew up on
his knees, shrugging out of his suit jacket. "All right. Just give me a
sec, okay?" 

 He kept his gaze lowered as he folded the jacket carefully and set it
aside on top of the chest against the wall. Thankfully, Ben's eyes stayed
closed as Ray moved to unbutton his shirt. 

 "You, uh ... you got an extra pair of sweats I can borrow?" he asked,
feeling his cheeks grow warm again. Surely Ben didn't expect him to crawl
into that skinny excuse for a bed with his suit still on. 

 Ben nodded. "In the dresser." 

 Well, that was a relief, anyway. Ray stood up and padded over to the
dresser. He found the sweats in the third drawer down, and he cast a quick
glance over his shoulder to make sure Ben wasn't watching before he
stepped out of his slacks. 

 The air was cold against his skin, and he couldn't stop shivering as he
pulled Benny's sweat pants on. They were ridiculously loose on him, and he
had to tighten the cord around the middle as far as it would go just to
keep them from falling down over his hips. Still, it was better than
nothing. 

 He folded his clothes and laid them on top of his jacket, then moved
hesitantly to stand beside the bed. He felt almost unbearably naked, even
though he was wearing pants and a T-shirt. God, he couldn't believe he was
doing this. 

 "Are you sure you want me here?" he asked, wishing almost desperately
that Ben would say no. In the light from the windows, Benny's skin looked
almost golden, deepening to smoky paleness where the shadows touched him.
God, he was beautiful. 

 In response, Ben shifted backward and lifted up the edge of the blankets.


 Ray felt dizzy suddenly, and it took a moment before he could bring
himself to accept the invitation. Unexpectedly, tears pricked at his eyes
again. There was a level of trust being invoked here that suddenly made
him feel like a heel for being so uncomfortable with the situation. Ben
was desperately unhappy, and he wanted Ray to be here with him, to help
him feel like he wasn't quite so alone. The fact that he'd want anyone in
his bed at this point seemed like a minor miracle. 

 Suddenly determined, Ray slid into the bed next to Ben and settled on his
side, facing out across the room while Ben closed the blankets around him.
He startled when he felt Ben's arm slip around his waist, and then he
forgot how to breathe entirely when he felt a long length of warm skin
press up against his back. 

 "Uh, Benny?" he said, struggling to speak through the sudden pounding of
his heart. 

 "Go to sleep, Ray," Ben urged. Ray could feel the soft flutter of his
breath on the back of his neck. 

 Shit. Ray stared hard across the room at the open door, feeling his face
burn, and tried not to make his discomfort too noticeable. Did this seem
normal to Ben now? Falling asleep with another man in his arms? The
thought made a low roaring start up in his ears, and Ray squeezed his eyes
shut, willing the confusion churning in his gut to go away. 

 Of course it was reasonable that Ben's body would have developed certain
... expectations ... over the past several months. Willing or no, he'd
probably fallen into certain habits that were hard to break, even now.
Like having company while he slept. Was that why he hadn't been sleeping
well lately? The thought was troubling. 

 Jeez, Benny was putting out heat like a furnace. Ray shifted as
discreetly as he could, trying to edge away from him, but Ben followed him
with a low, sleepy murmur and he finally gave up. Ben was almost draped
across him now, and as uncomfortable as it was, Ray had to admit that
there was a certain ... novelty to being held like this. It was
comforting, in a strange sort of way. 

 Not to mention that it was making his skin itch in ways that he didn't
want to think about right now. Because Ben was a guy, for God's sake, and
more than that, he was Ray's friend. It was entirely inappropriate to be
feeling anything remotely like the slow, coiling pleasure that stubbornly
insisted on licking underneath his skin down into his groin. And feeling
this way because it was Benny pressed up against him was criminal, after
everything he'd been through. 

 Ray shifted again, unable to get comfortable. No matter what kind of
controls his head tried to instill on the situation, his body was
steadfastly refusing to listen. His cheeks flamed with the knowledge that
he was actually getting hard from this, and he angled his body away from
Benny so he wouldn't have to be made aware of it. It was perfectly normal
to feel this way, he assured himself. His dick didn't care who he was in
bed with; it just knew there was a warm body in bed with him when there
hadn't been one there for far too long. 

 He was mortified when Ben's hand slid down over his hip to brush across
the front of his pants, nudging up slightly against his erection. But
nothing could have prepared him for the low words that Ben murmured
against his neck. 

 "Would you like me to take care of that for you, Ray?" 

 Ray gasped, feeling as if he'd been pierced through the chest with a
sharp stick. His heart was pounding so forcefully it felt like it was
going to break right out through his ribcage. 

 "Benny, no," he said, trying to move his hips away. He was sweating now.
"God." 

 Ben didn't say anything, but his hand moved down again, tracing the ridge
of Ray's erection through the cloth that covered it. "Are you sure?" he
whispered. His voice stirred the hair behind Ray's ear, making him shiver.


 Ray felt like he'd slipped into some weird alternate dimension. This was
a side of Ben he'd never seen before, had never even dreamed existed. 

 "Benny." He tried to keep his voice calm. "You don't have to--" 

 "Please, Ray." There was something vulnerable about Ben's voice,
something wounded that tugged at Ray's heart. 

 No. No, this was wrong, no matter which way he looked at it. Guys just
didn't do guys, except that he knew perfectly well that they did. Okay, so
Benny didn't do guys, except Ray knew he had. Shit. Well, at least he
didn't do guys, and that, while true in the strictest sense, wasn't quite
enough to make him forget the way he'd been looking at Ben lately, or the
numerous subtle yet undeniable times over the years he'd caught himself
checking out certain acquaintances of the male persuasion when he came
across them. 

 But there was no way he could take advantage of Ben that way, even if he
was so inclined. Ben was trusting him, Ben was fucking damaged after his
time in California. Ray was the one who had to be strong here. 

 His resolve wavered as Benny's hand moved over him, stroking him lightly
through the thin material of the sweat pants. Ray couldn't stop his hips
from surging forward into the touch, but he got himself under control
again with an effort. He could hardly breathe at all now, and Benny's
breath was panting lightly behind his ear. 

 "Please, Ray," Ben said again, and Ray closed his eyes at those words,
shuddering. God. Ben seemed so needy, like he honestly wanted to do this
for him. But he couldn't. Could he? Would it hurt or help the situation if
he turned Benny down? 

 "God, Benny." It wasn't the most intelligent response he could have come
up with, but it was all he seemed able to say. Ben was still stroking him
slowly, and Ray bit down hard on his lower lip when he felt those agile
fingers moving at the cord tied around his waist, loosening the knot. 

 "Benny..." One last plea, lost in the wave of sensation that was crashing
through him. He felt like he'd fallen into some bizarre rift in reality,
like nothing that was happening was actually real. Surely he wasn't lying
here in Benny's bed, harder than he'd ever been around a woman before,
with Benny's hand sliding in underneath the elastic of his pants to touch
him ... to touch him there... 

 "Oh, God." He arched as Benny's fingers closed around him, and Ben was
right there behind him, supporting him as he melted into the touch. His
head fell back against Ben's shoulder, and he shuddered as he felt Ben's
dry lips brush across his cheek. 

 "It's all right, Ray." Ben's voice was soothing. "Just relax. I've got
you." 

 Ray closed his eyes and gave in with a sigh, drifting on the sensations
that spiraled through him. He felt Ben kiss him again, against his neck
this time, and then Ben was laying him back against the bed so he could
lean over him and kiss him on the mouth. 

 Ben tasted like toothpaste and the lingering traces of the tea he'd had
with supper. Before Ray could fully register the fact that he'd just
kissed his best friend, Ben pulled away from him, and Ray's eyes flew open
when he felt a warm weight settle between his thighs. Panic thudded to
instant life inside his chest, but then Ben's hand was inside his pants
again, sliding warm fingers down the length of his erection. Point and
match. The last of Ray's uncertainty about whether he should allow this to
continue evaporated, and he groaned long and low as his hips bucked up
sharply into the touch. 

 "It's okay," Ben whispered against his lips. "Trust me." Ray's brain
fizzled and threatened to short-circuit entirely when he felt the tip of
Ben's tongue trace across his lower lip. 

 Trust him. Of course Ray trusted him. Ray had absolutely no idea what was
happening, or how they'd gotten to this point, but trusting Benny was
something he was good at. He let his head fall bonelessly against the
pillow and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Ben's hand on his
dick. God, that felt good, and his hips were moving now in steady
counter-rhythm as Ben's fingers moved over him. 

 Even so, he had to say something when Ben started to pull the pants down
over his hips. He scrabbled for Ben's hand and held on tightly, stopping
him from doing anything further. 

 "Ben," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. "Benny. You don't have
to do this." 

 Ben smiled at him, his face hovering like a Raphaelite painting over
Ray's midsection. "It's okay, Ray," he said again, patiently. His voice
was thick and dark, with an underlying huskiness to it that arrowed
straight into Ray's groin. "I want to." 

 And then Ray's world eclipsed as Ben's mouth closed over his erection,
surrounding him completely in a soft, wet heat that shivered straight down
to his bones. 

 Jesus Christ. 

 The world seemed to fall out from under him as he fell victim to the
assault of those mobile lips and tongue, and his fingers tightened in the
silky tangle of Ben's hair. Ben grunted in what might have been approval,
and he ran a soothing hand over Ray's stomach, guiding him through the
storm of emotion and pleasure that washed through him. 

 Ray could already feel his orgasm coiling at the base of his spine. Jesus
fucking Christ, Ben was good at this. And that was something he did not
want to think about, how Ben might have come by this level of expertise.
He threw his head back hard against the pillow as Ben pulled off him in
one long, slow, sucking glide, and then engulfed him again in a tsunami of
wet heat that took his breath away. 

 He cried out Ben's name as he came, and the sound echoed eerily in the
still room. Afterward, he lay panting up at the ceiling while Ben moved
back up to lay beside him. Ray's nerves were still jangling from the
effects of the sensual assault, but somehow he had the presence of mind to
realize that Ben seemed to have withdrawn inside himself again, as if that
sexy, needful stranger had only come out to play long enough to see that
Ray's needs were taken care of. 

 God, this was so fucked up. This wasn't how Ray had wanted it to be at
all. Not that he'd wanted any of this to happen, but it certainly wasn't
how he would have wanted his very first sexual experience with Benny to
turn out. Ray reached for him and felt relieved when Ben folded against
him, burying his face in against the side of Ray's neck and shaking in his
arms. 

 He could tell by the hard heat against the side of his thigh that Ben
hadn't come yet. That might account for a lot of the subtle tremors moving
through him, but not all of them. Ray was suddenly achingly certain that
Ben would just as easily deny his own arousal and go to sleep if Ray told
him to. Was it something he'd been made to do before? 

 "Oh, Benny," he sighed, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. This had
been a bad idea from the very start, and now he wasn't sure how to make
things right again. He slid a hand down Ben's sweat-dampened back and
pressed lightly at the base of his spine, encouraging that warm body to
move against him. Apparently Ben had shed the sweats before coming to bed,
because he was dressed only in a pair of thin boxers now. 

 "Ray," Ben whispered, sounding pained, but he rolled forward against Ray
and began thrusting his hips slowly, settling his erection into the hollow
at the front of Ray's hipbone. Ray let him, guiding him gently with the
hand on his back, and murmured soothingly in his ear. He wasn't even sure
what he was saying, but it seemed to have the desired effect, because Ben
suddenly relaxed against him, increasing the force of his thrusts and
panting harshly as he neared the edge. 

 He came with a low groan, muffling the sound against Ray's neck, and Ray
held him tightly while the tremors rocked through them both. Ben was
crying now, a warm, near silent flood of tears that seemed somehow more
tragic for the lack of energy behind them. He still wouldn't look up at
Ray, but he seemed relaxed now in a way that he hadn't been since he came
home from San Francisco. 

 "God, Benny, I'm sorry." Ray pressed a kiss to the side of Ben's face and
just held him, feeling numb inside. He wasn't sure he felt any better than
the men who had raped Benny in the past, or if maybe this was something
Ben had desperately needed, and the uncertainty was tearing him apart. But
for now the only thing he could think to do was to hold Benny, and be here
for him, and let him know that he wasn't alone. 

 After a few minutes, Ben quieted and settled against him with an
exhausted sigh, resting with one arm draped forward across Ray's stomach.
Ray kept one arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders and stared up at the
ceiling as he awkwardly reached down to pull his sweat pants back up over
his hips. 

 Ben's body felt good against him, warm and comfortingly solid, and Ray
closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of him. He smelled like soap and
clean sweat, and the air was tinged ever so faintly with the scent of
their sex. Not a smell he normally associated with Benny, but it was one
he thought he might be able to get addicted to, if given half a chance.
Either that, or it was going to drive him stark raving mad. 

 He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about his abrupt slide into
homosexuality, but it seemed to be bothering him much less than he'd
expected it would. Maybe because it was Benny he'd just had sex with, and
he already knew they loved each other, whether or not there was anything
sexual between them. As a matter of fact, it really just felt like an
extension of the friendship that was already in place between them --
Benny had needed him, and Ray'd been there for him, even in this. 

 And he felt it was a sure bet that Benny wouldn't have let anyone else
close enough to him to do this. Not now, not after what he'd been through.
So maybe it wasn't a total disaster that they'd taken this step. Maybe,
just maybe, everything would be all right after all. 

 Feeling somewhat comforted, Ray closed his eyes and allowed himself to
drift off to sleep.  

 PART IV: Derailment 

 Ben seemed to fall into a bit of an equilibrium after that, and he even
started coming by the station again. Ray fully expected that to be the end
of the sex thing between them, but Ben surprised him the following night
by pressing him up against the wall as soon as they stepped inside the
door of his apartment, and reaching for the button of his slacks. 

 "Benny," he said in protest, reaching for Ben's wrists and holding them
away from his body. His heart was pounding, and Ben's eyes looked like two
open wounds as they gazed up at him from where he knelt on the floor. 

 "Please, Ray," Ben said to him, and Ray let his head fall back against
the wall with a groan. Ben's hands moved at his waist, and then his
suddenly aching erection was being engulfed in that familiar wet heat once
again. 

 Afterward, when he managed to pull his few remaining brain cells back
together, he pulled Benny into the bedroom and undressed him. He wasn't
entirely sure that it was the right thing to do, but he couldn't just
leave things like that between them. And how could he possibly chastise
Benny for doing that? 

 It still blew him away that Benny would trust him like this. He wanted to
let Benny know how much that meant to him, but as usual, words failed him
right when he needed them most. It had been the same way with Ange, all
those years ago. 

 But that wasn't going to be good enough this time. Benny meant more to
him than anyone he'd ever known, and he wanted to make sure that Ben knew
it. And so he tried to let Ben know how he felt in the only way he knew
how -- with actions, instead of words. His hands were shaking, but Ben
didn't seem to notice, and he responded so sweetly to Ray's caresses, his
kisses. Ray wanted to show him what it could be like between two people
who cared about each other, what it was like to be made love to, to be
touched with love instead of greed. 

 He wasn't entirely sure that Ben was getting the message, but when he
came, it was Ray's name on his lips. Ray devoured the sound hungrily,
feeling like he was flying, riding the incredible high of knowing he'd
been to the one to make Benny feel this way, lose control this way. Ben
clung tightly to him, breathing heavily against the side of his neck, and
for a short while, it seemed that the shadows around them lifted. 

 It became habit to have Ben service him whenever they stepped inside his
apartment at the end of the day. Ray was uncomfortable with the
arrangement, but he didn't have the will to stop it. It felt so good to
make love to Benny, and in truth, Ben seemed to be facing the outside
world with more confidence now. But there was still something subtle about
the way Ben approached him at the start of their encounters that made Ray
feel dirty inside. 

 It was enough to prompt him to take some action of his own one evening.
It was a night just like any other night, and he wasn't sure what made it
different except that they walked into the apartment and Ben set his bag
of groceries down on the counter, and when Ben turned to him Ray grabbed
him by the wrist and told him "No". 

 The look on Ben's face made him feel like he'd just kicked a puppy.
Instantly, Ray released his wrist and took a step backwards. 

 "You don't have to do this," he said, feeling his chest clench up at the
shuttered look that fell across Ben's eyes. He stuttered for a moment
before he was able to continue. "I-I mean, maybe you want to watch TV. Go
for a walk or something." He shrugged helplessly. 

 The misery on Ben's face only deepened. "I understand, Ray." He turned to
unpack the groceries, the tension he obviously felt evident only in the
taut curve of his spine. 

 Ray stared at him, feeling wretched. "Benny..." He stepped up behind Ben,
reaching to massage his shoulder lightly. The tense muscles under his hand
did not loosen. "It's not that I don't like what you do for me. I love
it." He'd be willing to bet there wasn't a soul alive who'd say they
didn't like it when Benny was giving head. The thought filled him with a
sense of despair. "I'm just saying that ... that there's lots of other
things we can be doing, too, you know?" 

 "Of course, Ray." Again with the distant, polite Mountie-voice. Shit. 

 Ray was beginning to panic. He hadn't seen Benny this detached since he'd
first come back from San Francisco. It was a huge step backward, when he'd
honestly thought that Benny was starting to get better. 

 "What do you want to do tonight?" he asked, relentlessly ignoring the
cold shoulder Ben was giving him. It was an effort to keep his voice even.
"You want to go out for a walk in the park with Dief? Or maybe we can go
watch a movie. I think there's a new James Bond film opening up at the
Cinemaplex." 

 Ben crossed the kitchen to put a can of tomato sauce away in the
cupboard, still not looking at him. "Whatever you want, Ray." He seemed to
be trying for some kind of levity, which was somehow worse than if he'd
been totally disinterested. He gave Ray a quick smile when he came back
toward the counter. "Really." 

 Goddamn it. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. Ray felt his
resolve, such as it had been, snap completely under the weight of those
sad blue eyes. 

 "If we're gonna make love tonight, we're gonna do it my way this time,"
he said, hoping that this at least might make some kind of difference. "In
bed. All right?" 

 Ben nodded, although the strained look didn't leave his eyes. Ray moved
forward tentatively to hold him, and Ben opened for his kiss readily
enough. Ray was willing to take it slow, to maybe work out some kind of
dialogue between them, but Ben wasn't in the mood for talking. He took
Ray's hand and urged him gently toward the bedroom, and Ray went,
recognizing himself for the coward he was. 

 Ben undressed him almost reverently, and Ray caved completely under the
soft seduction of kisses and touches that Ben lavished on him. Once again,
this wasn't what he'd intended, but he seemed powerless to resist Ben's
disturbingly skillful advances. Not without hurting him, anyway, not
without making him feel rejected. 

 Once Ben got Ray in bed, he proceeded to suck him off eight ways from
Sunday. *Point for you, Benny,* Ray thought crazily as he came down off
the edge, sobbing his release into the blankets as Ben coaxed the last
lingering tremors out of his body. Only after Ray was completely wrung dry
did Ben relax enough to let Ray touch him. 

 In the morning, after Ray showered and got himself dressed for work, he
found himself stealing worried glances at Ben whenever he thought he
wasn't looking. He had to go in to work, but it was Ben's day off today,
and that was making him inexplicably nervous. 

 "You gonna be all right today?" he asked, finishing up his coffee and
staring at Ben across the table. Ben had barely touched the breakfast he'd
made for them. 

 "I'll be fine, Ray." Ben pushed his scrambled eggs around on his plate
with his fork and looked up at Ray with a small smile. 

 It was almost enough to be convincing, except for the complete lack of
expression in his eyes. Ray frowned when it occurred to him that he was
afraid to leave Ben alone today. 

 "How about I stop in and see you on my lunch hour?" he suggested. It was
an effort to keep his voice steady. Ben hadn't fallen into a depression
like this since before they'd started sleeping together, and it was
worrying him. 

 "Sure, Ray." Ben lowered his gaze again. "If you want to." 

 So they were back to this again, were they? Yes, Ray, Of course, Ray,
Whatever you want, Ray. The thought made Ray feel suddenly furious, and he
stood up abruptly, snatching up his unfinished dish and carrying it over
to the sink. 

 "I'll be here at noon," he said, uncomfortably aware that the words
sounded like a command. He turned on the faucet to rinse his plate into
the garbage disposal and made a conscious effort to soften his voice.
"Maybe we can take Dief out and eat in the park or something." 

 Ben didn't respond, and Ray reluctantly got ready to go. He really
couldn't stand the wounded-puppy look in Ben's eyes, and it didn't help
matters any to know that he'd been the one to put it there. 

 It was beginning to occur to him just how fucked up their relationship
actually was. The depression that seemed to have fallen over Ben since
last night terrified him. What had he done? He never should have had sex
with Ben that first time, should never have taken advantage of him in that
way. Now it had all spiraled out of control, and he didn't know how to
make things right for either of them. Apparently Ben seemed to feel that
his self-worth was inextricably tied to his performance in bed. Was he
thinking that Ray didn't love him anymore, didn't want him anymore, just
because he'd said that he didn't want to have sex with him? 

 But the truth was, Ray did want to have sex with him. It was an ache
inside him, trying to claw its way out, and it stayed with him all through
the morning while he went about the usual motions of doing his job. And it
was more than just the sex aspect of it, he realized -- he was in love
with Benny. He wanted Benny, wanted to be with him in every way that Ben
would allow. It didn't seem to matter any longer what the rest of the
world might think of their relationship. He just knew that he loved Benny,
and he wanted to erase the lingering pain that still lived inside him in
any way he could. 

 It was still a daily struggle to fight the urge to hunt Snow down in
whatever penitentiary the Feds had secreted him off to and pull payment
for that pain out of his hide. With interest. Ray was just glad that the
FBI had found enough evidence of Snow's involvement in illegal drug sales
and gun running that the charges for rape and illegal prostitution had
been secondary. Ray wasn't sure how Ben would have reacted if he'd been
forced to appear in court personally to testify against him. 

 But even so, Ray couldn't help but feel that it made the whole thing lack
a certain kind of closure. Just the thought that some people thought of
what had been done to Benny as secondary was enough to make him want to
commit murder all over again. 

 It wasn't entirely a surprise that when he made it back to Benny's place
for lunch, they never made it to the park. It was so hot to see Ben down
on his knees in front of him, naked skin gleaming in the light from the
window as he pulled Ray's pants down around his thighs. Ray felt guilty
over the pleasure he took from this, but the pleasure was there
nonetheless. He knew for a fact that if he ordered Benny to suck him off
under his desk at the station house in the middle of the day, he'd do it
without a second thought. That feeling of power was heady, exhilarating,
terrifying, and heartbreaking all at the same time. 

 Ray's legs were still shaking when he went back to work, and he buried
himself behind the mound of paperwork on his desk, hoping that no one
would notice the telltale signs that he'd just gotten laid. Jesus, he'd
never had sex this often in his life. Sex on demand, sex on the merest
suggestion... He was beginning to think he wasn't going to survive much
more of this. He couldn't tell whether the thought made him want to laugh
or cry. 

 And of course Ben was there to meet him when he got home that evening.
Ray was spending all his nights with Benny now, and his family didn't seem
to think that was at all strange. Because obviously Benny was hurting, and
he needed to have someone there with him, and that someone was obviously
going to be Ray. 

 If only they knew the real reason Ben wanted him there. The thought
filled Ray with a fair amount of bitterness, but as always, that feeling
went away as soon as he stepped into Ben's apartment and closed the door
behind him, and allowed Ben to draw him further inside. 

 At least he'd convinced Ben to stop attacking him as soon as he got
inside the door. Ben was quiet while they ate their dinner that night, and
Ray could still see signs of the depression that had fallen over him the
previous evening. He wished he could have gotten here sooner; he'd gotten
home late from work tonight, and the sky outside the windows was dark.
Dief was already asleep on the floor by the radiator under the living room
window. 

 They were cleaning up the dishes together when Ray decided to grab the
bull by the horns. 

 "Benny," he said, looking at Ben cautiously out of the corner of his eye.
"I think we need to talk." 

 Ben froze for a moment at that, and the muscles in his jaw tightened. His
expression remained impassive, though, as he finished putting the dishes
away in the cupboard. 

 Ben's silence was frustrating, and Ray turned away for a moment to keep
from saying something he knew he'd regret later. That was a tactical
error, he realized a moment too late. Before he knew what had hit him,
Benny was pressed up against his back, one arm snaking forward around his
chest while the other moved down to work on the belt buckle at his waist. 

 Ray gave a little shudder and leaned back against him, closing his eyes
against the feel of the warm lips nuzzling at his ear. Damn, but Benny
always knew how to get to him, and this kind of blitzkrieg kamikaze
all-or-nothing assault did it for him every time. Ray knew full well that
he should put a stop to this and try to continue their conversation, but
he didn't do anything to protest as Ben's hand slid down inside his pants
and cupped his awakening erection. 

 Apparently Benny didn't feel like talking. 

 By the time Ray got to the bed, he could hardly remember his own name.
Ben laid him back against the sheets and then proceeded to kiss, touch,
suck, and tease him right up to the edge, as if he were chastising him for
his refusal the night before. Ray was almost sobbing into the pillow by
the time Ben slid up beside him, naked skin against naked skin, and
pressed a thin foil packet into his hand. 

 Ray froze, trying to surface through the fog of pleasure and need
writhing inside his brain. He glanced down, feeling a strange numbness
crawl through him even as Ben's hand traced up the inside of his thigh. 

 "Benny," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. There couldn't be
any question what Ben was asking of him. 

 Ben's eyes had that wounded look in them again. "I want you to, Ray.
Please." He bent down to kiss Ray on the lips, breathing out softly
against his face. 

 Still, Ray hesitated, and Ben took the initiative by taking the condom
from his nerveless fingers and removing it from its packet. Ray stared at
him, unable to breathe as Ben rolled it on over his erection. Ray's hips
arched up off the bed involuntarily at the sensation, and he closed his
eyes against the sight of Ben's knowing smile. 

 "God, Benny," he whispered, but Ben was stroking him through the rubber
now, making sure he didn't lose his concentration. Why had Ben decided to
offer this to him tonight? Because he wanted to? Or because he felt he had
to? Ray could only imagine what it had taken for Ben to offer himself like
this, and once again Ray felt like he was being entrusted with something
more precious than life itself. 

 "I ... I don't want to hurt you, Benny," he said hesitantly. And that was
true on so many levels. 

 Ben smiled and kissed him again, sliding a leg across Ray's stomach and
settling his weight down across his thighs. "Don't worry, Ray. You won't."


 God, he looked incredible up there. All that smooth expanse of skin,
flushed dark with arousal. His hair was tousled, and his lips looked
pleasantly swollen from kisses; he looked like an angel fallen prey to the
sins of the flesh. 

 Beautiful. 

 Ray's eyes widened when he saw Ben pop the cap off the thin tube in his
hands, and his breath caught in his throat all over again as he watched
Ben squeeze out a small dollop of clear gel onto his fingers. He gave Ray
a quietly smoldering look and then dropped his gaze again, lifting up
slightly off Ray's hips so he could reach around behind himself. 

 Ray caught his lower lip between his teeth and groaned, long and low. He
knew what Ben was doing back there, and the knowledge seared through him
with a heat that flickered like wildfire under his skin, burning away the
last remnants of his conscience, or his common sense, or whatever else
would have convinced him to stop this from happening. He stared as Ben's
head tipped back with an expression of sheer rapture on his face, hips
flexing slowly as he fucked himself on his own fingers. 

 It was like looking into the sun, like staring hard at something that was
so bright it burned. But Ray couldn't look away, couldn't look away, and
then Ben was drawing up onto his knees, balancing himself on shaky thighs
as he reached down to steady the base of Ray's erection. Ray grunted
softly, because all of a sudden he was right there, pressed tight against
that humid heat, and he was shaking, because he couldn't believe this was
real, couldn't believe that this was really happening. He had one last
moment of sanity, of reason, and then Ben lowered himself slowly, taking
Ray's body inside his own. 

 Ray squeezed his eyes shut, forgetting how to breathe as that hot sheath
moved down over him -- oh God, oh Jesus, he was actually inside Benny now
-- and Ben's eyes fluttered closed as he let out his breath in a gusting
sigh. 

 "Benny. God, Benny. Caro..." Ray wasn't even aware of the words that
clawed their way out from his throat, and he clung hard to Ben's hips with
both hands, forcing himself through sheer will not to thrust as that slick
heat closed around him. God, it was tight in there, tight and hot and it
felt so damned good it was all he could do not to come on the spot. It was
nothing like being inside a woman, nothing like anything he'd expected at
all. 

 "Ray." Ben was breathing hard now, and his voice was shaky. There was a
small frown of concentration etched between his brows, and a single
droplet of sweat rolled down over his cheek to hang suspended on the edge
of his jaw. The sight of it made Ray thirsty. 

 And then he started to move, and oh God... Ray gasped and arched back
against the pillows behind his shoulders, clenching his hands hard around
Ben's hips in order to keep himself from thrusting, from taking, even if
this was the tightest, hottest place he'd ever been in his entire life,
and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to come out again. 

 "Ray," Ben said again, drawing it out this time. Ray shuddered, panting
harshly and shaking with the effort of holding still, of letting Ben set
the pace. He could feel the muscles of Ben's thighs pressing tight against
either side of his hips, moving in rhythm with the soft glide of skin that
moved over him, around him, over and over again. Ben moved like a dancer,
fluid as silk, and Ray stared up at him, mesmerized by the beauty that was
Ben caught up in the rhythm of sex. 

 It didn't last, of course, even though Ray wanted it to. Ben's cock was
hard and leaking, flushed dark with the arousal that colored him straight
up to the roots of his hair. He was panting hard now, his eyes wide and
dark, and Ray reached up to touch his face, thinking that at this moment,
Ben was the most erotic sight he'd ever seen. Ben's eyes closed to slits
as he bent forward to kiss Ray's fingers, flicking his tongue out to lick
his palm, and that was all it took. Ray came hard with Benny's name all
but ripped out of his throat, and the world faded to a single point of
hot, white light around him. 

 A moment later, Ben was shuddering against him, bending over and grunting
hard in his ear. Ray's arms closed around him, feeling the hot flood of
Ben's release spurt out across his stomach, and he pulled Ben down to
cover his mouth in a kiss, drinking in the last of his cries. 

 Ben collapsed against him with a sigh, returning the kiss languidly as
Ray rolled them both over onto their sides. He felt his dick fall free of
Benny's body, and Ben grunted in what may have been discomfort, curling
his arms forward around Ray and snuggling in against his side. Ray pulled
off the used condom and tossed it one-handed toward the wastebasket by the
wall. 

 They were both a mess, but Ray didn't care. He stroked the back of Ben's
head and pressed a kiss to the side of his face, feeling as if he were
drifting somewhere free of his body, bound only by the warmth of the
tender body in his arms. "Love you," he found himself whispering, barely
aware of the words as they left his mouth. "Ti amo, Benny, bello Benny..."


 Ben's arms tightened around him, and he murmured something sleepily in
reply. Ray smiled and nuzzled in against his hair, breathing in the rich,
sweaty scent of him. 

 He was still murmuring softly against Ben's hair as he drifted off to
sleep.	

 It was the following evening, after they'd come home from work and were
seeing about cooking something for supper, that Ray decided something had
to change. It seemed ridiculous that he knew what Ben felt like on the
inside now but he still didn't feel comfortable talking to him about their
relationship. Ben didn't like to talk anymore; he much preferred action,
and that action generally took place in bed. 

 The memory of last night made Ray's face grow warm with remembered
arousal. 

 Ben was standing in front of the stove, barefoot in jeans and a loose
T-shirt. His hair was tousled, and his skin still had a residual flush to
it from the cold air outside. God, he looked like sex incarnate, and Ray
had to clear his throat nervously a few times before he was able to speak.


 "Benny," he said, pausing in the act of setting the table. "I really do
think we need to talk." 

 Ben didn't look up from where he was frying hamburger patties over the
stove. There was a heartbeat's pause before he answered. "What about,
Ray?" His tone was casual, as if he hadn't just seduced Ray out of
broaching this same subject the night before. 

 Ray sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "You know what, Benny. About this ...
this thing between us." 

 Ben turned off the stove and came toward the table with the frying pan in
one hand and a hot plate in the other, dropping a light kiss on Ray's lips
in passing. "I'm not sure what there is to talk about." 

 Ray had almost forgotten how infuriating Ben could be, when he wanted to
be. He watched as Ben went into the kitchen to fetch the rolls off the
counter and then tensed when he came up to him again, slipping an arm
around his waist and leaning in to nuzzle at his cheek. 

 "Come on, Ray." Ben's breath was warm against his skin. "I'm starving." 

 There were so many ways that statement could be interpreted. But there
was no way Ray was going to let himself be distracted the way he'd been
last night. 

 And so Ray chose to interpret the words in the strictest possible sense.
"Fine. We'll eat first, then." He took his place at the table reluctantly,
trying not to notice the disturbed cast in Ben's eyes as he took the seat
across from him. Jesus, what did Ben think he wanted to say to him? 

 It turned out to be a quiet dinner, and most of the leftovers ended up
going to Dief. Ray cornered Ben before he could move to start washing the
dishes, stopping him with a hand on his arm as he moved to stand up from
the table. 

 "We really do need to talk," Ray said, wishing Ben would trust him. 

 Ben's eyes met his briefly and then slid away again. "I don't want to
talk, Ray." 

 The words hurt, even though Ray knew they shouldn't. Ben obviously
trusted him with his body; why couldn't he trust him with his heart? 

 A part of him wanted to respect Ben's wishes, to just let go of whatever
doubts were stirring in him and go on as they had been, but he knew he
couldn't do that. He still couldn't erase the fear that he was using
Benny, no matter what assertions Ben made to the contrary. At the very
least, he needed to know that Ben wanted him for something more than sex.
It made Ray feel sleazy, and he never wanted to feel that way around Ben. 

 "Benny," he said again, and this time the look Ben gave him was bordering
on annoyed. 

 "Ray," Ben said back to him, lips twitching slightly as he took a step
toward him. Ray scrambled backwards quickly, knowing that if he let Ben
get his hands on him, this conversation would be over before it started. 

 "No, Benny." Ray held up his hands in a stop gesture and backed up
another step. "We are not going to do anything tonight unless we talk
first." 

 Ben's expression went immediately blank, but he took another slow step
forward, reaching out to trail his fingers down Ray's cheek. "Are you
sure, Ray?" 

 Ray shivered under the light caress, knowing all too well what Ben was
trying to do. Very deliberately, he pulled Ben's hands away from his body
before he could succumb to temptation. 

 "Ben," he said, realizing too late that the agitation he felt sounded too
much like anger. "Sit down." 

 Ben stared at him with wide eyes, and Ray realized with a sick feeling
that Ben would have heard the words as a command. Which they were, but Ray
hadn't meant it that way. He didn't think of Ben like that, like he was
property to be ordered around, but he could tell by the sudden uncertainty
in Ben's eyes that Ben didn't feel sure of that, even after all this time.


 Shit. 

 Ray was shaking now, but he refused to back down. The only other
alternative was to apologize and let Ben take him into the bedroom, and
that wasn't going to do either of them a bit of good. Last night had
broken something in him, and he couldn't pretend anymore that he was okay
with this ... arrangement between them. Not even for Benny. 

 Ben obeyed him slowly, not taking his eyes off him, and sat down in one
of the living room chairs. Ray sat down in the chair across from him,
trying to ignore the bad taste in the back of his mouth. Ben's sudden
wariness was heartbreaking, but Ray didn't know how else to get him
talking again. And they did need to talk; he knew that much. He couldn't
stand seeing Ben look so uncertain of himself, of their relationship. But
taking refuge in sex was not the answer. 

 So yes, they definitely needed to talk. But now that he had an audience,
what the hell did he want to say to him? 

 Ray wiped his damp palms nervously across the top of his thighs. "First
off," he said, "I want you to know that I love you." He was hoping for
some kind of a reaction to that, but Ben just kept staring at him with
that shell-shocked expression, sitting stiffly in his chair. Ray sighed,
feeling like he was speaking in a foreign language. He ran a hand back
over his hair. 

 "I don't have to keep having sex with you to keep loving you," he
insisted, figuring that this was basic truth he wanted to impart. "I wish
you'd understand that. It's not ... it's not about that for me." It felt
like there wasn't anything but sex to their relationship anymore, and that
was the biggest thing that was bothering him. He just didn't know if Ben
got the fact that he wanted more than that from him. 

 Still nothing. Ben might as well have been a statue. 

 Ray wasn't quite able to keep the frustration out of his voice as he
continued, "I feel like I've been using you, like you feel you have some
kind of obligation to me. It makes me feel like I'm not really any better
than those guys who took advantage of you in San Francisco." 

 Ah, now that at least provoked a reaction. Ben looked horrified that he'd
even think it. "No, Ray," he said, looking pained. "You're not like that
at all." 

 Ray shook his head, feeling suddenly depressed. "I don't know what to
think anymore," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I miss the old you, Benny. I
miss the way it used to be between us, before all this happened. I just
... I just want it all to go back to the way things were." 

 Ben was shaking now, and his distress was growing more and more evident
as the seconds slipped by. The quiet pleading in his eyes was painful to
see, but Ray pressed on regardless. He knew Ben needed to hear this just
as much as he needed to say it. 

 "I don't want to hurt you," he said, wishing he could reach out and touch
Ben, hold him, but not daring. "But I don't know what to do anymore. It's
all grown so far out of control. I can't keep doing this, living like
this, and I love you more than anything, Benny, but I don't know how to
help you anymore." 

 He finally ran out of words, and Ben stood up stiffly, without meeting
his eyes. "I think I understand, Ray." 

 Ray felt a stab of guilt, of fear, as Ben reached for his coat and
shrugged into it, still keeping his eyes downcast. "Benny..." he said, but
Ben ignored him as he went to fetch his shoes. Ray's heart was pounding;
he'd said he was still in love with Benny, hadn't he? He'd only meant to
imply that they had to back off, slow it down a little, but apparently the
only thing Ben had heard was that Ray didn't want to have sex with him
anymore. And Ray already knew he didn't take rejection well. 

 "Benny, listen to me," he said, but it seemed that Ben was done with
listening for the time being. 

 "It's all right, Ray. I understand." Ben's tone was cold and somehow lost
at the same time. "I just ... I just need to be alone right now." 

 Shit. Ray watched him go, feeling frozen, not knowing what to do. A part
of him wanted to just order Ben to get his ass back in here and talk to
him, but he felt instinctively that that would be a very bad idea right
now. 

 Ben left without a backwards glance, firmly closing the door behind him
to keep Dief inside. Ray put his head in his hands once he was gone,
feeling the numbness of shock move through him. Impossibly, he was hard --
his cock had gotten strictly Pavlovian over the past few weeks, and it was
still waiting for its nightly dose of Benny. The thought sickened him. 

 What was he supposed to do? Run after Ben and demand to know where he was
going? What if Ben did just need to be alone for a while, to walk, to
think about what Ray had told him? 

 It occurred to him suddenly that Ben needed sex to feel good about
himself anymore, and Ray had just refused him. The thought seemed suddenly
ominous, and Ray cursed low under his breath, earning a quizzical look
from Dief. Was Ben out there right now looking for someone to have sex
with, to give him that feeling of self-worth that Ray had denied him, to
master him in the way that Ray was patently incapable of doing? 

 Suddenly terrified, Ray snatched up his coat and bolted for the door. It
was cold outside -- there'd be snow on the ground before too much longer
-- but he barely noticed it as he jogged down the stairs and out the front
door of the building, heading toward the Riv with Dief at his heels. He
knew perfectly well what a temptation Benny would be to some of the people
in this city. An endless parade of nightmare images paraded across his
mind in vivid Techno-color surround sound stereo as he peeled away from
the curb: Benny being hurt, being forced, that beautiful face twisting in
pain as those blue eyes closed, turning empty, the light in them fading,
dying... 

 My fault. Ray was the one who had started this whole fucked-up chain of
events in motion. He'd known from the start that Benny was damaged from
what had happened to him in California, and Ray'd gone ahead and started a
sexual relationship with him anyway. Sure, it had seemed to help Benny at
first, given him some measure of his former confidence back, but then it
had turned into an addiction. For both of them, Ray realized now. Ben had
needed the constant reassurance that being good at sex gave him, and Ray
had needed Benny. His motivations didn't matter. He was responsible for
everything that happened to Benny now. 

 He finally found Ben walking hunched over with his hands in his coat
pockets at the side of the street about a mile away from the apartment.
Ray pulled up beside him with a feeling of profound relief, feeling as if
he'd just been granted a reprieve from a sentence on death row. 

 "Benny!" 

 Ben stared at him with huge, startled eyes and stumbled back a pace,
obviously surprised to see him. He looked wary again, and that made Ray
flinch away from him reflexively, not wanting Benny to look at him like
that, ever. Did he honestly think Ray was going to hurt him? The thought
made him ache inside. 

 "Come home, Benny," he said pleadingly. His breath fogged thickly in the
air in front of him. "Please." 

 He knew it would only be a matter of time before Ben went looking for
other people to fill the void Ray had left, even if he hadn't been
planning to do so tonight. The thought filled him with a feeling of
helplessness that was tinged by equal parts jealousy and terror. He knew
what type of people Ben would eventually be drawn to, and the thought
infuriated him, even though he knew it wasn't Benny's fault. 

 Still Ben hesitated, and Ray's hand clenched so hard over the top of the
steering wheel his knuckles began to ache. "Please," he said again,
keeping his voice low. "I'm ... I'm not ordering you, and if you really
want to leave, then I won't force you. That's not what I'm here for,
that's not what our relationship's about. We don't have to talk anymore if
you don't want to, but please, Ben. Come home." 

 He waited then, not knowing what he'd do if Ben decided to keep walking,
but Ben finally sighed and nodded, moving around to the passenger side of
the car. Dief let out a happy whine in the back seat, and Ray clenched his
jaw against the feeling of exhilaration that soared through him as he
drove them back toward Racine. 

 Once they were back inside, Ray hung up his coat and went into the
kitchen to make some tea. He usually couldn't stand the stuff, but he
could really use something to calm him down right about now. He glanced
back to see Ben sitting in a chair in the living room with Dief's head in
his lap. Ben was petting the wolf's fur absently, and while he didn't look
happy, at least he didn't look like he was getting ready to freak out
again. 

 Ray poured two cups of tea when it was ready and carried them into the
living room. Ben didn't look up as he accepted the cup Ray handed him, but
he murmured quiet thanks as he lifted it to his lips and blew gently
across the surface. 

 They sat for a moment in a silence that neither one of them seemed
willing to break. 

 "What do you want from me, Benny?" Ray asked finally, tentatively testing
the conversational waters. 

 He felt encouraged when Ben looked curiously up at him, so he continued,
"I just got finished explaining what I want out of this relationship, but
I'm still completely clueless about what you expect to get out of it."
Against his will, his voice began to take on a bit more intensity as his
emotions kicked in again. "Do you just want to have sex with me? Is that
what this is all about?" He swallowed hard, but the question needed
asking. "Do you want me to hurt you?" 

 "No," Ben said quietly in response to that question, lowering his gaze
again. 

 "Then what?" Ray really wanted to know. "Because I'm beginning to feel
like I'm your whore here, Benny." 

 Apparently that was enough to shock Ben into speaking. "I'm not ... not
really sure what I want, Ray." It was obvious that the honesty was costing
him. 

 "You're confused," Ray guessed, and Ben nodded, looking miserable. He
hadn't liked talking about his feelings, even before all this had started.
But at least they were talking now; that had to be a good thing. "Well,
how about you try going back to one-word answers. How do you feel right
now?" 

 Ben seemed to consider the question seriously. "Lost," he said after a
moment. And then, "Scared." His hand was shaking where it held onto his
teacup. 

 Ray closed his eyes briefly. Yeah, he could see that. "Lost," he echoed,
hoping that Ben would take the hint and keep going. 

 Much to his surprise, Ben did. "I feel like I lost myself," he said,
staring down at Dief's head in his lap. He smoothed a hand over the wolf's
ears absently. "And I don't know how to find myself again. I don't know
who I am anymore." The raw pain in his voice was excruciating to hear.
"The only time I feel at all sane anymore is when I'm with you. And the
only time I feel halfway normal again is when I ... when I'm giving you
pleasure." His cheeks colored when he said it. 

 "Ah, jeez, Benny." Ray felt like there was a gaping hole in the middle of
his chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. "It doesn't have to be
like that." 

 And then, even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't, he set his tea
down and moved forward to kneel in front of Ben, reaching for him and
pulling him into an embrace. It seemed to be the right thing to do,
though, because Ben all but collapsed against him, burrowing in against
the side of his neck with a shuddering sigh. Ray held him tightly and
kissed him on the side of the face. 

 "I love you, Benny. You know that, right? Anything else ... we'll deal
with." 

 Ben sniffed hard at that and seemed to freeze up entirely for an
interminable moment. Then his resistance finally shattered, and he pressed
his face against Ray's neck with a low, snuffling moan before the tears
began to overtake him in earnest. Ray held onto him tightly, rocking him
and murmuring softly in his ear. Ben hadn't cried like this since the
first night they'd made love together, and he figured it was a long time
coming. 

 After a few minutes, the storm passed. 

 "Let me make an appointment for you with Dr. Angelo," Ray offered
tentatively, stroking a hand down the back of Ben's neck. Ben shivered and
pressed closer against him. "I'll go with you if you want." 

 Ben hesitated, then nodded, and Ray felt as if a steel band wound tight
around his chest had suddenly been released. He blinked back sudden tears
and kissed Ben again on the side of the face. 

 "First thing in the morning," he promised, and it seemed like a miracle
when Ben just nodded again. He was limp in Ray's arms, almost a dead
weight from exhaustion, and Ray urged him up to his feet with an effort.
"Let's get you ready for bed," he said, and then stopped, feeling suddenly
uncertain. He quickly added, "I won't ... I won't stay unless you want me
to." 

 The look in Ben's eyes was subdued. "I want you to, Ray." 

 Ray still felt unsure, but he really didn't want to leave Ben alone after
everything they'd talked about this evening. He kept his touches
deliberately impersonal as he turned Ben toward the bedroom and helped him
undress. After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged out of his own clothes
as well, stacking them in the corner of the bedroom while Ben burrowed
under the covers and watched him with narrowed eyes. His expression was
unreadable. 

 Ray paused at the side of the bed, looking down at him. "You still want
me here?" he asked, feeling uncomfortable. Ben looked like a little kid
buried underneath all those blankets, not certain whether he was going to
be hit or hugged. 

 Ben nodded and moved back to make room for him, and Ray slithered under
the covers, settling tentatively on his side. The bed was already warm
from Ben's heat, and Ray sank into it with a sigh. 

 "Ray?" Ben said uncertainly, and Ray hushed him with a light kiss on the
lips, sliding an arm around his waist. Ben's skin felt warm and smooth
under the fabric of his T-shirt, but Ray didn't feel a desire for anything
more than this kind of closeness between them. 

 "Good night, Benny." 

 It took a few minutes, but finally, Ben began to relax against him. Ray
hid his smile in Ben's hair, realizing that this was the first time they'd
ever slept in the same bed together without having sex first. It felt even
better than he'd thought it would. 

 For the first time in too long, he began to think that things might
actually turn out all right for them after all.  

 PART V: The Journey Home 

 The lobby outside Dr. Angelo's office was a roughly square room with
soothing beige walls and rather expensive-looking art deco sculptures in
the corners. Ben clearly remembered the first time he'd come here almost
two months ago. It didn't look as if anything had changed in the
intervening weeks. 

 There was even the same receptionist sitting behind the counter, a pretty
dark-haired girl with unusually dark green eyes. She looked up at him with
a smile when he signed himself in, and told him that Dr. Angelo would be
with him in a moment. He thanked her kindly and went to sit by Ray in
front of the window. 

 They were on the fifth floor of the office building, which meant he had a
fairly decent bird's eye view of the city outside. Last time he'd been
here, the sight had been soothing, but now the distance made him feel
faintly nervous. 

 "It'll be all right," Ray said softly, giving him an encouraging smile.
He reached for Ben's hand and squeezed it briefly before withdrawing. 

 Ben felt encouraged by Ray's support. There was no way he would have had
the courage to come back here without him, and he knew he wouldn't have
considered coming back at all if Ray hadn't pressed the matter so
forcefully. He still wasn't entirely sure he wanted to be here, but he'd
promised Ray that he would try. 

 And Ray loved him. Loved him. Had said he loved him. That was something
Ben was still trying to wrap his brain around, even after all these weeks.


 Again, Ray reached for his hand and squeezed it, as if he had a
subliminal radar that told him when Ben was freaking out again. "It'll be
all right," he repeated, and this time, he smoothed his thumb over the
back of Ben's hand. The caress made Ben shiver slightly. 

 The door to the inner office opened then, and Ray dropped his hand away.
Ben looked up to see Dr. Angelo saying good-bye to one of his other
clients, a petite, blond-haired woman with expensive taste in clothes.
Angelo was a tall man with dark blond hair and a short beard, not much
older than Ben himself was. Today, he was dressed in a light tan suit. 

 "Ben?" Angelo glanced over at them once the woman was gone, and Ben rose
hurriedly to his feet. He felt encouraged when Ray stood up to stand
beside him. 

 "Hello, Dr. Angelo." He walked up to the office door and glanced back to
make sure Ray was following him. "This is my friend, Ray Vecchio. I want
... I mean, I invited him to sit in with me today." 

 Angelo nodded without missing a beat. "Of course he's welcome to do so."
He smiled at Ray and shook his hand. "Why don't both of you come in and
have a seat?" 

 Ben let his breath out in a short sigh of relief. He wasn't sure why he'd
expected Ray's presence to be a problem, except that he seemed to be
looking for problems everywhere he turned lately. Ray squeezed his
shoulder gently and gave him another encouraging smile before following
him into the office. 

 Angelo shut the door behind them and moved to take his seat behind the
large, cherry wood desk that dominated the room. Ray glanced around at the
room curiously. 

 "What, no couch?" he said, grinning wryly. 

 Angelo chuckled. "I'm afraid not. Although we do have one in the lounge
by the cafeteria, if that makes you feel any better." More seriously, he
added, "I prefer to have eye-to-eye-contact with the people who come to
talk to me." 

 "Yeah." Ray sounded more serious now, too. "Yeah, I can see that." 

 There was a few moments' silence while Angelo skimmed through the file on
his desk, and then he looked up again. "Vecchio? You're the police officer
who flew out to bring Ben home from San Francisco." 

 "Yeah." Ray shifted slightly in his chair. "That was me." 

 Angelo nodded thoughtfully. "It's good to know that Ben has such a loyal
friend to help him get through this." 

 Ben took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. He made up his mind
abruptly and reached across the space between their two chairs to grab
Ray's hand. He could feel Ray's startled gaze on him, but Ray's fingers
tightened immediately around his, accepting whatever decision he made. 

 "Ray is more than my friend," Ben said, meeting Angelo's gaze steadily.
"We're..." 

 "Lovers," Ray supplied for him when he faltered. Ben felt his cheeks grow
warm at that, but he nodded agreement. Ray's thumb stroked across the back
of his hand soothingly. 

 Angelo nodded. "I see." He sounded completely nonjudgmental. "Is this a
relatively new development, or were you lovers before you were taken to
San Francisco?" 

 Ben swallowed thickly. "It's ... new," he said. Ray's hand on his was a
lifeline. Talking about these things with Ray was bad enough; discussing
them with a relative stranger was excruciating. 

 "Have you talked to Ray about what happened to you in San Francisco?" 

 Ben took another deep breath. Ray was quiet beside him, letting him say
what he wanted at his own pace. "I haven't seen much of a reason to talk
about anything. It's all over and done with." 

 Angelo regarded him calmly. "Is it?" 

 The question caught Ben off guard. "Of course it is." 

 Angelo steepled his fingers in front of his face and seemed to think
carefully about what he was going to say next. "I was worried about you
when you left my office that last time, Ben." He held up a hand, sensing
Ben's reflexive protest before he made it. "Oh, you're good at pretending
you're perfectly in control of things, I'll grant you that. As a matter of
fact, I'd say you've got the pretending part down pat. Being in control is
very important to you, isn't it?" 

 Ben stared at him, feeling as if he'd just been gutted open. "I suppose
so." 

 "And how did you ensure that you remained in control of things when you
were in San Francisco?" 

 For a moment, Ben couldn't even think how to answer that question. He
hadn't been in control of anything ever since he left the Duval house.
Wasn't that the whole point? 

 Angelo waited patiently, giving him the time he needed to think things
through. Ray tightened his grip briefly on Ben's hand, offering him
support, offering him encouragement, offering him love. 

 Ben closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself. He could say this; he
could. 

 "I suppose I ... I used sex to ... to keep control of the situation." 

 Angelo's expression remained comfortingly mild. "And how did sex help you
feel in control?" 

 "I'm not exactly sure." Ben bowed his head slightly, fighting against the
memory of those first harrowing days in Snow's residence. He'd fought like
a wild thing at first, refusing to give in to what they demanded of him,
but in the end his exertions had proved futile. They always won in the
end, holding him down, laughing, taking enjoyment in his humiliation and
pain. 

 Then he'd realized that it didn't have to be that way. Snow was willing
to give him to clients who didn't want to hurt him, if only he ...
behaved. He'd rejected the idea violently at first, but the knowledge had
been a constant presence in the back of his mind as they raped him,
chipping away at his resolve. It hadn't taken him long at all to decide to
take control over the situation in the only way he knew how. 

 "As long as I ... I could please them in bed, I knew they wouldn't hurt
me." 

 The admission made his cheeks flame. He had sold himself in order to hold
onto his sanity, and now, with the benefit of hindsight, he couldn't help
but think that perhaps the price had been too high. Because how could Ray
ever love him now, knowing what he'd done? Ray was the kindest, most
compassionate soul he knew, and he'd offered him everything he had from
the moment they'd met. Sooner or later, he was going to get tired of Ben
always asking, always needing, and then he'd be gone. 

 "Oh, Benny," Ray sighed. He sounded sad. Ben wondered what he was
thinking, if maybe he was regretting the things that had happened between
them even now. 

 There was no way he could speak that fear aloud. But Angelo seemed to
understand regardless. "Is that why you decided to start a sexual
relationship with Ray? So you could feel in control again?" 

 "No!" The vehemence in his voice startled him. Backpedaling hurriedly, he
said, "I mean, I ... I don't think so." Why did everything have to be so
confusing? It was frustrating, not knowing his own mind. 

 He took yet another fortifying breath. "I love Ray." That much he could
say with certainty. "I've ... been in love with him for a long time. It
was something I had to work to keep hidden, before all this happened. I
was afraid of what he'd think if he found out about how I felt." 

 That earned him a surprised glance from Ray. "You never told me that." 

 No, he hadn't. He hadn't been very forthcoming about much of anything
lately, it seemed. "I'm sorry, Ray," he said, lowering his gaze. 

 Angelo regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before turning to Ray.
"Detective Vecchio, how do you feel about this new change in your
relationship with Ben?" 

 "It was a, uh, surprise." Ray coughed lightly. "I'd never ... I mean I
haven't..." Now it was his turn to grope for words. 

 Angelo apparently decided to take pity on him. "This is your first sexual
relationship with another man?" 

 "Yeah." Ray's cheeks were turning pink now, and Ben squeezed his hand
comfortingly. Ray gave him a grateful glance. 

 "Being a man involved in a gay relationship is a difficult path to
choose," Angelo said carefully. "Especially for a police officer." 

 "I guess so." Ray sounded less uncertain now. "But it doesn't really
matter. I mean, I love Benny." He shrugged. "What else is there to know?" 

 Angelo frowned slightly. "I'm afraid it isn't as easy as that. Ben's been
through a very difficult situation, and he's going to need someone strong
to help him until he comes to terms with it." 

 Ray held Angelo's gaze evenly, straightening. "I can do that," he said
firmly. 

 The certainty in Ray's voice made Ben have to blink back sudden tears.
Ray still wanted him. Still loved him. And he was apparently willing to
put up with Ben's neediness for at least a little while longer. 

 Angelo's gaze softened. "That's good to hear. Because it's going to take
a lot of effort on both your parts if you're going to make this
relationship work. You have a lot of things stacked against you." 

 "It's worth it." Ray didn't even have to stop and think about that at
all. 

 "Good." Angelo nodded seriously, shifting his gaze to Ben. "How about it,
Ben? Is this something you're willing to work at?" 

 Ben realized suddenly that Angelo was asking him the same question he'd
just asked Ray. Was he willing to work at this? Was he willing to admit
that he wasn't as invulnerable as he liked to believe he was, and that
maybe he needed help to work this thing through? 

 Was Ray worth that much to him? 

 "Yes," he said, without hesitation. 

 "All right, then." Angelo seemed pleased. "It looks like we might have
something to work with here after all, then." 

 Ben turned to see Ray looking at him with a quietly triumphant gaze, and
when he smiled, it seemed to light up the entire room. Ben returned the
smile, tightening his grip on Ray's hand. They were going to do this; they
were going to make this work. 

 For the first time, he actually believed it was true.	

 Things settled into a bit of a pattern for them then. Ben met with Dr.
Angelo twice a week, once on his own and once with Ray. Ray was also
meeting with Dr. Angelo alone once a week, because it seemed Ray had some
issues of his own to work through, and Ben hadn't even realized.
Apparently he'd almost run himself into the ground trying to track Ben
down when he'd disappeared, and he still harbored a fair amount of guilt
that he hadn't found him sooner. 

 Sex was something they didn't indulge in anymore, now that Ben had
successfully identified it as the escape it was. At Dr. Angelo's
suggestion, they indulged in a lot of non-sexual touching, though, and Ben
discovered to his delight that Ray gave the most incredible backrubs he'd
ever had. 

 There were surprises, too. Like the night he'd gone over to the Vecchio
house for dinner, and Ray asked his permission to tell his family about
them. 

 "I don't want to hide anymore," Ray had told him. "I love you, and I want
the people who care about us to know that." 

 It seemed like such an irrevocable step to Ben, but Ray was adamant in
his desire to go through with it. Ben had agreed, feeling hesitant, but if
Ray was willing to take this risk, then so was he. 

 And so after dinner that night, Ray pulled his mother aside and told her
he was in love with a man. That was exactly how he'd phrased it, too --
not "I'm gay" or "I'm having sex with Benny". He was in love. To Ben, that
seemed strangely significant, and he realized suddenly that it didn't
matter if Ray's mother approved of their relationship or not. Ray was in
love with him, and that was the only thing that mattered. Maybe it was the
only thing that would ever matter. 

 Mrs. Vecchio had accepted the news with a fair amount of reservation, but
in the end she had given them her blessing. Ben was already like a member
of the family, she said, and if her son had to choose this kind of
lifestyle, then at least he'd chosen someone who cared about him honestly
in return. 

 The rest of the family took the news surprisingly well once it became
evident that they had Mrs. Vecchio's approval. Frannie, predictably,
reacted less than favorably to the discovery that her brother had "stolen
Ben out from under her nose", but in the end even she had come around, and
told them she was happy for them. 

 Life went on. There were relapses, of course, when Ben found himself on
the verge of panic at the thought that Ray didn't want to have sex with
him, and without that to bind Ray to him he'd never be able to convince
him to stay. There were days when he would have given his life for a
gesture of physical affection, but Ray always just turned him down gently
at those times, and told him he loved him, and held him until the bad
feelings went away. 

 They still slept together. After the discussion with his family, Ray had
officially moved in with him. The first thing Ben did to celebrate the
occasion was to go out and buy a bigger bed, and Ray brought over a bunch
of furniture that he thought he'd need from his house. They'd spent an
entire afternoon moving everything in, with help from Ray's family, and it
was perhaps the single most wonderful afternoon that Ben had ever known. 

 Ray was going to live with him. Wanted to live with him. Had told his
family about them. 

 Ray loved him. 

 It was getting easier to believe it now, and the insistent voice in the
back of his mind that kept insisting he wasn't good enough for Ray had
fallen thankfully silent. How could he possibly doubt Ray's love for him,
when Ray took such care to convince him of it in so many wonderful ways? 

 He had a bit of a panic when it came time to go in for the confirmation
on his HIV test. Snow had always insisted that his customers use
protection when they sampled his wares, but even so, Ben found the whole
experience of the blood test distasteful. He didn't like being reminded of
what had been done to him, but Ray stayed with him through all of it. They
had a rather frantic week waiting for the test results to come in, and
when they finally came back negative, Ben was the one who had to hold Ray
while he cried. 

 Through everything, Ray was there for him. Ben wasn't sure what he'd done
to deserve that kind of loyalty, but he wouldn't have traded it for
anything in the world. 

 After all this time, he felt that he was finally -- finally -- finding
his way home.  

 Ben signed his name to the last of the forms on his desk and reached for
his hat. The sunlight was pale with evening's advance outside his office
window, and a quick glance at the clock showed him that Ray would be here
to pick him up any minute. 

 He put the signed forms in the outbox for Inspector Thatcher's perusal
the next morning and made sure the door was locked behind him when he left
the room. He could hear voices in the front lobby now -- Turnbull's
impeccably polite tones mingling easily with Ray's familiar cadences. Ben
smiled, feeling a spreading warmth move through him at the sheer normality
of it. 

 Turnbull was busy sweeping away the last of the day's accumulation of
dirt from the main floor when Ben stepped into the lobby. Ray was sitting
on the edge of the front reception desk, swinging his muffler casually
over the fingers of one hand while he regaled Turnbull with the more
sordid details of the latest case he and Ben had been working on. 

 Diefenbaker slipped past Ben's legs and moved straight toward Ray with a
low whine of greeting. Ray turned to him and dropped down to a low crouch
on the floor as the wolf approached, ruffling the scruff of fur behind his
neck with obvious affection. 

 "Hey, boy. How you doin'?" Ray looked up and met Ben's gaze with a
brilliant smile. "You ready to hit the road?" 

 "Yes, Ray." Ben said his good-nights to Turnbull and put his hat on as
they stepped out the door. 

 A layer of new snow covered the ground from the brief flurry just that
afternoon, and the Chicago street looked almost ethereal in the fading
sunlight. Ben looked around with a feeling of vast contentment, breathing
in deeply. The city air smelled unusually crisp and clear, as if it had
been scrubbed clean somehow by the snowfall. 

 "Pretty, isn't it?" Ray said, pausing bedside him at the top of the
stairs to tuck his scarf in under the collar of his coat. 

 Ben nodded, watching his breath turn to smoke in the cold air. "Yes. It
is." 

 Ray hunched his shoulders slightly as he shoved his hands into his coat
pockets. "Well, I've been thinkin'," he said, in a tone of voice that was
so casual it immediately caught Ben's attention. He glanced at Ben
sideways out of the corner of one eye. "I was thinking maybe we should try
taking another crack at going up north and rebuilding your dad's cabin."
When he realized Ben was looking at him, he shrugged, looking
self-conscious. "I'm not sayin' we should pack up and go in the middle of
winter or anything. Just, you know ... in the spring, maybe. If you wanted
to." 

 Ben stared at him, feeling a spreading warmth move through him. "I'd like
that very much, Ray," he said, meaning it. 

 Ray gave him another of those forty-gigawatt smiles. "Well, okay then." 

 Diefenbaker was waiting for them at the side of the road, making new
tracks through the new-fallen snow. He seemed reluctant to get in the car
when Ray opened the door for him, but he went without too much of a fuss. 

 "Maybe we can take him to the park tomorrow," Ben suggested as he slid
into his seat. As a rare miracle, both he and Ray had the next couple of
days off. 

 "Yeah. That sounds good." Ray seemed honestly pleased with the idea. 

 They drove home in a companionable silence that was broken only by Dief's
happy panting in the backseat. They took him for a quick walk around the
block before going inside, and Ben found himself walking very close to
Ray, almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Neither one of them seemed to mind. 

 There were leftovers in the fridge for dinner, which Ben was grateful
for. He didn't feel like spending a lot of time cooking tonight. He set
the table while Ray threw the half-eaten lasagna pan into the oven to
heat, and before long they were sitting down at the table to eat. 

 Ray carried the bulk of the conversation through dinner. Ben felt oddly
restless, and the feeling carried through dinner and dishes and into the
quiet part of the evening that followed. He sat curled up on the couch
next to Ray, covered in a soft blanket, while Ray flipped idly through the
channels on the TV Ben found he no longer really wanted. It was enough,
really, to just be here with Ray, surrounded by his heat, by his scent, by
the comfortingly solid strength of his arms. 

 "Something on your mind tonight, Benny?" Ray asked, without looking away
from the TV. The question was asked casually, and Ben knew he wasn't
pushing. 

 But, just that simply, Ben knew what it was he wanted. Leaning in to
nuzzle against Ray's cheek, he lowered his voice and said, "Make love with
me tonight." 

 Ray didn't react for a handful of seconds. Then he turned to look Ben in
the eye. "You're sure you want that?" His voice was serious. 

 Ben swallowed hard but refused to look away. He nodded. "Yes, Ray." 

 He knew perfectly well what a mess he'd made of their sex lives at the
start of their relationship, and it was true that he'd made several
backward slides into that kind of clinging addiction again over the past
couple of months. So he could understand Ray's caution now, even if it was
unnecessary. He knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with fear or
feeling like he wasn't in control. He just wanted Ray, and he wanted to
love him in any way that Ray would allow him. 

 Ray's hand lifted to brush Ben's hair back behind his ear, and it
lingered there, stroking a thumb up over the ridge of his eye. "I wouldn't
want you to ask me for that unless you were really, really sure, Benny."
His voice was thick, as if he were having trouble getting the words out. 

 Ben smiled and nuzzled forward against Ray's hand, pressing his lips
briefly against the skin of his palm. "I'm sure, Ray." 

 Ray hesitated for a moment longer, then lowered his gaze to look at Ben's
mouth. Ben smiled, knowing what Ray was going to do an instant before he
leaned in to kiss him. It was a light kiss, tentatively exploring
territory that had been well-investigated over the past month or so.
Kissing was as far as they'd gone lately, and immediately, Ben knew that
it wasn't going to be enough for him tonight. He leaned into the kiss with
a low murmur of contentment and parted his lips, encouraging Ray to deepen
it. 

 Ray's hand slid up to his shoulder and squeezed him through the thin
material of his Henley. Ben was all but sprawled across him now, lounging
half on top of that slim body as Ray languorously, painstakingly, made
love to his mouth. 

 Ben was breathless when Ray finally pulled away from him. He looked at
Ray through lidded eyes, seeing the deepened duskiness in those wide green
eyes, proof of Ray's desire for him. 

 Ray looked at him for a moment more and then nodded. "I love you, Benny,"
he said, as if this were the most important thing he'd ever said. Or ever
would. He reached up to touch Ben's cheek again, as if he couldn't keep
his hands away. 

 Ben leaned forward and brushed their lips together again, just barely
touching. "I love you, too," he murmured. 

 Ray closed his eyes and seemed to melt against him, and Ben kissed him
again, feeling the surrender in the way Ray's body moved against him. The
knowledge that they were going to make love tonight filled him with a wild
joy that seemed to flutter inside his chest like a trapped bird. It seemed
suddenly impossible that he could ever get enough of touching Ray, of
tasting him, of feeling the warm strength of his fingers trailing across
his skin. 

 Ray was unfailingly gentle with him as they moved into the bedroom.
Despite the chill outside, it was warm inside the apartment, and they shed
their clothes with little fanfare. Ben found that he couldn't keep his
hands off Ray's skin once it had been revealed to him, and he mouthed
hungrily at the smooth curve of Ray's shoulder as they fell onto the bed
together, savoring the low murmur of the sounds Ray made in reply. 

 He wasn't entirely sure who was making love to whom, or even if there was
a dominant partner in the slow glide of bodies that started up as soon as
they were both horizontal beneath the sheets. It was a new experience for
him, this kind of easy sensuality, both giving and taking in equal
measure, and he fell into it eagerly, knowing only that he wanted more,
needed more. 

 "Shh, Benny," Ray murmured to him, stroking a hand down the middle of his
back. Ben shivered under the caress like a startled colt and reached for
Ray's mouth blindly, wanting to taste him. 

 He didn't object when Ray rolled him over onto his back, and he spread
his thighs so Ray's hips could fit more easily against him. The resultant
slide of skin on skin made him and Ray both gasp in unison, and Ray
chuckled against Ben's shoulder shakily, licking lightly at his skin. 

 "Easy," Ray said, sliding a hand down Ben's arm this time to soothe him.
He gave an experimental stroke of his hips and breathed out hard against
the side of Ben's face. "Anima mia," he whispered. "I've got you." 

 Ben finally gave in and just relaxed, letting his head fall back against
the pillow. Ray's hips were gliding between his thighs now, pressing their
erections together, and Ben rested his hands on Ray's lower back to urge
him to continue, humming lightly against his skin. 

 "Oh, Benny." Ray's voice was hoarse now, and yeah, Ben had noticed in the
past that Ray got a little vocal during sex, but it never ceased to make
him smile. Seeing Ray this way was better than anything else he could
imagine, and he nuzzled at the delicate line of Ray's collarbone, lapping
the sweat from the hollow of his throat in passing. 

 Ray's breath hitched, and he tensed, digging his fingers into Ben's arms.
His body was all but singing now, and Ben rushed to join it, feeling the
rising warmth pool deep in the pit of his belly. His thighs were shaking
where they cupped Ray's hips, but he pressed his feet flat against the
mattress beneath him, canting his hips up to meet Ray's thrusts, wanting
to feel that delightful friction against him. Sex with Ray was like
nothing else he'd ever experienced; even in the early part of their
relationship, when it had grown into an addiction for him, he'd never once
lost sight of who it was in bed with him. 

 He was almost wild with it now, and he gasped rhythmically against Ray's
hair, barely aware of anything aside from the swift slide of Ray's skin
against his own. He seemed to hover on the edge forever before Ray
suddenly tensed again within his arms, shouting Ben's name hoarsely, and
the hot flood of his release between their bodies was all it took to
finally, finally push Ben over the edge. 

 Ben cried out sharply as his orgasm suddenly uncoiled and lashed free
inside him, and the fire seemed to sear through him from his toes straight
through to the roots of his hair. Ray's hands still had a death grip on
his arms, and they slid onto their sides almost without thought, arms and
legs sliding together until they were nothing but a sweaty, sticky tangle
of warm limbs and satiated flesh. 

 "So beautiful," Ray whispered to him, kissing his hair, his face, the
curve of his jaw. "So beautiful, Benny. God. You have no idea." 

 "Ray," Ben said, unable to think of anything else to say. His brain was
still buzzing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and he curled in against
Ray's side, wanting only to hold him, and be held by him in return. 

 "I love you," Ray murmured sleepily, tightening his arms around him. 

 And Ben knew that it was true.  

 Afterward, while they lay together in the darkness, Ben stared up at the
patterns the streetlights made over the ceiling and ran his fingers
lightly over the curve of Ray's spine. Ray hmmmmed and pressed closer
against him, snuggling his head further down against Ben's chest. 

 "Feels good," he murmured. He sounded sleepy and happy at the same time. 

 Ben smiled. Snow was falling in a fragile curtain outside their window
now, blanketing the room in silver shadows. A low sound from the living
room told him that Dief was chasing rabbits in his dreams. Or perhaps he
was pursuing malfeasants through the streets of downtown Chicago. 

 Ben couldn't remember ever feeling this degree of contentment before,
like everything that could possibly matter had finally gone right with his
world. The memory of their lovemaking still burned bright in his mind, and
he realized suddenly what it meant that Ray would trust him this way. He
wasn't naive enough to think that he could ever again be the person he was
before he'd been taken away to San Francisco, but he felt confident that
he'd been able to reclaim the majority of what he'd lost. 

 And Ray loved him. There were no doubts attached to that thought at all
now in his mind. Ray loved him, and Ray wanted him, and Ray trusted him.
It was a heady realization. Ben felt like he was learning how to love all
over again, and he knew that in this, he could find no better teacher. 

 He bent down to kiss Ray on top of the head, and Ray smiled up at him,
looking like he was all eyes in the darkness. Ben's heart swelled with
love for him, and he couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again, on the
nose, and then again, angling for that wonderfully expressive mouth. 

 "I love you," he whispered, brushing his lips lightly across Ray's. Ray's
arms tightened around him. 

 "I love you, too," Ray said seriously. He leaned up to give Ben another
kiss, as if he couldn't get enough of him. "Always love you." 

 Ben hugged him tightly, letting the truth of the words flow through him.
They were facing their challenges one day at a time, but the important
thing was, they were facing them together. If he had an entire lifetime to
live with Ray by his side, maybe -- just maybe -- it would be enough. But
he doubted it. 

 For what seemed the first time in far too long, he couldn't wait to see
what the morning would bring them. 

 The End
 1/10/01 

End Fall From Grace by Rushlight: n_sanity75@hotmail.com

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