Disclaimer: This piece has been written solely for the enjoyment of
its readers (and the author)   Disclaimer: This piece has been written
solely for the enjoyment of its readers (and the author). No infringement
of copyrights has been intended.  Many thanks to the members of the beta
reading panel - Mitch Hudson, The WolfWalker, Elaine Walker, PJ, Raa,
Kathy Martin and Liquid Review - for generously setting aside time to give
feedback and moral support.    Thank you, Mitch Hudson, for boosting my
self-confidence. I would have missed a hell of a writing experience if I
had just stayed "chicken". Writing my very first long slashy story was
difficult; but also lots of fun, and very rewarding. A wonderful
challenge.   This piece of fiction goes against canon, as the character of
Ray Vecchio goes undercover as David Spirelli.	 There is blood (and
possibly a death) towards the end of this series. You have been warned.  
As always, please be merciful.	   HOMECOMING by Renny Ramos  BOOK ONE	 1
  "Stop! Stop! That tickles!"  Your laughter drifts through the walls of
my room, and I can't help but smile to myself. It's another weekend, and
that could only mean one thing.   The Vecchio kids have got you pleading
for your life again, haven't they, Benny?  "Stop tickling me! I give up, I
give up! I'll tell you a story ..."  I have to hand it to them. They
really know which buttons to push.  Hmmm. What's that? "Horton Hatches the
Egg"? One entire morning of playing horsey and hide-and-seek; and now,
you're playing Dr. Seuss? Oh, boy. They've really suckered you this time. 
Ah, but who cares? As long as you're happy. I actually envy the kids, you
know. I see you with them; and it's just like ... oh, I don't know. Like
lifting a veil, and seeing a whole new side of you. You're not cool or
composed, the way you usually are. You're a child full of wonder and
delight, playfulness, laughter ...   You're just so alive.  Are you this
way because they make you forget you're alone? Or you just don't want them
to be unhappy, the way you were as a child?  I used to think you were a
yutz, you know. A bit loopy. Now I know better.  And the kids ... God,
they're just crazy about you! Hell, they're never like this with any of my
friends -- just you. I guess they just know when a person's all good
inside. They can always sense a kind soul.   And you're just as in love
with them. Any other guy would have scampered off to safety at the thought
of babysitting; not you, though. It's unbelievable. I mean, you actually
want to spend your weekends in my home, with a bunch of Vecchios; when you
could date just about all the women in Chicago lusting after you!  Well,
maybe you ARE a bit loopy.  I step out of my room, towards the living
room; and I just have to shake myself at the sight that greets me. You're
there, bunched up on the couch with an entire platoon of Vecchio children
gathered around you like disciples to a guru; still and silent, absorbing
every word and sound you utter. Unbelievable. Even Ma can't make them sit
still that long!  I hear your voice croak, and I know it's time to rescue
you from the little monsters.  "So, how are you doing?"  "I think I just
sprained my tongue, Ray."  "Ah, too bad. You'll never be a hip-hop artist
that way."  "Hip-hop?"	I should have known that was coming. Oh, well.	
"Never mind. Would you like some water?"  "Yes, please. Thank you kindly."
 When I return, I find you sleeping with your adoring disciples; the
faintest trace of a contented smile upon your lips.  Ah, Benny.  If only I
could make you happy, too ...	Could I?  I slip back into my room and get
the book. You love books, don't you? You've said so yourself. I saw this
in a bookstore the other day and it just reminded me of you. Of us,
actually.  I try to hide the thin slab of a book inside my jacket.  God,
you'd better not have a copy of this one!  The book you held in your hand
falls to the floor with a soft, light thud and you wake up. I see your
face break into a yawn as you stretch your limbs up and out, like a lazy
cat. You see me, and you smile.  "Hi, Benny."  "Hello, Ray. I'm sorry, I
must have fallen asleep."  I brush your apology aside with a shrug and a
grin.  "Ah, don't worry about it."  Your eyes shine as you gaze at your
disciples.   "You know, I always enjoy being with them."  "I know, Benny."
 Your right hand goes up to scratch briefly at your brow.   "Do you think
we should take them upstairs, to bed?"	I walk towards the window. Still
light.	"Let's see. Tony and Maria won't be back until dinner time. Maybe
we should take them upstairs. The bed's more comfortable."  "You're
right."  "OK. Let's do it."  One by one, we bring each child up to bed. I
can't help but shake my head and smile as you carefully tuck them in; I
don't think I've ever seen anyone surround my nephews and nieces with
teddy bears and dolls the way you do. Why, they look like troops, or a
mini-platoon! Maybe even a fortress ...  You kiss the last of the troop,
and we finally slip out of the room. I reach for my pocket, just as you
pull the door shut.   Now would be a good time ...  "Hey, I heard you
reading to them. Nice choice."	"Thank you, Ray."   "So ... you think you
can read me a story one of these days? Like, right now?"  We stop in the
middle of the stairs. You turn to face me, a questioning look upon your
face.  "Dr. Seuss, you mean?"  "Ah, no. I've had my fill of Dr. Seuss for
today." I reach for my pocket. "I was thinking about something else ...
maybe something like this."  "What's this?"  "Go ahead, open it."  We sit
at the landing of the stairs, and you carefully tear off the wrapping. 
"Oh! It's 'The Little Prince' ..."  "Happy birthday, Benny."  I see your
face flush with pleasure.   "Thank you, Ray."  "I know it's a few days
early, but ..."  "It's wonderful, Ray. Thank you."  "So, read me a story."
 You look at me and grin. Your hands turn the page. With a deep breath,
you begin. "Once when I was six years old ..."	Maybe I do know how to
make you happy.  2  You know what? Sometimes, I ask myself, "Hey, Vecchio!
Are you an idiot?"  You walk into my life, and suddenly I'm at your beck
and call. I drive you around Chicago, I give you my money, I walk your
Wolf, I feed your Wolf, I roll around in refuse and have maggots cling to
me ... Hell, I even blew up the Riv for you!   I must be nuts.	 And you
... YOU drive me absolutely nuts!   I don't really care, though.  Because
there's just something about you that makes me feel like laughing all the
time.  Sure, I roll my eyes each time you pop me one of those Inuit
stories that take an eternity to tell. And I yell at you whenever I walk
into one of your landmine innocent questions or verbal rambling.  But I'm
just being mean, you know. To be honest, I enjoy your stories and your
questions and your rambling. Everything you tell me.  Especially when what
you say takes an unexpected turn and you end up getting your foot caught
in your mouth.	Today was an especially good one, thanks to that trip to
the drugstore and those damned chocolate-scented condoms. Scented!
Unbelievable. I mean, who comes up with those things?  Good thing I asked
you.  "You know, Ray, there are studies that show a definite link between
one's sense of smell and appetite. There are some scents, such as the
scent of green apples that have been said to repress hunger. Now, the
smell of chocolate, on the other hand, is widely believed to whet one's
appetite; thus making one want to eat mo ..."  Your words freeze in
mid-air and you turn as red as your Mountie duds.  Oh, man. This is just
so rich!  Still, I try to put on a straight face and ask you.  "Well?"	"I
think the Advil you're looking for is in THAT counter, Ray."   Come to
think of it ...  I just enjoy everything you are.  3   What's wrong,
Benny?	One minute you're fine. The next minute, I blink and you leave me
in the dust; an idiot talking to myself.   "What's going on?"  "Nothing. I
just thought I, uh ... I thought I saw a woman I used to know."  "You
thought she needed a vacuum cleaner."  "No ... I was mistaken."  I would
have tossed out another smart-aleck comment for you to catch, except that
I see something I've never seen before. A haunted look in your eyes.   
Something tells me that now is not a time for casual remarks.  Your eyes
narrow and I see a flash of pain cross your face, just briefly. Then you
turn to me and shrug. You try to smile. "Oh, well."  We walk back to the
Consulate in silence. Given another time, this would have been ordinary.
We've often done that, after all - just be quiet and still in each other's
company. But I never felt sadness surround you in all those times, not
like now.   "How about dinner and football tonight at my place, Benny?
Ma's cooking her specialty tonight."  I try to hide my concern as I look
at you.   What is wrong with you, Benny?  For a moment, you stare at me
uncomprehendingly. You didn't hear me, did you?  "I said, how about dinner
and football tonight at my place."  With a brave smile, you try to focus
back on the moment.   "Oh, thank you kindly, but ... I think I'd just like
to stay home tonight."	"You look a little flushed. Are you feeling okay,
Benny?"  Want to tell me all about that Mystery Woman of yours, instead of
acting like a dumb martyr there? Tell me why you look so sad all of a
sudden?   Let me into your heart, just once?  You shake your head dumbly. 
"I think I just ..."  "That's alright, Benny. Whatever you need." 
Something tells me I might not enjoy hearing the truth.  4  A woman in
your room. I don't believe it.	Still, I leave you with her; step out of
your life so you could take that chance to love.   I'd do anything just to
make you happy. Even walk away. You know that, don't you? After all, your
happiness is my own.  So, why do I feel so unhappy, all of a sudden?  5 
"What's tonight, Benny?"  "Why, actually, it's Saturday morning, Ray ...
oh, I'm sorry."  "Yeah ... don't worry about it. It was nothing special." 
"No, I'm sorry. It's just that I forgot, I got caught up in some things
and, uh ... Here's your money."  You don't get it, do you? It's not the
damned money!  It's not the fact that you didn't pay me on time, Benny.
And it's not the fact that you just turned me into the only idiot in the
universe who fed his guests capers on his birthday.   It's the fact that
you never came, Benny. You, of all people! And I thought I heard you
telling me once that I was your best friend.  I must have heard wrong.	
So, you choose my birthday to show me just how much you think of me and
our friendship, huh?  "Like it makes a difference?"  "I meant to be there,
Ray."  "So ... she in there?  "Yeah ... sorry. Do you wanna ... you wanna
meet her?"  You think this changes everything? You think I'll let this
slide now that you've handed me your lousy bill in my hand and some bland
apology I'm not even sure you felt?   You expect me to smile as you push
me out of your life, on my birthday?   You think I'm your own Personal
Idiot?	 Fuck you.  "Nah, don't do me any favors. Wouldn't wanna embarrass
you, anyway."  I turn and walk away from you, get away before I say
anything else.	I've had enough. I don't want to be hurt by you anymore. 
You catch me a few blocks down. Damn this red light!   "I'm sorry, Ray." 
"Yeah."  Now get away from me, Fraser.	"It's just that I, uh ... I made a
mistake once and I can't make it again. You know I ... I think there are
certain things that you'd live to regret. Losing your friendship would be
one of them, and losing her ..."  Your head jerks up sharply as you hear
the sound blasting through the night.  "Gunshot ..."  6   It's just like I
said. "And I thought this woman was going to come between us."	We're
trapped in a hell we don't deserve but will probably end up in, anyway.
You know what? I honestly don't know how we'll get through this.   She's
got you good, Benny. And she wants me to go down with you.   "You should
take the deal."  "I haven't been offered one."	"You should take it,
anyway."  I'm a hairline away from prison and bankruptcy. My house is up
on mortgage for your bail ... I know you said you won't run away, but I
can see it in your eyes. You'll probably run off with her at the first
chance you get.  My mind tells me to run before it's too late.	But I
listen to my heart just the same.  "Hey, Benny ..."  "Not in your
lifetime."    7  You're a bastard, you know that?  I should hate your guts
and leave you here to die.  What is it with you? You were going with her!
And you were going to leave me without my home, my honor.  How stupid can
you get, man? How could you continue loving her after she set both of us
up like that?  How could you do this to me?  She doesn't love you! I ... 
I'd put my possessions and reputation at stake ... Hell, I'd even kill to
protect you, Benny. I'd do all these, even if I'm not sure you'd do the
same for me.  I could have finished everything in that moment, you know.
Protected you for good. I had a good aim. I had an excuse - she was a
criminal, dammit! And she was going to destroy you.   But you placed
yourself in the line of fire; and now, it's you who's dying, by my own
hand.  Your blood ... Oh, God ... it's slowly seeping onto the pavement
and I see the glazed look in your eyes; the one I've seen so often in
people just before they die.   You start mumbling.   You know you're
dying, don't you? You're trying to keep yourself awake because you know
that if you close your eyes, you'll never see life again.  Don't do this
to me, Benny!  I don't know what I'll do if you don't pull through. I
won't be able to live, knowing I was the one who killed you.  I'll forgive
your betrayal. I'll even let you hate me, walk away from my life forever.
Just don't let me lose you this way.  Please. Please live.  8  Do you know
what your flaw is? You care too much.  Who are you really protecting, huh?
Yourself? Me?  You try to hide beyond that damned polite Mountie mask each
time. Do you think you could fool me with that? Do you actually believe I
don't know what happens when you say you're tired, you just don't feel
like talking right now and you turn away from me?  You can't stay awake
forever. That's why I know. I watch you when you're finally asleep, and
that's when I see the trail of tears on your face; the one you try to hide
from me each time.  The doctors say you'll live. I wonder, though. Maybe
it would have been better if I had just killed you.  Because I know she
still haunts you, and I'm powerless to stop her.  I'm there when she comes
for you in your sleep and you try to run --- away from her or towards her,
I don't know. All I know is, you call out her name, over and over. And you
cry.  The sun returns, you wake up, and you're back inside your shell of
politeness; the one you've hidden in practically all your life.  You were
once so alive. Why don't you put up a fight now?  I'd ask you if I could;
but hell, I don't even know if you've forgiven me. Have you, Benny?   One
thing I'm sure of, though.  I'd rather die than have her destroy you.  9 
I suppose I should be thankful. I could be out on the streets this minute,
pretending it never happened and silently going out of my mind. Instead,
I'm in therapy.  So, here I am in my therapist's office at three in the
afternoon, trying to find healing. Some healing. Is this what healing's
supposed to be? Two hours of ripping the past out of me, when all I want
is to forget?  In some way, I pity my therapist. I know she means well,
and she's been trying very hard. But I just can't talk anymore. I don't
need this.   "The shooting team cleared you. That must have been
reassuring."  "Yeah."  "How is he?"  "They found the bullet in the T-8
vertebrae, wherever that is."  "The thoracic region."  "It was too close
to the spine. They didn't wanna risk taking it out."  "I'm told that he's
expected to recover fully."  "Yeah."  She doesn't get it. No one does. But
I know what I need. I need your forgiveness, Benny. The problem is, I'm
too afraid to ask for it.   "Have you talked to him about any of this?" 
"He's barely conscious."  "Then you don't know how he feels."  "Look,
what's to know? I shot him, alright? He's fine, I'm fine, we're all fine!
Alright?"  I know you're trying very hard not to show it, but I know it's
there. I can feel your anger pushing me away.  "You know you can leave,
Ray. I mean, you don't have to come here everyday ... You have a job, you
should go to work ... You're in his chair ... No, thank you. You've ...
you've done more than enough."	I hear those words and I wince inwardly.
Is that your way of saying, "Thanks for nothing, you son of a bitch?"  You
hurt me, too, don't you remember?   It's so difficult to forget what
happened, but all I care about is for us to put this behind us. I'm
already swallowing my pride, can't you see that?  The least you can do is
meet me halfway and forgive me, too.  10  Here goes nothing ... again. 
"Ah!"  "It's a power saw."  "So it is."  "Top of the line, guaranteed not
to rust, with a lifetime guarantee."  "What's it for?"	"Your dad's cabin?
I thought we'd go up there and I'd help you rebuild it."  "Oh. Ray, you
hated that cabin."  "No, I didn't. I hated leaving it to go the can, which
brings me to ... this! Pick one, my treat."  "Ah, you really don't have to
do this."  "Trust me, I do, okay?"  "So ... what? I figured we'd go up
there two, three weeks. You'd get back your health and I'd kill three,
maybe four thousand mosquitoes ... I'll get that one. Ah, wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait. Hold on ... You okay?"  "Yeah, just a little tired."	I
try to look for that response in your eyes, the one I've grown accustomed
to these past weeks. The one that says, leave me alone.   "You want me to
go?"  "No."  I smile at you -- God, I never thought I'd smile again.   "It
is pretty cool."  I sit and fool around with your wheelchair, try and find
the courage to finally say the words I've been meaning to say for the
longest time.	Say it.   "I'm thinking it'd be good that we go up there
for a while ..."  I'm so afraid ... no.  Say it.  The words slip out of my
mouth before I could stop myself.  "... try to put Victoria behind us." 
You freeze at my words, and your hand drops limply to your chest.   "You
know, it'll be like a do-over. You know, like a fresh start. Right?" 
Slowly, I see the forgiveness in your eyes.   "Right."	And I just laugh.
Now I know.   There was no need for me to feel scared at all. I only had
to ask, didn't I? I only had to ask.   11  Oh, God. This bullet wound
hurts like hell!  I thought you were on leave? You should have told me
you'd still be in "Super Mountie" mode. I could have gotten myself a
bulletproof vest or something.	 But I don't really mind at all, actually.
All that matters is that you're safe.  I won't even think twice about
doing this again for you, Benny.  12  "Yow! That hurts! You're gonna pay
for this, sis! This is fine Italian footwear!"	"Then stop bugging me
before I really drill a hole in your shoe! Yoo-hoo, Benton!"  I try to
ignore the throbbing pain caused by the stiletto heel Frannie just smashed
down on my foot. Great birthday gift.  I watch you from afar and smile in
spite of the pain. There's nothing more amusing than seeing the RCMP's
chick magnet squirming from female temptation.	 Jill would have loved
this if ... oh, well.	You know, I liked her for you. She's okay. She's
stubborn like you said, but she's got a sharp mind. And I could tell she
cared a lot about you.	 She told me, actually.  " ... but we're just
better off as friends."  "How come?"  "He's not ready."  "It's been over a
year ..."  "Yes, I know. But he's still not ready to move on. I don't
think I'd want to be in a one-way love affair. It's enough that we're
friends."  "I know he cares about you."  "Yes, I know he does. But it's
not me he really wants. He thinks he loves me, maybe that's why he
proposed that one time. But ... you know him better than I do, Ray. You
should be able to see it, too. He still loves her."  My thoughts turn to
that moment, just a week ago. Exactly one year to the day she came back
into your life.   I should have known why you were on leave that day.	I
dropped into your apartment that night, right after work; only to find you
huddled in the darkest corner of your room, weeping.  "Benny ..."  "I'm
sorry, it's just ... I still miss her ... oh, God."  And I held you in my
arms to comfort you, until you fell asleep.   I look at you now, and the
thought that crosses my mind just stuns me.  I could hold you in my arms
for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be long enough.  Oh, God.  I
can't think about this now. Not on my birthday.   I'll have to face this
some other time.   13  I've never really cared about seeing you
buck-naked, Benny. I understand why just about every female in Chicago
wants you in bed. You're exceptionally handsome, even I know that. But you
and me ... same parts, same accessories ... and you're my best friend, for
God's sake! Why should I care at all, right?  It's not as if I've never
seen you without any clothes on. Remember that time in the hospital when
we were running after Geiger and I had to hold your hospital gown from
behind? I saw a sight every woman would have died for, but I didn't care. 
So, why can't I take my eyes off you right now?  I mean, I've seen you
like this hundreds of times. It's a common sight, actually. We play
baseball or basketball, or we run together. Then we go to your apartment
or my house, and we take turns at the shower. I've seen you in after-bath
situations wearing nothing more than a fresh, lemon soap scent and I never
cared.	But now, you're in front of me, all damp and pink and smelling
oh-so-good and you're running your hand through your wet hair and you've
got nothing on except jeans you haven't gotten round to fully closing and
...  I'm thinking that I wouldn't mind at all if I made love to you right
now.  This is not good.  14  I'm tired of walking around these streets
night after night, trying to find out what the hell is wrong with me. 
This has never happened before.   I've had women in my life, you know.
Angie, Irene ...  I just never thought it would be you I'd love the most. 
What am I saying?  They say that partners can't help but form such a deep
bond because of all the time they've spent together, and everything
they've been through. Maybe that explains why I feel this way. It's the
bond we have with each other, isn't it?  I look at myself in the mirror
these days, and all I can see in my eyes is fear. I'm a cop and cops don't
feel afraid, right? At least, they're not supposed to. But I'm scared as
hell.  I can't stop thinking about you, Benny. About us.  I don't know how
I feel about you anymore. I don't even know who I am anymore.  Why is this
happening?  I lie awake for hours and wonder how I ever got myself into
this mess. How could I have allowed this to happen? I could have put an
end to this before things got out of hand, couldn't I?	I pray everyday,
not just to God; but to the Blessed Mother and all of my favorite saints -
God, I've never prayed so hard in my entire life - and I ask them to take
away my feelings for you. Because feeling like this is wrong - at least,
that's what I've been taught. I've heard that one could burn in hell for
this. But I just don't know anymore. My heart used to tell me this was
wrong, until you came along.  How could loving someone as good as you be
wrong?	I visit the church everyday to offer flowers to the Blessed
Mother. I know it's just a statue of Her; but to me, she's real, you know
- like Ma. And I pray the rosary three consecutive times. Twice each day.
That's like talking to her. And I beg her to intercede for me; to stop
this test, if this is a test.  Because I know I won't have the strength to
stop loving you, Benny.  15  Welsh invited me to his office today. He
wants me to go undercover. He says I performed brilliantly during the
NAFTA deal, and he trusts that I'll handle this assignment well. That and
the fact that I'm a dead-ringer for that Mob leader, David Spirelli. 
Spirelli's on Witness Protection now; he's going to teach me all about
becoming him. I've got a few months to learn everything I can before I go
undercover.  If we're lucky, we'll bring down a drug ring. If not, I lose
my life. What do I say? "Sure." I mean, what else is there to say? I'm a
cop. It's my duty to enforce the Law, right? Plus, it's going to get me
promoted.  But really, the truth is, I just want to hide.  Because this
can't go on.  I can't continue acting like this, pretending to be your
best friend when all I want is to be your lover. Pretending I support your
new lease on love when all I want to say is, "Why can't it be me instead
of her?"  You tell me all about inviting Thatcher over for coffee in your
calm, non-descript way. But I see the slight, upward curl of your lips and
the dance of life back in your eyes. You're finally beginning to love
again, aren't you?  So I smile and tease you, like any best friend would.
I say, "Way to go, Benny!" even when I feel all dead inside.  Because the
truth hurts, Benny. I love you, you don't love me. At least not in the way
I want you to. And even if I had the courage to tell you how I feel, I
don't think I can bear hearing your answer. I know what you'll say,
anyway.   What did I hear you say once? "If you know who you are, there's
no need to hide."  Well, I don't know who I am anymore. All I know is I
love you, and I don't know what that means. The world doesn't understand;
I can't say I do, either.   So I run.  16  Preparing for this assignment
has taken me away from you.  I'm glad.	I'd leave, and my secret would
still be safe.	17  I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my leaving a secret
from you for long. After all, you're the one who knows me best.  You ask
me what's going on and you look at me so honestly ...  So I tell you.  I
see your face turn all white. You open your mouth to speak, but not a word
comes out.   "I understand."   18  It gets harder to speak each day. I'm
running out of words to sugarcoat the truth. There's nothing sweet about
goodbyes, at all.  You try to pretend as if nothing's changed; try to show
me you'll be fine.  I'd believe you if I could.  Only I see your smile
getting thinner with every day that passes.  19  You stood before me, all
wet and shivering. You came in from the cold, past the unrelenting fury of
the rain outside.   "Jeez, Benny! What the hell are you doing?"   I pulled
you by the arm and guided you into the house.	"Come on. Let's go
upstairs to my room and find you a change of clothes."	"I'll ... I'll get
your house all wet."  "Hey, I'd rather have a wet floor than a dead
Mountie. Don't worry about it. We'll clean everything up later."  20  You
sat motionless on the edge of my bed, head bent, your hands on your lap. I
knelt in front of you, took the towel from your hand and started rubbing
it against your arms.	"What's wrong, Benny?"	 I raised my head to look
at you.   "Oh, God. Benny, no. Don't cry, please."   I found myself
touching the back of your hands with my fingers then; tracing the slight
indentations where the veins lay. Feeling your flesh, all ice and tremors.
You closed your eyes as I moved to cup your face in my hands. I ran my
forefinger against your lashes, felt the tip come into contact with your
tears.	"What's wrong?"  You spoke to me softly, your voice trembling and
unsure like a child caught in his tricks. "You once told me I should stand
up for myself," you said. "To fight for what I want. Well, I'm doing it
now."  You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, as if you wanted to calm
yourself. You then opened your eyes to look at me. Then you uttered a
miracle.  "I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay. I love you." 
No.  "I can't. We both know that."   My hands left your face as I rose. I
walked away from you and sat in the chair next to the window. I buried my
head in my hands. You followed, and knelt in front of me.   We remained
silent for a long time, until you spoke in a voice I could not believe was
yours -- soft, yet filled with urgency.   "Then give me this night," you
whispered.  I rose from the chair, and gently pulled you to your feet. We
embraced tightly. I felt the warm, erratic spell of your breathing against
my neck. I pulled away from you briefly. I swear, I could just drown in
the blue of your eyes.	 We kissed.  21  Naked against each other now, I
draped my body over yours and you held me tightly; as if you were afraid
you'd lose me if you let go. I brushed the damp strands of hair away from
your forehead and looked at you.  Close your eyes. I don't want to see the
sadness in them.  We said nothing to each other in those last hours;
instead, we let our bodies reveal our love. We kissed gently and chastely,
like new lovers. I ran my fingers lightly against your parted lips, now
swollen from my deep explorations.   God, I love you so much.  The touch
of your skin, the taste of your sweat as I ran my tongue against your
body. I never knew I hungered for you that much. And you responded with
your own fevered need; your body straining to chase the source of your
pleasure. I closed my hand, my mouth around you, and you followed -
matching each rhythm, following the warmth and the heat.  I listed to your
ragged breathing, and the incoherent sounds that escaped your lips.
Nothing would ever match the sweetness of our song.  I'll love you
forever.  You gave up the fight with a long, drawn cry; and you finally
surrendered and died in my love.  I remember lying in your arms after it
was all over, thinking "I am home."  God, it was so real.  Why must it be
just a dream?  22  Tomorrow, when I step out into the world, I'll be a
different man.	God, I'm so afraid.  23  You're so quiet, Benny.  I can't
stand it.  "How about an Inuit story, eh, Benny? One for the road?"  Maybe
then, I won't have to listen to the pain in my heart.  You lick your lips
quickly, and smile briefly at me. "Are you sure you really want to hear
one?"  "Sure, I'm sure."  "How about a different story? Would that be
alright?"  "Well, okay."  You stare out the window once more, and you look
at the streets - our streets. From early morning until nighttime, we
walked through them today - one last time. You sigh deeply, and you begin.
You draw the words out from deep within your soul, as if from memory. And
you whisper them to me in the softest, saddest voice I've ever heard you
speak. Our story.  "There was a little prince who left his own little
world on a journey. On his way, he met a fox. He told the fox, 'Come, play
with me. I am so unhappy.'"  "The fox said, 'I cannot play with you, for I
am not tamed.'"  "The little prince asked him what that meant, and the fox
replied, 'It is an act too often neglected. It means to establish ties.
Just that. To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is like
a hundred thousand other little boys. We have no need of each other. To
you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But
if you tame me, then we shall need each other. It will be as if the sun
came down to shine on my life. The sound of your steps shall call me out
of my burrow. The color of your hair shall remind me of the grain-fields
down yonder. I shall remember you each time I look at the grain-fields,
and I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat.'"	"The fox looked at
the prince for a long time. And then he said, 'Please - tame me!'"  "The
little prince asked him what he must do. The fox said, 'You must be very
patient. First, you must sit down at a little distance from me - like that
- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you
will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will
sit closer to me, every day.'"	"Next day, the little prince visited the
fox, who said, "It would have been better to come back at the same hour.
If, for example, you came at four o' clock in the afternoon, then at three
o' clock, I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as
the hour advances. At four o' clock, I shall already be worrying and
jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at any
time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet
you. One must observer the proper rites."  "The little prince tamed the
fox. When it was time for him to depart, the fox said, 'Ah, I shall cry.'"
 "'It is your own fault,' the little prince answered. 'I never wished you
any harm; but you wanted me to tame you.'"  "'Yes,' the fox replied." 
"The Little Prince said, 'You are going to cry! Then it has done you no
good at all!'"	"But the fox said, 'It has done me good, because of the
color of the wheatfields.'"  "Before the little prince left, the fox told
him a secret. 'It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is
essential is invisible to the eye. Men have forgotten the truth, but you
must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have
tamed.'"  You turn to me, and I see the faintest trace of dampness on your
cheeks. You bring your hand into your pocket, draw out a compass and place
them in my hand.  The Inuits say that one's most treasured possessions
carry with it the thoughts and wishes of the owner. My father gave this
compass to me when I made it into the RCMP. I never used this one ... I'd
like you to have it."  "If you find yourself lost in the wilderness and
you can't find your way back, the love of your friends and family will
bring you home. We'll wait -" and your voice broke. "I'll wait for you,
Ray."  I love you, I love you, I'm dying here.	I reach back to unclasp
the chain that held my Father's cross, the cross of my faith. I bring my
necklace around your neck.   I hold you tightly, try to put all my love in
that embrace.	"He'll protect you while I'm gone, Benny. But I'll be
back. I'll make sure of that."	- End of Book One -  03 November 1998   
E-mail the author: Blue_Grey_Eyes@hotmail.com