Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind? Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind? By: Michelle Sinclair. Rated R (m/m premise). Drama (**Note: Just a quick warning. There is a m/m premise here but nothing graphic.) Prologue: The End of Everything This is the end of everything This is the end I know This is the end of everything Take your love with you when you go This is the end of happiness This is the end of dreams This is the end of everything It's the end for you and me I don't know what to do In my heart I still love you I don't know what to say I will always feel this way This is the end of everything This is the end I know This is the end of everything Take your love with you when you go Chris Isaak 'End Of Everything'--Forever Blue When the plane touched down at LaGuardia Airport in the borough of Queens in New York City, the Mountie felt something like a feeling stir within. It probably was indigestion, the Mountie mused. The Mountie's stomach twisted and turned, leaving him with a feeling of nausea. If he wasn't sure it was indigestion, he might have to conclude it was fear. But it was indigestion, of that he was now completely certain. The Mountie (dressed in civilian clothes because he was sure that his uniform would not go over well in NYC) exited the plane and headed outside. The air was heavy on this late April day in Queens. It was misty and dank, reflecting the rain that was yet to come or already had come or may yet come again. The Mountie surveyed his new surroundings. He concluded that the snow and wilderness of the Yukon were more welcoming than the unwavering callousness that was this city. The Mountie (having left his hat behind) headed toward one of the several taxis that had converged around the airport. He half expected a "rude New Yorker" to push him out of the way and jump into the cab he had selected. It didn't happen. He got in the car and told the driver to take him to the Plaza. The Mountie knew, as surely as he knew that the sun would rise tomorrow that someone was going to die in New York City today. Of course, he didn't know who would die. It might be he. He also knew, that if *he* didn't die, he might as well. It was more than probable that he would never see Chicago or the person he loved that was in Chicago, ever again. The Cop felt pain. The pain of rejection. It had happened before, but it never cut so deep. Why? He asked himself. Why was he so naive? Did he actually truly believe that the Mountie loved him? The Cop had to laugh at that. Obviously it was an absurd notion. Of course the Mountie was just playing with him, toying with his emotions. The Mountie had everyone fooled, didn't he? Playing all self righteous and holier-than-thou. The Cop closed his eyes as a way of damming up the flood of tears that threatened to come. The Cop had thought it odd when the Mountie had asked him to leave his apartment in the middle of the night. The Cop had asked why, but the Mountie had said only "Please go, I'll explain in the morning." While this worried the Cop, he had complied. The Cop got his explanation all right. The Mountie had left a note on his desk for the Cop to find this morning. The actual words of the note didn't matter. It had boiled down to the Mountie realizing what a mistake their relationship was and saying goodbye, you'll never see me again. There was a wound now, in the Cop's soul. He could feel the wound throb and burn. It would never go away. The Cop had no one to blame for this but himself. ***** Part I: Sex, Lies and Videotape I know somebody and they cry for you they lie awake at night and dream of you I bet you never even know they do But somebody's crying I know somebody and they call your name a million times and still you never came They go on loving you just the same I know that somebody's trying Chris Isaak 'Somebody's Crying'--Forever Blue In his hotel room finally (not *his* actually, the one *she* had paid for). He sat on the king sized bed. Much too opulent for his tastes, but it suited her. He held in his hands the package he had sent himself from Chicago yesterday. He had sent it as soon as he had received her note. He had returned home from the consulate and had been ready to prepare a dinner for himself and his lover. Ray. He felt a dull ache in the depths of his being. He suspected the site where the suffering resided was the void where his soul used to be. Returning his attention to the package in his hands, he began to open it. It was his RCMP issue hand gun. He took in a sharp breath. He couldn't take it on the plane so he had sent it express mail yesterday to the hotel so he would have it when he arrived today. Her note had been explicit enough: Be at the Plaza in Manhattan by 3:00 P.M. tomorrow. I need you. Ray will suffer if you don't come. With Love, Victoria.' He tucked the gun between the waist of his jeans and his skin. It was reassuring to feel the cold metal there at his side. His watch said 3:02 P.M., she was late. Where could she be? He tried not to think about Ray. He didn't want to recognize the amount of hurt he had caused Ray. He had left him an unfeeling little note at the station. It had said, in effect: "It was wrong, we were wrong. I'm sorry. I'm leaving Chicago. Goodbye." He had left Dief with Willie and told Willie that if he didn't hear from Fraser in a week to assume he could keep Diefenbaker. Despite Willie's protests and inquiries he had accepted Fraser's entreaty. It was better like this, Fraser concluded, better for everyone. He had to take care of Victoria on his own. He heard the door lock turn and soon beheld that curly haired cockatrice (what made him liken her to a mythological creature that could kill with a mere glance? A creature so dreadful if it saw its own reflection in a mirror it supposedly died of fright? Just coincidence, he imagined). "Ben. I knew you'd come." She was smiling. She was still absolutely beautiful to him. "Why Victoria? Why now?" "What? No 'hello'? No 'I missed you so'? Come on, Ben. I missed you terribly, didn't you miss me?" "In a way." "In what way?" She was close to him now, running her hands over his face, through his short hair. "Like you miss a dead relative," was his answer. "Is that what I am to you Ben? Dead? Is that why you forgot all about me and fell into Ray's arms? Hmmm? Did I drive you to that?" He was startled by this comment. How in God's name could she know about him and Ray? Unless she was watching them, unless she had seen them . . . "Oh Ben. I feel so guilty. To think, I'm responsible for the waste of a perfectly good man. Tell me though Ben, he can't make you *feel* what I make you feel, can he Ben?" She was condescending. Her words dripped with acid. She had her hand on his chest, undoing the buttons one by one. "How . . . how do you . . . " "Know? Simple really. I've been watching you for some time now." "Watching us?" "Oh yes. I wanted to keep an eye on you, my sweet Ben. I needed to see that you were okay. After that bastard shot you and I had fled . . . well, I was worried you might get so depressed that you might actually do something rash--well, you did do *something* rash, just not the something I had imagined. Really Ben, it is shameless the way you and he romp around in that bed. To think *we* did *that* in that bed . . . " "How, Victoria? How did you *watch* us? Have you been in Chicago the whole time?" "Of course not. You would've seen me. Or worse, Ray would have. He wants to shoot me, Ben." "How then?!" She was trying his patience. But he had a sick sensation of just *how* she was watching him. "Video, my love. The miracle of modern technology. A teeny, tiny camera placed at a *very* advantageous angle in your apartment. No sound, but it did its job. I must admit I think the sound of your voice screaming out 'Oh Ray' might have sent me off the depths." She smiled now at him. "I, of course, have a tape of you and him. Admittedly I wanted to burn it countless times. It cuts so deep Ben." "What are you going to do with this tape?" "Oh, I don't know . . . send it to all the *right* people in Chicago, I suppose. Imagine the destruction this tape could cause to your precious Ray. His career, his very life would be in ruins." "Why Victoria?! He never hurt you. I was the one who hurt you." "Oh, he hurt me, Ben!" Her voice was loud now and biting. "You don't know. You have no idea how painful it was to watch him with his hands all over you . . . touching you. You belong to *me* Ben, not him! I cried over you Ben! I wept for you! And then I have to sit and watch him *fuck* you?!" "What is it you want from me then? Why ask me to come here?" She seemed to calm a little. Just a little. He suddenly remembered the gun at his side. But he couldn't kill her. Not yet. He needed to know where this tape was. "You Ben. It's always been you." She said this with intense feeling. She kneeled down on the bed in front of him. "I do love you Ben. You know that." "You love me? Yet you seek to hurt me." "No! Never." "Never? You threaten to release this tape? To ruin Ray's life, his career? That hurts me, Victoria." "Ben you just . . . you're confused . . . you'll see. Once we're away from this damnable country, you'll see." She sounded almost desperate. The anger in her eyes was clear though. "How do I know that you won't release the tape anyway? How do I know you haven't done it already?" "Trust me, Ben." "Trust you? What have you ever done causing me to have faith in you?" "I could ask the same question." That comment pierced into him like a poisonous dart. She was right, after all. What had he ever done to deserve her trust? "Victoria . . . where is the tape?" "Safe. So Ben, what will it be? You coming with me this time like you were going to do last time before *Ray* got in our way? Or are you going to be responsible for the end of everything for him?" "I need to see this tape. How do I know if you even have a tape?" "Fair enough, Ben." She walked away from him now. She removed a video cassette from her purse, slid it out of its jacket, and popped it into the VCR. "I knew you'd want proof." She pressed play. Sure enough there they were, he and Ray. It was a particularly graphic tape. There was no doubt who the people on the tape were. He watched in agony as Ray lay in his arms on the TV screen, the tape was authentic, there was no doubt. He saw Victoria wince at this scene. She looked at him now. "Getting turned on, Ben?" "Victoria, I don't understand why you'd want me to come away with you. Obviously it disturbs you to see me with Ray. Why would you still want me?" "Everyone's allowed to make a mistake, Ben. Even you. Well, you've made several concerning me, haven't you? Besides, I must have caused you so much pain that you were seduced by that lecherous man." Her anger was reaching a crescendo again. "You're wrong, Victoria. I wasn't coerced. I went willingly. I wanted Ray. It took all the suffering and fury that you caused in me to get me to finally see clearly. Ray's love is the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't love you anymore Victoria. I don't know that I ever did. Not the way I love Ray." She just shook her head. She had removed a revolver from her purse now and had it pointed at his head. "Oh Ben. I'm afraid that *wasn't* the right answer!" ***** Part II: How do you numb your skin? How do you cool your lips After a summer's kiss? How do you rid the sweat After the body bliss? How do you turn your eyes From the romantic glare? How do you block the sound of a voice You'd know anywhere? Oh I really should have known by the time You drove me home By the vagueness in your eyes Your casual goodbyes By the chill in your embrace The expression on your face Told me Maybe you might have Some advice to give On how to be Insensitive Insensitive Insensitive How do you numb your skin After the warmest touch? How do you slow your blood After the body rush? How do you free your soul After you've found a friend? How do you teach your heart It's a crime to fall in love again? Oh you probably won't remember me It's probably ancient history I'm one of the chosen few Who went ahead and fell for you I'm out of bold I'm out of touch I fell too fast I feel too much I thought that you might have Some advice to give On how to be Insensitive Jann Arden Insensitive' Ray was still at the station . He had to get his mind off that Mountie. He was at his desk. Detective Huey had asked when he arrived "Where's Big Red?" Ray had shot him such a withering glance that Huey had immediately clammed up. Ray was looking at a file. Looking, not reading. The words didn't make sense to him. He had lost his ability to read unexpectedly. Damn Fraser! Damn him to high hell! Ray had been trying to submerge his feelings some place where they couldn't hurt him. He was failing miserably. Benny hurt and angered him. Even though it had been less than 24 hours since he'd seen "Big Red" it didn't matter. Ray realized that it didn't make a difference if it was a minute, an hour, a day, or a year. The anguish wasn't going to subside. Quite abruptly Ray found himself filled with a rage that he knew no equal to. He couldn't let Benny get away with just walking out like this. He demanded an explanation better than "it just was wrong." It wasn't so wrong when he made Benny beg for more was it? He was sure that was ecstasy, not regret on the Mountie's face. Ray got up from his desk and decided to go to Ben's apartment and get to the bottom of this. He almost made it out the door when he found him self toe-to-toe with Inspector Meg Thatcher. The Dragon Lady had come for answers. "Detective Vecchio, a *word*?" He felt the temperature in the room fall at least 20 degrees. "I'd love to chat, Inspector, but I really have an important case to attend to . . . " "D.t. Vecchio. Do not, if you value your life, walk past *that* spot." Ray let out a sigh of defeat. "What can I do for you ma'am?" "Have you seen Constable Fraser?" "No ma'am. I haven't seen him. Can I go?" "Any idea where he is, Vecchio?" "Not the slightest." "He didn't come to the consulate this morning, didn't call. I thought you might know something." "How would *I* know anything?" "I know you're *close* to Constable Fraser." Now what in hell did she mean by that? "Yeah well, you know, Que sera." "Detective. If you *see* the constable would you tell him, he had better report to work and better have a *good* explanation for his disappearance." "I'll tell him if I see him, ma'am." This time Ray got past Meg and was out the front door, in the Riv. and on his way to Ben's apartment. He truly hated this neighborhood. He had begged Ben countless times to move. But the Mountie was safe here. He was a sort of guardian angel for the neighborhood. He heard a small, familiar whine as he bounded up the stairs. He looked down. "Hey big guy, didn't Benny take you with him . . . wherever he went?" The wolf just stared at him pitifully. Ray couldn't believe Benny would just abandon the wolf. "Hey! Diefenbaker! Wait up would ya--" Willie Lambert came in after Dief and then saw the cop. "Oh. You," he said this with a small measure of displeasure. "Yeah me. You know where Fraser is, kid?" "Nope." "What are you doing with Diefenbaker?" "Fraser came over this morning before school and asked me to look out for him for a few days." "Yeah? What else did Fraser say?" "Is he in some kind of trouble?" "I don't know. That's what I'm trying to find out, kid. So what else did he say?" "Nothing. He was in a hurry. He asked me to take care of Dief and said if he didn't call within a week that I could just keep him." "Keep Dief?" "Yep. So what's going on?" Ray frowned. He was confused. There was no way Ben would just leave Dief behind unless there was something *really* wrong. Ray pulled out his gun and opened the door to Ben's place saying "Police!" The place was empty though. Dief hopped merrily inside. Ray went in, followed by Willie. The place was neat as usual. No sign of any foul play. Actually it was impeccably clean, not a thing out of place except a small slip of paper that lay on the Mountie's bed. Ray picked the paper up. His mind swam at the words on the paper. There was only one he could make out: "Victoria." Ray felt himself ready to vomit. That bitch. Of course she was involved in this. He reread the note. Plaza, NYC, 3:00 P.M.. "Willie. You watch Diefenbaker. If you don't hear from me in a week--" "I can keep the Riv.?" "No, you can call D.t. Huey at the station and give him this note. He'll understand." Ray left the wolf and the boy and headed to his car. Damn that woman and curse Benny for running to her like a little trained puppy. But then there was a mention of his name in the note, maybe Benny was trying to protect him. But it didn't matter to Ray what Ben's motives were. He still should have come to Ray. Ray wasn't sure why he was running off to NYC after Benny but he gave himself a reason that seemed satisfactory. No matter how Benny may feel about him, and whether or not he chose Victoria over him didn't matter. Ray knew, knew deep down in his gut that this woman was dangerous to Benny. Ray wasn't going to let that serpent hurt Benny again. For that reason alone he would have followed them to NY. There was another reason. A jealous wrath that Ray could sense pulsating beneath the surface of his desire to protect Benny was another driving force. Ray pushed that feeling down another layer and kept his eyes on the road. ***** Part III: I Believe I believe the stars keep shining all through the night I believe if we just keep trying it'll be all right I believe that someday I'm gonna find my way And I believe in a beautiful day I believe in lovers walking side by side I believe that someday you'll be satisfied I believe the angels listen God hears us pray And I believe in a beautiful day Yeah I believe its gonna work out okay But not for me And not for you I believe there's an answer waiting when the day is done I believe if you just keep searching you'll find someone I believe that you and I just lost our way And I believe in a beautiful day I still believe in a beautiful day But not for me And not for you I know you tried I tried too Sometimes all our dreams just don't come true Chris Isaak "I Believe"--Forever Blue Victoria had waved the gun in Ben's face for a few minutes. But they both knew she had no intention of firing it at him. She had it in her hand still but she wasn't brandishing it. He had been trying to get out of her the information on where the original copy of the tape was. "Victoria?" "Come to your senses, Ben?" "How many copies are there?" "Oh, you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?" "Yes, I would. Victoria, I can't come with you if I know that you could still ruin Ray's life. How many copies Victoria?" "Three. This one," she said, holding up the copy she had played for him, "one in a safety deposit box in a bank in New Mexico and one in an airport locker at Kennedy." Ben thought for a moment. She could be lying to him now. He had no way of knowing if there were tapes in those places. He had no way of knowing if there were only three tapes or if there were 30. "Why New Mexico, Victoria?" "Why not?" she sighed. "Well Ben, what's it going to be?" "I need to think . . . alone." "Fine. I know you won't leave here. I have to check on some things anyway. I'll be back in two hours. I'll expect your answer then." She left him then, taking the tape with her. He looked around the room. Trying to gain equilibrium. She had left him reeling. There was no way to protect Ray from her wrath except to kill her. He knew this. Even if he went with her, she could still ruin Ray. He noticed she had left the jacket of the video tape on the dresser. He moved over and took it in his hands. It was simply black with a label that read "Victoria Metcalf." He stared at the label. In very small print in the corner he saw "Starlight Video Labs, Chicago, Illinois." There was no phone number. But he had a feeling . . . there was no way to record the goings on in his apartment unless it was a closed circuit television camera that could feed the images to a remote location. And from what he knew of closed circuit television, the range was very limited. And she hadn't been in Chicago she said . . . He picked up the telephone and asked for Chicago Information. He was hooked up to an operator in the Windy City. "What listing please?" "Starlight Video Labs." "One moment." Ben waited and soon the voice said. "Hold for your number." A tinny voice soon repeated the number twice. Ben hung the phone up and dialed the number of the lab. "Starlight Video," came a youngish sounding voice. "Hello. I am calling about a video tape that I believe you produced for me." "What kind of tape sir?" "I believe it was recorded on closed circuit television. The name is Victoria Metcalf." "Oh yeah, I remember her. Real pretty." "Yes, she's my . . . sister. She asked me to call because she seems to have misplaced the tapes she had you make for her." "Yeah, she payed us in cash to have her boyfriend's place wired. Pretty tricky job." "That was three tapes, right?" "Yeah, well, we made lots of tapes, we had to send her about five a week full of all the stuff going on in his place. She came in one day and we edited it down to one tape's worth of useful footage. I guess she was gonna blackmail the bum," he snickered. "When did she come in?" "Uh, about four days ago." "How many copies of the final tape did you make for her?" "Well, we duplicated three. We sent one to a bank in New Mexico and the other two to the Plaza in NYC." "Three? And, could she have made other copies?" "Oh, no way, they wouldn't come out good. These tapes we use cannot be copied by a normal VCR. It's better for business." "I would imagine. These other tapes full of footage, in case we can't find the misplaced copies, do you still have them?" "No. We destroyed them at her request. But we still have a master copy of the final tape if you need it . . . " "Yes, I need it. But I need *the* master copy. I don't want you to keep a copy in your archive." "Okay, you're gonna have to come down here with ID and then we can turn it over to you . . . " "Thank you kindly." Ben hung the phone up. He knew now that there was a way out of this. Only four tapes existed. Two were in NY. One was in New Mexico and the last one was in a video lab in Chicago. He dialed Ray's cellular phone number. He would have to confide in Ray after all. He just prayed that Ray would listen to him. ***** Part IV: Hurt Like Hell Hold on Hold on to yourself for this is gonna hurt like hell. Hold on Hold on to yourself you know that only time can tell What is it in me that refuses to believe this isn't easier than the real thing. My love you know you're my best friend You know I'd do anything for you and my love let nothing come between us my love for you is strong and true Am I in heaven here or am I . . . --Sarah McLachlan Hold On'--Fumbling Towards Ecstasy Arriving in New York was the easy part. Confronting Benny and Victoria was harder. If Ray found them in bed together, he might shoot them both. He arrived at the Plaza. He went to the desk and asked for the room of "Benton Fraser." The desk clerk informed him there was no Benton Fraser at the Plaza. He asked for Victoria Metcalf. There was a Victoria Metcalf but he couldn't let Ray have the room information, it was against hotel policy. Ray flashed his badge and the clerk failed to notice it wasn't an NYPD badge and promptly told Ray the room number. Ray went on up. He didn't bother knocking on the door he simply yelled police and prepared to kick it in. The door swung open before he could do that. "RAY!!! What are you doing in NY?" "I could ask you the same question Benny," Ray grumbled. "Where is she?" Ray walked into the room, past Benny. "Ray, how did you find me?" "You left the note she sent you, you moron." Ray threw the little piece of crumpled up paper at Benny. WHERE IS SHE?!" "Out. Ray, you have to leave. If she comes back--" "I ain't leaving Fraser. Answers. Start talking." "Ray, must you be so difficult?" "Fraser! You walked out on me! No explanation. Nothin'! You can't just treat people like that or didn't the Inuit have a story about that?" "Ray. If Victoria finds you here . . . " "What? What's she gonna do? What would she do if I told her the *truth* Fraser? Huh? About all those times in your bed that you and I--" "She knows Ray." "What?!" "She's had my apartment wired with a closed circuit camera for some time now. She has a tape of us . . . you know. She's going to use it to destroy you. That's why I'm here with her. I'm sorry Ray. I seem to keep ruining your life." Ray's anger subsided a little. So Fraser was really just trying to protect him? "Is that the truth Benny? You sure some little part of you didn't want to run off to be with her?" "I told her I never loved her. Could never love her the way I love you. She doesn't seem to care. There are four copies of the tape. Two are here in NY. One is in New Mexico and the last one is a master copy that the Video Lab in Chicago has. I was trying to call you . . . to get the tape . . .you were . . . out of range." Ray could see the pain in Ben's eyes. He was clearly hurting for having left Ray and was feeling responsible for the trouble Ray was in now. "Oh. Well, we have to get the tapes, Fraser." "Yes, but I'm afraid if she sees you here it will be impossible." "Ah, too late." There was that voice. The one that kept him alive in the blizzard. The one that claimed love for him. The one that knew just what to say to get him to react the way it wanted him to. "Nice to see you, Ray. It's been too long." She had her revolver trained on Ben. Ray had his out too, pointed at Victoria. "Drop the gun, Vecchio. I'll shoot Ben if you don't. You know I'll do it." He put the gun on the edge of the bed. "This was a stupid mistake, Ben. Why'd you call Vecchio?" "He found the note you left me in my apartment." "Ah. Such a smart detective. Almost as good of a cop as you, Ben. Do *you* always get your man, Ray?" She looked at Ray with her steely eyes. "Well, evidently you do. Well now what am I going to do? Hmm boys? I guess I could solve my *Ray* problem permanently, now couldn't I?" She was pointing the gun at Ray. Ben watched her finger play on the trigger. It was shaking there, but squeezing the trigger back ever so slowly. "NOOOOOOO!" Ben roared and in an instance had removed the RCMP issue hand gun from his side and fired off one shot. Ray had hit the floor as her gun had fired. Ray had avoided the bullet. Ben stood there in horror. He didn't feel anything. Numbness washed over him. He quickly went to Victoria's side. The gun had clattered a few feet away. "Victoria?" She looked up at him. Blood was pouring from the wound in her stomach. She blinked backed tears. "Ben . . . I knew you had it in you." She smiled faintly at him. "Hold on Victoria. Come on." "No . . . too late for me . . . Ben?" "Yes?" "You loved me, didn't you?" "Yes Victoria, always." She smiled sadly now. "I knew you did. I love . . . loved . . . love . . . you . . . " Ray had kneeled down beside Ben and Victoria now. "The ambulance is coming Benny." "I thought it would be you, Ray," she choked at him. "So did I," he said sadly, looking at Benny. The tears were spilling down Ben's face. ***** Part V: Good Enough So don't tell me I haven't been good to you Don't tell me I haven't been there for you Just tell me why nothing is good enough -Sarah McLachlan Good Enough'--Fumbling Towards Ecstasy A week. The Mountie felt grief. It still ebbed and flowed throughout his body. The funeral had been surreal. It hadn't felt like it was he attending it. He and the Cop had been the only mourners. Victoria was buried in a small cemetery in NY. The Mountie had no idea where else to bury her. The NY police had bought the story about it being self defense. Besides, she was a wanted criminal. No need to put a law-abiding Mountie in jail for the death of a criminal. The Mountie and the Cop had returned to Chicago the next day. Through his connections the Cop had all the copies of the video tape found and destroyed. That threat was gone. The Cop also had all the closed circuit cameras removed from the Mountie's apartment. The Cop was keeping his distance from the Mountie. He knew that the Mountie was suffering. After all, how could he not suffer? He had shot and killed the only woman he ever loved. The Cop understood a little of what the Mountie felt. He had lost Irene in a similar way. But he hadn't been the one to deliver the bullet. But he felt a sorrow that was not unlike how he would have felt if he had shot Irene himself though. The Cop decided he wanted to see the Mountie. He had to talk to him. He could feel the Mountie slipping away from him. He went over to the apartment. It was close to Midnight. He knocked on the Mountie's door. "Come." He did. "I just wanted to make sure you're all right." The Mountie was leaning against the wall near the window, looking sideways through it. "I killed her." "You didn't mean to. You were protecting me. Did I thank you for that?" "No, I meant to. I wanted to. I knew I would do it. When I got her note. I knew." "You were just protecting me. Stop blaming yourself." The Cop was approaching the Mountie. "I would have killed her anyway. Even if you weren't in danger. I loved her. But I couldn't help her. I wasn't good enough." "Some people just can't be saved." "I don't believe that. Everyone can be saved." "No. You can't help people if they don't want to be helped." The Mountie seemed to ponder this thought. "Maybe you're right. I couldn't let her hurt you." The Cop was close to the Mountie now. He lay a gentle hand on the Mountie's shoulder. When the Mountie didn't protest, he slid his hand up the side of the Mountie's face, running his thumb across the Mountie's lips. "I know Benny. I know." ***** Epilogue: Holding Out Holding In I love the time and in between the calm inside me in the space where I can breathe I believe there is a distance I have wandered to touch upon the years of reaching out and reaching in holding out holding in. I believe this is heaven to no one else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to linger in silence if I choose to you would you try to understand. I know this love is passing time pass- ing through like liquid I am drunk in my own desire . . . But I love the way you smile at me I love the way your hands reach out and hold me near . . . I believe . . . I believe this is heaven to no one else but me and I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to linger in silence . . . -Sarah McLachlan Elsewhere'--Fumbling Towards Ecstasy Ben and Ray lay in their bed. It was silent and peaceful. It was a sharp contrast to the last few weeks. To Ray's surprise Ben had found his way back to him. Ray knew that Ben wasn't over Victoria. He knew that Ben might never get over her; might never forgive himself for her death. Ben had been unnervingly quiet since her death. Ray was suddenly aware of Ben's eyes on him. "Something on your mind, Benny?" "I was just thinking. I was thinking . . ." "What, Benny?" "Is it wrong to be glad . . . to be glad that I'm . . . that we're finally free of her?" "I don't think so Benny. Can I . . . ask you something Benny?" "Of course Ray." "Would you . . . if you had to do it again . . . I saw the indecision in your eyes. It was there for a fleeting second . . . if you had to decide again . . ." "I would do it again, Ray. I will always choose you. I will choose your life before anyone else's life, including my own." "Thank you Benny." "Don't thank me Ray. It's a simple matter of survival. My life means nothing without you in it." "Thanks anyway Benny." "You're welcome kindly Ray." THE END 1996 by Michelle Sinclair