xxx

Bitter Anniversary

One year later check dates?

He awoke and stared at the empty stretch of bed beside him. The bedspread was still tucked up, the pillow still in place. Last night, as he had the whole week before, he'd opened only one side of the bed and crept into it. He had grown so use to Benny's warm body sleeping next to him, that he found it impossible to sleep without him and now his whole body ached, the muscles cramped and tense.

With a sigh, he pushed the covers back and stood up. The floor was cold. In the gray light before dawn, he could see the ice along the edges of the windowpane. It was unusual for late March, almost spring. His eyes focused toward the North. Toward Canada and toward Benny. He would be home no later than tomorrow if the weather held.

A gentle smile softened his features as he thought of Benny and his early Anniversary present. A dinner prepared by his lover's own two hands. Ma had given Benny a recipe box full of his favorite foods, none of them stew, and Benny had outdone himself. He refused help with the clean up and broke one of his own rules by piling everything he could into the sink and running water over it all. Then he joined Ray on the recently purchased couch. The last item they had needed to refurnish the small apartment that Benny had refused to give up. He's such a sentimental sap, Ray thought with a grin.

*****

Getting to the airport was tough. Four-wheel drive made a difference and as always, he took it nice and slow, but was glad when he finally pulled into the small airports parking lot. Plus it helped that there'd been hardly any vehicles on the road. Most people had the good sense to stay home but he wasn't home. He was in Canada on business and was in a hurry to get home. Home to Chicago and to Ray.

He'd heard on the jeep radio that the low pressure disturbance across Siberia would usher in another storm, but today, now, it was clear.

He had a half hour or so before his flight. Resigned, he had sat down to patiently wait but grabbed his jacket and pack and headed out the door as soon as the pilot told him they would be leaving. The other passenger had decided to wait a few days before trying to make it home. The pilot assured him that they would beat the storm by a good half day, otherwise he would have canceled it. Once he was settled on board, he couldn't relax. He sighed and glanced out the window as they took off. At eighteen thousand feet, he normally would have had a great view but clouds appeared to be moving in. Fraser frowned. It probably didn't mean anything but he'd expected completely clear weather. The front over Siberia must be moving faster than predicted, he thought.

He checked his watch. He was about two hours from his connecting flight. From there, another three hours and he'd be home.

*****

Ray let his mind wander back to Benny and the new couch. They had effectively broken it in.

Dishes soaking, Benny had joined him on the couch. The look on Benny's face convinced him that this was no slow gathering of desire, no leisurely awakening of the body. Benny's look was hard, immediate and demanding. Benny had attacked him mouth before his body had touched him. He'd drawn a ragged breath and was distantly aware that his heart was pounding. Lips had grazed his throat then latched on with a vengeance. If he hadn't already been seated, he would have melted to the floor. He'd moaned and twined his arms around Benny, pulling him partially on top.

Ray moaned low as he remembered and had to lean against the wall for a moment before he finished buttoning his shirt. Benny always had this effect on him.

*****

The pilot cursing under his breath brought him from his thoughts of Ray and the added gift that he carried in his pocket. The feel of the plane had changed. It wasn't all that much and plenty of people would never have noticed it. But his senses were tuned to the machine and he felt the change. There was a certain heaviness, a hesitation that hadn't been there before. A glance out the window confirmed that the plane was icing up. A thin coating of ice was forming on the wing.

His attention came back to the pilot who took a firmer hold on the controls. Fraser knew the standard procedure would be to descent several thousand feet into warmer air. As if the pilot had read his thoughts, he tipped the nose down gently while keeping an eye on the altitude gauge. Fraser watched the gauge and at thirteen thousand feet, the pilot leveled off. Fraser nodded to himself, that should do it.

A small tremor went through the plane, so slight he thought for a moment that he'd imagined it. He looked out the window. With the clouds so thick, it was hard to see but it seemed the ice on the wings was building instead of melting. The entire plane shuddered.

The pilot edged the nose again and continued his descent. At nine thousand feet, he leveled off and waited. The pilot turned to him and said there was nothing to worry about. They weren't to the point where terrain could become an issue.

Fraser nodded, thinking, that's pilot talk for mountains. He really didn't want to pop out of a cloud all of a sudden and find they were about to fly into the side of a mountain.

The mountains always won.

The plane shuddered again. The pilot cursed and tried to see out the window. The ice wasn't melting. If anything, it appeared to be getting worse.

It hit all at once. The Siberian front was moving in so fast that the wedge under the existing front, creating a temperature inversion. In other words, by seeking warmer air, the pilot had flown into colder air instead. Now they were in trouble. The pilot fished out his terrain maps and took a quick glance at it but had little time to do anything about it.

*****

Ray fixed a sandwich. He wasn't really hungry but it was lunch time. He sat at the table staring at it. He felt an odd prickling at the back of his neck. He shook slightly and pushed away from the plate as if it were the cause of his unease.

*****

The pilot grabbed the radio, "Randall Tower, Randall Tower, this is Aleut one two niner. Come in."

Nothing.

The pilot edged the nose down. The engines started to whine. Fraser could see the altitude gauge ticking off the numbers -- down one thousand, one-three, one-five, one-eight. The shuddering got louder. The plane was jerking.

The pilot flicked the radio again, "Randall Tower, Randall Tower, come in. This is Aleut one two niner, declaring an emergency. Repeat Aleut one two niner declaring an emergency."

Instantly a voice came back, "Aleut one two niner, this is Randall Tower. What's the problem?"

"Ice on the wings building fast. I'm down to six thousand feet and falling. Heading . . . " He rattle off the numbers, watching the gauges all the while.

"Roger, Aleut one two niner, we comp. Nearest airfield is forty five minutes on your course."

The entire plane spasmed. Fraser'd never felt anything like it in his life.

"Roger Randall Tower, doesn't look like an option. I'm coming down now."

"Understood, Aleut one two niner." Behind the calm voice of the controller, Fraser could just catch the murmur of other voices. The moment the pilot had declared an emergency, every one in the tower would be watching and hoping.

"Confirm course heading, Aleut one two niner," a new voice said.

Fraser knew it would be the senior controller on duty. He knew the controller was already starting the procedure for locating a downed plane.

The pilot rattled off the numbers again as Fraser once again looked out the window. They were over rugged terrain.

He knew the chances of finding somewhere to put down was nil. He knew they were looking at a crash landing at best.

He checked his belt then grabbed his pack and placed it in his lap before molding his upper body around it. If he died, he knew he'd only have one regret. The pain that would be forced upon Ray.

"Randall Tower, Aleut one two niner, going down." The pilot sounded calm, "This is it!" he hollered back at Fraser.

A burst of static came back. ". . .Aleut . . . niner . . . comp . . . air rescue . . . luck . . ."

The plane convulsed again. A high, shrill ripping sound filled the cockpit. The ground rushed up to meet him.

*****

The odd prickling sensation that had plagued Ray for the past half hour seen determined not to go away. He looked down at the wolf. "Want to go for a run?" The wolf just whined at him before heading for his lambskin doggy rug. "You are sooooo spoiled," he started but was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

*****

"Ray?"

The voice sent a chill through him. The Dragon Lady had always held him in contempt and now she was calling him Ray. There was something definitely wrong.

He sat down on the couch, his hand tight around the phone. "What is it?" he asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.

She was silent for a moment. He could hear her take a deep breath.

"Fraser's down. I wish there was a better way to say it but that's just how it is. The good part is that the pilot was in touch with the tower and they got his heading. As soon as the weather clears even a little --"

"Down!?!" He was having a hard time with what she was saying. "Are you telling me his plane crashed!?!" He heard his own words as though from a great distance. He couldn't breathe. Images of the time he and Fraser had crashed crushed in on him.

"They don't know that. There's a chance that the pilot had some control left during the -- the descent."

"He didn't crash?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. The tower lost contact with them at the end and --"

It finally hit him. The wall opposite him seemed to be flying away from him at an enormous speed. "Oh, God."

"-- sending a car for you --"

Ray hung up but couldn't get up. If he did, he'd shatter. He put his arms around himself and pressed hard, trying to hold himself together.

It hurt. It hurt so much. He rocked forward, moaning. Images of Benny darted through his mind. Benny couldn't die. He absolutely couldn't. He wasn't dead. He was alive. He had to be. But what if he wasn't . . . A sob broke from him. He rocked forward again, trying to hold himself together and finding it harder by the second.

*****

Consciousness returned slowly. He was aware of the smells that triggered a sense of danger. Fuel. Heavy, ominous smell of spilled fuel, signaling that fire might not be far off.

He stirred and felt something holding him down. Real fear swept through him. To be trapped in a fire -- his hands fumbled, touched metal. He found and undid the seat belt. He heard it click but more than that, he heard wind. Or was it his own breathing? He opened his eyes, shut them again at the stabbing pain that went through his head. Then he felt pain everywhere.

Everywhere. There wasn't an inch of him that didn't throb. Pain threatened to swallow him. He fought against it. If he gave in . . .They'd crashed. The pilot had bailed out and Ray and he -- no. Ray was safe in Chicago.

He opened his eyes again. The fog in his mind was beginning to clear. He wasn't with Ray. Ray couldn't get away from work and he had gone alone. A stab of guilt cut through the pain. He had missed their anniversary. They'd celebrated early, but it wasn't the same.

They'd been flying south, toward home when the plane had iced over. The pilot -- Slowly Fraser struggled to sit up. There was fragments of the plane around him. The roof of the plane was intact but the wall on one side was gone. He could still smell fuel.

He eased himself out of the seat and staggered to the edge of the missing wall. The plane was still upright and he wasn't more than three feet off the ground.

No me, We. He realized he'd forgotten about the pilot. He raised the thin drape that separated the cockpit from him. The area was in worse shape than the passenger area. The roof looked like something had used a giant can opener to peel it back. The pilot was not where to be seen.

He inched his way through the cabin and located the survival gear that was latched to the remaining wall. In spite of the cold, sweat was dripping into his eyes and he was half blind with pain, but he got the pack unhooked and without stopping to think about it, crawled to the edge, let go and dropped the short distance into the snow.

He got ten yards before his strength gave out. The buzzing in his ears was becoming a roar. "Getting soft," he laughed. He turned his face to the sky and shut his eyes for a moment. Snow fell softly. He felt it on his mouth like the gentlest kiss. Much like the last kiss Ray had bestowed on him before he left.

*****

The car would arrive within the next few minutes. He didn't have time for the self pity he was feeling. He grabbed a suit case from the closet and threw in what he needed while phoning his family. they had a right to know what was happening. He assured them he'd keep them up to date on any developments. Developments, he thought. I'll call 'em one way or the other. Good news or bad.

*****

He unrolled the tissue thin tent that contained it's own support poles. NASA had come up with all sorts of incredible materials and had put them to incredible uses. One flick of his wrist and the thing sprang open. It was barely big enough for one person. He crawled in, spread one thermal blanket on the floor of the tent and wrapped the other two around himself.

By the time he finished, he was shivering uncontrollably. His hands shook so badly that he couldn't close his fingers around anything else in the pack. He needed to get the radio and get out a signal to tell them he was alive.

Blackness swam before his eyes. He had a moment to wonder what the extent of his injuries were. He hurt everywhere, his head hurt the worse. Was he feeling the effects of a concussion? He tried to raise a hand to his head but the effort was beyond him. He slumped down on the floor, struggled to get up, failed and was finally still.

The wind whistled around him. The snow thickened. The sun ended it's day. Night fell.

*****

It's getting dark." Ray said to no one in particular. Benny would be cold. Colder now that the sun was down. He scanned the area knowing he was too far to actually see where the plane He hoped some sixth sense would point him in the right direction. He felt helpless. Not sure what he could do to help.

It took all his control not to hug himself. He wanted to appear calmer than he felt so he thought back to his present from Benny. Benny's mouth covered his again before it followed Benny's hands. The hot tongue circled his nipple before sucking it slowly and strongly. The rhythm of his caress echoed deep in him. He had twisted against Benny, clasping his hair between his fingers and had moaned softly.

Benny had raised his head. A dark stain flushed his cheeks. How easily it had been for Benny to lift him. Powerful arms circled him, pulling him tight against --

A cup of coffee was pressed into his hands but he was shaking too hard to hold it. He raised his head. In the reflection of the tower window he could see himself. He thought how incomplete he looked without Benny standing beside him. As he watched, tears slipped from his eyes and slid soundlessly down his face, into the darkness.

*****

Fraser groaned in his sleep. Something was wrong. He couldn't seem to wake up. He had to fight his way to conciseness. Something was wrong, he was cold. So cold. The pilot light must have gone out on the furnace. He needed to warm the apartment before Ray woke. He struggle to get up but couldn't. He rolled over and reached for Ray instead. Where's the bed? Am I on the floor?

His eyes shot open. He was instantly and painfully awake.

Slowly he sat up. He was wrapped in the survival blankets, inside a tent. His own body heat combined with the insulating fabric had kept the temperature around sixty and had kept him alive so far.

He knew it would be colder outside. The wind was howling. He lifted one edge of the tent flap slightly, all he could see was white. He had no idea how deep it was around him, but knew it would effectively camouflage the wreckage.

Even if the rescuers did have the correct coordinates, they'd still have a hard time locating him. He grabbed the radio from the survival pack, flicked the power switch and nothing happened. Batteries he thought and rummaged for the spares he knew would be in the pack. After pulling out the old and putting in the new, still nothing. He put it up to his ear and shook it lightly. Something rattled.

So he'd fix it. He'd get the case off, take a look, figure out what was wrong and fix it. No problem, just call me MacGyver he thought as he set it aside. In the meantime, there were a few other things he needed to do. Answering natures call was one of them and locating the rations were both high on his list. Water wouldn't be any problem, he thought, melt the snow and drink his fill.

The pain hadn't lessened, not at all. Already he couldn't quite remember what it felt like to not hurt. He completed his business outside the tent as quickly as possible. The rations must have been hooked to the other, missing, wall. A wave of nausea hit him, later. I'll look again later. He hurried back into the tent, bundled up again. That done, he settled back and thought about what to do next. He was still thinking about it when sleep caught him unawares.

*****

Ray raised his head. He'd been drifting for several minutes, his thoughts silenced for the moment. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. For just a moment, he could have sworn Benny was there with him, not doing or saying anything, just there.

When they find him, when he's safe with me, I swear I won't let him out of my sight again. No more plane trips.

He stood and stretched before approaching Shawn Brennan and asked, "What's the plan?"

"Everyone's being briefed," he nodded toward the large table. Printouts and maps occupied the entire table top, "the search patterns are being set and come first light, they'll be right at it."

Ray picked up a printout. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at. The printout was a transcript between the tower and the pilot.

He declared an emergency talked briefly with the tower. It all seemed so calm, Then—

Aleut 129: Roger, Tower, It doesn't look like an option. I'm coming down now.

Tower: Understood Aleut 129.

So calm . . . At the bottom of the page were two final lines of print.

Aleut 119: Randall Tower, Aleut 129 going down (Pause) This is it.

Tower: Roger, Aleut 119, we comp. Air rescue will be notified, good luck.

And a note that radio transmission was breaking up at that point.

*****

It took him twenty minutes to repair the two lead wires. He stuffed a piece of paper over his work to help hold them in place, then closed the radio back up. Cautiously, he switched the radio on. The burst of static that followed was the sweetest music he'd ever heard. It not only put him that much closer to being rescued but also put him closer to seeing Ray again.

*****

Ray counted four small choppers on the runway ready to take off. He could hear the air controller giving the clearance.

He watched as the first chopper took off. It barely lifting off the runway before the next one followed. Finally, all four were airborne.

A burst of static made him turn around. Everyone in the tower turned at the same time.

"Sam?" Shawn asked then waited.

The radioman didn't answer at once. He had the head phones pressed to his ears. His concentration was intense. "I don't know. I thought maybe I heard something."

"Keep listening."

He did for several minutes but finally shook his head.

Ray slumped into a chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't take much more of this inaction.

Benny had rolled over so that Ray was straddling his Mountie. Benny held up a small tube. Surprised and delighted he hadn't hesitated. He took hold of Benny and rubbed a generous coating of lubricant over the throbbing member, then with one hand, he guided him into position.

Immediately Benny thrust hard and deep, claiming him completely. His eyes had closed as he trembled on the edge of ecstasy and struggled not to come. He rose until he was balanced on Benny's smooth, hot tip, then slowly lowered himself onto the full length, inch by enthralling inch.

Benny clenched his fists but didn't touch him. His lover had given him complete control over their lovemaking. He'd caressed Benny's chest, feeling the ragged harshness of his breath. Rising once more, he'd slowly lowered himself again onto the hard, thick length.

*****

Fraser put the radio down slowly. His hand ached from gripping to for so long. He'd been trying for over an hour but didn't know if he'd gotten through or not. He was certain that nothing had come back. Except the pain. This time it was ebbing from his entire body and concentrated on his head. He sank to his back and swore he could feel the familiar weight of Ray against his hips. He closed his eyes briefly and woke an hour later. His hand fumbled for the radio and made contact. Slowly, he hit the transmit button and raised the radio to his mouth. "Randall Tower, Randall Tower, this is Aleut one two niner. Come in, Tower." Please.

Nothing. He tried several more times and was ready to give up when, "tower . .. break . . . recep . . . poor . . . "

Elation roared through him. They had him or at least they would soon. "Randall Tower, this is Aleut one two niner. The plane is down. The pilot missing. I'm injured." Nothing. The static intensified. Long minutes passed before Fraser could accept the fact that he was once more alone. He'd try again later.

*****

"I've got something!" Sam shouted.

Silence reined down. No one moved or breathed. Sam switched the radio to the loud speaker. There was a burst of static then -- ". .. niner . . . pilot . . . injured . . ."

Ray squeezed his eyes tight and let his breath out. Alive. Maybe injured or the pilot injured. Either way, Benny was alive. He turned to the window watching as the sun got lower in the sky.

Shawn stood behind him, "The choppers will be landing in fifteen minutes for refueling, then take off again. By the time they reach the search area, we should have something. Roy knows when to set off his flares, they'll be seen for miles. Night's actually better for that."

"As long as it stays clear."

"Yes. Has the Mountie's family been notified?" Shawn asked cautiously. He still hadn't figured out why the Canadian Consulate had sent a Chicago Officer.

"Yeah. His family knows." Ray answered but didn't elaborate.

Exhaustion finally over powered him and he rested his arms on the table and his head on his arms. His eyes drifted closed on the verge of sleep.

He gazed down at his lovers body. Benny still hadn't touched him. He ran his hands over the smooth chest, rolled tiny peaked nipples between his finger and thumb. Eyes flew open. Unable to stand any more, he reached for Ray, palming the head, rubbing in the leaking juice. He'd stroked, pumping him over and over matching the rhythm he'd set.

Time had slowed making him more aware of every stroke, every move made, every feeling that coursed through him. He'd love this man forever. Benny moaned, shuddering, finally lifting his hips and twisting slightly at the same time. He'd hit Ray's sweet spot and held himself there barely moving. It had bee too much for him, he'd cried out as he released his hot seed onto Benny's stomach. Benny thrust twice more, sighed and softly smiled as he came.

There was a burst of static and then faintly, "Aleut one two niner, this is Randall Tower. Do you comp?"

"Yes!" He almost yelled it into the mike. He lowered his voice slightly. "I comp, Tower."

"We need you to signal. Repeat, you must signal."

For just a moment, tears blurred his vision. Up until now he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge the full weight of solitude he had felt being cut off from home. From Ray. Now it exploded within him, but he pushed it aside for later.

He was cold. He knew hypothermia was less than a heart beat away. He also knew he wouldn't make in through the night. His lungs hurt with every breath. If they didn't come soon, then it would be too late. He dug in the pack, found a pen and pad. He wanted to leave Ray a message, just in case. When he was done, he closed the note book and slipped it in his pocket next to the package. A deep sense of relief filled him. It would be so simple now to sink under and let go. Only thoughts of Ray stopped him. He didn't want a letter to speak for him. He wanted to be able to tell Ray, in person, that he loved him.

He heard an engine.

The cold numbed him. He wanted nothing so much as to close his eyes and sleep but the engine was too loud.

Engine? He thought and from the depths of darkness he climbed just far enough to realize it was a search chopper. He didn't think. He grabbed the survival pack and fumbled with frozen fingers with the flare. From a deep reserve he summoned the last of his strength and shoved the guidance rod into the snow and struck the fuse.

It shot heaven bound, hung for a timeless moment and exploded. Fraser never saw it, he fell face down in the snow and lay unmoving.

*****

"Say again!"

There was a deep silence while Sam listened then turned toward Ray, "Flare sighted. Sam flipped a switch on the mike and sat back, the chopper pilots voice boomed, "I think I see traces of where a plane could have hit. Treetops are sheared off. It looks like a straight shot." Silence. "There! Wreckage sighted, repeat wreckage sighted. We're going in."

The silence continued, no one daring to move or speak.

In the breathless silence, the crack of the radio sounded like a rifle shot. "Randall Tower, we have recovery. Repeat, we found one survivor."

He lay on top of Benny, catching his breath. Unwilling to move away, unwilling to do anything but enjoy the glow of their love and the warmth of the man he worshipped. Benny guided his head in for a kiss taking control once more. Sweet, unhurried, they had forever. There was no need to rush.

Ninety minutes later found Ray standing on the runway. An ambulance and police escort were already in position.

"They're five miles out," Shawn said quietly. He'd finally figured it out. This wasn't just a friend of the Mountie, it ran deeper. "You okay?" It sounded inadequate. If he'd known before, he would have treated this whole matter a little differently. The office deserved more comfort than he had received.

"I'll be better when I see him. When I can . . . I'm fine." He turned to Shawn and said simply, "Thank you."

A flicker of light shone through the thick clouds. It vanished, reappeared and grew stronger. A small chopper suddenly emerged seeming to hurtle toward the runway.

Ray held his breath. The aircraft hovered an instant then touched ground only to bounce right off. An instant later, it came down again and this time stayed.

The other choppers in the rescue squad would not be returning yet. Now that they had the location, they would continue to search the area for the missing pilot.

He saw the grim face of the man hovering at the open door. The medics ran forward. Ray followed much more slowly, suddenly afraid to see Benny. As the medics passed him he became swept up in the parade.

"Temp's one-o-four, breathing rapid and erratic, lungs bad. We've had him on oxygen all the way. BP low and falling. Suspected head injury. I'd say he's concussed but we can't tell for sure. The medics were nodding. They'd been in radio contact and knew most of this, but the update was important. It was accomplished in the minute or so it took to hand off the stretcher.

"Conscious at all?" One of the medics asked.

The rescuer shook his head, "He was trying to say something at one point but all I could make out was 'ray.' I couldn't catch the rest."

Ray stared at the still figure lying on the stretcher. His head was in a brace, his face almost completely covered by the oxygen mask and the rest of him was beneath the survival blankets. An I.V. snaked under them into his arm. Except for the mane of dark hair stark against the stretcher, he wouldn't have known it was his Benny. His throat clogged. He sucked in air, fighting with all his strength not to cry and followed the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

*****

Someone had handed him a cup of coffee and he sat staring into it, waiting. Slowly he became aware of someone standing in front of him.

"Mr. Vecchio?"

Ray sat the cup aside then stood.

"Mr. Fraser has been moved from emergency to intensive care." He looked at Ray for a moment and thought the man looked exhausted but strong enough to handle what he had to say, "He's in bad shape. Pneumonia in both lungs and a concussion. there are also some problems from exposure and dehydration. Overall, his condition is critical, but he should do just fine."

"When can I see him?"

"Now. He's on some pretty powerful medication and may not even know you're there, but . . . " he waved toward the door. "You're welcome to sit with him."

Ray looked down at the prone figure, afraid to touch him. Benny's face was sheet white under the mask. He bent closer, his lips brushing Benny's cheek, "Hi," he said softly. "Don't quit on me now, Benny. I won't live if you don't. Stay with me."

*****

He knew he'd been out again. What if he missed the choppers? They were coming, he'd heard them. Damn it, why couldn't he move? Panic coursed through him, speeding his breathing. He couldn't move, couldn't seem to get his eyes open. He had no strength left. Absolutely none.

He wondered if this was death. Was this all thee was to it? Death should be better, he thought. He could feel something in his right hand, something warm, the feel familiar. He squeezed with all his strength.

Then he heard it. Ray's voice telling him to stay. Telling him how much he loved him. With an overwhelming need to be with Ray, he followed his voice up from the darkness and came to him.

Slowly Fraser opened his eyes. At first he only saw a blurred mist. Gradually it resolved into the face of the man he loved. "My Ray," he breathed.

Benny tugged his hand, trying to bring him closer. His grasp felt so weak, that Ray began to worry. He leaned his cheek against Benny's. "I love you, Benny."

"I know. I love you too. I brought you a gift."

"I saw the box. And the note." He brushed his lips against Benny's cheek.

"Open it, Ray."

He pulled back, surprised at the request. "Now?"

He was drifting again. Soon, he'd be asleep. "Now," he said, closing his eyes.

Ray took the small box from his pocket and unwrapped it. "Oh, Benny." He pulled out a key-chain. He hadn't known they existed but Benny had found one for him anyway. "Where'd you find this?"

"Didn't," his lips curled. "Had it made. One of a kind."

Ray ran his thumb across it. An exact model replica of his Riv hung from the chain. "Your gift's still in Chicago. I should have brought it with me."

He peered out of slitted eyes, "You did bring it with you, Ray." He chuckled at the look of puzzlement on his lover's face. "What better gift could I have than your love? It sustained me . . . " He knew he was going under again ". . . you always have . . . always will . . ."

Ray stroked his lover's forehead and whispered, "Happy Anniversary, my love." Then kissed him good night.

end.