The Morning After
by Bluesky

Ben was not truly asleep. He felt the heat hovering over him, Soft breath, the hint of mouthwash and toothpaste. He could feel eyes on him, boring into him. The slight shift of the sofa, suggesting that whoever it was hovering over him was braced on the back of the couch, He had the distinct feeling that he was about to be kissed.

Kissed into wakefulness. A kiss like sleeping beauty. Awaking the prince with a kiss. Oh my. The likely hood that it was Ray was slight. Ben caught a whiff of perfume. Oh dear. He did what any other gentleman would do. He rolled over, feigning sleep.

At last he felt the presence leave, slowly, receding, the sigh of the wolf, who liked Francine, as she petted Definbaker, and lured him into the kitchen with the promise of sausage and eggs. She spoiled that wolf.

He allowed him self to drift back into sleep.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Shaking him not so gently, but intimately. "Time to get up. Mom is cooking up a storm, and it is your duty to help eat. Have to up hold the pride of the RCMP right? She even got Canadian ham just for you. And Real Maple syrup. Up and at it Bennie. A good natured swat on his still tender ass and Ray was gone. Ben smiled to himself. Things were going to be ok.

Breakfast was the usual made house that any meal was in the Vecchio household. Every one tried to feed him, shoving more food on his plate than 3 Mounties could eat. Lucky that Diefenbaker was so helpful. Francesca was heating up maple syrup, and drizzling it over his pancakes, and him, then attempting to clean him up. It was almost embarrassing, but amusing. Ray watched, tolerant, amused, glowing in the odd I am in the bosom of my family way. Squabbling over every thing from using the car to shampoo, and who would do what were... and all of them clamoring for his attention. It was distraction, and Ray just smiled, and watched. It was as though the administration that his folk laid on him was an extension of himself.

Coddled, stuffed, fussed over, and laden with odds and ends of left overs, and treats for Diefenbaker, at last some time just before the clan would have had a excuse for feeding him once more, Ray rescued the overwhelmed Mounties from the clutches of domesticity. Diefenbaker gave a sad backward look, but joined the two in the Riviera. He was content with the sent of the bundles that were burdening Ben and Ray that the bounty was not at an end yet.

The trip to his apartment was quiet. A few comments on the Thanksgiving meal past, cultural exchanges of celebrations of the Inuit and American and Thanksgiving and ...

Not a word about last night. Ben looked at Ray from the corner of his eye, and then strait on. Perceptive as always, he followed his lead. Ray seemed relaxed. More than usually. Not angry, or frustrated, or on a short fuse, Calm. Happy. Not like him. Agitation was as much a part of his make up as the air that he breath, the car that he owned, and suites that he wore.

Sometime to talk about a thing is to destroy it. To acknowledge a state of existence is to dismantle it. Dissecting the events of last night would kill what was as surely as water on a flame.

But this was the Mountie. On the trail of something he never gave up.

"Ray?"

"Ya, Ben?"

"About last night..."

"Never happened."

"Understood."

"See you tomorrow Fraser. Pick you up at the conciliate."

"Thank you kindly Ray."

END