Nearer the Edge
by Pita Patter

I should have known it.

Eventually, I would get attracted to him. I think it started when I swore at him, and he got all worked up. I called him "gringo baboso". He did not know what it means and he thought it was some kind of namecalling. He was right. Well, sometimes he can be very much like that, all loud and annoying. And he does get so sexy when he is. Of course I would find it sexy. I am a Mexican girl, after all. Cultural stereotype or not, my blood is as hot, as spicy and as Latin as his.

After that, we got to be all alone in a dark filing room. He caught me red-handed, started to play American cop with me and looked all smug when I paid no attention to that. All that time, I did not realise, but I was falling for him. I figured he was also getting a little interested himself. My little gringo baboso...

The pièce de resistence came when he saved my life. I agreed that it was not the most romantic situation. I had my foot over a home made landmine, he was whining a lot. He had a small cap on his head, and it struck me as sexy, close-fitting to his head, but gentle like a caress. I took a good look at him as he crouched down on the snow, looking at the bomb, complaining and sometimes flapping his arms the way he does.

I don't know why I told him about my childhood in the slums, and why I decided to become a cop. Of course I was afraid to die, and I knew that if I died, he would know at least that much more about me. I guess I also wanted to be part of that oily machine he had told his boss before. I wanted to be a part of what he had with his Canadian friend.

My gringo made quite an impact on me the first time I saw him at the gala reception for the Nafta delegates. He was so handsome, with that well-tailored suit and his green eyes sparkling bright. I tried to contain my blushing smile when he complimented my looks. Then the Canadian showed up disguised as a waiter and then... Well, then it was time for a showdown.

That was when it happened.

As the tragic events unfolded, I realised I wanted more from Ray Vecchio than just a brief professional experience of co-operation during a Nafta summit conference. It could be only one night, but I wanted that night. I also decided I would let him know that.

After he cracked that mini-van joke on me, I staged a mock verbal fight, as we walked towards the mansion's exit. Then he turned and glanced at his Canadian friend, who was talking to his boss. That detestable woman was handing her subordinate some car keys, and the Mountie immediately took off to bring the vehicle.

I looked at Ray and saw so much more than I wanted to see. His face was transformed. It was the face of a man who no longer held control over his heart, a heart that was breaking apart at that precise moment.

All my sandcastles melted instantly. I could not make a move on that man. He was in deep pain, and he would not accept comfort from a stranger like me. Somehow I sensed his struggle not to make it show, and I thought how much did it hurt him to see another man taking his woman away from him.

Even so, I got closer to him, acting as if I had never seen any of this. Now I think it was a way to honour his wishes and to respect his feelings. "Are you staying, Vecchio?"

He seemed to have returned back to Earth in that instant, and quickly his face was all professional again. "No. No, I am going. Hey, do you need a ride back to town?"

"No, thanks. I was about to offer you one, though".

"I am cool. Thanks."

"No problem. It was good working with you", I confessed.

He smiled, and even though he was sad inside, it hit me like a million volts. "Likewise, Anita."

"And, uh, thanks again for saving my life this afternoon. I... appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

I blew him a kiss, he smiled again, and I went back to join the Mexican delegation. But I was so intrigued.

How could such a passionate and hot man be in love with such a cold, barely civilised woman like that Canadian inspector? What did he see in her? Well, she was an attractive woman, I suppose. Maybe he wanted the challenge, and planned to break that ice front. I could understand that.

Still he clearly loved her from a distance. Why was that? Ray Vecchio was a man that radiated his sensuality in every little move and look he cast, consciously or not. It was not something he was shy about. But he clearly hid his feelings from that woman.

Could it be because of his Canadian friend, the Mountie? He might be afraid to endanger his friend's position or their friendship, if something went wrong with the woman. Or maybe the Mountie wanted the woman to himself, and, out of friendship, Ray had painfully given her up. He was a friend good enough for that. I wonder if the Canadian is worth it. The Mountie was such a complex guy, but still everybody could see those two were pretty tight.

Tight indeed.

My mind came up with a few facts. Then my heart almost stopped.

Vecchio had suggested they two should be the ones who took care of the conference, because they worked together so well. I heard someone saying Vecchio had shot Fraser before. Vecchio tried to leave me out when they went to the woods. Vecchio offered to leave the assignment when those secret services assholes banned Fraser from the job and replaced him with someone younger. Vecchio almost tackled LaCroix down when he took Fraser as hostage. His eyes on LaCroix were the eyes of someone willing to hunt him down to ends of the Earth.

That led to only one conclusion.

When he saw them two leaving together, Vecchio's heart was broken. But not because his friend was taking away the woman he loved, but because that abhorrent woman was taking away the person he loved with all his heart. He was in love with the Mountie. And he would not say a word about it because he valued the friendship.

Caracoles. I should have seen it.

Maybe I better leave it that way. They have so many things to work out without me getting in the way. They are good men, and they deserve to be happy. Anita, forget about that sensuous Italian. Go home, chica. Who knows? Maybe there is a hot Mexican guapo waiting for you, eh?

*Part Two: I've never lost a partner*

I never thought it could hurt so much.

And I feel a heel about it.

Why cannot I be happy for my friend? He is out with a beautiful, intelligent and sophisticated lady.

Ah, Benny, why did you pick up this night to make your move on the Dragon Lady? Off all nights, why this one? This was the night I was supposed to tell you I love you. This was the night I let all my hesitations go. This was the night I saw you on the hands of that LaCroix guy. He had a gun to your head, Benny. I swear my heart stopped when I saw that.

All this assignment was pretty scary to me. First, at that simulation, I shot Benny. Again. Stupid rookie mistake. Benny insisted everything was his fault. I did not understand it at all. I am sure he was fighting some inner demons of his own. But I felt all mushy about it, as if he wanted to take some load off my back. I am such a dork when it comes to Benny.

Then there was that Mexican girl all over me. She may think she was discreet, but I know a lady when she wants action. Frannie can be very educational in that aspect. I see how my sister gets every time she is near Benny. She and most of the women who get near Benny.

Hey, it's not that I didn't appreciate the little Mexican's attention towards me. I even played along with Anita a little. After all, she was a feisty little one. I like the type. I helped her get out of that landmine, and she was very thankful after that. At some point, if she proposed me something more intimate, I might even have agreed.

But that was before LaCroix made his move. When he took Benny hostage, I flipped. I swear I have never had this kind of late reaction. My gun never wavered as he tried to drag Benny out of the ballroom. Benny was being Benny, saying some Inuit story or some quotation out of his father's journals. I could have shot Benny again right there. My heart was barely giving me blood to stand up, and he was saying things that did not make sense at all!

Suddenly, Benny moved quickly and disarmed the big guy. I don't remember moving so fast, but somehow I was the first by his side. He was unharmed, and only then I began to shake all over. Anita was beside me, and she stayed with me until the terrorist was secured and taken away.

As the criminal was being "processed" to jail, I took the time to put things in perspective. One of the things I realised was that if anything happened to Benny, he might die without ever knowing how I feel about him. It was not fair. It was not right. The fear I had of losing his friendship somehow had been conquered. In a way, we would never be apart, and it was imperative that he knew my feelings.

Reaching that conclusion and taking that decision took a serious weight from my shoulders. I even cracked a joke with Anita as I waited for Benny to come out of the room. Yes, she is a nice girl. Maybe, in other circumstances... who knows what might have happened between us?

Then I saw them together.

**

Benny took the car keys the Dragon Lady was offering him and they left. It was clear that they were not going to compare notes from the case.

My world fell apart and on the floor with great reverberation. I shut down the world and froze into that scene. I felt crushed to a small pea, unable to utter a sound. God, I could not remember feeling so much pain so suddenly. It was such a sense of loss. I don't know how I could contain myself and not break in tears right there.

Anita brought my attention back to the present. It was a good thing, too, or I could have seriously embarrassed myself without even realising. So I was genuinely thankful for her, but strangely she did not come up with the proposition I had imagined. She smiled nicely, I smiled back at her and she left. Blessed her soul, she left me with my broken heart.

I kept staring at the hall from which they disappeared for some time. I did not know what to do or where to go.

Everything seemed totally wrong now, everything useless, nothing made sense.

Suddenly, there was someone by my side. I stared at the smiling old lady, and apologised. "I am sorry, Ma'am. Did you talk to me?"

"Yes." She laughed quietly. "I know this look, young man. It is the look of a man in love. I saw the couple leaving."

I blushed. Damn, only Benny was supposed to blush. There was no way I could deny it to that smart old lady with some sort of an accent. "I did not know it was that obvious."

"Oh, you were not obvious. I guess that young woman did not realise anything. But I knew where to look, and what to look. Your loved one is away with another, right?"

I nodded and felt my throat constrict at the pain of those words being spoken aloud.

The lady went on. "He is a very handsome man. She is also a young and attractive woman. They seem to form a nice couple."

I looked at her, and saw the nametag. Camdessus. I remembered spelling that name to Benny as he was issuing the invitations.

She never flinched from my stare, and whispered in a conspiratorial way, "Frankly, I was never one for conventional nice couples. Why don't you let your feeling be known?"

"It would hurt a friend", I stick to the old cliché.

She waved a hand in a dismissing tone. "Friends understand, mon chou. And they also forgive, if this is the case. You are smart, and young. Don't let yourself grow bitter at such tender age. Fight for what you want".

My eyes grew wide at the lady, and she smiled again, the nice gown fluttering at the edge of her round features. "If you really want it, that is."

I could not answer her back. An elderly gentleman in full tuxedo carrying a fur coat came up to us. He turned to the woman. "Emille, cherie. Shall we go now?"

Mme. Camdessus turned around as her husband helped her into the expensive-looking coat. "Oh, Jacques. I stopped to thank this police officer for the wonderful job he did at protecting us during the banquet. Wasn't that a marvellous job?"

Jacques Camdessus turned to me and offered his hand, "Yes, young man, thank you. Your quick action prevented a tragedy tonight."

I took the hand. "We had considerable help from our friends from Mexico and Canada, sir."

"A nice, tight and deep relationship among close people", nodded Camdessus. "I like to think we have a future together. Don't you?"

I took his words to a whole different meaning, but smiled at him. "I'd like to think that way as well, sir."

I helped the Camdessus couple get to their car, and then it was my turn to go to the Riv. All this time I was thinking about what Mme. Camdessus said. Damn, I think the old lady knew all along that I was after Benny. I had to laugh.

But the laughter died away when I realised that maybe Benny wanted the Dragon Lady. If that was the case, then all my hopes were really gone. I would never get in the way of Benny and his true love. If the Dragon Lady were it, then I would have to get along with her. Benny would expect me to do it, and I would never let Benny down. I had told Anita a few hours ago that I had never lost a partner. Benny would surely not be the first one.

Sure, it would get me miserable for the rest of my life. It would mean never getting my feelings be known. In a way, that was what I was doing that whole time, wasn't it? I could see now, the years ahead in my life. Benny and the Dragon Lady would have a whole bunch of little Mounties, all with dark hair and big blue eyes. They would call me Uncle Ray, and I would be the little girl's sweetheart every Valentine's. I would be there for Sunday dinners. Maybe at Christmas I could get to Canada and stay with them for a while if they moved back there. And they would never know how unhappy and lonely I really was on the inside.

But at least Benny would be happy. There is nothing I want more than to Benny to be happy. And it will have to be enough for me. If that is what Benny's heart wants, I will do anything to see that he gets it.

*Part Three: He could be you match*

I am not sure of what I am doing.

This whole situation has been so upsetting. Since the beginning, there was some sort of competition running on. Many times I felt myself being left behind, ageing faster than chronological time. The nightmares I had about my capabilities reveal fears not supposed to surface in years to come. Dad was not being helpful at all.

All the time I was aware of his eyes on me. We confronted at least once. I stood my ground, he gave me advanced warning of his plans. Very fair. This is his game, and he played it with fairness and nobility, I suppose.

Yet I was unable to focus. I told him that sometimes I am a good tracker. But I am only good when I am not thinking about Ray or the way that he makes me feel. When I saw Ms. Cortez flirting with him, and his inborn sensuality instinctively responding to her, I lost my edge.

I miscalculated several times. Rookie mistakes. I could see Ray trying to make it better every time. But nothing was accomplished, and they didn't believe me due to the series of miscalculations. I may not have believed it myself.

There was the last serious miscalculation. I allowed myself to be taken hostage. As the man I now know is called LaCroix whirled me around the banquet room, I looked at my options. The whole security detachment had guns on us. I saw the concern in Ms. Cortez. Ray was cool and professional, and in that moment I took great pride that he is my partner and my best friend. But if I could wish...

I guess I have always known Ray would be my ruin, but not like this. I told La Croix that if you know who you are you don't need to hide. Why don't I listen to the things I say? I am bordering total lack of functionality. All because of Ray.

Ms. Cortez was flirting with him, and he was returning her attentions and advances. Not that it was blatant. But it was enough to induce a reaction from me. I was rendered unable to perform, reduced to a babbling idiot in my own dreams by 12-year old kids. I lost my edge.

For a long time now, I have been ensconcing my feelings towards Ray on the assumption that they are unrequited, unappreciated and unsought. His flirtation with Ms. Cortez, although of her initiative and in my opinion inconsequential, reinforces in me the belief that Ray is tenaciously heterosexual and would promptly repudiate any proposal I could come up to him.

I really tend to get verbose about this subject. It is the topic I cannot address, the issue I won't face.

As I was able to finally overpower and disarm LaCroix, I saw Ray's concern over me. He asked me if I was okay. I said yes, he seemed relieved. Maybe we could go to a cup of coffee together. I would appreciate his company, as this stressful episode was over. I needed him. I needed his presence by my side, to assure me I still had my edge. And maybe - just maybe - I could introduce the unspeakable subject.

I handed LaCroix over to the FBI agents, and located Ray, who was near Ms. Cortez. Then Inspector Thatcher caught up with me. As I politely answered her questions, I saw Ray and the young Mexican lady laughing together, joking, maybe. That scene made me realise I had no business in taking Ray away from the perspective of a relationship he might want to pursue. He seemed to be charmed by Ms. Cortez. His whole body exhuded life and light. He looked so beautiful.

What right did my offensive feelings and I have to interfere with such a captivating view?

But there was always a chance that Ray might not be wrong in pursuing the man-woman venue. It did not work to me once, and thanks to Ray I could get out of it in one piece - or almost. I can never thank him enough for it. But that one failure may not mean I am lost to conventional love.

So I asked Inspector Thatcher out for coffee. Actually, I blurted it out. She said yes. Unarticulated as usual, but she accepted the invitation.

I took her to a place Ray had shown me before. Ray loved that place. Ray never left my mind the whole time I spent there with the Inspector. I sensed some unclear attraction between my superior officer and I. There were blurry and vague feelings we have never cared to endeavour.

Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was the chance to end all those lonely nights, sickening longing, or the overwhelming effort not to show any feelings towards my best friend. This could be the way out to a future of loneliness and heartache that would get me to an early grave.

I know Ray can kill me. Not directly, of course. But sad as I am, I will get myself killed for sure. I would not mind that at all, since living without Ray was sheer hell. But this could endanger Ray was well, and that I could not admit. Maybe Margaret Thatcher can be the remedy to my Ray illness.

Unfortunately, however, that was not the night for that at all. I could not concentrate on the woman across the table. All I could think about was Ray. His green eyes were zeroed on me as La Croix moved around, and I dared to think that there might be something more between us, making all my dreams come true...

That night I could not sleep. I don't know what I am doing.

So I take the Inspector for a cup of coffee, expecting a lot less and hoping for a lot more. Or it could be vice-versa. I really have no idea of what I am doing.

The End