Pairing: Benny/Ray V.
Categories: Holiday (Christmas), Romance. Rating:G.
Hi! This is my first fanfic in months, as 2002 has not been a good year for me. Ergo, my writer's enthusiasm kinda went south. This was the first year in my life that I couldn't even get into the Christmas spirit until I forced myself to put up decorations. Then I felt better. Anyway, hope you enjoy this story. Just a little something for the holidays.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, Alliance does, more's the pity.

December 16, 2002

Ray sighed as he trudged through the streets of Chicago. Dirty, brown slush clumped on the slick sidewalks, his boots quickly taking on the same color. The citizens of Chicago hurried with their personal business, heads down and scarves wound around their faces and necks as the wind blew in off Lake Michigan. Ray's own neck sported a dark-blue woolen scarf, a matching skullcap on his head. He shivered within his charcoal-gray coat, holding on to the front of it with thick gloves.

He should be all happy and bouncy. It was the Christmas season, wasn't it? Despite the dreariness of the weather and the unfriendliness of the natives, the downtown stores were decorated in red, green, silver, and gold, and cheery Santas waved and lit up with an inner glow from strategically-placed lightbulbs. Or maybe it was a Salvation Army Santa ringing a bell at a red kettle. Ray had always placed a donation in one until he learned about the Army's blatant homophobia. He donated to other shelters and charities now that didn't uphold discrimination as a good value.

He didn't quite understand why he was feeling so blue this year. What did he have to be unhappy about? He had the sexiest, sweetest, most lovable guy in the world as his mate, was planning to put a down payment on an old Victorian on the outskirts of Chicago, and was in line for a possible promotion at work. Why the sadness in his heart, then?

Maybe it was just the state of the world. It depressed him to think about the violence and unemployment and impending war. And what about Americans' basic civil rights? Was anyone going to have privacy anymore, or was the Government going to cavalierly snoop in everyone's private lives?

He sighed again. It was ridiculous, really, that he was worrying about all this stuff. Why couldn't he just concentrate on Benny?

He stopped outside a ritzy department store that had probably opened around 1830. The old building was tastefully decorated with silver and gold garland, and shoppers were treated to clever window scenes of Victorian sleighs and Christmas carolers. No announcements of sales were emblazoned on the walls, but people were going inside at a fairly steady stream. On an impulse, Ray walked through the revolving doors.

Inside was a hushed silence. No loud voices, wild runs for sales tables, announcements over tinny loudspeakers. It was all very restrained, very discreet, very rich. Ray knew that his wallet didn't belong here but he was mildly curious. His muddy boots glided over the polished parquet floor, and he felt guilty about it. Then he shrugged and figured there was no help for it.

He inspected a glass case filled with glittering jewelry. None of the diamonds, rubies, sapphires or emeralds were within his price range, but he enjoyed looking at them.

A coiffed saleswoman suddenly appeared, her smile professional while her eyes quickly looked Ray over. "May I help you, sir?"

"No, thanks. I'm just looking."

The expression that flitted across her face clearly said, I knew it! and she nodded, slipping down to the other end of the counter as a woman in a fur coat and hat tapped a gloved hand on the glass surface.

Ray continued his perusal of the jewelry, gaze settling on a particularly stunning sapphire ring. The color reminded him of Benny's eyes. He smiled, then moved away to start checking out the men's clothes. They were all of the highest quality and he felt like Pavlov's dog: he was salivating at the very sight of the suits neatly arranged on their racks.

He spent some time sifting through the racks, mentally marking the suits he would love to wear. His indulgences were Armani suits and his Riv, and he was trying to calculate how much a new suit would cost after the holidays. He wondered if this swanky store deigned to slash prices in a sale. He certainly couldn't afford anything new during the holidays. His cash and credit cards were going for his family.

Luckily Benny was easy to buy for during this time of the year. He never wanted much. Then again, he might be the most difficult one of all, as he never gave suggestions. He was a simple man with simple tastes.

*Still, he sure would look good in one of these suits. Or wearing that ring.*

He returned to the counter, glad that the saleswoman was busy with another customer. The ring sparkled like Benny's eyes, nestled in black velvet. There was no price. That meant the old saying: if he had to ask, he couldn't afford it.

He sighed, suddenly feeling morose again. It was all perfect in this store: quiet, quality, and attentive salespeople, as long as you had dough. Ray turned away from the jewelry counter, missing the chaos of a discount department store with crazed shoppers and blaring sales. Maybe he should elbow a middle-aged matron away from the last pair of knitted socks on sale before he felt in the Christmas spirit.

He jammed his gloved hands into his coat pockets and braved the icy winds again as he stepped outside.

Dusk was falling fast. Ray contemplated whether or not he should take the Riv out the lakefront and sit by the water, its bleakness matching his spirit.

He passed a small restaurant, smelling fish and steak and all kinds of good things. His stomach rumbled. Wasn't Benny going to make his hunter's stew tonight? The Canadian was getting better at cooking, taking lessons from Ray and his mother and showing real aptitude for it. And the stew didn't contain pemmican or anything else equally gross. He smiled slightly.

He mentally reviewed his Christmas list. Yes, he had bought for the nieces, nephews, sisters, mother, brother-in-law, co-workers...even the wolf!

Of course he had taken care of Benny, but that was a given. He thought about that ring again and wondered if Benny would enjoy one just as much if it came from a crackerjack box.

Of course. What am I thinking? He would!

Ray checked his watch. He really should be getting home. Benny had told him that morning that he would be late, as he had some last-minute Christmas shopping to do, so Ray had wandered around the downtown in his funk.

The wail of an ambulance siren pierced through the twilight. Ray watched its flashing lights as its driver weaved expertly through Chicago traffic. Someone wasn't having a good night.

He passed another red Salvation Army kettle and hesitated. He still felt a little guilty about not dropping in a few coins, then remembered their ironclad policy on not hiring gays and walked right on by, the faux Santa's bell-ringing pealing down the street.

He reached the spot where he had parked the Riv and slid inside after unlocking the door.
Once he had the engine purring, he eased out into traffic, instinct taking over as he palmed the wheel.

The drive to West Racine took awhile in rush hour traffic, but Ray was in no hurry. By the time he reached the street it was deserted, most of its denizens either inside their apartments or holed up in an alley. He parked his baby and locked it after getting out, hunching his shoulders against the wind.

Christmas spirit could be decidedly lacking here, too. If you had no money and were hooking for crack or being abused by a brute of a husband, it was a little hard to get into the season. Yet the poor didn't have a corner on it. His family had never been awash in money but had been pretty comfortable with a nice house, and his drunken lout of a father had ruined plenty of spirit.

Benny had made a difference here, though. The building was painted and the hallways were free of trash, and people had started coming together as a community instead of hiding in suspicion behind their locked doors. Not that Ray had blamed them. If he lived in this neighborhood before the coming of Benny, he'd have done the same thing.

He reached 3J and called, "Hey, Benny, I'm home!" as he opened the door.

He entered a Christmas wonderland: their decorated tree, the homemade Santa figure on the wall made by Ray's niece Theresa, a plastic snowman on the floor by the endtable and glowing as Benny had plugged it in. The delectable aroma of baking cookies filled the apartment.

Benny was smiling at him, wearing his comfortable old white ski sweater and blue jeans.
His dark hair was charmingly arranged in soft waves instead of the regimented style he usually wore to work, and his blue eyes shone with love.

Ray swallowed. How could he be blue with this vision of loveliness in front of him?

He took Benny's hand and walked with him to the couch, receiving a greeting kiss and settling into the couch.

They didn't speak. The lights from the tree twinkled and sparkled over them, Ray delighted with the glass ornaments. He noticed the Canadian-themed wooden set: a maple leaf, a beaver, a moose, and a Mountie. Of course, a Mountie.

All had been handcrafted and given to Benny last Christmas by him. He had contacted Eric in Canada and requested the ornaments, remembering that Benny had told him that quality crafts were a staple of the tribe's economy.

Ray put his head on Benny's shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

Visions of sugarplums danced in his head. Benny in tights...oh, my!

He awoke and discovered Benny setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table. The tree was backlit while Dief dozed underneath the branches. Snow had begun falling outside the window, purifying the ugliness of the city for at least a night. Benny had turned on the television and Ray nearly laughed as he saw the movie starting to play.

It was a wonderful life!*