Archive of Our Own ^beta

I really wish I was making money off this. Man, what a dream job that would be!
Not mine, yadda yadda.

Well, this one took on a life of its own and then held me prisoner until it was finished with me.
Thank you so much to everybody for the fantastic feedback so far. I hope you like this one. Your support has been really encouraging - and helped me grapple this particular monster. Once again, feedback would be very much appreciated.
Part Two will follow shortly.

Post TSbyBS. Second in my suite of three post TSbyBS stories.
Warning: Never assume that because you want it to be a *short* story, that it is going to *be* a short story. These things have lives of their own, and sometimes the best thing you can do is just step aside, ma'am.

Prologue

Soft green and white surrounded Blair, littering the air with tangible scents, blowing an icy breeze through his hair, across his skin and deep into his soul. He'd chosen this place because it was quiet, far enough away from the others to be separate, close enough to scare away the loneliness.

Only it never went away completely, even when he was in the middle of teaching a class, surrounded by kids. In fact, those were the worst times, much more so than the quiet nights in his room on his own. Being surrounded by life only reminded him of the one he'd left behind. The one he could never go back to. The one he missed with an agony that still left him breathless.

The morning was as fresh as it could be, a few mottled clouds drifting among the snow-dusted treetops, suggesting more falls later in the day. He came up here after breakfast and before class, every morning without fail. He pulled on his boots, gloves, mittens and woolen hat knowing that no matter what he wore, he'd still be cold. Though he'd long since stopped hoping, the habit was now formed and instead of keeping an eye on the road, wanting to see the first sign of the truck if it ever came around the corner, he now let his mind wander, glimpsing the past, the pictures that had brought him here, to this place, to this life.

Now though, such wanderings brought him nothing but loneliness because he'd seen the future and knew it might never be his. There was only this solitary wait, sitting on a rock, surrounded by glorious trees, snow and mottled clouds, knowing that the thing he waited for might never happen.

Part One

Eight months earlier...

Jim could see it happening. The quiet, the distance, the increasing silences. He was a sentinel, and knowing Blair as he did, well, it suddenly seemed all too easy to read him. But Jim didn't make any assumptions. After all, that's what had got him into so much trouble before; assuming Blair would sell him out, assuming Blair would not use his name, assuming Blair would keep the manuscript safe from prying eyes and the sticky fingers of mothers.

Blair had taken the bus into the PD, so after the little presentation of the gold badge, and the surprise and the laughter, Jim had let Blair drive them home. For the twenty minutes the trip took, there had been this frail mood between them, filled with inconsequential words. Jim's disquiet grew exponentially.

And there was parking, and walking to the door, and the ride up in the lift, Jim leaning on his cane as he brought forth his keys, Sandburg with his eyes down on a folded newspaper he'd picked up earlier. Jim got the door open and walked inside, depositing his keys in the right place, his jacket in another equally right place, and walked towards the loft stairs, with a mind to changing into comfortable clothes and perhaps a stretch out on the couch.

He stopped with his hand on the railing. Something wasn't right. He turned and found Blair standing in the middle of the room, his fingers lightly reaching out to the edge of the table, as though its texture were something of intense interest. His stance was rigid, still, his gaze locked on his fingers.

'You know,' Blair began softly, but firmly, 'that it's ... I guess what I mean is, I'm ... really touched, you know? That you'd want me to be a cop, that you think I'd be a good enough cop to be ...'

'Hey,' Jim replied, keeping his tone light. 'I thought we'd covered the self-deprecation issue, Chief. It's really not your colour.'

Blair didn't smile and didn't look up. His fingers stopped moving and so did the air in the room. Silence stuck the seconds together, making them solid.

'I can't, Jim. I can't do it. I'm sorry,' Blair whispered eventually - and then he did look up.

Jim could only blink, stare at him knowing it was up to him to say something, to push as hard as he had to - but nothing happened. No words came out, no solution appeared. Instead, he could only stand by, like a mute. He could only watch as Blair's eyes widened in surprise at his silence, his whole body freeze with disbelief that after all they'd been through, Jim could have nothing to say. And then Blair turned, was out the door and gone before Jim could so much as whisper his name.

Fat raindrops slapped on the skylight like Irish tap dancers in the midst of a jig. If Jim listened very carefully, he could almost hear the wail of pipes and the soaring fiddle. There had always been something particularly fine in listening to the music in the weather.

He refreshed his coffee and wandered back to the French doors. It was too dark outside now and there was a nice hard wind blustering and taking the life out of the night. It was the kind of early April evening where they would once have curled up on separate couches, lit the fire and paged through their own bestsellers. One of them would have made snacks, the other would have eaten the lion's share. Then, around eleven or twelve, if the phone hadn't gone calling them out, and if some murderer hadn't tried to break in, they'd have tidied up, done the bathroom thing, set the locks and each gone to his bed in a perfect ballet of peace and tranquility, albeit with Blair chattering on and off, though that too had become part of the comfort.

Jim heard a key turn in the lock, but didn't turn to watch Blair come in. Instead, he just pulled the blinds down, moved to stoke up the fire and pour the other man a coffee, knowing he would need one. Blair emerged from his bedroom with damp hair and a fresh sweater on his square shoulders. He looked tired and washed out, but not drowned as Jim had feared. Once was enough. More than enough.

'So,' Jim said, determined to do this, though exactly what he was supposed to do he had no idea. There was such a feeling of inevitability about it all.

'Yeah,' Blair took his mug and wrapped both hands around it. He gave Jim a little smile, sad around the edges. 'Sorry about earlier.'

'I've had more apologies from you today than ... Look,' Jim held up his hand, 'just hear me out, okay?'

'Sure, Jim. Go ahead.'

Sandburg perched on the corner of the table, one booted foot resting on a chair as though he'd completely forgotten every house rule Jim had ever made.

'Look,' Jim repeated, taking in a deep breath. 'There's no hurry, right? I mean, it's what, another three months before you could attend the Academy anyway. So you don't have to decide now. You can put your paperwork in, but they won't sue you if you don't turn up. At least you'll be giving yourself that option, if that's what you want to do.'

When Blair didn't respond, Jim added, 'Or not.'

Blair nodded slightly, 'That's good advice. I just ...'

'What?'

Blair looked away, towards the windows shuttered against the night. 'I guess I could be a cop before because I didn't have to be. I could always go back and touch base at school. I could deal with it because I had this frame of reference, something that helped it make sense. But if it tried to be a cop all the time? Man, I ... I wouldn't know myself. I wouldn't be myself. And how much help would I be then? I'd only let you down, man. That would kill me - and probably kill you, too.'

Once again, Blair hung his head, shook it a little. 'I know it seems like a good idea and in so many ways it is. But I just can't, Jim. I'm really sorry.'

Jim pulled in a breath, held it a moment against the disappointment and the fear. Then, unable to hope now, he said, 'So where does that leave you?'

Blair slid off the table and straightened up. He brushed his hands down his jeans and looked up. Determination spiked his gaze, along with a small measure of bravado. 'I think I need to get away for a while.'

Jim blinked at words that didn't surprise him at all. He turned around to the sink, to empty and wash his coffee cup. Blair seemed to take that as permission to elaborate.

'I can't get a job here, Jim, you know that. Who's going to employ not only a fraud, but a famous one at that? As long as I'm around, there's going to be people who want to know the real story. How can I have a life when people are in my face all day? One day the Commissioner is going to stop pretending he doesn't have a brain and start asking questions. The longer I hang here, the more trouble you're going to get in -'

'Come on, Chief!' Jim snapped, whirling around to face the younger man. 'This isn't about me! It's about you. About you being driven from your home. I don't get this. You sacrifice everything so that I can have my normal life, but you, you get nothing out of it? Is that it?'

Blair's gaze changed, softened and gentled, blue eyes roving across Jim's features as though mapping them for future reference. 'Yes, Jim. That's what sacrifice means. I won't be gone forever. I'll be back - and you can come see me, we can talk on the phone and email. If you have any trouble with your senses, I can be here in no time.'

'Where ... where are you going?' Jim could hardly get the words out. Every horrible thing he'd feared was about to happen and he was powerless to stop it. There didn't even seem any point in arguing about it. Blair's mind was made up.

'There's a commune in Oregon, about fifty miles west of Medford. My mom goes there once a year. It's really pretty, up in the mountains, surrounded by trees. The commune bought the land in the seventies, and it's still a going concern. I can work there, teaching the kids. It's work I can do, Jim. Work I'll enjoy doing, at least for a while, until things get better here.'

'And what if they don't?'

'Of course they will, Jim. I'm serious, I'm not running out on you. But if I can't be a cop, and I can't get a job here, what else am I going to do?'

'Hell, Blair if it's about money, you don't need to worry about that. You know I make more than enough for the two of us.'

Blair's gaze hardened. 'Is that a proposal, Jim?'

Jim stared at him for a moment, ignoring the iciness in his friend's voice. He took a breath and held up his hands, 'Okay, I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. What I mean is if you do need money, you know I'm happy to lend it to you. Money shouldn't ever be an issue when you're deciding your future, okay?'

Blair softened a little. 'Sure. But, hey, would you want to be borrowing money off me if you could get a decent job somewhere?'

'No, I guess not. I just ... you know, I don't want you to leave.'

'Yeah, well, I'm not exactly jumping for joy at the idea either, but I just don't see another way around it. Not with things as they are.'

Jim came a few steps closer, 'And you do like teaching, I guess.'

'Yeah, I do.'

'And you like kids.'

'Uh huh. And the school doesn't care about the whole defrauding the establishment thing.'

'Well, that's good, I guess. How long?'

Blair looked up. 'How long what?'

'How long will you be gone?'

Blair frowned and raised his hands, 'I don't know. Hey, I'm playing this by ear. This has all just happened. Up until a few days ago, I had my future all mapped out, since I was maybe twelve. Now it's all blown up in my face, you think it's that easy to just flip it all off and find a new direction? I always knew what I wanted to do with my life and now I don't know what I want. To be honest, Jim, I'm feeling a little lost here, okay?'

Yeah, Jim could see that without any trouble at all. It was written all over Blair's distressed face, leaching out into the air. 'Okay, Chief. I'm sorry.'

'You don't need to be sorry, Jim. I know you mean well.'

Jim came close, standing in front of him, making him look up. 'No, I mean I'm sorry.'

Blair met his gaze for long seconds, and Jim could see the thoughts clouding up those eyes, see them clear with understanding. 'Oh. Sorry. Um, thanks, Jim.'

Reaching out, he squeezed Blair's arm, connecting again after so many days of being distant from each other. Blair smiled a little in reply and Jim dropped his hand. He needed to say something, but he had no idea what it was, and no way of finding out soon if Blair was about to leave.

'When will you go?'

'I was thinking tomorrow. I don't need to take much with me. Just clothes and a few books.'

Jim nodded, glancing around the loft. It wasn't that long ago that he'd packed up all Blair's stuff himself, shoving it into boxes, convinced that Blair had somehow become the enemy. 'Hey,' he murmured, 'this commune, it isn't one of those nudist places is it? You'll freeze your ass off in Oregon.'

Blair laughed a little. 'No, Jim, there's only skinny dipping in the lake. Clothes are required everywhere else.'

'Okay.'

'Listen, I better go start packing.'

'Sure.' Jim stood back to let him move. 'How 'bout I order in some pizza and then give you a hand?'

'That'd be nice, Jim. Thanks.' Blair's smile lifted him a little, though he knew it wouldn't last long.

And tomorrow, it would be gone completely. Maybe forever.

Though Blair was only taking a few things with him, he still managed to fill two duffle bags, one suitcase, six boxes and a large basket. Enough to fill the Volvo. Any more and Blair would have been strapping things to the roof. Once his room was clear of the things he was taking, he started cleaning, letting Jim wet-dust the empty bookshelves while he put the rest of his stuff into boxes. That way, he said, they wouldn't be sitting there collecting dust and deteriorating - and Jim could use the room for guests if he needed to. To Jim, it just seemed Blair wanted to be ready to leave completely if he wanted.

The pizza came, was demolished in between packing, washed down by a couple of beers. By midnight, they were exhausted, Jim's leg was giving him hell and they collapsed onto the couch, finishing off a last beer in silence.

Jim picked at the label of his beer and looked around the room already a little barer for the packing. 'This commune, does it have electricity?'

'Of course.'

'And you know, phone lines? Email?'

'It's Oregon, man, not the Sahara.' Blair chuckled. 'It's a few hours' drive away, Jim. You can come visit whenever you like.'

'You want me to visit?' Jim turned and met Blair's gaze, almost afraid he'd see a negative answer in his friend's eyes.

Blair's smile widened. 'Why wouldn't I? You'd love it there. Fresh air, no cities or even towns for miles. The people are great - not tree-huggers or anything that would offend your white-bread sensibilities.'

'Hey, I do not have white-bread sensibilities.'

'Oh? What do you have?'

Jim fought a smile, 'My sensibilities are at least wholegrain.'

Blair laughed. 'Sure they are, Jim.'

Jim shook his head and glanced away. He downed the last of his beer but didn't move for a moment. Then he lifted his chin and said the words out loud. 'I'm going to miss you.'

When Blair didn't say anything, he looked up and found Blair's gaze on him, unmoving, stripped bare for him to see. 'Gonna miss you, too, man.'

Jim nodded again.

'But I will be back, Jim. I know you don't believe that now, but you should really learn to trust me.'

'I do trust you,' Jim replied, keeping his voice even. 'It's the rest of the world I'm not so sure about. I mean, what if you find you really love it there? What if you find ... I don't know, some pretty girl you fall for? What if you look back at your sorry-assed, aging, balding cop ex-partner and think you can't face coming back here in a million years? And that doesn't even account for all the bad guys, mountain lions, bears, bear-traps, smugglers, floods and forest fires that could happen to you. I mean, Chief, with your track record, you never can tell, can you?'

Though he'd kept his tone light, Blair was too well-versed in Jimspeak to miss what he was really saying and his reply spoke to the truth, not to the way Jim had tried to hide it. 'Jim, you're my best friend. So what if you're a sorry-assed, aging, balding cop? You think I haven't worked that out by now?'

'What does that mean?' Jim asked quietly.

'It means that I think we've already seen and been the worst we can be to each other. We survived. We'll keep surviving. You're right, I can't absolutely guarantee that I will be back, neither of us can control fate that well, can we? But I do mean to come back, and it will take bears and bad guys and freak snow falls, flood and famine to keep me away. And, you know, if I do meet a pretty girl, you have to be my best man anyway, so you'd have that to look forward to.'

Jim managed a smile, 'Somehow I just can't see you in a morning suit.'

'Don't think a top hat would go with the long hair?'

Jim said nothing at that, just met Blair's gaze with one of his own. There was nothing else to be said. The air was clear between them. It was good, in fact. After all the shit they'd been through over the last few months, it was ironic that the moment they got back to a good balance, Blair had to leave.

'Well, I better hit the hay. I have high hopes of getting out the city before the traffic hits.' Blair got to his feet and put his beer bottle in the recycle tub. 'Thanks for the help. I'll see you in the morning.'

'Night, Chief.'

Jim waited until Blair went into the bathroom before getting up to lock the doors and windows, putting out the lights. He didn't see Blair make it to his bedroom, but by the time he finished in the bathroom, Blair's light was out. He couldn't stop himself pausing by the bedroom door, just a moment, listening. Despite Blair's words of reassurance, there was this horrible pit of certainty in his stomach that said, hey this is the last time you'll get to do this. He'll never come back, you know that. Go in there now and tell him he can't go.

But Jim did none of that. No matter how sure he was that it was true, Blair had a right to a life, was going out of his way to make sure he had something to fight with. Jim had already destroyed one life for him. There was no way he could do that a second time, no matter what it cost him.

So he walked away from the dark bedroom, through the dark loft and headed up to his own dark, silent room. Undressed and in bed, he closed his eyes, letting his senses reach out to the room below, unashamedly luxuriating in the knowledge that for this night at least, Blair was here, and refusing to think about the fact that tomorrow he would be gone.

Jim didn't sleep well. Every time he drifted off, some faint noise would wake him and it would take him half an hour to go back to sleep. But he was wide awake when Blair's alarm sounded, and he got up right away, making coffee and getting into the shower before Blair showed his face. He put on a bright smile as Blair headed for the bathroom, then went back to his appointed task, packing sandwiches, fruit, granola bars, little juice packs and water bottles into a car cooler ready for Blair's drive. Sure, he'd packed enough food for a small army, but knowing Blair's luck, he'd get stranded on some back road for four days and need the food to stay alive.

He'd known it was going to be hard to do this, he just hadn't been prepared for how awful it would feel.

Blair sat with him and ate toast and drank coffee for breakfast, but it was obvious he was only doing it because he knew Jim needed to share this last meal with him. Jim did have to work, but he had at least two hours before he needed to leave. So they left the breakfast dishes and began piling Blair's luggage into the elevator, taking it in turns to lug the stuff out to the Volvo. Then they headed back upstairs so Blair could use the bathroom one last time, and Jim could give him the cooler full of food.

He put a few last things inside and slotted the lid down, leaving it by the door. Blair emerged from the bathroom, paused at the door to his empty bedroom one last time, then looked around the rest of the apartment. He said nothing, but his face only masked a little of what he was feeling. Jim didn't dare let himself speak. He'd never felt more powerless.

He waited by the door, so much of him yearning to stop his friend, to insist that they try harder to find another way around this, but any fleeting thoughts he had vanished when Blair stopped in front of him, his gaze a little frightened, but also brave, not sure he was ready to face this, but willing to give it a damned good try. Jim had never been so proud of him.

Without a word, he reached out and pulled Blair into a hug. Blair's arms wrapped around him so tightly he was sure neither of them would ever let go. Jim held on, feeling the warmth, the friendship, more than three years of incredible time filling the hug, making it a moment in time he knew he would never forget, that he would hold onto just as fiercely in the months to come. He could feel Blair's breath against his neck, a little fast, as though Blair was struggling to hold back tears.

Jim had to stop him. There was no way either of them would get through this if there were tears. 'Hey,' he murmured, pulling back a little so he could see Blair's face, Blair's eyes.

But then he didn't say anything else, because what he saw in Blair's eyes shocked him to the core. Something deep inside him awoke then, rose up and shone out of his own eyes for Blair to see. A profusion of words scattered across his scorched brain, tumbling down inside him like a house of cards, leaving him - leaving them both - with a naked and unavoidable truth.

The realization hit them both at the same time. Blair's eyebrows rose in horror, his lips opened to allow a single whisper to emerge, 'Oh, no!' Then Jim's mouth descended onto his and the kiss exploded between them, filling them, tearing them apart as they pulled each other closer.

The heat nearly killed him, but Jim didn't stop, didn't fight it, didn't fear it, didn't let go. He put everything into the kiss, receiving everything that Blair was giving him back. He gave until there was nothing left but the need for air. When they parted, they were both breathless and shaking, hopelessly confused, adamantly certain - and utterly shattered.

Stay! The word yelled itself into the silence of Jim's mind - but it remained there, unspoken. It was no more than an echo as Blair stepped back, as Jim let him go. It had vanished completely as Blair held his gaze a moment longer, eyes bright with unshed tears. Then his friend turned away, picked up the cooler and fled.

Jim listened to him go, not moving from his spot as he heard the footsteps run down the stairs and outside to the car. Didn't so much as breathe until the last rumble of engine petered away from even his hearing. Then he shut the door, collapsed against it and slid to the floor.

End Part One

Part Two

'Hey, Jim, it's me. Um, just thought I'd call to let you know I'm okay. I'm about half way there, but the roads have been a mess. Roads construction all the way south from Portland, so I'm gonna get in late okay? Don't worry if you don't hear from me till maybe six. So, um, yeah. I'll call you when I get in. Bye.'

'Hey, Jim, I guess you must be working late, huh. Well, it's a quarter after seven now. I just got in and everything's great. The place is so beautiful. I have my own bungalow surrounded by trees and it's a ten minute walk through the forest to the school. I have three days before I have to start teaching, so I'll have some time to get my head around it all. Oh, wait, I have to go. They're feeding me hot food, and I am sooo hungry! Look, I'll be up talking to these guys for a while, so I might try calling a bit later, in case you get in. Speak to you soon.'

'Jim, me again. I guess you probably drew stakeout again. Doesn't matter. Look, I'm bushed. I'm headed for bed. There's a whole lotta trees out here, Jim. (Yawn). Sorry! I'll probably be up to my ears in it tomorrow, but they'll come get me if you feel like calling. I can't wait to tell you about this place, Jim. It's amazing what they've done here. But hey, that can wait. My eyes are ready to fall out so I'll say goodnight.'

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: April 13
Subject: Hi

Hey, Jim, see they do have email here. Told you it wasn't so far out in the sticks. How's things? I hope you got my messages. I know the answering machine has been playing up lately, so it'd be just my luck the whole bunch got wiped before you heard them.

Things here are good. I've been teaching for a couple of weeks now and it's a challenge I can tell you. I have 18 kids in my class, aged between 9 and 11. Some of them are pretty bright, and they seem to like me so far, which is a good start. Classes start at eight in the morning, and we work till ten, then they get a half hour break before we do another two hours. Then we supervise games and sports for a couple of hours before doing another hour's class. Makes it a long day, but the pace during the class itself isn't like normal schools. There's a lot more interaction and discussion. The emphasis is not on learning by rote but on making sure they understand what they're learning, which has been proven in dozens of studies to be the best way to learn anything.

The people running the commune are great. I know most of them from years back. Paul, he's the business manager, I guess. He's about your age, came here with his dad back in the 70's and basically never left. His dad died a couple of years back and he's buried down in the valley. Then there's Heather, who knows my mom. She basically runs the place, administration-wise and looks exactly like you'd imagine her - tall and fine, long curly very grey hair, grey eyes and a big smile. Tom - who plays the guitar amongst other things - is in charge of the school, and effectively my boss, though there's no actual hierarchy here. I admit, I've been tempted to take notes to write a paper on how this place works, but I don't think I'm ready to take that step just yet.

Look, I have to go. Got a meeting with Tom and some of the parents about the Spring Festival we're having in a couple weeks. Things are great at the moment. Better than I expected. Speak to you soon.

B

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: May 6
Subject: Cold and wet is my world

Well, it's finally stopped raining. It's been pretty solid for the last five days. We've all been making jokes about how all we need is another 35 days and we'll have to start building the Ark. The lake is now overflowing, the stream that runs from it down into the valley is actually a pretty spectacular waterfall at the moment, though we can't really get near enough to see it properly because the ground's too unstable.

We actually got cut off from the road yesterday. There's a section of the dirt track that curves around the top of a hill, and there was a landslide. A couple of trees came down, some rocks and a whole lot of mud. It took the entire commune all day to clear it, and we were all drenched and covered in mud by the end of it. It looks okay now, though. Francis is a qualified engineer and she's been up the hill to have a look. She says it's unlikely we'll get another fall, but we've roped the area off just in case. There's more rain on the way.

The Spring Festival is next week - but with all the rain, we're way behind with the outdoor preparations. The kids have all been going loopy with being cooped up and it's been a real challenge for all of us to keep them occupied with things that can use up their seemingly endless energy (if you thought I was bad, you should try being stuck in a hall with sixty kids for five days). The good thing is, that apart from the school, there's two large common buildings here, with enough open space inside to have them playing ball games etc. We've also been teaching painting, knitting, making jigsaw puzzles and designing the vegetable garden planting for fall.

Right now the sun is shining and it's almost warm. The trees start to creak when they get wet and last night, after it stopped raining, I kept waking up thinking somebody was trying to break into my bungalow. I guess old habits die hard.

So, how's things with you? How are the guys? Missing me? Solved any major crimes lately? He he. I bet Simon's lost without me to pick on. Did Megan decide yet if she was going to stay another year? I hope she does. It won't be the same there without her. You guys need a little balance in the workplace.

Well, I'd better go. We have only the one computer available for email and my time is about up. I didn't mean to ramble on, but it's easier telling you this stuff via email than leaving long messages on the answering machine. I guess you're not ready to talk to me yet. That's cool. I get that it's not so easy. I can wait.

B

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: May 23
Subject: Spring!

Wow, what a change! That rain we had turned the whole place upside down. There's bluebells out under the trees on the higher hills, and all sorts of gorgeous other little white and yellow flowers covering the whole valley floor. I had to go down there yesterday to help herd the goats - yes, I get to do all that kind of stuff too. It's fun. But I tell you, with the sunshine, the wildflowers and everything, the scent was just incredible! I wanted to bottle some up and send it to you - nearly did, but then I thought, it would look a bit silly to the guys I was with and it probably wouldn't have worked anyway.

The Festival was a great success. We had over two hundred visitors for the day, coming from as far as Sacramento. I was looking after some of the kids in the morning, but for the afternoon, I had to take groups on walking tours around the commune buildings, through all the village industry huts and down to the valley and back. We've got three potential new members as a result of the Festival and everybody seemed to have a great time. We finished up the day with a huge feast - all vegetarian as usual - but some of these guys are great cooks and the food was fantastic!

Been playing the guitar a lot lately, usually with the kids, but after the feast, a some of the other guys brought theirs out and we had a great night jamming, playing all sorts of stuff, singing things we remembered. We're already talking about doing it on a regular basis and I have to say it feels good to be playing again. I don't even remember why I stopped.

Tomorrow things will be back to normal. Classes with tests coming up. Though the commune runs the school, we still have to maintain a structured curriculum or the kids won't be able to keep up if they decide to go to college. To be honest, after the last couple of weeks, I'm bushed. But I'm having fun. The people are good, the kids great and the hills are way beautiful.

It would be great if you could come up for a visit, just to see the place. We don't have to talk about what happened if you don't want, but I would like to. Better still, how about you just send me an email so I know you're okay? Joel writes to me regularly and the others drop me a line from time to time, so I know you're well and stuff. I'd just like to hear from you. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I don't want what happened to destroy our friendship and I'm getting scared that it has. Just a few lines, okay?

B

Blair was sweeping pine needles from the path outside his bungalow when Heather called from the common room door.

'Blair? Phone call!'

For a second, he'd thought he'd misheard. But before he could really even think about it, he'd dropped the broom and was running towards her. She had a grin on her face.

'Very sexy voice, Blair. Have you been holding out on us?'

He blushed, but didn't stay to answer. He dashed inside and made for the little alcove in the corner that had a comfy chair, table and a window to look out of. The phone sat on the table, the hand rest lying beside it.

He picked it up, a little breathless. Please let Jim be okay. 'Hello?'

'Hey, Chief. How are you?'

His heart did a little triple time, then relaxed at the warm, comfortable tone. With a grin from ear to ear, he sank down onto the chair. Out of the corner of his eye, Heather was grinning back at him and he blushed again, waving her away. As she left him alone, he spoke. 'Hey, Jim. It's good to hear your voice. I was ... I was thinking you would email me. Or something.'

'Yeah, well, I guess I should apologize for that. I just, um, you know, didn't really know what to say. But you're right, I should have at least let you know I was okay. I'm sorry for that.'

'I understand. You at home?'

'No, I'm calling from Simon's office. He's out at a budget meeting all morning and I didn't want to wait until tonight. I figured the common room would be full of people by then.'

'Yeah, it usually is.'

'What about now?'

'I'm the only one here. Heather's in the office - she answered the phone.' Blair paused, smiling again. 'She said you have a sexy voice.'

Jim snorted.

Blair continued, 'She thinks there's something ... um, going on. Between us.'

There was a long pause at that in which Blair's heart began to hammer again. He didn't say anything though. Jim had called him, obviously for a reason, and he couldn't bear to try second guessing his friend. Not after so much silence.

'So, er,' Jim said quietly. 'Is there?'

Blair had to pull in a deep breath before he could get his voice steady enough to answer. 'I think so, yeah.'

'Yeah?' He could almost hear Jim nodding. There was another pause, and again the voice was soft, almost tender. 'Um, me too.'

Suddenly, Blair's throat constricted and he had to do more deep breathing exercises just to make himself sit still. It had taken two months, but finally Jim was sitting here talking about it. So what if he'd needed all that time - at least they now had some place to start from.

'I'm, um, really glad to hear that, Jim,' no doubt that his relief emerged in his voice. 'I don't suppose there's any chance you could come visit for a few days?'

'I'd like to, Chief. The way we left things was ... well, it, um. I was shocked, I guess. It's taken me some time to get my head around it. With everything else that's happened over the last year, with Barnes and, you know, the fountain and then ... Sid and Naomi, I guess I just needed to make sure that what I was feeling, what we were both feeling was, you know, real.'

Blair nodded, 'I get that, Jim. So, how do you feel about it now?'

'Scared, mostly. I've never ... well, okay, maybe I've looked a lot over the years, but it never really occurred to me that I might actually want to be with another man.'

'And do you?' Blair held his breath then, suddenly terrified that the answer might still be no.

'Yeah. I think I do.'

'Really?' Blair started grinning again - only to discover Heather peering out of the office at him, a blatantly innocent look on her face. Again he waved her away and heard her laughter as she shut the door and left him to his call. 'Are you sure?'

Jim gave him a low chuckle, 'I'd, um, tell you how sure but I feel a little inhibited talking about ... you know ... while I'm sitting at Simon's desk and smelling his cigars all around me.'

Blair laughed at that, feeling two months worth of worry lift off him. 'Yeah, I can see that.'

'So, um, how does that go with what you're feeling?' This was about as direct as Jim ever got and all Blair really wanted to do at that minute was hold him and kiss him.

He straightened up in the chair and held the phone with both hands. 'I wanted to talk to you for so long. I must have written fifty emails in my head about what I wanted to say. But I didn't want to push you. I guess I needed you to get to this place on your own. Otherwise I'd never really be sure that ... Well, that it's what you wanted.'

'Yeah.'

'But what I wanted to say all along was, I want to go with this, Jim. I mean, I don't have any more idea of what this is than you do. I've thought about that morning so many times, and everything that came before it, but I still don't really have answers. The only thing I do know, is that ... well, we kissed each other. It wasn't just me, it wasn't just you. Whatever this is, it's happening to both of us. And I want it. I, um, I want you. Is that, er, okay?'

He got a rather shaky sigh from Jim then, and realized that Jim hadn't been sure of him until that moment. 'Yeah, Chief, it's very okay. I just don't know where we go from here.'

'Well, I can't get away for a while. I could drive up for the weekend, but I'd only be there a few hours before I'd have to turn around and come back. And there's no school break for a couple of months. The school terms are different here, and the kids don't really get weeks to run around crazy. Can you get away?'

'Um, no, not really.' There was a subtle change in Jim's tone then, sending a warning through Blair, though it was not enough for him to grapple yet. 'Things are pretty over the top at the moment. Simon's cancelled leave for everybody. I don't know when I could get away. But I want to. I miss you, Chief. I ... I want to say I wish you were here, but fuck that would be so damned selfish. You sound so happy there. Happier than I've heard you for a very long time and I'm so glad it's working out for you. But that doesn't mean I don't wish that ... well that things had turned out differently.'

'I know, Jim, I know. Me too. But you know, we were on borrowed time anyway. My ride-along was never going to last forever. I was already under a lot of pressure to submit my thesis, and okay, so maybe it wouldn't have hit the headlines but I wouldn't have been able to work with you any more. And, you know, I would have got a job somewhere, maybe taken an expedition or something, and moved out. We couldn't just go on living together indefinitely.'

'So, what you're saying is, that if you hadn't flushed your career down the toilet, and left the way you did, we might never have ...' Jim paused and Blair imagined him blushing, 'got all hot and sweaty?'

Blair had to laugh at Jim's choice of words. 'Man, we didn't get anywhere near as hot and sweaty as I was hoping. Or as I've been, er, imagining since.'

'Oh, man, I hear that.' Jim moaned. 'Chief, please, let's not go there, okay? I'm still in Simon's office and he's going to be back soon. How am I going to explain my inability to get up from his desk?'

'Sorry, man,' Blair grinned, not sorry at all. It had just been sooo damned long and now, to be able to tease Jim a little - and about sex - was too great a temptation. He'd already had too many dates with his right hand. Who knew how long it would be before they'd get to discuss it in person?

'Look, I better go. Need to calm down a little, think about some basketball scores or something before Simon gets back. I'll see what I can do about getting some time off, but it'll be a while. Can we live with that?'

Blair let his voice fill out. 'Jim, I think I've been waiting for this, for us, to happen a long, long time. Whatever it is, we can deal with it. If we have to wait a couple of months even before we can explore this further, then we will. We can each ...' It was Blair's turn to blush again, 'you know ... take care of stuff in the meantime. It's not so big a deal. Well, okay, it is, but you know what I mean. And I know you're busy and I know you're not much into writing letters but just drop me an email now and then, just so I know not to worry, okay?'

'Sure thing, Chief. I love reading yours. Makes a big difference to me.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. Oh, shit, Simon's coming through the bullpen. I have to go. I'll call you when I can.'

'Bye, Jim.'

'Bye, Chief.'

And then he was gone, leaving Blair still holding the phone and wishing it was the man instead.

He was still sitting there a few minutes later when Heather brought over a mug of coffee and set it on the table in front of him.

'It's times like these,' she began, 'when I wish we allowed alcohol on the commune.'

Blair blushed again before he could glance up at her. What was wrong with him? In the space of half an hour, he'd already broken his entire lifetime's record for blushing - and he and Jim hadn't even done anything but kiss once!

He pursed his lips, picked up the coffee, took a sip to give himself a little time, then, with his face cooling a little, he looked up. There was kindness in her eyes, making him smile.

'So,' she continued, deliberately innocent, 'anyone we're likely to meet soon?'

'Yeah. Well, maybe not for a while. He can't get away at the moment.'

'And his name would be ...'

'Jim.' The moment Blair said it, things abruptly settled inside him. For the last two months, he'd lived on the edge of his own life. He'd worked hard to become a part of this large family, but he'd been unable to actually open up about what had brought him there, and who he'd left behind, as though by speaking about it, he might damage some frail balance of fate, and tip the scales against himself. 'His name's Jim Ellison. He's a, well, he's a cop. In Cascade.'

'Well, he definitely has a very sexy voice. I was tempted to keep him on the line a little longer before calling you. Life can get a little unexciting around here from time to time.'

Blair laughed, 'Heather, he's young enough to be your son.'

'So are you - but that doesn't mean I can't look, does it?'

Blair choked on his coffee until he was gasping for breath and Heather was patting him on the back. She pulled him to his feet and drew him into the office where she closed the door behind him. She poured him a glass of filtered water and made him drink it slowly. Once he could breathe again, she sat down opposite him.

'Tell me about him?'

Meeting her genuine and kind gaze, Blair was tempted to say nothing for a moment, because well, this was all so new and it wasn't like he'd been dating guys for years or anything. And yet, part of his stress over waiting to hear from Jim had been because he'd had to keep it all inside, while trying to make himself a new home here. But there were other ways to do that than try to make out he didn't have a past.

'He's tall,' he began, the image of Jim conjured up before him, as though he were in the room with them. The comfort of that alone was enough to urge him to continue. 'He's balding a little, but it looks good on him. He has these ... well, these beautiful grey-blue eyes that can look right through you. Scares the crap out of bad guys, I can tell you.'

Heather chuckled and sat back, picking up her coffee. 'Go on.'

So Blair continued, telling her about Jim the man, not Jim the cop, or Jim the sentinel. Just the man he'd ... fallen in love with without realising it.

And that thought brought him to a halt, his gaze going inward. Yeah. He was in love. And so was Jim. That's why they'd taken so long to have that talk, because this was serious. This was it.

Heather had asked a few questions as he'd talked, and now she asked another. 'Is he out at work? I'd imagine that would be difficult for him despite the growing change in people's ideas.'

'Out?' Blair looked up and frowned. Out? As in Gay Out? 'Um, no. We're not really, I mean, we are, but we've not actually...' He stopped, gathered himself and his words and said what he was trying to say. 'This is all pretty new for both of us. It just happened as I was leaving Cascade.'

'Oh. And you've never been with a man before? Has Jim?'

There was only one answer he could give, though he was trying desperately not to blush again. 'Um, no.'

'Blair, that's so sweet.' Heather got up to refresh his coffee. 'If the physical side of things is worrying you at all, you should go and talk to Ralph and Peter. They've been together for ... wait, they had their anniversary in February - yes, I think twenty-three years now. Of course, they weren't always exclusive, but they have been for the last ten. I know they'd be quite happy to answer any questions you have - and I'm sure they wouldn't say anything to make you blush.' She said this with another little chuckle, as though she were really enjoying herself today, much to her surprise.

'Yeah, thanks, I might,' Blair replied, wrapping his hands around the mug, wondering if he could bring himself to do such a thing. But it was good advice. After all, this wasn't a subject he knew much about - and he wasn't in a position to do much surfing on the internet. Considering the most he would find would be websites with either highly technical descriptions or porn - from one extreme to the other - perhaps a little personal advice wouldn't go astray. It was a fairly solid assumption that Jim wouldn't go asking questions about how to have sex with another man.

'I suppose I shall have to be the one to tell Lisa.'

Blair frowned. 'Tell Lisa what?'

'That you're taken.'

'Lisa?' Blair's eyes widened. Lisa was the teacher of the kids under nine years. They worked together every day and built up a really good rapport. And yes, he would have been dead not to notice how attractive she was, and though he and Jim hadn't even talked about anything yet, he'd already decided that he wasn't going to complicate matters by taking anybody else into his bed until they had. But still, 'Lisa?'

'Yes - don't tell me you hadn't noticed! Oh, Blair, you have been in a bad way, haven't you. Naomi did warn me you had things on your mind, though she didn't say what. She just asked me to keep an eye on you, but honestly, I had no idea! I'm so sorry I didn't try harder. You've needed friends over the last few months and instead of being there for you, we all kept our distance, wanting you to find your own path to us. Yes, Lisa has taken quite a shine to you - but I think she'll get over it now that she realises that it's not her so much, but rather she's not Jim.'

'I'm sorry, Heather, I really didn't know. Yeah, I'd appreciate it if you could say something, but be gentle, okay? I'd hate for her to get hurt. And I do like her. To be honest, if it hadn't been for Jim, well...'

'Oh, I'm sure you would have - though I won't tell her that much. The last thing a girl needs to know is that a man would want her if he didn't have a boyfriend.'

Blair had to laugh at that. 'No, I guess not.' He finished his coffee and got to his feet. 'I'd better go. Tom and I are going to hike along the south ridge this afternoon.'

'Oh, you'll love that. There's a pair of eagles nesting up there. You might catch sight of it. But don't get lost. There aren't too many paths in that area. Just stick with Tom.'

'I will.' Blair turned to the door and paused. 'Thanks, Heather. I appreciate it.'

'My pleasure, Blair. And I look forward to meeting Jim. You have no idea how delightful you look when you blush. Now go.'

Of course, there was no way then he could leave without blushing again, no matter how hard he tried. As he jogged back to his bungalow, he couldn't help wondering how he'd got to be so fucking lucky.

End Part Two

Part Three

Jim was on his feet by the time Simon pushed the door open and dropped his briefcase by his desk. He got out of Simon's way and stood ready to leave.

'How did the meeting go?'

Simon grunted. 'Oh, the usual. Do more with less money. Get greater results with fewer resources. I'm not sure why I bother some days.' Simon shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat hook before looking up at Jim. 'So, did you call Sandburg?'

'Yeah, just finished talking to him.'

'And?'

'And what?'

'Did you tell him?'

'Um, no.'

'Um, no?' Simon repeated clearly. He strode forward and closed his office door, returning to take his seat. 'I thought we had a discussion about this, Jim. I thought we agreed that the best thing was for you to tell him what was going on. What's he going to say if he finds out from someone else?'

'Who else is going to tell him? Everybody knows to keep him out of it, Captain.'

'I'm aware of what everybody else is doing, Jim. What I don't understand is what you're doing. Why didn't you tell him?'

Jim put his hands on his hips and walked over to the window, the echoes of Blair's voice still resounding in his mind, calming him, keeping him balanced in a way that he'd missed so much over the last couple of months. Some days the ...need to have him close was so intense, he could hardly think straight.

'I couldn't,' he replied eventually. 'We had other things to talk about.'

'Other things? What else could be more important than those guys on the second floor? You think they're just going to let this all go?'

'No, Simon, I don't. But if I tell Sandburg, he's just going to want to come back and I can't let him.' He turned around to face Simon, spreading his arms in an effort to explain. 'He's happy there, Simon. I want him to be happy. That means something to me. If he comes back here, it'll only make it worse, you know that.'

'Then tell him not to come back - but he still has to know. Come on, Jim. He's stuck with you through all this and more. You don't think he's going to want to be able to support you now?'

'You don't understand, Simon. There's other... stuff going on.'

'What stuff?' Simon frowned, obviously not liking the sound of this. 'It's not your senses again, is it? I thought you said that had all settled down.'

'No, it's not my senses. And the other stuff is personal, okay? Between Sandburg and me. It has nothing to do with what's going on here, and I don't want it to. Please, Simon, I will tell him, just not yet. Not with so much else happening. I want him out of it, clear and away.'

'And what if this shit really does go down? What are you going to do then?'

'Then ... then I'll tell him. Maybe. It will depend on what kind of shit we're talking about.'

Simon sat back, folding his fingers together, still not happy. 'And what if I told him?'

Jim came to a halt, meeting his captain's gaze. 'Please don't, Simon. If you care about him at all, don't do that unless there's no alternative.'

Simon watched him for a moment, then nodded, letting out a noisy sigh. 'Very well, we'll play it your way. I just don't like all this cloak and dagger stuff.'

'Me neither. But what choice have we got?'

'None. Just do your job, Jim. Let's just keep this going and hope that it will all work out.'

'I'm with you on that one, Sir.' With that, Jim went back out into the bullpen, aware of eyes on him, meeting only Joel's gaze with a nod. Joel got the message and went back to his work, leaving Jim to do his.

Everything else would just have to wait.

But even though Simon's words had chilled him, they weren't enough to ruin the warmth he still felt after talking to Blair, after finding out Blair wanted to pursue this thing happening between them. Though it still terrified Jim, it was now a terror he almost enjoyed, the anticipation sitting comfortably in the pit of his stomach, where nobody could see it. For the moment, it was enough to give him something to hold onto while the rest of his world crumbled around him.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: June 11
Subject: Planting

I think I've pulled every muscle in my back, so maybe it's a good thing you're not coming to visit soon. We've spent the last week digging up just about everything in the vegetable garden - and considering it's enough to feed 206 people, I'll let you imagine how big it is. It's one of those jobs we all get to help with - even the kids. So there's been no classes this week, at least, no official ones.

The gardens are set out on terraces on the hillside below the lake. The lake isn't that big, but it's fed by a couple of streams so there's always water in there. With the commune owning almost 700 acres of this land, the water comes in handy. We have irrigation channels that can flow down from the lake to feed the gardens, but since it rains here most evenings, that isn't necessary unless we're planting. And we've been planting plenty this week. Of course, everything is organic, so before we can get stuff in the ground, we have to put other stuff in first. Smelly stuff.

We recycle 98% of what we use here. This includes human and animal waste, which is treated in huge underground vats on a hill too far away to give us problems with smell. The whole process was designed by Tim, an environmental engineer who got sick of fighting multi-nationals and came to live here about ten years ago. Since then, he's designed recycling units for all sorts of waste - and we use all of it in one form or another. It's so cool though, Jim. By the time we start treating the earth with it, it's just this pale liquid that smells pretty strong, but does no harm to anything. The worms just love it and the vegetables grow huge and taste great.

I loved your phone call. I hope things are okay. You'd tell me if they weren't, right?

B

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: July 3
Subject: Hey

You've gone silent on me again and it's been so long since you called I can't help but worry a little. I know you said things were hectic, but you did promise just to drop me a line so I know you're okay. I hate writing these things, and if I could, I'd come up and see you. I want to see you so bad it hurts, but I also can't help feeling that you're not ready for that and that's okay too. You know me, I love to worry. Look, just hit Reply and Send, that'll do. Just so I know.

B

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: July 18
Subject: Problems

Hey, Chief, I'm so sorry. I'd write more but there's things happening today and I've only got a minute. I'm fine, but there's stuff I can't tell you about, okay? And I don't think I'll be able to call again for a while. I might not be able to email either. But don't worry. I really am fine, honest. I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can. I'll come down and stay a week. We can talk then and well, maybe do a little of that other stuff we were talking about. Please just be patient with me a little while longer.

Jim

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: July 20
Subject: Re: Problems

Okay, I've got my 'I'm not going to worry about Jim' face on. But I gotta tell you, man, it's not easy when you say stuff like that. You know I'm going to wonder what's going on with you, I know so little about your life now and it's hard to be so far away from you when I want to be there and help if I can.

But that's just how I feel and me harping on about it isn't going to help you. So, you just deal with what you need to deal with and know that I'm okay. If I worry a little, well, so be it. It won't kill me. I'm fine and things are going great here. Summer in the mountains is such a surprise. The place is so beautiful I know I keep repeating myself. I just know you'd love it here. You'd love the people too.

So I don't want you thinking about what I'm thinking. I just want you to focus on what you need to do. Try to relax, do your deep breathing at least twice a day, even if you just do it before you go to bed.

Oh, hey, I think there's a couple of shirts of mine still in the closet in my room. If you need to, they might still have some of my scent on them. I don't know if that will help, but it might just get you sleeping properly.

Take care, Jim

B

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: August 22
Subject: Urgent

Chief, you have to stop emailing me. I don't have time to explain it right now. Don't call, either - and whatever you do, don't come here. I promise I'll be in touch, but it might be a while. Please don't worry. I am fine, I promise. I'll get Simon to email in a few days and he'll tell you everything. Have to go.

Shirts worked.

Jim

Blair stared at the screen without blinking, his stomach tumbling at the words he could hardly believe. He read the short message again but that didn't make it any better, in fact, it only made it worse.

What the hell was going on in Cascade? Why couldn't Blair email? Or call? He could get that Jim couldn't contact him if he was particularly busy, or even if he was undercover or something - but why shouldn't Blair at least email him?

He had to go. He had to get to Cascade and find out what was going on.

But Jim had just told him not to. What the hell was he supposed to do? Jim was in trouble and Blair was supposed to just sit here and do nothing? Whose stupid idea was that?

He didn't realize he was hyperventilating until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He gulped and looked up to find Heather standing beside him, quietly closing down his email without looking at the message. Then she caught his elbow and steered him into her office, shutting the door behind them.

Blair sagged onto the small couch and buried his face in his hands. Heather returned to her keyboard, finished doing what she was doing, then turned to face him, watching him for a while.

'I don't know what to do,' he mumbled, knowing she was waiting for him to speak first.

He heard her making tea and he dropped his hands in time to take the cup from her. Chamomile, one of his favorites as she had discovered over the last five months. He sipped a few times, blowing on the surface to cool it down.

'Is it Jim?'

'Yeah. He's ... I don't know what's happening, but I can tell it's not good.'

'He hasn't called since that last time, has he?'

'No, but he said it might be hard for him. I think he's been working undercover - which isn't unusual and if he is, then contacting me would be dangerous if not impossible. And if it were just that, I'd be worried about him being okay, but that's all. But this... this is...' Blair swallowed hard and met her gaze. 'He's just told me not to contact him again. No email, nothing. Like, like me contacting him is dangerous for him. Why? How could I be dangerous to him, unless...'

The thought dawned on him slowly, his shock dulling his usually sharp senses. 'Unless somebody found out about us and is, I don't know, maybe harassing him, threatening him. Maybe they got into his email or something and...'

'Blair,' Heather reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. 'Don't go looking for answers. I know your imagination and you'll only dig yourself in deeper. Did he say he was in danger?'

'No,' Blair dismissed that instantly. 'But then he wouldn't, you know? You don't know him. He's so proud and stubborn and he takes forever to get around to talking about stuff, even unimportant stuff. He knows I'm worried, but if he could say anything to stop me worrying, he would have - only he didn't. Which means he can't. Fuck, what am I going to do? He needs me and he won't even let me go to Cascade!'

'Take a deep breath, Blair. Come on, you can do it. Would you let Jim work himself up like this? That's it, now another. Okay, sip your tea slowly. Don't burn your throat.'

Somehow, Heather had moved without Blair realising, sitting on the couch beside him, an arm around his shoulders, her hand patting his arm. He pulled himself together, but the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach didn't go away.

'I just wish I could do something.'

'But you can't.'

'No.'

'Do you want me to try contacting Naomi?'

'Um, no, thanks, Heather. Believe it or not, that would just open up a whole 'nother can of worms I can't deal with at the moment.' Blair got to his feet and paced a little in the small office, clearing his head and feeling better for every step. 'No, he can't be in too much danger because one of the guys would have told me, I know that. And his s... Um, no, he has to be okay. It's just ... yeah, he's probably undercover or something,' he heard his own words and they sounded unconvincing to his ears - but he wasn't about to fall apart over this. He owed it to Jim to hold it together. Jim needed to know he was okay if he was to get himself out of trouble, and Blair was not about to cause more.

He turned back to Heather. 'He did say that Simon would email me in a few days and tell me everything.'

'Well, that's got to be a good sign, right? If everything was very bad, Jim would want it kept from you completely, wouldn't he?'

'Yeah,' Blair nodded, getting his equilibrium back. 'Yeah, that's right. So, I'll, er, just um, grow a few grey hairs until Simon gets in touch. Shit, I hate this!'

Heather laughed a little at that. 'Love will do that to you, my dear. But you hold on. You're so much stronger than you think you are.'

'I am?' Blair raised his eyebrows, surprised by her comment.

'We all are. Thing is, we never find that out until our strength is tested. Consider this your test.'

'Yeah, good advice.' He finished his tea and gave her the cup back. 'I think I need to go for a run.'

'I'll see you at supper.'

'Thanks, Heather.'

'You're welcome, Blair.'

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Date: August 28
Subject: Jim's okay

Hi Blair,

Before I say anything else, I just want you to know that Jim is fine. He's just not in a position to contact you at the moment but I promise you, nothing bad has happened to him.

And before you ask, he gave me your email address just in case. So don't worry, I haven't read anything he has in his Inbox, so whatever it is that you two were chatting about - you know, the stuff that's been making Jim go red in the face whenever he reads your emails? - well, all that stuff is currently still private, and I sincerely hope it remains exactly that, if I make myself clear?

I'll tell you everything I can, but you have to stay where you are and not jump into your car - and that's an order, Sandburg.

About six weeks after you left, I got a request in from IA, asking for documents pertaining to a few of Jim's cases. I didn't worry about it at the time, since they do spot checks on all detectives and it never means anything. Only, a few weeks later, more requests came in. Since then, we've had to pull up files for every arrest and conviction he's had since he started here, including his files from Vice. I had to make seven calls to the Commissioner before he would admit that some political pressure had been brought to bear and as a result, he'd had to place Jim under investigation.

He wanted to suspend Jim, but I talked him out of it. No charges have been laid, and so far there's no evidence that he's done anything wrong. Suspending him would have just ruined the reputation of a man the Commissioner himself had named Cop of the Year.

So Jim stayed on duty - but it's been very difficult for him. Everybody knew he was under investigation, and it didn't take long for them to figure out why. I tried to keep him to desk work as much as possible, but that was driving everybody up the wall, so I teamed him with a different partner for every case, thinking that the more he spread himself around, the more people would realise that he's just damned good at his job.

But the investigation hasn't gone away. They haven't said they've found anything, but they also won't clear him yet. The IA people took an office on the second floor, and pretty much keep Jim on a short leash. He answers their questions as they come up, though his union lawyer has advised him not to. Jim believes - and I agree with him - that if he starts hiding behind a lawyer at this point, he's already lost the battle.

It's my opinion that since they can't find anything in his previous cases, they think he'll slip up now, while they're nosing around. You know as well as I do what they think they're looking for. I honestly can't imagine how stupid they think he is.

A few weeks after the investigation began, Jim's allergies began to act up. You know what it's like when he can't get a good night's sleep because of them. Well, I think it was the stress and everything, but he got it under control without too much trouble and he's been okay since. He didn't say anything to you because (he says) he didn't want you to go sending him one of your special concoctions of seaweed and other noxious ingredients. Can't say I blame him.

Of course, just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, about three weeks ago, Wendy Hawthorne found out that Jim was under investigation. Since he'd done her a favour that time, she thought she'd do him one in return. Using stock footage for film, and a lot of imagination, she broadcast an article on how Detective Ellison had been the victim of a fraud perpetrated by his former partner etc etc and as a result, is now the subject of an IA investigation prompted, she believes, by an interest from the CIA. She's busily telling everyone who will listen that Jim is an innocent man being hounded by the authorities for simply being good at his job.

Needless to say the media have had a field day with this. I hate to tell you this, Sandburg, but your face has been all over the television as well.

With the increased media attention, Jim's had to move out of the loft. We've had him in a few of our safe houses, but he got sick of living out of a suitcase. I couldn't let him go back to the loft on his own, in case his allergies played up again, so he moved in with his brother, Steven two weeks ago. Jim said you can call him there tomorrow on 555 886 6410. Jack's helping him get settled with a few extra home comforts.

As I said, Jim's okay. Everybody's in his corner and we're all doing the best we can. Joel's even cooked Jim a few pots of that ostrich chili you make, and Connor has kept him supplied with this crunchy breakfast cereal sweet she makes called Chocolate Crackles - Jim loves them. We're taking care of him. We know you're worried about him, but he's not in any real danger. Still, it's because of all this attention and possible surveillance, he doesn't want you emailing him or anything. It's just safer this way. He really wants to keep you out of this. I'm afraid I agree with him. I think you might too.

I do promise that if anything happens, I'll call you immediately. Please delete this email as soon as you get it. I'll be deleting this account as soon as this email is sent.

I'm getting too old for all this bullshit.

Take care, kid, and call Jim tomorrow. He's waiting to talk to you.

Simon

Blair had to wait a long time before the common room was empty and he could make the call.

Allergies? CIA?

There is no way he should have left Cascade. This was all his fault. If he'd stuck around, they could have grilled him - not Jim. He could have easily sold them on the idea that his thesis was a work of fiction. None of this would have happened.

But of course, he'd thought he'd already sewn it up with his press conference, and if truth be told, the way the whole story had died down, they'd had no reason to think it would all rise up again. Only it had, and now, if anything, it was even worse than before, because now there was nowhere for Jim to retreat to!

Finally, he dialed the number as the last people filed out into the night air. There were rumbles and clicks on the line, then the ring tone. Blair knew he was working himself up into another panic attack, and that Jim would hear it over the phone, but it was a struggle to calm down when for the last day, all he'd had to think about was how all his worst nightmares had come true. The only thing stopping him from driving straight back to Cascade was the sure and certain knowledge that if he showed his face on the scene at this point, he'd only make it ten times worse.

A click sounded in his ear, then a voice slightly metallic in tone. 'Hello?'

'Steven?'

'Hey, Blair - Jim! Jim! Phone call!' Blair heard a faint reply in the distance, then Steven came back.

'He's digging something at the bottom of the yard, he'll be here in a minute.'

'How is he?' Blair asked, breathless.

'He's okay. Um, look, he's just washing up, taking his boots off - so that gives me long enough to, um.'

'What is it?' Blair's voice was no more than a whisper.

'He told me. About you two. I know it's early and everything, but I just want you to know that I'm cool with it. I'm really happy for you both, you know?'

Despite his desperation to just hear Jim's voice, this simple declaration did a lot to calm him.

'Um, yeah. Thanks, Steven. For saying it.'

'No problem. Jim's here now. I'll close the door on my way out.'

Noises of movement came over the line then, followed by the unmistakably solid thud of a door being closed. Then, 'Chief?'

Blair nearly wept with relief. 'Jim! Oh, man it's sooo good to hear your voice.'

There was no mistaking the smile in Jim's warm tone. 'It's good to hear you, too. Are you okay?'

'Am I okay? I'm fine! How are you?'

'I'm doing okay. Chief, I'm so sorry about all this.'

'Hey, it's not your fault. I just wish you'd told me sooner.'

'I wanted to, but I didn't want you to worry being so far away. It's been impossible to call you. I couldn't even risk going to a phone booth. I had to delete all my emails and don't tell Simon, but I even arranged for the backups to have a small accident. Chief, they've been through everything. The only thing they haven't touched yet is the loft - and that's only because they know they can't get a warrant when there's no evidence I committed any kind of crime. Jack Kelso's been a great help. He got me a few toys so I can keep the line here free from interference. I would have called you yesterday, but we only got this stuff up and running last night, and while one device operates a scrambler, the other can only hide the originating number of incoming calls. They can still trace any call I make out.'

'So, you haven't told them where I am? Did they ask?'

'Haven't stopped asking. They want to see your original manuscript. I told them I was pretty sure you'd destroyed it. I said we had a big fight over the trouble you'd caused for me, and that you didn't deserve to be a cop after all. I said you packed up that same night, got into your car and drove away. I haven't seen you since. Which is true, I haven't.'

'Maybe you shouldn't have lied. They'll find out eventually.'

'I'm hoping they won't. Look, IA's only interested in the sentinel thing so the City can cover its ass if anyone tries to sue.'

'But you didn't break any laws, Jim. Your convictions stood up to trial by jury. How you collected the evidence doesn't matter in court. It was all legal. Man, I told them all the whole thesis was a fraud and they didn't believe it!'

'I don't think it's that, Chief. I honestly think they're just hedging their bets. Just in case anybody asks for specific information. Simon's telling me there's nobody actually baying for my blood, and even the Commissioner thinks the whole thing should be dropped now, so at least they seem willing to be open-minded about it. But thanks to Wendy, I can't even leave Steven's house for the moment.'

'Is it just media? Do they know you're there? Simon said Wendy's report mentioned CIA interference.'

'I don't think they've found me here yet, but that's just a matter of time. Steven's phone number is silent - he got that done after the last time. As to Wendy, well you know what she's like. Simon tried talking to her, but she just thinks he's part of the conspiracy against me. I don't dare see her myself. She'll just use whatever I say to boost her story, even if it contradicts it.'

'Jim, I'm not so sure about this.'

'Why?'

'Because there was no reason to investigate you. As far as they were concerned, I claimed you were a sentinel, then reneged on that claim. They had no reason not to believe me when I was trashing not only my career but three million bucks into the bargain. The way they saw it, only a madman would throw away that kind of money if there was any chance his story would hold water. The fact that I was prepared to publicly declare myself a fraud was a huge signal that the sentinel story had to be false. Jim, that's why I did it.'

Jim was silent a moment, then he said, 'So you think Wendy might have something?'

'I don't know what she's got, and knowing her, it could be absolutely nothing. But you can't risk making that assumption, Jim. If the CIA - or anybody - has developed an interest in you, this is how they'd go about it. From behind the scenes they'd push for a legitimate investigation, and oversee the results. They'd put you under surveillance and see if you cracked under pressure. You haven't been using your senses at work, have you?'

'Of course not.'

'And for just this once, Jim, I'm going to let slide the fact that you didn't tell me you were having trouble with them. Simon couched it all in carefulspeak, saying you'd had trouble with allergies. I might have been able to help.'

'Chief, I really-'

'No, Jim, I mean it. It's okay. It's done and we have far worse things to worry about now.'

'Sure. You're right.'

'So, what are you going to do now?'

Jim sighed, 'What can I do but wait it out? Steven's fine having me here and actually, it's kinda nice. Better than being in the loft on my own.'

'Well, I'm glad you're there. Simon was right to insist and you can tell him I said that next time you talk to him. I take it you're not working at the moment.'

'Can't get into the building, but I expect that'll calm down in a few weeks.'

'I hope so.'

'But no matter what happens, I don't want you coming here, okay? Especially if you're right and there is some other Agency interested in me. As it is, if I have to I can disappear - but I can't do that if I have to worry about where you are. Please, Blair, I need you to promise me you won't come. Only a few people I trust completely even know where you are and I only told them in case something happened to me. Now I want your promise, Chief. Stay away.'

'Yeah, okay,' Blair agreed reluctantly.

'And ... um... I guess that means it will be a while before I come visit you, too. Jeez the timing for all this couldn't have been worse. I mean the investigation - not us.'

Blair greeted that statement with silence. He didn't know what else to say. Jim was right - the timing sucked. The important thing at the moment was making sure Jim got through this and out the other side.

'Chief? What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong, Jim.'

'Chief, you're a few hundred miles away, but I can tell you're lying. I need you to understand this, Blair - I'm relying on you. I need to know you're okay or I won't get through this in one piece. Can you understand that? Now please, tell me what's wrong?'

How could he refuse a plea like that? Blair bit his lip before continuing, using the pain. 'You told Steven.'

'I told him ... Oh,' Jim paused. 'Well, yeah. I figured, when you called ... and I wanted him to know to contact you if anything happened to me. You know, if they dragged me off-'

'What did you tell him?'

'Just that, well, um,' Jim's confident and strong tone suffered a little then, and that alone reached out to Blair over the empty miles. 'I told him that you and I had been growing really close over the last year and before you left, we, er, we reached a really important point together. I said that though things were still pretty new and a bit awkward, that we were in love and were determined to make it work no matter what. That it didn't help being so far away when we're trying to have an actual relationship.'

Blair sniffed wetly, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes before he turned to look out the window and across the forest lawn. A couple of people had entered the common room behind him, and he wanted to keep this as private as possible. He kept his voice low, but it was thick with emotion. 'That's more than you've said to me, Jim.'

'I mean,' Blair continued, sniffing again, struggling for a little composure, 'for a long time, all I got was silence, then a reluctance to talk about it and when you did, it was, you know, just something happening. We didn't get far down that road before you're talking about visiting and, and us having sex and ... and you never said a word to me about, about love. Look, Jim, just give me a minute here, okay?'

'Sure.'

Blair put the phone down on the table, ran next door into the men's room and ducked into a stall. He pulled off wads of paper, and leaned back against the door, gulping in air, fighting the meltdown. He so didn't need this right now and neither did Jim.

A few more deep breaths stopped the trembling. He splashed cold water on his face, dried it then headed back out to pick up the phone. The common room was empty once more. 'Hey,' he murmured softly.

'Hey,' came Jim's reply, equally intimate, his voice a little rough. 'You okay?'

'I'm sorry about that. I guess the last six months just caught up with me. And then Simon's email...'

'Chief, I don't know what to tell you. I can only apologize but I guess that's all starting to wear a little thin, huh? I really want this with you, but I'm just afraid that I'll fuck the whole thing up, like every other time I've tried to have a serious relationship.'

'Is that what we're having? A serious relationship?'

'I hope so.' Jim took a deep breath, 'Look, I shouldn't have started that whole thing about you know... sex. We kissed once, and you know ... while I ...um ... we both, well I was um...'

'Hard?' Blair supplied with a little smile, still charmed by Jim's shyness. Anything but admit they'd both been aching and desperate for each other.

He could almost hear Jim blush and that just made him smile more. 'Yeah, okay, Chief, don't rub it in. Oh fuck, I don't believe I just said that.' But there was laughter in his voice as well. 'The truth is, I have no idea about any of it. Do you?'

'Well, yeah, a little.'

'But I thought you hadn't...You've um, been with a guy before?'

Blair couldn't tell which made him smile more - the fear in Jim's voice, or the jealously. 'Well, yeah, kinda. Didn't want to blurt it out in an email.'

'Kinda? What does that mean?' The tone of Jim's voice rose a notch or two so Blair decided to put him out of his misery.

'I had a boyfriend once. For exactly one week. Years ago. I was an undergrad and he was a year older. I guess you could say it was a fairly typical bi-curiosity thing. For both of us. We spent a lot of time making out, and um, keeping our hands busy - but that was all. At the end of the week, we'd both satisfied our curiosity. We broke up and dived back into our single-minded pursuit of women.'

'I see.'

'It was a few years before I realised that our fumbling wasn't all there was to the whole male/male sex dynamic.'

'But by then you'd lost interest?'

'No. By then I'd met you. I was so wrapped up in the whole sentinel/cop/thesis/friendship thing, I think I kind of forgot there was that whole, hey Jim's really sexy thing. At least, I forgot until that morning we kissed.'

There was a long pause, then, 'That's what you meant when you said, oh no.'

'Yeah.'

This was followed by another long pause that Blair had to end. 'Hey, you're not going to tell me this makes a difference, are you?'

Jim snorted, 'God, no! Of course, not. I was just thinking about how guys think sex is so easy, so simple but once they get out into the real world, turns out it's anything but.'

'Man, that's pretty deep, even for you.'

Jim laughed a little, 'Yeah, well, you're rubbing off on me.'

Blair bit his tongue and refrained from making the obvious lewd comment - though it did conjure up the most delightful image. Instead, he took a breath. 'Look, I have to go. This call is costing me a packet and I'm about to lose the room. Call me when you can, okay?'

'Sure.'

'Take care of yourself.'

'I love you.'

Taking another deep breath, Blair nodded, 'I love you, too.'

The burst of voices behind him drowned out Jim's farewell, and then the connection was cut, leaving Blair dizzy, disorientated, relieved, horrified - and yet, preposterously elated. Even amongst all the fear about what was happening to Jim, he couldn't help the feeling of triumph. Jim loved him.

He was out the door and running down the dirt road before he could stop himself.

End Part Three

Part Four

Blair began calling out names, holding up a sheet of paper as each child came forth to collect it. He had to raise his voice to make sure it carried over the noise of the wind in the trees, and the constantly babbling brook only a few feet away. 'Now everybody's got a different assignment, so it's okay to help each other out. It's not a competition. Just read the questions on the sheet, and try to find the plant or insect that's described there. If the first clues don't help, go on to the next. You have twenty minutes and I don't want any talking unless it's about the project. Any questions?'

Lots of shaking heads left him satisfied they knew what they were doing. He walked away a little then, deliberately leaving them to their own devices - only, he didn't leave the side of the brook. Even kids as forest-smart as these could have an accident. He found a small moss-covered rock hidden by a corner of shade, and sat down on his jacket. Though fall was setting in now, and the nights were chilly, during the day he could get away with long sleeves and boots. But there was less rain here, and having the sauna made a difference to his tolerance of the cold. On the other hand, he was not looking forward to spending his first winter in Oregon. Maybe he wouldn't need to.

Then again, did that mean he didn't want to? He'd been here seven months now, and the truth was, he'd grown attached to these kids, to this place. The pine covered hills were exceptionally beautiful, and he'd spent some of the happiest hours of his life tramping up and down them. How incredible would it be in winter? What kind of wonderland would he wake up to the first morning after snow? The kid in him was still excited at the prospect, even as it shuddered at the thought of the cold. If only he had Jim here to keep him warm. If only he could be sure Jim was okay.

He'd heard nothing for more than a month now. The last time he'd called, Jim had suggested he keep his distance for a while, and though Blair didn't want to, he'd done as Jim had asked, though the silence was killing him. Jim had been concerned about how reliable his bug detection equipment was, and didn't want to risk any chance of the surveillance team finding out he knew where Blair was.

But the constant wondering, the pit of fear and worry that worked away in the depths of his belly, hours spent alone in his bungalow trying to remember the sound of Jim's voice was some days almost more than he could bear. Not an hour went by when he didn't think of Jim, and only the constant challenge of teaching drew his attention away from his worry. The only thing that kept him sane was knowing that if anything bad had happened, somebody would have let him know. So no news was good news. Didn't make the waiting any easier, though.

But more than any of that sometimes was the simple, horrible ache of missing Jim. The man had dominated his life in almost every respect for almost four years. He'd lost count of the times over the years when he'd woken in the middle of the night with some idea for a test or a solution to help Jim with his senses. No matter what he planned, no matter who he was dating, or what he was studying, everything he did had some connection to Jim in some way, shape or form - even if it was just down to simple questions like, would he have the loft to himself for the evening. And after all that time, when their lives had been so bound up together, he'd never once thought he didn't want to be there.

Now more than ever, he needed to be there and couldn't. But at least Jim wasn't alone in this; Blair could take some comfort in that. It meant a lot to him to know that Jim had friends who were willing to help him out, to stand by him at a time like this.

But missing him still hurt. Was Jim missing him, too? Or was he properly focused on his own life, trying to fix the mess it had become. Blair had no way of knowing anything now, no option of doing anything but wait.

But there were worse things he could do while he waited. If it wasn't for his constant worry about Jim, he could really begin to look on this place as a real home. Even his talks with Ralph and Peter had made him feel a lot better about things, though asking them about explicit details on sex in general, and intercourse in particular had been a real exercise in practicing everything Naomi had taught him about openness. The guys had been fantastic and they'd developed a close friendship as a result.

Sure, things could be better, but then they always had the ability to suddenly become a lot worse.

'Blair?'

He looked up to see Heather coming down the path towards him. They were far enough from the commune village now to feel absolutely isolated - which is why he'd picked this spot. 'What's up?'

Heather waited until she was a little closer, obviously not wanting to shout with the children busily at work. 'You have a visitor.'

Blair frowned. 'For me?' Was it Jim? Could it be? He could hardly hear her response over the sudden thudding of his heart.

'That's right,' Heather nodded patiently.

'They give a name?'

'No, but I can tell you that he's tall, very good looking and appeared to have come a long way to see you. So don't you think perhaps you should go and see him?' Heather was almost bouncing on the balls of her feet.

'But I still have this class...'

'It's the last of the day, isn't it?'

'Sure,' Blair could hardly concentrate, and he knew it showed. Heather wasn't fooled at all and just grinned at him. 'Um, just collect the sheets when they're done. They have about ten minutes left to work on them. After that, they can go home. Thanks!'

Blair squeezed her hand with a smile and was running up the hill before Heather had time to raise her eyebrows.

He took huge steps up the incline, cutting across the corner in the path as he'd told his pupils not to. He ran all the way, reveling in how his body was building up real strength after six months living in the hills. He'd never really considered it before, but it felt great. There's no way he could go back to being a couch potato.

He couldn't think about this. Didn't dare. He could hardly breathe with anticipation, but he didn't dare think who this visitor might be.

Finally he reached the school building, and slowed to a walk. There was still another five minutes before he arrived at the Reception Centre - though he couldn't see the truck parked out front. Only a sedan he didn't recognize.

He paused outside the door, gathering himself a moment. If it wasn't Jim - and god, how he hoped it was - then he needed to be ready for the disappointment. If it was, and Jim wasn't alone, or it was ... well, somebody else, somebody who shouldn't be there, then he also needed to be ready.

Blair pushed the door open and stepped inside the warm, honey-coloured Commune Reception Centre. There were two men inside, only one of whom he recognized. Because of that, he schooled his face and said nothing until they turned around.

'Blair!'

'Hey, Steven.' Blair strode forward and shook the hand held out to him. Deliberately pushing aside the disappointment, though it wasn't easy.

'It's good to see you. Sorry I'm not ... you know. Um,' Steven pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and glanced at his companion. 'This is my driver. I flew into Sacramento and have to get back there tonight. Is there somewhere he can get a cup of coffee while we talk?'

'Sure.' Blair turned to the guy, pointing out the window at a log cabin just across the path. 'That's the refectory. There's coffee and tea in there all day. Just help yourself.'

'Thanks,' the driver nodded, and left them alone.

'You look well,' Steven nodded. 'The mountain air agrees with you, I see.'

'Sure does. Do you want to walk around, have a look at the place?'

'I'd love to.'

Blair took him outside, then chose a path taking them away from the main Commune buildings. It wound past the lake and sauna, then up to a hill where there was a fantastic view of both the valley, and the rest of the commune. 'How's Jim?'

'He's good. A lot better. He finally had the formal review.'

Blair's heart leapt into his mouth. 'What happened?'

'There were a couple of questions the Commissioner felt still hadn't been answered adequately. One was seeing Danny Choi's killer from five hundred yards away. The other was Lee Bracket.'

'Oh, fuck!'

'It's okay, they didn't get to read whatever Bracket had to say on the matter. I guess he kept his mouth shut, or the file's been sealed. Either way, there was just the question about why Bracket chose to target you and Jim for that job.'

'What did Jim say?'

'Why should he know why that madman picked on the two of you? All he did know was that you were blackmailed into helping Bracket and that fortunately, between the two of you, you were able to outwit him.'

Blair could almost hear Jim saying exactly that.

'And he admitted that though he was sure he saw Tommy Juno's face from 500 yards away, on reflection he knows it was probably just wishful thinking.'

Blair paused on the track, turning to face Steven. 'So ... basically they believed him because the truth still sounded like a lie? They weren't able to find any actual evidence.'

'No, no evidence at all.' Steven nodded, half a smile on his face reminding Blair so much of his older brother it hurt. 'The Commissioner has formally thanked Jim for his patience and understanding and things have finally returned to normal.'

'Thank god!'

'Jim would have called you, but he's still got questions about surveillance. He's thinking of moving back to the loft in the next couple of weeks, but he has to move the electronics first.'

'What kind of questions?'

'He's being followed. He found a bug in his phone at work. That kind of thing.'

'Media?'

'No. He thinks you were right about some Agency having an interest in him.'

Shit! Blair bit his bottom lip and glanced down at his feet. This was even worse than the investigation. This kind of surveillance could only be a bad thing. 'Has anybody approached him?'

'Not yet, no.'

'Man, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid!'

'I know. He knows. I'm sorry it worked out like it has. I'm sorry you had to lose so much.'

'I didn't lose as much as you think I did.' Blair began walking again. 'At least, I hope I haven't.'

They walked for a while as Steven looked around. 'This place is just beautiful! I'm not surprised you like it here. How's the teaching?'

Blair dragged his attention back to Jim's brother, forcing himself to smile, to relax and remember that nothing bad had actually happened yet, and his worries, and his ability to anticipate was only going to make things worse.

He took a deep breath. 'The teaching's great. It's a pleasant change to be talking to kids who want to listen. To be honest, I think I prefer it.'

'Ever thought about becoming a father, yourself?'

'Yeah,' Blair deadpanned without missing a beat, 'but can you imagine having to listen to Jim bitch about being in labour?'

Steven came to a halt, eyes wide in horror and then he burst out laughing and Blair joined in. 'Sorry. Wasn't thinking.'

They walked in silence for a few minutes then, just absorbing the beauty around them, stopping only when they reached the lookout. The valley wasn't too far below them, but at this time of the day, it was bathed in sunshine, leaving the shade of the trees above almost unnaturally dark. Steven sat down on the log bench but Blair stayed close to the cliff, hands on the railing he'd helped build.

'Jim didn't send you here to tell me all this, did he?' When Steven didn't answer immediately, he turned around, leaning back against the railing, crossing his arms in front of him. 'Well?'

With a sigh, Steven shrugged, lacing his fingers together. 'Jim wanted you to know, and didn't dare trust it even to snail mail - but you're right, that's not why I'm here. Since he can't come himself, and I had to come to Sacramento anyway, he asked me to talk to you face to face.'

Blair felt icy tendrils of fear slip through him and steeled himself, lifting his chin. 'He wants to end it, doesn't he?'

Steven paused a moment, then shook his head. 'Not exactly. He wants you to end it.'

'What?' Blair frowned. 'Why would I do that?'

Pulling in a breath, Steven got to his feet and joined Blair by the railing. 'Look, I'm the messenger, okay? I don't agree with what he wants me to tell you, so I'm just going to say it. It's been seven months since you last saw each other. With everything else that's happened, there's been only three phone calls and a few emails. He doesn't dare leave Cascade for fear somebody will follow him here and he refuses to allow you to go to him for the same reasons. He said this Agency thing might never go away no matter how long he waits. Basically, what this all means is that not only can Jim not visit now, he might not be able to for months. Possibly years.'

Blair just stared at the man, unwilling, and for a moment, unable to begin to comprehend what he was hearing. A hideous weight was pushing down on his chest and he had to look away just so he could force himself to breathe.

Steven gave him a moment, then continued. 'He loves you, Blair. He wanted me to tell you that. He doesn't want to let you go, but he doesn't feel he has the right to hold on to you when he might never be free of this. He said you should go out and ... find that pretty girl. Rebuild your life. Move on. He doesn't want you to lose any more over this. He said ... that you'd already sacrificed enough. That this thing between you is too new to be worth holding on to. He wants you to end it and go on with your life.'

'Tell me,' Blair's voice came out hard, as hard as the thought itself. 'Is this because he's ... he's found someone else?'

'Good god, no! Trust me, Blair, if that was true, I'd tell you - and kick his ass.'

'Okay,' Blair nodded, believing, not yet sure if that made it better or not.

Blair watched as Steven turned away, ostensibly to gaze out at the view, but he didn't speak for a moment; too many thoughts whirling through his head stopped any of them from emerging. Once they'd calmed though, he voiced the most important of them. 'What about his senses? Are they okay?'

'They've settled down completely since those problems in the beginning. He says even those weren't too bad-'

'Which means they were but he doesn't want anyone to worry.'

'True - but like I said, I've been living with him and I've seen no evidence of any further problems. Since he hasn't been using them at work, it's not really been a problem.'

'Yeah, but he's using them to check up on the guys following him.' Blair murmured.

He couldn't do this. He simply couldn't stand here and let this man's words pull him apart. It had been so long since he'd seen Jim. Not one single day had gone by without some thought or memory of Jim brightening his mood. And that kiss, the one that had told them so much and yet, taken so much away from them. Had they really had a choice about it? Could he have just seen that all-consuming love in Jim's eyes, and fled before they'd devoured each other?

But in that moment, the difference between thought and action had been so infinitesimal both had missed it. So, no, the kiss, like everything that had happened since, had been inevitable.

Just as this ending was. He should have seen it coming. Jim had always been noble to the point of absurdity - and that's what this was: absurd. Blair had sacrificed his lifelong dreams to save Jim, so that he wouldn't have to suffer exactly this kind of examination. So that he and Jim would be able to remain friends. Now even that was falling apart - without even taking into account the other fledgling relationship.

'He wanted me to give you something,' Steven's soft voice slid into his thoughts, breaking them up. 'He gave me very specific instructions. He said that the only reason I get to do this is because I'm his brother, and there's a ... genetic connection.'

'What is it?' Blair murmured, half afraid.

'This.' Steven came close, and pulled Blair into a hug almost as huge as the last one Jim had given him. Steven was even wearing Jim's favorite aftershave, and the same soft cotton shirt Jim liked so much.

Blair held on, breathing deeply, feeling a strength that wasn't his to borrow. But he didn't let go, he couldn't. He'd never be able to let go. Apart from the occasional light friendly touches from his kids, and those living here, this was really the first time anybody had touched him in seven months. It was tearing him apart, but he still didn't let go and Steven didn't make him.

And then finally, his arms dropped, and Steven stood back, his face full of concern and genuine caring. Steven had come so far in his relationship with Jim over the last couple of years and now he was here, prepared to deliver a message that he knew would hurt both his brother and Blair. But he did it so gently, Blair could only reach up, touch the side of his face in thanks before turning away.

His hands gripped the railing, holding on to the only thing that had kept him sane for the last four years. Ironically, it was now insane for him to do so, but that didn't stop him. In truth, nothing would.

'When do you go back?'

'I have a couple of meetings in Sacramento tomorrow. So, I'll be back home Wednesday.'

'Good. Would you tell Jim something for me?'

'Sure.'

'Tell him I said no.'

'No?'

'That's right.' Blair paused to gulp in a breath. No way was he going to let tears get him this time, damnit. 'Steven, I really appreciate you doing this, coming all the way out here, saying all this stuff, allowing yourself to be pushed in the middle of this. I can just imagine how it's been for you over the last six months and I'm really glad he's had you there, that he's trusted you. But I want you to tell Jim this.' He turned back to Steven, his shoulders square and set, 'My answer is a flat no. If he wants to end it, he has to come here and do it and it's not over until he does. He's Black Ops trained. There's no way he can't get out of Cascade without being seen. I'll meet him somewhere if he wants - but I am not going to take the coward's way out of this and he should be ashamed for suggesting it!'

He came to a halt, his breathing harsh in his own ears. 'I'm sorry. You know I'm not yelling at you, right?'

Steven smiled, shaking his head a little. 'I wouldn't be stupid enough to put myself in such a position.'

'Then explain it to your brother for me will you?'

'Word for word.'

'Good. Thanks.' Blair couldn't help feeling a little ashamed himself, but Steven was pointedly not taking it all personally. 'You've, um, taken all this really well. Were you, er...'

'Surprised that Jim was in love with a man? Sure. It shocked the hell out of me. I mean, he's not exactly the stereotype, is he?'

'Stereotypes are only one type.'

'Well, obviously. Truth is,' Steven pushed his hands back in his pockets as they returned to the path back to the Reception Centre, 'if we hadn't already rebuilt our relationship before he'd told me, I'm not sure how I would've reacted.'

'But you accepted it.'

Steven just shrugged.

Blair glanced away, back over the village, a place that had begun to feel like home for him. 'You know he's gonna be pissed. He'll blame you, that you didn't make his position clear. You didn't try hard enough to get me to break up with him.'

'Oh, don't worry. I can handle him. Actually, I was kind of hoping you would say something like that.'

'You were?'

'Yeah.' Steven stepped forward and swept him up in another hug, brief this time. 'This one's from me.' He backed away towards the car, a grin on his face. 'I'll tell him what you said. Good luck.'

'Thank you, Steven.'

With a wave, Jim's brother climbed into the car, and Blair stood there watching as it pulled out and onto the dirt road leading away from the commune. In two days, Steven would be back with Jim - and Blair did nothing to stop the wave of envy which swept through him.

When there was no sign of the car left, not even a cloud of dust, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply, grasping hold of the anger, the frustration, the hurt and loneliness until he could almost feel them in his fist. For a moment, they welled up inside him, almost overwhelming him, drowning him. Then he remembered Jim's smile, Jim's voice on the phone - and yes, Jim's incredible kiss. With that came the memory that it was Jim's life that was falling apart here, not Blair's. That Jim was just doing what he needed to in order to survive.

Well, so could Blair. Another deep breath brought the desolation under control once more. He opened his eyes and turned away, heading back to the school. He had papers to mark, and a class to prepare.

Heather was right - he was stronger than he'd thought he was.

End Part Four

Part Five

'Here.' Steven held out a beer to his brother, waited until he took it, then returned to his seat. The garden looked great from this angle on the deck, even though most of the flowers were already gone, and a substantial sprinkling of leaves were making a mess of his tidy green lawn. Of course, they wouldn't lie there long. Jim was just anal enough to be out there every day with the rake, keeping himself busy.

'I thought I made myself clear,' Jim began. He sat on a chair on the other side of the table. Elbows on his knees, bottle resting between his hands. 'I told you to make sure he understood. I explained to you how important it was that you make him see that there's just no future in this. Why couldn't you do that, damnit? Why? You think I wanted him upset for nothing?'

Jim sprang to his feet, pacing up and down a bit, swallowing beer at the end of every turn. Steven watched him for a while, then returned to the contemplation of his garden.

'Are you even listening to me?' Jim snapped.

'What do you want me to say?'

'Did you tell him that I wanted it over?'

'No.'

'Well, why the hell not?'

'Because that's not what you said. You told me - specifically - that you wanted him to end it. You wanted him to make that choice. Well, I gave him the choice and he said no.' Steven shrugged. 'Don't shoot the messenger, Jim. If you think you can do a better job, you're welcome to try.'

'If I had a choice in the matter...'

'You do.'

'Hell, Steven, do we have to go over all this again? I'm being tailed! I don't want Blair involved. This thing could take years to die down. I don't want his life put at risk again! He deserves to have a life - a good life, and he's got a chance for that now. I can't and won't expect him to wait forever. I don't want him making any more sacrifices for me. Why is that so hard for you to understand?'

'Actually,' Steven paused, took a mouthful of beer and sat back. 'It's not so hard to understand at all, and I would take it all very seriously if I could be sure that was the only thing going on here.'

Jim spread his arms wide in bafflement. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Jim, sit down. I'm not going to talk to you if you're just going to shout.' For a second, he thought his brother might walk out instead, but after a moment, Jim shook his head, pulled up a chair, slapped his beer bottle on the table and grunted.

'Go ahead. Tell me. I'm sure there's some incredibly deep wisdom I'm missing, so feel free. Because, you know, I'm having a ball here.'

Steven ignored the sarcasm and leaned forward, deliberately leaving his voice low because he knew this was going to bite. 'Jim, you kissed the guy once. Just once. Then he left. For some reason, you think that means you're in love with him. He dumped you in this mess, then ran out and left you to deal with it. You really think that means he loves you? It's not like he's even a pretty girl you could marry some day.'

'I thought you were okay with all that.'

'I'm not homophobic, if that's what you mean. But come on, Jim - a guy? You're not gay, and I hate seeing you trying to convince yourself you are just 'cause you feel you owe Sandburg for the help he gave you with your senses. Why should you go on protecting him while he's living it up on his hippy commune? He's free, Jim. He's got you on a string and he's never going to let it go while you play up to him.'

Jim's face was frozen with shock and disbelief. But Steven didn't give him time to recover. 'How long are you going to keep hiding from these bastards? You know they're not going to go away unless you give them Sandburg. From where I'm sitting, the only thing you really learned from Sandburg was how to run from your problems. I'm surprised Dad isn't laughing in your face.'

Jim's eyes widened.

'Somehow you've managed to convince yourself that you love him. But let's face it, that's just guilt that he had to give up his doctorate - even though that press conference was all his idea, and his fault you got caught up in that mess in the first place.'

'His fault.' Jim murmured, moving a little at last.

Steven sat back, letting his words move in for the kill. 'Look, the reason Dad was always so pissed that you didn't follow him into the business is because you have the same killer instinct that he has. You fight for what you want and you make sure you get it. You did it with the army, the PD, even this sentinel stuff. I'm your brother, Jim. You can't fool me. I know full well that if you actually loved Sandburg you'd be pulling the arms off these guys following you. You sure wouldn't be letting this all drag on unless it just gave you a cover to get Blair to leave you alone. But he just told me he won't. It's okay, Jim, I didn't say anything about this to him. I played along. But come on, enough is enough, right? They want him, let them have him. Meet him somewhere, and if you get followed, well, that's life. At least you'll be free. I mean, I know he's offered to come and everything, but if he really loved you, would he just leave you holding the baby and do nothing to help? Get real, Jim. Sandburg has to face his share in this too.'

Jim continued to stare at him a moment longer, then sat back, jaw working hard in near silence. Then abruptly he stood and headed back inside. Steven saw him pick up his jacket and keys.

'Where are you going - in case Sandburg calls?'

'Out.'

'Will you be back for dinner?'

'No!' Jim left, slamming the door behind him.

Alone, Steven settled into his chair, took another long mouthful of beer and returned to gazing at his garden.

Jim drove straight to the loft, aware all the way of the car following behind. Though his blood pumped so hard through his body he wanted to slam his foot on the gas and run every red light, he kept hold of his anger long enough to get to the parking garage in one piece.

He bounded up the stairs three at a time, pulled out his keys, stormed inside and slammed the door behind him.

The place was musty after so long being empty. There was dust everywhere, but for the first time, he didn't give a damn. Instead, he stormed straight into Sandburg's room and pulled out the boxes he'd left there, containing the last of his belongings. One after the other he pushed out into the living room. From the kitchen, he pulled out tape and blade, from the coffee table, note pad and pen. He scribbled out the note, didn't bother signing it, then shoved it into the top of the first box he came to. Then the loft was filled with the screeching noise of tape coming off the reel, sealing up the boxes ready for transport.

There were empty boxes left under the stairs. He grabbed two of those, hauled some books off the shelf at random, tossed them into the boxes, then taped those up as well. He'd need them for cover.

He stepped outside long enough to call the elevator, using one of the boxes to hold the door open, while he transferred the others in. He locked up the loft, then took the boxes down and loaded them into the back of the truck, leaving the half-empty two to one side. Without bothering to check if he was being followed, he drove to the station.

With the help of a couple of uniforms, he got all but the two boxes loaded into the lift and up to Major Crimes, where he stacked them by the wall. Done, he strode into Simon's office, shutting the door behind him.

'Jim? What's up? Aren't you off today?'

'Yep. Cleaning out some old mess. There's some boxes out there I need to send to Sandburg. I need your permission to send them out with the mail. I figure they'll get buried in the normal pickup and nobody will notice them. The mail room can let me know how much to pay. Is that okay?'

Simon frowned and obviously wanted to ask more - but Jim just held up his hands.

'Sure, that's okay. Jim, are you-'

But Jim didn't stay around long enough to answer.

He had a few more errands to make, and some phone calls he made from a phone on the fourth floor, in the office of a Captain who was away on leave.

Then he set out again. He drove to the worst part of town, picked a bar at random and buried himself in a bottle of whiskey.

'Blair?'

He looked up from his lunch to find Heather coming towards him with guy in a mailman's uniform waiting by the door to the refectory. 'What's up?'

'There's a delivery for you. Some boxes. The gentleman wants to know where to put them.'

'Boxes?' He wasn't expecting anything, hadn't ordered anything. 'Oh, well, sure.' Frowning, he followed her outside to where the man waited with a trolley and three boxes stacked on top of it. 'This way.'

He led the mailman along the path until he reached his bungalow. He opened the door and stood to one side as the guy stacked them in the sitting room. 'Any more?'

'Another four.'

'I'll give you a hand.' Blair followed him back to the truck, helped load three more and took the fourth one himself, none the wiser as to what this was about. When the last one was unloaded in his sitting room, he signed the guy's form and shut the door behind him.

There was no return address on the boxes, and they'd come through the normal mail. He didn't even recognize the handwriting on the address. He stared at the boxes for a few moments, still confused - until he noticed some words in his own handwriting scrawled on the side of one box. Abruptly, an icy thread of fear trickled down inside him.

Jim. He'd sent them. This was the last of his stuff from the loft. They'd packed it up together and now Jim was sending it back to him, taking away the last, flimsy reason he had to return to Cascade.

'Oh, Jesus, no, Jim. Don't do this!' He sank onto a chair, twisted his fingers together, unable to take his eyes from the boxes. So Steven hadn't got through to him. All the words, all the effort, all these months - and it turns out Jim really did want him out of his life.

He couldn't let this happen - but what the hell was he supposed to do now?

He should never have left Cascade. Jim hadn't wanted him to go, and if he'd stayed, if he'd tried harder to make a go of it, then maybe they wouldn't have had that moment by the door, frantically trying to hold onto something that suddenly meant so much more. Obviously it didn't to Jim - at least, not any more. But it was too damned late now. He'd burned his bridges, and Jim had pulled down the ruins. There was nothing left.

He got up, went into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He couldn't close his eyes, because if he did, the sudden emptiness would swallow him whole.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end. How could Jim not know that? How could he not believe that Blair loved him, that they were in love with each other? Hadn't it been so obvious? Hadn't it been the only thing they were absolutely sure of?

He'd had seven months to think about it. Seven long months without Jim in his daily life to cast his mind back over the years, to find the trail that had led inexorably towards love. So many tiny little things, so many huge things, all of them equally important and utterly undeniable. They hadn't seen it at the time - but then, they'd been so very close to it, already so bound up in each other. There had always been other, desperately important things to worry about - not the least of which had been the effect his dissertation had had on their friendship. So they hadn't seen it, but basically, the moment they had, their first, automatic reaction had been to grasp for it, to hold onto it, to appreciate how damned important it was to both of them.

And now Jim wanted it over. What little they'd had of this ... this romance, was now done. Jim wanted him out of his life. He'd said so with a simple delivery.

Blair couldn't even remember what was in the boxes. His journals and all his sentinel material was in Jim's safe deposit box in his father's bank. They'd all made sure it was totally secure after everything had happened. And after seven months away, he'd not missed anything important of his belongings, so whatever was in the boxes couldn't be that valuable.

He should have sent them back. Would have if he'd realised what they were. Send Jim the only kind of message he would understand.

But maybe it was too late for messages. Maybe it was too late for anything.

After all, it was now more than seven months since they'd seen each other, countless weeks since they'd even spoken. At what point would their connection degrade to where it was utterly unviable? All relationships deteriorated with separation, and theirs had already been through so much in the last year. And now Jim thought there was nothing more worth fighting for.

And if he didn't - why should Blair? How long could he go on fighting on his own? What was the point in fighting if Jim really didn't want him - and these boxes were the last word on that score.

He did close his eyes finally, unable to face seeing them sitting there in the next room, a constant reminder of his failure, of not only a friendship, but a love that in the end, hadn't been strong enough to withstand anything.

A sob welled up in him then, and he rolled onto his side, away from them, burying his face in the covers. Jim might have given up, but that didn't mean Blair would stop loving him. That much at least he knew was impossible.

He woke to a gentle knock on the door. Bleary-eyed, he pushed his hair out of his face and stumbled to his feet. Studiously ignoring the boxes, he went through to open the door. Tom stood there, a concerned smile on his face.

'Are you okay?'

'Oh, shit, what time is it?'

'A little after four. It's okay, we postponed the meeting till Monday. Heather thought you weren't well. Are you sick?'

'Um,' Blair swallowed, not wanting to lie, but it was simply beyond him at this moment to even address the overwhelming desolation he felt. 'No. My um, my boyfriend just dumped me.'

'Oh, shit, Blair. I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do?'

'Can I borrow your baseball bat?'

His friend managed a little smile at that, no more than an appreciation of Blair's attempt at humour. 'If you need to talk or anything, you know we're all here for you. Try and take it easy, okay?'

'Yeah. Thanks, Tom.'

As his friend took off back down the path, Blair shut the door behind him, closing himself off from the warmth and comfort he might have received from friends he genuinely cared about. But it was all meaningless now anyway. He couldn't stay here. He only had two choices left to him. Leave the country - or go back to Cascade. Since going back to Cascade was out of the question, that left him only one option.

He rummaged in a drawer for his pocketknife and turned to the first box, a mild curiosity and a desire to stop moping making him slice the first layer of tape. He got the box open and peered inside, finding a few books, some masks and other things from his travels. He pushed the box aside and opened the next one. More books and a few sweaters piled on top. The next one held course notes he'd used teaching anthropology and he set those aside to donate to the school. He had no desire to even look at them again. The next one was full of old shoes and clothes he'd meant to discard before he left Cascade, but somehow, they'd ended up in the pile to keep. With two remaining, he went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He swallowed half of it before he could face the rest.

With a vicious swipe, he opened up the second last box - and stopped. A single sheet of paper, covered with Jim's handwriting - though it was unsigned. Carefully, he put down the knife and bottle and with both hands, lifted the page, turning it towards the light. It was short, brief and to the point and sent his emotions tumbling.

Meet me. Motel on the east bound road out of Dryesdale. The Westwood Inn. Take a room for the night of the 16th. Get there before 8pm. I'll be in after 10. Make sure the curtains are closed. We need to talk.

Blair had slumped to the floor before he realised his legs had given way. What the hell did this mean? Had Jim returned the boxes as an excuse to get a message to him? If he was breaking it off, surely the boxes alone would have done the job.

So why did he still want to meet?

Blair sprang to his feet, rummaging through his desk for a calendar and map. The sixteenth was tomorrow. The boxes had taken so long to get here, he almost had no time to prepare. Dryesdale was on the coast, about three hours' drive from here. Without pausing, he read the note again, twice, then carefully traced a route to Dryesdale, and an alternative, just to be on the safe side.

With that, he folded the note up, slipped it inside his shirt, and headed out the door. He had to get Tom to loan him a car and then he had to pack.

It got dark long before Blair reached Dryesdale, and after a few wrong turns, he finally found the Westwood Inn. It was just after seven, so he was early, but then Jim wouldn't be here for at least three hours. He pulled in, got a room and drove to park the borrowed car in front of number 12.

As motels went, it actually wasn't too bad. A little better than the average, with fresh paint on the walls, a refurbished bathroom and clean crisp sheets on the bed. Even the TV was working, and he found himself switching it on, experiencing that familiar weirdness after spending so long away from it.

He got bored quickly and decided to have a shower. He'd stopped to eat in town, but the food hadn't gone down willingly, and so he bought a couple of bottles of juice instead, sipping on them as he wandered around the room, doing his best not to look at the clock, doing his best not to think.

He hadn't slept since reading the note yesterday. Sitting still was just as impossible. But as the minutes wore on, dizziness began to overtake him and he settled down on the bed, leaving the TV on softly in the background, some semblance of company to ward off the intense loneliness now ready to suffocate him.

Somewhere along the line, his brain finally switched off, and he drifted into asleep.

Jim parked his rental car in an unlit side street, and after spending a moment in the shadows, he slipped down a narrow alley and emerged beside an all-night diner. With his senses sweeping the area, he sauntered into the diner and ordered a coffee, choosing a seat where he could see out but not easily be seen from outside.

His coffee arrived and he turned his attention to the Westwood Inn across the road. He was already an hour late, but as much as he just wanted to get inside, his impatience was swallowed up by the pressing need to be careful still.

He was sure he hadn't been followed. He'd mapped a zigzag route from Cascade, changing clothes three times, switching cars twice, booking into motels under one name, leaving in the middle of the night and taking another. But still he sat and drank his coffee in silence, watching the Motel, letting his hearing identify which of the rooms were occupied, and which was mostly likely to contain Blair.

Of course, the Volvo was nowhere to be seen. That had surprised him when he first sat down - but after all Jim's problems, Sandburg would have known not to drive his own car to a clandestine meeting.

The waitress came to refresh his coffee, but instead he stood, paid and headed out into the street where the air was cold and biting, more real than any he'd felt before.

There was no traffic to watch for, so alone and unobserved, he kept to the shadows and walked across the road, turning into the Motel and only stopping when he reached the door of number 12. He paused long enough to make sure Sandburg was alone. He could hear the TV going, and the steady, even breaths of sleep.

His fingers shook as he turned the handle silently, slipping inside with a last glance at the road. If anybody had followed him this far, then he was far more skilled than Jim could ever hope to be. He locked the door, pulled the chain across then finally turned.

Blair stared at him, eyes wide and unspeakably happy. 'Jim?'

Jim gasped in air, suddenly unable to breathe. How could he have not known he'd react like this? How could he have been so blind? His response came out like a whispered prayer, sending shockwaves through his whole body. 'Blair.'

The younger man rose off the bed slowly, his hair a mess, eyes still a little sleepy. He stood there a moment, simply watching Jim, as though this might only be a cruel dream. Then he moved forward, just as Jim moved and before he had time to even think about it, he found his arms full of Blair, hair and scent drifting over him, sensations too old and too tangled to unravel wrapping themselves around him, imprisoning him and freeing him all at the same time.

Blair felt so damned good to hold. So solid, so wonderfully, incredibly here. So unlike the dreams he'd had almost every night for the last seven months. They'd been right to believe in this, so very right. This was the most real thing he'd experienced in his entire life.

Blair was moving, squeezing him hard then lifting up his head to frame Jim's face in his hands, touching, remembering, communicating with his whole body that everything Jim was feeling, he too was feeling. Blair gazed at him a moment, then brought their mouths together.

The kiss seared Jim's brain, frying up every thought he'd ever had. Blair's mouth a world in which he wanted to live and forget all others. He pulled the man impossibly closer, diving in deeper, forgetting all about the need to breathe as it was buried in the need to climb inside Blair and stay there.

He felt moisture on his cheeks, not knowing and not caring whose it was. They parted only long enough to gasp in air, then closed the gap again, kissing deeper, tasting, feeling the heat, letting it be enough to drive them on.

Without even thinking, he began undoing the buttons on Blair's shirt, pulling it off him to toss away, then Blair was tugging at his jacket, their mouths still attached, whimpers and moans of need filling the air, drowning out the TV. He let Blair go long enough to pull his sweater off over his head, then moaned again when they touched skin to skin for the first time.

There was no question about whether they were going to make love. He'd thought there'd need to be words spoken first, understanding reached, but wasn't love the ultimate form of communication? Was it possible they could each say all they needed to with their bodies alone?

More desperate fumbling, spiked with glistening hot kisses, resulted in them falling naked onto the bed, tangled in each other in every way, rolling around feeling heat and hardness undeniable and immediate. Jim couldn't stop breathing in Blair's scent, and he found Blair's mouth on his throat and neck, taking in what he could, too, his body responding with urgent, needy thrusts against Jim.

He'd learned what to do, knew how to make it happen, but he wasn't alone. His hands were joined by Blair's, slick and preparing, a condom appearing out of nowhere, and then he laid Blair back, opened his legs wide and slid into him, joining them with a moan echoed from the depths of solitary hell. Tears slipped from Blair's eyes as Jim began to thrust deep, as Blair hissed and moved with him, arching his back, their joining a primal ballet that excluded the entire universe and left them to each other.

It was slow, this first fuck; their desperate urgency having spent itself simply to get here, to this place, with one inside the other, where there was nothing more between them, nothing separating them. He dived down for one kiss after another, Blair reaching up to touch him, his face, his mouth, spread his fingers over Jim's chest, down to caress himself. Blair breathed out each time Jim withdrew, inhaled every time he thrust back in, slowly building the heat, keeping them there, joined and together, holding the moment until it became almost unbearable. He shifted only to join his hand to Blair's to make his pleasure theirs, each stroke in time with each of his thrusts.

Blair's eyes glowed almost black with desire, his mouth open a little, breathing hard and heavy, letting out soft noises of a need neither of them had ever expressed. Jim answered him with grunts urged up from the depths of his throat, uncontrollable and undeniable, the intensity of the pleasure he felt inside Blair almost too much for him. Jim knew it couldn't last, but tried, slowing down even more, holding himself deep inside this man, until he had to move again. But each thrust only complicated things more, drove Blair further into madness, pushing down against each new entry, grasping him, wrapping his legs around Jim to gain more of him, hold more of him inside.

And then abruptly time froze, stopping completely, starting again only when Jim thrust deep inside once more, hard, and with another primal moan, he climaxed, setting off Blair's to fill his hand with beautiful cream. It lasted a long time, and nowhere near long enough. Their eyes remained on each other throughout, until, all passion spent, Jim collapsed onto him, finding loving arms wrapped around him, loving him, not letting go.

The TV whispered in the background as the rest of the motel room luxuriated in silence. Blair was tempted to reach over and turn it off, but that would mean moving, and he wasn't sure he could with a few hundred pounds of sated sentinel wrapped around him. Besides, the noise would help hide what they did and said in here, though of course, so far words had been almost non-existent - unless you counted grunts begging for more, harder and deeper.

He closed his eyes again, not wanting to sleep now that Jim was with him. Though Jim didn't move, Blair could tell from his breathing that he, too was wide awake. Blair was sure they both thought they needed to talk, but it seemed they'd said all they'd needed to.

Jim's hand moved on him, sliding down his chest, brushing fingers over his nipple ring, toying with it lightly before moving on into the sticky evidence of their lovemaking. Again Jim toyed lightly, as though idly experiencing new tactile sensations for the first time. Wanting to watch, Blair turned his head, only to have his mouth captured by Jim's, a soul-steeling kiss that only grew deeper, drawing them once more into insanity. In the hour or so since the last time, Blair had steadily grown harder, and found to his surprise, Jim in the same condition. He pressed them together, grinding hard, allowing them to fall into a rhythm until Jim pulled away, reaching over him for another condom and more lube. He rolled the condom on Blair then reached behind himself to take care of preparation. Then he turned on his side until he could present himself against Blair's readiness.

The entry was careful, and Blair took his time, touching and kissing, saying nothing. Jim held onto him, pushing back now and then, holding still at other times. Blair gained full penetration, but the delightfully slow pace of their first fuck had vanished in the wake of this needy, desperate coupling. He held on to Jim's hip with one hand, felt his hardness with the other as they rocked together faster and faster, moans louder now than the first time, noise far greater than any the TV could drown out.

The heat drove him on, coasting on a wave of erotic sensations he could never have imagined. Jim lay in front of him, urging him to deeper contact, his body jerking with need, his hand reaching behind and pulling Blair closer. Madness followed. Frantic thrusts, desperate lust, a desire which rose and rose until, with a hoarse cry from both of them, it crested and fell, flooding both with juices spilled in love.

Exhausted, Blair could hardly move beyond pulling air into his tortured lungs. Not that he wanted to move. He was softening though and soon the contact would be broken, though not lost. In the end, it was Jim who shifted, holding the condom in place as Blair slid free. It was he who removed it and tossed into the trash. Then he laid down again, half his body covering Blair's, his whole mouth taking kisses soft and sweet. When, for the moment, he'd had his fill, he laid his head down on Blair's chest, his breaths tangling in the light hairs.

'Did you know,' Jim whispered after a moment, 'back then, that it would feel like this?'

Blair couldn't help but smile. 'No. Did you?'

'Had no idea. If I had, I'd never have let you go.'

'I would never have gone.'

Jim nodded a little, pressed a kiss to the nearest nipple and settled again into the silence. Blair allowed it to fill them, making no effort at all to look for more words. There was only one language they needed now, and they'd discovered tonight, that they were both fluent in it.

The first sprinkle of birdsong outside finally disturbed their silent peace. With a moan, Jim rose a little, reached over for the remote and switched off the TV. He returned to Blair, kissed him lightly and said the words Blair dreaded.

'I have to go. Before it gets light.'

Blair said nothing, simply allowing his gaze to drift over Jim's face, memorizing it, the form, the shape, the tenderness in his eyes. Then he nodded.

Jim rolled off him then, heading for the bathroom. Blair listened to the shower and got up to watch through the glass partition, not wanting Jim out of his eyesight any longer than necessary. He watched the man cover himself with soap, rinse it off, then gingerly feel behind himself to where, only a few hours ago, Blair had taken his virginity, reminding him of the ache remaining from his own similar loss. Jim knew he was being watched, and glanced up with a slightly embarrassed smile before finishing off his shower. Blair stayed with him, ignoring his own nakedness as Jim pulled on his clothes, picked up his keys and looked around the room as though hoping he could find a viable excuse to stay longer - perhaps forever.

Blair approached him from behind, wrapping his arms around Jim's waist, pressing his face against the cloth of the jacket, breathing in Jim's own scent. He wanted promises, but knew he couldn't ask for them. He needed assurances, but knew they'd be empty. Jim held onto his hands for a moment, then turned in his embrace and once again they lost themselves in kisses that took them away on their own private journey.

But it would be light soon, and somewhere deep in his sentinel genes, Jim knew he was running out of time, his urgency finally communicating itself to Blair. With a final press of his lips, Blair stepped back. Jim gazed at him, then let his eyes wander down Blair's body, feasting for a moment. Then the eyes rose again. He said nothing, just nodded a little, then he turned for the door, unlocked it, and was gone.

End Part Five

To be continued...

End Map of the Sentinel Heart Part 1 by Scala: [email protected]

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