They're not mine. I'm not making money. I sure wish I did, though!

Thanks to Bobbie and Linda for their work, as usual. Also, thanks to all of those who followed those two different Jim and Blair *g*

This isn't a sequel per se, but the second part of the "I Follow the Night" series. Those stories tell the everyday life of Jim and Blair in this particular universe.

This story is a sequel to: I Follow the Night

Was there a time in your life when you were supposed to stop dreaming? A time when you were supposed to stop trying to imagine what your life could have been instead of what it was? The little whore sitting somewhat carefully on a big box, waiting for his lover to finish his shift, didn't think so. It was a favorite game of his, this What If game. What if the events he'd gone through had been different?

Blair knew his imaginary life by heart. He revelled and felt comfortable in it -- as if he was, indeed, home.

He'd tried several scenarios before finding the one that really fitted him and his lover. He'd built this imaginary life like you built a house, step by step, and with all the details needed. When he'd finally found the correct scenario, he'd kept it hidden like a precious treasure, adding some details here and there according to his mood, or following a particular need he couldn't have satisfied in his real life.

In this imaginary life, he was an anthropologist. He used to travel all around the world, visiting the most exotic, most interesting places, meeting people he wouldn't even dream of meeting normally. He was someone with a great deal of knowledge, a scholar if you will. After travelling all around the world, he decided to have a PhD and that he was also a teacher in a university, maybe Rainier. He didn't really know anything about this university, but one of his recent clients was a professor there and, since the older man was one of the few who treated him with courtesy, he thought it would do.

That wasn't really important, anyway -- what was important was his role in life, in society. He was not a whore, he was a teacher. Someone students could look up to, someone who could be proud of what he was, and what he was doing. In this dream life, he was still living with his lover, of course. Blair always smiled at the idea that he didn't even have to make up a tall and strong man. His lover was already that. Then again, he had always wished for someone like this.. Someone who was strong, but would never raise a hand in anger to him; someone who would always treat him with love and respect. He had hoped to find someone so strong and large that he could feel him behind him, around him, always there to protect and cherish him. His Prince Charming, in other words. Sure, he himself looked nothing like a princess, but he didn't care -- never had. He'd always wanted his Prince Charming, and maybe that was the only thing he'd ever gotten from his fucking life. So, in this imaginary life, Prince Charming was still by his side. He was a cop-- and yes, considering the life both men lived in reality, the irony didn't escape him, but a cop was perfect. The little whore could just see it. His strong and determined lover, protecting and serving his City. It just fit so perfectly.

Then, there was the question of where they lived. Well, that had been taken care of too. They both lived in a loft. Blair had never really dreamed of having a fancy house: all he wanted was a loft-- spacious and comfy, homey. They had a big bedroom, and a king size bed, of course. They also were the owners of a nice kitchen where they took turns cooking tasty meals, and where they cooked together during the weekends. Last, but not least, their loft had a balcony-- oh, and also a fireplace. That had been a recent addition after last winter.

Maybe perfection didn't exist, but Blair was pretty sure that if it did, this imaginary life would be it.

He often indulged in this little fantasy life-- sometimes literally losing himself in it. He didn't care; his Jim was there to bring him back. Always.

Like tonight.

He felt a hand on his hair. He blinked and slowly looked up from his seat. Jim was watching him, a fond smile on his usually cold and impassive face.

"Dreaming again, babe?"

"Maybe." Blair couldn't help but smile back at his lover's voice.

"Maybe, huh?" Jim knelt in front of his partner, totally ignoring the hard-faced men who were walking past them. He ignored the whispers, the contempt he could decipher in some of their comments. He didn't even glance at them, but his mind registered who said what, and he knew he would have a `talk' with some of his nice `colleagues' the next time he saw them. At least no one had said anything to their faces this time. He didn't want to start the night with a fight on his hands. Furthermore, he didn't want to risk losing this new job so soon after getting it. He couldn't care less of the other men's good health, and actually loved showing them the errors of their way in a more direct language, so to speak, but he was fed up with having to explain himself to bosses who didn't give a shit about his life, or his need to protect the only thing of value in said life, namely his lover.

He decided to forget about them for the time being, and focused back on Blair. He rested his hand on the younger man's neck, caressing it softly with his thumb. "So, what was it this time? Did you add a new piece of furniture? Or maybe we moved into a new house?"

Blair dismissed the thought with a flying hand and a smile. "Don't be silly, Jim. Our loft is perfect, we wouldn't even dream of moving out. And no, I didn't add anything tonight." He leaned into Jim's caress, closing his eyes for a second.

Jim stood up after a moment, pulling Blair up in the process. He leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. He liked that Blair hadn't added anything tonight. It meant he didn't feel the need to, and that was always a good sign. It meant that Blair was feeling fine. The big man placed his hand on the small of his lover's back, just barely touching it -- knowing it was still really painful-- and they started heading home.

"So Chief, what did you do today?" he asked casually. His tense body belied the quiet demeanor though. It was clear to his lover that the big man was scanning their surroundings. You never knew what could happen.

Blair didn't seem worried, but he was always vigilant himself. Maybe he didn't have Jim's talents for recognising trouble before it actually started --or make that heard or saw it coming-- but he knew the signs too. He'd been living on the streets for a long time; he knew about the rules and the danger lurking at each corner. He could take care of himself, but he never denied that he felt safer with Jim by his side. He always relaxed a bit when he was with his lover-- never completely until they were safe in their home though, because letting your guard down only made you an easy prey. And Blair refused to be a victim ever again.

"Trying to stall because I won't like the answer?"

Blair rolled his eyes at the question. "Okay, so a guy can't even think in peace around here?"

"You always tell me thinking can be a dangerous activity, Chief," Jim teased.

"Yeah, for those who aren't used to it." He cast a meaningful look at his lover, and laughed at the playful growl that was directed at him. He sobered a bit as he considered his answer. "I stayed home all day. I didn't move my little ass from the couch, just like you so nicely asked." He cast a quick glance at his lover. "Or should I say `ordered'?"

Jim let a frustrated sigh escape. "You damn well know it was a request; firm, maybe, but a request all the same."

"And you damn well know we can't afford my taking days off. I was fine yesterday. I could have gone to work tonight."

Jim stopped the smaller man and turned him toward him, his eyes narrowing from anger. "Want me to show you the state of your back and your ass again, Chief? Don't try to tell me you were `fine' yesterday, and don't even think I believe you were fine today."

Blair refrained from saying anything. He couldn't deny his back was still very sore, if not downright painful, but he would be damned if he admitted it now. He couldn't let the rest pass, though; it was important that Jim understood. "Let's say, for conversation's sake, that you're right." He ignored the other man's snort. "The thing is, I know some guys who get off on this. I'm sure I could have made some bucks just from showing off the welts and a simple little blo-"

"Dammit, Blair, shut up- shut up!" Jim grabbed his arms roughly and pushed him against the closest wall. His face closed off even more at the visible cringe on the younger man's face as he came into contact with the hard surface. "I don't want to hear any more of your bullshit, okay?"

Blair looked up at him, not giving an inch. He wasn't afraid of Jim's anger-- he never could be as far as the other man was concerned. It wasn't in the picture anymore. Immobile, not trying to pry the painful grip off his arms, he quietly said, "You're hurting me, Jim."

"I know," the other man replied matter-of-factly. "I don't want to hurt you more, but you have to understand, I won't allow you to pull a trick tonight. We're going home, you're going to let me check your back, and I'll decide whether you'll be fit for duty tomorrow." He tried not to spit the last words, but wasn't convinced he'd been successful.

How many times had they had this conversation already? How many more would they have it?

Blair was shaking his head, his body vibrating with restrained anger. "Why do you do that, Jim? Why? You're not my pimp. You do not order me around. You do not decide what I can or can't do." He still hadn't budged from his position, didn't know if he really could. He was trapped between two solid walls, the one on his back, cold and unanimated, the other on his front, warm and made of flesh and bone. They both trapped him effectively.

"I'm not your pimp, Chief, you got that right, at least. But I'm your fucking lover!" This time, Jim was yelling and he didn't give a damn. "I'll do what I have to do to keep you safe and well-- as much as I can, do you fucking hear me?" He shook his head. "You little shit, didn't I already promise you that? All those years ago? And didn't you tell me I would be the only man you gave yourself willingly to? All of you?" He shook him twice. "Didn't you?"

He wasn't expecting an answer and Blair knew it, so he kept silent. He just stared defiantly at his lover, his lips drawing a thin line, and tried not to let the pain in his back show on his face or in his tense body. He was painfully aware that the taller man wasn't fooled, though. Still, he wouldn't give in. Not so soon, at least.

Jim shook his head again, sighing. "I'm not getting through to you, am I? It's always the same thing with you."

"No, Jim, it's always the same thing with you," Blair replied hotly. "You always seem to know best. Always the commanding officer, always knowing all the answers, is that it? Tell me, then, where are we going to get the money we need? You don't make enough, and your problems make it difficult for you to even work sometimes." There was no accusation, no resentment in his voice. Blair was just stating facts. He was good at that. "And me? I don't know how to do anything else. This is what I do, Jim, this is what I am. I don't have a choice; it's the best we can get right now."

"Don't you think I fucking know it?" Jim's reply was almost painful to hear. "It's killing me to know I can't do a damn thing right now. I'm useless--" He stopped any protest from his lover. "Useless! I can only watch you leave with all those filthy bastards, that's all! And I'm such a coward, I never could make you leave or give it up either."

"Give it up? And do what? I never did anything else. And leave? Are you out of your mind? Leave for what? Where?"

"We're back to square one, Blair. Like always." He pressed against the other man, deliberately looming over him. "There is only one thing I can do, apparently; try to take care of you within the limits I have... so I'm phrasing my earlier request differently." He looked almost dangerous now-- his eyes cold and focused on the man in front of him. "You're staying home tomorrow, no matter what. I won't let you take any chances. End of the discussion."

"You bastard! Fuck you, Jim. Three days in a row? No way! We need the money."

"Read my lips, Chief: I don't give a damn. You obey me on this one or I swear I'll cuff you to the bed and we'll see how long I'll let you heal then."

"But I'm fine!" This time Blair decided to join the yelling match.

"For God's sake, when are you going to stop with that fucking line! I'm tired of listening to it. Your back is bruised all over, your ass is still sore... not only can I see the pain on your face when you move, but I can feel how warm they are from here. I feel the heat of the welts, I swear."

Blair closed his eyes in defeat. "You're ruining everything. I wanted a nice evening with you, and look at us."

Knowing he'd won this round and eager to soothe things between them now, Jim brushed his fingers on his lover's cheek, speaking softly to him. "I'm not ruining anything. You're just so stubborn. And since when is my taking care of you is `ruining' anything anyway? You're always doing it for me."

"It's not the same thing." Blair sighed. "I'll stay home and won't do anything strenuous. You always win, what do you want me to say?"

Jim smiled, but it was more in relief than from real pleasure at winning another argument. He quickly kissed the resigned lips. "That you understand why I'm doing this."

"Well, I don't."

"Of course you do." Jim leaned back and turned, waiting for his lover to follow him. "My man is fucking smart, he always understands everything. Damn annoying at times."

"And now you're resorting to flattery. Great, man."

"Whatever works, Chief."

The younger man only shrugged, not ready to concede his defeat gracefully yet. More important, he suddenly felt like he'd lost his earlier good mood. Of all the arguments he had with his lover --and they had a lot of them-- this one was the worst, and he hated it.

He walked silently at Jim's side.

The older man's jaw clenched suddenly at the silent treatment he was getting from his companion. He wished a silent Blair looked petulant and childish, but that was never the case; he only looked hurt, angry or resentful, depending on the moment. There was nothing cute or childish in those deep feelings.

"Dammit, Chief... don't shut me out, now!"

"I'm not shutting you out, geez! I'm just going home, quietly and obediently. Aren't you happy?"

Okay, well this sounded a bit petulant, Jim thought. It was a good sign... eventually. But the older man wasn't totally at peace right now, either. "Don't piss me off, Chief. You know it's just for your own good," he snapped.

"Funny. That's what they always say."

Jim couldn't believe him. He took a discreet breath to try and stay calm, though. "What are you implying, Blair? And what do you want to accomplish this time?" He'd kept a level tone, but he hadn't totally succeeded in hiding the slight hurt he'd felt at Blair's comment.

The younger man, always so tuned to his lover's mood, didn't miss it, of course. Suddenly he felt a little ashamed. That was really uncalled for. He reached his hand to the other man's arm and squeezed once.

"Nothing, Jim. Nothing at all."

They walked in silence for a little while.

Jim finally looked at the other. "We both know where we stand, right, Blair?"

The younger man nodded. "I'm just worried, man. I always imagine you're having one of your weird episodes- one of those damns spells, or... I don't know what." He glanced quickly up and tried to smile. "Maybe we should try to give it a better name to start with." He swallowed. "And I can see the day when we'll be told to fuck off because we can't pay for the one doc that can do something for you, or maybe the right drug that doesn't make you go into a coma or..." His shoulders slumped. "Damn, Jim..."

"For all the good they do, maybe we could try something else."

"Don't joke about your health, Jim. And you're right, they haven't done a lot of good so far, but then, what if something happens to you and I'm not near?"

"Even when you're near... you're working, babe, and there's not a lot you can do in those times, right?" he tried to reason gently.

"But when you focus on me, or I don't know-- when you're doing your magic, you don't have those spells so much... I mean, it's as if focusing on me anchors you somehow. Weird, uh?"

"Not so weird... but it's true that I feel better and safer when you're close by, Chief." He smiled at the pleased look on his lover's face. "And I know all those things, Blair. I, of all people, know, all right? Seeing you pay the price is killing me."

"Don't, Jim. Don't start. Let's not do that again tonight, okay?"

Blair turned his head and realised with surprise that they'd arrived at their destination. The building looked as decrepit as when he left it. Good, it didn't crumble while he was away and he liked his sense of normalcy as much as the next guy.

Besides, home was home after all. They said that home was where the heart was, and in Blair's mind, it was never truer than since he'd met one James Ellison. He pushed the door of the little hall and felt Jim's hand hovering over his back, as usual. It seemed to be his favourite place to be.

In one of his infamous mercurial mood-swings, he turned to Jim and sent a killer smile to the big man. "So, since we're both staying home tonight, what are we doing?"

Jim was used to the mood-swings, his lover was nothing if not volatile. He usually thought it was almost pathological, but wouldn't have admitted it for anything in the world. He valued his life... and his balls. He just went with the flow. Besides, a happy and relaxed Blair was all he craved, so he didn't mind if the other man's moods were sometimes hard to follow.

Taking the stairs behind his lover, Jim smiled to himself. "Well, I thought a nice dinner and some snuggling would do tonight."

He shook his head fondly at the snort coming from before him.

"Snuggling? You're kidding me. I want more."

"You always do, Chief." This was another of their recurring arguments... although this one was actually welcomed and enjoyed.

"Well, let me see. I'm a man, I'm breathing and my lover is a fucking stud. What do you think?"

"I can't fault you for your logic, that's what I think."

Jim opened the door of their small apartment and let the other man enter. Once inside and the door firmly locked again, he felt the familiar tension leave him. He never felt better than when he was home; as if he was back in his territory and feeling safe because of it. He chuckled at the thought, as usual; it always made him smile. At least it was useful for something.

Blair heard the chuckle and smiled as well. "Feeling like a happy caveman again, Jim?"

"You know me too well, that's the problem," he replied easily, while going to the fridge to retrieve a beer for himself. It was time for Blair to take his medication for the pain, so no beer for the other man. He grabbed one pill, then thought it over and picked another one.

He went back to the living room and stared at Blair, already sprawled on his stomach on the couch. Jim didn't say anything at the position the other had chosen. They'd had their argument, it was over; at least for the night. He wasn't deluding himself into believing they wouldn't argue about this one again. It was like the argument that never ended in their household. He supposed he should have made his peace with it. Well, peace could go fuck itself.

He squatted near Blair's head and caressed the relaxed face. "Are you falling asleep on me, Chief?"

His lover smiled at him. "Wouldn't want to miss the snuggling session extraordinaire, man. Talk about a tragedy."

"Are you mocking my snuggling abilities? That wouldn't be really wise."

"I wouldn't dream of it, big guy." He looked at what Jim hid in his hands. "Some happy pill for the wounded?"

"So now you admit you're wounded. We're getting somewhere, at last," he swiftly kissed his lover's lips to show he was just joking and handed him the pills.

Blair took them and, without waiting for the glass of water that would come in a second, swallowed them dry.

Jim shook his head. "You couldn't wait for me to bring you a glass of water, of course. And how do you do that, anyway?"

The younger man shrugged carefully. "It's one of my talents," he whispered, already closing his eyes.

"And you're a man of many talents, damn right," Jim smiled softly. "Some of them I really enjoy," he couldn't help but add lewdly.

He sat on the floor, his back against the couch, and leaned back so that his head was resting on a firm, warm thigh. He knew there was no bruise there, so he wasn't hurting Blair, and the younger man always made a good pillow. He switched the TV on and turned it down so that he wouldn't disturb his about-to-fall-asleep lover.

"'m just taking a short nap, Jim," came an already slurred voice behind him. "Don't expect me to sleep the whole night, do ya hear me?"

"Of course you are," he replied dutifully, without turning. "And I always do," he remarked matter-of-factly. He ignored the `yeah, tell me another one' directed at him, and waited for the slow, regular breath pattern that would tell him Blair was finally asleep. He knew his lover hadn't slept well the last two nights, but he'd pretended he didn't notice. Sometimes Blair needed some time alone. As long as it never lasted more than Jim was comfortable with, he left his companion to his own device. Jim was confident that tonight would give Blair a real night's sleep. He needed it.

They both did. When Blair wasn't sleeping, Jim wasn't either; only he hid it from his lover, too. Or maybe Blair was just pretending not to notice either. They both acknowledged and respected each other's needs, and considering their respective pasts, they both had some last dragons to slay, some last habits to break-- even after so many years together. They both knew it, and they were willing to wait as long as needed. It worked well for them, apparently; in two months they would celebrate their sixth anniversary together.

Jim turned to his sound-asleep lover, and stared at him for a moment. He bent down to nuzzle the warm neck, careful not to wake him, and inhaled his lover's scent. He nodded quietly when he smelled Blair's unique scent. He smelled better tonight... not in so much pain. He couldn't really describe it, but people smelled different depending on their moods or their health. He didn't pay much attention to the scent of other people, except for Blair. He was glad that he was regaining his own scent. He was feeling better - this couldn't lie.

He took a deep breath, licked the soft skin very softly, and closed his eyes, smiling... that was home to him. As Blair always said, theirs wasn't much of a life, but it was the only one they had, and they both had someone to share it with. It was more than a lot of people could ever dream of.

Fin

End Prince Charming by Castalie: Castalie.a@wanadoo.fr

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