Author's webpage: http://members.dencity.com/grey853

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Jim has good reason to worry about Blair's behavior while his partner is dating Samantha.

Notes: Thanks to Jenn aka XFreak for her constant support and suggestions.

Warnings: Major angst, hurt/comfort, and discussion of abuse.

Good Reason
by Grey

Jim opened the paper and scanned the headlines, trying to block out the sounds as his partner dressed slowly in the other room. The low groan caught his attention, but he ignored it. Mornings and Sandburg never mixed well anyway, especially when Blair didn't get home until late. Turning the page, he waited for the routine to begin, the weary barefoot shuffle out to breakfast and the inevitable prayer for hot coffee.

As soon as Blair stepped out to the kitchen, Jim glanced up from the table and his paper. A bandage wrapped his partner's right hand, the exposed fingers bloated and purple. "Chief? What's with the hand?

"It's nothing. I need coffee."

"If you wanted mittens, you should've said something, Sandburg." Jim folded the paper, his eyes narrowed as he studied his partner. Dark circles shadowed his bloodshot blue eyes and his pale skin stood out against his morning beard. Obviously, the younger man hadn't spent the night sleeping. "Seriously, what happened?"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Stepping to the counter, Blair took down a mug with his left hand and clumsily poured himself a cup of coffee. "Caught it in a door."

"A door?"

"Yeah, Jim, a door, a car door." He avoided Jim's eyes and sipped the coffee, opting for black instead of adding the cream he normally used.

Still not satisfied, Jim clenched his jaw a few times before he asked, "And how exactly did you get your hand caught in a car door and how bad is it?"

Holding up the bandaged hand, Blair shrugged as he tested the wrapped gauze. "Nothing's broken, just deep bruising and a gash. I was clumsy."

"You closed a door on your own hand?"

"Look, man, it's stupid, okay? I wasn't paying attention. It's no big deal."

"Looks like a big deal." Jim observed the swollen flesh, the damage livid and ugly around the edges of the bandage. He made a pained face in sympathy. "Bet that hurt like a son of a bitch."

"Yeah, it did." Blair smiled and shrugged weakly. "Didn't cry though."

"Macho man Sandburg." Jim picked up his mug and stood up, stepping to the coffee maker beside Blair. "Let me see it."

"No way, man." Blair jerked away from the touch too quickly as he walked over to the table to sit down. "Are we still working on the Bergman case today?"

Suddenly suspicious of his partner's uneasy behavior, Jim slipped into cop mode without even thinking. "Changing the subject?"

"Bored with the old one. So are we?"

Reluctantly, Jim refreshed his coffee as he talked, keeping his voice neutral despite the niggling concern over Blair's injury. "Thought I'd take a run at the son again. I think he and dear old dad weren't as tight as he tried to make out in the first interview."

"Could be. He did seem a little nervous. Of course, his dad had just been bashed in the head. It's hard to tell sometimes."

Jim nodded, his lips pursed, his eyes never leaving Blair's face, his partner's anxiety tightening the normally relaxed features. "Yeah, it is. Sometimes." He paused only a moment before he added, "So, you were out with Sam again last night, right?"

His face even more pale and haggard, Blair picked up Jim's paper. "Yeah. You finished with the sports section?"

"Was she with you when you decided to use your hand for a doorstop?"

Slapping the paper back down on the table, Blair snapped. "Jesus. Leave it alone, Jim. Samantha's got nothing to do with it."

Puzzled at the adamant response, Jim tilted his head as he frowned harder. "Did I say she did?"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it. I did something stupid. It's my fault, not hers."

Brow creased, Jim sat down at the table. "Why are you so defensive?"

"I'm not defensive."

"Yes, you are, Chief. I'm a cop. I know defensive when I see it. Why do I suddenly get the feeling there's something you're not telling me about this?"

"Because you're a suspicious bastard, that's why." Looking up and meeting the hurt eyes, Blair softened his tone. "I'm sorry, Jim. You know I only mean that in the nicest way possible."

"Riiiight. Now, bullshit aside, tell me what really happened."

"You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

"Tell me." More than ever, he needed Blair to be honest, to stop fucking around with the truth. Jim knew a lie when he heard it, especially from Sandburg.

Not meeting Jim's eyes, Blair drank his coffee off and on while he told the story. "We just got back for the Liv Ullmann festival at the university and we were busy talking. When I got out, I slammed the door shut before I got the hand out of the way. Like I said, it was stupid."

"Must have been one hell of a conversation."

"Better than this one."

Jim sat still, his face serious as he bit back a challenging response. He recognized the extended lie, but didn't press it. Instead, his voice softened, remaining even, his worry outweighing his need to pry further. "You've been looking a little ragged. If you ask me, Sam's not very conducive to your health lately."

"Nobody's asking you." Angry, Blair stood up, his movements bringing on a sudden spasm across his back. Doubled over, he held his good hand to his right flank. "Oh, shit."

Jim stood, his concern straining the words as he lightly touched Blair's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"It's just a muscle cramp. I'll be fine." As Jim slid his hand down his back to investigate further, Blair flinched away. "It's okay, man. Look, I'm going to take a couple of aspirin and head out for school. Why don't I meet you around noon and you can fill me in on the Bergman deal?"

"What's going on here, Chief? You've been jumpy as hell lately."

"Nothing's going on, Jim. I'm just tired and in a lousy mood, okay? You're not the only one who gets grumpy sometimes."

"Grumpy? Me? You must be joking."

Laughing at his feigned sincerity, Blair shook his head as he headed to the bathroom, his hand still at his back. He called over his shoulder before he shut the door. "Say that line again in the bullpen, man. The guys could use a good knee slapper.

Jim stared after him, his desire to help his friend tempered by Blair's efforts to maintain a distance. Swallowing hard, Jim rubbed his face with one hand and swore under his breath. "God, Chief. I hate when you do this."

Reluctantly, he turned his attention to cleaning up the kitchen as he wondered what the hell he could do to find out the truth without endangering their friendship.

A muffled profanity interrupted his thoughts.

"Fuck."

"Chief?"

Blair opened the door and held out the aspirin bottle. "Child-proofing sucks, man. Mind?"

Jim flipped off the top with his thumb and handed it back. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"I'm fine, man. Don't worry."

As Blair turned away and closed the door again, Jim palmed the smooth wood as he whispered. "Might as well tell me to stop breathing."

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing, Chief. Want the rest of the coffee before I clean up?"

"Sure. I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time. No hurry."

Jim stepped to the counter and lifted the pot, disturbed with the knowledge that his best friend still didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth about the trouble hounding his personal life, a life too full of secrets to make a sentinel happy or any less protective.

"Jim, you with me?"

Jim lifted his head and met dark eyes trained in his direction. "What?"

Simon put down his file and frowned. "I asked if you were still going to be talking to Bergman's son. What's his name again?"

"Sol. And, yeah, I'm going to run by his office around eleven."

Pouring more coffee into his own mug, Simon lifted the pot. "You want a warm up?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Could've fooled me."

Jim shook his head and sat back, the muscles at the back of his neck tight and pinching down into his shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a little distracted this morning."

"About?"

"It's nothing."

"Try again, Jim. Is this about Sandburg?"

Hesitating, Jim avoided meeting his captain's gaze. "Have you noticed anything going on with him lately?"

"Going on? Like what?"

"I don't know, tired, evasive, kind of like he's leading a double life."

Simon snorted and shook his head. "A double life? Jim, I think that's a little ironic coming from you."

Shrugging, Jim conceded the point that hiding his sentinel abilities forced him to live in two worlds on a daily basis. "It's just he's been edgy lately, like he's hiding something. I'm just worried he might be in some kind of trouble."

"And you don't think he's got enough sense to tell you about it if he were?"

"I don't know." Looking up, Jim met the worried eyes of his friend. "Do you think he'd tell me?"

Simon sipped his coffee while he pondered the question and then finally answered. "I think it would depend."

"On what?"

"On what the problem was."

"You're losing me here."

Rubbing the back of his head with one hand, Simon took a deep breath. "Think about it, Jim. Your opinion about Blair matters a lot to the kid."

"So?"

"So, I think he'd try to deal with his problems on his own if he could and he'd feel bad if he couldn't. Is there anything going on in particular that's got you so keyed up?"

Jim stood up, the frustration building. "He hurt his hand last night. He said he caught it in his car door, but he was lying."

"How do you know it was a lie?"

"Trust me. I know."

Leaning forward, Simon fisted his hands together on his desk. "I trust you. I've seen you do it with perps. It's pretty unnerving, but it works." He paused before he added, "Okay, so he's lying. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, but I have my suspicions."

"Obviously." After waiting a few moments, Simon prompted, "Are you going to tell me or keep it a secret?"

"He's dating Samantha Collins down in forensics."

"So?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time during the Matson case when she tried to blow his face off in the lab?"

Simon nodded grimly, his face stony with recollection. "Yeah, I remember that story. Very unprofessional. But when I brought it up to Sandburg, he didn't seem concerned, so I didn't pursue it. Are you saying you think this woman is somehow responsible for what happened to Blair last night?"

"I'm saying it's possible that there's a lot more to the story."

Simon sighed and sat back, his tongue playing along the inside of his lower lip before he finally spoke. "Jim, don't take this the wrong way, but why is this your business?"

Turning, Jim frowned at both the tone and the question. "What?"

"Sandburg's a grown man. If something's going on between Sam and him, that's his life, not yours. This big brother routine is fine most of the time, but there comes a point when you've got to let him make his own mistakes."

"Even if it means he gets hurt?"

"Come on. Do you really think Collins is to blame for hurting his hand and he's hiding that for some reason?"

Jim crossed his arms and turned back toward the window, his mind reviewing Blair's behavior from the morning. "Yes, Simon, I do. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't. It's just this gut feeling I have."

Lifting an eye brow, Simon shrugged. "Well, you've arrested killers on less." As Jim turned around to face him, the older man added, "But do you really think Sandburg won't be pissed if you try to interfere in his life?"

"I'm not interfering, Simon. I'm concerned."

"You didn't answer my question."

"I just know I can't leave it alone, not when I think something serious might be going on."

"How serious?"

"Serious enough." Picking up the file from the table, Jim headed for the door. "Think I'll take a walk to the lab before I head out to see Bergman."

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me know what you find out."

Jim paused and smiled. "Thought you said I should mind my own business?"

Simon waved a hand in dismissal and turned back to his work, his voice only a little more gruff as he refused to look up. "Don't you have work to do, detective?"

"Very good, sir."

"Hey, Jim. Where's your shadow?" Sam pushed back her hair and returned to peering through her microscope as Jim entered the lab.

"He's still at school. I thought I'd come down to see if you've found anything out about those fibers we found at the Bergman scene."

She fetched a file beside her and opened it up. "We don't have all the reports back yet, but the ones on the body definitely don't match those found in the trunk of the first car."

"What about the son's car?"

"The Lumina?"

"Yeah."

Shaking her head, she closed the file. "We don't have that back yet. I had to send off for some more samples. Should be back by this afternoon though."

"Good. I guess I can check back later." Uncomfortable, Jim hesitated and then forced himself to act pleasant. "So, you and Sandburg are going out pretty steady now, huh?"

Dark brown eyes met his as she pursed her lips before smiling. "You could say that. Of course, nothing's all that steady with your partner. He's a hard man to train."

"Train?"

"You know, hard to train to follow the rules."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, you know how he is."

Leaning on the counter, his face full of interest, Jim asked, "How is he?"

"Full of bullshit and charm mostly."

"There is that."

"I mean, he can make me laugh one minute and make me want to smack him the next."

"I figured that was part of the appeal." Jim kept his voice easy, his face relaxed as he listened to the woman's strained voice as she spoke about his friend.

Sam crossed her arms and shook her head. "Blair needs to grow up. He's always so selfish, just thinking about himself."

Jim shook his head as he stood up. "I don't see that."

"Well, you wouldn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam turned back to her papers and shrugged. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Stubborn, Jim stood still and persisted. "Tell me what you mean."

"Look, I don't want to fight."

"We're not fighting. I just want to know what you're talking about."

Sam waited as a lab tech came in and picked up a sample. As soon as the woman left, she turned her gaze on Jim, her words coming out tense and accusing. "He spends more time worrying and talking about you than anything else. Like last night, he was late again because he was working with you instead of being on time like he promised. We missed the first few minutes of the program. He was too busy playing cops and robbers to even bother to call."

Angered by the hateful words, Jim took a deep breath before he trusted himself to speak. "Blair's the best partner I've ever had. You work with cops. You know how it is between partners."

"But Blair's not a cop. He needs to grow up and stop pretending to be something he's not."

"What he does with his life should be up to him."

"Only when it doesn't affect other people."

Rather than argue further, Jim changed the subject. "How did he hurt his hand?"

Startled, Sam frowned. "What?"

"I just wondered how he hurt his hand at the film festival."

Suddenly guarded, Sam turned away, one hand on the microscope, the other shoved deep in her pocket. "You'll have to ask him."

"I did."

"And what did he say?"

"He said to ask you."

It only took a few seconds before she responded to his lie. "It wasn't my fault, Jim." Sam's voice trembled faintly as she braced herself against the counter. "I just got so angry. I didn't mean for him to fall."

"Fall?"

"At my apartment building. I slammed the door and when I realized Blair's hand was in the door, I pushed it open and he fell back down the stairs."

"Shit."

"He wasn't hurt that badly except for the hand. He wouldn't go to the ER, so I cleaned it up myself." She swallowed hard and turned, her face suddenly pale. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I really didn't."

Stunned by the confession, Jim took several long moments before he played his hunch. "What about the other times?"

"Other times?"

"I saw the other bruises."

Sam shook her head and backed away, her arms wrapped around her chest. "He just pisses me off so much. You of all people know what a pain in the ass he can be. It's not like I don't have a reason."

Squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, Jim clenched his jaw, wondering what the hell to say to such complete and utter bullshit. Finally, his voice settled and he managed to speak, the words like bullets. "Don't ever touch him again."

"Don't you mean don't ever fuck him again?"

Jim stepped closer, the ferocious hush of his words filling the room. "I don't know what your game is, lady, but you hurt him again and I'll make your life a misery."

Before he could say more, the lab technician came in and halted, uncomfortable at the obvious tension. Sam signaled for the folder as she snapped, "We're done here, detective."

As he walked out of the lab, Jim swam in his own anger. Sucking in air, he managed to make it to the washroom before sagging against the wall. Alone, he shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness and then turned on the tap to cold water. Splashing several handfuls on his face, he then dried and threw the paper towel away. He sat back on the edge of the sink and spoke softly. "We're not done here, Collins. Not by a long shot."

Jim skimmed the computer screen, his muscles tense as he waited for Blair to arrive in the bullpen. The warm voice spoke several times before his friend finally made it to his desk and plopped his backpack on the floor beside him. As he eased himself into the chair, Jim watched the twinges of discomfort.

"Hey, Jim."

"Sandburg."

Blair frowned and leaned in. "You okay, man? You sound pissed."

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"Not here. We're going for lunch."

"I just got here and I'm not really hungry."

"Then keep me company." Jim handed Blair his jacket, still slightly damp from the drizzle. "Come on. There's an egg roll with my name on it somewhere."

Reluctantly, Blair stood, his face worried as he put on his coat and picked up the backpack.

"Leave your stuff. We'll get it later."

"What's this about, Jim?"

"Like I said, not here."

Quiet, Blair walked by his side, his breathing faster as they reached the elevator. Once inside, he finally spoke again. "Cut the cloak and dagger shit and tell me what's going on, okay? Did I do something to piss you off?"

Hands out to his side, braced on the railing, Jim studied his friend's worried expression. Before he could speak, the doors pinged and they arrived in the garage. Walking to the truck, he kept his voice low. "I talked to Samantha this morning."

Blair stopped and turned abruptly, his good hand on Jim's chest. "Jesus, Jim. Please tell me you didn't do that."

"But I did."

"You had no right to do that."

"I don't want to talk about this here, Chief."

Shaking his head in disbelief and near panic, the younger man pushed back his curls. As he stepped away a few paces, Blair complained, "I don't want to talk about this anywhere, man. This is so not your business."

Jim moved in closer, his voice low to avoid being overheard by the cops walking by. "Get in the truck, Blair. We need to talk about this and we can't do it here."

"I'm not going anywhere right now." Blair turned on one heel to go and Jim reached out, his fingers wrapping around the right forearm to keep him from leaving. The immediate reaction surprised him as the younger man jerked away and cradled his arm to his chest in pain. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry. I thought it was just your hand."

His face dark with hurt and anger, Blair maintained his distance. "It's not what you think."

"You don't know what I think." Edging closer, Jim pleaded, "Come on, Blair. We have to talk about this."

"No, you have to talk about it. I don't."

"Even so, you're my partner. The least you can do is listen. Call it a favor."

"I call it blackmail."

Relaxing at the slightest note of surrender in Blair's tone, Jim nudged him toward the truck. "It's lunch and it's on me."

Reluctantly, Blair relented and headed for the truck, his arm still held up close to his body. Climbing in, Jim waited while his partner fastened his seatbelt, his face grim and serious. "You want to go home to eat? I can heat up dinner from last night."

Meeting Jim's eyes, Blair smiled weakly. "There's cheap, Jim, and then there's Ellison."

Jim watched his friend trudge into the loft, the exhaustion weighing down the younger man's features, his whole body tense and drawn in. Still silent, Blair slipped off his coat, hung it up, and then stepped to the kitchen to make coffee. "Chief, you haven't said a word since we left the station."

"What do you want me to say, man? That you're way out of line or that you piss me off more than anybody else on the fucking planet?" Blair didn't look up, never stopped moving as he filled the carafe. He winced as he almost dropped the pot and had to catch it with his bad hand. "Shit."

"Let me do that."

"I can do it. Now, go sit down."

Reluctantly, Jim obeyed, watching intently while Blair struggled to finish the task. As soon as the younger man flipped the switch, Blair took a deep breath and walked into the living room. Tight lips and narrowed eyes betrayed his distress. He paced several times before he spoke again, the words less forceful, but still strained. "You had no right to talk to Sam behind my back, Jim."

"I was worried."

"About what?"

"You."

Shaking his head, Blair turned away, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. "I'm fine."

"Not from where I'm sitting. Come on, Chief. You can't believe what's going on between you two is healthy."

"I can handle it."

"Is that why you lied to me about it? Tried to cover it up? Is that how you're handling it?" Jim forced himself to stay calm and remain seated despite the incredible urge to get up and hug his friend. After a few more moments of silence, Jim prodded, "Talk to me here, Chief. I'm at a loss to figure out what's going on in that head of yours."

"First of all, what goes on between Sam and myself is between us, not you or anyone else. Second, this isn't about Sam, it's about you and me, about whether or not you trust me to run my own life."

"Damn it, Chief, you lied to me.

Blair held up a hand and shook his head. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I should've known that would trigger that snoopy nature of yours. It's just that I knew you'd overreact."

"Overreact? She pushed you down the fucking stairs and you're covering it up. Explain that to me. I just don't get that."

"It was an accident."

"My ass."

"Jim, you weren't there. You don't know what happened."

Jim paused and took a deep breath before he spoke, his frustration dragging stubborn air through his chest. "Listen to me. I talked to Sam. She admitted this isn't the first time she's gotten angry enough to do something out of line. Tell me I'm wrong here, but it sounds to me something's seriously not right between you two."

Blair pushed back his hair and sighed before he slumped down into the chair across from Jim. Holding his injured hand close to his body, he chewed his lower lip awhile before he finally spoke. "Sam's got some problems. You don't know what her life's been like, what shit she's been through."

"Are you trying to excuse her behavior?"

"No, I'm just saying there are reasons for what's going on. I like Sam. She's smart and basically a good person. I'm trying to help her through some things, that's all. It's just that sometimes, it gets out of hand. She gets so angry, it's hard to talk to her."

"You're not her shrink. If you like her so damn much, send her to counseling before you really get hurt." Jim's voice softened as he leaned forward. "Look, I'm worried about you here. I've seen too many of these cases not to think it's only going to escalate unless you stop it."

"These cases? Fuck, Jim, we had a fight. So what? A lot of people fight."

"Sure they do, but not like this." Pausing, Jim measured his words carefully. "Let me ask you a question. If you had a friend who was being treated like this, what would you say?"

Blair avoided his eyes, his face still sullen. "You just don't understand, man. It's not as simple as that."

Frustrated, Jim stood and walked to the kitchen and got down the mugs, giving himself some more time to consider his next question. "So, what are you going to do, Blair, wait until you end up in the hospital or worse?"

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that."

"I can't just leave her, Jim. She needs me."

"She needs help, Chief. That doesn't mean you have to literally risk your ass until she gets it."

Blair got up and stepped to the counter, his face grim as he spoke. "I get what you're saying, Jim, I do. And despite the fact that I'm still pissed about you talking to Sam like that, I know why you did it. I appreciate the concern, but I can handle this."

Motioning at Blair's hand, Jim frowned as he served up the coffee. "Doesn't look like you're handling it, Chief. Looks like it's handling you. Or she is."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, just because you sleep with her, you don't have to put up with this shit. There are other women to be with."

Using his good hand, Blair steadied himself against the counter, his face suddenly flushed again. "My sex life is none of your business."

"I'm just saying..."

Blair held up his hand in a stop motion, his voice tight around the words. "I know what you're saying, Jim. Just don't fucking say it again, man. This isn't about me putting up with anything to get laid. It's about caring about somebody who needs me. I know you don't understand that, but you have to leave it alone. Let me deal with this my own way."

Jim stared at his partner, his gut clenched, his head pounding with the pressure of wanting to scream out so many feelings, but holding them back, keeping them undercover. He stepped around Blair and walked to the window. "You think I don't know what it feels like to care about someone who hurts you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Sounded like it."

"I just meant that the thing between Sam and me is complicated."

"All relationships are complicated, Chief." He swallowed hard and refused to look at Blair while he spoke, painful memories gutting his insides. "When I was growing up, I never understood why my mom left home. She was my mother. She was supposed to be there, you know?" He didn't wait for a response, plowing ahead before his tongue stalled on the words boiling up. "But when I got older, I understood what she must have gone through. My dad wasn't an easy man to live with. I remember hearing them arguing, hearing sounds I didn't quite recognize because I didn't want to know that my dad smacked her around. After she left, I sort of blanked that from my mind and blamed her for leaving. It wasn't until much later when I was out of the house that I finally realized what the real deal was between them."

"Your dad hit your mom?"

"Yeah. Sometimes. When he got pissed enough or drunk enough. Not all the time."

"Shit."

"Yeah, but I made excuses because I was a kid and didn't know any better. When I got out of that house, I discovered another world, a world where when a man does that, he has to be stopped. It's one of the reasons I'm a cop, Blair." His arms crossed, he turned and met his friend's concerned gaze. "It doesn't make a difference when it's a man getting abused. It has to be stopped."

"I'm not abused."

"What would you call it?"

Blair didn't answer, but moved to the kitchen table and sat down, his hand cupped around his mug as he remained silent. After a few more moments, Jim asked, "What are you going to do, Chief?"

"I don't know." He drank a few sips of coffee before he added, "Why don't we have some lunch?"

"We need to settle this."

"Let me think about it, okay? I just need a little space here."

Reluctantly, Jim stepped to the refrigerator and took out the homemade vegetable soup to warm up. "Okay. You want more time, fine. But this isn't finished."

"I know that. Your spirit guide should've been a rat terrier instead of a panther. You never leave anything the fuck alone."

In spite of his worry, Jim laughed. "Stevie and I used to have a rat terrier."

"Figures."

Jim flipped through the last few pages of the file and nodded. "I think we should ask for a warrant for Bergman's cabin. He might have stashed the murder weapon up there."

Simon frowned and chewed on the end of his cigar. "You think the guy's stupid enough to keep it around after killing his father?"

"Won't know until we look. There's enough evidence to arrest him now, but I'd be happier if we had the weapon to seal it." As he stood up to leave, Simon stopped him. "Wait a minute."

"Yeah?"

"What's going on with Sandburg? I saw him this morning coming out of the lab and he looked like somebody's kicked puppy. Is he still dating Collins?"

Jaw clenched, Jim shrugged. "He's a grown man, sir."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Jim sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. "I've tried everything. I thought the thing with his hand last week would be the end of it."

"What did he say about that?"

"It was an accident."

"You believe him?"

"I don't know if he believes it. The thing is, he's not happy, but he's not willing to change it."

Simon sat back, his face solemn. "Maybe he needs an alternative."

"Alternative?"

"Yeah, you know. Someone else to get hooked up with."

"Are you saying I should fix him up with a date?"

Simon leaned forward, his black eyes intense and determined. "The kid has dated over half the city, Jim. Why does he keep going back to Collins? There has to be a reason. We both know these kind of relationships aren't one-sided. Blair's going to stay with her unless there's a good reason for him not to."

Standing, Jim paced, the nervous energy racing through his body. "I just don't understand why he can't see he deserves better. She treats him like shit and he just takes it."

"Seems to be his pattern."

Halting, Jim stared at his friend, a cold wash chilling his skin. "What are you saying?"

Simon sat back and didn't blink. "Don't ask unless you really want to know, Jim."

"I want to know. Do you really think I treat Blair like shit?"

"I didn't say that, but yeah, sometimes, you do. You take him for granted and aren't the most sensitive guy in the world when you're working cases. Your focus on the job is one of the reasons you're a great cop, but it doesn't make you the easiest person to be around, either. I'm not saying you do it on purpose or that you don't care for the guy. It's obvious that you do care, maybe too much."

"Too much? He's my friend. How can I care too much?"

Cupping the back of his head with one hand, Simon sighed. "I hadn't planned on getting into this today."

"Well, you started it, so tell me."

"It's just that if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous of Samantha and any other woman who comes along."

"Jealous?"

"I know you're concerned about how she treats him, but I think it's more than that. I think if you're honest with yourself, you'll realize that you want more than just to protect him."

"You think I'm in love with Sandburg?"

"Are you?"

Stunned by the direct question, Jim stepped back, his head swimming. He rubbed his face with one hand and turned away. "I don't believe this conversation."

"Why? I'd be a lousy cop if I missed clues as glaring as how you behave around your partner."

Jim squeezed his eyes shut. He'd never admitted it outside his own head before. The risk buzzed his skin and made him dizzy. "He doesn't know."

"I figured that. For an observer, he's a little too close to the subject to see the whole picture. Plus, he likes words. I'm sure you haven't mentioned it."

Sighing, Jim turned, his head hanging slightly, his shoulders rounded as he eased into a chair. "How could I say it to him when I couldn't even say it to myself?"

Getting up from his desk, Simon came around and sat across from Jim at the table before he spoke again more quietly. "I can understand that."

Looking up, Jim met worried eyes. "Can you?"

"Yeah, Jim, I can. You finally find someone to care about and it turns out to be a man? I mean, damn, why Sandburg of all people? That's got to be a kick in the ass, no doubt about it."

Jim sat back and shook his head, the relief of confession relaxing his muscles. "You don't know how many times over the last few months I've wanted to tell him."

"What's stopping you?"

"Common sense and self-preservation mostly."

"Or just plain fear?"

"Maybe. But come on, Simon, let's stop dreaming. Work problems aside, can you really see Blair giving up the ladies to be with me?"

Simon puffed a few times and then put his cigar in the ashtray on the table. "Actually, I can. I mean, sure, it's obvious that Sandburg likes women, but I really don't think he'd say no to exploring the possibilities of being with you."

"I'd like to believe that, but I can't. I don't want to spoil things."

"Spoil things?"

"I fuck up relationships, or haven't you noticed?"

"I noticed, Jim, but that doesn't mean this one should be torpedoed before you even try."

Jim tilted his head as he studied his captain and friend. "You're really surprising me here, Simon. You know the risks concerning the job and how bad it can get. Why support this?"

Nodding, Simon sat up straighter and squared his shoulders. "Because discrimination's always wrong. Whether it's about me being black and dating a white girl when I was in high school or you being with Sandburg, it's the same thing. We love who we love and fuck the people who don't get that."

"Sounds nice, but reality's a whole lot different."

"Then we change reality, Jim, or at least our little piece of it. Let's start with you telling Sandburg the truth. He deserves a chance at something better and so do you."

"And if he says no?"

"His loss."

"So, Jim, what's this about?" Blair held up the menu as he looked wide-eyed around the restaurant.

"I just thought we deserved a break, that's all."

"A break from what?"

"Routine. I've been busy and you've been going out so much, I thought we should do something different."

Suspicious, Blair closed and put down the menu before he leaned forward. "Different? Jim, you like routine. Doing something different drives you crazy. So give, man. What's up?"

"That's not true. I can adapt to changes."

"You're not a dinosaur, man. You don't have to adapt. Why are you avoiding the question?"

Uneasy, Jim shrugged. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"You want to eat here or not, Sandburg? You're spoiling the moment."

"The moment? We're having a moment?"

"Fuck. I was trying to."

Blair made an excuse-the-hell-out-of-me face and said hello to the waiter. After they each ordered the lobster, the younger man sat back and sipped his white wine, his right hand still bruised, but functioning well. "Didn't mean to spoil the production, Jim."

"It's not a production. I was trying to be spontaneous."

"Spontaneous doesn't require reservations."

Jim adjusted his tie and reached for his whiskey. He swallowed it down and hoped for another soon.

"Slow down, Jim, or I'm taking your keys."

"I'm fine."

"You're nervous as hell. What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. Oh, fuck. This was a bad idea."

"What was?"

"I just thought if I could take you out, I could do this a without feeling like such an idiot."

Blair shook his head, totally befuddled. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"You've got that right. To be so damn smart, you miss a hell of a lot."

"I do?" Frowning, Blair scooted his chair in closer to the table. Keeping his voice low and even, he asked, "What am I missing?"

Jim took a deep breath before he spoke, the need to avoid sounding pathetic paramount in his mind. "I don't want you to go out with Sam anymore."

Jerking back, Blair snapped, "Jim, don't start that again."

Jim didn't look up, couldn't face Blair's intense scrutiny. He kept his voice hushed, but the words scraped his throat, too new to handle. "I don't want you to go out with anybody else, either."

"Anybody else? Jim? What are you saying here?"

"You heard me."

"Then look at me and tell me again. This time say it all and say it clearly."

Swallowing hard, his courage challenged, he glanced up and met dark blue eyes, kind eyes that never wavered. "I love you. Is that clear enough for you?"

Blair smiled, his face like the swell of pure light at the end of absolute darkness. "Clear enough, man. I'm in love with you, too."

Air settled in his lungs again and Jim relaxed. "Really?"

"Really. I just never expected to ever hear you say it."

"That makes two of us."

More serious, Blair's voice softened. "Why did it take so long, man?"

"Because I'm a coward."

"You're many things, Jim, but you're not a coward."

"I should've said something sooner."

"You're not the only one who could've done that." Blair smiled and teased. "So, this was your idea of making a moment, huh?"

"Something like that."

"I like it. The only thing is, I don't want to call it a first date."

"Why not?"

Blair moved closer, his voice wickedly playful. "I never give in on the first date."

Suddenly flushed, his cock waking up hungry, Jim whispered, "Our first date was under a garbage truck, Chief."

Smiling, his face suddenly happy, Blair nodded. "So it was, man. So it was."

Back at the loft, Blair made the first move as they sat together on the sofa. Touching Jim's shoulder, he whispered, "It's okay, Jim. I know you're nervous, but we can go as slow as you need to."

Taking Blair's hand in his, Jim caressed it between his palms as he met the worried gaze. "What about you, Chief? Aren't you nervous? I mean, this is going to change everything between us."

"No, it's not. It's only going to add to it. And yeah, I'm a little shaky, but it's not like we haven't been working up to this for three years, man. It's long overdue, really."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do." Squeezing his hand in reassurance, Blair smiled. "You can kiss me if you want."

"I want." Jim hesitated before he confessed, his voice catching on the words. "I've never done this before, Blair."

"Sure you have. Kissing's kissing. Besides, I can walk you through it."

Smiling, Blair leaned in, his lips against Jim's, the softness contrasted with the rough touch of whiskers around the edges. Pressure slowly increased as the younger man cupped the back of his head and drew him closer, Blair's tongue begged for entrance, the wet heat powerful and commanding. Wrapping his arms around the hard body moving against him, Jim groaned, his hips bucking up as his cock ached for attention.

Pulling back, Blair laughed low and husky. "Slow down, man. You're going to be done before we even get started."

"Oh, god." His head rolling back and his eyes closed, Jim complained, "I've wanted this so long, I can't help it. You taste so good."

Hands framed his face as Blair kissed his chin and then his eyelids. "Jim, you're not going to spoil it by coming with one touch. Why don't we go upstairs and do this right? Sheets are easier to clean than sofas."

"You sure?"

Thrusting his hips, Blair's impressive erection poked Jim in the thigh. "Don't I feel sure?"

"God, yes."

In record time both men made it upstairs. Standing by the bed, Jim slipped off his tie as Blair did the same and took off his jacket. Without talking, but each watching the other, both men stripped down and then stood by the bedside.

"Man, working out pays off. Come here and let me touch you."

Frowning, his brow wrinkled, Jim stepped closer, his right hand tracing the outer edge of a huge bruise along Blair's side. His erection faded quickly as horror choked his words. "You're hurt. When did you do all this?"

"It's nothing, Jim. I fell down the stairs, remember?"

"Jesus." Jim studied the jigsaw array of damage, the discolored flesh stretched tightly over firm muscles. Fuck, he'd seen corpses with less trauma. He fingered the skin and noted the massive collection of injuries in various stages of healing. "You didn't do all this from one fall."

Blair pulled away slightly and slumped on the edge of the bed, his arms crossed around his chest. "I'm finished with Sam, Jim. Let it go. It's over. I'm with you now."

"Thank god." The mattress dipped as Jim moved beside his partner, his arm wrapped around his shoulder. Pushing back the curls, Jim kissed his temple. "The bitch. I hate seeing this shit. I love you."

Relaxing, Blair turned and palmed his hand over his heart. "I love you, too, Jim. Forget about Sam. Please. Now, let's get the moment back, want to?"

Not one to argue when his naked partner insisted, Jim gave in. "Sure."

Easing back on the bed, Jim drew his lover with him, the body heat rippling the air between them before Blair straddled his hips and let his tongue get down to business. Brain clouded with need, Jim drank in the overwhelming rush of sensations, the lips sucking his nipples spiking pleasure to the base of his cock, his balls throbbing. Hands stroked his hips, his chest, gliding down to his tease his thighs as Blair shifted and shoved his legs apart. Kneeling between them, he petted the leaking cock. "God, you're so beautiful, Jim. I've wanted to suck you forever."

Wordless, Jim just moaned and shoved his hips up invitingly, fisting the sheets as he twisted against the growing pressure to come. Blair's touches fired through his gut, his ass clenching, his body starving for every rich contact with the man he loved. A quick tongue flick preceded the full lips rounding and taking him in, the steamy suction flaming his skin, swallowed by flashes that swelled his breath to nothing but pants and quick gulps. His own whimpers stunned his ears as Blair licked and staggered his prayers before using a wet finger to tease his hole. His whole body shuddered with spasm, his thoughts splintered and useless, blown away with the flood of delicious release to pleasure.

Blair's body stretched up and over him, his lover's erection rubbing and thrusting urgently against his belly. A few well aimed jabs brought him off, the jerking uncontrolled, followed by stillness. Blair's racing heartbeat matched his own as he held his guide close. Musky sex textured the aroma of salty sweat and Jim wallowed in the wonder of it, the rich scent of lovemaking, of loving, of being intimate for the first time layered with the hope of many times to come.

His vision blurred as he closed his eyes and drank in the warmth, the promise of lying there with Blair. After a few moments, he kissed the damp curls and smiled. "Some moment, Chief. Thanks."

"You're welcome. God, I'm tired."

Pulling the sheets up over them both, Blair still lying exhausted on top of his torso, Jim whispered, "Then sleep."

"I need to clean up. We'll be stuck together like glue if I don't." Blair lifted the top of his body up, his knees still between Jim's spread thighs. His thick chest hair lay all matted with sweat and semen mixed in. "It'll only take a minute." After a quick kiss to Jim's nose, he got off the bed and grabbed his shirt at the end of the bed and slipped it on. "I'll be right back."

Even in the low light, the bruises on his legs stood out. Jim bit back his anger and called out. "Hurry back."

Lying alone, he vowed Samantha would never touch Blair again. Never. In his mind he fought against the brutal images of revenge, the stakes through the heart, the gun to the head, and focused instead on the love he had for Blair Sandburg. The tender wash of promise lulled him to near sleep until his lover returned.

Lifting the sheets, Blair used the warm cloth to clean gently between his legs before climbing in beside him, smelling all fresh of toothpaste and soap. Snuggling in closer, Blair spoke in a hush. "I love you, Jim. Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared."

"Really?"

"Not now. What about you? Are you scared?"

"No, Jim, not anymore."

"I should come with you." Jim stood, leaning back on the counter in the kitchen sipping his coffee.

"No way. She's not going to be happy as it is. I don't need you there lording it in her face to make it worse."

"Lording it in her face? I wouldn't do that."

"Liar." Blair finished buttering his toast and smiled as he teased. "Not that I could blame you, of course. You won first place."

Moving in from behind, Jim wrapped his arms around Blair's neck and kissed the side of his face. "I surely did."

Patting his cheek, Blair then reached for his orange juice, his expression suddenly more serious. "All the more reason to stay away. It was okay for me to date other people, but I was supposed to always come back. I won't be coming back this time, so she's going to see this as a betrayal. Besides, she's always been really jealous of you anyway. Believe me, Jim, you don't want to be in on this."

Frowning, Jim took the seat next to his partner. "You think she's going to get violent again?"

"I'm not going to her apartment. I'll tell her in the lab. I know it's a shitty thing to do..."

"But she's less likely to make a scene if you cut it off there rather than at home, right?"

"Right." Blair avoided his eyes as he wiped his mouth.

Hesitating, Jim leaned forward, his arms crossed and braced on the table. "I have to ask this, Chief. Why did you keep going back to somebody who treated you like that?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

"I know you don't, but I think we have to."

Glancing up, Blair shook his head. "No, we don't, but I will if you'll promise to try and let it go."

"I can try."

Blair sighed and stood up, throwing his napkin on the table. Walking to the window, he paced several times before he finally spoke. "I really thought I could help, you know? She's not a bad person."

When Jim didn't respond, Blair pushed his hair behind his right ear and continued. "The first time it happened, I was sort of shocked. It was so quick and out of nowhere. It sort of sucker punched me, you know? And then later, we made up and the sex was so hot, man, it's hard to describe, like she was making up for doing what she did. After that, it just got worse. She'd get so pissed off, but then she'd be crying and apologizing. The next thing I knew, I'd be in her bed again." He paused and looked across the room at Jim, his voice tense and his eyes wide. "She didn't do this alone, man. I believed her when she promised it wouldn't happen again, that she'd do better."

"Until the next time."

"Yeah, I know. It's sounds naive. I believed her. Over and over. What does that make me?"

"Hopeful, trusting, all the things that make you a good man, Chief. It's just that sometimes that trust is misplaced."

"Tell me about it." Coming back to the table, Blair sat back down, his face still uncharacteristically solemn. "I was going to break up with her even before last night. She was starting to scare me."

"About time."

"You don't understand."

"You're right, I don't. Not completely. But it's not my place to play judge here." Jim reached over and took Blair's hand, his gut tight at the heartache he heard in his friend's words. "You know my track record, Blair. I'm not always the best judge of women, either. I think Lila and the rest prove that. I've been played once or twice, too."

Smiling shyly, Blair nodded. "Good thing we finally decided to hook up with each other, huh?"

"Damn straight."

"Well, not exactly, but I get your meaning."

"Well, detective, you sure do look happy this morning."

"Another case closed, sir. Just doing my duty."

Simon sat back and smugly puffed his cigar. "So this smiley face is only because you put away Bergman?"

"I didn't say that." Jim flushed, grateful he and his captain stood alone behind the closed doors of his office.

"Care to enlighten me?"

"You're a nosy man, sir."

"I'm a cop. That goes without saying. Still, you don't have to tell me. It's not like I expect you to announce the engagement or anything."

"I wish." The words slipped out and Jim sat down on the end of the table, the harsh reality of having to hide his relationship with his partner suddenly heavy. "If I weren't such a damn coward, I'd tell the world to fuck off and do just that."

"Don't go crazy on me, Jim." Simon's earlier grin faded. "You and Blair are both practical men." He hesitated and then corrected, "Well, you are anyway. Things are changing, but there's no reason to go asking for trouble."

"I'm only asking for what's fair. I've got enough secrets in my life. We shouldn't have to hide that part of our lives, too."

"No, you shouldn't, but you will for now, right?"

"For now." Meeting dark concerned eyes, Jim added, "But if anyone asks me directly, I won't lie about it."

Simon sat back relieved and tilted his head. "Come on, Jim. How many men would have the balls to ask you that directly?"

"Not many, but they might ask Sandburg, and I don't want Blair to have to lie, either."

"Shit, Jim, make it hard on yourself, why don't you?"

"I'm not doing it on purpose, Simon. I'm just tired of all the games."

Nodding in sympathy, his friend's expression softened. "Believe me, Jim, I understand that. I didn't get to be captain without playing a few of those myself. You just have to learn to roll with the punches. You're good at that and so is the kid." Frowning, Simon asked, "Speaking of the kid, where is he?"

"He's breaking it off with Collins today. I'm not sure when. He made me promise to stay away and not listen in."

"Ouch." Simon grimaced. "Bet that won't be easy."

"He's not looking forward to it."

"I wasn't talking about Sandburg."

Even more tense, Jim stood up. "You're right. It's not easy when all I want to do is go down and arrest her."

"Arrest her?"

"You didn't see the bruises. The hand was only one of many."

"Shit."

Jim took a long breath and stepped to the door. "At any rate, that part of his life will be over soon."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Maybe I should go down and talk to Collins myself. She's part of my crew, damn it. I feel responsible somehow. I had no idea."

"You weren't supposed to." Hand on the knob, Jim added sadly, "Sandburg made sure of that."

"But why? Why protect her? And why not at least defend himself?"

"All good questions. I'm still working on the answers."

Simon stood up and came to stand near him, his hand on his shoulder. "I'm here to listen if you need it, Jim. Tell Blair the same thing. I may be the captain, but I'm still your friend."

"Thanks, Simon. I appreciate that. I just think it's a matter of moving on."

"I hope so."

Surprised by the doubtful tone, Jim met his gaze. "What?"

"It's nothing."

"You sure?"

"I just think it might help if Blair saw someone about this."

Jim didn't look away, his own thoughts mirrored in the words of his friend. "It's a theory."

More than a little tense, Blair slipped into the chair beside him. "Hey, man, got a minute?"

"Sure." Jim noted the strained lines of his face and the tight lips. "You told her."

"Yeah. It's weird."

"What?"

"She didn't say much, but her eyes, man, talk about pissed."

"She'll get over it."

"I hope so." Shifting nervously in the chair, Blair asked, "Want to go to lunch?"

"I can't just this minute. I've got to finish up the paperwork on the Bergman case."

"It can't wait?"

"The DA wants it right away. Why don't I meet you over at the Golden Palace in an hour? We can talk then."

"Okay." Blair stood up and hesitated. "This is going to be hard."

"The worst is over, Chief. She can't hurt you now."

Keeping his voice low, Blair leaned in, one hand on Jim's shoulder, the other braced on the desk. "I'm not talking about Sam. I'm talking about wanting to kiss you goodbye."

Heat flushed Jim's skin as his cock twitched at the husky tones. "Shit, Blair, don't do that here."

"See, man. It's going to be hard."

"It already is."

Laughter trailed behind him as Blair left, his shoulders shaking as Jim tried not to hurt himself too much against his own unyielding zipper.

Jim stood and stretched, pleased with himself and life in general. The case finished, he had a hungry lover just waiting to add Ellison to the menu. He picked up the final reports and waved to Detective Brown. "Hey, H, the Bergman case file is done. Would you run it over to the DA's for me?" Jim glanced down at his watch as he added, "I was supposed to meet Sandburg for lunch ten minutes ago and it's over on Chelsea."

"Hey, man, call it payback. Hairboy's been late plenty of times."

"True, but do it for me anyway, okay?"

"Sure, no problem, man. I live to serve." The words came out easy as the detective picked up the folder and headed down the hallway.

Just as Jim turned, he stopped suddenly as Simon barged out of his office, his face near panic. "Grab your coat, Jim."

"What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Simon jerked Jim's coat off the rack and handed it to him as he kept heading for the elevator.

Following behind, the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Simon didn't act like this for no reason. As they reached the elevator, his captain hit the down button and Jim touched his sleeve. "What's wrong, Simon?"

The broad jaw clenched several times before Simon finally answered. "There was a hit and run over on Chelsea. The officer on the scene recognized Sandburg. He's been transported to the ER and we're on our way there."

The elevator dinged, but Jim stood frozen, his body suddenly unresponsive, his senses numb. A strong hand shook him. "Snap out of it, Jim. We don't have time for this."

Shaking his head, still foggy, Jim followed orders, stepping into the elevator behind Simon. As the doors closed, his friend spoke quietly. "We don't know how bad it is, Jim. It could be just minor injuries."

"Bad enough for transport."

"Yeah, but he's alive and Cascade General has the best trauma center in the state. He's going to be fine."

"And if he's not?" The words croaked from a dry throat, bouncing off the close walls.

"We'll worry about that if we have to."

The doors opened and a hand pushed at the small of his back, aiming him towards Simon's car. "I can drive."

"Yeah, right, Jim. Get in the car and snap out of it. Blair needs a partner who's all there."

Rubbing his face with both hands, Jim nodded, still not speaking, his mind reeling. Once inside, he buckled his seatbelt and stared ahead as Simon hit the highway, sirens blaring. After a few moments, he took several deep breaths, the world more clear, the sounds less distorted. "Were there any witnesses to the accident?"

"According to Officer Carter, a couple of pedestrians saw a red Mustang driven by a woman with dark hair. So far they don't have a license plate though."

"Samantha Collins drives a red Mustang."

"Yeah, I know. She's not at work, either. I put an APB out on her as soon as I got the call."

"Fuck. I should've seen this coming."

Racing through the traffic, Simon swerved several times before he answered. "What? You're a psychic now? Give it a rest, Jim. We'll worry about Collins later. Right now, let's just focus on Blair."

Jim nodded, his whole body tensing as they neared another intersection. He closed his eyes and fought off the dread dripping to his heart, the awful fear that they might arrive too late. Pushing away the morbid thoughts, he swallowed back his own terror and wished himself there.

Blair awoke slowly, the icy cold intense, the throbbing up his left side like solid hammer blows. "Shit."

"Lie still, Mr. Sandburg. You're doing fine."

"It hurts."

The woman's voice stayed professional, but softened slightly. "I know. I'm sorry about that. We're going to give you something for the pain shortly. We just wanted to be absolutely sure you didn't have a severe head injury first. Your hip and leg are badly bruised, but not broken. You've got some lacerations that need stitching, but there's no major internal bleeding. Your pressure's stable and your breathing's good. Do you remember me talking to you before?"

Swallowing hard, his mind rewound and recalled the earlier conversation as the trauma team cut off his clothes, his favorite jeans and leather jacket history. The neck brace kept him from nodding. "I remember. Hit and run. Where's Jim?"

"I'm not sure. Right now I need you to stay still and answer my questions while we finish checking you over."

Later, post-prodding and poking, draped only in a sheet, Blair drifted on the drugs pumped in through his IV, the earlier suffering a faint memory. He touched his hand to his bare neck, grateful for the freedom to move his head again. He called out to one of the three women working around him. "Nurse?"

The oldest one with blonde hair and kind green eyes turned around and answered first. "I'm Dr. Anderson."

"I'm sorry."

"No problem. Happens all the time. Do you remember me talking to you earlier?"

"Sure. I just didn't remember your name." He paused, his tongue clumsy around the words. "When can I go home?"

She stepped to the side of the bed and shook her head. "You're going to be admitted for observation. I'm just waiting on a bed. Don't worry. You're doing very well. It's just a precaution because of the amount of trauma."

"I'd rather go home. Jim can take care of me."

"Jim?"

"Jim Ellison. My partner."

"Your partner?" Before he could say more, she blinked a few times as understanding flickered. "I see."

"He must be going crazy."

"Does he go crazy often?"

The hard edge of the words brought his head up as he focused in on Anderson's thin face. "It's just an expression. I'm sure he's worried. Is he out in the waiting room?"

"I don't know. I've only talked to a Captain Banks."

"Then Jim's here, too. I need to see him."

Resting her hand on Blair's shoulder, her serious face darkened. "Mr. Sandburg, a lot of the bruises we found were suffered before the accident. I'm required to report suspected abuse to the local authorities. I didn't want to file any paperwork until I talked to you first. Can you tell me what's been going on in your life?"

A sinking sensation coupled with the drugs narrowed the light momentarily. After a few moments he struggled to speak, the words slurred. "It wasn't Jim if that's what you're thinking."

"You said he was your partner."

"Yeah, well, it's not what you're thinking. Besides, it's really none of your business."

Standing straighter, her expression sober, she pulled out a chart and wrote notations as she spoke. "That's where you're wrong. I'm requesting an abuse counselor speak with you once you're admitted. I don't want your partner left alone in the room with you until I'm satisfied about the situation." She stared at him, her voice more stern. "I can't force you to tell me the truth, Mr. Sandburg, but I hope you realize you don't have to stay with someone who abuses you like this."

Before he could manage a response, she left. Blair shook his head and covered his eyes with his free arm. "Fuck. Jim's going to kill me."

"Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"I said, detective, Mr. Sandburg isn't to be left alone with you until after he's been evaluated and I'm satisfied you're not the one responsible for his condition."

"I don't fucking believe this."

"Jim, settle down." Simon put his hand in the middle of Jim's chest as he stood between his best detective and the doctor staring accusingly in his direction.

"Did you hear what she just said? She thinks I'm the one who hit him."

"I heard." Simon kept his hand in place and turned his attention to Anderson, his voice low but tense. "I assure you, Doctor, Detective Ellison isn't to blame here."

"Then who is?"

Jim bit his lip and hissed, "The same bitch who tried to kill him."

"Ellison, I mean it. Settle down."

Stepping back from Simon's cautionary touch, Jim walked away, pacing several times before coming back to face down Anderson. "Listen to me, I'd never hurt Blair. Never."

Arms crossed, Anderson shook her head. "As much as I'd like to believe you, I can't take that chance." Stubbornly, she met Simon's eyes and continued, "Now, I realize you're his captain, but I also know that police have a high percentage of abuse toward their partners. I'm going to wait until I get Dr. Brody's report before I make my decision on what to do about this. Until then, I'm holding you personally responsible. Detective Ellison is not to be left alone with Mr. Sandburg while he's here. If you're not with him, security guards will be. Understood?"

"I understand your concern, doctor."

"Simon..."

"Be quiet, Jim." Simon shifted to face the doctor, his voice commanding. "Listen, you have my word on this. Jim Ellison isn't responsible for any of those injuries. Mr. Sandburg just broke up with his girlfriend and we're investigating her for the hit and run right now. Blair's in no danger from my detective, I assure you."

Dr. Anderson, arms still crossed and her face determined, held Simon's gaze several long moments as she gauged the power and the truth of his words. Still grim, she reluctantly looked over at Jim. "All right. But I warn you both, if I even suspect this is some kind of cover up, the Chief of Police is going to get a call."

"I don't blame you, but that's not happening here. So, when can we see him?"

"He'll be in his room in another hour. Keep the visit brief. I want him to rest."

As soon as she left, Jim shook his head. "Unfuckingbelievable."

"Jim, you can understand why she's concerned."

Running a hand over the top of his head, Jim sagged down in one of the nearby chairs. "I can't believe this. Why didn't he just tell her the truth?"

"Maybe he did. Maybe she just didn't believe him. I mean, it's hard to think of a guy getting beat up by a woman."

"Not when she's a fucking cunt." Slamming his fist in to the plastic chair beside him, he gritted his teeth as the couple nearby got up and moved to the far end of the room. "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm going nuts here."

"Well, you'd better calm down soon. Blair doesn't need this. He's got enough going on. She said his hip might lay him up for awhile. He's not going to like taking drugs for the pain, either."

Suddenly sobered, Jim shuddered. "I could've lost him, Simon."

"But you didn't, Jim, and with the Bergman case closed, you've earned yourself some downtime. You can take a few days and make sure Blair's okay."

Nodding, Jim swallowed hard. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. Something tells me that Blair's not going to like being forced to slow down to heal."

"Then I'll just have to make it worthwhile."

"How do you plan to do that?" Before he could answer, Simon shook his head and held up a hand. "No, don't tell me. I'll just use my imagination."

"Me, too, sir."

Standing by the hospital bed, Jim watched his lover sleep, the eyes under the closed lids jumping in rapid motion. A sudden jerk caught the younger man's breath as he gasped, "Jim!"

"I'm right here, Chief. Settle down. It's okay." Taking Blair's hand in his, Jim petted back the curly hair from his damp forehead. "Bad dream?"

"Oh, god." Blair closed his eyes again as he struggled to contain the horror with a shudder. Swallowing several times, he cleared his throat and looked back up at Jim. "I keep seeing her behind the wheel, man, only this time she hit you instead of me."

"It's just a dream."

"It seems so real."

"I know."

Blair squeezed his hand and groaned. "Man, my side hurts."

"I'm sorry." Jim cupped his lover's pale cheek, the rough whiskers burning his sensitive skin. "The doctor said it was going to be bad for awhile. They'll give you another shot in just a little bit."

"But the drugs put me to sleep."

"You need to rest."

Nodding, Blair sighed in reluctant agreement. He squeezed Jim's hand and then met his worried gaze. "I'll be okay, man. I still don't see why I can't go home now. I can sleep better at the loft."

Jim frowned and clenched his jaw several times before he spoke. "I'm thinking she didn't want you coming home with me until the shrink talked to you about what happened."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit. Why did you let her think it was me? Why didn't you just tell her the truth about Sam?

Blair turned his head away, his eyes closed again, but he didn't give up holding Jim's hand. "My mouth didn't work fast enough."

"First time for that, huh?"

"I told her it wasn't you, but she didn't believe me."

"Didn't believe me, either. Thank god for Simon."

"Shit. Simon knows, too?"

Jim leaned forward on the rail, his elbows braced as he stroked his partner's hand. "Blair, look at me."

Hesitating, Blair finally met his gaze. "I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was just trying to help."

"I know that. And you've got nothing to be ashamed of."

"Then why do I feel like such a dumbfuck? I mean, I should've seen all this coming."

"Maybe you should've gotten out of the relationship sooner, but there's no way you could've predicted this kind of thing. Collins has some serious problems."

Biting his lower lip, Blair's eyes blinked several times as he focused. "Have they found her yet?"

"We're still looking."

"Is she going to be arrested?"

Jim stood straight and let go of Blair's hand as he took a deep breath. "She tried to turn you into a fucking hood ornament, Sandburg. Of course, she's going to be arrested."

"Don't get pissed, man. I just think she needs help, not a jail cell."

"I'm not pissed. I'm just at a loss at figuring out what's going on in that head of yours. This woman beats the shit out of you, tries to kill you, and you're still worried about what happens to her?"

"How is that any different from what you did with Lila?"

Stunned by the comparison, Jim turned away and walked to the window. Hurt challenged the anger as he wrapped his arms around his chest, his muscles aching from the strain of containment. "Don't bring Lila into this. She's got nothing to do with your relationship with Samantha."

"Jim, she was a paid assassin, but even knowing that, you still tried to help her in the end. How is this any different? We can't always control who we care for."

"I know that."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So will you help to make sure she doesn't go to prison?"

Turning away, Jim stared out the window, the grey winter clouds flat and ominous. Gritting his teeth, he fought down the urge to shake some sense into his stubborn lover. Finally, several long moments later, he shook his head. "It's not up to me. Besides, we have to catch her first."

"Then talk to Simon. Tell him we have to help her."

The pleading tone planed the edges of his taut nerves, his tongue biting the words out. "You tell him. As far as I'm concerned, she fucking deserves whatever she gets." Stepping back to the bed, he noted the deep shadows haunting his lover's worried face. His voice softened into a hush. "Let's give this conversation a rest, Chief. You're tired. Close your eyes and try to get some more sleep."

Nodding weakly, Blair reached out his hand to Jim. Taking it, Jim leaned forward, lifting it gently to his mouth for a kiss. Blair smiled and closed his eyes as he whispered, "Love you, Jim."

"Love you, too, Blair."

"Promise me you won't hurt her unless you have to." As Jim pulled away, Blair tightened his grip. "Promise me."

Knowing his partner's strength and determination, Jim sighed reluctantly in surrender. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

Dark blue eyes blinked and stared. "Promise me, Jim."

"I promise."

"Well, I never said the woman was stupid." Jim glared through the two-way glass at Samantha Collins and her lawyer sitting at the interview table.

"No, she's not stupid. Cunning more like. Turning herself in with her lawyer present is about the safest way to end this." Simon turned to Jim, his voice steady. "You going to be okay with this?"

"I'm not going to shoot her if that's what you're asking."

"It's not, but I get your point. You don't have to be in there."

"Thanks, sir, but I can handle it."

"I just hope I can. Chaney's a slug, but he's a good lawyer." Simon put out his cigar and headed inside the room, Jim walking in right behind him. Once inside, Jim stood in the corner, his arms crossed as he watched his boss take a seat across from Samantha. "Now, you said something about a deal?"

Her lawyer answered for her. "Ms. Collins will plead guilty to a lesser charge if she's given the opportunity for a suspended sentence with mandated counseling and no jail time. She's also willing to go on indefinite medical leave from the department rather than face suspension."

"I'll bet she is."

"Captain Banks. You realize prosecution of my client would be costly and probably high profile. Her cooperation would save the city time and money, not to mention media embarrassment."

"Embarrassment?"

Samantha looked up and stared hostilely at Jim while she spoke for the first time. "If I go to trial, I'll tell the papers about how Ellison has a civilian partner who not only rides along with him, but sleeps with him, too. Something tells me the public would love the details of that little fuckfest." The venom of the words dripped in the air between them.

Chaney touched her arm and hushed her vehemently before he spoke. "Excuse me, Captain. My client's upset."

"If it weren't for that faggot, I'd still have Blair."

Jim stepped to the table as Simon stood up. "Don't, Jim."

"Don't worry, sir. She's not worth it." His chest constricted, Jim leaned in, his arms braced on the edge of the table as he kept his voice even. "Whatever happens, know this. You can't hurt him anymore, so go fuck yourself."

Standing straight, Jim turned. "I'm out of here, Captain. I'll be at the hospital if you need me."

As he left, Samantha cursed his back through the closed door. "Fucking queer."

Taking several long breaths, Jim steadied himself against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut against the ugly urge to bitch slap the woman into a very deep coma. Damn it. How could Blair love somebody so fucked up?

"Jim? Man, are you okay?"

Opening his eyes, Jim met Joel's worried gaze. "I'm fine. We've got Samantha Collins in custody."

Motioning at the door with his head, Joel asked, "She in there with the captain?"

"And her lawyer."

"No wonder you're pale." The older man touched his shoulder with sympathy. "That woman's not quite right."

"You can say that again."

Joel lowered his voice and leaned in. "Look, Jim, why don't we go get some coffee? We can talk about this thing if you need to."

"I need to go see Blair. The doctor said he might come home this afternoon."

Nodding, Joel glanced around before he spoke. "If you ever need to talk about this, I'm here. My sister was in an abusive relationship for years. Used to drive me crazy. No matter what I said, she never listened to me. I know what you're going through. It's frustrating. I might not have any answers, but I'm a good listener."

Jim patted his friend's shoulder with affection. "Thanks, Joel. I appreciate that. Besides, that's over now." As they walked down the hall, Jim asked, "Whatever happened with your sister?"

Joel hesitated before he finally spoke. "She died. Her husband shot her eight years ago after she tried to divorce him."

Stunned, Jim stopped stock still. "Shit, Joel. I'm sorry."

"Me, too, man." Sad dark eyes met his, the voice solemn. "Like I said, Jim, if you ever need to talk, come see me." Slapping Jim on the back as a goodbye, Joel walked back to the bullpen.

Staring at his friend's back, Jim shook his head, wondering about all the other shit he never knew about. Heading for the elevator, he took comfort in knowing that Blair wouldn't end up that way, that the violence he suffered would never again come from the same hand that claimed to love him.

Blair settled on the sofa with a soft groan, his injured leg up and resting across the cushions. Then he put the crutches on the floor off to the side, out of the way, but in reach if he needed them. "Man, it feels good to be home."

"You want something to drink?"

"Yeah, my mouth's full of cotton."

"It's the pain killers." Jim opened the refrigerator and asked, "You want water or juice?"

"Water's fine." As soon as Jim handed him the bottled drink, Blair chugged down half before he took another breath.

"Don't drown yourself."

"Don't worry. Been drinking this stuff for years." To demonstrate the point, Blair finished off the water and handed the empty back to Jim. "Thanks."

"Want another?"

"No, that's enough for now." Blair motioned to the end of the sofa. "Have a seat, Jim. You look about as tired as I feel."

Settling down easy, Jim took care not to dip too much, but noticed the wince at even the slightest movement. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm just sore as hell, that's all."

"Considering you got hit by a fucking car, you're pretty damn lucky to feel anything."

"Yeah, I know." Blair shifted uncomfortably and then let his head fall back. "So, they're going to make a deal with her, huh?"

"Looks like it."

"What does that mean exactly?"

Jim stared at his lover, Blair's eyes closed as he talked, his words not quite as crisp as usual. "It means she's going to have stay away from you for one thing."

"I'm down with that."

"And it means she has to go to counseling. Even if she leaves town, she's got to show evidence of ongoing therapy."

"Is she leaving town?"

"I don't know. It's just part of the details. She also has to agree to a gag order."

Blair's brow creased as he opened his eyes and looked at Jim. "Gag order?"

"She can't discuss the case with the press or write anything about it. If she does, the deal's off. Of course, you have to be okay with no prosecution for any of this to happen."

Struggling to sit up straighter, Blair grimaced several times before he found a comfortable position. Finally, his face pale and sweaty, he spoke quietly. "I've got no problem with that, but, Jim, what's the deal with the gag order?"

"She's using our relationship as a springboard for her defense. She says that if we don't deal, she's going to tell everyone she lost it because she couldn't stand losing you to a fag."

"She said that?"

"Worse."

"Shit." Stunned, Blair shook his head. "Isn't that like blackmail or something?"

"Or something. I call it extortion. Her lawyer calls it plea bargaining." Jim bit the words, forcing them out, the strain of control twisting his insides.

Pushing back a strand of hair behind his ear, Blair puzzled for a moment. "Doesn't that mean people know we're together?"

"Only those people directly involved in the case."

Blair met his eyes, his face serious. "How do you feel about that, Jim? People knowing about us?"

His voice suddenly softened as he reached out and stroked Blair's outstretched hand on the back of the sofa. "I'm fine with that, Chief. It's not a threat to me like she wants it to be."

"It's not?"

"No. As far as I'm concerned, anybody who's got a problem with us, well, they can get fucked."

Blair tilted his head, his face still tight, but not quite as shadowed. "It doesn't bother me, either, man. I just hope it doesn't cause us any grief at the station."

"It won't."

"But what if it does?"

Jim squeezed his hand gently. "Then we'll deal with it."

Nodding, Blair relaxed slightly as he touched his forehead, his hand shaking. "I think I need to lie down for awhile. I'm a little dizzy."

"You need help?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Jim handed him his crutches and carefully guided him to his old bedroom. He pulled down the blanket before easing his lover down gently and then lifting his legs up on the bed. "You want me to take off the sweats now or just leave them on?"

"Leave them on. I'm cold."

Covering his partner, Jim then pulled the chair closer as he sat down. "Just rest, Chief. I'll fix you something light for supper later."

"I'm not hungry."

"Maybe not now, but you will be." Palming his forehead, Jim leaned in and kissed him, the skin slightly warmer than it should be. "Sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Blair grabbed his hand as he pulled away. "Stay awhile."

Holding Blair's hand between both of his own, Jim smiled. "Forever long enough?"

"It's a start."

"So, how's the kid?"

Jim looked up from his file, his neck pinched and his head pounding. "He's using a cane and getting around better. Thanks for asking."

"Then I take it this scowl and surly mood combo is about something else?"

"I don't want to talk about it, sir."

Simon frowned, his eyes suddenly narrowed. "Jim, maybe we should go in my office."

"I'm fine. I'm just putting the final touches on this Bratcher report."

"Let me put this another way, detective. Come into my office."

Frustrated, Jim slapped the folder closed and stood up, his lips a thin line as he followed his boss into the other room. As soon as the door closed, Simon stepped to his desk and lifted the pot of coffee. "Want some?"

"No, sir." The words bit the air as Jim stood rigid, his arms crossed, and his jaw clenching between short breaths.

Taking his time, Simon poured himself a cup without speaking or looking over. As soon as he sat down, he met Jim's stony glare calmly. "Now you want to tell me what's bothering you or do you want to just stand there and break a tooth?"

Time dragged out another thirty seconds before Jim stepped to the window, pacing several times before he finally spoke. "I don't like this deal with Collins. No jail time, nothing. She runs down my partner and she doesn't serve a fucking day. What if she decides to do it again and Blair's not quick enough this time? What if she suddenly decides to use a gun instead of a car?" Jim met Simon's worried eyes and shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Grim, Simon leaned forward, his hands fisted together on the desk. "I can understand that, Jim. I mean, she's obviously got some problems or none of this would've happened. Still, she's accepted the terms and is going to therapy. She's also agreed to transfer to another station when she comes back from leave. There's no reason to even see her again."

"But is it enough?"

"I don't know, but you heard the DA. She's got no prior record. With Blair's unwillingness to testify, she'd probably get a suspended sentence anyway. This way we can at least monitor her behavior and there's no trial."

Jim snorted, the anger still boiling from inside. "I hate this."

"I know, but given the circumstances, it could've been a lot worse."

"Yeah, Blair could be dead."

"Be thankful he's not."

"I am." Jim stepped to the table and sat down, his back still straight, his body still too tense. "It's not just Samantha."

"What then?"

Jim hesitated, his hand rubbing his mouth before he finally spoke. "I'm worried about Blair. It's been over two weeks now and he's still refusing to go to the counselor the doctor at the hospital suggested."

"Did he say why?"

"He won't talk about it, not really."

"What does that mean, not really?"

"He says he doesn't need it."

Simon took a deep breath and sat back. "It's his decision, Jim."

"I know that. It's just that he's the one who's usually pushing for a resolution, for figuring things like this out. The fact that he's not, well, it just bothers me. Something's not right. It's like he's feeling guilty about what happened, like it was his fault."

"Or he's ashamed for people to know about it."

Frowning, Jim glanced up and nodded. "I've thought about that. Makes me wonder where all this is coming from. I mean, you know him, Simon. He's not some spineless goober who can't stand up for himself. So why pull this shit when it comes to Collins?"

"I don't know, Jim. I don't have any answers about that. What I can say is that if it bothers you this much, it's not me you should be talking to."

"I know that." Jim closed his eyes briefly before he stood up. "Thanks."

"Why don't you head out early? Things are kind of quiet now that you've stopped snapping everybody's head off."

Sheepishly, Jim shrugged an apology. "Sorry about that."

"Danish first thing in the morning might do the trick."

"And doughnuts?"

"And a muffin for Rhonda."

"Very good, sir."

Sitting at his desk, Blair scooted back his chair and groaned. His left hip and thigh ached, the throbbing growing worse the longer he sat. He rubbed his leg, massaging the muscle, wishing for Jim's talented hands instead of his own. He reached for his backpack to get the overdue pills when the knock came.

"Blair?"

He stiffened and turned, his heart racing. "Sam, you know you're not supposed to be here."

"I had to see you."

Blair closed his eyes and touched his forehead, his heart racing. "You promised to stay away. You could go to jail for just walking into the building. There's a court order."

"Please, Blair, I wanted to say I was sorry. Just give me five minutes and I'll leave." Gritting his teeth, Blair met the pleading gaze of his former lover. The long dark hair framed her pale face, the brown eyes not looking away as she begged, "Just give me a chance, Blair. Please."

"I gave you a chance when I agreed to the deal." Not moving from his chair, he wrapped his arms around himself to keep from shaking. "It's over between us."

"I know." Her voice broke as she stepped closer, her movements unnaturally nervous. "I understand that. It's just I needed you to try to understand what happened."

"I understand what happened. You tried to kill me."

The woman took a deep breath and nodded, the grey shadows on her face haunting. "I know I did it, but I swear I don't remember that part. All I remember is you telling me you were leaving me for Jim. All I could think about was you being with him, betraying me like that, telling him all about me, about us."

Air scraped a dry throat as Blair spoke quietly. "You know I wouldn't do that. I've never told Jim or anyone else anything you've told me in confidence and I never will. I promised."

"But you said you loved me, Blair. Isn't that a kind of promise?"

"I did love you, but I'm not sure you know what that is."

"And Ellison does?"

"Yeah, he does."

"But you're not even gay. How can you stand letting him touch you?"

"With Jim and me, it's not just about sex. It's about intimacy, too."

Turning away, head down and shoulders rounded, Sam spoke softly. "We slept together, Blair. That was intimate, or at least it was for me. Didn't that mean anything?"

"Of course, it did."

Moving to sit on the edge of the desk, she faced him, her voice strained. "Then why couldn't we make it work?"

"Because we fought all the time, too. You have to know what was going on between us was fucked up. I'm as much to blame as you are, Sam. I let it go on way too long. I should've broken it off after the first slap."

"But you always came back."

"I know. I thought I could make it better, but it never worked."

Leaning closer, her eyes narrowed, Samantha shook her head in denial. "We would've been fine if Ellison hadn't decided to fuck his way into your life."

"It's not like that. I never hid how I felt about Jim. You knew I had feelings for him."

"You're kidding yourself if you think you can be happy like this. I know what you like and a man can't give you that."

"You're wrong. Jim can give me everything I need."

"For now maybe."

"Forever."

Ignoring the last word, she tilted her head and studied him briefly. Tentatively, Samantha reached out to push back the hair from his face, her expression suddenly dreamy and lost. Her scent permeated the air, the musky perfume so warm and familiar. Skittish at first, he didn't pull away when she gently touched his forehead and spoke in a hush. "I miss you."

"I'm sorry, Sam. It won't work."

"We could try. Please?"

"No."

Blair braced himself for a blow that never came. Instead she stood up and stepped to the door. As she touched the knob, she hesitated, but spoke with a renewed confidence. "You'll change your mind. I know you better than you think. Pretty soon you'll get tired of all that Ellison bullshit. When you do, call me."

"That's not going to happen."

"I'll forgive you and we can start over."

"Forgive me for what?"

"For letting Ellison fuck your ass when you should be with me."

The door slammed and rocked the walls. Still reeling from the impact, Blair closed his eyes, his gut knotted.

"Fuck."

He said it only once, loud and with feeling.

But in his mind he said it over and over.

Jim glanced at the clock, worried, but not quite ready to panic. Six o'clock and no Blair could mean a lot of things, a late meeting, a student conference, unexpected traffic. It didn't have to mean a bloodied partner lying dead in the highway.

Adding another bay leaf to the sauce, Jim took a deep breath to clear his mind of the negatives and focused instead on what he wanted to say. The script ran easily in his head. He just hoped Blair knew his lines as well as he did.

Rehearsal ended with the key in the lock and Blair coming in, the hint of cold clinging to his clothes, and something else, something that shouldn't be there.

"Hey, Jim."

"Hey. You hungry?"

"Not really, but it smells good."

Jim remained quiet as he frowned, his mind clicking forward as he pushed back the anger. Blair dropped his backpack on the floor and shrugged off his coat. Leaning heavily on the cane, he walked to the sofa and sagged down. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, his head fell back and he closed his eyes.

"Long day?"

"Yeah. I never realized how many steps there are at the university."

"Maybe you should take a hot bath. Might help the soreness."

"In a minute."

Jim slipped off his apron and clenched his jaw as he stepped closer, his arms crossed. "Maybe you should do it now before that stench gets any stronger."

Blair opened his eyes and stared, puzzled at the word. "Stench?"

"You smell like Samantha."

"Shit."

"Were you going to tell me about it or try to hide it?"

"It's not what you think."

"You didn't answer the question."

Blair winced as he sat up straighter and then leaned forward, his face drawn and haggard. His loose hair fell wildly and he shook his head. "I don't know."

"Well, at least that's honest."

"She came by to apologize."

"You should've called it in."

"I couldn't."

Jim took a deep breath, the anger lessened by the sad and near desperate tone of his partner. Taking the seat next to Blair, he didn't touch him, but kept his voice steady. "Why not?"

"I just couldn't, Jim. I mean, what happens if I make a call like that? What does it look like? She looks like the victim and I look like the fucking asshole."

"Is that what you think? That she's the victim?"

"In some ways she is. It's not all her fault that things got out of hand. I could've left sooner."

"And she could've tried to kill you sooner. You're missing the point here, Sandburg. She's seriously unbalanced. She's broke the legal agreement about staying away from you. What does that say about her sticking to the rest of it?"

"I'll admit, it's kind of scary." Looking down at his hands, Blair avoided eye contact. "I don't know what to do, Jim. I don't want anyone else to get hurt, but I don't want her in jail, either. She doesn't deserve that."

"You have to report what happened, Chief. We have to document what's going on. I know you still care about what happens to her, but this isn't the way to help her get better." He touched his friend's shoulder gently. "This time it might be just showing up to apologize, but who knows about later? Next time she might decide talking isn't good enough. She might come after you again with a knife or a gun."

"Or she might come after you instead." The words shook as Blair finally looked up and met his gaze. "She hates you, Jim. She really believes that if you're out of the picture, that I'd go back to her."

"And would you?"

Air stalled as Blair stopped breathing. After a few moments, he spoke in a narrow hush. "How can you ask me that, Jim? Fuck, man, how can you even think that?"

"Because when it comes to Samantha, you don't act like yourself. Anybody else and they'd be behind bars. Anybody else and you wouldn't have to ask what to do. What is it about this woman that makes you take this shit over and over?"

Blair eased himself back, his face tight, his body stiff as he tried to find a more comfortable position. After a few moments, he took several deep breaths before he finally spoke. "It's complicated."

"You said that already. I need some answers."

"I know you do, and I want to explain, but I can't. I don't even know for sure myself."

"You must have some idea."

"Yeah, I've got some theories."

"Such as?"

"Such as I wanted to help her, thought I could save her, but I fucked up."

"Fucked up how?"

Blair's voice strained the words as he crossed his arms around chest. "I thought if I was patient enough, willing enough to listen, that things would get better. They never did. In fact, it seemed like the more I tried, the more pissed she got. Nothing I did worked except for the sex."

"Worked how?"

"Bed was the only place I had any control over her. She'd calm down afterwards and be so loving. She was like a different person. I always thought the next time would be better."

"But it never was."

"No, it never was."

"You must know how fucked up that sounds."

"Thanks, man. That makes me feel so much better."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, Jim, I do."

Jim hesitated before he started his own script. "Maybe you should consider going to see the counselor the doctor suggested at the hospital."

"Maybe."

"We need to figure this thing out so that it doesn't happen again."

"We?" Blair tilted his head and frowned. "Does that mean you'd be willing to go with me?"

Startled, Jim studied the tense features of his lover, the blue eyes shadowed. "Would that make it easier?"

"You mean you'd consider it?"

"I might. I mean, I want to understand this thing as much as you do."

"But you haven't done anything."

Uneasy, Jim took a deep breath and left his rehearsed lines behind him. "I've never hurt you physically, that's true, and I never would, but Simon said something the other day that kind of jarred me."

"Simon? What'd he say?"

"He said something about it being a pattern with you to take shit from people you cared about."

"He said that?"

"Yeah."

"Damn. And he was talking about you?"

"Yeah, when he explained it, I could see how he might see it that way. I was just wondering if you saw it that way, too. Do you think I treat you like shit sometimes?"

"No. Never."

"Never?"

"I can't believe Simon would say something like that. I mean, sure you get a little grumpy from time to time, but that's not just with me. It's with everyone. Plus, I always know when you're acting like a dick, it's for a reason."

"Like a dick? I act like a dick?"

"Sometimes."

"Shit."

"It's no big deal, Jim. It's just the way you are. I mean, I act like a dick sometimes, too, man. We all do."

"When do I act like a dick?"

Blair groaned and shut his eyes. "Forget it."

"I don't want to forget it. I want you to make a list of all the times I acted like a dick. I need to know this shit so I can stop it." Caught off guard, Blair laughed out loud, his whole body shaking. "What? I'm serious here, Sandburg. What's so fucking funny?"

Opening his eyes, still grinning, Blair shook his head and held out an inviting hand. "Come here, dickhead." Suspicious, Jim resisted. "Why?"

"Just come here, man."

Scooting over carefully, Jim relaxed into the gentle hug. The warm squeeze flushed his skin as he sank against the firm heat of Blair's body. He dialed down his sense of smell to blot out Sam's scent and focused instead on the touch of Blair's fingers petting the top of his head and hearing his rich voice near his ear. "I love you, Jim."

"Even if I am a dick sometimes?"

"Especially if you're a dick sometimes. Besides, you're my dick."

Sinking into the hold, Jim spoke in a hush. "I'm sorry, Blair. I never want to hurt you."

"I know that."

As he rested there, he whispered, "Want to go upstairs?"

"Let me take a quick shower first while you turn off the sauce."

"No need to shower." Jim sat up and caressed his lover's face, the eyes a darker blue than ever. "Let me cover her scent with something better than perfume."

Blair's husky voice made him shiver. "I'm all yours, Jim. Mark me any way you want to."

"You want me to drive you to school this morning?"

"No. David's going to swing by on his way in."

"What about coming to the station later?"

"Call me around noon and we'll see. We'll have lunch first."

Jim glanced over at his lover, the skin less pale, the eyes less squinted behind his glasses as he tapped the keys to his laptop. Smiling, Jim thought good loving and sound sleep should never be underestimated as just the right medicine for what ails a man. Impulsively, he stepped behind Blair and wrapped his arms around his partner's neck, kissing him gently on his cheek while he hugged him. As he pulled a way, Blair's hand stilled him. "What was that for?"

"Just felt like it."

"Thanks." Blair's voice choked around the word before he let go of Jim's arm.

"You okay, Chief?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Allergies."

"Of course." Jim smiled at his partner's quick emotion, moved by it as he ran his fingers gently up the side of his face. "Pesky things, allergies."

Blair didn't answer, but nodded, his face flushed as he turned his attention back to his computer screen. His breath quickened slightly as he opened up an email. "Shit."

"What?"

"I don't believe this."

"What the hell is it?" Jim leaned in and read over his shoulder, the hateful words like queer and faggots practically jumping off the screen. "Oh, that's beautiful, just fucking beautiful."

"Oh, man, this sucks."

"What's going on, Chief? Who sent that shit?"

"We've been added to the campaign lists of about 6 different anti-gay groups. They want to save our asses for the Lord, looks like."

Jim swallowed his anger, his temper ready to boil just under the surface. "Guess we don't have to go far to figure out how that happened."

"We don't know for sure she did it, Jim."

"Yeah, right. Who else would it be?"

Blair shrugged as he deleted most of the anti-gay spam in his mailbox. "Could be anybody who found out about us. It doesn't have to be Sam. Don't worry. I'll block the addresses. It's not a big deal."

Grinding his teeth to restrain himself, Jim stood up straighter and walked over to the hook to grab his black leather jacket. "Believe what you want, Sandburg, but this has the nasty flavor of your ex. Speaking of which, I expect you to make that report about her surprise visit like you promised."

"I said I would and I will. I'll do it first thing this afternoon, okay?"

"Okay." Slipping on his coat, Jim shook his head as he touched the doorknob. "It's psychological warfare, Chief. She's trying to wear you down, to wear me down."

"Is it working?"

"Not on your life."

"Good. So go to work and be careful. Call me at my office."

"Sure thing."

Once outside, Jim worked to keep himself controlled, his body tense as he made his way outside to his truck. The wind whipped his face and he remembered the forecast of sleet and rain later. As he fetched his keys from his pocket, he paused and frowned. Sniffing the air, his face wrinkled. "Shit. No fucking way."

Stepping to the front of the car, he ignored the dirty, wet pavement and scooted under the car enough to angle himself to see what he could smell so clearly. The C4 strapped to his engine had a wire running all the way up to the ignition. "Fuck."

Wiggling back out, he sat up and cleaned himself off before he pulled out his cell phone and used his speed dial. "This is Detective Ellison. I need the bomb squad at 852 Prospect. Then give me Captain Banks."

After a few moments, Simon's voice boomed into his ear. "Jim? What the hell is going on?"

"Collins just bought herself a ticket to jail, sir."

Simon chewed and puffed away at his cigar, wound up tight as Joel and his team finished taking away the last of the bomb. "I want this scene done by the book. Everything checked twice and then checked again with a fine-tooth comb. Got that?"

"Yes, sir." Nankivel, the new head of the forensics team, nodded and set to work gathering any evidence they might be lucky enough to find.

"She was good at her job, Simon. She knows all the tricks."

Simon frowned as he turned and stared back, his face tight and determined. "I don't give a shit what she knows, Jim. We'll canvas the neighborhood. A woman who looks like Collins couldn't wire your truck out here on the street without somebody seeing it."

Jim nodded, his attention directed more toward Blair standing nervously in the doorway, his cane in one hand, his other stuffed deep in his pocket. As he spoke, he kept his eyes trained on his partner. "Yesterday she broke the restraining order and talked to Sandburg."

"And you're just now telling me about it?"

"We were going to file the report this afternoon."

"Go down and file it now. It's enough to bring her in and we'll work on the bomb thing while we've got her in custody."

"You think the charges will stick this time?"

Simon motioned his head toward Blair and snapped, "If the kid will stop messing around, they should. If she broke the court order, we can hold her at least until we get another hearing. By then we'll hopefully have something to link her to the bomb."

Jim shook his head. "I've already checked the whole scene. There's not even a piece of dandruff."

"Then we better be able to bluff or hope to hell some of your neighbors were paying more attention than you were last night."

Startled at the accusing tone, Jim met his friend's concerned eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Simon glanced over at Blair before glaring back at Jim. "I just think you can't afford distractions until this is over."

"Blair's not a distraction. Besides, I can't be on guard every damn minute."

"I know that, damn it." He hesitated just a moment before adding, "I'm sorry." The tense shoulders relaxed slightly as Simon reached out and touched his forearm. "Look, why don't you and the kid go downtown and take care of the reports? After that, just be careful until we have this woman in custody." Stepping closer, Simon lowered his voice to a rough whisper. "She's gone off the deep end, Jim. There's no way she could think she could get away with this."

"The problem is, she does believe it. She thinks that if she gets me out of the way, she'll have Blair back."

"Just be careful, Jim. Give me a hardened criminal over a head case anytime."

"Amen."

"Hey, guys." Blair interrupted their chat by limping up beside them. "I really hate to leave like this, but I need to get to school. I've got a class in less than an hour."

"You're not going to school, Chief. We've got to go downtown and fill in some reports."

"But, Jim..."

"No buts, Sandburg. I want you and Jim to get down there and do the paperwork so we can pick up Collins. I'll have one of the patrol cars take you."

"We could take my Volvo."

"We'd like to get there some time today."

"Very funny, Jim. My car's a classic."

"A classic piece of junk that is less reliable than getting sunny days in Cascade."

"That is so harsh, man."

"Not as harsh as a bomb under the hood, my friend."

"I'm telling you, Captain Banks, I have no idea where my client is."

"And I'm telling you to get her ass in here."

Chaney shifted uneasily in his chair and shook his head. "I wish I could. I really do. She's gone against my advice at every turn."

"Well, if we can link her to the bomb in Ellison's truck in addition to all the other charges, she's going to need more than your advice to stay out of prison."

Standing, Chaney looked over at Jim as he straightened his tie. "I'm sorry, detective. I'd help you if I could, but I can't. She hasn't answered any of my calls and she's failed to meet her doctor for her mandated appointment."

"Surprised?"

"Of course. She knows the conditions of her release."

"Which she's broken."

"I'm afraid so, yes. Still, I'd like to point out that if we go to trial on this, I'll have a doctor's report to support my claim of diminished capacity."

"Diminished capacity or not, she's going to jail as soon as we find her. If I find out that you're aiding and abetting, you can have the cell right next to hers."

Frowning, Chaney shook his head as he picked up the briefcase. "Idle threats don't scare me, Ellison. I realize you're upset, but be careful what you say. Everything I do, I do inside the law."

"More's the pity. If she contacts you, you tell us. Got that?"

"Yes, I've got that."

Jim stepped closer, his voice lower, more intimidating. "If anything happens to my partner because you're holding out on us, no court will protect you."

Simon touched his arm lightly before Chaney answered. "Settle down, Jim. Our friend here knows what's at stake, right, Mr. Chaney?"

The older man swallowed hard and nodded, his composure no longer casual. "I understand. I've got no reason to wish you or your partner harm, Detective Ellison. If she calls me, I'll do whatever I can to get her to surrender."

"You do that."

"In the meantime, don't hesitate to call if she turns herself in."

"Yeah, right." Jim crossed his arms in disgust and turned away, his belly knotted as he imagined Samantha out there loose, waiting and armed, knowing how to target a victim better than most people on the force.

As soon as Chaney left, Simon stood beside him. "Asshole."

Jim glanced sideways and smiled grimly. "Got to you, too, huh?"

"Sometimes it's hard to figure we're all supposed to be on the same side."

"I know what you mean. Seems like the lawyers work more for the crooks than the good guys. So, now what?"

"What about a safehouse?"

"No way. This thing could drag on for weeks."

"God, I hope not. Okay, how about I put some guards on your place until we find her?"

"The brass isn't going to like that."

"Forget the brass. I'll use volunteers."

"It could be awhile."

Simon met his eyes, his face serious. "I've got people for as long as it takes, Jim. You have to know we're all behind you here."

"Do I?"

Brow crinkled, Simon asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"I just mean Sam may have put a bomb in my car this morning, but someone bombed Sandburg's email last night. Seems we've been outed on the net to all kinds of gay hate groups. At first I figured it was probably Collins, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought maybe not. Do you think anyone around here might have a problem with us being together?"

Simon pursed his lips and rubbed the back of his head as he pondered the question. After a few moments, he shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't heard anything directly, but..."

"But what?"

"I heard that there were some grumbles from a few other quarters."

"Other quarters? Like what other quarters?"

"I don't know for sure. The lab and records maybe. Might be some friends of Collins. I'll put some feelers out and see what I turn up. Meanwhile, everyone who's volunteered can be trusted to watch your back or I wouldn't risk it."

"Thanks, Simon. I appreciate it."

Slapping his back, Simon turned and walked over to the window overlooking the bullpen. As he stood there peering through the shades, he motioned at Blair sitting at Jim's desk. "Take him home, Jim. He looks about ready to drop."

"He really cared about her, Simon. He's having a hard time with all this."

"I can imagine. I'll set Rafe and Brown up for the first watch. Taggart and Jones have opted for later on."

As Jim touched the doorknob to leave, Simon added, "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't have to remind you of how dangerous she is. If she gets inside, don't hesitate to take her down with any means necessary."

"I won't."

"And Sandburg?"

"What about him?"

"If he sees you kill her, what will that do to him?"

"I hope we don't have to find out, but if we do, I'm hoping he's strong enough to live with it."

"And if he's not?"

Jim didn't speak, but headed out to collect Blair and go home, home where he hoped he'd never have to find out the answer.

"I feel like a prisoner."

"Come sit down, Chief. It doesn't do any good to dwell on it."

"I just don't get why she's doing this. I really fucked up this time."

Jim put down his newspaper and frowned. "Don't start that again. This isn't about you. People like Collins get obsessed and they do all kinds of crazy shit. There's no way you could've known about this."

Pensive, Blair stared out the window a few moments longer before he limped back to the couch and eased himself down. Eyes pinched shut, he stifled a groan as he rubbed his left hip and leg.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just sore."

"You need another pill?"

"I haven't taken any today. I'm trying to taper off."

"Taper off? Shit, Blair, no wonder you've been dragging around." Jim fetched the pain medication and some water and handed them over to his partner. "Take these and no argument."

As soon as Blair swallowed, Jim asked, "What about the antibiotics? You've still got some left. Aren't you supposed to take those, too?"

"Don't fuss. I took those earlier. I'm fine. Really."

Jim took in the sweaty brow and the pale face, the breathing more labored than it should be. "Yeah, right. I'm fixing you some tea and then you're going to bed."

Instead of arguing, Blair just nodded and closed his eyes. "Okay. I am a little tired."

Worried, Jim put the water on to boil and kept watch over his partner. By the time the tea finished, Blair slept, his mouth slightly open, his breaths short warm puffs. Rather than wake him, Jim draped the red cover over his body and tucked in the edges, hoping the awkward position didn't leave a crick in his neck by morning.

Sitting down at the table, Jim focused and extended his senses. From outside he heard Brown and Rafe arguing about the last Jags score while the neighbors down the hall laughed about an old I LOVE LUCY episode. The bakery smelled of fresh croissants and nowhere nearby did anyone smell like Samantha. Shaking his head, he cleared his head and turned his attention back to his sleeping companion. In his slumber, Blair's face crinkled with worry, the latest drama even inflicting itself on his dreams.

His bladder checked in and complained so he stood up and headed to the bathroom. Midstream, the phone rang. "Fuck."

Before he could zip and get back to the living room, he heard Blair answer, "Sandburg."

"Blair?"

"Samantha, where the hell are you?"

"It doesn't matter. I need you to come back."

"Jesus, Sam. You know I can't do that. What were you thinking? You put a fucking bomb in Jim's truck."

"I don't give a fuck about Jim."

"That doesn't give you a right to blow him up. I mean, what the fuck is that all about?"

Jim stepped in the hallway motioning for Blair to keep her talking. Pulling his cell phone out, he called for a trace.

"I did it for us."

"You've got to turn yourself in, Sam. They've issued an armed and dangerous bulletin. You could get killed."

"Would it matter?"

"Of course it would matter. I still care about you."

"Liar."

"Come on, Sam, don't be like that. You just need to calm down and think about this. You need help. We can still figure something out."

"Like what? Like you keep pretending to care? Fuck that. My life's over. Everything I worked for is gone because of you. Fuck you, Blair Sandburg. Fuck you forever."

As Jim heard the sound of the officer relaying the number and location of the call, he heard the faint sound of a gun cocking across the other line.

"Oh, shit."

The explosion of the shot thundered in the room, his hearing hammered as he watched Blair's stunned face grow more ashen. His mouth rounded as he screamed and dropped the receiver. "No!" His eyes squeezed shut as he hugged himself and shook his head. "This can't be happening."

Barking into the open line, Jim called for all available units to respond to the scene of Sam's call while he hurried to his partner's side. Blair flinched back at his touch, but then settled into his arms as Jim overpowered his resistance. "It's okay, Chief. It's okay. I've got you."

"Jesus, Jim. Tell me she didn't just do that. Tell me she was just mindfucking us again. Please."

"I don't know. We're checking it out."

Shaking in his arms, Blair's tears wet his shirt as he forced out the words. "It's so wrong, man."

"I know. Just relax. It's going to be okay."

After several long minutes of rocking, the cell phone rang. Jim picked it up and listened, his jaw muscles clenched at painful levels. He closed his eyes at the news and muttered a quick dismissal.

"Tell me, Jim."

"I'm sorry, Chief. I really am."

"Fuck."

Still holding Blair in his arms, he soaked in the deep shudder and agreed completely.

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do, Jim. There's nobody else." Blair stood in the middle of the waiting area for the Morningdale Rest Home. He stepped over to the upright piano and fingered the keys lightly. "She used to play Chopin's Nocturnes whenever she got really down. Did you know she could play the piano?"

"No, Blair, I didn't know that. I didn't know her at all, not really."

"You could wait outside if you want. This won't take long."

"You want me to wait outside?"

"It's up to you."

"I'd rather wait with you then."

"Okay."

"Mr. Sandburg?" An older man dressed in a formal black suit stood in the doorway. His thin shoulders hunched slightly forward as he stepped closer.

"Yes, and this is my friend Jim Ellison."

Extending a hand for a quick shake, the other man nodded. "I'm Ken Forrest. We talked on the phone. I'm so sorry to hear about Ms. Collins. Such a devoted daughter. She used to come out every other weekend no matter what."

"I know. How's her mom doing?"

The pale features wrinkled with concern. "Not very well, I'm afraid. Mrs. Jacobs has never been very strong, not since her last stroke. We're not even sure she understands about her daughter's death. It's just a matter of time, really."

"And her care won't be altered by Samantha's death?"

"No, Ms. Collins was very sure about that. She called just last week, in fact, and made arrangements in case something happened. I wish more of our clients were as thoughtful as she was. Such a shame to lose someone so young. A real pity." The older man shook his head and tutted, his eyes focused on something other than the present.

Blair nodded in agreement, his voice steady, but strained. "Could I see Ms. Jacobs?"

"Of course. Follow me."

Side by side, Jim and Blair walked silently behind Mr. Forrest. Once at the tiny room, Jim dialed down his sense of smell almost to zero. He didn't need sentinel senses to know the scent of death lingered too near for comfort.

"Don't stay long. She's very weak. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Thank you." As soon as Forrest left, Blair stepped to the edge of the bed and whispered, "Mrs. Jacobs? It's Blair Sandburg. Remember me?"

A gaunt face with sunken brown eyes turned in his direction. Wispy strands of grey hair clung to the pillow, spikes of it poking out all around her large head. The tongue licked the lips several times before the raspy voice managed a word. "Sammy?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jacobs, Sammy couldn't come today."

"Sammy?"

The pleading tone gutted Jim's belly as he watched Blair's face grow more and more sad. "Chief, maybe we should go?"

"It's okay, Jim." Blair turned his attention back to Samantha's mother and took her frail hand, careful of the IV line and monitor wires. "Mrs. Jacobs, I just wanted to tell you how much Sammy loved you. She talked about you all the time."

A weak smile twisted the thin lips, the breaths short and gasping as she nodded. "Sammy...Sammy's a good girl."

"Yes. I just needed to let you know she's at peace now."

Haunted eyes closed and breathing shortened. Mrs. Jacobs drifted off as Blair still held her hand. After a few moments, Jim whispered, "Come on, Chief. Let's go. There's nothing more you can do here."

Reluctantly, Blair released the woman's hand and then leaned in far enough to kiss her forehead. He petted back her ultra fine hair as he spoke softly. "Sleep well, Mrs. Jacobs."

As they walked out together, Blair remained quiet, his limping step slowing their exit. By the time they reached the truck, he staggered and steadied himself against the hood.

"You okay?"

"No, not really."

"I'm really sorry you have to go through all this."

Looking up, Blair met worried eyes, his face drawn and weary. "Let's go home, Jim. I'm tired and cold and, frankly, this place is too damn depressing for words."

"You've got that right."

Inside the truck, Blair fastened his seatbelt while Jim buckled up and started the engine. "You know what, Jim?"

"What?"

"We're one of the few cultures who do that to our elders."

Jim didn't have to ask what his friend meant. He'd been thinking the same thing. "With the Chopec we honor the old ones. Incacha would be sick if he saw a place like this."

"Samantha hated putting her mother here, but she couldn't care for her, not after the stroke anyway. I guess that was part of the stress that put her over the edge."

"Come on, Blair, a lot of people have a parent in a nursing home. They don't go around putting bombs in people's cars or running down old boyfriends."

"I know that." Blair stared out the window as they headed for the highway, his voice stretched and distant. "I guess I'm just trying to find a reason, that's all. It all seems so fucking pointless."

"Samantha was ill, Blair. Reason's got very little to do with it."

"Actually there were a lot of reasons for the way she acted."

"Let me guess. She was abused as a kid, right? My guess is probably a step father or some other asshole she trusted."

Startled, Blair turned his head and frowned. "How did you know that?"

"Doesn't take a genius to see the signs."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Why? Whatever the reasons, Blair, she still needed help and refused to get it. It's not an excuse for anything that happened."

"I know that, too, but it helps to understand it just a little. I mean, that kind of thing is hell on a person's self image. We used to talk a lot about it, but never seemed to get anywhere. I just never knew what to say to make it better."

"You listened. That had to count for something. Maybe that's why she fell for you the way she did. Unfortunately, she showed those feelings the only way she knew how, with anger and the same abuse she grew up with."

"You're probably right."

Jim took a deep breath and kept his eyes on the highway as he asked the next question. "What about you, Blair? Why did you think it was okay for her to do that?" When his friend didn't answer, Jim glanced over, his heart catching at the woeful expression. "Chief?"

"It's not easy to talk about."

"What's not?"

"How it feels to need someone like that."

"You mean someone who hurts you?"

"No. To need someone who needed me." He bit his lower lip before he continued, his arms wrapped tightly around his body. "And I hate to admit this, but I enjoyed the danger of it, the intensity we had when we fought and then made up again."

"Jesus, Chief."

"Yeah, man, I know. It's just that before you, I always kept intimacy separate from sex. I didn't know it could be like this between two people."

Taken aback, Jim avoided driving into a ditch, but just barely. Slowing down, he cleared his throat. "Really?"

"Really. All this time I tried to intellectualize everything, to control and study it, but it didn't work." His voice softened to a low hush. "I fell in love, Jim. Life before this was measly and pale compared to my life with you."

"Measly and pale, huh?"

"Not to mention more than a little fucked up."

"Just a little." After a short pause, Jim added, "I love you, too, by the way."

Smiling, Blair touched his arm, his face no longer quite as sad as before. "I know." Pointing to the next sign, Blair leaned in closer. "There's a Best Western up ahead. Got your AAA discount card?"

Surprised, but laughing out loud, Jim shook his head and whipped across two busy lanes to make the exit in time.

Waking slowly, Jim stretched and found his bed empty. Eyes snapped opened as he listened for Blair sounds somewhere around him. Below he heard the steady heartbeat and breathing that calmed the quick panic. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and noted the time of only 4:30. He reached for his robe and headed downstairs to find Blair sitting on the sofa in a low light as he wrote notes on a legal pad.

"Chief? What's going on? Couldn't sleep again?"

Looking up, Blair stopped writing and took off his glasses. "Sorry, man. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Jim stepped closer and straddled the armrest. "You okay?"

Blair pushed back his hair and shrugged. "I guess. It's just I close my eyes and I hear her voice and that godawful sound all over again."

"It takes awhile, Chief. It's only been a few days."

"I know." Blair sighed and lifted the pad in his lap. "Anyway, I thought I'd try to distract myself with some things I need to do for school. I'm really behind right now."

"You need to rest, too."

"I know."

A moment of quiet lingered between them as Jim slipped off the edge of the sofa and scooted in beside his lover. He hugged him gently as he kissed his temple. "Come on back to bed, Blair."

Nodding, Blair let Jim pull him to his feet and they made their way up the stairs. Jim slipped off his robe and then spooned himself in behind Blair's compact body, his cock waking up as it pushed against firm asscheeks.

Blair gripped his hands around his waist and sighed, "You feel great, man."

"You, too, Chief." Nuzzling his neck, he drank in the rich Blair scent, dizzy with the promise of holding his lover forever.

The low moan inflamed him even more as Blair pushed back against him, his ass rubbing its invitation. Slipping his hand down between them, he eased off Blair's boxers and freed his lover's leaking erection. Hot flesh pressed into his palm as he wrapped and stroked to the same rhythm he used against his backside.

Still on his side, Jim stopped moving long enough to take off his own shorts and retrieve the KY and condom from the bedside table. Blair panted as he spoke, the voice all husky and needy. "Hurry, Jim. I'm close, man."

Instead of answering, Jim ripped open the package, rolling on the latex and then slicked his finger with lube. Using one hand to steady his partner, he urged Blair's knees up, careful of the bruised hip and leg muscles. With the other, he fingered the tight hole, his slippery digits easing the pucker open, the low groans and whimpers begging him to go harder and deeper. Still cautious, he held his cock in place as he pressed forward, easing in, the stretch of the ring tight, the sudden spasm coupled with Blair's gasp stilling his progress.

"You okay?"

"Give me a minute. God, it hurts so good, man."

After a few more moments, Blair shoved back and groaned even louder, "Now, Jim."

Baby jabs started, tiny thrusts inward until his whole cock buried itself deep inside Blair Sandburg. Swallowed up by the sensation, heat flared through him, his body flushed with the connection. He whispered in Blair's ear, "I love you."

"Me, too, Jim. Now come on, man, fuck me."

The words so hushed and primal seared a command to Jim's center, his body heaving up as he did just that. Ramming in and out, the drawing force of his world focused on his groin, his balls bouncing and tight, winding up the wire that fired every nerve cell. Pressure swarmed and buzzed his brain as passion swelled into pleasure. Release arrived quickly as Blair jerked suddenly, his own spasm not far behind, the flashes bright and blinding behind squeezed lids. He held on tight as Blair shook against him, the wild guttural scream buried into the pillow as his partner bucked even harder with coming.

Jim didn't let go right away, but gentled his hug just a little as Blair's breathing slowed down and his muscles relaxed slightly. Without speaking, he eased out of his partner, and threw away the condom. Reaching to the bedside table, he grabbed a cloth and wiped Blair's bottom before pushing his lover on his back. Dipping down, he licked off and cleaned Blair's limp cock with his tongue, the sharp tang flavored with musk, the springy hairs teasing his nose. Hands petted his head as he finished with one final long swipe. He shifted to hold Blair in his arms, the younger man's head resting on his sweaty chest. Kissing the top of his damp curls, he whispered, "Feel better, Chief?"

"Better doesn't half cover it, Jim. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here, for showing me it doesn't have to hurt to be real."

Jim hesitated and sighed. "You're going to the counselor this afternoon, right?"

"Yeah. You coming with me?"

"Try to stop me."

Blair chuckled drowsily as he snuggled in close. "Wouldn't dream of it, man. You're more stubborn than I am."

"Who says?"

"Everybody?"

"Everybody doesn't know you like I do." Relaxing, Jim closed his eyes and pulled up the sheets.

"I'm not stubborn."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

Jim shook his head in surrender and after a few moments, he whispered, "Go to sleep, Chief."

Soft snores tickled his chest as he smiled and joined his guide in the lush jungle dreams of the future, dreams full of adventure and life together.