Author's webpage: http://www.skeeter63.org/~k9kennel/

Author's disclaimer: I own them, I feed them, they speak, I listen. They fuck, I watch. :) And I have to go back to the home now. My medication awaits.

Author's notes: More thanks than I can express to Greenwoman and melvin who did the beta work. And to welp :) for whom this was written. And yes, the nickname welp is used in the story and is not spelled incorrectly. :)

Warning: For those who enjoy being spoiled (like me) jump to the end of the story for the caveat and warnings.

Everything's Jake - Part One
by alyjude

Six weeks and it was still strange.

Strange to turn right onto Mitchell Ave instead of left. Extremely strange to have a garage in which to park the Volvo and stranger still to walk through an archway and into a quiet garden courtyard with only the sounds of birds, a gurgling waterfall spilling into a pond and the occasional laughter or closing door.

It was odd to have no stairs or elevator either. He simply had to walk into the courtyard from the rear, turn right, step up and he was at his front door. His large, oak door with etched glass and black wrought iron fixtures.

But the final oddity was entering this paradise - alone. Stranger still to open the door into his own home, a home with no James Joseph Ellison by his side, or inside or soon to be arriving.

Stepping into the small foyer, he was once again astounded by the quiet emptiness. Not void of the feeling of home, but empty of Jim Ellison, of his presence.

And Blair had never realized how noisy 852 Prospect had been. How the sound of the elevator had always been just outside his consciousness, or how the traffic noise or the sounds of the city just beyond the large windows had always been a continual, if slightly discordant symphony. And the neighbors, the constant flow of comings and goings, of people living their lives at 852.

It had taken him time to figure out what was missing, besides the obvious, but once he'd recognized the absence of sound, he'd relaxed. Smiled even, because his first thought had been that Jim wouldn't need the white noise generators here - if he were here.

And it wasn't as if life didn't happen at 212 Mission Lane, it did. But the building that he now called home, once a single family dwelling, if you can call a mansion a single family dwelling, had been cleverly remodeled to encompass several tenants without losing its air of privacy, solitude or tranquility.

The Anjasmayo had been built along the lines of a Spanish hacienda with the traditional courtyard in the center and the building surrounding it. The original owners, Kenneth and Gwendolyn Porter, had built it in the twenties, having secured their fortune in the mines of Canada. Unfortunately, the fortune had evaporated in the forties and with Kenneth Porter's death, Gwendolyn Porter had put her considerable talents to work and had their home cleverly remodeled as an apartment building. The Anjasmayo was in fact, one of the most brilliantly designed apartment buildings in Cascade.

As the building stood now, there were twelve apartments, six downstairs, six upstairs and only two shared a common wall with a neighbor. In addition, the layout was such that no apartment dweller had anyone directly overhead, or underfoot.

The only noise that could really be heard was the occasional closing of a door, low voices or unhurried footsteps always muted by the ingenious design.

Today the building was still owned by a Porter - Karen Porter, Kenneth and Gwendolyn's daughter-in-law. She'd inherited the building after the death of her husband, Kenneth Porter Jr, in 1996.

Blair had found the building by sheer luck, while temporarily partnered with Connor, Jim being stuck in court. The two of them had headed out to collect a statement from a witness who lived in the old Park District and as they'd exited the witness' home, Blair had noted the studio apartment available sign on the building opposite.

Leaving Connor in the car, he'd jogged across the quiet, tree lined street and entered the lobby through the large, double doors.

Once inside, he'd found the typical lobby - almost. To the right, the required mailboxes with com buttons, but to the left, a painting of the home as it had stood in the twenties. Ahead of him, a wrought iron gate and beyond that, a tantalizing peek at the beauty that lay beyond.

On the gate hung a small placard informing anyone who was interested in renting that all they had to do was buzz #1 between the hours of 10am and 4pm.

As the placard advised, Blair had buzzed, his heart sinking at the thought of what an apartment in such a building must cost. Less than two minutes after buzzing, a woman entered, hand outstretched.

Karen Porter was sixty, small, petite, with blonde bouncy curls only just beginning to go silver. She'd introduced herself as both landlord and owner and then had given him the bad news; the studio had been rented only the day before. As Blair's face had fallen, she'd given him the good news by apologizing for not changing the sign out front, but as it happened, the two bedroom that had been rented a week earlier was now available, the rental agreement having fallen through and would he like to see it?

Blair had been about to say no, that he hardly needed, nor could afford, a two bedroom apartment when Karen had opened the gate and guided him into the courtyard.

Blair had felt as if he'd just landed in Oz. The Oz belonging to Frank L. Baum as opposed to the Oz belonging to HBO. Before he'd been able to shake his head, his elbow had been taken and he was led out into the courtyard.

His breath had actually caught in his throat at the quiet and serene beauty of the garden and he'd listened in wonder as Karen pointed out the different trees and shrubs, pointed with pride to the pond and rock waterfall that had been designed by her husband's mother and built by his father, all the while leading to a corner apartment.

The apartment was being repainted she'd pointed out, but there were several covered pieces of furniture, including a king size bed, left behind by the previous tenant, who'd been suddenly transferred to Michigan and Karen had explained that if Blair wanted them, they were his.

He'd followed her like a puppy, eyes widening at each bedroom, the dining room and kitchen, at the gracious design, the beamed ceilings, the ornate and hand carved moldings, the antique fixtures and the hardwood floor. The living room had one large window that looked out over the courtyard and the bedrooms had large windows overlooking the park that butted up against the apartment property.

As she'd shown him back into the living room all hope died. There was no way he could afford it, just no way. But god, how he wanted it. It seemed if one had to give up the only real home they'd ever had, then they should find a place that could conceivably become a home. And he had.

Karen had correctly read his disappointment and had tactfully asked about his price range. He'd explained student loans, about being a new detective, told her that one thousand was his limit and then had watched in surprise as she'd symbolically handed him the keys.

Of course now he knew what a bargain he'd really found and what a treasure Karen Porter was. He knew that she could have received twice what he was paying, but for her, the tenant was more important than the dollar figure and she'd liked him instantly.

So here he was.

He took off his jacket, dropped it over the back of the couch, pulled off his holster and gun and immediately folded the strap over the firearm. He walked to the closet in the hall and put the gun the top shelf out of harm's way. He strolled back into the living room and with the same surprise he'd shown every night for the last six weeks, he surveyed his home.

The living room was still sparsely furnished but thanks to his artifacts and artwork gracing the walls, anyone coming in would be fooled. A wheat colored, L-shaped couch took center stage, facing the stone fireplace which was flanked on each side by already filled to the brim built-in bookshelves. A square coffee table in knotty pine sat in front of the couch and to the left, a comfortable, oversized cream-colored reading chair with ottoman and behind that, a floor lamp. A large, colorful area rug completed the picture.

To get to the kitchen, Blair had to walk through the dining room, which was still without a table, unless the card table given him by Megan counted.

Pushing through the swinging door, he entered his kitchen, the layout not unlike Jim's. Sinks and cupboards flanked the far wall, then an island that housed the stove/oven combination. To the right, the refrigerator.

He did have two items the loft kitchen had lacked, namely a dishwasher named General Electric as opposed to one called Blair Sandburg and a trash compactor. But what stopped him now, and always did, was the nook.

He, Blair Sandburg, owner of nothing, suddenly had a breakfast nook, a fact that never ceased to amaze him, never failed to bring a whacky, disbelieving grin to his face.

Like now.

The nook was actually a u-shaped, pale green vinyl covered attached bench seat with a small table. Behind it were built-in niches for storing decorative items, he supposed, or maybe cook books. He wondered how his fertility gods would look behind the nook? His grin widened. Or maybe his death masks? Oh, yeah, he had to have them there - real conversation starter especially when he hosted the next poker night.

Chuckling to himself, Blair crossed around the island to the fridge and took out a water. Uncapping it, he took a swig and tried to decide what to fix for dinner. Leaning against the sink, surveying his domain, his smile faded.

A home was not a place, not for him anyway. So what then, was this? His residence? His domicile? Or just a place where he slept? No, this apartment had already become more than any home he'd ever had with the exception of 852 Prospect. So why wasn't it the home?

But of course, he knew. Jim Ellison was his home.

He supposed he ought to sit down, since he was obviously going to discuss Jim Ellison with himself. He moved to his nook and slid in, his fingers playing with the plastic Canadian Geyser water bottle.

So. Here he was. Him, his water and his nook.

So. No Jim Ellison. Still friends. Still partners. But finally, no longer roommates. Too many strange looks. Too many whispers. The decision finally easy. Needed to move on, both of them. And of course, a man can't continue to live with the man he's in love with, when that kind of love isn't returned. Nope, no way. Masochist he was not. At least, not anymore.

And it wasn't as if he didn't still see Jim, just not 24/7 - damn it.

His fingers drummed the table and he wondered if he'd see Jake tonight. Maybe he should go over there? Nah, he was probably in the middle of dinner. Which was exactly what he should be doing - dinner. Hell, maybe just some popcorn and settle in front of his second hand television? Yeah, that was about right.

He slid out and was just reaching for the box when he heard a knock on his front door. He closed the cupboard and wondered who might be visiting, because it wouldn't be Jim, since the man had made it his mission in life to find excuses not to visit.

"Hey, Jake my man!" He pushed open the screen and Jake walked in as if he owned the place, a huge grin plastered on his face, sparkling blue eyes fastened on Blair.

Sandburg held out his hand and Jake high-fived him, then both ran their fingers over the flat palms. "So what'll be tonight? Your choice. You want the hard stuff, or something - milder?"

"hard stuff."

"You got it. Why don't you....," he never finished his thought, Jake was already tearing off his jacket and dropping it over Blair's.

"Right. Make yourself at home and I'll get our drinks."

He went back to the kitchen, pulled two bottles from the fridge, took two glasses down and poured, then carried them back to the living room.

As he walked in, Jake was standing by the large African shield that hung on the southern wall, his eyes wide with wonder. He'd visited several times in the last several weeks and the beautifully crafted shield never failed to draw his attention. When he heard Blair, he turned and smiled again, somewhat shyly. Blair held out the drink and said, "So what will it be tonight?"

"monopoly."

"Aw, come on, Jake. You kill me in Monopoly. Jeesh, I'm broke within an hour. Last time, you had hotels on every major piece of real estate and I had bought exactly two. Give me a break."

Jake shook his head, bright blue eyes laughing merrily at his host. He repeated his choice again.

"monopoly."

"Right, Monopoly. Okay, I'll set these on the table while you get the game. You know where it is."

Jake walked over the fireplace and squatted down in the corner. Three boxes were piled one on top of the other next to the basket of wood. He picked up the top box and took it carefully to the coffee table. Blair made room for the game while Jake opened the box. He held up two game pieces and Blair considered both, then chose the roadster.

"You know you don't have a chance this time. I'm gonna slay you."

His only response - giggles.

Small hands handed the pile of money to Blair as Jake unfolded the game board and set it up, careful not to knock over his glass of apple cider.

The Community Chest cards were stacked precisely and centered in their square, followed by the Chance cards. The Title Deeds were separated and placed in small, neat, ready to purchase stacks. As Jake worked, Blair counted out the $1500 for each of them, then arranged the money for banking purposes. He was always the banker.

Jake might be the only four year old to actually play Monopoly, but Blair still needed to be the banker. And the fact that he was playing Monopoly with a four year old, never fazed him. He'd started playing the game himself at the same age.

"So, how was the playground today? Was Cherry there?"

"no, she's sick, can't swallow."

"Uh, oh." Blair reached out and placed a hand against Jake's forehead.

"i'm okay. me, i'm fine, it's cherry who can't swallow."

"But you've been playing with her, right?"

"yep, she's almost my very bestest friend."

Blair handed Jake his money as he asked, "Almost?"

"you're my bestest."

The curly, blond head was bent in concentration as Jake arranged his money in stacks tucked under the board, so he didn't see the hand that was picking up the dice, freeze.

"What about your Grandma?"

Head still bent, Jake answered, "gammy's a - gammy."

Blair nodded sagely as he picked up the dice.

"Ah, yes. She's a gammy, not just a friend."

"yup."

Jake looked up and grinned at his bestest friend, then with a challenge in his voice, taunted, "bet i beat you in the first roll."

One eyebrow rose dangerously. "Oh, yeah? Well, we'll see, Tonto, we'll see." He blew on the single die, then rolled a five. He threw a smug look at the challenger who promptly picked up the die and rolled - a six. Clapping wildly, bouncing off the pillow Blair had stuck under him, he chortled, "ha, ha," in a sing-song voice. "i beat you again."

Blair just gave a resigned shake of his head. He was going to get creamed - again.

"how much do you owe me?"

"Well, let me put it this way, with the interest you'll get, you don't need to worry about college, okay?"

"hee, hee."

Blair's head shot up. "Did you just say hee-hee?"

"yup."

"You stinker."

"yup."

A small hand moved slowly toward the popcorn that sat in a large plastic bowl next to Blair's arm. Blair waited, pretending to be putting the money away and just as the fingers were about to dip in, he put the money down and picked up the bowl. He stood and started for the kitchen.

"blair?"

"Um?"

"popcorn."

Blair turned, an open and innocent expression on his face. "Popcorn?"

With an exaggerated look of patience, the curly head nodded toward the bowl. Blair glanced down, then back up. "Oh, you wanted some more?" He asked with complete surprise, his eyebrows rising in fake sincerity.

"yup."

Blair looked down at the popcorn, then at the now suspicious face, then back at the popcorn.

"Well," he mused, "It's gonna cost ya."

"um - seven thousand, six hundred?"

"Got it in one, bud."

"you can keep the popcorn, a man's gotta think 'bout his future."

"I really hate precocious kids."

"good thing i'm not - perko, perko...."

"koshus. Precocious."

"yeah, that."

Blair took the bowl back to the couch, set it down and lifted the boy into his arms. He ruffled the short, silky curls and smiling into the laughing face, said, "Yeah, good thing you're not precocious, kid."

Carrying Jake to the couch, he dropped down, letting the body settle comfortably on his lap. Jake's arms were resting on his shoulders as he fixed his gaze on Blair's native necklace. Jake reached out and fingered the carved cat.

"tell me again, please?"

"And how many times would it be, if I told you again?"

"oh - a gazillion-bazillion." He took his eyes from the cat long enough to say it again.

"please?"

"A gazillion-bazillion? Okay then, here goes a gazillion-bazillion and one."

He shifted himself into the corner of the couch, slumped down a bit, allowing Jake's body to slide into the cradle he'd created with his arm and he began.

"Long ago, in a land of jungle enchantment, there lived a great cat. He was long, sleek and black. But unlike any other cat, this one had - "

"blue eyes, he had blue eyes."

"Yes, blue eyes. Pale as to be almost not there. Now this cat was not like any other cat in the enchanted jungle, and considering that the jungle was enchanted, that was saying something."

"how enchanted was he?" Jake asked around a large yawn.

"Well, he could see farther than any living creature. He could hear a thousand miles away, could smell danger even outside the enchanted jungle and - "

"i bet food tasted reaaal good, uh?"

"Oh, yeah. But not too spicy, you know?"

"oh i know. not too spicy. mild, like gammy's mild sauza."

"Precisely. Of course our enchanted cat could also feel a fly if it landed on his backside. I mean, if the fly itched, our cat would scratch, you know?" At the sleepy nod, Blair went on, his voice dropping lower.

"So, this cat had everything."

"but someone to love him."

"But someone to love him. He was brave, the bravest cat in the jungle, the bravest cat in the world and he protected his enchanted jungle, protected it from hunters who dared to enter, protected it from the predators who strayed across its borders, even protected it from the weather! But he was so lonely."

"because it's lonely 'tecting everybody."

"Yep, because it's a lonely job. And in spite of all he did for his jungle, the other inhabitants were a little afraid of him, I mean, he was very special and very fierce."

"but he wasn't, was he? he was a pussy cat."

Blair chuckled at that and nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's our cat, our big, brave cat - a big old pussy cat."

"did he find someone to love him?"

"Well, what do you think?"

"he found the wolf. the lonely wolf."

"Yes, Jake, he found the wolf. The very lonely wolf. But they were so different...," he glanced down into the innocent face, at the blue eyes drifting closed in spite of his valiant attempts to stay awake and he dropped a quick kiss on the end of Jake's nose.

Jake was asleep. Time to take him home. Blair rose easily, the weight in his arms no problem. Picking up the small blue jacket, he headed out.

He crossed the courtyard to number one and before he could knock, Karen Porter had the door open and was stepping aside, a large, welcoming smile on her face.

In a soft, low voice, she said, "I was going to call you first, but I made the mistake of turning my back on the scamp. He was out the door and running across the garden before I could blink."

"You know it's okay, Karen. My favorite visitor, besides yourself."

She started to take the sleeping child, but Blair waved her off and kept walking, turning left and moving easily down the hall to Jake's room. He carefully deposited him on his bed and with Karen's help, they had him undressed and in his pajamas in a few seconds. Jake never stirred.

Brushing the curls from Jake's forehead, Blair pulled up the blanket and tucked it under the boy's chin. Then dropping a quick kiss on the soft cheek, he turned to see Karen staring at him with a gentle smile on her face.

"You're good with him," she whispered. "And you're good for him."

"Then we're even. He's good for me."

(0(0(0)

"It's wonderful seeing him open up like this, Blair. I've had him with me for over nine months now and this is the first time he's been so outgoing and accepting of anyone new."

Sandburg gazed down at the petite woman, seeing the difficulties of the last months reflected in the dark blue eyes staring up at him.

"It's been hard, hasn't it?"

Her eyes clouded over as she remembered. "I never knew, never knew that I was a grandmother until that call." She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of Jake's room and smiled tenderly. "I would never, in a million years, have thought that I'd be taking care of a grandson I hadn't known existed, but he's been a godsend, Blair. A blessing."

"Have you heard from Diane?"

Karen shook her head sadly. "No. But I do know that she's still in Boston. I heard from an old friend who saw her at the Employment Development Offices. According to Helen, Diane looked - well, it was obvious that she'd made no effort to clean herself up. I'm just grateful she finally realized that Jake needed stability and called me. I can only imagine the horrors of his first years."

"She must love him, Karen. And he's smart and happy now, she had to have done something right."

"She loved him enough to give him up. And I pray everyday that she'll get herself cleaned up and want to come home, to raise her son. I want my daughter back."

He gave her a gentle, awkward smile, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

Back home, Blair sunk into his couch, shuttered blue eyes fixed on the game still out on his table. He reached over and scooped out a handful of popcorn, tossed one up into the air, tilted his head back and caught it neatly in his open mouth.

Alone again - naturally.

"So you still coming tonight, Chief?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you keep extolling the virtues of your little courtyard, I just figured getting you to leave your haven would be just to damn hard. And speaking of haven," Jim paused and glanced at Blair out of the corner of his eye, "I was thinking of - maybe - stopping by this weekend and checking out this paradise of yours."

"Okay, that was a mouthful for you, Ellison."

"So, what do you say?"

"Hey, if you don't mind that there's still no dining room table, of course, it could be the year 2003, before I do purchase one...," his voice trailed off, giving Jim an opportunity to back down.

Jim glanced at his partner as the truck slowed to a stop at the intersection of Western and Fifth. "No dining room table, Chief? What, Connor's card table just not cutting it?"

"Actually, it's a great catch-all, which I suppose is the ultimate use of a table, in a normal home, that is."

"I believe I've just been insulted. And I remember the kitchen table serving nicely as a Sandburg catch-all. Catch all his books, all his papers, his jacket, his bowl of Rice Krispies, his two mugs of tea, always a decorative item, what with those cute little fuzzy green things floating on top."

"Aw, you're just jealous. You miss my floating green fuzzies."

Jim placed a hand over his heart and closed his eyes. "You nailed it, Sandburg. You always did have the best doggone moldy green fuzzies in the world."

Blair snorted. "Jealous beyond belief."

The signal went green and Jim proceeded through the intersection, then made the left onto Via Cordalia. "What's the address again?" Blair pointed to the green and white stucco on the north corner. "That's it. 3707."

Jim pulled in and shut down. "Well, I'm not looking forward to this one."

"No. Would be nice if there were some official department that handled this, before we got here."

They climbed out and after checking traffic, ran across the street. Walking up the flagstone path, Jim took out a coin. "Toss for it?" He flipped the coin, but Blair caught it mid-air. "I'll do it, Jim."

Ellison noticed that Blair pocketed the quarter. "Every little bit helps with that rent, eh?"

Blair chuckled and patted the pocket. "Hey, just getting back a bit of my own. How many of my quarters did you pocket?"

"Enough to make at least one payment on the truck."

They were at the door and Jim knocked. A moment later a woman in her fifties answered, her expression changing from one of almost eagerness to dread the moment she saw their faces.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about this Roberto Marin, Mrs. Collins?"

Dabbing her eyes with the tissue, she shook her head. "No, no, that's it. She wrote such - glowing letters about him and when she came home, I wanted to meet him, you see? But somehow, it kept getting postponed and I got, well, I was hurt, you know? Why wouldn't she bring him over? Let me meet him? Why? And then she didn't show for our Saturday dinner and she wasn't at home, I went over to her new place, but she wasn't there and the cat hadn't been fed....," her head jerked up and she stared at Sandburg, "the cat, what about the cat? Who will take care of it?"

"Mrs. Collins, a neighbor took the cat. If you'd like, we can take care of that for you."

"I would, I would like Screamy Mimi, I would. Crazy name for a cat, isn't it? But she loved her, loved that cat. Yes, I want her."

"Can we call Mr. Collins for you?"

"No, no, he's at work, don't want to bother him."

They stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the cool, brisk autumn air.

"You think it was this Marin guy?"

"Looks like, Chief, why?"

"I don't know." He looked up at his friend and partner, eyes squinting in the bright sun. "Jim, she didn't want to call her husband. Her daughter is dead, but she didn't want to bother her husband at work."

"And the address is?"

With a smug smile, Sandburg said, "The Imperium Building - he's on the seventeenth floor."

"Right, well, let's go."

They took the express elevator up to seventeen, checked the directory, found Collins Sales and headed for suite 1709. A perky blonde receptionist greeted them, her perkiness waning as Jim flashed his ID.

"We'd like a few minutes with Mr. Horace Collins regarding his daughter."

The woman stood, nodded nervously, then opened the door behind her.

"Sir, the police want to see you."

The sound of a chair being tipped over and landing on the ground was Jim's second clue, the muttered fuck was the first. He pushed past the woman, Sandburg right behind him.

Guns drawn, they burst into the office just in time to see Collins disappearing behind another door. Hot on his heels, both men had the door open and were leaping after him.

For all his age and paunch, Horace Collins gave them a good run for their money.

Desperation will do that to a man.

He managed to get to the stairwell and then the chase got interesting. Yelling down at the man, commanding him to halt, identifying themselves again as police officers was not conducive to keeping Jim happy. The echo reverberated through his skull, sending spikes of pain to bombard the back of his eyes. He paused just enough to allow Blair to surge ahead of him, tossing directions to, "Dial it down, for crying out loud!"

Sandburg could just see Collins ahead of him and in a surprising move, Blair vaulted over the stairwell rail to land rather unceremoniously on the fleeing man.

Jim quickly took the last steps down, the pain receding and came to an abrupt halt. Grinning, he holstered his gun.

"Nice tackle, Chief. You okay?"

Sandburg rolled over, shaking his head like a dog just coming out of water. He pulled his cuffs, turned an uninjured Collins over on his stomach and then flipped Ellison the bird while at the same time, cuffing their suspect and reading the man his rights.

He pulled Collins to his feet and ignoring Jim, asked, "Do you always run, Mr. Collins, when the police arrive on your doorstep? Or only after killing your step-daughter?"

"You're gonna have quite a shiner, Sandburg."

Jim reached out and lightly touched Blair's cheek, just below his right eye. "You okay?"

Blair nodded and asked, "You think anyone will believe an elbow in the eye?"

"Nah, might as well tell everyone what they want to hear, that it was an angry husband."

"Ha, ha."

They were walking down the hall having just finished their interrogation of Horace Collins. The man had finally confessed and Jim's question regarding Blair's eye was rooted in his concern for his partner, thanks to all all that they'd heard in the interrogation room.

Horace Collins had been abusing his step-daughter from the time of his marriage to Miriam Hotchkiss. Carla Hotchkiss had been ten years old. The abuse continued until Carla went away to college. Evidently being away from home had opened some doors for Carla and after meeting a young man, Roberto Marin, and realizing that what had been happening to her was not normal, she'd come home with every intention of telling her mother.

Apparently making the decision and following through were not as easy as Carla had thought. After many talks with her boyfriend, Roberto, after many aborted attempts to meet with her mother, Carla had finally decided to go directly to Horace. That had been her error. Fatal, as it turned out.

In a panic at the thought that the world would know what he'd done, he'd killed her and left her body in a dark alley.

He'd then sat back and watched as his wife panicked, as she called the police, as they searched fruitlessly for her daughter, and as the finger of suspicion landed on the boyfriend.

He'd thought he'd gotten away with it until his secretary had announced the police.

Jim had watched his partner's face as Collins had dispassionately revealed the history of abuse and the decision to kill, then he'd watched Blair with Mrs. Collins, observed as he'd told her the truth, as he'd comforted her and as he'd turned her over to a slim, dark young man with haunted eyes. Roberto Marin.

"You sure you're okay, Chief?"

"Jim, chill out. I'm fine and yes, I know exactly what you're really asking."

"Need me to bring anything, Jim?"

"Nope, got it all. Unless you have an urge to bring some of that chili con queso of yours."

"Isn't it a damn good thing I anticipated that request?"

They were standing in the elevator, headed down to the parking garage, their day finally over, the weekend looming bright - and the Friday night poker game, hosted tonight by Jim.

"You realize that this is the first game that you, I mean, that we're..."

"The first game where I'm one of your guests?"

"Yeah, that."

"Jim, it was the right thing to do. And it did help. The looks have stopped, the whispering, all of it."

"It wasn't a good enough reason, Sandburg."

The elevator opened and both men stepped out, Blair first. As the doors shut behind them, Sandburg faced his friend. "Wait," he placed on hand on Jim's chest, "wait, you sound as if..."

"As if I'm sorry you moved out?"

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, Blair said, "Yes."

"Well, I am. I miss you, god damn it. Okay? Satisfied now?"

"As a matter of fact - yes."

Walking past the younger man, Jim added wickedly, "I miss you the same way Felix Unger would miss Oscar Madison."

"What a fucking coincidence, I miss you the same way Oscar Madison would miss Felix Unger."

Jim opened the door to #307 and stepped inside. He hung up his jacket, leaving his keys in the pocket. Since Sandburg had moved out, he'd rarely used the key basket. He'd also misplaced his keys several times. Talk about ironic. But he was stubborn and not using the basket was kind of like going on strike. His own protest.

He walked into the kitchen and pulled a beer from the fridge, popped the top and downed it in two swigs. Deliberately ignoring the recycle bin, he tossed the bottle into the trash, then walked upstairs to change.

As he sat on the edge of the bed, he listened.

To the fucking silence. A silence he hated with his whole being. The Sandburg silence.

Definition: Absence of Sandburg talking.

Absence of Sandburg moving, changing, complaining, explaining, sharing, sleeping, working, cooking, living - breathing.

Okay, Jim had to admit it. He wanted Sandburg back. He wanted his roommate. He wanted - Sandburg. And could someone explain how Sandburg could die and Jim not know then that he loved the guy?

How he could watch Blair give up his life, watch him lable himself a fraud on television and still not know, but one day after the man moves out, one day without him, then Jim knows?

Seven kinds of a fool was James Joseph Ellison. Yep, at least that many.

He'd been debating telling Sandburg for the last couple of weeks, but each time the words threatened to successfully spill from his lips, he'd chickened out. And why was that anyway?

The worst that could happen was - the worst that could happen.

What, Sandburg would move out? Jim barked out a dry laugh at his wit. Yeah, right.

The worst that could happen was that Sandburg would - love him back.

Blair climbed wearily from the Volvo and headed into the courtyard. As he walked under the archway a small body thudded into him, short arms trying to wrap around him.

"Hey, Jake, long time, no see."

The young man in question giggled into Blair's coat, then raised a shining, smiling face. "saw you this morning."

"Long time ago, this morning." He turned the boy around and with his hand on Jake's head, guided him toward his apartment. As they turned left, he glanced back and spotted Karen standing in the doorway of her place, shrugging helplessly and grinning. Returning the smile, he waved.

As they walked in, he asked, "So, how was your day?"

"good, but better now. did you catch a bad guy today?"

"Tons, Jake, tons."

Jake glanced up at Blair, his face suddenly worried. He pointed up at Blair's face and asked, "did a bad guy do that?"

Self-consciously, Blair touched his still tender cheekbone, then shrugged and gave Jake his best grin. "Nah, just a stupid cupboard."

Jake grinned back at him then, relief evident. He gave Blair's jeans a little tug and as Blair stooped down, Jake whispered, "don't worry, it won't hurt long," then he nodded knowingly and added, "i know."

Blair frowned at Jake's confidence, his mind trying to supply the circumstances that would surround Jake's receiving a black eye. He gave a little shudder, then in an effort to normalize the moment, he shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it over the back of the couch.

Jake mimcked every move of Blair's including throwing his own jacket over Blair's.

After storing his gun, he said, "Poker night with the guys, tonight, Jake. How about you take care of some escaped chocolate chip cookies for me, while I put something together for the guys?"

"they exscaped?"

"Yep, rogue chips, you know."

"my duty then."

Blair laughed and taking Jake's hand, they walked into the kitchen.

Vinyl bench seats weren't made for four year olds, so Blair took the telephone book and set it down. Jake immediately perched on top, which allowed him to reach his cookies and milk.

As Jake carefully dunked and chomped, Blair put his dip together. The silence was companionable but short-lived. As soon as Jake finished the cookies, he started asking questions. Never ending questions about Blair, and tribes, and countries and - Jim. But the questions were never onesided as Blair countered with questions about Jake's day, about Cherry, who was happily all better and about Halloween and did Jake know yet what his costume would be.

Jake had just hopped down from his seat on the Cascade phone book when Blair asked the costume question and as he put his glass on the sink, with a little bit of help from Blair, he seemed, for the first time, to be a little disconcerted.

"costume?" he asked.

"Yeah, costume, for trick-or-treating."

At the silence, Blair stopped wrapping up the dip and knelt down in front of his young guest.

"You have been trick-or-treating, haven't you?"

Blond curls shook.

"Okay, this is going to be hard...um, you see, well, you know what Halloween is, right?"

Jake nodded solemnly. "you told me. all hallows eve."

"Right, among other things." Blair scratched the back of his head as he puzzled how to explain the phenomenon of dressing up, knocking on someone's door and getting free candy to a child for whom the concept was totally foreign.

Swinging Jake up into his arms, he walked out into the living room and took his usual place in the corner of the couch.

"Okay, it all started like this..."

Ten minutes later, Jake was nodding his head excitedly. "so, they went around pretending to be fairies and got goodies?"

"That sums it up, welp."

"and now we get to dress up and get candy?"

"Yep."

"i like this."

Ruffling the blond hair, Blair chuckled. "Jake, I gotta tell ya, I loved it when I was a kid."

"so what should i be?"

"Well, we need to ask your grandma first and if she says yes, what do you want to be?"

"a wizard. i want to be a wizard. with a magikal staff."

"Well, what say I ask Karen and if it's a go, we'll work on a wizard costume, okay?"

Jake bounced on Blair's leg, his face aglow.

"she'll say yes, she'll say yes."

At that moment, the phone rang and Blair reached over to answer.

"Hello?"

<<Blair? Karen. I have an emergency, it's - it's Diane. I have to leave, to go to Boston>>

"Is there anything I can do?"

<<Oh, Blair, I hate to ask this, but Maggie's gone for the weekend, won't be back until Sunday night, she can't take Jake until then...>>

"Say nothing else, Karen. And how do you feel about exposing Jake to the time honored tradition of cops celebrating the weekend with poker night?"

(0(0(0)

"Okay, you've got the Aero bed and frame, his blankets and stuff, I've packed the small suitcase and judging by the box of toys, well, suffice it to say, Jake won't be looking for something to do. You have Dr. Peterson's number and Maggie's so you can cal...."

"Karen? Stop worrying. Go, take care of Diane. Jake will be fine. He'll stay with me until you get back and I'll arrange everything with Maggie on Sunday night, okay?"

Karen looked up from her lengthy list and gave Blair a look of weary humor. "I know, I know. Jake'll be as happy as a clam." She couldn't help the quick glance down at her list. "Oh, God, I nearly forgot, the number where you can reach me in Boston, you'll need that...."

"Got it, Karen. And I think your taxi is here."

Blair slipped the strap of her garment bag over his shoulder, and with one hand on the door and the other on Karen's back, he ushered her outside. As they stepped into the courtyard, Jake jumped up and threw himself into his grandmother's arms. She lifted him and holding him hard, walked through the lobby and out onto the front sidewalk.

The cabbie came forward and took her bag and as he was putting it in the trunk, she kissed Jake's nose, saying, "You be good, you hear me? And I'll call everyday until I get home."

"promus?"

"I promise, sugar."

Jake's arms wound around her neck as he planted a big, loud wet one on her cheek. She kissed him back, then held his face to her cheek, eyes closed, hand cupping the back of his head. "miss you, jake, miss you already."

She turned and by mutual consent, Jake's body leaned away and into Blair's. His arms reached out and Blair took him, fully aware of Jake's need to be held right now.

Giving each of them a big grin, Karen climbed into the back of the cab and immediately rolled the window down. "See you both in a few days and don't let Jake rake in all the dough tonight or you'll never be invited to the game again."

The cab pulled away from the curb, Karen's waving hand visible until the vehicle disappeared around the corner.

Blair gave his new charge a little tickle and quipped, "Well, I guess it's just you and me, partner."

The small head resting on Blair's shoulder gave a slight nod but his attention was still grounded to the far corner, to the cab that was no longer visible.

"You know," Blair mused, "I wonder if this is wise? Letting the guys meet you and all. Um?"

"why not?"

"Well, you're a pretty awesome dude and they might just dump me flat."

Jake snorted, then asked, "will jim be there?"

"Well aren't you the lucky one. The weekly Major Crime poker game is at Jim's. You get to see where I lived before I came here."

The head lifted, eyes aglow, "i do?"

"You do."

"kewl."

One eyebrow rose. "Kewl?"

"cherry said that today. she said everybody says it."

Blair lifted his hand, giving the high-five sign and Jake responded. As their palms slapped together, Blair said, "KEWL."

Okay, this was - new. Carrying the dip and storing it securely inside the Volvo was not new, but balancing a clingy four year old on his hip? A four year old that had turned octopus and refused to let go or be more than two inches away from him since his grandmother had driven off two hours ago?

Definitely new. Not - disturbing or uncomfortable - just - new.

He hiked Jake up a bit, walked around to the passenger side and as he opened the door he suddenly felt stupid. Car seat. He didn't have a car seat. Jake was - what, four? And what did the law say? Four and forty?

Shit. He knew Jake was over four, but damn, what did he weigh? He straightened and looked his new roommate straight in the eyes.

"Hoss, we gotta talk." Leaning back a bit, so as not to go cross-eyed, he continued. "You gotta give it to me straight here, welp. Do you or do you not use a car seat in when you ride in the car?"

Jake giggled. Then laughed, throwing his head back, the laughter bubbling out of him. Blair tapped his foot impatiently, the corners of his mouth turning upward ever so slightly.

"Ja-ke," he said with warning in his tone. "Do you or don't you?"

"do."

"Swell. Just swell. You couldn't be five years old? What, now I gotta fatten you up? In the next few minutes? I'm a cop, gotta follow the rules..."

"car seat in the car, silly."

Blair was stumped. He frowned. Car seat was in the car...

"Shit, of course. Karen's car." He fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out the set of keys she'd left for him. Then walking over to the blue Le Mans, he unlocked the door. And stared.

Car seat. Installed. And - like - stuck.

And he had to unstuck it. Swell. Just swell.

He'd heard vicious rumors about these things, about how only nuclear physicists could secure a car seat and even then, it had to be a physicist with an IQ of over 300...

Well, he may not be a physicist, but damn, he could do this. He set Jake down, took a deep breath and started in. After all, hadn't he successfully learned how to set the clock on the VCR at the tender age of 28?

Twenty minutes later and sweating bullets, he finally had the damn thing out of Karen's car.

He was going to be late - Jim's first poker night sans roommate and the ex was going to be late.

Fortunately, he was a quick study and while it had taken him twenty minutes to get it out, it only took him - nineteen - to get it in.

He'd ignored Jake's giggles throughout the procedure and now stood viewing his handiwork. Yeah, looking good. Jake was secured and currently giving him the thumbs up sign. He returned it and wiping his sweaty brow, walked around and climbed in.

"Well, guess we're on our way, eh, Jake?"

Jake bounced in his seat, his excitement at the evening's events fueling his energy. Blair had wisely not fed Jake yet, letting a few graham crackers tide him over. He knew there would enough food to satisfy him tonight, some even healthy. But - entertainment? He'd stuffed some of Jake's favorite books into the bag with the chili con queso, also a couple of small boxes of robotics and what the heck did a four year old watch on television on Friday nights?

When in doubt - go to the source.

"Uh, Hoss? Since poker is the name of the game tonight, is there anything in particular you'd like to watch on television until bed time?"

"disney channel."

Uh, oh. Disney Channel. He wracked his brains, trying to remember if Jim's cable set-up included Disney...

"Well, that sounds good. Here's hoping Jim has the Disney Channel."

"everyone has the disney channel, gotta have it, it's a ruuuule."

Blair took his eyes from the road long enough to give Jake his best doubtful look and Jake nodded his head enthusiastically. "really, a big ruuuule," his hands stretched out wide, " a really, really big ruuuule."

"Uh, welp, does this rule apply to confirmed bachelors?"

"bachtlers?"

"Yeah, bachelors, as in Jim Ellison, as in unmarried men."

"you have the disney channel." It was said with absoluteness. Blair had the Disney Channel, therefore...

"Yes, well, I didn't know I had it until a certain young man started visiting me."

"so he doesn't know. but it is a ruuuule."

"Could you tell me why that makes perfect sense coming from you?"

"because i'm jake the wizard."

"Ah. Speaking of which, we have to work on your costume this weekend. Tuesday is Halloween."

The bounce became more pronounced as Jake clapped his hands. "yes, yes, yes. and i need a staff, a big, wooden staff, don't i?"

"Um, staff or wand?"

"oh."

"Harry Potter has a wand, but Merlin has a staff. Your choice."

"i am greater so i must have both." He punctuated that statement with a very firm nod of his head.

"Yes, I see. Definitely greater, definitely both."

He turned on Willits and was struck by an idea.

"Jake, how about practising your Treak-or-Treat routine tonight? On Jim?"

"can i? can i please? will he have candy?"

"With me gone? Oh, I can almost guarantee it, Hoss. Specifically - Godiva." The signal went red and Blair leaned over conspiratorially.

"Okay, this is how it's gonna go down, my man...."

He knew he was puttering, the damn place had been ready for the gang for hours, but damn it, he was nervous. The first visit. Blair's first visit since moving out.

He took the bowl of peanuts and moved them to the edge of the coffee table. He was eyeing the bowl of peppered nuts on the kitchen table when someone knocked on the door. He tried to peg who it might be, but he came up short.

Moving quickly, he pulled open the door and - looked down.

"trick or treat?"

Jim's jaw dropped. Then he scratched his head. Trick or treat? No way. He'd know if it were Halloween, Blair would have....shit. But no, the neighbors, the pumpkins, no Halloween wasn't until - what, Tuesday?

"Uh, son, I'm afraid...," no, he couldn't tell this little waif that Halloween was in four days and where the hell were his parents? And what the hell was wrong with them? He quickly amended his sentence.

"Son, I'm afraid I'm all out of candy. And where..."

"the go-diva. in the box on top of the refrigrator."

"....are your....what did you say?"

"the go-diva, on top of the frigrator."

Jim scratched his head again, then took a big whiff.

Well, well, well. He bent over and scooped the little devil into his arms, then stepped out into the hall.

"Okay, Sandburg, show yourself."

Nothing, if you didn't count the giggles emanating from the wiggle wart in his arms.

"Sandburg, I can smell you and your chili con queso. You're in this hall. Come out now," he winked at Jake, "or I eat the kid."

Blair stepped out from his position around the corner, his hands high in the air. "Oh, no, Jim, not that. Please don't eat the kid. Besides, he's dessert."

Jake's only comment - "blech."

Jim grinned, saying, "What, you don't taste good?"

"nope. go-diva tastes muuuuch better."

"Well, let's go inside and I'm assuming that you brought yon Blair, right?"

Jake nodded happily as Jim turned back. Blair picked up the bag containing the dip and brought up the rear, his laughter following Jim inside.

"So did you drive, or did you let Blair drive?"

"blair drove. i'm too short."

"So's he, kid, so's he."

"I resemble that remark, Jim and no casting aspersions on the bearer of both Jake, the young man in your arms, and chili con queso."

Shifting the young man to his left hip, Jim held up his right hand. "Hello, Jake. I'm Jim and glad to meet you." They shook and Jake said, "i know you're jim. you're blair's partner and you catch most of the bad guys, huh," he affirmed with a nod.

"Well, I do catch my share, never let it be said that Jim Ellison shirks his duty, but Sandburg has been known to catch a few in his day." He then added with a smirk, "Just not today, or anytime in recent history."

Blair set the bag with the dip on the kitchen sink and snorted. "Right Jim. You just keep believing that. Jake, don't you listen to the man. He totters. Ask him, just ask him if he doesn't totter. Why if not for me, Cascade would be a den of criminals, a vertible...."

"corneecope-ia...."

"Plethora...," Jim added, laughing.

"Of evil doers," Blair finished, his own laugh mingling with Jake's and Jim's.

Jim set the youngster down and immediately lowered himself to Jake's height. His fingers found the zipper to the jacket and as he unzipped and helped Jake out of the warm parka, revealing the yellow pajamas underneath, he said, "So tell me, young Jake, how did you meet my friend over there, uh?"

"he lives in my gammy's building. we play monopoly all the time and he always loses. he owes me a qratrillion dollars now."

"Good God, a quatrillion? Just how much is a quatrillion?"

"it's a whole lot."

"Well, take my advice, don't let him wiggle out of giving you that money. With a quatrillion bucks, you could buy a spaceship. At least."

"i know. two spaceships, maybe."

Jim regarded the young man with a keen eye. "Jake, I do believe you're my lucky charm tonight. Something tells me with you around, I'm gonna win a quatrillion dollars tonight."

(0(0(0)

The television droned on in the background and lying on his stomach, on the floor, a few feet from the set, legs waving in the air, Jake watched as Pluto wreaked havoc on Mickey Mouse.

Jim did indeed have the Disney Channel.

In the kitchen, Jim lounged against the fridge and watched as Blair ripped open the bag of tortilla chips and dumped them into a large bowl.

"Okay, Sandburg, spill."

"I don't think so, Ellison, you'll just make me clean up."

"I'm gonna ignore that, Sandburg. Now talk."

"His grandmother is my landlady, Karen Porter. You remember me telling you about her?"

"Got it. So?"

"She had a family emergency and I'm taking care of Jake until Karen returns."

Jim crossed his arms over his chest and in a voice dripping with exaggerated patience, said,

"Chief, give me all of it."

Blair faced his partner and grinned. "Dying of curiousity, are we?"

Jim waggled his fingers at the younger man.

Blair stepped over to the sink and resting his back against the counter, now shoulder to shoulder with Jim, he lowered his voice and said, "Okay, okay. Karen's daugher, Diane, ran away from home five years ago. She was only sixteen. Karen searched for her, hired private detectives, the works. But nothing. Then, last year, she received a phone call from Diane, begging her to come to Boston, that she needed her."

Blair paused and craned his neck, checking that Jake was still engrossed in cartoons. Satisfied, he continued, voice lowered to a level that only Jim could have heard.

"When Karen arrived in Boston, she found her daughter living in a flop house and heavily addicted to just about everything. And in the next room, sound asleep, she discovered Jake."

"Christ, Chief."

"That's how Karen found out she was a grandmother. Diane doesn't know," Blair's voice faltered, before continuing, "who the - father is. She has no idea. Anyway, she begged Karen to take Jake."

"I'm assuming Karen tried to get Diane to return with her as well?"

"Tried hard, failed hard. In fact, when Karen woke up the next morning, Diane was gone. Jake's been with Karen from that moment on. The call Karen received today was from Diane. She's in trouble, so Karen had to go."

"Okay, I get all this, Chief. But why did she leave Jake with you? An entire apartment building, other friends, yet she leaves her grandson with Blair Sandburg?"

Blair moved to the island, resting his palms on the surface as he gazed over at the small boy, a gentle smile playing about his lips. "Jake and I have become - close. He spends most evenings with me from the time I get home. I'm not sure why he latched onto me, but I'm glad."

He faced Jim again, his eyes glowing with pride - fatherly pride. "God, Jim, he's so smart. And damn, he really does beat me at Monopoly. Karen and I can only guess at his first three years, at how bad they must have been. When he first came to live with Karen, he was very quiet and withdrawn, but gradually, over time, well, you saw for yourself."

"Yeah, Chief, I did. He's a charmer. Obviously Karen has done wonders for him. Mind telling me what the Trick-or-Treat thing was all about?"

Blair chuckled and stepped in close to Jim, his arm reaching up and behind the taller man. His fingers closed around the golden box hidden behind the pitcher on top of the fridge. He brought it down and waved it in front of Jim's face.

"Like I wouldn't know that once I was outta here, you'd sneak in some Godiva chocolate?"

Jim tried to snatch the box, but Blair immediately hid it behind his back as he shook a finger in front of Jim's face. "I don't think so, bucko."

Taking a nonchalant stance, Jim asked, "And what does Godiva have to do with tricking and treating? Not to mention that the idea of using an innocent boy to rat out my stash, er, my innocent box of candy."

Blair stepped back just one instant before Jim made his attack and laughing, held the candy as far back as he could. "Well, since I knew you'd have this stash, and since this will be Jake's first Halloween in costume and going trick-or-treating, I figured he could practice on you," he darted out of the kitchen, box raised high as he finished, "and uncover your stash."

As Blair backed into the living room, his eyes on Jim who was stalking the box of chocolates, Jake scrambled up and started jumping up and down and repeating, "trick-or-treat, trick-or-treat."

"Aw, Jake, you're gonna help old Jim, aren't you buddy? Help me rescue the chocolates from Mr. Eat only healthy foods unless it's a hot dog, Sandburg?"

Short curls bobbed as Jake shook his head, suddenly adamant in his refusal to aid Jim.

"uh, uh, can't help, can't help. besides, candy is mine, for halloweeny." He made a leap worthy of Michael Jordan and small fingers grasped the gold box. He landed, clutching his prize. Blair turned on the boy and waving his finger at him, reminded, "It's not Halloween-y yet, my man and what is this? I'm surrounded by chocoholics?"

Jake looked down at the box in his hand, then up at Jim, who winked. Grinning, Jake said, "yep."

"Jake, my friend, compadre, champion Monopoly player, owner of my soul and fortune for at least the next twenty years, what say I hold the box until Halloween. Does that sound fair?" Blair knelt down and gave Jake his best grin.

"til halloween?"

"Yep, til Halloween."

Jake glanced up to Jim. "you wanna go with me? go trick-or-treating with me and blair? i'll share."

Blair made a concerted effort not to snort.

"Jake, that's the finest invitation that I've ever received. You've got yourself a partner, pardner."

With great solemnity, Jake handed the box to Blair, who in turn and with even greater solemnity, handed it up to Jim. He failed completely at hiding his smirk.

"Jake, tell Jim what your costume is going to be."

Puffing out his chest, he answered proudly, "I'm going as a great wizard. i'm so great, i get a staff and a wand."

"A wizard with a staff and r: Ind? I'm impressed, Jake."

"what will you be, jim?"

Blair stood and regarded his partner. "Um, yes, Jim, what will you be?"

Ellison looked at the two, one with eagerness and curiousity written all over his face, the other with a distinct smirk. He rubbed his jaw reflectively. "Well, you know, I think I'll save that as a surprise for Tuesday. Yeah, surprise."

"oh goody, a s'prise."

Blair barely managed to contain himself as he added, "Yeah, Jim. Oh, goody, a surprise."

Jim was about to give Blair the evil eye, but voices from the lobby stopped him. He tilted his head a bit and said, "Company's here." He looked back down at Jake and added," Well, guy, you're about to meet Cascade's finest. You ready?"

"yup."

Simon and Joel arrived first and managed to get inside, coats removed, bags of munchies deposited in the kitchen, and throw out a few well launched insults before they realized something was amiss. Or added.

Joel had just made a crack about Blair's chili con queso dip, praying that no turkey was involved and about to relay to Simon what had happened the last time he'd eaten anything of Blair's with the word chili in it when a giggle floated up from somewhere behind Jim. Joel froze, looked around, then shrugged and continued.

About to regale them with how the exact number of helpings of Blair's turkey chili had coincided with the exact number of trips to the bathroom when another giggle interrupted him. He looked over at Simon, who was frowning, his eyes flicking over the loft, his Captain persona at full mast.

"Okay, what's up, guys?"

"me."

No one moved. Jim and Blair stood shoulder to shoulder, innocence their modus operandi.

Simon repeated his question.

"What's up?"

"me."

Joel chimed in with, "Who's me?"

"me."

Simon took two steps toward Jim and Blair, who consequently took two steps back.

"Ellison? Sandburg? When exactly did one of you become a ventriloquist?"

"Why sir," they both said together. Jim gave Blair a small sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating that he could go first. Blair waved him off, saying, "Oh, no, Jim. Age before beauty, you know. After you."

Jim gave an exaggerated bow, his arm sweeping out with a flourish. "Oh, no, after you, please."

"GENTLEMEN!"

"shouldn't yell."

Simon started to sputter and the comedy team of Ellison and Sandburg decided to take pity.

They stepped aside.

Simon looked out over the living room, then - looked down.

"Shit."

Jake put his hand to his mouth and giggled.

Blair swung Jake up into his arms and walked over to his Captain.

"Simon, I'd like you to meet Jake Porter, aka hoss. Jake, this is our boss, Simon Banks, and standing next to him with the silliest grin I've ever seen, is Joel Taggert. Joel, meet Jake."

Joel, catching on to Simon's frozen state, stepped up to the mound. He held out his hand and taking Jake's, said, "Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Porter. Were you planning on playing in tonight's game?"

Jake shook hands with Joel as he shook his head and said, "no," then he sighed heavily, letting his shoulders droop. "too small, just too small."

Simon, back with the living, rested a large hand on the curly mop of hair, saying, "Kid, if small were the criteria for not being able to play, then Sandburg would be out of luck."

The bright blue eyes sparkled up at Simon as Jake asked excitedly, "so i can play?"

Blair set him back down and with the most angelic expression on his face, answered, "as of now, you're Simon's partner. Isn't he, Simon?"

The stunned expression on Simon's face was more than enough for both Blair and Jake. Blair immediately high-fived Jake, their fingers once again doing their little palm dance, as both cried out, "GOTCHA!"

Simon glanced over at Jim, who was grinning broadly. With great drama, Simon said, "Dear God, now there are two of them."

The loft was quiet.

Seven people sat around the table, each engrossed in their newly dealt hands. Megan was running her fingers over the cards, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the hand.

Joel was shuffling his, back and forth, back and forth...

Henri Brown was covertly watching his fellow players while Rafe just shook his head sadly.

Jim's cards were face down on the table and Blair's were in his left hand while he reached for a handful of nuts with his right. He lobbed several into his mouth as he watched Simon.

Simon was chewing on his unlit cigar as he tilted his head first left, then right. His finger tapped the middle card, but the blond head shook. Jake was comfortably ensconced on Simon's lap and as Simon moved his finger down, Jake watching carefully, one small hand slipped under Simon's arm and fingers wiggled.

Blair dropped three honey coated peanuts into the open palm and the hand was pulled back, the nuts popped into the mouth as Jake nodded at Simon's new choice.

Jim picked up the deck of cards and starting with Megan, asked, "How many Connor?"

"Two."

Jim dealt the two cards, then moved to Henri who asked for three. Blair nonchalantly asked for one and as Rafe threw down his cards in disgust, Simon discarded two cards and Jim dealt him two him new ones.

"And the dealer takes three." He dealt himself the necessary cards and joined the rest of the gang in slipping on his best poker face as he adjusted his hand. Across the table, he couldn't fail to note that a certain short person was bouncing in his seat. He winked at the excited Jake.

The game progressed until there was a very respectful pot and three people left. Simon, Blair and Henri.

Henri picked up two red chips and dropped them down onto the pile. Blair picked up two red chips, then added two more. "I'll see that and raise two."

Small fingers handed Simon four red chips.

"Um, seems I'm meeting that bet." Four more chips were added to the pile.

Everyone looked at Henri, who grinned and laid out two pair - eights and fives.

In a humble voice, Blair said, "Ooh, that's good, H. Of course, I do believe this beats your two pair." He laid out all five cards, revealing a straight flush, eight high.

Jake clapped happily, completely forgetting that he was Simon's partner. Simon huffed around his cigar and threw down his cards. Blair raked in his winnings. Pushing his chips to the side, he checked his watch and pushed his chair back.

"Jake, my man, guess what time it is?"

"nuh, huh."

"Yep. Bedtime. Come on, let's go. There's a futon with your name on it."

"do i have to?"

"Big day tomorrow, remember? We have to go costume hunting and..."

Simon turned in his seat and let Jake slide down as the boy nodded enthusiastically.

"okay, bed now, costume tomorrow."

Blair held out his arm and Jake latched on. Blair swung him up and into his arms. "Say good-night, Jake."

"good-night jake."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"me too."

Amidst chuckles, the necessary good-nights were said, with Jake receiving a kiss from Megan, a tickle from Brown, a salute from Rafe and a mini hug from Joel. Jim slid back and stood, his obvious intention to accompany the two.

"You sure sleeping in your old room will be okay for him? That our playing won't bother him? Maybe upstairs?"

Blair looked at Jake, one eyebrow raised in question. Jake pointed to Blair's old room.

"Well, Jim, I think the decision has been made."

"Right." He reached out and rubbed the top of Jake's head, then leaned down and whispered, "see you tomorrow, okay?"

"promus?"

"Yep."

Blair disappeared behind the French doors and Jim went back to his seat, but his attention was focused in on the spare room. The rest of the gang was using the time to take a break, with Rafe, Simon and Joel heading up to the roof for a cigar. Megan excused herself and headed for the bathroom.

And from the small room, Jim could hear every word.

"Shoes."

Two feet wiggled up at Blair as Jake leaned back on his elbows. "What? I'm supposed to take them off for you? Since when?"

"since now?"

"Let me guess - another rule?"

"yep."

Blair knelt down and slipped off the ratty tennis shoes. "Why am I constantly surrounded by people with rules?"

"you need ruuules. lo-ts of ruuuules."

"I need rules? Me? Does Jake need rules?"

Jake waggled one finger in front of Blair's face. "one ruuule, only one."

"So, that would be the Disney Channel rule, right?"

A second finger joined the first. "Ah, so you have two rules?" Jake nodded sleepily, then as Blair pulled down the covers and slipped the pliant body under the cozy warmth, Jake spoke through a wide yawn, "disney channel and a story from blair every night."

Blair sat down on the edge of the bed and as Jake's hand crept out from under the blue blanket, Blair let his own fingers play a game of tug-o-war with Jake's as he asked, "And what kind of very short story must be heard tonight?"

"tell me 'bout one of your halloweenies."

"Okay, how 'bout one of my favorites?"

Jake nodded happily.

Out in the living room, Jim smiled. This was going to be good. He settled down to listen.

((((((boo)))))))

Jake's small fingers captured Blair's as he started speaking, voice low and soft.

"It started out like any normal day, Jake. I was excited because I had this friend, named Sammy, going with me."

"how old were you?"

"Ten."

"didn't you have a friend before?"

"Well, not usually. We moved around a lot, my mom and I. Anyway, I was going as Davy Crockett and I had this neat coonskin hat and everything and Sammy was going as an Indian and he had this nifty chief's hat and a bow and arrow and a knife and well, it was really cool."

Blair tugged on Jake's fingers and added, "Of course, not as cool as the bestest wizard in the world, but still - pretty cool." Jake nodded understandingly and Blair continued. "So anyway, my mom took me over to Sammy's and we had hamburgers and macaroni and cheese," he paused to grin as Jake opened his eyes enough to smack his lips, then,"and we had apple pie for dessert. Then it was time to get into our costumes. By seven, we were ready and Sammy's mom took us outside." His voice dropped low and scary...

"The wind was howling, carrying all the leaves in swirls around us and it was the darkest night I ever remember seeing. The moon was hidden behind the clouds and I looked up and I swear, the clouds looked just like long, skinny fingers with long, sharp nails."

Jake shivered and pulled the covers up to his neck, the said, "go on, go on."

"Well, we went to a few houses, a bunch of older kids with us and we got great stuff, you know? Big candy bars, full size candy bars, not like what they give out now. Not those puny little miniature candy bars. But see, the kids we were with, they were bigger and they didn't want to wait for us, so they ran ahead. Now Sammy's mom was on the sidewalk, talking with other mothers so Sammy and I decided to take a short - well, candy break, you know?"

Jake nodded, his eyes wide.

((((boo))))

Simon entered the loft, the smell of cigars still clinging to him. As he started to say something to Jim, the detective put his finger to his lips and indicated the bedroom. Simon walked over, getting close enough to hear Sandburg's voice...

((((boo))))

".....so I opened my candy bar..."

"what kind?"

"Um, Baby Ruth, I think and Sammy had a Butterfinger."

Jake smacked his lips again and asked, "will i get baby ruths and butterfingers on tuesday?"

"Oh, I'm sure of it and way more."

"kay, what happened next?"

"Well, we finished our candy and started to cut across the lawn with Sammy heading up the small hill to the large house above us. I remember shaking my head and saying, sammy, nuh, huh, we can't go there. that's mr. collins' house and he doesn't have a pumpkin or a light on or anything."

"what did sammy say?"

"He said he was going anyway, that the big kids skipped his house, but not him, no way. So of course, like an idiot, I followed."

Jake started to shake his head as he mouthed a big NO.

"Yep, I did. I followed him. I gotta tell ya, Jake, it was even darker," his voice lowered even more dramatically, " and the wind was blowing even harder and I just know those big tree branches, you know the ones, no leaves and long, straggly branches, like grasping fingers..."

Jake was nodding...

"...and I just know they were trying to get me, but I ran past them and caught up with Sammy and with shaking knees, we climbed up to the porch and there were all these spider webs and in the darkest corner, two gold eyes stared at us, then they - blinked...," his words were temporarily halted by a gasp from Jake, "and those golden eyes belonged to a - black cat but it just sat there, watching us."

((((boo))))

Outside the french doors, Simon had been joined by Megan and Joel...

((((boo))))

"So we stood there, shaking so hard you could hear our knees knocking, but gosh darn it, I was Davy Crockett and Sammy was a fierce Indian chief so I said, sammy, knock. And Sammy said, no, you knock. So I reached out and pulled the screen door open and I ..."

"knocked."

"Yep, I knocked. We could hear movement inside, and these big, heavy, ominous footsteps and I almost ran, right then and there, but..."

"you were davy crockett, king of the wild frontier."

"You got it, Jake. So I stood my ground and those heavy footsteps came close and stopped in front of the gigantic door and the knob started to turn and I swear, it got even darker, and then, then, the door swung open and there he stood..."

"mr. collins."

"Yep, Mr. Collins. And in his hand, in both of of his hands, he carried, he carried.."

(((boo)))

Outside, Simon, Rafe, Joel, Henri and Megan leaned forward, listening...

(((boo)))

"he carried what, blair? he carried what?"

"He carried...."

(((boo)))

"God damn it, what?" Megan hissed out impatiently. Simon poked her in the ribs.

(((boo)))

"He carried this really big, huge, round...bowl."

"what was - in the bowl?" Jake gasped out.

(((boo)))

"Yeah, what the hell was in that bowl?" Henri asked no one in particular but received the same poke in the ribs from both Simon and Megan.

(((boo)))

"Well, Sammy's eyes were glued to the bowl, but I knew we had to say it, so I did. I said, trick or treat and he, he, well, you won't believe what he said."

"what?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Ssh."

"He said, well, young men, here you go. And he leaned down to show us the bowl and inside," Blair's voice dropped to almost a whisper....

......and outside, heads leaned in while Jim sat grinning.

"....inside were the biggest, fattest, gooiest - "

Jake held his breath...

And outside, five hardened detectives held theirs...

"....caramel apples you've ever seen and wrapped around each wooden stick - a dollar bill. Well, two hands reached in so fast, your head would have spun around three times!"

Jake burst into musical giggles as his feet kicked off the covers, hands waving happily in the air.

"Okay, bed for you, Hoss."

Jake let Blair tuck him in again, his face flushed with excitement. "all those silly big kids and they missed it, didn't they, blair?"

"Yep, they did, but not Sammy and me." He bent down and kissed the top of Jake's head.

"Now go to sleep."

He'd almost made it to the door when...

"blair?"

He turned and smiled. "What, Jake?"

"this was your room?"

"Yep, this was my room."

"it's the bestest then."

(0(0(0)

The table was cleared off, dishes washed and put away, trash taken out, deck of cards boxed and put away next to the chips. All was right at 852 Prospect. The majority of the losers had left for their respective homes following the usual amount of grumbling about guys with long hair and their luck with cards.

Simon had remained to help Jim clean up and was now relaxing on the couch, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. Jim sat at the other end of the couch, nursing one final beer. Across from the two men sat Sandburg, his own hands wrapped around an equally hot mug of coffee.

He'd just finished giving Simon the long version of how he'd brought a guest to the poker game.

"You know, I'd almost forgotten," Simon paused, glancing first at Jim, then over to Sandburg before resuming, "that Sandburg doesn't live here any more."

Jim studied his beer bottle, turning it around in his fingers as if he hadn't heard Simon's comment. Blair glanced around the loft, his fingers tightening on the mug. Simon wisely decided to change the subject.

"That Jake is something else. He's got us all hooked."

Blair looked up and grinned wide. "Yeah, he's pretty terrific, isn't he?"

Jim gave Simon a wicked look, then started whistling. Banks caught on, and joined in.

Blair's eyes narrowed, his forehead creasing in puzzlement as he tried to figure out what was going on...

...and then he recognized the tune...

The theme song from Davy Crockett.

"You assholes were listening!"

One pair of blue eyes and one pair of brown blinked innocently back at him. Then Jim leaned forward and with a conspiratorial wink at Simon, asked, "You still got that coonskin cap, Chief?"

Shaking his head in surrender, Blair stood and headed for the small bedroom. "I've gotta get Jake home, not to mention these weary bones. And if my bones are weary, you two old men have to be in some serious pain."

Jim looked over at Simon, who was grinning at him. "Did your partner just call us old?"

"Yes, Simon, I believe he did."

"These young whippersnappers get so uppity when they win a few poker hands."

"Yes, don't they? And of course, in Sandburg's case, it doesn't really take much, does it? Give the guy a few paperclips to play with, a report to write, a few poker hands to win..."

"Yeah, he's a happy camper. Did he play with his mashed potatoes too?"

"Well, as a matter of fact - yes. Made these cute little designs, kinda like Richard Dreyfuss in that Spielberg movie, you know?"

"No wonder he and Jake get along so well..."

"So close in age..."

A wet sponge hit Jim on the back of the head.

"Are you two guys finished with the Bashing Sandburg Hour?"

Jim turned in his seat, right arm slung over the back of the couch. "Well, no, not really. I was going to share a few facts about you, bubble baths and rubber duckies but if you'd rather I didn't...."

He lobbed the sponge neatly overhead and watched gleefully as it struck Blair's back with a splat. Sandburg bent down, picked it up, then tossed it underhand into the kitchen. He watched it thud against the fridge, then slide to the ground. Turning his back on it, he flipped Jim the bird and grinning, went quietly through the French doors.

The light of the living room provided enough illumination to guide him to the edge of the bed. He sat down, picked up Jake's shoes, then lifted the blankets from Jake's legs.. He slipped on one shoe, then the other, then tied both. Blair lifted the boy into his arms and cradling Jake's head on his shoulder, he walked out into the living room where Jim stood, a small red parka in his hands.

Jim slipped the jacket on around the sleeping boy, his head so close to Blair's, their breath mingled softly. For the briefest of moments their eyes met, before Jim's darted away.

Blair swallowed hard.

Softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping child, Jim asked, "want me to bring the dip bowl with me tomorrow?"

Blair shook his head and smiled. "it's yours anyway."

"you schmuck."

"yep. but, hey, you've got it back now."

Simon was putting on his coat as Blair walked to the door. As he checked his pocket for his keys he gazed at Jake, then at Blair. Simon ran a finger through the boy's blond curls, then brushed the soft cheek with the back of his large, dark hand.

"he looks good on you, sandburg."

The drive home was - different. Jake, a sound sleeper under any circumstances, continued to sleep the sleep of the truly innocent as Blair's brain waged a battle with itself.

There was no way he'd misunderstood the look in Jim's eyes when he'd been putting the jacket on Jake. No way. Okay, the emotions in that one, brief glance had been quickly shut down, but not before Blair had seen and catalogued.

He knew that look. His own eyes had mirrored back the exact same emotions.

Want - need - love.

His fingers gripped the steering wheel as he found himself stopping a little too quickly, a yellow light winking at him.

Want - need - love.

He rubbed his temple where Jim's breath had brushed him first, and his left leg shook slightly at the remembered warmth of Jim's body, so close to his, a knee sliding against his leg....

He had it bad. No news there. But tonight, for the first time - he realized that Jim might have it bad too. That maybe Jim?

Maybe.

Neither of them were strangers to same sex relationships, although, truth be known, Blair suspected his experiences outnumbered Jim's. But Blair had put his love life on hold many months ago when he realized that no one could hold a candle to James Ellison. The closest he'd come to any relationship had been Cheryl Johnson. And that had been more of an unconscious reflex as a result of watching the exasperating mating dance exhibited by Jim and Megan, than his own desires.

Although, Katie...

Blair reached over, his fingers lightly stroking Jake's hand and he smiled. Apparently he, Blair Sandburg, Mr. Bachelor For Life, had a soft spot. Who knew? Certainly not him. Children and animals had never exactly taken to him. Nor he to them.

And now? His thumb rubbed a gentle circle over the small hand...

He was hooked - line and sinker.

Never once in thirty years, had he considered being a father. Even with Katie, the idea had been abstract, barely there, the merest - whisper - of a suggestion and only because he'd been reaching out to closest person and that had been Cheryl.

The truth was that he'd deliberately closed himself off from any idea of being a father and he wasn't sure why. Maybe because of his own fatherless life, or the upbringing that had left him so self-sufficient, and in many ways, emotionally deficient. But whatever it was, the notion of carrying on the Sandburg gene had never taken root. He'd even considered the idea that no progeny, in this case, was good progeny.

So what the hell had happened?

Jake had happened.

Oddly enough, he still had no desire to bring forth his own seed, but the feelings he'd been developing for the four year old were definitely fatherly. Protective and fiercely so. Proud and strutting his stuff like a peacock, as if he had produced Jake. Go figure. Because he sure couldn't.

He turned into the alley behind the building and swung into his parking space, then cut the engine. For a few moments he gazed in wonder at the sleeping boy and a kind of heat spread through him along with a tightness in his jaw and he was suddenly having difficulty swallowing....

God, he loved him. Already, he loved him.

He unbuckled Jake and tenderly lifted him into his arms.

Blair walked through the archway, inserted his key into the gate and swung it open. He guided it back to the locking position, careful not let it clang, then walked to his front door.

Once inside, he moved to the spare bedroom where the Aero bed had been set up earlier that day. He tenderly lowered Jake and carefully removed his jacket and shoes. Blair tucked him in and as he'd done at Jim's, kissed the top of the boy's head.

"good-night, jake."

Blair walked back out to the living room, started a fire, removed his jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch, then sat down. He was in no hurry to get to bed. In fact, bed was the last place he wanted to be.

The fire caught and rose, the flames licking hungrily at the wood. The glow flickered over the floor, the table and the man seated before it. He didn't move, his eyes captive to the dancing shards of fire.

"AW GOD!"

God's response was to giggle and jump again.

"Jake, are you up?

A head peeked over Blair's body, eyes crinkled with laughter. "no. still asleep."

"Well then, I appear to have a monster in my bed."

"grogph, grrrrrrr..."

"I need the Great Wizard Jake to save me! Somebody, quick, call the Great Wizard Jake before I'm eaten alive!"

Jake tumbled over Blair's body to land safely in the man's arms.

"i'm here, i'll save you!"

"I am saved! Hallelujah," then Blair scrunched up his face and growled out, " and now I have you, Great Wizard Jake and I am the evil and dreaded Blairgorgon and it is my sworn duty to ruthlessly tickle you!"

Fingers found every ticklish spot on the boy and the bedroom was filled with his giggles as he squirmed and kicked, trying valiantly to swat the evil tickle fingers away.

"i need my wand and staff," he giggled out.

"Tis too late, Great Wizard!"

Blair buried his face in Jake's neck and blew hard. "Take that, Great Wizard," he exclaimed jubilantly.

Jake let his body go limp, feigning defeat. As Blair leaned over, Jake attacked, his own fingers digging in, finding a few ticklish spots of his own.

Blair fell back, arms outstretched, holding in his laughter as he meekly surrendered to the Great Wizard.

"Oh, Great Wizard, even without your magical wand and staff, you have bested this lowly monster, Blairgorgon. I surrender to your superior strength and wisdom. Take pity on me, and Mickey Mouse pancakes shall be yours!"

Jake was on his feet in an instant, jumping up and down on the bed, clapping his hands as he crowed in victory.

"oh goody, mickey mouse pancakes. i won, i won!"

"Come on, scamp, let's get this show on the road. We've a whole lot to do today before Jim gets here."

"my costume, my costume!"

"Yep, and buying a pumpkin, and getting candy for giving out when we get back from your trick or treating --- wait, we don't have to buy candy, we'll just give 'em yours!"

Jake threw himself down over Blair's body, solicitng a loud OOF from the man. With fingers poised over Blair's stomach, Jake waggled his head and said, "nuh, huh, my candy is my candy!"

Holding up his hands in mock fear, Blair shook and said, "OOooh, okay, Great Wizard, but you did promise to share with Jim."

"i'll share, always share, even with cherry, even when she never shares."

Blair scooped him up and after giving him another raspberry on the neck, to delighted squeals, he got them both out of bed, robes on, and together they headed out to the kitchen.

Jake poured more boysenberry syrup on the remaining Mickey Mouse ear and forked the whole thing into his mouth. Blair looked on and marveled at how watching a four year old shovel messy, gooey pancakes into their mouths had taken on such joy. He shook his head helplessly.

Jake swiped the last bit of syrup up with his finger and plopped said digit into his mouth, making a loud, satisfied, "ummmm" sound. Blair didn't even bother to look stern, Jake never would have bought it.

"Me thinks the Great Wizard Jake is done."

Jake sat back and nodded happily. "all done and all stuffted."

"Stuffted?"

"stuffted."

"Well then, may this lowly defeated monster suggest that you take your plate and put it on the counter, then go get dressed?"

Jake slid off the phone book, took the plate in both hands and carried it to the sink where, by standing on tiptoe, he carefully deposited it.

Blair took his plate, both cups and was just setting them in the sink when the doorbell rang.

As Jake scampered off to his room to change, Blair opened the door to find one of his neighbors, Mrs. Carstairs, standing worriedly on his stoop.

"Oh, Blair, I hope I didn't wake you?"

Realizing that he was only in his robe, he shook his head and unconsciously tightened the belt.

"No, just feeding Jake. What's up?"

"I was hoping Karen left the plumber's number with you? My kitchen sink is clogged and Stu is out of town until Monday."

Maxine Carstairs was in her forties, sweetly plump, fair-skinned and a natural redhead. Her husband Stu was an accountant with clients all over the state. Blair had learned early that she panicked easily when Stu was on one of his trips so he hastened to reassure her.

"Look, why don't I check it out? Jake and I are going shopping a little later, but there's plenty of time to take a look. What do you say?"

Her relief was almost palpable. "Oh, would you, Blair? I'd so appreciate it. Stu would just kill me if something went wrong."

"No problem. I'll change, grab Jake, and we'll be both be over in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Blair."

Twenty minutes later, tool box in hand, he and Jake knocked on the Carstairs door, ready to do battle with a clogged sink.

Jim was waffling. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, and he was waffling. God, how he hated indecision. He checked his watch again. Gee, ten minutes later than the last time.

Which made it eleven ten. He was supposed to be at Sandburg's around four. So - he'd be a little - early. There. Decision made. He grinned.

He slid the truck next to the curb, put it in park and turned the key. But he didn't move, instead choosing to gaze out the window and up at the building. He'd never actually seen The Anjasmayo before, but he'd heard all about it from both Brown and Taggart, who'd helped Blair move.

To this day, he regretted the chicken shit decision to take Carolyn up on the offer to fly to San Francisco for the wedding of an old friend of theirs on the same weekend that Sandburg was moving out. He knew damn well that under normal circumstances he'd have turned down the invitation, sent his best wishes and a gift, but otherwise, stayed in town - with Sandburg.

Or - Sandburg would have gone with him.

Shouldn't that have been a clue, Great Sentinel of the City?

Apparently not.

He checked the time - eleven- thirty. He climbed out of the truck and it was only as he entered the lobby archway that it occured to him that maybe Blair and Jake had already headed out to run their errands.

God, he was a fool.

He was about to turn around when he heard the unmistakable giggling.

He peered through the gate and fixed the sound on apartment number two. He was about to buzz when a young man about Sandburg's age, came around the corner and unlocked the gate.

"Hey, you visiting someone?"

"Yes, Blair Sandburg. I'm his partner."

The man stepped aside, holding the gate open for him. "Go on in and say hi to Jake for me."

Walking past the guy, Jim nodded, saying, "Thanks and I will."

The gate clanged shut and Jim headed for number two.

How early was he? Oh, yeah - four and half hours. But who was counting.

(0(0(0)

Jim entered the courtyard and paused, stunned by the beauty and peace of the small bit of paradise.

Standing in the middle of the lovely courtyard, he turned slowly, taking it all in, his awe almost a living thing.

His eyes feasted on the sun dappled pond and gurgling fountain, its water bubbling up and over to spill back into the rippling water. Mesmerized, he gazed at the shade trees, shrubs and plants, at the brilliant fall colors, punctuated by the various turning leaves, at the blooming flowers and at the hummingbirds that sped to and from.

The patches of bright green grass, sparkling in the sun, just begged for bare feet, while the scattered chairs invited privacy and meditation.

No wonder Blair loved this place.

But above and beyond the beauty of this simple backyard was the - silence. He breathed it in, then let it out in a contented sigh.

Floating in the background, just on the edge of his consciousness, Jim could hear Sandburg, but rather than jarring the peace of the courtyard, Blair's voice seemed to be a part of it. Natural, rythmic, the sound of life. He followed it to apartment number two.

The door was open, a screen the only barrier between Jim and the voice he craved. He rapped on the aluminum frame and a moment later, a woman greeted him, a portable phone in her hand.

"Hi, what can I do for you?"

"I'm Detective Jim Ellison and I'm looking for my partner, Detective Sandburg?"

If she was surprised by his appearance outside her door, she didn't show it. Instead she gave him a huge, welcoming smile and pushed the screen door out, stepping aside to allow him entrance.

"He's here, currently buried under my sink." At Jim's odd look, she hastened to add with a grin, "My sink is clogged and Blair is fixing it. Just go right in, to your left. I'm on the phone with my husband. If you're thirsty, help yourself. I've iced tea and sodas in the fridge."

Jim followed her directions and stepped to the kitchen door. It was propped open and his first glance inside showed a pair of sneakers. He followed that up to the jean clad legs sticking out from under the sink.

Blair's left leg was stretched out flat, his right leg bent at the knee, tennis shoe tapping the floor. Even under a sink, Blair moved to his own music. On the floor next to Sandburg sat a crosslegged Jake, elbows on knees, face braced by small, grease stained hands, blue eyes tracking every move Sandburg made.

With a gentle smile playing about his lips, Jim watched a greasy, black smudged hand appear from under the sink as a disembodied voice said, "the wrench, Jake. It's the one that looks like a nutcracker."

The boy lifted his head, looked about him, spotted the wrench, picked it up and happily placed it in the outstretched hand. The deep, thrumming voice mumbled, "thanks," and Jake responded with a happy, "welcome."

Jim stepped in quietly, putting a finger to his lips to warn Jake not to give him away. Jake smiled back and nodded, then made a motion with his fingers, indicating the zipping of his mouth.

A few clanging noises, a muttered shit and then the greasy hand appeared again. The wrench was set down and fingers wiggled. "the smaller wrench, Jake, that's the one that looks like a - short - nutcracker."

Jim knelt down behind Jake and picked up the requested item. He set it in the questing hand, saying, "Actually Jake, it looks like - Sandburg." The body under the sink jerked up, there was muffled thwank followed by a very unmuffled "fuck".

Shaking his head hopelessly, Jake said, "bad blair."

Jim rested his hand on the silky curls and added with great authority, "Yes Jake. Very bad Blair. Bad word, bad Blair."

Bad Blair pushed himself out from under the nether regions of plumbing land and sat up, rubbing the top of his head.

"Jeesh Ellison, you trying to kill me? And Jake, I did say a bad word and even if my head was nearly decapitated, there was no excuse."

Jim was in no way prepared for Blair Sandburg in the guise of handy man. For one thing, he'd never seen this version of Sandburg before and for another, since when did grease smeared on the hands, arms and face of the younger man, send Jim's libido skyrocketing?

The man in question had his hair tied back, new silver wire-rimmed glasses on his nose, a white, sleeveless undershirt and said jeans. With the grease and dirt, he looked like the centerfold for Plumbers Digest.

Or Everyman's Wet Dream Digest.

Or Jim Ellison's Continuous Playing Wet Dream.

Jim cleared his throat, adjusted his jeans and in a voice that belied his need, asked, "How come you never fixed anything at the loft, Sandburg?"

Blair scratched his head, checked his fingers, spotted a nice bit of grease and as he threatened Jake by waving it under his nose, he answered matter-of-factly, "Nothing ever stayed broken long enough, Jim. You knew when something was clogged before the drain did."

Jake scooted back, doing his best to avoid the stalking finger, shaking his head and giggling. Jim took pity, swooped down, picked him up and after settling him against his chest, said, "Let's blow this joint, Jake, before we're both greasy messes. Why don't you show me the pond outside while Blair finishes up here, uh?"

"goody! you can see my fishies. come on, let's go." He tugged at the collar of Jim's blue polo shirt.

Sandburg blinked up the the two, then harumphed. "Deserters. Rats, both of you, deserting the sinking ship."

Jim high-fived Jake as both said, "yep."