Author's website: http://writingonthewall.slashcity.net/~angelise7/toc.htm
This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Previously released in a zine and written with the help of my friends, Dark Cherry and Megan.
There is a *brief* mention of a crime being committed that results in the death of a minor, original character.

Music and light spilled into the darkness that surrounded the club as several laughing couples stumbled out of the door, their happy voices flowing into the stillness of the night. Brian Rafe sat in his car and stared after the retreating duos, his heart longing for what those couples had - the shared companionship, the joyful camaraderie, the loving intimacy.

One of the couples stopped nearby, and their bodies melded together as they hugged and kissed. The two men were so obviously in love, their touches tender and slow. Brian groaned in despair. This was a major mistake. He should have never have come to Passions. The answer to his loneliness would not be found here at this club.

But, dear God, he was so lonely. His life had been empty for so long, and he missed waking up with his arms and legs tangled around the warm body of a lover. He longed to be embraced by strong arms, to be touched by exploring fingers and to be tasted by a wandering mouth.

Brian hungered for love, but not just any love. The thirty-two year old detective desired a relationship with a man he could never have . . . his boss -- the very large, very stubborn and very STRAIGHT Simon Banks, Captain of the Major Crimes Department of the Cascade Police Department.

Brian moaned low in his throat as his mind replayed a scene from this morning -- his Captain entering the elevator, straight from a workout in the basement gym, his dark skin gleaming with sweat. Brian had slumped against the elevator's back wall, his lungs struggling for air, his body hungering for a single touch of that hot, sexy man. He had made the mistake of closing his eyes, and his mind had teased him relentlessly with the image of their bodies, slick with sweat, sliding against each other -- darkness embracing light, mouths hungrily consuming while hands worked feverishly to quench the fire of passion.

He had nearly come unglued when, upon exiting the elevator, Simon had placed a hand upon his shoulder. The firm, welcoming grip had startled him, and unknowingly his brown eyes had darkened to black velvet as desire blazed through his body. He loved this man, loved his sharp intelligence, his caring heart, and most of all his courageous spirit.

Yet, Brian knew his love would never be reciprocated. Simon was completely heterosexual, a woman's man, a connoisseur of the fair sex. Therefore, he worshipped his love from afar, from the solitary confines of his lonely heart.

A noise redirected his attention to the club's entrance. There standing in the doorway was a couple, two men that, with a heartfelt wish, could have been him and Simon. The taller black man bent down over the smaller man, listening intently to his words. It must have been a funny comment because the larger man smiled, his grin evolving into hearty laughter.

Brian felt his heart shatter as he watched the black man grab up his lover, lifting him off the ground and wrapping him in a bone-crushing embrace. The two then made their way to the vehicle parked next to his, and even though he knew he was staring, invading their private moment of love, Brian couldn't tear his eyes away.

The couple took refuge in the dark cover of the night, and Brian whistled softly when the couple began to boldly caress each other, pushing aside clothing as hands and mouths frantically explored. The darkly tinted windows of his car shielded his voyeurism, and Brian couldn't help but wish for something that would just as easily shield his heart from the pain of watching the two men.

Why? Why can't that be me and Simon? Please tell me why?

Brian closed his eyes and refused to feed off of someone else's love. He needed to learn how to live his life alone.

+++++++

Seconds after the couple drove away, the detective's police band radio blared into action, reporting a homicide and requesting any available officer to respond. Brian recognized the address as one that was nearby, and he immediately grabbed his radio's receiver, acknowledging the request as he peeled out of the club's parking lot.

Within less than a minute, Brian had arrived on the scene. He entered the rundown shotgun-style house carefully, an eerie feeling teasing his mind. The scent of blood was heavy in the air as he slowly opened the bedroom door, and the sight that greeted him ripped away all control. Brian fell to his knees and reached out a trembling hand to comfort the small child that lay unmoving on the floor.

"Oh God! Joey!" His cry of horror launched the tears that spilled unnoticed down his pale cheeks as he checked for any signs of life. "Shit! He's not dead. He can't be dead."

Completely disregarding police procedure, Brian slipped an arm beneath the shoulders of the slender child and hugged the lifeless body close to his own, unconsciously stroking the short blond curls that were now matted with blood. He shut his eyes hard and tried to erase the gory display before him and the horror of another meaningless death. Seconds passed as he struggled, instead, to remember the good times they had spent together -- baseball in the park, horseback riding with Henri, surfing at the beach. Now the good times would be no more, and his heart would only have the empty whispers of past memories.

"Dear sweet Joey. What a waste, what a goddamn waste." So lost in his pain and sorrow, Brian did not hear the steps echoing behind him.

+++++++

Upon leaving work, Simon heard the call as it came over his radio, and the beat of his heart quickened when he recognized the voice that acknowledged the summons . . . Brian Rafe. Rafe was off duty and therefore alone. Simon laid on the gas, anxious to provide backup for his detective. The address was on his way home and would take him only minutes to reach.

The first thing that assaulted him upon entering the house was the smell, the pervasive scent of blood and death. Next came the sound of sobs, and he discerned the noise was coming from the bedroom. Gun drawn, Simon stepped through the open door and froze in disbelief, the scene before him chilling his soul.

There was blood everywhere, and on the floor, kneeling on his knees was Rafe, holding the dead body of a young boy.

The child looked no older than eight or ten, small and thin, a head full of golden curls tinted red with blood, the same blood that now stained the hands and clothing of his detective. Simon closed his eyes momentarily, his heart despairing for the grief-stricken young man sobbing quietly.

"Rafe?" he called out gently, his senses alert, searching the scene for any clues of impending danger.

Upon hearing his superior's voice, Brian turned his head and looked at Simon. His face was contorted in agony and his red-rimmed eyes shadowed with raw heartache, their depths brimming with tears that rolled down his face unchecked.

Simon swallowed hard, the onslaught of emotions overwhelming him as he continued to stare at Rafe, his mind unable to grasp the nature of the tormented man kneeling on the floor. He had never seen his detective like this. "Rafe?"

Brian hugged the boy even closer, his voice hoarse, ragged. "Dead, Simon. He's . . . ." Brian's mouth moved, but the words lodged in his throat, fresh tears staining his face. "What kind of soulless animal does a thing like this?" He asked the question, hoping Simon could supply the answer, and thereby eliminate all the pain and sorrow.

Simon holstered his gun and walked over to where Rafe knelt on the floor. He laid his hand against the man's neck, a gentle pressure that would alert Rafe of his close proximity. "Rafe, you have to put him down. Remember, we have to follow procedure."

"Fuck procedure!" Rafe's eyes were wild, and the incensed swearing made him look even more desperate in his grief.

Simon spoke softly, as if calming a frightened child. "Rafe, following procedure is the best chance we have at catching whoever did this to the child. Did you know him?"

Rafe's features softened and a sad, tearful smile appeared on his face as he tenderly placed the boy's body back on the cold, blood-soaked floor. "Yeah, his name is . . . was Joey Martin. I had the privilege of being his Big Brother."

Brian choked and his words stumbled over one another. "His dad split when he was born, and his mom had to work three jobs to make ends meet. So, I took him places, showed him the wonders of this city. We had so much fun. Joey, he was the son I've always wanted." Brian started to weep in earnest now.

Simon's heart ached for his young colleague. If that had been Darryl lying on that floor -- Simon shook his head. He didn't even want to think about it. Instead, he placed his hand on Rafe's shoulder and silently offered the man his support. Rafe looked up at him with such need and hurt in his eyes that it tore at his heart. Without thinking, Simon shifted his hand and tangled his fingers in Rafe's dark hair, gently massaging the man's neck.

Brian was comforted by Simon's gesture of compassion. Unfortunately, his captain's gentle touches opened the door on his deeply hidden feelings, and unable to contain himself, Brian threw his arms around Simon's waist, burying his face against the flat planes of the man's abdomen as unforgiving pain wracked his body.

Brian literally poured his grief and tears onto the other man's shirt. And even though he knew it was wrong, he cherished the feel of Simon's strong arms around his shoulders, his mind automatically wandering into the dream that held his heart captive -- the dream of Simon loving him, their bodies and hearts united as one.

The screaming whine of police sirens startled Brian, alerting him to the possible interpretation of this scene by other cops. Him on his knees, in front of Simon. No! Don't go there! It hurts there.

Taking a deep breath, he let go of Simon and allowed the older man to pull him upright. He held on to Simon's hand one fraction of a second longer than allowed, and when a gentle squeeze to his hand followed, his eyes went wide as he stared at his secret love.

"Simon?"

Brian stood silent as his supervisor removed his own overcoat and dressed him in it. His eyes misted over as he watched Simon's large callused hands tenderly button him into the garment, effectively hiding his blood-stained shirt from view. This one act of kindness tugged at his heart more than anything else that had occurred that night, and his mind again surrendered to a plethora of 'what ifs.'

Regrettably he had no time to dwell on dreams. In an instant the moment was shattered as other policemen arrived on the scene. A gentle grip of his shoulder, a touch that remained in place for several seconds, centered him, and after wiping the tears from his face, Brian smiled gratefully at Simon. He briefly touched the man's fingers in appreciation and would have added a verbal thank-you but was prevented by the appearance of the lead investigating officer. By the time Brian had finished giving his statement, Simon was surrounded by the press, and no longer accessible.

Brian wearily exited the house, hesitating beside Simon's car on his way to his own vehicle. Finding himself alone with no one to witness his actions, he removed his captain's overcoat and placed it on the driver's seat. One last hopeful glance was cast toward the crime scene, and when Simon did not appear, Brian decided it was time to head for home.

The miles sped by as his thoughts wrestled with what had passed between he and Simon. Tonight his heart had reached out to the big man and whispered of his longing. Had Simon heard his plea?

+++++++

Brian stood at the back door to his home and stared at the darkened dwelling, unwilling to step inside and face the emptiness that was his life. He instead remained outside, and the frosty coldness of the night bore down heavily upon him, the oppressive quiet a shelter for his grief. Looking up at up at the stars, he softly apologized to the gentle soul that was now making its way heavenward.

"I'm sorry, Joey. So goddamn sorry."

Brian fell to his knees and ripped the bloodied shirt he wore from his body. He threw the filthy garment away from him in an effort to rid his body and heart of the stain. "Dear God in heaven, why? Why Joey?"

He skimmed his fingers across his shoulders, neck and head, mirroring the touches his captain had comforted him with earlier. "Simon," he whispered hoarsely, "I need you. Please take this pain away." Circling his chilled body with his arms, Brian gripped hard, welcoming the aching protest of his ribs and the biting cold that stung his flesh.

Pain was good. Pain reminded him he was still alive.

Alive and alone.

+++++++

Simon shut the door with ingrained restraint before dropping his keys and briefcase on the table. Instinct rather than sight guided him into the living room, and he sank down onto the couch, weariness descending heavily upon his broad shoulders. Closing his eyes, Simon allowed the dark, peaceful solitude to soothe his tired body.

He permitted himself several precious moments of blessed silence, giving his mind time to empty itself of all thoughts. Too soon the reality of his life invaded his consciousness -- the absence of light, the solitary ticking of a clock, the heavy suffocating quietness of his house. All were harsh reminders of just how unhappy and alone he was.

His house was no longer a home. It was merely a dwelling where he existed. Many of the rooms stood empty and were a constant testament to the failure of his marriage. Joan had left, taking Darryl with her, and Simon still grieved the loss of his son.

Intent on removing all evidence of the moisture that stained his dark cheeks, Simon lifted his hands to his face, and it was only then that he realized he still had a grip on his overcoat, the coat that had sheltered Rafe.

Brian Rafe.

Simon mourned for the young detective and the shocking tragedy he had been forced to witness earlier. Poor Rafe, to lose someone of that tender age in such a cruel and senseless manner. Tears once again escaped his control and trickled down his cheeks as Simon relived the horror of the child's death. Rafe's grief had been overwhelming, a deep, soul-wrenching sorrow that had touched Simon more than he was willing to admit.

He had been disturbed by the need to gather Rafe close and hold him tight, and his hands had moved without conscious thought when Rafe had wrapped his arms around his waist. Simon had sincerely only meant to comfort his co-worker, but his hands had rebelled and flooded his mind with an intense desire to experience the warmth of Rafe's body, to seek out an emotional connection that implied a deeper intimacy than mere friendly comfort.

Simon stared into the darkness, his eyes unseeing as his gaze turned inward and searched his heart for the truth. He unwillingly acknowledged that the tender moment spent with Rafe earlier had finally brought his sexuality into question, and to be truthful, Simon had, for several months now, been quite aware of his increasing attraction for the dark-haired detective. There were too many scattered moments to ignore -- moments when he found himself staring at Rafe, his mind focused on the handsome man instead of the work piling up on his desk. Hell, it was a wonder Jim or Blair hadn't caught him staring at Rafe like a lovesick fool.

A memory snagged Simon's attention -- this past summer's annual Cascade Police Department picnic and a game of football with him and Rafe on opposing teams. There had been a fierce scramble for a dropped catch, and Simon had tackled Rafe by the legs. Instead of falling forward, Rafe had topped backwards, landing squarely on Simon. The man's slender physique had been plastered against him as they both battled for the elusive pigskin. There had been a moment of weakness when his fingers had strayed unconsciously over certain body parts. Rafe's eyes had gone wide with surprise, not to mention his cheeks turning ruddy red, and Simon had snatched his hands away in record time, surrendering the football to Rafe without one word of protest.

His mind turned from the past to the present, specifically to the moment that had occurred only hours before when he had smoothed his hand over Rafe's hair. Even now he could feel the silky thickness of the man's dark chestnut hair, and his body tightened in response to the memory.

Simon raked a hand over his face. His mind was screaming -- *NO! Simon Caleb Banks, you are 100% heterosexual. You are a lover of women. You CANNOT be having these feelings*. His heart, on the other hand, whispered -- Yes, Simon. Yes! You can have feelings for Rafe. You CAN fall in love with him.

The older man shook his head and tried to clear the confusion from his thoughts. But what about his heart? How did one go about cleansing the heart of emotions that bewildered and disturbed? How? Simon looked toward heaven for guidance.

Finding no answers in the ceiling above his head, he sighed and lifted the coat he held to his face, softly kissing the collar before dropped the soiled garment on the floor. His eyes grew heavy and his mind surrendered to the dream image of him holding Rafe against him. Sleep quickly overtook him, and the silence embraced a single word that was whispered on a slow drowsy exhalation of breath.

"Brian."

+++++++

Brian stepped into the elevator and slumped against the back wall with utter exhaustion. It was midmorning and his shift was only half over. Dark circles under his eyes attested to the fact that he had been up the entire night consoling Joey's mother. Brian had volunteered to be the one to break the horrifying news to Gina Martin, and her inconsolable grief had only added to his own pain and suffering, shattering his fragile heart once again.

Brian sighed and ran his hand over his face. It seemed the day was never going to end, and when he exited the elevator, his gaze automatically traveled in the direction of Simon's office. The room was still dark, witness to its occupant's absence. Gnawing on his bottom lip, Brian stifled the rising need to be enclosed in a soul-warming hug by Simon.

"Get a grip," he roughly admonished himself. "Simon's got better things to do than baby-sit your wimpy butt." Brian glanced one last time at his boss' office, not noticing that his hand rubbed the area over his heart in a subconscious effort to ease the ache of loneliness that had taken permanent residence there.

"Hey, H! Did you get that file we needed from the feds?" Taking a deep breath, Brian refocused his emotions and attention back on his work.

+++++++

Hours later, Simon walked into his office, his head pounding with a splitting headache. His whole body ached from having to deal with the horror of last night. It had been a hell of a day, but at least he would be able to report to Rafe that the child's murderer had been arrested and was now behind bars.

Leaning back in his chair, Simon fought to clear his mind. His brief moment of respite was interrupted by a knock on the door, and the subject of his thoughts stood in the doorway.

"Umm . . . Captain? Can I come in? I knocked but you didn't . . . ."

Simon again his eyes briefly and offered up a small prayer of help. Please God. Show me the way. Am I ready to love again? Am I ready to share that love with a man?

His voice gruff with bridled emotion, Simon gestured Rafe inside. "Yeah, come in, but close the door."

Brian took up a position next to Simon's desk, the concern and love he felt for the man evident on his face. When Simon remained silent, Brian moved cautiously closer, and his hesitant steps took him behind the large chair in which his boss sat. Gently, he laid his fingers on Simon's neck and began to massage the tense muscles he found there. Brian knew he was crossing the line, but he didn't care. It was time to take a leap of faith, and he freely allowed his fingers to convey the depth of his feelings, hoping with all his heart that he had correctly read the emotions that had shadowed Simon's eyes last night. His fingers danced across the tight musculature of the big man's neck and shoulders, unconsciously kneading the flesh.

"Sir . . . Simon, I wanted to thank you for last night. I truly appreciated the special consideration you showed me." Brian leaned down and trailed a simple touch across Simon's cheek. "Your concern, your understanding. Simon, do you . . . I mean . . . is there a chance that you . . . ?"

The hidden meaning behind those words paralyzed Simon for a mere instant. Images of his peers, his friends shunning him, judging him compelled him into action. He jumped up from his chair, and his abrupt move startled Rafe, causing him to stumble backwards and bump into the wall. "Sorry," Simon mumbled before making his escape. He walked to the windows and stared out, chewing on his cigar furiously.

"Rafe." Simon cleared his throat, and in his most authoritative, commanding voice, brusquely addressed his detective. "I appreciate your thanks, but it was nothing I wouldn't have done for any officer under my command. Please don't read anything further into the gesture." Simon waved his cigar through the air in a dismissive manner. "Now, if that's all, I have some serious work to do."

For a second, Brian couldn't breathe because the pieces of his broken heart were choking him. The intense pain of rejection nearly brought him to tears right there in front of Simon, but he took a deep breath and clamped down hard on his emotions. He would not compromise his working relationship with Simon by walking out of his office with his emotions in disarray.

Without uttering a sound Brian left and quickly made his way to the men's room. His hasty retreat did not go unnoticed by his partner. Henri silently followed him, ready to offer a friendly shoulder. Pushing the restroom door open, he saw his friend washing his face.

"Bri? What happened?"

"Nothing!"

A simple straight answer, but the pain behind the words spoke volumes and betrayed the younger man. "Come on, Bri! I know you better than that, man. What happened in there? Tell me." Henri patted his partner on the back. "You know I'll keep your secrets."

"I know."

More of a whisper than words, but it was all Henri needed to hear to know his friend was suffering some serious hurt. With a gentle tug he pulled Brian closer to the stalls and away from potential prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. The fact that his partner was gay did nothing to stop him from hugging him close and tight. "I've gotcha, Brian. Let it out. Let it all out."

Several minutes of misery passed before Brian was able to pull himself away and compose his tattered emotions. Taking a step back, he leaned against the wall and began his confession.

+++++++

"Dammit!"

Simon threw down his pen in disgust. Work had just become impossible, especially because he found himself writing Rafe's name every third sentence. Confusion and frustration was tearing his heart apart, and with another curse rising to his lips, he rubbed his hands over his haggard features. Maybe a splash of cold water on his face would help. Maybe it would wake him out of his stupor. And maybe, hopefully, it would clear the chaos that was overwhelming his mind.

Simon got up from his desk and headed towards the men's restroom. As soon as he walked through the door he heard Rafe's voice, and it stopped Simon cold. He stood motionless, eavesdropping as the door slid silently shut behind him.

"Man, Bri. I can't believe what you're telling me!"

Henri's voice. Rafe was talking to his partner.

"It's true. I can't help it. I love him."

Simon held his breath, and his hands clenched with trepidation.

"Bri, come on. That man is so damn straight, not to mention he's your captain."

Simon did not hear the rest of Henri's words. Lightening had struck him deaf with the truth of the moment. Rafe loved him. Loved him, Simon Banks. There was no escape now -- the blinding truth of Rafe's feelings had struck him head on.

The younger detective's voice continued to batter against Simon's bewildered mind.

"Yeah, I know, but I still love him, H. And it doesn't matter that he's straight."

His knees were shaking so badly Simon was positive his legs would soon give out. He braced himself against the cool tile wall and held on for dear life.

Christ Almighty, Rafe loves me.

The thought circled repeatedly in his mind, and Simon was helpless against the emotions it brought forth. Seconds rushed past with no reprieve, and finally, silent and unnoticed, he walked out of the men's bathroom, leaving the two partners to their private moment.

+++++++

Brian followed a minute after Henri. He was shaken but composed and was was almost to the door of the bullpen when he was stopped by a deep husky voice.

"Brian? Can I talk to you for a moment?" Simon stood in the doorway to the interrogation viewing room, his brown eyes dark with unspoken emotions.

Brian followed Simon inside and suspiciously watched him close the door. He skimmed a quick glance over Simon's large frame, taking a brief moment to appreciate the man's broad shoulders, narrow waist and long legs. He then stole a glance at his captain's features, and his eyes widened with disbelief. Simon's face was completely open, reflecting confusion, desire and -- Brian did a double take. Was that affection? Love?

Brian took a small step forward, but his heart balked and forced him to take two steps back. Fear of another rejection stopped him from reaching out. You only had to burn your fingers once to learn the lesson about touching the fire, and damn if Brian wasn't tired of getting his feelings singed.

Brian moved away, taking a stand near the two-way mirror as he silently waited for Simon to initiate the conversation.

Simon remained standing by the door with his hand still held out to his detective. He let his arm fall to his side the instant he saw Rafe retreat and his deep, wounding sigh flooded the silent room. Simon opened his mouth several times and attempted to force out the explanations Rafe needed to hear, to understand. He faltered several times before giving up.

Brian watched Simon walk towards him. "Simon? What's going on?" He could feel the man's intense body heat as he advanced closer, and his lungs locked down and refused to work when Simon lifted his hand and rested it upon his chest, no doubt feeling the thundering beat inside. Brian felt his knees go weak at the contact and was completely unaware of his hands reaching up to secure a fervent hold on Simon's arms.

"Simon? You're scaring me, man." Brian felt his heart slam heavily in his chest when Simon stroked the area over his heart.

"Brian, I . . . my job, my career, my family . . . I . . . ."

Brian raised his hand and caressed the side of the older man's face. "What are you trying to say, Simon?"

Simon closed his eyes and bowed his head, his forehead touching that of Rafe's while his heart rejoiced in the tender contact with a soft moan. He allowed the moment to lengthen into several minutes of a silent communication of emotions.

"Brian . . . ."

"I know," Brian said. "This," He brushed his thumb along Simon's lower lip, "this kind of loving is confusing to you. You're worried how a relationship with me will affect your life and your career."

Simon nodded his head slowly.

Brian pressed a fragile kiss to the dark skin revealed by Simon's open shirt. "It won't be easy, but I love you, Simon. We can make this work."

Simon captured Rafe's head with his hands, and sank his fingers into the silkiness of the man's thick brown hair. He pulled the younger man close, and his body reveled in the feel of maleness merging with maleness. Lowering his mouth ever so slowly, the warmth of his breath laying a trail for his lips to follow, he whispered his request, "Brian, can I kis--"

A sharp rap on the door and a strident voice shattered the heart-consuming moment, jolting the two men away from each other.

"Captain? You need to come see this." Henri cracked the door. "Sir? The Commissioner is outside."

Brian groaned as his body screamed in violent protest. He pressed hard against Simon, unable to disguise the physical evidence of his desire. A lament of total frustration rumbled through the bigger man's body while slightly trembling hands pulled roughly at him, dragging him as close as possible. Both men cursed aloud.

"Fuck."

"H, I'm gonna kill you."

The black detective was grabbed unceremoniously by the scruff of his neck and pushed out of the room. Sparing a final glance at Rafe over his shoulder, Simon propelled Henri back into the bullpen. "Too bad your yearly performance review isn't due until next year. That little interruption just might have . . . ."

Only half listening to Simon's threats against his partner, Brian fell back against the wall, his legs almost too weak to hold him upright. He grazed his hand down across his groin and tried to recapture Simon's presence. "Hallelujah. My prayers have been answered." Brian closed his eyes, and a telling smile brightened his face. Simon did care for him, wanted him, in fact. His grin turned wicked. Hell, a blind man couldn't miss the blatant evidence of Simon's attraction to him.

Brian readjusted his clothes and smoothed his hair before taking a deep breath that would hopefully settle his somersaulting emotions. Several breaths later, he admitted defeat, and with a sappy grin on his face, opened the door and stepped outside. His attention was instantly captured by the group surrounding the nearest TV monitor. At the front, stood Simon and the police commissioner.

Curiosity directed Brian to his partner's side. "What's going on, H?"

Henri clasped Brian on the shoulder and pulled him close. "Man, you are not gonna believe this." He pointed to the news broadcast.

Brian redirected his attention and listened to the report of an attack on two gay police officers in Seattle. Pictures of the men flashed on the screen, and Brian frowned, biting down hard on his bottom lip when it was announced that the policemen, one black and one white, had both been hospitalized with the younger one in critical condition.

Brian moaned silently as he turned to look at Simon. It didn't take a genius to realize the thoughts that were filtering through the older man's mind.

Dammit! No!

Pushing his way through the crowd of detectives, Brian reached out for Simon and desperately gripped the man's arm. Ignoring the startled stare thrown at him by the commissioner, Brian pulled Simon around to face him.

"Don't do this, Simon. I know what you're thinking. And you're wrong. Dead wrong." Brian watched in total dismay when Simon jerked his arm away and distanced himself both physically and emotionally. "Simon. For God's sake, please." Brian followed after Simon, totally unaware of the curious glances directed his way.

A gentle tug on his arm snapped his attention back to his surroundings. He discovered the commissioner standing beside him and glancing at him with concern.

"Detective? Care to tell me what's going on here?"

Brian dismissed the man, his gaze following the disappearance of his superior. Simon had moved quickly into his office shutting the door and closing the blinds, effectively distancing himself from everyone, including Brian.

Brian retreated to his desk and effectively shut down his partner's questions with a single look. His gaze remained centered on the door to Simon's office, and he watched as the commissioner went in and then exited a few minutes later. "Not now, H," Brian said brusquely, refusing all of Henri's attempts at conversation. He couldn't allow his attention to stray from the watch he had on Simon's office.

So focused was Brian that when the door finally opened and Simon stepped out, he was caught completely by surprise.

Simon bellowed, "H! Rafe! In my office, NOW!"

Grabbing his partner, Brian rushed the two of them into Simon's office and was utterly devastated when he caught sight of the closed off look on Simon's face. The desire and love that had been there only moments ago was now replaced by a look of solemn withdrawal. The older man avoided all eye contact, positioning himself behind his desk and out of Brian's reach.

Brian felt a suffocating anger settled down upon his heart, and he clenched his fists hard, allowing the pain of his nails digging into his flesh to deflect the curses that rose to his lips. "Simon, you just can't . . . ."

Simon ignored Brian and handed over two files. "This is your new assignment, effective immediately."

Henri opened the file given to him and glanced at the paperwork inside. "Awww, man. Not this. This is so damn . . . ."

"Is there a problem, detectives?" The tone of Simon's voice allowed absolutely no questioning of his order.

"Ah . . . no, Captain."

Brian felt Henri's gaze fall upon him, and he shook his head wordlessly, refusing to utter a protest. "We'll get right on it," his partner finally mumbled.

Brian stood staring at Simon, imploring him to say something, begging him to utter the words that would deny the emotions so evident in his face. Their eyes met and held for several seconds, with Simon's the first to fall away. A negative shake of his boss' head finalized the moment, and Brian swore he could hear his heart breaking.

"That'll be all, gentlemen." Simon moved around his desk and motioned the two detectives out of his office.

Brian turned to follow Henri but stopped short of the door, causing Simon to stumble against him. He closed the door and leaned back against the man's larger frame.

Simon let out a ragged sigh. Rafe fitted against him perfectly. "Brian."

The tension in the air rose when Rafe leaned his head back and rested it against Simon's shoulder, the move exposing his slender neck. Simon looked down and moaned when he felt himself harden instinctively. He placed his hand on Rafe's hip, wanting nothing more than to push away the younger man. Instead, he found himself caressing the area, and his touch brought forth the whisper of his name.

"Simon."

Feeling Simon tremble, Brian reached back and gripped the man's thigh. "Don't do this, Simon. Don't give up on us."

Brian felt rather than saw Simon's head recoil back and knew that the intimacy of the moment had launched the larger man into fleeing. He followed his boss to the windows and let his hand trespass into Simon's grasp. "Please." His entreaty questioned, begged, implored and invited.

Brian withdrew the simple contact after several minutes, its removal a sad witness to the total lack of response from Simon. The warmth that had embraced and enfolded Simon melted away, leaving in its wake an empty cold solitude.

"I love you, Simon." Brian let his words drift into the silence before he exited the office.

Brian missed the tears that escaped and dampened the dark planes of Simon's face, a testimony to the pain that was shattering the man's lonely heart. Simon stood with his head bowed, reaching out with his hand in a fruitless attempt to regain hold of the love that had been freely offered.

"Brian," Simon softly cried out. His utterance of need and desire came one second too late, and the sound fell into the void of aloneness.

+++++++

"FUCK!"

Henri slammed a stack of files down on his desk, toppling his coffee cup to the floor. "Damn it all to hell!"

He stared at his partner, who stood across from him. "If you don't say something to him, I will. I have had enough of this shit!" Henri hurled his chair back with such force it fell over with a loud crash, catching the attention of several nearby officers.

"It's been two weeks of solid shit, and I'm not standing for it any longer. Hell, Rafe, you and I have suffered silently through one dumbass detail after another. First it was that bogus stakeout." The black detective flipped the bird in direction of his Captain's office. "Then it was that fucking bodyguard assignment to that sniveling congressman."

Henri flung the broken remnants of his coffee cup in the trash, and the force of the throw bounced several pieces back out onto the floor. "And now our CAPTAIN wants to send us, highly trained detectives, down to the local school to lecture to first graders on gun safety! Shit! Any damn rookie can handle that job."

Henri glared at his partner. "This fucking hell has to stop now! I don't know what's going on between you and Simon, but it's starting to affect our partnership. I'll be damned if I stand by and allow him to dump on us just because he can't handle his feelings for you."

Moving to stand beside his partner, Henri clamped a hand down on Rafe's slender shoulder and forced his voice into a calmer tone. "You've got to talk to him, Rafe. The two of you have to solve this thing between you. It's hurting not only us but others, too. Simon has been a bear for the past month. He's even screamed at Blair."

Brian's deep breath shuddered out in a ragged sigh. "He's killing me, Henri. His total avoidance of me is . . . ." A small sob escaped him.

Henri rubbed Rafe's back. "I know, man. It's breaking your heart." The black detective patted his friend's arm. "It's time to settle the matter, Bri. You're almost to the breaking point. Mentally and physically." Henri touched a finger to Rafe's gaunt cheeks and asked, "How much weight have you lost? I know you're not eating, and from the dark circles under your eyes, I can tell you're not sleeping either."

Brian rubbed his hands over his face, the slight trembling of his fingers betraying the emotional and physical burden he was suffering with. For four weeks now he had watched the man he loved ignore his every word and every touch. Simon had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with him.

Brian looked over at his partner and witnessed the angry frustration that was still evident on his friend's face. This problem between him and Simon had now spilled over into the work place, destroying the easy camaraderie that existed amongst the detectives. Brian realized that Simon wasn't purposely lashing out at his officers. He sensed that his captain was running scared, frightened and confused by his emotions.

Brian looked over at Simon's office. He knew, somehow he knew, that the big man was struggling with the feelings he had for him. How else could he explain Simon's irrational behavior? And how many times had he caught Simon staring at him, his brooding gaze bearing down on him heavily, those dark eyes, grave and pensive, full of unspoken emotions.

"I'll go talk to him." Brian readjusted his gun holster as if readying a defense for his abused and broken heart.

Henri reached over and grasped his friend's hand, offering his support and understanding. "You need to decide this thing once and for all." A crooked grin was aimed at Rafe. "Hey! If Simon doesn't want you, I can fix you up with my cousin Larry. He has his very own Chinese restaurant." Henri leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially. "And he's downright sexy . . . like me!"

A small chuckle slipped out, easing the tension between partners. Gathering his courage, Brian inhaled deeply and then released the held breath slowly. Looking over his shoulder, he glanced across the noisy bullpen and noted the closed door and drawn shades of Simon's office. "Now's as good a time as ever."

Brian walked slowly across the room, unaware that Guiding eyes and Sentinel sight followed him. A gentle grab of his arm halted him, and Brian found Blair looking up at him with eyes full of compassion.

"We know what you're going through, Rafe. We're here for you, man."

Brian acknowledged the anthropologist with a simple nod, smiling sadly as he accepted the quiet concern and understanding of his friends. Moving forward, he knocked once on Simon's door and walked in the office, surprised to find Simon standing in semi-darkness. The large man was looking out his windows, watching the night's shadows descend over the city.

Brian moved to stand behind Simon, and his gaze lovingly wandered over the man's amazing physique. His arms ached with the need to hold Simon, and one hand betrayed his control and stroked a cautious path across the width of Simon's shoulders, pausing briefly to caress the dark, warm skin of his neck. The older man released a long, deep, jagged sigh, and Brian watched with dismay as the strong shoulders slumped and the noble head fall as if in defeated resignation. Wanting only to comfort, Brian leaned his forehead against Simon's back and gripped his waist.

"Simon, please," Brian whispered into the silence, his voice husky with emotion. He pressed a feather light kiss to the middle of the big man's back. "I . . . I need to know." Brian stepped closer and rested his head in the hollow between Simon's shoulders. "Will you ever be able to commit to me? To us?"

Simon pulled away and moved further into the darkness, hiding his face and shielding his eyes from the man who could see into his soul. Struggling to speak, to overcome the strangling tightness in his throat, he gestured wearily. "I can't. Rafe, I just can't. My career, my family . . . my son." Simon's large hands wrestled with the air, striving to communicate his feelings. "I'm just not ready."

Weeks of unrequited love and desire crashed down upon Brian, and its weight crushed his heart, allowing tattered emotions and threadbare nerves to explode in righteous anger. "GOD DAMMIT, SIMON! I can't take this anymore. Your indecision, your evasiveness, your confusion, it's more than I can deal with. You need to decide once and for all. Do you want to be with me? Do you want my love?"

The black man's eyes caught the light from an outside street lamp. "It's not that easy," Simon protested. "I have to . . . ."

Brian threw his arms out, rejecting Simon's words. "It is that fucking EASY! All you have to do is say . . . Yes, Rafe, I want to be with you. Say yes, Rafe, I want a relationship with you. Say yes, Rafe, I love you."

Simon's whisper of denial stole into the strained silence. "I can't. I want to, but I can't."

Brian grabbed one of Simon's coffee cups and threw it with all of his might. The ceramic missile sailed through the air and shattered against the wall next to Simon's head, its fragments peppering the man's neck and shoulders. "You are a GOD DAMN FUCKING COWARD!" Brian yelled as he moved to stand within inches of Simon. "You're afraid to admit that you have feelings for a gay man. You're afraid to admit that you want and desire me."

Brian slammed his fist against Simon's chest and knocked him against the wall. "You're so scared about being found out that you've started taking out your confusion and fear on me and my partner, not to mention the rest of the force."

Brian forced himself to back away, but his attempt to control his anger was unsuccessful, and without thinking, he hauled back and let fly a jab to Simon's jaw. "Well, Captain Simon Banks. I HAVE HAD IT! You've pushed me away one time too many."

He jerked open the door, and the blinding brightness from the bullpen stabbed cruelly into the office's gloom, momentarily blinding him. Taking another deep breath, Brian dropped his voice to a hoarse whisper, "I hope you enjoy being lonely, Simon, `cause that's what you're going to be if you continue to deny your heart."

With one last look, Brian hurled the door shut, and felt a slight sense of vindictiveness when its glass rattled ominously.

+++++++

Concerned blue eyes noted Rafe's abrupt departure, and it was a wise Shaman that propelled his Blessed Protector towards their friend's office.

"Simon?"

"Not now, Jim." A wave of dismissal was directed at the ex-Army Ranger.

"Don't let him leave, Simon."

"Jim . . . ."

Jim gripped Simon's shoulder. "Do you love him?"

Simon's hushed whisper was only loud enough for Sentinel hearing. "Yes."

Jim turned his friend around, and his eyes widened at the evidence of tears on Simon's face and the bruise spreading across his jawline. "Then what are you afraid of?"

Simon closed his eyes before brushing away the tears. "Everything. Everyone."

"Everyone? I think you can put that fear to rest. You're surrounded by friends and colleagues who love and respect you. I know that you and Rafe will receive the same support that Blair and I got when we came out."

Simon's eyes flew open wide. "Out? The two of you are out? Where in the hell was I?"

Jim chuckled and patted his friend on the back. "You've been so wrapped up in your emotions that you haven't even noticed. This whole incident with the Seattle gay bashing of cops and the subsequent IA investigation brought all of us out into the open."

Jim glanced at the older man. "And you know, Simon? Frankly, I don't know why I was so worried. It seems that everyone had already guessed that Blair and I were in a relationship."

Pulling Simon out of the darkened corner he was hiding in, Jim pushed him toward the door. "If you want him, Simon, go after him. Love is too precious to waste on bigotry and hate."

+++++++

Eyes flashing with determination, Simon charged out of the office but his steps faltered as he approached Rafe's empty desk. Henri sat nearby, slumped over, his head in his hands. At Simon's approach the detective looked up and his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

Simon touched Rafe's vacant chair, a frightful foreboding crushing his heart. "Brown? Where's Brian?"

Henri's voice was laced with fury. "You bastard! He's gone! Are you happy now? Do you even fucking care?" He stood up and shook his fist angrily at the man. "He loved you, you S.O.B.! He loved you with his whole heart, and you stomped on it." Henri moved to hit Simon but his swinging arm was caught and held by Blair. "You don't deserve his love, you fucking piece of shit!"

Simon refused to acknowledge Henri's words, and his breath caught and held when his heart shuddered to a complete stop at the sight of the badge and gun Henri was holding in his hands. It didn't take a genius to realize it was Rafe's badge and gun.

Henri threw the items at Simon. "Rafe is gone, and he's NOT coming back."

Simon felt his legs go out from underneath him, and it was Jim who kept him from falling on his ass.

"Dear God in heaven! What have I done?"

+++++++

The solid weight of a hand gripped Henri's shoulder a second before several folders landed on the desk before him.

"Here. That's it. I'm finished." Brian tightened his hold on his partner's shoulder before looking around the room and taking note of the empty desks and the shadows that were invading the deserted bullpen.

He released Henri and moved to stand outside the door to Simon's office, resting his hand on the cold glass pane and staring through the darkness at the reality of his future. A future of loneliness, a future without the love of the man he desired with all his heart. He traced the lettering on the glass, his fingers caressing the name as he whispered his final good-bye.

Brian turned and gazed at the three men who stood behind him, Jim, Blair and Henri. Without a word, he lifted his arms and embraced his friends, hiding his tears in their understanding hugs. A moment later he stepped back and wiped his hand over his face, his grin a mockery of the sadness that defined the moment.

"Never was any good at good-byes," he admitted.

Blair was the first to move forward and shake hands with him, offering words of comfort and encouragement. Jim remained silent but his handshake was firm and long, and his blue eyes offered a message of eternal brotherhood that Brian took to heart

Turning toward his partner, Brian reached out for one last hug, chuckling as he rubbed Henri's bald head. "For luck, my friend. For luck." He then gathered his trench coat and shouldered into it, collecting the last of his personal effects before turning back to his friends. "You guys have been the best. I hope you know how much I appreciate all you've done for me this past week."

He slapped Henri on the arm. "And don't think I didn't notice the three of you running interference for me. I don't think I would have made it with Simon constantly in my face. Thanks."

The three men escorted Brian to the elevators and rode down with him to the parking garage. Final handshakes and hugs were exchanged, and Brian was sliding into his car when Blair took hold of his arm.

"We expect to see you at our New Year's Eve party, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Blair. I don't think I . . . ."

The young anthropologist turned on his world famous smile, daring Brian to reject his invitation. "Look, Rafe. It may be the last time we're all together. Please come."

Brian caved immediately. "Okay. I'll try to be there."

Blair nodded and the genuine friendship he felt for Rafe shined brightly in his eyes. "I know it's hard, man, but don't give up. Simon may still come around."

Brian shook his head. "I don't think so. It's been a whole month, and not one single word from him. I can't deal with it any longer." Rolling down his window, Brian then shut the door. "It's time for a clean break, Blair. I need to get on with my life and quit wishing for something that will never be."

Blair tapped Brian on the shoulder. "We're here for you, Rafe. The door to the loft will always be open for you."

"Thanks, Blair." Waving one last time to his friends, Brian started up his car and steered out of the parking garage. He stopped before turning onto the street and glanced up at the darkened office windows above him.

His voice broke as emotions strangled his words. "Good-bye, Simon. Be . . . be happy."

+++++++

Empty.

That was the perfect word to describe the past few weeks. Rafe's absence from the bullpen tugged at Simon's heart and made him feel . . . empty, absolutely devoid of any hope for happiness. There would be no more timid smiles, no more friendly conversations, no more subtle touches, no more loving looks. All those 'no-mores' stabbed painfully deep into his lonely heart, leaving behind a wound that refused to heal.

Simon closed the case file he was working on and threw it in a drawer. It was useless. He couldn't concentrate on anything. His mind wandered off, reliving memories of the past instead of dealing with the reality of the present.

How long before this behavior started affecting his job, before someone took notice that he was just going through the motions? How long before he lost the last thing holding him together, keeping him sane . . . his job.

Simon lowered his head into his hands and sighed wearily. His job. The very excuse that Simon had hid behind was now responsible for him losing a fine detective, a good friend and . . . the man he loved.

Simon banged his fists against his head, his heart demanding that his brain acknowledge the truth. Yes, you idiot. LOVE! Admit it, you old fool. You love Brian Rafe! Quit kidding yourself. You want to wrap your arms around that man and lose yourself in the heat of his love.

Simon berated himself harshly. He had been absolutely blind, giving in to his insecurities and fears, so handicapped by his own anxieties that it had taken the loss of Rafe to make him realize how integral a part of his life the man had become. Simon felt like a piece of his soul had been ripped from him. There was this heart-wrenching emptiness inside him, and it threatened to swallow his whole being.

A knock at the door startled him out of his reverie. Taggart peered inside the office.

"Captain? Just to let you know, we're getting ready to leave for Jim and Blair's New Year's Eve party."

Party? Damn! Was it December 31st already? His emotions and thoughts had been so tangled up in the loss of Rafe, that he hadn't even noticed the passage of time. His friends' party was tonight, but unfortunately, he was in no mood to celebrate. "You go ahead without me."

"Sir? I thought you were going to be there, too."

Simon waved the older detective away. "I'll be there later. Have to finish this."

Acknowledging the brush off, Taggart shook his head and turned to leave. "Okay, Simon. We'll see you later. Just make sure you get there this year."

Taggart pretended not to notice that Simon's desk was completely bare, no files, no paperwork in sight. He felt bad for his friend, but he knew Simon would not appreciate any advice at this moment.

+++++++

Shortly before midnight, Simon arrived at the loft. He remained in his car, debating the wisdom of joining the revelers. All he wanted to do was go home to his empty house, and once again spend a lonely night hiding in his memories of Rafe. Instead, he sat there listening to the cheerful music spilling down from the loft.

Making the decision to rejoin the living for this one night, Simon hauled his weary body out of his car. The noise of a celebration in full swing greeted him as he exited the elevator and a small smile graced his sober features. Blair sure knew how to throw a party.

Simon knocked on the door to the loft, even though it stood open, welcoming him into a gathering of laughing and dancing people. Unlike him, they all looked so damn happy, and it hit him hard. Heaving a weary sigh, he buried his misery deep within his heart and forced a smile before entering the loft.

Jim joined him at the doorway immediately, offering him a drink. "Hey, Simon! Glad you made it. I was beginning to worry about you."

"I had . . . stuff to finish." Simon looked around, his intense gaze searching the faces, unconsciously hoping to see a familiar pair of dark brown eyes smiling at him. He grunted with frustration when his survey of the room came up empty.

Jim demonstrated his understanding with a pat to his captain's back. "You can put your coat in there." He indicated Blair's old room. "Then come join the fun."

Watching Simon make his way to the small room, Blair walked over to his smiling mate and slapped a party hat on his head. "Are you mad? Why did you send him in there? You know who's in . . . ."

Jim scattered tender kisses over the younger man's upturned face, thorougly distracting him from noticing the party hat's removal and discard. "Blair, I think it's time they faced each other and resolved this thing."

Blair turned worried eyes toward Simon's retreating back. "Yeah, but not here, not now."

Taking his lover firmly in his arms, Jim started slow dancing them back towards the living room. "What better place than amongst friends? Friends who care deeply for them both."

"You know ou're pretty smart for a cop." Blair chuckled and laid his head on Jim's shoulder. Tonight was turning out to be a perfect evening, and he could only hope the same for Simon and Rafe.

+++++++

Entering the poorly lit room, Simon instantly noticed the presence of someone standing in the dark, looking out the window. He was about to address the person when the man turned around.

It was Rafe.

Simon's heart hit the floor, the pain, his sadness all forgotten in the instant his eyes beheld the man he loved. He allowed his gaze to roam over every inch of Rafe's form, and his body tingled with an unforgiving need. Tumbled strands of dark chocolate hair fell across a pair of pensive eyes, and Simon felt his own gaze captured and held, unspoken thoughts and emotions falling into the silence that stretched between them.

The two men stood, frozen in time, their eyes devouring each other. They looked totally miserable, haggard and defeated -- both yearning for something that was right in front of them, yet at the same time was still miles away.

Brian was the first to look away, fresh tears threatening to spill over onto his pale cheeks. He unconsciously reached for Simon, his heart searching for the mate that would complete his life. The past week had been the hardest he had ever had to endure, an emotional hell from which he did not think he could survive. No contact with and no glimpses of Simon had revealed to Brian just how much he cared for the older man.

His life was now just a lonely existence, a daily vacuum and his nights, his dreams tortured his soul. Visions of Simon's larger body blanketing his left him physically exhausted every morning. His body ached with unfulfilled desires, every fiber of his being crying for a union that would never be. Even now his body responded to Simon's presence, a familiar tightening in his groin, an insatiable flame that ate away at his sanity.

His voice rough and quiet, Brian pleaded softly, and his first words were hampered by emotions. "Please. Go . . . go away Simon. I don't want . . . ." Brain let out a heavy sigh and straightened his slumped shoulders. "If you've come here to tell me again why we can't be lovers, forget it. There's nothing more to say."

Brian moved further away, and his hands tightened into fists. "I've heard it all one time too many."

Simon hesitated. Rafe's words had wounded him deeply. And yes, he deserved anything Rafe could throw at him, but he would not retreat. The man he loved was suffering, and it was all because of him. A new fear slammed into his brain, overwhelming him. Suddenly he was scared, not of what people might say or think but of losing his last chance at love.

Taking a deep breath, Simon moved closer to Rafe, his soul offering his heart to the younger man. He gently placed both his hands on Rafe's shoulders, turning him around and embracing him. Desperate, he held on tight and Rafe's struggles for freedom only made Simon clutch him tighter.

"No. Please, Brian."

Realizing the futility of his protest, Brian surrendered and stood there within Simon's embrace, his head turned away, his face hidden.

Simon pressed his lips against the velvety softness of Rafe's hair. "Please forgive me, Brian. I am such a damn fool. A total idiot. I foolishly allowed the insecurities and fears of my mind to dictate my actions, never once listening to the truth of my heart." Simon tenderly wiped away the traces of Rafe's tears. "I will get down on my knees if you want. I will beg. I will plead. Just please don't give up on me. Don't give up on our love."

Simon lifted Rafe's face, staring into the wide, dark eyes looking back at him. He slowly lowered his head and gave his mouth to the silent man. "I love you, Brian. Please share your life with me. Give me another chance. Please."

Soft wet kisses smoothed across Brian's lips, promising him a future he thought would never be his, and he shuddered when Simon's large hand framed his face and brushed his thumbs over his stubbled cheeks.

Brian allowed himself a moment of pleasure, a second to realize the possible fulfillment of a dream. Opening his mouth, he savored Simon's dark flavor, losing himself in the soft warmth of his kisses. He gripped and twisted the crisp cotton of the older man's shirt, his fingers discovering the hidden peaks of Simon's nipples. When his exploring hands witnessed the vibrations of a husky groan, Brian inhaled sharply. "Simon."

Pulling the larger man closer, Brian slipped his arms around Simon and slid his knee between the man's trembling legs. He rejoiced in the press of hard male flesh for a brief moment before slowly releasing his hold on Simon and stepping back.

"Are you absolutely sure about this Simon? I will not allow myself to be hurt and rejected again."

Outside the partygoers could be heard shouting as the countdown for the New Year began. Simon looked at Rafe and smiled, his eyes full of promise and love. He sank to his knees and circled the man's trim waist. Laying his head against Brian's abdomen, Simon offered his heart to the man who had already claimed it.

"Happy New Year, Brian." Simon dropped his voice to a humble whisper and begged for a love he knew he had to have. "Will you please let me love you for the next millennium?

Brain tilted up Simon's face and softly kissed his lips. His eyes examined the dark depths of Simon's gaze, searching and finding the truth, seeing the love that would unite their hearts and their souls. He touched his lips again to Simon's mouth and savored the heat that was now offered freely, without the restraint of insecurities or fear.

"Instead of a millennium, could you make that forever, Simon?"

End Love Too Precious by Angelise: ldcldc@earthlink.net
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