author's notes: i thought i was finished with this storyline when i posted 'Understand Me', but the guys had other ideas...there are just so many things they still need to work out (g) so this is the sequel to "Understand Me". it might be fun to read without the first one, but it won't make as much sense :)

NC-17, M/M sex - if you're a congressman or under 18!!!!!!!DO NOT READ THIS!!!!!!!

a brief lapse into Hootie&the Blowfish. Forgive me, but, hey, I *like* them. And they *are* gay...a piece from Nazareth, "this flight tonight". It's music that crosses generations...at least in my house, now that my son has raided all my old tapes. (he's off to a good start!) And "Mony, Mony" - I have no idea who wrote it or sang it first, but here it's Billy Idol.

this is mostly an exploration of Blair&Jim's new relationship. of course, everything isn't smooth sailing...

many thanks to those of you who wrote to tell me how much you liked the first story. as for the ones that didn't...if i don't get feedback, i don't write. if i wanted to be ignored i'd concentrate on commercial stories, not fanfic. of course, fanfic is often more fun than stuff i'm trying to sell .....anyone out there an agent?

I had this beta'd - it was my first time and everyone was great. i need to officially thank Yvonne, Lucy, Nora, Holly, and Katrina. (yeah, it was that bad, it needed *all* of them :)

This Flight Tonight

"Hey, Jim."

The quiet voice brought Jim out of his doze. Blair had set the alarm an hour early without telling him and then made it up to him in the most satisfying way.

"Yeah, Chief?" he hugged the smaller man closer to him.

"Look. I know we agreed to keep this private -- and I still think that's a good idea. You don't need that kind of hassle at work. But I was thinking...we haven't been spending any time together outside of work and home."

Jim half-sat on his piled pillows, looking down at his lover. Blair just snuggled closer, not upset, just thoughtful as they lay wrapped in each other's arms.

"We've been working pretty hard."

"Uh-huh." Blair turned his head and kissed Jim's chest, leaving his lips pressed to the skin for a few seconds.

"There hasn't been much time to go out."

"I know." now Blair was teasing one nipple with the tip of his tongue, touching so delicately Jim turned that sense up to feel it better. Blair had quickly learned to manipulate his sensitivity.

"We should have some time this weekend. If you want to do something."

"But then the question becomes; where do we go?" Jim caught his breath as Blair nipped suddenly. With that sense up so high it felt like he'd bitten a huge hole. He tightened his arms around Blair and pulled him up, his head away from the chest he was intent on torturing.

"Why do you *do* that?"

"'Cause you love it." Blair opened his eyes, mischief dancing in them. Jim growled low and covered his mouth, tongue invading. A welcome invasion, Blair softening and yielding to him.

"I love everything you do, Baby." he breathed when they broke apart.

"You're not too fond of some of the food I get you to try. Or the clubs I go to. And I don't think you much like the music I listen to..." the list of things Blair liked and Jim didn't was cut off by another kiss.

"But we both like movies...and eating out...drinking beer and playing pool..." Jim continued for him.

"I suggest a compromise."

"Blair Sandburg, Diplomat. You should work for the U.N." Jim teased affectionately.

"We can trade off. This weekend we'll do what you want...and the next time we have free time we'll do what I want."

"We'll never get out of the house that way."

Blair chuckled.

"It has to be something besides staying in." he grinned. "Hey. My first rule."

"Okay. But I get a condition." Jim saw Blair's eyes widen and drew out the pause.

"And....?"

"You are always *so* eager. Ow!" Jim retorted, then winced as Blair bit his shoulder. "Hey, I'm going to feed you."

"You already did."

The low, intimate tone made Jim pull him closer.

"Food, Baby. *Food*." he caught Blair's teasing hand in his and tried to get the conversation back on track. "Okay. My new rule -"

"Number 496. I do keep track, you know."

Jim ignored the comment, briefly kissing the back of the hand he held. " - Is that the other one has to at least *try* to enjoy it."

"I always enjoy it, Jim."

"The night out, Baby." Jim gave in and slid down the bed, pulling Blair on top of him. "Okay?"

"Deal." Blair breathed the word across his ear as Jim stroked his ass, fingers trailing into the crack lightly, making him shiver. "Jim..."

"What?"

"I turned off the alarm."

"Good boy."

Blair bit him again.

They didn't get breakfast, because they didn't even look at the clock.

"So, why is this important?" Jim questioned Simon with disbelief.

"It wouldn't be if it hadn't been the mayor's wife." the captain shook his head.

"This kid just speeds up to her on the street on rollerblades -- right past a bodyguard -- slaps a sticker on her and takes off before the guy can catch him." Blair tried to smother a grin.

"He put the sticker on her breast, Sandburg. And the mayor is not happy that she was embarrassed that way."

"Did it hurt her clothes?" Simon opened his mouth to snap, but then closed it, seeing the thoughtfulness in Blair's eyes.

"It was a plain yellow sticker -- the kind you use to label a computer disk or something. Nothing written on it,and she wasn't wearing fur or anything like that in this weather." he saw where Blair was going.

Jim shrugged.

"I still don't see how this qualifies as a major crime."

"It's not, really." Simon agreed. "But it is becoming a pattern." he slid the file over to them. "There have been three similar complaints in the last six weeks. Different descriptions of the kids, a girl once. They just run up to someone on the street and slap a blank label on them."

"Sounds almost political." Blair said.

"It could be that. Or something else. Thing is, Mayor Patterson wants my best team on it. And, like it or not, that's you two."

Jim groaned.

"We'll get on it." Blair said, grabbing the file and Jim's arm, steering him out of the office.

Nobody in the office noticed anything different. Just Ellison and his hippie partner. But Jim could smell Blair's light sweat and the pheremones he was putting off and hear his heartbeat, a little fast. When they sat at his desk he spoke quietly.

"You okay, Chief?"

"Hmm? Oh." Blair put down the book he'd picked up. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking...um, about this morning."

"Just thinking about it got you going, huh?" Jim was grinning, just a little.

"Well, what can I say, it's true love." Blair's smile lit up the room.

"You just keep thinking about it and I'll do it again tonight." Jim made it sound like a threat.

"Promises, promises..."

They spent the day questioning witnesses, spinning their wheels. Dropping by the station to pick up some paperwork Jim needed to finish on another case, Mike McCurdy came by. He gave them a sideways look. Jim caught his eye and watched as he walked past without saying anything.

"Chief? Did I say anything to piss him off lately? He's been real unfriendly."

"Uhhh...I think that's my fault, Jim."

"What did you do?" Jim asked carefully.

"He found me kindof out-of-it in the bathroom... when I was having that trouble. I was rude to him, too."

"Well." Jim said aloud. "That explains it."

"Yeah. Sorry." Blair was subdued as they walked out. The ripple effects of his little breakdown were still reaching them.

"It's okay, Baby." in the privacy of the truck Jim reached over and rubbed his leg, the heat of his hand burning through the worn denim. "Makes me wonder, though."

"About what?" Blair lay his head back, eyes closed, enjoying the sensations Jim's hand was awakening.

"If we're as in the closet as we think we are."

"I'm trying to act the same as always." Blair opened his eyes and looked at Jim, who was concentrating through rush hour traffic.

"Maybe we don't have to act differently. Maybe people can just tell." Jim shrugged.

Blair covered Jim's stroking hand with his own, stilling it so he could think.

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Not really. Not as much as it should?" Jim questioned himself. "Maybe I'm ready to tell people. I don't want to hide what I feel for you."

"I don't want to hide either." Blair said softly. "But guys can be ruthless, Jim. You've seen it. Particularly guys in traditionally male fields like police work. I read this study once..."

Jim squeezed his hand and listened, knowing that it was how Blair dealt with things, through studies and facts and reports.

"Oh, gods, Jim, I don't think I'll ever move again." Blair complained with a groan. Jim sat up, taking a few minutes to admire his young lover as he lay still where he'd fallen, flat on his stomach, his only movement the rapid rise and fall of his back as he panted.

Jim stretched out on his own stomach beside him, brushing long curls back from his Blair's sweaty forehead.

"You know, Chief, there are other ways to do this."

"Huh?" Blair opened his eyes, but he couldn't see anything in the dark, so he closed them again, feeling Jim watching him.

"I'm saying that you can lead this dance sometimes - if you want to."

He clearly saw the shiver that ran through the compact body.

"I...I never thought you'd want to do that." Blair mumbled, sounding stunned. "I mean, you were straight before you...before we..."

"Before I fell in love with you." Jim let his fingers trail over Blair's head, grinning when the younger man followed the hand with his head, rubbing against it like a cat. He gave in and rubbed, strong fingers massaging the scalp.

"Ohh. Yeah." Blair sighed. "What you said."

"Did you think I was always going to be on top?"

"I don't mind. If that's what you want." Blair answered softly, still rubbing his head against Jim's big hand, almost purring with contentment.

"It doesn't feel fair, Baby, and I like to be fair."

"It's okay, Jim." Blair was a little more insistent now.

"It doesn't feel okay. Unless you don't want to..." Jim stopped his motion and Blair sighed, turning over to open his eyes, blind now but knowing that Jim could see into them.

"No, I *love* being top. But I don't need it to be happy or fulfilled. It's just a big step, Jim. It can really mess with your self-image."

"I think my ego can handle it." Jim grinned, reaching to pull Blair close. Blair snuggled in, arms curled up, letting Jim hold him and stroke his hair, legs twined together.

"Okay, if you're sure. We can try it any time you want." he said, then yawned. "But not tonight, man. I've got to go in early tomorrow to get ready for advising, and I want to be wide awake the first time we do that."

"Yeah." Jim kissed the top of his head, hearing Blair's breathing slow. "I love you, Blair."

"Love you too, Jim." he got a sleepy response.

"Hey, Ellison. We're headed for Barney's, grab a few beers. You guys want to come?"

Jim looked up from the paperwork he was crouched over, saw Harry Bowman from Vice standing in front of the desk. Blair shook his head minutely.

"That sounds good." Jim stood and grabbed his jacket with one hand, stuffing papers into the desk with the other. Blair looked at him with dismay.

"Barney's?"

"We're supposed to go out tonight, right?" Jim asked, leaning close so no one would overhear.

"Yes...."

"And it's my turn to pick what we do?"

"Yesss..."

"And you have to at least try to enjoy it...?"

"Yessssss..." Blair sighed, defeated. "Does that mean I can get blitzed?"

"If that's what it takes." Jim smiled at him as Blair reluctantly followed him out.

Barney's was a smoke-filled bar, old-fashioned, with pool tables and pitcher beer. When they got there a group of cops had already laid claim to a large table between the dance floor and pool area, and they all greeted Jim and Blair with shouts of varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Ellison! We thought you'd died, man! Where ya been?"

"Hey, look. He brought hair-boy!"

"It's Jim and his shadow. Somebody get that man a beer!"

They sat, Blair nervously, uncomfortable with these men..he knew what most of them really thought of him. Somebody shoved a beer into his hand and he drank automatically, needing the calm that a buzz would bring. Beside him Jim grinned and traded quips with others, got introduced to a new guy, and drank his beer. Blair saw that he was having fun, and that made it okay. He determined to find a way to have some himself.

"No, it's like this..." Blair sat back and thought briefly, then proceeded to explain the rules to Klingon *K'Zhhaht*, a popular college drinking game. The eight cops still sitting at the table were intrigued and soon knew the rules well enough to play, though Blair was the leader by far.

He was distracted by Jim bending over at the pool table and missed his next turn. As he downed the neon green jello shot he grinned stupidly, saw Jim straighten and turn his head, giving him a smile. Blair grinned back.

He bowed out of the next round, needing a break.

Wandering across the room to the bathroom, his eye was caught by another guy...taller than he was, but not as tall as Jim, with long dark hair loose past his shoulders, wearing ripped jeans and a t-shirt. The dark eyes met his as he passed and the man smiled suggestively. Blair grinned back, seeing the offer, and shook his head, which made him dizzy, which made him laugh at himself as he stumbled.

"Hey." the guy caught his arm, steadied him until he regained his balance. "What's your name?"

"Blair." Blair grinned at him, remembering the flush of the chase, seeing it in this man's eyes. "What's yours?"

"Christopher." he was good-looking, almost pretty.

Attuned to it, Blair felt Jim's eyes on him, turned to see him watching them. He smiled to show that everything was okay and Jim grinned back, shaking his head 'no'.

"Sorry...gotta go, man." Blair pulled free of the now loose grip and Christopher followed his look across the room.

"Oh...hey, I understand. Maybe later, man?"

"Maybe." Blair continued to the bathroom. When he came back out Christopher was gone.

When he got back to the cops Jim came over and backed him to the wall, not touching, just being intimidating. Blair had to curl his hands into fists on his legs to resist touching him, he was so sexy when he got this way.

"Who was he?" Jim asked, leaning over him on one arm.

"Some guy. I think he likes me." Blair answered, not needing to shout over the music because Jim could hear him.

"Okay. Do whatever you want but remember you're coming home with me." with that Jim cuffed his head lightly and went back to the pool game.

Blair shook his head and went back to the drinking game.

An hour later the guy across the table from him looked up and snickered.

"Hey, professor, I think you've got an admirer."

The other men looked and a couple of them laughed, not being mean, just teasing him - he hoped - as he turned.

Christopher came up, holding out a beer bottle.

"Hey, Blair. Wanna dance?" he took a swig out of his own bottle as he waited for an answer, obviously uncomfortable, glancing at the guns, some worn very obviously.

Blair glanced at Jim, who was still playing pool - and winning - and stood, grinning recklessly. He leaned over to whisper in Christopher's ear.

"All I can do is dance with you, man."

"S'okay." the man smiled. "My girlfriend would kill me anyhow." he gave Blair a long up-and-down appraisal. "But it might be worth it."

Blair blushed slightly as the guys at the table hooted and whistled, but let Christopher lead him onto the dance floor.

Jim was lining up a shot when he heard Mike's voice, near him.

"Shit. Look at Sandburg."

Jim did, and saw his friend, partner, lover on the dance floor, moving loosely to the music, the man he'd spoken to earlier in front of him. The music was a driving rock song and they weren't really dancing with each other, just dancing. He took a minute to enjoy the sight, and then went back to his game.

The song ended and another came on, one Jim actually recognized. Game over, he leaned back against the wall and watched Blair on the dance floor, not listening to the song, sighing happily because it fit what he was feeling so well.

Everytime I look at you I go blind...
Everytime I look at you I go blind...

Blair had his arms raised just above shoulder-level, outstretched, one hand swinging the beer bottle, head thrown back, laughing as Christopher danced closer until there was about a foot between them, and they both rocked and gyrated, Christopher's long hair swinging wildly, Blair's flying around his face as he gave himself over to the music, swaying fluidly.

Everytime I look at you I go blind...
Everytime I look at you I go blind...

Blair's face was radiant, Jim would have sworn he was glowing.

"Ellison. What's your partner doing?" the new guy came over. Jim could tell by the smell that he hadn't been drinking as much as the others.

"Dancing?"

"With a *guy*?"

"Why not?" Jim shrugged. He saw Mike looking from the dance floor to him and back and shrugged again, mentally this time. "You got a problem with that?"

The man backed off, going back to the table, to report what he'd said, Jim was sure.

Hold me, hold me 'cause I wanna get higher and higher
Hold me, hold me 'cause I wanna get higher and higher

Jim remained on the wall, drinking and watching Blair. He was too drunk to get excited, which was good, but he was staring at his partner in public, which probably wasn't.

*So what. Who cares what they think.* he told himself whenever the voice of reason surfaced from the vat of alcohol it was swimming in. *He looks great and I'm gonna watch him. Then tonight I'm gonna...* he grinned as he planned a suitable revenge - or was it reward? - for Blair's behavior.

Every time I look at you I go blind
Hold me, hold me 'cause I wanna get higher and higher
Every time I look at you I go blind
Hold me, hold me 'cause I wanna get higher and higher

They left over an hour later, when Christopher had to take off. Blair introduced him to Jim, who smiled and shook his hand, and then practically dragged Blair out of there.

"God, Chief." he swore when they got into the truck, parked at the back of the lot.

"Haven't we had too much to drink, Jim....?" Blair asked, but the question was abandoned when Jim slammed the driver side door, then pushed him back on the seat and began shoving his shirt off his shoulders, kissing him hungrily, forcefully, tongue invading the sweet mouth that opened to him.

"Jim!" Blair's grunt of surprise was muffled and then he didn't care anymore.

"You looked so good in there...it was all I could do not to throw you on the floor and fuck you senseless..." Jim lowered his head to Blair's neck and Blair tilted his head back, offering it to him, eyes closed, panting. Jim wrapped his tongue around the biggest earring and tugged and Blair groaned.

Then Jim sat back up and pulled away and Blair groaned again, louder.

"Jim!" he wailed.

"I'm not going to do this out here, where everyone can see us." Jim smiled, his eyes teasing. He put the keys in. "I stopped drinking as soon as you started dancing -- I've only got so much control, you know. So, yeah, I can drive."

Blair slumped back. He knew Jim wouldn't drive if he shouldn't, but he *really* didn't want to go anywhere just now. He leaned over and began to unzip Jim's jeans while they pulled out.

He had Jim's cock free by the time they were on the highway and in his mouth a heartbeat later.

"Shit!" Jim stomped on the gas, dropping one hand to Blair's head, intending to pull him away, but pushing him closer instead. "Chief, what are you *doing*? Trying to kill us?" his hips jerked as Blair took him all the way in, the sensation of warmth and wetness almost unbearable.

Blair took his mouth away long enough to wink at him and issue a challenge.

"If you want to live you better get us home before I finish."

"Oh god, we're gonna die..." Jim muttered, his foot was heavy on the gas peddle.

Miraculously, they made it home in one piece.

"There's nothing here, Simon." Jim complained. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes off Sandburg, who was sitting on the table, legs spread wide, hands flat on his thighs, teasing him.

"Patterson wants you to find something." Simon said firmly. "I have to tell him something."

"We got fingerprints." Blair spoke up. He didn't want Jim pissed off.

"But there are no matches in the computer." Jim added.

"Did you run federal?"

"Of course. It won't be back for a few more days, but you know we're not going to get anything. We're talking about kids here, Simon. They aren't felons or 'most wanted'." Jim twitched when he heard Blair whisper, too soft for even Simon to hear.

"You're my most wanted."

"I know. Just keep trying." Simon sat down and studied the two of them. "There's something else we need to discuss."

Jim took a seat, scrupulously keeping his hands as far away from Blair as he could, and met Simon's eyes. They were dark and worried.

"What is it?" Jim was relaxed and calm. He thought he had an idea what was coming.

"I've heard some rumors." Simon glanced from one to the other. Jim was calm. Blair opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. Simon held up one hand up, the other under his chin, leaning on it. "I don't want denial or confirmation. I just wanted to tell you that people are talking."

"That's what people do, Simon." Jim said.

"Look, Ellison. Officially I feel required to say something about this. To point out how bad this could be for your career, to remind you of the kinds of problems this can cause in a 'closed society' like ours." Simon gave Blair a meaningful glance as he used Blair's phrase. "Now, *I* know the real reason Sandburg is here. The whole Sentinel-Guide thing. That may play a part in this and it may not. I don't care. I just wanted to warn you."

Blair spoke hesitantly.

"And unofficially?"

Simon smiled suddenly.

"Unofficially I'm happy for both of you. I sure didn't see it coming, though."

"Neither did I." Jim shook his head with a smile, turning to look at Blair. Blair just grinned a little, but Jim thought he looked nervous. He was vibrating more than usual.

"If you get any slack you bring it to me. *Don't* deal with it yourself, Jim."

"You want to come to dinner next Friday?" Blair asked suddenly. "I'll cook."

"As long as you're cooking. That would be good, Sandburg." Simon smiled his appreciation while Jim processed the slur.

"Hey!"

There were two more cases of skate-by stickings that week. Blair had coined the phrase one night in bed, drifting sleepily while Jim went over things aloud, trying to come up with a new angle. Jim was so amused by the phrase that he woke Blair up to show him how much he liked it.

Things were good between them, but the same. Jim had more or less offered to let Blair take him, but Blair hadn't shown any inclination to do so, even when Jim got a bit blatant, spooning inside Blair's arms, pushing his ass against him, showing his willingness. But every time he did Blair found something to distract him and things never got that far.

"This reminds me of something, Jim." Blair looked up from the latest report. Jim was discussing another case with Allan Durndle, a real case, a murder. He was tired of working on what he termed 'that stupid case'.

"Hmm? You say something, Baby?" Distracted, Jim answered him and Blair saw Allan's eyes go wide. Blair ducked his head, staring at the file, feeling his face go hot.

"Uh...thanks for your help, Jim. You ask Simon if you can take it..." Allan found something else to do right away, and Blair slumped forward on his desk with a quiet groan as he hurried out of the room.

"Shit."

Jim stared after Allan and then shrugged. Just once, slowly.

"It had to happen eventually."

"You had to call me *Baby* at the station? You think that was inevitable?" Blair's head came up and he snapped.

"I'm sorry." Jim met his eyes and there was a brief exchange of information.

Jim's eyes told Blair that he was sorry and more than a little embarrassed, but that he loved him enough to deal with it.

Blair's eyes told Jim that he was forgiven, he hoped it wasn't going to be too bad, and he really did love him.

"That's okay." Blair sighed.

"Look, it's almost five. Let's go home and have some dinner and then try to catch this waitress when she leaves work." Jim referred to their latest witness.

"Good idea." Blair didn't say how much he wanted to get out of there. He could feel eyes on them, on him. Allan must have projected Jim's words telepathically, because it seemed that everyone knew them within five minutes.

In the truck Blair waited until they were out of the parking lot and away from the station, and then he leaned over, head on Jim's shoulder, with a sigh that Jim echoed, taking one hand off the steering wheel and wrapping the arm around the smaller man's shoulders.

"I'm really sorry." Blair said.

"You didn't do anything."

"You know, it's okay if you want to pull back, give us some room. So the guys won't be so hard on you."

"Do you want to?" Blair looked up at Jim, saw the worry creasing his face.

Blair shrugged.

"I can handle it."

"Well, I don't want you to have to."

"I'm used to it, Jim. It's something I've had to face before."

"I used to wonder why anyone would choose a lifestyle that made people hate them..." Jim was musing. "Then I met you and fell in love with you, and now I understand."

Blair just looked at him, waiting for him to finish.

"Because it hurts less to have people hate me than it would to live without you." they stopped at a light and Jim turned to kiss him.

"You have such a way with words." Blair sighed when the light changed and they broke apart. "So what were you talking to Allan about?"

"A case I think we should take a look at. Allan thinks it was just a random thing, but I've always thought burning was automatically a hate crime."

"Burning?" Blair winced. They were pulling into the parking garage. "Did the victim survive?"

Jim shook his head, climbing out.

"I think Allen has a blind spot on this one. The victim spent the evening at a gay bar before he was attacked."

Blair winced.

"I'm not insulting the man, but I get the feeling he's *really* uncomfortable with that."

"So he's ignoring that aspect of the case?"

"I think so. I'm going to ask Simon if we can take a look at it tomorrow."

"That would be like making an announcement, Jim."

"I told you I'm ready to."

There wasn't much Blair could say in the face of Jim's quiet conviction. So he just accepted it with a quick kiss.

They climbed the stairs to the loft in comfortable silence, both caught up in their own thoughts. Jim smiled to himself as Blair went into the kitchen to start dinner.

"Chili okay?" Blair asked, very quietly. "I'll make some cornbread to go with it."

"That would be great, Chief." Jim puttered around while Blair cooked, listening to his lover as he hummed and mumbled to himself, juggling ten ideas at once while he worked.

"Hey, put some music on." Blair called. Going to the stereo, Jim selected the Hootie CD he'd picked up a couple of days ago, programming it to start with *that* song.

Blair glanced up and smiled at him when it started.

"You like that song." his smile grew until it covered his face.

"It makes me think of you." Jim came over and leaned to kiss him softly.

"You wanna eat, or fool around?" Blair pressed closer to him, rubbing suggestively.

"Will dinner keep?" Jim slid his hands down to Blair's hips and lifted him to his toes, hard against him.

"Chili is time-friendly; the longer it cooks, the better it gets...but I'd better take the bread out..." Blair pulled slowly away from Jim, his hands lingering on the older man's chest before he turned to the oven, opening it and bending over.

Jim didn't even try to resist the urge. He stepped over, grabbed Blair's hips, bent his knees, and rubbed right up to his ass. Blair braced his hands on the stovetop and groaned.

"Gods, Jim...do you know what that does to me?"

"I hope so." Jim reached around him and began unbuttoning Blair's jeans, fingers pausing to play with the navel ring that turned him on so much. Blair wore it all the time now, for him.

Blair was moaning softly now, for him.

"Not here." Jim turned him around and wrapped an arm around him, walking him toward the couch. "Somebody could get hurt."

Blair leaned into him, weak-kneed. He let Jim push him over the back of the couch, body trembling, almost vibrating with excitement, anticipation.

Jim took him hard and fast, coming quickly to collapse on Blair's back, one hand tangled in his sweaty hair, the other stroking his flank. After a minute Blair twisted in his arms, straightening and pushing close to him, sliding a leg between Jim's, his still-fierce erection rubbing on Jim's thigh.

"Ohhhh...C'mon, Big Guy, a little help here..." he moaned, dragging Jim's head down and kissing him, open-mouthed with need.

Jim slid a hand between them and circled Blair's cock, stroking him a few times, and then letting go and stepping away, shaking Blair's hands off.

Blair opened his eyes, clouded, and stared at him.

"Jim?" a hint of disbelief colored the tone.

Jim studied him, saw and felt Blair's blush.

After thirty seconds Blair bent over and gathered up his jeans, puddled around his ankles, raising them and fastening them over his erection with shaky hands.

Suddenly Jim came back, his hands covering Blair's.

"Isn't there something you'd rather do with that?"

Blair met his eyes and Jim caught his breath. There was hurt in the blue eyes he loved, and confusion.

"I guess it was too much to hope for." Blair's smile was soft and sad. He stepped away from Jim, who stood dumbly, trying to understand what had just happened.

Blair went out the door and Jim gave himself a mental shake, followed. He caught up with Blair on the steps, grabbed his arm, turned him around.

"What the hell was that?"

Blair wouldn't look at him. He stared at the steps, and mumbled.

"It's okay, Jim. I understand, I'm not mad..."

"Mad about what?" Jim cupped Blair's face in is hands. "I don't know what you thought I meant, but you definitely *don't* understand if this is your response."

Silent, Blair's eyes dared him to explain.

"Dammit, Baby. I've been trying for weeks to get you to...to, well, you know..." Jim glanced around, saw that they were alone; "I want you to make love to me, Blair. All I was trying to do was encourage you."

Blair still didn't answer, but his face creased in a frown.

"Can we talk about this inside?" Jim searched his face before letting him go. Blair nodded.

Back inside Jim stirred the chili, thinking, while Blair pulled out the finished cornbread and cut it into squares, dumping the pieces into a napkin-lined basket, then set the table, including two beers.

Jim set the pot on the table while Blair pulled out a carton of unprocessed sour cream.

They sat, served themselves, and began to eat.

Jim exhaled with a whistle, taking a swig of his beer.

"Too hot?" Blair sounded worried. "I kept the spices down."

"The chili's great, Chief." Jim looked up at him and Blair continued to eat steadily, not looking at him. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I'm beginning to think other things aren't hot enough."

*That got his attention.* he thought with satisfaction as Blair gulped down a mouthful and had to take a swig to swallow it. He sputtered slightly, staring at Jim.

"What?"

Jim shrugged lazily.

"I figured that if I got you hot enough you'd do anything ...but I guess I was wrong."

"Jim...I..."

"It's not that I mind being on top all the time." Jim continued as if Blair hadn't spoken. "But I'm starting to feel uncomfortable about it. It makes me feel like...I don't know, like this isn't an equal relationship. I never wanted to become a gay stereotype."

Blair just stared, unable to answer, stunned.

"You said you liked it - you said you *loved* it - so I don't understand why you won't do it."

Blair shook his head, the fingers of one hand brushing his mouth, a gesture Jim recognized as nervous.

"I'm worried about how it will effect you." he answered at last.

"Can't you just let me worry about that?" Jim took another bite and chewed while Blair thought over his answer.

"I don't think you realize just how much it can change you."

"Baby, your first experiences weren't normal. You can't base judgements off them." Jim said it carefully, not wanting to bring up painful memories, but Blair blew it off.

"That's not the reasoning I'm using. Jim, I've known straight men who fell in love with another man before. I've seen them try to change their lives for that love. And at least half the time, when it failed, that was why. They just couldn't reconcile *that* with their self-image. So it's not just you I'm protecting. It's me. I couldn't stand to lose you over something like that. A sexual act that I can certainly live without."

Jim sighed and put down his spoon.

"I don't know how to convince you that I'm not going to change my mind about us. Blair, do you know it hurts me when you can't trust me?"

"I do trust you, Jim." Blair looked very unhappy and Jim frowned. He hated making Blair unhappy. "It's your subconscious I have doubts about."

Jim got up from the table taking his almost-empty bowl to the sink and rinsing it, speaking over his shoulder.

"Okay. We can work through this, Baby."

Blair handed him his own bowl, appetite gone, and cleared the table.

"We just need to work up to it, I guess. A little at a time." Jim turned and caught Blair's eyes. "Okay, Chief?"

Blair smiled at him just a little smile, full of promise.

"Yeah. We can do that. Once I'm sure you're comfortable with it I'll be happy - *thrilled* - to make love to you, Jim. To take you as mine."

"But not now." Jim grinned as he used the phrase they had unofficially adopted to indicate that the time or place was wrong.

"Now we go talk to that witness." Blair agreed.

They got home three hours later, well after dark. Jim was frustrated and bored.

"This has got to be the dumbest case I've ever worked on." he grumbled as they undressed for bed. He lay down, still in his boxers, and watched with interest when Blair slid his own off and kicked them under the bed. "Out of sight, out of mind?"

"Hush." Blair bounced onto the bed and climbed to lay half- across him. "I'm in pain here, Big Guy." he indicated the erection he'd been trying to ignore for the past three hours.

"Oh, yeah..." Jim teased, sliding his hands down Blair's back to lighten his touch and delicately stroke the younger man's flanks, which made the skin shiver and coaxed a sigh from his lips. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

"Not hardly." Blair snorted, and then he opened Jim's mouth with his own.

Jim lay back, a little surprised by Blair's aggressiveness as the smaller man took control of the situation, firmly guiding the kiss and placing Jim's hands where he wanted them. Jim went along with it, intrigued.

They went at it hot and heavy, hands searching, mouths locked together. When Blair urged him over onto his side Jim complied unprotesting, but found his hands free and groaned in quiet complaint until Blair spooned up close behind him, throbbing erection pressed close to Jim's ass.

"easy..." Blair whispered, one hand reaching around to stroke Jim's dick. Jim thrust into it slowly, calming himself, coming down from the fever-pitch they'd hit.

Blair kissed his shoulders, nibbled on his neck. Jim groaned again, enjoying the now gentle seduction. Blair moved against him and he pressed back, wanting to feel his lover's body.

The hand on his ass didn't bother him, but Jim couldn't restrain a small shudder when Blair's finger, cool and damp, slid down that crease. When Blair slowed he pushed back against him again, harder this time.

"Like that?" Blair licked his ear and let his voice blow cool over it, making Jim shiver again.

"mmm." Jim didn't really feel like talking. "more."

"Okay." he felt Blair's smile on his skin, and then drew in a quick breath when Blair stroked his ass, letting the tip of a finger sink into him, stopping when Jim tensed.

Blair concentrated his attention to Jim's dick, lightly stroking the underside with his fingertips, then wrapping his hand around it to pump, stopping that to tease the head with his thumb. Jim let his senses focus on that and soon the other didn't feel so strange.

Blair groaned into Jim's neck when he finally sank that one finger all the way in. Jim was very still, the big body quivering in his arms.

"You're *so* tight..."

"Ahhh..." Jim grunted.

"Tell me if this hurts." Blair began to finger-fuck him slowly, other hand stroking Jim's dick in counter-rhythm.

"Not *hurts*..." Jim felt an unfamiliar sensation of heat rolling from his groin. It felt different than any other stimulation he'd ever experienced. "God...Blair. This feels strange."

Blair stopped what he was doing and raised up a little to look down at Jim, seeing the frown between his closed eyes, the set of his body.

"Strange good or strange bad?" he asked.

"I'm not sure..." Jim reached a hand back, settled it on Blair's side, gripped him. "Just don't stop. I want to do this."

Blair kissed him, tongue trailing a path over shoulders and down the broad back, front hand beginning again, getting Jim worked up before he moved the back one.

Jim was thrusting into his hand, faster now, and Blair began moving his finger again. Soon Jim groaned and began thrusting both ways, forward into the hand and backward onto the finger and Blair felt the swelling as he got close.

"Want more?" he whispered, biting harder on Jim's neck, eliciting a deeper groan and more eager movement. "More, Jim?"

"More...." Jim groaned raggedly. He gave himself over totally to Blair's hands, slowing his increasingly erratic movements when Blair withdrew the finger, and then bucking against him when he replaced it with two and began to do it again. "Oh, god, Baby, Blair..." Blair tightened his hand on Jim's dick and pumped him hard, angling his fingers to stroke Jim's prostrate. Jim jerked in his arms, struggling to process all the sensory information he was getting. "Blair...what...oh, god...it - it -"

Jim threw his head back onto Blair's shoulder and came with a hoarse shout, arching on Blair's hand and fingers, shuddering and shaking.

"Shhhh. Shhhh." Blair turned him over and gathered the larger man into his arms, holding him close. "Jim, love." he kissed him, feeling the big body relax and Jim's arms come around him. "there." he smiled when Jim opened his eyes and looked at him. "Not bad for a first step, huh?"

"That was...incredible." Jim sighed, kissing him. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but not...not that."

"Hey." Blair's grin was mischievous. "It gets better."

"I'm not sure I'd survive *better*." Jim sighed, kissing him again. Blair's mouth opened to him and he plundered it greedily, feeling his lover's need hard and hot on his belly. "Oh. We'd better take care of that, what do you think?" he lowered a hand to rub it.

"Please." Breaking the embrace Blair rolled to his side, offering himself.

With a grin Jim lowered his head.

"Durndle spoke to me last night." Simon said after Jim knocked on the door and Blair followed him in, sitting *in* the chair for a change. "He thinks you should take this case he's been working on. His partner's been out for several days, but I'm sure that's just an excuse."

"I'd like to take it." Jim spoke up. *He* was sitting on the table this time.

"I'm a little worried about this, Ellison. That he would suggest you and Sandburg specifically for this case. It leads me to think that there's more going on here than some rumors."

"There was a little...incident with Allan." Jim hedged.

"Incident?"

"I might have given him the wrong impression."

"Jim, you haven't done something stupid, have you?" Simon sounded genuinely concerned.

"We haven't told anyone or been demonstrative." jim answered clearly.

"No-one?" Simon queried.

"No-one here." Blair amended. Jim gave him a sideways look. "I told a couple of people at school...people I hang out with regularly. I've sortof, well, been talking about you a lot since I met you and somebody said something and it got around and then there didn't seem to be any reason to hide it...I just wanted to tell *somebody* how happy I am."

Jim stared. Simon waited for the explosion he was sure would be coming.

"I can understand that." Jim said slowly. Blair smiled and Simon almost gaped, but caught himself before his mouth opened too far.

"It's no big deal." Jim said, giving Blair a reassuring smile. "We weren't planning on staying on the closet forever."

"We weren't?" Blair sounded surprised.

"We weren't." Jim stood. "So we should take this case." he focused on Simon again. Make a statement, as it were."

"If you're sure you want to. Just don't forget about the other one." Simon warned. "The mayor calls daily to see if you've made any progress."

"I know, I know..." Jim muttered as they walked back out into the bullpen.

Now Blair was conscious of the glances they received.

"Uh, Jim?" he whispered, sitting at his desk pretending to read while Jim went over the file.

"Hmm?"

"Does this mean we're coming out?"

"If you want to. I'm not suggesting we take out an ad...but I'm not going to lie about it if someone asks me."

"Oh. Good." Jim looked up now and saw Blair smiling at him.

"You still can't kiss me here." he warned.

"But I can think about it." now the younger man was teasing.

"Oh, yeah."

Their long look was interrupted by Durndle coming over. He looked reluctant.

"Simon said he gave you the case. I think you'll do better with it than I did."

"Really?" Jim watched him, seeing the signs of nervousness; elevated heartrate, slightly sweaty, quick respirations. "This really makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Durndle got a mulish look on his face. "This isn't the time or place for my personal opinions. I just wanted to tell you that I'd set up a computer search for similar cases a couple of days ago and just got the results back today - the systems are getting slower and slower - anyhow, I found one case that might match, here in Cascade." he extended a paper-clipped sheaf of computer printout. "Maybe you can get a lead from him."

Blair stood and looked over Jim's shoulder. The first page had a picture of a good-looking teenager, maybe fourteen. He met the camera with shy dark eyes, a scrap of curly hair falling across them.

"We've got no name on him, just a nickname, he'd been on the street for a while when it happened..." Allan trailed off when Blair lay a hand on Jim's shoulder and leaned over him to flip to the next page. "That's all I've got." he said flatly. "Good luck."

Blair watched him go.

"What'd I do?"

"I think he has an overactive imagination." Jim shrugged, rolling his shoulders, and Blair looked at his own hand, settled so comfortably there.

"Heck, I did that before."

"He probably doesn't realize there was a *before*." Jim sat back and Blair continued to lean over him as they read through both files together.

The first case was three years old. A young male prostitute- Blair grimaced at that and mumbled something about changing schedules again - who had been cornered in an alley by a group of men who poured lighter fluid on him and lit it. His life had been saved by another young man on the street who heard his screaming and came in with a baseball bat. The attackers had scattered, 'probably as frightened by what they'd done as by the second man', a police psychologist had observed and the rescuer had called an ambulance. After months of intensive care the boy, known only as Trade, had been released from the hospital to social services, who placed him in a foster home that he disappeared from a week later. He hadn't been seen or heard from since.

"Trade? That's quite a name."

"It almost seems tongue-in-cheek, doesn't it." Jim agreed.

The new case was thirteen days old. There were similarities. But this man wasn't a prostitute, but a grocery manager, Sam Johnson, who'd been caught and cornered on his way home from a club early one morning. According to testimony from the club, he'd had too much to drink, decided he wasn't safe to drive, but hadn't wanted to wait forty-five minutes for a cab.

"He was doing the right thing and it got him killed." Blair was angered.

"I don't think it's something the 'don't drink and drive' campaign ever considered." Jim soothed as they continued reading.

Club employees had heard screams a short time later and gone out to investigate in a group, leaving someone behind to call the police.

"Gay-bashing isn't uncommon, so I guess they were prepared." Jim observed.

They found the man in flames. Though they beat them out with their coats, it was too late, he was already dead by the time they got the fire out.

"Probably better to die than live after that." Blair was staring at the picture of Trade in his hospital bed, covered with bandages and tubes. He'd suffered third-degree burns that covered most of the left side of his body.

"I think we should find him." Jim stood. "He couldn't give good descriptions after the attack, and then he vanished before they could get anything else. Maybe he wants to talk about it now."

"How old was he?" Blair asked suddenly, taking the printout and flipping through it.

"He wouldn't say." Jim pointed to the entry. "The doctor said he was thirteen or fourteen, maybe a year older or younger."

"Who was the guy that saved him? Did he have any contact with him while he was still in the hospital?"

"Yeah, here. He came to the hospital every day. Seems he offered to take the kid in but social services said he was too young himself. He was only nineteen."

"That's who we need to find." Jim tilted his head, thinking. "If he cared enough about him to want to take him in, maybe he kept track of him. I mean, the kid has to have been living somewhere. No way is he making any money on the street looking like that." He gave Blair a frown. "His name is Jon Skillman. He was a student at Ranier then..."

"I'll see what I can find out." Blair grinned and got on the phone while Jim went into the computer.

An hour later they broke for lunch and to compare notes. Over pitas at the deli they traded information.

"Okay. Skillman was pre-law, on scholarship, in his second year when he found Trade. He dropped out a semester later and hasn't been heard from since. No current address, he doesn't owe them any money. But his grades were good, and the university periodically makes an effort to find good students who've left. His name was on their last report, and it seems that he was working as a bartender last year, the last time they got a response from him, and he didn't plan on returning to school."

"That matches what I got." Jim finished his chips and began on Blair's. Blair pushed his plate closer to his friend's with a grin. "He's currently employed downtown, a place called the Bohemian Exchange." he looked up at Blair, who nodded. "You know it?"

"It's a great club." Blair grinned. "The kind of place I can't drag you to."

"A gay club?"

"About sixty-forty." Blair grinned wider at Jim's confused look. "About sixty percent gay, forty percent straight. Pretty well known for the private parties you can throw in the back rooms. I've been to a couple." he paused then, grinned ruefully. "A few."

"I don't want to know." Jim shook his head and finished off the chips while Blair finished his sandwich.

"So, we're going clubbing tonight?"

"Looks like it."

"Cool." Blair couldn't keep the grin off his face as they left the building.

But it faded soon enough. They had to spend the rest of the afternoon working on 'that stupid case', because when they got back to the station there had been two more incidents.

"And this sticker had something written on it?" Jim accepted the evidence from forensics, holding up the ziploc bag it was in, studying it.

The label was pale blue, with '25' scrawled sloppily on it.

"Nothing else?"

The scientist shook his head.

"Who got this one?" Blair asked. Jim glanced at him, saw that he was thinking.

"Uh...a lawyer."

"Jim, I have an idea." Blair said as they got ready to leave, a little early since they were going to have to go out that night on duty. "But I want to see what happens in the next couple of days before I talk about it."

Knowing that Blair wouldn't hold back anything if people were going to get hurt, Jim agreed.

Since they were going to have to go out anyhow, Blair suggested dinner out, and Jim agreed, eager for the chance to be a little romantic.

When Blair came out of his old room, where most of his clothes still were, Jim had to quell the urge to send him back in to change.

"We're not going out for fun, Sandburg." he grumbled, staring at him.

Blair posed nonchalantly, giving him a chance to look his fill.

Spray-painted black jeans, black sneakers, midnight-blue silk shirt that flowed over him like water to his thighs, collarless, buttoned to the top. Hair pulled back and tied with a black velvet ribbon, the ends trailing.

This shirt clung to him like a second skin, not tight but clingy, outlining the nipple ring clearly.

Blair's eyes glowed with the reflected blue.

"Gotta look the part, right?" he licked his lips, teasing Jim.

"Just remember who you're there with." Jim said at last. "I don't want to spend the night fighting them off you."

"As if." Blair stepped forward to give him a quick kiss. "So what are you wearing?"

"Nothing like that." Jim grinned.

In the end he went with causal -- worn jeans, hiking boots, comfortable knit shirt that was just a little tight. Blair whistled when he saw it and stroked the visible muscles with appreciation.

"I think we're going to have to defend each other." he teased as they left, after another, deeper kiss that they had to break before they got sidetracked.

But after dinner he got serious, in the truck giving Jim directions.

"Uh, Jim."

Hearing the note of worry, Jim looked over at him. In the passing lights Blair's face was highlighted and Jim couldn't help thinking, *God, he's beautiful.* over and over again.

"What is it, Baby?"

"I just thought I should warn you...there's a pretty good chance we'll meet some people I know here tonight."

"No big deal."

"I mean people I know really well, Jim."

"Oh." he understood suddenly. "Hey, I know you weren't a hermit before you met me, Chief. You've already met Carolyn, so this will make us even."

"You have no idea how even." Blair said in a warning voice, but he let it drop.

The parking lot of the club was crammed full, and there was a short line at the door. Jim studied it with dismay.

"I didn't want to use my badge to get in."

"No problem." Blair grabbed his hand and started leading him toward the door, winding his way between people expertly. Jim grinned, bemused, liking the feeling of Blair's hand in his, and then they were at the door, guarded by a neanderthal-looking man in leather with a shaved head.

"Hey, professor." the neanderthal smiled widely, exposing gold-capped teeth. "Where the hell have you been?"

Jim stared in shock as Blair was pulled into a hug, his head barely reaching the man's chest. Blair wrapped his arms around the man and then pulled away, looking embarrassed.

"I settled down, Franko." Blair pulled Jim up beside him. Jim smiled, feeling a little awkward as the larger man looked him over.

"I can see why. Give up on that cop of yours, huh?"

Blair shrugged, not answering.

"Can we get in?"

"Offff course." Franko stepped aside and gestured them in. The crowd behind them muttered but nobody said anything when Franko gave them a stare.

"Thanks, buddy."

"No problem. My sister woud've never have passed that class without your help." Franko gave Jim a gentle punch in the shoulder as they passed. "He looks good, prof. May be a keeper."

"Absolutely." Blair grinned at Jim as they went down a short hall, past two doors, and then stepped out into a space filled with a milling crowd of people.

Jim shook his head, the cacophony filling his ears. Worried, Blair pulled up on his toes to whisper in his ears.

"Too loud? Can you turn it down far enough?"

Jim shook him off, trying desperately to focus enough to turn down any one of his senses. He felt Blair press close to his side, felt the soft touch of Blair's hand on his brow as Blair stroked him, finally managed to hear his words, pitched low, beneath the storm.

"Concentrate on my touch...just feel that and ignore the rest..." Blair was crooning in Guide tones, and that helped Jim to do what he said, turning down his senses until all he could feel was Blair's hand on his face, his warmth at his side.

He released the breath he'd been holding and Blair saw it, knew he was ready for the next step.

"Okay..now turn them back up, one at a time. Bring each to the level you can bear the stimulation and lock it there..." he continued to speak and stroke as Jim went through his senses, doing what he said, until he could see and hear and smell at a bearable level. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Blair.

"I'll have to keep them tuned way down in here." he said, telling him that he wouldn't be able to use them in this mess.

Blair didn't say anything, just pressed close to him, turned into his arms, and kissed him, gently, with warmth.

"I love doing that in public." he whispered against Jim's lips.

"Then do it again." Jim figured that it was good for their cover and, besides, he hadn't quite realized how much he wanted to kiss Blair where other people could see them. Claim him.

They broke apart when it started to get hot, and exchanged grins.

"Not now." they said together.

"Where do we start?" Blair had to shout like everyone else because Jim didn't dare turn his hearing up, it was painfully loud.

"The bar. He's a bartender, remember?"

"You're buying." Blair grinned and led him to the far right side, where a bar complete with brass rails and stools ran the length of the building. There were at least five bartenders back there.

They waited a few minutes for a pair of stools to open up, but when none did, Jim spied a single and got it, pulling Blair into his lap, nuzzling his neck.

"What'll it be?" an older man stopped in front of them, looking relaxed but busy.

"Sex on the beach." Blair ordered with a grin thrown back at Jim, feeling his chuckle against his back as Jim leaned forward and spoke over his head.

"Draft. I'm looking for Jon Skillman. Is he on tonight?"

The bartender glanced down to the other end of the bar, where a short muscular man in a cut-off t-shirt was juggling bottles.

"Who shall I say wants him?"

"Cascade PD." Jim grinned at his look of astonishment,but went down to the man. It took him several minutes, winding his way between busy bartenders and stacked crates of glasses and bottles. Blair took advantage of the time to wiggle suggestively in Jim's lap, feeling his reaction with pleasure, while Jim watched the men speak quickly.

The short man stopped to make their drinks, then set them in front of them, his face studiously blank.

"Eight bucks."

Jim pulled his wallet out and paid, looking the guy over.

5'8", body-builder physique, dark red hair cut in a skater's cur that hung over into his dark eyes on the sides of his face. Ripped white t-shirt cut short, ripped worn jeans.

Two tatoos; a bracelet of barbed wire on the left wrist and a large red plus-sign on the right bicep.

At least seven silver rings in his left ear, two bright studs high up in the right, three more bright hoops in the eyebrow above his left eye.

"You cops?" he didn't sound like he believed it.

"I am." Jim said it at the same time Blair said "He is."

"You looking for Trade?"

Jim nodded.

"I read about the murder. You think he can tell you something, right?"

Jim nodded again, trying to read the man's face, but he must have been a hell of a poker player.

"Haven't seen him." Blair felt Jim shift as he turned up his hearing, trying to check the man's pulse without goping deaf.

"You're lying." Jim smiled and picked up his beer, taking a guess with his drink.

"We're not here to cause trouble." Blair spoke up. "We just want to ask him some questions."

"I said he can't help you." Skillman said slowly, and Blair was reminded that he'd been a legal student. Whatever he did for a living, this man wasn't stupid.

"We aren't going to hurt him, man. Just want to talk to him."

"A gay cop." Suddenly Skillman smiled, a feral, dangerous smile. "Didn't think they'd allow that."

"I'm good." Jim shrugged, wrapping his free arm around Blair's waist. Gladly Blair leaned back into him and closed his eyes, just for a few seconds, to enjoy it.

"Maybe. You hang around, I might talk to you." Skillman turned his back on them and worked his way back to his spot.

Blair had a second drink while Jim nursed his first. Then that song came on and Blair jumped down, tugging on his hand, urging him onto the dancefloor.

"I can't - I've never..." Jim objected, but didn't fight as Blair dragged him into the crowd.

"You've never danced with a guy. I know." Blair shouted at him, still holding his hand and pulling Jim close with the other on his hip. "It's not much different!"

Jim let Blair lead and soon found that his Guide was right, it wasn't that different. The song had a clear beat and Blair moved them together like a pro.

"You're good at this. I never knew." Jim leaned down to whisper.

"Why would you?" Blair answered, and kissed him.

The next song was one Jim vaguely recognized, but it was obviously a crowd favorite, because a roar went up when it began to play, Blair screaming along with the others as Billy Idol howled through "Mony, Mony".

Jim could only stare when Blair began singing along at the top of his lungs, as did half the crowd.

"Come ON!" Blair grabbed Jim and they went round each other as everyone but Jim sang the chorus.

"Ride the pony, Mony, Mony!" Jim was astonished by Blair's sudden energy level. It was as if he was feeding off the crowd.

After the first chorus Jim decided to loosen up a little -- he shouted the "Yeahs!" with everyone else. Blair's brilliant grin was all the reward he needed.

Ooo, I love ya mony, Mo-mo-mony.

Come on come on
Cause you make me feel so
well, I feel all right now
so good, so fine
well I feel all right now
Mony, Mony
I wanna ride your pony

Come on come on come on
feel all right yeah
yeah - yeah -yeah -

They danced three songs through before Jim wanted to sit and have another drink. The colored lights flashing on the dancefloor were driving his sight crazy.

They had barely gotten back to the bar when Blair was grabbed from behind and spun around. Jim reacted defensively, his hand slapping out to close on the stranger's wrist like a vice.

"Blair!" it was a young black man, a woman beside him. They both looked high and happy to see him.

"Charles - Sue!" Blair carefully pried Jim's hand off while the black man waited patiently, not looking at all upset.

Jim released him reluctantly, not surprised when Blair was swept into an embrace. Only this time he was kissed as well. With tongue.

Blair blushed and grinned apologetically when the woman took her turn after Charles let him go. Then he stepped back and put his arm around Jim, who wasn't smiling.

"Uh, guys...Jim...This is my partner, Jim."

"*The* Jim?" Sue gave him a blatant once-over. "Ooo, Blair. Good catch."

Jim held Blair to him tightly, offering his hand to Charles.

"Hey." Charles shook it. "Blair and I are old friends. I should have realized he got what he wanted when he stopped partying."

The look Jim gave Blair was reluctantly amused. Blair turned his face into Jim's shoulder.

"I warned you." he said under his breath.

"Sarah and Seth and Andrew will be in later." Sue said suggestively. "You guys want to party with us?" she winked at Jim.

"No...no, I don't think so." Blair shook his head. "We're kindof working on something here..."

"Too good for us now?" Charles grinned at Jim, then took Blair's hand and tugged. "Come dance with me."

Blair shook his head again, his voice dropping lower.

"Nah, Charlie, I can't. But thanks."

"Off the market, huh? Too bad." Jim could only stare while the man leaned close to Blair and ran his lips across the sensitive spot on his young lover's neck.

"Charlie...!" Blair protested. The man straightened and grinned down at him.

"Just so you don't forget me."

Blair groaned, unable to look at Jim.

Charles backed up a polite distance and then shot Jim a cocky grin.

"Better be prepared man -- I'm only the first!"

"There will be much gnashing of teeth tonight." Sue agreed.

They laughed and turned back into the crowd.

"Call me if it doesn't work out!" Charles called back over his shoulder.

Blair covered his face with his hands.

Jim stepped up behind him, pressing against him, hands on his shoulders, started swaying to the music.

Blair sighed and leaned his head back to Jim's chest.

"I guess we're going to be really, *really* even." Jim whispered into his ear.

Blair chuckled softly and turned in his arms.

"Tried to warn you, Big Guy."

"It's okay." Jim smiled down at him. "I pretty much already knew. You used to come home smelling of two or three different people...I wondered where you got the energy."

"Wonder no more." Blair grinned. "It was from resisting the urge to seduce you."

They swayed on the edge of the dance floor, tight together, for a long while.

Blair was bouncing up and down when they got back to the bar and found another stool, this one in Skillman's area.

But another man was covering it. Jim looked through the crowd, trying to spot him, finally made out his figure way in the back, sitting in a booth that was far enough removed from the dancefloor to allow for conversation.

"I think the kid's here." he told Blair. "Come on."

Blair grabbed his drink and followed Jim, the fingers of one hand tucked into the waist of the larger man's jeans, the link between them.

They left the dance floor and came into an area made quieter by low walls topped by glass partitions. Jim headed for the back.

Skillman saw them coming, stood and placed himself between them and the person he was talking to.

"Hey." Jim greeted him shortly. "Is that the kid? Isn't he kind of young for this place?"

"What, you're gonna pull the liquor license?" Skillman kept his place. Blair let go of Jim and moved to step around him, but Skillman's arm shot out and he grabbed Blair firmly around the upper arm.

"We don't need any trouble. Why can't you just leave us alone?" he directed the plea to Blair, his eyes sincere.

"We're not going to hurt him." Blair said calmly. "Trust me."

His eyes met the other man's and they took each other's measure.

Skillman didn't speak again, just stepped out of the way.

Blair saw calm green eyes in a ruined face.

It was one thing to read about and another to see. He heard Jim's indrawn breath and fought to restrain his own reaction.

The handsome boy in the file was gone. Only remnants of his beauty existed in the young man before them.

The left side of his body was mottled with scar tissue. Somehow his features - eyes, nose, mouth - had been spared, but that made the rest more dramatic. His short hair, black and curly, started almost in the middle of his skull, cut short on the right side of his face. The worn denim vest he wore over bare skin did nothing to disguise the patch of wrinkled faded red that started at the base of his neck and spread over the left shoulder, arm, and down his chest.

"Hey." Blair offered his hand. "I'm Blair Sandburg. This is my partner, Detective Ellison."

"I don't know who did it." his voice was low pitched and raspy. Blair imagined smoke damage.

"We'd just like to go over what happened to you and see if we can draw any correlations." Jim said. "Do you mind if we sit down?"

Trade glanced at Skillman, who nodded, then shrugged. They sat.

"I'll bring another round." Skillman said.

"Not for him." Jim spoke up.

"He's drinking soda, *detective*" the bartender mocked him and left.

Blair looked over the stack of books in front of the boy, several of them open or bookmarked.

"Anatomy and Physiology? Biology II? Where are you going to school?" he knew he sounded surprised, but hey, he *was*."

"I'm not in school. I'm studying for the SAT."

"Did you finish high school?" Jim asked, gently. "It wasn't mentioned in your file.

"I got my GED after I got out of the hospital."

"You want to be a doctor? I'm almost a doctor." Blair grinned. "Of anthropology, anyhow."

"How far along are you?" he sounded interested.

"I'm working on my dissertation. Actually, it's on closed societies, like police stations, that's how I met Jim..."

Jim sat back and drank his beer while the two scholars opened a conversation.

"Sure. That would be cool." Trade was grinning widely. Jim decided that the damage to his face made that smile all the more wonderful. He knew instinctively that Trade wasn't a young man who smiled a lot.

"Great. I'll pick you up at one tomorrow?" Blair saw the hesitation. "Or you could meet me on campus. I get out of class at noon. My office is in the science building."

"I can meet you there."

Jim saw Skillman coming over again, carrying another beer for him and tea for Blair, though he'd never thought they would have it in a place like this.

And the 'place like this' was packed from floor to ceiling with drinking, dancing, lusting bodies. The sounds and smells were overwhelming, so he's basically turned off those senses an hour ago.

"Blair's going to show me around campus tomorrow." Trade told Skillman carefully. "He thinks I can qualify for some private financial aide."

The look Blair got from the bartender could only be described as threatening.

"We've tried that before. Don't get your hopes up." he set the drinks down and then sat beside Trade, sliding over next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Blair watched while Trade leaned into that contact. It reminded him of how Jim made him feel.

Just thinking about it made him scoot closer to the big detective, who grinned and slid a hand down his thigh, resting it there warmly.

"I'm not promising anything, Jon." Blair dared call him by his first name, and wasn't surprised to see the grimace that crossed his face.

"Skill. Everyone calls me Skill."

"Yeah. We though about starting a detective agency: Skill and Trade."

"Trade and Skill." Skill corrected. "I'm done for the night. I've gotta get to bed so I can get up and do it again tomorrow." he sighed and a shadow crossed Trade's face.

"You work too hard."

"Hey." Skill stood, holding his hand. Blair found himself staring at the red cross tatoo. "I do it because I want to."

"You should let me get a job." Trade stood, gathering his books, Blair and Jim following. Blair felt a brief pang as Jim's hand slid off his leg, but knew he would get more soon.

"You have a job. Your job is to get into medical school." Skill was leading them out the back way, down a long hall with plain doors every few feet. Here it was quieter and Jim dared turn his hearing up again, just a little. He heard the unmistakable sounds of sex coming from behind many of them.

"You guys need a ride?" he offered when they stepped into the alley.

Trade glanced at Skill, who gave a 'whatever-you-want' shrug.

"That would be great. It's a long walk and he's tired." Skill snorted at that.

"This way." Jim led them around the block and down another to the truck.

Trade directed them to a sprawling apartment complex in a decent neighborhood.

"Nice place." Jim observed as they got out.

"I want him to live someplace nice." Skill shrugged. Trade looked briefly sad.

"He works two jobs to keep me here." there was an undertone of guilt. Skill slid an arm around the younger man's waist and pulled him close.

"You're worth it." he smiled, for the first time that night. Even Jim was caught by the tenderness in the expression.

"I'll meet you tomorrow on campus." Blair spoke up.

"Thanks for the ride." Trade let Skill lead him into the building.

"An interesting couple." Jim said as they drove home. "I was wondering, though."

"Yeah?" Blair started. He'd been deep in his own thoughts.

"That tatoo on his arm - the cross. Does it mean what I think it means?"

"As far as I know, that always means the wearer is HIV positive." Blair met his eyes.

"I thought so." Jim's response was subdued. It really sounded like he was saying 'I was afraid of that.' "Does that mean Trade...?"

"I don't know, Jim." Blair sounded tired. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Jim shut up. When they were almost home he reached over and stroked a lock of Blair's hair.

"Do you ever feel guilty?"

Blair's eyes were soft with emotion when he looked at Jim.

"We all do, Jim. It's a part of that relief, the guilt. I think it's the way we avoid feeling somehow superior for not getting it."

Jim was silent on the trek up the stairs to the loft. Once inside, he shut the door and pulled Blair close, holding him tightly. Blair could feel his heart beating in his chest and knew his own was going just as fast.

"You know...when you were going through that rough spot, before. I thought you might have it. I don't think I'd ever been so scared. I was so scared I couldn't even let myself think about it."

"I know." Blair returned the embrace strength for strength. "I was so messed up it barely bothered me at the time...hardly registered. Now I look back and think 'how could I have been so stupid?'"

"You're never stupid, Baby. A little single-minded sometimes..." Jim rubbed against Blair suggestively. He wasn't hard, but Blair felt the beginnings of an erection pressed to his belly.

Instead of responding in kind, Blair pulled away, going to sit on the couch, turning on the small lamp so he could see Jim better.

Watching him, Jim threw his keys into the basket and came to sit on loveseat, knowing Blair wanted to talk, knowing that the younger man couldn't think clearly with Jim too close.

Knowing that made him feel strong and safe.

"I know I've tested clean." Blair said slowly. "And I wasn't lying when I told you that I've used condoms since I was twenty. But there are other ways to get it, Jim, and I haven't always thought things through." he pulled off his shirt and stood. Jim let himself admire the supple form, highlighted by the warm yellow light.

"This..." Blair touched the nipple ring and Jim felt his groin twitch. "And this." Blair tugged on the navel ring. "I wasn't careful when I got these. I couldn't even have told you *where* I got them the morning after. A person doesn't have to be promiscuous or get paid for sex to get it...just unlucky."

The loft was filled with heavy silence.

Their eyes locked, the space between them suddenly looming large. A space filled with differences in age, experience, values and upbringing.

Then Blair reached his hand out and somehow that space was bridged.

Jim took the hand and stood, pulling Blair gently into his arms. He felt Blair cuddle against him, and held him, resting his cheek on the thick curly hair.

"I would hate to die like that." Blair whispered, his voice too soft for normal hearing. "But to put you through it would be worse."

"It's okay, Baby." Jim whispered, nuzzling down to speak into his ear, ignoring the earrings he loved to tease. "You're okay. I'm fine. We're going to be together for the rest of our lives."

Blair's sigh was a sob. He pressed his face to Jim's chest, seeking comfort. Jim tightened his embrace, waiting for him to speak.

"You've never said that before." Blair sighed at last.

"I never felt it so strongly before." Jim slightly away from him, leaning to look in his eyes when Blair wouldn't look up. "No matter what happens, I'll always be beside you. I'll take care of you, and you'll take care of me."

"I love you." the words, spoken so easily, so often, could still carry so much.

"And I love you." Jim smiled slightly.

They stood together for a long time, just embracing, holding each other in the night. At last Blair turned and led Jim up the stairs.

There was no sex that night...only the comfort of sleeping in each other's arms.

"I've got it." Jim looked up when Blair bounced into the bullpen. Peripherally he noted the reactions of several other detectives: negative, positive, and amused.

"What have you got?" he asked, unable - and unwanting - to restrain the grin that spread across his face. This close to finals they weren't spending a lot of time together and he missed Blair's presence at his side. It was a treat to see him at the station.

Blair stopped in front of him a thick folder in his hands. He stopped *forward* momentum, anyhow, but didn't stop moving.

"You look excited." Jim teased. His eyes said that he would be glad to do something about that as soon as he had the chance.

Blair's eyes promised to take him up on that at first opportunity.

"Okay. These labels. The numbers on them..." Blair moved past him and spread the contents of the folder on the desk. It came to me today, while I was taking Trade to lunch - " he missed the flicker of worry that crossed Jim's face "- we saw a couple of Mormons out on bicycles - I took him to that little English Inn place - so we saw these guys and he said 'ten points'. I asked what he meant, and he said that Mormons are worth ten points, they're too common to be worth more...and it came to me."

"Yes...?" Blair was staring at him expectantly and Jim hated to ask him to explain, proving once again that he was dense, but he was curious...and he'd be ecstatic if Blair had solved this stupid case.

"They're point values." Blair laid out the last five labels, in a row. Under each he put a piece of paper with the person's occupation written on it. "See? The lawyer was worth the least...only 25 points. There were two doctors, but they had different specialties...the podiatrist was only worth 100, but the obstetrician got 500. I'm not sure why the Hare Krishna came out at 400, but they've got to be rare in Cascade. And I'll bet the dog walker got 300 because he was harder to get to. All those dogs."

"You think it's a game." Jim nodded. He'd briefly considered the idea, but it had seemed farfetched. But if Blair had come up with the same conclusion, then maybe...

"I think they're counting coup." Blair shook his hair back out of his eyes and Jim's were drawn to the movement. "It's a contest of some sort. They aren't hurting anyone...and I'm going to go a step further. I'll bet you a backrub to a homemade lasagna that if we make this public they'll stop. It won't be fun anymore if everyone knows about it."

"A *real* lasagna? Not that vegetable stuff?" Jim queried.

"Sausage, pork...with everything." Blair's beautiful smile spread across his face like a dawn. "And I mean a *real* backrub...massage oil, my hair brushed out, the works."

"It's a bet. Let's go talk to Simon."

"I can't do it." Simon shook his head. "The mayor wants these kids caught and punished.

"I wonder what his wife was worth?" they both heard Blair's mumble and Simon threw him a dirty look.

"Would you just sit in the damn chair, Sandburg?" he snapped as Blair fidgeted again.

"Sorry." Blair said, but he didn't look at all repentant.

"What are they going to charge them with, Simon? They haven't hurt anyone. Charging them for something would be like arresting the kid who puts a 'kick me' sign on the teacher."

"I know, I *know*." Simon closed his eyes as if in pain. "Maybe I can leak it."

"I have a friend who works at channel 10." Blair shrugged when Jim looked curious. "Someone I've known a long time."

Jim rolled his eyes, but Blair ignored it.

"I could tell him and I know he would tell someone else..."

"Do it." Simon said flatly. "I'm sick of this mess. If it stops, then maybe the mayor will let me concentrate on real crime."

"You got it." Blair bounded to his feet and over to Jim, who stood to meet him. "I'll see you at home tonight. I've got tons of stuff to do."

Jim's disappointment was obvious even to Simon.

"I've hardly seen you all week." he tried to keep the whine out of his voice and mostly succeeded.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you over the break." Blair glanced at Simon, then at the blinds, which were down. "Hey, Simon, close your eyes."

That made Simon stare, of course, so he was looking when Blair reached up and pulled Jim's head down to his and kissed him firmly.

Jim resisted for a second, but he'd missed Blair so much that he couldn't keep it up. His arms wrapped around Blair and he kissed him back like a drowning man seeking air.

Simon's cough brought them back to their senses and Blair grinned, stepping away, seeing the Jim's reaction in the set of his body, the arousal so obvious in his slacks.

"Hold that thought." he said, and then he was gone, bouncing out of the room, both men staring after him dumbly.

"Well, that was enlightening." Simon said slowly. "I think I could stand a little less enlightenment, if you understand."

"Uh..." Jim felt his face going hot and willed himself not to blush. It was a close call. "Sorry about that. He does get carried away sometimes."

"I'll let him get away with it once." Simon said. The suddenly he grinned. "Maybe even twice. But I better not see it in the bullpen, Ellison."

"Ten-four." Jim matched his grin, enjoying Simon's easy acceptance.

"Now you've still got a real case to work on, and a couple of new things on your schedule..."

"I'll get right on them." Jim left before Simon could say anything else and embarrass him further.

But when he got back to his desk he couldn't keep his mind on work. It had been a long and strange two weeks. Somehow the exchange of emotions they had experienced the night they met Trade had loosened Blair up. He'd quit trying so hard to be perfect for Jim, begun to act more like he'd been when they first met, a bit looser, a bit wilder. Jim remembered him like that. Although he'd liked him - had begun to love him - then, that didn't mean that he liked what it did to their lives. Blair was working like a maniac, gleefully burning the candle at both ends - and the sides - and he seemed to have rediscovered a large part of the social life he's let slip away over the months preceding his breakdown.

Jim was glad to see him happy. Thrilled to know that he was a huge part of that happiness. But a tiny, unworthy part of him, buried deep in his noble heart, was worried.

It whispered to him, in a minuscule voice that he didn't need Sentinel senses to hear, that maybe Blair was *happier* when he was hanging out with his friends. The ones who thought like he did, the brilliant ones, the ones who could sit and talk esoteric for hours on end. The young men who understood what it felt like to be on that wrong side most of their lives, the way Jim couldn't. Despite his love for and relationship with Blair, Jim still primarily thought of himself as a straight men. He'd always been straight, and the fact that he loved Blair didn't mean that he wasn't now. This was love, not biology. He could never feel this way about any man but Blair.

How long would he be enough for Blair?

He got home after nine. Tired, hungry and frustrated, he frowned when he heard the voices coming from inside the loft.

"Jim!" Blair's happy greeting was marred by the fact that it was delivered over Trade's head as the two of them huddled over a thick textbook. Though it was late there was no sign of dinner.

"There any food?" he crossed to the fridge and got a beer.

"We went out for pizza. I can fix you something if you want." Blair was watching Trade's hands as the teenager worked out an algebra equation.

"Forget it. I'm not really hungry." Jim went to the sofa and turned on the Tv. He waited for Blair to protest, to insist, but Blair took him at his word and went back to what he was doing.

Jim drank his beer, trying not to listen.

Blair was telling Trade a story he'd heard while traveling in Australia, about a wicked spirit who punished those who made of fun of others by cursing them with impotence. When he talked about the response of the villagers to those cursed by this spirit Trade cracked up. His laugh was as raspy as his voice, but filled with life. Jim winced.

Trade was young and bright. He'd suffered terribly and risen above it. He and Blair had become fast friends, the way only Blair could make friends.

Jim knew without a doubt that if Blair was stranded 200 miles away, all he had to do was call Trade and the teenager would come and get him.

All of Blair's friends would. Even Margaret, after the way Jim had dumped her. She wouldn't speak to Jim, but she was still Blair's friend. He juggled that with infinite ease, that ability to make friends and keep them.

It was a part of what attracted people to him, men and women. They wanted to be a part of that energy, that love of life.

Jim knew from experience that having the total of that force turned on a person could make them lose their heads...he lost his every time Blair turned it on him, that force of personality, that charm.

And he hated it when he gave it to someone else.

*Jealousy is beneath me.* he told himself sternly. *I know Blair loves me like he's never loved anyone else.*

*Then why won't he make love to me?*

Blair still hadn't moved beyond finger-fucking Jim while he stroked him off or gave him head. Even though it felt incredible, Jim felt a growing need for Blair to take him, to mark him forever. He wanted Blair to be the first and only man ever to do that to him.

But still Blair held back, afraid of Jim's reaction.

Jim was startled from his thoughts by Blair's voice, close by. He opened his eyes to see the reason behind his musings standing in front of him, looking bemused.

"You're wiped." Blair observed. "I'm going to run Trade home, why don't you go on up and get to sleep?"

"Will you wake me when you get back?" Jim faked a pout and was rewarded by Blair's grin.

"Absolutely." he leaned to give Jim a quick soft kiss.

"Take the truck." Jim said softly.

"Huh? The Corvair can make it, man." Blair was surprised. Jim almost never let him to drive his truck.

"I don't want to have to climb out of bed to rescue you. Take the truck." Jim found a better reason than 'I worry when you're out there alone', but Blair saw through it.

"Okay, Jim. To make you happy."

"Thanks." Jim said and then smiled. "When you come back you can make me really happy."

"I'll do my best."

Trade hung back while they talked and only offered Jim a small, hesitant grin when they left. It looked out of place on the scarred map of his face.

He wasn't being fair to the kid, Jim scolded himself as he got ready for bed, deciding he was too tired for a shower. Blair had made it clear that a little sweat turned him on. "It lets me smell you the way you must smell me all the time." he'd said. Since Jim worked out at the police gym twice a week, he knew to be ready when he got home for dinner on those nights...because dinner was usually late.

Jim lay back in the bed, naked. He wanted his desire clear to Blair as soon as the younger man walked up the stairs.

Tonight he would force the issue. He would make Blair take him.

There was no 'if'.

His thoughts made Jim hard, and he lay quietly in bed, waiting for his lover, daydreaming about what they were going to do.

The cellphone woke him. Ringing stridently. He fumbled for it, trying to grab the phone and get a look at the clock at the same time.

Almost three a.m. Where the hell was Blair?

"Ellison." he snapped into the phone. "Blair, is that you?"

"Yeah, Jim." Blair sounded very unhappy, tired and worried. Even unable to see him Jim knew the exact expression on his face at this minute. "I just thought I'd call you, in case you got worried. I'm at the hospital with Trade. Skill wasn't feeling well when I got Trade home, the kid was scared, so I offered to stay for a while, and now he's really sick..."

"Does he have AIDS now, Sandburg?" Jim winced. He hadn't meant it to sound so harsh.

"Yeah. His T-cells are below five hundred. Look, Jim, I know I was supposed to help you at the station tomorrow, but I can't just leave the kid like this...he's got nobody else..."

*Neither do I*. Jim kicked the thought out as soon as it crossed his mind. He could take care of himself. That kid had been hurt enough already.

"I understand, Chief. Which hospital are you at? I'll come by before work and drop off some food and stuff."

"Uh, Jim? I still have the truck."

"I'll take a cab. Then you can call one if you need to get anywhere."

"Thanks, man. You're being really great about this. I'm going to have to leave for a while, can't skip classes, but I've only got three today, he'll be okay for a few hours."

"I'd come sit with him but I've got a shitload of stuff to do..." Jim knew he was making excuses. *Blair hates hospitals. How can he stand to stay there all day?*

"He's a tough kid." Jim thought he heard something more than friendship in that voice. "He'll handle it."

There was a brief pause as Jim tried to decide what to say...how to say it.

"You better get back to sleep." Blair said and Jim heard the sigh behind it.

"You want me to come keep you company?"

"Nah, I'll be fine, man."

"I love you." Jim felt impelled to say it. Blair's response was distracted.

"Yeah, Jim. Love you to. I gotta go, they're moving him to a room now..."

"Bye." Jim whispered, but heard the click and knew that Blair had cut him off before he could finish.

Jim didn't see Blair for three solid days. They spoke on the phone, he found evidence of the younger man's existence when he came home at night, but he never actually saw Blair.

Splitting his time between the hospital, school, the loft and Trade's apartment, Blair was exceeding his limits. On the phone Jim tried, delicately, to remind him of what had happened the last time he let his life get out of control, but Blair insisted that he was doing what he had to, that he trusted Jim to keep it in balance for him.

Jim didn't know if he could do that. Blair seemed entirely willing to throw himself off the cliff and trust Jim to catch him, but that level of trust bred a deep fear in Jim's heart.

What if he wasn't strong enough for both of them? What if he wasn't who Blair thought he was?

He went to sleep at night or sat in a car on stakeout, fretting, worrying at the problem, attacking it from all angles, trying to understand what it was about the situation that bothered him so much.

The facts were straightforward. Trade was Blair's friend. Trade was alone while Skill was in the hospital. He needed someone so Blair made the commitment to be there for him.

It was entirely a Blair thing to do.

So why did it make Jim feel so unhappy?

He came home on the third night and went to unlock the door, but then stopped, hearing soft voices inside.

He didn't want to, but he had to listen. So he turned up his hearing and did.

Trade was crying, and Blair was whispering comforting words. From the sounds of cloth on cloth, skin on skin, Jim knew that Blair was holding him, soothing him as Jim had once held and comforted Blair.

There was nothing suggestive about the words or even the situation. Trade surely needed the attention. But Jim felt anger surge in him, rolling through him like a wave.

He went through that door prepared for the worst.

Blair was sitting on the couch, Trade curled tightly against his side. Jim smelled the saline traces of tears, the sour scent of despair.

Blair looked up at him and sighed.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Jim stood still, the door swinging shut behind him. "How is Skill?" he half-expected to be told that he was dead.

"He's better. They're going to let him go home tomorrow." Blair managed a small smile. "He's going to start that new drug regime."

He must have seen Jim's confusion on his face, because he answered it.

"It's all been a bit too much for him." Blair grinned down at Trade, who was resting, eyes closed, almost asleep. "I don't know which was worse, his lover being sick or getting better."

Jim stared, his eyes going wide when Blair leaned down and kissed the teenager on the forehead tenderly.

The Blair lay him on the couch and got up.

"Can you hand me a blanket?"

With a mental shake Jim got one from the closet and watched Blair spread it over Trade's sleeping form.

"You coming to bed?"

"I have to finish writing the essay questions for an Anthro II test." Blair sounded apologetic. "I'll be up later."

"Baby..." Jim came around the table as Blair started to make tea, laid a hand on his arm. "Blair. I've missed you."

Blair turned and Jim saw that although he was tired, his eyes were peaceful.

He covered Jim's hand with his own, lifted it, kissed the palm gently.

"I've missed you too. How has work been?"

"Same old, same old. I owe you a backrub."

"Yeah?" Blair released his hand and bent to scrounge in the empty fridge. "It worked, huh?" he came up with the sour cream carton, opened it, checked it.

"No more skate-by stickings." Jim grinned when he said it. Blair went digging under the sink and the larger man was hard- pressed not to reach for his ass, so tempting in that position.

A potato in the microwave, and Blair was looking at him, a little smile playing on his lips.

"So it's like that, is it?"

Jim blinked. He'd almost zoned just looking at him.

Blair took his hand and turned, leading him toward the stairs.

"C'mon, love. Let's take care of that problem for you."

Jim wanted nothing more than to do just that, but the way Blair phrased it made it sound wrong. He hung back.

"Don't do me any favors." he said it gently, but wasn't surprised by Blair's sudden tense and the hurt look on his face when he turned. "I didn't mean it that way." Jim tried to explain.

"I can't imagine any other way to mean it." now Blair was staring at him, his blue eyes filled with hurt. Shaking his head Jim reached for him, but Blair took several steps, putting distance between them, hands on his hips.

"Blair. I only meant that I don't want you to do this if you really don't feel like it. If you're too tired or something. Don't do it just for me, okay?"

The microwave beeped and Blair went to it, pulling out the potato, hissing at the heat on his bare skin. He dropped it into a bowl and got out a knife.

"It's not like I mind."

"You mean you've done it before?" Jim shuddered.

"No, no." Blair tried to soothe him. "I've missed you, Jim, and I want to spend time with you. But sometimes I feel like the sex is the only way we really connect. The only time you *really* want me close to you."

"What? That's not fair." Jim dropped into a chair, all thoughts of lovemaking fleeing before this new pain. "Why would you think that?"

Blair finished doctoring his potato and sat across from Jim, fork in hand.

"I don't know the *why*, Jim. It just sort of feels that way."

"I want you with me all the time." Jim said, his voice dropping to an intimate tone, eyes catching Blair's. "Sometimes I have to...push you away, because I want you there so badly. It scares me, that I want to be with you so much."

"But I can't be there all the time." Blair set his fork down, got up, and leaned over Jim's back, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, resting his head on Jim's. Jim leaned back into the embrace, closing his eyes with a sigh.

"I know, baby. It's crazy."

"This is still new - to both of us." Blair leaned over to kiss the top of Jim's nose as Jim leaned back and wrapped his arms around Blair's shoulders, nuzzling into the hair that fell around his face. "You've never been with a man before and I've never been in a committed relationship."

"We should definitely be committed." Jim grinned, and then his lips found Blair's.

After long minutes of quietly building passion Blair pulled away with a smile.

"Now we really do need to go upstairs." he licked his lips and Jim watched his tongue.

"Not just for me." he said, standing.

"I never meant it like that." Blair said apologetically as they climbed the stairs side-by-side. "I always *want* you..."

"Baby..." Jim sat on the bed and pulled Blair between his legs, rubbing his face on the furred stomach, pulling the shirt up with his teeth. "Hush."

"Mmmm. Yes, Jim."

"Hi, baby." Jim waited until Blair got close to the desk before he greeted him.

"Anything happening?" Blair tossed his loaded backpack on the desk and sighed. Jim had to consciously stop himself from reaching for his shoulders to rub away the stress he saw there.

"Nothing. I'm beginning to think it was a one-time thing."

"Wonder if we could get Frank to drop by."

"We can't call him every time we have a tough case, Chief." Jim scolded. "We'll get a break."

"Do we have any plans this weekend?"

"No...it's your turn to choose. If nothing happens with this case."

"I haven't thought of anything." Blair shrugged. "I got an email this morning from an old friend...something may come up."

Jim smiled gently.

"Whatever you want." he said. Inside he was in denial. *No, the weekend times are ours, just for us....*

Blair sat and heaved another sigh.

"You know that backrub you owe me?"

"Uh-huh." Jim glanced up as another cop passed by the desk. Blair waited until he was gone to answer.

"I'm calling in the marker."

"Tonight?"

"Please."

They exchanged a look that promised much, and both went after the stacks of files with enthusiasm, now that they had something to look forward to.

"It's my night to cook, and if I want to order pizza, I'll order pizza." Jim said sternly when Blair rolled his eyes.

"Not fair. I can't do that on *my* nights to cook. I don't make enough as it is."

"It'll give me more time for that backrub..." Jim sang the last words softly.

"Veggie special." Blair said promptly. "With extra tomatoes."

"Sounds good."

Jim ordered the pizza. Blair was on the couch, still working on the lecture he needed to write.

"Why aren't you in the shower?" Jim sat beside him. Blair glanced up, then back to his papers.

"In a minute."

"Okay. I've got some stuff to do." Jim got up and went to the bedroom, changing into his oldest jeans and a grease-stained t-shirt.

"You going to change your oil?" Blair asked when he came back down. Jim had mentioned it the week before.

"Yeah. I'll get yours while I'm at it."

"Thanks."

Jim wondered why he didn't get a more enthusiastic reply.

Blair worked on the lecture, but his mind was on other things. Specifically sex.

He knew Jim was getting frustrated with him, because Blair wouldn't make love to him.

It wasn't that he didn't want to. Just thinking about it made him weak in the knees.

He didn't know what was stopping him.

He knew he was being unreasonable. Knew that Jim wanted it. The older man had taken to having his ass played with like he'd been born to it. Blair loved the sounds he made, the way he gave himself over to Blair's control.

He sat back, head leaning, eyes closed, taking a quick break.

Maybe it was him.

Maybe he didn't want to do that as much as he'd thought he did.

There was something about their relationship...the roles seemed so defined. Sentinel, Guide. Blessed Protector and Protected.

Leader, Follower?

Could this reluctance on his part actually be significant in the larger scheme of things?

Was the relationship genetically structured this way? A dominant and a submissive?

Blair shook his head and got up, shutting down the computer and heading for the shower. He didn't even want to consider that. It cheapened what they felt for each other if they blamed it all on biology.

"Noooo....Jim." Blair groaned when his lover stopped what he was doing to sit back on his knees and stare at him. Blair leaned up and reached to drag him back down.

Blair's hair was brushed, smooth and silky, hanging around his face in waves, still slightly damp from the shower. The backrub had become a body rub, then foreplay.

"*Jim*...*PLEASE*." Blair moaned from his chest, then sighed, dropping back to the bed. He recognized the stubborn look in Ellison's eyes.

"Would it work if I begged that pretty?" Jim asked, his voice low and silky.

"I just...don't want to do that right now." Blair tried to slow his whirling thoughts, to explain. "All I want...right this moment...is for you to fuck me."

"That's the *only* thing you want right now." Jim was thinking.

"If you offered me world peace instead, I'd still want you in me." Blair saw Jim's cock twitch at that and groaned again. "Jim."

"You know I can't deny you anything, Baby." Jim covered him with his body, moving to kiss him. Then he moved away, rolling Blair to his side and spooning behind him.

Blair groaned, half-relief. Jim eased into him and Blair shuddered ecstatically, then relaxed, leaning back on Jim, eyes closed, giving himself up to him entirely.

"But you're going to take me." Jim whispered in his ear as he pressed close to Blair, his pelvis rotating slowly as the younger man groaned helplessly. Jim wrapped a hand around Blair's cock, the other arm going around his chest, sliding a finger into the nipple ring as he lay his hand flat over Blair's heart, pressing the smaller man tight, chest-to-back. "You're going to do it soon."

Blair groaned his assent.

Jim undulated against him, never thrusting, just that deep, grinding pressure. It made Blair quiver and moan uncontrollably.

"Don't tease....harder, Jim. *Harder*."

"Shhh. Shhh." Jim whispered in his ear, tonguing the earrings. "We have all night. There's no hurry. Just be still, and feel me, in you, around you...breathe with me, Baby."

Caught in Jim's voice, his body trembling in the tightest of embraces, Blair could only moan breathlessly. Jim kissed his neck, his ear, licked a trail of wet heat down to his shoulder, his hips never stopping the slow undulation, never breaking rhythm of his pumping hand.

"I can feel your pulse around me...your blood flowing through your veins..." Jim moaned now, control stretched thin. "Your heart is beating with mine..."

Blair actually heard their hearbeats merge, become one.

The sensations became too much...he forgot to breathe... sparkles danced before his eyes....Jim's hand on him slowed, stopped.

The big man was still, holding him tightly.

"Blair? Breathe, Baby. Take a breath....that's it...." Jim waited until Blair had filled his lungs twice before starting again. "Stay with me, Baby. I want you to feel this...to know I'm the one doing this to you..."

Blair found enough breath and control to groan words.

"Only you, Jim. No one else...only you, forever..."

Still moving slowly, tempo unvaried, Jim felt the heat that rose in his lover's body. He could track it as it spread from his cock, washing upwards until it felt like he was holding an electric blanket, smoldering sweaty heat. The swelling in his hand, the rhythmic clenching of Blair's ass around his cock, these things warned him, pushed him on.

He knew how Blair loved it when he talked.

"I feel you...you're close. I can tell it feels good...it makes me feel good, knowing I'm doing this to you..." Jim shifted, rolling partly onto his back, taking Blair with him, sliding a leg over his, anchoring him as he felt Blair's slender body splay bonelessly over his larger one, arms limp at his sides. "That's it, Baby...let go...let me hear you..."

Blair responded to his urging with a deep, almost guttural moan, then another.

"Just like that...oh, I love to hear you..." Jim increased the pace fractionally, feeling his control slipping away like a wave from the beach. His balls pressed to Blair's, he could feel them swelling, preparing, as he ground into him, wanting to get as deep as he could, deeper, crawl inside him...

Blair shuddered and arched in his arms, the force of the movement almost pulling him away from Jim, but Jim held on tight and bit down on his shoulder, coming with him, the muscles of Blair's ass milking him as the younger man continued to shudder and shake for long moments.

When he was finally still Jim rolled them back to their sides and rested his head on Blair's shoulder, face in his hair, scenting deeply, the wonderful smells that summed up what was important in his life.

Blair's scent mixed with his, so thickly he could barely sort them out. Sweat, the musky odor of ejaculate. The scent of their love.

Jim closed his eyes. Blair was limp in his arms, completely relaxed.

There was a space of peace surrounding them. Perfect, unspoiled. The space they created together.

That space didn't need words.

They passed from waking to dreams almost without being aware of it.

Jim woke quickly, the first heat of the sun on his skin.

He felt the supple warmth in his arms and opened his eyes with a sigh.

They hadn't moved all night. He was still wrapped around Blair, inside him.

Realizing it brought a flush of passion, renewed hardness.

"mmm." Blair murmured, stirring slightly. Jim held him close, began to move within him. "Jim?" he sounded sleepy-sweet.

"I'm here..." Jim crooned. "I want you." he pulled out and slid back into Blair slowly, feeling the tightness, lubrication provided by last night's orgasm, still wet inside his lover.

"You've got me." Blair arched into him and groaned. "Am I still asleep?"

"No dream, Baby. Just you and me and the morning..." Jim groaned and began to thrust harder. This would be no slow seduction, he wanted to take Blair, mark him.

"Oh, gods, yes, *Jim*." Blair arched back again, meeting his strokes. Jim's hands held his hips tightly. Blair lowered a hand to stroke himself in time with Jim's thrusts.

"Oh, yeah, that's it baby, pump yourself." Jim groaned, Blair's arm brushing his hand with every stroke. "Make yourself come."

"Come with me..." Blair panted, moving faster. "Take me harder...Jim, *fuck me*..."

Taking him at his word Jim moved faster, began to pound into Blair, taking him hard, fingers digging into his hips as he held Blair for his thrusts, feeling himself surging deep.

"Oh, gods, oh, gods, Jim, I'm coming, I'm coming..." Blair's words trailed off into a howl as he sprayed all over his hand and stomach. Jim shouted after him and then they just lay there.

At last Blair pulled free from him and turned over, covering Jim's mouth with his own, kissing him hungrily.

When they broke apart to breathe Jim was still panting.

"That was amazing." Blair sighed, snuggling to his chest, kissing just above his heart. "We fell asleep making love and woke up making love. Kindof makes the whole night one long wet dream."

Jim laughed softly.

"I've never done anything like that before." he sighed and stretched. "You'd think we'd be sore."

Blair rolled away and off the bed, onto his feet, looking down at him.

"It was perfect, Jim." he leaned to brush a last kiss over Jim's smiling mouth.

"Yeah. It was, baby." Jim's smile softened to something more intimate and Blair smiled back.

"I'll start breakfast while you shower." Jim could see that Blair was making a conscious effort to put things back in normal 'morning' mode.

He let him, knowing that they had to get up eventually. But the memory of this night would get him through the longest day.

Simon called Jim in as soon as he got to work.

"Have you made any progress on *that* case?" he leaned over his desk, hands flat on the neat surface.

"No, sir. There's just not much to go on." Jim said steadily. He was angry with himself, but not going to take it out on Simon.

"What have you tried?"

"We found the boy, Trade, but he hasn't been able to help. We visited the site of the attack, but I couldn't pick up anything useful from it. Really, we got zilch." Jim slumped into a chair, suddenly depressed.

"Do you want to try an undercover op?"

"I think it might be the only way." Jim said. "I'll put it together, to start tonight."

"Good. We'll have a planning session at three." Simon dismissed him with those words.

Blair went into the station, trying to be inconspicuous. He didn't want to deal with any looks or comments. He'd gotten used to them, had years of practice, but he'd never learned to initiate confrontations or enjoy them the way some of his more flamboyant friends did.

But luck wasn't with him. As he passed through Vice a man he recognized -- but couldn't put a name too -- looked up from his desk and saw him. He motioned to his partner and they both headed for Blair, who walked a little faster.

"Hey, look. It's Ellison's boy-toy." One snickered as they stopped at a desk in front of Blair.

"Are you sure he's a guy? Ellison doesn't seem the type to go for a guy." the other said as Blair drew abreast of them and tried to go around.

"It's hard to tell with all that hair." the first man reached out and grabbed Blair's hair from behind, stopping him in his tracks.

"He's not very big...maybe we should check and make *sure* he's a he."

Blair darted his eyes around the room. There were three other cops in there, only one that he knew -- what was his name? -- Sigowski, that was it, he'd come to the loft for poker once or twice. He was on the phone, carefully not looking at Blair.

The second guy, a large man with coarse features that spoke of inbreeding, went around behind Blair and grabbed his ass, hard.

"Feels like a girl back here!" he said loudly. Blair felt his face flush hotly. With a vicious yank he pulled his head free, sacrificing several strands of hair to do it, his eyes watering at the sting.

Quickly he backed up, got the wall behind him so he could face them.

He didn't say anything as they approached. It wouldn't help, and they'd just use whatever he said to mock him further.

They got close and he stood his ground, looking defiant.

"Ellison teach you how to play with the big boys, shorty?"

"Hey, we don't know if he's short..." the large man's sneering comment was cut off when a hand clamped on his shoulder and Jim's voice, low and grating, cut through the air like a knife.

"And you never will, because he's way too good for scum like you." Jim turned the man around to face him, sidestepping to place himself in front of Blair, who closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, then opened them and protested.

"Jim...it's okay, man. No harm done."

Jim stared at the man he was holding, seeing the cruelty in his eyes.

"Picking on kids now, Hall? Can't take someone your own size?" he taunted.

"Any day of the week." Hall shook him off. "I ain't about to be beat by no queer."

"We'll find out soon enough." Jim pulled his fist back, ready to let fly. Blair caught it with both hands, speaking urgently.

"Jim, don't. You'll get in trouble, that's just what they want."

"Listen to your little piece of ass, Ellison." the other man was laughing at them. "We tell IA you started this, who's going to say otherwise?"

"I am." Sigowski had come over from his desk. Jim gave him a hard look.

"Thanks for calling me." Jim said flatly. *Why didn't you do something?* shone from his eyes.

"I'll tell the captain you accosted an authorized consultant with no cause." Sigowski ignored Jim's glare and turned on Hall and his partner. "IA will eat you alive."

Hall took a step back, his face florid with rage.

"It don't have to be IA, Ellison. You know that you're gonna get it sooner or later."

"You *know* what happens to fag cops." the other man smirked.

Jim dropped his arm to his side and moved, gesturing to Blair to walk past him. Blair did, quickly, eyes on the floor.

"Yeah. We get the best conviction rates." Jim's retort must have stung because Hall flushed darker. Jim turned on his heel and followed Blair.

Blair snuck a look at his lover. His jaw was clenched tight, that muscle was doing the Lambada.

He sat at his desk silently, not wanting to make Jim angrier.

Jim ignored him, muttering to himself while he pulled something up on the computer and went to work on it.

It wasn't until almost two hours later that he finished, saved the report, and stood with a stretch. Blair didn't watch, just stared at his hands, lying flat on the desk like they had been since he sat, the book between them unread.

"We've got a meeting with Simon in ten minutes." Jim said quietly. "I'm going to see a man about a horse first."

He walked away, not even aware of the pain that blossomed in Blair's eyes at that casual brush-off.

Simon watched Blair take a seat in a regular chair and just sit there...like a normal person.

*Oh, shit. What's wrong?* the thought was quickly followed by a hard look at Ellison, who was leaning against the edge of the table, back to the wall, across the room from Sandburg. Simon studied them with concern.

Jim's face was set, and that muscle was twitching in his jaw.

Blair wouldn't even raise his head to look at him.

Simon sighed inwardly. Trouble in paradise? Already?

Several other cops came in. Sigowski, Miller, Folsom, Tand. Jim nodded at them. Blair didn't even look up.

They discussed targets, strategies. Simon wasn't sure Sandburg was even there in the room with them.

Sigowski seemed concerned about the kid, tried to bring him into the conversation.

"Hey, Blair. What do you think? Which club should we hit?"

Blair gave him a quick look, then went back to studying the floor.

Finally it began to get on Simon's nerves. His worry made him snap harder than he intended.

"Sandburg?! Are you participating here?" he didn't mean to glare like that, but the kid was acting so out of character. He hoped for a smart-ass comeback, a return to normal.

Blair only stared for a minute, then got up, speaking quietly.

"I think you should get somebody else to go undercover. Nobody's gonna believe that Jim's gay."

Simon stared, astonished, as the small man walked out the door without a backwards glance.

Jim's face was carved in stone, but he didn't say a word. Didn't even watch Sandburg's dejected progress across the room and out the far door.

"Can we get back to work now?" Miller said, long-suffering.

Simon threw him a glare and he looked away, perhaps ashamed of himself.

Or trying to smother a laugh.

Jim opened the loft door warily.

It was quiet, but he could hear Blair - his breathing, heartbeat, the rustling noises he made when he turned over on his bed.

On his bed?

*His* bed?

Jim dropped his keys into the basket and allowed his senses to expand, taking in everything in his home...all the sounds, the smells.

There was food waiting for him...salmon. With an onion sauce. Blair had cooked.

He'd cleaned too, there was a distinct reek of cleaner coming from the bathroom.

*Was he trying to apologize*? Jim thought. Then, so close on the heels of that thought that it pushed out of his mind, *For what*?

Blair hadn't done anything wrong. He'd just been himself and gotten hassled for it.

Had there been something wrong with Jim's response? Coming to Blair's rescue was instinctive, there was no way he could have stood back and let those guys harass him...and he'd felt Blair's relief when he'd shown up and stopped it. His heart had slowed and he'd taken a deep breath as soon as he realized Jim was there.

He could feel Blair's anxiety now, hear his heart getting faster as he flipped over on his bed again.

He was dressed, at least. Maybe that meant he didn't intend to spend the whole evening hiding in there.

Jim went into the kitchen, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. And maybe nothing was, maybe Blair was just having a bad day and dealing with it in his own way.

But this wasn't Blair's way. He liked to talk things to death, not brood.

The last time he'd brooded things had gotten crazy bad.

Jim sat on the couch, a plate on the coffee table, white wine in a glass, turned the Tv on.

His eyes saw the pictures on the screen, but he didn't hear anything the announcer said. He was listening to Blair. And, by extension, soon he was listening to the music Blair was blasting into his brain at high - deafening - volume.

Even though Blair had the headphones on Jim recognized the band, they had been popular in the seventies, pounding acid-rock, screaming substituted for singing.

It hurt to listen closely enough to discern the lyrics, but Blair was playing the song over and over, and Jim wanted to know why.

He focused as it started again, trying desperately to filter out the screeching guitars and hammering drums.

Look out the left, the captain said,
The lights down there, that's where you lived
Saw a burnin', star a-burnin, high above the Los Vegas sin

It wasn't the one that you gave to me,
That night down south between the trailer.
Not the other one that you wish upon,
Not the northern one, the guide to the sailors

Star light star bright, you got the lovin' that I like
Turn this crazy bird around,
Should have not got on this flight tonight

You've got that touch so gentle and sweet,
But you've got that look so critical
Can't touch you babe, you know I get so weak,
Sometimes I think that love is just mythical

Up there's a heaven, down there's a town
Blackness everywhere, a little light shine
Blackness, blackness, dragging me down
Come on out and get `em in this heart of mine

Star light, star bright, you got the lovin' that I like
Turn the crazy bird around,
Should not have got on this flight tonight

I'm drinking sweet champagne, got the headphones up high
Can't throw you, can't throw you out of my mind

Ooo, now baby, now baby come on, ooooo, love is blind

Up go the flaps, down go the wheels.
Hope you got your heat turned on baby.
Hope they finally fixed your automobile
Hope it's better when we meet again, baby

Star light, star bright, you got the lovin' that I like
Turn this crazy bird around
Should not have got on this flight tonight
Should not have got on this flight tonight

*What the fuck did that mean*? Jim frowned and listened closer, food forgotten. Was there some hidden message Blair was trying to tell him? Did the song somehow remind him of their relationship?

Should not have got on this flight tonight!
Should not have got on this flight tonight.

Jim straightened, abruptly, standing and crossing the room as fast as he could without running.

The song didn't mean anything. Or maybe it did -- but that was secondary to the real reason Blair was listening to it so loud.

To draw Jim's attention from what he should really be hearing.

Blair was crying.

Choked, muffled sobs.

*It almost worked* Jim opened the door and went in quietly, laying on the bed beside his young lover. *He's learning*.

Blair didn't move from his position, on his stomach, arms covering his face, headphones slightly askew, pillow scrunched beneath his face.

Jim didn't reach for him. Didn't pull him into his arms the way his instincts screamed at him to.

*Maybe I'm learning too*.

He just lay on his side, one arm folded to his chest, the other hand resting gently on Blair's shaking shoulder, waiting for him to welcome an embrace.

It took longer than he thought it would. That damn song played twice more and he couldn't help but listen to the words, analyzing them.

You've got that touch so gentle and sweet,
But you've got that look so critical
Can't touch you babe, you know I get so weak,
Sometimes I think that love is just mythical

At last Blair sniffled, sighed, and lay still. Now Jim felt it was safe to move, but not much. His friend's body was still tense, his heart still pounding.

Raising up on his elbow, leaning over his head, Jim whispered, pitching his voice to cut through the noise of the song.

"Tell me what's wrong, Baby."

Blair shook his head hard, his wild hair brushing Jim's face like a caress.

"Please." it was a tender plea.

Blair turned over, met Jim's eyes, his own red and swollen.

*Had he been crying since he got home*? Jim worried. *No, he cooked and cleaned, this had probably started when I got here*.

Jim caught his chin and brushed a thumb across a cheekbone.

"Blair. I hate to see you hurting like this."

With a fresh sob the smaller man threw himself into Jim's arms, clutching him. Jim returned the embrace just as fiercely, trying to put all the love he felt into that grip.

The headphones fell to the floor. Jim heard the music blasting from them.

Up there's a heaven, down there's a town
Blackness everywhere, a little light shine
Blackness, blackness, dragging me down
Come on out and get `em in this heart of mine

He held Blair tight. Rocked him against his strong chest, offered the haven of his arms.

It was enough.

Blair stopped crying again and sat back, wiping his eyes roughly, the childish gesture that squeezed Jim's heart. He caught Blair's hands in his own and pulled them to his face, kissing each palm in turn, then pressing them to his chest, to his heart.

"I never used to cry all the time." Blair said softly.

"I hope it's not because of me." Jim held his hands and saw Blair register the beating of his heart, it was going almost as fast as Jim's. "Did I do something wrong?"

Blair shook his head, looking down at the bed.

"Blair. I know I wasn't...approachable this afternoon. But I wasn't mad at you. I was just so furious at those assholes that it was all I could do to keep from beating the shit out of them. I had to work really hard to resist the urge to do just that."

"It's no big deal, Jim...I just worry. What if something happens? You know, back-up is late, or little things....files misplaced, your mail slow, messages lost...the other guys could be really hard on you."

Jim sighed.

"If they are, it's not your fault, Baby. I came into this with my eyes open. And I like to think that I have enough people who respect me -- who like us both -- that the others will realize they can't get away with anything like that."

"You've never been mister popularity." Blair said it softly, worried.

"No -- but I'm a good cop and even the ones who don't like me know that. And I have a few friends." he grinned. "So don't worry about it so much. I'm just not going to let anybody bully you. Okay?"

Blair shrugged. Jim released his hands and gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

"I thought we were done with *that* particular expression." he said with a small smile.

That caught Blair by surprise and, reluctantly, he smiled back.

"That's better." Now Jim leaned close to kiss him, sweetly, mouth slightly open, tongue staying put. Blair pressed into the kiss and then Jim pulled away. "Baby, I don't want you letting yourself get so upset. I can't go through that again. You've got to keep your balance here. You're still not back all the way from where you went."

"I know. I'll slow down, I promise."

They kissed again, long and passionate. Eventually Jim pulled back, a scolding look on his face.

"That was a rotten thing to say, you know."

Blair raised an eyebrow, questioning.

"That nobody would believe I'm gay." he spread his arms, gesturing around the room. "Does this look like I'm pretending something?"

"It's just so hard to believe sometimes...." Blair was mumbling, not meeting his eyes again. "If I can't believe it, how can anyone else? If nobody believes it, then how can it be true?"

"Baby..." Jim gathered Blair to him, nuzzling into his neck where it met his shoulder, breathing the scent of him deeply. "I love you. It's as simple, and as complicated as that."

"When you're beside me, holding me, touching me, I don't need to believe. I can feel it." Blair smiled sadly up at him. "But out there, it's not so easy."

"Then I'll have to hold you and touch you until it's always in your mind." Jim began to unbutton Blair's shirt.

"Believe me, Big Guy, it is *always* on my mind." Blair didn't object, instead he lay back and let Jim undress him, smiling at the care he took, the gentle caresses and sneaking kisses to bare flesh. By the time he was nude he was hard and straining for Jim.

Jim rose from the bed to undress in front of him, backlit by the light from the living room. Blair watched with hot eyes.

When he was nude he reached to the stereo and hit the FM button, not wondering which station it was set at, pulling out the headphone cord at the same time.

The rich sounds of Rachmaninoff swelled out to fill the small room.

Blair sat up, reaching for him, but Jim slid onto the bed on his side, hand digging under the pillow for what he knew he would find there.

He felt Blair's hesitation when he held the tube back over his hip.

"I think this is what you need to believe." he spoke quietly, with conviction.

There was a moment of silence, even the music seemed to dim.

Then; "Oh, Jim."

Jim released the breath he'd been holding when Blair spooned around him, his hands kneading Jim's ass, massaging gently as he kissed his shoulder, his neck, and down his back.

He had learned to welcome and enjoy the fingers that soon found their way into his tight passage. Blair's hand on his dick made the pleasure throb through him, directly from one hand to the other, it seemed.

He was moaning in time with the pulls on his dick, Blair's three finger stroking counter-rhythm, it felt good.....*too* good.

With a tremendous effort Jim stilled his movements, refusing to give in this time. This time Blair wouldn't push him over that edge.

"Jim?" Blair sounded worried.

"Just...taking a break, Baby. Getting too close..."

"It's okay, lover." he loved the way that word rumbled up from Blair's chest. "Go ahead."

"No...no, Blair. Not this time. This time I want it all."

A kiss to the back of his neck, just below the short hairs. Warm breath there made him shiver.

"Are you sure?"

"I've been sure for weeks." Jim answered quietly, still holding himself in check.

"Okay, lover. You'll get what you want." Blair began kissing his neck again, biting gently and then licking it. Jim groaned when he removed his fingers, but the other hand stayed on his dick, petting soothingly.

"Okay, Big Guy." both of Blair's hands on his ass now, Jim felt the cool slick of gel spread around and inside himself. Then the slightly odd sensation as Blair spread his asscheeks. "I'm gonna do this."

"Oh, Baby." Jim groaned deeply.

It started out easy...the first inch, then two, sliding into him like the most natural thing in the world.

Then there was a sudden, burning pain. Jim couldn't bite back the gasp that rose.

Blair stopped, Jim could feel him holding himself off, his arms tense, hands tight on Jim's ass.

"It's okay, lover. Okay. Just take a deep breath...breathe through it...it will pass..."

Jim did as Blair said, breathed deeply, trying to keep his mind away from the subjects it suddenly wanted to discuss.

*How many people had Blair done this with*?

*What had possessed him to do it the first time*?

*Who* had he done it with the first time*?

Blair's hands began stroking lightly along his flanks, big circles, swirling to his stomach and chest, while he whispered loving words into Jim's ear.

"I love you so much, Jim. I've never loved anyone like this. I want to make love to you, I want to hear you scream my name when I come inside you..."

The words helped as much as the breathing. Soon the pain faded. It didn't disappear entirely, but it became vague, bearable.

Impatiently Jim thrust back toward Blair, taking another couple of inches with the movement. Blair's hands stopped and he reached to cup Jim's balls, the other hand caressing a heavy male breast, finding the flat nipple and teasing it to greater hardness.

""Uhhhhhhhng." Jim moaned. "Blair, Baby, please...."

"You *do* beg pretty." Blair whispered in his ear before biting gently on his shoulder and beginning to move again. "No pain, Jim. There shouldn't be any pain."

"No pain...." Jim gasped in agreement. Even the remnants of it were fading. "Oh, god, *Blair*."

"Feel good?" Blair was pressed all the way in, his body tight to Jim's. "You tell me when you're ready for more."

Panting, Jim nodded. Blair let go of his nipple and brought his hand to Jim's mouth, index finger tracing his parted lips. Jim groaned again and stuck his tongue out, trying to catch the teasing touch. Blair stroked the extended tongue, tiny feather- light circles.

It was too intense. Jim shuddered, then gasped.

"Blair...please, *move*. I'm too - too -"

He'd just been waiting for that sign. Blair began to stroke in and out of Jim smoothly, a not-too-fast-but-fast-enough rhythm, his hand stroking Jim's dick the same way, from base to top and back again.

It felt so good, so hot and tight and decadent...Blair tried to tell Jim.

"It makes me feel so good knowing I'm the first to do this to you. The first to be inside you. I could stay here, just like this, for the rest of my life and be happy." he thrust a little harder, grunting, beginning to pant. "I want to hear you scream Jim. Want to feel you come in my arms, feel it rip right through you..."

Jim's moans were rising in pitch, Blair knew he was close. He pulled his hand from Jim's lips and dropped it beneath the other to cup his balls and squeeze, lightly, the shock of it releasing Jim's orgasm. Blair went with him, listening as Jim screamed at the top of his lungs.

"BLAIRRRRRR!"

He lay plastered to Jim's back, softening inside him, arms wrapped around him.

Jim put his arms over Blair's, held him close, kissed his bicep, the only part of him that was close enough. Blair answered with a kiss to Jim's shoulder.

"Hmmm." Blair sighed and snuggled closer, turning his face to press his cheek to Jim's sweaty skin.

"Thank you, Baby." Jim's whisper startled him, but he was too sated to even move.

"I should be thanking you. No-one's given me that gift before...man or woman."

"I could never be this close to anyone else." Jim sighed, then closed his eyes. "I'd like to just lie here in your arms all night."

"Mmmm, excellent idea." Blair relaxed further.

"Have to work." he was so comfortable that he almost missed Jim's response.

"Undercover?" his eyes flew open in alarm.

"Yeah. We gotta at least try to catch this guy."

"I know." Blair sighed one last time and pulled free, holding his breath. Jim winced. "Hurt?"

"Just - stings." Jim sat, caught Blair to him, brought him back down for a kiss. "Next time we do it face-to-face. I miss kissing you."

"Okay." Blair grinned. "Next time." they kissed deeply and then Jim pulled away, getting up with another little wince.

"Now I understand why you walk like that the morning after." he teased.

"Jim. Around here, every morning is 'the morning after'." Blair walked with him to the bathroom.

"So now we can take turns."

"As long as we don't take turns in the shower." Blair grinned at him as he started the hot water.

"What's *he* doing here?"

Jim heard the whispered sneer, but he was too far away to comment on it, so he just glared at the offender.

Blair saw the look and spread a hand on his back, the action hidden by Jim's frame as Blair hovered behind him in the back of the crowded room, whispering so softly only Jim could hear him.

"It's okay, Big Guy. I'm used to it."

"You help a lot on these cases, Chief. They should give you the credit you deserve." Jim hissed it harshly, keeping the conversation between the two of them.

"Hey. Who you angry with, man? Me or them?" the hand rubbed gentle circles. Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Me, Chief. I'm mad at myself...we should have handled this differently. I should have..."

"What? Announced to everyone that you'd beat up the first bully that teased me? This isn't gradeschool, Jim. I'm an adult and I have to deal with it myself."

"But you're..."

He was interrupted by the door slamming as Simon came in.

"I don't have to tell any of you that this has become high profile." the captain began. There were several groans and stoic faces, Jim's among them. "This is a murder case, men. Not the place to air your personal opinions." the look he swept the room with was hard, but his face lightened slightly when he spied Blair, wide blue eyes watching from behind Jim. "The Cascade PD has a long history of utilizing civilian assistance wherever that assistance can save a life or solve a crime. I shouldn't have to remind any of you that a civilian consultant is to be treated with the same respect as a fellow officer."

He paused. Jim straightened slightly, looking the room over.

"We've got three nights out here and three bars to cover. Let's get this guy." Simon said.

The team broke into groups of three. One to play the bait, the other two as backup.

Simon caught up to Blair and Jim outside, as they headed for the club they were taking.

"I assigned myself to you." he said, his voice daring Jim to argue with him.

"Thanks." Jim meant it, but the words came hard. "I was afraid everyone else would find reasons not to."

"Give them some time, Ellison. It's hard for some of them to accept. You know how it is."

They climbed into Jim's truck, Jim driving.

"Yeah, I know. They start wondering about the times in the gym, working out together, in the showers..."

Blair grinned.

"Well, if they weren't looking, it was their loss."

"You're not helping." Jim couldn't resist that smile, though.

"I think it's more if-supercop-Jim-Ellison-can-be-gay-then- it-could-even-happen-to-me." Simon said it with a straight face. Blair snickered and Jim coughed.

"Supercop?!" Blair seemed to be choking.

Simon got serious when they arrived at the lookout position. He fitted Jim with the wire carefully. Blair settled his headphones on like a pro.

"I wish you'd let me go with you." he said one last time.

"This guy doesn't want a couple, Baby. He's looking for single men."

"But Jim - you're not single anymore."

Simon rolled his eyes and turned away as the two of the pressed close, liplocked.

Jim released Blair with a glow of satisfaction.

"No, I'm not."

"Can we please get to work here?" Simon turned back and asked, his frustration evident.

"You know, you really need to work on your blood pressure." Blair began to lecture as he climbed into the truck and Jim walked off. "I could teach you some meditation techniques that would help...."

"Leave the captain alone, Sandburg." Jim's voice was scratchy over the tiny mike, but clear.

"Only because you asked me to, Big Guy." Blair replied in a whisper. Though this wasn't a test, he was curious to see how well Jim could hear over the mike in the crowded atmosphere of the club.

"I think it's time to head out." they both heard Jim's yawn. "Most everybody's gone."

He got up and staggered slightly, playing the part. He really hadn't drank much at all, wandering the club, setting his glasses down and conveniently forgetting them, going back and ordering others so it seemed like he'd been drinking steadily.

He'd been hit on at least a hundred times. His quiet "Sorry, I have a partner." had been generally well accepted. But he noticed the glances at his bare fingers.

"There's no activity I can see, Jim." Simon said. "The others have all finished up for the night -" he didn't sound happy about that "- you may as well head out."

It took Jim ten minutes to reach their position. Simon left for his own car and they went home.

"You haven't been talking to Trade much lately." Jim said, raising his head to stare down at Blair. He'd been resting, his ear to Blair's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I got him a partial scholarship for next fall, dependent on his SAT scores." Blair answered with a curious glance. "I figured I've done my part. He needs to concentrate on Skill."

Jim lay his head back down.

Blair watched him for a long time before he fell asleep.

They had been working the undercover op for six days. Jim was convinced the attack had been a one-time thing, a spur-of-the -moment impulse act.

"Or they got scared and left town." he suggested as he left them on the seventh night, trying to reassure Blair. In the effort to remain inconspicuous Simon had been forced to park further away from the club every night. This time he'd chosen a spot on the other side of a warehouse.

When Jim would have pulled away from the window Blair caught his chin with strong fingers and pulled him back for a long kiss. This case had seriously cut into their sex life, but now he was just worried.

"I'll be fine, Baby." Jim whispered as he pulled away. "Trust me."

"Always." Blair answered just loud enough for him to hear.

"You know, I never realized it, but you can see a lot more stars on this side of town." simon commented teasingly, ostentatiously looking out his window and sighing theatrically.

It was another quiet night. As he left the club Jim complained quietly to Simon.

"I really don't think there's anything here, captain. Maybe we should turn this over to the feds."

Blair grimaced. Jim, like most cops, resented it when the feds took over a case...but Jim wanted these guys caught badly enough to rise above that.

"We'll give it one more night." Simon agreed. The words brought a smile to Blair's face. He craned his neck, as if he could see over the building that blocked his view of the club.

Jim had to walk across the street, turn, cut through an alley, turn again, and he would be with him again.

Blair had timed it in his head, estimating how long it would take him.

After ten minutes he knew it was too long.

"Simon." he said, sounding frightened and angry at the same time. "He should be here by now."

They couldn't reach him with the radio he wore - it might tip off their bad guy, it Jim had met him.

"What do you want?" Jim's voice was suddenly loud and angry in their ears. Blair and Simon were out of the truck in ten seconds, Blair taking the lead. As they rounded the first corner Simon caught his arm and yanked him back.

"Sandburg! You don't even have a gun!"

Jim was struggling with someone now. They could hear it clearly. Then Jim howled suddenly, a high pained cry.

"JIM!" Blair was past Simon, moving at warp 9.9, a speed Simon had never, would never achieve.

The attacker was lying on the concrete, out cold.

Jim was sitting, leaning over, face hidden in his hands. Blair kneeled beside him, Simon checking the body.

The alley reeked of gasoline . Picking up a large watering can, Simon sniffed it.

"Doesn't take a sentinel to know we've got the right guy here."

Blair ignored him, too worried about Jim to respond.

Jim wasn't answering him, wasn't moving. He was so tightly focused...Blair had to find what had distracted him so.

He touched Jim's shirt, found the collar sodden with gas.

"He missed most of you." he whispered to his sentinel.

Jim felt like he was being drug out of a warm bed on a rainy Monday morning.

"Jim, you gotta listen to me, man...that gas overloaded you, it's gonna start hurting any minute now, let me get you home."

"It burned, Blair." Jim's voice was small.

"How are your eyes? Your sense of smell?"

Jim seemed to be hovering somewhere between reality and a zone. Blair wondered which way his words would tip him.

"You need to stay here, Big Guy. Here with me. We'll get you cleaned up and you'll be able to breathe again." he said as he noticed the shallow, short breaths Jim was taking. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Strong square hands ran over Jim's body, skimming, searching for signs of damage. Jim shuddered slightly.

Blair sat back, looking at Jim's eyes.

They had the faraway, slightly glazed look of a zone, but his hand was holding Blair's, he was aware that his guide was here, if only peripherally.

Blair sat on the wet ground beside him. He heard Simon on the handheld behind him.

"We've got to get him out of here before they show up and somebody starts asking questions."

Simon came over, leaned to look at Jim.

"Is he having a zone-out?"

"Not exactly...I don't know what this is, Simon. I've never seen him do this before." Blair's frustration was obvious in is voice.

"Take it easy, Sandburg. I know it would be easier if you got an instruction manual with the job."

Blair blinked at Simon. Had that been a joke?

Simon gave him a small smile.

"It's been so long since anyone documented a Sentinel-Guide relationship...the last one must have forgotten to make copies."

Blair found a small grin to cover his worry.

"Jim? Come on, man, we've got to get you to the truck..." Blair got under one shoulder and Simon under the other. Jim cooperated and they found that they didn't have to carry him, he walked slowly, but Blair had to steer him.

"We seem to do a lot of this." Blair commented. "He's not zoned, but I don't know where he is." he sounded frustrated. "Sometimes I just don't know what I'm doing here, Simon."

"You always figure it out." Simon encouraged. "That's what you're good at, Sandburg.

Jim sat in the truck, Blair beside him, behind the steering wheel. Simon left the scene to come over and check on them.

"How is he?"

"No change." Blair's hand rested on Jim's leg, idly stroking. Every few minutes he spoke to his partner, urging him to return to reality.

"You may as well get out of here. I'll leave the paperwork on his desk. He can do it tomorrow."

Blair didn't comment, but his face tightened.

"He'll be fine by tomorrow, Blair." Simon said, and he sounded like he meant it. "I'm sure of it. Can you get him home okay?"

"Yeah, as long as I don't have to carry him." Blair started the truck. He'd buckled Jim in earlier.

"I'll call tonight." Simon patted the door. "Get along."

"Thanks, Simon."

Jim sat still the whole way home. He didn't speak, didn't move. Blair parked, got the door open, tugged on him, and Jim followed.

He almost walked into the stair railing and Blair concentrated harder on getting him up to the loft, steering him awkwardly.

It was early morning, and very quiet. He heard a door open and somebody said something, a neighbor, he guessed, but he didn't look to see who.

"Here ya go, Big Guy. Step in." Blair lifted Jim's leg by the knee and got him to step into the tub, warm water already spraying down. Jim liked really hot showers, but he would need to stay in for a while this time and Blair didn't want it to go cold. It was just more evidence that Jim wasn't really there that he didn't even protest.

Blair squeezed liquid soap onto his hands and began washing his friend, starting with delicately going over his face and head, figuring it was pretty much the same thing as shampoo, changing the angle of the spray to rinse him before continuing. Stroking, massaging his muscles, which weren't all that tense, across his chest, ignoring the urge to tease the hardening nipples, fingers tracing cut stomach muscles, around the genitals and down the legs...

Blair looked down. Jim was hard and getting harder.

He looked up. His eyes were still not-quite-there.

*Hmmmmm.* Blair dropped to his knees, hands going to Jim's groin.

He soaped Jim's cock and stroked. It stirred in his hands.

Blair stood, making a decision.

"If I can't bring you back with my voice, Big Guy, then maybe with my body."

He finished washing Jim and got him rinsed. Out of the shower, into a bathsheet, and then upstairs to the bed.

Jim still wasn't responding.

Blair turned him on his side and cuddled up close, his partially erect cock nestled in the cleft of Jim's ass, as close as he could get without being inside him, arms around him, wet hair trailing over Jim's broad shoulders, hands playing with his cock and nipples.

"So here we are, Big Guy. Safe at home, in our bed, naked and warm and willing...you going to come back now? I got all the gasoline out of your eyes, it's off your skin, and the clothes are in the washer...." Blair kissed his shoulder, biting gently, then tickling with the tip of his tongue. "I know you want me, I can feel it, but I'm not gonna do anything until you tell me to."

He was quiet for long minutes, wondering at the lack of fear he felt. This should terrify him, but he wasn't even scared. Somewhere inside himself he knew this was temporary, that Jim would come back when he was ready.

"I guess that gas overloaded you and you're protecting yourself from the pain." he theorized. "It's okay now, it's gone, no harm done, you can come back and make love to me."

"I'd rather you made love to me." the gentle whisper caught him by surprise and Blair gasped, surging up and over Jim to stare into his eyes.

Eyes that stared back, a little uncertain, but filled with love.

"Jesus, Jim, that was weird." Blair sighed deeply as Jim rolled to his back and pulled Blair on top of him.

"It wasn't like a zone out." Jim said, hand reaching to stroke Blair's hair, grinning as Blair rubbed into it, so much like a cat, eyes closing briefly. "I wasn't focused on anything but *not* feeling the pain."

Blair opened his eyes.

"Maybe that's how you do it." he switched abruptly to scientist mode. The change made Jim chuckle. "But you went too far -- instead of just not feeling the pain, you didn't feel anything."

"Yeah. It was kind of like that." Jim agreed. He gathered Blair into his arms and drew him down close. "That's why a Sentinel needs a Guide."

"Even a Guide who leaves laundry on the floor, cooks weird food and is the wrong sex?" Blair met his eyes as he asked, his tone light but the question serious. "A Guide who looses control of his life and makes you pick up the pieces?"

"If he can put up with a Sentinel who yells when he gets angry, is positively anal about his house rules and lets his Guide get into that condition in the first place." Jim kissed him on the tip of his nose. Blair moved his head and their lips met.

"Ahh." Jim pulled back long enough to ask one more question. "So we're okay, right?"

"It's still new, we're still learning...I'd say we're better than okay." Blair answered. He slid against Jim, once, twice. "And this has never been just 'okay'."

"No shit." Jim groaned. "Oh, Baby."

"Easy, Jim." Blair kissed him, open-mouthed, then pulled away and slid down his body in a long caress. "We've got all night."