Cop Games

Putting the breakfast dishes on the table, Jim watched his partner ease into the chair, his whole body unnaturally stiff. "Morning, Chief? You feeling okay?"

"I'm fine, Jim." Training his begging eyes on the coffee, he spoke almost in a reverent hush. "Oh, man. I really need this. Thanks." He wrapped both hands around the steaming cup and sipped with his eyes closed, his forehead wrinkled in concentration.

Jim settled in the seat across from his friend and watched, his senses on high gear. Something about Blair's behavior triggered alarm bells. "Don't you have some kind of big test today?"

The groan surprised him. "Don't remind me. Dr. Davis is having all the grad students in for some kind of applications in writing session or some such bullshit, like I don't have anything better to do than scribble at his mid-life crisis I don't even have a life whim."

"Jesus, Sandburg, take a breath."

"I'm sorry, man, but these power games some guys play just to feel important really get on my nerves." Rubbing his temple, he drank the rest of the coffee and then got up for more.

"So, is this Davis guy doing that?"

"Oh, yeah, like you wouldn't believe. He's got this hard on to prove he can make us do whatever he wants to prove he's in charge." He waved a dismissive hand as he took another long drink. "Don't worry though. I've got it covered. Give me my laptop and I can put out faster than any grad on campus."

"Put out, Chief? Is that what Davis is really after?"

"Funny, Jim. You know what I mean. Give me a break. It's still dark outside. Still way too much lag time between brain and tongue."

After a few bites of scrambled eggs, Jim casually threw out the question he'd been holding in reserve. "So, what time did you get in last night, Chief?"

"Like you don't know."

"What?"

"You heard me."

He did know, but the challenge in the tone caught him off guard. "What are you saying, Sandburg? You think I'm monitoring your personal life a little too closely or something?"

"Aren't you?" Blair leaned back against the counter, his bloodshot eyes a bit unfocused but aimed his way. "Are you trying to say you don't know that I just got in about five?"

"Five? As in five A.M. as in just two hours ago?"

Doubt clouded his friend's tired features. "You mean you really didn't hear me come in?"

Taking a deep breath, his concern only flirting with anger, he put his napkin down and leaned back in his chair. "Why would I have asked if I already knew, Chief? More importantly, why the hell are you staying up all night and then going out again without any sleep?"

"I'm sorry, man. You know sometimes you play these cop games of asking questions when you already know the answer. I thought that's what you were doing because you knew I came in so late without calling."

"Cop games? I don't do that."

"Sure you do."

"When?"

"Well, you do it at the station all the time."

"I'm not talking about the station. I'm talking about just you and me. You think I play cop games between us?"

Blair put the mug down and sat back down at the table, his face strained. "I'm sorry, Jim. I don't know why I said that. It was stupid." Rubbing his face with both hands, he stopped and looked down at his palms. "Man, I can't believe I forgot to shave. Damn. I don't have time for this."

Frowning, still on cop mode, Jim kept digging. "You're avoiding the question. How are you supposed to stay out all night, go to the station this morning, and then spend the afternoon in some writing test without falling on your ass before the end of the day? This is the third night in a week you've done this, and last week wasn't much better. What's going on?"

Blair shook his head, his voice defensive. "See, man, I knew you'd been keeping count."

"Hell, yes, I'm keeping count. You're my partner. How can you do a good job at anything if you're too tired to function? I just don't get the point of wearing yourself out. I sure hope she's worth it."

"Who?"

"Whoever you're dating." Blair stood up and headed down the hallway. "Chief?"

He stopped for just a moment before he spoke, his face still turned away, the words sharp barbs catching sentinel skin. "Whoever I'm seeing, Jim, it's none of your damn business." Stepping into the bathroom, the door slammed shut and clicked with a deliberate turn of the lock.

Jim Ellison sat stunned, his hearing suddenly blanked. Several moments later, sound returned and he heard the rush of running water, his friend's self-deprecating curses loud to hypersensitive ears. "God, I'm so stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Jim's going to kill me. Shit." The sound of flesh and bone hitting the wall brought him up out of his chair.

"Blair, what the hell's going on in there?"

The water shut off and his friend's familiar voice answered while his heartbeat raced as a background beat. "Nothing, man. Just slipped, that's all. I'll be out in a minute."

"Open the door." He jiggled the knob, seriously tempted to break through without waiting.

"Look, just go on to the station without me. I'll be there right behind you."

"No way, Chief. Now, get this fucking door open before I kick it down."

"Jesus, man, hold up."

As soon the door opened and he saw his partner's hand, he shook his head. "What the hell did you just do, Chief?"

"I think it's okay. Really" The winces between breaths didn't fill the words with any conviction.

"Let me see." Taking his guide's hand in his, he gently ran his fingertips over the bruised knuckles, the swelling already making it more difficult to feel the bone beneath abused tissue.

"Well?"

"It's not broken, but I'll bet it hurts like hell. What did you think you were doing? Fighting the wall?"

"I'm sorry, man. I've just been a little irritable lately."

"No damn kidding. Sleep deprivation will do that."

"Don't start, Jim." Clearing his throat, he added, "Hey, Jim, man, I think it's going to be okay now."

"What?"

"You can let go, man."

Looking down he realized he still tenderly stroked his partner's injured hand, the tissue warm and darkening along the bony ridges. The long fingers rested like tethers of hope to his palm.

Swallowing hard, he fought to keep the blush from his face as he released him and stepped back. "Oh, sorry."

"No problem, man."

"You should put some ice on that."

"Don't have time, Jim. Come on. Let me get my stuff and we can head to the station. We need to get you ready for the Grimes hearing this afternoon."

"God, I hate court appearances." His voice softer, almost pleading, he added. "I wish you could come with me, Chief."

"Sorry, man. Even if I didn't have Davis's power dance to attend, I'd skip out on that little party. Court days suck, man."

"Yeah, pretty much."

As Blair stepped into the bedroom to get his backpack, Jim shook his head and wiped the oily sweat off his forehead. The tingle of holding that perfectly formed, strong hand went straight to his crotch. Ducking quickly into the bathroom, he hid until he could control himself, before Blair had another good reason to curse his interference in his private affairs.

The traffic zigged far worse than usual as Jim focused on getting to the station without a major case of road rage. He finally stopped at the light and studied his unusually silent partner. The stiff posture and quiet made him nervous.

"So, Chief, you want to tell me what that little bit of one-sided pugilism in the bathroom was about earlier?"

"Not particularly. I hit the wall and it didn't bother to hit back. Just forget about it."

"Blair, I'm the one usually throwing the frustrated punches. What's going on with you lately?"

"Nothing, man. I'm just tired. Leave it alone."

"I'd like to, but when you start attacking defenseless walls, somebody's got to step in."

"Yeah, right. The light's green. Drive, man."

"We're going, but I'm not through yet, Sandburg." He navigated the road, his attention constantly divided between idiot drivers wearing down his already tenuous patience and his partner. Finally he decided to break the silence. "Why don't you start by telling me about the new woman in your life? I know she's the reason for you being out so late, but is there something else you need to tell me?"

Blair's dark blue eyes stared out the window while he spoke, his voice soft but steady. "Why the fascination with my love life all of a sudden? The last few times I've mentioned people, you pretty much made it clear you don't want to hear about it. Why the change of heart, man?"

"This seems different somehow, Chief."

"Different how?"

"For some reason, I get the feeling something's not quite right here. Usually when you get lucky, you come in tired but happy, wearing that goofy grin with your I just got laid face, but not lately."

Blair glanced over, stunned. "My what face?"

"You heard me, and don't change the subject. Lately you've dragged in and looked about as happy as a bear with a loaded gun to its head. Tell me if I'm wrong."

"You are way off base here, Jim. Way off. Who I see and whether I get laid or not is none of your business. I don't ask you about what you do in your bed, do I?"

"But I'm only sleeping."

"That's not the fucking point and you know it. It's not my fault you don't have a social life worth shit. It's not like half the women in the precinct, hell, the whole damn city, don't fall all over themselves trying to get your attention."

"You're exaggerating, Chief."

"I am not."

"Look, folks flirt all the time. You of all people know about that."

Angrily, Blair shifted in his seat, his voice suddenly tense. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Look, don't get pissed. I just meant you're the biggest flirt in Major Crimes. Everybody knows that."

"Everybody meaning?"

"Everybody, Chief."

Frowning, but shrugging, he conceded the point. "All right, so I flirt some. What's your point?"

"I'm just worried. You've been moody as hell ever since you went out the night I had that stakeout with Brown. Usually you give me all the sordid details whether I act like I'm interested or not, but not this time. Just the opposite, in fact."

"I told you why."

"I don't think so. You're talking to a cop here. I deal with evasive and suspicious behavior all the time, Chief, and if I had your ass in a lineup for most likely to be hiding something, you'd be picked number one suspect. Now, there's something wrong and if it's not who you're dating, then it must be something going on at school or the station that you're not telling me about."

"Man, I so do not believe this conversation.

Turning into the police garage, Jim headed to his usual spot, all the while staying alert to the uneasy shifting beside him. "Believe it, Sandburg. What's going on?"

As soon as he parked the car, Blair shook his head, his right hand busy pushing back a rebel curl. "You know what I was saying earlier about cop games?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I really hate this Detective Ellison's investigation routine."

"Excuse me?"

"Jim, you're asking about things that aren't any of your business."

His belly stung from the hurtful bite, his words hard to steady. "You're my partner and my best friend. Don't I have a right to be worried if I think there's a problem?"

"Look if you can't back off, then maybe I should start looking for another place to stay. I'm a grown man, for christsakes. I deserve some privacy."

Jim only heard the one line. "You'd move out?"'

"I need a little breathing room, Jim. I don't like coming in feeling like I've been cheating on you because I'm trying to have some kind of social intercourse."

"It's not the social intercourse that causes the problem, Chief."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Sounds like I'm not the only moody son of a bitch going into work today, man."

As Blair reached over to open the door, Jim grabbed his left arm and held him in the seat for a moment longer. His fingers registered the immediate flinch, the sudden twist away from his touch. Worse, he sensed the swollen, damaged flesh. A sickening swarmed his chest as he pulled back to watch his friend's reaction to his next question. "How'd you hurt your arm, Chief?"

Staying put, Blair rubbed through the heavy flannel shirt and jacket. "I'm not hurt, man. You just scared me."

He motioned his head at the arm. "Okay, then. You want to push up that sleeve and show me you don't have some serious bruising there?"

"It's not that bad. Besides, how can you tell that?" The whole time he spoke, his partner looked away, his eyes never lifting to meet his.

"I'm a sentinel. Remember?" When his friend didn't answer, he asked again. "What happened?"

"I ran into a wall that's all. I was talking and the next thing I know, I just missed the door."

"Missed the door?"

"Yeah."

"And that's your story?"

"Look, just let it drop, Jim. I'm too tired to deal with all this right now."

"Fine, Sandburg. But don't think for a moment I buy that piece of fiction." When Blair didn't respond right away, he flipped past the puzzle of his friend's actions and went back to his other concern. His voice softened as he spoke, his words slick with his heart's fearful beating. "I'm sorry, Chief. I don't want you to even think I want you to leave the loft. It's your home. I know you need your privacy, but it's just hard sometimes to stop being a cop."

"I know. It's what you do."

"You'll stay then?"

"Yeah. I'd like to." The words came out hoarse, barely over a whisper.

"Just tell me what I'm sensing is wrong, that you're really okay, and I won't bother you about it again."

Taking a deep breath, Blair nodded, his eyes still avoiding Jim's while he spoke. "I'm fine, man. Nothing I can't handle. Honest."

"All right then. I'll accept that."

Blair looked around at all the people giving a wide berth to the still occupied vehicle, their covert glances almost amusing. "So, I guess we should get out of the truck before we start some nasty rumors, huh?"

"Nothing new in rumors around this place, Chief. Everybody knows we're a couple anyway."

Smiling for the first time, Blair played the game. "A couple of what, Jim?"

"A couple of clowns who are going to get their sorry asses kicked by Simon Banks if we don't move a little faster."

"And I so do not need my ass kicked anymore today." Climbing out of the truck and shouldering his backpack to his right, Blair pointed at the stairwell. "I'll meet you up there, man. I need a pit stop." Slamming the door, the younger man didn't slow down for an answer.

Waiting until his partner started upstairs, Jim watched and shook his head. "Damn it, Chief. What the hell are you hiding?" Every cop instinct screamed to dig deeper, while his heart told him he needed to step very lightly or risk losing the man he needed to survive. Taking a deep breath, he got out and went to work, thinking trust had never been very easy.

"So, Jim, you ready for court?"

"I guess."

Simon Banks looked up from his file, his attention suddenly focused. "You guess?"

Jim closed his case book and sat back, his mind still too cluttered with worst case scenarios to explain his friend's disturbing behavior. "I've been over this a dozen times with the DA, sir. I know the drill."

"So, why do I get the feeling putting Grimes behind bars isn't at the top of your priority list just this minute?"

Rubbing his forehead, Jim paused and then shook his head. "It's nothing, Simon." He picked up his cup and glanced over at his captain's private coffee maker, the scent of the most recent special blend a teasing comfort to his pounding headache. "You think I could get another taste of that?"

"Sure. And what's nothing?" He stood and brought the carafe to the table, pouring a full serving.

"You know how I hate court. I sit there for hours just waiting to say a few minutes of testimony. There's so many other things I could be doing."

"It's part of the job."

"I know that. Doesn't make it easier though." He tasted the brew, the rich flavor spiced with slightest hint of mint relaxing to his tongue. "Thanks. This is really good."

"Yeah, my ex-brother-in-law does a great job playing with the combinations." Simon sat back down before he spoke again. "Now, do you want to tell me why you're so worried about your partner?"

"What?" Jim's head jerked up in surprise, his coffee barely reaching the table without making a mess.

"Well, obviously you're upset about something. Ever since you got here this morning, you've been watching him like he's about ready to burst into flames. Put that with you've been as distracted as hell the last few weeks and I sum it up to you're worried about Sandburg. So, what gives?"

"Damn, Simon, you'll make a pretty decent cop some day."

"My dream come true." He drank another long drink before he prompted again. "You going to tell me or is it a secret?"

"To Blair it is."

"Yeah?"

"He's dating someone he doesn't want me to know about and he's staying out all night."

"And this is your business because?"

"You've seen him lately. What do you think?"

Pausing for a moment, the captain nodded. "Yeah, well, he has been looking pretty ragged. I just thought it was because it's only a little over a week before Christmas and the end of the semester along with the heavy case load. Now you tell me he's actually got a sex life? Damn. I'm surprised the kid can even stand."

"It's not funny, Simon."

"Yeah, I can see that, Jim. Even so, I may call him kid, but he's a grown man. He can take care of his own affairs."

"So he keeps telling me." He played with the edges of the file, replaying the conversation in the truck, the terrible awareness that his guide carried bruises. A slight shudder caught him off guard and he pulled himself upright, fighting down the black wave of emotion crashing through him.

"Jim? You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just I've got a really bad feeling about this."

"How bad?" The gravely voice lowered, the concern weighting the words.

Jim paused only a moment before he answered, the confidence a shared burden. "He got angry and hurt his hand hitting the wall this morning. Then later I found his arm has bruises and he lied about how it happened."

"How do you know he lied?"

"Same way I know Brown's lying when he says he didn't eat the last doughnut. I just know."

"Damn." Rubbing his face in frustration, Simon leaned in closer before he spoke. "What are you trying to say here, Jim? You think he's hurting himself on purpose?"

"This morning maybe. Last night I think it was somebody else."

"That doesn't make any sense unless maybe he was mugged or assaulted and didn't tell anyone. I don't see the kid doing that."

"He might if he were embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?"

Jim shook his head, his mind working through the clues, the pictures forming not pleasant. "What if this person he's dating's abusive. A guy wouldn't want to admit that."

"But Blair wouldn't stay with a woman like that would he? I mean, has he ever said or done anything that might make you suspect that before now?"

"Samantha." The name conjured up a bad taste, a bitter potion poisoning his very air. The name made him want to punch his own fist through a wall. "She about blew his face off in the lab. He wasn't hurt, but she's also pretty aggressive and controlling. The more rough she was, the more he seemed to want to be with her."

Simon cleared his throat before he spoke. "Rough? Jim, do I really want to hear the rest of this and then ask how you know?"

"Nothing direct, just a few hints here and there. Most of all, he's never tried to hide who he's dating. Now, all of a sudden he's secretive. It's not like him and it's got me worried."

"And distracted as hell. Uhm, well, maybe you're just over reacting. I mean, despite all his general craziness, the kid has a pretty good head on his shoulders. I really don't think there's anything too serious going on. Besides, give him a few more weeks and he'll move on to someone else to play with. You know, Sandburg. Always roaming."

Grimacing at the image, Jim shook his head. "I guess I could handle him being secretive, if he just wouldn't lie."

"Last I heard, he doesn't call it lying. Obfuscation's the word. And I hate to say this, but that part's nothing new."

"Whatever you call it, I hate it."

Simon took another long drink before he spoke, this time his words a little more deliberate. "Just try not to carry the big brother routine too far, Jim. He'll be all right. In the meantime, I've got a different problem, but it still concerns Sandburg."

"What problem?"

"Are you two coming to the Children's Benefit show again?"

Jim closed his eyes briefly, the image of the last year's Christmas program too vivid for the light. "You want him to sing, right."

"He's got a beautiful voice and it's for a good cause. His version of "O Holy Night" last year blew me away."

"Yeah, me, too." He remembered the powerful voice surging, the physical charge in his body at hearing his partner's voice lifted in song. He also recalled being left alone afterwards, the sense of emptiness numbed by spiked eggnog and whiskey, while Blair went to spend the evening with Samantha. God, it had been an incredibly long holiday season without his friend beside him.

"So, do you think you can convince him to do it again? Everybody keeps asking me so they can advertise."

"I'll ask, but I don't see why it should be a problem. The proceeds go to charity and he said he didn't mind last time."

"Good, because there's this nurse who works over there at the Safe House who has really been begging. She's called three times this week."

"All I can do is ask. He hasn't told me his plans yet."

"And what about yours?"

"My what?"

Simon frowned as he picked up his cigar, working with precision to light it while he still kept his eyes on Jim. "Your plans for Christmas, Jim. You going to work double shifts again or take time off like most of us folks with seniority?"

"Doesn't much matter. Christmas hasn't ever meant much to me. Might as well let the guys with family have the day."

Simon nodded, his eyes staring off. "If I remember right, didn't you and Carolyn have your first big fight about that?"

"The first of many, I'm afraid." He thought back to the hurt expression, her tears of both anger and frustration as he'd walked off to work. For just a moment the twinge of connection to his ex-wife's heartache resurfaced as relived his partner's desertion the previous year. God, he'd been a sorry excuse for a husband.

"So, you and Blair don't do anything together?

"Not really." He avoided looking up, refused to admit he wanted this year to be different. Glancing down at his watch, he worked at misdirection. "Guess I'd better head over to the courthouse."

"Sure." Simon paused a moment before he added. "Jim, you know you could always come over and spend some time with Daryl and me for the holidays. We're going to my parents place Christmas day, but they'd love to have you. Blair, too, if he'll come."

Jim shrugged and headed for the door. "Thanks, Simon. I just think the old work until it's finally over tradition will do fine. Appreciate the offer though."

"No problem. Let me know if you change your mind. My mom cooks enough for the whole damn precinct once she gets started. Besides, you'd be doing me a favor."

"How's that?"

Leaning back in his chair, his cigar smoking up the room, he chuckled. "Once she gets a load of Blair's skinny ass, she'll stop stuffing turkey and gravy at me."

"Blair's not skinny."

"Jim, compared to us, he's a stick. Now, my mom sees the kid, and she's got the potatoes and extra stuffing aimed in another direction. I mean, damn, I gained five pounds last year."

Jim grinned at his captain's mock complaints. "I'll ask him, but don't get your hopes up. You'd better start fasting."

"Yeah, right." Waving his hand toward the door, he added, "Now go do your best to get a conviction for Grimes."

"Yes, sir."

As he walked out the door, he worked to block the image of stuffing Blair's ass with something better than turkey and gravy. Clenching his jaw, Jim shook his head and muttered to himself. "God, I hate fucking Christmas."

"Hey, Detective Ellison. Hold up a minute."

Glad to be finished with testifying, Jim turned to see a lean, well-muscled man of about forty headed his way. He shook his head as he thought of another thing he hated about court dates, lawyers. "What do you want, Raddison?"

Walking up beside him, Raddison shifted his briefcase to his left hand. "It's been awhile since the Bellows case. Just thought I'd ask how you liked Major Crimes. I've heard a lot of good things about you lately."

"Cut the bullshit and tell me what you really want."

Tilting his head, totally unmiffed, Raddison smiled. "You still don't hold a very high opinion of me, do you, Detective."

"You were responsible for getting a guy acquitted who should've been in prison. In my opinion, people who do that should at least have to take their places behind bars."

"Really?" The tone sounded amused, almost bored. Then, his face turned more serious as he stepped one space closer. Jim forced himself not to back away. "Listen, Ellison, I didn't come here to play bait the lawyer. I just wanted to ask about your partner."

Every alarm went off at once. "What about my partner?"

Glancing around to check the low-traffic rear hallway, Raddison then looked at Jim as he spoke quietly. "It's just that I wondered what he was doing with Richards. I mean, I know last time I saw him here with you, he told me he was doing that paper on cops, but Richards isn't exactly the best guy to study if you ask me. And if it's something else, well, he just needs to be careful."

"Richards?"

Studying Jim's face for a moment, Raddison frowned. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Look, Ellison, I know we've had our differences. Hell, I know you hate my guts, but your partner's hanging out with the vice hotdog Tim Richards and I just thought I'd warn you that the guy's real trouble." Searching for words hiding behind a swarm of red, Jim found speaking painful. He worked to keep the strained words even. "What kind of trouble are you talking about?"

"He's had two restraining orders put out against him in the last two years, both from ex-lovers."

"What are you saying, the guy's abusive? He's a cop. They'd take his badge."

Raddison snorted. "Oh, please, Ellison. Cops are some of my best clients. You know as well as I do, it's almost impossible to get a cop's job unless he actually kills somebody. Too many loopholes."

"Which you use."

"Of course." Raddison hardly missed a beat as he kept on telling his story. "But this Richards doesn't just lose his temper because of some job stress like most of the people I represent. No, this is one mean bastard who likes to harass the guys who have the audacity to try to leave him."

"Guys?"

"Didn't I mention that? Richards is one of the new breed. Doesn't care if people knows he's gay. Doesn't spread it around, but doesn't hide it either. Vice is a lot more open than it used to be, so nobody says much like they might have a few years ago. He's got a good arrest record, but he works alone when he does the bar scene. Plus, I'm not supposed to know this, but there are all kinds of rumors about corruption. I'd talk to my partner about being more careful, Ellison."

The lawyer shook his head, speaking quietly as he stood a little straighter. "I'm really surprised you haven't heard of him. I mean, my god, he could be your kid clone or something. Same looks only younger. Same badass attitude. Even wears an earring like the one you used to when you first left vice."

Raddison's heart beat and other vital signs never increased or showed any unusual changes. Standing there staring at a man telling the truth he wanted no part of, Jim found it very hard to not to punch out his arrogant face. Instead, he spoke in a raspy hush, the words like dry stones in the dusty summer creek bed. "So, why are you telling me this? How do you know Sandburg's seeing this Richards guy?"

"I'm telling you this because unlike you, I don't hold a grudge. I saw your partner at Soldier's Wednesday night when I was meeting with a client."

"You meet your clients in gay clubs?"

"Stop being an asshole, Ellison, and listen. At first I thought it was you, but when I saw who it really was, I remembered the paperwork on his cases. I only met Sandburg a few times, but he's an okay guy. I just don't know if he's savvy enough to really know what he's getting into. I thought I'd warn you for his sake, not yours. If he's doing research, he just needs to be careful, because this Richards is one dangerous son of a bitch. Of course, if I ever have to testify, I'll deny I ever said that."

Swallowing back his desire to ask more questions, Jim just nodded, his forehead deep-creased. "I'll talk to him and find out what's going on." Clearing his throat, trying not to choke, he added. "Thanks."

He nodded with a very small smile, his words razor-sharp and taunting. "I could tell that really hurt like hell to say."

Hurt didn't come close to describing the ripping heart sounds, the spiritual blood streaming through his fisted fingers. Holding himself together, his jaw clenched, he walked away. In the back of his mind he saw his guide leaving, traveling to some exotic land and taking his captured soul as a trophy.

Jim ignored the looks of the passersby as he growled on his way to see his partner. "I'm too late. Jesus, this can't be happening."

"Man, this really sucks."

Jim entered Blair's office, the door already open. "What the hell happened here?"

Turning in surprise, Blair held his hand up to his chest, startled. "Damn. You scared me. Jim, what are you doing here?"

Staring at the chaos which used to be his partner's workspace, he shook his head. "Looks like someone was a little pissed, Chief. What's going on?"

Nervously, Blair went over and shut the door before he stooped to pick up another stack of scattered books. Jim listened while he came to help him, the papers and journals littered all around. "Someone broke in while I was doing the thing with Professor Davis. The worse part is the computer. The hard drive's crashed."

"You've got back ups?"

"Yeah, of course, but it still means hours and hours of start up and reinstalling after I've checked it for viruses." He put one pile of materials on the shelf and then stopped to scan the room, file cabinets over turned, broken artifacts, and torn books everywhere. "This is a real mess, man."

Jim sat the collected articles on Blair's desk before he spoke, his voice with a leveled softness. "So, do you think it's Richards?"

The catch in his breathing along with his rapid heart beat both signaled his friend's shock. "Shit." After a few deep breaths, he asked more calmly, "How'd you find out?"

"Doesn't matter. I wish you'd told me both about Richards and that you date men, but we can talk about that later. Do you think it's him?"

Righting the chair, Blair slumped down and nodded. He rubbed his face hard with both hands several times before he finally spoke, his voice shaky. "Oh, yeah, not much doubt of that. He pretty much told me he'd do something like this when I called him this afternoon and told him I never wanted to see him again."

Before Jim could say anything, he held up a staying hand and continued talking too quickly, his words edgy and tight. "I swear, Jim, I had no idea he was a cop when I met him. He lied about everything, who he was and what he wanted. I thought he was a student working his way through school by being a bartender, at least that's what he told me."

Jim pulled another chair next to Blair's to sit down and then leaned back, his hand to his mouth. His relief at knowing his friend no longer wanted Richards tempered slightly when he watched the pain twisting those usually happy features. "So, when you tried to break it off, he threatened you? Why?"

"Because he's nuts, man."

"Tell me what happened." In his mind he pushed away the tally of how many times he'd asked that same question to hundreds of victims in his police work.

Wrapping his arms tightly around his middle, the younger man spoke quietly, almost like he couldn't believe his own words. "I mean, we had some good times at first. He's really bright, knows a lot about history and art, has a great sense of humor. But then he started being really aggressive and controlling for no apparent reason, really jealous when I even talked to anybody else, almost like he was two different people. The first time he hit me, I was so shocked, I didn't even know how to respond."

"He hit you? When?"

"The night before last. Afterwards, he acted all sorry, wanted to make it up to me, but I knew then I had to do something. I finally decided to stop seeing him and that was before I even found out he'd been lying the whole time."

"How'd you find out?"

"Brown."

"Brown? How'd he know about you and Richards?"

"He said he'd heard some guys talking about Tim having a new man, and just wanted to warn me. Said Tim had problems with guys he'd lived with in the past. He didn't have to go into detail, man. I got the full picture like a good kick in the ass. I felt like so embarrassed."

Rubbing his open palms on this thighs, he shook his head, his words nervous. "I figured if Brown knew, others would find out pretty quick, you included and I had to break it off before anything happened. But when I told him last night I wanted to stop seeing him anymore, he just lost it."

"Lost it how?"

"God, I feel so stupid." Jim kept his mouth shut, his own arms crossed to stop himself from grabbing his friend and pulling him into a hug. After a few more moments, Blair finally met his eyes. "I'm sorry, man."

"I am, too, Chief. I don't like getting ambushed or lied to."

"I know, man. I should've told you all this, but I thought I could handle it on my own. It never occurred to me that it could get this out of hand."

"Out of hand how?"

"Last night, he got a little rough and said some pretty harsh things, but he stopped and I figured, he'd just let it go. But, then I come into this and, well, it's pretty much a pretty good bet that he meant what he said."

"What'd he say?"

"I won't go into the details, but the condensed version is that he thinks he owns me, and that if I don't stay with him, he's going to make my life one big bad scene after another."

Jim nodded, his gut still too tight for comfort. "You said he got rough last night. Is he the one who gave you the bruises?"

"Yeah." Blair stood up and walked over to the wall, his back supported and his arms still crossed. "Jim, he really scared me last night. I was afraid he wasn't going to stop, but he did. It's just that if he had decided to do something, I couldn't have stopped him. I thought for sure he was going to rape me."

"Shit." Jim leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands for a few seconds. Working to reel in the flash of anger took so much energy, he struggled to keep breathing. Finally he sat back up and met the dark blue eyes watching him. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "Would you tell me if he did?"

"I don't know."

"I think that's one of the first honest answers you've given. Now, tell me the truth. Did he?"

"No, he pushed me around some, did some things, but not that."

"Some things?" The air burned, tiny spikes searing his lungs.

"Yeah, you know. I didn't really want to, but I was afraid."

"Tell me, Chief." The words hissed directly, sharp and intense.

"He held me face down and touched me, then he forced me to lie there while he got himself off. Once he was done, he stopped and let me up." Blair's face flushed a deep red as he rocked back and forth against the wall, his eyes downward.

"Son of a bitch." Raw hate raked his throat, the anger alive and writhing in his gut, awake and hungry.

His friend's voice wavered, the hurt swelling each word. "When I left his place, I came back here to clean up. I scrubbed for over an hour before I felt like I could change into the sweats I wore home. I didn't want to take the chance you could smell him on me."

His mind ached with the vision of his best friend hurt and dealing with something so awful alone. "Jesus, Blair, I wish you'd come home and just told me."

"I know I should have, but I couldn't. I mean, it was so unreal, man, like it couldn't be happening. It's like my mind shut down or something. When it was over, I just wanted to pretend like it didn't really happen, just forget about it, you know."

Nodding, police mode kicked in and he tried to get his professional voice to work. "Blair, this is sexual assault. You should make a report."

His head jerked up, eyes rounded. "No way, man. No fucking way. I don't want anybody to know about this. I hate even you knowing, but there's no way in hell I'm telling anyone else."

"What he did to you is wrong, Chief."

"No shit. I know that, but you and I both know it'll be his word against mine, Jim. He's a cop and I'm not. Be honest, man. It's a waste of time to even bother filing charges because nobody is going to fucking believe I didn't want it."

"Did you?"

All movement stopped as Blair's mouth fell open, the words lingering just a few moments before he forced them out. "Man, I am so out of here."

As he started for the door, Jim stepped in front. "I'm sorry, Blair. I didn't mean it like that."

"Sure you did. Move, Jim."

"No, I didn't. Look at me, Chief." Slowly, Blair's head lifted, blue eyes too bright and misty. "I'm really sorry. I know you didn't want any of this to happen."

"I swear, I didn't, Jim."

Reaching out his hand, he touched Blair's chin, his fingers caressing the stubble, dark whiskers like a rough heat. "I know." Gently he traced his thumb along the lower lip, his eyes never leaving his partner's bewildered face.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on, man?" As he started to pull his hand away, Blair's came up to capture his, the palm cupped against his cheek. "Don't stop. I like it."

Relaxing to his partner's touch, the huskiness of the voice that guided him pushed power into his courage, his words growing more brave. "I was afraid I'd lost you."

"Lost me?" Blair tilted his head, the side of his face pressed harder against his skin, the rapid pulse a beacon to continue.

"Something happened when I heard you were with a man. I kept thinking that you'd leave and I'd never get a chance to tell you that I need you."

Closing his eyes, drinking in the words, Blair raised his other hand to touch Jim's chest. "Do you?"

"Like breathing, Blair." The heated under layers melted his voice, the purr like smooth dark chocolate over sweet meaning.

"Man, I have waited so long to hear that. I love you, too, Jim."

Pulling him closer, Blair's arms snaked around his middle and Jim shook his head. "Damn, I never realized how much I needed to hear that."

"I love you, man."

"You're repeating yourself, Chief."

"You mind?"

"Not one bit."

"I don't want to tell Simon, man."

"We have to, Chief. This thing isn't going to stop here and you know it. Richards has to be reined in and the only way to do that is to report him. Now, if you don't want to go the official route of filing charges for the assault, we can at least turn him in for the break in." Jim steered the truck into his usual place in the garage and turned off the engine before he spoke again. "Look, I know this is really hard, but Simon can help."

"I know you're right, Jim, but you have no idea how humiliating this is."

Jim watched his friend chew on the inside of his right thumb as he stared out the window avoiding eye contact. "Blair, he lied to you. It's not your fault, any of it."

"I know that, but when people find out about Tim and me, they're going to wonder even more about us. How do you plan to handle that?"

"I don't know yet." And he didn't. He'd never really considered what he'd say the first time someone called him queer or fag, never even thought about how to handle being outed to the world with his feelings for the most important person in his life. In that context, he found his decision a hell of a lot easier than he ever imagined.

"I just know I love you and I'm tired of pretending we're just partners on the job. It's going to be more than that, and if others can't handle that, too damn bad."

Blair shifted in his seat, his body turned toward the larger man's as he took his hand. "Oh, man, this is too wild."

Returning his friend's smile, Jim brought his hand to his face and kissed the palm as he watched blue eyes darken. "Wild doesn't even start to describe it, but we'll do the really personal part when we're alone, when I've got time to say the things I've been holding back for too long. Right now, we've got to take care of this Richards asshole. I don't want him anywhere near you." The involuntary shudder at the name registered, the flinch unseen except to heightened senses. Whispering, his voice tight as new steal, he promised, "I won't let him hurt you, Blair."

Nodding, his confident smile back in place, Blair motioned with his head. "Come on, Jim, let's go do what we have to." A quick grin curled his mouth as his tongue traced his bottom lip before speaking. "For some reason, I suddenly have this awesome urge to hurry home."

His cock jumped at the husky promise in the words. "Damn, Chief, I knew I should've been honest ages ago."

"That'll teach you to keep your feelings to yourself, man. Now, let's go kick some badcop ass."

"Right behind you, partner."

"You better believe it."

Staring at the dozen red roses sitting on Jim's desk, Blair shook his head. "Man, I can't believe this."

"I can't believe the son of a bitch has such balls."

Simon walked up behind his two men and spoke much more softly than usual. "I think we need to take this into my office, gentlemen."

"Not before I throw this shit away, sir." All eyes in the bullpen watched as Jim Ellison jerked up the bouquet and crystal vase to pitch them in the hallway trash with shattering force, the glassy crash a focus of attention. Turning, his face set in a mask of barely controlled rage, he headed to follow his boss behind a closed door.

"Sorry bastard."

"Settle down, Jim." Simon motioned his detective to sit next to his partner. "Now, you want to tell me what's going on?"

Blair spoke first, his voice low, but steady. "It's a little complicated, Simon."

The captain held up a hand as he moved behind his desk and picked up a mug. "I guess I'd better get ready to listen then." He held out another cup as he asked, "Want some?"

"No, sir." Jim shifted uncomfortably in his seat while Blair stood up to pour himself something to drink, his movements tight and cautious.

"Thanks, man."

As soon as Simon leaned back, he spoke, his eyes aimed mainly at Jim. "Okay, which one of you two wants to start?"

"Captain, what do you know about a vice cop named Richards?"

"Tim Richards?"

"Yeah. He's the one who just sent the flowers to Sandburg."

Simon gazed first at Blair, shook his head, and then stared at Jim. "Damn."

"What's that supposed to mean, sir?"

The older man cleared his throat, his words already heavy and serious. "I guess it means I'm a little surprised, but I shouldn't be. Richards is a headcase who's got more balls than sense. Seems he's got one of the best arrest records in vice except for yours, Jim. Does things no one else will undercover. In fact, the last I heard, he had some kind of competition thing going. Wanted to break your old record."

"What? You mean, the son of a bitch is playing at some kind of contest?"

"I can't say for sure, but, yeah, he runs his mouth some and I've heard your name's been mentioned once or twice."

A cold wave swelled through him, the notion that Richards used Blair as a trophy, some kind of marker for his own tote board, growing into a real possibility. He pushed away the anxious thought as he tried to focus harder on what his friend continued to tell him.

"Thing is, he's also an arrogant asshole who happens to be gay and who happens to make a point of being in constant trouble because of his personal life. He's been suspended twice already because he broke a restraining order and harassed an ex-partner. He chose to take the time without pay over the recommended counseling."

"Shit." Blair's voice surprised both men who turned to look in his direction. "Simon, what's the deal, man? Why's he still a cop if he's so fucked up and violent?"

"Because he's good at his job, Chief. He knows how to work the fucking system." His anger rolled the words off his tongue, each syllable biting.

"Jim, he's under investigation by IA."

"How do you know that, Simon?"

"I can't tell you that, but I do know that if you can just hold it together a little while longer, we may be able to get rid of the problem."

"Well, it's a little late, sir. The damage is done."

"What damage?"

Before he could say anything, Blair put his cup down, his face drained of color. "Jim, just stop."

Simon looked back and forth between them, his brow wrinkled. "Someone want to fill me in here? What's going on?"

Jim watched his partner, the wounded twist of his features painful. "Tell him, Chief."

The younger man's eyes squeezed shut as he spoke quietly. "Simon, the guy's obsessive. He won't leave me alone."

"Open your eyes and look at me, Blair." Simon's voice sounded tight, but otherwise level. As soon as the younger man made eye contact, he asked, "Are you trying to say you were seeing Richard's socially?"

"Yeah, for a couple of weeks. I mean, he seemed okay, you know." Arms wrapped around his middle, Blair moved to the window, staring out as he spoke. "Jesus, I can't believe I could be so stupid."

"What happened with Richards?"

"When he got rough and I found out he was a cop, I tried to end it, but he just wouldn't take no for an answer. He warned me about what would happen if I didn't see him, threatened to make my life miserable. Then he trashed my office this afternoon, right before we came back to the station." He cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from straining to keep the words even. "I guess the flowers were his way of outing me in front of everybody, that and letting me know he's not going to give up."

"Are you telling me you're gay?"

"Yeah, well, I'm sort of half and half, you know. I like women and men."

"Shit."

"Captain, it's not that unusual." Jim leaned forward while he spoke, his own words forced. "There's more to this and I want you to hear it from us and not some third party."

Simon's dark eyes narrowed, his hand rubbing first his forehead and then the back of his head. He sighed, his voice resigned when he finally spoke. "Okay. You might as well tell me. I have a feeling I know what it is anyway."

Jim nodded, determined, his mouth dry. "Blair and I want to be more than just work partners."

"Yeah? That's sort of what I figured. So, when did this happen?" Simon's surface calm covered an increase in blood pressure and heart rate.

"Since this afternoon, but I've had these feelings for awhile now. Just couldn't bring myself to say anything about it. I mean, it's not something I planned."

"No, I wouldn't think so. Sort of ambushed you, huh?"

"Something like that, yeah." Jim spoke quietly as he turned his attention back to his best friend, the young man's expression too close to sadness for his liking.

The captain also turned his focus on Blair, his voice softer. "So, Sandburg, is this what you want, too?"

Walking over and standing next to Jim, Blair put his hand on the older man's shoulder, his face still grim. "Yeah, man. We're both being honest for a change. I know this is kind of a shock, but it's what we want, what we need to do."

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely." Jim met the dark eyes studying him, the intense gaze like deepest night. He took aim and delivered the powerful words with full force conviction. "Believe me, I've tried to deny what I felt for a long time. Relationships have never been easy for me and I know it's going to be a real bitch when this news comes out. I'm not naive enough to think this isn't going to change things for some people, but I can't help it. I love him, Simon. Saying it's easier than being too scared to admit it."

As Blair's hand tightened on his shoulder in support, Jim placed his hand over his partner's. His eyes never left Simon's face, the tension stretching the skin taut across the dark jaw.

After a few moments of silence, the captain leaned forward, gripping his hands together in front of him. "I'm happy for you, both of you, and I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me. But, you're right about it being a problem. There are going to be a lot of people who aren't going to be one bit happy.

"I know."

Nodding, his face distracted for a moment, Simon turned his attention fully on Blair. "So, Sandburg, what exactly did you mean, when you said he got rough?"

Choking, the younger man coughed and looked down at Jim, his eyes wild and pleading. Before he could say anything, Jim whispered, "Chief, you can trust him."

"I know, man, but I can't talk about this anymore."

Simon's voice cut the air between them. "You don't have to say anything else right now, but tell me if you're okay."

"I'm okay."

"Good. Now I want you to do something for me."

"What?" Blair still rested his hand in Jim's, the palm colder but still firm.

"I want you to wait outside for a minute while I talk to my detective. Then I want the two of you to go home and work out whatever you need to. I'm going to talk to Captain Thomas in Vice and Henries in IA and see what I can do about Richards on just the break in and the threats."

"Thanks, man." Turning to Jim he added, "I'll wait in the break room."

"In a minute, Chief."

As soon as he left, Simon's voice lowered, the anger tensing each word. "Did he hurt him, Jim?"

"Yeah, bruises and humiliation. I wanted him to file charges, but Blair's afraid to say what happened because he thinks no one will believe him."

"Damn." Simon rubbed his temples and then asked again, "But he's really okay?"

"Physically, yeah, I think so. Emotionally, I don't know, though I'm going to do make damn sure that asshole never touches him again."

"You won't be working alone on that."

"Thanks." Jim paused, taking his time to form words so alien to his nature. "I want to be with him, Simon. I know this seems crazy, but I really love the guy."

Smiling, Simon leaned back, his voice almost a chuckle. "Took you long enough. Good thing you're a detective."

"What?"

"It was really pretty obvious, but I figured I'd wait for you to really find out for yourself."

"It's no excuse, but I kind of took it for granted he'd always be there and I wouldn't have to say anything. Then this happened and it made me realize that I had to do something or I might lose him."

"Not really much chance of that, but I'm glad you realized what was going on with you lately." Motioning toward the monitor of his computer, the captain typed in a few words and numbers. "I think you should see something before you leave."

"What?"

"You've never seen Richards have you?"

"No. Why?"

As the computer screen filled with a file, a man's picture came up. "That's why. Look familiar?"

"Shit. That could me a few years ago."

"Punkass vice attitude and all, Ellison. The thing is, as soon as I heard the name connected to Sandburg, I knew what happened. If the kid couldn't have the one he wanted, why not go for a ringer? He's got it bad for you, Jim."

"And what about Richards? You think he knew Blair's my partner before this started?"

"No doubt about it. Sandburg's not exactly low profile in the department." Suddenly even more serious, Simon frowned, his voice angry. "Hell, Jim let's nail this son of a bitch to the wall, want to?"

"As long as I get to be the hammer, sir."

"But I'm the captain."

"But I'm the partner."

"Good point, but let me handle this my way first, Jim. Stay away from Richards until we've got the son of a bitch's take down planned through the right channels."

Jim nodded, his arms crossed, his jaw still clenching in an angry rhythm. "Do what you can, Simon, but I swear if he comes anywhere near us, I'll do what I have to."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

"Hell, Jim, the only thing that surprises me is that Richards is still alive."

"He hurts Blair again, he may not be."

"Jim?"

"Don't worry, captain. I won't do anything stupid. I'm still a cop, remember?"

"Yeah? Well, so's Richards." Before Jim could protest, Simon raised a hand. "I didn't mean you're the same kind of cop. I just meant, you're human first. We'll stop him, Jim, but we'll do it the right way. Now, go take the kid home and make him get some rest. Makes me tired just to look at him."

"Thanks, Simon. I'll do that."

"And, Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Congratulations. I always figured you'd get married again." The teasing smile got bigger when he added, "Never figured Blair though. Bet he'd be cute in a white veil and garters."

"He'd be cute without anything at all, sir."

Jim grinned as his friend choked on his coffee, the sputter and blush as good as acceptance, the warmth of the moment caught and noted.

Continued in part two.

Cop Games - part two

Due to the length of this story, it's been split into two parts.

Cop Games

by Grey

Author's webpage: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/3837/index2.html

Continued from part one.

Cop Games - part two
by Grey

Blair dropped onto the couch, his right arm up over his eyes while his head sagged back supported only by the armrest. His legs twisted and fell over the side and Jim shook his head at the awkward position. "Chief, why don't you crawl into bed? You're dead on your feet here."

"Too tired to move, man. Give me a minute."

Sitting down at the end of the sofa, Jim pulled the younger man's feet into his lap. "Why don't you go upstairs and lie down. I can come up later."

No longer breathing, Blair lowered his arm and stared. Slowly his lungs moved again. "What?"

Smiling at his friend's reaction, he rubbed his hands up and down the front of legs while he spoke. Each of his strokes made Blair's breathing more labored, the body heat rising against his finger tips. "I'd like us to sleep in the same bed, Chief. I know you're too tired right now for anything but snoozing, but I want us to be together. Does that scare you?"

"A little, but not enough to stop me from wanting the same thing." He reached down, taking Jim's hand and squeezed. Moving his legs off the larger man's lap, he sat up and shifted closer. "I just want you to hold me, man."

Wrapping his arms his shoulders, he drew him closer, the full rush of Blair's body large and real against his chest. "God, you feel good, Chief."

"Same here." Snuggling in closer, his head under Jim's chin, his words softened as they reached sentinel ears. "I love you."

"Me, too." He rested his chin on the dark curls, the scent of winter cold captured in the strands. As the tension in the muscles relaxed, he stroked back the hair, his voice hushed and quiet. "We're going to be okay."

"I know."

After only a few moments, Blair's breathing stretched slower and more steady, the sleeping sounds a soothing comfort. The head slumped down, the back of the neck stretched. Carefully, he eased himself to the side, spooning their bodies together on the narrow sofa. Almost in slow motion, he covered them both with the throw and then drifted in the ocean of sensation. Blair's heartbeat steadied his own, the breathing only slightly slower. Soft curls tickled his chin and the ache of his friend's weight teased a hungry groin, his own arousal frustrating, but not painful. The nearness set up a chain of magnified pictures, the whiskers, the lashes, the smooth brow, the wisp of chest hair escaping the top edge of his sweater. Full lips parted slightly as air puffed through with each inhalation and release, the smallest hint of coffee still lingered on his breath.

A palm on a well-muscled biceps detected firm flesh, yet still knew the bruise, the outline of a hand traced into sentinel senses. Memory flashed and anger rolled back up to spoil the peaceful connection, the idea of anyone hurting his partner, a rude reminder that an ugly life extended beyond their place in the loft. Pushing away the fearful darkness sucking at his soul, he breathed in his guide's heady sweetness and drifted in the haven of Blair's surrendered heart.

Standing at the window, one arm wrapped around his middle while the other held his drink, he heard the shifting and turned. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah." The sleepy voice didn't sound convincing. "What time is it?"

"Late. You still look tired."

"Some." Blair sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then shook his head. "Man, I had the strangest dream."

"Yeah? What?"

A small smile curled his lips as he pulled his legs up and huddled under the covers at the far edge of the couch. "I dreamed you were holding me while I was sleeping."

Grinning back, the memory of the warm body tingling his skin, Jim fixed his eyes on this future. "No dream, Chief."

Blair held out his arm, his voice husky. "Want to do it again?"

"Sure." Swallowing down the last of his beer, he threw away the bottle as he walked over and lifted the cover. Settling in beside his partner, he pulled him in close. "I've been thinking."

"Ah, Jim, don't spoil it."

"Smart ass."

Teasing fingers walked across his chest, his nipples rest stops and playgrounds before the busy hand finally rested over his heart. Blair's face rubbed against his cheek, the stubble fiery pleasure. "Okay, what?"

Breathing challenged, the words stuttered. "Jesus, Blair. You're making me crazy here. I can't talk while you do stuff like that."

"Talk's not all that. Let's save it until later." His eager hand aimed lower, the slow slide to fondle his crotch too intense, a tight guide wire from his spine to his cock. "You like that, Jim?"

"Oh, god, yeah."

His mouth open, air too thin to find his lungs, he gasped as Blair reached past the elastic band to wrap hot fingers around his erection while the sturdy body rocked against his, his partner's hardness hitting a sweaty thigh. Hips raised as he pumped into the welcomed fist, the building pressure in his belly waving down to his clenching asscheeks. His own hands found Blair's face, pulling him closer, the full mouth a treasure. Lips parted as his tongue searched for a partner, a challenge to wrestle, the slick heat a swarming roughness. The roaring swell of tension building arched him up suddenly, his own surprised groan swallowed up as Blair sucked away his loud pleasure. Exploding, the world flashed, spasms holding him hostage, no will to control any movement or thinking, suspension in heavenly release.

Falling back, his body flushed and wasted, he gulped several times before he found his air captured again by a hungry mouth savaging his before nibbling chin and throat. After a few moments, it stopped while cool air flooded over his skin. Love-scented fingers caressed his cheek as Blair whispered, "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Turning his head, he fixed on the dark blue eyes, the question carried by his lover's voice stirring his cock again.

"Okay doesn't half cover it, Chief. That was great."

"So, we're really going to do this?"

"I think we already did." Even to himself his voice sounded smug and happy. The weak slap to his forehead brought his attention back to his partner's face, the deep concern directed his way a surprise. "What?"

"No jokes, Jim. I mean it. I need to know you're serious here."

His own hand braced the back of Blair's at his face. Drawing the body forward, his eyes never left his guide's. "I wasn't joking. Don't ever think that. Tell me what to do to convince you that this isn't some passing fancy. This is for real." A deep swallow brought the troubled face even closer, the eyes now shut. Kissing the unshaved cheek burned his lips and made him even harder. "I want you, Blair. Forever."

"No matter what?" Something in the tone, the tiniest off-balance vibration, alarmed him.

Pulling back, he still held Blair's lower body against him as he spoke quietly. "Where's this coming from, Chief? What's going on in that head of yours? You're starting to scare me."

"I don't mean to. I'm just a little afraid this is all too quick, that as soon as things settle down, you'll get tired of the extra hassle this is going to be."

Frowning, his forehead starting to stress under the weight of scrunching, he shook his head. "Extra hassle? You mean because of the gay thing?"

"The gay thing?" Blair pushed away even further, his hand still touching Jim's chest, the pulse pounding up through his skin. "Jim, this is going to change everything. No more dating, no more just being friends in a guy's world. You're going to be shocked at how shitty some people will treat us, people you thought were fair."

Touching his lover's face, he saw the fear and the traces of memory etching unwanted lines of near panic. "You sound like you've been there."

"When I was younger, I tried to be open, but I went through some really ugly things, man. I hate hiding, but sometimes, it's so much easier than the truth."

"Truth is always better than a lie."

"Is it? A little obfuscation can save so much grief that it just sort of became a habit. I didn't want people to know, so I pretended to be completely straight. But, now, everybody's going to know, and it won't just be me that's a target. It's going to be hard, Jim."

"I already know that, Chief. It's okay."

Nodding and taking a deep breath, Blair kept his voice steady, the effort like an gymnast on the verge of losing his balance. "I just wanted you to know, that I won't hold it against you, if you change your mind, if it's too hard, you know."

"No deal, Blair."

"What?"

"You heard me, no deal. I don't want out of it. If you do, tell me now, but I can't promise not to be hurt. I love you and that's not going to change whether we're lovers, partners, or friends. I want it all."

"Greedy bastard." Grinning, he settled his head back on Jim's chest.

"You better believe it." Running his fingers through sweaty curls, Jim leaned forward, kissing the damp. "Let's go upstairs and sleep the rest of the night together. I do believe you've worn me out, little buddy."

"Okay, but don't figure on ever being too rested. I got plans, man. This was just a test."

"Well, it's about time you started testing something important. I was just thinking my oral skills could use some serious practice. Want to volunteer any of your vital parts for a spit shine and polish?"

"Oh, man." The deep groan behind the words rumbled passion through his heart.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Where do you think you're going?"

Stuffing the last of his books into his back pack, Blair glanced up. "I've got a final to give. I should be done by noon though. Want me to meet you at the station?"

"You're not going anywhere alone, Chief. Forget about it." Jim walked over to pour himself the last of the coffee and then leaned against the counter.

"I have to, man, and then I'll be finished for the semester. Luckily I had copies of the questions on my laptop or I'd still be trying to retrieve it from my computer at school."

"No way."

"I don't have a choice." Shaking his head as he picked up his things, Blair reached for his coat only to have his arm captured in a grip that stopped all movement. Jim looked into surprised eyes to find fear staring back. "Shit." He immediately released his hold as he stepped away, both hands raised. "I'm sorry."

Dropping his things, Blair sat down at the table, his body still shaking. "Man, you didn't have to do that."

"I said I was sorry."

"I know, Jim. I heard you." His friend's soft voice hurt worse than a hard slap. He bit his lower lip as he strained to listen without interrupting.

"You're only trying to protect me. I get that, man, I do, but I hate needing to be guarded. I can't go around living my life worried that this asshole is going to hurt me again."

"It's just until we've got Richards under control, Chief. I'll come with you to the university."

"You have to go to the station."

"I'll call Simon and go in later. You're not leaving my sight until I know it's safe."

"It's never going to be safe, Jim. I just have to learn to deal with it." The conviction behind the words stung, the truth behind them a knife slicing through his gut.

After a long silence, Jim broached the subject he most wanted to avoid. "We have to talk about this morning, Chief."

"Not now, Jim. If you're going to watch me give a test, at least put your shoes on. I'm already running late." Recognizing all too well the stubborn set of his guide's jaw, he resigned himself to waiting. As he headed upstairs, Blair's voice interrupted his frustrated thoughts. "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I really am okay."

"Sure you are, Chief. You just scream in terror at my touch for no reason."

Paled by the words, Blair turned away, his arms crossed around himself. "I told you I was asleep. You surprised me, that's all."

"No shit."

"Let's just go, man. If I don't get there, I'm going to be seriously fucked. Davis will have my ass. He already thinks I'm a flake."

"Since when?"

"Since forever, man. Now hurry up."

Still worried, Jim went upstairs and changed his slippers for shoes and socks. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he closed his eyes visualizing the worst of the bruises along Blair's bare arms, legs, and back, the uneven pattern of lines and blotches made by a combination of blows and restraints. Cursing his police training, he realized once again his lover never told him the whole story. Never fucking never. Shit.

Punching his fist into the mattress, he gripped his own anger and pushed it deep beneath his hurt. Control in place, he stood and checked to secure the gun at his back before going downstairs. "Ready, Chief?"

"You call Simon yet?"

"I'll do it on the way. Let's go."

A hand touched his arm lightly, enough to stop his movement to the door. "Don't be pissed, man. I swear, I'll talk about it later, just not now, okay?"

"I'm not pissed, at least not at you." His eyes met his friend's and the grimness holding him in such a dark place lightened. "I'm here to listen whenever you're ready."

"Thanks, man."

"Now, let's move it. The streets are pretty icy and I'm in no mood to put up with halfass drivers who don't have a clue about how to drive in the snow."

Picking up his back pack, Blair carried it to the door and talked over his shoulder as Jim locked up. "Please tell me you're not going to use the siren, man. That is like so unethical."

"You want to get there on time or not, Chief?"

"You're pretty good at that."

"Good at what?" He pocketed the key as he stepped in to walk behind his partner taking the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator.

"Blackmail."

"It's not blackmail to put all the choices out there." Walking along together, they reached the exit and stepped out into the cold, the winter storm winds whipping the trees around them. Jim stopped, his vision concentrated on his truck, the hood dented, the windshield smashed in. "Shit." He put out one arm to keep Blair for moving any closer and reached for his cellphone.

"What?"

"We had a visitor last night." Ringing several times, Simon's voice came on the line. "Captain, this is Ellison. I need a couple of patrol cars at my place."

"What's going on?"

"I think Richards just vandalized my truck and I need someone to take Sandburg to the university and stay with him while he gives his last final and I file the report."

"Change of plans, Jim. I'm on my way over."

"You don't have to do that, sir."

"Yes, I do. I've got some important information."

"Can't you tell me over the phone?"

"I'd rather not. I'll send Brown to stay with Sandburg, but find somebody else to give his final."

"What's going on, Simon?"

"I'll tell you when I get there." The curt words snapped, the concern behind them pushing them through space.

As soon as his captain hung up, he turned to Blair. "Let's go back inside, Chief. This may take awhile."

"I don't have awhile, Jim. I've got to give this test."

"Forget the fucking test, Sandburg."

Standing very still for a moment, Blair finally spoke. "I'll go alone, Jim. You stay here and do what you have to."

"Call one of your TA friends and just fax or email the test. You need to stay here until we find out what's going on."

"I can't do that." He looked down at his watch. "Man, it starts in less than an hour and I've got to get the thing xeroxed."

"Blair, don't be stupid. Richards just fucked over my car and now Simon's on his way over after he specifically said to keep you here."

"I'm not stupid, Jim. This is my job." He held himself tightly as he started to rock foot to foot, the cold bringing on more shaking. "He really said for me to stay here?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Fuck. I hate this, man."

"Me, too, Chief."

Disgusted and shivering, he turned back to the building and headed to the elevator, Jim right behind him. "Blair, it's going to be okay. We'll explain it to Davis and anybody else who needs to know."

"Explain it how, man? That our lives are being held hostage by some cop headcase who has a crush?"

"It's more than that, Chief."

"Don't you think I fucking know that? Whatever I do I'm screwed. Davis already hates me."

Getting in the elevator together, Jim kept his voice even. "You've said that before. What's going on with that? Why is this Davis suddenly all over your case?"

"It's not sudden. He's never liked me, well, not for years."

"And that's because?"

"Leave it alone, Jim."

Biting his tongue, the older man stared at the buttons and then at the sliding doors. As they got off on their floor, he put the key in the lock and spoke quietly. "Why don't you make a list, Chief. Might make it simpler to keep track."

Putting his stuff on the couch, Blair walked over to the phone and picked it up to dial as he spoke. "What the hell are you talking about now?"

"Make a list of what I'm supposed to not talk about, the list of things I'm supposed to tiptoe around."

"Fuck you, Jim."

Avoiding eye contact, Blair turned his back away, suddenly talking into the phone, his voice sounding all light and cheerful, his whole body animated with his conversation. "Hi, Janie? Yeah, this is Blair Sandburg.

Girl, I have a huge favor to ask, yeah I know it's early. I'm sorry....... I need you to give my final for Anthro 201 this morning.......uh huh, I know it's short notice, but there's this thing going on where I live. The police are on their way and I'm sort of stuck here until I give a report on what happened... No, nothing too serious, but you know cops......yeah, I know, I live with one........uh huh...... right, well, I owe you big time....... yeah, I'll email you even as we speak......Tell Martin I'm sorry to tear you away so early.......Right... I'll do that.... and thanks..... I appreciate it."

Hanging up, he avoided stepping too close as he got out his lap top and powered up.

"I'll make us some coffee, Chief."

"Yeah, do that, Jim, but don't fucking talk to me again if you ever think about being such an asshole." His whole body shook as he typed in the information to retrieve his files.

"Why are you so angry?"

"Leave me alone, man. I've got to get this done."

Hooking up his modem, he typed again while Jim shook his head and started making a new pot of coffee. Leaning against the counter, his ankles crossed, he registered the racing vital signs, the near panic pushing every reading to the limits. The flush along with the sweating and the rapid breathing brought him to the table, his hand on the back of his friend's chair. "What's going on, Chief?"

"Nothing. Just don't touch me." Hitting the send key, Blair finished and closed the window, signing off. Just as he started to stand, he slumped back down, his hands gripping the edge of the table to steady himself. "Oh, man."

"What?"

"Shit. I can't breathe."

"You're breathing, Chief. Just slow it down a little before you have a heart attack or something."

"Or something. I so do not need this now, man."

As he stood to race out the door, Jim shook his head and moved to stand in front of the exit. "No way you're leaving. Run around in circles if you have to. Stand on your head, meditate, drink a couple gallons of tea, but no running away."

"I'm not running away. I just need some fresh air."

"Then go stand on the balcony, but you're not going anywhere until Simon tells me what's going on and I know you're safe."

The knock came on cue as Simon's voice boomed from the other side. "Jim, let me in."

"Listen, man, don't tell Simon about the other stuff. I can't deal with anymore right now. Please." The voice came out a whisper, a plea that clutched his heart, the twist painful and sharp.

"I haven't told him, Blair, and I'm not going to. It's not my place to do that."

Swallowing hard, his eyes too bright and his breathing still too fast, Blair nodded. "I'm okay, man. Let him in."

As he turned to do just that, Jim forced himself not to argue. Descriptions of Blair Sandburg included many things, but okay didn't count as even close to truth at the moment.

"So, what exactly are you saying?"

"Looks like Richards is trying to make sure no one's around to testify against him. They found Tucker at his place on Fifth and Leary in his apartment, both tortured and strangled. Seems he wanted to know what they said before he killed them."

Jim paced back and forth in front of the window, while Blair sat on the couch. Both men glanced at the other while Simon continued to talk. "We've got an APB out on Richards, but right now we don't have any hard evidence, just strong circumstantial. Still, it's enough to get a warrant for his arrest."

Putting the folder on the table, Simon rubbed his haggard face, his voice muffled by his hands before he lowered them. "Jim, I don't think I've ever seen anything like this. The guy's gone over the edge big time, totally lost it. Somehow he got wind that Tucker and Leary were working with IA's investigation. He going through all his contacts and making sure there's no one around who can give the serious proof we need to convict him."

"He's desperate."

"And dangerous. Before he would've lost his job, gone to prison for a few years for blackmail and being a pimp, but now we're talking murder."

"That's one hell of a step up."

"No kidding." Simon turned his attention to Blair, while Jim stayed by the window. "You okay, Sandburg?"

"I'm fine, Simon. This is all just so hard to take in."

"Yeah, I can imagine. The thing is, now we have to be sure he doesn't come after you."

"I don't understand. I mean, we dated, but I didn't see him blackmail anybody."

"But he assaulted you, right?"

"He hit me, so what? I'm not in any danger. Why should he risk coming after me? I mean, he knows I'm not going to press charges."

"But you should, Chief."

"Stay out of this, Jim. I told you before, I can't do that. I WON'T do that. Just fucking leave it alone." Blair stood and stormed down the hall, slamming the door to the restroom, the lock clicking in place.

"That went over well."

"Simon, there's more to the story."

"I know, but it's the kid's story. I'm not going to push it because, frankly, that's not my most important concern. Right now I just want to catch Richards and make sure he's put away. I see psych evaluation in his future if we can catch his sorry ass. The guy's seriously crazy, Jim." His voice lowered, almost a whisper. "What I'm saying is, Sandburg's lucky to still be alive. I'm not a shrink, but I have a feeling that all this escalated because of this thing with Blair leaving and the IA investigation all at once. I think he's totally lost it."

Nodding, regular breathing a challenge, Jim tried to keep his words steady despite his lazy tongue. "So why is it the whole department can't find just one man, Simon?"

"Because he's a cop, Jim. He knows every facet of the game and he's a damn good player."

"Well, so am I, sir, and this is one game I am not about to lose. I can't afford it."

"None of us can."

"I need every file, every bit of information we have available on Richards. I want to know what he eats for breakfast, what size shoe he wears, his favorite gun. I want to know what his mother gave him for Christmas when he was ten. I want every fucking thing we have, Simon, and I want it yesterday."

"You've got it. I'll use Sandburg's laptop to access some of the files from here and send for the others."

"Thanks, Simon."

As his captain set up to make the connection with headquarters, Jim stared out the window while he trained his hearing on the sounds in the bathroom down the hall. Labored breathing, choking on anxious wet air, twinged his heart. His best friend's suffering worked against his defenses, but he steeled himself harder. Covert Ops training kept him focused on the mission, to end the reign of terror first, then do the clean up later. Blair's healing, as well as their life together, would have to wait. He'd worry about happy endings and lifetime commitments as soon as he secured the life of the man he bothered to live for.

"Come on, Sandburg. Doesn't anybody look familiar? You were with the guy for two weeks. Didn't you see any of these people?" Simon stood behind the smaller man looking over his shoulder, studying the file as Blair turned the pages.

"Nobody stands out so far, man. I mean, we went out to dinner and a few bars, Simon. I wasn't part of his family or anything. I didn't get to see any of these people." Glancing up at Jim, he asked, "Who are they anyway?"

"Over the last two years while he's been undercover, Richards apparently collected quite a stable of hustlers, young men he dated who either ended up missing or selling for him."

Suddenly paled, Blair swallowed hard before he could speak. "What? But he's a cop, man."

"A rogue cop, Chief. IA's been investigating for over six months now. The guy's been busy busting the competition and putting his own string out on the street." Jim's jaw ached from the control his speech, to keep out the personal loathing. "Hell, the only reason we found out is that one of the competitors got pissed off that a cop moved in on his territory and turned in an anonymous tip."

"I still don't get it, Jim. You said internal affairs has had months to investigate." He picked up the thick folder on top of the others to emphasize his words, his voice taut. "Look at this, man. Wasn't this enough to get him off the streets, to keep him from hurting anymore people?"

Simon's voice cut in between them. "IA wanted to follow up on the missing persons, Blair. Tucker and Leary were both young guys who'd been turned out by Richards, but apparently they were willing to tell about a few men who refused to do what they did. According to IA, Leary was an eye witness to a murder of a kid named Bryant."

"And they're just now sharing that, sir?"

"At least it's a start." Shuffling through one of the files, he picked up a picture of a young man, dark hair, brown eyes, a sad expression. "He disappeared a month ago. Leary said he was tortured, raped, and killed. Said that's why he wouldn't cross Richards, because he was too afraid of what could happen if he got pissed."

"So, how did they convince him to be a witness?"

"Threatened prison. Look at him. You think a guy who looks like that would last long inside?"

"Shit, Simon. That sucks, man."

"It's how the game's played, Sandburg. You know that. You do what you have to."

"And now Leary's dead, right?" The words tilted, off balance in mid-air."

"Yeah, Chief." Jim interrupted, needing to get Blair's growing distress distracted and refocused on the task at hand. "That's why we need to know if you recognize anyone else in the file, anyone who might give a clue about where Richards is hiding or what he might do next."

Staring at the photo of the dead man Bryant, Blair shook his head. "I didn't see any of these people, man. Honest. Jesus, this is so unreal."

Simon stood up and walked to the window motioning for Jim to follow. Leaning in, he spoke quietly while the grad student continued to go through the folders. "Jim, I don't think he's going to be able to help us much. Look at him. He's a mess."

"Not without good reason, sir."

"Yeah, I know that, but still, we need to get out of here and go to the scenes and the Soldier downtown. That's the club where Richards worked his business. Maybe you can sense something forensics missed."

"I can't leave him here, Simon. No way."

"Brown's here and there's a unit outside. We need to find this guy, Jim. I'm talking a seriously small window of opportunity here. The press gets hold of the fact that we've got a gay cop on a killing spree, they're going to go into a major feeding frenzy. Might even go national." Simon cocked his head toward Blair while he spoke. "Guess who one of the main entrees will be? They find out your partner dated him, I don't want to even think about how ugly it could get."

"How would they find out?"

"The same way they find out everything, leaks. There's no way Richards should've been able to find out about the IA report, but he did, and now two men are dead. Just add those to the list of five missing men we can't prove he killed yet."

"Son of a bitch." Both men turned to find Blair holding up a picture and talking, his voice going faster and faster, the words speeding and run together. "This one, Jim. He called him Brett and he was there at the apartment twice. Jesus, he's just a kid. Says here he's 19, but I swear he looks like a baby, I mean, my god, I just can't believe this. He'll be next if he's testifying. Shit. You've got to get there before Tim does. Oh, man, I don't feel very good." Lurching from the table, he made it to the bathroom and slammed the door. Retching sounds pinched Jim's stomach as he fought the urge to go to his lover despite the other men as witnesses. Instead, he turned to Simon.

"I think we just found our lead. Let's get to Brett Thompson's place and hope we don't find another body."

Turning to Brown, he put his arm on his shoulder. "I trust you to keep him safe, H. I have to do this."

"No problem, man. Richards brings his sorry ass around and I'll shoot it off." His voice suddenly softer, he added. "Don't worry, Jim. He'll have to kill me to get to Blair. Your man's safe here."

"Thanks. I'm counting on you." Before he could say anything else the sounds of another round of sickness came from the bathroom.

"You think he's okay?"

"No, he's not, but he will be. Tell him I'll be back as soon as I can, and H."

"Yeah?"

"Don't let him fool you."

"What?"

"Don't let him out of the loft. He may try to slip out."

Brown shook his head, confusion clouding his usually bright features. "Why would he do that?"

"Because knowing Sandburg, he may try to find Richards himself."

"That's crazy."

"Yeah, well, we're talking Sandburg here, okay? He has a tendency to do whatever you tell him not to, and Brown, he's good at it."

"Thanks for the warning, man, but I think I can handle Sandburg."

"I hope so, because anything happens to him and you'll have to handle me." Jim smiled, his face a mask of professional promise. Brown looked away nervously as he headed down the hall to take up his position of guarding the bathroom.

"Come on, Jim. We need to go." Simon tugged at Jim's sleeve as he handed him his black leather jacket.

"I hate leaving him, Simon. I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Join the crowd, Ellison. My bad feeling went to serious shit hours ago."

The blue eyes of the corpse stared surprised, eternity like a solid black puzzle. "Damn. I hate to see this one, Jim. At least he wasn't tortured like the others."

"No, sir, but he's still just as dead." Squatting near the bed, Jim surveyed the scene eye level, the nude body simply an object, a necessary cop trick to get through the investigation, to remove himself from the emotional punch of the scene. He stood back up and shook his head.

"Anything?"

"Nothing that's helpful." Stepping to the desk near the bedside, he sorted through the books and papers stacked there. Brett Thompson may have left school, but he apparently still studied on his own. So many text books and notes cramped into such a small space reminded him of his partner's room downstairs, his old room. "Simon, do you think that Thompson still had contacts at the college, guys he may have talked to about what was going on with him and Richards?"

"I don't know, Jim. Maybe. Why?"

"Some of these papers have recent dates. Looks like he may have been getting notes from somebody from some of the classes he dropped when he started working." Pausing on one of the folders, he scanned down and stood suddenly still, the chill washing over him as he read the entry. "Shit."

"What is it?"

"Brett kept a journal. Says here he was afraid of what Richards wanted to do to him if he didn't help him get Blair. Says he has someone in the department helping, someone named Joe. Shit, Simon, we have to get this asshole."

"We're trying, Jim, but we have to have something more to go on. I mean, Joe? That's about as common as John." Scratching his head in weary frustration, he paced the small room as he spoke. "You read through all the files. Where would he go? Do you think he's left the city now that all the IA witnesses are dead?"

"No. He might hide outside the city, but he's not gone. He's not finished yet."

"You talking about Blair, right?" Simon stepped his closer, his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I know you're worried about your partner, but do you really think he'll risk getting killed or captured to get to him? I mean, he's got to know we've got the kid under protection. Hell, he seems to know what we're doing even before we do."

Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Jim stepped to the window. Outside the police and the forensics team worked with a growing audience. The press skirted the inside edges, moving in closer with each passing minute. "I know. He's good, Simon, I'll admit that. It's like he has a camera aimed right at us." His eyes narrowed and he flashed on mental picture of a white man in his early forties, thin and balding, wearing a dark brown suit. "You seen Joe Harris lately?"

"What? Joe Harris? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Does he still do the PR work with the press out of the mayor's office or not?" His voice strained over the words, the growing revelation expanding to include both the rage and the fear that he'd found part of the answer.

"Well, yeah. He was just in my office yesterday afternoon. Why?"

"Harris is gay and he spends a lot of time down at the Soldier." Remembering back to how many times he'd seen the man casually chatting up his partner flashed a heat wave through his belly, the blast of red behind his eyeballs blinding. He spoke as he pinched the bridge of his nose, the growing anxiety like heated fingers poking at his brain. "How much you want to bet he's the leak. He's got access and I'd wager my pension, he's connected to Richards somehow, an ex-lover or maybe one of the blackmail victims."

"Hell, Jim, just because he's gay doesn't mean he's connected to this thing. I mean, with that thinking, you could be the leak."

Sucker punched by the words, Jim barely contained his anger. "With all due respect, sir, fuck you."

"Damn it, Jim, I just meant that we can't just go after Harris because he hangs out at the Soldier."

"I know that." He stepped into the hallway and headed outside.

"Wait a minute."

"I'm going to find Harris. You want to march for his civil rights, go ahead. Just stay the hell out of my way."

"Hold up, Detective. That's an order." Halted more by training than will, Jim refused to look at the man standing beside him. The fury scraped inside his gut, wild and howling, wanting to leap forward to rip open the thick neck. "Jim, listen to me. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. You know I'm your friend in this. We're both just a little wired here."

Blue eyes met dark ones. "I trust you, Simon, and you're my friend, but if you're going to say things like that, just stay away from me."

The emotional strike brought Simon's head straight back as he stared. After a few moments, he leaned in, his voice hoarse. "Jim, I'm sorry."

"I know, but imagine what it's going to be like later when everybody knows. I have to handle this, but it's hard." Turning away again, his captain's hand still on his arm, he whispered, the regret weighting the words. "Nothing's like it should be. I just thought it would be better somehow once I told him I loved him, and it's not. It's worse."

"Jim? What are we talking about here?"

"Later, Simon. I can't talk about this now." Quickly he rubbed his face several times with both hands, the rage no longer screaming for attention. "When we find Harris, we'll either find Richards or get a good lead on where he's hiding. Let's go."

Just as they started down the outside steps, a radio squawked. "All units. Officers down. 852 Prospect. All units......"

"Shit, Simon. That's Blair."

Henri Brown lay on a stretcher, unconscious, but alive. The patrolman downstairs didn't fair as well, stunned and shot once in the head. The wrecked apartment reminded him of Lash and the struggle his partner went through the last time a madman kidnapped him from his own home. He shook his head and turned his mind away from the past, focused instead on the steady vital signs of his fellow detective. "How is he?"

"They're about ready to transport. Looks like a concussion. Must have gotten in a solid blow from behind. The vitals are good though." Scanning the room, Simon motioned with his hand to the crew coming in. He barked at the team leader, his voice straining on each word. "Turner, I want all this done by the book, hear me? Any screw ups and I'll have somebody's ass for breakfast. Do I make myself clear?"

"We understand, sir. We drop the ball on getting a cop killer, I'll cook my own ass and serve it up." Turner immediately directed his officers around the room, each one trained and efficient.

Still stunned, Jim watched, his sight blinking on and off, the sound fuzzy and full of echoes, the flashing cameras, spikes to his eye sockets. Covering his mouth, he turned to stand by the window, his mind racing, overwhelmed with worst case scenarios. The hand at his elbow didn't even faze him. "Jim? You okay?"

"Not really, sir. My senses are spiking and I can't think straight." A strong arm pulled him to the doorway and down the hall, away from the main activity. His feet labored to move, the sucking action of the world around him like quicksand, his lungs sinking away from the air.

"Jim, get a grip, man. I need you alert here, not zoning."

Clearing his throat, he fell back against the wall, his numb face in his hands, his balance shaky. "I'm not zoning. It's like things keep clicking on and off, but not all at the same time. I've never had this before. I don't know what to do."

"Damn it, Jim. Come on. Focus. What would Sandburg tell you to do?"

"I don't know. He's gone. I have to find him."

"You have to pull yourself together to do that. We've got to figure out where he might take him. Think, Jim. Where would the son of a bitch take Sandburg?"

The frustration behind the words warbled the syllables as Jim glanced over watching the emergency techs carry Brown to the elevator. He needed answers, but his friend couldn't speak, couldn't wake up and tell him. Still, he had a few clues once he could get his tongue and lips to start working together as a team.

"Harris was here, Simon. He helped him get in."

"How do you know that?"

"I can smell him. His scent's all over the place. Brown had no way of knowing Harris was in on it."

"His scent? You telling me you can actually smell the guy in your place?"

Jim took several deep breaths, his hearing more even, his sight no longer a strobe light experience. "Yeah. Everyone has his or her own smell, Simon. I don't even have to hear or see Blair to know where he is. I can just smell him. Harris was here and he's wounded."

"Who's wounded? Harris or Blair?

"Harris. I smell the blood. Blair wasn't hurt, but he was scared. His scent is totally different when he's frightened, more potent and sharp. Jesus, I hate this, Simon. I have to find him." Squeezing his eyes shut, he picked up on his partner's scent again and then cocked his head. "Simon?"

"What?"

"We need to look in the basement. Harris is down there, but we need to hurry. He's hurt bad."

"Then we'd better get moving."

Heading to the rear of the building, going down the stairs, guns out and up, Simon called for back up and another ambulance. By the time they reached the concrete surface, Jim nodded. "Don't you smell that?"

"Smell what?"

"The blood."

"No, but I can see the blood trail. He's over here." Simon switched on the light at the bottom of the stairs before they headed to the far corner.

Harris lay on his back, crumpled, one arm across his stomach, the other to his side. Running up to him, Jim put his gun away as he kneeled. "Harris? Can you hear me?"

A hoarse whisper pushed through pale lips. "About fucking time you showed up, Ellison."

"Where's Richards? Where'd he take my partner?"

Reaching out his hand, Harris gripped Jim's forearm and tried to pull himself up. "Help me."

"Tell me where he is first."

Wheezing as he spoke, Harris barely pushed out the words, each phrase a losing battle. "His sister has a place in the country, out by the North Woods. Go there."

"Where exactly? And how long ago did he take Blair?"

"About half an hour, maybe more. I don't know exactly where. You have to ask his sister." As Jim jerked him in closer, the man pleaded, the blood on his hands smearing on Jim's arm. "I swear, man, I don't know."

"What's he planning?"

"You don't have much time. Tim's fucking lost it. Thinks he's you or something." Sagging down, his words almost too breathless to hear, he whispered, "Blair saved my life, man. Brown's, too. Offered to go with him."

Several coughs later, he managed to finish the urgent warning. "Hurry, Ellison or your partner's a dead man. Tim knows he can't win, and he won't give him up. He's gone crazy, man."

Jim stood back as the EMT's swarmed in around the sagging body, consciousness a lost cause as life drained further and further away, the heartbeat slowing even more. As the medics struggled to save the man's life, Simon shut his phone and pulled Jim back toward the stairs. "Come on. We've got an address on the sister."

The labored breaths punctuated their leaving as Jim rushed to find his guide, raced to find the one man whose heartbeat even mattered.

Blair dreamed of hot coffee, rich steam and flavor running down his throat, warming his frozen belly. Opening his eyes slowly, he shivered as he realized he lay on a hard cot, his hands cuffed behind his back, his feet tied together. An involuntary groan escaped, the shifting bringing a sharp pain in his right side. "Damn."

"Stay still, Blair."

"I can't. It hurts."

"Hold on a minute." Warm hands touched his cold ones as a key unlocked the cuffs and then gently rearranged him in a sitting position, his back propped in the corner. The aching lessened, the pressure not quite as severe on his bruised ribs. The cuffs snapped back on wrists now in the front. Richards backed away, his face a hard mask even as the weak light swallowed up the details of his features. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." Awkwardly, Blair steadied himself, the dizziness too strong to be from just waking up. He remembered the long drive out to the remote area and the full coffee mug he'd drained. "I feel strange, man. What did you give me?"

"Just something to make it easier. Something to make you feel a little less likely to run."

"Where the hell am I going to run, man? We're out in the middle of fucking nowhere." He worked to keep the panic from racing his words too quickly, but tension twisted his gut. Letting his head fall back, he moaned as he tightened his arms to his sides. His whole body shook, the cold making his bones ache, crystal splinters shredding slowly-numbing tissues. "God, whatever it was, it's making me sick."

"You'll be all right." Despite the cold, his captor stood in shirt sleeves just a small space away.

"Man, I'm freezing."

"I know, but it's okay, Blair. We don't need a fire or blanket. We'll be fine." The cot shifted beside him as Richards sat down, his arm snaking around the smaller man's shoulders.

Too sick to pull away, he hated himself for welcoming the warmth. The nausea gripped his stomach again as he shuddered. "Tim, come on, light a fire or something. We're going to freeze to death."

"But we'll be together, Chief."

"What? What did you call me?" Jerking away suddenly, Blair glared at the man and recognized the glazed look. "Damn it, Tim, you're stoned out your head here. Shit."

"It's feels good to hold you, Chief."

"Don't fucking call me that, you asshole."

Gripping him to his chest, Richards stroked his hair. "It's what I always call you, Blair." His voice suddenly husky, he pulled him closer. "Come on, you're cold. Just lean against me and I'll keep you warm."

"You're crazy."

With a steady force, Richards held him against a solid chest, the muscles hard and well-defined under the thin T-shirt. The pain in his side woke up and started complaining.

"Stop, man, you're hurting me."

When he got no answer, he risked looking up and sideways, the profile of Richards's face too much like his friend's for comfort. The intense blue eyes, pupils dilated, stared right back. Despite being held tightly against the body, another chill brought trembling, his arms and legs cowards and traitors.

In response Richards shifted even closer, pushing his hips closer to the wall, the solid edge of the bed pressing in more hurt. He tried to pull his knees up, but a strong hand kept them still. "Just relax, Blair. Don't fight me."

"What are you going to do, man?" Memories of earlier unwanted touches and being forced down flashed through his head. Still sick to his stomach, his head spinning, he added, "Come on, Tim, just let me go."

"Never going to happen. You can't leave me."

"You know you can't get away with this. They're going to find us."

"I know."

Blair's body suddenly shifted awkwardly downward to stretch out on his side, his face toward the wall, the weighted heat spooned in behind him.

"What are you doing, man?"

"Just be still." One hand stroked his hair while another encircled his middle, a human brace against movement. "I love you, Blair. Did you know that?"

"You don't love me. You want to own me, to live another life, but it's all fantasy. You need help, Tim."

"Why can't you believe me? Why did you have to try to leave me, to betray me like that? I can't let you go, Blair. I tired, but I just can't."

Lying there, the numbness creeping into his tissues, the cold leaching his thoughts, he knew he should be terrified. Instead, he just wanted to close his eyes, to drift along and fade into the comfort of darkness. Still the droning voice whispered in his ear, the feathery touches dulled by cloudy vapors slick and icing over his skin.

"We were meant to be together. They don't understand that, want to take you away, to poison your mind against me. I can't let that happen, Blair."

"Tim, please, I am like so fucked, I can't think straight here."

"I need you to stay with me." A whiskered nudge against his neck came with soft shushes, the pets to his hair soothing. "Just rest, baby. It'll be fine."

"I'm so sleepy."

"I know. It's okay. You're mine, always."

Cold metal brushed his cheek as a strong oily scent brought his attention to the gun. Unfocused, he shook his head and then moaned as the movement tilted the world.

"Hold still, Chief. I'm going to make this easy for you. When it's time, you won't even feel it. I promise."

His sluggish tongue bungled the words, each one falling on the other. "What are you talking about, man?" Clumsy air stalled in his lungs, the breaths slow and stinging.

"They can't stop us. We'll be together. Always." A kiss touched the back of his neck, the wet heat barely a pressure.

The sudden slam of wood exploded into a jumble of shouts, shots and cordite mixed into a rolling thunder and rapid cracks. Nothing made sense, nothing fazed him as the world melted and refroze, his very bones traced with the drawing lips of a vacuum sucking away the light, his name chanted to deaf ears.

Jim jerked his head up with the unexpected tap on his shoulder. "Jesus, Simon. Don't do that." He dialed down his hearing, his lover's vitals now steady.

"Sorry. I just thought you might want some coffee." The styrofoam cup came even with his face, the bitter aroma not quite the same as Simon's brand.

"Thanks." He took the cup and put it on the table beside him, his eyes still focused on the double doors a few feet away.

"Has the doctor said anything else yet?"

"Just that I have to wait until they get him in the room and settled. That was over an hour ago." He ran an anxious hand across the top of his head, the images of his unconscious partner flashing one after another in his mind, his body too cold and unresponsive tattooed in his sensory memory.

"But he's going to be okay, Jim. We got there in time."

"I know, but, god it was so close. He could've died, Simon."

"But he didn't. And thanks to you, Richards won't be killing anyone else. Brown's going to be fine and out of here by tomorrow. Let's just try to be grateful and put this whole thing behind us."

Clearing his throat, the thick words made it difficult to speak. "I'm trying, but I guess I won't feel like it's really safe until I can sit beside him, touch him. I need to be with him, Simon."

"You will be. Just hang on a little while longer."

"It's not easy. Patience isn't exactly my strong point."

"No secret there. Still, you're doing okay. I mean, you haven't quite pulled out all your hair yet."

Fighting off a wayward grin, he shook his head. "It's just that the whole time we were racing out there, I can't describe how it felt being so powerless. I mean, it's not like this is the first time this has happened, but this was different."

"Because you love him now?"

"I always loved him, Simon, I just never really admitted to myself how much. For the first time in my life there's somebody I can't imagine living without. I know this sounds crazy, but I really don't know what I'd do without Blair."

"Doesn't sound crazy at all, Jim. Sounds like love." Leaning a little forward to put his coffee down, his voice softened. "Are you saying you never felt that way about Carolyn or anyone else before?"

"No. It wasn't the same." Rewinding history, he recalled special moments with his ex-wife, both the loving and the anger, the soft touches and the slaps to his ego.

"How so?"

"I loved Carolyn, or at least I thought I did. It hurt when she left, but I never really thought about not being able to survive. We were so different, totally separate people. Her leaving hurt, but it didn't make me think about everything in my life ending."

"You and Sandburg are different, too."

"It's not the same. We have separate lives, true. We're total opposites about so many things, that it amazes me that we get along so well."

"Sort of like complements."

"Yeah, maybe, but the thing is, there's this other part, this part I can't really explain that makes Blair part of how I define myself, how I want to measure the value of my life. He's so much a part of me now, that I just can't imagine life without him." His own hushed voice surprised him. "It scares the shit out of me sometimes, Simon."

"What? Loving Sandburg? Well, hell, I can see that."

"No, not the loving part, the needing part."

A strong hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed. "Like I said, Jim, sounds like love."

"Damn." Jim straightened, every muscle stiffened and on alert.

"What?"

"Blair's awake, but he's confused. He's asking for me." Standing, he started to pace. "I need to get in there, Simon. He'll be fine if he can just see me."

Almost on cue, Dr. Daniels came through the doorway and motioned for him. "Detective Ellison, we need you in here. Talk to your partner and get him to calm down. I want to avoid anymore sedation."

"Just lead the way."

A few steps later, Jim stood by the bedside watching Blair's panic feeding on emotional turmoil and growing stronger. Turning to the doctor and nurse, he asked, "Could you give us just a couple of minutes alone, please?"

"Sure, Detective. I'll be back in about ten minutes."

Reaching past the bed rail, he took his friend's hand. "Chief, you've got to settle down here. You're safe now."

"Jesus, Jim, is it you? I mean, really you?"

The anxious grip crushed his fingers, the body temperature still below normal, but he held on. Dark blue eyes, not completely focused met his. His free hand stroked the stubbled cheek, his touch a balm for the racing wildness. "It's me, Blair. You're going to be okay. Just got a bit too cold. They're warming you up and making sure all the drugs are out of your system before you can come home."

"Oh, man." Still caressing his cheek, Jim marveled as his mere contact calmed the frantic shaking. Blair closed his eyes, swallowing hard several times before speaking again. "I want to go home, Jim."

"I know, Chief. And you will. Tomorrow or the next day, but home or here, I'm going to stay with you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Thanks, man." Nodding, his eyes too sleepy to stay open, Blair's breathing evened out as he drifted off again.

"And I always keep my promises, Chief. Always."

"Want some more juice?"

"No, I'm fine. Really." His voice distracted, Blair continued to type into his laptop, his attention focused entirely on his screen.

"Don't you think you should finish up there and come to bed? It's after midnight. You've got a long day tomorrow."

"I'm not done yet. I've got about twenty more letters to answer, then I'll come up."

Stepping in closer, Jim stood behind his friend, his hands resting on the stiff shoulders. Gently he kneaded the knots, the tense muscles still on alert. "That can wait until morning. You've got the interview with IA at 10 and the benefit show at seven. It'll be a long one. The doctor said you needed to try and rest and take it easy for a few days, but you're working non-stop instead."

Blair leaned back into his grip, the breathing slowing, the tightness growing a little less. "I know, man, but tomorrow's the 23rd. Grades were due by the 20th and I missed the deadline completely."

"With good reason."

"Yeah, well, the grades still have to be uploaded to the computer and I'm not finished because my back up disk containing all the midterms failed. I had to pull the handwritten records for the final grades. I don't want to even think about all the work I still have to do with the computer in my office." Jim pushed his partner's head forward a little as he spoke, the neck exposed more for massaging. "Man, there's just so much to do and not enough time to do it."

"I know that, Chief, but we both know why you really don't want to come to bed." His fingers registered the immediate tightening.

"Jim, don't start. It was just a nightmare. I think I'm entitled."

"Yeah, you are, but you're also entitled to a free hug until you feel better." Leaning forward, he draped his arms around his friend's shoulders and whispered in his ear. "Come to bed, Chief. You need to sleep and I want to just hold you. All this other stuff can wait."

Reluctantly, Blair powered down and stood, turning his body to face Jim's. "I just hate thinking about it."

Drawing him closer, his hands grasped at his back, he rubbed his chin across the dark curls. "I know."

"It keeps catching me when I least expect it. I just want to pretend the whole thing never happened."

"But you can't, Chief. Take it from an expert here. That never works."

A small voice muttered against his chest. "I know, man. I just hate feeling scared all the time. And I hate having to go in there tomorrow and tell those IA guys all this private stuff."

"You could refuse to go."

"Yeah, but if I do, then you could be in trouble. You killed Richards because you had to. It's just that I know they're going to ask about everything else, all the other things Tim did to me. I don't' know if I can handle talking about that with strangers, Jim." Blair tightened his hold as he spoke, his words shaky.

"Then don't. They don't need to know that now that the prick's dead. Besides there were plenty of other witnesses, Simon and half a dozen officers for back up."

"But they're going to push it, Jim, you know that." Pulling away, Blair looked up before he added, "And what if they ask about us? What do I say?"

"What's between us is none of their business, but if you want to say we're more than work partners, you can. I don't really care if they know. The thing is, you don't have to answer. Remember Raddison?"

Squinting for a moment, his arms still wrapped around Jim's middle, Blair nodded. "Yeah, a lawyer, right?"

"Right. I called him and he's going into the meeting with you."

"I thought you hated his ass?"

"I do, but that doesn't mean he's not good at his job. He's promised to watch out for you."

"But why?"

"Let's just say that it's in his best interest to finish this thing with Richards as soon as possible." He took Blair's hand and started upstairs. "Now, come on. It's time for some serious sleeping, my friend."

Blair continued asking questions as he followed Jim up the stairs. "I don't understand. Why should he care about Tim and what he did?"

"I can't prove it, but I think Richards was blackmailing him, which would explain why he warned me about him in the first place."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jim motioned to Blair's pants. "You need to get undressed, Chief. Let's lose those sweats and that top shirt."

While Blair stripped down to his boxers and tee, his mouth kept working. "So, it was Raddison who told you I was seeing Tim, right?"

"Right."

"And that's because he was being blackmailed?" He shook his head as he put his clothes on the chair before climbing in beside Jim now propped up against the headboard under the covers. "And he wants to help me, because the sooner this whole thing closes, the less he has to worry about the information behind the blackmail being revealed."

Jim brought him against his chest, their bodies connected, only thin cotton fabric between them. "You'd make a pretty good detective, Sandburg."

"Bite your tongue, man."

"I'd rather bite yours." The body in his arms stiffened once again. "Well, that was a stupid thing to say. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, Blair."

"Don't be. It's me." After several deep breaths, Blair relaxed again, this time his left hand over Jim's heart. "I'm just really having a hard time dealing with all this. I thought I could handle it, but I never expected it to be so intense all the time."

"And it could be intense for awhile, Chief. Give yourself a break here. It's only been a few days. Add all the other stuff going on with school and Christmas, well, no wonder you're a little uptight and nervous."

"Yeah, well, I hate spoiling the holidays, man. I wanted this year to be so different."

Holding his breath just a little, Jim asked, "Different how?"

"I wanted us to be together, maybe just the two of us for some of the time."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, man. I mean, I know you usually work, but I was kind of hoping you could take some time off. I'd really like that."

Breathing easier, the joy of finally getting a needed invitation lacing his spirit, he whispered. "I'd like that, too, Chief. Consider it done. I'll tell Simon tomorrow."

"It won't be a problem?"

"Not at all." Smiling to himself, he laughed enough for Blair to look up.

"What is it?"

"Simon wanted us to go to his mom's house on Christmas day."

"Yeah? Think we should go?"

"Well, it wouldn't bother me, but Simon has plans to have his mother aim her turkey and gravy in your direction instead of his. Seems he thinks you've got a skinny ass that needs stuffing."

Blair grinned and then snuggled in closer. "Well, the stuffing sounds good, but we'll have to do it later. I'm too tired to enjoy it."

"Is that a promise?"

"Sure thing. And, Jim?"

"What?"

"You're not the only one who can keep a promise, man."

"Then promise me this, Chief."

"Okay, what?"

"If things get too tough, promise me you'll tell me. I want to help."

"I already know that." Blair pulled his knees up and scooted in closer, his breathing already more steady and slower.

"I want you to promise me."

"Okay, man. I promise."

The weight of total relaxation cushioned the warm breaths against his body as his friend drifted into sleep. Holding him there, his hand slowly stroking his back, he whispered softly to his guide. "Merry Christmas, Chief."

The end

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