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

Title: A Father's Words
Author: Grey
Email: Grey853@aol.com
Rating: NC-17, sex, bad language
Pairing: J/B
Status: New, complete
Date: June 15, 1998
Archive: Yes, or link to the site
Series/Sequel: No
Other website: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dimension/3837/index2.html

Summary: Jim struggles to come to terms with his father.

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, but we share a symbiotic mutualism. I just couldn't resist playing with them again.

Warnings: This is a difficult story which contains a lot of bad language and disturbing, hateful ideas. Nothing new there.

Author's notes: This is my Father's Day story.

A Father's Words
By Grey

"Jim, where did you put that article I was reading? I had it right here and now it's gone." Blair Sandburg frantically shuffled through the massive stack of magazines and folders on the kitchen table. His reading glasses slipped to the end of his nose and he pushed them back with the same impatience that had him wrapping his stubborn hair back behind his right ear.

"What makes you think I touched your stuff, Chief? Where's your evidence?" Jim leaned against the brick wall of the loft, arms crossed, watching his lover with amusement. Blair might be the brightest man he'd ever met, but he certainly didn't win prizes as most organized.

"Come on, man. You're the only one here."

"Sounds purely circumstantial to me, Chief."

"Stop kidding around here, Jim. Where'd you put it? I really need it to finish this paper."

Moving from the wall, Jim stepped over and stood behind his partner. Wrapping a long arm around his waist, he pulled him closer. "Settle down, baby. I swear I didn't touch that stuff. I've got other things to handle."

Aroused by the salty scent of fresh sweat, he pushed the long dark curls out of the way and kissed the back of Blair's neck. The catch of the younger man's breath as he fell back into his grip spurred him on to nibble and lick around the side and gently bite the left earlobe, using his tongue to tug at the two ear rings. Each nip brought on deeper breathing and a backward grinding of hips. Rubbing his hands down around to the chest, he massaged the hard nipples beneath the soft brush of flannel.

"God, Jim, what are you doing?" The breathy words vibrated up through his cheek as he continued to run his hands downward until his right one cupped the growing bulge between his guide's legs.

"Touching your stuff, Chief." Listening to breathing becoming ever more raspy and ragged pleased him. "You like that, baby?"

"Jesus, Jim. We've got to go to the station."

"So? What's your point, Sandburg?" He reached up and took off Blair's glasses and returned to sucking on the side of his lover's slender throat. The racing heartbeat kept pace with the rising heat blazing off his young guide. Jim pumped his groin into Blair's backside, rubbing hardest against the seam. Quickly he reached around to undo the button and zipper and then jerked both jeans and boxers down around his friend's ankles. He growled, "Step out, Chief."

Blair obeyed without protest, and then trembled harder when Jim used a strong knee to part his legs. Panting urged him on as his usually vocal companion merely whimpered and moaned. Dropping his own pants, Jim then leaned across the muscled backside, his erect cock already leaking. He pushed the books onto the floor with a crash to make more room.

"Oh, god. Jim..please."

"Please, what, baby? What do you want?" Pressing the body beneath him into the table, he used one finger to gather some pre-cum to slick the puckered opening. Blair's tight body quivered with his touch. The silky heat wrapped both fingers as he pushed and scissored them in further to the sound of gasps and uncontrolled groaning. The fiery flesh held his hand entranced until the throbbing between his own legs threatened to leap into pain. "You ready, baby?

"Jim, condom, man."

"No, time." He pushed a few more times, slicking the cleft, listening to excited breathing.

"Take time. Go get it. Now. Shit." Leaning harder on to the table, Blair banged his forehead several times into the wood. "Hurry up, man. I'm dying here."

"Damn it, Chief." Pulling away, Jim ran up the stairs, snatched up the condom and lube from the night stand, and managed to tear open the package by the time he'd returned to his former position. Quickly sheathing himself, he added lube and then spooned himself across his lover's back.

"Satisfied?" He pushed lube deep into the loosened ring, and got a major shudder and cry for his effort.

"Oh, my god, please." Grinning at his guide's pleas, he shifted his cock closer, the crown between the cheeks. Steadily, he eased the tip into the tight channel, a furnace blazing up into his groin, his teeth clenched to save from biting off his tongue. Forcing himself to wait for the familiar relaxing stretch, he saw the gripping fists of his lover at the table's edges, heard his heart thundering hard enough to burst.

"Come on, Jim. Please. Do it." The sudden push back from his partner, prompted the thrusting to begin, each quick push a victory, inch by inch, until his balls rested flush on Blair's rounded ass. He reached out and grabbed Blair's hands holding them both away from his body, while he used his hips to pump harder and faster, the friction building a monumental, glorious fire. In matching rhythm he moved in as Blair's hips came back, flesh against naked flesh, each fuzz of hair real to sentinel touch. Every texture formed a ripple, a ridge to add to sensation, to tease his cock to a painful hardness. The air roared and crackled inside him as his own bones protested the punishment of his powerful drives forward and back. Legs trembled and sweat poured down his face, over his chest, and between the two bodies as he forced himself to piston even harder. His eyeballs pounded in their sockets, protesting their bone cages, dark walls against the mock of visions. Waves of circular pressure surged down from his belly, centered in his cock with a blast of paralysis supreme as the muscular ring gripped him in a lock too tight to imagine. Screaming out, his bowed back arched him forward, unmoving and trapped in a round of spasms that took away his breathing along with the need of anymore heat or light.

Several minutes later, slumped and relaxed, his vision and breathing returned. Squirming and shifting beneath him caught his attention. His voice still husky, he whispered into his guides's ear. "I love you in the morning, Chief."

"Oh, man, Jim. You're killing me here."

Letting go of his partner's hands, the older man braced himself on the table and eased away slowly, holding the condom in place. Even the sensation of withdrawal twitched his memory and he then removed the protection and tossed it quickly away.

"God, Chief. You feel so great every time I touch you."

"Touch is right, man." Taking a deep breath, Blair gradually stood up, careful to keep his balance. Lifting his shirt, he looked down and groaned. He traced the long single indentation across his belly while he spoke. "How much you want to bet this bruises?"

Reaching over for a quick belly rub, Jim laughed. "If it does, I'll kiss it and make it better tonight."

Blair grinned and licked his lips. "Promise?"

"You bet. Now, we'd better get cleaned up. We've got to be at the station in less than half an hour."

"I tried to tell you that." Blair bent over to pull up his jeans to go change before he added, "Jim?"

"What?" Jim, already dressed again, busied himself picking up Blair's magazines and books while he spoke.

"What brought this on? I mean, you've never done that."

Smiling, being deliberately obtuse, Jim asked, "Done what, Chief? Touched your stuff?"

"You know what I mean. You're usually not quite so spontaneous. I mean, I usually have to make a date for later, you know." Blair blushed a little while he bent down to help sort though his scattered papers.

Concerned by the tone, Jim cupped his lover's chin and brought his shy eyes up to meet his own. "Did it bother you?"

"No, man, not at all. I mean, damn, Jim, it was so hot. It's just that I was wondering what was going on. This doesn't have anything to do with the Mullins case, does it?"

Looking away, almost angry, Jim snapped. "Of course not. Why would you even say that?"

"You didn't sleep much last night. I just wondered if what he said yesterday bothered you."

"Of course, it bothered me. The guy's a first class bastard, but it's got nothing to do with us." Staring into concerned blue eyes, Jim shook his head and spoke softly. "I love you, Chief. I wanted to show it. That's all."

Blushing bright red, Blair smiled, "Thanks, man. I love you, too."

He looked away and stood up as he put the last of the papers on the table. Picking one up he chuckled. "Hey, Sandburg, I think I found the article you said I moved."

"Yeah?" As Jim continued to laugh even harder, Blair stared at the magazine. A dark, wet stain warped the entire page. "Oh, man...."

"Nothing like putting everything you've got into your work, Chief."

"Funny, Jim. Throw it away. I'll borrow another one from Janet at school. I'm going to go take a shower and pray I have another pair of clean jeans."

Putting the ruined book in the sink, Jim smiled. "Not so fast, babe. We've already done that once this morning. There's not enough hot water for two more showers. Guess that means I'll have take one with you."

Snorting to himself, Blair rubbed his backside. "Man, Jim, you are like such a pig sometimes."

"Only for the good stuff, babe. Now, hurry. Simon's going to be pissed if we're late again this morning." Putting his hand at the small of Blair's back, he guided him down the hall. "You know, I was never late before you came into my life."

"Oh, yeah, Jim. That's great. Lay it on me."

"Every chance I get, babe."

"Ellison, my office, and bring Sandburg." Simon Banks, arms crossed, stood at his doorway waiting while Jim and Blair didn't even bother to stop by the detective's own desk.

"Look, Captain, I know what you're going to say." Jim put up his hands, ready to continue talking when his superior cut him off.

"I don't want to hear any excuses right now, Jim. Come on in and sit down. Both of you." His voice snapped out the command.

"What's going on, sir?" Jim sat down, uneasy with his friend's gruff manner.

The captain tapped a paper on his desk while he chewed his cigar with a passion. "I just got this in from the Chief. Seems Mr. Mullins has filed a formal complaint."

"Listen, Simon, I can explain."

"Did you call the man an asshole?" Dark eyes connected directly with Jim's as he spoke.

Returning the stare, Jim nodded. "Yes."

"Jesus, Jim. Do you have any idea what that means? The man's son is dead and you're the investigator. I don't care if the guy's Hitler's cousin, you can't go around calling him an asshole for christsakes."

"But, Simon, you didn't hear what the guy said."

"Shut up, Sandburg. I don't want to hear anything from you just yet." Blair flinched back from the verbal slap.

"There's no reason to get hateful to Blair, sir. It's my fault and I'll take responsibility. I should've had better control."

"You're damn right you should have." The captain suddenly stopped talking and glanced over at the young man, who stared down at his hands. "Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to snap like that."

"It's okay." Blair shrugged, but still didn't look up.

"No, it's not. I was mad at Jim and I took it out on you. Sorry. I mean that."

The young man raised a hand, scratching his head before he spoke quietly. "I said it's okay, Simon, but you really should hear Jim's side of the story. I mean, I know he was wrong to call the guy an asshole even if he is, but you didn't hear what Mullins said. He was way out of line and downright abusive."

"You don't have to make excuses for me, Chief."

"I'm not making excuses, Jim. But, Simon has a right to know the whole story."

The captain moved to the front of the desk and sat on the edge. "And what is that story, Sandburg?"

"Look, sir, I don't want Blair in this. I'll apologize and hope that's enough. If not, suspend me."

Simon frowned and put up both hands. "Wait a minute, Jim. What's going on here? What did the guy say anyway?"

"It doesn't matter what he said. I'm investigating his son's murder. I've been trained to handle people in those situations and I failed to do that. I let his comments about his son and his personal attacks against me and my partner get to me. I'll take the consequences of that."

"Hell, he must have been a real asshole to get this kind of response."

"You don't know the half of it, Simon." Blair shifted and sat up straighter in his seat. The leather strap holding his damp hair failed to control all the escaping wisps forming fuzzy curls around his face.

"Stop it, Chief. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Jim. Even a cop shouldn't have to stand there and be abused like that."

"I should've just left."

"That's easy to say now, but he was in your face, Jim. I'm surprised you didn't hit him."

"I wanted to." The words came out slow and steady, solid with the truth.

The captain stood up from the desk and then sat down at the head of the table between the two men. "Okay, let's start from the top. What exactly happened, and I want the whole thing."

As Blair started to speak, Jim held up a staying hand. "Don't, Chief. I'll tell it. You be quiet." Looking up, he saw the hurt expression rounding the blue eyes. "Sorry, Blair. I need to say this my own way, okay?"

"Okay."

"I knew Danny Mullins when we were growing up, Simon."

"What? You never said anything when the call came in. Why not?" Concern creased his dark features as he spoke.

"At first I didn't remember. It wasn't until I saw some pictures in the house that I put his face with some of my memories of high school."

"So, I guess he'd changed a lot since then?"

"No, not really, it's just I didn't want to remember."

"Oh." Simon glanced over at Blair who stared directly at Jim, his hand over his mouth as if to contain his anxious voice. "So, you're saying it was another one of those repression things, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I didn't remember at the beginning, but as soon as I saw the photos and started talking to Mullins, I flashed on some other ugly times with the old man. He was a hateful bastard even when we were growing up. Danny and I played football together. Actually we were kind of close." Jim's voice choked and faltered on the last words.

"Close? How close?" Tension squeezed the words as Simon tried to remain calm.

"Let's just say he was my first time and leave it at that."

"Oh, shit." Simon leaned back in his chair and sucked on his cigar, watching the misery play across steely blue eyes. Sighing, he moved forward again, resting his weight on his elbows. "So, did Mr. Mullins know this?"

"Yes. He recognized the name and when he saw me, he didn't start in right away. He made a few comments that didn't make any sense to me at first, not until I saw the picture and then boom, there I was again standing there being berated by a man who hated both me and his son."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, when his dad found out Danny was gay, he beat the shit out of him and told my dad about me. He talked about how he wasn't surprised by Danny getting killed, that it was probably the punishment from god or some such shit. Then, he wanted to know how the cops could have fucking queers as detectives. Said he wondered if the public knew what kind of perverts were being hired to protect them. At first, I let it go. I mean, like I said, I've been trained to deal with assholes, but then he asked how I could bring my faggot partner along."

"Shit."

"Yeah, well, that's when I called him an asshole and left."

Shoving away from the table, Simon stood up and started pacing. "Well, this is a mess."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

Simon stopped moving, his dark eyes focused on his best detective. "Don't be. Frankly, I'm with the kid on this one. I'm surprised you didn't punch him out."

Jim stared down at his clasped hands, his fingers tightly wrapped. The pressure of clenched teeth twitched his jaw in an irregular rhythm. "It's just that I never wanted to confront that part of my past again."

Clearing his throat for a moment, he spoke with a husky wet tone. "After he told my dad, he never looked at me the same again, you know. He didn't talk to me for months except to punish or send me away. I hated Mullins for that." With a quiet whisper, he added, "I hated my father, too."

Blair sat at the table, his eyes too bright, watching his lover hang his head with the weight of confession. Finally, Jim looked up at his speechless captain and swallowed hard. "That's still no excuse for now, sir. I'll apologize, but I don't want to remove myself from the case. I've got a very good lead on the prime suspect. I should have enough evidence by this afternoon to arrest Danny's lover, a guy named Jimmy Stiles." Jim shifted uneasily in his seat, waiting for an answer.

"Okay, Jim. I'll talk to the Chief. I'll give him some of the details, but only what he needs to know. Finish up by this afternoon and I let you know about writing that apology to Mullins."

"Writing it, sir?" Jim frowned, placing his hands palm down on the table.

"I don't want you to have to see the man again if you don't have to. Of course, you may run into him in court if he bothers to go to the trial of his son's murderer, but we'll just have to wait and see. I want to defuse this if I can."

"Thank you, Simon."

Simon stood up and stepped to the window. After a few moments he spoke in a low, serious tone. "Jim, I know you two aren't out at the station yet, but it might be time to consider it. I mean, if this Mullins decides to go to the media, it might help to already have support in place."

"Support or ammunition?" Jim's words sounded harsh in the small room.

Simon turned and stared, his eyes tight with confusion. "What's that supposed to mean, Jim? Do you really think that most of the people in this department will turn against the both of you if they know for sure what they already suspect?"

"What we do in private is nobody's business."

"Jim, you're a detective, so open your eyes. Most people around here already think you guys are a couple, but they don't care because they know you do the job, and frankly, they also know it's none of their business. The others haven't wanted to know. The thing is, if this hits the papers like this, there could be a backlash. There's no policy in place right now to cover this sort of thing. Something tells me you don't want to be the test case."

Blair's shaky voice asked, "Could that happen, Simon?"

"I hope not, but it could."

"It's not going to happen, Chief. I'd quit first."

"What? No way, man. You love this job."

"This job can go to hell if the people in charge decide to fuck with my personal life. I'm not going to be on display with this, Chief. Forget it."

"Is that because you're ashamed?"

Jerking his head up to meet questioning eyes, Jim shook his head. "No, Blair, I'm not ashamed. I love you and in a perfect world we wouldn't even be having this conversation. The thing is, I'm not going to let our personal life become a target for bigots and narrow-minded assholes like Mullins and my father. I just won't. I'm sorry, but if it becomes an issue, they can take the job and screw themselves."

Simon's gravely voice interrupted. "Settle down, Jim. It won't come to that. You're the best detective on the force for christsakes. Just give me some time to contain this mess before you go off half-cocked talking about quitting."

"I'll try, Simon. But I mean what I say."

"Well, hell, Jim, I already know that. I just hope it doesn't play out that way. I'd hate to lose you or the kid, especially over something like this. It wouldn't be right."

"Of course, it wouldn't, sir. Prejudice never is."

"That's why we can't let them win, Jim." Blair's voice sailed between the men as they both turned to face the younger man. "If Mullin's does make a stink, we have to fight."

"No, Blair."

"Yes, JIM."

Simon shook his head. "I'm going to leave you two alone."

Blair stood up and picked up the folder he'd brought with him. "Don't bother, Simon. Jim and I have a job to do. Right, Jim?"

Seeing the familiar stubborn set of Blair's jaw, Jim released the tension from his own body slowly. Shaking his head, a grin finally playing at his lips, Jim answered crisply. "Right, Chief."

"Well, we got lucky on this one, Jim. Stiles confessed and Mullins dropped the complaint."

"Yeah, lucky." Jim stood by the window staring out at a sunny day that made no dent in the darkness that narrowed his view.

"Listen, Jim, about earlier."

"What? You come up with some new advice about how to handle my personal life?"

"No, damn it. Would you please stop putting words in my mouth. I'm not your enemy here."

Grinding his teeth, Jim crossed his arms and turned. "I know that, Simon. I'm sorry."

"I know. Look, I just think that maybe there are some other issues you need to deal with, and I'm not just talking about you and Sandburg or the press."

Puzzled, Jim frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father."

Jim stood straighter, his voice suddenly cold. "What about him?"

"Maybe you should talk to him. After the strangler case, I thought you two might get back on speaking terms."

"I don't want to talk about this, Simon. I shouldn't have brought him up."

Simon stood and stepped next to his friend. "Jim, he's your father. Now, I know he made some mistakes, but father's do that. I'd hate to imagine what Daryl's going to think of me when he grows up."

Bringing his head up, Jim blinked hard to clear his vision. "He's going to thank god he got lucky if he's got any sense, which thanks to you and his mom, he does."

"Jim."

"No, let me finish, Simon." Jim paced as he spoke, his voice hoarse from words scraping through a constricted throat. "You care for your son, listen to him. Sure you've made some mistakes, but you've never turned away, made him feel like some kind of freak, like there was something so wrong with him that you couldn't stand to have him the same house."

Simon sank back in his chair as Jim settled into the other. Raising a hand to his lips, the detective worked to compose himself before he continued. "My father made me push everything so far down that I didn't even know myself, Simon. These things I've repressed, they scare me. I keep wondering what else I've pushed away. It's like I'm walking around getting ambushed all the time lately. Every time I turn around there's another ghost sticking a gun in my face."

"Have you talked to Blair about this?"

"No, not really. He tries to get me to talk about it, but I just can't, not with him."

"I don't understand."

Scooting forward in the chair, Jim put his hands in front of him, templing the fingers. Lines creased his brow with tension. "He wants me to see my father, too. Says that until I do, I won't be able to deal with any of this negative energy."

"That sounds like the kid."

Jim smiled briefly before returning to grim. "Yeah, well, Blair never had a father. That in itself is a big issue with him. I know that he doesn't understand that in some ways he was better off not knowing the damage that a father's words can cause. Every hateful one can slice right to the bone, Simon."

Simon took out a cigar and lit it, extending the silence between them. Finally he spoke slowly. "I don't think you give him enough credit, Jim. Sure, he never had a dad, but he knows what rejection feels like. Besides, even if he doesn't fully get it, he can be there for you. Regardless of all that, you still need to settle this for yourself, not for me or Blair or anyone else. You, Jim Ellison, need to settle this for you."

"I don't know how I can."

"You have to go see your father."

His head falling forward, Jim closed his eyes, his voice sinking low. "I know."

Coming into the loft, Jim smelled the rich aromas of dinner. Ah, Blair in comfort mode. He liked that. Smiling to himself, he put his light jacket on the hook and walked up behind his partner at the stove. "Hey, Babe."

Using one hand to come back over his own head, Blair cupped the back of Jim's skull. "Hi, Jim." As soon as he dropped the last of the herbs in the boiling water, he turned. "How are you doing?"

Jim stared into the full blue of Blair's eyes as they searched his own. Bringing his lips forward, his mouth found his partner's. Tongue tip pressed forward into wet heat. He drown himself in the sensation of kissing his lover, gliding past the roughness of teeth and gums, sliding to the back of his throat. A few moments later he pulled back and caressed his whiskered cheek. "I'm fine, baby."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely fine, man. That was nice." Smiling widely, Blair turned back around and started pulling down the plates and glasses. "Here, set the table. Everything's almost ready."

"Smells good. What are we having?" Noticing the already cleared table, Jim picked up the dishes and did as he was told.

"Chicken and rice with green beans. Salad's done. Bought some fancy French cheese cake and some even fancier French wine on the way home, too."

"Jesus, Chief. Are we celebrating something?"

Blair stopped moving and turned, a teasing smile on his lips. "I'm celebrating the fact that I love you, Jim. You're welcome to join me. Interested?"

"You bet." The young man brought the serving dish over and started laughing as he set it down. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how we were using this table just a few hours ago."

"Yeah, I remember that, too. That bruise okay, Chief?" Chuckling, Jim walked over and grabbed his lover around the waist, lifting his shirt. The purple discoloration stretched across his midsection. Humor gone, Jim frowned. "My god, Blair. It really did bruise."

Lifting his hand to stroke Jim's face, Blair whispered, "It's okay, baby. I loved it. Besides, it's not the first bruise you've given me or that I've given you for that matter."

"But I never want to hurt you."

"The only way to do that is to stop loving me and that's never going to happen. Now, stop being maudlin and kiss it like you promised."

Falling to his knees, Jim put his hands on both sides of Blair's waist and then tenderly touched his lips to the line starting at the left. With a whole series of tiny smacks and licks he worked his way across, the stomach muscles tensed against his mouth. "Oh, man, now that's better."

Petting the top of Jim's head, Blair finally pulled back. "Okay, that's enough for now."

Looking up, his eyes greedy and wicked, Jim begged, "Come on, Chief, I'm not finished with the appetizer yet."

"Man, you keep going like that and we won't get dinner."

"Well, one of us will." Jim continued licking and sucking at Blair's exposed belly, paying particular attention to the navel. He loved the tickle of the furry hair all along the clean skin, each single strand a twist and unique flavor. He started on the dark pubic line heading south, but found two more forceful hands tugging at the side of his head.

"Come on, Jim, that feels great, but later, okay?"

Disappointed, but admittedly hungry, Jim rested his forehead against the skin for a moment longer. He found it hard to dispel the fog of desire that clouded his thoughts and made his whole body more dreamy. With great effort, he rose to his feet, his awakened cock, angry.

"You're such a tease, Sandburg."

"You started it. Now, sit down and let's eat. I want you fully fueled before we start anything really athletic. Besides, we need to talk."

"Talk?" All lust evaporated, replaced by heavy dread. "Unless it's about the Jags, I'm not in the mood, Chief."

"Jim, let's just eat, okay?"

Shaking his head, a uncontrollable rage swelled up into his chest. Before he could stop himself, Jim walked over to the door, and grabbed his jacket and keys. "I'm going out for awhile. Go ahead without me."

"Jim? Come on, man. Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything, Chief. I'm not staying and I'm not talking about this anymore. I know what you're going to say and I appreciate it, but I just can't talk about it."

"Okay, man, just don't walk out."

"I'm not walking, I'm driving. I'll see you later."

Slamming the door behind him, sentinel ears heard, "Well, shit. You sure fucked that up, Sandburg."

Jim stopped before he reached the exit steps. "Damn it, Blair." Taking a deep breath, the older man stood there for a several minutes, before he finally turned around.

Walking back inside, he found his lover sitting on the couch, his legs tucked up under him, his hair hanging down like a soft brown veil. Red-rimmed eyes met his. "I'm sorry, Chief. This isn't your fault."

"I just hate when you hurt so much, Jim. No matter what I do, I can't seem to make it any better. I always seem to say or do the wrong thing."

"Oh, Blair, listen, that's not true." Jim scooted next to his guide and brought him into his arms. Stroking back the thick curls, he kissed his neck and spoke softly, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here."

"What are you talking about? Of course, you'd be here."

"No, I wouldn't. You make my senses work just like you make my life work. Before you came along, I was such a mess. You just have no idea how bad it got, Blair. There were times, Chief, when I really wanted to quit the whole thing."

"You mean being a cop?"

"No, I mean everything." The gravity of the words weighed heavy between them. "Now, I could never do that. That's because you've made me feel like I'm important and not just because of the sentinel business. I never had that before."

"Never?"

"Never, Chief." He pulled back and stared into his guide's incredulous face. "I was different. I had to hide everything. To do that, I had to close down, shut everything off. I couldn't let anyone too close, not even Carolyn. No one. With you I've learned I don't have to do that. It's saved my life, Babe."

Very gently, Blair rested his face on the older man's chest while he spoke very quietly. "Jim, I love you, man. I know it's been hard on you not having a mom and being separated from you dad. I know that's why you close off like you do and push everyone away. I'm grateful you've let me inside."

"Grateful, Chief? I love you."

"I know. But as much as you say I've given you, you've done the same for my life. The thing is, it's because I love you that I hate to see the wounds you carry go on hurting you like they do." As Jim tried to pull back, Blair quickly grabbed him around the middle and held tight. "No way, man. You have to hear this. Get pissed if you want, but listen."

"Okay, I'm listening."

"Talking to your dad, man, it's important. I just have this feeling that until you do that, your soul's going to keep limping around half lost."

His chin set atop Blair's head, Jim frowned, taking in the meaning of what his guide tried to say. "My soul's limping?"

"Yeah, man, it is." Easing his grip, Blair sat back and met Jim's solemn gaze. "I know it's not easy. Nobody gets the same script and we get pissed when the other guy doesn't do or say what we want or expect them to. Even so, we've got to keep trying. We have to know we've done everything we could to get the message across. Your father made some big mistakes, Jim. I'm not saying he didn't, but he's older now. I saw the way he looked at you and he loves you, man. He doesn't know how to show it the way you want him to, but he does. You need to give him the opportunity to try. You need to settle things as much as you can between you before it's too late."

Jim turned away, resting his arms on his thighs. "What if it's already too late? What if I can't get past this?"

"It's never too late for one more chance, and as for getting past it, that's up to you."

Letting his head sag a little, almost in defeat, Jim talked in a hush. "You're not going to let this go are you."

"I can't afford to let it go, Jim. I saw how much what you said about your father cost you today. The pain is still raw. The past still has power over you until you face it."

Letting himself settle into the supporting arms of the smaller man, Jim burrowed his face into the soft shirt cloth, the buttons rubbing against his cheek. Strong hands stroked his face, while he spoke. "I'm older. I'm supposed to be the wise one."

"An old wiseguy maybe."

"Funny, Chief. Seriously, I hear what you're saying and I'll think about it."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I'm holding you to it, Jim." Closing his eyes, the sentinel drifted in the cradle of his guide's arms. Too tired to think anymore, drowsy from an exhausting day, he floated into the warm flood of jungle visions. The slightest touch from Blair's caress made him safe from the threat of harsh, unwanted words. Tomorrow danger's lived far away, as distant as repressed memories and as remote as forgotten dreams.

"Hi, Jimmy. I'm glad you're here." William Ellison held out a hand to direct his son into his house. "I take it, you got my message."

"Message? What message?" Jim walked inside and stood in the middle of the hallway, uncomfortable and unsure of where to go. His father led the way to the living room, richly decorated, but strangely empty.

"I called the station yesterday. Said I needed to talk to you. You didn't get it?"

"No."

"Then why are you here? It's been awhile." The older man tilted his head, confused.

Flustered, Jim put his hands deep in his pockets to keep himself rooted. He hated his own nervousness, his own ability to be in control. A little boy stood in his place, a boy too frightened to say what he really needed to say. "Sunday's father's day. I thought it was time we talked. Maybe straightened a few things out."

"Father's day? Hell, Jimmy, except for that murder case, I haven't seen you in fifteen years. What's really going on? You never were much on bullshit. No reason to start now. I have to say it was one of the few things I always liked about you."

His stomach already tight, Jim swallowed hard before he could speak. "So, why'd you leave a message?"

"Oh, that. Well, it seems Carl Mullins called me about you. Sorry to hear about his son, by the way. At any rate, he wanted to start some crusade about gays in public service. Some foolishness about stirring things up."

Crossing his arms tightly around his chest, Jim forced himself to stay calm, to keep the fierce anger out of his voice. "And what did you say?"

Greyish blue eyes looked up and locked on to a matching younger set. "You're my son, Jimmy. What do you think I said?"

"I don't know, Dad. I don't really know what you'd say."

"Really." Disappointment colored the words as he sagged down heavily onto the couch. "I told him it was bad enough his son died. That was a shame, but that if he tried to hurt you by bringing in that gay stuff, I was going to have to tell his boss about some things he'd probably rather not have known about himself. We all have secrets, Jimmy."

Stepping back a moment, Jim stared in bewilderment at the man before. "You blackmailed him?"

"No, I reasoned with him. Jimmy, I know I haven't always done the right thing, though believe me I tried. Everything I did, I did to protect you."

"Protect me? Dad, you knew about my senses and you treated me like I was some kind of freak. How do you think that made me feel?"

"I didn't want you to be different, Jimmy. I was doing the best I could. Your mom was gone. I mean, who do you talk to about a kid who sees and hears things he shouldn't? I was afraid they'd take you away. You kept freezing up."

"What do you mean freezing up?"

"You don't remember? You'd just stand or sit there for hours staring off into space. I had an uncle who did that and they thought he was crazy. They locked him away. Jimmy, I couldn't risk that. So, yeah, I told you to hide it, to pretend like it wasn't true. What else was I supposed to do?"

Shaking his head, basking in his own misery, Jim spoke, his words almost a mutter. "I don't know. I just know it made me feel like you hated me."

"I never hated you, Jimmy. I just didn't know how to deal with someone so different. Then when it turned out that you were queer, too, well, that's when I decided to do everything I could to change it."

Sadly, his body tired and aching, Jim sat down in a chair near the end of the couch. "You don't change someone from being gay, Dad."

"Well, I thought I could. Back then we didn't know much about why someone would be that way. I mean, I thought maybe it was because you didn't have a mother or because I did something wrong. I mean I thought I had to do something so Steven wouldn't be hurt."

"Jesus, Dad. You actually thought I'd hurt my own brother?" The air in the room shifted to a heavy vapor, too stubborn to drag in. Jim found himself struggling to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy. It was crazy. I know that now. But it was a different time back then. Besides, I still don't understand. You were married before. How could you still be gay?"

"I'm bisexual, Dad. I loved my wife, but it didn't work out. It had nothing to do with being gay or straight. Sex wasn't our problem."

Clearing his throat, the older man looked away. "Well, I don't get it. I just don't understand why you'd want to do that sort of thing with another man, but, I'm not going to judge you, Jimmy. It's your life. I just didn't want Mullins to screw around and make it harder. It's bound to difficult to be that way even nowadays. You're a cop. I'm sure they're not real happy about having a queer working for them."

"Dad, I really don't like that word and, frankly, my friends don't care. People who have a problem with me or with Blair, don't really matter to me."

"Blair? Is that young man I met last time, the guy with the long curly hair? He's your partner?"

"Yes, at work and for life."

Standing up, William Ellison walked over to the window. "Damn it, Jimmy. Why do you always go the hardest way? Why can't you just be like everybody else? Like Steven? He's married and has kids."

Pushing the anger away, he stood and faced his father. "It was a mistake to come here. I'm leaving."

Reaching out, his father grabbed his arm before he made it to the door. "Wait. I'm sorry. Jimmy, you have to believe I love you no matter what you are."

"Love me? And how do you show that? By constantly telling me how different I am? Jesus, Dad, every time you look at me, it's like you cringe at the sight, like I'm some kind of failure, a disappointment."

"Then I guess you could say we're even then."

All words stopped as the two men stared at one another. Jim pulled his arm away and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry. It's just so hard to get past this."

"I know. But, Jimmy, I want to do that. I swear I want to try. I mean, look at me. I'm your father. At least give me another chance. I'll try to accept this thing. It's just hard to get used to."

"What? That I'm gay or that this freak could be your son?"

Shaking his head in frustration, William tried harder. "I never called you a freak, Jimmy. I don't believe that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't. I know you're special and I want to at least be some part of your life while I still have time."

"You're not that old, Dad." Jim stared at his father, seeing the wrinkles and bent shoulders as if for the first time.

"We're being honest here, Jimmy. I screwed up. I tried, but I messed up big time. Hell, it seems like every time I open my mouth, I'm pissing you off. I don't mean to. I just need a little help to understand what I need to do to make it right. I'll take any test you want to give me."

Nodding, an idea expanding in his head, the knots loosened in his stomach. "You'd take a test? Really?"

"Whatever you want."

"Then, I've got just the man to talk to."

"That's right, Mr. Ellison. In pre-civilized cultures people like your son here were the watchmen. They were the sentinels who kept the tribe safe. His enhanced senses are a wonderful gift that allow him in modern times to do the same thing." Blair's voice floated like music through the loft. His animated hands punctuated his words as he talked about his favorite subject. Jim leaned back against the center beam, legs crossed at the ankles, drinking a beer. He loved listening to his guide's voice.

"So, what you're saying here, is that back in those days, my son would be like the main guard against the enemy?"

"Yeah, which is one of the reasons why I think Jim's so good at being a cop. It's the modern day equivalent to what those ancient warriors used to do."

William Ellison sat next to Blair fully engrossed in the conversation. "So, what's your part in this? What's a guide again?"

"Sometimes when Jim focuses so hard on one sense, he zones out on all the others. Like he might be looking at a piece of evidence 100 yards away, but he's so into that deal that he doesn't hear or sense anything else. That makes him vulnerable. I watch his back in case something comes along that could hurt him."

His father stared over at Jim, his eyes misty. "When you were a kid and got all quiet, do you think that's what was happening?"

"I don't know, Dad. I don't really remember."

"But it would make sense if that were the reason. God, Jimmy, I wish I'd known all this. It could've made such a difference."

Taking another drink, Jim studied the face of his father. He saw the twitching of the jaw that reminded him so much of himself. "The past is over, Dad. The thing is, does it make a difference now?"

"I want things to be different."

"Then they will be."

"Cool, man." Blair bounced up off the couch and stood between the two men, his hair wild and free around his face. "Hey, Mr. Ellison, we've got some cheesecake. Would you like some?"

"Sure. That'd be nice, Mr. Sandburg."

"Call me, Blair. After all, I'm trying to be a good son-in-law here."

Expecting a flinch or at the very least a groan, Jim found his father smiling. "Yes, and I think you're okay, kid."

Leaning over to Jim, Blair whispered, "See, man. It's going to be cool."

Jim wrapped his arm around Blair's neck and brought him closer. "Very cool." At first the young man resisted, but melted into the embrace. Jim drank in the soft flavor of coffee on the lips and then let him pull back. "I'd love that cake now, Chief."

From the couch came a small snort of laughter. "Hell, from here it looks like you've got all the desert you can handle, Jimmy. That boy's going to wear you out."

Pushing away, Blair moved gracefully into the kitchen trying to keep from chuckling out loud. Jim blushed in front of his father's smile, the familiar razor scrape of anger and shame missing from his gut. "If I'm lucky, Dad. If I'm lucky."

"I only wish you the best, Jimmy."

"I've got the best, Dad." Jim grabbed Blair around the waist and pulled him in for another quick kiss while two frantic hands lifted the plates out away from his body.

"I'm beginning to see that."