Archive of Our Own ^beta

Author's webpage: http://grey.ravenshadow.net/

Talent
by Grey

"You're going to break a tooth one of these days." A large hand holding a beer snaked around in front of Jim Ellison, his captain's deep voice to the side.

Startled, his attention drawn away from watching his dancing partner, he mumbled, "What?"

"You've been standing here clenching your jaw like crazy ever since you got here."

Jim took the beer, his mood still dark and treacherous. Smiling took major effort. "Sorry." His eyes wandered back to Blair, the hips still gyrating, the tight butt still tucked tightly in faded jeans as he ground his crotch into a flushed Susan Tyler. The crease at the back dipped and divided his ass while the erotic movements created an unrelenting ache in Jim's groin. He took a long drink before speaking. "Nice party, Simon."

"Think so?"

"Yeah. This is a good place to hold it, too. Plenty of room and there's even a court outside."

"Yeah, and police get a discount."

"Can't believe Daryl's eighteen though."

"Me, either. Stubborn as his mother, too."

Chuckling for the first time all day, Jim nodded. "Only his mother, right?"

"Of course." Simon paused as he drank before he added, "So, you going to stand around and watch him all day?"

Suddenly tense, Jim stood straighter, one hand holding the bottle, one stuffed down in his pocket. "Who?"

"Sandburg." His voice lilted in admiration. "Kid's got talent, that's for damn sure. Never saw a man dance like that before."

"Talent's one word for it."

"Just clears up why he's never lonely for company though. Must be one hell of a lover if he can do that in public."

Biting his tongue, Jim's eyes narrowed, his attention once again drawn to his friend. A slow love song replaced the dance track and now those arms wrapped the woman closer, their bodies undulating to the hypnotic rhythm of synchronized motion. Sweat slicked his thighs as the air grew warmer and he wiped his brow, his eyes transfixed on Blair.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Your jaw's at it again."

Turning to stare at knowing dark eyes, he shook his head in warning. "Don't say it, Simon."

"Why not? You should tell him."

His voice lower, his words tense, Jim stepped closer. "This isn't the place to discuss this, and besides, I told you before, that's not going to happen. Drop it."

"It's your life, but I think it's a mistake."

"Then it's my mistake. Leave it alone."

Taking a deep breath, Simon shrugged. "Sure, but remember you're in a room full of cops and teenagers. You keep looking like you want to kill Susan Tyler and someone's bound to notice."

Before he could counter, Daryl came up to his father. "Hey, Dad, Rafe said you wanted to see me."

"He's right. When do you want me to start serving the real food?"

"Blair said about five would be good. Then he said I could serve up the cake later, make a big production out of it, some kind of rite of passage in front of witnesses."

"Blair said?"

Looking around Daryl spotted the grad student out on the floor and his happy face suddenly stilled, the grin completely gone. The glare he gave the couple matched Jim's earlier disfavor. "Damn, man. He gets any closer, they'll need a hotel room."

Jim lifted his beer to second that opinion and then stopped suddenly. The young man's face radiated hatred in the woman's direction, his heartbeat racing. "You okay, Daryl?"

"I'm fine." The clipped words cut off discussion as he turned back to his father. "Anyway, Blair said I should ask about the ritual opening of the presents. He said some cultures do that in front of the group, sort of a bonding thing, and some don't, and that I should find out what we should do according to custom."

Putting a hand on his son's shoulder, Simon laughed. "Well, if Blair said all that, I guess I should tell you."

Suddenly defensive, Daryl snapped, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, son. It's just that for the last few months all I hear is Blair said this and Blair said that."

"I thought you liked Blair."

"I do."

"So, what's your point?"

Simon kept his voice even despite the obvious irritation. "No point, Daryl. Forget I said anything. Look, turning eighteen is a big deal and I'm glad you decided to share it with all our friends. In the past we've always opened the gifts in private, so I guess we'll do that this time, too. Okay?"

Relaxing a little, Daryl smiled. "Okay. Look, I really appreciate the party. It's cool, Dad. Thanks."

"Turning eighteen is cool."

"Yeah. Eighteen's legal."

Eyes more concerned, Simon's voice stretched around the question. "Legal for what, son?"

"For whatever, Dad." Grinning widely, his hungry eyes turning back to Blair, he walked off to interrupt the dancing.

"Jim?"

"What?"

"Am I over reacting when I say I think my son just told me more than I really want to know about what he wants for his birthday?"

"He's just a kid, Simon."

Finishing his beer, Jim watched Daryl tap Blair's shoulder, eager for his full attention. Despite Susan's protests, his friend followed the younger man off to play basketball, making excuses and happy to oblige.

"Damn it, Jim. I think I'm a little worried. I don't like what I'm seeing here."

"Join the club, Simon."

Blair sat with his leg raised and supported on the chair, the ice pack dripping down around his right ankle. "It's okay, Jim. It's not broken."

"I know it's not broken, but it's a hell of a sprain. You're going to need to brace that."

As he pressed it lightly again to test it, the younger man jerked. "Shit. Stop it, that hurts."

Just as he finished speaking, Daryl stood beside him, his hand on his shoulder. "Man, I am like so sorry. Derik was totally out of line running a foul on you like that."

Jim wanted to smack the young hand away, but instead just moved closer. "What the hell was he doing anyway, knocking him down for no reason?"

"Jim, calm down, man. The kid was just aggressive."

"It was more than that, Blair." Daryl shook his head as he stood back out of Jim's personal space. "Derik can be a pain in the ass sometimes. He did it on purpose."

"But why?" Blair groaned as he shifted and grabbed his leg. "Damn."

"Just sit still. I'll drive you home in a minute and we can get a better look at what needs to be done." Jim turned his attention back to Daryl and asked, "So what's this Derik's problem? Why would he try to hurt Sandburg?"

Shrugging, Daryl looked down, his eyes averted. "How should I know? He just gets whacked sometimes for no reason. He's gone now."

Jim decided to check out the obvious lie another time and focused again on his injured partner. "Well, why don't we worry about your psycho friends later? Chief, I need to get you to the truck. Think you can make it?"

"Sure. Just give me a hand and I'll be all right."

As he put his arm out to help his friend up, Daryl argued, "But shouldn't we get an x-ray or something? It could be broken. I mean, look at how bruised and swollen it is already."

Blair raised a hand and shook his head. "No hospitals, man. Besides, Jim checked it over. If he says it's not broken, it's not. He was a medic in the army, so don't worry about it, Daryl."

"But maybe you should come and stay with my dad and me? Our house is closer."

Jim watched his partner's momentary hesitation as he studied his young friend. He saw the same expression Blair got when trying to solve a puzzle and couldn't figure out those final pieces. "Thanks, man, but it's your birthday. No reason to mess it all up for you and everyone else. You still have the cake deal to do."

"It won't be the same if you leave, man. I wanted you to be here." The young voice almost pleaded, the slightest disappointed waver moving the air, and for a brief second Jim feared Blair would cave in.

"Sorry, Daryl, but to be honest, my head is killing me and all I want to do right now is go home and fall into bed."

Jarred by the confession, Jim asked, "What's wrong with your head, Chief?"

"Must have hit it when I went down. Hurts."

Running his fingers through the dark curls, he found the lump at the back of his skull. "Damn. Let me check your eyes."

Pushing Jim's hand away as he tried to see his pupils, Blair complained, "I'm fine. I just want to go home, okay? I think everyone's had enough of the show by now."

Glancing around, he noticed the uneasy tension as everyone mingled and talked. All their eyes kept coming back to the trio, worried and apprehensive. Simon stood at the far corner, arms crossed, shaking his head while talking to Taggart. He ignored the temptation to listen in and turned his attention back to Blair. "Yeah, well, maybe they just miss your dancing."

"What?"

"Nothing. Come on. Lean on me." Before Daryl could move in to help, Jim wrapped his arm around his waist and helped him to his feet.

"Blair, you want me to come by in the morning to check on you, man?"

Jim answered before his partner could. "He'll be fine, and if he's not I'll take care of him. Now go on back and enjoy the party. Happy birthday." Standing there, in full possession of his guide, he stared into eyes that recognized the unspoken challenge, eyes that blinked only once before looking away.

"Sure, Jim. But I still want to call."

Blair shoved his hip to signal Jim to move and started walking while he answered. "Don't mind him. Come over if you want. We still need to finish up that portfolio paper you needed to work on."

"Sure, man. Sorry about the ankle."

"Not your fault. Say good bye to your dad and happy eighteenth, man."

"Thanks, Blair." Just the way the young man said the name made Jim hug his friend a little tighter, a little closer to his side.

"Ease up, Jim. I've got to breathe here."

"Sorry."

By the time they got to the truck, Blair sagged, his right leg twitching from the strain and damage. "You okay, Chief?"

"Hurts like hell, man."

"As soon as we get home, I'll ice it and make some of that comfrey tea you like so much." He opened the door and helped his partner get up and belted before closing the door. Once inside the truck, he glanced over to see Blair lean his head back and wince as he made contact with the seat. "Your head still bothering you?"

"I'm fine. Honest." Meeting Jim's eyes, he added, "You want to check my pupils now, go ahead before we start, but I don't have a concussion. It's just a bruise and it's sore, that's all."

Focusing in on the even black dots surrounded by blue, he assured himself of the truth, but asked anyway. "You're sure?"

"You're as bad as Daryl."

Starting the engine, he inwardly cringed at the comparison. "And how bad is that?"

"I thought he was going to kill Derik when I went down and then he acted like I needed an ambulance or something. He way over reacted."

"Did you ever figure out what was up with this Derik kid?"

Shaking his head, Blair closed his eyes and talked with his head resting on his window. "Not really. It was weird."

"Weird how?"

"He was talking to Daryl about something and then he got all pissed. I didn't expect him to come at me like that, which is why I got hurt."

"He blindsided you?"

"Yeah, I figure he must have still been mad and I was just the man who happened to get in the way."

"Maybe." Jim avoided several cars before stopping at a red light. "What do you know about this guy?"

"Just that he's a real good friend of Daryl's. They graduated together. I think they're best friends."

"Maybe that's the problem then."

Raising his head, his face confused, Blair asked, "What are you talking about?"

Shrugging as he started driving again, he tried to explain and keep his voice neutral. "Well, if they're best friends, he could feel like you're taking his place."

"I don't get it."

"Chief, for the last few months, ever since Kincaid, you and Daryl have spent a lot of time together. Lately it's been almost every day. Maybe this Derik guy thinks you've invaded his territory."

Frowning, Blair considered the words for about ten seconds and then shook his head. "But that's crazy. First of all, you're exaggerating. I don't spend that much time with him. I mean, I help out with some of his school stuff and we talk and play ball together, but he's just a kid, Jim. There's no way I'm going to replace his best friend, somebody his own age."

"I'm not exaggerating. And he's not a kid. Lately you're with him almost every free moment."

"So, you're saying you think Derik thinks I've taken his spot in Daryl's life because I'm helping him out?"

"Has Daryl talked much about Derik or spent any time with him at the same time he's been spending time with you?"

"No, but what's that got to do with anything?"

"Think about it, Chief."

He did and he didn't look happy. "Well, this sucks."

"What's that?"

"How come I didn't see that myself? It makes sense when you point it out like that. Maybe I should call Daryl and tell him so he can straighten it out or something."

"Maybe tomorrow. Tonight we're both going to take a break."

After a deep breath, Blair nodded. "Okay. I feel a little tired anyway."

"All that dancing wears a man out."

Blair turned, his head tilted and his eyes confused. "That's the second time you've mentioned dancing, man. Is there some point you want to make?"

"Not really."

"Well, you're acting like it."

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, you didn't say anything twice. Maybe the third time you'll finally tell me what's bugging you."

Sneaking a peek sideways, Jim took in the annoyed expression, the tight jaw. "Nothing's bugging me, Chief. Just relax. We'll be home in a minute."

"Want me to dance up the stairs, Jim?"

"Give it a rest, Sandburg."

In his mind he imagined his partner's sexy ass teasing him once again, the hips pumping in a heated rhythm too tempting to ignore. His mind fuzzed over as his groin tightened, his greedy cock wicked and out of control.

"Jim?"

"What?"

"Why did we just pass up the loft?"

"Shit."

"Thanks, man, but I'd rather have a beer."

"You've had four already. The tea's better for you."

"Better for me?" Blair groaned as he shifted on the couch, his leg stretched out and his ankle iced and wrapped in a towel. "First of all, how the hell do you know how many beers I had, and second, you're not my mom."

Continuing to heat the water, Jim got down the mug and tea from the cabinet. "You were drinking them like water when we first got to the party, and I know I'm not you're mom. Your mom's prettier than I am."

"She is prettier, and not as bossy."

"You want some aspirin?"

"I want a beer."

Taking a deep breath to bolster his patience, Jim leaned back and crossed his arms. "You want a beer, come and get one. You want to wait a few minutes, I'll bring you some hot tea and something to help with the pain."

"Jesus, you're such a dick sometimes."

"You want to make your own tea, just keep talking trash."

Sighing and settling back in defeat, Blair shook his head. "Sorry, man. My leg hurts and the day just went to shit too fast without any warning."

"It's not that bad, Chief."

"It's just that I really wanted it to be a great day for Daryl, a day with no problems and this had to happen."

"This wasn't your fault."

"That's true, at least not because of anything I did on purpose." He turned slightly and stared out the window a few moments before he added, "Jim?"

"What?"

"Did I do something to piss off Simon?"

Startled at the quick change of conversation, he stepped closer to the sofa. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"He said the strangest thing to me when I came in to use the john before I got hurt."

"What'd he say?"

"Well, at first he said something about waking up before I missed out, but before I could ask him what he meant by that, he said Daryl was his only son, and I'd better remember that. He practically growled it like I was somehow a threat or something, like he was really upset. Now, why would he say all that?"

Turning away to step back to the stove, Jim tired to think of words to explain his captain's fears without revealing his own. Putting the tea in the pot, he poured the boiling water over the leaves, the herbal scent tickling his nose.

"Maybe he's sort of like Derik, a little jealous of all the time you've been spending with him. If Daryl goes away to college in the next month, he won't see him much then either."

"Daryl hasn't decided what to do yet."

"And maybe Simon's afraid he talks and listens more to you than to him and will go with being a cop instead of going to college."

"But I wouldn't do that, man. It's up to Daryl about what he wants to do. I'm just a friend." Pausing a moment, he added, "Do you really think Simon's threatened by me?"

"I didn't say he was threatened by you." His face stayed turned away as he filtered the tea into the mug.

"Same thing, jealous and afraid."

"It's not the same thing. Daryl's his son and he just wants the best for him."

"And hanging around me doesn't fit that category?"

"Don't put words in my mouth, Chief. Maybe you should talk to Simon about this."

"Maybe I will."

Bringing the cup the sofa, Jim waited while Blair took it and blew across the steamy clouds before sipping. "That's good, man. Thanks."

"No problem. You want another pillow?"

"No, I'm fine. You can stop hovering anytime now."

"I'm not hovering."

"You're hovering, Jim."

Just as he started to reply, the phone rang. Picking up the receiver he heard his captain's voice. "How's Sandburg?"

"His ankle's pretty swollen, but he'll be all right."

"No more dancing for awhile then?"

"Nope, no more dancing."

Blair turned his head, suddenly intensely interested. "Who is that?"

Covering the end, Jim mouthed Simon before asking, "So, did the party go okay after we left?"

"Fine, considering the guest of honor stormed out before it was over."

"What happened?"

"Daryl left right after you did and didn't come back. I hope you don't have to arrest me for murdering my son for ducking out of his own party."

"Maybe he went to try to straighten things out with his friend Derik."

"Maybe." A long silence came before the question. "Jim, how worried should I be about this?"

"Depends on what you think this is."

"Don't dance around it. I'm not blind. My son has a crush on your partner."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Just like I don't know for sure you're in love with him, too?"

His jaw tense, the words fought to stay calm. "I'm going to hang up now. Don't worry about Daryl. He'll be okay."

A low sigh from the other end of the line matched the mental image he had of his captain shaking his head and rubbing his forehead. "It's just that I worry. He's picking a really hard path by being gay."

"It's not really a matter of choice, Simon. You know that."

"I know. I'm still worried though. He's my son, and you of all people know how bad it can get."

"I know, but he'll be okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

As soon as he hung up, Blair asked, "What's wrong with Daryl? Did he and Simon have a fight?"

"No. Daryl got upset and left. Simon had to manage on his own."

"Damn."

"Yeah, well, he'll be fine. Turning eighteen's not easy. I left home to join the army and you'd already been at college for two years and all over the world. I think Daryl can manage a pout in his own city without getting himself in too much trouble."

"A pout? What the hell are you talking about, a pout? And what did Simon say about dancing?"

"Daryl was just upset. Like I told Simon, it'll work out."

"But why are you two talking about dancing all of a sudden?"

"Drink your tea, Chief. I'm going to take a shower."

"This is about dancing with Susan, right?" Blair's eyes studied him, the intense blue even darker with the quest for answers. "Did you and Simon want to dance with her and you think I was being selfish or something?"

"Not even close."

"Then what's the deal?"

Stepping to the window, Jim stared out, weighing how much he should say. "You're not going to let this go are you?"

"You and Simon keep bringing it up, but I'm not sure what I did to piss you off."

"You didn't piss me off."

"Then what?"

He swallowed hard, his words measured and careful. "I guess we're both a little jealous of your talent."

"My talent?"

"It's just that most guys don't dance like you do in public."

"Dance how?"

Watching Blair's baffled expression, he shook his head. "You really don't have a clue."

"Jim, you're starting to really annoy me here."

"Let me put it this way, when you were dancing, every one in the room was watching."

"Really?" Blair pushed back a wayward curl and tucked it behind his ear, his eyes staring off as he pondered the revelation. "So, you're saying I'm a pretty good dancer then."

"Yeah, you could say that."

"But why would that bother you and Simon?"

"It didn't really."

"But it did. I could tell."

"Jesus, Chief. Let it go."

Stubbornly, Blair insisted, his face determined. "No way. You've been acting weird lately and this is just one more thing to add to the list. Now tell me why being a good dancer is such bad thing."

"It's not the dancing, just how you do it."

"How do I do it?"

At first the words stuck in his throat, but he forced himself to speak and try to not bite his own tongue off. "Very sexual. Most people would do that kind of thing in private, not where everybody in the world could see it."

"Sexual? As in sexy?" Flushed, his face turned away to the window, he knew his friend studied him too closely. "Jim, are you saying that you thought I was sexy and that it bothered you?"

Turning, suddenly angry, Jim held out his hand to halt the conversation. "Look, I'm just saying that when you're dancing like that, some people might take it the wrong way. You might as well have been making love to the woman in public for godsakes."

"And you were jealous."

The statement rocked him, the truth of it too solid. Avoiding the eyes, the eyes starting to see more than he wanted to share, he headed toward the hallway. "Don't be crazy. This is a stupid conversation. Dance any way you want, Sandburg. Right now I'm going to go take a shower."

"Maybe a cold one might help."

He didn't even bother to answer the taunt as he closed the door behind him, leaned back, and moaned in frustration. The bulge against his zipper hurt and begged for attention, obviously weeping. Shit. Hiding just got a whole lot harder and so did he. He wanted to slam his head into the wall, but more importantly, he wanted to slam into his partner.

Stumbling awkwardly out of his doorway, Blair balanced most of his weight on his left leg while he held onto the wall.

"Why don't you use the crutches I put by your bed, Chief?"

"I don't want to use any fucking crutches. I had enough of those things after being shot."

"Being stubborn and surly's not going to help your foot much."

Sweat from the effort of traveling from the bed to the table poured from his forehead as he sank into the chair. "Man, I hate mornings. Why can't they come later in the day?"

"They would if you went to bed earlier." Before Blair could lift his head and respond, Jim placed the coffee in front of him. "Here. Drink this and take some aspirin. I know you were up half the night. Must hurt like hell, huh?"

Nodding, Blair took the cup and drank the bitter liquid like a religious communion, his breathing easing as he finished half before speaking. "Yeah, it does. Either I'm getting older or it's in worse shape than I thought."

"We're all getting older and it's a bad sprain. It'll probably be a few weeks before you can walk right." He paused before he added, "You can go to the doctor and have it checked, but he's going to tell you to stay off of it as much as possible, to use the crutches, and keep it elevated."

"I know that. Still hurts though."

"You should stay off of it at least for today and keep ice on it. By tonight we can start using some heat. That should help some."

Jim stepped around the table and moved a chair across from Blair. He put a cushion on the seat as he spoke. "Let's put your foot up here for now and I'll put some more ice on it while you have breakfast."

The younger man remained quiet while Jim lifted his leg, carefully supporting the calf and then positioning it on the pillow. Glancing up, Jim noticed Blair watching him closely, his eyes slightly squinted. "What? Did that hurt too much?"

"No, it's not the leg, man. I'm just trying to work something out."

"Work what out?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Shrugging, avoiding the intensity of the stare, Jim kneeled beside the chair as he touched the ankle lightly, the swollen tissue hot against his hand. The slight intake of breath warned him of the pain and he stopped and then eased his fingers over the bone. "Yeah, I think another eight hours of ice should take down some of the swelling. We'll keep it heated and wrapped after that."

"Thanks, Jim. I appreciate all this pampering." A hand lightly grazed his shoulder as he stood up.

"It's not pampering, Chief."

"Feels like it."

"I need you on your feet and mobile. Softball season starts pretty soon and you're the star catcher. A bum ankle could seriously hamper our chances at the title this year. Can't have that."

Nodding, going along with the avoidance game, Blair smiled. "Right. Softball. I knew there had to be a reason for all this special attention."

"Nothing special about helping out a friend, Chief."

Without anymore words, Jim fixed the ice and packed it around Blair's ankle before handing him the morning paper already folded to the world news section. Then he set about fixing the algae shake for his partner along with the bagel and cream cheese for himself. After refilling the coffee, he sat down and ate, glad for the calm moment between them.

After a few minutes, he glanced up to find Blair sitting across from him, just staring. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Tilting his head, seeing an unfamiliar nervousness that surprised him, he pushed carefully. "What's bothering you?"

"I was just thinking."

Teasing, Jim groaned and shook his head. "Oh, man, not that."

Studying his plate, never looking up, Blair spoke quietly. "I was thinking about what you said, thinking that maybe I have been spending way too much time with Daryl. Maybe Derik's not the only friend who's been feeling a little left out of the loop."

The words warmed him and scared him at the same time. He hated admitting that he wanted Blair to himself, but he did. Having Blair know that meant his partner recognized his importance in his life. "I understand you've got other friends, Chief."

"Yeah, but you're my best friend, and I haven't exactly been doing a great job at returning the favor lately."

"You've been busy."

"I've been blind."

"Blind?"

"Yeah. I should've seen that thing with Derik, but I missed it. I should've seen you watching me dance last night, but I wasn't paying attention."

Startled by the reference to dancing, Jim stiffened, fearful of getting into territory he couldn't handle without more planning. "Nothing to notice. Look, if you're saying you want to spend less time with Daryl and more time with me, I won't complain." Standing to clear the table, he spoke with his back to his guide, his voice hushed. "I mean, I hate to admit this, but I've missed you."

"I know. I've missed you, too, man." Turning, he saw his friend struggling to say the words, his voice actually shaking. "For awhile it just seemed like all we did was fight, and after dying and that thing with Alex, I was just so pissed all the time. Then Daryl came along. He's a great kid and we have fun messing around, going to museums and doing research."

"More fun than we had, right?"

"No. It's just that sometimes I got the feeling you didn't want me around that much, especially at the station, like I embarrassed you or something. It was just easier to spend time with Daryl."

Sitting back down at the table, his mind stunned by the words, he whispered, "I've never been embarrassed by you, Blair. Why would you think that?"

"It doesn't matter now. It was stupid."

"It wasn't stupid if you felt that way. I know sometimes I'm impatient and don't want you to say some things that the guys might make fun of, but it's not you I'm embarrassed about. Don't ever think that."

"I don't understand." He finally looked up, his eyes meeting Jim's.

"These senses and the other things, the dreams and seeing spirits, they just really get to me sometimes. Nobody, not even Simon, has any idea how crazy it makes me feel to be so different, nobody but you, Chief."

"You're not crazy, Jim."

"I know, but sometimes when I get really upset about the control thing, I get grouchy. You're just the closest target some times."

Leaning forward, his hands out before him, just inches from Jim's, Blair spoke in a hush. "But I should've known that. That's what I'm talking about. I've been so caught up in my own feelings about what's happened, I've missed yours completely."

Pulling back, his arms crossed, Jim bit his lower lip as he worried over his next words. "My feelings about you get confused sometimes."

"Confused how?" Blair frowned, his face firm and serious.

"It's hard to explain."

"Try, because this is really important. I need to know what you're thinking."

Taking a deep breath, on the verge of saying something he could never take back, the phone rang.

"Shit. Don't answer it, Jim."

"I have to."

He picked up the receiver and recognized Daryl's voice right away, but also heard the strain. "I need to speak to Blair, man."

"What's going on?"

"Let me speak to him, Jim. Please, man. It's important."

Handing the phone over to his partner, he listened to the conversation with his enhanced senses. "What's going on, Daryl?"

"I'm in some trouble, man. I need your help. Can you come and get me?"

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you when you get here. I'm over at Cheryl's. She's out of town and I've got a key to watch the place."

"I know where it is, but why can't you call your father?"

"He's not going to understand, man. Just come, Blair. Please. And don't tell Jim."

"I have to tell Jim. I can't drive with my ankle like this."

After a slight hesitation, Daryl agreed. "Okay, but tell him not to call my dad. Promise."

"I'll tell him. We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Thanks, man."

The phone disconnected and Blair handed it back. "God, he sounded in a panic."

"He sounded in trouble."

"Yeah. I know that sound."

"I know you do. Let's get your crutches and see about a rescue."

Awkwardly climbing up the stairs of the dilapidated building took extra time since Blair rejected any attempts to help him. "I'm fine, Jim. Just go ahead and I'll be there."

"I'll wait. To be honest, I don't like the look of this place. Not exactly the best section of town either."

"Yeah, I know. My place blew up just around the corner."

"I remember."

Finally at the top of the stairs, Blair pushed his hair back, and motioned down the hallway. "Her place is the third door on the left."

As soon as they arrived and knocked, the door swung open and Daryl stood there, one eye black and his face swollen. The side of his jaw puffed out and his lower lip still bled at the left corner. "Damn, Blair, I'm so happy to see you."

Limping in with Jim at his heels, Blair stood while Daryl shut the door and walked over to slump down on the couch. Jim's voice took on police tone as he spoke. "You want to tell us what happened?"

"God, you sound like a cop." The young man's voice trembled.

"I am a cop. So's your dad. Now, why don't you tell us why you couldn't call him."

His head dropped to his hands, his whole body shaking. "He's not going to understand."

Blair's hand touched his shoulder, his voice comforting. "Tell us, Daryl. What's going on?"

"Derik got really pissed. He was so angry and nothing I said calmed him down. I tried to break it off easy weeks ago, but he just wouldn't listen."

Swallowing hard, Blair looked first up at Jim and then back at Daryl. "Break it off? Daryl, are you saying you and Derik were like, together as in together?"

"Smooth, Chief."

"Give me a break here, Jim. I wasn't expecting this."

The young man's words choked as he kept his head down. "My dad's not going to be down with me being gay, man."

Jim's voice interrupted, the words tight but even. "You don't know that. Your dad's not a bigot."

"I know, but that's when it comes to other people and on the job. It's not the same when you're his kid. He's going to get pissed."

Rubbing the back of his shoulder, Blair spoke slowly, his voice warm and soothing. "You're wrong about Simon, man. He's going to be more worried about you getting beat up than being gay. Did Derik do this?"

"Yeah, but I deserved it."

"Forget that shit. Nobody deserves to get beaten up." Jim crossed his arms, his whole body clenched and angry at the words he'd heard so many times from victims.

"But I hit him first. He just kept on and wouldn't shut up."

"Wouldn't shut up about what?" The simple question from Blair's lips brought Daryl's head up.

"Don't get mad."

"I'm not mad, man, but what could he say that would piss you off enough to hit him?"

Sneaking a look at Jim, Simon's son swallowed hard before he met Blair's eyes again. "He called you some things I didn't like, so I hit him."

"What things?"

"Things I can't even repeat. He's really jealous of you."

"Me? What's this got to do with me?"

"Jim knows."

Taking a deep breath, Jim shook his head. "You tell him, Daryl. This is your story, not mine."

Totally dejected, Daryl sagged down even further, his head back, both hands over his face. "I broke up with Derik because I thought I might have a chance with you as soon as I turned eighteen."

Blair sat back, his mouth slightly open, stunned beyond words.

After a few moments, Daryl uncovered his eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry, man. I know it was crazy."

After a long pause, Blair finally spoke, the words quiet but clear. "It wasn't crazy. I'm flattered."

"Really? It's just you're so cool and everything. I've never met anybody like you before. You're just so damn beautiful sometimes." The voice started to move into a hopeful range but stalled when Blair started talking.

"I said I was flattered, Daryl, and I am, but it can't be more than that. I'm sorry."

Nodding, more accepting than Jim expected, Daryl motioned in his direction while he spoke to Blair. "It's because of him, right?"

"What happens with Jim and me is private. It's got nothing to do with us or how I feel about you. You're a great person and Simon's really lucky to have you as a son. It's just that it's not right for us to be together like that when I don't have the same feelings."

"I know." The words choked slightly as the dark eyes grew misty. "I'm just really confused right now. Everything's so fucked up with Derik"

"Then you can talk to him. If you love each other, you can fix this break between you and if you don't, then you could at least try to be friends again." Blair's sympathetic words didn't lessen the frown on the young man's face.

"But I don't want my dad to be disappointed."

"He won't be. He loves you." The resolute tone of his voice brought both faces in Jim's direction. "Besides, he already knows you're gay. It's not going to be a big surprise."

"My dad knows?"

"Well, he's a cop. He sees things even when we wish he wouldn't. He's a smart man, your father. Plus, you weren't exactly subtle when you were drooling all over Sandburg last night."

"Fuck." Daryl shook his head in misery one more time before taking a deep breath. "I can't believe this shit."

"Neither can I." Blair sat very still, his words much tighter than usual.

"Well, I guess I should go home and have a talk with my father."

Still keeping his stormy eyes on Jim, Blair patted his young friend on the shoulder. "Yeah, we'll drive you over to your place and then my partner and I are going to have one hell of a conversation."

"What'd I do?"

"Don't even try it, detective. It all makes sense now, the dancing, the whole conversation with Simon. Your ass is mine when we get home, man."

He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the promise behind the words. Blocking out the angry tone that threw them in his direction, he realized that under all that fierceness lay a talent for passion. More importantly, Blair finally understood and still wanted to go home and chew his ass but good.

Jim Ellison couldn't get down the stairs and start the truck fast enough.

Face pale, his eyes shadowed, Blair came through the door and pretty much fell on the couch. Crutches crashed to the side and he lifted the leg up on the cushions, slapping away Jim's hands. "Don't touch me."

"Okay. How about some aspirin or a beer or something?"

"Beer and aspirin. Yeah, that'll work."

As he fetched the drink and pills, he heard the almost inaudible groan as Blair shifted, his efforts to get comfortable difficult. Returning in less than a minute, he handed them over and just stood there waiting, his arms folded.

"Sit down, man."

"Any particular place, Chief?"

"Hell, Jim, you're making me crazy. Just sit down and talk to me for christsakes."

Careful not to disturb the leg, Jim sat down at the other end of the sofa, his whole body on alert. "I'm not exactly sure what to say here."

"Why not start with how long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you been in love with me and how long were you going to wait before you got around to letting me in on it?"

Jim looked up into rounded hurt, the anger from the last few hours drained away. "I meant to say something about it sooner, but words aren't easy for me, Chief. You know that."

"I know. Look, I don't want a long flowery speech or anything. Plus, it's a little hard to stay pissed at you without being pissed at myself, too. I mean, I could've said I love you a long time ago. It's not like I'm verbally challenged or repressed or anything."

He ignored the digs and asked the important question. "You love me?"

"Yeah, I do." His voice softened as he glanced up more shyly. "I can't help it, man. You piss me off more than any person I've ever known, but you're the only person who's ever touched me like this. You're in my head all the time, no matter what I'm doing or who I'm with, I'm thinking Jim thoughts."

"Jim thoughts?"

"Yeah, like where you are, what you're doing, and if there's any way in hell you could love me back."

"For how long?"

"Ages, man." Blair drank another long swallow of beer, rubbed his forehead, and then sat up more as he put the bottle on the table. "I'm sorry, man, but my ankle is killing me here."

Without waiting for an invitation, Jim immediately pulled the jean leg up and noted the increased swelling, the whole foot purpled and bulging over the edge of the unlaced shoe. "Looks like it's worse. Let me get a pillow and more ice, try to get the swelling down. Running around all over town sure didn't help."

"I know." Grabbing his arm before he stood up, Blair whispered, "Jim, I need you to say it, just once, and then I won't ask again."

The gentle connection, the simple direct plea brought the words forward with little effort at all. "I love you, too, Blair."

"Thanks, man."

And without thinking, without reservation, Jim leaned forward and kissed the lips of the man he dreamed about, the man who filled his life with purpose. The beer mingled with the lingering taste of earlier coffee, the slightest stubble contrasting with the soft fullness pushing back. A tongue teased against his mouth, and he opened slightly, his own tongue flicking across the tip before he pulled away and repeated himself. "I love you, Blair. I'm sorry it took so long to say it." Running his fingers along the whiskered cheek, he noted the flush, the increased heat as blue eyes dilated and grew darker.

The hushed voice transmuted to husky, the pleased smile like a playful tickle. "This is going to sound crazy."

"What?"

"My leg doesn't hurt half as much as it did all of a sudden."

Low laughter rumbled in his chest as he shifted to the floor, his knees ignoring the hard surface. He moved closer so he could wrap his arms around broad shoulders and draw his partner into an embrace. Lightly he kissed his neck, the taste salty and yet spicy like the familiar scent he craved and cherished.

"Touch therapy works, Chief."

"I like it."

"Good."

"Think I need a stronger dose though."

He squeezed the firm body a little tighter as he spoke, his hands suddenly shaking. "You sure, Chief?"

Blair turned his head, his face so close his breath heated the air with each word. "I've never been so sure of anything."

And with that invitation, he nuzzled the shoulder, licked the ear, and nibbled a series of tiny kisses along the exposed and offered neck. The moans spurred him on, the private calls intimate teasings to his belly. Hunger grew between his legs as heat flamed his spine, his back tensing with an urgency to shove forward. A hand at his face stopped him as he worked at the buttons and zipper blocking his targets.

"Jim, come on, we need to move this either to my room or upstairs."

His mind still lingered at primal, clear thinking huddled and hiding. Blair's words sounded alien and his tongue fumbled. "What?"

"Your room or mine, man?"

He sniffed the air, the musk of arousal strong, his heart thumping to keep up with his blood. "Don't care."

With sudden grace and determination, Blair stood on one leg, took Jim's arm, and commanded, "My room for now. Ours later."

Together they stepped quickly and Jim helped Blair sit down on the edge of the bed. Then he eased off the shoe of the injured foot. "I don't want to hurt you, Chief."

"You won't. I promise."

Taking off the other shoe, Blair raised his good leg and shifted his whole body back further on the bed. Jim's breath quickened as he watched the slow peel of first the outer shirt and then the grey tee. The hairy chest enticed him, drew him, the dark nipples already hard with want. Sliding a hand down, his eyes never leaving Jim's, his partner unzipped, lifted his hips and with easy abandon took off both his jeans and boxers with one motion. He lay back against the red pillows naked, his jutting cock a beacon. Jim shook his head in admiration. "You're beautiful, Blair."

"Your turn, Jim. Let me see you. Really see you." Desire hushed the words, made them breezy and heated against his sentinel hearing.

Without hesitation he kicked off his shoes, stripping off first his shirts and then the jeans. Blue eyes watched him, focused and clear. "Now the boxers, man."

In a matter of seconds he stood nude, completely exposed and it pleased him. Blair reached out, taking his hand, drawing him onto the bed beside him. Arms hugged him, the skin to skin contact blistering and delicious. An involuntary shudder brought him even closer, the shushing like velvet. "It's okay, Jim. Just relax. I want this, too."

His mind darkened, painful images swirling, the fountain, the cold lips, the still heart. He buried his face into the warm furry chest, his tears sudden and unexpected. "I couldn't live if I lost you."

"Sure you could, but you don't have to." Strong hands petted back his hair, the chin resting on his head a comforting weight. "I'm here and I'm staying."

Fingers walked to his nipples, rubbing gently, first the right and then the left. The right hand caressed his cheek, a thumb tracing his bottom lip, the lightness of it electric. Lying back together, he drank in the sensation as Blair lifted his body over his, his mouth taking over, sucking up the nubs, biting gently between licks. Knees nudged hard between his legs, spreading his thighs for closer access. Cock to cock, he ground forward, his hand slipped between them, holding Jim's erection, burning him up with pressure. The movements took on the same erotic rhythm as his dancing, his whole body flame, wild and barely contained.

Bucking up, his own strokes ramming into Blair's hand harder, his breaths melted into the steamy darkness of his lover's greedy mouth, every whimper and groan swallowed and returned with equal passion. Every bone in his body swelled, grew tight against the restriction of muscle and sinew, begged for explosion. His balls ached as they slammed against a stubborn fist, the dry friction fiery in painful pleasure. His belly tightened, the target between his legs sizzling with increased energy building, pressure near breaking, arching him suddenly upward into a heaven, into the flash of pure ecstatic spasm. Involuntary jerks felled him, chained him to personal explosion, Blair's weight all-containing, controlling the devastation and making it safe.

Wonder settled over him like a wool blanket before freezing and Blair rested his head on his shoulder, exhausted, his face whiskered and sweaty. His fingers combed through the damp curls as he kissed the slick forehead. "God, I love you, Blair."

"Love you, too, but you've worn me out."

Feigning disappointment, he complained, "Already?"

"I used to be younger, man. Honest." He snuggled closer and then sighed deeply, making no effort to move to the side, his voice sleepy. "I always knew you had talent."

"Talent?"

"Yeah, man, you're quite a dancer."

The onslaught of emotion fueled his tongue, his desire and his will to be forever with the man in his arms even stronger. "Takes the right partner, Chief."

The end