Author's disclaimer: Not mine. Never were mine. Never will be mine. Belong to Petfly, and various other agencies. I'd at least take them out once in a while for a run or something, though.

Author's notes: Okay, this little sucker isn't beta'd for you brave people out there. I do tend to be a stickler for spelling, though, so no gross mistakes abound. Blame Alyjude for inflicting this on you unsuspecting Senners. She na- er... persuaded me to post this. It is my first attempt at fanfiction, so please, if you hate it, don't stone me, 'kay?

Warning: Nah. Little angst, but none of the big ones.

This Is What I Need
by angie

You've embarrassed this University for the last time. I want your office cleared out by Friday.

Jesus. Jesus Christ.

He sat on the edge of his bed, clasping his hands together convulsively.

What the hell am I going to do?

Jesus.

It was gone. It was all gone. He had made that University his home for half his life, and in the blink of an eye, it had been taken away, as if it never existed.

Taken away? Nothing was taken away. I did it all on my own.

What the hell else was there to do? Things couldn't go on the way they had been. Jim never would have had any peace. He dug his fingers into the muscles of his thighs, trying to control the shaking, his mind going obsessively over and over his options.

A hysterical laugh forced it's way out of his chest. Options? What options? There were no options for him. He had given Jim back his life, but he had destroyed his own in the process. Hell, he couldn't even fool himself into thinking that it was the University life he was talking about.

Because as painful as that was, the thing that almost ripped his heart out of his chest was the realization that he was going to have to leave. There would be no room in Major Crimes for a disgraced academic. A neo-hippie that had ridden on Ellison's coattails for the last four years, only to get what he deserved in the end.

There would be no place for him in Jim's life. Not after all he had cost him. And that was it. That was the most painful thing of all. It wasn't like he could convince himself that Jim would ever return his love in the same way, but at least when he had a legitimate excuse for being there, he could dream.

God I'm pathetic. Hanging on like a ten-year old with a crush, hoping for just a glance, or a word. Not knowing when the rides up, and it's time to pack it in.

He stood up, and forced himself to walk to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water, and glancing in the mirror.

Red-rimmed eyes. Not a lot, but enough that a Sentinel would notice immediately. If said Sentinel was even looking. Like he would care. Enough of this. He had friends to check on in the hospital, and an ex-partner to talk to sometime pretty soon.

At the door, he reached for his backpack out of ingrained habit, and stopped himself.

What do you need it for? You aren't going to be carrying any books in it, now are you? It's a crutch, just like it always has been. Your version of a security blanket that was safe to hold onto long after you would have passed the blanket stage. Leave it.

He opened his hand, and let it fall to the floor by the door, took out his keys, and locked the door quietly behind him.

A mere fourteen hours later, his life was in upheaval once again, as if the first time hadn't been enough.

At the end of the day, Simon had silently handed him back the gold badge, and walked away, leaving his former observer staring at the metal, and running his fingers over it softly.

Much as he was doing now, sitting on his bed in the same position he was in after the damned conference, and thinking much the same thoughts.

Could he be Jim's partner?

Could he carry a gun with the possibility hanging over him every day that he might have to shoot someone?

Could he leave behind his lifetime of learning to do this? Jim deserved a partner that could be with him 100%, and if Blair didn't think, even for an instant, that he could do it, then his only choice was to say no.

And then what? If you say no, then you'll have no other choice. You'll have to leave. Can you leave him? Just walk out of Cascade, and never come back again?

Out of all of them, this was the only question he could answer. Yes. He would gladly rip his own heart out to save Jim's life. The other questions all had the possibility of hurting someone else in the mix, but this one question...

The only one that would be hurting was him.

As he stared down at the badge, somehow, that seemed fitting. After everything he had put his friends through, somehow, it seemed that was only thing to do.

A soft knock came on the door, as he folded the wallet, and hastily put it in the drawer of his bedside table.

Jim quietly opened the door, and peeked through. It seemed so odd, seeing his big partner looking so uncertain and nervous, that Blair almost laughed, cutting it off only by the narrowest of margins. Mostly because he knew it would come out as hysterics, bordering on tears.

"Are you hungry? I made some stew...Even used that damned ostrich meat in the freezer."

Blair blinked, the image suddenly overlaid with one of Jim offering him noodles after Maya.

Why was Jim's cure for heartbreak always tied up in feeding him?

"Not really, Jim. I'll have some later." This time, instead of nodding, and walking off, though, he stood there, looking a little lost.

"Was there something else, man?" There, that was a not so subtle hint to get lost. He really couldn't deal with anything else right now.

"I-I just wanted..." Blair looked over at his partner, and noticed, for the first time, how miserable he looked.

A guide's prerogative.

"It's all right Jim. Everything's going to be fine." Amazing, how those words could come out so self-assured, and calming, when inside, he was raging, himself.

Jim grimaced, and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "No. No, it's not going to be fine."

Abruptly, Jim straightened, dropping his hand back down to his side. "Whenever you want that stew, it'll be waiting."

Something about that struck Blair as a little odd. "It'll be waiting, huh?"

Jim met his eyes a second before leaving the room. "It'll always be waiting."

Blair sat on the bed, stunned. That was a little more than the partner speech he had gotten at the hospital. There was something else in Jim's eyes this time, that hadn't been there, before. For the first time since he had stood before the cameras that morning, Blair felt an interest in something. He wanted...no, he needed to know what Jim was going to say to him. He needed to know, because...well, it might be the only thing left that made a difference any longer.

Slowly, he got up, and walked towards the door, finding it uncommonly hard to make those few steps, and reach out to open it. He stopped with his hand on the knob. What if he went out there, and Jim meant something other than the half-formed suspicion that was percolating in his brain.

Could he handle that on top of everything else that had happened today?

He thought about that one for a minute, and was honest enough to answer, no.

Most likely, if he went out there, and Jim said something along the lines of,"I need you as my partner." "You're a good friend." Or, God help him, "I love you like a brother," he would either run out right there, and never come back, or have some kind of a nervous breakdown in Jim's living room, neither of which would be a good thing.

A big part of him wanted nothing more than to stay in his room, and hide. He didn't want to face anything more that could hurt him. It was too much.

But it wasn't what he needed. He knew what he needed. The knob turned slowly, and he stepped out into the dimly lit living room.

Jim looked up from the TV, which was on too low for Blair to hear it. Not that Jim would have any trouble, of course. It had probably been for his benefit, anyway.

"Thought some of that stew might be good after all. It still waiting for me?" Slowly, Jim nodded, and stood up, flipping the TV off as he went.

"I was sort of waiting to see if you wanted any before I ate." Jim moved in ahead of Blair, and dished up the food efficiently, moving to set it on the table, and motioning for Blair to sit down.

He did, looking at Ellison guardedly, and suppressing a sigh as Jim sat silently, not looking up from his meal.

"It's good." Jim grunted non-committally, and they spent the rest of the meal in silence.

Blair had thought hearing platitudes from Jim would be the worst, but it seemed he had found something worse. Not hearing anything at all.

Suddenly, the depression was back on him with a vengeance, and it was all he could do to suppress the sob that wanted to claw it's way out of his throat, as he stood, and silently started back towards the French doors to his room.

"Blair!"

Blair stopped. There would be no mistaking that tone. The desperation in it hurt him deeply.

"Please...please don't..."

Sandburg's spine straightened as if a steel rod had been shoved through it.

"Please don't what?" His voice had come out a lot more harshly than he had expected it to.

When his question was met with only silence, he started back to his room again.

"don't leave me." The whisper was so quiet, he barely caught it, but catch it he did, and his breath lodged in his throat.

"you are. i know you're going to leave me."

"Why do you think that?"

"You've lost everything, Chief. I know you must hate me now. It's my fault."

Blair thought long and hard about what he was going to say.

"I'll admit that there's a part of me that's angry with you, Jim. But it's not about the dissertation. I chose to do that. It was my decision to make. What I'm angry about, is the fact that after everything we've been through together, you still didn't trust me. But in the end, I guess you were right after all. I should have seen this coming. Hell, I should have destroyed the damn thing after Brackett, but I refused to see what was right in front of me."

"No!" The anger in Jim's voice made Blair jump, and he looked up at him, trying to meet his eyes in the dim light. "No," he said more quietly. "I knew from the very beginning that you were doing this to get the dissertation out of it. I knew it. It was part of the deal. You having to do this means that I broke my part of the bargain, Chief."

Blair's throat tightened. "You didn't break anything, Jim. I told you. It was my idea. My responsibility. I chose to do it."

"But you should never have felt that you had to."

As Jim turned a little, Blair was shocked to the depths of his soul to see a silvery glint on the hard planes of Jim's face. A single tear traced its way down his cheek, and he turned fully before angrily brushing at it, trying not to let Blair see him do it.

Without thinking, Blair leaned forward, and stood on tiptoe, brushing his lips across the remains of the silver track. Jim's eyes closed, and his face took on a blissful expression that Blair would never have believed, had he seen it, which he didn't, since his eyes were closed as well.

Suddenly realizing what he had done, Blair jerked back, panting harshly, certain that Jim was going to knock him into the middle of next week.

Oh, you idiot. You stupid, thoughtless idiot. Now you've lost it all. Really lost it all. Everything you need.

A matching tear trailed down Blair's cheek at this thought, and he whispered miserably, "I'm sorry, Jim. I should never have-"

Jim leaned forward, took Blair's face between incredibly gentle hands, and breathed his words across Sandburg's lips a second before his touched them.

"Shut up, Sandburg." As Jim's lips touched his, warm and surprisingly soft, he found that another tear traced down his cheek, and another, and another, until finally the kiss melted, and Jim held him against his chest as he cried softly.

"I love you. I love you so much..." Jim's voice sounded broken, and he held him so tightly it felt like his ribs creaked a little, but he didn't care, because it was what he needed. At long last, it was the only thing he needed.

"Please stay. Please..."

"I promise. I'll never leave you."

In that moment, Blair discovered the truth. It didn't matter what he did. What he was. He would always be an anthropologist, even if he was a detective, or a consultant, but most importantly, he was Jim's guide, and his love.

He was Jim's.

"I love you too, Jim."

And that was the only thing that mattered.

Finis

Please respond to: angiejr@msn.com