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Archivist note: This story is part of the Houston Knights - Horses of Different Colours series. You can find the rest at the author's webpage.

Single White Fillies - part one
A Houston Knights/The Sentinel Alternate Universe
By James Walkswithwind and Wolfling

Paperwork.

If there was one thing Joe LaFiamma hated about being a cop it was paperwork. For every moment of real police work he did, he seemed to spend ten filling out reports on it in triplicate.

He always put it off for as long as possible so when the time came that he couldn't put it off any longer, it always seemed to be on the verge of developing life and devouring him. Or so he thought in his more fanciful moments.

Hey, it could happen. His partner was a centaur after all; if something like that could be true why couldn't the pile of paperwork develop a sudden appetite for Italian cops from Chicago?

Staring down at the report he was currently working on, Joe admitted that he might be getting just a touch stir-crazy. Definitely time for a break.

His partner chose that moment to walk back into the bullpen and slap a folder down on his desk.

Levon looked surprised at the fierce glare he got.

"That better not be more paperwork you're trying to foist off on me, Lundy," Joe growled at his partner, turning his glare onto the innocent looking file folder. He didn't reach for it though. After all it might snap. Joe blinked mentally at the thought. Forget stir-crazy, this stuff was driving him plain crazy.

"Joe?" Levon was now looking at him, curiously. After a moment his husband nodded. "You look like a man who's ready for lunch. Out."

"Yeah." Joe pushed back from his desk and stood up. "Before I become lunch."

"You what?" Levon asked. His look of curiosity was now more than slightly confused.

Joe waved it off. "Never mind. All this paperwork is turning my brain to mush. Don't expect me to make sense."

"OK." Levon grinned as if the notion didn't bother him at all. As if he were used to it.

Joe considered saying something about that but decided to let it pass. Truth to tell, there were enough times in the past that he and Levon had seemed to be speaking different languages that Levon probably was used to not understanding him.

He settled for shooting Levon a look and saying, "You're buying," as he led the way out of the bullpen.

"Fine. Been wanting to try out this new place Chicken told me about. Serves buffalo burgers."

Joe frowned. "You've got to be kidding."

Levon gave him a look of surprise. "Why would I kid about something like that? Lemme guess," he said with a knowing tone. "You've never had buffalo?"

"Where would I get buffalo in Chicago?" Joe asked, hiding a smile as he gave the expected reply. This was an argument they'd had many times in many different forms. One day, Joe thought, they'd get tired of it, but so far that day hadn't come.

His partner just gave him a flat look. "And how long have you been in Texas, boy?"

"Six years, three months, five days, eighteen hours and..." He made a show of looking at his watch, "16 minutes. And counting."

Levon stared at him for a very long moment. The elevator doors opened and they stepped on, before Levon spoke. Finally he asked, "How in the hell did you know that?"

Joe kept his expression completely deadpan with some effort. "You mean you don't?" he asked feigning shock. "What happened to that perfect memory you're always boasting that all centaurs have?"

Levon shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Of course I knew. I just didn't expect you to know. Didn't think you would have wanted to know how long you'd been here until at least a year after you arrived."

"No, I've always kept track," Joe said with a self-conscious shrug. "It was just my reasons for doing so that changed." In the beginning it had been like a prisoner keeping track of the days he'd been incarcerated, because that's what he'd felt like. It wasn't until later that he started thinking of that day as the turning point in his life. In a good way at least.

"Huh. Means it took you ten minutes to get from the gate to the desk where I was waiting." Levon smiled, and walked forward as the elevator doors pinged and slid open.

Joe stared after him a moment before rushing to catch up before the elevator doors closed again. Levon gave him a smirk and headed towards the car.

Ten minutes? Joe knew he had been dragging his feet but not that much. "I think your watch must've been fast," he said as they reached the car and he slid in behind the wheel.

"More likely you started counting soon as the plane touched ground," his partner responded. Levon leapt into the car without opening the door, and slid down into the seat.

"No, it was from the second I stepped off the plane," Joe replied, as he turned the key in the ignition. Then he paused and grinned. "Things must be going too well if this is the only thing we can find to argue about."

Levon laughed. "Could think of something else, if you're getting bored," he offered as they headed into traffic.

"Oh?" Joe asked, curious. "Like what?"

Levon remained quiet for a moment.

He shifted a bit in his seat, still quiet.

Another moment passed, and still he hadn't answered.

"Levon?" Joe took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at his partner, wondering if he should be concerned.

Finally Levon said, in a slow, thoughtful tone, "The only thing I can think of is you used too-ripe tomatoes the other night."

Joe blinked. "You mean you can't think of anything else you disagree with me on?"

"Not today," his mate said easily. "Musta been that breakfast in bed."

The memory caused a delicious shiver to run down Joe's spine. "You make a wonderful plate," he purred, letting his voice go low and husky.

"Watch out for that van."

Joe jerked his attention back to his driving and swerved around the double-parked vehicle with inches to spare. "Houston drivers," he muttered under his breath.

"Oughtta keep your eye on the road." Levon leaned back in his seat. "You know where we're going?" he added, casually.

Again Joe blinked, as he realized that he didn't. "Paperwork's turned my brain to mush," he growled, then tossed a glare at his smirking partner. "Okay, where?"

Again there was a laugh, then, "First off, you might wanna take a right up here, then a right at the next light."

Meaning, of course, he'd been going in the wrong direction. "One word..." he warned, as he turned right, then right again.

His partner was unable to say a thing... he was laughing too hard.

Joe endured it in silence, until he thought of the perfect revenge. Smiling sweetly at his mate he said, "When we get back to the station, you can take over the paperwork."

"OK," Levon said smoothly. There was just a hint -- the merest hint -- of subservience in his voice.

Joe grinned. Sometimes there were advantages to having married a centaur.

Then Levon asked casually, "Did I mention Joanne wants us to take over stakeout on Hatre's this afternoon?"

And sometimes there weren't. "Centaurs," Joe muttered under his breath as he pulled into the restaurant's parking lot.

He had to mutter again when Levon smiled, looking entirely unrepentant. His partner led the way inside, and soon was talking him into ordering an actual buffalo burger.

They enjoyed a quiet lunch -- the buffalo burger had tasted quite good, though Joe would never admit that -- then headed out to the stakeout. They relieved the other detectives and settled in for a long afternoon of watching.

As Joe took the first shift with the binoculars, he became aware that Levon was staring at him.

"What?"

"Nothing." There was silence for a few moments, during which his husband continued staring.

"Do I have buffalo stuck in my teeth or something?"

"No... you mind scooting back just a bit?"

Joe lowered the binoculars and looked at Levon. "You going to tell me what you're doing?"

"Trying to stare at your basket, if you'd just scoot back a bit," Levon snapped, grinning.

"We're working," Joe pointed out, trying to ignore the shiver of arousal that the idea that Levon was looking at him caused.

"You're working. I'm waiting for my turn."

Joe didn't miss the double entendre -- given who had had whom for breakfast that morning.... He shifted in his seat as he pants suddenly began to feel smaller. "You're the one who wanted a no-seduction while on stakeout rule."

"Who's seducing anybody? I'm not touching you. You watch the building over there and I'll stay over here."

"Look, if you were me and I was you, would you be able to concentrate on the job with me staring at you like you were dessert?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Lundy?"

"Hang on, I'm still parsing."

"Oh," Joe replied, wondering if he should be insulted. At least Levon wasn't staring at him anymore.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry?"

"S'okay." He glanced up at his partner and grinned. "You can stare at me tonight if you want."

Levon returned the grin and moved away. The burning sensation of being stared at was gone, and it stayed gone.

Joe wasn't entirely happy with it. He wasn't about to ask Levon to start staring at him again though.

Nope.

He wasn't.

"You can look if you want."

Okay, maybe he was.

For the third time that day, Levon was overcome with delighted laughter.

"If you gloat..." Joe warned.

"Would I do that?" Levon's voice sounded innocent, but it was accompanied by what was, to Joe, a familiar and undeniable sensation that he was being stared at.

"Yes."

There was no answer, except for the sensation of being stared at intensifing.

"Enjoying yourself?" Joe fought to keep the smile from showing.

"I am now." Levon sounded as if he were settled in for a long afternoon.

The smile escaping, Joe shook his head in fond exasperation.

The remainder of the afternoon was much the same. When it was time to trade, Levon sat down at the window -- all business. There was no sign -- and Joe checked Levon out closely -- that he was distracted by his indulgence.

"So do I get to stare at you now?"

Levon's hands tightened on the binoculars, but he said nothing. Chuckling, Joe settled down in his chair, letting his eyes rove over his husband's form.

Which moved, suddenly. Levon was standing, focused intently on something.

"Got something?" Joe asked, pushing everything but the business at hand to the back of his mind.

"Could be. They say if they'd identified any of Hatre's players?" Levon's voce was hard, and almost angry.

"A couple. You read the file, same as me. See somebody you know?"

Levon threw the binoculars down and turned, brushed past Joe and was heading for the door. By the time he hit the hallway beyond he was at a full run. Joe paused for a split second before following his partner, calling for backup as he ran.

He exited the building just in time to see Levon disappear through the front entrance of the place they'd been watching. "Dammit Lundy," he muttered under his breath as he ran. "You better have a good explanation for this..."

He crossed the street with some difficulty, and by the time he reached the door his mate had gone in, he had lost sight of him.

He entered, pistol in hand. The hallway was dark, and there were two doors farther along. Both were open, but he couldn't see anything.

Suddenly he heard a furious shout. Levon.

Heart in his mouth, Joe ran in the direction of the shout, praying he wouldn't hear a rain of gunfire before he got there. Dammit, what was his partner playing at?

There was, however, the sound of a heavy thud, then what sounded like something very large and heavy hitting a wall. He could hear Levon shouting, again, and then he heard another voice, taunting in reply.

A voice that he recognized...

He ran faster.

More sounds of what he knew now were fists striking flesh, and another thud that was followed by a crashing of metal.

He flew around a corner and saw Levon and Alexander trying to kill one another.

Unable to get a clear shot at Alexander with his partner in the way, he aimed one of his guns at the ceiling and fired. The sound reverberated in the small space almost like a living thing.

It didn't, however, stop the two enraged stallions.

"Lundy! Back off!"

Levon didn't appear to hear him. He continued trading blows with Alexander. As Joe watched, Alexander grabbed Levon and threw him against the wall. That was the heavy thud Joe had heard earlier.

His partner scrambled to his feet and lunged for Alexander again.

This time Joe intercepted him, holstering one gun and wrapping that arm around Levon from behind. "Stop it!" he yelled at his mate who continued struggling. At the same time Joe tried to keep his gun trained on Alexander. Not easy to do with a full-grown, enraged centaur in his arms. Even if the centaur was in human form.

Alexander didn't seem to notice or care that a gun was trained on his face. He lunged for Levon and tried to get his hands around the other stallion's neck. Levon threw a punch, off-balance due to Joe's interference.

This was not going well. Joe watched as Alexander staggered back a step or two from Levon's punch and realized about the only way he was going to stop him from charging at his partner again was to shoot. His finger started to tighten on the trigger...

Someone ran into the room behind him. Joe whirled, dragging Levon along with him as best he could with his partner still trying for Alexander's throat.

Dale blinked, then trained his own weapon on Alexander. He obviously had no clue as to what was going on, but apparently judged that if Levon was after the man, he must be the bad guy. Faced with more than one gun pointed at him, Alexander gave in, snarling at the detectives but raising his hands to show he was unarmed.

Levon, however, was still struggling to go after the other centaur again. Seeing that the other cops had Alexander in hand, Joe bodily hauled his partner out of the room and shoved him up against a wall in the hallway, pinning him there.

"Would you just calm the fuck down?!" he yelled.

Levon blinked, and slowly focused on him. He still looked enraged, but he stopped trying to fight his way out of Joe's grip.

"You here with me?" Joe asked, as he caught and held Levon's gaze. Inside he was shaking; Levon could've been killed.

Levon nodded slightly, but his gaze shifted back to Alexander.

Joe had to shove him back as Levon started towards him again. A glance over his shoulder told Joe the other centaur was being led out of the room in handcuffs and from Dale's and Joe-Bill's actions, he had lunged for Levon as well.

"Back off!" Joe told his partner, his tone more sharp than he had meant it to be. But dammit, Levon had scared him!

Levon suddenly froze. He looked up at him, and Joe could see the rage finally ebbing. He glanced one last time after Alexander, but he was out of sight and his shouts were dying away as well.

Cautiously, Joe loosened his grip on Levon's shoulders, ready to grab the man again if he made any move to go after Alexander. But whatever insanity had seized his partner seemed to have passed.

Seeing that he wasn't going to have to stop another centaur battle, Joe turned and leaned against the wall, letting himself finally feel the fear he hadn't had time for before. He let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes, a shudder running through his body at what might have happened if the backup hadn't shown up when it did.

There was no sound from his partner. Levon was still standing where Joe had left him, flat against the wall.

"You're not hurt or anything are you?" Joe asked, reaching out for Levon's arm.

"No." Levon sounded completely subdued. He looked completely subdued, as well.

And like he was waiting for something he didn't want to hear.

"You sure?"

Levon nodded. "Maybe a bruise or two," he finally admitted when Joe just looked at him.

Joe nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. Now that the fear was fading he found he was incredibly angry. "Do you mind," he began in a neutral, even voice, "telling me just what the hell you were thinking?!" The last few words came out at shouted volume.

"I wasn't--" Levon began with a return glare.

"Damned right you weren't! God Levon, following him in here -- there could've been an entire gang waiting to jump you! You could've been killed before I even got here -- we both could've been killed!"

Levon didn't respond, then only backed up as Joe grabbed his jacket at the shoulder. After a moment he said tentatively, "I didn't mean...."

"Didn't you hear me yelling at you to get clear? I couldn't get a shot off because you were in the way! Dammit, I thought I was going to end up watching him kill you!" Part of Joe was telling him to let up, but he couldn't. He'd been terrified, and all that adrenaline needed to go somewhere.

"I heard you--" Levon began, only to be cut off again.

"Then why didn't you do it?!"

"I--" Levon stopped himself, this time. He looked away.

"You say you want me to take care of you, protect you? How the hell am I supposed to do that when you don't do what I say?" Joe shook his head. "And it's not just that dominance thing, what you did in there was bad police procedure too. When your partner tells you to back off so he can get a clear shot, you do it!"

Levon went suddenly pale, and he didn't say a word. He just stared at Joe, eyes going wide with fear.

It was that look that convinced Joe he'd gone too far. He never wanted to see that look on his lover's face, and to see it directed at him... All of his anger drained out of him in a heartbeat.

"I didn't," Levon was whispering. He stopped, then said in a forced, whispered rush, "I didn't mean to." Levon backed away from him a single step, then stopped and looked resolute. Terrified, but resolved to take what was coming.

"Oh god, Levon..." Joe reached for him, feeling his heart clench when Levon flinched from his touch. He persisted though, pulling his husband into a close embrace.

Levon was shaking, and made no immediate move to return the hold. When Joe simply held him tighter, Levon raised his hands to rest at Joe's waist. Joe murmured comforting words, trying to project all the love and reassurance he could. Inside though, he was the one shaking.

After several long moments, Levon spoke. Even his voice was trembling. "I couldn't stop, Joe. I... I saw him. And--"

"And?" Joe kept his voice as low and soothing as he could, hugging Levon even tighter.

"He was in my territory, Joe," he ended faintly.

Joe considered this for a moment, in light of what he knew about centaurs. "So you're saying it was instinctive?"

Levon nodded against his shoulder.

"So you had no control over it? You had to go after him?"

"I tried to stop, when I heard you yelling at me... but I couldn't. I had to kill him." His mate still sounded scared.

"And my yelling at you just made it worse." It wasn't a question. Joe had seen for himself what his anger had done to Levon.

Again Levon nodded. "I couldn't...."

Joe sighed. "I understand, cowboy. Now. Wish I had before I ripped you a new one though."

"You ain't still mad?" Levon asked hesitantly, looking up at him.

"Mad at myself maybe." He grimaced. "I'm sorry Levon. I went off way more than I should've, even if you had acted like an idiot on purpose. My only excuse is I was scared."

"I'm sorry, Joe."

Joe dropped a kiss on Levon's forehead. "We okay now?"

"Are we? Just because I couldn't help what I did, doesn't change that I did it."

"What -- you think I'm going to hold something you can't control against you?" Joe asked, surprised. Levon didn't really think that, did he?

Levon shook his head. "The lieutenant might not either, but that won't change things if I've blown the case." The tone of resignation was all cop, no longer any sign of the enraged stallion. His partner looked at him with regret in his eyes.

"So let's find something that makes sure it's not blown," Joe replied, hugging Levon one more time before releasing him and moving back towards the room the fight had been in. He heard his partner following slowly. He ignored it, however, in favor of finding something -- anything -- that could justify their coming inside the building and dragging Alexander away.

The room Levon and Alexander had been fighting in was a mess -- one filing cabinet was overturned and papers were strewn everywhere.

"Well nobody's gonna notice if we toss this place now," Joe muttered, kneeling down and starting to sort through the scattered paperwork. 'Isn't this how I started my workday?' he wondered idly. 'Looking through papers?'

Levon began on the other side of the room, digging quickly, scanning pages and setting them aside.

Most of the papers dealt with the day-to-day business of Hatre's Furniture and appeared, at least on the surface, to be of no use. But there were a few...

A few papers mentioned transactions without getting into the specifics of what the merchandise involved was. And they corresponded to information the department already had about the dates of incoming shipments.

Joe held up a folder of such records. "I think we might just have something here, cowboy," he said, grinning at his partner.

"What?" Levon looked over, still sorting through the papers at his feet.

"From what I can tell, these are talking about some of the big drug shipments that Hatre has been bringing in. And they mention names of the people he's been doing business with."

Paperwork. Sometimes he loved it.

Levon gave him a grin. "Isn't that convenient?" His grin shifted into a look of cheerful innocence. "Don't suppose that was the folder Alexander was carrying?"

Joe made a show of inspecting the folder closely. "Looks like it to me," he said after a moment, totally ignoring that he hadn't seen Alexander until the stallion was engaged in a battle royal with Levon.

It was his job to take care of Levon. If he had to lie to do so, he'd lie.

Levon paused, and reached over to another scattered pile. He dragged out an envelope. Joe watched him check it and find the flap was merely tucked in, not sealed.

"What's that?"

"Something Alexander was carrying." Levon pulled the pages out and unfolded them. He looked up with a grin. "The name Tony Harper mean anything to you?"

"You're kidding!" Harper was suspected of being one of the top people involved in the drug trade not only in Houston, but for all of Texas -- and probably beyond. So far, nobody had been able to get anything on him.

"Nope." Levon held the pages out to him. He took them, and read quickly. A shipping invoice signed by Harper. Time, date, and manifest all matched with last month's drug bust.

Joe looked up and grinned at his partner. "We got him!"

"What was that you said about a cell on the fifth floor?"

"With this, we'll make sure he gets prison's equivalent of the penthouse."

They gave the rest of the paperwork a thorough check, and gathered up everything that seemed relevant. By this time, some uniformed officers had arrived and they proceeded to turn the building upside-down.

Alexander had been placed in the back of one of the black and whites by the time Joe and Levon finally came back on the street.

"Alexander's still here," Joe said to Levon in a low voice, reaching out a hand to help steady his mate if it was needed.

Levon shot a glare at the other stallion, then gave him a triumphant, taunting smile and brief wave. "Suits him," he said of the car.

"Yeah, he'll look even better in prison orange," Joe replied. "Come on. Joanne's gonna be wanting our report."

They headed over to where Lieutenant Beaumont was directing the detectives, and officers. When she spotted them, she frowned. "Just what in the world happened here, LaFiamma?" she said quietly when they got close.

Joe glanced at Levon quietly asking if he was okay with them telling the Lieutenant the truth. Levon shrugged, but nodded.

"Lundy saw an exiled stallion go into the building, one he's had problems with before. He went in after him, I went after Lundy. Backup showed and arrested the man in question."

"Went in after him?" she repeated in disbelief. "Oh that's just great, Lundy. What am I supposed to--"

"Alexander was carrying this," Joe interrupted, cutting off Joanne's tirade before it could get going by handing her the envelope they had found. There was no way he was going to let her yell at Levon about this. Not after what had happened earlier.

She stopped, took the envelope and read. Her eyes grew big. "Yes! We have him!" Then she gave them a curious look. "How did you know he had this-- no, don't tell me. Good work, you two. Maybe we can blow this thing outta the water once and for all."

"Thanks Lieutenant," Joe said, smiling smugly.

"Don't thank me. If you hadn't found this," she held up the papers.

"We would've found something else." There was no trace of doubt in Joe's voice.

The lieutenant didn't reply, but her look told them everything. They were lucky they had found something, but she wasn't going to push it.

As she started past them, Levon apologized, very quietly. Beaumont paused, looked at him, then nodded and continued on.

As they were walking back to their car, Joe found himself chuckling as he remembered a conversation from earlier in the day. Nudging Levon he said, "You didn't have to try so hard to find something for us to fight about. Next time we'll just argue about the tomatoes."

Levon gave him a startled look, then laughed.

The bullpen was its usual state of activity. Loud, seemingly undirected motion, and someone shouting his name angrily all made him want to give up and go home.

He looked over at the door, smiling in some relief. His partner was on his way up.

Following his partner's progress through the building with his hearing, he heard him trade greetings with people he passed, then heard him step onto the elevator. He counted the seconds as the elevator rose to the seventh floor, the count ending when he heard the soft ding as the doors opened up onto the Major Crimes floor.

"Ellison!"

He winced as his hearing -- turned up to track Blair -- was overpowered momentarily by Banks' loud voice. He turned, letting his captain see the pained wince and glare.

Not that the expression had any effect on Simon Banks. "My office," he said, then adding as Blair entered the bullpen, "You too Sandburg!" before turning and heading back into his office himself.

With a weary sigh, Jim hauled his butt out of his chair and followed Simon. As Blair caught up, Jim touched him briefly on the shoulder and found himself relaxing for the first time all day.

Blair grinned up at him for a second, deliberately brushing against Jim's side before stepping past him and taking his usual place perched on the edge of the conference table. "So what's up Simon?"

The captain handed over a folder. "An open case we might get a chance to close."

Jim took the folder and began flipping through it. "Drugs out of Honduras," he said, remembering the case.

He sensed Blair leaning forward to read over his shoulder. "Didn't the guy in charge... what's his name... skip town?"

"Yeah," Jim replied. "We almost nailed him, but he slipped through somehow. Tony Harper." He handed the folder over to Blair. He recalled all the details he needed, for now.

"So what's happened, Simon?"

"Got a fax from Houston PD. Apparently they've come upon some new evidence in one of their busts that lead them to believe Harper may be back in town," the Captain answered, pulling out a cigar as he spoke.

"Just what we need," Jim muttered. It wasn't like he didn't want Harper put away, for a long time, but he already had three cases on his desk and chasing after Harper hadn't been a lot of fun the first time.

"What did they find?" Blair asked.

"A series of invoices, detailing his and his 'merchandise's' movements in both Houston and Cascade. And from their information, he's been cutting back in Houston as the police get closer and stepping up operations here again."

"Do we have any current addresses?"

"It's in the file, along with a copy of all the information faxed from Houston."

"Why are we sitting here, then?" He glanced at Blair. "Come on, Chief, let's go see if we can track this guy down." Jim stood and headed for the door, then paused. "Is there anything else, sir?"

"See if you can close this one fast Jim." Simon's voice dropped. "There's been rumblings that they might send the Houston cops working the case up here to 'pool our resources' if this isn't closed yesterday."

"Great," Jim rolled his eyes. "That's all we need. Out of town yokels." He gave his partner a grin, since he didn't really mind the thought that much. They shouldn't have any problem finding Harper and shutting him down before HPD could scrounge the resources to ship two cops up.

"We'll get right on it Simon," Blair said as he slid off the table and followed his partner out of the office and over to Jim's desk. "So where are we starting?" He automatically moved aside to let Jim get to his chair then leant over.

"Well, we have a list of possible contacts, people Harper was working with last time who also slipped the net. We find out which of them are still out there -- not dead and not in jail, that is -- and go pay them each a visit until we find Harper."

"Want me to run the list through the computer?" Blair asked, pulling his glasses out and putting them on as he settled down to help with the research.

Jim leant back and looked at his partner. As he moved out of the way and Blair scooted towards the computer, he could practically see the 'serious researcher' settle over his normally exuberant lover. He grinned as Blair began typing, enjoying the way Blair started to focus, losing track of everything else around him.

The grad student quickly inputted the proper parameters, then sat back as the machine began searching for the requested information. "Should only be a minute," he said looking up at Jim, catching him watching and grinning. "What?" he asked, shaking his head and smiling slightly in return.

"Sounds good," Jim answered. "All this sitting around is hard on my ass," he added casually.

Blair's smile widened and his voice dropped in volume to sentinel soft levels. "Wait until we get home and I'll show you hard on your ass."

All in all Jim was glad he wasn't actually working. Flirting with Blair made it difficult to concentrate, even when doing so was second nature to him. "Then the faster you get those names the faster we can check them out."

As if in answer, the computer beeped, announcing that its search was done. "Got them," Blair said, turning back to the screen and hitting the button to print it out.

The whirring of the nearby printer drew Jim's attention and it was with only a little effort that he dredged his focus away from the sound. He watched Blair's hands, hovering over the paper coming out, and inhaled for his Guide's scent. Much better distractions than a printer.

Blair grabbed the sheet as the printer spewed it out and turned back to Jim. "It's not too bad. Only six that aren't accounted for in one way or another." He handed the list over.

Jim scanned it, recalling what he knew about each person listed and ordering the names on the list appropriately.

"Let's get out of here, Chief."

"Right with you, man."

The first two were busts. The first, a mousy little Hispanic bookie, was so overwhelmed with his current line of work that they were able to easy determine he had not heard, nor would be hearing, from Harper.

The second was more literally a bust -- Jim and Blair walked in on the woman as she was washing the ink off her hands from the printing press. They arrested her for forging Jags playoff tickets, and in the process found out she knew nothing about Harper.

The third, well the third was... interesting. If for no other reason than Blair's reaction to it.

They found Dan Roffman in his office at the back of Fantasia, the nightclub he owned and operated. And was suspected of running a stable of prostitutes out of, though so far the police hadn't collected enough evidence to close him down.

As they moved through the bar, they were greeted -- with various degrees of friendliness -- by the employees. One girl seemed to catch Jim's partner's eye, though she turned and left nearly as soon as they entered.

Jim had to say Blair's name twice before the other man looked at him.

"What?" Blair asked as his eyes once more drifted in the direction the girl had gone. He seemed shocked as well as distracted, and shaken up on top of both.

"Someone you know?" Jim asked, concerned. Blair had contacts in the most unusual places, making friends among all walks of life. Ever since Amber, though, Jim knew Blair had a special spot for prostitutes.

Especially the too-young ones.

"Huh? Oh. No. At least I don't think so..." The last seemed to have been added almost as an afterthought and appeared to be more Blair thinking out loud than talking to Jim.

Jim gave him a nudge. "Come on, let's find Roffman." He made a note to keep an eye out for the girl. If Blair knew her, they'd have to get her out of this before the boom came down.

"Yeah." Blair's expression was unusually serious as he followed Jim back towards the office.

Jim kept a hand on his partner as they went. The lackey at the door was only too eager to let them into Roffman's office -- once Jim snarled and flashed his badge.

If Jim had to pick one word to describe Roffman it would've been "slimy". The man, though average in appearance and above average in dress, just oozed a kind of anti-charm that made one want to take a shower after breathing the same air.

The thought of taking a shower with Blair made him miss the man's opening statement. Fortunately he knew what it was likely to be, and Jim simply stepped smoothly into the conversation.

"Roffman, we don't have time for any nonsense. Why don't you save yourself a lot of trouble and just answer our questions?"

Roffman leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. "I'm always willing to cooperate with the cops. Ask away, detective."

Jim opened his mouth to do so but was distracted for a second by a sound from beside him. Did his partner just snarl?

He briefly flattened his hand against Blair's back, and felt a heart beat pounding fiercely. Keeping his concern hidden, Jim said, "It's about one of your new suppliers. An old one, actually, who just got back into business locally."

"And who would this alleged supplier be?" Roffman asked. He gave Blair an odd look before turning his attention back to Jim.

Jim felt Blair's muscles tense under his hand.

"The Texan. I forget his name..." Jim trailed off, pretending to be calm. He wasn't. He had no idea what had set Blair off, and Roffman knew whom Jim was talking about. Jim ran a finger down Blair's back, hoping to calm -- or distract -- him.

Roffman gave Jim a half-smile and a tilted up eyebrow. "I'm not sure how you expect me to be of any assistance if you don't have a name-"

"Harper."

Jim almost jumped at the sound of Blair's voice. He was not used to hearing his lover growl.

At least not in anger.

He focused in quickly on Roffman as the man reacted to the name. Definitely guilty, though he continued smiling with that same greasy charm.

"Harper? I don't know anyone by that name. Sorry I can't help you, officers."

Jim gave him a bland smile. "If you should happen to run into him, remember that we're going to be back. A lot."

Roffman's smile never faltered. "Always happy to help out gentlemen. Come back whenever you'd like. I'll even, for you, waive the cover charge."

"I'd rather have a root canal than hang out here for entertainment. Come on Jim. We're wasting our time with this asshole." Blair turned and left in a cloud of palpable anger.

Jim followed. He tried to catch up to his partner but that proved nearly impossible. He didn't manage it until they had made it back to the truck and then only because Blair had stopped and leaned against the passenger door, eyes closed, head back, breathing deeply.

Jim watched him for a moment, waiting until Blair had regained some control. Then, "What happened in there, Chief?"

Blair shrugged. "Guy just rubbed me the wrong way."

Surprised, Jim checked his lover's vitals again. His heart rate was returning slowly to normal, but he was breathing hard and still looked entirely too focused on the slimeball inside.

"You want me to go in and rip his face off?" Jim asked casually, after another moment.

That earned him a startled look. "Nah," Blair said, after several seconds. "That would take all of the fun out of stomping on it myself."

Shaking his head and smiling, Jim motioned towards the truck. "Come on, Chief. Let's get out of here and check those last two names. Although I think we found our guy."

"Yeah me too." Blair started to open the passenger door, then paused. "If not, can we bust him just on principle?"

Jim grinned. They headed off for the next address and Jim pushed the issue of what had happened at the club to the back of his mind. He'd either figure it out eventually, or Blair would spill when he was ready.

They checked out the last two names finding, much as they expected, nothing overly suspicious. By the time they had finished the last interview it was late enough that they decided to call it a day and headed back to the loft.

Blair hadn't said a word about Roffman for the rest of the afternoon. Jim was wondering whether he would have to start prying, or if he should just leave it alone.

As he watched Blair heading for the kitchen, and realized which jeans his partner had on, he opted for 'leaving well enough alone'. He focused on one of the worn spots near Blair's left butt cheek. He followed Blair, and grabbed him around the waist.

Blair looked mildly up at his lover, though, as always, there was a certain affection shining in his eyes. "You want something, man?" he asked mildly.

"Dinner," Jim replied, and his began nibbling on the best part of dinner. Blair.

"Your turn to cook," Blair pointed out, gesturing at the kitchen, though he made no move to get away.

"I feel like eating Sandburg tartar."

Blair let out an exaggerated aggrieved sigh. "Guess I'll have to see to my own meal," he complained, turning in Jim's embrace, his hands running lightly over Jim's body. "Maybe... tube steak?" he suggested, eyes gleaming wickedly as his hand cupped Jim's crotch.

Jim growled in response and pressed himself against Blair's hand. He placed a hand behind Blair's head and held him still long enough to capture his lover's mouth. Slipping his free hand up around Jim's neck, Blair's other hand squeezed teasingly as he slipped his tongue past Jim's lips.

Normally at a time like this the phone would ring, there would be a knock on the door, or one of the two principles would realize he really had to use the toilet. In this instance, Jim and Blair were left relatively undisturbed, if not unmolested, for an hour.

Then the phone rang.

Blair groaned, looking up from his position sprawled over Jim on the couch (having never made it upstairs) and glared at the offending device. "One of these days I'll remember to turn it off before you jump me," he muttered.

Jim nuzzled his lover as he reached for the phone. Grabbing blindly, it took him a minute to pick it up, and get it oriented correctly.

"Hello?"

"Hi Jim," a familiar cheerful female voice said. "Can I talk to Blair?"

"Sure, Naomi. Let me get him."

Jim held the phone out and grabbed Blair.

Blair took it, propping himself up on one elbow on Jim's chest as he put the phone to his ear. "Mom?"

"Hi Sweetie." Naomi paused. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"Nothing but the afterglow."

Jim clamped his jaw over his laugh, but watched as his lover bounced on his stomach. He heard Naomi pause again, then ask, "Should I call back when you're finished?"

"No, it's okay," Blair replied, glaring at Jim who was still suppressing his laughter. 'It wasn't that funny,' he mouthed at the Sentinel. "What's up, Mom?"

"I was just calling to find out if next week would be a good time for me to visit. After I showed up unannounced last time I thought I ought to call ahead."

Jim watched as Blair blushed, feeling his own face heat a little at the memory. Naomi had walked in on the two of them testing the sturdiness of the kitchen table. Though it had been one way of letting his partner's mother in on the nature of their relationship, he would definitely prefer to avoid any repeat performances.

"Uhm, yeah Mom," Blair was answering. "That should be okay. Jim and I are working on a hot case right now but hopefully it'll be all wrapped up by then."

"Wonderful! I'll be in Cascade sometime Thursday or Friday... maybe Wednesday if Clara moves. Listen, honey, I've got to go. Give Jim a kiss for me and I'll see you!"

She had hung up before Blair could say bye. He handed the phone back to Jim to hang up and flopped back down again.

Jim waited a moment, letting the sensation of having his lover -- two- thirds naked -- on top of him before he spoke. "So... should we re- arrange the furniture before she gets here?"

Blair snorted. "Wouldn't do much good. Of course we could always arrange to distract her when she first gets here, like last time. She left the furniture alone then."

"True. Of course you realize that since we don't know exactly when she'll be here we'll have to spend two days having sex." Jim leered at his lover, cheerfully.

"You say that like you expect me to object," Blair replied, leering right back.

"Naw, I was just warning you we'll have to stock up on lube." He lunged up then, and attached himself to Blair's neck again.

Another hour passed before the two finally managed to stir themselves sufficiently to get off the couch and start thinking about supper again.

It was when they were finally in the kitchen preparing dinner that Jim thought back on his partner's reactions to Roffman. Though Blair hadn't spoken of it, he had a feeling Blair had not forgotten about it.

He debated with himself for a few minutes, then finally asked. "Blair? What was with you and Roffman?"

Blair froze for a moment before going back to setting the table. "I told you, Jim. He just rubbed me the wrong way."

"Why? Sure he's a sleazebag, but normally you're very... diplomatic. Did it have something to do with that girl?"

"She seemed awfully young to be in a place like that."

Jim ran the picture of the girl back through his mind. She did look young, but could have been eighteen. Knowing Roffman, she wasn't necessarily of age.

"Looked like you knew her," Jim tried again to figure out what had happened. He didn't think Blair would keep anything from him -- unless it was something Blair thought he, as a cop, should not be bothered with.

"I'd never seen her before in my life." Blair was continuing his share of the dinner preparations, carefully avoiding meeting Jim's eyes. "I don't need to know somebody to be upset that they're being used."

Jim reached out and took Blair's arm. "I didn't mean it like that, Blair."

Blair sighed. "I know." Jim waited but the younger man said nothing more.

"Look, if she's in Roffman's stable then she'll most likely be out working tonight. Why don't we go look for her, ask her some questions about Roffman. Maybe we can get some information, and try to... I don't know. Maybe there'll be something we can do for her." There wasn't much more he could offer.

"You'd do that?"

"Of course, Blair. I don't like seeing young girls out on the street any more than you do." Frowning, he thought of all the times when he was in Vice that he'd run across too-young girls trapped in drugs and prostitution. Too often there had been nothing he could do for them but give them a fifty to get off the street for an hour and grab something decent to eat.

Blair looked at him, abashed, one hand reaching out and making contact with Jim's own. "Sorry. I know that you care. I just..." He trailed off with a shrug. "I guess I get stuck in my own head a little too much sometimes."

Jim snorted a laugh. "Really? This from the man who had his nose stuck in a book the entire time the kitchen faucet burst, spraying water all over the floor?"

"Hey, I was upstairs and the lights were out down here! Not all of us have sentinel senses remember."

Jim shook his head. "And how many times did I yell your name before you poked your head downstairs?"

"Maybe I've just gotten used to you yelling my name?" Blair suggested with a sly grin.

"Maybe I should start calling you "Darwin" in bed then?" Jim took the bowl out of Blair's hands and sidled in for a kiss.

Blair cooperated then pulled back grinning. "You already do," he said, "along with a dozen or so others. When you're not just moaning incoherently."

"I do not!" Jim leaned back. Surely he didn't....

"If you say so Jim." Blair set the dishes of food on the table and took his seat. "But somebody always seems to be making a lot of noise and I usually have my mouth full at the time."

Jim dropped the --luckily empty -- plate he was holding. Blair chuckled and dug into his food.

They managed to eat dinner with a modicum of decorum -- but only because Jim kept forcing himself not to meet Blair's gaze. It was difficult, and Jim promised himself that as soon as he had a chance, he was going to prove that he didn't do anything of the sort.

When they had finished and were washing up the dishes, Blair asked quietly, "Where do you think we should start looking for her?"

Jim considered. "Most of Roffman's girls work 4th, and the corner of Davis and Roadhouse. We could start there." He glanced up at his partner, and added, "If we go early we should be able to find her before she gets any customers."

Blair nodded and headed to go get his coat.

The drive to 4th street was silent. Jim started several times to say something, or nudge his partner, but each time he kept quiet. There was nothing either could say that would make this any easier.

They turned onto 4th, and he pulled over and parked.

The street wasn't very busy this time of the evening, but in another hour that would change. Hopefully they could find the girl....

"Jim."

He glanced over to see his lover looking at him with wide, serious eyes.

Blair reached out and took his hand. "I didn't say it before-- but thanks for doing this," he said quietly.

"You're welcome." He gave Blair's hand a light squeeze. "Now let's find this girl. Maybe she can help us nail Roffman."

He started scanning the crowds along the sidewalks, first up one side of the street then down the other. He focused briefly on each face, searching for the girl he'd caught a glimpse of at the club.

"You see her?"

"Not yet. Let's head down," he indicated with a nod of his head. "I can't make out the far end of the street."

Blair chuckled. "Have to feed you more carrots."

He gave his lover a light pinch on his side, then began walking.

They wandered the streets for awhile but though there were plenty of girls out, the one they were looking for in particular did not seem to be among them.

As time went on Jim could sense Blair getting more tense and worried at his side.

"She's not here," the grad student was muttering under his breath. "How can we help her if we can't find her?"

"Calm down," Jim paused before adding, "Darwin. Let's go check Davis and Roadhouse."

Blair nodded, but still radiated tension as they climbed back into the truck.

Jim took Blair's hand again before he pulled the truck into traffic. "Relax, Blair. We know where to find her if she isn't here. Fantasia."

"Fantasia." Blair's lip curled in derision. "That name is a bad joke."

"I think that's the point," Jim agreed. He turned the truck around quickly, merging into traffic smoothly for a change, and headed for Davis Ave.

When they arrived he parked again, away from the corner. He could see the working girls from where they sat and he checked each of them out.

There were three pairs of girls, standing together, and a fourth set with three. As he watched, a fourth joined them and the group moved farther down from the corner.

It was her. Jim jumped out of the truck. Blair was just a step behind him.

The girl looked up as they got close, her eyes widening in panicked recognition when they fell on Blair. Instantly she turned and ran. What startled Jim was that the three girls with her, ran as well. He started after them when Blair's hand on his arm stopped him.

"You won't be able to catch them," his partner told him quietly.

"Huh?" He stopped, and faced his partner. "What are you--" He turned, hearing the girls' escape down the street. He could track them -- could have, if Blair hadn't interrupted him.

"Once they started running there was no way you'd be able to keep up. They're... fast."

Jim turned his attention fully onto his partner. "I thought you said you didn't know her?"

"I don't."

He digested this. "So how do you know she and her friends run fast? Too fast for me to track them down?"

Blair sighed, looking wearier than Jim could ever remember him looking. "Because I know what they are."

Jim blinked. "What are they? Beside scared kids? Hookers?" He tried not to sound cynical; truth was he was confused.

Blair shook his head. "They're centaurs."

Levon climbed out of the truck and slowly followed Joe towards the house. The sun was nearly down and the wind had picked up. It was cold, but not so cold that Levon wouldn't be thinking about a run.

Joe watched him, thinking about suggesting just that. And maybe a brushing afterwards. For both of them. He stopped and let his partner catch up, then slung his arm around Levon's shoulders. "Tired?" he asked.

Levon nodded. He leaned a little into Joe's embrace and closed his eyes.

Running his hand soothingly down Levon's back, Joe leaned in and dropped a kiss on his lover's forehead. "Want me to brush you?" If Levon was as tired as he looked the run was probably out of the question, but pampering Levon was probably just what the doctor ordered.

Levon looked at him and grinned. "You know, you could probably stop asking me that. Answer's always gonna be 'yes'."

Joe grinned back, as always feeling his heart turn over when Levon looked at him that way. "I like asking," he said, tightening his embrace as he steered them towards the barn. "I like watching your reaction."

Levon looked him right in the eye -- his own already starting to glaze over. "My reaction, huh? You saying you like seeing me," he stepped forward and stopped, letting Joe walk into him, "like this?"

"Yep," Joe said, feeling his own breathing speed up a little at Levon's obvious desire. "That's what I'm saying."

Levon tilted his head slightly to one side and back a bit as he considered his husband. "So what're ya gonna do with me now that you got me like this?" The fact that Levon was still able to talk, meant Joe hadn't gotten him exactly where he wanted him. Yet.

"First I'm going to watch you strip and change," Joe told him, keeping his voice low and husky, his tone intimate. "Then I'm gonna brush you until you prove to me once again that centaurs can purr." He leaned over and nipped at an ear lobe. "After that... well, I'm sure I'll think of something."

That did it. Levon's eyes had gone completely blank. They were focused on him, and Joe knew that his lover wouldn't -- couldn't, in fact -- move unless he told him where to go.

Smiling fondly, he nudged Levon in the direction of the barn. "Come on," he said softly. "The sooner we get inside the sooner we can start." Levon followed willingly, barely even tripping over his feet as Joe guided him inside. Once there, he stripped easily, grinning up at Joe as he dropped his clothes in a pile.

"I love watching you do this," Joe told him, making sure his appreciation showed on his face and in his body language. "One of the fringe benefits of being married to a centaur."

Looking over at him, Levon paused in mid-sock-removal. "You saying you wouldn't strip for me?"

"Never said that. And I seem to recall more than one occasion where I have. You just have more reasons to have to strip."

Levon tossed the final bit of clothing down and walked towards him. "So I need to give you more reasons to strip down, is that it?"

Joe smiled fondly at him, reaching out to caress his cheek. "All you ever have to do is ask, cowboy."

Levon looked at him, obviously thinking something over. After a moment he ventured, "Station's parking garage?"

"Depends," Joe admitted, after making a show of considering. "You going to be getting naked with me there?"

"Sure." Levon shrugged. "Since you're the one has to explain it to the lieutenant."

"I'll just tell her it was a centaur thing."

Levon smiled, and said in a serious tone, "I'll be sure and take you up on it, then." He came closer, and his eyes started glazing again -- Joe noticed it was for real, this time. "You said something about brushing me?" he asked, hopefully.

"You gonna change so I can?" Joe replied, smiling himself. "Or do you want me to do that thing with the toothbrush you use on me?"

Levon's eyes went completely unfocused. Irises dilated until there was no color left... This, Joe recognized, was definitely not something his lover was going to shake off.

He grinned.

Slipping his arms around Levon's waist he leaned in close and whispered, "So which is it gonna be?"

Levon whimpered and tried to press himself against Joe.

Joe tightened his grip and nuzzled Levon's neck. "Centaur," he asked, licking at Levon's jaw line, "or human?" He felt his lover shudder, moan softly, and not answer. Hands clutched at sleeves, and Levon turned his head, searching for Joe.

Smiling Joe said, "Or we could just skip that and..." He didn't get any further as Levon's seeking mouth found his.

Much later, Joe looked over at his mate. They were both fairly covered with straw, although they had -- well, he had -- laid a blanket down.

"You know," he said casually, reaching out and picking straw from Levon's blond locks, "if we were just gonna roll around in the hay we could've gone to the house where we have a bed for this kind of thing."

"What for?" Levon gave him a perplexed look. It almost looked genuine.

"Well, for one thing it would keep us from getting straw in some rather uncomfortable places."

Levon rolled over -- half on top of him -- and began removing pieces of straw. "You just gotta learn to ignore it."

"Maybe we should get an old mattress and leave it out here."

"Old mattresses were stuffed with straw, you know. Could just get a bigger blanket." Levon tugged on his arm, going after more bits of straw.

Joe laughed as his lover pushed and pulled at him, to get at all the bits of straw still clinging stubbornly, unable to help comparing it to how Boots would hold Trouble down to groom him.

"You're the one who got it there in the first place," Levon told him as he laughed.

"I had some help, if I remember correctly."

His lover stopped and gave him a surprised look. "I wasn't on that side of you."

"If you were, you would've been the one who got straw up his-"

"You saying I didn't?" Levon grinned. He reached down, though, and started feeling around for any missed straw.

Joe looked up at him and was suddenly struck by exactly how much Levon really meant to him. This happened every now and then, when a stray look at his lover would set off all of his feelings.

"Hey." He reached up, cupping Levon's cheek gently. "I love you."

"You're not just saying that because I've got my hand..." Levon twitched one his fingers.

Joe yelped. "Watch it!"

"Don't need to. Can feel my way pretty well." He moved his fingers again, as if to prove his point.

Joe twitched in response. "Levon..."

"Sorry." Levon withdrew his hand meekly. Joe saw the flash in his eyes, though.

"Yeah, sure you are." He sat up throwing Levon an aggrieved look that was mostly fake. "I tell you I love you and you assault me," he declared with mock pathos.

"Hey!" Levon protested. "I was assaulting you before you said you loved me. This time, I mean," he added.

Joe thought about that, reviewing exactly when Levon's hand had.... "You're right." He paused. "So why did you stop?"

"Needed it for this," he brought his hand around to Joe's front, and grabbed something else.

Joe yelped even louder.

Once the yelping had stopped -- about half an hour later -- Levon wandered over to the center of the barn.

"Are you still gonna brush me? Or can you move at all?"

Joe felt like jello. Molten, liquefied, jello. "Give me a minute," he said. Or groaned. "Maybe better make that a year or two," he clarified as he was totally unsure if his legs would hold him right then.

He felt his lover's arms slid under him, then he was being lifted.

"Wanna ride to the house?" Levon had changed and was holding him close with apparent ease.

"Yeah." Joe realized he was still naked himself. "What about my clothes?"

"Won't need 'em," Levon told him with an assured tone.

"Oh." He tried to think about it, but thinking required energy he didn't have at the moment. Joe sighed and let himself go limp in Levon's arms. "Okay."

The last thing he felt was Levon's arms holding him, then he was sound asleep.

The next thing Joe was aware of was the damned alarm clock going off.

It was shut off quickly, and a warm body snuggled against him.

"I really am going to shoot it one of these days," Joe muttered around a yawn as he instinctively moved even closer to the warm body holding him. So far he hadn't bothered to open his eyes.

"Won't help. Tried it once," came a sleepy voice.

"Only because somebody went out and bought a replacement that afternoon." Joe sighed as he felt sleep drift further away each time he spoke.

There was a pause, then, "Didn't mean that time. I actually did shoot it once...." Levon sounded hesitant, and guilty.

Huh? Joe opened one eye to look at his husband. "When was this?"

Levon squirmed and answered slowly, "About a month before Caroline was killed. She had started sleeping in the guest room couple months earlier and I... I had my gun under the pillow."

"May I ask why?" Joe inquired carefully, not letting any of the turmoil of emotions he was feeling show in his face or his voice.

"Was sorta still drunk when the alarm went off," Levon said meekly.

Joe winced at that. "I meant why were you sleeping with the gun to begin with?"

Levon shifted, and started to roll away from him.

Joe wouldn't let him move though. He was getting more worried by the second. "Levon?" he asked softly, encouragingly, holding him close as he did.

"Thought I might need it," was all he would say. The look on his face told Joe all he needed to know.

"Oh Levon," Joe breathed, the knowledge coming as almost a physical blow to him. He could've lost Levon before ever finding him! In response he molded his body to his lover's and refused to let go. Levon just held onto him as well. For a long time they simply lay there.

Then the phone rang.

Joe did not want to move, did not want to let go of his mate so that one of them could answer it. Stubbornly, he decided he wasn't going to.

He heard a giggle muffled against his chest.

"Something funny?" he asked, not making any effort to keep the censure out of his voice.

"Always rings when we're naked, pressed up against each other... this time we weren't even doing anything." The amusement in Levon's voice had been obvious with the first few words, but it had completely died out as Levon finished. He looked up, hesitantly. There was a pause, then Levon said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry you ever felt that desperate," Joe replied, meaning every word.

Levon ducked his head back down against Joe's chest and said nothing.

The phone went silent.

After a moment he realized Levon was shaking and trying very hard not to let it show. Joe spared a second to wonder what had brought this confession on now but then turned all his attention to comfort. He tightened his embrace and whispered reassuring words to his lover, not even aware of what he was saying, just that he had to fix this.

After a few moments he heard Levon whisper something. He listened, and heard it again. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Joe asked gently, truly mystified.

"For laughing," came the whispered reply.

"What?" He leaned back and tilted his head, trying to get a look at Levon's face.

Levon turned away and didn't say anything else.

Joe sighed. "Levon, look at me," he said softly but with enough of a command to it that he knew Levon would obey.

Levon looked up at him. His mate looked contrite -- and confused.

Experience had taught Joe that in situations like these he needed to take things one at a time. "Why are you sorry for laughing?"

Levon looked even more confused. "Because you... you yelled at me when I did."

"I what?" Joe mentally reviewed the last few minutes and realized that maybe he had raised his voice a little. "Levon I wasn't yelling at you." He paused and thought about it some more. "Okay, maybe I was but I wasn't angry at you."

The expression on Levon's face went from partly confused to fully confused -- and the contrition faded completely. "You sounded like it. Don't tell me you were just joking."

"I was angry -- at the damn phone for ringing!" He dropped his voice and his gaze. "And at what you went through and the fact that there's no way I can go back in time and fix it."

He watched as his husband took a deep breath and apparently thought this over. Then Levon nodded. Joe felt the tension leave his lover's body, and Levon settled himself back on top of him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and for a moment just enjoyed Levon's closeness. But his mind wouldn't stop picking at it. "Does this have something to do with what I did yesterday?"

"You said you weren't mad at me any more for that," Levon replied, but Joe detected a note of something like uncertainty.

"But you're not sure you believe me," Joe murmured, more statement than question.

"I believe you, Joe... I was just pretty scared."

"I'm sorry." Joe sighed. This was why he had been leery about the dominance thing in the first place -- he had just known he would end up screwing it up and Levon would be hurt as a result.

Levon hugged him tightly, just then, and he looked up. Joe could see the confusion was gone and had been replaced with a calm confidence and love.

Joe's mouth quirked upward into a half grin. "Forgive me for screwing up?" he asked, suddenly feeling better.

"Reckon so. Otherwise I'd have to trade you in on a new model."

That surprised a laugh out of Joe. "We're okay then," he ventured when he got control of himself again.

Levon snuggled a bit further into Joe's hold. "Reckon we are," he said softly, if not entirely forcefully.

Joe wondered if he should follow up on that or if he was getting jumpy.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe finally said a few minutes later, deciding that letting it drop entirely without being sure would probably be a bad idea.

"Sure," Levon said, sounding content and sleepy again.

"Why did you tell me about shooting the alarm clock this morning?"

Levon raised his head and looked at him. From his expression, Joe could tell his mate didn't quite know.

Levon shook his head. "I just... I guess I just knew it wasn't something I needed to not tell you. If that makes any sense?"

Joe smiled. "Yeah, it does. It's all about trust."

"Mm... I trust you," Levon said as he lay back down. He closed his eyes. "Trust you to let me go back to sleep?" he added in a hopeful tone.

"Is this your way of trying to con me into taking care of Fooler this morning?" Joe teased.

"Who, me?" Levon said in an almost-asleep voice.

"Is there somebody else in this bed I could be speaking to?"

"Mm-mmm," came the answer.

Smiling fondly at his drowsing husband, Joe capitulated. "Okay," he said softly, dropping a kiss on top of Levon's head. "But just this once. And you still have to get up in an hour."

"Wha for?" came an even sleepier question as Levon re-settled himself to take advantage of sleeping in.

"Otherwise you'll be explaining to Joanne why we're late."

"Okay," was the last thing he heard before Levon stopped moving all together.

Shaking his head, Joe got dressed and started to head out to the barn to take care of Levon's horse when the phone began ringing again.

"Maybe I should forget the alarm clock and just shoot the phone," Joe muttered as he answered it. "LaFiamma!"

"Joe?" The lieutenant sounded taken-aback.

Yelling at the boss first thing in the morning. Brilliant move. "Uh yeah Lieutenant," Joe replied, wincing. "Sorry, was in the middle of... something. What's up?"

He heard her smothered laugh. "Sorry, Joe. But you have a ten o'clock flight and I thought you'd want to be on it."

"Whoa, wait a sec, back up. Flight? Where?"

"To Washington. We figured out where Harper is. You two are going after him."

Levon was stirring, propping himself up and staring at him with wide eyes.

Joe stared back, mind going a mile a minute. He knew how Levon felt about flying. He still couldn't believe that his partner had managed to get on the plane to Chicago with him last year. "That might not be such a great idea..." he told the Lieutenant, fumbling for a legitimate reason for refusing.

"I'm sorry, LaFiamma. The topic isn't open for discussion. The chief says you two are going, so you're going."

"What isn't a good idea?" Levon whispered. "What flight?"

"Joanne wants us to fly to Washington to go get Harper," Joe told him, then turned back to the phone call. "Is that state or D.C., Lieutenant?"

"State. Cascade, Washington. Look, your tickets will be waiting for you at the United counter. You're booked into the Holiday Inn on Claremont Street. If you need anything, call me."

"Yeah. Bye," Joe said absently, his concentration already returning to his partner as he hung up the phone. "Levon?"

"Yeah?" Levon asked warily.

"You okay with this?" He reached out and laid a hand on Levon's shoulder, wondering what he could possibly do if Levon said 'no'.

Levon just looked at him for a moment. Then, "If we got to go, there's not much we can do is there?" He looked worried... then he looked curious. "Where in Washington?"

"Cascade," Joe answered, relaxing slightly. If Levon could get curious, things were probably going to be all right.

Levon grinned, quite unexpectedly. "That's fine. Cascade ain't in anybody's territory. Besides, I've a relative up that way."

Joe's eyebrows rose in surprise. Then he grew cautious. "Exile?"

"Nah. She just headed out on her own."

"So that's not likely to be a problem."

Levon shook his head. "Only problem I have is getting on the damn plane in the first place. Once I get off, I'll be fine." His grin told Joe he didn't mean that simply literally.

Joe grinned back. "We'll end up joining the mile high club yet." Levon scooted up and gave him a kiss. Reluctantly, Joe pulled back after a few seconds. "Come on, we better get ready. You wanna pack or phone Jesse about the cats?"

Levon pushed himself up, and climbed out of bed. "Neither. Fooler needs to be fed and I need to answer a call of nature." He gave Joe a cheerful grin as he headed for the door.

"Lucky I woke you up then!" Joe called after him, before turning to the task of packing for them both.

All he heard in reply was Levon's laughter.

"Are you pulling my leg?" Jim stared at his partner, all thought of pursuing the young prostitutes momentarily vanished. He wasn't sure yet if Blair was joking or had hit his head recently. Or... no, those had to be the only two possibilities.

"Do I look like I'm pulling your leg?" Blair shot back. Jim had to admit he didn't. In fact, he could only think of a handful of times when Blair had looked as serious as he did now.

But still...

"Centaurs, huh?" He turned to look down the street where the girls had disappeared. "They looked pretty human to me."

Blair shrugged. "That's because they were in human form. They're not about to go running around downtown Cascade on four hooves after all."

"Oh. That makes sense." Jim decided it must be a head injury. Or someone had slipped his partner something while he hadn't been around - - a hallucinogen of some sort. He'd have to stay calm, get Blair to a hospital before hunting the perp down and tearing him apart.

With any luck it would be Roffman.

Blair meanwhile was staring intently at him. "You don't believe me," he accused.

He looked back at Blair calmly. "Of course, Blair. If you say there's centaurs... who am I to argue with you?" Drugs, that had to be it. He couldn't recall any opportunities for Blair to have been drugged, though. Unless it had been through contact, something he'd touched... Jim began to replay their entire day, as he herded Blair back towards the truck.

Violently pulling his arm out of Jim's grip, Blair dug his heels in and refused to move. "I'm not hallucinating, Jim! Stop patronizing me!"

Jim stopped, sighing, and turned back to his partner. "I'm not... okay, I am, " he admitted as Blair glared at him. "But come on, Chief. Centaurs? You have to admit that's a little hard to believe."

"Any harder than a guy with hyperactive senses and a spirit panther that only he can see?"

Jim frowned. Blair really didn't fight fair. "I only believe that because I've seen them. How am I supposed to believe that those four girls are really centaurs?"

Blair caught and held Jim's gaze with his own. "Because I tell you it's true," he said seriously.

Really didn't fight fair. Jim tried one last time to think of a good way to convince his partner that he couldn't possibly be telling the truth.

Blair waited, staring at him the way he always did when he was trying to tell Jim something important.

He sighed. "All right, Sandburg. All right so they're centaurs. But you've got a lot of explaining for this one...."

The megawatt smile he got in return was almost payment enough for his belief. "I'll tell you everything I know but later. We have to rescue the fil- girls first before Roffman finds out what they are. I'd hate to see what that slimeball would do with them then."

"What do you suggest? Tracking down the girls?" There was no sign of them at all, in the area. They were long gone.

Maybe Blair was right.

Blair considered, then shook his head. "They might be hard to find if they've gone to ground. We'd probably have better luck tackling the problem at the other end." He grinned wolfishly. "Roffman."

Jim returned the smile. "Let's go, then. Maybe we can disturb him during peak business hours."

They headed back to the truck. Halfway there Jim glanced over. "Chief? How exactly do you know they're centaurs?"

The younger man paused and didn't look at Jim when he answered. "They're not the first centaurs I've met."

Jim stopped. He stared for a second, then realized, "Naomi?"

For a brief second Blair stiffened and paled. Then, before Jim could react, he shook himself and gave a little laugh. "Who else, man?"

"I figured. Leave it to her to find -- and introduce you to -- any number of unusual people." Jim chose to ignore his partner's initial reaction. Either it would make sense later or it wouldn't. In either case it involved Naomi, so it couldn't be all bad... even if he wanted to disapprove.

Blair laughed again. "You don't know the half of it!" Then he sobered. "I promise, Jim, I'll tell you everything when this is over. After the girls are safe. Just trust me until then?"

"I trust you, Chief," he assured his mate. He clapped Blair lightly on the shoulder, and they continued on their way.

The confrontation with Roffman went much the way Jim would've predicted. They exchanged sneers, insults and threats, and learned absolutely nothing. The one thing Jim hadn't anticipated was literally having to physically hold Blair back from attacking the man.

He hauled his partner back to the truck, and watched him simmering for the entire drive home. When they pulled up to their building, Blair leapt out, slammed the door shut, and began pacing.

"Blair?" Jim came around the truck and let his partner nearly collide with him.

"That guy is such a slimeball!" Blair yelled, continuing to pace, detouring around Jim to do so. "He just makes me want to- to-"

Jim merely turned, keeping an eye on his partner. "Rip his lungs out? Throw him into a wall? Give him a low grade?"

"Kick his nose in and do a tap dance on his face!" Blair reached the end of the truck and turned, pacing back the other way.

"Maybe run him over with the Volvo? Give him a parking ticket?" Jim found this rather amusing. He'd never seen Blair quite so overwrought before, but as long as he simply paced and yelled, there was no harm.

As long as he calmed down eventually.

"Maybe use him as a parking spot!" Blair countered, turning and making another circuit. He wasn't slowing down. If anything, his movements were getting faster and more frantic.

With a resigned sigh, Jim realized this wasn't going to work. Blair would just get himself so worked up that he'd give himself a heart attack or something. He grabbed Blair's arm and dragged him towards the stairs.

When Blair realized where he was being dragged, he dug in his heels. "No, Jim, I can't go upstairs, can't go inside right now, can't..." Pulling his arm free of Jim's grip he turned and leaned against the building, his body trembling as he visibly tried to calm himself down.

Jim stopped. "Blair? What's wrong?" This wasn't normal. He reached out and took Blair by the shoulders. "Relax, Chief. We'll get them away from Roffman.... just take it easy."

Blair nodded, leaning his forehead against Jim's chest as he hyperventilated.

Jim was getting worried. He'd never seen Blair like this -- even when he was upset or excited, he never got this out of control. He tried to think of some of Blair's meditative techniques, and blanked.

So he did the only thing he could think of. He gave Blair a long, deep, kiss.

His lover responded like he was on fire: returning the kiss with all the heat and passion he was capable of, his body pressing as close to Jim's as it could possibly get. While he certainly didn't object, it did nothing to allay Jim's concerns. He continued with the kiss, then broke it and tried to maneuver them both inside the building.

This time Blair not only didn't object but ended up dragging Jim up to their apartment, only letting the Sentinel go when they reached their front door to dig in his pocket for his keys. Jim decided he might as well go with it -- having what promised to be mind-blowing sex was better than Blair getting so mad he broke something. Like his own hand.

He managed to shut and lock the door behind them, and then let Blair drag him over to the couch where he soon found himself stripped naked, with an equally naked Blair on top of him.

That was his last coherent thought for a while as his lover took complete control and played his body like a virtuoso playing a violin. He wasn't exactly sure what Blair did -- and he didn't care. All Jim knew was that his senses exploded, rhythmically, one after another as Blair assaulted his entire being with pleasure.

Once he tried to move, to sit up and take control, but Blair knocked him back and he was left to lie there, panting and screaming his lover's name.

Blair teased and tortured him, bringing him to the brink again and again but never letting him go over.

At one point he paused and Jim's eyes flew open, his brain getting in gear enough to track his lover. He hadn't gone far, just to the bathroom to retrieve a tube of lube. Jim took one look at the smoldering, possessive expression on Blair's face as he returned and promptly forgot how to think again.

He let himself be moved into position, at one point bracing himself with one hand to let his lover make him ready. Then he was flying, grounded only by the touch of his lover's body. He heard somebody shouting and was only dimly aware that it was his own voice, all the rest of his being totally focused on the pounding that Blair was giving him.

He couldn't be sure that Blair was making any noise at all -- he couldn't hear anything over the din in his own head. He reached out and gripped something, not sure what, but it was warm, hard, and moving.

Then Blair's hand closed over his erection and the world exploded. At least that's what he was able to recollect about it, much later when his brain starting processing the information it was receiving.

He tried to move, opened his eyes, and found himself more or less stuck. A hundred and fifty pounds of Guide was slumped bonelessly on top of him, pinning him in place. He grinned and wrapped an arm around his lover. At least he was no longer bouncing all over the place, plotting mortal harm to Roffman.

For nearly two minutes he rested quietly, enjoying the peace. Then the cold, sticky, drying sensation got to him and he gave Blair a gentle shove. Blair mumbled incoherently and buried his face more firmly into Jim's neck.

With a heave, Jim managed to get himself out from under his unconscious lover. Leaving him sprawled on the couch, Jim went to the bathroom and got cleaned up. Then he went back, wiped Blair clean and dry, and then laid back down on the couch, sliding back underneath his lover as best as he could.

"You moved," a sleep filled voice accused even as arms tightened around Jim's torso.

"I had to. Sorry," he whispered, kissing the temple nearest his mouth.

"S'okay." One blue eye opened and regarded him closely. "You okay?"

Jim grinned. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay?"

Blair sighed. "Yeah. Now." He propped himself up on one elbow. "I suppose you want an explanation for that, huh?"

Jim gave him another kiss, this time on the forearm. "You don't have to, Chief."

His lover stared at him seriously for a long moment. "Yeah," he finally said. "I think I do."

Jim nodded. "All right, then." He changed his grip on his lover, wrapping both arms firmly around Blair's torso to hold them together and waited patiently for Blair to find a place to begin.

"You wanted to know how I knew about centaurs..."

Jim turned his attention fully onto his partner. Mostly fully -- he didn't want to zone out, so he let himself feel the vibrations in the couch, from the floor, from the rattling of the building from the traffic outside.

Blair took a few moments to re-center himself then started again. "You wanted to know how I knew about centaurs and I told you it was because I had met some before. That much is true. But there's more to it..."

Jim gave his lover a gentle squeeze to encourage him. Blair looked serious and worried, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

"I don't just know some centaurs," Blair said, avoiding meeting Jim's eyes as he spoke, "I'm related to them."

"Related how?" he asked carefully. He had a feeling he was going to have to be very understanding and very accepting. He told himself he could not react with any amount of disbelief, not matter what Blair said.

"My mom," Blair mumbled. If Jim hadn't been a sentinel it would've been inaudible.

"Naomi?" Just to make sure he had this right.

Blair nodded, still not meeting Jim's eyes.

"Is she... you're telling me she's a centaur? That you're--" he stopped. The funny thing was, he believed it. He didn't understand it, not for a second.

But he believed it.

"Yeah. I'm only half though."

"Oh. So what does that mean?" He was only barely aware of what he was asking. What did it mean to be a full centaur? Half-man, half-horse - - was Blair then a quarterhorse? Jim blinked and tried to re-focus.

"It means I can't do the things full blooded centaurs do as easily, like switch between forms. But it also means I don't have the drawbacks of being a centaur as much either," Blair explained matter- of-factly. He could've just been answering another obscure anthropological question if it wasn't for the fact he still wouldn't look at Jim.

Jim nudged at him with his shoulder. "Hey."

Reluctantly Blair looked up.

"I love you."

The words seemed to open the floodgates on Blair's mouth. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this sooner, Jim. I mean I know I should've -- this is a really big secret to be keeping from someone I'm hoping to spend the rest of my life with -- which I am, hoping I mean -- but it's just so out there, I didn't know how to tell you. I couldn't very well just blurt it out over dinner: 'Hey Jim, pass the salt and by the way my mother is a centaur.' You would've thought I was nuts if you didn't think I was joking. And I admit I was scared -- I wasn't sure you'd be able to accept me even if you believed me-"

Jim didn't try to interrupt. Not verbally, anyhow. He put a finger on Blair's lips and held it there, gently. "OK, so you've told me. I'm cool with it. Now... what do we do? You want to tell me if this changes anything? Or do we go get some sleep, and try to track down those fillies tomorrow?"

Blair stared at him a long moment, then shrugged with a half-smile, though his eyes were still a bit wary. "I guess it's up to you whether this changes anything, Jim."

He thought it over. This wasn't something he could just shrug off and say 'fine' and not let it change anything. But he did know that if it changed things for the worse, it would mean hurting Blair.

That wasn't even an option.

"Blair... I think I'd like you to tell me everything you can about this - all I know about centaurs is what I read in mythology books in fourth grade. But it doesn't change anything, not about you and me. It doesn't change any of the important stuff."

"You sure?"

"Of course. What am I supposed to do? Freak out and tell you I can't live with you anymore? I'd have an easier time ripping my own heart out." Jim shook his head. "I'm not saying I'm going to get used to this overnight. I'm just saying... it doesn't change anything." Maybe, Jim realized, it was a good thing he was so tired and still feeling so good. Some part of his brain was telling him that when he woke up, this conversation was going to look a lot different.

Blair seemed to go completely limp with relief at Jim's words. "Thanks, man," he said quietly, and, "I love you, Jim."

Jim hugged him tightly.

The phone rang.

Jim groaned, but picked it up. "Ellison."

Simon Banks' voice destroyed any hope of it being a telemarketer he could hang up on. "The detectives from Houston who've been working the Harper case down there are flying into Cascade tomorrow to coordinate the search. I want you and Sandburg to pick them up at the airport when they arrive, since you'll be the ones working with them."

Jim groaned, closing his eyes. But he said, "Yes, sir."

Simon's tone softened as he continued. "I know it's a pain in the butt, Jim, but I can't do anything about it. Orders from above. Just try not to create an interdepartmental incident, okay?"

"Me, sir?"

The only answer he got was an eloquent silence.

Jim sighed. "Fine. We'll pick them up." He looked over at Blair, saw blue focused back on him. It was a wonderful, deep, loving shade of blue. He could see the flecks of gray and the slight dilation of the iris....

Only to startle back to reality as Blair took the phone out of his hand and hung it up. Turning back to Jim, he gave the Sentinel a look that was equal parts fond exasperation, amusement and worry. "You don't usually zone out on Simon's phone calls."

Jim grinned. He reached out and traced the curve of Blair's face, beside his right eye. Then he told Blair about the visitors.

Blair groaned. "That's all we need. Between trying to hide your senses and them trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing being your partner to begin with, we're gonna waste a lot of time."

Jim shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it now. Let's just hope they aren't as much trouble as visiting cops usually are."

"I guess."

"So..." Jim considered his lover again. Lying there, warm and cuddled, it was hard to recall that he'd just accepted that Blair was a mythological creature. Half of one, he corrected himself.

"Blair? You want to tell me a little bit about this centaur business now?" He kept his tone carefully concerned and agreeable, and kept his gaze right on Blair's eyes.

Such wonderful blue eyes.

Jim blinked.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah sure." Blair sat up, running his hands through his hair to try and tame it a little. He seemed to take on his teacher pose. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Jim sat up as well, missing the warmth of his lover's body. He settled back against the arm of the couch and stretched his legs so he was still touching his lover. "I don't know, Blair. This is all new to me. You said something about being able to change form?"

"Yeah." He paused and then asked almost shyly, "Want me to demonstrate?"

"You...." Well, obviously he could, if he were offering to demonstrate. "Will the floor be strong enough? I don't want you crashing into the Perkinson's living room."

Blair laughed. "I'm a centaur, not an elephant, Jim."

He stood up and moved to the middle of the living room, then turned and looked back at Jim uncertainly. "You sure about this? I mean, it's one thing for me to tell you I'm not entirely human, it's another to see it..."

Jim nodded. "I want to see."

His lover took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay." Closing his eyes, he warned, "This isn't as easy for me as if I was full-blooded so don't interrupt me until I'm done. It... hurts to get stuck mid-transition."

Jim was on his feet, about to protest -- if this was dangerous or painful then he wasn't about to let Blair do it. But Blair was already... changing.

He stared. Blair, naked, human Blair, was slowly.... Jim blinked. He had seen it but he wasn't sure he could describe it.

There was now a centaur in the living room with Blair's upper body and a horse's --chestnut in color-- lower body.

Blair opened his eyes and turned to give his new body the once-over. "I'm always afraid I'm going to forget something," he explained with a half-embarrassed shrug and a swish of his tail. Turning back to Jim, he fidgeted a little under the sentinel's wide-eyed stare. "So, what do you think?" he asked self-consciously.

Jim walked forward. His sentinel senses were telling him very confusing, contradictory things. There was a horse -- a centaur, here in the loft. He could smell it, see it, hear its heartbeat. Occupying the same space as his Guide....

He reached out and touched Blair's back, cautiously. He watched as the tail swished again.

He stared up -- up! -- at Blair.

And smiled.

Blair relaxed then, his face lighting up as he smiled in return. He reached out and ran a finger down the side of Jim's face. "I've wanted to show you this for a long time," he confided, blue eyes luminous with love.

It was hard to believe. Hard to reconcile the conflicting evidence his senses were giving him. His Guide. Something not human... he turned and ran his hand down along the side of the horse's body. He could feel and hear the heartbeat. It was the same rhythm as Blair's, only louder, stronger.

The scent was Blair, and it wasn't. It was both Blair and something else.

"Jim?" Blair asked after a moment, his nervousness obviously returning the longer Jim remained silent.

Jim ran his hands down one of the legs. Strong. He could feel the muscles jumping lightly beneath his touch. The coat was soft, and clean. He continued running his hands down, lifted the hoof gently. Touched the smooth, hard exterior and briefly the frog underneath.

Blair had twisted around limberly to try to keep an eye on his lover's expression as he explored. "Not thinking of shoeing me, are you?" he asked half-jokingly as Jim continued to look at his hoof.

"Mmm," Jim said, still focusing on the creature -- on Blair. Blair's body. He stood up and felt the length of Blair's back, rubbing lightly along the spine, and across the withers.

Moving around behind, he placed the palm of his hand on the top of the tail. He did the same, up the other side, touching, looking, smelling.

"Going to check my teeth next?"

Jim stood in front of Blair, hands on Blair's waist where the skin and coat came together. He let his hands tell him what his senses were trying to understand.

Blair was this creature. This combination, this... Centaur.

He blinked. "It's still you." For all the differences, for everything that was new -- his senses still insisted this was his Guide. His lover.

Horse body and all.

Jim shook his head, amazed.

Blair smiled and reached out, laying his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Who were you expecting it to be?" he teased gently. The nervousness in him had disappeared when he'd figured out what Jim had been doing.

Jim shook his head. "There's... two of you now. Everything I had memorized, and now... this. But it's still you. And it isn't." He didn't think he was making sense.

"I'm still me, Jim, Blair told him, suddenly very serious. "In all the ways that matter. Just because I have a couple of extra legs and a tail and," he grinned briefly, "a bit more height doesn't change who I am. Or what I am. Your Guide."

Jim nodded. He was still absorbing the information, senses still trying to discern what was Blair, what was not, while his mind tried to order it all. He touched Blair's face. "This is...."

"Amazing? Unbelievable? Weird?"

"Different."

Blair grinned. "So what else is new? We aren't exactly normal even if you ignore my heritage."

Returning the grin, Jim suddenly felt better. The images in his mind had coalesced, telling him this was still Blair. He pulled on Blair slightly, urging him down for a kiss. Blair complied willingly, giving a happy sigh when they parted.

Calm and back in control, Jim stepped back and surveyed his partner. "How long can you stay like this?"

"There's no time limit," Blair replied with a shrug. "I've stayed in this form for weeks when I was little and Mom took me to visit her old herd." He added in a quieter tone, "It was easier than risk having some of the other colts laugh at how long it took me to change."

"I guess kids are the same no matter what their species." Jim rubbed at Blair's cheek. Then he blinked. "Herd? You mean there're more...? How many centaurs are there?"

"Lots more. Probably at least a couple of thousand in the U.S alone. Don't know for sure."

"Huh. Is this why you don't have a birth certificate? A real one, that is?"

"I have a birth certificate!" Blair objected. "Just because I wasn't born in a hospital..."

"Calm down, Chief." He brushed his hand down Blair's chest. A thought occurred to him and he hesitantly asked, "You're not... when you're in this form you're not..." he forced himself to continued, in a rush, "You're not invisible in this form are you? Unlike some panthers I could name? People can see you?"

Blair laughed. "That would make life a hell of a lot easier, wouldn't it? No, I'm not invisible. Just irrepressibly cute!" He waggled his eyebrows at Jim.

Jim frowned. "I wouldn't go that far." He managed to hold the scowl for nearly two seconds before he caved.

"What else do you want to know?" Blair asked, absently running a hand through Jim's short hair.

"I don't know, Blair. What else is there? What else has changed?" He grinned suddenly, and leaned down to look.

"The phrase 'hung like a horse' taking on new meaning for you suddenly?" Blair asked innocently.

"Yeah." Jim blinked. He stood back up and repeated his question.

Blair considered. "I wouldn't say change exactly because a lot of these things you've already been aware of, you just didn't know the reasons behind them. Like my fear of heights. That's a centaur instinct. Though I don't have it as bad as full-blooded centaurs. A lot of them don't even feel comfortable higher than ground level."

"You okay now?" He looked at Blair sharply.

"Yeah. I only freak when I might have to jump out of something high -- like an airplane or a helicopter." He grinned. "And that doesn't necessarily stop me."

"I'll keep that in mind." Jim gave a laugh. "Next time we get kidnapped. So what else?" he asked after a moment. "Afraid of heights, extra legs... can you carry a rider?"

"Yep. I haven't very often though. Hell, I've spent hardly any time in this form at all in recent years." He looked at Jim speculatively. "If we could find a safe place, would you like to go for a ride sometime?"

"I know a place." Ten miles outside of Cascade, a friend of his owned a ranch. Jim had a standing invitation to visit anytime, but he never had had a reason to. But thirty acres of private, clear land and a friend who knew how to stay out of the way when asked were just what they needed.

Blair's smile was dazzling. "You do? Cool! It's a date then. When this is over."

"A date, huh? We'll have to make a day of it then."

"Definitely." Blair was silent for a moment, forehead creased in thought. "I'm trying to think of any other things I should tell you, that may be important," he explained. "Centaurs are different from humans physically in some ways." He caught Jim's dubious look. "I mean besides the obvious."

"I figured... your heart is beating from here," Jim placed his hand back down onto Blair's body, near where his heart now was. He didn't want to think about how it had moved, or why there was a faint echo of the heart in Blair's chest.

Blair nodded. "Centaur anatomy is a bitch to learn. I prefer not to think about it too much. Gives me a headache. Anyway, one way centaurs differ from humans is that they can't vomit. They can die from colic like horses can if they're not careful. I'm a little different again, in that in human form I can vomit." He grinned at Jim. "As you well know from the last time I had the flu."

Grimacing, Jim nodded. "Remind me never to let you get the flu again. But colic? How can you get colic? Or is that only when you're in this form?"

"For me, yeah. And in my case, the cure would probably be as simple as switching back to human form where human urges would take over and I'd be fine. Full centaurs don't have that option though. Even in human form they still have the centaur drawbacks."

"So basically while you're a centaur, you react like a centaur, and when you're human you react more like a human but not completely."

Blair considered. "Yeah, more or less."

"Right. Does this mean we should get you fitted for a saddle before we head out to Adam's place?"

That earned him a glare. "No way, man, am I wearing a saddle. I'm not a horse."

"Just asking, Chief. If you don't need shoes, and don't need a saddle... what do you need?"

"You?"

"You got me, lover." Jim drew Blair down again and kissed him.