I Alone

Jim stared at Simon in disbelief. His captain - his friend -- looked away, embarrassed.

"They what?" he kept his voice low, didn't shout. That showed more control than he'd thought he had.

Still not looking at him, Simon answered.

"They chose William Schuller to head up the task force."

{Be calm. Calm.} Jim breathed slowly, evenly, resisting the fierce urge to hit something.

"Schuller's not even close to my qualifications."

Simon's shrug reminded him how much he hated that gesture.

The captain sat, opened a file, and began to read it.

"Schuller's heading up the task force." he said it with finality.

Jim stood stock-still, trying to process this blow. He knew he was the best qualified for the position. The task force was being set up to pull a sting on a money-laundering group that had taken up shop in Cascade. Jim had the most undercover experience, and he'd run successful forces before.

Schuller'd never even done one.

When he finally spoke, it was quiet as he found understanding.

"So this is the way it starts."

Simon looked up sharply.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"First the task force. Then the lieutenant exam - I guess I can assume I won't be allowed to take it this year. What comes after that? Desk duty?"

He watched the play of emotions on Simon's face almost dispassionately. Not normally an expressive man, the captain was obviously more upset about this than he wanted to let on.

He clasped his hands on the folder and met Jim's eyes.

"I did my best, Jim."

"I knew it was coming." Jim nodded, forgiving him. "I thought my experience - my record - would be enough to keep it from going this way."

"He wants you on the force." Simon added a second blow. "You *and* Sandburg."

"Yes, sir." Jim's face froze. "We'll be there."

"I can get you out of it."

"No, sir."

"Jim - you don't have to do this. Why put yourself - put the kid - through this?"

"We'll be there." Jim repeated. "Is that all, sir?"

"Jim..." Simon began to protest again, gave it up. "You'll report to Schuller the day after tomorrow. Take the rest of the day, spend tomorrow with the kid."

Jim allowed a small smile to surface.

"Yes, sir." he replied, and it wasn't hard this time.

 

Blair walked through the door, laden with books and backpack and *stuff*. Jim hopped up from the couch with a smile, reaching to relieve some the burden, wondering privately just where he got all this stuff, and exactly what he did with it.

Getting everything where it needed to go, Blair sat on the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"I'm beat. Good thing it's your turn to cook."

"It's in the oven." Jim sat beside him, copied his posture, throwing an arm around his shoulders casually. Blair leaned into his side, sighing.

"Man, I'm glad you're home. I thought you'd be gone all night, starting up the task force. I was gonna come help you."

"I'm not heading up the task force, Baby." it was surprisingly easy to say, with Blair here beside him. He wrapped the other arm around him and pulled him closer, hugging him tight, burying his face in the soft hair.

Blair hugged back, and Jim heard his heart thump-and-roll.

"I'm sorry." the whisper was pitched for his ears only.

"It's okay." he replied. And now it was. His heart knew what was really important.

"I knew something like this would happen." Blair sat back, pushing his hair out of his eyes, moving out of Jim's arms. Jim let him go, knowing he needed space to think.

"I think it's the publicity thing." Jim said. "If this is as big as we think it is, there'll be alot of press coverage."

"And they don't want a gay cop representing them." Blair sighed again. "This sucks."

"They can only keep me down so long, Chief. Eventually my record will have to be noticed and they'll have to give me what I've earned."

"How long is eventually?" Blair tried a smile but it faded quickly. He wiped his hands on his flannel shirt -- unbuttoned because of the heat, blue t-shirt beneath it -- and rested them high on his thighs, drawing Jim's eyes there. "It might never come, Jim. Or come too late. Before me, you had a chance at captain... maybe even chief. What are you gonna get now?"

"Hopefully a long backrub and some mind-blowing sex." still staring at Blair's crotch, Jim saw the reaction to his words.

"Jim, I'm serious."

"So'm I, Baby. Dinner has another thirty minutes. Wanna fool around on the couch?"

Blair frowned, furrows creasing his pretty face.

"Actually, I've got a shitload of work...can I take a raincheck for tonight?"

Jim reined in his disappointment and nodded, pushing himself up. "I'm going to run some laundry, then."

Blair was already pulling out his glasses and digging into his backpack for the laptop. He spoke without even looking up.

"Would you throw in my blue sweats with yours, please? I forgot them last time."

"Sure, Chief." Jim answered, turning away. He knew it was petty, but he hated it when Blair tuned him out like that. It was like he went into this other little world where Jim wasn't welcome. Where he'd be lost.

 

The rest of the night went much the same way. Blair ate with his book open in front of him, barely responding to Jim's comments, until Jim gave up. They sat on the couch and Blair wouldn't snuggle, instead he surrounded himself with books and papers that left Jim very little room.

Jim clicked off the TV.

"I'm going to bed." he stood, looking down at Blair, still typing, glancing from book to paper to keyboard. "You coming?"

"Uh, later, Big Guy. I promised myself I'd get these notes sorted out. I've got a meeting with my advisor next week and he's going to want to see some progress."

"That's about Sentinels?"

"Yeah. Dissertation stuff." now Blair looked up at him, worried. "That's still okay?"

"Sure." Jim said reluctantly. "You're not putting in anything about us...are you?"

"That wouldn't exactly be scientific, Jim." Blair's sudden grin was reassuring. "I can just see trying to explain it to Dr.Hoffman."

"Yeah." Jim's laugh was forced. The whole dissertation thing sometimes made him uncomfortable - like a bug under a microscope. "Goodnight, then."

"Night." Blair went back to work without another word. Jim paused on the stairs to look down at him.

"I love you." he whispered. But, of course, Blair didn't hear it.

 

Crawling into the big bed after three am, Blair stifled a groan. He had to be up early, he'd promised another T.A. a ride in the morning, and she lived on the other side of town.

Jim turned over as soon as he lay back, reaching for him and pulling him close.

"Mmmm." the big man snugged them tight together, Blair turning in his arms to lay his head on his chest. "What time is it?"

"Three-thirty." Blair rounded it off.

"Damn. Good thing I don't have to go in tomorrow."

"I do." Blair shivered slightly as Jim's hands began wandering, stroking his bare chest, playing with the silver rings that turned him on so much. He lowered his head to suck on the nipple ring and Blair moaned, pleasure and resignation. "That feels so good...."

Jim's answer was to hum against him as he worked his way lower, gradually pushing Blair over onto his back, working his tight boxers off, finally taking his cock in his mouth as Blair thrust upwards, hands clenched in the sheets.

"Jim...Jim...let me...I need to..." he panted as his lover teased, bringing him close and backing off again, using his senses to track Blair's arousal, knowing just when to stop.

When Jim finally released him, reached past him, Blair rolled over willingly, legs spread, arms above his head, ready.

"unhhh." he groaned quietly when Jim entered him, lying still, absorbing the feeling of being part of another person. Part of his Sentinel.

He'd never felt like this with anyone else. Never.

Jim took his time, stroking and petting Blair, telling him with his hands and body how much he was loved, how Jim wanted him.

It was unusually quiet for them. Jim wondered when Blair didn't talk, didn't moan, just panted and groaned occasionally, but decided that he liked the change, so kept quiet himself. When he finally let Blair come the younger man shuddered for long minutes, then just lay there.

Jim came seconds after, and dropped his weight onto Blair's body, covering him fully, his hands sliding down Blair's arms to twine their fingers together.

"I love you, Baby." he whispered.

"You know I love you, Jim." there was something about Blair's voice, but Jim couldn't place it.

{He's tired and I kept him up.} he thought, feeling guilty, sliding out and over, cuddling Blair close, feeling his breathing already settling into sleep. {He wants to please me so badly.} Jim sighed into Blair's hair. He'd only recently began to realize the enormity of the commitment Blair had made to him. When he said he'd do anything for Jim, he truly meant it.

 

"Didn't think you'd have the balls to show, Ellison." Schuller smirked as Jim walked into the conference room. "Where's the *baby*?" he leered.

"Teaching. It's his *job*." Jim stressed the last word. He didn't care what they said to him, but they were going to leave Blair alone.

"Too bad." Sigowski spoke from the corner of the room, where a computer center had been set up. "I could use his help configuring these search parameters."

Jim didn't know if he should be grateful or pissed. He settled for answering the man neutrally. He could be an ally, or maybe it was just a reaction to Schuller's meanness and he didn't really give a shit about Blair.

"He'll be here around one."

"No sneaking out for lunch nooky, Ellison. The kid has to be able to sit down for this."

"That was clever, Schuller. I'm surprised you came up with it." Jim sat, reaching for the first stack of files that had to be gone through. "These the bank records?"

Schuller looked pissed, but blew it off.

"Yeah. They're *your* job." he sneered. "I gotta go see about arms."

Jim thought it was too soon for that, but kept his mouth shut. If Schuller was going to screw this up, he'd do it without Jim's help.

But if it got screwed up, there was a pretty good chance he and Blair would get blamed.

So he'd have to bail Schuller's ass out if he fucked up.

*Damn*.

 

The conference room wasn't that big and it was getting crowded. Blair opened the door and stopped, eyes widening just a little.

Schuller had half the SWAT team weapons laid out on the table, debating the merits of each piece with -- Blair swallowed hard -- *Hall*. Jim was way down on the other end, surrounded by stacks of files. He seemed to be reading quietly, but Blair knew he'd heard him coming, could hear his heart thundering now.

Taking a deep breath, Blair swung his backpack to his chest defensively and stepped in, closing the door.

"Sandburg." Schuller looked up. "You're late."

"Huh?" Blair was startled into looking at him.

"Even *observers* have to be here on time."

"It's not like I have a schedule." Blair kept his voice even.

"You want to work under me -" Schuller sneered "- you'll tell me when you're gonna be here and you'll be on time."

"My schedule isn't that predictable..." Blair began to protest, then just shut his mouth. "Okay."

"Go work on the computers." Schuller turned his back on him. Hall grinned over his shoulder.

Passing Jim, Blair resisted the urge to lean in, just for a whisper or a touch. But he could and did whisper to him, at Jim's level.

"It's okay. It'll be okay."

Jim nodded as he read and Blair joined Sigowski.

 

Blair sighed and shifted in his seat. The chair was wooden and hard. His back hurt from being in the same position for too long, but he didn't want to get up and walk around, afraid of drawing attention to himself.

They had sent somebody out for food an hour ago, getting everybody the same thing. Blair had taken one look at the greasy burger and fries and handed them over to Jim without a word. Some of the guys had laughed at that. Jim took them reluctantly, but ate them.

"Sorry it's not to your taste." Schuller had said with great insincerity. Blair had seen Jim tense.

A little while ago Sigowski had come in with coffee. Blair had been tremendously grateful when the taller blond man had handed him a plain cup of tea, with a guarded look.

It was almost two. He had to teach in the morning.

The search was running itself -- he figured it was at least a two-hour job. He could sit here and watch it, or find something else to do. Sighing, he dug into his backpack and pulled out a textbook and notepad. Soon he was engrossed in a favorite subject - American Indian tribal cultures.

"What do you think you're doing?" the harsh voice just behind his ear made him jump.

He looked up and around the room quickly. Jim was nowhere in sight.

"He had to run paperwork. You're on your own." the words came cold from the man's mouth. "Get your ass back to work -- there ain't no playtime here."

"I'm writing a lecture. For a class I have to teach." he knew better than to think the man would be reasonable.

"Tough shit. Do it on your own time." Schuller cuffed him lightly on the side of the head, not hard enough to hurt, just to embarrass.

Feeling the eyes on him, Blair lowered his head and quietly continued his work, one finger pushing his glasses back up.

"I said *get to work*." Schuller snarled.

"There's nothing else to do." Sigowski came from the other side of the room. "He set up the search and now it has to run."

"That's all there is to it?" Hall mocked. "Shit, I coulda done that."

Sigowski and Schuller loomed over him. Blair was finding it hard to breathe. He shifted uncomfortably in the chair again.

Schuller noticed the movement and sneered.

"You *sore*, little faggot? I'd better tell Ellison not to use you so hard when you've gotta work."

Blair flushed beet red, his hands tightening on the book.

"Maybe we could get him a cushion." Blair didn't know who had spoken and he wasn't going to turn around to find out.

{If I ignore him, he'll quit.} he knew that wasn't entirely true, but Jim had to come back sometime...the door opened and Jim was there. Blair looked up, saw the anger on his face, knew he'd been listening as he approached.

Schuller stepped back, giving Jim an 'I-dare-you' look.

"I think we should call it quits for tonight, guys." he said in a falsely jovial tone. "The *kid* is getting tired."

Blair stood, eager to get out of there. As he was stuffing things back into the pack he felt Jim's presence at his shoulder.

"Go away." he whispered. "Meet me outside."

He felt Jim tense, but his lover turned and walked away without a word.

"It's set to automatically save." Blair told Sigowski. "We'll start sorting the results tomorrow."

"One o'clock, *right*, Sandburg?" Schuller said loudly.

Blair met his eyes steadily.

"I have classes until four tomorrow."

"Well, then I guess we'll get started without our observer. What time *can* you be here?"

Factoring in library time and driving, Blair knew the man wasn't going to like his answer.

"Six."

"Okay. Everybody else be here at *eight am*." Schuller said it pointedly.

Blair watched Jim leave, stayed to talk to Sig for a few more minutes about the next search they should run, after this one narrowed their parameters.

He yawned in mid-sentence and looked around quickly, worried.

They were the only ones left in the room besides Schuller and Hall.

"You should be home in bed." Sig said quietly. "I'll walk you out."

Blair glanced at him, saw that he was trying to be kind.

"Thanks."

They went past the other two without a glance, but Blair heard their laughter as he shut the door.

"I don't want to talk about it." were his first words when he climbed into the truck, where Jim was waiting, worrying.

"You want to talk about everything." Jim protested, getting them on the road.

"Not this."

He remained silent the rest of the ride home. When they got there Jim gave him first shower and snuggled him close in bed, stroking his hair soothingly until the younger man slept, exhausted.

 

"Hey. Wait up!" Jim turned, hearing the unfamiliar voice, wondering if it was directed at him.

A young man in uniform was jogging through the parking lot to catch up with him. He stopped, not happy with the prospect of a confrontation.

"Yeah?"

"You're Detective Ellison, right? The gay one?"

Jim winced, but it wasn't worth explaining to this guy that he wasn't actually gay.

{Are you sure about that, Jim?}

"You could say that." He began walking again. The guy kept step with him.

"I wanted to ask you some advice."

Jim stopped again, looking at him suspiciously.

"Go on."

"I - uh, that is -" he flushed and looked at the ground to continue. His hands were clenched behind his back, his body vibrating with tension.

{There's something funny going on here.} Jim felt distinctly uncomfortable.

"My girlfriend." he blurted out. "We want to try...uh, *you know*, and I thought you might, well, be able to tell me how to do it...without hurting her. She's not very big, smaller than your boyfriend..."

The words were so completely unexpected that Jim nearly staggered. His first reaction was rage and he went with it. Reaching out, he grabbed him by the shirtfront and dragged him to an inch away, to snarl into his face.

"Who put you up to this?!"

He wasn't fighting...he looked terrified. Jim released him with a shove, sending him sprawling on the oil-stained concrete with an exclamation of pain.

"Hey!" somebody shouted and Jim heard running feet. He turned on his heel and stormed into the building, going directly to Simon's office, not looking back once to see what was going on behind him.

 

"Hey! Can't you knock?" Simon protested when Jim stomped in, but the look on his face made him shut up. "What happened?"

"I just had some guy accost me in the parking lot and ask for advice on *anal sex*." Jim grimaced, not liking to say the words aloud.

"Did you give it to him?" Simon sat, picking up his coffee.

"What?" that got Jim's attention. He leaned over the desk, voice low and angry. "Did you hear what I just *said*?"

"Some guy asked you for advice on sex." Simon *couldn't* say the words. "Did you give it to him?" he repeated.

"Hell, no. I threw his ass on the ground."

"I'm sure that will play well with the troops."

"What was I supposed to do? Give him a play-by-play?"

The look Simon gave him was a startling combination of repulsion and curiosity. He held up a hand.

"Whatever you do, *don't* give me one."

Jim snapped his mouth shut, seeing his face, reading it.

"You could have directed him to the library, given him a phone number to call...told him it was personal. Not rough him up."

"Schuller put him up to this. I'm sure of it." Jim began pacing around the room. "He was too nervous."

"I'd be nervous if I was asking you that." that got a hard glare.

Jim slumped into a chair, dropping his head to his hands.

"You think I overreacted."

"You should have kept your cool."

"You don't know what it's been like, Simon. Schuller rides on Blair, teases him, mocks him...and I can't say a thing. He comes home every night exhausted, so tired that I haven't the heart to touch him...I'm afraid he's going to buckle under the strain."

Simon stood, unsure. He hadn't seen Jim this upset since his divorce - and that had been a *good* thing.

If it was anyone else he would go over and lay a hand on his shoulder, tell him it was going to be alright.

A few months ago he would have done that to Jim.

{I'm being ridiculous.} Simon told himself. }He's still the same old Jim.}

But he didn't take those steps. After a long pause Jim stood and stared at him, the soft blue eyes sad.

"I'm sorry sir. I won't bother you again." he left before Simon had a chance to object.

Jim sat at the table in the conference room, reading files, gathering the information, dreading Blair's arrival, a new pain growing in him.

He'd lost Simon. Possibly his best friend...Simon couldn't handle it any longer.

Now he and Blair were truly alone in hostile territory.

 

"Blair. Baby." Jim leaned over Blair's shoulder as the young man continued to type. "You're tired. Come to bed."

He pressed closer to his back, hands rubbing the narrow shoulders, nuzzling into the curly brown hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

Then he opened them and did it again.

Something was missing from Blair's scent.

Blair kept right on typing as Jim sniffed him and pondered.

{He doesn't smell like me anymore.} the realization shocked Jim. It frightened him. Had they been apart that much, that Blair would lose that residual trace of Jim's scent that he'd carried since they became lovers?

"Please, Baby." he snuffled down Blair's neck to mouth an earlobe, suddenly wanting him very badly. They hadn't made love since joining the task force. Blair was too tired, Jim didn't want to push him, worried as he was about his lover's emotional state. But now he was fiercely hungry for him. "Come to bed." it was a low throaty whisper into the ear he was tasting so gently.

Blair sighed and leaned back in the chair, just a bit, still working. Jim took this as an invitation and brought his hands around to the furred chest, one slipping under the loose shirt to tease a nipple to hardness.

Blair tipped his head back, hair falling down the back of the chair, irresistible. Jim knelt and buried his face in it with a quiet groan.

Then Blair sat back up, giving himself a shake.

"I've got to get this done tonight." he sounded apologetic. "I need it day after tomorrow and Schuller won't let me finish it at the station."

His battle with the homophobic detective had developed into a cold war, both sides arming themselves in an ever-escalating fashion, with Blair decidedly overpowered by Schuller's allies and position.

"Fuck Schuller. Stay home tomorrow." Jim couldn't believe he was saying that. "He's running you ragged, Blair. Don't let him."

Blair's eyes were hurt when he turned, hands dropping to his lap.

"What? You don't want me there anymore? It getting too hard for you? You ashamed of me now? I'm working my ass off on this case!"

Jim caught his hands but Blair pulled them away. Knowing full well that his lover didn't like to be manhandled, Jim stood and grabbed him anyhow, pulled him up into his arms, holding him tight.

"I could never, *never* be ashamed of you, Baby." he held tighter as Blair struggled mildly, a token protest. "Do you know how hard it is for me? To sit there and not defend you?" Blair got very still and Jim heard the exhaustion in his voice overwhelm the mild anger.

"Let me go, Jim. I've got work to do."

{He's too tired to even fight with me.} Jim released him gently, not wanting him to fall. Blair sat back down and began working again as if nothing had happened.

Jim went up to bed, but he didn't sleep. Instead he listened to Blair work, waiting for him to come up, wanting to be awake when he did.

He was still awake when his alarm went off -- and Blair was still working.

 

"You look like shit, boy." Schuller greeted Blair when he arrived that afternoon, exactly when he'd said he would. "Ellison keep you up all night again?"

Giving Jim a quick glance Blair declined to answer. Sig came in the door, carrying a stack of printouts, assessed the situation and came to Blair's rescue.

"We've got a hit." he told Blair, handing them to him. Blair shifted his pack and took them. He followed Sig over to the computers, but Sig stopped right in front of him with a gasp.

Blair looked around him and flushed brightly.

There was a cushion on his chair. One of those donut-shaped ones for people with...he turned around without a word, looking at the floor as he left the room, face burning.

"Thought you might need it!" someone yelled after him before the room was filled with masculine laughter.

Jim rose from his chair, face thunderous. He hadn't noticed the prank, but he knew who was responsible.

He grabbed Schuller by the shoulder and spun him around.

"You get off on that, you bastard? Taking advantage of a kid?"

"Not as much as *you* do." Schuller smirked.

Jim pulled his hand back, then lowered it.

"You're not worth it." he looked around the room. Most of the faces reflected an expectation of violence -- they were looking forward to it.

"Can't do it, canya, fag?" Schuller taunted.

"You aren't worth my badge." Jim answered. "I'm taking the rest of the day off. Take it out of my vacation time."

He left, hearing the comments behind him all too well.

"Go kiss it and make it better!"

"Don't forget the lube!"

His ears burned, the laughter filling them.

 

Blair wasn't anywhere in the station, not that Jim was surprised. He went home, but Blair wasn't there, either. Or at his office. The department secretary thought she'd seen him heading for the library.

Jim hung up the phone, and sat silently in the empty loft. Without Blair's energetic presence it felt barren.

Blair was an adult -- something Jim kept trying to get other people to see -- he'd be royally pissed if Jim tracked him down to check on him. If he'd wanted to talk he'd call, and eventually he'd come home.

Trying to keep busy, Jim went into the kitchen, pulled down one of Blair's cookbooks and began making one of his lover's favorite, but complicated, dishes.

When the casserole -- which required an hour of washing and chopping vegetables -- was safely in the oven he pulled out the biscuit mix, but stopped and went to the stereo. It was too quiet in here without Blair.

He'd been listening to old BB King cuts a couple of days ago and he pushed play on the CD expecting to hear that familiar rough voice.

Instead he got a soft, random electric guitar intro backed by what sounded like a newscast.

He waited, curious, and a quiet male voice began to sing.

When all that's left to do
is reflect on what's been done
this is where sadness breathes
the sadness of everyone
 

{What was Blair doing listening to this crap?} Jim hit skip, going to the next song.

And to love, a God
and to fear, a flame
and to burn
a crowd that has no name
 

He hit skip again. Listened. And again.

Skip. Skip. Skip.

The door opened behind him. He'd skipped through the whole CD and found nothing of value, nothing he could imagine Blair enjoying.

He turned, unaware that he looked angry in the dim light, the words of an angry song flowing around him.

Our love is like water
pinned down and abused
for being strange

Our love is no other
than me alone
for me all day
 

"What is this?" Jim asked, loudly over the music.

Blair dropped his pack where he stood, staring at him. He began to shrug and Jim saw him catch himself in the movement, suppress it.

"Something I heard in a record store the other day, when I ran in to grab something I'd ordered."

Jim listened to the lyrics of the new song as it changed.

I wanna feel
I wanna try
I wanna walk in the city tonight
I wanna deal
don't wanna die
 

Jim gestured at the stereo in disbelief.

"You *like* this?"

Blair came over and studied the stereo, then pushed a button.

"I like *this*." he said, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Jim took a step back, almost afraid of what he would hear. The singer's voice howled out over crashing cymbals and rhythmic guitar.

this is not helping me at all
what you are doing here
in the name of god and love
it's the distribution of fear
 

"What does that mean?!" Jim shouted, drowning out the next line. Blair's response covered another.

"I don't *know* what it means! I just know it suits my mood lately!"

They stared at each other. Jim suddenly felt that chasm between them, so often bridged by love, yawning deep and wide and dangerous.

pick me up and put me on the ground
set me up and spin me all around
no, you are not the me I wish to see

this is not helping me at all
where did we get this plan?
that you could give to me
what I might already have
pyramids, healing wines, a musician's fame
I've volunteered you my eyes
in place of facing me.
 

Jim heard the pain in those words, reining in his temper and trying to think things through. {He's telling me something with this.}

"Blair..." he sighed, deflated. "I love you. I'm sorry. There's nothing else I can say."

Blair just stared at him, his eyes unreadable, arms still tightly crossed. Jim dared take a step toward him.

"I know this is hard. You don't have to do it to prove anything to me."

There was no response. Jim stepped closer, right in front of him, invading his personal space, gingerly crossing the abyss that threatened them. He ached to take him in his arms, but was stopped by his fear.

"Please, baby. You're scaring me here."

That admission got through where his pleas hadn't. With a weary sigh Blair held out his arms and Jim stepped into them wrapping his own around the smaller man, pulling him close.

"I miss you so much, Baby. It's like you're not even here anymore." the tears in his eyes surprised Jim, but he didn't try to keep them in. "I sit by and watch you get hurt, again and again and I can't *do* anything...I'm afraid you're slipping away."

"I love you." Blair's whisper was a breath on the skin of his neck that caused a shiver.

They held each other tightly and the song changed again, this time something softer, deeper.

it's easier not to be wise
to measure these things by your brains
I sank into Eden with you
alone in the church by and by
 

"That's what you are to me, Blair. Heaven and Earth and Eden, all wrapped up in one package. Don't let anyone take that away from us." Blair's hair was damp with Jim's silent tears, but the younger man didn't answer.

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this!
 

"Blair...Baby. Say something." Jim was begging now, really afraid.

Instead of speaking Blair raised his face and covered Jim's mouth with his own, opening it wide, tongue slipping in and mating with Jim's. Jim groaned into Blair's mouth and tightened the embrace, too tight, he knew he was probably bruising the younger man, but he had to have him close...

oh now, we took it way too far
only love can save us now
all these riddles that you burn
all come running back to you
all these rhythms that you hide
only love can save us now
 

Blair was pulling him backwards to the couch, but Jim stopped him forcibly, pushing him away. Blair stared, eyes dark, chest heaving.

"Not like this, Baby. Not this time." Jim whispered, hands on his shoulders. "Upstairs, in our bed...where we belong together."

Blair nodded. Together they walked up the stairs, leaving the stereo on below.

They stood at the foot of the bed, staring at each other. Finally Jim raised a hand and stroked Blair's face with his fingers.

"I've missed you so much."

"I've been here." Blair spoke at last, voice shaking with an emotion Jim couldn't identify.

"You haven't been *here*." Jim emphasized the last word and Blair dropped his eyes, then looked back up, silently admitting the truth of those words.

"I'm here now."

He stood still while Jim undressed him, gently, slowly, taking his time, wanting only to express his love as best he could.

When Blair was naked Jim gently pushed him back onto the bed and then stripped in front of him, just as slowly as he'd stripped Blair.

His lover's eyes lingered on his chest, caressed his body. At last Blair reached for him and Jim fell into his arms, pushing him onto his back, his body blanketing Blair's as if he could shield him from the world.

Their kisses grew hungrier, more passionate. Jim grunted when Blair's hands found his cock and he pulled his head away to look down at him.

His lips were swollen from the kisses, cheeks red from stubble. Jim licked them soothingly, and Blair moaned softly, turning his head, trying to catch Jim's tongue with his mouth.

"I want to try something." Jim was whispering, hushed, reverent.

Blair nodded, his hands stroking and teasing Jim to greater hardness, his own erection rubbing Jim's leg hotly.

"I want you to trust me." Jim closed his eyes for a split- second before looking for an answer.

Again Blair nodded.

Jim rolled off him and sat up, putting a pillow against the headboard and leaning back on it slightly. Blair watched, his eyes slightly unfocused, as Jim lubed himself carefully.

"C'mere." Jim spread his legs and motioned Blair between them. Eagerly Blair went, but Jim turned him away from him, back- to-chest. Jim's cock nestled snuggly into his ass.

Blair groaned and arched a little, but Jim held him back.

"No, not yet...I want to..." he lifted Blair easily and positioned him. Blair's hands came to rest on Jim's thighs as the larger man lowered him onto the throbbing erection.

Blair moaned, long and deep in his throat, and began to move.

"No...no...not yet..." Jim panted a little. He wrapped his arms around Blair's chest and lay back, holding the smaller man firmly on top of himself. When they were flat on the pillow, his head just brushing the headboard, Jim moved his legs between Blair's and slid them around Blair's, pulling the younger man's legs wide, held by Jim's longer ones.

Blair groaned again, tried to arch. Still Jim resisted, sliding his hands up from Blair's chest and down his arms, bringing his hands over the smaller man's to meet them palm-to- palm, effectively holding down his arms.

Blair shivered as he realized that Jim had him stretched wide, exposed, posed like a man on a crucifix.

"It's okay, Baby." Jim whispered into his ear. "Relax...let me take you. Give yourself to me. I'll keep you safe."

His words brought another groan and Blair relaxed his body into Jim's, laying his head back, his hair fanning over the larger man's shoulders and neck, surrendering completely.

Jim lay still, absorbing the feeling of Blair against him, around him...it seemed like it had been forever since he'd held him, been in him, been a part of him.

Blair was lying still, his body flushed with anticipation, panting.

At last Jim began to move. He thrust easily, his hips lifting from the bed, Blair's weight bearing down on him. He spread his legs and Blair's wider, stretched the smaller man's arms further, spread them both out as far as he could, something inside pushing him, wanting to feel his lover submit completely.

"Blair...Baby." he sighed as he pumped gently. "I wish I could see you...covering me like this...I'm in you and I surround you...I'm all you can feel, all you can touch, all you can hear..."

Above him Blair relaxed further, letting himself become boneless, his body molding so completely to Jim's that they were fused, as if into one.

"We're all that matters, Baby." Jim increased his thrusts, powerful stomach muscle contracting and releasing, his hands tightening on Blair's. "Us together, like this...nothing can compete with this. Nobody can take this away. We become one."

Blair began to shudder and Jim held on, keeping the contact, not letting up on his grip, even a little bit.

"Jim!" Blair's shout of warning was unnecessary, his lover knew he was ready. With a mighty thrust that buried him even deeper inside Blair, Jim brought both their hands around and grabbed his cock, stroking it once, twice, before Blair erupted with an anguished cry beyond pleasure.

Jim held him, biting deeply into the young neck and screaming into the sweet flesh as they shuddered together.

"Jim." Blair whispered. "I'm whole."

"so am I, baby." Jim kissed the spot he'd bitten, ran his tongue over it. "We both are."

From below he could hear that song again.

I alone love you
I alone tempt you
I alone love you
Fear is not the end of this!
 

Jim rolled over, taking Blair with him, and fell asleep with those words echoing in his head.

 

Blair got to the station early the next day, deciding he could risk going with Jim for lunch, maybe.

He paused outside the conference room door, gathering his strength, the memory of last night's love warm in him.

"Dammit, Schuller!" Jim's vice carried clearly through the door. "I've got the most undercover experience here. You can't deny that."

"You're doing surveillance." Schuller was taunting. "We can't afford you running into any *prejudice*, can we? It might undermine your credibility."

"What, you think people can look at me and tell the way they can look at you and see you're an asshole?" Jim's shout got louder.

"I can." Schuller said it flatly. "I always knew there was something wrong with you, Ellison."

"You're wrong!" Jim sounded beyond rage. "Blair's the first! It's not because he's a man-- it's because he loves me! I am not *gay*!"

"Tell it to a judge." the man mocked. "You're not going undercover on this. I'm in charge here -- you remember that."

Blair gasped, took a deep breath, and leaned back against the wall, trying to regulate his breathing, not wanting Jim to hear him...{but he must already know I'm here.}

The door opened and Jim came out, fast, looking from side to side, eyes fastening on Blair.

He stopped, tense, staring at his young lover.

Blair stared back, unsure.

Jim blinked, then turned and walked down the hall without saying a word.

Blair stared after him, his eyes filling with tears.

He left the station without even telling Schuller he'd been there.

He spent the rest of the day cleaning the casserole dish from the night before...left in the oven all night, the contents had carbonized to the consistency of leather and clung to the glass tenaciously. It took almost an hour of scrubbing to get it anything close to clean and another to get it up to Jim's standards.

He didn't know where his lover had gone, but trusted, as Jim had, that he would come home when he was ready.

He didn't feel like eating, or even cooking. A glance at the stereo convinced him that he "didn't* want to listen to music, either. What had possessed him to buy that CD? It had definitely gotten a reaction out of Jim...

He sat on the couch, legs beneath himself, curling into the corner, closing his eyes.

Something wasn't right. With him and Jim...but he couldn't quite define the sensation.

Jim seemed the same. Stressed, because of the situation at work. But loving, stern, anal (that prompted a tiny grin)... creative. More imaginative in his lovemaking than Blair had ever dreamed. Blair shivered slightly, wrapping his arms around himself, thinking of the night before. What had that been? He'd felt like an offering spread on an altar, waiting for some god to come down and claim him. *How* did Jim know, how could he pinpoint these desires Blair was barely aware of and fulfill them, time and again?

Why didn't it make him happier?

Sitting up, Blair gave his head a hard shake to clear those thoughts. Jim loved him...how could he doubt it after last night?

But something still didn't feel right, and it wasn't just work.

He tried, but he just couldn't do it. The meaning of the feeling escaped him, as did the cause.

He lay back again, late nights and long days catching up with him.

{I wish I had somebody to talk to about this.} he sighed, turning over, curling up, closing his eyes, arms still crossed over his chest. {Simon? Nah. He's too uncomfortable with things now. And Trade's too young to understand, despite everything he's been through.}

He realized that there was nobody else. No-one he was that close to, no-one who would understand his fears and worries, listen to them. Only Jim, and this time he couldn't go to him.

It made him feel very small and alone.

 

Jim let himself into the loft quietly, hearing Blair's regular breathing as he slept, his heart beating a comforting rhythm.

Standing over the couch, looking down at his lover, Jim sighed, hands on his hips.

He'd never in a million years thought it would be this hard. Never understood Blair's insecurities, his doubts about starting a relationship between them.

Now it was different. He'd been cursed, insulted, mocked, and ridiculed -- all things Jim Ellison had *never* experienced before without beating the crap out of the source. But this time there was nothing he could say. The multitude that assaulted him was essentially *right*.

He was in love with a man. He was sleeping with a man. He was doing things to this man's body, letting him do things to *his* body, that he had never dreamed of doing with a woman -- and loving it. Everything they said he did, he'd done, and would gladly do again.

But it was getting harder and harder to accept that when Blair wasn't in his arms.

He felt like he had failed...failed himself, failed Blair, betrayed their love.

It was that feeling of failure that drove him upstairs to bed, leaving Blair asleep on the couch alone.

 

Blair woke, sweaty and disoriented, confused.

{Why am I sleeping on the couch?}

The loft was dark and still. Night sounds came from the balcony, where he'd left the doors open.

{Jim must not be home, he would have closed them.} he stood and stumbled to the doors, shutting them before going to the stairs, shedding his clothes as he climbed, ignoring the part of his mind that reminded him how Jim would feel about that. By the time he reached the top he was nude, so he'd be ready when Jim came home.

{Jim!}

He was so startled to see him there, sleeping there like a baby, that he repeated it aloud.

"Jim!"

His Sentinel sat up abruptly, staring at him in the darkness.

"Hey, Baby. You were sleeping so soundly I didn't want to wake you."

Blair felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to cover himself.

"Come to bed." Jim held up the covers like nothing had happened.

"Uh..." Blair blinked. He was imagining things. Had to be. Jim wanted him here. "Yeah. Okay." he climbed in and Jim pulled him close, molding their bodies together, his desire clear as he kissed the younger man deeply.

Blair yielded to him, he couldn't help it, he would do anything Jim wanted if he only kept kissing him like this...the lovemaking progressed rapidly, until both were straining and panting and Jim was turning in his arms, offering himself.

"You sure?" Blair whispered as he kissed his way down the broad back, hands gently teasing the sculptured ass. He always asked, always wanted to be sure before he took Jim to him this way.

"yes..." Jim hissed the word. "Please, Baby. Make love to me. Make it last a long time." {Make it blot out everything else in the world, make it drown out my mind.}

"Anything you want, Lover." Blair purred as he began to prepare him, so careful and gentle. "I'll do anything you want."

A long time later, as they lay in sated silence, their breathing filling the room, Jim spoke quietly.

"Anything, Baby?"

Blair lifted his head from Jim's chest, wishing for the millionth time that he could see his lover's face in the darkness the way Jim could see his.

"Anything." he affirmed, louder than a whisper.

"Don't come to the station until this is over."

Blair's gasp told him that the words had hurt, so Jim stroked his hair and murmured into it, trying to explain.

"It's just too hard...I can't listen to them hurting you and just sit there...I'm going to do something stupid if it goes on. I'm your protector, Blair, I can't just sit by and watch you be hurt."

Blair released a shuddering sigh before speaking.

"If that's what you want."

"It's not what I *want*, Baby. But if this keeps up something is going to give. Either I'll kill one of those guys or I'll be forced to file a harassment suit against them."

"That would be messy." Blair sighed.

"It would make everybody take sides." Jim rubbed Blair's head with strong fingers, but it didn't elicit the usual purr. "I'd be a troublemaker and god only knows what they'd say about you."

Nuzzling closer to Jim's skin Blair sighed again.

"It would be hard for that to get any worse."

"It would, Baby. Believe me." Jim's arms tightened around him convulsively. "I remember the last guy to come out at the station. He was in Vice and thought he'd been there long enough for everyone to accept it...he left after six months."

"No matter what they say I won't leave you."

"And I won't leave you." Jim tugged Blair up to kiss him gently. "You can still help with the case. You've worked hard enough to earn that. Sig can send data home with me for you to analyze."

"If Schuller lets him." Blair pressed close to kiss him again.

"He will...it kills him to admit it, but you're good. He needs you on this." Jim sounded so certain, so reasonable. Blair couldn't find any argument in his heart but one.

{But I want to be with you. All the time. Always.}

He bit the words back and fought against tears that threatened. He was tired of crying. This was his life and he had to accept it. He'd chosen it. No matter the cost to his heart.

 

Things seemed to get better. Jim went to work, Blair went to work. He ended up doing most of the cooking and housework because Jim was keeping such long hours, but he didn't mind. It made Jim happy.

Soon he realized that they were spending less and less time together, even when Jim was home. His lover worked on overdue reports, carried home boxes of bank records, went to bed late and got up early. Blair poured over search results, found the connections they needed, wrote his lectures and worked on his dissertation...but it wasn't like they were doing it together.

 

Late one night, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, Blair looked over at Jim, bent over the table, writing quickly.

"Hey. Lover." he called low in his throat.

Jim looked up, distractedly.

"Wanna go out tomorrow night?"

"It's your birthday, right?" Jim smiled, giving him his full attention. "We're going out."

Blair smiled back, feeling relief wash through him. He hadn't forgotten.

"I got the reservation three months ago, Baby." Jim's words were loving.

"You did?" delighted surprise.

"I did." Jim grinned again, then deliberately licked his upper lip, hearing the increase in Blair's heartbeat from across the room. His grin widened. "But I've got to get this finished to justify taking a night off."

"Oh." Blair's smile wavered. "Okay, man. But as soon as you're done with that I'm dragging your sorry butt up to bed."

Jim didn't answer, just went back to his work. Blair watched him for a minute, then did the same. The pleasure he'd felt at Jim's words was rapidly fading, being replaced by a wave of doubt.

Did Jim really want to go out? Or was he just doing it because Blair wanted to?

He couldn't ask. Couldn't even find the words.

So he worked and Jim worked and by the time they got to bed they were both too tired for anything but sleep.

"You look great." the doubts were still there the next night when Jim came down the stairs. Blair still hadn't moved his clothes up to the other closet and so had dressed in his old room. He came out, fingers twisting to button the top button of the white collarless shirt he'd tucked into grey twill slacks. Jim stepped over and reached, strong fingers nimbly finishing for him. Blair stood very still, watching his lover's face.

In his dark suit, with a dark shirt and tie, Jim seemed huge to him. Huge and unreachable.

Suddenly Blair threw himself at the older man, wrapping his arms around his waist and clinging fiercely.

Jim hugged him back, kissing the top of his head. Blair had left his hair free, to please him.

"What's the matter, Baby?"

"Nothing." Blair disengaged reluctantly, embarrassed. "I just...I just wanted to."

Jim let him step away, looking worried.

"You sure you want to go out?"

Blair threw him a sharp look, blue eyes hooded, unreadable. Jim hated it when he couldn't read Blair's eyes.

"Then we'd better get if we're going to make the reservation." Jim picked up his keys and led him out.

Blair watched Jim as they drove. He was still feeling something here..something that didn't belong. Inside, he knew Jim was having second thoughts.

{If he wants me to go I will.} he promised himself silently. {I'll do whatever he wants. Even if it kills me.}

Jim reached over and squeezed his leg, giving him a smile.

"Deep thoughts, Chief? Worried about that big 3-0 getting closer?"

Blair was startled into a snort of laughter.

"Not as worried as you should be about the *4-0*." he retorted. Jim's hand remained on his leg and he felt better, covering it with his own.

The restaurant was one of the most popular - and expensive - in town. They had a jazz band and no prices on the menu.

Jim ordered the wine and they sat back in their seats, studying each other.

"Sometimes I can't believe you're so young." Jim said at last. "I look at you and I think I'm robbing the cradle."

Blair laughed nervously.

"I'm not as young as all that."

"Twenty-seven. You're only twenty-seven, Baby. There's so much ahead of you...I don't want to stand in your way."

Blair reached across the table and took Jim's hand. They were usually discreet in public, but he needed this contact and Jim seemed to sense that. He smiled his gentle smile and stood.

"You want to dance?"

Blair stared.

"Here?"

"Here." Jim gave his hand a tug.

"Where everyone can see us." Blair was just being sure.

"Where everyone can see the man I love." Blair allowed himself to be pulled from the chair and onto the dance floor, only a few other couples swaying there. Jim whispered in his ear, placing his hands on Blair's waist and back, pressing his face toward his chest. "Here I lead."

Blair relaxed and let himself be led to the gentle beat. Closing his eyes, he felt Jim's warmth flow around him, surround him. A shield against a harsh world.

The song didn't really end, just became something faster, and Jim pushed him away a little, taking Blair's hand in his, and showing him how to move to this music. Blair grinned, picking it up quickly, loving the sight of Jim moving freely. His lover was still reserved, but there was a lightening in his body, a grace Blair had never glimpsed until he made love with him.

He saw several disapproving glances, but no-one seemed inclined to say anything, so he ignored them and concentrated on Jim.

Another slow song, and then Jim led him from the floor.

"The wine's here." he nodded to the table. "Ready to eat?"

"Always, Big Guy." Blair's grin was lecherous and Jim shook his head.

"You're incorrigible."

"So don't incorridge me." Blair gave the standard response, picking up his menu.

They ate - steak for Jim, shrimp pasta for Blair. Then they danced again, Blair finding that he enjoyed this music, if not as much as Jim did. They finished off two bottles of wine between them, Blair getting the lion's share.

Blair sighed, relaxed, comfortable. He saw Jim watching him and smiled, a soft, sweet smile, like a happy child's.

Jim reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a thin, narrow box. He handed it over, looking just a little worried.

"I didn't know what to get you..." he shrugged just a little.

"You didn't have to." Blair said low and he meant it. "Having you is gift enough. Dancing in public is twice that."

"Take it. I wanted to." Jim urged, his hand stretched across the table, offering the box to Blair, who took it hesitantly, turning it over in his hands.

"I haven't got a lot of birthday presents." he said at last, knowing Jim was watching him.

"So now you'll get one every year." Jim said it softly. Blair looked up, into the light blue eyes that graced the strong face.

Jim believed what he was saying. Blair wished he had as much faith.

"Open it?" Jim sounded anxious.

Blair turned it over in his hands again, his fingers stroking the soft velvety cover. It was a jewelry box, but he couldn't imagine what Jim had gotten him.

Carefully, he lifted the lid, eyes widening.

"Will you wear it? I wasn't sure..." Jim's smile faltered.

Blair pulled out the string of amber squares linked together with beaten copper plates.

"Wow." he breathed, laying it across his wrist. "Where did you get this?"

"Smithsonian catalogue." Jim sat back, pleased with his reaction. "Look under the paper, there's more."

Still staring at the bracelet, knowing what things from that catalogue cost -- it must be hand-carved and the amber was *real* -- Blair shifted through the paper with is other hand, pulling out a pair of tickets.

"To the opening of the new museum wing?" he looked up, startled. "You want to take me to the opening? The press will be there, the mayor..."

"I want to take you." Jim leaned across the table and took the bracelet, deftly fastening it around Blair's left wrist. "It looks good on you. I knew it would."

Blair raised his hand, letting it slide up his arm a little.

"It's great." he couldn't put what he felt into words, but he wanted to try. "Jim...I don't know, but I've been feeling..."

Jim reached and touched his lips with a finger.

"I know. We'll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. But tonight is for other things."

Blair kissed the finger and Jim pulled it back.

"Want to dance again before we leave?"

"Yeah." Blair happily followed him to the dance floor.

He was still happy when they left, Jim's arm around his shoulders, leaning into him, feeling euphoric and bubbly. He was babbling on about some esoteric custom in some far-away tribe and Jim was listening to him with quiet amusement. Blair was buzzed and feeling no pain.

"Want to walk in the park?"

"That would be great." Blair beamed up at him and they went around the building. There was an entrance to the big city park right behind it, leading to one of the mazes of ponds and footbridges.

They wandered through, feeling too comfortable to talk, then sat on a bench, looking up at the stars.

{This is the way it was.} Jim thought to himself. *Before everyone found out and the trouble started.*

"I wish we could go back." Blair's quiet words startled him.

"I was just thinking that. Are you sorry?"

"I'll never be sorry for loving you." Blair turned in his arms and Jim lowered his head to meet his mouth, his hands cradling Blair's face between them tenderly. He kissed his closed eyelids, brushed his lips along the cheekbones, then back to that mouth he loved...

"Oh, Baby." he wanted to shout his love from a rooftop. "Always mine, Baby. Always mine." he opened his mouth to kiss him again.

"Hey Ellison! SMILE!!"

The voice came from nowhere, but the flash of a camera was easy to spot. Jim heard the machine whirring as it snapped again and again. There was loud laughter from the other side of the screen of hedges.

He was off the bench, pushing Blair behind him, and heading for the laughter, in less than a minute.

"That's what it takes to piss you off, huh? Finally got your number, Jimmy?" Blair recognized Schuller's voice and Hall's laughter.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Schuller?!" Jim was livid. "Fucking *stalking* me?" he was headed for the mocking voice.

Blair moved to follow Jim, but was stopped by strong arms that grabbed him from behind and held him tight, no matter how he fought.

"No-no, you ain't gonna interfere this time, little fag." Hall's voice was loud in his ear, making him fight harder, to no avail.

"You must like it rough." Hall sneered.

Three more men came out of the bushes, but only Schuller stepped forward.

"You want it?" he dangled the camera in front of Jim. "All you have to do is beat me to take it."

Jim shrugged out of his jacket and went forward without hesitating.

"Jim! No!" Blair screamed, but Hall's hand clamped over his mouth and he had to fight to breathe.

Schuller swung, Jim swung, Schuller swung, it was quickly obvious who was faster, stronger. Jim finished him off with a hard right to the jaw, caught the camera as it fell, then turned on Hall, murder in his eyes.

The man shoved Blair toward Jim with a nasty grin.

"Here's your *Baby*." Blair stumbled and Jim caught him, brought him close, so angry he couldn't speak for several minutes.

"It's okay, Jim." Blair whispered against his shirt. "He didn't hurt me."

"I ever catch you following me again they'll never find your body."

Hall just smirked.

Jim turned away, holding Blair close to him, feeling the younger man's body trembling.

They were almost back to the car when Blair stopped. Jim looked down at him, hands running over his body, assuring himself that his lover was unhurt.

"Jim...he broke it." Blair held up his wrist, now bare.

There was a deadness, an acceptance to the words that Jim hated to hear.

"I'll get you another one." he didn't say 'Baby', though it was on the tip of his tongue. Hall had made the endearment dirty, ugly.

Blair just nodded. They got into the truck and drove home.

 

Jim moved up Blair's body slowly as his lover's pulse slowed and he began to breathe again, settling on his elbows on either side of the curly head, his own heart still racing, body quivering with aftershocks.

"Feel better?" he teased, kissing his neck, tasting the sweat and sweetness there.

"How could I not?" Blair heaved a deep sigh and his arms around Jim clenched tighter. He pressed his face to Jim's chest, hard enough to mash his nose and his words were muffled. "I couldn't live without you, Jim."

"You won't ever have to." Jim promised, kissing him again, nibbling on the exposed neck, nuzzling away sweaty strands of hair.

The kiss was interrupted by a banging on the door below.

They both looked up, Jim rolled off the bed, reaching for his gun, on the table beside the bed, as always.

"Detective Ellison?! We need to talk to you."

"I don't recognize the voice." Blair said, looking worried.

"I do." Jim grimaced. "Get dressed."

Blair scrambled out of bed, searching for his clothes. Jim had thrown them around the room as he undressed the younger man, delighting in Blair's chuckles as his tidy lover made a mess. Jim was already dressed, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, by the time Blair found a pair of sweats to put on instead of his dressy clothes. The banging continued.

"Stay here." Jim gestured. Blair shook his head.

"I'm not letting you go down there alone."

Jim gave him a long look. Bare-chested, Blair's body still glistened with sweat. There was a scattered pattern of love-bites trailing from his collarbone to his hip on the left side. The nipple and navel rings seemed to glow in the reflected light from outside.

"Put a shirt on." he said gently, and started down the stairs.

Blair listened as he dug for a shirt in Jim's closet. Not finding one of his own he took one of Jim's, well aware that it was too big, and then padded down on bare feet.

Opening the door to two uniformed cops, Jim felt Blair's approach and turned to look at him as the cops did.

His hair was wild around his face, his eyes were still dark and soft, he looked almost sleepy, and he was wearing a shirt that was obviously not his...Jim stifled a groan.

"Sorry if we *interrupted* something." the taller cop, Haney -- the same one who had pestered Jim in the parking lot weeks before -- sneered. "There've been charges filed against you and we have to take you in."

His partner, whose name tag read 'Perrin', looked from Blair to Jim and back again before speaking.

"We're trying to do this quietly, Detective Ellison." he seemed reasonable. At least he was trying to be. "We need to get a statement."

"Statement my ass." the other one said, reaching for Jim's arm. Jim yanked it away and took a step back. "We've got four eye witnesses. We're arresting him."

Blair's gasp was loud and he almost stumbled on the stairs.

"What?!"

Jim faced them, staring until Haney backed off.

"What are the charges and who filed them?"

"Detective Schuller, sir. He said you assaulted him in the park. He's at the emergency room now, having his nose fixed." Perrin shrugged. "It's broken."

{Didn't think I hit him that hard.} Jim stared at him for a long minute, then turned away, speaking over his shoulder.

"Let me grab some shoes."

"You got a back door to this place?" Haney asked rudely. "Don't try to run."

Jim ignored him, walking back up the stairs, taking Blair by the arm and leading him along.

Safely in the bedroom he turned and gave Blair a quick kiss on the lips. Blair was still staring, still half-buzzed, not entirely awake.

"Did I hear them right?"

"Apparently Schuller had a plan B." Jim said, sitting on the bed and pulling on clean socks, then his boots while Blair watched. "He and his buddy are claiming I attacked *him*."

"Oh, man." Blair pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Oh, shit. What are we gonna do?"

"I'm going to go downtown and try to straighten this out. You're going to call Simon and ask him if he can post bail, in case I need it."

"Bail? You don't think they'll put you in jail?!"

"It depends...on whether they're going to try to stick me with attempted murder or something ridiculous like that. If they think they can get a felony they won't be letting me go."

"Oh, gods." Blair sat on the bed, arms around himself. Jim turned to him, cuddled him close. "This is all my fault."

"Nothing's your fault, Ba - *Blair*." Jim stroked his hair, wondering how long the guys downstairs were going to be patient. "This is Schuller's doing, not yours."

"If you weren't with me..." Blair was interrupted by an angry yell from downstairs.

"Hurry your ass up, Ellison! We ain't got time for you to play with the kid!"

Jim gave Blair another quick kiss and stood.

"Don't come to the station." his eyes told Blair how important this was to him. "And don't drive until you're sober. Call Simon."

"Jim...." Blair whispered. "I love you." the words were hard to form in his dry mouth.

"I love you too." Jim smiled. "This will be okay."

Blair watched him leave, not believing him for a minute.

Jim allowed himself to be cuffed and led to the waiting car. He felt the eyes of his neighbors on him from their windows and flushed with anger, but walked tall and proud.

{Blair, don't look.} he begged quietly. {Please don't watch this.}

He glanced at the window, saw no shadow there.

Blair hadn't watched. He'd been spared that.

 

"I'll get you the best lawyer I can." Simon told him. Jim sat alone in the tiny cell at the back, segregated from the other prisoners for his own safety.

"When's the bail hearing?" Jim was sitting on his bench, looking as comfortable as he could under the circumstances. He owed Simon an apology. Despite their recent problems, his captain had come through for him when he needed it.

"Not for two days." Simon shrugged apologetically. "I tried to hurry it but they don't want to show favoritism."

"Especially to me." Jim's voice was calm. "How is the case?"

"Schuller had to resign as head of the task force. He couldn't work undercover looking like that and this has made him look bad too."

Jim nodded, than asked the important question.

"How's Blair?" he'd written his lover a long note practically begging him to stay away, though not seeing him was torture.

"Scared."

"Is he working?"

"He went in today."

Jim nodded. Simon rubbed a broad hand down his face with an exasperated sigh.

"I don't know what else to do."

"It's okay, sir. Just keep an eye on Blair."

"Sandburg will be fine, Jim. It's *you* I'm worried about. Did you really threaten to kill him?"

Jim stared at him steadily.

"You know I didn't."

"I've seen those pictures he took. You sure looked pissed."

"I had cause."

"You had a good reason to beat the shit out of him." Simon's eyes were probing, measuring him.

"He swung first."

"Self-defense, right." Simon agreed. Then he shook his head and rubbed his face again. "Dammit, I know you're telling the truth, Jim. I even believe Sandburg. But it's their word against yours and those pictures don't help."

Jim kept quiet. He was sure Schuller wasn't going to go through with this. The man was an asshole and a mediocre cop, but he'd never been known as a liar and he seemed to have some respect for the law. Jim couldn't see him committing perjury just to be cruel to him.

He wanted something, and he'd tell Jim what after he'd left him to stew long enough.

"Just keep an eye on Blair, okay, captain?"

Simon nodded. There was nothing else he could do now.

He left. Jim sat, bringing his legs up on the bench, elbows on knees, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. It was quiet here, but that was no barrier to his senses. He could hear a radio playing a block away...he focused in and recognized the song.

I see the storm set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait...without you
 

{huh. this is getting weird.} he thought. Then he just listened.

Through the storm we reach the shore
you give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I can't live
With or without you
 

Jim's eyes snapped open and he yanked his hearing back. He'd liked the song up until that point, but that last line made him nervous.

{I can't live without Blair.} he told himself. Then he spoke aloud.

"I can't live without him. So I have to be able to live with him."

Even saying it made his stomach twist.

What if he had to let him go? What if it was the best thing for Blair?

Jim rose quickly from the bench and made it to the toilet in the corner, leaning over it and heaving the contents of his stomach.

A cop, Goolsby, came around the corner, hearing the noise and checking on him. She leaned against the bars and gave him a sympathetic look.

"You sick, Ellison?"

"Something I ate." Jim muttered, going back to the bench and sitting down again.

"I'll get you something cold to drink." she offered and he gave her a grateful nod. She'd been entirely decent through this whole thing, completely unlike the daytime guys who liked to make fun of him just out of his hearing range - or so they thought.

He closed his eyes and let the misery envelop him.

{Oh, god, Blair, how did it get like this?}

 

Blair didn't hear Jim's thoughts so far away, of course. He was locked in his office, working steadily, the only thing that was keeping him sane was the work. He'd gotten more accomplished in the last three days than the previous three months, and it was all good, because he was concentrating as hard as he could.

It was the only way he could keep from thinking. His mind had developed a frightening habit of chanting 'Jim's in jail, Jim's in jail, Jim's in jail' whenever he relaxed. He'd gone to sleep hearing those words and woken up to them for the past three days.

He worked on into the night.

The ringing phone made him jump. He glanced at the clock and groaned at the time. Two am. He seemed to be getting out of here later every night.

"Sandburg." he answered sharply.

"How am I supposed to watch out for you when you're never where you say you're going to be?" Simon's voice was perfectly rational. "I called the loft and you weren't there -- you said you were going to be home by twelve tonight."

"Sorry, dad." Blair muttered. It was nice of Simon to keep track of him, made him feel like somebody cared, but this was getting old fast. "Did you see him today?"

"He's fine, Blair." that was all he would ever say. "Don't worry."

"Uh-huh." Blair answered. {As if I could stop!}

"Are you going home soon?"

"In about twenty minutes." Blair said, looking at the stack on his desk. He'd reach a stopping place soon.

"I'll call in forty-five." Simon said.

"Thanks." he tried not to let it sound sarcastic and wasn't sure he'd succeeded when Simon hung up without saying goodbye.

 

Jim looked up at the sound of footsteps. The heartbeat was familiar...he grimaced when Schuller came around the corner.

The man stood outside the cell and grinned. Jim kept his face blank.

"You look pretty good in there." was the opening comment.

"You don't look so hot out there." Schuller's nose was set, swollen and purple, giving him a distinctly piggy aspect.

"You should be nicer to me, Ellison. I've got your life right here, in the palm of my hand." He opened his hand and Jim's eyes widened when he saw his own badge.

Then he shook his head.

"That's not my life. *Blair* is my life."

"Little fag really got to you, didn't he. He must be a terrific fuck." Schuller made a show of tucking the badge into his pocket. "You want to get out of here?"

Jim just stared, the picture of calm.

"I'll give you two choices. Resign or send your toy away." Schuller smiled widely. "Either way I get what I want. We don't want no fag cops on this force."

Jim closed his eyes for a minute to shut out the image.

"Think about it. You were a good cop before you started sleeping with that little pervert." Schuller said. "It wouldn't kill you to get rid of him. Things can go back to the way they were."

Jim opened his eyes again.

"If I resign you'll drop the charges?"

"You'd rather resign?"

"There are other cities, other police departments."

"They won't want you with this on your record."

"Then I'll go to private security."

Schuller shrugged.

"So that's your choice."

"That's my choice." Jim's voice was steady and clear.

"I though you were smarter than that, Ellison." Schuller turned away. Jim listened to him walking down the hall. He'd left the cellblock and was going up the stairs when Jim heard him say something that chilled his soul

"We'll see if you still want him after tonight."

Jim jumped to his feet and screamed for Goolsby.

 

The parking lot was dark and forbidding. Blair grimaced, the campus maintenance people still hadn't replaced the broken light. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the building and headed for his car, parked way on the other side of the lot, because that's all that had been available when he'd gotten there that afternoon after oversleeping.

He was halfway across when he heard it.

A soft laugh. Behind him.

He turned, looking around, quickly spotting the man approaching him, recognizing him without really trying.

{*Hall*! Oh, shit!} he dropped his books and pack and sprinted for his car, but two more men appeared before him. He tried to go around them, but one was quick and got his arm.

Blair fought back, kicking out as his arms were yanked behind his back and he was hefted off the ground by the taller man, carried to the shadow of the building.

He hit something and heard a grunt of pain, kicked again.

A fist hit him right in the belly. He doubled over the pain. It came again, and again.

{Oh, god, they're gonna kill me...} he tried to think. He opened his mouth to shout for help, and then felt the sharp coldness at his throat.

"Don't do it, pretty boy. Not if you want to live." another voice whispered.

Blair nodded fractionally, gasping.

He was lowered to the ground, aware that there were at least five men around him. Held down at arms and legs he shook but didn't fight.

"Why are you doing this? I've never hurt you." his voice broke and he fought back tears. "What did I ever do to you?"

"You corrupted a good cop." Hall answered. "We can't let you get away with that."

He squatted down at Blair's side and produced another knife. Blair shook harder, silently cursing his fear.

Slowly Hall cut his shirt from him, baring his skin to the warm night.

Blair closed his eyes tightly as the men holding him laughed quietly. Then he felt the knife at the cuff of his jeans.

There were no words in his mind, no prayers. Just an overwhelming terror.

"No..." he gasped, trying to be quiet, the knife at his throat pressing closer, the sharp edge biting into his skin. "no, please, don't..."

Hall didn't respond, just finished cutting his clothing from him efficiently.

"Look at that. He's pretty well hung." he commented admiringly. "Wonder if he ever shoved that thing up Ellison's ass?"

Blair trembled violently, unable to control his terror as the large man straddled his torso. He arched back, hitting his head hard on the concrete, loosing the control he was fighting so hard to keep.

"No!...oh, god, no, don't...." he squirmed and fought as best he could with the knife at his throat. "oh, god, just kill me, don't...don't...."

The knife in Hall's hand came to rest at the point of his chin. With a tremendous effort Blair regained control and was still, his throat now framed by knives.

"What? You think I'm gonna rape you, you little pervert? You'd probably like it...so I'm not gonna."

Blair didn't move. His eyes tracked the knife as Hall pulled it away from his chin and waved it slowly in front of him.

"And I'm not gonna kill ya. I'm just going to give you something to remember me by. So you'll never forget what you are."

"What...what are you...oh, god..." Blair was hyperventilating, felt blackness at the edges of his vision. Maybe it would be better to pass out, to escape before this got any worse.

"You might not be listening later." Hall grabbed his face viciously, forcing Blair to stare up at him, blue eyes so wide the pupils contracted to pinpoints. "So listen *now*, little fag." he dug his fingers deep into the soft skin of Blair's face, cruelly. "If you leave town we'll make sure Ellison gets out. But if we ever see you here again we'll kill both of you."

He lifted Blair's head and smacked it back down on the concrete.

"*Understand*?"

His mind whirling in panic, Blair just stared.

"Do you understand?" Hall banged his head harder this time.

"y-y- yes..." Blair gasped out. "i understand..."

"Good. Then we can get down to business." Hall pulled his hand away like it had been contaminated. Blair waited for what would happen next, and it came quickly.

Blair's head was grabbed by the man holding the knife, who pressed viciously at the corners of his jaw until his mouth had to open, and he stuffed something into it and held his head back, throat exposed, vulnerable.

"In case you can't keep quiet." Hall said. "Now, don't move..."

At first Blair didn't feel it, but then the pain hit him and he struggled, easily held by the five larger men.

Hall kept going, cutting and carving into his chest and belly...eventually Blair had to scream and he did, over and over, into the gag, laboring to suck in enough air through his nose...Hall muttered to himself as he worked, the other men made quiet comments and Blair screamed silently until he passed out, gratefully.

 

"Jim! What is it?" Simon rushed into the cellblock, still wearing his suit, looking tired and flustered and angry.

"Where's Blair?!" Jim shouted at him. "They're going to hurt Blair!"

Simon gave him one hard look, but didn't ask a single question. He turned to Goolsby and barked at her.

"Where's your phone?!"

She pointed, then ran ahead of him to unlock the cage she worked from. Simon grabbed the phone and shouted into it.

"I want two cars at the university, parking lot three!"

Jim heard the confused voice at the other end of the line.

"Who is this?"

"Captain Banks, Major Crimes - I've just had a report of a possible attack and I need you to go protect a witness!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the duty officer responded promptly.

"I'll be right behind them!" Simon slammed the phone down and ran from the office. He stopped dead when he saw Jim's face.

Jim's blue eyes pleaded with him.

"Jim....I can't." it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to say.

Jim buried his face in his hands, staggering.

"Go!" he whispered. "GO!" it rose to a shout. Goolsby stared at them both.

Simon ran from the room.

 

In the darkness a body stirred, then tried to rise. But the effort proved too much and it slumped again, landing in a spreading pool that glistened darkly in the starlight.

 

Lights and siren howling through the night Simon drove after the two patrol cars, his cel phone to his ear.

The phone in Blair's office rang and rang, sounding just like the one at the loft.

Sounding like some angry insect that was about to rip his lungs out.

He threw down the phone and grabbed the radio.

"He's not answering the phone! I want you to stop at the parking lot entrance and sweep it with your lights!"

The men followed his orders completely, jumping from their vehicles and spreading into a search party, bright sulfur lights cutting through the darkness. Simon clutched his phone, ready to call an ambulance...or whoever was needed...as the minutes passed he began to hope that Jim was wrong...

"Captain! Over here!" the shout came from the far side of the building. As Simon ran over the campus cops arrived belatedly with a screech of tires.

"Call an ambulance!" he bellowed at them as he ran past.

The young cop was bending over a crumpled body, his fingers pressed to the pale neck, and he looked up when Simon came around the corner and stopped short.

"He's alive." another cop arrived and played his light over the scene. They both gasped, the young one who had taken Blair's pulse turned away, going pale.

Blair was sprawled on his back, naked, his clothes in tatters around him, legs twisted as if he'd tried to get up, arms reaching for something...his face was battered and bruised, and there were words carved into his skin, barely legible through the blood that covered him.

Simon read them numbly, aloud, unable to accept what he was seeing.

"Ellison's whore."

Before anyone else could say or do anything he'd torn off his jacket and was covering Blair with it.

"Give me your coat!" he shouted at a startled officer who was just running up. The others weren't wearing jackets.

"Give it to me!" Simon's voice was strident now. Hurriedly the man got out of it and handed it over. Simon used it to cover Blair's lower body, then knelt beside him and took his hand.

The other cops arrived from the far side of the parking lot, and they all stared with various degrees of shock and anger. The first officer on the scene quietly told them what he'd found.

Simon sat with Blair until the paramedics took him. There was only one thought in his mind, a terrible guilt.

{I was supposed to watch out for him. I told Jim I would watch over him.}

He couldn't imagine telling Jim. It was too painful to even think about.

 

Jim spent the night pacing his cell, knowing something was wrong and completely helpless to do anything about it. Goolsby even called Simon's office and home for him, but there was no answer at either place -- or at the loft or Blair's office.

At last he was reduced to pacing in a circle, around and around the cell, hands clenched in fists at his sides, jaw gritted so tight that his teeth hurt, his entire being focused on his hearing, searching, searching through the city, for that one heartbeat, that one soul breathing -- he couldn't find it, though he tried again and again...he kept pacing. He couldn't let himself zone out, god knew what they would do to him if they found him that way, and he had no illusions about his ability to come out of a zone without Blair's help.

{Blair. Oh Baby, where are you?}

 

The world was pain.

He remembered this feeling, but it hadn't ever been this bad before...

Blair reached a hand out, or at least thought he did. His mouth opened and a whisper of sound escaped.

"jim...."

 

"We repaired all the damage." the older male doctor was carefully not looking at Simon. "There shouldn't be any complications. The two broken ribs are set and the... lacerations ...we had a plastic surgeon come down to work on them."

Simon nodded, looking thankful, rubbing his face with one hand, glasses in the other.

"When will he wake up?"

"Within the next hour. I understand that you'll want to get a statement from him."

"As soon as possible." Simon gathered himself and held out a hand. "Thank you for your work here."

The doctor shook the hand and left. Simon stood alone in the hall, trying to find the words he needed to tell his friend what had happened.

 

"Unnnnngh." Blair opened his eyes, belatedly realizing that the soft moans he heard were coming from his own mouth.

There was a face leaning over the bed...a face he recognized.

"Ah!" he pushed himself up, but rough hands grabbed his shoulders and pressed him back down, the face leering at him.

"Be quiet." the voice hissed. He hadn't heard this voice before, but he recognized the face of the man who had held his head, the feel of the fingers that had forced his mouth open. Terrified, Blair lay very still, staring up at him.

The man was in uniform.

"I'm here to watch you." he hissed. "To *protect* you. But I'll tell you what's gonna happen...you're going to get out of that bed and get out of the city before we decide it's not worth it to let you live -- you or that fag cop of yours."

The door opened behind him and the man turned quickly, his hand tightening on Blair's arm, enough to hurt, a warning.

"Compton." Simon spoke quietly. "I want you stationed at the door."

"I heard him wake up, captain. Came in to check on him."

"He's awake?" Simon crossed quickly to the bed, Compton backing off but listening. "Sandburg? Blair?!" Simon shook his shoulder gently.

Blair opened his eyes again, glancing from one man to the other.

"Hey, Simon." he tried to make himself sound normal

"I am so glad you're all right." Simon released a deep sigh. "Jim is going to kill me for letting you get hurt."

"Not your fault, man. Just one of those things." Blair managed a tiny shrug, all too aware of Compton standing there.

"Did you see any of your attackers? Can you identify any of them?" Simon asked urgently.

Blair shook his head minutely, closing his eyes briefly to avoid the smirk on Compton's face.

"It was too dark, man. And they didn't talk." he opened them, trying to see if Simon believed him.

The tall black man was studying him warily.

"You know this is important, Sandburg." he said slowly. "You know that if they did this to you they can do it to someone else."

{Only if he's fucking a cop!} Blair's mind giggled hysterically.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't remember anything." he winced, in real pain.

"Alright." Simon patted his shoulder gently. "You get some rest -- I'm going to head down to the station and see what we've got before I talk to Jim."

*Jim!* Tears welled in Blair's eyes but Simon misunderstood them.

"I can't let him out to come see you, Blair." he sounded very sad about it. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Blair closed his eyes again, fearing that he would reveal too much if the man stayed and continued to be nice. "I just need some time alone, okay?"

"You rest. I'll talk to Jim and bring you his message." Simon gestured to Compton and they went into the hall.

Blair listened, hearing their voices clearly.

"Nobody gets in to talk to him, do you understand?" Simon was stern.

"Yes, sir." Compton said steadily. "Nobody, sir."

"Good."

 

It was after before he heard a familiar footstep. His head snapped up and he stopped still, body straining toward the man approaching...all it took was one look at Simon's face and he knew.

"What did they do to him?" {Blair isn't dead. He can't be dead.}

Simon wouldn't look at him.

"They cut him up pretty bad, Jim. I've been at the station taking care of things."

"I want to go to him."

"Schuller dropped the charges." Simon sounded confused and exhausted. "You can leave right away."

Jim waited while the cell door was unlocked. Waited patiently while the paperwork was done. Simon tried to talk to him but he ignored the man coldly.

It was taking too long, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"You've been reinstated...no questions asked." Simon told him when it was finally done.

Accepting his belongings in their plastic sack, Jim blinked at him in disbelief, then turned and walked away. Simon followed.

When they stepped out of the jail Jim turned to him. His face was frozen in blankness. Simon stared at him.

"I quit." Jim turned and walked away before Simon had a chance to process the information.

"Jim!" he shouted when he understood. "Wait!"

Jim climbed into a cab at the taxi stand and left without looking back.

 

"I'm sorry, Detective Ellison. Mr.Sandburg signed himself out AMA just an hour ago."

Jim stared at the nurse in disbelief.

"He did what?"

"He signed himself out, against medical advice. We tried to stall him, but the only person listed as an emergency contact is you and we couldn't reach you."

"He was in surgery for four hours." Jim paled as he thought of Blair wandering the streets, hurt, disoriented.

"He was in full command of his senses, sir. He didn't seem to be in a lot of pain."

"No, he wouldn't show it." Jim snarled. "Where's the officer charged with watching him?"

"Officer Compton tried to talk him out of leaving, sir. Then he left to file a report."

"What kind of incompetents are you?!"

She took a step back, away from the naked rage contorting his face.

"The surgery was mostly reconstructive..." she spluttered defensively.

Jim ignored her, reached past her, under the counter, hand searching for what he knew must be there, grasping and coming up with a phone triumphantly.

He pushed 9, then dialed the loft. After it rang twenty times he gave up and called the station. Simon wouldn't have had time to process his resignation yet....and he was still a cop.

"This is detective Ellison." he told the dispatcher shortly. "I want to put out an APB on Blair Sandburg. He's injured and in need of medical attention."

"Uhh, I'll have to clear that with my supervisor, sir..."

"Let me talk to him." Jim snapped.

It took a few minutes, listening with pain to the 'easy listening' station they used on hold.

"Ellison? Did they finally straighten that mess out?"

Jim sighed in relief.

"Howard. Yeah, I'm out and I'm reinstated. Listen, Blair's checked himself out of the hospital...he only got out of surgery this morning..."

"Consider it done." Howard was a good guy, Jim was pleased to find that he still had a few allies on the force. "We'll find him."

"I'm going to check at home, but there's no answer so I don't think he's there...I'll call you if I find him."

"Good luck." he sounded like he meant it.

Jim hung up and gave the nurse a look.

"I want to see his chart."

"I can't let you do that, sir."

"I'm a cop and it's evidence." Apparently he looked intimidating enough, because she dug into a pile and handed it over without another word.

He read it once. Then again. Then he laid it on the counter and left.

It was dark. Jim turned the corner, listening, scenting the air, trying as hard as he could to find his friend, his lover.

He'd been driving around town all day, trying to find him.

Blair had vanished without a trace.

{Maybe they found him first and finished the job.} the thought chilled him. He picked up the phone and called the station again.

"No word, Jim." Howard had been on all day, had put the call out regularly. Jim could only hope the other cops were looking for Blair as hard as he was.

He hung up and the phone rang. He answered it, staring into the darkness.

"Ellison."

"Jim....?"

"Blair!" he stomped on the brakes and screeched to a stop in the middle of the street, fortunately deserted. "Where are you?!"

Blair sounded tired, and his words were slurred.

"Just wanted to tell you, Jim. Don't follow me. This is best for us..."

"What are you saying?! Don't follow you where?! Blair!" Jim pounded on the dash with a fist, terrified. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"I'm going to visit an old friend." Blair answered, whispering now. "I'm really tired, Jim."

"You need to go back to the hospital, Baby." Jim felt tears well in his eyes. "come home and let me take care of you..."

"No..." Blair paused and took a ragged breath. Jim listened hard, heard sounds in the background...an airport or a bus station..."This is messing up your life, man. You'll do better without me."

"No, Baby, no." Jim sobbed the words, crumpling forward in the cab, over the steering wheel. "Please don't leave me."

"You'll be okay, Big Guy." there was more strength in his voice, as if Jim's pain had reached him. "I don't want to screw you up any more."

"You said you'd never leave me." Jim resorted to emotional blackmail.

"I'll still be with you, lover. In your heart."

"I want you by my side."

"Jim...I have to do this. Be careful. Take care of yourself ...don't each too much junk food."

"blair..." Jim whispered, clinging to the phone with both hands.

"I'll always love you." the click of the connection being broken echoed in Jim's ear. He leaned back and howled, sounding like a man in agony.

"BLAIR!!!"

 

Carefully the short man pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning on, hearing his bus being announced.

He'd used the ATM at the Cascade station - Jim would find that out, of course, but that wouldn't tell him anything. He might have picked up the location of the bus station, but Blair figured he was far enough away that he'd be long gone before Jim could get here... and then he'd never find him.

{And then Jim would be safe.} Schuller had kept his word. Jim was out of jail and could go back to his life now.

He hugged himself, feeling the bulky bandages that covered his chest, back and belly. Somewhere Compton had come up with clothes for him, heavy enough to hide his injuries.

He felt flushed and dizzy, and staggered a little, aware that people were looking at him, hoping they thought he was just another drunk looking for a place to sleep, and he continued walking determinedly. The bus stairs were a challenge, but he managed them and fell into a cushioned seat with relief.

The dark glasses hid his blackened, swollen eyes, but not the deep finger-shaped bruises along his jaw, and nothing could hide the pain he felt.

The older woman across the aisle leaned over, looking concerned.

"Are you all right?"

"I was in an accident." he said, punctuating the words with a small shrug. "I'm going to stay with a friend until I'm better."

"Were you badly hurt?"

"Banged up some. I'm really just sore." he sighed.

"If you need anything, just ask me." she said kindly.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, arms still tight around himself.

He would have to call the university first chance he got, so nobody reported him missing...a new pain rose and he squelched it down firmly. His career, his research...none of it mattered as long as Jim was safe.

There were so many ways bad cops could hurt a good one. Back up might be slow, he might be 'accidentally' caught in crossfire ...all perfectly reasonable, of course. Sad, but it happens.

Blair imagined that it was Jim's arms around him and managed to find sleep in that fantasy.

 

"Jim." a hand shook his shoulder and Jim bolted upright in his chair.

"Go home, Ellison." Simon stood over him.

"I've got a couple more leads to check out." Jim turned his attention back to the monitor in front of him.

Simon leaned over him and turned off the screen.

"I know the only reason you didn't quit was so you could use the resources here to find Sandburg." he didn't sound angry about it. "I know you hate being assigned to desk duty because of that fiasco with Schuller. But you have *got* to go home and rest, Ellison, or you're not going to be any good to anyone."

Jim rested his head in is hands.

"It's been two weeks, Simon. Where the hell is he?"

Simon shook his head and patted the other man's shoulder.

Blair had walked out of the hospital and disappeared off the face of the earth. There were no clues, no sightings, no traces of him.

Naomi hadn't been much help when Jim had finally reached her.

"He'll come back when he's ready, Jim. He's always been that way -- when he needs to be alone he just gets up and leaves."

She didn't know that they were lovers. Blair had wanted to tell her in person the next time she was in town. He'd assured Jim that she would be happy for them, if a little perturbed at first.

He didn't have the heart to tell her everything that had happened.

{Chickening out, Ellison.}

Now Jim took a deep cleansing breath and raised his head.

"You're right, Simon. I need to get some rest."

Simon nodded as Jim stood and gathered up his coat.

"And I don't want to see you in here this weekend." Simon added.

"I've got a few things I need to do at the loft." the way he said it made Simon perk up.

"Anything I can help with?"

"I'm redoing Blair's old room...putting in shelves and track lighting. Turning it into a study for him, for when he gets back."

Simon shook his head.

"He will come back, Simon." Jim repeated. "Blair wouldn't leave me forever."

{You didn't see what they did to him.} Simon thought, but he didn't speak it aloud. It would be better for everyone if Jim never found out about that.

Jim read his thoughts on his face and wondered if he should tell Simon that he knew. All the information - including pictures - had been in Blair's file at the hospital. Those words were seared into his brain, permanently, the way they had been carved into Blair's flesh.

That was what frightened him the most; that Blair had believed those words.

He just wanted a chance to tell him that it wasn't like that. It wasn't true.

 

{Finally.} Blair sat on a large rock, gasping for breath. The hot, dry air was a huge change from the dampness of Cascade, his lungs were having trouble adjusting. Of course, he hadn't been here in....nine years? Had it really been that long?

And now he was coming back, to the sanctuary he'd found all those years ago, for such a short time.

He smiled.

A time when he had learned so much, about life, about himself. He'd learned to love here. Learned to live, and to leave.

He sat for a long time, watching the sun go down in a blaze of pinks and purples across the desert sky. When it was cool enough he got up and began walking again, slinging his pack over his shoulder. His stitches hurt, but he checked them every day and there was no sign of infection, thanks to the bottle of antibiotics he'd managed to get prescribed in some hick town in Texas. Go to a clinic, complain of a sore throat, and get drugs. It had been too easy.

The cliff had been visible for over an hour, lit by the full moon above, but he knew that its closeness was misleading. The air here seemed to play tricks with your eyes, make you think something was right in front of you when it was really still miles away.

He had to be close enough now. He checked his watch, holding his arm high to see it clearly.

10:00.

They should be here soon. Assuming they hadn't changed the patrol schedule. But they were a people of habit.

He sat on another rock and got as comfortable as he could.

Some things in life were as dependable as the tides, he thought when he heard the distinct sound of motorcycles speeding over the rough terrain.

He stood and waved as soon as they came into sight.

They sped up and stopped a foot away.

Blair met their eyes without smiling. He didn't recognize them, but knew that he'd probably met them when they were younger.

"You're on Indian land." the teenager on the first bike said shortly.

"I know." Blair answered.

"This is restricted to the tribe." the older guy, about Blair's age, spoke now. They were both in jeans and jackets against the cool desert night.

"I'm welcome here." Blair said it with certainty. "Can you take me to Tomaatha?"

They exchanged a long look.

//Tomaatha is my *uncle*// Blair spoke fluently, gave an emphasis to the word that could only be interpreted one way - not as blood kin, but lover, in a very greek sense.

//We do not know of you// the younger spoke cautiously now, unused to white men who spoke his language and claimed a relationship with a tribal elder.

//Please take me to him// Blair smiled just a little, holding out his hands in a gesture that meant 'I carry no weapons'. It was an archaic gesture, seldom used anymore, but they recognized it.

"Get on." the older one spoke. Blair climbed on the back of the cycle carefully, still very sore. He looped the straps of his pack over his arm and tucked it to his chest, then put his hands on the rider's waist.

//Ready// he used the language because it felt good in his mouth. He'd missed the directness, the sweetness of it. It had a musical feel.

{I wish I had spoken to Jim in Navajo. He wouldn't have understood, but it would have felt nice.}

Thoughts of Jim were frequent and he welcomed them and the pain they brought, because it reminded him that he was alive.

The ride was rough, over hills and gullies and patches of rock. Blair clung to the boy, wincing as they bounced and bumped, worried about the stitches. {Toma will fix them if they come loose.} he thought with peaceful certainty.

There was no fear in his heart. Toma had said that he was always welcome here, and that meant only that. He would always be welcome here.

They followed a trail he vaguely recognized. His heart skipped a beat when they passed the quarry, and he smiled into the wind, his mind filled with memories.

Toma's place was isolated, at the back of a box canyon, surrounded by twisted mesquite and boulders that looked like some giant child had scattered them in a tantrum.

The bike slowed as they got closer. Blair looked over the driver's shoulder and saw what he expected to see, the sturdy cabin, a light visible in the window.

The driver stopped several yards away.

"You must go on your own."

Blair nodded, climbing down. The man stopped him with a look.

"I remember you. We called you Rabbit, didn't we?"

Blair grinned widely.

"Yes. I'm Rabbit."

"Toma gave you another name before you left." it wasn't a question.

Blair nodded.

"You may not remember me. I'm Alex FloatingMoon?"

"I remember you." Blair smiled widely. "You were afraid of the water and wouldn't swim with us."

Alex nodded.

"I got over it." he reached out and rested a hand on Blair's shoulder in the straight-armed gesture of welcome. "I look forward to hearing your new name."

He revved the cycle and they sped away.

Staring up at the house Blair saw the door open, and a figure was backlit by the light that oozed out.

With a deep sigh he began trudging up the path.

 

Jim listened to the drums and pounded his hammer in time with them, not pausing in his efforts.

Blair's things were piled in the living room, creating a huge mess, but he didn't care. He'd move the clothes upstairs and then put the rest on the shelves he was installing on the two sides of the room. He'd given the bed to the Salvation Army, they had picked it up this morning.

When Blair came back he would know where he was supposed to stay.

 

"Rabbit." the voice was just as strong, as musical as he remembered. "You've come back."

Blair stood nervously, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling like an errant child before a disapproving parent.

//So come here// the arms he remembered opened and he threw himself into them, the scent so familiar it was almost painful.

After a long embrace Toma gently pushed him away and studied his face.

//What hurts?// he asked, seeing the signs of strain that no-one else would have noticed, except maybe Jim.

//Everything// Blair put his hand to his heart and his eyes filled with tears. Here he could cry.

"Come inside." wrapping an arm around him, Toma took his pack and led him into the warmly lit cabin.

"So I left." Blair wiped his eyes again. He was sitting on Toma's bed in a nest of furs against the cold, his clothing stored in a trunk. He wouldn't wear it here.

Instead Toma had pulled out a breechclout and leggings, butter-soft leather, and tied his hair back with a piece of scrap. While Blair had talked to him he had braided a lock down the side of his face, tying it off and leaving the ends trailing.

The bandages around him had been checked and rewrapped, the wounds declared to be healing well.

Now Blair leaned against the warmth of the man behind him. Toma's arms came around him and held him tightly.

"I told you it would be difficult." he was scolding.

"You never said it would be this hard." Blair protested. "Nothing should be this hard."

"And who are you to decide that?" Toma turned him in his arms and Blair stared at his face, so well remembered, so different from any he'd known. Black eyes beneath heavy brows in a bronze face lined by years in the desert sun. Crooked nose, thin lips that smiled easily and laughed often.

This was the man who had relieved him of the fears his childhood had burdened him with, taught him to enjoy his body at last.

He leaned to the broad chest, arms curled close, wondering briefly why all of his lovers were bigger than he was.

Toma nuzzled his hair and then sighed.

"Sleep now, little Rabbit. The wolves can't find you here."

"Panther." Blair said it drowsily, Toma's words were like a magic spell, bringing dreamless sleep. "A panther hunts me now."

"Shhhh." Toma held him as he slipped into that welcome darkness.

Blair slipped back into the rhythm of reservation life without a glitch. Toma lived close the land -- no electricity, no plumbing, most of his food caught, killed or grown with his own hands.

After he'd rested long enough each day Blair worked beside him in his outdoor shop, shaded by the branches of an ancient mesquite tree that twisted around itself like a soul in the Inferno. Toma built furniture from the twisted wood. Blair polished the pieces he finished, sanded and scraped until his muscles protested and Toma teased him, calling him 'weak like a white man'. He was healing fast, physically.

"I should change your name to chipmunk. Little and puny and cute."

Blair threw the sanding block at him and he avoided it smoothly, as Blair had known he would.

They worked side by side through long days and slept beside each other through the cold nights.

Toma never touched him. They both knew that part of their relationship was in the past. But both enjoyed having someone in the bed with them, a warm body to snuggle to in the dark of night.

After a week Blair asked to go into town.

"I want to get to a computer and check some things."

Toma shrugged.

"So go." he turned back to his work.

Smiling at the remembered nonchalance, Blair got himself a skin of water and set out before it got too hot.

It was a three hour walk from Toma's home to the settled part of the res, where most of the tribe lived. He was bare- chested, only a token wrapping of bandages protecting the still- sensitive scars. Already his skin was browning from the stark sun, he was lucky, he'd always tanned and not burned. He knew that soon his hair would be streaked with gold.

Blair came upon tract houses first, faded and lonely- looking, often with small naked children playing in front. There were dogs everywhere - that was one of the reasons Blair had waited to come in. He wanted to smell more like this place before he had to pass one of them.

They rushed his legs, barking fiercely and he kept walking, knowing that they wouldn't hurt him as long as he didn't approach their homes.

He got several long looks, but no-one stared, it would have been rude. Besides, the gossip had probably already identified him.

At the center of town he headed for the council building, where he knew they would have what he needed.

"Rabbit!" a woman's voice called from across the street. Blair turned and allowed himself to be hugged by a very large woman in a cotton print dress. "Alex said you were back. Are you staying long?"

"As long as it takes. I need to borrow a computer for a few minutes?" he made it a question.

"Still confusing your centuries, are you?" she teased, leading him into the low, narrow building, referring to his preference for Toma's company when the older man lived as the tribe had a hundred years ago.

"I know exactly when I am." Blair responded, getting a loud laugh.

Introductions were made, greetings exchanged, memories shared. It was a happy day, seeing the people he'd played with as a teenager grown now, meeting their families, mourning those who were gone. No-one asked what had happened to him or where he had been. They simply welcomed him back.

It was fully dark by the time he'd made the round of homes he had been invited to - to skip one would have been an insult, and they all tried to feed him.

Henry Landadra came to him as he prepared to leave. He was older than Toma, nearing sixty, and he'd been kind to Blair when he was younger.

"I remember your fear of the dark." he said quietly. "Would you like a ride?"

Blair grinned and shook his head, switching languages to show respect.

//That fear is conquered.// he shouldered the bundle he'd gathered, gifts for him, things for Toma, a few things from the store.

//Then what are you running from now?//

Blair shook his head.

//It's a long story, Grandfather. Better suited for a winter's night before the fire.//

//Then I look forward to hearing it in the fall.// Henry patted his shoulder and left.

Blair walked into the darkness, feeling free.

He crept into Toma's bed hours later, his mind filled with the things he had seen. The coyote, the small stirring creatures that only came out now, the rattler too lazy to get to his burrow, now lying too cold to do more than threaten.

Toma woke.

"Tell me about it." he saw the excitement, the pleasure in Blair's eyes.

Blair did, in detail.

"My Rabbit has sharp eyes." Toma pulled him close. "It's too bad he cannot see his own heart."

Blair pondered the remark as Toma went back to sleep. He lay awake a long time, wishing briefly that Toma's lessons weren't so cryptic.

 

"I think I've got a lead." Jim spoke quietly, as if anyone could hear him in Simon's office.

Simon looked up, knowing right away which case he was talking about, seeing the set of his face.

"Tell me."

"Blair used an ATM in Seattle the day he disappeared, and then another in Nevada eleven days later."

"That was almost a week and a half ago." Simon commented, sipping his coffee.

"He must know I'm looking for him. He probably won't use it again." Jim sighed and sat heavily in a chair. "I've got to find him, Simon. Make sure he's okay."

{Make him come back.}

"Jim, maybe he just needs some time. What happened to him -- it was traumatic. Off the scale." Simon was shaking his head slowly.

"So? What, you think I should just let him go?!" Jim stared in disbelief.

"I didn't say that." Simon stood, hands idly rustling through the papers piled on his desk. "I don't now what to tell you."

"What's going to happen to Compton?"

Simon met his eyes sadly.

"He didn't do anything wrong, Jim. Sure, it would have been nice if he'd called me, but Sandburg wasn't officially under police protection."

"Fuck." Jim said it softly. Simon poured himself more coffee and turned to sit again, changing the subject.

"How did it go in court?" Jim had been spent the morning at the preliminary proceedings for the bankers they'd finally busted. Simon had given him the task force over the chief's objections, and Jim had agreed to stay out of the spotlight and let somebody else do the talking for him. With his recent arrest it would look even worse for him to be talking to the press.

Schuller was still claiming that Jim had tried to kill him, but said he'd let him off the hook as a gesture of goodwill, a policeman's brotherhood thing.

He said that Ellison wasn't such a bad guy, it had been the young punk he'd been hanging around that had led him astray.

Jim tried not to hear what Schuller said.

Blair had been gone for six weeks. The university had called to say they'd filled his position for the upcoming semester. They hadn't heard from Blair at all. Jim wondered what was going to happen to his dissertation, if he would get kicked out of the program.

He wanted to do something about that.

He made the appointment with trepidation. Could he make this man understand what was going on with Blair without revealing any secrets?

He gave it a good try. Explained the trauma Blair had undergone, the confused state of mind he'd been in when he left, the fact that he'd been injured. Tried to convey how important school was to Blair, that he would never have done anything like this except under extraordinary circumstances.

Dr. Hoffman listened patiently, watching his face, and understood more than Jim realized. But Jim didn't care, because he agreed to grant Blair a six-month sabbatical.

"If he hasn't contacted me by then I'm going to have to drop him." he warned Jim as he shook his hand.

"He will." Jim assured him. {I hope.}

 

"Little Rabbit." Toma climbed the last few feet of the path slowly and sat beside him as he watched the sunset. He sighed. "I'm getting too old to climb up here every day."

Blair looked at him, smiled.

"You're not even forty-five."

"Getting closer every day." Toma studied the slim young man beside him, noting the changes in him. Blair was relaxed, at ease, content with the place he had found here, and it showed. "How long are you going to hide here, Rabbit? Huddle in your burrow while the world passes by?"

Blair stiffened.

"You believed me when I told you what you would find if you left here." Toma stroked the braid of his hair back from his face, not letting Blair hide behind it. "Why can't you believe me when I tell you that this is not your place?"

"Because I want it to be." Tears filled Blair's eyes. "I want to stay here and be safe, Toma. The rest of it -" he gestured widely toward the sky. "- it hurts too much."

"Aren't the joys equal to the pain?"

Blair closed his eyes. Tears leaked slowly out. He leaned back on his arms, turning his face up to the sky and summoning images of Jim to his mind.

The way he laughed. His smile. The way his hands felt on Blair's body, the heat of his mouth.

"You've hidden yourself too well, Rabbit. No panther can find you now. You must leave a trail."

Blair opened his eyes.

"I'm not ready."

"Then, as always, we will wait until you are."

Blair smiled through his tears, remembering the many times Toma had spoken those words to him.

He'd arrived here after weeks of hitchhiking. It was right after his high school graduation - he'd wanted to travel a bit before starting school again. And get away from his mother, he admitted that now.

He walked blithely onto the reservation, having no idea that he wasn't supposed to be there. When he was found he was taken to the council, where he met Tomaatha EagleFlies. Shaman and contrary.

Toma had seen his hidden pain and responded to it, taking Blair into his home and eventually, when Blair had learned to trust him, had admitted that he wanted him, his bed.

They had progressed in small steps. Blair had said 'stop' and 'I'm not ready' so many times he was astonished now that Toma had put up with him. But every time he had gotten the same quiet answer.

&qu