Interlude II:
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Into this world we're thrown...
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Sitting cross legged on the couch, Blair poured over the
books spread out on the coffee table in front of him.
The soft light in the room dispelled the gloom and cold of
the dark February night.
In recent months the couch had been enlivened by the afghan
Lindy had crocheted, thrown over it now in a riotous splash of
color much like the young woman herself. Now Lindy looked up from
her book of seventeenth century woman poets, noting the way the
light glinted off the young man's curls.
She sighed quietly to herself. They had become close
friends in the six months they'd been rooming together.
The differences she saw now saddened her deeply. When she
had first met Blair he had been so full of life and enthusiasm
and energy. He'd sparkled with it.
Over the months she'd had to sit on the sidelines and watch
that sparkle flicker and begin to fade. And now it seemed gone.
Oh, occasionally it sparked and burned briefly -- when he was
excited about something or something happened to renew his
innocent joy -- but mostly he was sad.
He shivered, but didn't seem to notice that he was cold.
But he was always cold now.
Every since he lost Jim.
And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
Although he knew the room was cool, Blair didn't let himself
reach for the blanket. It wouldn't help. Nothing would ever help.
{I know he still loves me...he has to.} even as he thought
it his mind mocked him. {Why? Why does he *have* to? Because you
want him to so badly?}
He caught Lindy's second glance out of the corner of his
eye. She worried too much about him. He was okay. Growing up was
just harder than he'd thought it would be.
His heart rallied in the internal argument.
{Because he said he'd love me forever, and Jim doesn't lie.}
He refused to believe less of the man that he still knew was
his one true love. The man he *knew* would always carry his soul.
"Blair." The young man looked up, relieved to be
interrupted from his thoughts.
"When's the last time you heard from Eli about Jim?."
Blair shrugged, trying to make it look casual.
"It's been awhile."
Lindy frowned, angry with herself.
{Damn why did I remind him that Jim doesn't call him himself
anymore?}
When Jim had been presented with the opportunity to join the
Black Ops Division, what the military called 'an offer he
couldn't refuse', less than a week after his first visit to Blair
at the University, they had agreed the timing was suspicious, but
it was Jim's duty, and the work he'd been trained for, and they
promoted him to captain, something he had wanted before he met
Blair. So they decided they would just have to live with it, both
of them unhappy but determined.
And then all communication between he and Blair had come to
a screeching halt.
Two months after that call, the young man had finally broken
down and called Eli, because Jim had given him the other
officer's number to use in case of emergency. The lieutenant had
explained to Blair that any communication between Black Ops
members was automatically monitored. Jim would not be writing or
calling or visiting until his tour was up.
Lindy remembered well how devastated Blair had been.
Jim wasn't even allowed to contact Blair to *tell* him that.
Eli had promised to keep in touch with Blair, let him know
how Jim was doing, but the phone calls were few and far between.
And he adamantly insisted that Blair not call him.
Lindy shook her head at the cruelty of it. That stupid army
was crushing the spirit out of a beautiful young man.
She wished she could tell Blair to forget about Jim, that he
wasn't worth it, but she had seen how they had been together and
knew that no matter what else happened, Jim would always be
Blair's one and only true love.
The phone snapped her out of her introspection. Reaching
over for the receiver, she smiled at Blair as she spoke into it.
"Grand Central Station." One of her more amusing hobbies was
answering the phone as strangely as possible.
"Yes, hello." It was a voice she recognized from answering
the phone on other occasions, not exactly happy ones, but this
time it seemed more than coincidence. "Can I talk to the kid?"
She made a face and mumbled.
"Sure." And passing the phone to Blair.
"Yes, this is Blair..."
"This is Eli. Aredondo." he added unnecessarily.
"Oh. Eli. Hi. What's up?" Blair rolled his eyes. {What's
up? Good one Blair, why don't you ask him how the weather is
too}. He tapped his pen on his knee.
"I hate to call you like this, kid..." the ranger paused and
the pause grew until it was a silence.
Blair just sat there, getting more tense the longer the
silence grew. He dropped his pen in favour of the cord of the
telephone, winding it around and around his fingers.
"Are you there?" a hint of irritation in the man's voice.
Blair had a brief memory flash of him -- sitting across from he
and Jim in the IHOP, grinning and shaking his head. Jim's friend.
Willing to be Blair's as well, although he simply didn't
understand.
Didn't understand Jim and Blair.
"Yessss." Drawing the sound out, Blair shifted and stood,
beginning to pace. "You've got..." he hesitated. "You've got
news from Jim?" Suddenly, as though the first word had opened
the floodgates, Blair began to ask questions. "How is he? Is he
okay? Did he ask you to call me?" The last was asked in a soft
hesitant voice.
A sigh carries over a phone line as well as a sob.
"Not exactly. Look, kid...I'm sorry to have to tell you
this." another pause, but this one was loud, echoing with
terrible possibilities and potential anguish. "Jim's chopper went
down...almost four months ago. I just found out myself today, and
I had to wait until I got home to call you. There's been no
contact..." the words came out fast and clipped, as if Eli was
trying to put off Blair's response as long as he could.
Blair stilled unnaturally, paling.
Lindy looked up at him in concern. She couldn't remember a
time she'd ever seen him so still. She waited anxiously for a
clue from Blair's side of the conversation.
"Kid? Blair? I gotta know you're okay here, Jim would kill
me if I did this wrong...well, he would have..." suddenly the
older man realized the impact of his words and there was an
audible sound when he snapped his mouth shut.
"Jim's...He's..." Blair's voice trailed off and he took a
deep breath.
Tried again.
"Jim is dead?" His voice registered disbelief with a tinge
of panic.
Lindy stared, hands clasping the arms of the chair, unsure
if Blair was talking to her or the man on the phone.
Eli echoed him, taking a deep breath before trying to speak.
"Officially he's MIA. The satellite photos aren't sensitive
enough to identify bodies...all they have is the crash site."
"Bodies?" Blair's voice rose in pitch. He paused and then
choked on the next words.
"But there hasn't been any contact, kid. *Nothing* from the
team. If someone had survived..." It was like they were carrying
on two different conversations, each one talking to someone else.
Now thoroughly terrified, Lindy was standing beside Blair,
afraid to touch him, he was so stiff he might shatter.
"But you don't know for sure, right? What you're saying is
all you know is that the helicopter crashed and you haven't heard
from them. For all you know Jim is still alive. That is what
you're saying, right? You don't know if one of the bodies
belongs to Jim. I mean I would know, right, I would just *know*
if he were dead."
Leaning as close as she could without touching, Lindy
whispered to him.
"Of course you would."
But Dondo wasn't as encouraging.
"They can't even see the bodies, kid - Blair. So nobody
knows for sure. But he's had plenty of time to make it to the
nearest city, to get in contact. And no one has."
"But you don't know for sure. That's why he's listed as
MIA, right?" Blair hung tenaciously onto his hope.
"We don't know for sure." Eli spoke with as much firmness as
he could muster. Years of military double-talk made it quite a
lot. "Ellison is tough, kid. If *anybody* could make it out of
that mess alive -- if anybody is going to walk out of that jungle
six months from now with some wild story to tell -- it will be
him."
"Well, okay, then. I'm sure he's okay. He must be okay. I
would know if he wasn't." Blair said the words firmly. His heart
already believed them, his mind just needed some convincing.
Eli hesitated again and then spat out the next bit of news
angrily.
"Wait, kid. There's more. I know it sucks and I knows it's
not fair, but I tried and there's nothing I can do about it...He
didn't leave a will, so they're going to ship everything to his
father, I couldn't get any of it for you, I know he would have
wanted you to have it."
"That's okay Eli. He's in my heart, and he's coming back.
I don't need anything else." Blair almost sounded happy.
Lindy finally allowed herself to touch the young man,
placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.
{God, it sounds like he's clinging to a straw.}
"If I hear anything, I'll call you. I promise." Eli sounded
more worried by Blair's odd mood swing than he had been at the
beginning of the call. "Hey, kid, you're not alone there, right?"
"Nah, Lindy's here, man. My roommate. But it's okay. I'm
fine." he flashed her a weak grin. "Thanks again for calling,
letting me know why I haven't heard from him."
"He would have wanted me too. I'm...I'm sorry I haven't kept
in touch the way I should have."
"I understand, man. Life catches you sometimes, y'know? But
this is okay. Thanks again for calling. I'll be waiting to hear
from you."
"If you're okay, I need to go, we've got stuff to do
tonight."
Lindy was still holding Blair's shoulder when he said
goodbye and hung up, turning to her with a radiant smile that
took her breath away.
"Jim doesn't hate me." he announced, completely missing her
stunned gasp. "He's missing in action!"
Her mouth was hanging open and she was still trying to form
words when he gave her an impulsive hug and bounded into his
room, shutting the door behind him with frame-shaking enthusiasm.
***
Standing in the middle of his small room, the teenager
closed his eyes. Using a technique his mother had taught him when
he was younger -- she'd be happy for him, he knew, he should call
her soon -- he carefully opened the box of memories in his mind.
Mentally unwrapping them from the crinkly tissue that protected
them like the magical delights they were, he chose several
favorites and held them up to savor momentarily.
The room was cool but he was flushed.
The room was dim but light shone behind his eyes.
The room was silent but the voice of his love filled his
heart.
"Butterfly. See yourself." It urged.
Walking to the closet door, Blair opened it for the first
time in months. His housekeeping habits had made shutting it
permanently completely possible and he'd decided never to open it
-- and himself to that pain -- again.
But now it was okay.
Setting the angle just right, he sat on the edge of the bed
and chose another memory.
Naked, on Jim's bed. Blushing, trembling, afraid.
Jim behind him, his knees supporting Blair, his body warming
him, his hands framing his red face.
"What do you see?"
As the words echoed softly in his mind, Blair opened his
eyes.
And saw.
After a few minutes the vision blurred as his eyes filled
with tears, making them shine in the reflection.
He could see it. It was still there.
He was still Jim's Butterfly.
"No matter what," he whispered the promise as a child might,
"I'll love you, Jim. I know you'll come back to me."
Eventually he grew tired and had to lie down, but he watched
himself in the mirror as long as he could, and then dreamed of
Jim watching both of them.
***
It had been a wonderful couple of months. Big Sur was
always beautiful, but especially during the summer. Blair grinned
as he climbed the last stair and headed for his room. His Mom
always had a way of putting everything into perspective.
He was ready to start school, feeling fresh, physically and
mentally. The only cloud hanging over his head was Jim's
continued MIA status.
He'd had a call from Eli at the beginning of the summer and
expected another update soon. Although Naomi frequented rustic
areas, he'd managed to leave a number where the ranger could get
in touch with him if anything happened, but there had been no
word.
It was becoming normal.
As was the little ache in his heart that wanted the man he
saw behind himself in the mirror to really be there.
One day. He knew that Jim would come back to him.
Opening the door, he was unprepared for the bundle that flew
into him, wrapping him in a warm embrace before bounding away
again.
Blair laughed. "Hi, Lindy."
"Hey Blair, it's so good to see you. Gosh you look great!
You look like you had a fantastic summer, look at how dark you
are. Gosh I missed you. You know I wound up staying here,
working at the coffee house and taking a couple of classes, right?
Well, I can tell you this little old dorm room sure seems big when
you're on your own. It's just so great to have you back." The
small brunette drew her hands across her mouth, brown eyes
dancing above them.
"I'll just shut up now." Blair said for her, watching the
laughter fill the sparkling orbs as he parroted her standard
line.
Her hand came out to take his and she pulled him down to sit
next to her on the couch, suddenly serious.
"I have missed you, Blair."
"I've missed you too, Lindy, you're a good friend."
"So..." she trailed off, uncharacteristically unsure.
Blair laughed.
"Lindy Summers, at a loss for words. Let me mark the date!"
She batted him gently on the arm, grinning.
"I was just wondering..." She trailed off again, eyes sad.
Blair nodded, suddenly understanding.
"If I'd heard about Jim?"
She nodded gently.
"Eli's due for another call soon, but so far no news is good
news. If he'd had anything to report he would have already."
She laid her hand on his thigh.
"I'm so sorry."
He looked down at her small hand, white against his
blue jeans, for a long time. Finally picking it up in his own,
he gave it a squeeze.
"It's okay. He's coming back. I just don't know when."
Lindy nodded and didn't voice the doubt that she couldn't
keep from her eyes.
"You know I worry about you. Spent the whole summer
wondering if he'd made it back, what you were going to do if he
hadn't, or worse if you'd found out he was dead. You know I'm
here for you. You can lean on me, I've got broad shoulders. You
don't have to be strong."
Blair smiled as his roommate ran on in her usual manner. It
was comforting, the way some things never changed. He'd learned
to take peace from that at Big Sur. No matter where he or his
mother went, when they found themselves together again, the waves
still hit the beach, pounding in and out again. Their
relationship was intact; changing, never static, but essentially
the same. Deep and secure.
Now he saw that he and Jim had that same depth of
connection, one that time and distance couldn't erase.
Lindy's hand came up to frame his face.
"You sure you're okay?"
He laughed lightly.
"I'm fine, really. You shouldn't worry so much."
"Of course I worry, I love you."
Stricken dark eyes flew up to meet his startled blue ones.
Jumping up she began to head back towards the door to her
room, both hands once again covering her mouth.
"I uh, I...didn't mean to say that. Just forget I said
anything, okay Blair? Just pretend it never happened. In fact
why don't you go out and come back in and we'll just pretend that
you've only just come back..."
Blair watched as she reached the door, slipped into her room
and closed it behind her.
He sat for a moment, blinking, trying to absorb what she'd
said.
Standing, he began to pace around the small room, trying to
sort out the shifting dynamics between Lindy and himself. Of
course he couldn't forget it. Pandora had opened her box and
there was no closing it again.
Finally picking up his pack, he moved into his own room and
unpacked the few things he'd taken on the road with him. He
placed the picture of himself and Jim, now framed, on his desk,
running a finger across the figure of the larger man through the
glass.
Going through the notes he'd picked up from the front desk
he found one from the library. His interlibrary loan book had
finally come through a week ago and was now waiting for him.
Checking the time, he decided to go to bed and get the
Burton Journals in the morning.
***
The next morning he was up early. Lindy's door was still
shut and her purse was still on the coffee table, so she hadn't
gone anywhere. Sighing, he rubbed at his hair, which he'd let
grow over the summer. Naomi liked it like this.
The ends needed trimming.
Suddenly he wondered how Jim would look with a beard. If
he'd like Blair with one. Naomi's preferences ruled there as well
-- though she'd never try to force her son to change his
appearance, she wasn't fond of beards and had told him many times
that his face was too pretty to hide it behind a bunch of hair.
Which had led to him shaving in a creek with a straight
razor in an icy stream most of the summer, but that was okay if
it made her happy.
He was stalling and he knew it. Quickly tying back his hair,
he knocked lightly on his roommate's door.
"Lindy?" she was usually up at the same time as or before
him, but he didn't want to wake her. But more than that he didn't
want her to think he was mad at her.
There hadn't been time yet -- and he hadn't felt ready --
to process what she had said. It was such an odd idea that he was
having trouble believing she'd even said it.
But the sound of her voice when she answered, half-afraid,
meant she had.
"I'm up, Blair."
"I'm going to the library. That book I wanted finally came
in." he paused, thinking she would offer to join him. They would
have coffee and people-watch and make bad jokes and everything
would be back to normal.
"Okay." it was all she said, but that one word said so much
more.
So much that he didn't want to hear.
***
The library was empty at this hour. Picking up the book he
got a mild fright because it took so long for them to find it --
apparently it just wasn't as important as he'd thought. Choosing a
table by a window up on the third floor, he settled himself.
Opening a new notebook and laying it out neatly, he uncapped his
pen and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.
He'd started searching for information on Jim's wild sensory
experiences as soon as he got to the school. Months of work had
led to nothing but UFO reports, medical journals and phoney
psychics, with a dribble of science fiction.
At last he'd found, in a battered archeological report from
the early 1950's, a single-paragraph reference to the work of a
Sir Richard Burton, an English explorer. The reference had been
somewhat mocking, but he had run with it. More searching found
more references. Most of them were unflattering, ranging from
mildly doubtful to outright scornful. When he'd found a copy
available for public use -- at an obscure English university --
he'd immediately requested it.
They told him it would take a while to get it, but that had
developed into almost six months.
{Almost as long as he's been gone.}
Opening his eyes, wondering what he was going to find, Blair
picked up his pen and began to read.
Almost six hours later he leaned back in the chair. He'd
begun to hunch over, trying to make out the tiny print, and his
eyes ached. Rubbing them with one hand, he mentally reviewed what
he had learned in his four readings of the text.
{A few more and I'll know it by heart.}
A deep breath and he flipped through the half-filled
notebook, pages crammed front-and-back with thoughts, facts,
theories...
{That might be a good idea.}
Standing and stretching, listening to his body pop, he
heard his mother's voice in his head and grinned.
{You're too young to sound like that! Go outside and play in
the sunshine, sweetie.}
Sitting again, he began gathering up his things.
***
"You've been reading that book for two weeks now, Blair. Are
you going to tell me what's in it? I mean, you don't have to, but
I'd like to know and if it's not some big secret or something I'd
really like to know -" Perched on the arm of the couch, Lindy bit
her words off as Blair laughed out loud. Turning to her in
excitement, his eyes glowed.
"It's only the discovery of the rest of my life."
Grinning at his own hyperbole, waited for her answering grin
before continuing.
"The summer I spent with Jim we found out he had these...
sense things happening. It was really cool. He could like see
and hear and smell things that were far away and really quiet. So
I figured I would see if I could find a historical reference. And
I did. This is a book by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer, not
the actor. It's all about these precivilized guardians or
watchmen he called Sentinels They had a genetic advantage, all
five senses enhanced, and I'm not a 100% sure, but I think Jim
did too, I mean I know he used to complain when I made stuff too
spicy, but I just thought it was because he was used to all that
bland army food, but maybe...I'm not sure about touch though, I'd
have to do some field experiments with him for that..."
Trailing away, Blair blushed suddenly as a few "experiments"
he could do to test Jim's sense of touch filled his mind, and
began to work on his penis.
"Uh, I don't mean to rain on your parade or anything here
Blair. But what exactly do you mean by 'enhanced senses'?"
"You know, the ability to hear things that are really soft,
or see things that are really far away, taste all the different
stuff in the water. I bet there's no end to the things you could
use enhanced senses for. Man, I have got to get Jim into a lab."
"It sounds a bit like Superman." Lindy was trying not to
sound too sceptical, but the kid was sounding more than just a
little eccentric.
"I bet I could do my Masters on Burton's book and then my
thesis on modern Sentinels."
Blair was beginning to pace up and down in the small room,
hands were flying in all directions, his hair beginning to work
it's way out of it's neat ponytail.
"Your thesis? Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself
here?"
Stopping mid-pace, he looked her directly in the eye.
"I'm not joking here Lindy, and I'm not crazy. Jim had
these enhanced senses, in fact I believe a lot of people may have
one or two and just don't know that's where they come from. It
has to be genetic. I mean people like perfume developers. You'd
have to have a real sensitive nose for that kind of work. Just
wait until Jim comes down here again, I'll *show* you."
"Hmm..." Lindy thought for a moment. "Like a wine taster?"
"Yes!" Bounding over to her, Blair caught her up in a happy
embrace. "Yes, that's it, you've got it."
Laughing, he turned his head at the precise moment that she
shifted hers and their lips collided.
Mouths open to begin with, the bump glided into a kiss.
Eyes closing as warm sparks shot down his body, centering in
his groin, Blair held tightly and continued the kiss.
Kissing Lindy was nothing like kissing Jim. Her mouth was
soft, pliable, and it tasted sweeter. She was shorter than him,
so that he had to tilt his head down instead of up.
Their tongues played together for a few moments, until he
let his hands slide down her sides and the sudden presence of
soft curves intruded into his consciousness and exactly what he
was doing, was enjoying to the point of sporting a hard erection,
slammed into him and he pulled away as if burned.
Blushing hotly, blue eyes impossibly wide, his hands flew to
his mouth, pressing against his lips.
Easily reading the self-accusation in his eyes, Lindy
stepped forward to place a gentle hand on his arm.
"Blair, don't..."
He pulled away from her and began pacing again. The
movement heavy and joyless now.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeated the words
over and over again and she wondered who he was apologizing to;
her, himself, or the absent Jim.
"Blair, it's okay. It was only a kiss."
"But I *liked* it."
A gentle half laugh.
"Well, that's flattering, at least. For a moment I thought
I had morning mouth or something." She tried to tease him gently
out of his misery.
"Oh, Lindy, oh no. I'm sorry, I didn't even think how this
would affect you. I mean..." He trailed away unhappily.
Moving closer to him, she looped her arm through his and
moved them both to the couch.
They sat in silence for awhile, Blair sitting stiffly,
watching the shadows of the leaves dancing in the wind move
across the far wall.
The silence stretched between them, growing more tense with
each passing moment until it was so tight the wrong word would
make it snap.
"I know how much you love Jim. I know you would never
betray him, and I know you would never deliberately hurt me." She
said gently, easing carefully through the tension.
And suddenly the air softened around them again, both
breathing easier.
Those had been the right words.
Sitting back against the couch, Lindy drew Blair into her
arms and gently ran her hand through his curls, softly stroking
his forehead.
"It's okay to be lonely. And it's okay to miss him. But
what are you going to do if he never comes back?"
Blair jerked like he'd been shot, but he stayed where he
was. Resting his head lightly on her shoulder, he accepted the
comfort almost grudgingly.
"You have to face the possibility."
"He has to come back. I've just discovered what he is."
knowing his argument was an absurd one, it just seemed wrong to
make the protest using their love when he had just kissed Lindy.
"I'm s-!" Lindy cut him off, putting her hand against his mouth.
"Don't apologize for kissing me. Please. I enjoyed it, you
enjoyed it. Nobody was hurt. It was just a kiss."
It was warm in the room and he could smell her faint
perfume, felt his body respond to it.
Feeling the sudden charge in the small room, acutely aware
of the breath pulling in and out around her hand, Lindy gave the
young man in her arms a quick squeeze before standing. Balancing
her hands on her hips she appraised him critically.
"This situation calls for pizza. A cheesy, greasy,
pepperoni-laden cholesterol heavy pizza.
"No pepperoni."
Lindy looked horrified.
"What do you mean no pepperoni? It's not pizza without
pepperoni."
"That's what Jim said too." Blair smirked. "But there was
no pepperoni on our pizza." A hint of sadness crept back into his
eyes at the mention of his missing lover. "He said that he
really really must love me if he was willing to eat pizza without
pepperoni for me."
Grabbing her purse with one hand, and Blair's arm with the
other, she started to hustle him out of the dorm.
"Fine, fine. But it will be swimming in cheese. And you're
going to have to explain this, what did you call it? Sentinel?
thing to me."
"Sentinel thing! Geez Lindy, this *thing* has been around
for millennia, protecting the tribe, living with a genetic
advantage, it's just incredible. I bet all our man-made
"improvements" marked the downfall of the Sentinel..."
Continuing to expound and elucidate on newly formed
theories, the young man bounced along after her.
He stopped at the doorway, looking out through the window
across the room.
The trees rocked gently in the breeze, and Blair wondered if
the wind danced through the trees where Jim was too.
************
The leaf was green.
Dark green. Veined with almost-black threads that stood out
clearly, as it danced in the restless breeze.
With an effort Jim Ellison -- Enquery -- pulled his focus
back from the leaf. It was the furthest leaf on the topmost
branch of the highest tree in their forest.
The Chopec forest.
That's not what they called it, but his American-bred mind
still required some sort of name and so that was it. He'd been
here two seasons, as they measured time. At first he had been
confused, healing from his injuries in the crash. Now he was as
much a part of this world as they were.
The sound behind him was too slight for any but the most
advanced jungle animal to hear. Fortunately, that's what Jim was
now.
"How many leaves, Enquery?"
"More than I have time to count." Standing and turning
fluidly, he faced the Chopec medicine man. "I'm going to scout
the lower left tonight. If they try to come through again, that's
where it will be."
He began walking, the smaller man falling silently into step
beside him as they headed back for the village.
The wind kept the trees gently rustling. The noise was
distracting to Jim, but not as much as it had been when he first
realized he could hear it.
Now, although it was distracting, he welcomed it, because a
nice wind made everyone more comfortable and kept the village
happier.
"How are Neri and the baby?" he asked after the mother and
baby the medicine man had spent the day with.
A graceful shrug as the man rolled his shoulders, his
straight black hair falling to them evenly.
"Better than yesterday, perhaps not as good as tomorrow."
"I wish there was something I could do for them."
"While you are scouting the path tonight, look for this
plant." Pulling a bit of dried twig from his pouch, he let Jim
take it and sniff it. "It smells much stronger when fresh. It
used to be common, but I have not found it in many years."
Handing the piece back, Jim nodded.
"I'll look for it."
"You've learned your place well, Enquery."
Jim snorted, half-angrily, and shook his head.
"Don't start that with me, Incacha. My brains may be
scrambled, but I really don't want an explanation for what's
going on with me."
They had arrived at the village edge. The small group of
young children that constituted the village's wealth gathered to
greet them happily. Walking among them, Jim lifted the smallest,
three-year-old Hadsu, to his shoulder and tickled her, grinning
as she squirmed.
"You know the truth." Incacha spoke from behind him, the
children greeting him with more restraint and respect.
"Yeah. You did this to me."
"That's not what I told you."
After so many moths the argument had lost it's sting and was
now repeated almost affectionately.
"That's what I heard."
"Then you weren't really listening."
"There's just so much to listen to." the grin faded and he
excused himself from the children, going to his hut to work on
his bow and prepare for the night.
Slipping between the trees as quietly as a shadow, James
Ellison moved swiftly. But even as he flowed through the
darkness, his eyes dilated to take advantage of the faint
moonlight that filtered down through the trees, he kept an eye
out for the plant Incacha had described. While losing an infant
was sad, losing the mother would be a tragedy for the village.
She already had two children past the most dangerous ages and was
young enough to have several more.
Once this mindset had seemed cruel to him, but now he
understood it.
Pausing on the edge of a small clearing, he listened to his
own heartbeat. Sometimes it called to him. Promising secrets that
he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
It was easiest for him to be out at night. Since the day he
woke in Incacha's hut and the man had soothed him with a spicy
tea, he had ignored that call.
But it would sneak up on him in his sleep. Images --
cluttered, unfocused, mismatched -- filled his dreams and he woke
frequently bathed in sweat.
Reaching out for something.
Someone?
Crouching beside a tree just outside the clearing, caused by
the fall of an ancient tree, James Ellison followed the
instructions of his medicine man and calmed his breathing until
the ghosts of his dreams crawled back to the places they hid in
his mind.
"Shouldn't I try to remember?" he had asked one night,
before he moved to his own hut. Incacha still thought he needed
watching for the head wound he had suffered.
The shaman found him after the crash, brought him to the
village, nursed him slowly back to health, cared for him and
vouched for him with the tribe.
"You are not ready for these memories, Enquery." urging the
bigger man to return to sleep the shaman had left his own bed of
leaves to crouch over him, hands on his knees as he spoke.
"Believe your body. It does not want to remember, do not fight
it."
Although it was contrary to his nature, Jim now sat for as
long as it took, until the sensation faded from his mind. As it
left his heart slowed and he felt strong again.
Whatever it was, he was beginning to be afraid of
remembering it.
Fading again into the jungle, he knew that he was missing
something...some part of himself. Some part of his soul.
Some essential part that even Incacha couldn't replace.
***
He'd never know there were so many sounds.
Not until he'd come here.
They filled the night and filled his ears and sometimes it
was all he could do to pull his attention back to just one.
One sound. An important sound.
There - twenty yards ahead, two to the right.
Making a quick hand gesture, Jim indicated the spot to the
men beside him. They melted into the forest, almost as quietly as
he did. Incacha remained beside him. He had spent the day casting
the spells and saying the prayers that would help them tonight,
as the enemy approached the pass, to try again.
This was the tenth confrontation since James arrived.
It fit the mission he had been assigned, as much as he
remembered of it, and so he led the villagers to defend this, the
only clear way into their territory.
No matter where the war, no matter what they were called --
Nazis, Charlie, the Cong -- they were the enemy.
That was all the name he needed.
After six months of fighting he was still confident in their
ability to hold the pass, although his army consisted of
thirty-one tribal men, almost a third of them teenagers. His
scouting abilities and his sensory advantages let him put them in
the best place at the best time, protecting them while still
letting them get the drop on the enemy.
Tonight the battle was eerily silent to normal ears. The
thwip of an arrow, a gasp or grunt of pain, and the padded thump
of a body falling to the leaf-covered jungle floor.
Spotting a man in camouflage gear who had managed to sneak
past his defenses, Jim set himself on this one, circling around
him. Even with night-vision goggles, the man didn't stand a
chance. A single blow to the back of the head and Jim left him
unconscious on the ground, feeling that it was unnecessary to kill
him.
They were all well-equipped, with expensive gadgets and the
proper clothing, but they didn't stand a chance in this kind of
running battle.
The Chopec had long since perfected the guerrilla tactics
these men thought *they* were using.
Wondering briefly who was backing this operation -- and why
-- James returned to Incacha's side, where he remained for the
rest of the night, watching, his men stationed around them, until
the sun rose and they could begin the laborious process of moving
the bodies from their territory.
His friend was warm at his side, and James wondered briefly
that he would notice that. It wasn't really that he was noticing
Incacha's warmth, but that it was different than what his body
expected to find there.
Again, the sensation that something was missing rose in him
and he fought it down, feeling overwhelmed, and then Incacha's
hand was on his arm, squeezing, the fingers biting deep, and the
pain grounded him again.
"What was that?" James asked harshly, when it had gone.
The shaman met his eyes with calm dark steadiness.
"When you are ready, you will know."
The words left Jim frustrated.
***
Throwing his pen across the room in frustration, Blair
stood. Arms tight around his middle, he padded over to the window
looking into the night, only to see himself reflected back.
Watching the curvy figure of his roommate reflected in the
glass as she bent to retrieve his pen from the floor near her
door, he felt his body tug gently towards her.
Hugging his thin ribs tighter, he scrunched into himself,
watching her approach.
Holding out the pen to him, she met his eyes in the window,
even though he couldn't even see the color of them, he knew
exactly what expression would be shinning in them.
Friendship, concern, warmth...
He didn't want to admit what else he saw there. He was
already confused enough; he belonged to Jim, but although his
heart was steadfast, his body wavered under the weight of
separation and uncertainty.
He closed his eyes as his dream of the night before flooded
back into vivid memory.
He'd been making love to Jim. Actually *making love* to
him.
Something they had never done.
Face to face, he bent over his lover to kiss him when Jim's
face morphed into Lindy's.
Crying out, he woke up, hand covered in sticky liquid, still
grasping his fading erection.
He had turned onto his side, curled into himself and cried.
He started, body tense, as a warm hand slid along his arm,
breaking into the memory, and he turned to her.
"Your pen." Smiling at him, she placed the pen into his
hand, wrapping his fingers around it.
As he continued to stare at her, she lifted one hand to
brush it against his cheek. Her eyes grew softer and she crooned
gently, almost rocking with him.
Closing his eyes again, against the flare of heat that
coursed through his body, he jerked out of her grasp, still
hugging himself tightly.
This was wrong. These feelings were wrong. He was
betraying Jim. He had been missing for less than a year and
already Blair was betraying him.
The feeling of the warm slickness of the tight passage from
his dream stirred his cock to fullness.
{Stop that!} He ordered himself. {It's a trick. You don't
even know what that feels like!} With a sound of distress he made
a break for the safety of his room.
Calling after him as he reached the door, Lindy's voice was
heavy with what she didn't say.
"I'm here if you need me, Blair..."
Leaning his head against the closed door he whispered, over
and over.
"I don't. I don't. I don't. I don't."
Watching the door close, Lindy stood for several moments
in the yellow lamplight.
Her heart hurt so much.
For herself as well as for Blair. She kept telling herself
that he was taken, a man in love, but everyday that she watched
the light die just a little in those expressive blue eyes, she
fell a little more in love with him.
Something was going to break soon, she could feel it.
"Oh, Jim." she whispered sadly, "Where are you?"
**********
Immersed in the night noises, James twitched when he heard
the twig break behind him. He had been listening closely to the
jungle, trying to identify the calls of all the little things
that came out at night
"Enquery?"
The voice was quiet and soft, coming from someplace behind
and to the left of him. "Where are you?"
As his mind translated automatically, he turned and pushed
aside the branches that hid him from below. Dropping gracefully
to the ground, he landed, rolling with the impact and bouncing
back to his feet.
Standing very still, as the people of the jungle learned to
do early on, the young woman waited for him. He knew she couldn't
see a thing in this blackness, so far from the fires of the
village.
"Alita? Is something wrong?"
There was nothing wrong. He knew that. But he had to ask,
just to be sure. And to give himself something to say.
The young woman had begun approaching him more than a month
ago. It made him uncomfortable for reasons he didn't try to
understand.
He'd been here nearly a year. Some of the villagers were
beginning to encourage her, thinking that he should settle down
as one of them. Even if he didn't marry her, that would be okay.
A child of his would be greatly valued by the tribe. Incacha had
tried to explain all of this to him.
"I brought you food." holding out a flat woven basket, she
offered fresh fruit, harder to find at this time of year.
"Thank you."
"May I sit with you?" without waiting for an answer she
planted herself on the knobby exposed root of his lookout tree
and tugged on his arm.
Reluctantly he took a piece of the fruit and sat on the
ground before her. Her small hand ran through his hair. It was
short and stiff with dirt and sweat, he'd hacked it off again
with his Bowie knife only this morning. The hand moved slowly
along his face, cupping his cheek, one finger dipping to press
along his lips. Grasping her hand gently in his, he pulled it
away from his face. It was warm and sweaty.
Focussing on her heartbeat, he realized she was nervous.
It was dark. Dark enough that she probably couldn't make
out his expression.
"Alita."
Trying to figure out what to say next, how to explain the
feeling that hit him every time he thought of making love to
someone, he felt her stiffen.
"You reject me, Enquery. I am not good enough to bear your
child."
"It's not that..."
Ignoring him, she began to hastily gather together the fruit
into her basket. Stopping her with a hand on her arm, he spoke
again. She was a gentle woman who had a kind heart and it
disturbed him to hurt her.
"It's not you Alita, it's me."
"You mean you can't..." She trailed off unable to believe
that their guardian would be flawed in such a way.
"Yes, no. Not like what you mean, but I still can't."
closing his mouth abruptly, he turned his head, effectively
dismissing her
He was uncomfortable talking about the strange feelings that
filled him. It was like he wasn't whole. A vital piece of
himself was missing, but he didn't know what piece, or how to
look for it, or where to start.
Standing, stretching, climbing, melding into the tree, he
resumed his sentry post, following Alita's progress as she
returned hastily to the village.
He would work on the puzzle at another time, tonight he
needed to focus on the forest.
***
Alita avoided him for several days after that, but, at the
urging of her parents, which Jim was privy to because of his
hearing, she soon resumed her quiet, peaceful pursuit.
Thinking she would wear him down over time.
"Enquery? would you like to come and sit by our fire? My
mother has made *pol*." the soft voice caught him in a rare
moment of peace, sitting outside his hut, knees drawn up, arms
around them, staring up at the sky.
"No." he said quietly, firmly. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever the problem is, time heals all wounds. You're here
now. A part of us. Will you not *be* a part of us?"
"It's not like that." finally turning his attention to her,
he met her eyes, then let his own travel over her. It was warm,
and she wore only a wrapped piece of cloth that hung low over her
hips. Her breasts were firm and small, her body soft and curving.
The inky blackness of her hair was echoed in her eyes.
There was no sane reason for him to turn her away.
She wanted it. The tribe wanted it.
But no matter how long he looked at her, there was no
response from his body. And he could remember having sexual
feelings, even having sex...it didn't make sense and somehow it
got tangled up with those strange feelings of loss and...and...
it frightened him.
"I'd like to be alone now." simply said, the words were a
dismissal and she took them as such.
The night had lost its beauty and the stars their appeal. As
soon as she left he crawled inside into his nest of boughs and
furs and closed his eyes, letting the stirring of the leaves
soothe him to sleep. As he got closer his control slipped and his
hearing went wider than he intended. A familiar voice, sounding
angry, woke him slightly.
"You must leave Enquery to himself." Incacha. The medicine
man *was* angry.
"If he will leave us...we need his child. For the village."
Alita's father argued forcefully. "I am willing to give my
daughter to him unwed...what more does he want?!"
"He is not for her!" the words cracked through the air.
"Enquery's soul is no longer his own, and if you continue to
remind him of this he will *die*."
Expecting scoffing sounds and disagreement, Jim sat suddenly
in his bed.
The others were silent.
Taking this very seriously.
Lying back down, the tribal guardian wondered how much of
Incacha's magic was real.
***
Jim waited.
Waited for the right time.
But it never seemed to come. The right time to ask Incacha
what he had meant, that night he spoke to Alita's father.
Then he waited for a time that seemed close to right.
Just a little bit right.
Now he was just hoping for ten minutes uninterrupted.
Catching the Shaman in his hut very early one morning, he
blocked the door with his larger body and stood his ground.
"Tell me what you meant."
Incacha just tilted his head and let his hair slide over his
shoulders. Jim felt a sudden stirring in his lower belly and
flinched.
"Tell me what's wrong with me, Incacha." this time he
growled the words. This unexpected reaction to his mentor was
unnerving, to say the least.
"You are alone, Enquery."
"I could do something about that."
"Could you?"
The shaman faced him now boldly. It made Jim more
uncomfortable and he took a step backwards.
"You cannot even face your reaction to me, my friend. How
will you face a woman in your bed?"
"That's the catch." with a harsh laugh Jim forced himself to
hold fast when the shaman stepped another step closer.
"A woman. You're a man. That's why I'm uncomfortable."
"If only you knew." the medicine man sighed and the
confrontation drained from him. "When you return to your world,
remember this conversation."
Jim just stared after him as the Shaman ducked around him
and walked into the forest. He was muttering quietly under his
breath and Jim listened, unabashed.
"The price of keeping you would be too high, my Enquery. If
I had found you first....
The next time a woman approached Jim in the village, he was
overwhelmed with a sense of loss so strong that his legs trembled
and his head felt light. As if he sensed this distress from
across the village, Incacha came to him and led him back to his
hut and sat silently beside him until it passed.
Grateful for his presence in the sudden fog, Jim let the
Shaman hold his hand and talk to him until the feeling passed.
It occurred to him, as he rode the waves of desolation that,
if he were ever to consider a man as a lover, Incacha would be
that man.
Just the thought brought another surge of that desperately
empty, lonely feeling that made him want to curl up into a ball
and sob his heart out.
Even if he didn't know why.
***
Pouring himself another glass of punch, Blair turned to face
the small room crammed full of people.
Lindy, bless her heart, had thrown him a surprise birthday
party. He hadn't told her about the gifts Jim had bought for
"all the birthdays he'd missed" but somehow she had known that it
was going to be hard on him.
The small room was cramped, noisy and overly warm, the way
rooms got when they were crammed full of bodies. But he was
having a good time. This was the first chance he'd had to mope
by himself. Wanting to recapture that almost giddy feeling of
having a good time, he plastered a large smile on his face and
turned to the person next to him.
"Alan, right?"
Tall and reedy, he smiled down at the smaller man. "Yeah,
we're in psych together. Nice birthday party man."
Genuinely grinning now as he pointed out Lindy, "It's all
her doing. "I just live here." he paused and then shook his head.
"I'm nineteen. Is that weird or what?"
"Yeah, it is weird. You are like, *so* young."
"Not as young as I used to be, man." hearing the words come
from his mouth, Blair blushed.
Laughing at the comment, Alan put a hand on Blair's arm.
"Now there's a leading comment if I ever heard one."
Feeling the effects of whatever had been added to the punch,
Blair looked down at the hand on his arm, and smiled teasingly.
"And where would it lead you, man?"
Smiling warmly, letting his eyes drift languidly down to
beautiful lips, Alan parted his own as he smiled and licked them
slowly.
"Well, I haven't seen your *friend* on campus lately. I
would imagine you're feeling a little lonely."
Blair caught his breath, suddenly aware of just how warm and
crowded the room was.
Alan's smile became a little more predatory when Blair
didn't pull his arm away.
"Maybe we should get together sometime next week and...
compare notes."
"Are you lonely too?" the words spilled uncontrolled from
Blair's mouth and he flicked his eyes down, over the other man's
body, seeing the unmistakable signs of arousal.
For him.
A response flickered through him, tentative, hesitant, but
real. Not as strong as what he felt for Lindy before he put a lid
on it...Looking up again, he caught Alan's green eyes on him and
licked his own lips.
Nostrils flaring, Alan shifted slightly, the move subtle,
unnoticed by the rest of the revelers.
His groin brushed across Blair's hip, erection unmistakable,
as was the hungry look in his eyes.
"You're a beautiful man, Blair."
It was like a bucket of ice water dumped over him. With a
gasp Blair stepped away, shaking his head slightly.
"Hey - man, look, I'm sorry...I, I didn't mean to lead you
on or anything..."
Hand still on his arm, Alan followed, his body warm and
suggestive against Blair's side.
"I don't think you're leading me on, Blair. I think you're
lonely, maybe a little confused. I can help you." His suggestive
tone left Blair no doubt as to what form that help was intended
to be offered in.
In the corner of his eye Blair saw Lindy, slow dancing with
a guy from a class they shared. She looked over at him and he saw
concern on her face.
She knew what was happening.
Placing his hand over the one on his arm, Blair tugged
gently on it.
Smiling widening, Alan turned his hand around, wrapping it
around Blair's.
"How about a dance? I know you're not in the closet." The
smile widened.
"Um, sure." Gently disengaging his hand, Blair wouldn't
look at the man as he spoke. "I don't know, man. I'm not sure I'm
ready."
"Hey, it's only a dance." Grabbing his hand again, the
English Student led Blair into a small empty space on the floor.
Unwillingly Blair allowed himself to be dragged there, not
wanting to make a scene and spoil the party. Wrapping his arms
around the smaller man, Alan pulled him up snugly against his
body, rocking his hips slightly into Blair's as they moved to the
music.
"You feel really nice, birthday boy."
"Alan...gimme some room to breathe, man." The smaller man
complained, trying to pull loose.
"I could do *this* all night." the word was punctuated by a
harder thrust of his hips.
"Hey!" Now Blair did pull away. "I - Alan, man, you..."
A quick survey and Blair realized that he was hard and
aching, his body yearning for the contact the other man had
offered.
"C'mon Blair," the larger man tried to regain his hold.
"You know you want this too."
"I don't want to." whispering, Blair started to shake. He
wrapped his arms around himself. Lindy was working her way
between people to reach him.
Hands reaching out to frame his face, Alan pressed one more
time.
"Sure you do. We're just two lonely souls taking comfort
in each other, what's wrong with that?"
"I'm sorry, man, but I don't want to!" Suddenly the room
closed in on him and his vision swam. "I want JIM!" With a lunge
he pulled himself away from Alan and stumbled toward his room.
His eyes filled with tears and his steps became staggers, but he
reached the door and flung himself through it, slamming it behind
him, leaving Alan to Lindy's not-so-tender mercies.
"For Christ's sake Alan, did you have to cruise the kid like
that?" Pulling herself up to her full height, Lindy was still a
head shorter than him, but was it was an intimidating sight
nonetheless. Alan took a furtive step backward, reminded of a
bear protecting its young.
Lindy followed, finger wagging at his chest, face crimson
with anger.
"Haven't you ever heard that no means no?! It's his
birthday for crying out loud - hell of a nice way to top it off.
Why couldn't you have just backed down once he said he wasn't
interested, I mean you're a good enough looking guy, you can't be
that hard up that you have to pick on a lonely kid who needs a
friend a hell of a lot more than he needs a lover right now. I
think you should go."
Those were the last words Blair heard as he crawled into his
bed, fully dressed, and pulled the covers over his head, to curl
around a pillow and bawl like a baby.
Knowing she was all over the place, but unable to focus her
thought into a coherent seamless tirade, she took hold of Alan's
arm and dragged him to the door.
"Did you have a jacket or anything? No? Good. Don't come
back!"
Letting the door slam closed with a satisfying noise, she
turned back to thread her way to Blair's room, ignoring the looks
people were tossing her way. Not everyone had witnessed the
entire floorshow, but enough that she was sure it would be all
over campus by morning.
Knocking to warn him she was coming in, Lindy didn't wait
for an acknowledgement. Closing the door softly behind her she
stood against it.
"Blair? Come on, buddy. Alan's gone. I doubt he'll be
bothering you again. Why don't you come back out to the party."
"Go 'way." the voice was surly and choked with tears. "I
mean it, Linds. I want to be alone."
"Blair..." sighing heavily she spoke quietly before opening
the door and slipping back out. "Okay. For now. But you know
where I am when you need to talk about it."
There was no response from the huddled mound on the bed.
Closing the door behind her once again, she smiled at the
guests waiting expectantly.
"Sorry gang. Looks like the guest of honor's indisposed.
He's not feeling very well at the moment, but he wanted me to
thank everyone for coming."
Turning down offers of help in tidying, she efficiently
herded the guests into the hall. All those years playing butler
at her mother's myriad parties were paying off.
***
Slipping into the darkened room, she moved quietly to stand
by the bed. Her heart contracted as she saw the tracks from
tears on the beautiful face. Blair sniffled in his sleep.
/He's so young./
Debating for a moment, she made her decision as a half moan
issued from the inviting mouth. Slipping off her tennis shoes,
she lifted back the duvet and spooned up behind him. He
capitulated immediately, breath coming easier as he snuggled back
into her.
Holding him while he slept, she dozed, slipping in and out
of sleep as he shifted and moved.
Feeling unaccountably sluggish, sweaty and stiff from
sleeping in his clothes and curled so tight, Blair slowly swam to
the surface of his dreams, breaking through to consciousness.
Feeling the warmth behind him, he sighed and snuggled in closer.
Closing his eyes again, he tried to catch just one more minute of
the dream.
Jim liked to watch him sleep..
Pressing her face into the back of his neck, Lindy's arm
tightened around his waist.
{Huh?} stiffening, Blair's eyes shot open. "Jim?" he
whispered the name with painful hope.
"Shhhh, Blair. It's okay hon, it's me. Lindy. It's okay,
you're okay."
Her body was pressed up against his, curves unmistakable now
that he was awake.
"Lindy? What are you doing h-here?" the pain swelled as
reality asserted itself forcefully.
Not Jim.
Tears welled in his eyes and his shoulders shook, but he
tried to apologize. She was his best friend.
"I,I, I'm sorry about the party...."
"Shhhhhhhh. It's okay baby, it's okay." She crooned
softly, hand gently running along his side. "It was your party,
you can cry if you want to." Giggling softly at her bad joke,
she continued to stroke his body.
His breath caught as his cock hardened in reaction to the
caress. After a few seconds he sighed and relaxed into it,
letting her take care of him.
"It's been a long time since anybody touched me." he was
surprised his voice wasn't shaking. "But that guy...I didn't
want him, Linds."
But his hands were.
{I'm tired of being alone. Tired of fighting this.}
"I know Blair, I know...I don't think he meant to hurt you.
You're just too beautiful for your own good."
Her smile was bittersweet.
With an awkward movement he rolled over and faced her. Not
reaching for her, keeping his arms wrapped around himself, he
leaned his head forward and let it rest on her shoulder.
"Jim was the only person who ever made me see that." the
tears were still warm, but only dripping now. "I want him so bad,
Lindy. It's killing me."
Tears filling her eyes now too, she began to rain kisses on
the top of his head, one hand playing with the silky curls, the
other soothing down his back.
"Oh Blair. I can't stand to watch you hurting like this."
Catching the heat and sweat radiating from his scalp through
his hair, Lindy suddenly realized that he hadn't even removed his
shoes. He had to be incredibly uncomfortable.
With a last soothing stroke down his back, she gently
wriggled away and knelt on the bed next to him.
"I'm just going to make you more comfortable, okay hon?"
He raised his head and blinked at her, then dropped it back
down.
"Yeah. Whatever."
She pulled the covers off him and shifted down the bed to
tangle with the laces on his sneakers.
With another sigh he rolled to his back to help her out, one
hand going to rub at his stubbled face.
"So how's it feel, being 19?" she asked, making conversation
as she slipped first one shoe, then the other from his feet.
Smiling up at him as his foot twitched when she pulled off a
sock.
"'Bout the same as 17...without Jim." he flexed the foot
absently.
Pulling off the other, she let her fingertips trail over the
sensitive skin on the underside of his foot.
A shiver ran up his leg and his eyes widened, looking down
at her.
"Ticklish?" With an impish grin splitting, her face she
continued to gently run her hand over his foot, the other one
joining the delicate torture on his other foot.
"Ahh, Lindy, don't..." he squirmed restlessly.
Slipping back up into the bed next to him, she curled
protectively around him again.
"Sorry." She smiled a little sheepishly. "Your feet are
just so cute and tickleable." She was flirting outrageously, but
didn't quite want to stop herself.
He gave her an affronted look, somewhat bleary but clearly
indignant.
"My *feet* are not *cute*."
Her grin widened.
"Sure. Fine. Whatever."
Relaxing slightly into the comforting embrace, he giggled
slightly. Tightening her hold a moment, when she spoke again it
was with a quiet intensity.
"It's good to hear you laugh again."
"And being ticklish is a *curse*, I'll have you know."
"Oh I do Blair, trust me, I do."
"Oh you do, do you?"
Taking that as a challenge, he slid his hands to her sides
and dug his fingers in experimentally.
Shrieking almost immediately, she grabbed at his hands,
trying to keep them away from her tickle zones. She managed to
capture one hand between both of hers, but the other remained
free to torment. Taking advantage of that, he dug in for real and
began tickling furiously up and down her ribs.
Bucking and arching beneath him, she tried to wriggle away
from the tormenting hand, succeeding only in rubbing her body
along the length of his.
Reacting instinctively, he rose over her and used his upper
body to hold her down. The tickling hand slipped upwards and was
filled with the softness of a feminine breast.
"Oh, god." the whispered words hung in the air, and then he
lowered his face to hers.
Lindy's mouth opened beneath his, eyes closing.
Rational thought flew out the window as Blair leaned over
her, the hand she held spreading and squeezing, the other
tentatively caressing her breast. His mouth opened and he
searched for her tongue with his own, a quiet groan escaping him.
Rocking her hips softly, she freed a hand and let it wander
through his curls as sweet sensation curled into a pit at her
stomach.
His mouth was sweet and slightly tangy from the punch. Even
if he had no idea what he was doing, his body did. One knee slid
between her legs, nudging them apart, and then he was lying
between them, his erection pressing lightly to her.
Clutching at the hand still in hers, she began to make
little mewling noises. Her free hand slid down his body, tracing
the curve of his spine, stopping at his ass and pressing, pushing
his erection tighter against her.
"Lindy..." panting, he raised his head. "What are we doing?"
"Making love?" She looked into his eyes, unable to focus
long enough to make out more than the deep blue of them.
"But I don't love you. This is wrong." His body wasn't
listening to the words his mouth spoke. Slowly, his hips began to
return the movement of hers.
"But you do love me, Blair. Just not the forever and ever
kind of love." Her voice hitched on the last word as they moved
together. "And you need this. You need me."
The room was very quiet. It was the middle of the night,
even the hardiest party-ers had collapsed for the night, and the
most serious of the serious students had long since moved to the
library.
All Blair could hear was the way he was panting, and the
quickness of her breath beneath him.
It drew his attention back to the breast he was fondling.
Looking down at it, covered with the thin cotton of her pink
t-shirt. The heat and weight of it burned his hand.
Almost experimentally he moved his fingers, and watched as
it settled into his hand further.
Back moving, pushing the breast deeper into his hand, she
breathed out heavily.
"Mmmm, good." She murmured.
"How can I need something I've never had?" watching her, his
eyes went darker and wider. "You smell good, Linds."
"And you taste good B."
"And feel good. You feel sooo good."
Slipping her hand between their bodies, her fingertips
brushed his cock through his pants.
"Oh, God!" biting back a shout, Blair arched against her.
When he relaxed again his hand came to brush her cheek, unsteady.
He realized he was sweating heavily. "Do you..." he gulped, and
tried again. "Do you really want to do this, Lindy? I, I'm, I've
never done this before..." he bit his lip and glanced away
before finishing the sentence. "With a woman."
Bringing her hands up to frame his face, she gazed into the
dark blue eyes, her own filled with lust, shining obsidian.
"I'm sure you're going to do just fine, baby." She
whispered it softly. "You're already doing just fine. Doing...
everything right."
"You're sure?'
She pulled his head down for another kiss, mouth open and
hungry. Pulling back again, she spoke louder this time.
"Stop talking so much and make love to me."
Taking his friend at her word, Blair began kissing her
again. In the back of his mind he was aware of keeping up a quiet
running commentary, but managed to block it out most of the time.
The differences.
That was what caught him when he wasn't paying attention.
The way she sighed, the way she moved....the problem was
that all of it was different.
Her mouth tasted so sweet, her lips were so soft. He'd
thought Jim had soft lips, but he'd been wrong.
"Can I - touch you?" asking hesitantly, unsure with the role
of aggressor.
"I may kill you if you don't." her hands came up and began
tugging at his shirt.
"Let me...give me a minute...." feeling suddenly
overwhelmed, he backed off the bed and undressed with shaking
hands.
Her eyes were on him the entire time, but he scrambled back
just as soon as he was down to his boxers, pulling the covers
over himself.
Reaching to spoon around her, he was startled when she
turned to face him.
"Now take mine off." she said it quietly, a little
hopefully.
Growing harder with every inch of skin revealed, he did.
Pulling the shirt over her head, unzipping the denim skirt and
pushing it down over her hips and legs.
The bra presented more of a challenge and he fumbled, then
laughed nervously.
"You're so pretty." He sighed when it was off and he could
look at her. "So soft and white and perfect..." The words ran out
when he lowered his head to taste her, the same way he had tasted
Jim's breast, and found that she was more responsive to it than
his lover had been.
With a soft moan she wrapped her hands in his hair and held
his head closer, encouraging him. Careful to be gentle, knowing
that the sometimes enthusiastic play he and Jim had engaged in
wouldn't be right here, he suckled and nuzzled at her for a long
time.
When she began panting harder and moving against him more
insistently, he slid one hand down between them, half-wondering
what he would feel like when he touched her for the first time.
Touched a woman intimately for the first time.
If he were really truly gay it might just kill his erection,
right?
He felt the slippery warmth, and, in his fumbling
exploration, a finger slipped into her.
She moaned, and Blair shook with desire.
"Yes, baby, like that." pushing against his hand, she leaned
to rim his ear, making him shake harder. "Touch me, Blair. Move
your fingers up, just a little..."
He followed the directions, having some idea of what he was
looking for, and then her exclamation of pleasure told him he'd
found it.
"Yes!"
Returning to her mouth, he kissed her with renewed hunger,
his cock so hard and hot that it almost hurt.
As if she knew -- she probably did -- how badly he wanted
her now, she got both hands between them and wrapped them around
the length of his shaft, making him buck and cry out.
She spread her legs wider and began tugging at the waist of
his boxers.
"Blair...C'mon, baby, let's get these things off."
"Um, yeah, that would be good..."
Hearing the thickness of his own voice, Blair lifted his
hips long enough for them to work together getting his shorts
off, and then, carefully, he pulled her underpants off. They were
pink, like the t-shirt, and made of some soft silky material.
The scent and wetness startled him. As he moved lower,
getting them over her knees, he gave in to an urge, and rubbed
his cheek on her soft stomach.
She jumped and her hands went to his head, pushing just a
little.
"Um, stubble, baby."
Blair blushed deeply. Lifting his head, he mumbled.
"Sorry...I got used to it, didn't think about that it might
hurt..."
Arching slowly against him, she added a stretch and her
hands shook his face gently.
"Hush. I love what you're doing. And I *really* love what
you're thinking of doing." she smiled and stroked his hair.
"You do?" sounding surprised, he repeated it more
thoughtfully. "You do. Well, then..."
Forsaking words for the moment, he slipped down lower
between her legs. Closing his eyes, he sniffed at her.
She didn't smell like Jim, definitely. Jim never smelled
this strong, or this...musky.
He took a lick, just to taste.
It surprised him. She tasted good. Not like Jim *at all*,
but good.
Above him Lindy moaned. That was all he needed to get him
going.
He licked and nibbled and eventually sucked, once he figured
out where that would do the most good. She twisted above him, but
didn't thrust the way Jim had. Still, he held her hips with one
hand, letting the other trace her folds and curves.
Lindy's moans were rising in pitch and then she reached to
push him away.
"Wait...wait, Blair. I want to feel you. I want you to make
love to me."
Pushing up on his elbows, he met her eyes, his own
questioning.
"Yes, I'm sure." she said softly. "I'm on the pill and
you've never been with anyone but Jim...so I don't there will be
any problem there."
Although Blair had noticed the quiet of the dorm before, now
a prophetic silence seemed to settle over it.
The world was holding its breath.
With a shudder he moved up her small, slender body, and
settled between her legs on his knees.
He felt awkward and ungainly. Too big, so much bigger than
she was.
{Was this how Jim felt, the first time he touched me?}
The thought was lost when her hand came down to touch him
and hold him and guide him into her warmth.
The dream had been wrong.
*So* wrong.
This felt so much better than he'd imagined. Hot and tight
and slick...so slick.
Instinct took over so quickly that he barely had time to
think about what he was feeling.
After the first few thrusts Lindy wrapped her legs around
his hips and he sank in deeper. Fearing that he wouldn't be able
to hold off, he returned his hand to her groin and found the
little bump again, and rubbed it gently.
She moaned and undulated beneath him.
"Kiss me." she gasped, reaching for his head.
Covering her mouth with his, her hands tight in his hair
reminding him, just barely, of Jim, Blair thrust several more
times and then pulled away to gasp a warning.
"Linds...I'm, I'm, I'm gonna...commmmmme....."
With another, harder, push, he shuddered and shook inside
her. Her hand pushed his out of the way and she moaned and
thrashed under him seconds later, just as he was finishing.
The contractions of the muscles around his cock made him
shiver and moan softly. He slumped down, lying over her, and
panted quietly for a few minutes.
"Am I too heavy?" getting up on an elbow, he stared into her
face.
"No. I like your weight." she made snuggling movements and
he felt himself slip free. "Ohh."
"That was...wonderful." he said softly, leaning to kiss her.
"You were wonderful." she sighed, kissing him back. Relaxed
under him, she snuggled closer again.
"Doya...um, want to clean up or anything?" he felt awkward
again, with painful suddenness.
Lindy shook her head, her dark eyes holding his blue ones.
"I'd like to just lie here and cuddle...if that's okay with
you."
"I think that would be good." Laying down beside her, this
time she didn't protest when he turned her and spooned around
her.
It still felt strange to be the one in control, but that
seemed to be the way she wanted it.
Covering them both up, he snuggled close, one arm wrapped
around her.
His hand landed on a breast and he moved it down to her
stomach only to have her move it back. Kissing her neck tenderly,
Blair took a deep breath.
Now the quiet seemed somehow full, and warm.
Blair feel asleep listening to it.
***
Jim looked in the mirror, running a hand through his cropped
hair. The hairline seemed to be receding as he watched.
He grunted in response to the woman beside him. She was
ready for bed, but she liked to stay and watch while he finished
up. Watch and talk.
As usual what started out as a discussion of the day's cases
inevitably wound round to the topic of "us". He wasn't quite
sure how she managed to do it; one minute they'd be going over
the details of some grisly murder, the next she would be talking
about vacations together to focus on their relationship and
children.
"Come on Jimmy, what do you say? We both have time owed to
us. We haven't gone anywhere since the honeymoon, and that was
only a weekend. A nice week in the mountains, no distractions,
just you and me and a whole week with nothing to focus on but
us."
Jim held back the grimace he felt build at those words.
Besides the fact that he wasn't sure he could spend a whole week
alone with Carolyn, it always made him uncomfortable to leave
Cascade. Although he didn't understand why, he'd learned to
indulge that feeling.
Turning out the light, the bathroom suddenly thrown into
shadows, he leaned down to kiss his wife.
{Why is that always so hard to say?}
He was pretty sure he loved Carolyn. She had been the one
to pursue him, but he had been very flattered. She was beautiful,
smart, funny, she liked sports...marrying her had seemed like the
right thing to do. But now he wasn't so sure. Something seemed
to be missing.
He suffered from some malaise he couldn't quite put his
finger on.
Like this. Carolyn was kissing him back, rubbing her body
against his, getting excited. His body responded, as it always
did. But more and more, it was just his body.
They reached the stairs and he slipped his arm beneath her
knees to carry her up.
She laughed breathlessly, but he could barely smile down at
her. Instead he threw her on the bed and pounced over her,
making up for his lack of emotion by touching her body where he
knew she liked best.
{She deserves better than this. I deserve better than
this.}
Pulling her night-gown over her head, he moved to take her
nipple in his mouth. As always, he let his body lead him. At
least it was enthusiastic, which was more than he could say about
his heart or his head.
As he entered his wife, her slender body tensing and
quivering above him, the position she preferred, a feeling of
loss, of emptiness, washed over him, threatened to drown him.
Resolutely he fought it off, letting the physical comfort of
lovemaking anchor him as it passed.
As always, it was accompanied by the irritating feeling that
he'd forgotten something, that he was missing something, it
was just out of reach...Carolyn moaned and the sound let him slam
the lid down on that kettle of worms as it tried to rise again.
Letting his body take over completely, kissing her dutifully
as she reached for his mouth, he had only a second to wonder how
much he'd forgotten and what the hell would happen if he ever
remembered.
Incacha's name sprang to mind as he lowered a hand to
stimulate his wife manually, wanting to get this over with so he
could just come and go to sleep. Resolutely he banished it, and
felt the first tremors of her orgasm with something more than
sexual relief.
No matter what his hopes had been when they married, he knew
now that this wasn't going to work.
