Blair was mad.  He was more than mad, actually; his anger had been swelling all day, and now, as he prepared to go home, he found himself stuffing texts into his bag almost violently.  Finally, with a frustrated growl, he gave up torturing his books and flung himself into motion, pacing jerkily around the room and muttering under his breath.  He couldn't believe, he simply could not believe that Jim would do something like this to him, would ask him this.  What the hell did he think he was doing?  What the hell could have sparked this?

Jim didn't want him as his partner anymore.  Blair had caught him on the phone that morning, making a comment about a potential new partner to Simon, raising his voice just enough to clearly reach his half-asleep partner.  And that made Blair furious, too—just when exactly was Jim planning on telling him this little piece of information?  Two minutes before he handed him a box with all the junk he kept at Jim's desk in the precinct in it?  That—the fact that Jim wasn't even going to tell him directly, let him defend himself, was just going to let him hang—was as hurtful as the rest of it.

Dammit, Jim!  He'd thought, he'd honestly thought, that Jim understood his need to help, that Jim treated him as an equal in their relationship.  That Jim accepted the fact that he had to be there; who else was going to help Jim control his senses?  He had to be by Jim's side, for reasons he tried not to think too closely about; the alternative was unthinkable.  Not even an option.  He was Blair Sandburg, and his place in this universe was right behind Jim, protecting him, as a partner, a friend, a Guide.

A lover…  But he wasn't going to think about that now.

After all, what did Jim think he was?  He was his Guide.  Just as Jim's first impulse was to protect the tribe, his first impulse was to protect Jim.  And if Jim seriously thought that he was just going to give in and stop being Jim's partner, simply because Jim was worried, then Jim was in for a real shock.

And what about the rest of it?

Blair had known for months that he was in love with Jim.  It hadn't been hard to fall in love with the older man—Jim was one of the most beautiful people he had ever known, inside and out, gallant, honorable, and with a depth and subtlety of character that was enough to awe him, even after three years of having known the man.  Just being near him was like coming home, and Blair cherished every second.

He hadn't meant to fall so hard, but he had, and now he was fighting himself on two fronts.  One side of him wanted to grab Jim tight and never let go, tell him what the simple thought of leaving did to him.  The other side wanted to keep silent, preserve at least the friendship they had, not risk it all in a single rash moment.

All this, mixed in with the instinctive Guide reaction of a separation from his Sentinel, meant that desire, frustration and fury were seething in him in a heady, dangerous blend.  He just hoped that he'd be able to keep the volatile mixture under the dubious control of his mind a little longer.  That was his greatest fear, that in a moment of pure panic, he would simply blurt it all out—and lose everything he most loved.

Well, there wasn't anything he could do here, and Jim would be home soon.  They could talk then, he counseled himself grimly.  About...everything.  He finished packing his backpack, cast one more look around looking for anything he might need that weekend, and left, shutting the door behind him with only a little more force than necessary.  Jogging down to the Volvo, he outlined his plan of attack.

**************

Jim came home, checking cautiously for heartbeats in the loft before letting himself in with a sigh of relief.  He didn't think he'd ever seen Blair as angry as he had been that morning.  Just the thought of Blair's tense, hard face looking at him from his bedroom door was enough to make his stomach clench.  He really hated hurting him like this.

But he didn't have a choice.  Not really.

When he first realized that he was in love with Blair, he had been stunned, horrified.  He had never even thought about another man before, and thinking about Blair like that was almost enough to make him bolt.  He had bolted, trying to get away for a week's fishing trip on his own to work things out in his mind.  Of course that trip had resulted in Blair and Simon following him, and Blair being struck down by a toxin in the water.  Not exactly what he had in mind when he'd decided to go.

He had been so disordered by that point that he hadn't even known how to react to Blair's sickness, his mind in turmoil.  Simon had done most of the interference work with the 'doctors' the thieves had brought, while Jim tried to distract himself from feelings he wasn't sure he wanted, or needed, or could deal with.  But he wasn't sure he could get rid of them, either.

He hadn't felt so helpless, so betrayed by his own body, since he'd first regained his senses.  Half disbelief that this was actually happening to him, half uncertainty over whether or not he actually wanted this strange blessing-curse he had been granted by some freak of genetics.  And this time, there wasn't anything Blair could do to help him.

He hadn't come to a decision, either—at least, not on that.  But he had decided something else.  Blair meant a lot to him, no matter how he chose to deal with it, and the plain truth of the matter was, by working alongside him, Blair got hurt.  The toxin in the water was only one in a long string of incidents, beginning with Lash, that had ended with Blair in trouble.  Because of him.

And that was something that Jim wasn't prepared to accept, not even if it meant driving Blair away.  He had to keep him safe, and this had been the last straw.

He slowly walked across the floor, staring out the window, almost unconsciously stretching out to listen for Blair's heartbeat.  And got the shock of his life, as he heard it thundering right outside the door, in the fast-but-controlled rhythm that spoke of an anger Jim rarely saw in his partner.  Oh, boy, he thought ruefully, this is going to be rough.

The door opened and shut behind Blair, and Jim could almost feel the heat of his anger from across the room.  He quickly schooled his face to granite, refusing to allow Blair to talk him out of this.  There wasn't anything in this world that Blair could say to change his mind.  Not about this.

"Jim, we have to talk."  The quiet, controlled tone sliced through the silence, and Jim steeled himself, and shrugged.

"Nothing to talk about, is there?" he said casually.  "Simon approved my request for a new partner.  In a couple of weeks, it'll be finalized."  He controlled a wince at the blatant lie, telling himself it was for Blair.  "Don't worry," he added, "I'm not going to throw you out.  You're still welcome to stay here, as long as you like."  He shuddered, hearing the casual cruelty in his voice, but an image flashed across his vision, Blair's bleeding body, lifeless on the ground…

No!

So, he chose his words carefully, calculated to wound, to drive Blair into abandoning his argument and giving in.  They were the most hurtful words he could think of.  Behind him, he heard Blair's soft indrawn breath, and closed his eyes in brief pain.

"Dammit, Jim," Blair growled, "at least look at me while you're blowing me off!"

Jim didn't move.

Then Blair was in front of him, looking at him with blue eyes darkened to indigo with anger, and Jim couldn't hide any more.  All his worries over Blair, all his apprehension over what he was feeling, all the pain and fear swamped him, sending him reeling.  He took a step forward, hands moving up to Blair's shoulders for an anchor.

"Please," he said hoarsely, not knowing what he was asking for, for Blair to go—or stay.

Don't leave me.  Don't leave me—  But what if Blair did?  What if he left now?  Would that hurt more, or less, than if Blair died?  He was confused, hurting, feeling himself tearing free of the anchor that had kept him sane for all these years.  "Blair…"

Blair reached out instinctively, rubbing up and down Jim's arms, his anger moving somewhere else as the natural imperative of a Guide—protect the Sentinel—surged to the front.  "Hey, man, it's okay.  I'm here.  It's okay."  He looked into Jim's eyes, seeking an explanation to what was happening underneath the stoic exterior, and froze.

Was that—no, it couldn't be.  Could it?  The warmth in Jim's eyes, the unmistakable conflict raging there, the…love…

It couldn't be love. Not from Jim, not Jim giving him his heart's desire, what he had wanted for so long…but it was. What else could it be?

And, before he couldn talk himself out of it, he leaned forward, very, very slowly, and pressed his lips to Jim's in a soft, almost chaste kiss. Testing. Tasting. Jim's world exploded into a technicolor swirl, his Guide's mouth under his, so sweet, his warmth beside him, so close—too close...

He jerked back, staring in wild-eyed disbelief at Blair, who, impossibly, looked completely calm.  Understanding hit him, and he swore furiously to himself.  Blair raised an eyebrow.

"There something you been meaning to tell me, big guy?"

Jim scowled.  "No!"

Blair cocked the other eyebrow.  "Jim, what I saw wasn't my imagination.  How long have you felt like this?"  A pause, then, more softly, "Is this why you wanted a new partner?"

Jim couldn't say anything, and Blair sighed.  Yep, that was it, all right.  He'd always known that Jim had a protective streak ten miles wide when it came to him, and apparently it had kicked into overdrive with the addition of...whatever he was feeling.  It sure as hell looked like love, but Blair wasn't going to chance any more misunderstandings.

"I love you," he said.

Jim took a deep breath, seeing his whole world come crashing down around him, rebuilding into something he didn't have the words to name.  All he could tell was that everything was different, and that Blair loved him.  Blair loved him.  He began to shake as he realized the incredible gift he had been given, and the huge risk Blair was taking to tell him.  After all, Jim had just all but repudiated him as a partner—and for Blair to stand there and say—  Jesus.  The incredible courage of the man.

Couldn't he show the same courage?

Couldn't he?

Just three words.

"I love you."  A whisper, forced out past tight vocal chords to sit heavily in the silence.  And he saw his reward in the dawning hope and joy—and love—on Blair's face.  It gave him the courage to go on.  "I love you, too, Blair."

The End