Two Birds with One Stone
by Rae Evans 

********

Blair Sandburg mused that someone had once written a song called 'I don't like Mondays' which could have been penned just for him. It was not that Mondays generally were bad just that this Monday was turning into a really shitty day. It was always going to be a dreary day with Jim being in court and he stuck behind his desk without a partner, but something had put the Major Crime Captain in the mood from hell and as a result everyone was suffering. Simon Banks was normally gruff and uncompromising on the surface but underneath he was a teddy bear. Blair smiled to himself at that thought and then grimaced. Today Simon Banks was a bear with a sore head and as a result the bullpen was deserted apart from Rhonda and the newest detective, Blair.

As the morning had dragged on, more and more members of the Major Crime team had found excuses to leave their desks; statements to be taken, witnesses to be interviewed, informants to be spoken to, anything to get them out of the way of their Captain. Blair had escaped to Forensics once and Records twice, taking as long as he could on each occasion, but today, with Jim in court, it was his day to do paperwork and he needed to be at his desk to do that. Unfortunately, that meant that he and Rhonda were now the sole recipients of Banks' temper. He growled, he shouted and he slammed doors and all the while the two occupants of the office kept their heads down and their fingers crossed.

Thirty minutes before he could log off the computer and go home, Blair started to relax. Jim had agreed to cook and Blair was looking forward to a good meal, maybe a glass or two of wine and some serious cuddling before bed to make up for what he had endured at work. Suddenly the door to Simon's office flew open and he bellowed at Blair, "Sandburg. My office, now!"

Rhonda gave Blair a supportive glance as he shrugged his shoulders and strode in to the lion's den.

"Sandburg, where is everyone?" Simon asked through gritted teeth.

"Brown and Rafe are out on the Jenkins' murder doing follow up on the house to house, Megan is with ADA Shaw on the Silverson robberies and I don't know where the others are."

Blair's voice got quieter as he realised that his answer was only serving to fuel Simon's anger.

"Is it too much to ask to expect my detectives to be at their desks when I want them?"

Even though it was a rhetorical question Blair felt it required an answer.

"No, sir."

"Am I expected to do everything myself?"

Blair tried to make himself smaller, in case that would help.

"No, sir."

"Have you finished the Williamsburg Report?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why isn't it on my desk?"

"It is sir."

Hesitantly Blair pointed at a folder sitting on top of Simon's 'in' tray.

Simon growled, picked up the folder and opened it. When Blair didn't move he asked menacingly, "Haven't you got anything to do, Sandburg?"

"No, sir... I mean yes, sir. Erm... just going sir."

Blair was up and out of Simon's office in record time. Sitting back down in his chair he smiled at Rhonda and gave her a thumbs up. She returned his smile, conspirators in survival.

********

Jim had found a programme he wanted to watch while Blair brought the dry clothes up from the laundry room. Folding towels and t-shirts he listened to Jim make comments on what he was watching. It was one of those survival programs. Some ex-military type was leading a bunch of C list celebrities around a jungle.

"These guys wouldn't last a minute in real life."

"Then why watch it if you feel that way about it?" Blair asked finishing his chores.

"So I can make comments and feel superior," Jim smirked.

Blair headed into the office that used to be his bedroom and came out with a book. Sitting down on the couch he snuggled up close to Jim, pushed his glasses up on his nose and started to read. Jim kept up his commentary for another fifteen minutes before the program ended. The TV played on but Jim now turned his attention to his guide. Angling his body, he pulled the smaller man into his chest and looked over his shoulder.

"What you reading, Chief?"

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night," Blair muttered, fully enthralled with his book.

"Isn't that a children's book?"

"Mm," Blair grunted

Jim's hands came round Blair's waist and gently stroked his stomach.

"I hate to tell you this, Chief, but I figured it out and the dog didn't bark."

He started to nibble an earlobe.

"Is that right, Sherlock?" Blair replied trying very hard to concentrate on the printed words.

"So now that you know the ending you don't have to read it anymore, do you?" Jim wheedled.

Blair knew he was putty in the hands of a determined sentinel but felt obliged to put up a good fight.

"I don't know if I can take your word for it, Jim. I think I have to at least give the author a chance."

Jim started on the spot beneath Blair's ear on his neck, intermittently nibbling, sucking and licking.

"Give me a chance, Chief," he muttered between nibbles.

Blair's head went back and the book slipped off his knees.

"Oh God, keep that up and I'll give you more than a chance."

Jim pushed his hips forward into Blair's back.

"Keep that up?" he asked suggestively.

"Boasting again, big guy?" Blair teased.

Jim slipped to the outside of the couch and neatly left Blair lying flat on his back. The book fell to the floor as Jim twisted and put himself on top of Blair, straddling his lap.

"Now, what were you saying?" he asked licking his lips.

Blair was laughing at the sudden manoeuvre.

"Where did you learn that move, big guy-Smackdown?"

Jim carefully removed Blair's glasses and laid them on the floor just tucked under the couch.

"No, and did anyone ever tell you that you talk way too much?"

Jim didn't allow Blair to respond, plundering his mouth, ravishing that all too talkative tongue into silence. When Jim finally broke contact with Blair's mouth, his lips were red and swollen and he looked completely and utterly debauched. His shirt was pushed up past his nipples which were hard and erect. His hair had come out of its restraint and lay in a halo around his head.

"I missed you today, Chief," Jim said with feeling.

"Evidently, my dear Holmes."

"And I have another day in court tomorrow," Jim informed Blair sadly.

Blair groaned, "I just hope Simon is in a better mood. I don't think I can stand another day of being his whipping boy."

"A little harsh, Chief. You know Simon is a softie underneath all that bluster."

"Not today he wasn't. Today he was..." Blair struggled for words, "...a nightmare."

"Well, I should be finished by lunchtime so how about I come and rescue you from the big bad bear, hey, Goldilocks?"

"From Sherlock Holmes to fairy tales, Jim, getting down to your natural level?"

Blair wriggled beneath Jim, knowing he was moving into dangerous territory.

"Just remember what happened to Goldilocks, Chief."

Jim renewed his attack on Blair's chest. Laughing again Blair managed to gasp out. "And the big bad wolf ate Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother," before Jim reclaimed his mouth.

Both men were panting hard when they next broke apart.

"Want an early night, Chief?" Jim asked pushing himself up and standing over his lover's body. He held out a hand and Blair allowed himself to be pulled up.

Grinning, Blair whispered, "My, what a big mouth you have."

Jim pushed Blair towards the stairs.

"All the better to kiss you with."

Jim pushed again.

"My, what big hands you have."

"All the better to hold you with."

Blair, still walking backwards, stumbled over the first few steps and landed on his backside. Jim kept moving forward and Blair found himself staring at Jim's groin.

"My, what a big... dick... you have."

Blair dragged a finger along the trouser ensconced cock in his face. Jim leaned down and kissed the mouth that was licking its lips in anticipation and pulled Blair to his feet. The two of them carefully made their way up the stairs. As Jim laid Blair on the bed on his back he replied to Blair's last comment.

"All the better to fuck you with, my dear."

Blair's laugh was once again cut off by Jim's mouth.

********

Tuesday

Tuesday morning started quietly at Major Crime. Simon had a meeting with the Chief of Police and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Rhonda informed them that the meeting was running late and Simon wouldn't be back until 11.00 am. Five minutes before Simon's appointed return time-hardened detectives and police officers alike started drifting out of the bullpen. Megan got up to leave and Blair tried to guilt her into staying.

"Come on, Megan, at least wait until Simon gets back before you leave. If you are all gone when he gets back he is going to eat me alive."

Megan was unrepentant, "Sorry, Sandy, at times like this it's every woman for herself."

Blair gave her the puppy dog look. She at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Blair, I promised I would help Joel interview this woman, you know empathy, that sort of thing."

Blair was unconvinced. "You rat. Payback is a bitch, you know, and I will get my revenge."

The red-haired, Australian woman smiled as she left Blair and Rhonda to their fate. It wasn't long in arriving. To say Simon breezed through the bullpen was a lie and an understatement. What he actually did was more akin to a tornado. Having slammed the door to his office, it was only thirty seconds until he opened the door again. This time he bellowed for Rhonda. Grabbing her notepad and pen she bravely entered the office. All went quiet and Blair opened a new file to start work. Three minutes later the sound of crashing china and shouting startled him from his reading. Through the windows of Simon's office he could see Rhonda kneeling on the floor and Simon towering over her gesticulating wildly with his arms and shouting almost incoherently. Blair stood not sure whether to intervene. As Rhonda got to her feet he could see she was crying. Simon pointed to the door and shouted, "Get out!" at the distraught woman. She flew from her superior's office, pausing only to give Blair a quick look and then rushed to the restroom. Not entirely sure what he was going to do, Blair approached Simon's office and stood in the open door way.

"Simon?" he asked gently.

The tall black man stood in the same spot. He was breathing heavily, his hands on his hips and there was sweat on his brow.

"What do you want?" he muttered.

Blair swallowed and pressed on.

"Are you okay man? I've never seen you like this before and, shit man, you made Rhonda cry."

Simon turned to Blair, fury written all over his face.

"How dare you question me? How I treat my staff is no concern of yours, Sandburg, and I'll trust you not to interfere in how I run my office."

His words were clipped and fairly spat out. Blair was not put off.

"You've been letting fly at everyone for the last couple of days, Simon. It's just not like you. Is something wrong?"

Simon strode forward his finger outstretched.

"Let me remind you, Detective Sandburg, that you are here to do what I tell you. How I tell you to do it is not your concern. All you have to worry about is that you do what you are told."

He started jabbing the finger at Blair's chest.

"Is that perfectly clear?"

"I know that, Simon, but..."

Blair was unable to finish his sentence. The jabbing finger became a hard shove with the flat of Simon's hand and Blair was pushed backwards failing to end up on his backside only because he grabbed at the corner of Brown's desk. Simon continued forward catching hold of Blair's shirt as he caught his balance.

"Simon..." he managed to gasp.

In that split second Blair knew they had an audience as Rhonda walked back into the bullpen. Her mouth dropped at the scene in front of her.

"Just do as you're told, you hippy, wannabe cop."

Flecks of spit hit Blair's face, which paled at Simon's furious words.

"Now get out there and do something useful. I don't want to see your face again today, you fa..."

Rhonda's audible indrawn breath and Blair's immediate reaction to the word Simon had been about to utter stopped the Captain in mid flow. A grimace crossed his face and he took his hands off Blair's shirt and wiped them across his face. Blair was stunned. He couldn't believe Simon had been about to call him a faggot. He felt sick. As he started to turn to leave the bullpen he heard Simon whisper, "I'm sorry Blair, I didn't mean that."

Blair ignored him, too upset and angry to reply. He didn't see Simon fall to the ground but he whirled when he heard the noise and heard Rhonda shout, "Simon!"

********

The paramedics were loading Simon into the ambulance as Jim pulled into the parking garage. Seeing both Blair and Rhonda hovering by the back doors of the ambulance he hurried over to find out what was happening. Quickly Blair filled him in, though from Blair's pauses and Rhonda's looks at Blair he figured Blair was leaving some of the story out. Jim helped Rhonda step up into the back of the ambulance so she could accompany Simon.

"Don't worry, I'll let Joan know and tell the Chief of Police. Just let us know how he is," Blair shouted as the paramedic shut the doors.

The ambulance pulled away. Jim put an arm on Blair's shoulder. He wanted to pull him into his arms and hug him. Blair looked like he needed a hug.

"Do the paramedics know what's wrong?" Jim asked.

Blair sighed, "They didn't say."

As the two men stepped into the elevator Jim drew Blair towards him.

"What did he do, Chief?"

"It's not so much what he did."

Blair paused and Jim gave him time to answer.

"It's what he said. He was going to call me a faggot."

Blair looked down.

"Are you sure, Chief? That just doesn't sound like Simon."

"Yeah, I'm sure. He stopped himself, but Rhonda was there, she heard."

"Aw, Chief, I'm sure he didn't mean it. Whatever is wrong with him made him say those things?"

He tried to reassure his partner.

"I know you're right. It just hurt coming from him, you know?"

Jim gave Blair a quick squeeze and dropped his hands to his sides as the elevator doors slid open on the sixth floor.

********

The bullpen was still empty and there was no sign of the turmoil and chaos that had taken place only a short while earlier.

"You call Joan and I'll call the Chief, Chief," Jim smiled intentionally trying to lighten his partner's mood.

Blair smiled briefly and nodded before picking up the phone.

The Chief of Police was not a happy man and summoned Jim to his office for a full explanation. As Jim took the elevator down he considered that Simon's hospitalization would cause the Chief some real headaches. Joel was already covering for Captain Henderson from Vice, who had been shot when a sting had gone bad and Jim was sure he had read a memo that someone else was acting up after the Captain of Homicide had taken an extended sabbatical. Jim couldn't think of anyone who could take Simon's place, but, then again, he cheered himself up with the thought that it wasn't his problem. As long as whoever took over from Simon would let Jim get on with his work and not hassle him, Jim would be happy.

********

Blair expected Jim to be gone only a short time and was looking forward to lunch, so he was surprised when he checked his watch and found it was almost one and Jim hadn't returned. Needing the presence of his partner after the events of the morning Blair grabbed another cup of coffee to keep him going until Jim appeared. When Blair's in tray was finally empty he sat back in his chair and stretched listening to the cracks as his spine straightened. The clock said 2.05pm and there was still no sign of Jim or any word from the hospital. Too much coffee called Blair to the restroom and he was just washing his hands when his cell phone rang. Quickly wiping his hands he flipped the phone open.

"Sandburg."

"I'm in the truck. Can you come down to the garage?"

"Sure, I'm on my way."

Before Blair had finished his sentence Jim had ended the call. Sighing Blair made his way back to his desk, grabbed his jacket and backpack and rode the elevator down.

Jim wasn't talking. Oh great, thought Blair just what I need, an angry sentinel. Jim drove to the park. As soon as the truck was stationary Jim was out and striding to the hot dog stand they normally frequented when they went to the park. Blair pulled his jacket tighter. It was a cold day and he hadn't been expecting lunch outside. He locked the truck with his keys and followed Jim, who handed him a hot dog with all the trimmings he liked. He waited for Jim to speak. His hot dog devoured in two large mouthfuls, Jim strode off down the path towards the pond. Blair followed, taking a little longer with his food. Jim stopped and turned to Blair.

"He's made me Acting Captain!"

Blair watched his sentinel's face. He was obviously not happy at the statement.

"And that's not a good thing because..."

"I'm a detective. I'm not a Captain. I don't do paperwork. I don't do meetings. I just don't."

Jim looked terrified and Blair couldn't help it, he laughed. Quietly at first but it got louder as Jim looked more and more sorry for himself. Finally managing to stop Blair reassured the larger man.

"Jim you'll do fine. This is a great chance for you. You must have seen yourself as Captain material some day."

"Yeah, Chief, just not today."

Jim was obviously not convinced.

"Oh boy, this is going to be an interesting few days."

Blair steered his reluctant partner towards the small snack shop. One hot dog, even with all the trimmings, wasn't enough to fill a highly amused guide. Blair was still hungry and was soon munching on a chicken salad sandwich.

"You know this could be a real opportunity for you. A chance for you to show the Chief that you have what it takes."

Jim was now sulking, and even a burger had not improved his mood.

"But Simon spends most of his time in meetings or smoothing ruffled feathers or, God forbid, juggling budgets. I can't handle all those rows of numbers."

He turned his eyes to Blair, the desperation evident.

"You have to help me, Blair. You have to think of something to get me out of this."

Jim walked on, talking to himself.

"Maybe I could go down with something, you know cold or flu. Would that be enough to keep me at home? The last time Simon had flu he didn't go home, so maybe it needs to be something a bit more serious but not life-threatening."

"I could always shoot you, Jim," Blair offered.

"That's a possibility," Jim agreed, "just a flesh wound. That would get me a few days."

Blair stopped and put a hand on Jim's arm to stop him.

"I was joking man."

Jim squinted at Blair, "You were? Are you sure because it sounds like a great idea to me, Chief?"

Blair put his hands on either side of Jim's face.

"Jim, stop this," he said lovingly. "You can do this. You are going to make a great Captain. Speaking of which let's head to the hospital and see how Simon is."

Jim nodded. "Great idea, Chief. He might be able to come up with a few ideas to get me out of this."

********

Joan and Darryl were at the hospital sitting in the waiting room. Blair squatted down in front of Darryl and his mom taking Joan's hands in his. Rhonda got up and approached Jim.

"How is he?" Jim asked.

"He has a tumour. They are operating now."

Rhonda wiped the tears from her eyes with a dishevelled piece of tissue.

"They don't know how serious it is. They have to do some tests while they operate. I don't understand, how could this happen?"

Jim put his arm around the woman's shoulder.

"He'll be fine, Rhonda. Simon's not going to let this beat him."

Rhonda nodded but sniffed, leaning into Jim's comforting arms. He took out his handkerchief and gave it to her. Just then a man in green scrubs pushed through the doors to the waiting room.

"Is there anyone here waiting for Simon Banks?"

Five people stood up. The surgeon looked flummoxed.

"Next of kin?" he asked.

"I'm his ex-wife," said Joan.

"I'm his son," commented Darryl.

"He's my Captain," offered Jim.

The doctor seemed confused. Blair stepped forward. "Why don't you just tell us all?"

Looking as though he was about to object the doctor shrugged and carried on.

"The initial cat scan and EEG revealed Captain Banks had a frontal lobe tumor. We've removed the tumor and he's in post op. That's the bad news."

The doctor took a breath. "The good news is that the tumor was benign. We will have to keep a close eye on him for a few days and do some follow up tests, but I am confident he will make a full recovery. To be on the safe side, we are moving him to intensive care as soon as he is ready to leave post op."

Darryl's eyes were wet with emotion.

"Can I see my dad?" he asked, holding onto his mom's hand.

The surgeon laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Give them an hour or so and you can go up."

"Thank you, doctor," Joan answered for her son.

As the surgeon turned to leave the waiting room, Jim stepped forward.

"Er... doctor, how long before Captain Banks is back at work?"

"Jim!"

Blair couldn't believe what he had heard.

********

"Three weeks, Chief, three fucking weeks. Minimum!"

Jim cut into the inside lane, growling at the motorist behind him daring him to object.

"I can't do it. I just can't. I'll go and tell the Chief when we get back. He'll have to find someone else."

"Jim, just listen to yourself, man. You are an ex-Ranger, Cop of the Year more times than anyone else, Sentinel of the Great City. You have faced terrorists, serial killers, bombers and drug lords. This is just three weeks of being Captain. You can handle it. Take a deep breath and chill, man."

Blair was getting just a little tired of hearing Jim whine. Jim looked at Blair and Blair could see the blush on his cheeks and knew Jim was embarrassed by his own complaining. Jim said nothing staring straight ahead, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Blair tried to do some emotional support work.

"The Chief wouldn't have asked you to do it if he didn't believe you could handle it."

Jim grunted. Blair decided on a different tack.

"And you know, I've never slept with the boss before."

Jim allowed himself a small grin.

"Does that mean I get to tell you what to do?"

Blair raised an eyebrow.

"In the bedroom, or in the office?"

Jim dropped a hand to Blair's thigh.

"In bed would be a good start."

"In your dreams, Jim," Blair snorted.

"Always, Chief, always."

********

As they entered the bullpen, Blair made his way to his desk. Jim stopped in the middle of the room. Blair hung up his jacket and watched Jim as he looked first to Simon's office, then to his own desk and then back again. He smiled and signalled with his hands, "Shoo."

Jim's shoulders drooped and he slowly and reluctantly made his way to the office. Opening the door, Jim looked about nervously, as though he expected to be told off any minute. He looked back at Blair, who tried to put all his love and faith in the look he was sending Jim's way. It must have worked, because Jim stepped into the office and sat down behind the desk. Blair smiled to himself, chuckling because Jim had left the door to the office open.

********

Wednesday

The next morning Blair stood in the kitchen drinking his algae shake. The previous night, Blair had finally gotten Jim to admit that his first few hours behind the big desk had been relatively pain free but, Jim had a budget meeting this morning and it had preyed on his mind all evening. Turning to a tried and trusted method of stress relief, Blair had taken Jim to bed early and allowed him to take control. Blair had been drifting off into a post coital doze, arms and legs wrapped round Jim, when the phone rang. Jim had grabbed it off the bedside table, rolling Blair with him as he moved across the bed. It had been Joan to tell them Simon had finally woken up. He had a fever, but the doctors felt his prognosis was still good. They were both relieved at the news and had slept soundly, replete and comforted.

As Blair heard Jim descend the stairs, he looked up and wolf-whistled. Jim was wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt and red and blue patterned tie.

"Man, do you look sexy in a suit," Blair whispered.

Jim smiled, slightly embarrassed. Finishing the shake, Blair put the glass in the sink and walked over to his lover.

"I forget how good you look all dressed up."

Blair ran his hands up Jim's arms and to his shoulders. He licked his lips.

"How much time do we have?" he asked, stepping in close.

"Not enough," Jim replied, dropping his head forward and capturing Blair's lips as his hands pulled Blair's head towards him.

The kiss was passionate and did nothing to dampen Blair's ardor.

"You taste so good," Blair breathed into Jim's mouth. "Are you sure we don't have time?" Blair asked, one hand dropping to Jim's crotch. He was hard.

Jim resumed kissing, his tongue demanding entry to Blair's mouth and then cavorting there as access was granted.

"I wish there was," Jim panted as their lips broke apart, "but I have to be on the second floor in thirty minutes."

Both men sighed as they stepped apart. Jim grabbed his jacket and opened the door. Blair held back, admiring the view.

"Drop dead gorgeous," he muttered.

Jim wiggled his ass in reply and Blair laughed and followed him from the loft.

********

The call came in just before 11.30 am. Jim and Blair had been working with Robbery on a series of convenience store hold ups that had gradually been escalating in violence. During the last hold up, the store manager had been shot and killed. When the press nickname for the gang changed from the 7-11 robbers to the 7-11 killers, the Chief of Police had brought Major Crime in and told both departments to get results quickly. Blair grabbed his jacket and shouted a message to Rhonda to tell Jim where he was going. Taking the stairs down, Blair wondered if should have taken another member of the squad with him. As a rookie he was supposed to be accompanied on every call. With Jim acting as Captain, Blair reasoned that he had not had another detective assigned to him as a temporary partner and he had not been placed on desk duty, so there was no need for him not to respond to the call. Besides he would hook up with the Robbery squad detectives at the scene. Any qualms he had about answering the call alone were logically disposed of and Blair drove out of the garage with a clear conscience.

The robberies had all followed the same pattern: two young men, one white, one black, entered the store. One would go to the checkout and the other would stay by the door, appearing to be interested in something on the shelves. The perp at the checkout would threaten the person behind the counter with a hand gun, while the other kept watch. Violence had not been a factor until the third robbery; a pregnant woman had been punched in the stomach when she took too long to empty the cash register. From that point on, the assaults had escalated until only two days before, when the store owner who had walked in on the robbery was shot dead without warning when he entered the store through a rear door.

The store that Blair was now rushing towards was only fifteen minutes from the station but a patrol car had been three blocks away when the silent alarm went off and they had responded to the call. It was the same two officers who had reported to Dispatch that it was the 7-11 robbers. When Blair arrived, both officers were out of the squad car, squatting down, guns drawn with the squad car between them and the store. Blair parked half a block away, made his shield visible on his belt and approached the two officers from behind, hands away from his sides, announcing his arrival calmly. He joined them behind the squad car.

"What have we got, guys?"

"Two guys, white, entered approximately twenty minutes ago. We had one shot fired a few minutes ago. Robbery told us to hold position here until they arrived."

"Wait a minute," Blair considered. "You said that they were both white?"

The same officer, Jennings his name tag said, answered again. "We got a good look at both of them, definitely both Caucasian males about 16 years old."

"Then it's not the 7-11 robbers. Did you tell Robbery they were both white?"

"No," said Jennings' partner.

"So why aren't they here then?" Blair asked not expecting a reply.

"Don't know," replied Jennings.

Blair looked at the man and shook his head. Suddenly all hell let loose. Shots were fired from inside the store shattering windows and sending gawking onlookers running in all directions. Blair ducked, but pulled his handgun from its holster. The safety stayed on. Jennings, who was positioned towards the back of the car, dropped to his knees. His partner, at the front of the car, put both arms on the hood and steadied his aim. The shooting stopped and both Blair and Jennings moved round to face the store. Another round of firing broke out. Jennings' partner went down, half his head blown away.

"Ross!" Jennings screamed, scrabbling back over to his prone partner.

Blair felt sick and watched the pool of blood halo around the young officer's head. The two robbers broke out of the store, each going in a different direction. A distraught Officer Jennings, tears streaking his face, snarled in anger and took off around the back of the patrol car to chase after one of the perps. Blair looked around; there was no sign of any other units on the way. He checked out the second robber, who now stood in the mouth of an alley which ran down the side of the store. The perp was watching Blair, as if daring him to follow. Blair brought up his gun, flicking off the safety. He assumed a position not dissimilar from the downed man and shouted, "Cascade P.D. Armed police officer, put down your gun and step away."

The perp laughed and took off down the alley. Jennings was long gone and his partner was dead. In that split second, Blair made the decision to follow the young criminal. He took off after the perp. As he entered the alley, he saw the youngster run out at the other end, turning right. The two men made their way down a warren of alleyways and back streets. Once when the perp stopped to avoid being hit by a garbage truck, Blair drew closer and once again he shouted, "Cascade P. D. Stop or I will shoot."

The perp skipped in a circle and laughed again waving his gun in Blair's direction. Blair ducked down behind a wall, but saw the guy run off to the left. He followed, and after another two turns found himself sliding to a stop in another alley. This one was different though, there was no way out. It was a dead end. Panting at the exertion, Blair shouted again, "Cascade P.D. Throw the gun away and put your hands on your head."

The youth was pulling at a door that had been hidden from Blair by the gloom caused by the high sided buildings. Blair looked up and saw grimy, closed windows. Not being able to open the door, the trapped man stepped towards Blair, waving his gun again. Blair assumed the stance and fired one shot above head height. The shot reverberated off the brick walls.

"Cascade P. D. Put down the gun, put your hands on your head or I will shoot."

At that moment, the door opened and an old Chinese man entered the alley talking to himself, oblivious to the two men in a Mexican stand-off only a few feet away. The perp turned at the noise, looked at Blair, giggled and then turned the gun on the old man who dropped the armful of boxes he held by the dumpster. In a moment of clarity Blair saw the finger tighten on the trigger and he shot once into the body of the gunman. The bullet hit the perp high in the back on the left hand side. As it shattered the shoulder blade, the bullet was deflected down and to the right. It tore through tissue, passed through the perp's heart and exited just under the rib cage. The youth was dead before he hit the ground.

Blair stood staring. Automatically he walked slowly to the downed man, sliding the fallen gun out of reach with his foot. A finger to the throat confirmed the death. Blair put on the safety of his own gun and pulled out his cell phone. When his call was answered, he reported an officer involved shooting. Blair couldn't answer when asked where he was.

"Hold on, I'll find out."

He walked unsteadily to the old man who was cowering by the dumpster crying.

"Sir, are you okay?"

The old man didn't answer, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs.

"Sir, I am a police officer."

Blair moved his jacket to show off his badge and realised he was shaking. He could hear a voice from his phone. It sounded tinny and distant.

"Sir," he put a hand on the old man's shoulder.

The man looked up at Blair.

"Can you tell me where we are?"

Blair waved the phone to illustrate why he needed the information. Blair felt sick and swallowed hard. The old man spoke. Blair relayed the information to Dispatch.

"The alley behind the Red Dragon Restaurant on Mason and Ninth. Make sure you send an ambulance."

Reassuring himself that the old man wasn't hurt, just shocked, Blair sat down next to him trying to stop his own shakes and failing abysmally. He didn't know how long they waited, but it seemed like forever. When the unmarked police car that belonged to Robbery finally pulled into the alley way, Blair stood up and walked towards the detectives, who got out of the car. He felt bruised and sore and still felt nauseous.

"Sandburg," the bigger of the two detectives acknowledged him with a wave of his hands, "this our guy?"

"No," Blair answered. "Not our guy."

********

Blair handed his gun to Forensics when they arrived and watched in a detached isolated way as the processes that he had participated in time after time unfolded before him. It was strange to be on the outside for a change. What was stranger was not having Jim or Simon by his side. He felt the need to be with his lover, and checking with the senior detective from Robbery that it was okay to leave, Blair walked slowly back to his car crunching across the glass strewn parking lot in front of the convenience store where it had all started. Finally sitting in his car, the world shut out, he held onto the steering wheel to still the shakes. The feeling of sickness had never entirely gone and he kept seeing the dead man fall to the ground. In his memory, the body of the gunman kept melting into the body of Officer Jennings' partner. Blair took a deep breath and tried to get the keys into the ignition. His hand was shaking too much and he bit his lower lip, tasting the blood. He had an overwhelming desire to be with Jim.

Just then the driver side door was pulled open. Blair jumped and stared as a large hand gently covered his own hand and took the car keys away from him. Slowly Blair turned and looked into beautiful blue eyes. He wanted to sink into those strong arms, but knew, out here in public, it was the last thing he could do. Well, maybe not the last thing, as he concentrated on those lips.

"Blair, are you ok?"

The voice was calm and quiet and solid. A rock in his emotional storm. He couldn't answer, but allowed himself to be pulled from his car and led to Jim's truck. He noticed that his own car keys were handed to someone else. He was guided into the passenger seat of the truck and the seat belt fastened across his chest. As Jim slammed the driver side door Blair pulled himself together and looked at his partner.

"I have to go back to Major Crime. I have to make my statement."

"I know," Jim said quietly.

Blair looked at his hands, expecting to see some evidence of his act, blood perhaps, he thought cruelly.

"I killed a man, Jim. Actually it wasn't a man, it was a boy."

Jim started the engine and pulled out into traffic.

"I don't think you should say anything yet, Blair, not 'til you make your statement or we are both off duty."

There was a quality to Jim's voice that spoke of love, guilt, concern, sadness; all of which combined to imperil Blair's fragile hold on normality. He nodded in understanding not trusting his own voice to answer. The silence stretched on. Ten minutes later Jim pulled the truck over. Blair undid his seatbelt and went to open the door, when he realised they weren't at Police headquarters. Jim put his hands on Blair's shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other. He pulled Blair into a hug and Blair felt Jim's hands stroke his back. He heard the murmur of comforting words in his ear and relaxed into the embrace.

"I can't believe it," Blair said into Jim's shoulder.

"I should have been there for you, Blair. I'm so sorry. I knew I shouldn't have taken Simon's place."

Having Jim's pain to concentrate on helped Blair. He pulled away from Jim's embrace and stared firmly at his partner.

"You have nothing to feel guilty about, Jim. There was nothing you could have done."

"I didn't want this to happen to you, Chief. You know that don't you?"

Blair heard the desperate pleading in Jim's voice. He leaned back into the embrace.

"I know."

Jim kissed Blair gently on the lips.

"Ready to go?"

Blair nodded and put his seatbelt back on.

********

Acting Captain Jim Ellison interviewed Detective Blair Sandburg in Interrogation Room 2. Blair was concise, but gave all the salient details. When it was all over, Jim gave Blair his copy of the interview tape and formally explained that the second tape would be handed over to Internal Affairs. Jim stood.

"Blair, you're on desk duty until I.A. finishes their investigation."

It's okay, Jim, I understand."

There was a pause as the two men looked at each other.

"I think I'll head back to the loft, take a shower, start dinner," Blair suggested.

"Good idea, Chief. Henri has the keys to the Volvo. I asked him to park it in the garage for you."

"Thanks, Jim."

Blair gave Jim a grateful smile.

"See you later."

********

By the time Jim made it back to the loft it was after 7.00pm. He had wrangled with bureaucracy and paperwork all afternoon and despite using his newly elevated position to try and force something out of I.A., he had singularly failed to get any preliminary response to Blair's shooting. I.A. would take its own sweet time, but sometimes they were prepared to give an early indication on whether the shooting was justified or not. Jim had been involved in more officer involved shootings than he cared to remember and he knew much depended on who was given the case. Captain Dave McCluskey was on Blair's case. He was a good man, by the book, but fair. In fact he had cleared Jim in the investigation that followed the Lash shooting. Jim was reassured that Blair would get a fair crack of the whip. Not that he needed it, he chided himself.

Opening the door to the loft, Jim found Blair in the kitchen cooking. The smells of Blair's four cheese sauce assailed Jim's nose as he went to his partner and hugged him from behind. Breathing deeply, his nose in Blair's curls, he knew that Blair had showered and shaved and there was something else... Sandalwood. Blair had been meditating.

"How are you doing?" he asked as Blair relaxed into his arms

"Better than I thought," Blair answered.

The sauce turned down to simmer and the water put on to boil, Blair turned to face Jim. Arms encircling Jim's waist, Blair held on tight.

"Amazing what a little meditation can do," he muttered.

"Naomi would be proud, Chief," Jim chuckled trying to keep the lightness in the moment.

"Yeah," Blair sighed.

Jim could hear the faintest catch, the faintest undercurrent in his lover's voice that told him that Blair was putting up a damn good front.

Jim understood though, that Blair needed to hide for a while, allow his conscious brain time to do all the things it would normally do, while behind that façade, Jim had no doubt, Blair was tearing himself apart. At some point soon it would all be too much and he would have to pick up the pieces.

This had always been one of Jim's greatest fears after Blair had announced his intention to become a cop. He had a belief deep down that this was something that Blair wouldn't be able to cope with, that Blair's soul, his karma, life force, chi, call it what you will, would be irreparably damaged by taking the life of another human being. Jim had sworn to himself on the day Blair had graduated from the Academy that he would do everything he could to ensure that Blair would never be in that situation and if he failed Blair, then he would be there for his partner, to hold a hand, put the pieces back together, in fact he had vowed to do any damn thing Blair needed or wanted to make it right. If that was possible. It had come all too early in Blair's career and Jim hadn't been there. Jim knew some cops, even in these times, who had had never fired their guns in the course of duty. Why couldn't Blair be one of those?

"How long 'til we eat, Chief?" Jim asked breaking the moment.

"You have time to shower and change, if you are very quick," Blair replied, slapping Jim on the ass playfully.

As Jim headed to the bathroom, Blair returned to the cooking.

Jim opened a bottle of wine to go with Blair's dinner. He felt Blair might need a little help when it came to relaxing that evening. After the meal was finished, they stayed at the table sipping the wine and talking about everything but what had happened that afternoon. It was after 9.00pm when the last washed dish was put away. Jim went around securing the loft. Blair watched him from the couch.

"What are you doing, man? Isn't it a little early for bed?" Blair asked.

"I'm beat, Chief. I could really do with an early night."

Blair paused then responded.

"I'm down with that."

Ablutions taken care of, Jim was already in bed when Blair lifted the covers and crawled in next to him. It was as much as Jim could do to stop himself pulling Blair close and wrapping him up so that all the hurt would be chased away. He knew that Blair would recognise the gesture for what it was, and he was still trying for normal.

********

Blair's hands gently caressed Jim's chest, lightly brushing Jim's nipples and then dusting down to his stomach. Jim groaned, he loved the feel of Blair's skin against his. Blair kissed Jim lightly, concentrating on his stomach. Jim's cock stirred and he squirmed his groin to bring more of himself into contact with Blair's thigh.

"Patience," chuckled Blair.

Jim tried to pull Blair's face to his own. He wanted to kiss those lips, he wanted his tongue inside that warm sweet mouth, he wanted to plunder, but Blair had his own agenda. He shook his head at Jim's efforts to redirect his attention and laughed when Jim growled at his own failure. Then the licking started. Little laps alternating with tiny puffs of breath scattered across Jim's stomach had the older man writhing in pleasure. Then Blair did move, but it was not up to Jim's lips but down between his legs. Slowly he spread Jim's thighs and his fingers began to caress the inside of those strong legs from the groin to the knees; first fingers, then kisses, then licks. The pattern was repeated. Jim's balls and cock were studiously ignored. By now Jim was panting, the stimulation was breathtaking and his cock lay full and weeping.

"Blair... please... I want you," he urged.

Blair ignored him, continuing to lick and breathe.

"You're mine," he whispered. "I'm going to take you."

It was rare that one of them decided who was going to top. Most times the foreplay to their lovemaking brought about a natural top or bottom and they both went with the flow. Tonight Blair wanted the control and Jim was more than happy with that. He started to turn on his front.

"No."

Blair's voice stopped him; it was demanding, almost angry.

"Stay on your back. I want to see you."

Jim nodded, realising that Blair was using their lovemaking as some sort of cathartic moment. Blair went back to Jim's thighs which had momentarily been ignored. Each kiss, each lap of the tongue brought Blair closer to Jim's balls. Lying between Jim's legs with one hand being used to adjust his movements, Blair pushed his other hand to Jim's nipples. In turn each brown nub was rolled, twisted, pinched and squeezed until both stood hard and proud and Jim was almost incoherent with pleasure. Blair kissed Jim's balls and Jim arched off the bed as though stung.

"Oh my god!" he shouted.

Jim was licked, tiny little touches that tingled and teased. He was sweating. Blair pulled away briefly, grabbing the lube from the bedside table. The tongue continued on its journey. The mouth that Jim wanted to claim for himself took in one of Jim's balls. He almost howled. The arousal that had taken root in Jim's groin when Blair started on his exploration grew to a level that almost sent Jim over the edge. He wanted relief, but he wanted more, all at the same time. Blair pulled back and Jim whimpered. His legs were pushed up and apart as he felt Blair move into position. There was no preparation, no fingers loosening or spreading him, it was Blair's lubed rigid cock that demanded entrance. Blair pushed in. It wasn't hurried, it wasn't a shove or a thrust, but there was a determination that opened Jim's eyes and made him stare in awe at his partner. Blair's face was down. Was he watching himself, wondered Jim? As Blair looked up, Jim saw the tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Blair," Jim gasped.

"No," Blair insisted. "Don't."

Then he did shove hard and fast. Jim's voice was taken away. Blair withdrew nearly all the way and rammed back in. Through the near orgasmic bliss, Jim could hear Blair speak.

"I love you so much, Jim, so much, oh god, so much."

Blair came with a cry and a sob, his cock pounding into Jim. Falling forward Blair stopped himself from landing on Jim by planting his hands on either side of Jim's waist. His head was down again. Jim shook, unable to fulfil his arousal. Blair moved back, leaving Jim's tight ass and pounced on his cock. Jim had been longing for Blair's mouth since they got into bed and now he had it. Blair's mouth engulfed his cock, swallowing, sucking, biting, and nibbling. Jim was undone and came in long, deep spurts, which Blair took without murmur. Sated, both men collapsed. Blair covered Jim and when the tears came again, Jim took Blair in his arms, held him tight, promised him everything would be all right and kissed his head. As the sobs subsided, sleep came to them both.

********

Thursday

It was the alarm that woke Jim. Blair lay where he had fallen last night. He had not moved. Jim took Blair in his arms and whispered in his ear.

"Blair, it's time to wake up."

The younger man stirred and forced his eyes open. The two men stared at each other until Jim smiled and spoke again.

"I love you, Blair, and I will not let this destroy you. Believe me."

"I do, and I love you too. Thank you."

Jim knew that Blair was saying thank you for the previous night and broadened his smile in acknowledgement.

"Shower?" Jim asked.

Blair nodded, and unsticking themselves, they showered together taking a long, slow, luxurious time until cold water forced them to get out.

********

There was no doubt that Blair was good at paperwork. Blair might complain that his world was wet and cold, but in reality his world was paper; paper work, paper clips, even paper cuts from time to time and truth be told, Blair didn't mind that much. He was good at paperwork and the bureaucracy of police work meant that police paperwork was not dissimilar from University paperwork; boring, repetitive and simple to complete. Oh, and required in triplicate. Blair cleared all of his and Jim's paperwork by mid afternoon. Jim had spent the day in Simon's office, once again leaving the door open. Blair had eaten lunch at his desk and was ready at 3.00pm for his formal interview with I.A.

McCluskey did his best to put Blair at his ease and then basically went through Blair's statement of the previous day. He delved in more detail into the circumstances immediately before the shooting.

"I have to tell you, Blair. Mr. Lu has told us that he did not hear you call out a warning to Daniels before you shot him."

McCluskey sounded genuinely concerned. Blair went over the incident in his memory again.

"No, he wouldn't have done. I called out to Daniels just before the door opened. When he turned the gun on Mr. Lu, I didn't have time to give him another warning. I felt Mr. Lu was in imminent danger."

"Hmmm," McCluskey considered for a moment and then brought the interview to a close. "My men are carrying out house to house inquiries now. Most of the properties are derelict and empty, but some have occupants. Maybe one of them heard or saw something that corroborates your story."

"And if you don't find anybody?" Blair asked.

"Then I make my recommendations on the basis of the evidence I do have."

Blair knew better than to ask what that recommendation would be. Although McCluskey was a good man as far as I.A. went, he was still I.A. and they were miserable bastards at the best of times. Blair returned to Major Crime and plonked himself in front of Simon's desk and drank the coffee Jim offered him.

"How did it go?" Jim asked.

Blair smiled. "You mean you didn't listen in?"

Jim had the good grace to blush.

"It sounded okay to me."

"Yeah," Blair admitted. "McCluskey was alright, he's not a bad guy." Blair concentrated on his coffee. "I was thinking of visiting Simon if there's nothing else to do here."

"Good idea, Chief. Tell him to get well soon."

Blair laughed as he finished his coffee.

"If only you were sincere about that, Jim, I might just tell him."

"Oh I mean it, Chief. I really do. I have to get out from behind this desk and soon."

Chuckling, Blair left to visit the man in the hospital.

********

Friday

The next day followed much the same routine, only the paperwork was cleared before lunch. Blair and Jim went to Rosita's for cannelloni, where they ate garlic bread dripping with olive oil.

"Oh man, this is so bad," sighed Blair, sitting back.

"Come on, Chief, a little treat once in a while never hurt anyone and you deserve it."

Blair raised an eyebrow to ask why.

"The paperwork," Jim replied and Blair laughed.

As they were getting ready to leave Jim's bleeper went off. Blair saw the look on his face darken.

"Trouble?" he asked.

Jim nodded as he dialled his cell phone. Blair paid the bill as they hurried back to the truck. As Blair clicked his seatbelt in place, Jim closed his phone and started the engine.

"Looks like we have a bomb. There's been an explosion down on Maine by the Cannery. I need to drop you at the Station."

Blair was about to object. For a split second he had forgotten.

"Okay," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry, Chief."

"It's okay Jim. I understand."

Blair spent a quiet afternoon; he made two trips to Records, one trip to Forensics and the rest of the time he answered the phone. It was dull and boring. As people started filtering back into the office towards the end of their shift, Blair put on his jacket and once again made his way to the hospital. Simon was making a slow recovery and although the day before he had been pretty out of it during Blair's visit, Blair hoped he would be better today. Whether he was or wasn't, sitting in the hospital at Simon's bedside was better than sitting in the bullpen ignoring the sideways glimpses of those curious to know how he was holding up, even if they meant well. When the visit was over, Blair would go home and hold himself together until Jim came home to do it for him.

********

The Cannery on Maine was a small mall made up of snobby little fashionable boutiques. Or rather it had been. Now it was only good for matchsticks. The building had been completely demolished. According to the Bomb Squad Captain, they had five dead and ten seriously injured. Jim walked straight to Joel Taggart. It seemed that the former Bomb Squad Captain showed up whenever there was an explosion, despite the fact that he was no longer part of the Squad.

"Joel, what have we got?"

"It's a bad situation, Jim, but I'm not convinced it's a bomb."

"Looks pretty convincing to me," Jim said, indicating to the lack of structure. "If not, then what, Joel?"

Before Joel had a chance to reply the Fire Chief strode over.

"You were right, Joel. The report was made yesterday by one of the shop owners. Cascade Power was out to inspect this morning. They are trying to track down the engineers now. In the meantime we have three people still unaccounted for, so, if you'll excuse me gentlemen."

Without waiting for a response he strode away shouting orders.

Jim sniffed. "Gas?" he suggested to Joel.

That moment Jim heard his name called and turning he missed what was said in reply. The shout had come from McCluskey. Jim started towards the I.A. Captain but stopped and turned back to Joel.

"Give me a few minutes, Joel, and I'll help in the search."

Joel nodded and took off his jacket.

"Detective Ellison, where's your partner?" asked McCluskey.

"Riding a desk."

Jim felt a sense of unease.

"We have a witness."

Jim was not reassured and waited for McCluskey to continue.

"He was in a second storey room and claims he saw the shooting."

"That's good, isn't it?" Jim asked warily.

McCluskey put his hands in his coat pockets.

"He doesn't back up what Sandburg says."

Jim was dumbstruck.

"He's got to be lying. Sandburg would never shoot anyone willingly."

Jim took a deep breath. His head was spinning.

"According to the witness, Detective Sandburg chased the deceased, Daniels, into the alley and took a shot at him. Sandburg missed and shot a second time. He didn't miss. There was no warning and Sandburg shot Daniels in the back as he was running away."

"You can't believe that, he must be lying. Blair wouldn't..."

Jim couldn't finish the sentence. The ramifications of what McCluskey was saying hit him.

"The autopsy had already told us that the round entered from behind," McCluskey paused. "I don't have any choice, Ellison. I have to take his badge and gun."

"You are just going to accept the witness' word? Aren't you going to check him out? He is setting Sandburg up. Blair wouldn't do this."

Jim was in McCluskey's face, shouting at the man. The I.A. Captain took half a step back, but didn't accept the criticism implied in Jim's rant. He pointed at Jim.

"I know my job, Ellison, and I will check this guy out, but there is a prima facie case here and I will have his badge. He is on suspension until my investigation is finished."

Jim glared.

"I came down here out of courtesy, Ellison, to let you know before I took that step. Don't shove it back in my face," McCluskey sighed. He tried to take the sting out of the situation. "I thought you might prefer to do it." The Captain waited for a reply.

"Yeah, thanks, Captain. I appreciate that. I'll do it."

Jim felt sick.

"I'll keep you apprised of any developments."

Jim stood watching the I.A. Captain leave, stirred only from his thoughts by Joel's hand on his arm.

"Jim, we need your help."

The last thing Jim wanted to do was stay but at this moment in time he knew where his duty and his responsibility lay. He wanted to be with Blair, but given what he would have to tell the younger man he knew Blair wouldn't want to hear it. Jim's conflict was put out of his mind for the next few hours while he worked with the Cascade fire fighters to locate the missing three people; two women and a young child. The women were quickly found and freed, but the youngster was trapped deep in the debris and was not only difficult to locate, but almost impossible to reach and then to free. Eventually, in order to save the young girl's life, a doctor had to amputate her foot. In the aftermath, the two Cascade Power engineers arrived on the scene and were immediately confronted by the Fire Chief. It took Jim, Joel and another fire fighter to pull the enraged man away from the engineers. They had been in attendance that morning to a report of a gas leak and had apparently made a cursory inspection before leaving, promising to return with the right equipment. The Fire Chief insisted that the Homicide detectives on the scene check the men's blood alcohol level. In the end he dragged the two engineers over to an adjoining building to view the five body bags laid out in a sad, straight row. Both men were white-faced and shaking as they were led away by detectives.

Jim had to go back to Major Crime before heading home and so it was after 7.00pm before he put his key in the loft door. Blair was waiting.

"I saw the news, man. It was terrible. How are you doing?"

Jim sat on the couch and took the beer Blair offered.

"A seven year old girl lost a foot, five people died and a dozen were injured, all because two men were too lazy to do their job."

Jim rubbed at his temples trying to stave off the headache building up. He leaned back putting the bottle on the coffee table as Blair started to knead his tense shoulder muscles.

"That feels good."

There was a silence as Blair worked out the knots and Jim revelled in the feel of his lover's hands. He shifted his position as his body told him just how much he really was enjoying it. He heard Blair's smile and the tiny intake of breath that accompanied it.

"Blair, we need to talk," Jim said quietly.

"That's a shame because I had something else in mind," Blair teased.

Jim smiled and looked up at the man he loved. Reluctantly, he patted the seat next to him.

"Come and sit down, Chief."

"That sounds serious."

Jim sighed. "It is."

While Jim explained the impact of the witness evidence, Blair grew more and more pale.

"Why would this witness lie?" Blair was at a loss to understand. "Who is he? Why would he do this?"

"I don't know, but I am going to find out."

Blair could only nod as he stood and walked slowly to the door. He felt in the pocket of his jacket, removing the wallet that held his gold shield. He put it in Jim's hand. As he tried to remove his hand, Jim grabbed it.

"I will find out what's going on, Chief." Jim reassured the younger man.

"If... if he sticks to his statement, what's the worse that can happen?" Blair asked quietly.

"It won't come to that," Jim insisted.

"I can be arrested, can't I, charged with murder?"

Now it was difficult for Jim to speak. He forced himself.

"It won't come to that," he repeated.

Jim pulled Blair close, hugging him in arms that wanted to shield him from the harshness. Blair settled his head on Jim's chest and they stayed desperate in their embrace until the last of the light went out of the sky and the loft was plunged into darkness. Jim was first to move, needing to empty his bladder. Once the comfortable link was broken, Blair moved into the kitchen, turning on lights. He pulled a covered tray out of the fridge and put it in the oven. As Jim came out of the bathroom, Blair was putting previously prepared vegetables into saucepans.

"Anything you want me to do?"

"No, I got it all done after I got back from the hospital."

"How was Simon?"

"Better than yesterday, but still sleeping a lot. He was awake for all of five minutes while I was there. When I told him about your promotion, he laughed and said you'd better not drink his coffee."

"Did you tell him about the shooting?"

Blair shook his head.

"I didn't want to bother him." He paused and looked at Jim. "I still can't believe this is happening."

Jim sat at the dinner table, holding the unfinished bottle of beer that was now warm.

"The way I see it, whoever this witness is, he has to be trying to set you up. So we find out who he is and then I go talk to him."

Jim's smile was all teeth.

"You make is sound so easy."

"It won't be easy, Chief. I'm not entitled to see the witness statement or know who the witness is, but we do have an inbuilt advantage," Jim said knowingly.

"That's unethical."

Jim stood up and came round the table to stand next to his lover.

"I'm not going to let rules and regulations take your badge away from you, Chief. We know what the truth is, your shoot was justified and now someone is lying to put you in the firing line. Nothing will stop me from getting to the truth. You deserve at least that."

It was said quietly, but with fierceness. Jim had to make Blair understand that they were going to beat this together. The rest of the evening was spent quietly. After dinner had been taken care of they sat together on the couch watching an old film. As John Wayne took his famous pose in the doorway and the credits rolled, Jim stood, stretched and looked down.

"Bed?" he suggested.

Blair nodded, but did not move. By the time Jim had finished locking doors and windows he expected to hear Blair in the bathroom, but he was still sitting on the couch. Jim knelt between his legs rubbing his hands on Blair's thighs.

"Hey," he whispered at Blair's distant gaze.

Blair focussed on him and smiled.

"Where were you?"

"Just..."

"Processing?" Jim suggested.

"No, just wondering who could hate me enough to do this."

Jim moved further forward.

"Whoever it is and whatever the reason behind it, you have to know that I love you, Blair, and that is stronger that any hate."

Blair leaned forward and kissed Jim lightly.

"I love you, Jim Ellison."

Jim came up on his knees and taking Blair's head in his hands, he pulled him into another kiss; this one full of fire and purpose. Jim's tongue gave no quarter; he poked and prodded, dominating until he released Blair to gasps from both men. Blair slid slightly further down the couch and then they were kissing again. This time, Blair fought back and was winning until Jim's hands joined the fray. The surprisingly gentle hands went under Blair's various layers, thumbs brushing over his nipples. Blair squirmed. When Jim went for the nipple ring, Blair's groin arched up. The layers were pushed up and Jim's mouth attacked the skin of Blair's stomach. Jim could feel Blair's reactions, the way his skin tightened and how the hairs on his chest stood to attention, the way his skin heated up. He could hear Blair's heart speed up and the blood rush. Blair's breath came in gasps. When Jim undid Blair's fly, Blair was already hard and leaking. His body slipped further down and Jim thought he looked debauched.

"Jim," Blair pleaded.

Jim smiled and headed in. His mouth took Blair's cock, circling the head with his tongue, teasing the slit.

"Oh God, Jim."

Jim didn't answer, taking Blair further down his throat, allowing Blair to fuck his mouth. He sucked Blair, forcing his hips off the couch. Blair's hands were on Jim's head, holding him down. Jim used every tool in his arsenal until he had Blair a quaking mass and then he stopped, removing his mouth. Instead, a finger teased at the leaking slit. Jim covered his finger in Blair's cum and then slipped his hand under Blair's ass, reaching the puckered skin of Blair's hole. The finger nudged inside and Jim's mouth went back to Blair's cock. It was too much for Blair, and as the finger went past the first knuckle he came, grunting and exploding down Jim's throat. When Blair softened in his mouth, Jim looked up and saw the post orgasmic haze in his lover's eyes, the flush on his cheeks. Jim pushed his finger further in and Blair squirmed deliciously.

"I want you, Blair. Here. Now."

Blair nodded incapable of speech. In fact it took some considerable time before Blair could utter anything intelligible. Jim took him there on the couch and then again in bed. When Jim finally let Blair sink into oblivion, it was with the thought that he had fucked his lover senseless and for tonight, at least, he would sleep the sleep of the sated. Jim smiled as he slipped into the sleep of the almost sated.