Tuesday

“What are you thinking?” Blair asked into the silence.

Jim let his gaze sweep across the park, only lighting on the
windswept trees basking in warm spring sun. There were a dozen things
he could say; silly things, useless things. He could take his pick
and still not say anything that mattered. Instead, he shifted on his
seat at the picnic table and vaguely hoped Blair wouldn't press the
issue.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Jim glanced back down to the bowl in front of him,
keeping his mind deliberately blank.

Blair kept his voice level, noncomittal. "What are you thinking?"

Haphazardly, Jim chose a thought, virtually at random, “That I can’t
believe you talked me into eating noodles.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“Not today, no.”

Blair was silent again, then when he spoke, his voice was soft and
almost gentle – almost. “In that case, what are you feeling?”

The question caught Jim off-guard; he’d assumed the conversation
wouldn’t get so intense so quickly – if ever at all, ever again. It
was against the rules - his rules. But then again, wasn't this quiet
lunch in the park against the rules as well? And this had been his
suggestion. But he was still unable to gather his thoughts properly
so his only reaction was autonomic. He took in a deep breath, letting
it out slowly, his response along with it. “Sad.”

He kept his eyes on a patch on the wooden table, deliberately
allowing his Sentinel sight to examine the threads of the surface,
the rough edges no normal eye could ever see. It was the only way he
could keep his focus, concentrate enough to say nothing more than
that single word – because more words would only ruin the tacit peace
they’d arranged. So much time and effort to get this far. So much
wasted time. Horrible time he would forget if he could; freeze dry
and never look at it again. Weeks of misery so dark it seemed
impossible that before the bad times, there had in fact, been good
times. The shadow was more than capable of blotting out that month or
so of pure sunshine. Blair had forced this peace upon them - and Jim
had set down the rules. All to rebuild a friendship both secretly
believed was beyond hope - and yet, they both continued to work at
it, fraily, hesitantly, dangerously. But they had to try - and what
they had now was so much better than last week - or the weeks before.
Much better. But still Jim had to be careful, had to damp down his
thoughts, go nowhere near what he really wanted to say, wanted to do.
Another of his rules. Rules Blair had agreed to and now broke. Rules
Jim didn't think of reminding Blair of.

It was some moments before he risked a glance at Blair – and nearly
fell off the seat with shock when he saw tears falling silently down
that face, eyes wide and almost turquoise blue in the midday shade.
Blair was staring… not at him, exactly, but almost through him, as
though he were trying to see a Jim from the past, rather than this
one before him. But the look in those eyes stayed anything Jim might
have said. Instead, his hand shaking a little, he reached out and
touched Blair’s, watched the focus slip and change until it caught up
with the present. There was a split second when Blair’s hand moved
under his – and then the moment was gone, leaving behind only a trail
of open tragedy Jim couldn’t ignore.

He took the dead applecore from Blair’s other hand then collected his
empty noodle bowl. Trying to give Blair a moment, Jim stood and took
the refuse to the bin and dropped it inside. In the distance, he
could hear children playing, guys in a game of touch football on the
other side of the park. Again deliberately, he dialled up his hearing
to focus on the heartbeat of the man seated behind him, a sound that
was as familiar to him now as his own. It beat steadily, if a little
hard, but Blair seemed to be gathering himself. So Jim turned and
watched him unobserved for the first time. Blair now sat with his
back to Jim, his elbows on the table, hands together. All Jim could
see of his face were the long black curls, shoulders hunched
slightly.

Walking up to him, Jim reached out a hesitant hand and smoothed down
one strand of that hair. Instantly, Blair leaned into the touch – and
almost as quickly, stiffened and moved away.

“Please, Jim, don’t.”

Jim didn't ask why. He already knew far more than he wanted to know.
He dropped his hand and returned to his seat opposite Blair, not
looking at him this time. Perhaps they should have kept to the rules
and not spent any time alone together. This was exactly the reason
why Jim had insisted on it - and yet, it had been him who had
suggested the two of them have lunch in the park together. Why? Why
had he done that? He'd not even thought of it in the month or so
since Blair had agreed to come back to work. Why now?

But answers eluded him and again the silence drew out, neither empty
nor tense, nor anything in particular. It was a kind of non-space
between sentences neither man was able to fill. Like an actor
standing on stage, waiting for a cue that’s going to come late;
unable to do or say anything until that cue came.

Eventually, Jim wrote a line of his own, nothing much, just a few
words to empty the silence a little. “You okay now?”

“Sure,” Blair gave a short laugh, brittle, harsh. “Why not?”

Now Jim did look at him, and caught his breath at the look on Blair’s
face. Tears again, filling the eyes, but these were hot, the blue
caught up in a tirade of anger and determination. The chin lifted,
nostrils flared in what could have been fury except that Jim had
never seen Blair really furious so had no basis for comparison.

Except that he did know. This was his Guide and he did know.

Jim swallowed. He concentrated on Blair wholly and completely,
listening to the heart thudding against ribs, the short breaths, full
and contained.

Contained.

That was exactly the right word to describe him in this moment.
Contained. Blair Sandburg was containing himself in the face of Jim’s
stupid question. And doing it very well at that.

But who would have thought he was capable of it? That bundle of
irrepressible energy  which had filled his life for the last three
years, facing up to endless challenges and threats with equanimity?
Really, Blair Sandburg? Contained? Determined not to budge an inch?
Not to give in?

His Blair?

And Jim stopped breathing altogether because he’d seen something for
the first time here, something he’d never seen before and it
horrified him so much he couldn’t afford even the smallest sense of
touch, the most minute taste.

He’d done this. To Blair.

This most generous, giving, open and gregarious of creatures was
sitting across the table from him, eyes blaring fury and obsidian
determination and allowing nothing of his feelings to come out,
nothing left hanging where Jim could touch it, swat it, hurt it.
Nothing. Blair had withdrawn into himself so far there was only that
anger left. Blair would never let Jim see anything else because he
couldn’t trust Jim not to hurt it.

Jim had done all this.

Blair had given him so much in the first wild weeks they were
together, four long months ago. Weeks now dulled by pain and regret.
Weeks where his life had taken on a different colour and texture and
so much of it had been wrapped up in what Blair had given of himself.
In fact, Blair had done little more than give to Jim since that first
day in the hospital three years ago. But that was his nature, the
kind of man he was. To Blair, giving was as easy as breathing –
sometimes, even easier than that. He lived it, believed it, wanted
it.

And Jim had done something to him to end all that. Blair wasn’t
giving anything now – and worse, he was protecting himself so Jim
couldn’t take anything either, which was his habit, his nature.

So what was it that he saw in those eyes, that fury that sent such a
warm glow right through the pit of his stomach?

Could it be the determination? So solid, so unbreakable? Was that
what was taking his breath away? Filling his head and making him
dizzy?

Blair Sandburg wasn’t going to budge an inch – so if Jim was going to
win him back, he would have to make that all-important first move…

?

Win him back?

Swiftly, Jim glanced away, carving off time to have his own
mini-crisis. No, it was okay. No threat of a zone. Nope, he was still
breathing and it was all okay. Yep. Fine.

Win him back?

Yeah, have to.

Sure?

Yeah.

How?

No idea. Dunno why yet. Don’t ask.

“Hey, Chief?”

“What?”

Jim swallowed, “Let’s walk.”

“Why?”

“Cause sitting on this wooden seat is going to get my arse full of
splinters.”

He stood and turned for the path, not giving Blair a chance to make a
wisecrack – nor even smile. Jim was sure – but he still needed time
to think, to work it out, exactly how… what…. Christ, what was he
doing! Hadn’t they ended it? Thoroughly and completely? Almost three
months together, the last month of that driving them both into hell
and back? Wasn't it all supposed to be finished? God, it had been
impossible then, to make it work. Hadn't there already been enough
heartache, enough hurt, enough misery to last them both a lifetime?
What the hell was he thinking? God, he must be mad…

No, not mad – just sure. There was a whole world of difference.

He wanted Blair back.

Not just back part-time, at work, to help out, no. He wanted Blair
back in his life, in the loft, in his bed and in his heart.

Worse still - that's what he'd always wanted - though why it had
taken him until now to see it was another matter.

The silence opened up between them again as they wandered through the
park on the way back to the station. Before crossing the road, Jim
came to a kind of decision, a kind of plan but knowing how to open
his mouth and put it into words was really not working for him.

In the end, he didn’t need to be the first one to speak; Blair saved
him that much. “I’m not going back.”

“What?” Jim frowned, not understanding.

“To the station. I’m not going back to work.”

Jim came to a halt, scrambling every ounce of control he had together
to quell the streak of panic that shot from his gut to his eyeballs.
“Why not?”

Blair shrugged, “Got some stuff to do at the U, a lecture to prepare
and some papers to grade. Since nothing much is happening here I
thought I might spend the afternoon…” Blair’s voice dropped off as he
stared at Jim openly, the anger returning, his eyes narrowing. “You
thought I meant… oh, shit, Jim! How could you, man! I told you when
we broke up, I won’t let anything come between me and the
Guide/Sentinel thing. Christ, I would have thought the last month
would have proven my intentions to you! I don’t believe this!”

Jim could have blustered – but didn’t bother. After three years,
there was no point in trying to convince Blair he couldn’t read Jim
like a book. They both knew it was true. “Sorry. It was just a
moment. Won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, sure.” Blair dropped his head, hands on his hips and Jim could
only stand there and wait for the mood to cool a little.

Oops, nearly threw the whole thing right there and then. And now he
would have to wait because an angry Blair would never agree to what
Jim had to ask him and there was nothing else Jim could say that
would put Blair into an amenable frame of mind.

But eventually, Blair nodded and turned to cross the street with him.
Jim waited until they were on the other corner, having to stop
himself from actually reaching out and grabbing Blair’s arm to make
him halt. Blair was all ready to wave a goodbye, murmur words about
seeing him at the station tomorrow – but Jim had to stop him now,
today, this minute because if he didn’t do this now he knew as surely
as the sun was shining through Blair’s dusky curls, that he would
never find the courage again.

“Chief?”

“Yeah?”

Blair was hardly paying attention. Instead, he was frowning down the
road, trying to pick the movement of traffic in order to dart across
to where his car was parked.

“Would you have dinner with me?”

“What?” Another frown, deeper, distracted.

Jim raised his voice a little, “Would you have dinner with me?
Tonight?”

Like water into a dry sponge, the words sank into Blair from the
bottom up, leaving his head the last thing to turn slowly to face
Jim.

Nothing. Not the slightest lift of an eyebrow, the merest quirk of a
lip. Nothing. Not even an accelerated heartbeat. Blair was so
contained now as to be almost invisible to Jim's heightened senses.

Good God, what had he done?

But Blair hadn’t answered, one way or the other. Nor had he laughed
in scorn and walked off. No. Then again, Jim couldn’t really tell if
that was a good thing or a bad thing. Best not to make a decision
either way when the only thing he had to go on was a stony-faced
Blair surrounded by noisy, smelly traffic, holding Jim’s life in one
careless hand, his own in the other.

Blair stepped away from the curb and faced Jim squarely. “You want me
to have dinner with you? Tonight?”

“That’s right.”

“You want to discuss Sentinel stuff?”

Jim began to roll his eyes – but managed to stop himself before Blair
could hit him. “No, Sandburg, this has nothing at all to do with
that.”

“Oh?” Still implacable, ungiving, immobile. So perfectly, terribly
contained. Jim wanted to pick him up, turn him upside down and shake
him until something of the real Blair Sandburg could fall out onto
the pavement and then Jim would know that he hadn’t been abducted by
aliens and replaced with this motorised, shop-front dummy.

“Yeah,” Jim kept his voice level, but didn’t take his eyes from his
guide. “Will you?”

“Well,” Blair glanced away momentarily, but soon captured Jim’s gaze
once more, his blue eyes flinty hard. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether it’s just dinner – or a date.”

And just like that, Blair pushed Jim out onto the edge of the knife.
Hastily, he glanced down to either side of the razor-sharp blade and
took a good look at how a fall either way would bring reckless
destruction to both their lives. The thing he was standing on was a
decision and, as though he’d sent every sense he had through that
sharp steel, he knew every ounce of what that decision was, what it
meant and what it didn’t mean.

Should he tell the truth? Or should he lie?

Should he tell Blair the safe answer – but then who was to say what
Blair thought was safe any more and he’d never seemed to mind danger
too much when they were working in the line of fire and oh god, I
want to kiss him right here and now, on the street, in front of the
station and it’s all I can do to keep my hands to my sides and god,
what am I going to say?

The truth, Jimbo.

Are you sure?

This is Blair. What else should you ever give him but the truth?
Plain and simple. That’s the only thing he’ll ever respond to. Go
ahead, try it.

Jim had to swallow to loosen his throat. “A date. I want us to go on
a date. Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

The containment sat around the younger man like the shield of armour
it was – but then, oddly, a quirky smile turned up one corner of his
mouth, as though twelve or so facial muscles had broken solidarity
with the others and were now being ostracised. As they were brought
back into the fold, the smile vanished and Blair favoured him with
one single nod. “Okay. Pick me up?”

“At seven?” Jim was almost breathless as he added, “Formal.”

“Formal?” Got him a raised eyebrow, another tiny chink revealed.

“Yeah.”

Blair took another step towards the curb, shooting a glance at the
traffic. He was timing his exit carefully. “Formal. I guess that
means I have to tie my hair back.”

No no no no! Shit, I didn’t mean that! Shit, Jimbo change your mind.
Buy the man a damned pizza!

But no such words came out of him, “Sure, if you like.”

And that was probably the best thing he could have said because the
look Blair shot him was absolutely amazing, piercing, striking every
ounce of fear both out and into Jim at the same time. He was left at
the end feeling as drained as a soggy dishrag.

“See you at seven then.” Blair lifted a hand and ducked across the
road, slipping between cars and trucks in a manner that both
delighted and scared Jim at the same time. But he could no more move
and shift into blessed protector mode than he could sprout wings and
fly.

Blair was going out with him. Tonight. He was going to dinner with
Blair. A date. With Blair. Tonight.

And he still had six hours to wait.

*

The Volvo started first time for once and Blair pulled into the
traffic without so much as a glance at Jim in the mirror. He couldn't
stop his fingers from gripping the wheel until his knuckles were
white - but the rest of him remained in tact. Couldn't even let go
once he was around the corner because he knew his sentinel so well he
knew Jim would track him down the road and across town to make sure
he got to Rainier in one piece. So Blair kept it together, keeping
his mind in neutral, choosing streets he was familiar with until he
drew into the car park outside his office building. Collecting his
backpack from the trunk, he wandered inside, up the stairs and into
the poky little room he was supposed to do so much earth-shattering
work in. He glanced at his watch. Eighteen minutes since he'd left
Jim standing on the side of the road outside the station. He waited
until it crossed over to thirty minutes and then slowly released his
reaction.

Idly, he watched his hands begin to shake. He felt suddenly thirsty
but spilled water as he poured it from the bottle on his desk.
Attempts to clear it up only saw him knock a pile of papers off and
onto the floor. He knelt down to pick them up and knocked his shin on
the filing cabinet. He let out a howl of pain then stuffed his hand
into his mouth.

Only then did he notice how hard his heart was beating, how fast, how
fucking furious.

God. Oh, god almighty. God, any god listening, please
pleasepleaseplease don't let him change his mind. No phone call in an
hour to tell him it had been a mistake. No waiting till half past
eight before calling Blair and saying he had to work.

He had no way of telling if any of the deities so called had heard
his silent prayer, but his body had given up trying to cover the
reaction he'd buried so deep inside him. Forgetting the papers, he
sank to the floor, huddled inside himself and kept his last self
control focused on silencing the sobs which racked his body, pounded
his head.

How in hell had he done it? Keeping his heart beating steady and
level, stopping his hands from trembling. How had he managed to crush
everything he was to the point where Jim had absolutely no idea of
how he felt? Where had he learned such self control from?

Who else, but Jim?

In this, as in many other things, Blair was the student, Jim the
master. Oh, he'd watched Jim all through that harsh lunch, their
first moments alone together in a month. Watched him eat his noodles,
watched him watching Blair, knowing he saw the tears Blair hated so
much. The tears which had begun falling the moment Blair had seen the
unguarded look of complete despair on Jim's face - right before he'd
admitted to feeling only sad.

Sad?

Sad?

If Blair had been completely illiterate he would have been able to
read the words flashed in clear letters across Jim's face - and the
amazing thing was, Jim appeared to be utterly unaware that he had
given so much away.

And in that moment, he'd broken Blair's heart.

All his resolve, all his determination to have nothing more to do
with Jim was attacked in that one moment; dried up into one single
point to stop him from reacting, from giving anything away. He had to
concentrate on self-preservation and nothing else. Had to focus on
all the promises he'd made to himself about keeping the friendship
going on whatever level was necessary for them to continue working
together while he was still here. All the vows about remaining
oblivious to the physical presence of the man, of keeping his heart
encased in lead, all the words he'd shouted to himself in the silence
of his apartment, empty and alone. All the nights he'd spent trying
not to remember how it had felt not to sleep alone, to feel alone, to
be alone. Hours in the darkness, striving to rid himself of images of
Jim touching him, kissing him, knowing him, moving inside him, giving
of himself to Blair.

But he'd not realised how much there was to forget. Not just the past
four weeks of hell, but the almost three months before that. Not the
bad parts, but the good parts, the bits that, for so long, had made
the bad seem not so bad.

With a groan, he got himself up off the floor. He gathered together
the papers and stuck them back on his desk, angry with himself,
furious for being so weak, so vulnerable.

Jim had asked him out. On a date. Why?

And he'd said yes. Again, why?

They'd never been on a date before. Not even in the beginning. No,
they'd basically just hopped into bed, had a great time, and built
everything else up from there. Only it had all fallen down, hadn't
it?

So what did Jim want? A repeat of the same? A quick fuck with a guy
he knew was a good lay? A few hours forgetting everything they'd been
to each other, all the horrible things they'd said and done to each
other since?

No. Jim wasn't so cold and shallow. At least, he'd never been before.
Now?

Well, he wasn't going to waste the afternoon wondering about it. He
had work to do and he was damned sure not going to let Jim Ellison
ruin his entire life. He had five hours to get ready. Five hours in
which to school himself once again against reacting in any physical
way to Jim. He'd done it once and he could do it again. No matter
what Jim said, he wasn't going to budge. He couldn't afford to. He
had nothing left to give Jim but himself - and that was something
he'd only just got back. It was now too precious to waste on anybody.

No matter how much Blair might want that anybody.

_________________________________

Four months before
 

The band launched into another pounding rhythm as Blair squeezed
himself between the press of people at the bar. Carefully juggling
three glasses against spillage, he manoeuvred between tables until he
reached the one by the wall to find Simon and Jim huddled together.
Simon appeared to be making a damned fine attempt to tell Jim a joke
- but with all this noise, Jim had his hearing dialled right down and
seemed to be struggling. With a half-drunk grin, Blair deposited the
glasses on the table and resumed his seat.

"And they got in the car," he could hear Simon say, an edge of
impatience audible over the noise, "but they had the wrong key!"

"The wrong what?" Jim yelled, frowning.

"The wrong key!" Simon bellowed.

Jim frowned deeper, seemed to think hard for a moment, then gave up a
half-hearted smile and nodded, as though he'd gotten the joke.

Simon grunted, shook his head and threw Blair an exasperated grimace.
He sipped his coke and almost spat it out. He'd nominated himself as
the designated driver and seemed to be regretting it.

"Hey, Chief!"

Blair looked up at Jim to find a pleasantly fuzzy smile on the older
man's face. "Yeah?"

"Get Simon to tell you his joke. S'funny."

"Man, you're drunk." Blair laughed, "How would you know?"

"Hey, I've got a sense of humour."

"Yeah," Simon interjected, "you know, Sandburg, the way pigs fly!"

Unable to help himself, Blair laughed again but shook his head in
defiant defence of his partner, "Simon, that is so not fair. Jim can
almost be amusing - when you get to know him. Once you get past the
colour coded containers and the house rules."

"Sandburg!" Jim warned, looking reasonably affronted for a man who
had been drinking consistently for the last three hours - but that
didn't stop Blair. After all, Simon was the only man alive Blair
could say these things to.

"No, no, I don't want to be unfair," Blair paused only long enough to
take a large swallow of his beer. "We did trash the colour coding a
little while ago - but hey, with sentinel senses, Jim knows when I've
left a towel on the bathroom floor before he even gets into the loft.
I mean, how anal can you get?"

Simon roared with laughter and Jim's eyes sparked before he thudded a
playful punch into Blair's arm.

"Hey, big guy," Blair went on, pressing his advantage now that he had
one, "it's okay, really. In most tribal societies there's somebody
who takes the role of the rule maker."

"Yeah," Jim finally came up with a response, "and is there also a
rule breaker? You know, the know-it-all who never stops quoting
previous history to give you long enough to live it down?"

Now it was Blair's turn  to open his mouth with nothing to say. Jim
took his advantage. "Hell, how did ancient societies survive without
a resident anthropologist? Surprised they lasted as long as they
did!"

Simon laughed again, emptied his glass and came to his feet. "Right,
you guys, home time. You might not have to work tomorrow but your
driver does. Drink up."

The air outside in the street would normally have frozen Blair's
breath - but he was warm from the bar and the laughter and the first
truly relaxing night they'd had for a long time. But the street was
icy and he slipped - only to find his Blessed Protector catch him in
time before he could do any damage.

"Careful there, Chief," Jim murmured in his ear as Simon opened car
doors. "Don't want any more broken bones. I like my Guides to stay in
one piece."

Blair could only grin. Jim had so many guides - and he'd broken all
the others. The silly thought made him laugh, bringing a questioning
look from Jim. Blair just shook his head and leaned into the warmth
of Jim's arm around his shoulders. Seems he was drunker than he
thought.

Jim tumbled him into the back of the car and took the front seat
himself. Without a word, Simon turned into the traffic and Blair
leaned back, getting comfortable and watching the streetlights
flicker past. He heard Simon speak but didn't catch the words. But he
did hear Jim's deep laughter, a rumble from his chest that made Blair
forget about how cold the car was in comparison to the bar.

Yeah, laughter makes the world go round. No, that's supposed to be
love makes the world go round. But they go together don't they? Love
and laughter? Couldn't have one without the other, could you? Just
wouldn't work like that.

But Blair had laughter but no love. Not the best way to live, but it
was better than nothing and in his life, he'd learned to take what
life gave him for free, to cherish it and appreciate it. Jim's
laughter came for free - and often at that. And if there ever came a
day when he had to live without Jim's laughter, he would have lots to
remember.

He frowned out the window. Now why had that thought speared into him?
Why would he have to live without Jim's laughter?

Well, be honest here: Jim was a cop and had already, in the last
three years alone, been closer to mortal danger than Blair would have
thought possible and still survive. So it wasn't impossible that one
day, Jim might not survive and so… and so…

One day, Blair might not have his Blessed Protector around.

Suddenly the cold of the car, of the winter appeared a balmy heat
compared to the chill that settled in his stomach like a brick.

Live without his best friend? Without Jim?

"Hey, Chief, whas up with you?" Jim was leaning over the front seat
and watching him with genuine concern. Unguarded for a moment, Blair
met his gaze, barely able to see the familiar ice blue in the
near-darkness. But he also knew Jim would be able to see him
perfectly - so he quickly put his happy-drunk face back on and
obfuscated without pausing.

"Just thinking about life, man, you know, the good and the bad.
Forget it." Silly thing was, one day he would have to - live without
Jim, that was. After all, one day, he was going to finish his
dissertation and then…

"I never picked you as a morose drunk," Jim replied, not really
believing but prepared to go along with it.

And then… What? Leave Cascade to follow the work, what else?

Yeah, what else?

Nah, can't think about this tonight. Worry about it when it happens.

"Okay, we're here. 852 Prospect." Simon announced. "Can you two make
it up on your own or do you need a police escort?"

"Already got one thanks," Blair quipped - then ruined it all by
finding his hand unable to open the passenger door. He fumbled for a
minute, leaning on it - then almost fell into the snow as Jim opened
it for him. For the second time that night, he found himself wrapped
up in the warmth of his sentinel and he liked it a lot. He didn't
even realise Simon had driven off until he turned and found the car
gone. Then Jim carefully led him into the building.

The stairs took on a life and identity of their own as the two men
stumbled and giggled their way upwards. One minute the steps were the
same old ones he'd always known - the next, they were shifting and
moving and for a moment, Blair wondered if he was going to keep his
dinner down. Then Jim's strong arm around his shoulders steadied him
and they made rapid progress until they reached the loft.

But then it was Jim's turn to display the effects of the alcohol.
Even with sentinel touch, his hands seemed to have great difficulty
getting the key in the lock - so much so that Blair had to take them
from him and do it himself. This engendered another batch of laughter
as they stumbled into the living room, each taking a side of the door
and leaning back to steady themselves.

Blair was the first to move, weaving a crooked line to the nearest
soft horizontal surface: the couch. He sank into blissful depths and
closed his eyes - only to open them again when he sensed a presence
standing over him.

"What is it, man? Can you just let the dying die?"

"Keys, Chief."

"What about them?"

"Have to go in the basket or I'll lose them in the morning."

"Then put them in the basket, Jim," Blair spoke patiently, as one
speaks to a particularly thick child. "Go on, it's just there, by the
door, in the same place it always is. I promise I haven't moved it
since this morning."

"Yeah," Jim brought even more of exactly the same tone into his
voice, "but you've still got 'em in your hand."

"I have?" Blair raised his hand and realised he did indeed still hold
the keys. "Oops. Broke house rule number 467. Sorry. Guess I'll be
scrubbing the bathroom with my toothbrush for the next month."

"Nah," Jim replied deadpan, plucking the keys from Blair's hand and
tossing them into the basket. "Just a fortnight this time."

"You're so good to me, big guy."

"'Sno problem. You're my friend. 'Swhat friends are for. Shift over."

Absently, Blair moved his legs to give Jim access to some of the
couch. The big policeman plumped down beside him and Blair decided
that if he sat up the room was less likely to spin around him.
However, the speed of his action made it momentarily worse and he let
out an involuntary groan.

"Hey, Chief, you okay?" Jim's hand was on his back, rubbing small
circles between his shoulder blades.

"Yeah, in a sec. Don't stop."

"Sure." Jim's impromptu back rub continued and Blair leaned into it,
giving his stomach every chance to calm down. After a moment, it did
and Blair rested back, his head fitting neatly into the curve of
Jim's shoulder.

For long minutes, silence filled the loft as Blair continued getting
his reaction to the alcohol under complete control. However, it had
it's limits - as he realised it had been so long since he'd last
spoken. "Jim, you feeling okay? Not sick or anything."

"Nope, feel fine. You?"

"Okay now."

"Great."

Another silence - and for reasons Blair couldn't quite pinpoint, this
one had none of the ease of the last. But he didn't move, even though
he knew his ability to analyse anything more than a sheet of blank
paper was pretty much gone. He just stayed where he was, letting his
eyes close again for a few heartbeats.

He woke with a start. His eyes flipped open, not recognising the
walls of his bedroom. But no, it was okay - he was in the living room
and… apparently he'd fallen asleep with his head on Jim's shoulder.
Gingerly, he took a quick look at the clock - two hours. Shit! He was
going to have a sore neck in the morning. Suppressing a sigh, he
turned his head to see if Jim was awake. The other man just opened
his eyes as he did so.

"Hey, Chief," Jim ran a hand over his head, glancing at the clock
himself. "Hell! Damn good thing I don't have to work tomorrow -
though I suppose you'll be spending the day grading papers or
something."

"Yeah," Blair murmured, strangely breathless as he watched Jim's face
in profile. "I suppose I'd better go to bed."

Jim nodded and turned with half a smile on his face - which froze the
moment his gaze locked on Blair's.

Long seconds stretched as neither man moved a single muscle. Blair
could feel his heart pounding beneath his ribs but for the life of
him, couldn't think of a single reason why it would. And then, when
he thought he might know, he found himself leaning towards Jim and…
and Jim was leaning towards him and … and… Blair lifted his face
towards the bigger man and suddenly… suddenly their lips touched.

Sensations exploded in his head as the pressure against his mouth
relaxed then intensified. Half a moan escaped him as Jim's hand came
up to touch his face. He felt Jim's tongue brush against his own and
he tasted beer and something else but it was so incredible and
wonderful and it made his heart lift his mind soar his ears buzz his
eyes blind and he never wanted it to end that first kiss so complete
and so real and so incredibly perfectly exactly what he wanted.

"Oh, god," he murmured when they finally parted for air.

"Wrong guy," Jim whispered, his fingers caressing Blair's cheek,
bringing a thumb to rest against Blair's chin in one of the most
erotic gestures Blair had ever felt. "Just me."

"No," Blair closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, letting
it rest against Jim's forehead, "I was right the first time."

A soft, gentle chuckle escaped Jim and he lifted Blair's face. With
his thumb still on Blair's chin, he leaned in for another kiss, this
time, pressing Blair to open to him more and Blair rolled with it,
hungrily tasting again the essence of Jim Ellison in a way he'd never
expected, never thought about but only now realised, he wanted very
much. The kiss was sweet and tender as Jim explored his mouth, tongue
rasping against Blair's, his teeth tugging against the bottom lip,
his hand forever holding Blair's face. With a belated mental hiccup,
Blair realised he was getting hard.

"God, Jim, stop." He breathed, hardly able to believe he'd just said
that.

Jim moved back a little until he could see Blair's expression. "You
mean stop? Or stop for a moment?"

A shy smile escaped Blair as he gazed in awe into those blue eyes.
"Just long enough for me to catch my breath - since you take it
away."

Now it was Jim's turn to smile shyly. Silence reigned for a moment,
then Jim looked down, his hand leaving Blair's face long enough to
entwine his fingers in Blair's. "Listen, you know, if you don't think
you want… I mean, I'll understand if you don't… you know… want to be
sitting here kissing a guy… well, I guess…"

"It's a bit of a surprise," Blair helped him out - and was rewarded
with a brief glance and another smile.

"Yeah, it is." Jim swallowed again. "Look, Blair, you're drunk, I'm
drunk…"

"Kiss me again," Blair murmured.

Jim didn't wait for a second invitation. Instead, he pulled Blair
close and this time kissed him with a passion that really did take
Blair's breath away. Almost instinctively, he shifted until his body
melted into Jim's, no longer afraid to let the man know just how
thoroughly he was aroused. A silent shriek of delight swept through
him when he felt a hardness press against his own.

Then Jim was leaving kisses along his jaw in a path to his earlobe
and Blair was breathing heavily, his hands roaming down Jim's back.

"Chief?"

"Yes, Jim?"

"Just in case, you know, just in case we are drunk and everything…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, maybe we shouldn't do anything too involved right now."

"What?" Blair froze and pulled back, unable to hide his instant
embarrassment.

Immediately, Jim pulled him close again, "No, that's not what I mean.
God, Blair I want you so much… but I don’t want to," he paused,
laughing lightly.

"What?"

"I was going to say I don't want to fuck anything up."

Blair managed a chuckle of his own. "Yeah, right."

Jim moved until he could look into Blair's eyes. A long moment
drifted by before he said anything. Then the words tumbled out,
"Blair would you sleep with me?"

Frowning slightly, Blair murmured, "You mean sleep - or sleep?"

"I mean, come upstairs with me, get into my bed with me and let me
hold you while we go to sleep."

Despite his disappointment, Blair knew Jim was right. He had to admit
his head was still pretty fuzzy - and Jim looked to be in a similar
condition. If this was just the alcohol playing games with them -
they would both regret it if they actually made love tonight. But if
it wasn't, and this… thing was really real, there would be plenty of
time to run with it tomorrow.

With a smile, he brushed his fingers over Jim's lips, gratified - and
thrilled when Jim caught one between his teeth and tugged gently. For
what seemed like several minutes, Blair couldn't take his eyes from
it. Then eventually his gaze met Jim's, "Let's go."

Jim laughed, slightly hysterically and lurched to his feet. Taking
Blair's hands in his, he pulled the smaller man up and wrapped his
arms around him. Blair simply held on, knowing the moment would have
to end soon and so not wanting it to. Then Jim was leading him up the
stairs. When they got to the top, Jim kicked off his shoes, peeled
his jeans away and threw them over the chair. Blair did his best not
to watch, not trusting himself to keep to his promise about just
sleeping. Instead, he removed his own shoes, shirt and jeans until he
was covered in only t-shirt and boxers - the same as Jim. Then he
realised they were just standing there, looking at each other.

The silliness of the moment caught up with him and he let out a
half-stifled giggle.

Jim's eyebrows rose in a gesture painted with sudden self-doubt.
"What is it?"

"Nothing," Blair murmured, responding to that expression with a wide,
genuine smile. "Just that I never knew how much warmer it is up here
than in my room."

Jim grinned, "Yeah, it is now." He reached forward and took Blair's
hand again, pulling the covers back with the other. With firm
insistence - which Blair didn't even try to resist - he got Blair
under the blankets, immediately pressing forward for another kiss
Blair eagerly joined in with. His head swam but this time it wasn't
the alcohol. This time the reason was very solid and ridiculously
real and made his guts ache, his toes curl and his blood pound. He
wasn't sure he had ever been so turned on by a kiss in his entire
life.

Eventually, they broke apart, breathless and not a little awed. Then
Jim smiled again, "Sleep, Chief."

"Uh, sure, Jim." Blair gave him a smile of his own then rolled over
so Jim could spoon up against his back. Instantly, Jim's arms came
around him, pulling him closer. The warmth, the touch of Jim along
his body was amazing. Unfamiliar and yet welcome, unusual and yet
unsurprising. Blair laid a hand on Jim's left, which was gently
stroking his stomach. More than anything, he wanted to pull that hand
down further - but he resisted the temptation. There would be time
for that tomorrow - if it turned out they still wanted it.

And without being able to answer why, Blair was sure he would.

Jim shifted against him, snuggling his upper body in closer,
breathing in Blair's ear. "God, Chief, you smell so good."

"I do?" Blair asked, somewhat surprised.

"Sure. Sweet and complex and masculine. Nice."

Blair settled with that for a moment - then thought of something
important. For some reason, he wasn't tired any more - though it
might have something to do with the aching hardness between his legs.
"Jim?"

"Mmn?"

"You ever been… er with a … man before?"

"Never." Jim replied instantly, his voice betraying how awake he was.
"I guess I can recognize a good-looking guy just like anyone else -
but I've never wanted to take one to bed before tonight. What about
you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, ever been with a guy before?"

"Uh, no."

"Think about it?"

"Before tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Nuh."

"Thought so."

Blair shifted a little and trembled as Jim caught his ear between
gentle teeth. "Is that why?"

"Why what?"

"Why you want to take it slowly?"

Jim groaned, "I don't want to, I just think we should."

"You think?"

"Hey, I do that sometimes. Just 'cause you're the brains in this
outfit, doesn't mean I can't string a useful thought together
occasionally - even if I am drunk."

"Oh, I didn't know."

A chuckle escaped the sentinel as he sent his tongue along the top of
Blair's ear. "That I think?"

"No," Blair replied, a little subdued, "that you think I'm the brains
in this outfit."

"Well, s'obvious, isn't it?"

"No."

"Well, it is to me. Now be quiet and let's get to sleep."

"Sure, except that - " Blair paused, not wanting to admit the truth.

"What?"

"I'm not sleepy."

Another chuckle escaped the bigger man and Blair wanted to sing with
the joy of it all. "Me neither."

With that, Blair turned his head until he could capture that mouth
again, even if a little awkwardly. Jim's tongue worked on him like
fire, setting him alight all the way from the top of his head to the
tips of his toes. God, he was never going to sleep again in his
entire life if this went on much longer.

Then Jim's face was in his hair again, his voice a soft whisper.
"God, Blair you do smell so good, feel so good, taste so good."

"Really?" Blair closed his eyes, a little fearful, more than a little
excited.

"Yeah. I can smell your shampoo, taste your sweat and smell
pheromones so strong I'm surprised I can keep myself contained."

Quietly now, Blair replied, "You don't have to, you know."

"I know - but I will."

Blair nodded in the darkness, knowing Jim would feel if not see the
movement. With a sigh of what could have been complete contentment,
he shifted until his whole body was pressed up against Jim's - and
felt a rock hardness pressed against the cheeks of his arse.
Instantly Jim moved away without letting go.

"God, Blair, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry?" Blair turned to try and see that strong face in the dark
bedroom. "Sorry for what?"

"I just… well, I thought we should wait for the morning and
everything but my body doesn't seem to be paying any attention and
it's just that you're so close and you feel… so good… I… maybe this
isn't such a good idea... us being in bed together like this…"

"No!" Blair reached out until his hand was against Jim's thigh
trying, vainly to pull the other man closer to him. "You don't know
how good it feels knowing I do that to you. It's okay, I don't mind.
Please, Jim, come closer."

Jim paused only a moment - then, to Blair's delight, snuggled up
again until his cock was pressed against Blair's cheeks, as though
that was where it was supposed to have been all along.

Blair relaxed a little - but only in places Jim could feel. Now the
rest of him was fighting a losing battle and it was all he could do
to stop himself moving his hips against that pressure, wonderful as
it was.

"Tell me," Jim breathed again, drawing in a lung-full of Blair's
essence, "how you feel. I can sense your responses but I can't read
your mind. If you do this to me, what do I do to you?"

"Oh god, Jim," Blair groaned, "if you only knew!" He turned for
another kiss, this one a blazing hell-fire that had Jim trembling and
Blair almost insane with desire. Afterwards, Blair pulled Jim's arms
around him until they held him tight. "I don't know if I can put it
into words, man, but you… you make me feel warm and safe and I can
smell you too, not like you can smell me, sure, but it's good and
your arms feel so strong and right and I love it when you kiss me
like that, hell I love it no matter how you kiss me and I'm sure I'm
not going to sleep a wink before morning."

"Oh, Blair," Jim whispered into his hair again, but Blair could hear
the happiness in those two words and found it answered in his own
heart. No, the morning wasn't going to make them change their minds.
The alcohol might have emboldened them both to do something they
might not have dared before, but it didn't create this desire, didn't
make it feel so good - and to be honest - couldn't possibly have
given him the almighty erection he felt pushing against the cotton of
his boxers.

Gaining courage from Jim's voice, Blair continued. "You make me feel
so damned good, Jim. You always have - except that now, I feel good,
here, too." With that, he took Jim's hand and brushed it down over
his tense stomach until it rested against his erection. Jim's hand
froze for a moment, his breath catching and for a split second, Blair
was terrified he'd read the whole thing the wrong way. Then slowly,
Jim's hand relaxed under his, fingers reaching out to touch, so
gently, so softly, the shape of his cock. Around the swollen head,
dipping into the moisture that was already leaking into his boxers,
along the hard shaft, feeling every ridge through the cloth. Blair
thought he was going to have a heart attack at the sensation of that
hand on him. Jim must have heard the hammering in his chest but he
seemed suddenly incapable of stopping his hand from moving on,
grasping the cock a little more firmly, tracing his fingers down
further until they reached the swollen balls below, letting two
fingers feel the outer shape, his whole hand to squeeze and probe.

Just as Blair took a breath to either beg him to stop - or to please
finish it, Jim spoke his own request, harsh and husky with wanting.

"Please, Blair, let me touch you."

Silently, Blair moved his hand, lifting the elastic of his boxers to
give Jim access. Now his whole body tensed up, waiting for that first
caress - and when it came, it sent a jolt through him from front to
back, a piercing dagger of desire mixed with terror and anticipation.
Jim began sucking on his earlobe again as his fingers gently dusted
over Blair's cock, lightly teasing, exploring, feeling the exact
shape of the head, the texture of the hair around his balls in the
way only a sentinel could. Blair was in real trouble now, gasping in
air as though his lungs might decide to just go off on a holiday of
their own and leave him stranded if he kept them unoccupied for long.
The sensation on his cock was incredible and he knew if Jim didn't
stop in a second, he was going to embarrass them both and come all
over Jim's hand.

"Let me," Jim whispered, his voice full of knowing. "Let me do it,
baby. Let me feel you come. Please."

"Oh, god, Jim, yes." Blair croaked, no longer capable of controlling
anything, let alone his voice.

And Jim grasped him again, pulling him firmly and Blair was certain,
as certain as he was about anything in this world, that he was going
to die right there, with Jim wrapped around him, hard cock pressing
up against him, hand stroking him, that yeah he was going to die and
he didn't care any more because if a man had to die and every man had
to die, right, well why not like this and go feeling so damned good
he was going to explode.

"Come on, baby, give it to me," Jim caressed his ears, his mind with
those words and Blair began humping into the hand with all the energy
of desire unresolved. Each thrust brought his arse back against Jim's
cock and suddenly his hand was there, too, pressing Jim's hip against
him.

"Please, Jim, move." He managed, his breathing shortening as he tried
to hold on long enough.

"No, baby…"

"Yes, please, Jim."

And that was all it took as Jim grabbed him harder and began
thrusting against his arse, his breathing grunted in Blair's ears.

The double sensation was too much for Blair. Arching his back, he
pushed hard into the hand gripping him and let it go, exploding with
a grunt wrenched from him, feeling the hot fluid shoot out and over
Jim's hand. After the first shot, Jim stiffened, moaned and Blair
felt an answering heat flooding his rear. Again and again they thrust
against each other until they were exhausted.

It took a long, long time before Blair's breathing finally returned
to normal. When it did, he turned his head to find Jim smiling so
openly at him that his heart melted in one swift go. Sighing, he
leaned in for the kiss that had been denied him earlier and felt a
passion in Jim that was only partly sated. He had to laugh. It was
the most amazing thing to think he'd never felt this good before and
only now discovered he could feel like this in the arms of another
man - and his best friend at that.

"What's so funny?" Again that sliver of self-doubt in Jim's voice.

"Nothing funny, man, just that well, we're both a little messy is
all."

"Yeah. Nice messy though."

"Very nice." Blair gave him another brief kiss then reached down and
took Jim's hand from his boxers. Knowing Jim could see exactly what
he was doing - and feeling suddenly very adventurous, he brought the
hand to his lips and licked one finger. The taste of his own semen
was almost enough to get him aroused again. What did it however, was
the look of sheer hunger that filled Jim's eyes as he watched - and
felt - what Blair was doing. A look so dazzling that Blair could see
it clearly even in the dark.

More bold now, he then rolled over until he faced Jim and reached
down inside Jim's boxers and dipped a finger in the moisture there.
Without a word, he brought it to Jim's lips and, with his eyes on
Blair, Jim brought out his tongue and tasted, suckled on Blair's
finger, more heat growing in his gaze with every moment.

Blair collected more then brought Jim's messy hand up between them,
mixing their juices together. He brought his mouth close, let his
tongue come out and Jim followed and then they were licking and
sucking their hands until their mouths met in a kiss so powerful,
Blair felt dizziness overwhelm him.

"Take your clothes off," Jim ordered - and Blair complied quickly. As
Blair laid down again Jim sat up and pulled the sheets back so he
could look at Blair naked. Slowly his hand came forward to brush a
finger over Blair's nipple ring. "You are so sexy." His fingers
teased the nipple until it was hard and Blair was breathing heavy
again. He leaned forward and rasped his tongue over the tiny mound,
making Blair moan. His lips were cool against Blair's feverish skin
as they roamed further, touching, tasting, caressing. Then Blair's
hands came out to touch Jim's chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath
the cloth.

"Jim, I want to look at you."

Jim nodded and in one swift motion, pulled the t-shirt off, tossing
it somewhere. Blair had seen Jim naked before but only now could he
pause long enough to admire the sight, the awesome power of the body
so close to him. Blair pushed Jim back down and laid beside him,
bringing his mouth to kiss the solid pecs, letting his tongue dictate
where it wanted to go, from one smooth nipple to the other, across
skin that felt like satin and velvet. Now he could feel Jim's
laboured breathing as he worked his way south. Then he came across
the damp boxers and, with glance at Jim, he pulled them down and off.

The sight that greeted him was impressive to say the least. Already
almost completely hard again, Jim's cock tried desperately to sit up
and be admired by Blair - so Blair did the only thing his limited
thinking would allow him at this time of night and with this much
alcohol in him. He shifted and took the head into his mouth - and
instantly Jim arched up off the bed as though zapped by an electric
shock. Hands sank into his hair as incomprehensible words drifted in
the air but Blair paid no attention. His mouth was hungry and he had
to have his fill. His hands closed in and tugged the now rock-hard
shaft, rolled the balls, pushed the thighs further apart and still
Jim groaned above him.

"Oh, god, Blair, yes. Please suck me."

It was all the incentive Blair needed - if he really needed any at
all. Holding his breath, he took more of the throbbing cock into his
mouth, sucking more and more. Jim was now writhing, voicing some kind
of warning but Blair paid no attention. He kept going until suddenly,
he was dragged away, pulled up to Jim's face to have his mouth kissed
hard, feverishly, as Jim positioned his knees on either side of his
shoulders.

Not waiting for permission, Jim lifted his head until he could take
Blair's erection in his own mouth, gripped Blair's arse with both
hands and now Blair suddenly understood why Jim had been so… so…

Nope. Brain stopped working altogether now. Instead he simply let it
go and made no effort to stop himself from thrusting into that moist
warmth. Jim's tongue worked on him like a demon, until he was sure he
could no longer stay upright. Feeling him sway, Jim caught him and
let him down. They clung together for a moment, kissing urgently,
letting the moment fill itself, banking their passion.

Blair shifted a little until their cocks could touch and he felt Jim
move in against him - but Blair wasn't finished. "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you?"

"Will I what?"

"You know."

"I'm a sentinel, baby, not a mind reader." Jim pressed another kiss
to his lips. "Will I what?"

"Take me?"

Jim froze. After a full minute, during which Blair noticed Jim's
erection grow slightly harder - if that was possible - Jim finally
found the power of speech. His voice was soft, ragged and not a
little scared. "You… you want me to…"

"Yeah. I do." Blair swallowed, afraid again. "Only if you do."

"Of course I want to but… are you sure? I mean, really sure? I don't
want to hurt you."

"I'm not made of glass, Jim."

"You know that's not what I mean," Jim growled, pulling Blair closer
and planting a kiss on the top of his head. "It'll hurt and well,
neither of us has done this before. Maybe we should wait."

"And maybe we shouldn't be afraid of taking what we want." Blair said
evenly. Now he knew that Jim wanted him, he had all the courage he
needed. "And I want you inside me."

"Okay," Jim whispered, his voice shaky. "Do you know how to do it?"

"Well, I have read a little and you just need to stretch me so I can
take you inside. And we need lubricant."

"Can do that," Jim replied with a nervous laugh. He rolled away long
enough to open the bedside drawer and come back with a tube of
something. "I use it sometimes, on myself… you know… when…"

Blair smiled, "It's okay, Jim, you don't need to explain. Now, we
just need to decide what position."

Jim looked at him crookedly, "I only know one which men use. Maybe
we'd best to stick to something simple this time."

"Okay." Blair was having trouble keeping his own voice steady,
knowing what they were about to do. A whole forest of butterflies
seemed to have taken up residence in his stomach and he wasn't
entirely sure they were ever going to leave. Steeling himself, he
pressed his lips against Jim's once more, then moved until he was on
his hands and knees. He felt more than saw Jim move behind him - and
heard the sudden intake of breath.

"God, Blair, I…"

"What?" Suddenly afraid again that Jim had changed his mind, that he
might find this too horrible to think of…

"I don't think I've ever seen anything more erotic." Jim's words
stilled the last of his fear and Blair let himself smile as Jim
placed a hand on the small of his back, gently stroking, soothing
Blair.

Blair closed his eyes now, knowing he needed to kill the tension that
was riding in his stomach, tickled there by those damned butterflies.
He didn't know much, but he did know he had to be relaxed. Jim
touched kisses to his back, drew down further and nipped one cheek
between his teeth. Then suddenly Blair felt a finger pressed against
his hole, cool and slick with jelly. The pressure increased as Jim's
finger entered him, gently probing and Blair took it and wanted it -
and more.

"Another." He murmured, keeping his shaking body still on the bed as
Jim worked two fingers into him, stretching him. As he did so, he
snaked a hand around Blair and began caressing his cock - and
abruptly, Blair found himself involuntarily humping back against the
fingers and forward into that hand.

"Easy, baby," Jim's voice almost sang to him. "Take it easy. Slowly
now."

With a great force of will, Blair convinced his body to still. When
he had done so, Jim withdrew his fingers, paused, then pushed them in
again, more size and bulk and for a moment, Blair was worried the
pressure was too great, that he'd never be able to take Jim's cock in
there, no matter how badly he might need it - but then Jim's fingers
brushed over something and he almost leapt off the bed. Again, his
arse involuntarily humped back, wanting more, wanting that brush
again. This time however, he didn't wait for Jim's words to slow him
down - he knew himself, that if he didn't cool it a little, he was
going to come before Jim could so much as touch him.

"Ready?" Jim murmured, his voice betraying his own desire.

"Uh, huh." Monosyllables. That's all Blair had left. So much for
education.

Fear and excitement twisted inside him again as he felt Jim's fingers
withdraw and the man himself get into position. Then… then… oh, god,
the head was inside him, pushing him forward, filling him - and he
groaned. Pain assaulted him for a moment - until he heard Jim's
voice, warm and gentle.

"Easy, baby, easy. Just breathe. Stay with me. It will get better.
Just relax." Jim's hand found his cock again and keeping the strokes
firm and constant, Blair found the pain diminish and fade away until
he nodded.

"More." Again and again, they repeated this until Jim was finally
buried inside him and Blair once more thought his lungs were packing
their bags to go to Tahiti.

"Breathe, baby," Jim said, holding him hard.

"Only if you promise to move."

And Jim did. Slowly, gently, lovingly. Each thrust brushed against
that something, sending shivers right through to Blair's balls. He
lifted his head, wishing he could kiss Jim right now, do something,
anything that could communicate how incredible this was to the man
behind him. But all he had was words - and precious few available to
him as it was.

"More, Jim, harder. Please, Jim, fuck me."

And Jim moved harder and faster, slamming into him, smothering his
back with kisses, pulling his cock in rhythm to his lunges and Blair
felt his stomach clench, his knees and elbows grow weak, his mind
grow blank, his awareness shrink until his whole world was
encompassed within the pressure inside his arse, the touch against
his cock. Everything swirled and rattled inside him, rolling around
into one enormous burst of blinding light.

Blair sucked in a huge breath, let out a yell and with Jim's name on
his lips, felt his climax rip out of him with such violence he knew
his body would be shrivelled up afterwards. Within a second, Jim
lurched into him once more, slamming his cock deep into the channel
and flooded Blair with his semen. Before he'd even finished, Blair
was collapsing down onto the bed, whispering apologies to the man as
he thrust one last time.

It felt like an eternity before Blair could move again. Time during
which he joyfully catalogued all the weird and yet wholly welcome
sensations in his exhausted body. From the slowly shrinking cock in
his arse, to the pounding in his temples, the sweat on his back
intermingled with the wonderful man draped over him, the smell of
their sex heavy in the air, the harsh breathing of Jim in his ear,
right down to the soft ticking of the clock by the bed.

But it couldn't last - at least, not if he wanted to go on breathing.
"Hey, Jim?"

"Hey, yourself."

"Sorry, man. Too heavy."

Without withdrawing, Jim wrapped his arms around Blair and rolled
them both until Blair was lying on top of Jim, arms pressed against
his chest. "You are very strange, Sandburg."

"Me? Now you've fucked me it's back to Sandburg, is it?"

"Sure - when you're apologising to me because I'm too heavy."

Blair just grinned and let his head rest back against Jim's shoulder.
He felt soft kisses brush against the side of his face and the grin
became a wide open smile.

"You sore?" Jim asked, quietly.

"A little - but it's a nice kind of sore. What about you?"

"Me? I'm not too sure about this, Chief, but I don’t think I've ever
felt better."

Blair would have said something but at that moment, he felt Jim slip
from him and he sighed a little at the separation. He carefully
rolled over until he was facing Jim, felt the arms hold him tight
again and took the kiss he'd wanted so much before. Jim's hand came
up to cradle his head and he felt his heart burst with the amazing
beauty of the moment.

Then Jim was looking at him, holding his face between strong hands, a
small, shy smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "I guess this was
as close to morning as we were going to get."

"Yeah, well," Blair nodded, "in my book, anything after midnight is
morning anyway."

"I guess it is. You feel like sleeping now?"

"I think so. At least," Blair paused with a giggle, "until something
better comes up."

With a gust of helpless laughter, Jim rolled him over until they were
side to side, wrapped up in each other. He took in another deep
lungful of Blair-scent and settled. "Goodnight, Chief."

"You know, I love it when you call me that after sex."

His reply was a tiny nip at his shoulder. "Say goodnight, Blair."

"Goodnight Blair."

As he relaxed in Jim's arms, it occurred to Blair that he wanted to
say something else but for the life of him, he couldn't work out what
it was. Exhaustion, alcohol and mindblowing sex had turned his
otherwise intensely agile mind to mashed potato. Didn't matter
anyway. In the morning he'd work it out and say it then. Right now,
he had all he wanted.

*

It wasn't so much the unusual smells that woke Jim - it was their
sudden and unexpected absence. For long minutes, he couldn't work out
why that would be unsettling enough to wake him - but then he
remembered what had happened last night and the shock of it all
opened his eyes so quickly, the daylight almost blinded him.

Yeah, he was in his bed, in his loft and it was something close to
midday. Okay, that much was fine. And there, on the floor, on the
chair were his clothes - and yes, Blair's jeans so no, he hadn't been
having a weird dream or anything. And there was that strong and
unmistakable scent of heavy musk in the air - sex. Recent and
energetic. Fine, so much for reality. Next question: where was the
object of his dreams?

He concentrated hard and listened carefully, extending his hearing
down the stairs, across the loft - ah, and into the bathroom. The
shower just turned off and he heard… whistling. He listened
carefully, with a smile on his face, for some minutes more - and then
the bathroom door opened and the man himself came out, the whistling
now silent. Jim heard a few kitchen noises then footsteps on the
floor. They paused at the bottom of the stairs and Jim knew the
hesitation in that movement.

"Hey, Chief?" He didn't move from the bed as he heard footsteps
coming up behind him. Then Blair was with him, a glass of orange
juice held a little shakily in his hand, a look of hidden fear in
those amazing blue eyes.

"Morning, Jim."

Jim wanted to smile and make it alright - but he wasn't sure what was
behind that fear yet, so he just said, "That for me?"

"Uh, yeah. Just put coffee on so it will be a few minutes more." He
handed the glass over and Jim sat up, noting the sweater and loose
trousers Blair wore, a sky blue, near the colour of his eyes. He
looked so wonderful first thing in the morning. So wonderful, Jim
found himself slightly disbelieving that what he knew had happened
last night, had acutally happened.

He and Blair had… and it had been fantastic and… god, was this real?
But yes, it was because there was Blair standing before him, a little
afraid, perhaps even a little happy - it was impossible to guess.

Jim sipped the juice, thinking of some way to say something to work
out what the hell was going on behind those eyes. He opted for safety
first. "You weren't here when I woke up."

"I… er," Blair brushed the hair back from his face, finding it
difficult to meet Jim's gaze. "Needed a shower, you know? I was, uh,
thirsty and needed a pee and, er, I thought you might…"

"You think I regret last night?"

This brought Blair's gaze back to him instantly, direct, harsh and
displaying all the fear in one huge rush. "Do you?"

Jim just shook his head, "No. You?"

His answer was the most blinding smile he'd ever seen. "No way, man,
I mean…"

"Then come here," Jim put his glass down and held out an arm. "Unless
you can't bear to kiss a man who hasn't cleaned his teeth yet."

"I'll cope." Blair launched into him, pushing him back down until
they were a messy tangle of limbs and kisses. Then suddenly they were
both laughing and delighting in it and all Jim could smell was the
clean damp presence of his guide in his bed and he felt so complete
it amazed him he could have all this on what was otherwise an
ordinary Saturday morning.

Eventually they calmed and Jim settled for a moment, his head on
Blair's shoulder, his fingers trailing in the soft curls beneath
Blair's shirt.

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

"We need to talk about this."

"We do?" Jim nuzzled closer, letting his tongue dip in and taste the
delicious neck so near and so tempting. "Why?"

"Well, because… because this is all so sudden."

"If you say so."

"You mean it isn't? For you?"

"I mean," Jim replied patiently, letting his fingers drift higher to
touch one unadorned nipple. "We don't have to make it any more
complicated than it is."

"You're still not making yourself clear."

"Sorry, you kind of distract me, you know?"

A gentle chuckle was his reward, "Yeah, as it happens, I know exactly
what you mean. But please, Jim, I need to know. I need some answers
or it's really going to start bugging me."

Jim sighed and stopped his hands from moving. "Should have woken up
before you got in the shower. Now you've had twenty minutes more
thinking time than me and yet you expect me to give you answers."

"God, Jim, don’t do that!" Blair shifted impatiently and Jim sat up,
facing him.

"Don't do what?"

Blair waved his hands around, displaying his discomfort. "You, man.
You sit there looking so damned gorgeous and hell, I want a repeat of
last night just to make myself believe it really happened but I need
to know what's going on here. This is so way off my scale for things
unexpected. Man, I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone. What did you
mean about it not being sudden?"

Jim was momentarily tempted to pull Blair back down and show him what
he meant - but he heard the edge of desperation in Blair's voice and
decided to let discretion be the better part of whatever it was that
was that was glowing inside him. He nodded, pulled a pillow across
his lap and took Blair's hand in his. "I meant that it felt sudden
last night but after the first surprise, it didn't."

"Like?"

Frowning a little, Jim let his gaze rest on their joined hands. "Like
maybe I'd been thinking of you that way for a while and just never
realised it." Simply holding Blair's hand gave him a kind of calm
he'd never noticed before even though he knew there was a frame of
fear sitting around it. Yes, Blair was right, this was strange and
weird and unexpected - but wasn't it possible that it was also right?
It certainly felt that way, last night and now.

It was overwhelming feeling this strongly about anything at all. He
wasn't accustomed to having to pare his emotions, to tie them up into
neat bundles he could express when he had to. He was too used to
following his instincts and, odd as it may be that his instincts had
led him to sleep with his best friend, he couldn't for the life of
him, find any cause for rejection. If it wasn't broken, don’t fix it.

He lifted his gaze to meet Blair's and found a frown waiting for him.
Carefully, and not a little afraid, he murmured, "What about you?"

"Me?" Blair's eyebrows shot up. "Hell, I'm just so buried in
confusion here, man. I mean, hey, we're both guys, you know? And
doesn't that bother you at all?"

"Well," Jim paused to do a quick internal strip search - but was
unsurprised to finding nothing. "You'd think so. But, no, it doesn't
seem to bother me at all. However, it does appear to worry you quite
a bit."

"Worry? Worry? Hell, why should it worry me, Jim?" Blair's hands left
Jim's and flew about the air, an adjunct to his agitation. "No way,
man, sure it bothers me. I mean, I've been straight all my life. So
have you - and then one drunken night, we get into bed together and
have the best sex I've ever had."

"Me too." Jim added quietly, but Blair pressed on.

"But it's just so wrong, you know? I mean, why now? Why with each
other? Why didn't I notice something before last night? I don't know
about you but I can't just look at last night as being a momentary
aberration. I can't believe we just did that and I didn't notice it
building before. Hell, I'm a scientist - I'm supposed to be observant
- and I didn't notice and hell, Jim, yes that bothers me. I'm sorry
but it does."

Carefully, Jim reached for one of those hands again, keeping his
voice calm and sure, "I'm a cop, Blair, trained to observe and no, I
didn't notice before last night either - but as a cop, I'm also aware
that there a plenty of things in life that seem to happen without a
reason."

"I can't buy that, man."

"Can't," Jim paused, "or won't?"

"I…" Blair stopped and pulled in his bottom lip, in itself, a gesture
almost perfectly designed to distract Jim from his thoughts.

"What are you afraid of, Chief?"

"Take your pick. Global warming, nuclear waste, nerve gas, genetic
manipulation and the Jags dropping the season." Blair's voice dropped
a little as he looked away. "Mostly I'm afraid… of this being the
biggest mistake of my life."

"No, I'm sure you'll make plenty bigger."

Blair pulled away from his grasp again, "I might have known you
wouldn't take me seriously. That's why I got up before you did. I
knew you'd do this." He climbed off the bed and looked every inch a
man readying himself to walk away - permanently.

"Blair, wait. I'm sorry, I do take this seriously. I take you very
seriously. Please, sit down."

The other man paused, obviously warring within himself and Jim added,
"Don't make your walking out now the biggest mistake of your life."

With a huge sigh, Blair sank onto the bed - but well enough away from
Jim so that casual contact was impossible. Jim idly took Blair's
vitals and realised he needed to be careful here. "I don't know why
you think I have any more answers than you."

"Well," Blair replied softly, not looking up, "you were the one being
adult about it last night, suggesting we wait until this morning
before we did anything we might regret."

"Yeah, and I was so adult, I reneged on it the moment I got my arms
around you." Blair immediately began to protest this but Jim held up
his hands, "I'm not pointing fingers of blame, Chief, merely stating
facts. Now, we've established neither of us regrets what happened,
agreed?"

"I guess so."

"Don't guess, Chief, this is important. Do you regret it?"

"Not exactly."

"Be exact."

Blair paused a moment, gathering himself, "No, I don't regret it. It
was… wonderful. But I don't want to regret it later and I'm afraid I
will."

"Why do you think you might?"

"Because, man, you're my best friend and I… don't want to risk losing
you."

"And you think us sleeping together is going to risk that?"

"You thought so last night."

"And you didn't. What's changed?"

"I sobered up."

"Really?"

Blair glanced up, gave a sheepish shrug. "I'm sorry Jim, I guess I'm
just a little spooked. I suppose I kinda figured you'd be the one
worrying about it this morning and I think I'm sort of surprised
you're not. Maybe my subconscious thinks somebody should worry and
nominated me."

"Your worries are important to me, Chief. Important to us." Jim
scooted a little closer but deliberately didn't reach out and touch
the other man. "Look, I know you're a scientist and your amazingly
analytical mind is dizzy trying to make sense of this but perhaps you
just need to relax and accept that there might not be an explanation
for it. Maybe it just happened. Maybe it's been happening since the
day we met - or from about eight thirty last night. I doubt we'll
ever know. But this is what I meant by making it more complicated
than it is. The truth is, we both enjoyed last night and I think that
even if it does turn out to be a mistake, our friendship is strong
enough to cope. It's not like we went in with our eyes shut. Even
though we were both pretty drunk last night, didn't stop either of us
considering the ramifications. Do you think if we'd waited until this
morning we wouldn't even now be busy doing something other than
talking?"

Blair shrugged then shook his head, "No. I knew I wouldn't feel any
different when I woke up. I knew I'd still want you in the morning.
Maybe I was afraid you might change your mind."

"I haven't changed my mind. Not at all. But last night we made the
choice and… I think it was the right one. I need to know you think
that too."

Blair nodded, his head hung low, "I do. At least, I do at the moment.
Like I said, I'm just afraid of what will happen later."

Jim held his breath a moment, letting his instincts guide him. "You
wonder if we have any future together? As a couple?"

His only answer was a dejected nod.

"Well, I'm not going to give you an easy lie and say, sure Chief, we
have a bright and happy future together - 'cause we'd both know it
would be a lie and I don't want to start out a relationship with you
based on that kind of crap. All I know is, I want to try. You mean
too much to me, Blair. Way too much to do anything less. Is that
enough for now? Can't we give ourselves time to work out the whys
later? When the surprise and shock has worn off a little?"

For a moment, Blair said nothing. Then nodded slowly. "I'd like that.
I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to…"

Now Jim did move, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, breathing
in the scent which had come to be so important a part of his life.
"Forget it, Chief. You're just being you and I promise you, I don't
mind it one little bit."

"I guess it would be a little late to complain - considering what we
did last night." Blair spoke into Jim's shoulder. Abruptly he gave a
little embarrassed laugh and shook his head.

"What?"

"Well, I know this is going to sound odd - but hey, what isn't at the
moment."

"Out with it, Chief."

"Well, I was just thinking, I can't believe we… did that, you know?
That I wanted it so much."

"Me inside you?"

"Yeah and that I… er enjoyed it, you know? I never thought it could
be enjoyable -  not like that!"

"You don't know how glad I am to hear that, Chief. And you feel okay
this morning? No pain or anything?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Jim turned until he caught Blair's gaze with his own. "Just tell me:
do you think we should try - or do we put this one night down to
experience and move on?"

"Do you think that's still possible - after last night?"

Jim shrugged, "If we really tried, yes, sure, why not?"

Blair risked a little laugh, "Well, for one, it goes way past me
breaking one of your house rules."

"Don't sleep with your partner? Rule number 734, as I recall."

Laughing, Blair reached up and brushed his fingers over Jim's face.
He nodded, "Yes, Jim, I want to give it a try. I think maybe we might
belong together."

Wanting to shout with relief, Jim contained himself with a grin he
knew went from ear to ear. "I suppose your next suggestion is that
it's what Sentinels and Guides are supposed to do."

"Well, it might be for all we know."

Jim planted a firm kiss on those desirable lips and reluctantly let
Blair go. "Well, you think about it while I'm in the shower. I'm sure
you'll have another chapter for your dissertation all plotted out by
the time I'm out."

He was only just quick enough to avoid the swat Blair gave his arse
as he moved away. However, he wasn't anywhere near quick enough to
miss the shoe which flew down the stairs after him.

*

Blair sat at the desk, idly counting paperclips, waiting for Jim to
return. Despite the fact that they were supposed to have today off -
Simon had called Jim in for what he'd promised was only to be a
couple of hours. Both Blair and Jim had hated the call. It was way
too early for them to have to face the world. God, they'd not even
been together a full twenty-four hours - and yet now, Blair was
having to sit in the bull-pen, wiling away time, waiting for Jim to
come back so they could go and do some shopping. Blair had offered to
 cook a special dinner for just the two of them. He felt they needed
some quality time alone and Jim had leapt at the idea.

He came to the end of his paper clips, messed them up and began
aligning them in neat little patterns. It wasn't until he heard the
lift doors opening that he realised that he'd written Jim's name five
times over. Before he looked up, he quickly ran his hands over the
paperclips and obscured whatever it was his subconscious was trying
to tell him.

But then he did look up - into a pair of ice-blue eyes, focussed on
him alone, a light in them that warmed Blair's heart to the core and
parts of him inside did a neat little flutter and it was all he could
do to not leap up into the man's arms, right there, in front of
everyone.

"Hey, Chief," Jim began, shrugging off his coat - and not for the
first time, Blair wondered how somebody so big could move so
gracefully. There had always been something about Jim's size that
Blair liked. Something solid and dependable about it. Perhaps even
attractive.

But hell, everything about Jim was attractive. "Hey, Jim. How'd it
go?"

As though performing a mentally rehersed series of actions, Jim waved
a signal towards Simon's office, grunted a greeting to the others in
the bull-pen then swung into his chair, almost on one fluid movement.
Blair drank it all in.

Jim turned his gaze on Blair, pinning and stapling, tucking and
folding. "Fine, Chief. Be ready to go in about ten minutes. That
okay?"

Okay? Ten minutes and this incredible man would be his for the rest
of the weekend? Bargain! Feeling sleeping bits across his body awaken
suddenly at the prospect, Blair nodded, keeping his face carefully
schooled of too much enthusiasm. "Sure, that's great."

A small tick on the side of Jim's mouth was all Blair saw of the
struggle Jim was going through. Another flood of warmth washed
through him at the thought that Jim was finding it difficult being
this close to him without being able to acknowledge what had happened
between them last night. With a brief nod, Jim turned to his computer
and set about opening up some files. Blair sat in silence and watched
for a moment. Then, feeling a little mischevious, he purred a
whisper, too low for anyone else in the room to hear - but clearly
audible to a sentinel.

"I think we do need a replay of last night, Jim, just to make sure we
meant it."

With some degree of satisfaction, he saw Jim's gaze freeze,
reflecting the light from his screen. In perfect profile, Jim's jaw
clenched - then deliberately relaxed. Thus encouraged, Blair
continued softly. "I mean, the whole thing, without the alochol. I
want to make sure this time that I feel everything that you do to me.
Everything that we do to each other. Everything that I do to you." He
paused, letting his whisper go breathy and seductive, "Every inch of
you inside me."

This time the jaw clenched suddenly, as if snapped so by an elastic
band. Jim turned his head but didn't actually meet Blair's eyes. He
drew in a steadying breath, then, as though he'd switched on a light,
he turned completely, his gaze totally changed. Suddenly he was
smiling comfortably, easily, the way he always did. "Chief, I wonder
if you would help me out with something?"

Slightly wary, a little afraid - and somewhat disappointed, Blair
shrugged. "Sure. What?"

"I'll explain on the way downstairs." Jim got up and waved him along.
They headed out into the corridor and down, into an area Blair rarely
passed through. Jim paused before a door, opened it and ushered Blair
inside. Blair was looking at Jim so didn't notice at first that the
room was dark.

He did notice it however, when Jim's large hand landed on the middle
of his back, pushing him into darkness. Jim shut the door behind them
and in one swift movement, pushed Blair up against the opposite wall
of the cupboard and turned him around. Suddenly his hands and lips
were all over Blair and within seconds, Blair was left gasping,
desperately trying to drink in the taste of his sentinel as a dying
man drinks water in a desert.

Jim's whole body blanketed his, his kisses hard fire, his breathing a
freight train, his hands pushed and pinched, grabbed and took and
Blair almost died from the unbridled passion unleashed to him. Then
Jim was whispering, his hands moving frantically downwards, feeling
Blair's hardness, his readiness. "God, Chief, you are going to kill
me. Just looking at you… I want you. Now!"

And Blair felt his fly undone, his cock freed into Jim's eager hands.
Blair tried to reach for Jim's but the bigger man got there before
him, bringing both their hard shafts close together, another deep
kiss, ending further comment.

Hard and fast now, Jim pulled them both, his teeth sinking into the
one exposed area of Blair's shoulder. Riding a tidal wave, Blair
could do nothing but hold on as Jim stroked them both towards
madness. Dizzy from too much oxygen, Blair gripped Jim's sweater for
all he was worth, his blood pounding, his hips thrusting hard against
what Jim was doing to them both. And then Jim was coming all over his
hands and Blair was whimpering and following close behind, falling
slowly, a mass of jelly, into Jim's waiting arms.

What seemed like hours drifted by as they both struggled to regain
normal breathing patterns. Then carefully, Jim set Blair back against
the wall, making sure he wouldn't drop. Then he turned away and Blair
heard sounds of running water, a basin in the cupboard. Hands being
washed and dried. Then Jim was back with him, his arms tight again,
his kiss deep and more blinding than the darkness. Good thing at
least one of them could see.

"The one and only time, Blair," Jim whispered close to his ear.
"Never again will we do this here. Understand?"

"Never really… expected this."

A soft chuckle reached him, "You know how many chemicals and cleaners
are in this cupboard? And yet, the only thing I can smell is you." A
deep intake of air as Jim drew in his scent and instantly, Blair felt
a tingle run up his spine. God, why did Jim sniffing him like that
turn him on so bad?

Jim didn't need to be a sentinel to feel Blair's reaction. That
happened all by itself. Again Jim chuckled softly. "Do you have any
idea the penalties I would be given for doing what I'm about to do?
Assuming we get caught?"

Hearing the breath of excitement in Jim's whisper, Blair grunted,
"No? But, what are you going to…"

But Jim wasn't with him any more. Jim was abruptly on his knees
before Blair, his hands around the growing errection, his tongue
going out to lap up the remnants of his last climax. In response,
Blair plastered himself against the wall, palms flat, and was almost
ready for the moment when Jim took his cock into his mouth.

Blair almost bit his tongue to stifle the moan desperately trying to
escape him. Frantically, he bit down on his wrist, hoping the cloth
of his three shirts would silence the noise. But after that, he
couldn't have cared less. Jim made love to him with all the
enthusiasm and energy he'd displayed the night before - only this
time, it was all concentrated on Blair's cock.

Using his hands and mouth, Jim brought him up to full hardness and
began milking him, rough and catching every fantasy Blair had ever
had all in one go. He would have given anything to have been able to
turn on the light and watch as Jim sucked him - but he was too afraid
to move, too afraid somebody would notice the light from under the
door, open it and see what they were doing. And yet, the danger that
that might happen only sharpened his arousal. Soon he was panting and
biting his wrist until he was sure he had bruises. Then Jim sucked
deep, taking him right down his throat and Blair gave up, letting go
and coming in waves. Again and again he thrust and Jim drank it all
until Blair was utterly spent. Only then did he finally release the
cock, gently and carefully caressing it before tucking it back inside
the clothing.

A limp rag, Blair couldn't move from the wall. Instead, he reached
out with one weak hand and pulled Jim to him, taking a kiss, making
it his own, tasting himself in Jim's mouth, their flavours mixed and
intertwined just as the rest of them were.

"God, Jim!" Blair breathed. "That was…"

"Yeah, wasn't it." Jim kissed his forehead, tenderly. "But I got to
get back to work so we can get out of here."

"But what about you?" Blair reached for Jim.

"I can wait," Blair could hear the smile in Jim's voice. "It was
worth it to see the look on your face when you came."

"You could see that?"

"Uh huh." Another kiss and Jim tidied their clothes up, straightened
Blair's hair and stepped back, giving them both time to compose
themselves.

But Blair wasn't so easily persuaded, "But Jim, I would really like
to…"

"I know, Chief," Jim's soft voice was warm, a light in the darkness.
"But the longer we're in here, the greater the risk. It's clear out
there at the moment so now's our chance to leave unseen. I'll wait
till we get home. Then I promise you, I'll be more than ready to do
as you suggested."

"Er… what did I suggest?"

"A replay of last night?"

"Oh." Blair snapped his mouth shut, his mind already working on too
many things at the same time. "Any part in particular?"

"Yep," Jim turned and opened the door, and Blair followed him out
into the corridor.

"Which part?"

As they walked along, back to the bull-pen, Jim gave him an easy
casual smile, his voice so low, Blair could hardly hear it. "Oh, I
thought perhaps back from the point where you said that thing about
lubrication. From then on."

"Oh." Again, words failed Blair as images piled into his head - all
of them wonderfully enticing - despite his recent activity.

"But I should warn you," Jim added, taking up his seat again.

"What?"

"I've thought of an alternative position."

That shut Blair right up. Instead, he was forced to spend the next
ten minutes in complete silence just so Jim could finish up his work.
Finally they got out of the station and headed directly to the
market. Blair got through the shopping in record time, sure he was
forgetting a dozen things. The whole time he knew Jim was watching
him with thinly veiled amusement and carefully controlled
anticipation. Blair found himself blushing every five minutes.

When they got back to the loft, Jim kept his promise. And Blair liked
the new position. Very much. He found there was an awful lot to be
said for lying flat on your back while an insanely georgous sentinel
lay between your legs, taking you and making you his. To be able to
kiss and touch, to watch his face as he prepared and entered you, to
feel the movement of him, as he thrust and came inside you. Yeah, a
lot to be said indeed.

Except that the act itself, in the end, left Blair completely and
utterly speachless.

_______________________________

Present day
Tuesday
 

Blair started when he heard the rustle of paper. He turned and
glanced at his office door to find an essay being slipped through the
gap at the bottom. It took him a moment before he caught his
bearings, got his head out of the past and climbed out of his chair
to pick the essay up. He barely looked at the name before dropping it
on his desk.

And that was how it had begun.

In fear and expectation and excitement and wonder. That first day,
that first night together so much like the weeks that followed. So
easy to slip into, so needed, so wanted. They kept the façade up at
work, giving nothing away out of sheer discipline - but outside of
work hours, they'd been unable to get enough of each other. Little
phone calls during the day, to hear a familiar voice, hours spent on
the couch, lying together, watching TV or reading. More nights spent
in bed together, the sex, the close and intimate moments afterwards.
It was, all of it, utterly wonderful. For those first few weeks, up
until the card night, Blair had asked himself every day what he'd
done to deserve such happiness.

Yeah, he'd been happy - and so, it appeared on the surface, had Jim.
At least, until that one card night, Blair had never had any reason
to think Jim wasn't happy. They fit together so well as a couple.
Their days didn't really change that much - except that perhaps they
had lunch together more often and maybe Jim was a little more
protective than he'd been before - but everything had been good.
Absolutely everything.

And the nights?

That first night, Blair had been blown away by how good it was. But,
as he had often discovered in the course of a relationship, the first
coupling never ended up being the best. Sex with Jim had developed
into an amazing adventure which had the power to overwhelm him at a
moment's notice. As the days went by, he found himself drifting for
hours at a time, simply recalling the way Jim had touched him the
night before, how Jim had reacted to something Blair had done, of the
look on his face when pleasure aroused him, how soft and gentle - or
hard and demanding his kisses could be. Of course, he managed to keep
his mind on the job when they were out on a case - and oddly, this
surprised him, until he realised that this was the time Jim needed
him the most to keep both of them safe - and he stopped worrying
about it.

But there were moments, in the bull pen, when he saw Jim laugh in a
particular way, or when the corner of Jim's mouth lifted in response
to something he saw in Blair - and Blair would be off in the daisies,
only nudged back gently when Jim noticed.

How anyone could not notice how happy they were had been a constant
surprise to Blair. He'd always felt like he was walking around with
this huge sign painted across his back with the words, Jim and I are
together and man, so together and it is so wonderful I think I'm
going to die from it.

But nobody had said a thing and had nobody looked at them any
differently and a small part of Blair couldn't help being
disappointed. Which was, in a way, why the card night had been such a
problem. By that point, Blair had virtually moved into Jim's bedroom
and only used his own to study in. And then it had been Jim's turn to
host the poker night and that afternoon Blair had gone home early to
put some food together and clean up and make everything normal and
acceptable to Jim's friends and suddenly, half-way through it all he
began to wonder why was doing it at all.

Were they going to keep the secret forever? Was Jim, in some quiet
way, ashamed to admit he and Blair were sleeping together? Had been
for almost a month?

So, he had waited until Jim got home - and asked him.

_______________________________

Three months before
 

"You want to what?"

Blair paused, letting his hands rest on the bowl in front of him,
feeling weirdly protected by the kitchen bench sitting between him
and Jim. "Well, I just thought this might be a good opportunity to,
you know, tell them."

Jim's gaze struck right through him. "You want to announce to my
friends, men I have to work with tomorrow, that we're sleeping
together? Just like that?"

"Well, hey, Jim, it's been a month now. I don’t know about you, but I
get the feeling we're not going to stop any time soon. Look, if you
don't want to, then that's okay. I'm mean, I'm not pressuring you to
come out or anything. I just thought that you might want to think
about it."

Jim walked towards him slowly, his gaze dark, "No you didn't. You've
decided already and you want to just do it, don't you? It's so easy
for you to be so open you never seem to take into consideration that
it might not be easy for me. Hell, you know what they do to cops even
suspected of being gay. Do you think I want anything like that? Have
you any idea what it would do to my career?"

Blair opened his mouth - then shut it abruptly, being too afraid of
the words that were dying to be ripped out of him. Rage and
disappointment flowing through him like a river that had broken its
banks, he turned for the fridge, ostensibly to get tomatoes for the
salsa he was making - but then Jim was at his side, reaching for him,
holding him tight.

"God, I'm sorry, sweetheart, I didn't mean it like that. Really I
didn't. You just caught me off guard."

Blair held onto his stiffness, still not trusting himself to speak so
Jim went on. "I just haven't really thought about it yet. These last
few weeks have been so wonderful I guess I've just been thinking it's
always going to be you and me. And that's what I want, really. Just
you and me. Please, don't be angry."

With that, Jim held his face in his hands and planted a gentle kiss
on Blair's lips and not being able to help himself, Blair melted into
him, wanting and needing reassurance at the same time. "But you will
think about it, won't you? I don't want to have to move all my stuff
downstairs every time somebody is coming over. Will you think about
it?"

He pulled back to watch Jim's face but he could read nothing from it
and suddenly he was very sorry he had brought the subject up because
it was the first time they'd had any kind of rift between them and he
wanted the heaven to go on just as it was. Hell, what did it matter
if the guys didn't know? What mattered was that they knew, he and
Jim, and that was the only thing that was important.

"Blair," Jim began carefully, "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell
them."

Blair tore away instantly. "You're ashamed of me! Of us!"

"No! God, no!" Jim went to him again, overwhelming him with his
greater size. "Never ashamed of you. God any man or woman would be
proud to have you! Proud to announce it to the world."

"Yeah, sure," Blair spat, "as long as he's not a macho straight cop
like one Jim Ellison. Yeah, I get the picture. Fine. Don't worry
about it, man. It doesn't matter."

"Blair, stop it!" Jim did catch him this time, holding his hands
firmly so Blair couldn't back away. "Now listen to me. It's not as
simple as me just telling the guys. If it was, I'd have done it the
day we got together. But it doesn't work like that and you know it.
Hell, you've been around cops long enough to know that they're
probably more homophobic than the KKK. Do you have any idea what
would happen if word got out? I'd be a real living target, with a
huge bullseye painted right across my chest. What's worse is, so
would you. They'd blame you for corrupting me and I couldn't take
that. I'd try but I just couldn't be around you day after day,
knowing what might happen if I dropped my guard for a minute."

"And your career would go straight down the toilet."

"Christ, Blair!" Jim yelled, his eyes blazing. "I don't give a fuck
about my damned career! I just won't put you in that kind of danger!
God, it's bad enough as it is with the trouble I get you into. Do you
have any idea how simple it would be for you to collect a stray
bullet from our own side?"

A little subdued by the passion of Jim's argument, Blair grunted, "It
wouldn't be that bad, would it?"

"Happened two weeks ago, in Seattle. The guy pulling the trigger was
a uniformed cop in the same precinct. Shot a guy he'd found out was
dating a male detective. Admitted to it afterwards, saying it was his
duty as a law-abiding officer to rid the world of such filth."

Blair flinched at the word and let himself be pulled into a tight
embrace.

"I'm sorry, Blair. I don't want you getting hurt - but I'd rather
your feelings were hurt a little than risk losing you like that. I
just can't do that to you. Please try and understand."

Blair nodded slowly, bringing his arms around the strong back of his
lover. "Yeah, okay, Jim, I understand. But it does hurt, you know?
Especially when I know at least one topic of conversation tonight
will be the sad and sorry state of your love life and how one or more
of the guys will know some great girl you should meet."

"In that case, I'll just tell them that I'm already seeing somebody
and don't need any help thank you."

Blair smiled at that and lifted his head, "Sure, right, and that
would instantly stop them asking questions about what she looks like
and does she come across."

"Well, I could tell them," Jim mused, dusting kisses across Blair's
forehead, "that this special person is irritating and brilliant,
never stops talking unless we're making love and that I'm not sure
I've ever been happier with anyone in my entire life."

Laughing now - and deeply touched, Blair asked, "Is that all?"

"Well, I could mention how I can't wait to get this person into bed
each night and often spend the whole day thinking about very little
else. How a single touch can get me so worked up I think I'll
explode, how a look from a pair of blue eyes can snatch away any
attempt at reasonable thought for an hour at a time."

"Hey, man, that is so not fair," Blair squirmed, feeling an answering
hardness to his own. "I go two hours at a time even when I work at
it."

"You develop a little more self-control as you get older, Chief," Jim
chuckled. "Not much, but a little. Stops me embarrassing myself in
the middle of the working day."

And then Jim kissed him and he forgot all about self-control and
everything else until the doorbell rang.

_______________________________
 

Present day
Tuesday
 

But that hadn't been the end of it. If only it had.

Blair pulled his backpack from the floor and began loading it up to
take home. He obviously wasn’t going to get any more work done here
today so the least he could do was return to his apartment and close
his eyes for a while. He wanted to be well rested before going out on
this date with Jim tonight.

Still surprised him, the idea of actually going out on a date with
the man. Especially after everything that had happened. Talk about
the Twilight Zone.

He locked his office and headed off down the corridor, his thoughts
drifting back to that week, the one after the card night. The week
when, for the first time, he'd begun to wonder if all his earlier
concerns might not indeed have some serious foundation in reality.

It had caught up with them again one night when Simon dropped Jim at
home because Jim's truck was in the shop. They'd come up for a beer
and Blair had been working at the kitchen table. Simon had been all
friendliness for the first half hour as he and Jim had chatted. Blair
had half-listened, trying to keep his attention on the next chapter
of his dissertation that had to be in with review edits complete in
two day's time. As a result, he hadn't really noticed when Jim had
launched into the story about this new woman he was seeing. It was
only when he heard the word 'irritating' that he found himself
smiling and looking up to gauge Simon's reaction.

"Sounds like Sandburg to me."

A burst of laughter, joined by Jim, the black man tossing an
apologetic glance at Blair, with no idea the hurt he was causing. And
then Jim had let loose a carefully constructed obfuscation, something
about Blair being too short and not his type at all. Then Simon had
admitted that half the guys down the station had bets on when they
would get together and that he'd made no attempt to stop them because
he knew how ridiculous the idea was in the first place. Finishing his
beer, the Captain had got up and left and Blair had kept to his seat,
unwilling to move for fear of what he might do or say.

Of course, Jim had apologised and of course, Blair had let him and
once again, the brief hurt had been healed in the waters of their
lovemaking.

But that had been only the seeds of destruction. Over the ensuing
month, those seeds grew forth whole forests of dissatisfaction and
discontent. Blair, hurting deep where he wouldn't let even Jim see
it, had, a week later, deliberately stayed out all night, coming home
stinking of booze and smoke - some of it illegal. Jim hadn't said
anything and in the morning Blair was woefully sorry for being such
an idiot. Happily he blamed himself and set about cooking a special
dinner for Jim to make it up to him. Neither of them spoke about it
directly - but then Jim was late back for dinner because he had to
work and his absence so disappointed Blair he got angry all over
again and dumped the whole meal in the bin before Jim got home.

He went to bed with only his anger as company and fell asleep,
forgetting about the whole thing. Jim never joined him and when he
awoke, he went downstairs to find the detective on the couch, a
blanket over him, dead to the world.

And in reality, that was when Blair really started to get angry. But
it was never a loud anger, no. He kept it banked, storing it each day
as Jim made one little mistake after another, ignoring Blair's now
half-hearted attempts to put things right. He also ignored all the
small things Blair did deliberately, little hurts struck back in
frustration, in self-protection. He had to even the score and none of
it had any effect. And all the while, Blair had cried silently to
himself for Jim to wake up to what was happening, that it was all
going wrong, that they really needed some answers desperately now.

Blair reached the Volvo with his head spinning in memory. The shadows
of arguments rattled around inside him, making him dizzy. With a
sigh, he climbed into the car and sat there for  a moment,
deliberately pushing the cobwebs away, focussing on what he had to
do. He started the car and pulled out into the road, travelling the
short distance to his apartment. But it was with heavy feet that he
climbed up the stairs, opened the door. He dropped his backpack and
crossed the small distance to the couch. Suddenly tired, he laid down
and put an arm across his eyes.

He'd said he would go out with Jim - and he would. Wanted to. Had to
know why Jim had asked him in the first place. But even as a part of
his mind worked out what he had to wear, how long it would take him
to shower and shave, another part recklessly trickled back to those
days when things were no longer so good and in fact, began to get so
bad he could still feel the pain now, weeks later.

Valiantly, he tried to get a hold on it - but it had got a hold on
him and relentlessly, he went back again.

They'd needed answers, yes, answers to end the pain, the fights. But
it just went on and on and only ever got worse. Arguments would flare
up over the silliest things, with a hard bedrock of supressed
discontent neither was willing to bring into the open. Real
communication had become impossible, with too much being said and too
much not being said. It had seemed easier to attack the superficial
things - because the deeper questions were simply too difficult now,
too impossible. And when there weren't arguments, there was the
silence. Tougher and more impenetrable than anything else. Silences
which had left Blair as cold as a glacier. Sex, when they did get
around to it, had become almost frantic, as though neither wanted
more than release with little of the wonderful afterglow to be shared
afterwards. Then came that horrible night when Jim had come home at
four in the morning and got into bed drunk, cuddled up to Blair -
reeking of women's perfume. For the first time, Blair's tears became
real as he lay there next to the slumbering man, wondering how it
could have gone from being so wonderful to being so hopelessly awful
in such a short time.

The next day, Blair had declared that he would be sleeping back in
his own room and Jim, wise to what he'd done, even though he'd
offered no explanation whatsoever, hadn't argued. Blair had moved his
clothes while Jim was at work, cleaned the rest of the loft and had
tried to pretend that his heart wasn't breaking. Because somewhere
during that day he had worked out what was wrong.

Jim didn't love him.

Never once, during any of their time together, no matter how quiet
and intimate, had Jim ever said anything about love. And yet, it had
seemed to be there, between them, unspoken, but real, alive, burning
and the centre of all that was wonderful about them being together.

And yet, Jim had never said a word. He had called Blair sweetheart
and baby. He had made love to Blair - rather than just having sex
with him. They did almost everything together and Blair had been in
no doubt that he was very very important to Jim - but love?

No, no love.

And that had been the sharpest pain because Blair had loved Jim
deeply, totally and without reserve. For the first time in his life,
he was in love with somebody.

But it had been a love without laughter, love without return and that
was too empty even for Blair.

Blair let out a groan in the silence of his apartment. He didn't want
this to happen but it seemed he had no choice. His head was going to
remember that night no matter what he did. So, having no choice, he
closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it flow back to that
night, six weeks ago when his life had fallen apart completely.

(end part 1)