FAMILY SKELETONS

Part Two

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

The rest of the evening was restful and restoring. Both took their own showers, though neither bothered with closing doors or hiding behind towels and robes anymore. They shared the bathroom fully, just taking turns at which one was in the stall.

Jim wished he wasn't as tired as he was while he watched Blair wander around naked, poking through his suitcase looking for underwear. Having found his own boxers, Jim had slid into bed and was now just enjoying the view.

Blair soon located a tank shirt and boxers, then crawled into bed with Jim and snuggled up close. There were actually quite a few nights they spent this way, just relaxing in each other's arms, talking, joking around, sharing news of the day when they'd been parted by their separate pursuits. Sometimes they ended up sharing a simple hand-job before dozing off. Occasionally, like tonight, they just lay there, enjoying the closeness and talking a little.

Tired as he was, Jim still couldn't seem to go to sleep. Blair thought long and hard before saying anything, but then he ventured it.

"Jim, Anna told me what one of your mom's favorite songs was."

"She did? What was it?" Jim seemed genuinely interested.

"'Walk Away Renee'."

"Yeah...I guess I've heard it on the radio once or twice. Always seemed a little off...guess I was thinking of her version." He smiled at the thought. "Yeah, I remember her singing to me at night. What a voice."

"You want me to, um, sing it for you?" Blair offered, a little uncertain of why he thought he knew the lyrics. He'd heard the song before, but he normally wouldn't have volunteered to sing it.

"I'd love to hear you sing, sweetheart." Jim kissed the top of his head.

"I'm kinda rusty on how it starts, and I'm not sure I got it right, but I think I do." Blair was quiet a minute and then began:

"And when I see the sign that

Points one way,

The place we used to pass by

Most every day...

Just walk away Renee,

You won't see me follow you back home

Now as the rain beats down upon my weary eyes

For me to cry.

From deep inside the tears

I'm forced to cry,

From deep inside the pain that

I chose to hide...

Just walk away Renee,

You won't see me follow you back home.

The empty sidewalks on my block are not the same

You're not to blame.

Your name and mine inside a heart

Upon a wall

Still finds a way to haunt me

Though they're so small.

Just walk away, Renee

You won't see me follow you back home

The empty sidewalks on my block are not the same

You're not to blame..."

Blair looked up at Jim. His breathing was steady, his eyes closed, his face peaceful. Thanks, Amanda, Blair thought silently.

When Blair woke the next morning, he was alone in bed. Like he usually did when Jim got up first, he slid over into Jim's vacated space. It still smelled like his lover, and he snuggled down and started dozing again. A knock at the door disturbed him as sleep was just reaching out to claim him.

"Who's there?" he asked, pushing up on one elbow and pulling his hair out of his eyes. The door cracked slightly, but no one looked in the room.

"It's Anna, Blair. Jimmy asked me to wake you up at nine."

"He did? You can come in if you want," he said, sitting up in bed.

"I brought you some coffee and one of my fresh apple cinnamon muffins. I just made them, so they're still warm." She crossed the room with a plate bearing the muffin and a large mug.

"No wonder Jim likes you so much," Blair said, smiling and accepting the two items. After a sip of the coffee, he set it on the night stand. "Thanks, Anna. What'd Jim want me for?"

"He's out in the stables. He wanted to take you out riding." Her eyes were scanning the destruction they hadn't fixed in the adjacent sitting room.

"We had kind of a rough night." Blair was nibbling his muffin when he noticed her silence. Looking up, he caught her horrified expression. He choked a little and gulped some coffee to chase it. "Not like that," he clarified, wondering which one of them was blushing more thoroughly. Humor was usually the best stress-breaker, so Blair tried it. "Anna, Jim won't even let me leave socks on the floor. Even I'm not hot enough stuff to make him mess up a room." He watched her evaluate the remark for a second, and then chuckle along with him. "Can you sit down a minute? I hate eating alone." He gestured at the foot of the bed. The older woman sat on the edge of it. "These muffins are awesome."

"I'm glad you like them," she responded, smiling.

"Does it bother you?"

"What?"

"Jim and me. You can be honest."

"When Mrs. Gregory told me to prepare just the one room...I was shocked." She seemed to carefully contemplate her next comment. "When Jimmy was little, he didn't get a lot of love in this house. Then there was a failed marriage...he wrote to me about Carolyn. Just bits and pieces, but he wasn't happy, and the divorce hurt him a great deal." She smiled slightly now. "But all I have to do is see the way he looks at you, and I can't be disgusted by that. And I know you really love him."

"He's...my whole life. I'd do anything for Jim."

"I know that. It shows. I knew it as soon as I saw you tell Donald off at the will reading."

"Not one of my finer moments," Blair said, setting his empty plate aside and concentrating on the coffee.

"I disagree. Blair, no one ever stood up for Jimmy in this family before. I'm very glad he found you."

"Me too." Blair smiled widely.

"You should get dressed. He'll think I'm slipping in my old age if I can't roust lazy boys out of bed anymore." She stood up and headed for the door, still smiling.

Blair strolled out to the stables, pausing by the fence to watch Jim riding a large black stallion at a leisurely trot around the area.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Jim called out, heading over for the fence as Blair hoisted himself up to sit on it. That put him at an accessible level for Jim to swoop down precariously low and plant a big sloppy kiss right on his lips. He got down off the horse. "Come on, sweetheart. Stick your foot right in that stirrup and swing your other leg over his back--you ever ride before?"

"Uh-uh. And that's a monster, not a horse." Blair regarded the large horse with great trepidation.

"Trust me?"

"I just don't want to end up as horse food, that's all."

"Won't happen. Because I'm going to eat you alive later. Now do it."

"You better not let go of the reins." Blair finally got up on the horse as directed. He'd ridden a camel before, and even a donkey, but somehow, he hadn't gotten around to horses. Camels and donkeys didn't move as fast as horses. He was stunned to feel Jim remove his foot from one stirrup long enough to get the leverage he needed to mount the horse himself.

"Get your foot back in there now, Chief." Blair did as he was told, loving the feel of Jim pressed up behind him, arms around him to hold the reigns in front of them. "Hold onto my arms. I don't want you sliding off."

"No problem."

"Have I told you I love you yet this morning?"

"Nope." Blair leaned back against Jim, stroking his arms.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Blair stiffened a little as Jim started kissing the side of his neck. "Come on, man, we're not exactly private here."

"So what?" Jim discontinued his nibbling little kisses. "How come you pulled your hair back?"

"Jim, forget my hair a minute. Don't you think those guys from the stables can see what we're doing out here?"

"And what the hell have they got to say about it? You're forgetting whose name goes at the bottom of their payroll checks." Jim's tone softened considerably for the next thing he said. "You know, Chief, this is as close to Utopia as we could get. A place where we can take long walks holding hands, make love in the grass, go riding together, dance in the ballroom while someone serves us an elegant dinner...I've been doing a lot of thinking this morning." The horse shifted a little in its stance, antsy to get moving. Jim obliged it and started them out at a slow trot toward the spot where an open gate led to a trail into the woods.

"I guess you have been thinking a lot," Blair responded quietly, relaxing into the experience. It truly was exceptionally beautiful on the grounds of what was now, Jim's estate.

"My mother wanted me to have this place. It meant something to her. She rode down these same trails, grew up in that house... she left me a real paradise here, Chief. I should say, she left us a real paradise. And with them loosening up that residency requirement at the PD--"

"You want us to live here?"

"As long as I reside in the county, I'm okay. And I know you like it here."

"Yeah, but--"

"But what? It's mine, and the income from the orchard and stud fees from horses like this guy here...it supports itself."

"What about...I mean, don't you have, like a lot of major bad memories here?"

"You know what I remember most about this place? I remember the quiet walks or rides I used to take through these woods. I remember bits and pieces about my mother--so much more when I'm here--and I remember us making love in my favorite clearing, and I remember us wrestling through my grief together, and you telling me about Eric. I remember you putting Donald in his place--sticking up for me with that joke that passes for a family. And I remember how little the money means to you as long as I'm happy. The rest of the silly shit my fath--the old man--put me though all those years ago is just that. A pile of shit that it's time to shovel out of the way and get on with my life."

"I just want you to be happy, lover."

"I know that. Would you like living here? I was thinking we could fix up either that big bedroom in front that overlooks the woods, or that other one on the West side of the house that has the view of the orchard for your office. Or you could use the office downstairs."

"Too stuffy. All that dark wood and the big desk--shit, I'd feel like one of my old professors."

"You pick whatever room you want in the house, and we'll fix it up just the way you want it. Anything you want in it."

"Anything?" Blair asked, looking back at Jim as best he could without squirming too much as the horse trotted along at a leisurely pace.

"Within reason." Jim punctuated the reply with a poorly aimed kiss that landed somewhere near Blair's eye.

"I bet you could have sex on horseback."

"What?!"

"Yeah. If could get my pants down and lean forward, and your aim was good, and all this up and down--"

"You're sick." Jim laughed at Blair's absurd, yet arousing, mental picture. "I think you should give up the textbook-writing and start writing steamy male erotica."

"Hey, I found some of that on the 'net. We could learn from that stuff, man."

"Is that where you read about two guys fucking on horseback?"

"No, that one I came up with by myself. Think I'll stick to the textbooks. If I write a dirty story, I'll write it for you."

"You haven't said if you want to live here."

"I want to live with you. And who wouldn't love this place? It's beautiful. If you want to live here, so do I."

"Then it's settled."

"This is different than a camel."

"It is, huh?" Jim responded, chuckling. Only my Blair...

"Donkeys are always gonna be slow, so those aren't too threatening. But I bet this guy could really fly if he cut loose."

"Yup. He's a thoroughbred. Racing material."

"Oh, no." Blair laughed a little. "Don't tell Simon. Not after that whole 'Little Stogie' disaster."

"Hey, they can't all be winners."

"What's his name?" Blair ventured one hand off Jim's arm to stroke the horse's mane.

"Shadow Dancer."

"I like that. It suits him."

"I'm going to call Thorne Westbrook."

"When?"

"This afternoon. I figure, it's no big surprise I exist. And I'll let him know right up front that I don't plan on showing up down there in Palm Beach and complicating his life. I'm a little old to go looking for a daddy."

"Maybe he's looking for a son. If he loved Amanda half as much as those letters sounded like he did--"

"His wife might not be amused."

"Think she knows?"

"Probably not. That's my point, Chief. The only way I'm going to look him up is if it doesn't screw up his life. My mother made her choice to stay with her husband, and it's not fair for me to show up now and mess everything up for him."

"How could you mess anything up by showing up in somebody's life? Man, if that's getting messed up, thanks for messing me up, Jim."

"I want to mess you up for real. We're not far from our clearing."

"I didn't bring anything--"

"I did."

"Typical boy scout."

"They don't teach you to always carry lube in case you want to have hot, passionate sex in the woods. I figured that one out all by myself."

The horse carried them to their favorite spot, where Jim secured him to one of the old trees. He headed toward the middle of the clearing with Blair behind him. He wasn't prepared for the other man to jump on his back and push them both down in a pile of fallen leaves. With a few easy maneuvers, he had an unresisting Blair pinned under him.

"Trying the old ambush from behind move, huh?"

"I love ambushing your behind." Blair was working on the buttons of Jim's shirt, figuring the open coat would fall away once he had the other offending garments loosened.

"First things first," Jim said, pulling the hair band out of Blair's hair, loosening it so it fanned out in the leaves.

"Man, do you know how much junk I'm gonna have in my hair?"

"I'll wash it myself when we get home." Jim began warring with Blair's arms to reach the smaller man's clothing. After a few minutes of passionate wrestling, they found themselves naked on the bed of leaves. Jim grabbed his discarded coat and spread it on the leaves. "Come on, lie back on this. I don't want leaves anywhere they shouldn't be." With a little chortle, Blair complied, touched at the gesture. Jim lowered himself down until his body blanketed Blair, his weight supported partially on his forearms, his fingers threading through his lover's soft curls.

"We're gonna catch pneumonia if we keep doing this," Blair said softly, running his hands over the firm planes of Jim's chest.

"I seem to recall being told I'd go blind from certain other activities, but that never stopped me either." A large knee insinuated itself between Blair's legs, urging them apart.

"Anna seems pretty cool about us."

"She's glad I'm happy." He kissed Blair lightly. "And in love." Again. "And loved back." Again. "Did I mention happy?"

"Man, it must be something in the water here. You're so... romantic all of a sudden."

"I've always been romantic. You just never fully appreciated me." Jim rolled them on their sides so he could hold Blair close and let his hands roam freely over the beloved body in his arms.

"Gee, how can I make it up to you, I wonder?" Blair arched against Jim, bringing their erections into closer contact. "Wanna hump?"

"We are," Jim gasped in between thrusts.

"I mean...ohhhh, yeahhh...instead of...uhhh...the main event."

"Oh, man...Oh, God...you know...the right time...to ask..." Jim felt a wonderful wet suction on his left nipple. "Aw, man..." The mouth moved in a wet trail across to the right and fastened there.

Jim's hands slid up and down Blair's back, finally fastening onto the rounded buttocks and pressing their groins tightly together, picking up the rocking motion that was bringing their pleasure to a painful intensity. He swooped down and attacked Blair's neck, licking, nipping and leaving little love bites on his throat and shoulder.

A little cry from Blair signaled the beginning of his climax, and amidst mingled grunts and cries of pleasure, both men came.

When his sanity returned, Jim rolled onto his back, Bringing Blair up on top of him like a warm human blanket. Groping on the ground, he found his coat and brought it over Blair's back.

"Love you," Blair mumbled, rubbing his face against the curve of Jim's neck.

"Love you most." Jim let himself drift into that lazy half-sleep that followed good sex.

"Uh-uh. I win."

"In your dreams. Nobody loves anybody as much as I love you."

"I do. More. So I win."

"Shut up and kiss me." Blair happily complied.

"We should get moving," Blair said, raising up and resting his hands on Jim's chest. Jim opened his eyes and looked up at the flushed face, reddened lips and towseled hair.

Jim just wanted to relax here, and then rally enough to really make love to Blair, all the way. But if Blair had set the pace at humping, it was his subtle way of letting Jim know he wasn't in the mood for anything more. In the first months of their relationship, that had always made Jim uneasy. He'd be sure he'd either hurt Blair the last time or that his lover was upset or angry over something. As their relationship solidified over the past two years, he learned it was just a normal variation in Blair's moods, and sometimes he didn't feel like taking or being taken. There were certainly more than a few nights where all Jim felt like doing was snuggling under the covers with Blair and going to sleep. And Blair always happily accommodated him.

"Just relax, sweetheart. We can rest a few minutes and then finish our ride. I want to show you the orchard, and the rest of the grounds." He smiled as Blair slumped back down on top of him, his head resting on Jim's chest, just under the larger man's chin.

"I wish we could be like this forever."

"What do you mean, baby? We will be like this forever."

"I mean, this is kind of like a honeymoon. We're together all the time, making love whenever we want...it's like paradise." Blair stiffened a little. "Oh, man, that was really insensitive of me."

"What?" Jim cuddled him closer, kissing his hair.

"Your dad just died, and all this other stuff...man. What an asshole I am."

"You mean, what an asshole you have. My favorite asshole."

"That's gross," Blair responded, laughing.

"You're not being insensitive, sweetheart. I feel the same way." Both were silent a while.

"So when we're gone, who do we leave all this to, huh?" Blair asked.

"Why would you be worried about that?"

"Your mother probably thought you'd be passing this on to your son someday. Do you, you know, regret that? I mean, we can't have kids, obviously."

"You mean you're back on the pill and you didn't tell me?" Jim asked in mock anger. Blair had to laugh in spite of his desire to remain serious. "If I wanted kids, Chief, I wouldn't be in this relationship. I knew what limitations there would be on us from the start. But not one of them is even worth mentioning. This, what we have...it's everything." Jim paused. "But then, I never asked you. I mean, you ask me if I feel bad about not having kids. What about you? You're so great with them."

"I like kids...kind of. I mean, some of them are really nice, but I guess I didn't have a real nice experience with kids growing up. I saw their cold, cliquey, mean sides a lot."

"I'd never allow any child of mine to act that way."

"You don't control that, Jim. But if you raise them right, they probably don't act that way." Jim was surprised to hear a judgmental statement come out of his usually generous-spirited lover. "Usually the kids that were making fun of me or shutting me out of their little groups had parents who acted the same way toward Naomi when she went to a parents' night. We were always a little different, and if your parents teach you to fear or ridicule people who behave, dress or act differently than you, that's how you act. Looking back, I don't blame the children."

"I'm still trying to picture Naomi at parents' night." Jim chuckled and Blair laughed out loud.

"She tried, Jim. She really gave it her best shot." Blair smiled fondly at remembering how his mother had looked then. Long straight hair, various crystals dangling from a couple of necklaces...she didn't fit with the PTA set. "But single moms still weren't as common as they are now, and single hippie moms really didn't go over very well. Plus, she usually managed to catch the eye of a couple of the dads in the group."

"There's your answer why Naomi wasn't welcome at parents' night. She'd be every bland, uptight housewife's worst nightmare."

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's the matter, baby?" Jim pulled a little hair back from Blair's face, concerned with his defeated tone of voice.

"I know that's just...Naomi. It's just that sometimes I wanted her to...to just be like everybody else's mom. How lousy of me is that?" He wasn't silent long enough for Jim to answer. "I mean, I love her uniqueness, her flair..."

"But her flirting and her active love life had to be a hard roller coaster ride for you sometimes."

"I never felt like I could...relax. It was like I was...I don't know...always on the move."

Blair didn't say anything more, and Jim thought about the words. His energetic lover had seemed much more languid and settled inside since they'd made a commitment to each other. Blair's jittery behavior had even quieted somewhat when he began to realize he wasn't going to be tossed out of the loft. He rubbed Blair's back gently, realizing that relaxing was so hard for this little bundle of energy because every time he'd tried it as a child, he'd either been uprooted and moved somewhere new, or he'd had to adjust to a new man living with Naomi, or face a new school. "It's time to relax now, sweetheart." He found Blair's hand and brought it up for a kiss, then resting it on his chest, still clutched tightly in his own larger hand. "Nobody's going to jerk the rug out from under you."

"This place...it feels so...permanent." Blair raised up again to look at Jim, and now he was smiling. "I like that."

"Me too. And I'm calling Donnelly in the morning. I want the deed to the property in both our names."

"You don't have to do that, Jim."

"Yes, I do. If anything happens to me, I don't want you harassed by my asshole relatives. My will spells everything out, but I don't want to take any chances."

"If anything happens to you, I don't care what happens to me."

"Listen to me, Chief. I'm healthy and too damned happy to die, so I don't plan on doing it any time soon. But if I live to be an old goat, and I go before you do, and you're an old goat too, by then, I want you to be taken care of."

"I'm not exactly a pauper, Jim. I mean, this new book deal... the money is, like...big time stuff."

"But it doesn't give you retirement income."

"I'll take care of that."

"Is there some reason you want to make it so damned hard for me to take care of you?" Jim asked, no real recrimination in his tone.

"I'm used to taking care of myself."

"You take care of me all the time. You fuss over what I eat, you're there for me every time I've just had a bad day, let alone for the big things. You give head rubs, back rubs, foot rubs and... and yourself anytime you know I need it. I'm not as good at that stuff as you are. So this is my way to take care of you."

"I love you. A lot."

"Ditto, Chief."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"My ass is frozen. Your coat's almost over my head but my ass is hanging out, and it's probably turning blue."

"Sounds pretty erotic to me."

"Pervert." Blair rolled off Jim, exposing his chest to the cool October morning air. "Guess you'll have to thaw it out later."

"Guess so." Jim straightened to a sitting position and leaned over to kiss Blair's lips gently. "Come on. I want to show you the rest of our paradise." He stood up and pulled Blair to his feet, and they dressed quickly, anxious to get back on the horse now and continue their explorations.

"Where's my hair band?" Blair looked around on the ground.

"Probably in those leaves somewhere," Jim responded, fingering it in the pocket of his coat.

"Oh, shit. Jim. If I show up at the house with my hair all over the place with leaves stuck in it--"

"Somebody might think we made wild, passionate love in the woods. So what? Honest to God, Blair, for someone who's such a free spirit, you can be a real tight-ass sometimes."

"I thought you appreciated that quality in a lover."

"Did I say 'tight-ass'? I meant 'smart ass'."

"Did you ever notice how many times you use 'ass' in a sentence when you're talking about me? Suppose that's an indicator of a one-track mind?"

"You have a great ass and I have a one-track mind. Sounds dangerous to me." Jim squeezed Blair a little as he wrapped arms around him from behind. "Besides, the hair hides that monster hickey on your neck."

"Oh, terrific."

"Anna doesn't shock as easily as you might think, baby. Come on. Let's get moving."

Jim and Blair took their time riding leisurely around the estate. Jim was determined that Blair would see every sight worth seeing on the extensive spread of property, which meant a trip through the orchard and down to the pond. By the time they returned to the house, Blair was convinced that Jim was right: this was the closest thing to paradise they could find on earth. They had their own campgrounds, outdoor swimming spot, stable of horses, sprawling stately mansion with rooms for every conceivable use...and no reason to have to hide the nature of their relationship from the staff who kept it all running. As Jim so aptly pointed out, he was the boss there, and that put an end to worrying about explaining themselves or keeping up appearances.

Their next activity was roaming through the house to pick out Blair's office. "Blair's office" at the loft was a combination of his old bedroom an any other flat surface upon which books and papers could be spread. Jim had accepted the clutter of living with a career writer during the creation of the first textbook, finding that he desired Blair's presence much more than neatness.

"This one!" Blair finally declared, standing in the middle of one of the more sedate guest rooms. It was a large, square room with an adjoining bath and walk-in closet. There was no balcony but a phenomenal view of the panorama of autumn colors displayed by the woods in front of the house.

"This is the one I had in mind," Jim said, smiling.

"Really? Oh, man, it's perfect! I can put my desk right here in front of the big windows overlooking the woods. I can see the seasons change! And I can put bookshelves in that big closet, along with all those file boxes of lecture notes I've got...and there's some great wall space here for those African masks I've had in storage."

"It's all yours, sweetheart. Do whatever you want with it."

"Why'd you pick this one out for me?"

"The view, partly. And it has a special significance for me. This was my mom's room when she was growing up here."

"Oh, man, really?" Blair said, grinning. "But are you sure you don't want it for an office yourself? I mean, it's not like there aren't enough to choose from for me to pick a different one."

"I want somebody I love in it. Besides, I think as lord of the manor, it would send out the right message for me to take over the big office downstairs. You know, the oak paneling and the squishy padded carpeting gives the right message of power and conspicuous consumption."

"Yeah, then all the staff'll come up here to the friendly office to get me to put in a good word for them with the boss."

"You really like it?"

"I love it, Jim. Why wouldn't I? This whole place is... beautiful."

"When I said 'anything', I meant it. You can tear out the carpeting, change the walls, hang beads in the doorway. Whatever turns you on."

"Whatever turns me on, huh?" Blair gave him a leering once-over with his eyes.

"Now who's got the one-track mind." Jim swatted Blair's rear as he moved toward the window to have a look at the view.

"When're you calling Westbrook?"

"Guess there's no time like the present. Come on."

"Hey, Jim, maybe you ought to talk to him in private."

"Why? I'm just going to tell you everything he said anyway. This'll save me the re-hash. There're two phones in the office downstairs. You can listen in on the extension. I don't want to put him on speaker phone. He'd probably notice that and get uneasy."

"Okay, if you're sure. But I wouldn't mind waiting for you to tell me whatever you want me to know."

"I want you to know everything. So come on." Jim took a hold of Blair's hand and led him downstairs. Elizabeth was just approaching the foot of the stairs as they descended.

"There you are! Adam and I will be leaving soon and we didn't want to miss saying goodbye."

"I'm sorry we disappeared on you, Aunt Ellie. I guess I just needed some time to...figure things out."

"That's understandable, dear. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, much better," Jim replied. "Hey, why don't you and Adam come back for a visit the next time your schedules are clear for a while? We'd love to have you back under happier circumstances."

"Does this mean you're keeping the house?"

"That's what it means. It's beautiful here. We both love the setting...why not?"

"I think that's wonderful! Jim, your mother would be so pleased."

"I think so too."

"Oh, and your father, of course. James obviously wanted one of his sons carrying on the tradition here."

"Right." Jim smiled slightly, with that telltale twitch of the jaw Blair had come to know so well.

"We'd love to come back and visit. We'd like to get to know you a little better, too, Blair."

"Same here," he responded, smiling. "I'm sorry we didn't get to spend more time together while you were here."

"We'll fix that next visit," she stated, smiling warmly at the two of them. "Well, Adam is packing the car, and I have to grab a couple of last minute things." Elizabeth hurried up the stairs.

Before calling Westbrook, they waved off Adam and Elizabeth, with exchanged promises for another visit soon. Elizabeth even extended the invitation to the two of them to come and stay at their home in Seattle, possibly over Thanksgiving. Both men were a little stunned at her willingness to have her nephew and his male lover show up at one of her posh holiday gatherings, but then, Elizabeth had always put the love of her family above protocol. It was that attitude that had made her take her brother's less-favored child under her wing many years earlier.

Jim called information for Palm Beach, Florida, and got the phone number for the Westbrook home. With Blair sitting in a big leather chair across the room listening in on the extension, Jim dialed it, and waited as it rang, drumming his fingers on James Ellison, Sr.'s mahogany desk.

"Hello?" A man's voice came on the line.

"Thorne Westbrook?" Jim asked.

"Yes. Who's calling?" The voice was authoritative, but not unfriendly.

"This is Jim Ellison...Amanda Holden Ellison's son." There was a pregnant pause.

"Well, this is a surprise..." the other man began uncertainly.

"I've read my mother's old letters. I know."

"I see." Another silence.

"Are you alone now? Able to talk?"

"Yes. My wife's out with friends."

"Look, I'm not interested in making any waves over this. I just wanted to...well, I guess to let you know that I knew. To introduce myself."

"I-I'm glad you called. You have to understand, this is a bit of a shock. I've...tried to put all this behind me, and now--"

"I meant what I said. I'm not going to cause any trouble for you or make things awkward. I don't plan on showing up on your doorstep. I understand fully if you don't want to have any more contact with me. It was a long time ago." Jim actually didn't mean a word he said. He wanted very much for the man on the other end of the phone to express some interest in meeting him, in getting to know each other.

"I didn't mean that, Jim. Not at all. It's just a shocker, that's all. Amanda was determined you'd be raised an Ellison, and nothing I could say or do would change her mind."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"No. I was going to at a point. I was hurt...angry. She was carrying my child and insisting on staying with another man. She was also claiming she loved both of us--but since she was married to him...she would stay with him." Both men were silent a few seconds. "I was going to tell Ellison because I figured it would break them up, but I knew that Amanda would hate me for that anyway, and then none of us would be happy. So I backed off."

"My fath--James Ellison died last week--riding accident. That's how I happened to be going through my mother's things. How did she happen to come by the letters she mailed to you?"

"She asked for them back. I gave them to her." He paused a moment. "I'm sorry about your father."

"Thanks."

"My wife knows."

"Really?"

"Yes. I told her about it...oh, maybe fifteen years ago now. I had a brush with death--a very bad car accident. It made me re-evaluate a lot of things. One of the things that unnerved me the most was the thought of her learning about it after my death."

"I'm glad she knows. It would be hard keeping that a secret."

"Would you be interested in getting together? I would like to meet you."

"Uh, yes, of course. I have some time off now...I'm on leave from the department to get the estate straightened out."

"Department?"

"I'm a detective with the Cascade PD. Major Crimes Division."

"Fascinating! I'm a psychologist--and my work used to center on the criminally insane."

"Must be genetic, huh?" Jim joked, looking up and Blair and exchanging smiles. This was going well.

"Must be. Look, give me a chance to talk this over with my wife, and I could call you back--is that all right?"

"Of course. I would like to bring my--" he noticed Blair waving and making throat-cutting gestures and shaking his head in the corner. Undaunted, he continued. "There's something else you should know. I would be bringing my partner--"

"From the police department?" The man sounded a little surprised, but not necessarily opposed to the idea.

"Yes and no. He's a consultant to the department, but...we live together, and have for almost four years now. For two years of that we've been...involved with each other." Dead silence. Jim looked at Blair, but his partner's face was hidden behind one splayed hand as his head shook slowly back and forth. "I know this is a lot to hit you with, but I don't keep my relationship with Blair a secret. We're committed to each other, so it would be the same--to me anyway--as bringing my spouse."

"I see."

"Again, I'll understand if you don't want--"

"No, no. I'm just a bit surprised, that's all. Let me talk it over with Vanessa--my wife. I'll give you a call back tonight. What's your number there?" Jim read the number off his father's office phone. "Great. I'll have a talk with her and call you back."

"Okay. I-I'll look forward to it."

"Thank you for calling. I mean that."

"My pleasure."

After the conversation ended, Blair looked at Jim from between his fingers.

"I can't believe you did that."

"Did what? Did you think I was going there alone?"

"You could have. I would have understood."

"I want you with me, Chief."

"You could have said I was your best friend--you didn't have to hit him with that right up front."

"Might as well. There's no way I'd start off a relationship with him based on a lie. And if he wouldn't accept you, we'd have nothing else to talk about anyway. So we might as well save ourselves the hassle and deal with it all up front."

"I hope he calls back."

"He will."

"I mean I hope he still wants us to come. Face it, Jim--a long lost son is one thing to deal with. A long lost son and his male lover is another thing."

"You know, Sandburg, for someone who's as liberal in their viewpoints as you are, you're more anal that I ever thought of being about hiding this relationship. Why is that? I'm beginning to think you're the one who's ashamed of me."

"That's a really rotten thing to say, Jim." Blair stood up and headed for the door of the room.

"Doesn't mean it isn't true. You panic every time I touch you within ten miles of another person."

"I do not." Blair paused in the doorway of the room, his back to Jim.

"Yes, you do. What's the problem, Blair? Do you have some kind of an image problem because you're getting fucked by an older man instead of bedding the succession of mythical women you used to brag about?" Jim leaned back in the chair and rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling. "I can't believe I just said that. I'm sorr--"

"I can't either," Blair replied in a shaking voice before bolting out of the room.

The spring of tension had finally let loose inside Jim Ellison, and he'd turned on the person dearest to him in the world. That he could have tossed something that had been as meaningful to him as Blair's prior virginity in his lover's face that way sickened him. And Blair had certainly never acted ashamed of Jim. He had only tried to keep his lover from shouting their relationship from the rooftops to save the cop from total ostracism.

He tried to tune his hearing to Blair. He wanted to know where he was in the house. He followed the sounds of the familiar heartbeat upstairs to their bedroom, and cringed inside as he heard Blair sobbing into his pillow. He stood up, and with one angry swipe of his arm, cleared the desk of all its neat appointments.

Mad at society for not accepting love as love and making them afraid to just be themselves. Mad at his mother's husband for treating him like a second-class citizen. Mad at his mother for dying. Mad at his brother for storming out of the house after the funeral. Mad at his Uncle Donald for saying he was unworthy to inherit the house. Mad at Thorne Westbrook for backing down and slithering off into the distance and leaving him to live under James Ellison's tyranny.

And who had taken the blow that had to be struck to vent all this anger? Blair. His dear, sweet, loyal Blair who had stood by him through his grief, held him when he cried, offered his body as a consolation prize whenever Jim felt he needed it...

"Jimmy? Are you all right? I heard a crash--oh, dear." Anna had appeared at the door of the room and now hurried in to survey the damage.

"Just leave it, Anna. None of it matters." Jim brushed past her and hurried upstairs.

Blair was still crying, though the wracking sobs had fizzled to quiet tears. Jim listened to them for a few moments before he opened the closed bedroom door and approached the huddled form on the bed. On the blue bedspread, dressed in jeans and a blue sweater, only Blair's chestnut curls contrasted in color...curls that still bore flecks of the autumn leaves they'd gathered as the two men made love in the woods.

"Blair, I-I'm so sorry." Jim stood a few feet from the bed to see if he was going to be forgiven or not.

"Please...just let me be, Jim." Blair could hardly get the words out before more tears came.

"I didn't mean it, sweetheart. You know I didn't."

"Then why...?" Blair asked through his tears, still not turning to look at Jim.

"Because I'm an asshole. Because...maybe because I just hung all my fears and hangups on you because I'm pissed off at the world right now. Maybe because I think someday you're going to wake up and realize how much you're missing out on being with me." Blair didn't hasten to reassure him like he normally would have. Instead, he just lay there crying as if he hadn't heard a word Jim said. "Do you want me on my knees? If that's what it takes--"

"For what? For me to forget it?"

"I'm so...I don't know. It just seems like everything's been turned upside down in just a few days and the only thing that's constant is you. And...I guess I don't like change all that much. I just...lashed out. If I could take it back--"

"But you can't." Blair sniffled a little. "That must be how you...feel on some...level...or you wouldn't...have said it."

"I'm afraid one day you're going to spot some stacked blonde and she's going to give you the usual once-over women do, and you're going to decide you want something better than me."

"How could you think that of me?" Blair demanded through a sob. "I waited all my life...for you. I never...not with anybody else. Why can't you believe in me? God, Jim, what do I have to do to prove to you that I love you? You've got my body, my soul, my heart, anything I have is yours. I don't have anything else to give you to prove myself!" Blair slammed a fist into the mattress to emphasize his statement.

"This isn't about you proving yourself, baby. This is about me and my hang-ups." Jim sat on the edge of the bed behind Blair. "All my life, I stood on my head to get my father's attention and approval. I never really had it. I know why now, but that didn't change the way things were then. And then I married Carolyn... Blair, nobody ever in my life... I kept knocking myself out and it was never enough. Shit, Carolyn even told me I was lousy in the sack. How in the hell could I expect to keep somebody like you forever? I just...I feel like I've lost everything else, and if I lost you now...maybe it's like I'm trying to make it happen so I don't have to be afraid of it anymore."

He felt the mattress shift behind him as Blair sat up, and still sniffling a little, rested his head against Jim's back, sliding his arms around the older man's middle.

"The only way you're going to ever lose me is if you tell me to get lost. Even death--a lot of cultures believe spirits are just in another realm, but they're still around. I'll always be with you unless you don't want me anymore."

"Please, sweetheart, believe me that I didn't mean what I said. It means...so much to me that I was the first. The only one."

"I know." Blair rubbed a soothing hand over Jim's stomach and chest. "Nobody else is ever going to touch me the way you do. I'm never going to love anyone the way I love you. And whatever line of shit Carolyn fed you about being lousy in the sack...maybe she was just wound too damn tight to enjoy you, did that ever occur to you?"

"Not really, no." Jim chuckled a little, covering Blair's hands with his own.

"You're passionate, gentle, romantic, attentive--the fact you've got a body that would stop traffic doesn't hurt either." Blair smiled against Jim's back as he felt the rumble of his lover's laughter.

"How do you do that? Make me laugh when I want to be miserable?"

"It's that irresistible Sandburg charm. Jim, look, I know Carolyn really raked you over the coals with the divorce. But even if she was telling the truth and your sex life wasn't too fulfilling, just remember that it takes two people to make love. Hanging all the blame on one partner is silly. Maybe you didn't love her enough or she didn't love you enough or you weren't sexually compatible somehow...or maybe she was just plain lying. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. I can vouch for your abilities in the sack, man. They aren't lacking in anything."

"I really am sorry." Jim turned around and took his lover into his arms, kissing his hair and smiling as he extracted a piece of dried leaf.

"You promised me a shampoo, big guy."

"Almost need a shower to go with that."

"Yeah, it's kind of a package deal."

"I love you, sweetheart. Believe that."

"I do, lover. I love you too." Blair pulled back a little. "Now you said something about a shower, I believe?"

Blair tidied up the last of the soaked towels in the bathroom as Jim got dressed in the bedroom. He smiled as he thought back of the look on Jim's face when Blair pulled him, robe and all, down into the bathtub. Jim had tried to make up for his prior insensitivity by lavishing pampering attentions on Blair, preparing the warm bath, shampooing his hair... but Blair had other ideas, and sharing the porcelain confines of the tub with Jim was a lot more fun that being pampered in it alone.

As he tossed the last of the towels into the hamper, pitying poor Jayne, the maid who had to gather the laundry each day, he heard the phone ring. Jim was just answering as he came out of the bathroom to join him.

"That's great news.... Well, I have to check the airport here and see what kind of flight arrangements... You did? Look, I really want to take care of that... I appreciate that, but still, I don't want--... All right," Jim concluded, smiling. "Thanks. Let me get the exact flight times from you." Jim was standing by the desk in the corner of the room, and had located a note pad. "I guess we'll be seeing you tomorrow evening then... Yeah, I am too... Great. Thanks very much.... Okay, got it... Okay. Goodnight." Jim hung up the phone.

"That sounded pretty upbeat," Blair commented.

"Not only do they want both of us to come there for a visit, but he's already made flight reservations and paid for the tickets. I tried to talk him out of that, but he insisted."

"Sounds kind of like he's acting like a dad already."

"I don't want to get my hopes up. I mean, I'm sure he's curious."

"If he was really in love with your mother, he's probably more than curious. He's probably jumping up and down in his swanky condo."

"He did sound pretty happy," Jim responded, a slight smile curving his mouth.

"Man, this is so cool. I wonder..."

"If he's got any sentinel abilities?" Jim regarded Blair with affectionate exasperation.

"Sorry. I can't help wondering. Are you sure he's okay with me coming along?"

"Fine. He said he and his wife wanted to meet both of us and that I should tell you you're more than welcome." As Jim scanned the flight information with a slight smile, Blair wondered why he felt uneasy. Usually Jim was the skeptical one, but for some reason, this was just all falling together a little too easily for Blair's tastes.

Finding himself restless as dawn approached, Blair got out of bed and moved about stealthily, dressing in the semi-darkness. He knew Jim heard him, but the larger man seemed content to roll over and go back to sleep. He was used to Blair slipping out of bed and roaming around to follow a writing inspiration or just because he was awake and tired of remaining dormant.

The house seemed ghostly in this gray half-light. Anna's ruminations in the kitchen were only distant distractions as Blair stood in the second floor hallway, looking down on the entry hall. Traveling didn't really give him the jitters anymore. Certainly not a minor excursion like a trip from one posh setting to another aboard a commercial jet. Taking the barf-bag-special into some remote, undercivilized community--that was something worthy of the jitters.

He wandered downstairs, ending up in the living room and not knowing exactly why. He sat on the couch and stared at the portrait of Amanda Holden Ellison in the eerie gray light that wasn't night and yet still couldn't qualify as day, either.

There was something in her expression that troubled Blair. Maybe it was because he knew Jim's face so well that he could pick up on an irregularity in the expression of a woman he'd never met. She was ostensibly smiling, but there was something lurking under the surface. He wondered if her jaw ever gave her away like her son's did.

For a split second, he felt those blue eyes reaching right down into his soul...

"What're you doing down here, Chief?" Jim's voice startled him, and he continued to regard the painting with some suspicion. "Blair? Hey, sweetheart, are you sick or something?" Jim came around the end of the couch, still in his robe.

"N-No, I'm fine. I was just...thinking."

"Is it a private party or can I think with you?"

"It's a private party, all right--just you and me." Blair looked up at him with a smile. Jim sat next to him and Blair nestled against his side, head on the larger man's shoulder.

"I used to come down here sometimes. In the morning like this. I know it's silly, but it was like it was my time with her, you know?"

"It's not silly. When was that photograph taken?"

"The New Year's Eve before she died. She wore that dress for the New Year's Eve party. That I remember."

"Really?"

"Yeah, because she snuck upstairs and spent midnight with me."

"That was cool. How'd she get away with that?"

"Same way I'm told she got away with everything else she did--she just did it. She slipped upstairs about five before twelve, with a handful of confetti, party hats and those curly things you blow out straight?"

"I don't know what they're called either."

"Whoa. Wish I had a tape recorder. Finally--something Blair Sandburg can't define."

"Oh shut up."

"Sorry, Chief. Couldn't resist. Anyway, I was still awake, kind of listening to the party. So we sat on the bed in our funny hats and counted down with the clock on the night stand and then she gave me half the confetti and we threw it at each other and blew those curly things. It sounds stupid, but it was fun. I thought it was the neatest thing in the world."

"Actually, it sounds pretty cool. I wish I could have met your mom."

"Something tells me she would've loved you."

"She sounds...unconventional. Independent. I like that."

"She told me that she wanted to ring in the new year with her favorite guy. I thought that was so cool."

"You were what, three-and-a-half?"

"Yeah. I don't remember much, but that memory is so clear..." Jim's voice shook a little. "So I'd come down here and stare up at the picture, and remember... God, I missed her so much."

"Did your dad explain death pretty well to you? That's so hard with young kids."

"Pretty well. He had to re-explain it as I got older--with more factual detail. I know he had drilled it into my head that she was gone and she wasn't coming back and that she was an angel up in heaven. Anna kind of added her own spin to that. She said that she was a guardian angel who would always look out for me."

"That's nice. I like Anna a lot. She's a sweet lady."

"She sure is. But I think she was right. Sometimes I think maybe my mother decided it was time for me to find my soulmate again and shoved you my way."

"Do you really mean that?" Blair straightened up to face Jim.

"Well, yeah...I guess. I believe in life after death...I don't think anybody knows exactly what happens... And you and I are about the most unlikely couple on earth, and yet here we are... I just wonder sometimes if there's something fated about it...or if something beyond us brought us here." Jim shook his head and looked away from Blair's intent eyes. "I'm rambling."

"No, no you're not," Blair hastened to reassure him.

"All I know is that there was this...place inside. And it was hollow and empty and cold after she died. And it stayed there and grew and got colder and emptier until...until this flaky little guy with the long hair and the jungle music and the reams of books and the most amazing big blue eyes moved into that space and filled it with light and love and warmth..." Jim trailed off, feeling embarrassed to have blurted it all out that way.

"I think that's the most beautiful thing anybody ever said to me in my entire life," Blair responded quietly, wiping away a couple of tears that had escaped.

"What do you think of him, Mom?" He pulled Blair against him as he spoke to the portrait. "If you did this somehow, thank you." He leaned down and kissed the top of Blair's head.

"Just my luck. I get a really cool mother-in-law and never get to meet her." Something about the silly comment made Jim laugh.

"I smell food."

"Anna was probably just thinking about cooking something," Blair teased, referring to Jim's sentinel-level senses.

"She's doing more than thinking, sweetheart. The bacon just hit the pan...and she's cracking the eggs...one, two, three..." He looked down at Blair, who was watching him with the fascinated eyes of the anthropology student he'd fallen in love with years ago. He kissed the end of Blair's nose. "Come on, Chief. Let's go investigate."

It was a long but uneventful trip from Cascade to Palm Beach. Jim had teased Blair about shedding a shirt every thousand miles, as the younger man had opted for his favorite layered look, peeling it down as they approached the warmer climate. Jim had opted for a simple blue shirt and leather jacket, as he could simply remove the jacket when they arrived in the warm climate. Blair had prattled on about gradually adjusting to the changes, but it had been so much soothing sound to doze by for Jim.

Thorne Westbrook insisted on having his driver at the airport to meet Jim and Blair. There was a white Lincoln Town Car pulled up near the curb as the two men exited the building. An tall, older man with a crop of gray hair, blue eyes and a confident stride got out of the car and approached them. Dressed in khaki shorts and a beige cotton shirt with a country club insignia on the pocket, he was definitely not a chauffeur.

"Sending my driver seemed a bit impersonal. Thorne Westbrook." He held out his hand toward Jim, who hesitated only momentarily before shaking it.

"Jim Ellison." Jim smiled slightly, as did his father. There was a moment of silent mutual appraisal before Jim remembered his manners and introduced Blair.

"Pleasure to meet you, Blair." Westbrook held out his hand, and Blair shook it happily. Having stuffed his overshirts in his travel bag, leaving him in tan cotton pants and a pale blue short sleeved shirt, with his hair pulled back, he blended with the natives much more unobtrusively than his partner, who carried his leather jacket over his arm, now rolling up the sleeves of his dark blue shirt.

"It's really good to meet you too. Thanks for extending the invitation to include me."

"My pleasure. That's all you have for luggage?" He indicated the single large suitcase and two travel bags as he opened the trunk.

"I guess we travel light," Jim responded.

"My God, Jim. You are the absolute image of Amanda." The older man smiled fondly at his son. Jim smiled back, though a little uneasily, not just sure how to respond. Westbrook resumed his best host's tone. "I hope you didn't book a return flight yet. Vanessa and I would like the chance to show you two around a little."

"I guess we can just play it by ear," Jim answered, smiling as he put the suitcase in the trunk and Blair tossed the two travel bags in along side it.

"Great. We have reservations at the club tonight," he stated as the three men entered the car, Jim in the front with his new- found father and Blair in the back. "Unless you're too tired from your flight?"

"No, that sounds fine," Jim replied.

"If I had any doubts..." Westbrook was staring at his son with astonished eyes.

"Did you?" Jim asked.

"You always wonder...I mean, a situation like this..."

"You mean I could be a con artist? Hey, I'm a cop. It'd be the first thing to cross my mind if I were in your place."

"You look just like her. And your smile...I look at you and I can see Amanda."

"I guess this kind of explains why I didn't look like the Ellison side of the family too much."

"This must have been a shock...especially right after your...after Ellison's death."

"Yes, it was."

"Looks like you'll have to pull out your badge to get me off the hook if I don't get moving." Westbrook started the car, noticing a parking patrol vehicle approaching.

The Westbrook house was a sprawling, one-floor contemporary house that was highlighted by several walls of windows throughout the living areas.

"We're right on the golf course. Right through the trees." Westbrook pulled the car up to the garage, but stayed in the driveway, preferring to usher his guests in through the main entrance. A woman of medium height and a slightly plump build stood in the front door. She was dressed in a matching shorts and blouse outfit in a colorful tropical print.

"You have to be Jim," she said as Jim approached the front door next to Westbrook, carrying their suitcase while Blair pulled up the rear with the travel bags.

"Mrs. Westbrook," Jim said, smiling and offering his free hand.

"Good heavens! Vanessa, Jim. And this is Blair, right?" she continued in her same pleasant tone, shaking hands with him as soon as he had followed Jim into the foyer and set down one of the travel bags. "You two must be exhausted from your flight. I'll show you to your room."

Blair was just as happy to see a respite in sight. He was plane-weary and despite the kindness underlying it, even he wasn't perky enough to handle Vanessa's bubbly demeanor until he'd had time to use the bathroom and splash a little cold water in his face. Still, he greatly admired her ability to accept her husband's son by another woman and that son's male lover as if she were just entertaining any other pair of visiting relatives.

"I understand we have dinner plans?" Jim spoke up, keeping up the conversation.

"Yes. Thorne made reservations at the club. Here we are," she stopped at the end of the hall and motioned them through the door into a large, sunny bedroom with a king-sized bed and its own adjoining bath.

"You really have a beautiful home here, Mrs. Westbrook."

"Blair, don't you start. It's Vanessa. And thank you. We'll leave you two to freshen up a bit. Our dinner reservations are at seven, and I thought we could have a little wine and cheese here first, and have a chance to visit."

"Sounds great," Jim replied.

"All right then. Just feel free to join us in the living room whenever you like."

"Is there anything you guys need right away?" Westbrook asked.

"No, we're fine. Thanks." Jim waved them off down the hall and then closed the door behind him. "Alone at last." He crossed the room in a couple of long-legged strides and nuzzled Blair's neck from behind. "I want you," he growled into Blair's ear.

"That's a really cool idea, Jim. We can scream and bounce the bed the first ten minutes in their house."

"I can keep my mouth shut as long as there's something worthwhile in it."

"Just cool it, okay? I need the john." Blair wriggled out of his lover's hold and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Staring at the face in the mirror, he didn't know why he'd cut Jim off that way. The prospect of a little hushed and giggly lovemaking right down the hall from two virtual strangers should have been a sexy thought.

Jim was unpacking their suitcase when Blair came out of the bathroom.

"Sorry I snapped at you."

"Hey, if you're not in the mood, all you have to do is let me know, Chief. You know that."

"I'm allowed to change my mind though, right?"

"Absolutely." Jim turned around smiling, but was shocked by what he saw. Blair was standing in the bathroom doorway, stark naked.

"You just gonna stand there, big guy?" Blair walked over to the bed, tossed the spread back and stretched out on the blanket, his erection already at half-mast. Jim responded by hastily shedding his own clothes and pouncing on his lover.

The couple that joined Vanessa and Thorne Westbrook for wine and cheese were considerably more relaxed, a bit flushed and somewhat uneasy, wondering if one of Blair's unstifled moans of delight as Jim sucked him to a momentous climax had gone unnoticed. Blair had resorted to stuffing one of Jim's clean socks from the upturned suitcase in the larger man's mouth while he was sliding in and out of Blair's hot, tight channel. Sandburg was still priding himself on having the presence of mind to put his robe under his butt before Jim had entered him. No point in having to explain spattered blankets to the Westbrooks on the first night.

Their conversation was pleasant, if superficial, while they sipped white wine and nibbled cheese and crackers. As they rode to the nearby Country Club, Vanessa pointed out the homes of a few of their friends and chattered away about what a nice change in climate Palm Beach was compared to Cascade.

Beginning their assault on monstrous shrimp cocktails, Thorne turned his attention to drawing Blair out of the uncharacteristic silence that had settled over him. Jim had chalked it up to his lover stepping back to let him get to know his father better. Little did he know how uneasy Blair truly felt as he sat there figeting with his shrimp.

"Jim mentioned that you were an author. What type of books do you write?"

"Textbooks, mostly. Study guides...and I just signed a book deal to write three more textbooks and then they'll let me write something less technical and publish it. I'm thinking of a travel journal of some sort."

"Blair's been everywhere--twice. Right, Chief?"

"I've been to a lot of exotic, unusual places. When I was doing my college coursework in anthropology, I did a lot of field research."

"There's a marvelous exhibit at the museum right now--an Egyptian exhibit, I think." Vanessa seemed delighted to have found this potentially interesting activity for Blair. He refrained from telling her he'd seen the same exhibit in Cascade--twice. And archaeology wasn't even his specialty. If he could get Vanessa to go with him, it would give Jim some time to spend one-on-one with his father.

"I'd love to see it. Any chance you're interested in going to something like that? I know I can't drag Jim. I already made him go once back home."

"Oh, you've seen it?" She sounded disappointed.

"Yes, but it was a large exhibit. To really have a chance to look something like that over, you need to go a couple of times."

"Well, that would give me a chance to treat Jim here to a round of golf. You golf, Jim?"

"I have, but I don't very often. I'm afraid I'm not too gifted in that department."

"He never gets any time off. Did you ever actually use that new set of clubs you got--what, four years ago now?"

"I seem to remember someone taking me to a monastery for my vacation, and seeing as they didn't have a course on the grounds--"

"A monastery?" Vanessa queried, eyebrows raised.

All paused while the remains of the shrimp were removed and salads served. Wine and water glasses were filled and the waiter disappeared as discreetly as he had arrived.

"It's a long story. I just thought Jim could use some peace and quiet--a little comtemplation is a good stress reducer. We ended up in the middle of a case, so it wasn't much of a break."

"Needless to say, I didn't use the clubs too much."

"You haven't had a vacation since then?" Thorne asked, poking his salad ruthlessly with his fork.

"Blair and I have gone camping and fishing a few times. And we did go to Chicago for Christmas last year--but those aren't exactly golf-friendly vacations."

"I hope you stayed at Water Tower Place," Vanessa enthused. "It's magnificent at Christmas!"

"Jim insisted. It was really beautiful. Expensive, too," Blair shot a lovingly admonishing look at Jim.

"It was worth it," he responded, remembering how much fun he'd had just watching Blair's face as he took in the sights. Blair had seen some of the most amazing sights in the world, but he hadn't seen a lot of sparkle and glitz in his life. Though Jim was far from wealthy at the time, his background had given him a taste for the finer things in life, and he loved spoiling Blair rotten every now and then for no good reason.

"It's settled then. Blair and I will take in the exhibit and you two can hit the links tomorrow."

"You mentioned on the phone that you had worked with criminals?" Jim probed Thorne.

"Yes. I retired three years ago, and now I'm only treating sexually frustrated housewives."

"Thorne, really!" Vanessa chided, blushing and smiling as she shook her head.

"Your last name is very familiar. Did you practice in Cascade?"

"I was on staff at the Cascade Mental Health Facility for many years, but then I got the Chief of Staff position at Watsonville Mental Hospital just outside L.A. and--"

"Watsonville?" Jim asked, shocked. "Were you Chief of Staff while David Lash was a patient there?"

"Yes. Your case, I believe? I approved the release of his records when the police requested them. That was one seriously disturbed individual."

"That's a nice PC term for pscyho." Blair shivered a little and gulped some wine.

"'Psycho' isn't exactly accepted lingo for the Chief of Staff of a mental hospital, Blair," Thorne Westbrook said, smiling slightly.

"I recall hearing that he'd abducted a police observer--was that you?" Vanessa asked Blair.

"I had that pleasure, yeah." He tried to smile a little.

"You're entitled to be politically incorrect, in that case," Thorne stated, shaking his head. "He was not only insane...but it was disturbing to spend time with him. I can only imagine what that would be like outside of a controlled, clinical setting--"

"Excuse me." Blair slid his chair back and rose, heading purposefully in the direction he'd seen Vanessa take to go to the restroom after they'd arrived.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to upset him that way."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Talking about Lash just gets him a little skittish even now. I'll just make sure he's okay."

Jim found his lover in the men's room, which was as posh as most people's living rooms. Blair was sitting on a couch, wiping at his face with a paper towel.

"You okay, sweetheart?" A quick sentinel sweep of the area had told Jim they were alone. He stood beside the couch, watching Blair. He looked pale, and very shaky.

"It's not Lash, Jim. It's something else. I don't know what it is but I haven't been comfortable since we got here."

"Do you feel sick?" Jim felt his forehead.

"Nothing like that. I can't explain it. I'm just...uneasy."

"Thorne and Vanessa are really knocking themselves out to treat us right, Chief. I don't think they're exactly ready to double at the drive-in with us, but they've accepted things pretty well."

"I told you I didn't know what it was, and I don't. I can't explain it. I just want to go home."

"We just got here, baby." Jim sat down next to him and took his hand. It was cold and clammy with sweat. He finally raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it briefly. "If you want to go home, we're outta there tonight. Nothing's worth you getting this riled up."

"You'd really do that?"

"In a heartbeat."

"Nah. I'll be okay. Maybe I'm just tired."

"You're sure you're not feeling sick at all?"

"Positive. Maybe it's just jitters at meeting the in-laws," Blair tried a smile, and it almost worked. Jim smiled back and squeezed his hand.

"Think you could handle going back out there?"

"Yeah."

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully. Thorne avoided the topic of deranged criminals, and Blair described one of his early expeditions, much to Vanessa's delight. She had an obvious interest in strange stories of other cultures, making her an excellent conversational companion for Blair. Thorne started discussing horses and racing with Jim, and they spent a while on the amusing story of Little Stogie's brief career.

"Feeling okay?" Jim asked Blair as the younger man got into his side of the bed and turned off the bedside lamp.

"For the 80th time, Jim, I'm fine."

"Sorry. Guess I'm hovering again."

"That's okay. You're sexy when you hover."

"According to you, I'm sexy when I blow my nose, Chief."

"Not really," Blair retorted, laughing a little.

"Tired?" Jim asked, finding Blair's hand under the covers. They were still just lying side by side, staring at the ceiling.

"Kind of. If you wanna drive, I'm game." Blair squeezed Jim's hand as the other man deciphered the real message in that statement: I'd really just like to roll over and go to sleep, but if you have a raging hard-on, I'll roll over anyway and you can take care of it and then I can go to sleep.

"It can wait until we're both awake to enjoy the ride." Jim curled around his lover, spoon-style, as the smaller man found his position to sleep. "You can say no to me, sweetheart. You know that."

"I know. It's not really a 'no'. Just a blank. I'm just kind of tired and...not in the mood, I guess."

"Sure you're not sick?" Jim rubbed his lover's stomach gently, forestalling Blair's impending angry outburst at another inquiry about his health. He loved the soothing, slightly stirring feeling of Jim's hand making slow circles over his tense muscles.

"I'm sure. Lovesick, maybe."

"Sweet-talker." Jim kissed the back of Blair's head and settled down himself to go to sleep. "Love you."

"Love you too." Blair relaxed finally, feeling safe tucked in those big arms. Safe? Since when should I worry about feeling safe in Palm Beach when I usually feel safe in Cascade, with three times the crime rate?

Jim selected a five-iron from the rented clubs and lined up his shot. It was hard to concentrate on the game at all. Blair had been so...so...not Blair since they'd arrived. Jim's morning kissing and nibbling had been received warmly but without passion. Getting horny in your old age, Ellison. Can't make it 24 hours without any. Get a grip.

He made an acceptable shot and then stood aside for Thorne to make his attempt. It was superior to Jim's, which wasn't surprising. The golf course was Thorne's home away from home.

"Quite a swing you've got there," Jim complimented, getting in the passenger side of the cart.

"Thanks. I've had a lot of time to polish it since I retired." He brought the cart to a stop but made no move to get out. "Jim, we haven't exactly discussed this situation..."

"I don't know what to say," Jim replied honestly. "I'm glad to have a chance to meet you and get to know you. But I don't know what to say about my mother or the past...or any of it."

"I never stopped loving Amanda. I mean never. I was still trying to talk her into running away with me long after you'd been born. I wanted my family. And Ellison didn't deserve her."

"They seemed happy enough. He certainly mourned her after she died."

"Never remarried I understand."

"Nope."

"Even after I married Vanessa--and she's been a wonderful life partner--I never felt about anyone the way I did about Amanda. She was like that. She didn't just steal your heart. She owned your soul." Thorne suddenly looked old, the sun catching the lines on his tanned face. Old, and bitter. The overtone of anger at Amanda didn't set well with her son.

"I'm sure my mother had a lot of social and moral pressures on her to make the decision she made."

"She could never let go of that--her social status. She was a real climber. Admitting to our affair certainly would have put her at the bottom of the guest lists among the rich and powerful."

"I think that's a bit of an oversimplification of a very complex issue."

"Was Ellison a decent father at least?"

"I didn't want for anything. We locked horns frequently. But that happens."

"I told Amanda if she stayed with him, she'd regret it."

"Meaning what?" Jim prodded, annoyed. Thorne's tone was not a pleasant one. The older man paused a long time before answering.

"Meaning he would make her life miserable. He was too uptight, conventional. Amanda was passionate, lively--I just knew she was making a mistake, that's all."

"I think she did what she thought was best. It couldn't have been easy for her either."

"She managed to keep my son." Thorne was silent a moment. "Vanessa couldn't have children. We tried...everything."

"I'm sorry. That must have been very painful--to know you had a child but not to be involved at all."

"Amanda drew the lines very clearly. If I hovered around you, it would be obvious to everyone what had happened. She told me she wouldn't see me again, and that she expected me to keep my distance from the family."

"And you complied?"

"Eventually. Then there was the accident, which made the whole issue a moot point. I wasn't about to uproot a little kid the age you were then and subject you to all the turmoil of a custody battle. I felt it best to take Amanda's advice and stay away." Thorne got out of the cart and went around the back, finding his putter in the large golf bag. Jim wondered if Blair was having as lousy a time as he was.

Blair poked disinterestedly at the salad in front of him. Vanessa had raved non-stop about this restaurant's wonderful garden salads and their "to die for" shrimp vinaigrette dressing. Blair had made all the required affirmative responses to her lunch plans. He fought viewing this as being a "girls' day out" in Thorne's mind. Jim was out on the golf course while he was sitting here in a restaurant with a horrible preponderance of white in its decor, eating an overpriced salad with a room full of aging socialites.

"The exhibit was fascinating," Vanessa enthused. "Especially with my own personal expert to explain everything to me."

"Thanks for calling me an expert. Archaeology isn't really my primary field, but I dabble in it a little."

"It's chilling to think of someone viewing your corpse thousands of years after your death, isn't it?"

"Maybe it's almost reassuring. I mean, I wouldn't mind being remembered three thousand years from now."

"I hadn't thought of that." She sipped her mineral water and regarded Blair with a look of concern. "I hope Thorne didn't upset you with his comments about that murderer."

"What?" Blair had been genuinely lost in thought, counting the number of croutons still left as he pondered what Jim and Thorne might be talking about. "No, no--I'm fine. It was a long time ago. It just threw me when he started talking about Lash...what he was like," Blair concluded, shuddering a little. Then he smiled again. "I think it was a little too much wine on an empty stomach and too much time in an airplane."

"You don't like flying?"

"I can take it in small doses. I don't really mind it. I was just tired last night."

"Blair, could I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure. You can ask," he added with an impish grin. She smiled in return and seemed to relax at his humor.

"Were you...before you were with Jim..."

"Was I gay?"

"It's horrible of me to ask, I know. It's just, I've never known...a..."

"Gay person?"

"Right." She took another nervous sip of water, then figeted with the napkin in her lap.

"I never felt a strong physical attraction to a man before Jim, no." Blair declined to discuss his prior virginity. That was between his lover and himself. No one else. "It didn't really start out as lust anyway." He noticed her blush. "How frank do you want me to be?"

"I'd like to know...but nothing...you know..."

"No gory details?" Blair asked, smiling. She nodded and chuckled a little. "Jim and I were best friends first, then more like family to each other...and it just...happened. Nothing rapid or wild or heat of the moment. Jim told me he had been in love with me for a while before he made a move about it. I was going through a few rough times with my career, and Jim didn't want to add to it by putting me through an emotional wringer too. So he waited until I got back on track. You know, in the time he was waiting, he was so good to me. He supported me, helped me get my first book together...I guess just loving him turned into being in love with him."

"So it was all about love?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I ended up wanting the physical and romantic side of the relationship because Jim is my favorite person, and the one I love most in the world, and somewhere along the line I guess I realized I didn't want to share him with someone else. And when he told me how he felt...I was...beyond happy." Blair was smiling now, genuinely happy for the first time since their arrival in Palm Beach.

"I've never been able to imagine...same sex partnerships."

"You mean the physical end of things gives you the crawlies when you think about it?"

"Well, yes." She laughed a little again. "My God, you're so easy to talk to, it's dangerous. And I'm used to being on guard, living with a psychologist."

"You mean I could get you to reveal all your deep, dark secrets?"

"One or two, yes. You just did. Do you know how absolutely socially incorrect I was in asking you any of this?"

"I figure if people don't ask, they don't learn. And if someone who doesn't know much about same sex relationships and isn't in one themselves and views it with some distaste...if they never meet anyone they can talk to freely and ask some questions... that's why prejudices and stereotypes aren't broken down more often. Very few people are brave enough to confront their preconceived notions and ask questions." Blair smiled and rolled his eyes. "The next sound you hear will be Blair Sandburg, climbing down off his soapbox."

"You're right though. Seeing you and Jim together, and getting to know you better...it's opened my mind a bit. I still can't say it doesn't seem...unnatural to me, but I'm getting more comfortable with the idea."

"I'm glad. I appreciate your honesty, Vanessa. I really mean that. It's a big stress-reliever to have all your cards on the table with someone."

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" She released a sigh with her smile.

"It was pretty broad-minded of you to okay our visit."

"You mean because of the two of you being a couple?"

"Yeah, there's that," Blair said, smiling. "I was thinking more of Jim being your husband's son with another woman."

"Amanda Holden was out of the picture before I got serious with Thorne. We knew each other casually, but we weren't even dating yet. I do acknowledge that I was his second choice."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, even though we weren't together, I knew him and his family, and we had a lot of mutual friends. I heard a lot of rumors that he was still carrying the torch for her after she got married. She met James Ellison while Thorne was studying at Oxford. By the time he got home, she was married. They had a very brief affair--according to Thorne, it was only a couple of...meetings. Then Amanda found out she was pregnant and panicked. She broke it off with him, and told him she didn't want to see him again."

"That must have been painful for him."

"Thorne is used to getting what he wants, so I reckon Amanda was the first person in his life to teach him the meaning of the word 'no'. He doesn't give up easily when he wants something."

Blair didn't know why that statement gave him chills.

"Would you mind pulling over up here?" Jim asked Thorne as the big car made its way back toward the house. Their golf outing and lunch had been strained but sociable. Jim wondered if he was just catching the heebie jeebies from Blair.

"Right here?" Thorne asked as he pulled up to the curb in a small business district, a few doors past a jewelry shop.

"Yeah. Do you mind waiting a moment? I think I almost put myself in the doghouse here."

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight's our anniversary. I've been so preoccupied lately, I completely forgot it until now." Jim reached for the door handle, then paused, noticing the stony silence. "If you don't want to wait, I can probably catch a cab back to the house," he offered, knowing that wasn't the problem.

"No. That's fine. Go take care of your business." Thorne said it as if Jim were suggesting something repulsive instead of thoughtful.

"I won't be long." Jim wasn't about to make an issue of it then. He honestly wanted to find something special for Blair, and he didn't want to stalk into the store in a funk of anger when he did it.

"May I help you?" The girl behind the counter had only let Jim flounder a few moments, noticing that he seemed a bit baffled as he moved from display to display.

"I need an anniversary present," he blurted.

"How long have you been married?" she asked, apparently trying to ease his tension with a little friendly chatter.

"Two years."

"Well, that doesn't give us a lot of cliched tradition to work with, but I'm sure we can find something special," she responded, smiling. She was a pretty girl with blonde hair French-braided neatly. Her own tasteful and expensive jewelry made her something of a walking display herself, dressed in a tailored pink business suit.

"Yeah, I need something really special...but nothing too traditional. He's not too conventional," Jim said with a fond smile, looking in a case displaying expensive men's rings. Blair would never go for one of those.

"You're looking for something in men's jewelry?" she asked, trying to keep her surprised tone conversational.

"I don't think he'd agree to a cocktail ring, no," Jim replied, laughing a little.

"Does he wear much jewelry?"

"Not really. He wears his wedding band and some other stuff--leather corded kind of stuff."

"You'll want to avoid anything flashy, then." She seemed almost as puzzled as Jim was for a while, as she joined him in perusing the counters, only from the other side. "What about cuff links? Does he dress up often?"

"Not that much. We have a pretty casual lifestyle. I'd like something I could get engraved."

"That leaves out earrings. I was thinking maybe a small diamond stud--does he wear an earring at all?"

"Yeah, but you're right. Can't engrave that."

"How about some type of pendant? Maybe with a chain long enough that he could wear it under his shirt if he isn't fond of showy jewelry."

"That's possible. What've you got?"

"These are all our men's pendants right here," she led him to a large display case. He scanned the numerous sparkling gold charms, none of which seemed just right. Then he saw it.

"That one," he said, pointing to a small gold lighthouse. What more perfect symbol for his guide--and for the light of his life?

"I'm afraid we can't engrave anything on that. There isn't enough of a surface on the back." She took it out, and Jim looked it over carefully. It was small, but sturdy--like Blair. "It's solid 24 karat gold. Lovely choice."

"I'll take it. I need a chain." Jim followed her to the appropriate counter, delighted with his choice.