FAMILY SKELETONS

Part Three

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Jim was never so relieved to see a driveway in his life as he was to see the one in front of the Westbrook residence. What had been social small talk had degenerated to forced social amenities. Jim knew he wasn't cutting the older man any slack at all regarding his attitudes toward Jim's relationship with Blair. That was one area of his life, however, that was 100% non-negotiable. Anyone who couldn't accept Blair, and deal with their relationship, had no place in Jim's life.

He'd lost quite a few friends at the PD in the last two years, but he'd kept the ones that mattered to him. Very few of his colleagues had ever openly harassed Blair in any way, and those who had found themselves either artfully put down by one of Blair's quick retorts, shoved against a wall and held a couple inches off the ground by one irate detective or reprimanded by Simon for spending far too much time in the ladies' coffee klatch gossiping and far too little time solving their cases. Things had settled down fairly quickly.

"Looks like Vanessa and Blair made it home before we did," Thorne commented, trying a smile. Jim didn't keep him squirming. After all, the Westbrooks had opened their home and even taken Blair and Jim to their Country Club for dinner. He wasn't thrilled with the undercurrent of disapproval he'd picked up on, but maybe the man needed time to adjust.

"Blair probably told Vanessa a lot more about those mummies than she ever wanted to know."

"I'm sure she had fun. She's very interested in things like that." Thorne turned off the car and both men got out and headed toward the house.

As soon as the front door was opened, Blair's animated voice and pursuant laughter from Vanessa floated to their ears.

"Mind if we join the party?" Thorne asked as they entered the living room, where Vanessa was seated on one end of the couch, turned sideways to face Blair, who was just finishing one of his elaborate tales of mingling with the natives in some remote locale. "Telling her about the headhunters, Chief?" Jim walked over to Blair and patted his back, kissing the top of his head before moving to sit in a nearby chair.

"Headhunters?!" Vanessa looked back at Blair, mesmerized.

"We were kind of working our way up to that one, Jim."

"Don't let us interrupt."

"Actually, it's good you did." Vanessa turned to Thorne. "Honey, I completely forgot we were supposed to have dinner with the Carsons tonight."

"Didn't you cancel?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea. You did want Bill to consider going in on that investment deal with you, and I've been owing Arlene lunch for weeks."

"Listen, we'll be fine if you two want to go ahead," Jim offered.

"There are steaks in the refrigerator, and wine."

"Van, I don't think we should--"

"I really think we should go," Vanessa insisted. "I'm sure Jim and Blair would like a little time to relax. We've kept them on the move since they arrived last night."

"If you two are sure you don't mind..." Thorne looked extremely uncomfortable with the situation, seeming to feel like he was seriously neglecting his hosting duties.

"We'll just grab a bite to eat and watch a little TV. No problem," Blair confirmed.

"All right then. I really am sorry about this," Thorne directed at Jim.

"Don't worry about it. We'll get by just fine. Besides, this was such short notice for you two--we didn't expect you to have clear calendars."

"Well, I guess we should get ready then. What time are we meeting them?" Thorne stood up and looked over at Vanessa, who was doing the same.

"Six, for cocktails at their place."

"Better get moving." He started toward the back of the house where their bedroom was located. To Jim's and Blair's delight, it was at the opposite end of the house from the guest room.

"Guess it's just you and me, baby." Jim pounced on Blair as soon as the Westbrooks were out of the driveway and heading down the road. Smothering his lover with his own larger body, he pinned him to the soft cushions of the ecru sofa and showered his face with kisses.

"This wasn't an accident, big guy," Blair finally gasped, when his mouth was released to allow him to draw oxygen.

"What?"

"Happy anniversary, lover. Vanessa is one hell of an accomplice."

"Happy anniversary, sweetheart. I love you." He covered Blair's mouth with his own again, tongues dueling passionately with one another.

"I really want you, man. How about moving this to the bedroom?"

"What about dinner?" Jim was already unbuttoning Blair's shirt, pushing aside the fabric to run his hands over the soft mat of hair there.

"What about it?" Blair was pulling Jim's golf shirt out of the waistband of his shorts.

"Let's shower first, huh?" Jim stood up and pulled Blair to his unsteady feet.

"Anything as long as we're naked and together."

"The only way to spend an anniversary, baby."

Both men made it a point not to sate their over-heating groins in the shower. They'd washed each other, stroked, petted and fondled, kissing under the spray of water until it began to cool.

Jim yanked the bedspread and the bedding back with one fierce thrust, picking Blair up and tossing him into the middle of the mattress, pouncing on him as he began to giggle a little.

Blair's lips were immediately soft and responsive, his brief smile at being tossed on the bed forgotten in the renewed heat of passion. He managed to get a hand between them, finding a pert little nub on Jim's chest and tweaking it mercilessly. He'd get his tongue there eventually. He wanted his tongue everywhere on that treasured body at least once before tonight's lovemaking was over. And he hoped that wouldn't be anytime soon.

Jim was in the driver's seat. Blair could feel the sense of purpose in the way his lover was using his superior size and strength to very gently take the lead and make love to Blair.

"Mmmmm," Blair moaned as Jim fastened his mouth on a nipple. "Oh, man...yeahhhhh..." he panted, letting himself relax back into the mattress, his arms only lightly resting on Jim's now. If Jim wanted to lick, kiss, nip and nuzzle his body, Blair was perfectly happy to cooperate.

The evil tongue was down to his navel now, swirling into the little valley and then, almost sadistically, following a path up his side instead of down to his aching arousal. He squirmed and spread his legs as wide as he could, hoping Jim would take the bait.

"Patience, baby. I'll get there...eventually." Jim looked up at him with an evil grin on his face.

"Arghh!" Blair let his head flop back on the bed and soaked up the overload of sensation coursing through the rest of his body. If his cock had to wait, so be it. The feeling of Jim's lips and tongue paying homage to every inch of his torso was not something Blair wanted to miss out on by spending all his time pouting over his ignored arousal.

Without warning, Jim slid down and took Blair's straining erection into his mouth. Blair's eyelids fluttered and then closed, all of his attention focused on the almost unbearable pleasure. Large hands clenched his buttocks, stilling slightly the involuntary thrusts that pushed him deeper into Jim's throat. One of those evil fingers found its way to his center, stroking the puckered entrance and pushing at it just a little.

"Jim...Oh, man...want you..." he gasped, trying to impale himelf on the elusive, teasing digit. The warm suction of Jim's mouth was suddenly gone, and Blair saw his lover smile up at him from between his raised knees.

"Turn over on your side, baby."

Blair returned the smile, despite his frenzied state. The first time Jim had taken him, it had been in this position, spooned together, on their sides. On their first, and now second, anniversaries, they re-enacted it exactly the way it had been then. The first year Jim had guided their lovemaking in that direction, he'd had to wait to finish because the romance of the gesture had moved Blair to tears.

Blair shifted on his side and felt the larger body move about a bit behind him, locating the lube in the drawer of the bedside table, and then the warmth was there, surrounding and enfolding him in those big arms. Jim stayed still a moment, kissing Blair's shoulder and nuzzling the downy back of his neck.

Jim took his time preparing Blair, much the same as he had their very first time. He smiled as he listened to the beloved heartbeat registering its arousal, but noted the absence of fear. The first time they'd done this, two years ago, Blair had been understandably afraid. Willing, eager and passionate, but still scared. Now, he was relaxing around Jim's lubed fingers. He stiffened and let out a little wail when a long finger brushed over his prostate.

"Easy, sweetheart. It's coming." Jim withdrew his fingers and coating his shaft with the KY, positioned himself at Blair's opening. "I love you, my heart. Now and forever." With that, he began the slow, steady slide into Blair's body. He heard the little grunt as Blair consciously relaxed and breathed deeply, willing his body to adjust to its large visitor.

Blair almost never had to tell Jim when to move. A combination of knowing Blair's body so well, and his sentinel abilities gave Jim all the signals he needed to make love to Blair without rushing him or hurting him.

They moved together in a gentle, steady rhythm until a deep stroke caught the little nub inside of Blair again, and he cried out, his muscles gripping Jim with frantic spasms as Jim pumped at Blair's erection until he bathed Jim's hand and the bed with his raging orgasm. Jim was simulatneously filling Blair with his own juices, feeling consciousness coming back as the last shudders faded, and he snuggled against Blair, his sweaty chest to the other's sweaty back. All the better to seal us completely together, Jim thought contentedly.

Blair found Jim's hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the back, the fingers and the palm, tasting himself there. He held the hand against his face.

"Love you so much. I'm so glad you love me."

"I'm so glad you picked me out to spend your life with. Do you understand even half of what you mean to me, sweetheart?" He kissed Blair's shoulder, then trailed his lips up to the soft skin of his neck.

"If it's like I feel about you, it's kind of scary sometimes, isn't it? Like it's too big."

"Beyond words."

"Yeah," Blair responded, smiling. Jim's stomach growled. Blair laughed out loud. "Now that's really sexy, Jim."

"Sorry, lover." Jim was laughing a little himself as he eased out of Blair, then pulled him more tightly against him, as if to make up for the lost connection.

"Guess we should've had dinner first, huh?"

"I was so hot for you, I swear to God I was ready to rip your pants off right there on the living room floor--whether Thorne and Vanessa left or not."

"I think that would definitely fall into the category of stuff Vanessa really didn't want to know about." Blair was laughing again, thinking about Vanessa's curiosity about their male-male relationship, and how that curiosity ended at the "gory details".

"Everything go okay with her today?" Jim let his eyes drift shut, lulled by Blair's heartbeat and the warmth of the beloved body nestled against him.

"Yeah, fine. Great in fact. I mean, seeing the same mummies for the third time got old real fast, but we had a nice talk at lunch. She was curious about us...about same sex couples."

"You talked about that?" That concept snapped Jim's eyes open again.

"She was really cool about it. She was curious, wanted to know how we ended up together, whether I was gay before. I really had a good visit with her. She seemed to want to learn more about it, open her mind."

"That's great, Chief." Jim stroked Blair's chest, found a nipple and fingered it.

"Don't do that if you wanna eat anytime soon, big guy." Blair captured the offending hand and kissed it.

"You feel okay about things now, baby? You've been kind of... out of it since we got here."

"I know. Yes and no. I don't think your father likes me very well."

"What makes you say that?"

"Last night, at dinner, when he went off about Lash?"

"I don't think he was really thinking about how it might upset--"

"I think he was. Were you watching him while he was talking about Lash?" Blair shivered a little in Jim's arms.

"No."

"He looked like...he was..."

"What, sweetheart? You can say it." Jim enclosed Blair more fully with his larger body, resting his head against his lover's. "Tell me."

"It was like he was trying to psyche me out. Upset me. How's that for paranoia?" Blair sighed. "It was just something in his eyes, the way he looked at me. Like he was smiling at me but wanted me to disappear."

"I can't believe he'd really want to upset you. He knows how I feel about you."

"That doesn't mean he's thrilled about it."

"I know. To be honest, I don't think he is."

"Vanessa said he isn't used to not getting what he wants. She also said she thought Amanda was the first person who said 'no' to him. I think he wants me gone. I don't know why. I just feel that way. And I don't know why that scares me."

"Scares you? You don't think anything he'd think or feel about us would have any effect on me, do you?"

"It isn't that." Blair stroked one of the large forearms fastened across his body. "I know how you feel. I trust you, and I trust our love. It's just...I can't put my finger on it. I've felt...jumpy since we got here, and him not liking me just...scares me for some reason." Blair let out a shaky sigh. "I swore I wasn't going to lay this on you. I want you guys to get along. To have a relationship. And part of me doesn't. Part of me is screaming to get you out of here. I don't know why."

"Hey, baby, you're shaking. Come on, turn over. Come here." Jim loosened his grip as Blair turned over, then pulled the smaller body into his arms, stroking up an down his lover's back. "We'll get out of here tomorrow."

"No."

"I don't want you feeling nervous or uneasy. You're more imporant to me than anyone or anything. You know that."

"I don't want you to lose out on another dad. Jim, whatever's wrong with me...I don't know why I feel the way I do. But it's my hang-up. And I know you love me and I'm not worried Thorne's gonna change that."

"Good. But if you know that, why...?"

"Maybe I'm just frazzled. A little burned out. That last book project was a real bitch. It's probably not Thorne at all. I always get a little crabby and out of it when I'm worn out."

"If he does, or says, anything at all to make you feel uneasy or insulted or anything, you tell me right away--hear me?"

"Yeah. I will. I tell you everything."

"Likewise."

"I've never been totally honest with anybody before you."

"Honesty comes from trust. And it takes time and a lot of good experiences to build trust. I know you've had a lot of temporary relationships, sweetheart. I'm just glad you know this isn't one of them."

"I know." Blair rested there in the secure embrace until he heard Jim's stomach rumble again. "He's getting seriously pissed, Jim. I think we better go eat."

"Don't want to let go of you." He kissed Blair's forehead, then found his lips and took his time exploring the warm, receptive mouth. "Okay. Time to eat--food this time."

Jim grilled the steaks while Blair put his usual creative flourish on a tossed salad. Scraping the last of the vegetables off the cutting board into the bowl, Blair looked out the kitchen window at Jim. He was standing out there on the deck, turning the steaks on the grill, clad in a tank shirt and shorts. Blair watched the man he loved for a few moments, just enjoying watching the exquisitely sculpted body performing the simple task of barbecuing. There was nothing even slightly weak about Jim. Why this sudden need to protect him? To watch over him? Why in hell am I seeing everything as a threat to him? Most of all, why am I trying so hard to be the perfect guest here so he can make friends with his dad and at the same time I want to pull him as far as possible away from Thorne Westbrook? Why can't I shake the chill out of my...out of my soul? Something's wrong...but what?

"That must be some masterpiece you've got going there, Chief." Jim's voice startled Blair out of his trance. He looked quickly down at the still-disheveled dish of veggies.

"Guess my mind wandered." He started tossing it in earnest now, mixing in some of the Italian dressing Vanessa had told him to try. It was some super-expensive stuff from a fancy Italian restaurant she favored.

"Thinking about later, maybe?" Deserting the steaks on the dinner table, Jim came up behind Blair, sliding his arms around his lover's waist.

"Come on, man, I'm gonna dump the whole bottle of this stuff in here." Blair really didn't mind the distraction, and Jim knew it. He lowered his head to nuzzle Blair's neck, then fastened his mouth on the soft throat, working on leaving a very prominent passion mark. "Hey, that's gonna show!"

"Yup. That's the plan."

"I can't wear a turtleneck in Palm Beach, man."

"Relax." Jim returned to the spot. When he finished, he whispered hotly in Blair's ear, "This'll match the ones I'm going to put on your ass after dinner." When he felt Blair arch at the comment and heard the salad utensils clatter on the cupboard as two hands came up to clutch at his arms, Jim chuckled wickedly. "Gotcha."

"Suppose you think you're the only one with plans for later?"

"You can't top the strip routine you did last year." Jim thought back of Blair's prolonged stripping to the tune of Rod Stewart's "Hot Legs". It had started out as a half-joke and become decidedly erotic very quickly.

"Oh really? And I didn't even plan that one. Imagine what I can do when I really put my mind to it."

"I hate to disappoint you, Darwin, but when you were gyrating around sliding your pants down, it wasn't your mind I was thinking about."

"If you don't want to get lubed with Italian dressing and fucked on Vanessa's kitchen floor, you better leave me alone," Blair growled.

"Promises, promises. Gutty little guy, aren't you?"

"No, I'm a hard little guy. And it's your fault."

"Guess I better take care of it then." Jim's hand shot quickly down the front of Blair's shorts and grasped the straining erection there, pumping it in earnest.

"Argh!" Blair threw his head back against Jim, arching into the touch. His legs were giving out beneath him. Jim lowered them both to the floor until Blair was sitting on his thighs, thrusting in time with Jim's strokes. Another large hand came around and cupped his balls, massaging them gently. "Ohhhh...man...I...use the dressing, man..."

"This isn't about me, sweetheart. This one's all yours. Just relax and enjoy it." Jim kissed Blair's hair, then his temple, his ear...anything he could reach and still keep up the stimulation that had Blair thrusting and moaning with pleasure in his lap.

"Want you...inside..." Blair gritted out, clumsily reaching for the bottle himself, wriggling away from Jim. In record time, he'd shoved his shorts down and after handing Jim the bottle, leaned forward on all fours. Jim worked quickly, as Blair didn't need much preparing for this union. He coated himself with the oily dressing, briefly acknowledging that this was a definite first in their sex life, then leaned over his lover and sheathed himself to the hilt.

For a fleeting moment, he pictured the scenario of Thorne and Vanessa coming home early, and somehow that made it more exciting. They rarely had that little edge of fear in their encounters, since most of them took place in the privacy of the loft or the sanctuary of a tent out in the middle of nowhere during a camping trip.

Blair's body was rocking with his thrusts, hair falling past his face, swinging back and forth. He felt the telltale clenching of Blair's internal muscles, and heard the cry as the hand he'd kept around Blair's erection was coated with his lover's seed. His own climax was close behind, and he had to make a conscious effort not to just fall forward and mash Blair on the linoleum under them.

"Oh, man...now that's an appetizer!" Blair panted, slumping on his side on the floor. Jim mirrored the position so they were facing each other.

"Well, it wasn't quite the romance I had in mind for our anniversary, but...wow." Jim chuckled a little as Blair grinned and blushed slightly. He started when Blair picked up his hand and took one greasy finger into his mouth, sucking it gently. Then he released it, licking his lips. He took on an expression of deep thought.

"Yeah, that dressing is definitely worth $25 a bottle," he commented as if he were seriously evaluating its quality. Jim burst out in full blown laughter.

After cleaning up the kitchen, they enjoyed a dinner of soggy salad and cold steaks, accompanied by the wine Vanessa had mentioned earlier. While Jim got started on the dishes, Blair found them some suitably romantic music on the stereo.

Relying only on faint light from the dining room and a little moonlight coming in the patio doors, they came together, swaying to the slow beat of the music.

"There's something I want to give you," Jim whispered in his lover's ear. The arms around his middle tightened.

"I already have everything...I have you."

"I wish I could say something that really would make you understand what it means to me to have you. There just aren't any words, sweetheart." He kissed Blair's hair. "But I still want to give you your present."

"Yours is in the bedroom," Blair replied softly.

"You mean I didn't open it early in the kitchen?"

"Pervert." Blair chuckled as he pulled away. "Let's kill the stereo and the lights and go to our room, huh?"

"Good idea." Jim took care of the stereo while Blair turned out the lights in the kitchen and dining room, and turned on a dim lamp in the living room for Thorne and Vanessa's return home.

Blair dug into the corner of his suitcase and retrieved a wrapped box that fit mostly in his hand, and appeared somewhat heavy.

Jim found the little velvet box where he had stashed it in the dresser drawer. The girl in the jewelry store had put the lighthouse on the gold chain and placed in in the small, blue velvet box and tied a gold mesh ribbon around it. He felt a bit guilty that Blair had obviously planned ahead for this, and now understood why he had insisted on making a trip back to the loft to "pick up the mail" before they went to Palm Beach.

They sat on the side of the bed, which they had taken a few moments to smooth up after their earlier lovemaking.

"Happy Anniversary, lover," Blair said, handing Jim the box.

"Happy Anniversary, baby." Jim held up the little box for Blair to take it.

"You go first. I've been dyin' for the last two months."

"You've had this for two months?" Jim asked, touched.

"I got the idea, and then I had to do some work to make it happen. Just open it, okay?" Blair said, smiling, but still impatient.

"Okay." Jim returned the smile and then tore off the gold matte wrapping paper, finding a stiff white box with a cover inside. He took off the cover, and then moved aside the white tissue paper obscuring the item inside. He lifted it out, speechless. A heavy, sleek black panther, its legs positioned as if it were walking slowly and stealthily, rested in his palm. the animal's breathtaking blue eyes caught the dim lights of the bedroom.

"His eyes are blue topaz," Blair volunteered. "He's made of onyx."

"It's the most beautiful thing..." Jim was at a loss for words. The small statue was nothing short of stunning.

"You like it?" Blair asked, smiling hopefully.

"Like it? Blair, it's...incredible. Beautiful. But how...I mean, this had to cost you a fortune," Jim finally said, giving in to expressing his real concern.

"I got an advance on the book deal. Couldn't think of anything better to do with it than spoil you a little."

"But that was so much--"

"Jim, I haven't wanted for anything since I moved in with you over four years ago. What is money to me anyway? If I have some, and I can use it to make you happy somehow, then I'm happy. You never failed to take care of me even when we weren't lovers. If I was short on money, I never had to worry about it. And when everything crashed...you shared everything you had with me. I just wanted you to have something really special. One of a kind--like you, lover." Blair reached up and stroked Jim's face. Jim caught the hand and kissed it.

"I love it. Thank you, sweetheart." He pulled Blair into a bear hug--or as Blair had once jokingly called it, a "Blair hug". When he released the smaller man from his arms, he set the panther on the night stand and took a moment to once again admire the shiny black finish and the sparkling blue eyes.

"My turn?" Blair asked hopefully.

"Definitely." Jim smiled as he waited for Blair's reaction. The other man took his time opening the small jewelry box, and Jim was rewarded with the slight catch in his lover's breath when he saw the little gold lighthouse.

"It's beautiful." He stroked it lightly with a single finger.

"You know what lighthouses are, baby. They're guides, and their light cuts through all the fog and the darkness, so the ships can find their way home. That, my love, is what you do for me. You're my guide and the light of my life." Jim watched with a fond smile as Blair's chin quivered a little, and then he began to cry in earnest.

"That's so...that's the most beautiful thing...you ever...said to me." Blair wrapped his arms around his lover and held on tightly.

"I love you so much. I want you to always remember how much." Jim pulled Blair close, lifting him onto his lap

"I'm sorry." Blair straightened a little so they could look at each other. Before he could reach up to wipe at his eyes, Jim did it for him with gentle fingers, then kissed each eyelid softly.

"Don't be sorry." Jim smiled. "I love how sensitive you are. Just one of the ten million things I love about you."

"Put it on for me?" Blair held out the box to Jim.

"Sure." Jim got the chain free of the box and fastened it around Blair's neck. Blair picked it up off his chest and seemed to be evaluating it for a moment.

"Jim? Could we get a shorter chain?"

"Sure, anything you want, sweetheart."

"I want it to show. Like up higher around my neck. This'll always be under everything."

"I know you're not big on gold jewelry. I didn't think you'd want it to show very much."

"This is different. I want everybody to see it. And I want to see it and feel it up close to me."

"Then we'll go get a different chain first thing tomorrow."

"Okay." Blair smiled and looked down at his lighthouse again. "I love it."

"I love you."

"I love you more than anything." Blair slumped against Jim, relaxing in his arms a moment.

"The panther is...it's just exceptional Blair. It's perfect."

"Good. Kinda like you."

"Thanks, baby. But you're stretching it a little."

"Nope. You're perfect in my eyes. Nobody else's opinion counts--least of all yours."

"Least of all mine, huh?" Jim smiled and cuddled his armload.

"Think we could take a bath? I've got Italian dressing in some bad places, man."

"I'd love to take a bath with you." Jim kissed the end of Blair's nose, laughing a bit as he recalled their wild encounter on the kitchen floor.

"I'm so happy I think I might blow up."

"That just about says it for me too, Chief. Maybe you did just find the words after all."

"Hey, words are my specialty, man," Blair teased as he slid off Jim's lap and moved toward the bathroom. His lover was close behind him.

Jim stirred, disturbed by something that hadn't quite penetrated his deep sleep. Instinctively, he groped a little for Blair, and came in contact with a sweaty, clammy arm as it thrashed against the mattress. He came fully awake now to find his lover in the throes of a nightmare.

"Blair? Come on, Chief, wake up." He shook the writhing body gently.

"No!!!" Blair shot bolt upright in bed, his eyes open now, but glazed over as if he were in some odd trance.

"Shhhh. It's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. Come on, baby, wake up for me." Jim gently took a hold of the trembling shoulders, vaguely aware of knocking at the bedroom door.

"No!!! Can't...stop... Oh, God!!!" Blair's face was transfixed with terror as he screamed out into the darkness that was soon dispelled by the soft glow of a lamp Vanessa turned on as she entered the room, followed by Thorne. Their calls and knocks had gone unanswered, and Blair was screaming as if he were being murdered.

"Blair, come on, it's me. Look at me, sweetheart." He carefully turned Blair's face so their eyes met. For a chilling moment, he felt as if he weren't really looking into Blair's eyes. They were the eyes of someone terrified, but somehow familiar.

"There was another car!" Blair whispered to Jim before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell back, caught in his lover's strong arms.

"Oh my God! Thorne, is he all right?" Vanessa hurried over to the bedside, unlike her husband who hung back a considerable distance.

"He just fainted," Jim stated, feeling Blair's pulse and tuning in to every vital function of the precious body in his arms. "He's okay." Jim brushed the hair back from Blair's face and started patting it lightly to bring him around. Vanessa hurried into the bathroom and returned with a cool washcloth and a glass of water. Thorne continued to hang back near the bedroom doorway, watching the whole scenario with an unreadable expression on his strong features.

"What--?" Blair lurched a little as he came to, cradled in Jim's arms with Vanessa carefully bathing his face with the washcloth.

"You had a nightmare, Chief. Passed out on me for a minute there."

"Oh...sorry." He noticed Vanessa hovering in attendance and smiled, but when his eyes met Thorne's, an odd look passed over his features that mingled fear, embarassment and a slight touch of hostility.

"We'll let you two get some rest now," Vanessa said, handing the washcloth over to Jim.

"Sorry we got you out of bed," Jim apologized.

"I'm glad everything's all right," Thorne managed, smiling slightly. It occured to Jim he looked more like he was passing gas than smiling.

"We're fine. Thanks." Jim forced his own smile, though for Vanessa's sensitivity and concern, it was genuine. After the older couple had left the room, pulling the door shut behind them, Jim looked down at the still-troubled face that rested against his chest. "Let's lie back, huh?" Blair nodded slightly. Jim lowered them both back on the bed, drawing the covers up and cuddling Blair against him. An arm wrapped firmly around his waist.

"I was so scared, Jim."

"Do you remember the nightmare at all?"

"I was in a car...an old car...I think. I didn't think it was old then...but looking back, it was. It was raining...there was ice and I couldn't control the car very well."

"We've talked about my mother a lot in the last week, sweetheart. It sounds like her accident."

"You don't understand, Jim. I was...I was there. It was like...I wasn't...me."

"What are you saying, Blair?" Jim felt a shiver pass through his own body. Suddenly, it fell into place whose eyes he felt he was looking into as Blair had whispered in a voice so low only he could hear. He hadn't looked into them since he was a very small child.

"I was in that car, Jim. It was like...I was driving...and... and Jim...there was another car...right behind me." It was Blair's turn to shudder now, and he cringed against Jim.

"You felt as if you were in my mother's place?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"The other car, it was bigger than mine, and...and all of a sudden, it rushed up behind me...and then bumped the back end of my car...and I couldn't control the car anymore, and for that horrible moment...before everything went dark...I was airborne in that car, man...over the bluff...in the dark..." Blair started to cry softly against Jim's chest. "She was so scared, Jim...she knew what was coming but she couldn't stop it."

"Blair, are you sure this isn't just a nightmare?"

"You know it wasn't. I heard her voice. I heard her tell you that there was another car."

"You told me that, baby," Jim said softly, rubbing Blair's back gently.

"It might have been my voice you heard, but it was Amanda. I know it, Jim. It was like she...she took me...across the barrier and showed me...what happened...and then used me to...to tell you."

"You had a nightmare," Jim repeated, hating himself for stifling what Blair was saying, and at the same time, being too afraid to face the fact that he had looked into his mother's eyes only moments earlier while she told him she'd been murdered.

"No. Oh, no, Jim, don't do this," Blair shook his head. "Don't make it for nothing. She's trying to tell you--"

"Dammit, Blair, stop it!" Jim wrenched away from him and got out of bed. "My mother's been dead for over thirty years! There's no way in hell she's saying anything anymore!" He paced back and forth angrily.

"You can rant and rave and deny it all you want." Blair sat up in bed now, and Jim wasn't sure if the fire he saw in those familiar blue eyes was Blair's or if it was the final vestiges of Amanda's spirit. "The fact remains that I know what I saw and what I heard--"

"You were having a fucking nightmare!" Jim snapped back.

"Keep your voice down." Blair got out of bed and pulled on his robe.

"Why are you doing this?" Jim finally asked, sounding more helpless than Blair had heard him in a while. The younger man's face softened immeasurably at the fear in his lover's voice.

"I don't mean to, Jim." Blair crossed the room and moved into arms Jim opened to receive him. "I know it's scary, but I'm not lying to you. I wouldn't lie to you. You know that."

"I know."

"It was Amanda. I'm sorry, lover, but that's who it was. And it was more than a dream."

"Then who was in the other car?" Jim stepped back a little.

"I don't know that."

"Did she know?"

"I don't know that either. That part's real foggy. It was a big car...hers was smaller...like a sports car."

"Yes, it was."

"One good ram from behind and the car just spun out of control and then it was airborne."

"My dad--Ellison--always drove a Cadillac. Cars like the Cobra were toys for him. But his main car was always a Cadillac. Dear God. Blair, what if...?" Jim sat on the edge of the bed. "My God, what if...?"

"You don't really think he'd do that." Blair knelt in front of Jim, looking up at his lover's troubled face.

"I don't know. If he knew about Thorne and Amanda, and about me...what if he killed her because of me?"

"Listen to me." Blair grasped both of Jim's hands in his. "Even if it was your dad, and even if he did it because Thorne was your father...it doesn't make it your fault. Jim, you were an innocent child then. You were born into an impossible situation... one that was destined to end badly. It wasn't your fault whatever actions the adults at the time took because of the situation. You were a victim of it, not the cause." Blair looked up hopefully into the clouded, troubled eyes of his lover.

"Come here." Jim pulled him up by their joined hands and then pulled Blair onto his lap, holding on tightly. "I looked...right into her eyes," he murmured into Blair's shoulder.

"She has a reason for trying to tell you, Jim. I don't know all the answers yet, but there's something. Something's very wrong...something that still...matters now. It's like ever since that morning I went downstairs--back at the house? And you found me looking at her picture? It's been as if she was trying to tell me something. It's like I've had these mega-protective instincts where you were concerned."

"What else is new?" Jim smiled as Blair straightened a little to look into his eyes. "Aren't you the one who told Donald to 'put a lid on it'? Do you know how long I've wanted to tell Donald to 'put a lid on it'?"

"He had it coming. He was acting like an asshole." Blair smiled a little, then kissed Jim's lips slowly, gently. "I know I'm not a real formidable opponent for anybody, but I always want to keep anything bad away from you."

"You're pretty formidable, Chief. I know I don't like to risk pissing you off."

"You don't, huh?" Blair replied with a little grin.

"Look, I don't understand all this stuff. I don't know what to do about it."

"Me either."

"I thought you were the expert."

"Not in parapsychology and psychic phenomena. Thanks for giving me credit for knowing everything, but there are one or two things that aren't in my databank, lover."

"Think we ought to try for a little sleep?"

"Yeah. Maybe we ought to tackle this tomorrow."

"Things could be worse." Jim turned where he sat and stretched back out in bed while Blair dowsed the light and shed his robe, then climbed back in beside him.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You could be Thorne trying to process seeing us naked in bed together." Jim started to laugh, and before long, Blair joined him, covering his face with one hand.

"Oh, boy. Man, he's really gonna hate me now."

"Oh, I don't know. Seeing you naked always makes me fonder of you."

"You know what I mean. Vanessa's really a cool lady. I like her."

"So do I." Jim was quiet a few minutes, and relaxed at the sensations of Blair rolling on his side to face him, one of those dear little hands feeling its way across the small space between them until it found Jim's arm. On the rare occasions they didn't sleep in a tangle of limbs, Blair always sought to touch Jim in some small way as he slept.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I scared you before."

"I know. It's okay."

"You're not still mad at me?" Blair asked hesitantly.

"Of course not."

"Hold me?"

"Always, baby. Come here."

"Jim?" Soft breath on his chest as Blair settled there. "I'll figure this out somehow. I promise."

"We'll figure it out. Don't worry about it, sweetheart. Go to sleep."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

The next day was Saturday, and the Westbrooks suggested having a light lunch at their yacht club and then spending the afternoon at the beach. It was a pleasant day, with temperatures in the upper seventies. The older couple both sported good tans, and their younger guests figured they would just be obvious tourists-- conspicuous by their late fall pallors.

No further reference was made to the previous night's incident as they shared a pleasant lunch in a posh club overlooking the water. The most eventful moment of the meal was when the salad was served, and that reminded Vanessa to ask Blair what he thought of the Italian dressing.

Jim choked on his lemonade.

The leisurely time at the beach was a good opportunity for Jim and Thorne to talk at greater length about their experiences with the criminal element, while Vanessa pumped Blair for more of his anecdotes about various tribes and exotic places he had visited. He didn't mind talking, and she seemed genuinely fascinated by his knowledge of different cultures, so their afternoon of sipping cold beverages from the cooler they'd brought along and taking occasional swims was a relaxing and pleasant one.

"Looks like we're out of beer," Thorne announced, annoyed.

"But you and Jim only had one each. I'm sure I packed more," Vanessa dug through the ice in the cooler, but no beer greeted her.

"Well, I'd like another beer." Thorne stood and picked up his t-shirt, pulling it back over his head so he was properly dressed with that and his shorts to make a beer run. "Why don't you ride along with me, Blair? Give us a chance to talk a little."

Blair was thrown by the offer, and the friendly tone. Jim sort of smirked at him and shrugged, so Blair rose to his feet, put on his own t-shirt and slid into his sneakers to follow Thorne.

"We'll be back shortly," Thorne promised as the two men started their trek back to the car.

"Must be great to have this weather year round," Blair began weakly. It was lame conversation, but his stomach was tied in a knot for some reason. He wasn't happy to have been tapped on the shoulder for this errand.

"We lived in L.A. for a while, so I guess I was spoiled with having this temperate weather all the time. It's a far cry from Cascade."

"Really. How long have you guys lived here?" Blair slid into the passenger seat of the Lincoln as Thorne started it up.

"Two years. Quite a place, eh?"

"Beautiful. Very peaceful."

"Did you manage to get any rest last night?"

"Finally, yeah. Sorry about waking you up like that. I don't usually have nightmares."

"What do you suppose triggered it?"

"It's been a real emotional time with Jim's fath--with a death in the family and Jim finding out about...everything."

"He's a good man. I would certainly be proud to introduce him as my son."

"That's nice to hear. But then I can't picture anybody not feeing that way about Jim. He's a great guy."

"Certainly is." Thorne gave Blair a surreptitious once over that the anthopologist most definitely caught out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing. "You two met on the job then?"

"I wanted to study criminal investigation techniques, and Jim agreed to let me observe him."

"I see. There's the store."

After purchasing a six pack and a few snacks Blair snagged from the shelves, knowing Jim would be about due for the munchies after such a light lunch, they were back in the car headed toward the beach.

"Sometimes dreams can be symbolic, you know," Thorne said, breaking a momentary silence.

"I've heard."

"I've had some background in dream interpretation and analysis, if you'd like to discuss it."

"I don't remember anything very clearly," Blair lied, suddenly evaluating how far they were from the beach and how slowly Thorne was driving.

"I'd like to have a little chat with you, Blair. Do you mind?" he asked, pulling the large car off the road into the parking lot of a closed bank.

"I guess not--but what about the beer? I mean, shouldn't we get back--"

"In a minute. Surely, you can see that Jim has an exceptional future ahead of him, especially now, in light of his inheritance."

"He had a promising one before that, but okay, I see your point."

"I don't think you do. It doesn't matter to you because you are very obviously an unconventional person. And your career is not one that's dependent on your personal image."

"And this is relevant to...?" Blair made a puzzled expression with widened eyes.

"Don't play dumb with me, kid. This kinky thing you've got going with my son is an abomination. It's going to destroy his reputation and his chances for any decent future at all. I want to know how much it would take to make you disappear."

"This isn't about money. We love each other and have a commitment--"

"You've dragged him into some kind of perverted sexual deviance and one day he's going to come to and realize he's thrown out his whole life for it. Now don't insult my intelligence by trying to tell me that a scroungy little hippie beggar like yourself isn't along for the free ride."

"Now you listen to me. First of all, if I were going to prostitute myself for monetary gain, I sure as hell would've aimed higher than a cop's pension. When I met Jim and fell in love with him and stayed committed exclusively to him for a full two years, that's all he had to offer in the line of vast wealth. What he offered me was his friendship, his kindness, his love--that's a greater wealth to me than all the fancy country clubs and big-assed cars and conspicuous consumption on this earth."

"And of course you didn't know he stood to inherit a fortune."

"No, I didn't. Not for a long time. And I wouldn't have cared one way or the other if I had. The only reason I'm trying to keep this civil is because you're Jim's father. Let's just drop this and get back to Jim and Vanessa before we both say something worse than we already have."

"I want you gone." Thorne pinned him with a menacing glare. Fear gripped Blair's heart momentarily, and then he was infused with a courage and anger he didn't anticipate.

"Why? Because you can't make me do what you want? Because I said 'no' to you? Like Amanda did?" Blair shot the older man a glare of his own, his dark blue eyes bearing an unusual icy lightness...more like Jim's eyes...or his mother's.

"What in the hell do you know about Amanda?"

"I think we should be getting back now." Blair turned away to face the windshield. He was almost consciously stifling the voice inside him that wanted to scream "I know everything, you son of a bitch!"

"This isn't over. No overpriced male whore is going to ruin my son's future!" Thorne bellowed.

"Look," Blair kept his eyes focused on the windshield, "you can either start this goddam bathtub on wheels and drive us back to the beach or I'm going to get out and walk back there myself!!" Blair concluded in a shout.

"You're not going anywhere until this is settled!"

"Watch me!" Blair started to open the door when a surprisingly strong hand gripped his upper arm and pulled him back inside the car. "Let go of me, now." It was a low growl.

"I'm not finished with you."

"Go ahead. Keep a real good hold. Jim's going to want to know where the bruises came from, so get your story straight." Blair contemplated giving the older man a good swift kick in the shin and running like hell, but their age difference and the fact he was Jim's father kept him temporarily subdued.

"No son of mine is a damned faggot! That's your doing, and by God, it's going to stop," Thorne spat out, tightening his already painful hold on Blair's arm. Tired of the insults and the manhandling, Blair's foot shot out and made contact with the older man's leg, causing his grip to loosen momentarily. Blair bolted for the door but Thorne had engaged the power locks, and the extra time it took him to fumble with the switch gave the other man the time he needed to recover from the blow.

Thorne grabbed a handful of Blair's hair and yanked him backwards, forcing his neck back at a painful angle.

"I could snap your worthless little neck right here," he growled down at Blair, who struggled to keep the fear out of his eyes. "Now, you're going to tell me everything you know about Amanda's accident. And don't play games with me because it won't bother me in the least to kill you."

"In broad daylight?" Blair gritted out, trying not to concentrate on the straining of all the muscles in his neck and the arm Thorne had captured with his other hand. He might have been older, but he obviously maintained his physical fitness at its peak, and he was considerably larger than his prey.

"Try me." Something in those cold eyes froze Blair's soul. This man had killed before...

"What makes you think I know anything about her accident? It happened before I was born."

"I guess you didn't understand me." He pulled Blair's head back as far as it would go without snapping his neck. There was a little grunt of pain from the younger man. "Now, tell me what you know."

Blair didn't understand why fear suddenly registered on Thorne's face until he heard a distinctly female voice coming out of his own mouth.

"I know that you're a filthy, murdering bastard and I'm coming back for you!"

Blair lurched forward with a groan as he was released, and turned to see Thorne clutching his chest, in the throes of a very violent heart attack.

Blair was still coughing a little, trying to catch his breath as he groped for the car phone and called 911.

The paramedics arrived in record time, leaning over the older man in the car, checking his vitals and fitting an oxygen mask over his face. Blair was out of the car, pacing in the parking lot, trying to ease the pain and cramping in his neck and back. When he was able to get one of the medics' attention, he informed them he was going to drive to the beach to get the man's family. Since Thorne's ID and insurance card were in his wallet, it wasn't necessary for Blair to be on hand to provide immediate information as he was taken into the hospital.

He sat behind the wheel of the Lincoln momentarily, feeling tremors running through his entire body. If he allowed himself to process what had just happened, there was no way he'd be in any condition to drive to the beach, get Vanessa and Jim, and drive them to the hospital. He took a deep breath and started up the car, resolving to deal with all of it later. In Thorne's condition, he was no immediate threat to anyone.

"Oh, there comes Blair," Vanessa said to Jim, relief obvious in her voice.

"Something's wrong," Jim announced as he stood, then started running across the sand to meet his partner. "Hey, Chief, what is it?" Jim grabbed him by the arms and then let go when Blair flinched, noticing the bruising on his arm. "What the--?"

"Jim, it's...it's your...it's Thorne. He had a heart attack. They're taking him to the hospital right now. I brought the car back so we could all go there." Blair was proud of himself for keeping his voice steady, and not giving in to the overpowering desire to wrap his arms around Jim and hang on for dear life.

"Oh my God." He turned and headed back toward where Vanessa was now standing, looking panicky. When they approached her, Blair immediately started gathering up their things. "Van, it's Thorne. He's had a heart attack," he said in as gentle a tone as possible. "He's being taken to the hospital. We have to head over there now."

"Oh, God...Jim--he--he was fine just an hour ago--" she sputtered, on the verge of panic-induced tears.

"When my dad had his heart attack, it was very sudden, but he survived it. His death had nothing to do with his heart. He bounced back. Thorne will too. Now let's get going." Jim scooped up as much of their gear as he could carry, and Blair did the same.

The somber-faced group in the waiting room sat in silence for a long time. There had been no word from the doctors working on Thorne. Blair had explained away the ugly bruises on his arm by saying that Thorne had pulled off the road and then grabbed his arm when the chest pain started. Neither Jim nor Vanessa needed to hear that Thorne was in the middle of trying to torture information out of him when he had his attack. And then there was the little matter of Amanda's participation...

"Mrs. Westbrook?" A short, stocky man in blue scrubs with receding gray hair and wire-framed glasses approached them.

"Yes?" she replied as all three stood.

"I'm terribly sorry. We did everything we could...it was a massive heart attack. We couldn't save him."

"Oh God no!!" she wailed, her legs giving out just as Jim came to her side and guided her to sit on the couch.

"Our chaplain is here if..."

"Our priest is Father Williams at St. Margaret's," Vanessa choked out. "Please, get him for Thorne."

"Right away. And I'll come back to see you in case you have any questions." The doctor took his leave.

"Why...?" She looked up helplessly at Blair, who was seated on the arm of chair across from where the other two sat. Jim still kept an arm around Vanessa, in a partial state of shock himself at losing the second father in so many weeks.

"It was very sudden," Blair mumbled, feeling his own strength draining. Vanessa didn't need to know that Thorne was a murderer, and he questioned if Jim really needed to know that either.

Within moments, they were joined by the hospital chaplain and the doctor, who escorted Vanessa back at her request to see Thorne's body. Jim took that opportunity to evaluated his lover's shaky appearance. He knew there was plenty Blair wasn't saying, and that he was very overwrought. His rapid heartbeat alone gave that much away. He stood up and walked over to Blair, holding out his arms. The smaller man lurched against him immediately, shaking almost uncontrollably. There were a few tears, but they were being superceded by shock and fear.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here." Jim didn't understand Blair's reaction, but he held him tightly and rubbed up and down his back soothingly.

"I'm sorry," Blair managed.

"I know. Some things just aren't meant to be, I guess. At least I got to meet him. That's something. Hell, maybe the strain of it was too much for him--"

"No! It wasn't you. It wasn't that at all," Blair hastened to clarify, pulling back.

"Why don't you tell me what it was then? And while you're at it, tell me how you got those bruises and why your neck's bothering you."

"Later, huh? Vanessa's going to need help...we can talk later."

"Okay. You feel all right, Chief?" Jim took Blair's face gently between his hands. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

"No," Blair responded, holding onto Jim's wrists.

"Okay then. We'll talk later."

With Thorne resting in the morgue pending the arrival of the funeral home personnel, Vanessa rode silently home with her houseguests. She retired to her room after taking one of the sedatives the doctor had given her.

"She's handling this pretty well, considering," Jim commented, finding a beer in the refrigerator and then joining Blair where he sat at the kitchen table.

"She seems like a strong lady."

"No more procrastinating, Chief. I want to know the story."

"After we picked up the beer at the store, Thorne started asking me about my dream last night, and talking about dream interpretation. Then he said he wanted to have a little chat with me and pulled into this empty parking lot. He started in on what a bright future you had, and how having me in your life was going to screw it up."

"Oh shit. I should have seen something like that coming. I knew his attitudes weren't what they appeared on the surface."

"He basically said I was a fortune-hunter, only in it for the money, and he wanted to know how much it would take for me to get lost." Blair shook his head. "I set him straight real fast that my reasons for being here had nothing to do with money. But he just kept getting angrier and more insulting, so I told him to either get moving or I was going to walk back to the beach. He grabbed my arm then and started chewing me out again, so after I warned him to let me go, and he didn't, I kicked him. I thought I could get out of the car and out-run him. I guess I didn't notice he'd locked the doors."

"This is incredible." Jim got up and started pacing. "I knew the guy seemed a little dismayed about us, but I never dreamed..."

"He grabbed me by the hair and got a hold of my arm again, and he was pulling my head back as far as it would go. Then he started asking me about Amanda's accident."

"What?"

"He wanted to know what I knew about it. I told him I didn't know anything, that it had happened before I was even born, so how could I?" Blair shuddered. "There was something else in that car with us, Jim. Something...someone else in me. Just when I thought I couldn't stand the pressure on my neck anymore, I heard a woman's voice. It was like I was talking, but I wasn't...and she told him he was a 'filthy murdering bastard' and she was coming back for him. After that, he let go of me and grabbed his chest, and I called 911 as soon as I could get my breath to talk."

"So he was going to kill you?" Jim dropped back into his chair.

"He told me it wouldn't bother him at all to kill me so I should tell him what I knew. That's when Amanda took over. Jim, I know it was her. I've felt it all along--it's been as if she's been trying to tell me something, and guiding me--and now I know why."

"So Thorne ran her off the road." Jim's voice was weak with shock. "Oh my God."

"I'm sorry, lover. I really am." Blair reached out and covered Jim's hand with his. The other man didn't move or respond.

"I thought it was bad when my father just wasn't such a great guy. Now...dear God, this one's a murderer."

"He didn't raise you, Jim. Things like that aren't hereditary, man."

"My father murdered my mother...what kind of a monster was he?" Jim turned troubled eyes toward Blair, looking for an answer as he so often did.

"He was in love, obsessed, used to getting what he wanted... Love and hate--they're real close. You know that from your relationship with your dad--I mean the dad that raised you. You loved him and hated him at the same time. Those emotions can coexist. And Thorne was still in love with Amanda, but she was rejecting him--probably for good reason. She probably got a good look at what kind of person he really was. If she was rejecting him and he felt helpless to stop her...a moment of anger or passion intense enough is all it takes to turn someone into a murderer. You know that."

"But he wasn't laboring under that kind of passion today. He lured you away from the group, trapped you and then threatened to kill you."

"All he did was hurt my neck and scare the shit out of me. I don't know that he would have finished the job."

"My mother knew...oh God, she knew only too well," Jim concluded, running a hand over his forehead and back through his short hair. "Do you feel like...like this is what she wanted?"

"I don't know if she had a plan. I just know she was with me from the moment I sat there and stared at her portrait the other morning until...until now. Whether she wanted this specifically or not, I feel like she considers it resolved." Blair exhaled loudly. "It's so strange...feeling someone else...traveling around inside your head like that."

"That explains why you were uneasy here, right from the start."

"Yeah. She was trying to warn me, or let me know. And I think she was using me to keep you safe. In the end, she saved my life."

"If I hadn't seen what I saw after your nightmare...I wouldn't even be able to believe all this. But I looked right into her eyes for just that split second. And I knew."

Thorne Westbrook was to be buried in the same cemetery as James and Amanda Ellison. A somber flight to Cascade ended in following the hearse to the funeral home, where Vanessa made the final arrangements for her husband's burial. Jim and Blair had remained at her side for moral support since Thorne's death. Now that she was back in her old home territory, she would be staying with her brother and sister-in-law until her return to Palm Beach.

Neither Jim nor Blair shared with her the revelation of Thorne's role in Amanda's "accident". Jim's mother's killer was dead now, and there was little point in making his widow pay the price for his crimes. Further, there was little point in dragging the Ellison family name through the mud with any great graveside revelations of Jim's paternal parentage. So Jim and Blair attended the funeral with the rest of the mourners, allowing Vanessa all the dignity she deserved and keeping Jim's family out of the spotlight.

When the funeral was over, Jim drove himself and Blair back to the Ellison estate in silence. Once again, he was back to being without family, except for Blair. Not that Blair wasn't more than enough. For one brief, shining moment, he thought he'd found the solution to his hollow relationship with the man he had come to think of as his "custodial father". Thorne Westbrook had been anxious to welcome Jim into his life...but even he had a horrible dark side just waiting to reveal itself.

"You okay?" Blair's question made Jim realize that his despondent sigh had been audible.

"Yeah. I'm all right."

"I'm sorry things turned out this way, lover."

"Me too." He scooped up Blair's hand and held onto it as he steered with his free hand.

"I wish there was something I could do..."

"You're here. That's all I need, Chief."

"Our two weeks from the department are almost up."

"Simon would probably extend it, but I don't really want it extended."

"You still want to move here?" Blair asked as they pulled up in front of the house.

"I figured we'd keep the loft, for times when the weather's inclement or if we're working long hours and want to skip the drive out here. But yeah, overall, I'd like to live here."

"I think that would make your mom happy, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think so." Jim looked over at Blair, feeling it had been much too soon to see him somber-faced and dressed for a funeral again. He reached over and rubbed the back of his lover's neck, knowing the muscles were still stiff there. "I love you. Have I mentioned that lately?"

"Well, it's been a couple hours." Blair leaned back into the relief of the massaging fingers.

"Sorry about that," Jim apologized, smiling a little.

"You could probably make it up to me if you spent the afternoon cuddling on the couch with me."

"As fate would have it, my calendar's clear for this afternoon."

"Imagine that," Blair replied, moving his head back and forth to test the relief the still-busy fingers were giving him.

"I still think we should have had your neck x-rayed."

"You felt it and said it was just pulled muscles."

"I'm not an x-ray machine, sweetheart." Jim laughed a little.

"Close enough for me." Thunder and lightning made them both jump a little, and with a shared chuckle, they decided to retreat to the shelter of the house.

Jim dozed a little as he sat slumped in the corner of the couch, the sofa pillows supporting his back and Blair nestled between his legs and against his chest. The long curls were loose around his shoulders since Jim had released them the moment they cuddled up together. He occasionally toyed with the soft hair as Blair read aloud from a book he'd found on a shelf in the house's library. It was a novel of some sort, with family intrigues and tragic romances. As the thunder clapped loudly and the lightning blazed across the sky, the rain pounded mercilessly against the windows with the force of the wind.

"Won't be many leaves left after this one," Blair commented, removing his glasses. He had grown tired of the novel's angst-riddled saga, and settled back against Jim, his cheek against the soft wool of his lover's sweater. The familiar heartbeat started lulling him into sleep. The library was the coziest room in the house, in Blair's opinion, with its dark paneled walls, large fireplace, clutter of books and comfortable furniture.

"Quite a storm out there." Jim rubbed Blair's back in long, slow strokes. "If Thorne had killed you, I--"

"Don't. It's over, lover. He didn't. We're okay and we're together." Blair wound an arm tightly around Jim's middle.

"This is perfect. This place, us...the only thing that would make it more perfect is if we were making love in front of the fire."

"What about Anna?"

"The door's closed. I told her that if we're home and the door to a room is closed, she or the other staff should always knock. Furthermore, if they know we're in the room, and the door's closed, it means we want privacy."

"You told her that?"

"Blair, when you have a domestic staff, you have the right to lay down some ground rules. You have to so that the presence of that staff doesn't preclude privacy or peace of mind."

"Man, that's scary. You just turned into the lord of the manor without warning." Blair chuckled a little.

"Well, I learned that much well from the old man. He was respected by the staff, but they sure didn't cross him. I like to think I'm less formidable. Hell, Anna's more like my grandmother than the housekeeper."

"She feels the same way about you. She really cares about you, Jim."

"I know. And that's why I know she'll run the house and manage the staff the way I ask her to. Now, my next order of business is to get rid of all these clothes you've got on."

"You're not exactly naked yourself, big guy." Blair slid his hand under Jim's sweater, found the t-shirt, and grasping it, pulled it out of his jeans.

"Hey, I thought I was going to undress you."

"Change of plans." Blair pulled the garments up enough to expose Jim's flat stomach, which he immediately assaulted with hot, moist lips and tongue.

"I like the new plan." Jim smiled and relaxed into the cushions, moving his arms just enough to cooperate with Blair pulling the sweater and t-shirt over his head.

"I want to taste all of you. Just relax..."

Blair kissed and licked every bit of flesh around Jim's stomach and sides, dipping his tongue into the little valley of Jim's navel and then nibbling maddeningly at the flesh just beneath it. The demon lips made their way up Jim's side and after bathing his ribs with loving attention, slid over to his armpit, nuzzling and kissing it thoroughly. Jim instinctively relaxed further, lacing his fingers behind his head as he lay on the couch, giving Blair full acccess to every inch of his body.

Jim's lover was thorough to an arousing fault. He didn't miss a bit of skin above Jim's waist, and finally, he was unfastening the front of the jeans which had become a device of torture for Jim's hardening shaft. Blair was still fully clothed, and for some reason, that in itself was part of the thrill as Jim felt the jeans carefully pulled down his legs and discarded. Next, Blair removed his socks and then, with a kiss planted just below Jim's navel, grasped the waistband of the boxers and slid them down the long, muscled legs. They, too, joined the pile of clothing on the floor.

Jim opened his eyes long enough to take in the sight of the sexy little predator that was straddling his legs, facing his feet, giving Jim a nice view of the denim-clad ass he hoped to possess shortly.

Blair treated Jim's feet, ankles and legs to the same solicitous lip-service he'd given his torso. Just as he worked his way up the thighs, and Jim parted them hopefully so that one leg hung off the couch, Blair ceased his ministrations.

"What--?" He watched Blair with a mixture of angry frustration and curiosity.

"Turn over, big guy. There are a few things I want to sample on the other side."

"There are a few things you better sample on this side first," Jim insisted, shifting his thighs to indicate his straining erection.

"Uh-uh. Back first."

"Sadist." Jim waited while Blair moved off him, and turned over in one swift move. His aching cock got some relief chafing against the sofa cushions. He felt the beloved warm weight of a now-naked Blair climb back astride his hips, and soft lips descended on the back of his neck.

He wasn't sure which sensation was commanding more of his attention: feeling Blair's warm, naked ass and thighs just above his backside, stropping his painful arousal on the couch or the hot, hungry mouth that marked his neck and shoulders with love bites. Now Blair was licking along his shoulder blades, and the little torturer was actually humping against Jim as he did it!

"I'm going to get you for this," Jim gritted out.

"Promises, promises." Blair trailed kisses down Jim's spine, and shifted his weight further down the big man's legs as he planted a final kiss at the top of the seam of his lover's buttocks.

The lips that had left passion marks on his neck were now doing their same devilish business on Jim's buttocks. They finally slid into the valley between the cheeks Blair parted gently, and lapped wetly along the crevice as Jim thrust against the couch frantically. He let out a low growl as the tongue found his center, and snaked its way inside briefly.

"Come on, baby, do it!"

"You want me now, Jim?" The teasing tone of Blair's voice was almost as madness-inducing as the tongue that resumed its rimming activities.

"NOW!" Jim was surpised by the loudness of his command. Blair's weight left him momentarily, and he opened desire-clouded eyes to watch the appealing sight of Blair bending over at the waist to dig into the pocket of the sweatshirt he'd tossed on the floor. He turned and smiled at Jim's leer. The little fiend had planned this all along.

"Turn around so your knees are on the floor, lover." Blair waited while Jim followed the directions. "You're so perfect. God, you're so beautiful," Blair murmured against Jim's back as he pressed one lubed finger inside the snug opening. He continued to mutter little phrases of love as he slowly stretched the little portal, finally progressing to inserting three fingers, moving them about slowly.

"All right already!!" Jim yelled, bucking back against the invading fingers. "Prick tease," he goaded.

"You'll eat those words, lover. Patience."

Jim felt the head of Blair's shaft pushing against the tight ring of muscle that never quite wanted to surrender. This still was not a common event, though Blair was getting bolder about asking for it and Jim was becoming more relaxed and interested in receiving it.

Careful not to cause any undue pain, Blair kept up a strained litany of love words, making a very gradual progression into Jim's tight channel as he finally grasped and pumped the engorged cock that had waited so impatiently for his attentions. When they were fully joined, he slumped on the broad back in momentary relief of at last being sheathed to the hilt.

Gripping Jim's shoulders, he moved tentatively, sliding only slightly back and then moving gently forward.

"I won't break, baby. Come on, let it rip," Jim gritted. Blair's own control was too ragged by then to argue, and he began thrusting in earnest, dragging pleasured groans out of both of them. Jim's hips bucked wildly back to meet him as soon as he found the magic spot, and Blair stroked it relentlessly, loving the way Jim let go so completely in his ecstasy.

Judging by the screams, moans and strangled gasps echoing through the library, it was doubtful anyone would approach that closed door anytime soon.

"Almost home," Jim ground out, just as Blair felt his muscles spasm and pulse around his cock. The larger man cried out as his seed spurted over Blair's hand, his own belly, and the sofa. He heard Blair's answering wail as he reached his own climax, and slumped over Jim's back, spent and sated.

"Love you," Blair muttered, kissing Jim's back, just between his shoulders.

"Love you too, baby. But if you don't move, I'm going to drop you on the floor." Jim's legs were weakened from his climax, and the thought of holding Blair's weight up as well as his own was just too tiring.

"Sorry, man." Blair eased out of his lover carefully and moved aside to let Jim turn around.

"You're a little demon, do you know that?" Jim pulled the smaller, sweaty body into his arms and kissed Blair's hair.

"That was amazing, lover." Blair seemed as languid as Jim, slumping against his lover as they knelt there in front of the fire.

"I'm going to get you back for that little preliminary torture, Chief."

"You know where to find me." Blair smiled against Jim's chest, knowing this little threatening banter was Jim's way of easing his embarrassment after letting go so completely. Blair had far fewer hangups about offering himself to Jim on all fours, screaming like a banshee. But he fully understood that for someone with Jim's macho, male-oriented upbringing and career path, letting go and being submissive during sex wasn't easy.

"You bet I do." Jim moved back up to the couch and stretched out with Blair on top of him. He pulled the throw off the back of it and covered both of them.

"How're we gonna explain the wet spot on the couch?"

"We aren't. The maid'll clean it up."

"I can't believe you're letting the maid clean that up after us."

"Look, if I were married to a woman and had wild sex in some part of the house, the staff would just be expected to clean up the room like they always do. I don't owe them explanations. It isn't any different just because it's you and me. Do you think they think we live together in celibacy?"

"Well, no, but still--"

"Okay. We'll clean up this wet spot later, and we'll try to aim at something that doesn't stain next time if it'll make you feel better."

"I feel pretty good right now. Is it like that for you? I mean, do you kind of want to sit up and beat on your chest afterwards?" Blair's question was honest, but Jim couldn't help laughing out loud. He reached up and stroked the hot blush on Blair's face.

"Yeah, it's like that for me too, sweetheart." He pulled Blair in for a long kiss, their tongues dueling lazily in the afterglow. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you."

"Maybe we should thank each other."

"Maybe we should shut up and kiss some more." Blair captured Jim's mouth again, lingering there a long time.

"Jet lag and great sex--what a combination." Jim yawned and settled back into the cushions for a nap. His armload shifted a little, found the parts of Jim's body that served best as cushions, and quieted down to sleep.

Jim opened one eye and looked down at his lover. Silky chestnut curls spilled on Jim's shoulder, the angelic face under them a mask of sated contentment. As Blair dozed, he made a few funny little faces and moved the hand that had been possesively around Jim's waist up to rest on his chest. Releasing a sigh, Jim slipped into a peaceful sleep. Despite all the tragedy of the last two weeks, he felt remarkably blessed.

Jim leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen and watched the scenario with a smile. Blair was teaching Anna how to make an omelet his way, and she was insisting on adding her own touches as the project went along. Anna was a maternal type if he'd ever seen one, and it didn't surprise him she'd adopted Blair for her own.

"Jim--hey, we're creating a masterpiece here, man," Blair greeted.

"I can tell." Jim crossed the kitchen and kissed Blair lightly, patting his behind as he moved past him to get coffee.

"'morning, Anna. He converting you to putting bean sprouts in your omelets?"

"Sprouts and omelets don't mix. The sprouts are history," Anna declared victoriously, chopping up green peppers.

"The compromise vegetable," Blair added, smiling.

"Vanessa Westbrook called this morning. She asked for you to call her back."

"Okay." Jim tried to sound casual, but he knew that Anna knew there was something much more serious going on than met the eye.

Blair stole a glance at Jim, but said nothing.

"Well, I have a doctor's appointment in town, and since Blair has so kindly given me the day off, I'll be seeing you both tomorrow morning."

"Have a good one, Anna." Blair waved her off as she pulled on her coat and headed for the back door. While she had quarters at the house, she was obviously planning a full day away and a restful evening in her own room.

"See you tomorrow," Jim added. She smiled and waved at them both as she hurried out the back door. "Dismissing the servants, huh?"

"It just seemed like she needed a day to get some things done. She was telling me about her doctor's appointment, and then she said she had a bunch of other errands in town, so I figured she might as well go do her thing. We can manage."

"Wonder what Vanessa wants?" Jim picked up the phone in the kitchen and dialed the number Anna had written on the message. Blair continued his work on the omelets as Jim had a brief conversation with Thorne's widow, inquiring after her welfare and then listening for a few minutes to something she was saying. He began a flurry of protests, but was obviously talked down before he hung up the phone.

"Well?"

"She insists on giving me a couple of personal items that belonged to her husband."

"She's probably trying to be nice, Jim. She doesn't know."

"Yeah, I know." Jim sat at the table, which had already been set as Blair slid a fat omelet onto his plate. He returned to the stove and obtained his own, licking his fingers as he walked over to the table carrying the plate in one hand.

"What?" He noticed Jim staring at him.

"Oral fixation again." Jim smiled and started on his omelet.

"Hey, man, if all that's available are my fingers, any port in a storm."

"I don't want anything that belonged to that son of a bitch in this house. He tried to kill you." Jim pushed the omelet aside and slumped back in his chair.

"Did you ever think of having any kind of DNA testing done?"

"Little late for that now."

"They did an autopsy on your dad. They should have tissue samples left."

"My mother said it was Thorne."

"Your mother was a young married woman. I mean, maybe she made a mistake. Just because something was going on between her and Thorne doesn't mean that her husband never...you know."

"I doubt she would have told Westbrook I was his kid if she hadn't been sure."

"Maybe she felt sure, but maybe she was wrong."

"I suppose that's possible."

"Let's get the test done. Then you'll know."

"There isn't much discreet way to do that, Chief."

"Maybe Simon can help us."

"I'm not crazy about the whole world knowing that my mother had an affair."

"She was human, Jim. A very beautiful human, at that. And she slipped up a little. It happens."

"I guess."

"So don't tell him you think there's any basis for the question. Tell him it's something your greedy relatives cooked up to fight the will and you want something to back you up."

"Then if it shows I'm not--"

"You'll tell Simon about the man your mother loved before she was married that she had a brief affair with. If you want to. He's your friend, man. He isn't going to pry."

"You're right. Okay. I'll get a hold of Simon right after breakfast. This should be settled one way or the other once and for all."

With only two days left of their leave from the department, the two men decided to spend a little time enjoying the estate. Simon was going to have a friend of his in the lab run the tests with a blood sample Jim made a quick trip into town to provide. Meanwhile, Jim got Blair up on a horse of his own, and the two of them made a slow trot around the trails. After their ride, they returned to the house and measured the room Blair had chosen for his office, discussing the possible placement of furniture and shelves. Since Blair had a brief respite between book projects, he would be able to devote some long days to setting up his office. Jim also entrusted him with turning the elegant and elaborate mansion into a home. Jim had every confidence that before long, the sprawling mansion would be as cozy as the previously sterile loft had become.

The decision was made to keep the bedroom they'd had when they arrived, and the elaborate master suite would be used for guests. Blair helped Jim clean out a lot of papers and personal effects in his father's office on the first floor. While those cartons were moved to the attic, carefully labeled, Blair had the inspiration of bringing some of Jim's mother's things downstairs.

The photo of Amanda in her beautiful pink dress holding her toddler son on her lap was placed on the desk. Another photo of Amanda in one of her infamous expensive hats sat beside it. On the other side of the massive desk sat a photo of Blair that Jim had finally insisted the younger man sit still long enough to have professionally taken. Next to that one was a photo of the two of them together, an enlargement of a snapshot Simon had taken one day while they were out at the stables checking on Little Stogie. Both men were smiling, standing before the backdrop of the stable, in close proximity but not touching in any unseemly manner.

A few of Amanda's desk accesories were placed on the desk, as her taste seemed to run toward streamline and contemporary, rather than frilly. Her monogrammed gold letter opener went in the top middle drawer, her matching letter tray replaced the one her husband had used.

The final morning of Jim's leave from the department, they made several trips to the loft to pack and hauled the majority of their personal effects out to the estate.

"I'm gonna miss this place," Blair said quietly, removing the last of his trinkets from the shelves near the stairs and placing them in a box.

"It's not too late for us to sell the estate." Jim was tidying up in the kitchen, removing perishables. The kitchen could remain essentially undisturbed since the estate's kitchen was more than fully equipped.

"I think it'll be a beautiful place to live. It's just...this place has so many wonderful memories..." There was a little tremor in Blair's voice, and he cleared his throat. "I think that's the last of it."

"We'll still be staying here now and then, sweetheart."

"Oh, yeah, I know." Blair looked up the stairs. "I remember the first time you carried me up those stairs. And the first time we made love...I don't think I ever felt so many things all at one time. Love, uncertainty, excitement--some major fear...man, it was beautiful..." Blair was smiling now, his eyes closed.

"Keep talking like that, and you just might get carried up those stairs right now." Jim carried a carton over to the front door and set it there.

"Really?" Blair turned and looked at him hopefully.

"Really," Jim replied, in a much softer tone. Suddenly intoxicated with the thought of making love to Blair in the big bed where it all began, he crossed the room in a couple of long-legged strides and pulled his lover into his arms. Sliding his hand up to tangle in the soft hair, cradling the back of Blair's head, he brought their lips together in a soft, prolonged kiss that spoke of pure love. When they parted, Jim smiled at Blair and shifted his stance swiftly to sweep Blair up into his arms. He groaned loudly as the shrill ring of the phone halted him just inches from the first step.

"Better answer it. Might be important," Blair said, sounding disappointed.

"So's this." Jim took time for a kiss before releasing Blair back to stand on his own feet and answering the phone with a barked "Yeah?"

Blair watched his lover on the phone, and when he heard him call Simon by name, he knew it was the call they'd been waiting for in an unspoken state of tension. Jim listened to whatever Simon was telling him, and then his eyes drifted shut as if he were reacting to a major emotional impact. Then he nodded, eyes still closed, thanked Simon and hung up the phone.

"Jim? What is it?" Blair was at his side now, looking up urgently into Jim's eyes.

"I'm his son..." Jim wandered toward the couch and dropped down into the cushions. Blair sat with one leg under him next to Jim, reaching up to caress his lover's hair gently.

"Ellison's son?" Blair's question jarred Jim into clarifying what had been an ambiguous pronoun under the circumstances.

"She made a mistake." Jim shook his head slowly. "My God, Blair, he murdered her for nothing. I wasn't even his son." Jim's normally steady voice was weak and strained with shock.

"He didn't kill her because of you, lover. Get that idea out of your mind right now." Blair rested his head against Jim's, encircling the larger man's shoulders in his arms. "He loved her and he couldn't have her. She wouldn't do what he wanted her to do. He didn't get physically violent with me until I refused to do what he wanted. Vanessa pegged it when she said that Amanda was the first person who said 'no' to him. And he couldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"I don't know what to feel anymore. I've been back and forth so many times..." Jim shifted positions to rest his head against Blair's chest while he pulled his lover into a firm embrace. The steady beat of Blair's heart and the rhythm of his respiration calmed Jim as he felt the gentle hand stroking the side of his head, back through his hair.

"Last thing I remember, we were headed upstairs--"

"No." Jim pulled away and sat up straight, pierced by the look of hurt rejection that briefly crossed Blair's expressive face before he masked it with his usual good humor.

"Maybe later, huh?" He tried a smile, and almost made it convincing.

"Blair, I'm not going to use you to make myself feel better. It's not fair to you for me to throw you on your back every time I have a bad day."

"Oh, I don't know. Seems like a pretty good deal to me. We both end up feeling real good."

"From now on, if we make love, it's going to be for both of us."

"Why? Look, you're intent on punishing yourself for getting a little rough with me in the heat of passion one time out of how many zillion in the last couple years? How many times when I've been tired and stressed out working on a tedious writing job have you given me a massage and then made love with me half the night even though you had to get up early the next morning. And you cover me up and kiss me good-bye and let me sleep. Don't tell me all those times were equally good for you. Sure, they're all good, but sometimes you offer yourself to me to make me feel better and I do the same for you."

"But you never hurt me."

"Jim, will you get off that? So my asshole was a little tender for a day or so. Big deal. I'm not a virgin anymore. You don't have to spend the whole time you're inside me worrying about tearing something. Even as rough as you thought you were, you didn't draw any blood. I'm used to you and that big roll of summer sausage you've got." Blair fought a smirk.

"Big roll of what?!"

"Well, you know, big and smooth and meaty?"

"Thanks a lot, Chief. You just took care of me eating any of that box of gourmet meat and cheese we get from the Taggerts every year for Christmas."

"Good. It's bad for you anyway." Blair straddled Jim's lap with a satisfied grin, loosely draping his arms around the other man's neck. "Jim, all joking aside a minute, you've never been really rough on me in bed. You've never hurt me. You've almost never raised your voice to me. You treat me like a prince and generally spoil me rotten. Will you please stop nit-picking at yourself for taking what you needed from me when I offered it to you willingly?"

"I just haven't left you really sore since...since the first few times when we were both new to it."

"If I had yelled at you that you were hurting me, and asked you to stop, would you have?"

"Dear God, baby, you know I would. All you ever have to do--" Jim stopped as Blair rested gentle fingers against his lips.

"Did I ask you to stop?" He removed the restraining fingers.

"No."

"Did I scream in pain?"

"No. It sounded like...like you always sound."

"Did I cry?"

"No."

"Was I restrained?"

"No."

"Did you threaten me in any way?"

"I don't think so. I hope not."

"The right answer here is 'no', Jim. You were batting a thousand for a while there." He smiled as Jim chuckled a little.

"Point made."

"Is it?"

"I didn't hurt you and I didn't force you into anything."

"Good boy." Blair rewarded him with a prolonged kiss. "Now, how much begging do I have to do to get you into bed with me?"

"I still feel like I'm using you."

"Babe, I love you more than my own life. You are my life. And right now what you need is to feel close and connected to someone. Something real and certain to hold onto. Don't look now, but that something is sitting in your lap waiting to pounce on you and eat you alive."

"You know what I'd really like?"

"What?"

"Just to stretch out here and hold you a while." Jim's simple request made Blair's heart turn to mush and his face soften immeasurably.

"You never have to ask, lover." Blair tightened his arms around Jim's neck, and the larger man turned and lay back on the couch, bringing Blair with him so his weight rested heavy and warm on top of Jim.

"I'm glad she was wrong about Thorne," Jim said after a long silence.

"So'm I. I just wish she hadn't told your dad."

"Thorne probably would have if she didn't."

"Maybe he threatened to do that."

"Or she just knew him well enough to know he would." Jim sighed. "All those years...wasted. He hated me for no good reason. God, Chief, if I had just known what I had to do to change that...shit, a blood test would have changed our whole lives."

"Isn't it a little funny he wouldn't ever want one? I mean, obviously he and your mother were...you know..about the same time and..." Blair shrugged as best he could in the confines of Jim's arms.

"He probably took her word for it...figured she'd know."

"She wasn't a walking lab, Jim. She was human, and all she could go by was a gut feeling and a lot of unreliable estimating."

"All that time we missed...dear God, for no good reason."

"Jim, there is no good reason to hurt a child. Least of all to get back at your spouse for being unfaithful. Even if this test had come back verifying Thorne as your father, it doesn't exonerate your father for the way he treated you."

"You're usually willing to cut people a little more slack than that, sweetheart."

"Not when they hurt you. That's non-negotiable." Blair laced his fingers, palms down on Jim's chest, and rested his chin on the entwined fingers. His big blue eyes looked right into Jim's soul. "The only time I think I could kill someone is if they hurt you."

"How did I ever get so lucky, huh?" Jim asked quietly, tears behind his voice.

"Your mom picked me out, remember?" Blair moved his arms back around Jim and rested his head where his hands had been.

"I'm really beginning to believe that."

"I wonder if I knew your mom in a past life or something."

"I still don't know as I buy all that reincarnation stuff, Chief."

"But you can't deny that your mom's spirit was very much a part of all this."

"No. Nor do I want to deny it."

Most of their last free afternoon and evening were spent settling their clothing and personal effects into the mansion that had seemed previously quite cold and impersonal. Jim smiled as he wandered into the living room, famous for its austerity with its high ceilings, rich woodwork, ornate vintage furnishings and prior lack of any signs of life. On the mantle of the fireplace over which his mother's portrait hung, there were some of their favorite framed photographs: the two of them against a backdrop of the Grand Canyon from their vacation the previous year, Jim behind Blair with his arms around his lover, both smiling brightly; a very young Blair with a group of equally young college students looking sweaty and bedraggled but happy as they stood in the middle of their camp in some remote corner of the world; Jim with his old army unit; Naomi flashing one of her award-winning smiles for the camera in a photo Blair had snapped during her first visit to the loft; Blair, Jim, Simon and Daryl at Simon's birthday party three years earlier.

The last photo in the series stopped Jim in his tracks. He didn't remember ever seeing it before. James Ellison, Sr., in one of his usual dark business suits, stood behind his seated wife, who held an infant Stephen in her lap with one arm while her other hand rested on the back of her older son, who stood at the side of her chair with little hands gripping the armrest. She was dressed in a tailored red suit, and Jim was in a suit that appeared to be a tiny replica of his father's.

"I found it in the attic," Blair volunteered quietly from where he stood in the doorway of the room. "It was in that big trunk we didn't go through when we looked through your mom's stuff."

"I don't remember ever seeing it," Jim replied, not startled by Blair's voice. He'd heard the approach of the beloved heartbeat and Blairs soft footsteps as his stocking feet made their way down the carpeted steps and then ventured across the polished tile floor of the entry hall, careful not to slip.

"I hope you don't mind that I looked in there without you. I just...I was putting some of our storage stuff up there, and for some reason, I just got real curious about looking in there."

"This is your home, sweetheart. There's nowhere in it you aren't welcome to go or to look. With or without me." Jim turned away from the mantle and smiled at the heartwarmingly familiar sight of Blair in his t-shirt and sweatpants and stocking feet, hair hanging freely on his shoulders. In the midst of all this stately elegance, Blair was making himself very comfortably at home. Flexible little guy, this lover of mine, Jim thought fondly. I could drag him with me to a hut in the jungle or to a sprawling mansion, and he'd make it into a home.

"That's a nice picture of the whole family." Blair padded over to where Jim stood, wrapping his arms around the larger man from behind, laying his head against Jim's back.

"What're you doin' back there where I can't reach you, huh?" Jim looked over his shoulder as he covered Blair's hands where they crossed on Jim's stomach.

"It's gettin' kinda lonely upstairs, man."

"It is, huh?" Jim pulled a hand up to his lips and kissed it.

"Cold, too."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. It's bad enough I had to take a shower all by myself. You expect me to go to sleep that way?"

"I expect you to go to sleep in my arms after we make love. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like we're wasting our last night off doing a hell of a lot of talking." Blair released him and grabbed his hand. "Come on, lover. Let's go christen the bedroom."

"I guess we've never made love in there, have we?" Jim stopped in his tracks, shocked. "There was the time in the clearing--"

"The two times in the clearing," Blair corrected.

"Yeah. Man, that was a hell of a picnic."

"I think we should endeavor to make love in every room of the house. At least twice." Blair was trying to keep the grin off his face, but it wasn't working.

"Before work tomorrow?" Jim teased.

"That would be a personal best, even for me. And for a guy your age, well..." Blair made a dismissive noise with his mouth. "A guy my age, huh?" Jim repeated in mock anger. Blair turned and made a dash for the stairs, with Jim hot on his heels. The larger man was letting his devilish partner lead the chase, not really attempting to catch him.

He let Blair make it all the way into their bedroom before he caught him around the waist and hauled him, kicking and wiggling, to the bed, where he tossed him on his belly and delivered a resounding swat to his rear.

"A guy my age? I'll show you 'a guy my age'." He flipped his lover over on his back and descended on him, devouring his mouth with a hungry ardor. Hands worked to free Blair's t-shirt from his sweatpants, large hands skimming up to his chest, tweaking at the hardening little nubs that lurked in their nest of hair.

Blair let go of Jim's shoulders and stretched his arms over his head so Jim could pull the t-shirt off easily. Once freed of his own shirt, he started fumbling with the buttons of Jim's shirt, trying to get around the head that was moving about his torso, planting hot, wet kissed wherever it could reach. Jim's hands were under Blair now, pulling the smaller man tightly against him.

"Here, let me help with that," Jim stated, letting go of Blair and grasping his own shirt with both hands. He proceeded to rip it apart, sending buttons in all directions and then yanked it off and tossed it in the corner. He stripped off his t-shirt just as eagerly and sent it to join the ill-fated sport shirt. He pounced on Blair again, pressing their chests tightly together as their lips met even more ardently than before.

Jim didn't interfere with Blair's nimble fingers as they unfastened his belt and opened his jeans. He did assist in the process of kicking them off, as Blair started pushing his boxers down over his hips. Somehow managing to keep their lips locked together, tongues dueling, they'd gotten Jim naked. Grasping the soft elastic in the waistband of Blair's sweats, they came down and were easily kicked aside in a couple of fluid motions.

Blair assertively moved his arms up between their bodies so he could reach Jim's own highly sensitive nipples and began exciting them in earnest, finally pulling his lips away from Jim's to put his mouth to better use.

"Your mouth oughtta be registered as a lethal weapon, Chief," Jim gasped as he carded his fingers through the silky curls that obscured most of Blair's face as he sweetly tortured each pink protrusion. That earned him a pause and an evil little smile from his lover. He took the opportunity to take Blair's face gently in both hands. "But tonight, it's your turn. I'm driving." He quickly flipped them over so Blair was trapped beneath him. Strong legs came around his waist and locked in the small of his back, thrusting their arousals together. "I thought...ugh...I said...I...was dr-driving....ooohhh, yeah." Jim was rocking in rhythm with Blair, groaning at the torturous friction.

"You...drive...I'll...oh, man...yeah...harder...uh, navigate."

Jim silenced his partner with his mouth, hot tongues dueling in imitation of what their bodies were doing to each other. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jim recalled the last time they'd just settled for humping together, lying in a pile of fallen leaves in their clearing. As he nibbled his way down Blair's jaw to his throat, inhaling his lover's scent mingled with the clean, herbal scent of his shampoo, he remembered how beautiful Blair had looked lying among those vibrant autumn leaves. And he remembered how he'd looked on the blanket in their clearing, on his knees and open for Jim.

Less erotic images started swirling around Jim's heart, carried on a wave of love so strong it overwhelmed him. Blair kneeling on the floor, holding Jim while he grieved for something undefinable...for his father, for his mother, for the parental relationship he wished he'd had. Or Blair sitting on the fence around the paddock, smiling as Jim approached on horseback, looking at him with all the love in the world. His deceptively small Blair telling off a six-foot-four Donald in a room full of pissed off Ellisons...

"Jim? Jim, are you okay?" Blair's legs were no longer clamped around him, and his gentle hands were now encouraging Jim to come out of his hiding place in the curve of the smaller man's neck. He smiled softly as his face was held gently in Blair's hands. "Thought you zoned out on me for a minute there."

"I did...but like a normal person zones, sweetheart, not a sentinel. I zoned out on how much I love you." He captured one of the hands with his, and moving it from his face, kissed the palm, then leaned in to bring their lips together, gently this time.

"I really want to feel you inside me, lover," Blair said softly, stroking a hand back through Jim's hair.

"Can we do that with you on top? I want to watch you," Jim whispered hotly against Blair's ear.

"You're driving, remember?" Blair smiled. "We do whatever you say."

"No. Never. We do what we agree on. Remember?"

"I wonder if anyone else knows that under all these layers of hard muscles," Blair began, stroking both powerful shoulders and arms gently, "beats a heart of pure marshmallow."

"Yeah, well, I have a soft spot for sexy little guys with long hair and cute butts."

"Oh-oh. So if another one shows up, I better get ready to defend my territory, huh?"

"Nah. Why would l waste my time looking at hamburger when I've got filet mignon at home?" Jim pushed a lock of hair off Blair's forehead. "I can't even see anybody else, baby." He gathered Blair in his arms and turned them over again, loving the feeling of Blair's legs dropping to either side of him. Blair straightned and rose, so he was straddling Jim's hips, the hot flesh between his legs settled over Jim's own aching groin. "Need to get you ready," Jim panted, taking in the intoxicating sight of his aroused lover, legs spread, a few curls sticking to his face in damp ringlets.

Blair moved off his lover momentarily, snagging the lube from the drawer of the night table, where he'd put it earlier. He handed it to Jim, who had pulled himself into a relclining seated position against pillows mounded between himself and the heavy wooden headboard. Blair turned around on his hands and knees, straddling Jim again, but this time presenting himself for Jim to prepare him.

Jim never got over the initial jolt of passion that coursed through him when Blair knelt in front of him that way. There was still an underlying thrill to think that no one else had ever seen Blair this way, and no one else ever would. Jim leaned forward and began slowly kissing one rounded cheek. Blair purred a little and wriggled, lowering his elbows to the mattress. Jim set about making love to this very private area of his lover's body. He bathed the cheeks with his lips and tongue, reached underneath to knead the heavy sac there, loving the little cry of pleasure it dragged out of Blair. Judging by the thudding of that beloved heart and Blair's ragged breathing, Jim decided it was time to start preparing him if they were going to reach their peaks together.

Blair grasped the sheets in white-knuckled clutches, trying to hold his climax at bay as Jim carefully stretched and coated his center. He knew he'd never find words to define what he felt for Jim. Love wasn't anywhere near enough. He'd loved other people in his life, met women he'd thought were perfect for him. At the time, that had been love, or what society defines that way. But it was only a tiny scratch on the surface of what he felt for Jim. Those feelings were so deep it was frightening. And when they made love, it was like falling into an abyss together, because his usually level-headed lover was just as overwhelmed with the depth of his own feelings as Blair was with his.

Thoughts shattered as Jim began purposefully thrusting first one, then two, and finally three fingers into Blair's well-lubricated passage. Blair began to rock in tempo with the thrusting of Jim's fingers, crying out when his prostate was brushed maddeningly.

Jim was intent on preparing him, not bringing about what promised to be an epic orgasm with just his fingers. He withdrew the invaders and smiled at Blair's disappointed whimper.

"Here," Jim said softly, handing Blair the tube. Blair straightened a bit and, still panting with his own excitement, coated Jim's straining shaft with the lubricant. Tossing the tube aside, he repositioned himself facing Jim, still on his knees. He lunged forward to shared a prolonged kiss.

"Love you," he whispered against Jim's mouth.

"Slow and easy, sweetheart," Jim warned, gripping Blair's waist as he began lowering himself on Jim's length. The tight heat surrounding Jim's almost painful arousal took his breath away. Blair gasped and moaned a little, like he always did as Jim was sheathed to the hilt inside his body. They waited, finally grasping hands and lacing fingers, while Blair's body adjusted to its visitor.

Then Blair began rocking, riding the hard column impaling him. The intensity was almost too much, and Blair threw his head back, groaning out his pleasure which teetered on the edge of pain. Seeking his own satisfaction, and knowing how Jim loved this, he started putting on a show for his lover. He sped up his movements, genuinely crying out at the stimulation, freeing his hand to begin stroking himself in tempo. Jim brushed the hand away and took over that job himself, panting and grunting out the waves of pleasure shooting through his groin from the sweet tight prison holding his cock.

Now Blair was raising up and coming back down, almost all the way out and then back in to the hilt. Jim tried to clear his foggy senses long enough to take in the sight of Blair, face flushed, sweat-dampened hair swinging in rhythm with their movements, brows knit, those full lips parted with the moans of his pleasure...

Blair's muscles spasmed, tightening their hold on Jim as the engorged shaft in Jim's hand spurted and gushed its completion over his chest and belly. As Blair became more languid, Jim picked up the pace of his own thrusting, taking the reins from his sated lover and driving himself to his own completion, finally letting Blair drop forward onto his chest in a sweaty, spent heap and cuddling the smaller body in his arms as they remained joined, exchanging a few lazy kisses. Remembering Blair's unanswered declaration of love before they began, Jim paused in their kissing to rub noses with his partner.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He carefully eased himself out of Blair, noting the little grunt from his lover. "You okay, baby?"

"Beyond okay. Oh, man...that was...wow."

"That says it." Jim smiled and groped for the covers, pulling them over their cooling bodies. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

"You're the one with the killer body, man," Blair murmured drowsily.

"Should we declare it a tie?" Jim asked, sleepily nipping at a nearby ear. Blair found the strength to chortle a little.

"Works for me," he replied, just before dozing off to sleep.

The austere brick Victorian home with its rich woodwork and high ceilings seemed as warmed by Blair's presence and Jim was himself. As he had done in the loft, Blair turned the cavernous house into a home, defying convention by adding some of their favorite accessories in the most unlikely places, putting the throws that had been on the backs of the couches in the loft neatly folded at the ends of couches in the library and the rec room, and importing a great number of leafy green house plants. Tasteful rugs accented the entry hall (this having been inspired by two different slipping episodes that had left a stocking-footed Blair on his rear end on the unforgiving floor), and many of the dark, oppressive wall coverings were replaced with something lighter.

Blair researched the project of turning the Ellison mansion into a warm, welcoming home very carefully. He immersed himself in books on Victorian architecture and restoration. While this mansion had been flawlessly maintained and was far from needing anything resembling restoration, it certainly needed to lighted up a little. Blair did draw the line, however, at covering any of the remarkable woodwork with paint. He respected the house as a piece of history, and anything he would do would only lighten its mood.

Anna was a delighted partner in this project. Blair knew what he wanted to achieve, and Anna had a flair for decorating that could make it happen. She gleefully accepted many days off to go shop for wallpaper or window trimmings while Blair began to devote his time again to another writing project.

Both Jim and Blair seemed to gravitate to the library in the evenings, happy to snuggle on the comfortable couch and watch the TV they'd moved in there.

By the time Christmas season was underway, life on the estate had taken on a sort of comfortable routine. Those at the precinct who had seen fit to make remarks about Jim being the "lord of the manor" had tired of it, and their friends had enjoyed many pleasant weekends riding horseback, fishing in the pond or just getting together for a rip-roaring game of pool in the rec room.

Amanda Holden Ellison still held court in the living room, fresh roses in a large vase beneath her portrait at Blair's instruction. If Jim found his lover's affinity with his mother's apparently lingering spirit curious, he made no comment on it. Amanda had reached out and touched Blair from the other side, and in doing so had resolved many old turmoils in Jim's mind. Most importantly, while she had guided Blair to achieve her goals, she had broken through the barrier of death to save his life. The way Blair sometimes looked at that portrait, as if he were having eye contact with Amanda, Jim felt that she must still, somehow, hover close by in their new home. It was a very warm and peaceful feeling.

On December 12th, Jim started out for work, leaving Blair to his mountain of notes for his current textbook project. He had mentioned to Blair that today would have been his mother's birthday, and they had agreed that she would have approved of the changes in the mansion. The small staff were more relaxed and casual, the oppressive darkness had been lifted in many of the large rooms, and the new memories of their life together and good times with friends were turning it into a home.

After Jim left, Blair started out himself. He drove into town and bought a dozen red roses, and then made his way to St. Anthony's Cemetery. Trudging through the already deep snow, he found the Ellison plot fairly easily. The tall, spire-like granite column towered over many of its neighbors. He spread the old sleeping bag he'd brought and then knelt on it, laying the roses at Amanda's headstone.

"Sorry, Amanda. I can't handle frozen knees even for you." He smiled at the contrast of the deep red flowers against the snow. They wouldn't survive there long, but judging by Amanda's apparent flair for the dramatic, he figured she'd appreciate the gesture. "I don't know why I came here. I don't really believe you're here. I feel you around so much more at the house, especially near your portrait. But I figure it's been a while since anyone's put flowers out here. Why is it easier to talk to someone who's gone when you come to their grave? I think that's nuts, really. Of course, I can't talk to you at home or either Jim or Anna would probably put me in the funny farm." He shifted to sit on the sleeping bag.

"I hope everything got resolved the way you hoped. You deserved so much more than what you had. Do you know that the name 'Amanda' means 'deserving of great love'? You sure had it from Jim, though. He still remembers bits and pieces. If he's like you, you must have been wonderful. I don't know why I feel this...connection to you even after everything's been resolved. Don't get me wrong--it's a nice feeling. Like we have a guardian angel. I want you to know you're welcome with us...and if you want to communicate with me, I'm not afraid. And I want you to know that I love Jim with all my heart, and I promise to never hurt him or leave him, unless I die, and then I don't plan to leave him anyway if there's any way I could stick around. I know he had some very lonely years after you died, but I just want you to know that he won't ever be lonely again, or second best, as long as I'm alive."

"Look at me. Making speeches to my mother-in-law in the cemetery." Blair stood and rolled up his sleeping bag. "Happy Birthday, Amanda. Thank you for sticking around to touch our lives." He smiled at the flowers there in the snow, and then started his trek across the white expanse to his car. He dumped the damp sleeping bag in the trunk and then opened the driver's door to get in the car. He froze when he glanced back at the rolling grounds of the cemetery.

A tall woman in a long dress stood near the Ellison plot, cradling the roses in her arms.

Blair was too far away to see her face, and he fumbled in his pocket for his glasses. When he put them on and squinted in the direction of the Ellison plot, he saw no one. The wind whistled through the pine trees, but to Blair's ears, it was a woman's sweet voice:

Just walk away Renee,

You won't see me follow you back home...

The sound faded with the dying of the wind. Blair slid into the seat of the car, closed the door, and started the engine. Glancing back toward Amanda's grave, he saw no one.

His hands shook slightly as he steered the car along the curving roads of the cemetery toward the main road.

"Blair! There you are!" Anna greeted him as he came in the back door, sniffing the rich scent of baking nut bread. "How about some cocoa? You look frozen, dear."

"Yeah, that'd be good." Blair sat at the kitchen table without removing anything but his boots.

"Where have you been? You're shivering like crazy."

"The cemetery." He watched as Anna paused in her preparations of the cocoa.

"What on earth for? It's a beastly cold day."

"It's Amanda's birthday."

"So it is," she commented, seeming surprised to have forgotten it herself. She dropped a spoon and it clattered loudly on the cupboard. "Sorry about that." She picked it up again.

"About what?"

"Oh, the spoon. I guess it's a habit to apologize--anytime I drop something like that and it makes a lot of noise. Ironically, it was Amanda I always used to apologize to. She'd be sitting right where you are now, and I'd drop something and the poor thing would almost jump out of her skin. She could never abide loud noises."

"Her hearing was ultra-sensitive?" Blair asked, his prior nervousness vanishing.

"I swear, that girl could hear me thinking!" She laughed fondly. "I remember one time when she had come down on one of the maids for doing a sloppy job on the centerpiece for the dining room table--Amanda was the ultimate hostess--and after she left the room and rejoined the guests, the girl called Amanda 'a domineering bitch' under her breath. I started to scold her, but before I got two words out, Amanda came whirling back into the kitchen, towered all 5'10'' over Lucy--the maid. Amanda explained that, being the domineering bitch that she was, she had returned to deliver Lucy's severance pay and her termination notice. Then, Amanda turned on her heel and strode back out to mingle with her guests." Anna chuckled a bit at the memory as she poured hot cocoa into two cups.

"So Amanda heard her out here in the kitchen when she was all the way out in, what, the living room?"

"She must not have gone as far as we thought--"

"But she heard and repeated exactly what Lucy said?"

"Yes. She definitely overheard it. How, I'll never know."

"Was it just her hearing?" Blair sipped the cocoa Anna handed him. "Thanks."

"Well, now that you mention it, she had a very acute sense of smell. Odors annoyed her to no end, and she could smell it when I took the bacon out of the refrigerator and would come downstairs for her morning coffee, explaining that she had smelled the bacon cooking. At that point, it was often still just sitting on the cupboard near the stove." Anna sat at the table with her own cocoa. She had learned that more often than not, if Blair lit in the kitchen, he wanted company. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Blair lied. "It just reminded me...you know, 'House of Usher' type stuff. Remember that story?"

"Heavens yes. I loved it. The film with Vincent Price was wonderful too. Roderick Usher had terribly acute senses, if I recall correctly. Poe was quite a writer."

"Yes, he was." Blair let the warmth of the drink thaw him out a bit.

"Planning what to get me for Christmas?" Jim came through the back door, much earlier than planned. Blair bolted out of the chair and greeted him with and enthusiastic hug, holding on a little longer than he normally did.

"Are you home to stay?" he asked, pulling back a little. Anna just smiled into her cocoa as she took another drink. Never terribly comfortable with the thought of men as lovers, she had been surprised by her own acceptance of this relationship from the start. Blair virtually burst with love and enthusiasm at the sight of Jim, and Jim lit up like Christmas itself every time he laid eyes on his energetic lover. No feeling that made two people that happy could be a bad thing.

"Well, I've got the day off because I have to fill in on a stakeout tonight. Thought maybe I could talk you into coming with me and keeping me company. Why are you shivering?"

"I was outside earlier. You know I hate the cold."

"Only too well." Jim kept an arm around Blair as he turned to Anna. "Mind if I borrow him for a while?"

"I have bread ready to come out of the oven anyway. I was just about to throw him out," she joked pleasantly, rising to check on her baking.

"Come on, Chief." Jim's voice dropped. "I'll warm you up."

Snuggled under the throw on the couch in the library, Jim stroked through the long, soft curls.

"Okay, sweetheart. Tell me what's really eating you."

"I went out to the cemetery today. I put flowers on Amanda's grave."

"That was a really nice thing to do." He kissed the top of Blair's head.

"I thought...I thought I saw her."

"My mother?" Jim sounded shocked, and understandably so. Blair nestled more tightly against Jim's chest.

"I told her I wouldn't be afraid if she wanted to communicate with me. Guess I lied. I wasn't afraid, really... Just shocked, I guess."

"Are you positive it was her? Where were you when you saw her?"

"By my car."

"Did you have your glasses on, baby? Things get a little blurry that far away, don't they?" Jim suggested gently.

"Yeah, and when I looked away to find my glasses, and then looked back, she was gone."

"I'm not saying you didn't see someone...or...I'm not even shutting the door that it was...my mother. But if it was blurry, couldn't it have been another woman? A lot of people are buried out there, Chief. It could have been another mourner."

"Yeah, I know it could have been."

"But you still think it was her."

"I don't know. I can't be sure." Blair let it go at that, taking solace in the shelter of the big arms around him.

"If it had been Amanda, would that have scared you?"

"No. I was just surprised is all. I was alone out there, and then suddenly, there she was. But I can't be sure it was anything more than another mourner."

"Does it bother you--feeling her presence like you do?"

"Uh-uh. She loved you, and I think she wants to be near you. For some reason, she seems to communicate with me. Maybe because I'm not as emotionally involved as you would be. I mean, I am because I love you and you loved her, but I can still be more objective."

"Mr. Objectivity who keeps fresh roses under her portrait, huh?" Jim cuddled his armload lovingly, to take any possible sting out of the words.

"I want her to feel welcome. And she was elegant and extravagant in life, so I figured doing something elegant and extravagant to honor her might make her feel more welcome, more inclined to stay."

"There's more." Jim rubbed Blair's back slowly. "You're still tensed up."

"It's something Anna told me." Blair paused, then raised up to have eye contact with Jim. "I think your mother had sentinel abilities too."

"Why?" Jim looked shocked, but listened patiently as Blair recounted the stories Anna had told him.

"I mean, that would certainly indicate at least two of her senses were heightened. Maybe the rest were too, and she just didn't say anything."

"Wow." Jim let out a long sigh as Blair lay his head back against his lover's chest. "So it's hereditary."

"Looks like it. Huh."

"That's it? 'Huh'?"

"You're my lover now, not my lab rat, remember? Yeah, it's just an interested 'huh'. It's a fascinating twist in my knowledge on sentinels."

"I wonder if that's how she knew it was Thorne who ran her off the road?"

"Her eyesight? Probably. Even on a dark, rainy night, she could mostly likely see him in the rearview mirror."

"Makes me feel like a little less of a freak of nature, in a way."

"You were never a freak of nature, lover. You're gifted."

"Yeah, with you. Shut up and kiss me, huh?" Jim smiled as Blair scooted up and complied happily. As he pulled back and settled on Jim's chest again, the detective reflected on the thought of his mother being a sentinel, having no guide, just dealing with her acute senses on her own. "No wonder she was restless."

"She was probably like, supermom. I mean, if she had hearing like yours, she probably heard you and Stephen every time you turned over in your sleep."

"I didn't remember this until just now, but it seems like whenever she came into my room at night, I was already awake. It was like she knew somehow..."

"Just like you know when I'm sleeping or awake or upset or whatever--she tuned in to your hearbeat, breathing, patterns of movement, and when something was a little off, she checked on it."

"Too bad she didn't run into somebody like you."

"I wonder if the way she's been able to reach out to me... I wonder if that means that you have a hyperactive sixth sense-- some kind of psychic ability we haven't found yet." Blair was raised up to look intently into Jim's eyes, wearing the expression he always did when he was playing the role of researcher.

"Nothing personal, Chief, but I'm not going to die just so we can test it."

"No, I mean, something we could tune into right now."

"You want to know something? I don't want to tune into it. Having five senses that tell me volumes more than I want to know 99% of the time is enough."

"I hear you." Blair reached up and stroked Jim's cheek. "I'm glad you came home today."

"So am I. Wanna put up the tree? We've been waiting for a free day to do the big one by the stairs. It's in a couple of huge boxes in the cellar."

"Cool! Man, that thing must be MASSIVE!" Blair was already up and heading for the door of the room before Jim could react quickly enough to steal another kiss.

"It is, Chief." Jim laughed a little as he followed his enthusiastic partner toward the cellar.

As they descended the main staircase and passed the doorway to the living room, Jim paused to look in at his mother's portrait. For just a moment, his acute sense of smell was teased with a wisp of Amanda's favorite perfume. He smiled knowingly at the beautiful female sentinel keeping watch over them from the portrait, and then hurried down the hall to keep up with his guide.