Through this world I've stumbled,
so many times betrayed,
Trying to find an honest word,
to find the truth enslaved.
Oh, you speak to me in riddles;
you speak to me in rhyme.
My body aches to breathe your breath,
your words keep me alive.
Sarah McLachlan
"Possession"
Silvery moonlight gently illuminated the room, revealing a semi-smile
on Blair's sensual lips. Jim memorized each curve and plane of his lover's
face and the sweep of impossibly thick lashes against his cheek. He took
careful measure of each feature and tucked them away for the future.
They'd loved long and hard into the early morning hours and he knew
he had exhausted the younger man. He'd done his best; hiding the razor-edge
of his fear behind loving touches and fevered demands. With a tired sigh
and a stretch that popped the joints and tendons of his long back, Jim
carefully slipped out from under the covers. He ignored his bathrobe, enjoying
the cool touch of the night air on his overheated flesh.
Moving with a feline grace that echoed the panther within, he padded
quietly down the stairs to stand at his favorite spot by the balcony windows.
He was too keyed up to sleep had not really slept well in weeks. Blair
hadn't noticed. Thank God.
He ached with fatigue, every muscle and joint reminding him pointedly
of his age, but it was worth it to know that he was keeping his younger
lover satiated; submerged so far into a haze of sensual euphoria that Blair
dropped into an exhausted slumber every night. It was a brutal pace, but
one that he would gladly continue if that was all it took to keep Blair
by his side. Jim grimaced, wondering if his almost middle-aged body would
last until it didn't matter any more.
There was a time when he would never have questioned his ability
to attract or satisfy a lover. A time before the passing years made it
increasingly hard to maintain his trademark physique, before he noticed
the extra hair in his brush every morning. This was long before he married
a woman he thought adored him, only to watch with bewilderment as she grew
unheeding of his affection and indifferent to his touch.
He had never needed Carolyn or anyone as much as he needed Blair.
At a point in his life when he had begun to doubt if he would ever experience
the depth of feeling others came by so easily, he'd fallen hard for his
best friend and partner. As his love and need for Blair reverberated though
him, an equally overpowering fear grew apace.
How long? How long would it be until someone younger, smarter, more
of everything Blair needed came between them? Someone who could give him
the home and little Sandburgs he deserved. It was only a matter of time.
Blair cared for him. He had even closed the revolving door of his love
life for the time being. For now, but not forever and not with Jim.
Watching the drizzle stream down the window panes, Jim wondered how
long it had taken Carolyn to discover he was incapable of giving her what
she wanted. The rain reminded him of that last despairing kiss, when he'd
been so frightened, so desperate for comfort. Her taunting words haunted
him. If he'd kissed her like that when they were married... Like what?
So frightened he was out of his mind? What had she needed from him that
he had never fully understood, didn't have to give?
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes and tried to
fight off the beginnings of a throbbing headache. A throwback to a pre-civilized
breed of man how often had he heard similar words? All his life he'd been
out of step, not quite able to make the kinds of emotional connections
that others did, until now.
Christ, even his own father knew he was a freak. Jim rested his forehead
on the cool pane of glass, letting it soothe away his painful thoughts.
A noise at the top of the stairs startled him. Had he zoned again?
He had been experiencing mild zone-outs for the past few weeks, carefully
hiding them from his Guide. What would Blair make of the fact that the
problem had started at almost the same time as they had become lovers?
"Jim, what're you doin'?" Blair whispered, his voice thick and rough
with sleep.
"Nothing, Chief, just had to stretch for a bit. Go back to sleep,
I'll be right up."
There was a long pause, a sleepy sigh, and then the sound of those
beloved footsteps retreating toward the bed. As Blair climbed back under
the covers, he murmured, "Come to bed, Jim. It's cold here without you."
How had Blair ever managed to sleep alone, even cocooned in the odd
layers of sweats and t-shirts he wore to bed? Chuckling softly, Jim shook
his head. If nothing else he made one hell of a hot water bottle, keeping
his lover warm enough to sleep nude on even the coldest of nights. He'd
made short work of all those layers right from the beginning, craving the
touch of skin on skin.
Jim hurried to warm the chilled form nestled beneath the blankets,
taking the stairs two at a time. Tucking the covers even more tightly around
his dozing lover, he wrapped his arms around the cherished body. "Night,
Chief."
"Night, Jim," came the drowsy reply as Blair snuggled into the curve
of his body.
Brilliant sunlight burned though his closed eyelids. Blair stretched
languidly while the annoying buzz in his head slowly formed into complete
thoughts. Man, he was sore! He stretched cautiously, careful of tender,
overtaxed muscles.
Based on his careful observations over the past three years, Blair
had assumed Jim's sex drive was much less intense than his own. He snorted
at the faulty conclusion. His amazingly randy lover could go at it for
hours.
Lately he woke up every morning feeling as if he had barely slept
at all. It was the strangest thing; he'd always been too hyper to sleep
more than a few hours a night. Last weekend he'd crashed and burned, out
like the dead for almost ten hours. If Jim hadn't pounced on him, who knew
how long he would have slept?
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, he leaped from the bed.
"Shit! Oh, shit! Man, Jim, why didn't you wake me up?" Only silence answered
him. He leaned over the railing to look out over the empty loft. Jumping
out of bed, he dove into the closet and rummaged for something to wear.
Tossing jeans and a favorite shirt onto the bed, he scrounged through the
dresser for the rest.
"I can't afford to be late again, damn it!" he grumbled under his
breath. Hopping from foot to foot, he pulled on his socks. "Damn you, Jim.
How can you just let me sleep when you know I have early classes? Why the
hell did I let you keep me up half the night again? How the hell do you
manage to wake up for work...and how did I sleep through you leaving?"
Tripping himself while fumbling into his jeans, Blair landed with
a solid thunk on the floor. Groaning with frustration, he found himself
wanting nothing more than to throw himself face down, kicking and howling
in a childish tantrum. Realizing how out of control he was becoming, he
took a deep breath and forced himself to slow down.
Once dressed, he took a speedy if perfunctory shot at his usual morning
ablutions, deciding to skip shaving even if he did end up looking scruffy.
With a longing glance at the unused shower, he darted out of the bathroom.
In his headlong rush to the door, he almost missed the note folded on the
counter, but the bright white paper caught his eye.
Blair,
The U called -- a broken water main fried the electrical systems
on all over the campus, including Hargrove Hall. Your morning classes are
canceled. Enjoy your free time.
J.
"Free time! Like, what free time? Man, you just have no idea."
Blair crumpled the note and struggled to change gears, trying to decide
which impending deadline he should work on first. All he could think of
was how great it would be to crawl up the stairs and back into the warm
bed waiting at the top.
When had he ever been this tired? It didn't make any sense. Here
he was after three years of unbearable longing and waiting and wanting,
finally ending up in the arms of the man he loved. As glorious as loving
his Sentinel was, the spontaneous combustion between them left his energy
in ashes. He should be out of his mind with joy, yet all he felt was overwhelming
exhaustion.
Maybe tonight he could entice Jim into taking things easy. How long
had it been since they'd gone out for a meal or just cuddled on the couch?
With a heartfelt sigh, Blair gathered up a teetering pile of papers
from his old room and spread them out on the table. Unfolding his laptop,
he switched it on, then slipped on his glasses and went to work.
The gym was quiet this late in the afternoon, just the way Jim liked
it. He was bone weary and didn't feel like doing any lifting today, but
years of discipline won out over his desire to pack it in and go home to
vegetate.
After his warm up, Jim grabbed a weight bench and started working
on presses, giving himself over to the comfort of mindlessly counting the
reps in each set. He worked through his routine and soon the burn of his
muscles being pushed to maximum erased all thought of his earlier fatigue.
Jim absently noticed that the place had cleared out completely, leaving
him alone with the sole exception of a rookie he'd seen around a lot lately.
The kid was very earnest and very young. Out of the corner of his eye,
he caught the rookie glancing over at him time and again. He wasn't surprised
when the young man wandered over and began talking to him.
"Hey, Jim. How's it going?"
Lowering the bar, Jim sat up and grabbed his towel, mopping the sweat
off his face. "Not bad. What are you doing here this time of day?"
"I was working swings, but I volunteered to do a double shift and
got today off."
"So this is how you spend an unexpected day off?"
The young cop grinned. "I've got to stay in shape if I'm ever gonna
be in your class."
Laughing softly at the rookie's comment, Jim suspected the kid was
working on a case of hero worship. The thought warmed him. Before Blair
had entered his life, the nuances in the younger man's regard might have
sailed right past him. Now that he had begun to open up to his Guide, he
found himself becoming more aware of the emotions of those around him.
Grinning kindly, he offered, "Would you like me to spot for you,
Chief?"
The young man's eyes lit up. "Sure, Ellison." He quietly added, "And
the name's Mitch Anderson."
Jim chuckled, realizing he'd been busted for forgetting the kid's
name. He gave the young man a wide smile as he took his position by the
heavy, weighted bar. They bantered back and forth about the merits of their
respective routines as he watched the seemingly effortless movements of
the rookie with appreciation. He knew just how hard it was to achieve that
level of strength and endurance. Jim admired the kid's commitment to staying
fit. Mitch wasn't going to turn into one of those cops better acquainted
with donuts and coffee shops than gyms.
The two men continued talking and joking in comfortable camaraderie
as they worked out. Mitch had a quirky sense of humor and he had Jim laughing
hard over the tales of some of his 'interesting' adventures during his
first days on the force. The laughter was restorative and a enormous relief
after the past weeks of quietly hidden desperation.
Jim couldn't resist telling a few stories of his own more outrageous
rookie escapades. For the first time in ages he didn't feel old, tired
and frazzled. Just for an instant, he thought wistfully of Blair it seemed
like it had been a long time since they had shared this kind of laughter.
Finishing up and heading for the shower, Jim reached out and patted
Mitch's cheeks. "You're doing fine, kid. You're going to be one heck of
a cop."
Mitch grinned and playfully slugged Jim on the shoulder. "You know
it." Tapping Jim's hard, flat stomach, he added, "You're not too bad yourself...for
an old dude."
The two men engaged in a moment's mock boxing, until the rookie left
himself open and Jim lightly clipped him on the jaw. Mitch threw up his
arms in defeat and the two men made their way to the locker room, sparring
and laughing all the way.
Blair bounced down the hall, eager to surprise his lover by making
a rare appearance at the gym. A workout would feel good after spending
the unexpected morning off on paperwork. The electrical problems at the
U had only worsened and a harried phone call from his department head's
secretary had advised him his afternoon class was canceled as well. There
were a million things he should have been doing this afternoon, but he
couldn't resist the opportunity to spend some time with Jim.
Blair frowned. Just how long had it been since he and Jim had done
anything together outside of work? Something about that nagged at him,
but before he could put a finger on it, he caught sight of his Sentinel.
Pausing at the open double doors, he let himself drink in the beauty of
the powerful arms, moving fluidly through each lift.
He loved having a chance to watch Jim unnoticed. Living with a Sentinel
had its drawbacks; the rarity of opportunities to ogle his lover without
being caught in the act was one of them. And what an opportunity this was,
Jim's tank top clung to his sweat damp-chest, his muscles flexing and gleaming
under the harsh lights.
The heady scent of sweat and musk permeated the air, along with the
faint sounds of Jim's deep breathing. The heavily weighted bar rose and
fell with a steady, rhythmic cadence. Bombarded by the intoxicating sight
and sounds, Blair felt himself growing almost light headed. A tingle of
excitement cascaded down his spine and wrapped itself around his groin.
Standing silently in the shadowed entrance, he fidgeted, one hand furtively
slipping to his crotch to adjust his hardening cock in suddenly too tight
jeans.
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and
he watched as another man approached Jim. The guy was huge, easily as tall
as Simon and more muscular, one of those depressingly beautiful Nordic
blonds. The admiration on the younger man's face was easy to see. Blair
felt the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to stand on end.
Without conscious thought, he faded further back into the darkened
hall, straining to hear their conversation. He could make out very little
of what they were saying, until the last few words, "...for you, Chief?"
Blair felt the words drop on him like bricks, driving the breath
out of him. Jim was smiling almost beaming at the interloper! His eyes
rounded with amazement as he watched the easy interaction between the two.
Blair struggled to hear more, but couldn't quite make out the rest of the
conversation.
Who was this guy? How did Jim know him? Searching his memory, Blair
snatched at a brief image of the younger man in uniform and guessed that
he must be one of the latest batch of academy graduates.
Fighting to control his ragged breathing, Blair made up his mind
to stop lurking and break up the little tete-a-tete. Firmly telling himself
he was overreacting, he hesitated as the two men began talking again. There
was no mistaking the leer the blond gave Jim's firmly muscled ass when
he bent over to pick up a pair of dumbbells.
Balling his hands into angry fists, Blair swallowed his rapidly burgeoning
rage as Jim and the younger man laughed together at a shared joke. Every
gaze between them cut like a knife. Blair's breathing became ragged as
he watched Jim reach out and pat the younger man's face. His heart thudded
painfully in his chest as he watched the young blond touching Jim in return.
Finally, the two headed off toward the locker room, dodging and ducking
as they shadow boxed with one another. With a choked back exclamation,
Blair fled down the hall and out of the building.
Hours later, Blair found himself pacing his darkened office. The
power had been restored, but he felt oddly comforted by the dim room. With
characteristic nervous energy, he flitted from place to place, absentmindedly
fingering dusty artifacts and thumbing through files, his jerky movements
reflecting his chaotic thoughts.
Blair tried to convince himself he was obsessing over nothing. It
had to be that the moon was in the wrong phase, or his biorhythms were
out of whack. It was so not like him to fixate on something like this,
to be so jealous and suspicious. He took a series of deep, cleansing breaths,
murmuring to himself to let it go and find his center.
All his life Blair had been searching for something. From the moment
he first met the agitated, frightened man, something inside him finally
found peace. He had walked into a hospital exam room to confront the object
of his studies, only to be floored when a raw desire he'd never before
experience flamed into life. And he had known without doubt that this was
what he was had been seeking. The electricity of Jim's first touch was
stunning, erasing all fear, even when it seemed the angry Sentinel was
determined to push him through a wall.
It had taken almost three years for their partnership to finally
reach consummation. Three years of charged touches, heated looks and finally,
a preternatural emotional link that drove them together.
It was the culmination of all his secret hopes and dreams. He was
sure Jim felt it, too, he had to feel the rightness of their growing bond.
Why else would the man be so fucking insatiable? How could he have the
desire or the energy to turn to someone else?
Blair lurched to the chair at his desk and slowly sank down in it.
Resting his forehead on his arms, he closed his eyes, only to wrench them
open again. Seared into his retinas was the image of Jim and the young
blond giant.
It was an image he couldn't shake; how stunning they were together,
how their muscular bodies were a perfect complement to one another. Two
flawless specimens, well matched in size and strength and beauty. Ringing
in his ears was the gentle tone of Jim's voice as he called the other man
'Chief.'
Blair's life and relationships had been a never-ending kaleidoscope
of change. Discovery and change were what he lived for. He'd always taken
what was offered for the time it was offered and been happy. He hadn't
known that what he was longing for was the elusiveness of security. He
hadn't recognized that he needed something that was meant to last forever.
"Oh, God, what am I going to do?"
Muttering to himself, Jim paced the loft. "I can't believe he hasn't
called."
At seven, he'd been annoyed that Blair hadn't let him know he was
going to be late. At seven-thirty, he'd begun to worry, pacing back and
forth between the windows and the phone. At eight, he had swallowed his
pride and tried calling Blair, only to find there was no answer on his
cell or at his office. Now it was almost nine and he was nearly frantic,
calling every number he could think of and finding no clues to his lover's
whereabouts.
"Where the hell are you, Chief?" Running nervous, shaking hands through
his hair, Jim strode determinedly to the phone again. Hitting the speed
dial for Blair's cell, he got the same endless ringing he'd heard all evening.
He tried Blair's office again and still got no answer. Jim racked his brain,
trying to think of which friends he had forgotten to call.
He didn't know what to do. If he went looking there was always a
chance he might miss Blair's call. The thought of the younger man in trouble
and unable to contact him frightened Jim into inaction.
"Damn you, Sandburg! Where are you? What is it this time, another
co-ed with the hots for her neo-hippie professor?"
The muscles in Jim's jaw twitched as he ground his teeth in frustration.
With an exasperated growl, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.
At the top of the stairs, he cocked his head, hearing the Volvo pulling
into its space outside.
By the time Blair reached the loft, Jim was seated on the couch with
the tv on and the remote in his hand. He had his long legs stretched out
in front of him and a cold bottle of beer sweating in his hand, looking
as if he'd been camped out there all evening, watching the tube without
a care in the world.
Blair hesitated, obviously searching for a suitable excuse. "Jim,
man, sorry I didn't call, I just lost all track of time."
It wasn't an unlikely story. Blair frequently got so submerged in
his studies he was lost to the world around him. It was oddly uncreative,
which was unsettling. Jim knew that Blair, the master of obfuscation was
floundering heavily for the right excuse. Seeing the apprehension and doubt
on his lover's face, Jim swallowed hard. He schooled his face into its
long accustomed, expressionless mask and cut in before Blair could continue.
"Don't worry about it, Sandburg, we didn't have anything planned."
Toying with the remote, he flipped through the channels, finally settling
on a game he had no interest in watching.
The unnatural silence stretched out between them. Angry questions
burned on his tongue as he felt Blair's gaze boring into the back of his
head. Every muscle ached with the tension of holding himself still. Jim
forced himself not to scent the air for the smell of where Blair had been,
of who he had been with. His head pounded with a rage that begged for release.
He couldn't say anything. Once the Pandora's box of his anger was
opened, he wouldn't have any control over what he would say. He forced
himself be silent and pretend that he didn't know that any moment the world
was going to come crashing down around him. And this time, he wouldn't
be able to pick up the pieces.
Blair hung up his coat and stared hard at his lover. No greeting,
no hug, no movement from his Sentinel at all. Just the revealing tightening
of the jaw telling him louder than words that Jim was pissed. Why can't
he just say something? Blair found himself wanting to push at Jim, wanting
to make him blow up.
The moment when he could have gone to Jim, embraced him, and pretended
that everything was okay had passed. The jealousy and guilt torturing his
guts wouldn't allow him to join his lover on the couch. Blair opened his
laptop and laid out his notes on the dining table. Sighing softly, he began
to work on his latest grant proposal. Unable to concentrate, he stared
at the back of Jim's head, willing him to say something wanting desperately
to relax, talk this out and force all the worries and doubts from his mind.
"So, how'd things go down at the station today? Anything interesting
come up?" His voice sounded stilted and artificially calm, but at least
it broke the tense silence between them.
"Nothing new, Chief, just reports. I was chained to the desk all
day." Jim's reply was clipped.
"Sorry I didn't come give you a hand. I was kind of swamped this
afternoon."
"It's okay, kid, I had it covered. Did you get anything to eat tonight?"
Kid... Man, he hated it when Jim called him that and Jim damn well
knew it. What was going on in that beautiful head, anyway?
"I grabbed a sandwich on campus. I wasn't very hungry."
Jim nodded, grunting something that could have been agreement and
turned back to the television.
"Are you just pissed that I'm late, or is it something else? I don't
have to account to you for my time and I don't deserve the silent treatment."
The resentful words tumbled out before Blair even felt them forming.
Jim slowly swivelled around to look at him again. Seeing the frost
in the glacial blue gaze, Blair felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew
better than to taunt the man when he was in this mood.
"If you didn't have a way of attracting every murdering psychotic
in the city, I wouldn't have to worry. If you'd had enough courtesy to
call and tell me you'd be late, I wouldn't have had to wonder if you were
hurt or in trouble. Obviously, none of this ever occurred to you."
Blair stiffened with outrage. Jim was such an asshole! No, he wasn't
Mr. Clean-cut All American Boy Cop, but he wasn't a doormat, either. "Damn
it! That was nasty and unfair."
"Fair? What is it with you and fair, Sandburg? Fair isn't what's
needed here. How about responsible? How about considerate?"
Blair flinched at the harsh words. "I don't play these kind of games,
Jim. You want to fight dirty, then find someone else to play with. I'm
sorry I was late and I didn't call. If you have a problem with that, you
can find a better way of saying it."
Silence and a carefully schooled blank stare was Jim's only reply.
Blair closed his laptop with a snap. "I am so out of here."
He waited for Jim to stop him, to say something, but the older man
only turned his back on him again. Caught up in his own careening emotions,
he missed the clenched fists and hard shudder that jolted through the powerful
body.
Blair rose stiffly from the table. He gathered up his papers and
began loading everything into his backpack. Without another word, he swung
the
pack onto his shoulder and headed to the door, stopping for his jacket.
Looking back over his shoulder, he saw that Jim had risen. The Sentinel
was standing still as death, looking at him with a mixture of rage and
grief on his face. Blair paused for a moment, pleading silently for Jim
to say something, anything that would let him know that leaving was the
wrong thing to do. The silence extended while Jim remained rigidly silent.
With a furious flip of his shoulder, Blair grabbed his jacket and headed
out the door.
If Blair had lingered a moment longer, he would have seen terror
on Jim's face. He would have been there to catch him when the overwhelming
emotion drove Jim to his knees.
The sagging couch in his office was a lousy place to sleep, not that
he was getting any. Instead he tossed and turned, wondering how in the
space of less than twenty-four hours, his life had gone to hell....
Why was he obsessed with the thought that Jim was attracted to someone
else? Wasn't it the Sentinel's compulsion to be the territorial one in
the partnership? Just once, it would have been nice to be able to sit down
and talk through his doubts with the tough guy. The problem was that he
couldn't talk to Jim about his feelings. No, that wasn't true, he could
rattle on about his feelings for hours, he just couldn't expect Jim to
reciprocate.
Rolling over again, he pummeled the pillow, taking his frustration
out on it. Giving up on finding a comfortable position, Blair stood up
and began pacing. How could he sleep when all he wanted to do was scream?
What would he do if tonight's argument was the beginning of the end
of their relationship? Blair tried to recapture a few of his old visions
for the future, dusting them off like antiquated reference books. There
was nothing there that moved him, nothing that he wanted more than a lifetime
spent with his Sentinel.
Their bond was crumbling and he didn't know how to shore it up. Blair
didn't have a clue how he was going to continue to fit into Jim's world
in the long term. They had never discussed the future, not even on that
first night when a relieved and jubilant hug over surviving another spectacular
disaster had turned to something else.
He smiled sadly, remembering that first night. When he had tried
to pull away from Jim's embrace, he'd realized the comforting arms wrapped
around him had turned into bands of steel. The hands that had been pounding
him on the back were now buried in his hair. Looking up into the blazing
passion in the eyes of his Sentinel, he'd been lost. Trapped by that gaze,
Blair could no more have refused the joining of their lips than he could
have sprouted wings and flown.
Blair wrapped his arms tightly around himself as he lost himself
in sweet remembrance. Incendiary was the only way to describe what followed
the kiss. Clothes were flung away as their bodies suddenly became too heated
to bear the weight of the fabric. Somewhere in the far recesses of his
mind, Blair had felt a frisson of doubt, a tiny little quiver of fear of
the unknown. The moment came and went so swiftly he barely had time to
acknowledge it. He placed his complete trust in Jim.
He ran his hands through his hair with a half-stifled moan. He'd
trusted Jim then, why couldn't see his way clear to trusting him now? Even
with all of his anxiety and inexperience with the sexual part of their
relationship, he hadn't been as frightened as he was now.
Blair had known about Jim's eclectic sexual history. He wasn't surprised
by the discovery, because he'd read between the lines enough in the research
he'd done to understand that along with the genetic code that made a Sentinel
came a predisposition for bisexuality. He'd just never thought about what
Jim's bisexuality might mean to him. For the first time in his life, he
had found himself in love with another man and it scared him to death.
The wonderful, gentle way Jim had led him through the first throes
of passion into a world made delicious by incredible, inexhaustible sex
was completely unexpected. It was so much more than he had hoped for, had
ever had the courage to wish for. And somehow, so much less....
Blair heaved a sigh and gave up on sleep entirely. He wouldn't be
able to sleep until he understood how things had gone so wrong. He curled
up on the couch again and tried to center himself enough to meditate.
In the wee hours of the morning, it finally came to him. Why their
newfound relationship seemed to stand on shaky legs. Not once between them
had they ever mentioned the 'L' word. Why hadn't he admitted what was in
his heart?
Why had he walked out instead of telling Jim about the doubts and
insecurities that plagued him? It wasn't like he didn't know how to push
his reticent lover's buttons. So why hadn't he forced Jim to talk this
out?
The questions spun themselves round and round in his overtired brain.
Above almost everything else he admired about Jim was his forthright honesty.
He had the terrible feeling he had stormed out of the loft in a foolish
attempt to force Jim into making a declaration. Blair groaned as he faced
the bitter truth; he had tried manipulation because he was too frightened
to be honest himself.
The impact of his head hitting the desk jerked him awake. There was
just no way he was going to make it through his office hours this morning.
Blair's back and neck were knotted with cramps. All he wanted to do was
to go home, snuggle into bed with his lover and sleep.
Blair was startled out of his reverie by a light tap on his office
door. It swung open a few inches and an elfin face appeared.
"Blair, hi! Have you got a minute to talk?" Erica smiled at him,
her bright eyes wide and friendly. Behind her, he could see Jack and Suzanne.
Blair sighed inwardly the TAs were good friends; normally, he welcomed
their presence. Today, he just wasn't in any kind of shape for conversation.
"Sure, come on in." He tried to look encouraging, but even attempting to
smile was painful.
After chatting a while, Blair found his burdens easing just a bit.
He was still haunted by the events and revelations of the night before,
but the easy rapport with his friends was a comfort. It had been too long
since he'd spent time with them. Soon he found himself laughing over a
wild story of Jack's, complete with a ribald impersonation of their least
favorite professor.
In a more positive mood, Blair made up his mind that he wasn't going
to let go of Jim without a fight. What they had was too important, he wasn't
going to run away. He'd finish what he had to do this morning, catch a
nap, get through his afternoon class and then go home to confront his reticent
lover with the honest truth.
Jim walked down the hall, his normally long and decisive stride reduced
to a hesitant shuffle. There was no use trying to deny his dread. His stomach
was churning with tension. Blair had walked out on him, the way he'd always
known he would.
He wasn't going to give up. The tortuous night alone had convinced
him that it was time to set things right. Blair was more precious to him
than life Jim knew he had to make himself express that to his partner.
Squaring his shoulders, he took the final turn in the hallway that led
to Blair's office.
Through the frosted glass of the door he could see that Blair wasn't
alone. A deep vibrating thumping told him that the 'war chant of the Yanamamo
Headhunters was finding its echoes in the cellars of Seattle.' Jim paused,
unsure whether to continue down the hallway or wait. Without conscious
thought, he reached out with his hearing, piggybacking it to his sight
in the way he had been taught.
The lighthearted conversation froze Jim in his tracks. Blair was
surrounded by people, laughing over a shared joke. A redheaded kid was
talking.
"If he doesn't stop bragging about his truck, I'm gonna go postal."
He lowered his voice to deeper pitch. "A real pickup truck, back when men
were men and sheep were nervous!"
Explosive laughter met his impression. Blair was laughing so hard
he was hugging his sides.
One of the girls wiped her eyes and trilled, "Jackson's such an old
fart! I hate working with him, he's so completely anal."
Anger tightened Jim's chest, making him fight for breath. Who were
they talking about? Some old bastard, obviously...someone just like him.
A red haze settled over his vision and then just as abruptly faded away.
He had no right to be angry. Blair was here with his friends where he belonged.
Whoever they were laughing at, it didn't matter.
He had no business being here, he had no business trying to hold
onto Blair. What had he been thinking? It was over. Blair would move on
and he'd be left behind. Again. Nothing in the world could change the fact
that he'd taken his best shot and, unsurprisingly, had failed.
Adrenaline surged through him as he pivoted and rushed back down
the hall, desperate to outrun his defeat.
He knew he must look like a drunk: stomach-churning vertigo made
the ground heave and pitch beneath his feet until he was staggering. At
one point, he fell hard, ripping open the knee of his trousers and bringing
concerned students to his side. Brushing them off, Jim kept going, lurching
his way to the parking lot.
The odd rolling and swaying made driving to the station a nightmare.
He couldn't seem to focus, the lines on the pavement moved like snakes
writhing their way down the blacktop. Brilliant light reflected off a thousand
surfaces, each with its own halo of color. Sounds of the rushing traffic
assaulted his ears, until the cacophony reached a screaming roar.
Realizing he was endangering the lives of other motorists, Jim finally
pulled off the street into a parking lot. He slid across the seat and threw
himself out of the passenger door. Light, noise and motion assaulted him,
all of it too overwhelming to dial down. It was too much, too painful.
Gasping for air, he put his head down and fought back the waves of
nausea that had him in a cold sweat. After a few minutes, the vertigo subsided.
It was replaced by a dimming of his sight.
Jim clutched the side of his truck, shuddering with apprehension
as his vision slowly tunneled, narrowing until there was only the tiniest
pin-point of light and then that disappeared, too. The sounds of the traffic
became more and more muffled and he realized he could no longer feel the
smooth, hard surface of his pickup beneath his hands.
Jim was trapped in darkness and silence, completely cut off from
all sensation. For a moment he wondered if this was what death felt like.
Then he realized that the thought of dying wasn't nearly as frightening
as being this terribly lost and alone.
The insistent ringing of his phone drew him out of his exhausted
slumber. Blair forced himself to stagger off of the couch and pick up the
handset.
"Hello?" His voice husky and obviously sleep ridden.
"Sandburg, what the hell are you doing there?" Simon's demanding
query instantly cleared his head.
"Um, I sorta work here, Simon." His weak attempt at humor was met
with dead silence.
"I need you here and I need you here fast. Jim's in trouble and,
damn it, I have no idea what's wrong!"
Blair felt as if he'd just been sucker punched. "Whoa, what do you
mean, Jim's in trouble? Has he been hurt? Where is he?"
"I'm over on Pender Street about ten blocks south of the station.
Jim's... It's like he's in a coma or something. The only reason I haven't
called an ambulance yet is that I'm guessing this has something to do with
the Sentinel thing."
"I'll be there in ten, Simon. If it looks like he's in any difficulty
at all, call an ambulance, anyway."
"Do you think I'm an idiot? He seems to be fine; he's just frozen
like the tin man in the Wizard of Oz."
Blair dropped the phone back onto his desk, grabbing his jacket and
backpack and hitting the door at a dead run.
The Volvo skidded to a stop behind Simon's car. Blair leaped out
and rushed over to where the captain was standing next to Jim with one
hand on his shoulder. A black and white was parked nearby with a uniformed
cop pacing anxiously next to it. All of this registered faintly in the
background as Blair focused on his partner.
Jim stood next to his pickup, his face blank, staring into the distance,
his hands gripping the side of the bed, knuckles white with strain. He
was completely still, frighteningly so, not even the flicker of an eyelash
acknowledged Blair's arrival.
Blair motioned Simon away and took his place next to the Sentinel.
He pried one of Jim's hands loose from its grip on the truck and took a
quick check of his pulse. Strong and steady, it was somewhat reassuring.
"Hey, there. What's up, Jim?" Still holding the wrist in one hand,
he placed the other on his partner's back and started slowly rubbing in
small, gentle circles, keeping up a constant stream of chatter. There was
no response. Blair fought back his panic as minutes ticked by. Unable to
coax any sort of reaction out of his partner, Blair finally turned to Simon.
"How long has he been like this?"
"I don't really know. The patrolman over there spotted him over an
hour ago. When he came past again half an hour later and saw Jim hadn't
moved, he called me."
Blair glanced over at the uniform that was still waiting nervously
in the background. His eyes widened when he realized it was the rookie
who'd been working out with Jim the day before. Cursing whatever fates
were choreographing this scene, he looked back at Simon, who was fishing
a cigar out of his case.
"We need to get him home, Simon. This isn't working."
Simon bit hard into the cigar. "I think we need to get some professional
help for him, Blair."
"Simon, if he goes to the hospital like this, they'll have him under
psychiatric care in no time. We can't do that to him, man. I know this
has to do with his senses. Something's taken them offline." Blair stared
at the frozen statue his partner had become, shook his head and mumbled
to himself, "I've never seen him so completely offline."
"Okay, I'll go along with you on this for now, Sandburg. If you can't
do anything for him there, I don't see where we'll have any choice."
Blair grimaced his agreement and worked at loosening Jim's other
hand. It was slow going, getting Jim peeled away from the truck and moved
to Simon's car. The young cop, seeing the difficulty they were having,
came over and offered to help. Their eyes met for a moment and Blair swallowed
hard, acknowledged his assistance with a slight nod.
Between the three of them they half carried, half dragged Jim to
Simon's car and then forcibly bent him down and slid him into the back
seat.
"Damn it, Sandburg, I don't see how the two of us are going to get
him up to your place."
"Excuse me, sir." The rookie looked worriedly at Simon. "Shouldn't
you be taking Detective Ellison to Cascade General?"
Simon glanced at Blair, obviously waiting for the younger man to
explain away the details.
Blair leaped into the breach, his mind racing to fit together a credible
story. "No, there's no reason for that. Jim has a-a medical condition he
picked up overseas during his time in the military. It usually never bothers
him un-unless he eats the wrong combinations of foods. Something that doesn't
mix with his medication. So, a few hours of bed rest and he'll be just
fine."
Simon shook his head, amazement at Blair's lame story written all
over his features.
The cop looked doubtful, but didn't argue. "I can follow you over
and give you a hand, Captain Banks."
Simon's gaze flickered over to the young cop and back to Blair. With
a shrug, Blair silently agreed.
"Okay, Anderson, follow me. I want this kept quiet, got it?" He glared
a silent command at the rookie.
"No sweat, Captain. Jim's a friend, I'll be glad to do anything I
can to help."
The ride to the loft was surreal. Blair rode in the back with Jim
tucked close beside him, talking steadily about anything and everything
he could think of. With Simon's attention taken up by driving, he felt
safe enough to reach out and grasp one of Jim's hands in both of his, gently
massaging the palm.
Getting Jim out of Simon's car was a little easier than it had been
getting him into it. The rigidity of Jim's stance had relaxed a bit, but
he still remained frozen in place until they repositioned him. Between
the three men, they managed to get Jim upstairs and laid out on the couch
without too much trouble.
Blair walked Anderson to the door. "Thanks for helping me out here
with my partner." He purposely put an emphasis on the word 'partner' while
looking intently at the rookie.
There was a flicker of comprehension in the big man's eyes, then
he smiled and stuck out an oversized hand. Without hesitation, Blair reached
out and returned the handshake. Mitch gripped his hand and smiled again.
"You take care of Ellison. He's a great guy. You're lucky to be with
him."
Blair recognized that his message had been received. "I will, and
I know I am."
"I think maybe he's lucky, too." With those words, the young cop
turned and walked out of the apartment.
Blair sighed, closing the door and leaning back on it. He saw Simon
was still chewing his cigar and pacing nervously beside the couch.
"Okay, Simon, I think I can take it from here. Why don't you go on
back to the station? I'll give you a call as soon as Jim's back to normal."
"Sandburg, as much as I admire everything you've managed to do with
Jim and his crazy, screwed up senses, I think this may be more than you
can handle."
"We'll be fine, Simon! Haven't I handled everything else?" Blair
choked back his fear and doubts, determined to show the captain he was
wrong.
Simon shook his head, looking over to where Jim was lying still as
death on the couch. "I don't know if I should leave the two of you here
alone. What if he needs medical care?"
"Come on, Simon. You know I won't let anything happen to him. Give
me a chance. If he ends up in a psych ward, it would be the end of his
career. You can't do that to him, you know you can't!" By the end of his
diatribe, Blair was vibrating with emotion.
Simon stopped pacing and looked him up and down. "Does this thing
with Jim have anything to do with what's going on between the two of you?"
"W-what do you mean?" Blair couldn't believe his ears. No, Simon
had not just said that. They'd been very careful. He and Jim hadn't talked
about coming out any more than they had their feelings, but it was an unspoken
agreement. Jim's life and career could be in serious danger if they were
careless. Gay cops were targets for the media and the homophobic old guard.
Regardless of how Blair felt about them going public, they had no real
choice.
"Come on, Sandburg. I have eyes. The two of you have been dancing
around a relationship for years, and the past month or so, all that tension
has just disappeared."
It was too much, Blair's world was being rocked from one crisis to
the next. He didn't know if he could handle this latest bombshell.
"Captain...Simon, I I don't know what to say." The one skill Blair
could always count on, his ability to talk his way out of any sort of tight
situation, had disappeared.
"Don't have a coronary, Sandburg. What the two of you do in your
personal lives is none of my business, except as a friend."
Blair heaved a silent sigh of relief; maybe he wouldn't have another
battle on his hands.
"Remember, I'm also your commanding officer. You two are my best
men and I'm not about to do anything that's detrimental to either of you,
but having you riding together and sleeping with each other isn't something
I can publicly condone." The big man shrugged and spread his hands. "As
long as you don't flaunt it to the brass, I don't see a problem with it."
Blair was speechless. He'd been so terrified of what would happen
if he slipped, if someone caught on. Now that fear seemed preposterous.
He wondered how many of their other friends had figured them out.
"W-what can I say? Thanks, Simon, I really appreciate you taking
it like this. I've been so worried...."
Simon reached out, placing his hands on Blair's shoulders. "Listen,
I'm your friend, and I've been Jim's friend even longer. You're good for
him, Blair. And the way I see it, he's good for you, too. Help him out
of this and then we'll talk about the rest."
With that said, the captain turned and strode to the door. Waving
his cigar, he punctuated his words. "Make sure you get an ambulance here
ASAP, if anything goes wrong. And remember to call me." The big man jerked
open the door and glanced back over his shoulder. "That's an order, Sandburg."
Grinning like an idiot, Blair called out, "Will do, Captain."
The heavy door swung shut and he was jolted back to reality. Jim
was still on the couch, frozen in blank stillness, cut off from all of
his senses. Blair winced, how could he have forgotten even for an instant?
Settling onto his knees next to the couch, Blair embraced the stiff
body of his lover. "Come on back to me, Jim. We need to talk. I mean it...we've
really got to talk." When there was no response, he wasn't surprised. Sighing,
he got to work, going through every method they'd discovered for ending
a zone out over the past three years.
Almost an hour later, Blair was frustrated, hoarse and close to panic.
He was completely out of ideas. Nothing was working. Struggling back to
his feet, he ignored the pins and needles in his cramped legs. Terror and
doubt flayed him.
"Jesus, James, you've got to stop this. I can't do anything to help
you and you're scaring the shit out of me."
Running his hands over his face, he took a shuddering breath. He
was so terrified and the one thing he needed most right now was to feel
the arms of his lover wrapped around him. There was no way that could happen,
so he sat down next to Jim and tried to work out a solution.
What was so basic, so fucking elemental that it would bring his lover
back from wherever he was? It would have to be something that would catch
Jim on a purely instinctual level. He wasn't doing higher thought right
now.
So what sorts of things would Jim respond to? Threats? Danger? Yeah,
that might just be enough to bring him out of it.
Jim had a deep seated fear of open water. Nope, the closest thing
he had was the bathtub and somehow that just didn't seem too frightening.
The only scary thing about that was the thought of him trying to move two-hundred
pounds of dead weight to the bathroom.
"Think! Think, damn it!" Blair pounded the heels of his hands against
his forehead. "What the hell is universal enough, that's purely instinctual
? Fire!"
That would do it. Blair jumped up and ran to his room to rip several
pages out of a notebook. Crumpling the paper into rough balls, he shoved
them into the fireplace and topped them with a few small slivers of kindling.
Casting a worried glance up at the smoke alarm, he crossed his fingers
and closed the damper before striking a long fireplace match. The paper
smoldered blackly along one edge before bursting into flame.
Now the question was, would it be enough? A sudden thought immobilized
him. Yes, that might help. He raced to the kitchen and hauled scissors
out of a drawer. With a jerky, haphazard motion, he whacked off a hunk
of hair and ran back to the fireplace with it clutched tightly in his fist.
Tossing the hair on top of the flames, he watched it smoke and then ignite.
With a shuddering sigh, he returned to Jim's side.
Pushing and shoving until his lover was moved over, he fit himself
next to him. Blair wrapped the oblivious man in a tight embrace. "Come
back to me, Jim. Please. Please, I need you I love you." His voice trailed
off to a choked whisper.
Dark and cold and terribly silent. He would have shivered if he could
have felt his body at all. How had he gotten here? Where the hell was he?
He couldn't remember the journey that had brought him here, but he knew
that it was a safe place. As frightening and as alone as this reality was,
there was comfort in it. He let himself drift in the darkness....
Something was disturbing his silent refuge, a too-familiar scent
that unsettled him. He let himself sink into the fragrance, so warm and
comforting, yet somehow wrong. It shouldn't be here, not in this place.
Underlying the familiar was something else, something acrid. It smelled
like...Blair and smoke. Fire! His Guide was in danger.
The darkness that enveloped him was rent by a brilliant and blinding
light. Dazzlingly bright colors spun until they gradually took shape and
form. Instinct as old as his genetic code, finely honed by years of relentless
training took over. Grasping the warm body that surrounded him, he rolled.
Jim ignored the solid thump of landing on the floor, taking the impact
and protecting the man in his arms. In one sinuous motion, he rolled the
beloved form beneath him. On full alert, he scanned the area for the flames
that endangered them.
Stretching out his hearing until the clamor was deafening, he found
nothing beyond the normal sounds of the building's tenants and traffic
noise. He swivelled his head, searching the loft. Peering through the windows,
Jim still found no signs of fire.
Unable to isolate the menace, instinct screamed for him to get his
Guide to safety. Move!
Jim surged to his feet, heaving Blair up and over his shoulder. Ignoring
the pained grunt and momentary struggle from his lover, he rushed headlong
up the stairs. Without pausing, he moved behind the bed, lowering Blair
to the floor, tucking them both securely next to the wall. Tense, every
muscle at ready, he surveyed the loft below them for signs of the threat.
Still unable to find the source of the smoke and scent of burning
hair, he cast a concerned look to his Guide for direction. Round, alarmed
blue eyes stared back at him. Belatedly, Jim realized that Blair was speaking
to him and he struggled to understand the words.
"Jim... Jim... Jim? What's happening? Can you tell me what's wrong?"
"A-are you okay, Chief? I smelled smoke. Is there a fire?" His throat
felt tight and dry, making the words difficult to form.
"I'm fine, Jim. There's no fire." Blair closed his eyes for a moment,
took a deep breath, then continued on his voice deep and calming. "Everything's
fine now. What's going on with you? Are you okay?"
Rising unsteadily to his feet, Jim stretched out a hand to help Blair
up. Reaction from the enormous adrenaline rush that had spurred his leap
into awareness and defense hit him. He wiped a shaking hand across his
face as his knees gave way.
Luckily, Blair was ready. He grasped the larger man under the arms
and turned him to fall back on the bed. "Whoa there, Jim, take it easy."
Jim shuddered again and again. The spasms grew stronger, until he
was convulsing. Blair looked even more panicked and the smell of fear assaulted
Jim's nostrils again as the younger man hastily gathered the covers around
him. Once the last layer was firmly tucked in, Blair lay down next to Jim,
folding his arms around the bulky mass.
"It's okay, Jim. Just try and relax. You were gone for a long time,
but you're gonna be all right now."
Jim sighed and let the warmth and comfort of Blair's body penetrating
the layers of blankets calm him and he wondered why Sandburg sounded like
he was trying to convince himself. The tremors finally became more bearable,
fading away to random shivers. He sighed again as the aching tension in
his overtaxed muscles began to fade.
"Jim, can you tell me what happened? Do you remember anything?"
He pondered for a moment. 'Did he remember anything?' What the hell
kind of question was that? "Like my name, rank, serial number? What day
it is? Who's the president of the United States?"
"That's so not funny right now. Do you remember how you got so zoned
that you were doing a fine imitation of a Macy's window dressing mannequin
for almost three hours?"
Jim huddled even deeper under the blankets. He remembered clearly
enough he remembered much too clearly: the agonizing discovery that this
relationship wasn't the most important thing in his life; it was his life.
The fight that wasn't a fight but an ending, the miserable night with no
sleep and no escape from the fear that he was destined to be alone. The
terrible knowledge that life without Blair was something he couldn't face.
Jim wondered if he could get himself unwrapped quickly enough to
make a dash to the bathroom, since his stomach suddenly felt like it was
deciding it would be more comfortable inside-out. He ruthlessly forced
the nausea down and made himself answer Blair's question.
"I had a zone out, Chief. Who knows what caused this one. One minute
I was driving down the road and the next I'm here with you." That was the
truth, at least as much of it as he wanted to admit.
Blair stared at him, making no effort to hide his frustration. "Man,
I hate it when you make me pull stuff out of you. Do you remember what
you were thinking when the zone out started? What you were feeling?"
Jim snorted. "I was thinking that things were looking weird and I
pulled over. I felt weird, too. I don't know what you want me to say, Chief
I'm tired, think I'll get ready for bed." Jim struggled to peel off the
layers of enveloping blankets, when he was suddenly pinned by 160 pounds
of enraged Guide.
"Damn it! You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere. Until we figure this out."
Each word was punctuated by the firm thump of a fist pounding his chest.
Overbalanced by Blair sitting squarely across his hips and trapped
under the covers, Jim could only flinch as the words were hammered home.
He tried to look anywhere except at the man who was solidly in his face.
It was an impossible task. Blair was determined to have his way and Jim
knew there was nothing he could deny his lover.
"What was going on with you? This was really bad, Jim. Anything could
have happened to you. You were just...frozen." Blair shivered, then reached
out to wrap his hands around Jim's face. "I could have lost you, you big
shit."
Jim stared into the eyes of his beloved. No matter how much he loved
Blair, no matter how much he needed him, he wouldn't try to force the younger
man into staying in a relationship that was wrong for him. Blair's overactive
feelings of responsibility would be so easy to manipulate. He pondered
his options, and not for the first time, wished he could obfuscate as well
and as easily as lover.
"I'm not sure what happened." The unspoken truth weighed heavily
on him. Flicking his gaze over Blair's right shoulder, he continued, "I
was tense and my vision started playing tricks on me. I couldn't keep driving
so I pulled over and got out of the truck. For a moment everything was
too bright, too loud and then everything faded away. The next thing I knew,
I was here with you."
Jim met Blair's eyes, taking in his tense features and finally noticing
the hank of unevenly lopped-off curls. "What happened to your hair, Chief?"
"I'd been trying for almost an hour to get you out of the zone out
and nothing was working." Blair cleared his throat anxiously. "I had run
out of ideas. That's when I thought of using a fire."
Jim nodded slowly. "Yeah, I smelled the smoke and the burning hair.
I knew it was you."
"So, what I'm hearing here is that you thought I was in danger and
you reacted to that?"
"That about sums it up, Chief." Jim wriggled, trying to get free.
He didn't know what to say next, and the close proximity of his lover was
fraying his tightly-wound nerves.
"What the hell happened today that made you go into the mother of
all zone outs? Is this about last night?" Blair wouldn't let go of his
face and Jim couldn't bear being under the laser- sharp gaze. He closed
his eyes and nodded.
"Damn it! Talk to me, Jim! I'm not moving. I can stay here all day."
Blair settled himself even more firmly across Jim's body.
Jim obstinately refused to open his eyes and refused to respond.
There was nothing he could say. It had been wrong to start a relationship
with Blair. His Guide had never been with a man before, had probably never
even thought about it. Sentinel research consumed the younger man; Jim
should have known that exploring the sexual aspect of his abilities would
be too enticing for the anthropologist to refuse.
Blair lowered his head until they were touching foreheads. It was
almost too much for Jim, he needed his lover's touch so desperately.
"Jim, last night was probably the worst night of my life. I had a
lot of time to think and I came to the conclusion that I can't, I won't
leave you. Even if that's what you want, I can't do it. It would hurt too
badly." Blair shuddered. "You can force me to leave, but I won't go willingly."
Jim stared incredulously at his lover. "W-what did you say?" The
words were so miraculous, he thought he must still be suffering the after
effects of his zone out.
"Listen to me, James Joseph Ellison. I know that I'm not a cop, that
there are probably a lot of other guys who you'd be better off partnered
with. I know you could have your pick of lovers." Blair's voice shook as
he revealed his deepest fears. "Jim, no one will ever love you the way
I do. I think I've always loved you, from the moment we first met. You've
got to believe me."
He was stunned. How could Blair think that he would ever choose anyone
else? There was never any choice for him, his heart and soul were committed
to the wild-eyed, intractable young man pinning him to the bed. He tried
to firm his resolve and shook his head.
"No, Blair. It's this Sentinel thing. You think it's what the 'Guide
of the Great City' should do. It's not right for you to give up the life
you were meant to have." He was lost now. There was nothing left to hide.
"You think I need you to love me...and, Lord help me, I do. But, I'm not
what you need "
His next words were cut off as his mouth was covered in a savage
kiss. Without thought, he responded to the harsh grind of lips and opened
to the probing tongue. Blair plundered his mouth like a starving man and
he couldn't resist, because he was starving, too.
Gasping for air, Blair finally pulled back. "The life I want is with
you." Blair dropped another swift, hard kiss onto his lips.
Jim's face, normally so impassive, glowed with joy for an instant
before he caught himself. It would be so easy to believe and he wanted
more than anything to believe what Blair was telling him, but it wouldn't
resolve the underlying problem. He was still exactly what Blair had called
him; a throwback, unable to connect in the ways normal people took for
granted. He retreated as far as he was able, pressing back into the bed.
"You have practically your whole life ahead of you, Chief. All those
expeditions you want to go on, your career they're your future. Besides,
you'll need someplace to come home to, a real home and a family of your
own...." Jim faltered as Blair glowered at him, his expression becoming
more and more fierce.
"Listen to me, Jim Ellison, and you listen good. I do not need you
to tell me what you think I need or think I want. I'm not a kid. I'm 28
years old and I know exactly what I want. It's not some white picket fence
suburban heaven you've dreamed up. This is the home I've always wanted.
The only family I need or want, I've got. Naomi and you. I need you, Jim."
Coming to the end of his harangue, Blair wrapped his arms around Jim and
buried his face in the bigger man's chest.
Jim worked to release his arms from the blankets, no mean feat considering
he was pinned under his Guide and the younger man was clinging like a limpet.
He finally got free and wrapped his arms around Blair's back. He stroked
his lover comfortingly, trying to convey his love and gratitude.
"Chief, I " Jim choked and started again. "I love you. I don't know
how I could live without you." His voice broke. Panicked by what he had
revealed, he couldn't go on. Tucking his face into the mass of curls, he
inhaled the lingering scent of shampoo and the underlying essence that
was pure Blair. How could he bear to give this up?
Stillness greeted his declaration. He squeezed Blair and waited desperately
for a response that never came. Slowly, he brought both of his hands up
to lift Blair away from his chest. Jim was stunned by what he discovered.
Blair's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. From beneath one closed eyelid,
a single tear tracked its way down the flushed cheek.
Blair never cried. Not really. He had seen the younger man choking
back his grief and sorrow many times, had seen him sobbing uncontrollably
when drugged out of his mind. But never real tears, never like this.
"Aw, damn it, Chief! I'm so sorry."
The smokey blue eyes snapped open, over-bright with emotion and sudden
anger. "Don't you dare tell me you're sorry. I've waited three years for
you to say that, say it and really mean it. Don't you dare try to apologize."
Appalled at how badly Blair had misunderstood him, Jim tried to repair
the damage. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I know it would be better for you
if I could end this all here and now, but I'm not sorry I love you, that
I'm in love with you. Never that." The words were spoken with a quiet passion
he'd never expressed before.
"Oh, man, that's the most beautiful thing you've ever said to me.
But there's no way to end what we have, we're meant to be together, Sentinel
and Guide."
"Chief...." Jim's inability to find the words constricted his throat.
He struggled to express what he was feeling. The emotions were there, but
the words refused to come.
"Blair...." Whatever it was he wanted to say turned hot and suffocating,
moving from his chest into his face and escaping through his eyes, becoming
a wetness that cooled and itched as it moved down his cheeks.
Blair looked horrified. He reached out and wiped away the tears that
streamed down Jim's face. They flowed over his fingers, quicker than he
could capture them.
Jim was at a loss. He couldn't remember ever crying before. Had he
cried when his mother left? He could recall trying his best to comfort
Stephen, after she'd gone. But he had no memory of crying himself. He didn't
know it would hurt so much and there didn't seem to be any way to stop.
Jim found himself stretched out with his head in his lover's lap.
Blair dabbed at his tears with a corner of the sheet, murmuring words of
comfort and dropping kisses on his forehead. Struggling to breathe deeply,
he finally managed to gain a measure of control.
"I'm so sorry, Blair."
"Stop apologizing. And I don't want to hear any of that 'men don't
cry' macho bullshit out of you." Blair shook his shoulder to punctuate
the warning.
"I didn't mean to do that." Jim searched for signs of condemnation
in Blair's expression. The only thing he found was love and acceptance.
"Sometimes it's the only thing to do," Blair said with a beatific
smile. "It's okay. You're still gorgeous."
Jim gave a weak chuckle that ended with a watery snort.
"That, on the other hand, was sorta disgusting, man. I think you'd
better blow your nose." Blair hooked a wad of tissues off the night stand
and handed them over.
Jim made thorough use of them, before saying with a grimace, "Still
think I'm gorgeous, Chief?"
"'Til the day I die, love."
The heartfelt reply tightened Jim's chest again and for a moment
he feared a return of the tears that had so amazed them both. He reached
up and buried his fingers in the mass of untamed curls, drawing Blair's
head down for another soul-deep kiss.
Breaking away reluctantly, Blair shook a finger in Jim's face. "No
way, man. We have that part down to a science. What we need to do is talk.
If we're going to make this forever, there's a lot we've got to discuss.
Like your fear of me leaving you, and my jealousies."
"Your...what? When did that start? Have long have you been...." Jim
scowled with frustration. His jaw tightened and he stopped, disheartened
by his bungling effort to form the right words.
"How long have I been insanely jealous?" Blair smiled, his quicksilver
mind grasping the heart of Jim's meaning.
Jim nodded, his eyes flickering back to meet his lover's, holding
his breath, surprised that Blair had known exactly what he'd been trying
to say.
His look was met with a soft and understanding smile. "Forever. It
started with Carolyn, I guess. Danny Choi was a biggie; Lila hurt like
hell; a certain rookie cop just recently made me nuts." Blair shrugged.
"You really feel that way?" Jim could hardly believe what he was
hearing. Why would Blair be jealous? Why had he had never seen that? It
was almost too enormous for him to comprehend. All this time he had been
so preoccupied with his own fears....
"Blair, you don't need to ever feel that or think that." He reached
out and grasped the warm, familiar fingers. Bringing Blair's hand to his
face, he rested the palm against his cheek. "I have never felt for anyone
else what I feel for you."
"There's more, Jim. These past few months, I've been drowning. I
have my commitments at school and with you at the station and there's never
enough time for us. And lately I've been so tired. " Blair dropped his
head, letting the cascade of mahogany curls hide his face.
Sentinel sharp vision saw past the curtain of hair, taking in the
deep red stain rising over Blair's cheeks.
"I can't keep up. I've tried, believe me, Jim. It's not that I don't
want to." Blair's voice cracked.
"Blair, don't," Jim murmured as he sat up and drew the younger man
to his chest. He had known that his scheme to keep his lover would ultimately
fail, but he had no idea how badly he had failed them both. His demands
had pushed Blair too far. "It's not what you think. I...I was so afraid
of doing things wrong again. I didn't want to disappoint you that way.
It wasn't just the talking that I couldn't get right, Blair, it was the
feeling and the...." Jim's voice trailed off, barely audible.
Blair's head shot off of Jim's chest. The younger man looked intensely
at the Sentinel. "What was that?" Blair's eyes narrowed and Jim watched
while his lover worked out the connection between what he'd said and what
he meant.
"You've been trying to make up for your failings with Carolyn?" Blair
demanded. Jim nodded unhappily.
Blair took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Where else did it go
wrong? You couldn't open up to her the way she wanted you to? And the sex,
it wasn't right, either?"
Jim flinched away from the gentle probing. Unable to meet Blair's
gaze, he looked away and replied with another nod.
"Did you love her, Jim? I mean really love her?"
"I thought I did, Chief. At first I thought it was the best thing
for both of us. She seemed to love me, too. After a while, it was all we
could do to speak civilly to one another and she she could hardly stand
for me to touch her."
There was a long silence as Blair let Jim gather his thoughts and
waited pointedly for the older man to continue.
"I never have been able to get it right, Chief. Even as a kid. You've
said it yourself, I'm a throwback. I tried to hide behind the sex, tried
to keep you from being that disappointed with me."
Blair groaned and hid his face in Jim's chest again. His reply was
muffled. "You have it all wrong, Jim. You're not going to disappoint me.
You're so much more than you give yourself credit for. I should never have
made that remark."
His Guide nuzzled the hard muscles of Jim's chest. "I don't need
you to hide what you are. I just need to know that you love me. Our love
isn't just about sex, Jim. It's what we feel for each other."
"I can't always find the words, Chief. I want to, I really do, I
just don't know if I can." Jim squelched back the fear that he was going
to be tested again, only to be found wanting.
"You're doing pretty good so far. Just don't ever stop trying and
I'll be happy. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."
Jim closed his eyes and sighed. They were going to be okay. For the
first time in his life, he knew that someone trusted and loved him enough
to look past his flaws and make it work. Something hard and cold buried
deep inside him melted away, leaving contentment in its place.
The late afternoon sun slanted through the clerestory windows, bathing
the lovers in a golden glow. Jim watched the way the light played over
Blair's features, storing the memory away in his heart.
End
