Archive of Our Own ^beta

Author's webpage: http://grey.ravenshadow.net/

Title: Sessions 3
Author: Grey
Fandom: THE SENTINEL
Pairing: Jim/Blair
Rating: NC-17
Status: New/Complete
Archive: Yes
Email: [email protected]
Series/Sequel: Yes. This is the third in the Sessions Series. Date: March 2001
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net/ Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Blair seeks help to cope with his troubled relationship with Jim and his near death experience.

Notes: Thanks to Jenn aka XFreak for her constant support.

Warnings: This story has major spoilers for the third and fourth seasons.

Sessions 3
by Grey

Jim checked his watch again and frowned. Shit. He sat at the bar and sipped the coffee, scanning the lunch crowd and keeping a vigilant check on the door. He hated waiting, never knowing if Blair's tardiness meant distraction or disaster. Just as he put the cup down, his partner rushed into the room, his hair wild and his face anxious.

"About time, Sandburg."

"Don't start, Jim. Let's just get a table."

The abrupt tone warned Jim to keep any further comments to himself for a bit longer. Lifting a hand, he signaled to the hostess. They followed in silence to a booth and sat down with menus. Blair ordered quickly. "A beer, please. Tap is fine."

As soon as the woman left, Jim studied his friend with concern, his earlier irritation forgotten. "What's going on?"

"My car died."

"Again?"

"Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"Right. Anyway, Eddie says it's going to take another three hundred just for the parts. Fuck. I didn't need this." The beer arrived and Blair drank half before they both ordered. As soon as the waitress left, Jim sat back. "You need a new car. You've put a small fortune into that heap."

"That heap is a classic, man. You know that."

"A classic heap."

Holding up a hand, Blair shook his head. "Stop. I love my car."

"It's not reliable."

"It's my fault. I should've had it in last month. He told me it needed work, but I just kept putting it off."

"A new car would be cheaper, not to mention safer."

"We've had this argument before, man. I'm not selling my car." Blair swallowed down the rest of his beer and signaled for another.

"Don't you think you'd better slow down a little?"

"It's just a couple of beers, Jim. No big deal. Besides, I'm not driving. The car's at Eddie's."

"How'd you get here?"

"Jake Ragland dropped me off." Blair paused and smiled sweetly, his voice husky and seductive. "Could you give me a ride, man? I can make it up to you later."

Jim flushed at the sexy innuendo and leaned in. "Settle down. You know you don't have to ask."

"I like asking. I like making it up to you, too."

Before Jim could sputter a response, salads and Blair's second beer arrived. As soon as the young lady left, Jim spoke in a hush. "We're in public, Chief."

"So?"

"So, calm down."

Sitting back, smoothing his napkin in his lap, Blair shook his head. "You're the one who needs to calm down. Nobody can hear us and even if they can, so what?"

Picking up a fork, avoiding Blair's gaze, Jim spoke quietly, his words strained. "I'm not comfortable, that's all. Save it for the loft."

Blair stabbed a cherry tomato and ate it, his face stubborn and unhappy. "Right. Whatever."

"Don't be pissed."

"I'm not. Just disappointed."

"In what? Me?"

"Yeah, a little."

Putting his silverware down, Jim crossed his arms. "What do you expect? We talked about this."

"We said no public displays, man. We didn't say we couldn't flirt a little."

"Same thing. You don't need to put on a show."

"I wasn't."

"Weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't. Jesus." Blair drank some more beer and looked out the far window, his face somber in the low light of the restaurant.

They sat quietly until the steaks arrived and the waitress freshened Jim's coffee. Alone once more, Jim tried again. "I still think you should get a new car."

"I don't want a new car."

"If it's money, I could help."

"Fuck. Just leave it alone, Jim. Don't you listen?"

"I listen. I just don't like what I'm hearing. What's the deal with the car anyway? You're not stupid. You know it's not safe to be driving something that breaks down all the time. With the hours you keep, you could be out after dark in the middle of nowhere and get in trouble." He lowered his voice and he moved closer. "I just worry, that's all."

Frown lines softened. "I know you do, man, but it's my problem."

"Why? I thought we were together now."

"We are, but that doesn't mean you run my life."

Jerking back, Jim's tone hardened. "I'm not doing that. I'm just trying to help. Why is that a problem?"

"It's not helping when you won't listen to what I want."

"Why listen when what you want doesn't make any sense?"

His face flushed, Blair stood up, his voice strangling the words. "It's my life and my fucking car. So leave it alone, damn it."

"Where are you going?"

"To the restroom. Got a problem with that, too?"

"Don't be an asshole."

"Don't be a prick then."

Jim took a deep breath, his gut clenching. "Blair, sit down."

"Eat your fucking steak before it gets cold."

As his lover turned and stormed away, Jim closed his eyes and rubbed his face with one hand to calm his jangled nerves. After a few minutes, the waitress approached. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine."

"You want more coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"More beer for your friend?"

"No, he's had enough."

The young girl paused and glanced toward the back in Blair's direction. "Is he going to be okay?"

Before he could answer, a loud crash came from the restroom. Jim jumped up and rushed through the door to find Blair holding a bloodied hand, the mirror shattered. His eyes trained on Blair and the injured hand, he called back over his shoulder. "Get me a clean towel. Now!" Turning his attention back to Blair, he kept his voice even and calm. "Let me see it."

Taking the wounded hand in his own hand, the blood poured from the cuts across Blair's knuckles, the ones across the middle finger the deepest. He grabbed the white towel offered from behind him and heard the frantic voices of the manager and curious customers outside the door. As he wrapped up the hand, he noted the rapid heartbeat and breathing. "You're going to need stitches here, Chief."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."

"It's okay. I'll pay for the damage and get you to the ER."

"I don't need that."

"Yes, you do. You'll probably need another tetanus shot, too."

"Fuck. Those hurt."

"And smashing your hand through a mirror doesn't?"

Meeting his eyes, his face pale, Blair whispered. "I didn't even feel it."

His own breathing constricted, Jim guided Blair from the restroom, past the crowd, back to the table. "Sit here. I'll be right back."

Stepping to the manager, Jim turned on his professional mode. "I'm sorry about this. Let me pay for the mirror."

"If he's hurt, I should call 911. I don't want to get sued."

Jim pulled out his badge and identified himself. "No need and you won't get sued. I'll take him to the hospital myself. Now, how much for the damage?"

Scanning the broken glass and trail of blood, the older man ran a hand through his grey hair. "I don't know. I guess a $100 should do it. It wasn't a new mirror."

Jim pulled out the money and handed it over, thankful he'd gone to the automatic teller before having lunch. "That should cover the whole bill."

As he turned to leave, a hand touched his arm. "I hope he'll be okay."

"He'll be fine. He's just had a hard day."

Nodding, the older man frowned knowingly. "We've all been there, but we don't all put our hands through a mirror."

"No, we don't."

"But we'd like to sometimes, huh?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the cooperation."

"Anytime, detective."

Returning to Blair, he quickly helped him up and led him to the door. "Let's get you fixed up, Chief."

Quietly, Blair sighed. "I think it's going to take more than a few stitches, man."

Bandaged and stitched, prescriptions in hand, Blair sat quietly as Jim drove in afternoon traffic. "So, you ready to tell me what you were thinking?"

"Not really."

"Not really ready or not really thinking?"

"Both. Look, I'm sorry. I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

Clenching his jaw, his attention divided between heavy traffic and his worrisome partner, Jim summoned up his patience. "I just need to know you're okay here, Blair. I don't like seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"So wound up."

"I'm sorry."

"You've said that, but are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It won't happen again."

"How can you be sure if you won't tell me what happened this time?"

Blair closed his eyes, his hand to his forehead. "I don't know what happened."

"What do you mean, you don't know what happened?"

"I was just pissed, man. One minute I was standing there washing my hands and then the next minute you were there and I was bleeding."

"Because you punched out the fucking mirror."

"I know. I don't remember doing it."

Glancing over in concern, Jim ventured a quick shoulder squeeze. "It's okay."

"It's not okay, Jim. You and I both know that."

"I'll admit it's not like you."

"And the thing is, I don't even know why I was so pissed. You didn't do anything worse than usual."

Prickled by the words, Jim girdled his irritation. "Worse than usual? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Are you saying I piss you off all the time?"

Shaking his head, Blair stared out the window, his voice stretched and sad. "I didn't mean it like that. You know that's not true."

"Then explain it to me."

"I don't want to fight."

"Then don't. Just tell me what you meant."

"I just meant that sometimes you can be a little overbearing."

"Overbearing?"

"Not all the time, just when you want something to go your way. It's hard to deal with."

"You're saying I'm controlling."

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"So you hurt your hand because you couldn't just fucking say I don't want a new car? I don't buy that. There's something more going on."

Frustrated, Blair pushed back his hair. "I did say I don't want a new car, Jim. You just don't listen." He hesitated, biting his lower lip. "Besides, this isn't about the car."

Stopping at the red light, Jim turned his body more towards Blair. "What's it about then, because you're losing me."

"It's about you trusting me enough to run my own life."

Jim sat back, stunned by the impact. "I do trust you."

"You say that, but then you pull this kind of shit."

The light turned green and a horn prompted Jim to continue driving, his brain buzzing with the magnitude of the words. After a few moments, his throat dry, he spoke quietly. "You really think I don't trust you?"

"On some levels you do. I don't doubt that."

"And on other levels?"

Blair shifted in his seat carefully, holding his injured hand close to his body. "You don't trust me enough to make my own decisions. I'll admit sometimes it would be easier to give in, just let you have your own way, but I can't. I need to have power in my own life just like you do."

Thankful for automatic driving skills, Jim remained silent as they reached the loft and he parked. When Blair touched the door handle, the older man grabbed his wrist, the words snagged in his throat. "I'm sorry."

Using his good hand, Blair patted his face. "I know." His voice softened. "Let's go upstairs."

Blair got out and Jim followed, his mind still reeling. Once inside, he hung up his coat and helped Blair take off his jacket. "You should keep that hand up to reduce the swelling."

"It's okay. It doesn't hurt that much."

Stepping next to Blair, Jim took his hand and studied it, each thread of the gauze huge to his sentinel vision, the flesh too warm against his skin. Vision blurred and he blinked several times. Fingers touched his cheek as he hugged Blair closer. A kiss to his temple brought his head up. "You didn't have to do this to get the point across, Blair. You scared me."

"I love you. I didn't do it to make a point."

"Just don't do it again. If I piss you off, just tell me."

Relaxing into Jim's arms, Blair rested his head over his heart. "I always have."

"Until now?"

"I don't want to lose you."

Cupping the back of Blair's head, Jim rested his chin on his curls, his face grim. "You won't lose me by being honest, Chief. Just the opposite."

Pulling away, Blair met his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, tell me what you're thinking, not what you want me to think you're thinking."

"Oh, man, that makes me dizzy."

"Mind fucking usually does. Be honest with me. If you want me to trust you, you have to trust me."

"I think this is where I came in."

"You get my point though, right?"

"Yeah, Jim, I do. Nothing but honesty from here on out." Blair kissed him quickly and then headed to the sofa. "So I guess that's my cue to tell you that I hate that brown pair of polyester pants, huh?"

Jim snorted and followed him over. "They're comfortable."

"They're baggy and they make your legs look skinny."

"I don't have skinny legs."

"I know you don't. That's my point. You've got great legs, not to mention a fantastic ass."

Laughing out loud, Jim slid in beside Blair. "You want to talk honest, you should always wear tight jeans and tuck your shirts in."

"Because?"

"Because you've got a great package."

Teasing the buttons on Jim's shirt, Blair smiled. "It's all yours, Jim. No need to advertise."

Soaking in the wisdom of the words, Jim unzipped and fondled his prize package.

"Jesus, Sandburg. What happened to your hand?" Simon shut the door as Blair walked into his office.

"It's a long story."

"Hasn't stopped you before."

Smiling dryly, Blair nodded in surrender as he stood by the window and played with the edges of the bandage. "I had a really bad day. My car died."

"And you hurt your hand trying to fix it? Damn, that's why you've got Triple A and a cell phone."

"I don't have Triple A, and even if I did, I've got a mechanic."

"What you need is a new car."

"Don't start."

"Hell, I'm surprised Jim hasn't bought you one yet."

Blair gritted his teeth and turned his back to his friend, his muscles tight all along his shoulders. "Jim doesn't need to buy me a new car, Simon. I can take care of myself."

"Nobody said you couldn't." Simon paused and stepped to his side, his face suddenly more serious. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Don't bullshit me. I'm a cop, remember?"

"And I'm not, remember?" Annoyed, Blair turned away again and walked to the other side of the room, the tension in his head pulsing likes spikes inside his skull.

"Don't use that tone with me, Sandburg. Drop the attitude and tell me what's going on."

Too tired to fight, Blair slumped down into one of the chairs at the conference table. "I'm sorry. I guess this whole deal with Katrina and school has been harder than I thought."

Pouring two mugs of coffee, Simon put one in front of Blair and then sat down across from him. "Has the fallout been that rough?"

"Edwards had me in her office this morning grilling me for the details. I kept telling her, it's all police business, but she was being pissy as usual. The school's in deep shit with the alumni and other supporters and she's not happy."

"Jim know about this?"

Blair jerked his head up in a near panic. "No, and I don't want him to."

"Why not?"

"You know how he is. I don't want another murder on campus and prison food sucks."

Simon rubbed the back of his head in frustration and then turned facing Blair. "Look, if it'll help, I'll call Chancellor Edwards myself and tell her to lay off. I mean, the arrests had nothing to do with you."

"It won't help, man. She hates me." He hesitated, his voice softer. "And she hates me working with Jim, like I'm a spy for the cops or something. She pretty much made it clear I have to decide what's more important, the school or the police."

"Shit. What did she say exactly?"

"Just that I need to rethink my objectives, code for I can't keep living in both worlds."

"And if you do?"

"I don't know. She didn't come right out and say it, but I figure it'll work like Les Daniels."

"Les Daniels?"

Blair sipped his coffee and then pushed back a wayward curl. "He had a fellowship in psychology and was working at Conover. The thing was, he was more interested in the practical aspects of the field than all the academic bullshit. He made the mistake of not kissing the right ass and ended up losing his funding."

"You think that's what Edwards has planned, tampering with your fellowships?"

"She hated having to reinstate me after Ventriss was arrested. She lost face and she's not the kind of person to forget that. I think it's very possible that I'll be lucky to even enroll in a class much less teach one after this semester."

"What are you going to do?"

Shaking his head, Blair sighed. "I have no idea. Keep doing what I'm doing, I guess."

"What's that?"

"Keeping my head above water." He laughed to himself at the irony of his words and glanced up to see Simon's somber features. "What?"

"That's not funny." The larger man leaned in, his dark eyes intense and his hands fisted together on the table. "I was there. I'll never forget it."

Suddenly sad, Blair nodded mournfully. "That makes two of us."

"You need to tell Jim about this thing at school. If he finds out on his own, he'll be pissed."

"And if I tell him, he'll be pissed. So what's the difference?"

"The difference is that he'll think you trust him enough to tell him."

Using his left hand to push back his stubborn hair, Blair looked out into the bullpen. "Speaking of Jim, where is he? He told me to meet him down here around noon."

"He had to go out with Joel. They got a call on a robbery case he pulled last week."

"He and Joel have been working together pretty well lately."

"Yeah, they make a good team." Simon hesitated and cleared his throat. "Don't get me wrong, Blair. You're Jim's partner. Joel's not trying to horn in."

"I didn't think he was, but he is a good cop and if something happened to keep me from riding along, I'm glad Jim's got Joel to be with. Joel's cool."

"Yeah, he is. Maybe you and Jim should consider letting him in on what's going on between you two."

Blair flushed and avoided Simon's gaze. "I wish I could. Jim doesn't want to tell anyone unless he has to."

"I understand that. You both need to be careful, but I think I know Joel pretty well and I don't think it would make a difference. Even if it did, he'd keep the confidence. Still, it's your decision."

"Jim's more than mine."

"How's that?"

"Jim's the one who's a cop. He's the one who could be hurt the worst by this."

"But you're in this as much as he is. You work here, too. This gets out, you'll take the flack as much as he will, maybe even more."

Meeting concerned eyes, Blair nodded. "Yeah, I know. I'm the outsider."

"Not to me and not to most of the people here in Major Crimes."

"I appreciate that, Simon, but the truth is that most people in the force still wonder what I'm doing here. The suspicion's been there from the beginning, especially after Jim let me move in. There are bigots who hate me already. I just don't want Jim to suffer because of it."

Simon didn't deny the truth of the words. He couldn't. Instead, he leaned in and lowered his voice. "Jim loves you."

"I know that."

"Then he'll put up with whatever he has to."

"I just don't want him hurt."

"He'll survive as long as you're with him."

Tilting his head, Blair studied the worried face, his affection for Simon even stronger than before. "We both know Jim can survive without me."

"But would he want to? You didn't see him at the fountain, Blair. He was devastated, totally broken. He wouldn't give up even when the paramedics said you were dead. He couldn't. You're kidding yourself if you think he'd be okay without you. Jim doesn't love easily, but when he does, it's for good. You, my friend, are it, the whole shebang."

"The whole shebang?"

"Brass ring, holy grail, you pick the metaphor. However you look at it, you're the one he needs."

Blair smiled and relaxed slightly, his muscles less strained. "I never knew you were such a romantic, man."

"Romantic? Me?"

"Yeah, you. Cop or not, you're as bad as Jim. Next thing you know, you'll be planning our wedding."

Sitting back, Simon grinned smugly. "Hell, I figure I'm a shoo in for the best man."

"As long as it's not a shotgun wedding, you can give the bride away, too."

Simon laughed out loud and sputtered his coffee. "Which is which?"

"Jim wears a veil better than I do, man. You figure it out."

"What happened to your hand?"

"It's a long story."

Logan flipped the page of his notebook. "We've got the whole hour."

Blair nodded as he ran his left index finger along the worn edge of the bandage, his mind reeling back over the blur of events, the blood, the glass, the rage all melting into one. "I had a really bad day last week. My car died."

"And?"

"And I hurt my hand."

"Fixing your car?"

"Not exactly."

"How exactly?"

"Does it really matter?"

The doctor studied him, his face neutral, but his eyes focused intently. "What is it that you don't want to tell me?"

"It was stupid."

"Stupid how?"

Throat dry, Blair pursed his lips and took a deep breath. He avoided Logan's gaze and stared out the window, locking down the dread welling up with confession. "It shouldn't have happened. I was just so pissed."

"Are you saying you hurt yourself when you were angry?"

"Yeah."

"About what?"

"Jim and I had a fight."

"About what?"

"My car. Jim thinks I should get a new one."

"And you don't?"

"I love my car. I mean, it's a classic and it reminds me of the one my mom and I used to have when I was growing up. We used to drive all over the country in that car." He paused, momentarily caught up in the flashes of happy times with his mom, laughing and listening to Jimi Hendrix together, the sun shining and freedom just over the next bridge.

"How did you hurt your hand?"

Closing his eyes, Blair spoke quietly, the fear swelling the words. "I don't remember exactly. It happened so fast."

"Just tell me the best you can."

"We were meeting for lunch at Harlow's, but my car broke down and I was late. Jim started in again about how I should get a new car." Blair hesitated and frowned, the replay painful. "I was flirting to break the mood, but he told me to stop, that he wasn't comfortable with me playing around in public. He accused me of putting on a show."

"Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Trying to make him uncomfortable to get back at him for making you angry?"

"No. I don't think I was. It wasn't like I tried to kiss him or anything so blatant. But it hurt that he shut me down like that. Worse, it hurt to see that he's still so afraid of people finding out about us, even strangers."

Logan scribbled a few lines as he motioned Blair to continue. "Then what happened?"

"He kept on about the car. I was afraid of what I might say so I got up and went to the restroom. I don't really remember doing it, but I smashed my hand into a mirror." Blair held up his injured hand and cupped it with his left. "It didn't even hurt."

"Does it hurt now?"

"Yeah, some." He wiggled his fingers and shrugged. "Everything works though. I get the stitches out in a couple of days."

"How did you feel afterwards?"

"Foolish. I've never done anything like that before."

"What about angry? Were you still mad at Jim?"

Looking up and meeting Logan's eyes, he frowned, the question unexpected. "No. Jim was great. He took me to the hospital and we had a long talk."

"About?"

"Trust and being honest. I think I scared him a little."

"And you, did you scare yourself?"

"A little. Like I said, I couldn't remember doing it. I've been pissed before, but never like that. The weird thing was the fight wasn't anything special."

"So why do you think you reacted with violence this time?"

"I don't know."

"Then I think we'd better find out."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that."

"Why don't you sit down and tell me how you feel about what happened?"

Sighing, Blair stepped over to the chair across from Logan and slumped down. He braced his elbows on his knees and fisted his hands in front of his face. "It was a stupid thing to do. I don't know why I did it. What else can I say?"

"Well, you said that you went to the restroom because you were afraid of what you might say to Jim. What were you afraid of saying?"

Blair rubbed his face with both hands, his thoughts jumpy. "It's not so much what I might have said, but what might have happened."

"What's that?"

"I've told Jim to fuck off plenty of times, but that was before. I guess now that we're together, I was afraid if I said that, he'd really do it and leave."

"And how does hurting yourself help?"

"I didn't say it made sense. I just lost control, that's all."

"That's a lot." Logan leaned forward and put his hands together on the desk, the pen wedged between them. "Why smash the mirror, Blair? What was it that you didn't want to see?"

"Fuck." Blair closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion. "You're good at this."

"I've had some practice. Now, answer the question."

Heart racing, air too thin, Blair finally opened his eyes. "I vaguely remember seeing myself in the mirror. I was upset and hated what I saw."

"Which was?"

"A coward."

"Why a coward?"

"Because I was afraid of telling Jim the truth."

"About what?"

"About everything, but especially how pissed I am about him trying to run my life. The next thing I knew Jim was there and I was bleeding. I felt numb."

"You think Jim tries to control you?"

"Yes."

"Have you told him how you feel about that?"

"Yes, but he does that to everybody in his life. I knew that going in. I don't know why I thought it would be different now. It's just that now it's even worse than before."

"How so?"

"I guess he figures if we're together, he has to take charge and make all the plans, make all the decisions, like that's his role. It's depressing."

"And you've explained how it makes you feel?"

"I've tried, but he's not hearing it. He backs off for awhile and then he does it again. Like yesterday, I went to pick up my car and found out that Jim already paid the bill. Called it a peace offering."

"Maybe that's what it was."

"I know, but he just doesn't get it. I can pay my own way. I'm not in this so he can take care of me."

"Perhaps Jim thinks that you should take care of each other."

"But with Jim it's a little lopsided."

"What did you tell him about paying for the car?"

"That he shouldn't have done it." Blair sighed and pushed his hair away from his face as he sagged back. "But I couldn't stay mad at him. He gets too upset. Besides, his motives were good. I just wish he believed I can do things on my own sometimes."

"Do you think you'll hurt yourself again if he doesn't?"

Meeting worried eyes, Blair shook his head. "That's not going to happen. I'm fine. Really."

Frowning, Logan made a few notations and then changed the subject. "What about sleeping? Are you having any more nightmares?"

Edgy again, Blair shifted uneasily. "A couple. The insomnia comes and goes."

"Have you been keeping the sleep journal like I suggested? It might help us see a pattern."

"I don't need to keep a journal. I can see the pattern."

"Which is?"

"Whenever we don't make love, I have a nightmare. I dreamed Jim was with Alex in the temple and I was on my knees, a gun to my head."

"Temple? What temple?"

Glancing up, Blair guarded his words, suddenly cautious. "When we went to Mexico, there was a deserted temple in the jungle. That's where Alex led Jim when he chased her. I showed up later after she'd drugged him."

Logan shook his head and raised an eyebrow. "You know that sounds a little fantastic."

"I know, but it's true. Anyway, the nightmare is sort of like reliving that whole scenario, only this time Jim's sacrificing me to save her."

"Have the nightmares been the same both times?"

Swallowing hard, Blair lowered his head and bit his lower lip. "No. Last night after our fight it was worse. Jim was doing more than kissing her."

"He was having sex with her?"

"Yeah. Taking her from behind. I couldn't move. I just had to kneel there and watch, smelling them getting off. I woke up and I couldn't stand to have Jim touch me. I know it's not his fault. It's my own insecurities, but it still hurts."

"Have you told Jim about your dreams yet?"

"No. He wants me to, but it'll hurt his feelings. He's really sensitive about what happened between him and Alex."

"You don't think he'd understand if you explained them as part of your own insecurity?"

"He might, but I doubt it. Deep down, he'd blame himself."

"You don't know that for sure, not until you risk it."

"You think I should tell him?"

"That's up to you, but it might make you feel better if you could share it. From what you say, it's driving a wedge between the two of you because you're keeping it to yourself."

"Yeah, maybe. It's just hard to talk about, especially with Jim. He's so touchy about that whole thing."

"And what are you touchy about?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, earlier you said you were angry about Jim being uncomfortable with your flirting behavior in the restaurant. Why did that bother you so much? You've mentioned before that you've agreed to keep your relationship covert for now."

Blair sat back, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle. "I know we have to be careful at the station and other places where people know us."

"That's not what I asked."

"I know. I guess it bothered me because it's like we're being hypocritical. We make love at the loft, but outside, it's hands off. It's hard to turn my feelings off like that. I guess it pisses me off that Jim's so good at playing that game and I'm not."

"And why does that make you angry? Do you think his feelings for you aren't as strong as yours for him because he can control his behavior better?"

Scratching his cheek, the whiskers burning his fingers, Blair shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe. It's not really fair to think that, because I don't really believe it. Jim does love me. I know that. I guess it makes me sad that we're not allowed to show it like straight couples when we're out."

"And you blame Jim for that?"

"No, of course not."

"But you get mad when he follows the unwritten rule of hands off in public?"

"I just wish it didn't have to be that way, that Jim loved me so much, he'd lose his mind and just forget about the rules sometimes."

"And what would happen if he did?"

Blair smiled for the first time during the session. "I'd lose my mind, too."

"Is that what you really want, for people to find out about the two of you?"

Pondering the question a few moments, Blair leaned forward slightly. "Sometimes I think it would be the best thing that could happen. We wouldn't have to pretend anymore. Other times, it scares me shitless. We'd be exposed. They might keep me from working with Jim at the station. He needs me. If something happened because I wasn't there, I'd never forgive myself."

"So what would you like to happen?"

"I just want us to be happy without having to worry about all this other shit."

"Being in an alternative relationship has extra pressures, but you knew that going in."

"I know. I just never expected it to be this hard to hide how I'm feeling."

"What did you expect?"

Blair snorted. "Don't laugh."

"About what?"

"About me thinking everything would be just fine once Jim admitted he loved me."

"And it's not?"

"Not even close."

Jim hurried up the steps of Blair's building, avoiding the reflection of the hateful fountain behind him. Walking down the hall, he noted the young stranger in his partner's office. He knocked and stepped in. "Is Blair around?"

A smile brightened the handsome face, square jaw, strong chin, deep green eyes. "You must be Jim."

"And you are?"

The young man stood up from the desk and walked around while extending a hand. "Jake Ragland. Nice to finally meet you."

A large hand gripped his, squeezing firmly, but not testing. "I've heard Blair talk about you."

"Same here. Have a seat."

Instead of sitting, Jim walked to the window as he studied Blair's friend. Blond hair, average build, no outstanding features other than being drop dead gorgeous in tight jeans and a pullover. Jesus. "So, where's Blair?"

"With the wicked witch of the west, man." Jake sat back down behind the desk and sipped some coffee.

"Excuse me?"

"Edwards. She summoned him again this morning. Bitch needs to get a life."

Brow furrowed, Jim frowned. "Again? Has Chancellor Edwards been giving him a hard time?"

"Ever since this last murder fiasco. He's been called in twice by her and three times by Johnson. Bastard's busting his balls again over some silly shit about not holding enough student conferences. It's no wonder he's stressed out."

Jaw clenching, Jim picked up a smooth, black marble paperweight from the file cabinet, his gut knotted. He fingered its smooth surface, the slick edges cool against his skin. "Has he told you what Edwards wants?"

"He just said she's riding his ass pretty hard." Jake stalled and then cleared his throat. "He didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't."

"Shit."

Exactly. "When did he leave?"

"Look, man, I'm sorry. I thought you knew about all this."

"Don't worry about it." Keeping his voice steady, Jim put the paperweight down and repeated, "When did he leave?"

"About an hour ago. He should be back pretty soon. I just stopped by for moral support after I heard he got called in again."

Jim wiped his face with single hand and took a deep, calming breath. "Look, Jake, why don't you take off? I'd like to talk to Blair alone when he gets here."

Getting up, Jake nodded, his face serious. "Sure. No problem." He walked to the door and hesitated, his hand on the knob. "I don't mean to butt in, man, but try not to give Blair a hard time about this. He was probably just trying to handle it himself because he didn't want to worry you."

"Probably."

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

Jake started to speak, but then shook his head. "Never mind. I'll see you later."

"Wait. What were you going to say?"

Meeting his eyes, Jake stepped closer, his voice lower than before. "I'm worried about him. He's under a lot of pressure right now. You're his best friend. Maybe you can convince him that school isn't worth all this shit, you know? Some things are more important."

"Some things like what?"

"Like being true to what you believe, man, true to your heart." He ran an anxious hand over his short-cropped hair. "I know it sounds corny, but Blair's been torn up lately and I don't think it's all the school's political bullshit. He's been dancing through that unfazed for years. It's more than that. I hate seeing him like this. He's been this way ever since that damn fountain."

"You're a good observer, Jake. No wonder Blair likes you so much."

"Thanks, man, but this isn't about me. I think it's about you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

Jim stepped away, his arms wrapped around his chest. "What about me?"

"I don't know. I just know it is." Jake shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. "Look, I have to go. Tell Blair if he needs to talk, give me a call later."

"Sure. Later."

Alone, Jim moved to the window, his body tense as he watched the students milling around on campus. He closed his eyes to push away the anger, the swelling irritation of finding out Blair still didn't trust him.

"Jim?"

"Blair."

"What's going on, man?"

"I think that's my line."

Blair came into the office and took off his jacket, shaking it off before hanging it on the coat rack. "What are you talking about?"

"Edwards and Johnson."

"Shit." Face paled, Blair stepped over to the coffee machine and poured a mug of coffee. "Want some?"

"I want to know why you didn't tell me."

Still facing the wall, Blair shrugged. "I know I should have. I'm sorry."

"You're right, you should have." Jim came closer, his hand on Blair's shoulder, his voice soft. "You don't have to do everything on your own, Chief. I can help."

"Not with this, man. You get involved and it'll only make it worse."

"Why? If they're giving you grief because of your work with me, then it's my business, too. They need to back off."

"Or what? You'll arrest them?" Blair shook his head and faced him. "You can't fix everything, Jim, as much as you'd like to."

Throat tight, Jim hooked the back of Blair's neck as he spoke quietly. "But you could share the load. You don't have to hide it from me. You don't want me to step in, I get that. But don't keep me out, either."

Words choked. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Patting his arm, Jim nodded. "Let's go grab some lunch. We can talk when we get away from this place."

"I can't, man. I've got too much to do."

"You need a break. Come on. I'll bring you right back. Promise."

Looking around at the piles of books and papers, Blair swallowed hard. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"No lectures."

"That's your department."

"Maybe not for much longer."

Jim handed Blair his jacket, puzzled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Johnson wants me to schedule more student conferences and study sessions. I already do more than required, but I've got a lot of midterm failures. He's pretty much made it clear that if that doesn't change, he'll recommend that I don't teach next semester." They walked out together and Blair locked the door. "I just need to make more time, that's all."

"Shit. How are you supposed to do that? You're already stretched too thin."

"Can we talk about this later?"

"What is it you're not telling me?"

Face grim, Blair put the keys in his pocket and headed toward the front door. Outside, he took a deep breath, measuring his words carefully. "Edwards wants me to drop the police work. Johnson's just playing along by giving me a tangible reason."

"Fuck. She can't do that."

"Not directly, no. But the pressure's there, Jim. I just have to figure a a way around it."

"And if you can't?"

"Not an option."

"Glad to hear it."

"Glad to say it. Now, can we just go eat?"

Walking in step to the truck, Jim smiled as they climbed in and slammed the doors. "Any place in mind?"

"How about home?"

"Home?"

Blair leaned over, his hand on Jim's thigh as he whispered huskily. "I've got a sudden craving for an Ellison special."

Jim groaned with the teasing stroke to his crotch as he started the engine, praying his hard earned driving skills didn't fail him.

Sweaty and sated, Jim smiled, one arm behind his head, the other holding Blair's naked body next to his own. His lover lay quietly on the verge of sleeping, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. Tempted to let them both nap away the rest of the day, Jim kissed dark curls as he squeezed. "Come on, Chief. We've got to get back to work."

Blair groaned and stretched, but snuggled in closer as he complained. "Fuck work."

"A nice thought, but we need a shower and we need to leave in fifteen minutes. I'm running late as it is."

"Couldn't we just say we were kidnapped or something?"

Jim grinned widely as he remembered the urgent lovemaking, the heated kisses, the eager mouth sucking him to heaven. "Or something, but no dice. Simon would kill me."

Blair palmed his chest and then kissed Jim's left nipple before reluctantly rolling away. He sat up and ran a hand through his wild hair. "We need some time off, man."

"I think we just took some."

"I'm serious. We need to get away. Maybe we could go camping."

"It's winter."

"We could rent a cabin or go to a lodge."

"We could."

Standing up, Blair reached for his flannel robe and slipped it on. "You don't sound too thrilled by the idea."

"It's just sudden, that's all. I'm the one who usually talks about getting away and you're the one with excuses."

"I changed my mind."

Jim climbed out of bed and grabbed his black silk boxers, pulling them on with one motion. "It's Thursday. It might be too late to find something for the weekend."

Blair moved closer and wrapped his arms around Jim's bare waist. "You could ask Joel. He's got a cabin."

"Yeah, he does. I'll ask him this afternoon. You sure you can get away for the weekend?"

"Are you?"

"I'll make sure."

"Good. Call me when you find out. I'll be in my office all afternoon. I can come to the station by four if you need me."

Jim hugged him and then lifted Blair's chin gently. "I always need you, babe."

Blair pulled away with a grin and headed for the stairs. "There's a song in there somewhere. First dibs on the shower."

Jim followed behind quickly, aroused again by the thought of slick, soapy Blair flesh. "We've never showered together before."

"No, and we're not going to now."

Disappointed, Jim frowned, his voice near pouting. "Why not?"

Blair shook his head and laughed as he raced to the bathroom first. Just before he shut the door, he teased. "We're late, remember? Besides, I'm saving that for some time when we've got enough time to really enjoy it."

The door shut with a gleeful slam as Jim cursed playfully. "God, I'm in love with a slut."

From behind the door, he heard a hoarse chuckle. "Takes one to know one, man."

Jim entered the bullpen just in time to hear Simon calling his name. "Ellison. My office."

Once inside, he frowned at his friend's bad temper. "What's going on, sir?"

"You don't normally take two hour lunch breaks."

Flushing, Jim avoided his captain's glare. "I know, sir. I'm sorry, but you know I put the time in."

"Damn it, I know that." Simon lit his cigar, his movements fraught with tension.

"What's the problem, Simon?"

"I got a call from the Chief."

"You're not talking about Sandburg, I take it?"

"Of course not. Seems Edwards called the Mayor and the Mayor called him, and do you see where I'm going with this?"

Uneasy, Jim sat on the edge of the conference table, his arms wrapped around himself. "What did he say?"

"Apparently Edwards wants to know what the deal is with civilian observers. She's got a bug up her ass about Sandburg."

"We already knew that."

Simon shot a glance his way. "Well, I'm glad he finally told you."

"You knew?"

"Yeah. Seems she's been going at him tooth and nail since this thing with the Winslow murder. Blair says she thinks he's some sort of undercover spy or some stupid shit like that."

Jim stood up and paced, his fists clenched, his jaw locked for several long moments. "And what do the Mayor and the Chief think?"

"That it's a damn good thing you and Sandburg have the best arrest record in the whole damn state. I fed the Chief the line about a pilot program of civilian observers working with cops to enhance the social connection and bolster our interface with the public."

"And he bought that?"

"Hey, I can shovel it as well as the kid when I get motivated."

Despite his tension, Jim smiled. "I'm sure you can, sir. I've been on the receiving end on occasion."

"Don't start with me, Jim. I saved your ass today and you weren't even here to appreciate it." Simon puffed a couple of times and put his cigar down. "Okay, I won't ask what you were up to. Just take this as a warning. Be damn careful. Don't give these people any more to use against you two. Edwards is damn persistent and apparently she's in bed with the Mayor's wife."

"Literally?"

"No, Jim, not literally. Jesus. Get your mind out of the gutter. Do you have any idea how serious this is? If the Mayor decides to pressure the Chief, he's going to keep pushing. We might end up losing Sandburg."

Jim didn't miss a beat with his answer. "Then you'll lose me, too."

"Be serious."

"I'm dead serious."

Simon sat back and rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "I was afraid of that."

Jim stared out the window of Simon's office to the busy street below, not really seeing the cars, but seeing the weary face of his partner as he dropped him off at the university earlier.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"How's he holding up?"

"Well, he hasn't smashed any mirrors this week, so I guess he's doing better."

"What? What the hell are you talking about, mirrors?"

Jim turned from the window, Simon's befuddled expression staring back at him. "Didn't he tell you how he hurt his hand?"

"Working on that junky car of his, right?"

"Not hardly."

"Fuck. I can't believe he lied to me."

"What would you have said if he'd told you the truth?"

Pausing, Simon shook his head in surrender as he stood and picked up his mug behind his desk. "You want some?"

"No, thanks. He's on the edge, Simon. Everything's building up."

"If he hurt himself, I can see that."

Jim stepped to the desk and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the surface. "I need some personal time."

Startled, Simon stopped pouring and studied him. "Please don't tell me you've decided to go fishing again. I haven't recovered from that last time."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Jim persisted. "I want to take Blair away for a few days, maybe help him relax a little. We both need to forget about all this shit for awhile."

"You think going away will change anything?"

"Maybe."

Filling his mug completely, Simon sat down and pondered. After a few moments, he looked back up. "How much time are we talking about?"

"Not much. Just a half day Friday and the weekend."

"Lord knows you've got the days and Brown could use the overtime."

"Thanks."

As Jim stepped to the door, Simon stopped him. "Jim, when you see him, tell the kid I'm not amused by that little obfuscation of his."

"You tell him. He'll be in around four."

"Good. Fresh ass to chew. Something to look forward to. Makes the day so much brighter."

"Hey, H. Have you seen Joel?"

Looking up from a stack of reports, Brown smiled as he leaned back. "He's around here somewhere. Be a detective and find him."

"Don't be a pain in the ass, Brown. Where is he?"

Still grinning, Brown motioned towards the hallway. "Break room."

Jim hurried over and spotted Joel eating a tuna sandwich and drinking a soda. He sat down across from his friend at the round table. "Hey, Joel. Lunch?"

Without looking up, Joel finished chewing and wiped his mouth with his paper napkin. "Where have you been, man? We were supposed to go over the Benson case before we sent it to the DA this afternoon." He glanced down at his watch. "It's almost two. It'll take another couple of hours to finish if we're lucky."

"I'm sorry, Joel. I had lunch and just lost track of time."

"With Blair?"

"Yeah. You know how it is. Sandburg starts and you can't shut him up."

"Right." Nodding, Joel avoided his gaze and ate another bite followed by more soda.

"Are you upset about me being late? I said I was sorry."

"I know you did, but that's not what's bothering me."

"Okay, I'll bite. What's bothering you?"

Joel stood up and closed the door, his movements deliberate, his back to the glass. "This probably isn't the place, but I need to say this."

Jim sat back, his arms crossed and his gut nervous. "What?"

"You have to be more careful, Jim."

"Careful about what?"

"You work with detectives. We're not stupid. As far as I'm concerned, what you and Blair do on your own time is your own business, but a two hour lunch isn't your own time. It makes people ask questions, maybe the wrong questions that lead to conclusions that are better left alone. Am I making myself clear here, Jim, or do I need to be more specific?"

Swallowing his own embarrassment, Jim flushed and shook his head. "No, I get the picture. I guess I should've told you."

Joel sat back down, his hands together on the table, his voice calm. "It would've been nice, but I understand why you didn't."

"I guess you do. So, I take it someone's been talking?"

"Jim, you came back from lunch showered and wearing different clothes."

"Shit." Looking down at his green sweater, he cursed himself for being so stupid. "I didn't even think about it."

"I know. Of course, you could've been with a woman, but I figured the odds of that were pretty slim, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Considering Sandburg."

Jim leaned forward, his elbows on the table and rubbed his face with both hands. "I love him."

"I know you do, Jim."

"Does that bother you?"

"Why should it?"

Shifting uneasily, Jim shrugged. "I know you go to church."

"Some people in the church frown on it, but I figure love's a good thing. Lord knows, I've seen enough hate in my day to know the difference."

Words lumped in his throat, Jim swallowed several times before finding his voice. "I appreciate that, Joel."

"Well, appreciate this, not everyone is as tolerant. Beware of Booker and Tate to name two. Tell Blair to be careful, too. I'll watch your backs as much as I can, but you know how it works."

"Yeah, I do. That's one of the reasons I didn't say anything."

"I figured. Just don't let those special lunch dates go to your head and make you stupid, okay?"

Face red hot, Jim avoided knowing eyes. "I'll work on it."

"Good plan. Now, maybe we should shelf the chit chat and get back to work."

As Joel got up to throw away the leftovers and cup, Jim remembered his main purpose. "Hey, Joel, I was wondering about your cabin."

Sighing, Joel smiled and shook his head in amusement. "I've got the keys in the desk, man. Just take your own linens."

"He said that?"

"Yeah, he did, Chief. He's fine with it."

Blair nodded and smiled as he leaned in closer to Jim. "I always knew Joel was cool."

"Just don't let it go to your head. Not everyone feels like Joel or Simon."

No longer grinning, Blair sighed. "I know. Man, Simon was so pissed."

"That's what you get for lying."

"I didn't lie. I just didn't correct him when he jumped to conclusions."

Jim scoffed and shook his head. "Same thing. Simon's not someone to mess with." His voice softened. "What did he say after he got finished yelling?"

"You didn't listen in?"

"You wound me, Chief. Would I do that?"

"In a heartbeat."

"I'll have you know I was finishing a report with Joel. Besides, I figured you'd tell me. So, what'd he say?"

"Just that if I ever did that again, I'd have stitches in my backside."

"Ouch." Jim captured Blair's right hand and lifted it to his face, kissing the bandage. "Speaking of stitches, aren't you supposed to lose these tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'm glad, too. They itch."

"Serves you right. You're lucky your hand didn't fall off."

Blair pulled away, lying back and putting his legs in Jim's lap. "Rub my legs, man."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"Subject's closed. Now rub my legs."

Making a beleaguered face, but following directions, Jim kneaded the top of Blair's shins and then worked his hands up and down his calves. "You're so fucking spoiled, Sandburg."

"Look who's talking."

Jim tilted his head, but kept massaging Blair's muscles, rubbing and rolling the flesh beneath his steady fingers. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means tit for tat, man. We both do our share of spoiling."

Remembering the earlier blowjob and other ecstatic moments with his cocky partner, Jim conceded. "You've got a point."

"So, what about the cabin? Did you get it?"

"Along with time off for good behavior."

"Not too good, I hope."

Jim smiled at the sexy tease and gave Blair's crotch a couple of gentle strokes before returning to massaging his lover's lower legs. "I'm just working half a day tomorrow."

"Half day?"

"Yeah, I figure that'll give me enough time to stock up and pack by the time you get home."

"Good plan. Be sure to get plenty of beer."

"I was thinking wine, maybe even some candles and roses."

Blair closed his eyes, his voice slow and dreamy. "Bring them all, you big softie."

"You're falling asleep on me here."

"Better here than in the cabin, man."

"Good point."

Jim stacked his files and straightened his desk before signing over his last case to Brown for the weekend. He stood up and hitched his pants just in time to hear his captain call out. "Jim, I need to see you."

Glancing up, he noted the burrowed brow and frown. Shit. "What is it?"

"My office. Please."

Double shit.

Once inside, the door closed, Jim crossed his arms and waited.

"Jim, I'm sorry."

"What is it? Is it Blair?"

Simon shook his head, his hand on Jim's shoulder with a quick, reassuring squeeze. "No, of course not. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just hate that you're not going to be able to have that getaway weekend."

Relieved, but disappointed, he grumbled. "And why not?"

"I know you were looking forward to some downtime, but we just got a call. They've found a body. A professor called Chambers, dead at his residence. I think you should take it."

"Chambers? Claude Chambers?"

"The same. Isn't he the one mentioned in the Winslow notes?"

"He's also the one who hit on Sandburg and about half the male students on campus."

"Shit. I thought so."

"What's the report so far?"

"Looks like someone bashed in the back of his head. I just got the call. With the strain between the University and the police right now, I just thought we should keep this as contained as possible. Besides, Blair knew this guy. He might give us some insight into other motives and suspects."

"He was harassing people. I don't need Blair to tell me that. We already know that."

"Still, I think Blair could help on this. He knows how the school works better than you do."

"He's going to kill me."

"Make it up to him next weekend."

"That's if we find out who the killer is by then."

Simon walked behind his desk and poured some coffee. "Then I guess you'd better get started."

Frustrated, Jim headed out to his desk. Picking up his phone, he dialed Blair's number. It only took a couple of rings for his partner to pick up. "Hey, Chief."

"Hey. Are you off already?"

"Not exactly." Jim listened to the breathing and sudden quiet. "Chief?"

"We're not going."

"Something's happened. I need you on a case."

"Fuck."

"I'm sorry."

"I knew this was going to happen."

"It's okay. We'll go next weekend."

"Right."

"I know you're disappointed, but it can't be helped. Claude Chambers is dead. Simon wants us to work the case."

"Claude's dead? Since when?"

"Don't know yet. I need you to meet me at his house."

"Oh, man, this sucks."

"I know. Are you okay?"

A heavy sigh sounded in Jim's ear. "Not really, but I'll meet you there as soon as I can. I've got to call and cancel a few things first."

"I really am sorry."

"I know. Don't worry about it."

"You sure?"

"Just let it go, Jim. It's no big deal. It's not like I really expected it to happen. I'll see you as soon as I'm done here." The phone clicked off and Jim pulled the receiver away and stared at it, his mouth slightly open.

"Jim? You okay?" Joel stepped to his side.

Hanging up, Jim shrugged. "Not really." He dug in his pocket and held out the keys. "Looks like it's a bust. I pulled a case. I won't be needing these."

Joel pushed them back toward Jim, his dark eyes sympathetic. "Keep them for now. Use them when you can."

"You sure?"

"We're not going up until spring at the earliest."

Jim stuffed them in his pocket again and grabbed his coat. "Thanks." As he slipped his arms into the sleeves, he shook his head. "Sometimes this job is a pain in the ass."

"I know, especially when you're so good at it." Joel stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Word of advice?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let it become your life. It took me a long time to realize that and I almost lost my wife in the process. Don't let that happen to you, my friend. You deserve better."

Closing his eyes momentarily, replaying the long list of his romantic failures, Jim nodded. "I can't fuck this up, Joel."

"Then don't." The older man patted his arm and smiled. "Now, go do the job so you can get back to what's really important."

With a grateful nod and no words, Jim swallowed hard and headed out the door praying for a quick case and a long weekend.

The stack of files slipped through his fingers, scattering their contents all over the floor. "Fuck."

"Blair? You okay?"

Avoiding Jake's concerned gaze as his friend came through the door, Blair leaned against the desk, his arms braced forward. "I'm fine. Just clumsy."

Kneeling, Jake picked up several of the folders, careful to slip the papers back inside the right one. "You sure?"

"Don't do that, man. I'll get them in a minute."

"It's no problem."

"I said leave it."

Standing abruptly, hands up in surrender, Jake backed away. "Sorry, man."

Blair took a deep breath and apologized. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just being stupid." He sagged down in the seat and pushed back his fly away hair. "Claude Chambers is dead."

"What? You're kidding."

"No. Jim just called. He pulled the case and I'm supposed to meet him in a few minutes. I need to cancel some student conferences I scheduled." He flipped through a few pads on his desk and shook his head. "I just can't seem to find the list. I know it's around here somewhere."

Jake reached over and picked up a yellow pad on top of a precarious pile of papers. "Is this it?"

Snorting, Blair took it. "Fuck. I think I need new glasses."

"Well, maybe if you wore the ones in your pocket, it would help."

"Maybe."

Pulling over one of the chairs, Jake sat down beside him and leaned forward. "Let me make the calls."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't, but it's no problem. I've got a free hour between seminars. Besides, don't you have an appointment to get those stitches out?"

Blair glanced up at the clock and groaned. "Fuck. I forgot about that."

"Go now and then go meet up with Jim."

Meeting serious green eyes, Blair smiled. "Thanks, man. I really appreciate this."

"It's okay." Jake touched his arm, his voice soft. "That's what friends are for, man. We take care of each other, good times and bad, right?"

"Bad times more than good these days."

Fingers squeezed Blair's forearm. "Remember that Christmas when I got that bad case of strep?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you helped me out, Blair. Everybody else was too busy, but not you. Now it's my turn to return the favor, that's all." His throat tight, Blair found words too huge. Patting him on his back, Jake motioned to the door with his head. "Go on."

Standing, Blair grabbed his jacket and touched the knob before he turned. "I appreciate this, Jake. Amanda's really lucky to have you."

Sadness contorted his features and Jake looked away. "We're not together anymore."

"What?"

"We broke up a couple of months ago."

Frowning, Blair walked back to the desk. "Why didn't you say something? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It was a mutual decision. We both needed to move on."

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't know."

"You've been busy."

"Not that busy. You should've said something. Fuck, I should've noticed."

"Noticed what? There was nothing to notice. Don't beat yourself up because I didn't want you to know."

Blair pushed back his hair and shook his head. "I don't understand."

"You've had a lot going on. I just didn't want to add to it. Besides, I'm fine. There's no need to worry. When the right person comes along, I'll be ready. Amanda and I, well, we just didn't have the same goals anymore."

"But you seemed so right together."

"Yeah, we did, but things change." Jake waved a hand toward the door. "Now, go get your stitches out and find out what happened to Chambers. Frankly, I'm surprised someone didn't kill him before now."

"Why do you say that?"

"Come on, man. He was always putting the moves on. Horny son of a bitch probably just moved on the wrong guy."

"Did he ever move on you?"

"Sure, but I told him to go fuck himself. Why? Does that make me a suspect?"

"Not unless I'm on the list, too."

"No fuck?"

"No fuck."

"Does Jim know that?"

Blair wrapped his arms around his chest as he stood straighter. "Yeah, he knows."

"And they're letting him investigate the murder?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

Hesitating, Jake leaned forward just slightly. "Come on, Blair, I'm your friend here. You and Jim, you're more than just friends."

"We're best friends."

"Maybe, but you're more than that, too."

Uneasy, Blair pushed harder. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I used to think you were in love with Jim and that it was unrequited, which is why you were so unhappy. But then I met Jim and I know that's not the case. How long have you two been together and why didn't you trust me enough to tell me?"

Suddenly light-headed, Blair sagged back in his seat. "It hasn't been that long, only a few weeks. Honest."

"Are you keeping it quiet because Jim's a cop?"

"It's complicated."

"It always is. Anyway, I wish you'd told me."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." Jake glanced at his watch, his voice suddenly harder. "You better get going. We'll talk more later if you want."

Standing again, Blair stepped away and paused at the door. "I'll call you later tonight."

"I'd like that. Tell Jim he's a lucky man."

As Blair walked out and shut the door, the lingering regret of the tone hit him like a hammer. Fuck. Jake loved him, loved him like he loved Jim. How the hell did he miss that?

"Breathe, Chief. Keep your head down."

"God." Blair's breakfast lay in a big, lumpy puddle on the grass by the front steps where he sat holding his stomach, his body folded over.

"I know. It's ugly."

"What the hell did they hit him with?"

"We don't know yet. My bet is something with a marble base, something damn heavy."

"Fuck."

Rubbing small circles in the small of his friend's back, Jim kept his voice even and calm. "Just keep breathing."

"I'm breathing, damn it. I'm okay."

Jim studied the pale, clammy skin and shook his head as Blair tried to straighten up. He grabbed the back of his partner's neck and held his head down. "Not yet."

"Let me go, man."

"Why? So I can watch you fall over? Stop being so damn stubborn and trust me."

"I hate this."

"I know. Now, settle down. You'll feel better in a minute. The team should have him bagged up soon and you can go back in."

Still shaking, Blair's voice trembled. "Didn't you get to see enough before I started to puke?"

"No. I need to go over the scene again. I did get a good look at the body though."

"Tell me about it. Shit, what a mess."

"Whoever did this was pissed as hell."

"Or scared."

"Could be."

The coroner's team opened the door and rolled out the stretcher, the black body bag strapped on tightly. Once, loaded in the van, the doors slammed and they drove off. Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder gently. "You think you're up to it?"

"I'll be fine. Really."

"Come on then. Let's see if Serena's found anything useful."

Steadying himself on Jim's arm, Blair stood, the color still not completely returned to his face. He swallowed several times and then stepped toward the door. "Who do you think did this, Jim?"

Talking as they walked down the hall, Jim shrugged as he pulled on his latex gloves. "There's not enough to go on yet. He was naked, except for the condom, and hit from behind, so I'd say it was someone he knew and trusted."

"That might narrow it down."

"Any names you want to share?"

"None that I can think of right this minute, but I'd say it was a pretty short list."

Inside the bedroom, the taped outline of the body on the floor took up most of the space. Jim kneeled and spoke to Serena. "Anything yet?"

"A few hair samples. Lots of fingerprints. No murder weapon."

Using sentinel sight, Jim zoomed in on several blond strands of pubic hair on the unmade bed. "Did you sweep the sheets yet?"

"Just getting there."

"Good. I think our killer's a natural blond."

Confused, Serena smiled with good natured affection and shook her head. "And you say that because?"

Taking tweezers and an evidence bag from the forensics kit, Jim collected the hair and labeled it. "We need to know if we're looking for a man or a woman here, Serena. Think you could put a rush on this?"

"Sure. The used condom should give us more samples, too."

Jim patted her on the shoulder and stood up to see Blair turning and leaving the room. He followed him out to the porch and waited for his friend to calm down enough to speak. "What is it?"

"His wife has blond hair."

"So do a lot of other people."

"Pamela's supposed to be in Europe, but her things are back in the closet."

"I didn't see any women's clothes."

"In the other room. She and Claude had separate bedrooms. She must have gotten home early."

Frowning, Jim stepped closer. "And how do you know they had separate rooms?"

"Pamela mentioned it once at a party for the department. She said Claude snored. At the time I believed her. Now, after everything that's happened, I'm not so sure." Blair cleared his throat, his eyes avoiding contact.

"Are you saying you think his wife knew about his side action?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Claude acted like she didn't, but he could've just been fooling himself." He paused as he rubbed his mouth, the circles around his eyes even darker. "They were both my friends once, Jim. We talked. Mostly it was school shit, but sometimes it was more. This feels so wrong, man."

"I know it does. I'm sorry."

"We need to find her. She could be in trouble, too."

"If she killed her husband, I'd say so."

Glancing up, Blair shook his head. "We don't know that."

"We have to cover all the angles. If she's in town, why isn't she here?"

"I don't know, but I know who we can ask."

"Who?"

"Chancellor Edwards."

"Fuck."

"They're good friends. Edwards didn't like Claude much, but she's tight with Pamela and they serve on some of the same committees. In fact, I think they co-chaired the University Arts Council last spring."

Jim shook his head. "You know, sometimes this place seems a little incestuous."

"No more than cops, man." The words snapped, hard and cutting.

"I just meant..."

"I know what you meant. Just don't say it."

"Don't be so pissy."

"I'm not being pissy, man. I'm tired of all the bullshit. I work here. It's no worse than anywhere else."

"Just keep telling yourself that."

No longer pale, Blair's face flushed red. He took several long breaths and wiped his face with one hand to settle his temper. "Look. Let's not fight. Do you want me to call Edwards and set up a meeting or not?"

"There's been a murder on her turf. I figure she'll be expecting us. If she's not, let's surprise her."

"Not a good plan, man. She doesn't like surprises."

"Too bad."

Lips drawn thin, Blair stepped off the porch to the sidewalk and then turned around quickly, anger fueling the words. "Why the fuck do you bring me along if you don't listen?"

"I listen."

"When it suits you."

"Settle down. We'll call ahead if you want."

"Don't patronize me."

"Jesus, there's no pleasing you."

"This isn't about pleasing me, Jim. Don't you get that? It's about respecting my opinion. I'm on this case because I know this place. Either let me really help or fucking tell me to get lost. It's that simple."

"Nothing's that simple."

"Not with you, that's for damn sure."

Jim focused in on his lover's rapid heartbeat and breathing, his vitals all pumped up and racing. Coming off the porch, Jim lowered his voice as he stood beside him. "Look, let's go call Edwards and then we'll get something to eat. We need to calm down before we see her."

"You mean I need to calm down."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't fucking have to."

Pulling away, Blair stormed off to the truck. Jim took several deep breaths before he followed. Inside, he pulled on his seat belt, his guts knotted, his head just at the verge of a headache. "I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't respect your advice, Blair. I do."

"Then don't dismiss me like that. I know Edwards. You go in on her without warning, she'll get her back up even more and we won't get a damn thing."

"Then call her."

"You sure?"

"I trust your judgment." Sighing, Blair relaxed slightly, but still didn't look in Jim's direction. "You okay?"

Several seconds passed before Blair answered. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I blew up like that."

"You've been blowing up a lot lately."

"I know. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I feel so angry sometimes. That's not like me. I'm not used to it."

"You've always been pretty good about staying calm. It's one of the things I admire most about you. I can lose it completely and you've got it all under control."

"But not lately."

Jim turned in his seat, watching the emotions play across his lover's tired face, the hurt, the pain, the sadness. "So, what's changed, Blair?"

"I almost died. Ever since then, it's like everything's right on the surface. I can't seem to get a handle on it. Everything's so fucking raw."

His voice gentle, Jim leaned in. "I understand that."

Blue eyes met his. "Do you?"

"Sure. I was the same way after Peru. I just didn't have anyone to aim it at. The army didn't want me, not after what happened. I had no family, no wife. Just the job. I was pissed most of the time."

"What changed it?"

"I'm not sure, but Jack helped. He was just easy to be around. I guess that's why I felt so guilty when I betrayed him."

Swallowing hard, Blair looked away. "He was your best friend, but you still slept with Emily."

"I know."

"Why did you do that?"

"I did a lot of shit back then I don't understand, but that doesn't mean I haven't learned from it." Jim touched his shoulder, his grip gentle but firm. "I want this to work, Blair. I can't lose you."

"That's not going to happen."

"Then why does it feel like it?"

Face solemn, his eyes dark, Blair shook his head. "It's not you, Jim."

"But I'm part of it. You still don't trust me for a reason."

"We've been through this."

"Then we'll go through it again and again until you get it. I love you. There's no one else and there never will be again. You have to believe that."

"I want to."

"Then do it. Push all you want. Be as pissy as you want and I'll call you on it, but I'm not giving up."

Blair's voice choked the words, the sound wet with conviction. "I love you, too, Jim."

"Then why doesn't that make you happy?"

"I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of what's going to happen when you leave."

"Fuck. What do I have to do to convince you?"

Blair rubbed his face several times before he finally spoke. "This isn't about you, Jim. It's about me. I'm the one who's being insecure, not you. I'm working on it, but you have to be patient."

"I'm trying."

"I know, man, and I appreciate it. I know I've been a bitch to live with lately."

"Despite the moods and not sleeping, I've loved being with you the last few weeks."

Sneaking a peak sideways, Blair tilted his head with a question. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." Jim reached out and took his hand, holding it in his lap, down away from plain sight of the windshield. "Being able to hold you, to sleep with you, that's been the best thing that ever happened. I love loving you."

Blair grinned sheepishly. "You like the sex then?"

"You bet, but it's more than that. We've always had a connection, but this just completes it. I just want you to be able to relax and believe it's going to last."

"I want to."

Nodding, Jim sat up straighter and started the truck. "Tell you what. Call Edwards and then let's go home for lunch."

"Lunch? Didn't we get in trouble for that yesterday?"

"I'll take my chances."

Smiling, Blair picked up the cell phone, his voice lighter and more teasing. "Jesus, I'm in love with a sex-starved rebel."

"You better believe it."

Jim lay back frustrated and breathless, his lips swollen, his jaw sore.

"I'm sorry, Jim." Blair sat up and swung his bare legs over the edge of the bed. He pushed his frizzy hair back behind his ear, his face drawn and haggard. "Guess I'm just not in the mood."

Fuck. No kidding.

Palming Blair's back, Jim shifted closer, his voice a whisper. "It's okay, Chief. It happens."

"Not to me. I don't know what's wrong. I'm really sorry."

"Look, it's no big deal. You're just tired."

"No big deal?"

Double fuck. "I didn't mean that. I know it's a big deal to you, but like I said, it happens."

Blair swallowed hard, his arms wrapped tightly around his naked body, his hands tucked under his armpits. "Has it happened to you?"

"A few times, yeah."

"Really?"

"Really. I wouldn't lie about something like this just to make you feel better." Getting up, Jim pulled on his shorts and sat down next to Blair, putting his arm around his distraught lover's shoulders. Hugging him closer, he kissed his temple. "It'll be fine."

"I love you."

"I know."

"I wanted to show you."

"I came, you didn't. I'm the one who's sorry."

Blair closed his eyes, his body tense in Jim's arms. "It's not you, man. I just can't seem to relax. I feel like I'm going to fly into a million pieces sometimes."

"Is it the thing with school?"

"It's more than that. It's everything. School, the station, us. It's like there's just not enough of me to go around."

"You're too hard on yourself."

"Obviously not." Blair glanced down at his limp cock and shook his head in disgust. "What a time to wimp out, man. Your mouth is so hot."

Jim nuzzled against Blair's neck, his voice husky. "We could try again, babe."

"Thanks, Jim, but one humiliation a day is about all I can handle." Blair eased away and stood up. He pulled on his boxers and then reached for his jeans. "We need to get going to see Edwards. We've got an appointment in less than hour."

"We need to talk about this."

"We will later. Why don't you call in and see if Dan's examined the body while I fix us some coffee?"

Resigned, but not happy, Jim nodded. "Sure. Coffee's good." As Blair headed downstairs, Jim scratched his head. Stress and impotence went hand in hand. He knew that. He just didn't know how the hell to fix it.

"She's obviously hiding something. My bet is she knows where the Chambers woman is and she's covering for her."

Blair nodded as he stared absently out the truck window. "She sure knows how to lie though."

"Must be all the practice she gets when she's kissing ass with the alumni."

"Look, Jim, I know she pissed you off with her comments about me, but don't let your anger cloud your vision."

Jim shook his head as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, his shoulders tight and his lower back aching. "How can you just sit there and take that shit? She as much as called you negligent."

"So? I've been called a hell of a lot worse, especially when you're not there."

"And you just take it? Fuck."

"Calm down, man."

"No wonder you're so damn stressed out. I'd have punched a wall or kicked some ass by now."

"If you'll remember, I did punch a wall. Didn't help much."

Rage suddenly ebbed with the memory of his partner's damaged hand. "This is so fucked. You should quit. Come work at the station full time, or find something else to do."

"Like what? Open up a shop for wayward and misguided sentinels? This is my life, Jim, just like being a cop is to you. You know that."

"I just know it's messing with your head and I hate seeing you mistreated. It's not fair and I don't have to like it."

Blair took a deep breath and shrugged. "I don't like it much, either, but I live with it. I've been through rough spots at school before. It passes."

"But you didn't have me to help out then. I feel like I should be doing something."

"The best thing you can do is to let me handle it. You take care of the station, I'll take care of school."

Jim stopped the truck at a light, his head still buzzing with hostile words spoken in the chancellor's office. "But if you let me help you take care of the school business, maybe you wouldn't be having all these nightmares."

Biting his lower lip, Blair covered his mouth with his hand. He remained quiet until the light turned green and they drove on. When he spoke, his voice strained the words. "My nightmares have nothing to do with school."

"They don't?"

"No, man, they don't. School makes me uptight, sure, but what I'm dreaming about goes back to the fountain and Mexico."

A chill washed his skin as Jim's mind divided into watching traffic and bearing the impact of his lover's words. The air thickened and his lungs suffered. "You're still dreaming about dying?"

"Not exactly, but that's where it begins, with Alex and what happened between you two after she tried to kill me."

"Fuck. Why didn't you say something?"

"Because I knew it would hurt your feelings. Besides, it's not really about what happened. It's about worrying that it could happen again."

A horn blared as Jim slammed on the brakes, barely missing the car in front of them. Catching his breath, he blinked several times. Then he pulled into a bank parking lot to turn off the engine.

"What are you doing, man?"

"What's it look like?"

"Jim, I didn't want to tell you, but you kept pushing. I can't control what I'm dreaming."

"But basically what you're saying is that you still don't trust me to be faithful."

"That's not true."

"Then explain it to me, because I'm lost here."

Blair swallowed hard several times, his face drained of color. "Logan wanted me to tell you all along, but I knew you'd react like this."

"You've talked to your shrink about what happened with Alex?"

"Don't worry. I haven't mentioned anything about the sentinel deal. He just knows the surface details."

"Surface details?"

"Yeah, you know, how she killed me and then you brought me back. I told him about the shared vision. Then I told him about seeing you on the beach with Alex. Oh, and I mentioned the temple."

"The temple?"

"Yeah, but I didn't tell him about her frying her senses, just about how it felt to watch you kiss her." Blair's voice strangled the last words before he turned his face to the window. "She was a sentinel. She had something I can never give you."

Jim closed his eyes, his head pounding, the pressure building. "She had nothing but misery, Chief. Nothing. I felt sorry for her. I never fucked her."

"But you wanted to."

"That wasn't me. Fuck. I've told you what it was like for me. You talk about nightmares. Imagine what it was like not to be able to control your own body, to have someone manipulate you like that. She used me as much as she used you. She's a lost soul. I know what it's like to have your senses go crazy like that, to feel so lost you don't know what the fuck to do with yourself. She reached out to me because she was desperate. There was no love there, not like between you and me. There's no comparison."

"I know that, Jim."

"Then why the fuck do you keep throwing her in my face? I can't go back and change it. Why can't you fucking get past it?" Anger rolled the words fast and furious, the sizzle of his fear making them even sharper.

Blair's calm voice sliced through the cloud of his temper, diffusing the fog, but only slightly. "Jim, listen to me. It's not about you."

"Of course, it's about me. It's about what I did with every fucking woman I've ever been with. It's about why you can't trust me, why I can't trust myself."

A strong hand touched his shoulder, squeezing gently. "I do trust you. It's just that I have my own demons."

"What demons?"

"Not now, but maybe someday I'll talk about what it was like watching my mom play musical boyfriends. Or maybe I'll tell about how many times I've been with someone who's betrayed my trust. Right now all you need to know is that I love you. I know that the dreams are about my own insecurities, not any real possibility that you're going to leave me. You've told me you won't and you're a man of your word. I believe you."

Relaxing only slightly, Jim gazed into sad blue eyes. "Then why the bad dreams?"

"Because the subconscious doesn't play fair, man. He's an evil prick who ambushes in the dark and takes no prisoners."

Nodding, remembering some of his own nightmares and demons, he whispered, "I just want us to be happy. Why is that so damned hard?"

"I don't know, man. We've just got to keep trying."

Anger gone, Jim smiled and caressed Blair's cheek. "I'm nothing if not stubborn."

Capturing the hand at his face, Blair leaned in a little closer. "We're in public, Jim."

"I don't give a fuck."

"We're on a case."

Reluctantly, Jim sighed in surrender as he pulled away, his cock aching. "We're going to deal with this more later."

"I think we've pretty much talked it out already."

Jim glanced at his partner and shook his head with a sly grin. "I wasn't talking about talking, Chief."

Suddenly frowning, Blair shook his head. "I don't know, man. After what happened earlier, I..."

"After what happened, the best thing to do is just get back on the horse and keep riding."

Snorting with the comparison, Blair crossed his arms and winked playfully. "Here, horsey, horsey."

"That's pure stallion to you, babe."

"You want to do what?" Simon stood with his hands on his hips, his expression incredulous.

"I said, I want to bring in Chancellor Edwards for formal questioning."

Simon looked first at Jim, then Blair, and then back at Jim. "Have you lost your mind? I put you on this case to contain the problem, not make a new one. Jesus."

Undeterred, Jim continued, "If I find out she's lying about Mrs. Chambers, I want her arrested for obstruction."

"Christ." Simon sagged down in his desk chair and rubbed his temples with one hand.

Arms crossed, Jim stood stubbornly at the end of the conference table. "This woman's too cocky, sir. She needs to be taken down a few pegs. She's holding back and I need the advantage of taking her out of her office so she knows we're serious."

Simon shut his eyes momentarily and then focused on Jim. "Be honest here, Jim. Tell me this has nothing to do with the thing going on between her and Sandburg."

"I'm following leads, sir. Chambers died around midnight. We've got confirmation that his wife arrived home yesterday afternoon, but she's nowhere to be found. We know that Chambers had sex with a woman, a blond, before he died. His wife is a blond. Edwards is a close friend of his wife. She told us that she knew nothing about her return, but she was lying." Jim paused and took a breath, his arms still crossed, his face still stony. "This isn't about the fact that she's a bitch. It's about that she's withholding important information."

"Well, aside from the bitch part, that sounds pretty objective."

"Come on, Simon. He's right. Edwards isn't going to talk as long as she thinks she's protected by her position."

"And the longer we wait, the more likely it is that his wife could leave town." Jim stood and stepped closer to his captain's desk. "We need to move now before we lose her."

"We don't even know if the wife's guilty."

"She's the prime suspect. If she didn't do it, I'll lay odds that she knows who did."

"You realize if you bring Edwards in and you're wrong, all our asses will be in a sling?"

"I realize that, but I'm not wrong. Edwards was lying through her teeth when I asked her about Chambers and his wife. She knew he was sleeping around, but she said she didn't. She said she thought his wife was still in France, but her heart sounded like she'd just run the Kentucky Derby."

"You think she's protecting her?"

"Yes."

Simon leaned forward, his hands fisted together on the wood surface. "As soon as you pick her up, you might as well get ready to hear from both the Mayor and the Chief. She's got connections. Isn't there any way to go around her? There's got to be a way to track the Chambers woman without involving the University."

"We've already put out an APB. The exits to the city are covered. She's hiding in the city somewhere, Simon. The only way we're going to find her is to press Edwards."

"I don't like it."

"I get that, but we still need to do it."

Biting his lower lip, Simon glanced over at Blair. "What do you think, Sandburg? You think this is the only way to go about this?"

Uneasy, caught between Simon's stare and Jim's stony expression, Blair shrugged. "Nothing's the only way, Simon. I think Jim's right. She's our link to Pamela. I'm just not convinced that Pamela's guilty."

Nodding, Simon turned his attention back to Jim. "I want you to hold off on Edwards." Before Jim interrupted, Simon held up a hand. "Wait. Just hear me out. I need more than just your gut instinct on this one, Jim. I can't convince the people in charge without evidence. Bring me something solid and I'll back you all the way. Until then, I just can't okay you bringing her in. It's too volatile right now."

"What? You want a smoking gun?"

"That would be nice, but considering his head was bashed to pulp, not worth as much as the real murder weapon. Now, a nice, bloody club, that would do the trick."

Seething, Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, his head throbbing in frustration. "It's going to be a long weekend."

Simon stood up, his tone no longer so tough. "Why don't you two go on home? There'll be more to work with in the morning. The lab's just getting started."

Blair chipped in. "And we'll have the interviews from the neighbors, too. That could help."

Slapping him on the back, Simon edged Jim to the door. "Go on, Jim. Come back when you're fresh. I'll put some extra men on this and we'll tackle it then."

"Sure, sir." Walking through the bullpen, Jim stopped at his desk and picked up the files he needed.

"No way, man."

"What?"

"Leave them here. You can go over them again in the morning."

"There might be something I missed."

"Jim, put the files down and let's go home." Blair's voice carried no command, just a plaintive desire.

Reluctantly, Jim complied and grabbed their coats from the rack. "You want to stop and get dinner before we go?"

"Fine by me. It's either that or thaw some leftover lasagna."

"How about that new steak place over on Chelsea?"

Walking down the hall together, they ignored the world around them. Blair leaned in as he spoke, his voice hushed and playful. "I could do steak. I'm so hungry, I could eat a horse."

"I'll bet you could." The hostile voice came from the doorway of an interview room.

Jim halted and faced off Greg Tate. "You got a problem?"

"I've got no problem, Ellison."

"So what's your point?"

Tate wore plainclothes, his face rounded, his grey hair bushy. Older than Jim, his eyes amused, he smirked. "None to speak of. Just making conversation."

"Then make it somewhere else."

"It's a free country."

Stepping closer, his face in Tate's space, Jim stared directly into watery blue eyes. "You don't want to test that theory, Tate. Keep your wiseass comments to yourself from now on. Got that?"

"And if I don't?"

"Try me."

Eye to eye contest, Tate looked away first and shrugged. "Don't be such a tightass. I didn't mean anything."

"See that you never do."

Tate walked away and a stunned Blair stood by the elevators. "What the fuck was that all about?"

Sentinel hearing zoomed in on Tate's hateful cursing from inside the other room. "Fucking faggots."

Jim shook his head, pressing his hand in the small of his lover's back to guide him onto the elevator. "Don't worry about it, Chief. It's just Tate being an asshole."

Doors pinged shut and Blair leaned against the back of the wall, his face solemn. "It's more than that and you know it."

"What I know is, I'm not going to let a prick like Tate spoil our evening."

Edging closer to Jim, Blair sighed. "Think we could skip the restaurant and just go on home?"

"Sure. We could order out."

"That's fine. I just want to get home and relax."

Touching his shoulder, Jim smiled, his voice falling into a hushed whisper. "I've got just the way to do that."

Blair groaned in appreciation. "Why do I suddenly imagine a saddle and chaps, man?"

"Because you're into leather?"

"You wish."

"You bet."

Jim lay on his stomach, legs spread, his mind melting into golden streams. An eager tongue flicked between his ass cheeks, the vivid heat spiking shivers up his spine. Thumbs opened him up while Blair licked and nibbled, each slick probe pure heaven. He groaned as his lover alternated fingers with tongue, teeth with soft lips. Blair's whiskers burned his tender skin, an exquisite roughness layered with shudders. His cock throbbed as his ass quivered, his balls heavy and aching. He begged into his pillow, chanting Blair's name as he moaned for more.

Soft kisses feathered his backbone as Blair stretched up and over him to whisper in his ear. "Are you sure, Jim?"

"Yes."

And with one word the world changed.

Blair shifted on the mattress, the brief exposure shocking against the heated sweat of his flesh. The tearing of foil and the chilled fluid between his cheeks both scared and thrilled him. Firm hands guided his knees up and his hips higher as a slippery finger pushed in and out, his hole tight but willing. Moving into position behind him, Blair palmed Jim's hip as he held his cock steady, pushing in. The crown pressed forward, the blunt end spreading the rosy circle slowly.

Breathing quickened, Jim's ass burning, the delicious pain slowly spreading to his gut. He groaned as Blair thrust in harder, but going slowly, each determined push spreading fire through Jim's belly. God, he loved the feeling, the tremendous connection, the ripples of pleasure firing through his cock and flashing in his brain.

All the way in, Blair spooned himself across Jim's back. "You ready?"

The words tumbled from his flustered tongue. "Do it."

"I love you."

Eyes closed, Jim swallowed the meaning, unable to answer as his lover kissed the nape of his neck. He swam in the buzz swarming through his skin as Blair fucked him, the rhythm increasing, the pressure behind his eyelids building. Air sizzled in his lungs as he gasped, his breathing mere pants, every muscle on alert. His thighs trembled as Blair reached around to fist and pump his cock, the electric surge firing from his backside to his front. The explosion of coming rocked him, spun him out into giant waves of rapture as his body convulsed.

Throat raw from muffled screaming, he gulped in air only to find Blair lying on top of him, his cock still inside, salty tears wetting Jim's back.

"Blair?"

Without answering, Blair withdrew, careful to dispose of the condom. As he rose, Jim rolled over and captured his wrist. "Don't go."

"I want to clean you up."

"Later. Stay here. Let me hold you."

Nodding, his body still flushed, Blair settled into the hug as Jim pulled up the sheets around them. Snuggled there, head resting on the older man's chest, Blair whispered, "I love you so much."

Sighing deeply, Jim closed his eyes. "I love you, too, Chief. That was beautiful."

"It didn't hurt?"

"Did it look like it hurt?"

"Well, not from my side, but from yours, yeah, a little."

Still dreamy, his body floating on the cushion of coming, Jim smiled. "This is going to sound weird."

"What?"

"It hurt, but then it felt really good, better than anything I've ever felt."

"Really?"

"Really. And I'll tell you something else."

"What?"

"Kiss my ass like that again, babe, and I'm on my knees in a heartbeat."

Blair snorted and hugged him closer. "How about you kiss my ass next time?"

"With pleasure."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm in a Dickens novel."

Logan poured himself some water, but remained focused on Blair. The younger man stood at the window, his arms folded across his chest. "How so?"

"You know that line, 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,'?"

"How does that apply to your life?"

Blair leaned back, his eyes staring through the glass, but not seeing the scenery. "I was impotent. It wasn't a good feeling."

"You want to tell me what happened?"

"Or what didn't?"

"Or what didn't."

Clearing his throat, Blair moved to sit down, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. He pushed back his hair and replayed the images, the frustration, the awful failure. "We were supposed to go away for the weekend, but it fell through. It wasn't Jim's fault, but I was still really disappointed."

"What happened?"

"He caught a case, a bad one. Remember the man I told you about who harassed me, Claude Chambers?"

"Yes."

"Well, he was killed Friday. You probably saw it in the news."

Logan nodded, his face neutral. "I saw the coverage, yes."

"Anyway, I was a little upset. Jim and I, well, we were in bed and I just couldn't."

"Because of Chambers?"

"Not really. I was just too wired. I had all this stuff in my head. Jim was really trying, but it was useless."

"What stuff did you have in your head?"

"You know, stuff."

"Blair, you have to be more specific. Stuff isn't very helpful."

Uneasy, Blair sat back, his arms crossed again, biting his lower lip. "Well, there was the deal about the weekend. I was pissed at Jim for letting the job come first like always. I know it's not fair, but it was how I was feeling. Then there was Claude. He was an asshole towards the end, but he used to be a friend. But mainly there was Jake."

"Jake?"

"Jake Ragland, a TA from school. He's in love with me."

Logan sat forward, frowning, pen in hand. "You want to explain that?"

"He's a good friend. I don't know how I missed it."

"You're saying someone you work with made a pass at you?"

"No. It's nothing like that. I've just been so wrapped up in my own life, I missed all the signs. Anyway, it sort of threw me."

"Why?" Logan jotted down several notes, just glancing down periodically as his hand moved across the page.

"Why?"

"Why did it throw you so much?"

Blair pondered the question as he scratched his head. "I just didn't expect it. I guess it made me kind of sad."

"Why sad?"

"I know what it's like to be in love with someone you can't have."

"Are you talking about Jim?"

"Yeah, and Maya."

"Maya? You've mentioned her once before. You want to talk about her?"

"Not really. I'm just saying it fucking hurts and I don't like being the source of that pain."

Nodding, Logan sat back. "Do you think you're responsible for how others feel about you?"

"No, but it doesn't change that it's a bitch to deal with."

"So when you were impotent, you were mainly thinking about Jake?"

Blair shook his head, his eyes avoiding Logan's. "Like I said it was a combination of things."

"Are you still impotent?"

Flushing scarlet, Blair smiled. "Not anymore."

"So the next encounter was more relaxed?"

"More hot than relaxed. Jim and I are closer than we've ever been."

"And that would be the best of times?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time."

Blair paused, his face more serious. "I think a lot has to do with the fact that I finally told him about my dreams. He was pissed at first, but once he settled down, he understood that it was me with the problem. I haven't had a nightmare since I told him."

"Sounds like progress. What about the insomnia? Is it gone as well?"

"Mostly. I still wake up off and on through the night, but it's not so bad. I spend time thinking or watching Jim sleep. It's not as hectic as before."

"Hectic?"

"Yeah, I feel more relaxed and in control now. Sure, school still sucks and there are a ton of other pressures, but they don't seem as bad when I'm lying next to Jim."

"Do you think that's because you're feeling more secure in the relationship?"

"Probably. I know I don't worry so much now about Jim leaving or being unfaithful."

"Do you think that's primarily because of the sexual element of your relationship or because you've trusted him with your dreams?"

"Both. There's an intimacy now that we didn't have before."

"In what way?"

"It's hard to explain." Blair rubbed his palms on his thighs as he considered his answer. "Well, for one thing, it's the best sex I've ever had. Jim's a really good lover, but more than that, he opens himself up to me, makes himself vulnerable." Blair paused, wetting his lips nervously. "I've never had anyone trust me like that. Sometimes it's overwhelming, but mostly it just makes me love him even more. I never thought I could feel so strongly about another person until Jim."

"Does the power of that emotion scare you?"

"Sometimes, but not enough to make me want it to ever stop." Blair pushed back his hair as he sat back. "I get scared of a lot of things, but my fear of loving someone, well, that's low on the list."

"What about some of your other fears?"

Blair closed his eyes as he flashed on Jim facing off with Tate in the doorway. "I worry about Jim being hurt when some of the people at the station find out about us. A few friends already know, but there are some real pricks who could make it tough if we come out."

Logan tilted his head, his eyes intent. "Has something specific happened?"

"A couple of times this cop named Tate has made comments. Jim's gotten pissed and called him on it, but he's not the only one saying shit. I've heard his partner Booker say things and then there was a note."

"A note?"

"I got an anonymous note left in my backpack. I got rid of it before Jim saw it, but I know it was one of those two."

"What did it say?"

"Stupid shit about me being a faggot."

"Was it threatening?"

"No, just the kind of thing that makes your skin crawl."

"And you didn't tell Jim?"

"Hell, no. He'd go ballistic."

"Did you confront the person you think sent it?"

Blair shrugged, his hands clasped together in his lap as he avoided Logan's watchful gaze. "I could have, but I don't have any real proof it was Tate or Booker. Saying something would just draw attention to it. I guess I could've told Simon, but I didn't. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"But did it feel like a big deal?"

Hesitating, Blair frowned, his gut clenched at the anxious memory of destroying the note, the pile of ash neatly washed down the drain. "In the big scheme of things, it was pretty tiny. I mean, we're still trying to find Claude's killer and Chancellor Edwards seems to be making it a personal crusade to end my academic career. So, no, it's not really a big deal, not now anyway."

"Do you think the harassment by these particular men will escalate if your relationship with Jim becomes common knowledge?"

"I don't know. That's what scares me. See, with Edwards, I know where I stand. I've lived in that world long enough, I know what to expect. In Jim's world, I don't know what all the rules are. It used to be no holds barred against a gay cop, but things seem to be changing, just not fast enough to catch all the assholes like Tate and Booker."

"Do you think it's fair to Jim to keep the information about the letter secret?"

Blair jerked his head up in surprise. "What?"

"You've mentioned several times about how important trust is to both of you. Do you think it's possible that Jim might appreciate you sharing your fears about the letter?

Smacking himself in the forehead, Blair sagged back. "God, I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Blair. Changing your pattern of behavior isn't easy."

"I know. It's just that it's like I'm on automatic pilot about certain things. I hate when Jim gets angry."

"Is his anger directed at you?"

"Sometimes, but even when it isn't, it feels like it. My mom's not into anger and violence, so growing up, I just never saw much fighting." Running his hand through his hair, Blair swallowed hard. "That's changed since I met Jim. He's lived with violence most of his life, so he's used to it. Me, I feel paralyzed."

"When you say fighting, are you talking about fighting between you and Jim or the fighting you see through your work with the police?"

"Both. When Jim's upset or sad, he acts pissed. Most people just stay away or use me as a buffer."

Logan frowned as he bounced his pen on his pad. "Buffer? Can you explain that?"

"Jim can be very intimidating. I know he'd never hurt me physically, but, man, he's got my number. He knows just where to aim to hurt. At least with me around, he's less likely to do it to other people."

"Are you saying you take the brunt of his verbal attacks to keep other people happy?"

"I didn't mean that."

"What did you mean?"

Closing his eyes, Blair rubbed his face with both hands, his mind jumpy and too raw. "I just meant, I know he doesn't mean it and it's just easier to keep the peace by redirecting his anger."

"By aiming it at yourself?"

Blair shook his head and crossed his arms around his chest. "Look, it's not a big deal. It's not that often."

"Has it been more often since you became a couple?"

"Actually, it's gotten better. I just don't want to risk a blow up over some stupid letter."

Logan kept his voice calm as he clasped his hands together on his desk. "Let me approach this from a different direction, Blair. How would you feel if Jim didn't tell you about a letter or incident that had the potential to affect you both like this does?"

Blair pursed his lips and sighed in defeat. "I'd be pissed and Jim would be sleeping alone for the night."

"So what do you think you should do about it?"

Closing his eyes, Blair imagined Jim's expression, the disappointment, the clenched jaw, the icy blue eyes that stabbed at his heart. Regret painted his bones, his whole body tense, his mind anxious.

"Blair?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"How easy it is to fuck up."

"Is that what you think, that you've fucked up?"

Blair opened his eyes and sat up straighter. "I shouldn't have burned the letter. I should've told Jim right away. Yeah, I'd say I fucked up."

"You don't think Jim will forgive you?"

"He'll forgive me, but he'll still have that look."

"What look?"

"That look that says he knows he's in love with a fuck up."

Logan covered his mouth with his hand momentarily and then took a deep breath in frustration. "You made an error in judgment, Blair. That's not necessarily a fuck up. You can fix it and learn from it."

"Maybe, but it still feels like shit."

Nodding, his face solemn, Logan put his pen down. "I'd like to suggest something to you."

"What's that?"

"Do you keep a journal?"

"I keep one for my projects."

"Not a personal one?"

With a wry grin, he shook his head. "I used to, but I burned them all."

"Why's that?"

"I showed one to an old girlfriend and she got so pissed she dumped me. Said I was a dog. Jim told me my love life was criminal and I should destroy the evidence, so I did."

"Well, I'd like you start keeping one again, one that focuses on your feelings."

"Feelings?"

"Yes, your feelings about Jim, about what's going on in your life. You've got several very intense situations to deal with. Keeping a journal might help give you more perspective into your reactions."

"You mean my fuck ups."

"I mean your reactions. It's not a failure if you learn from it."

Blair rubbed his chin and frowned. "Would you read it?"

"Not unless you wanted me to."

Reluctantly, Blair sat back and surrendered. "I guess it couldn't hurt. I can't promise to write that much."

"Just try to write some each day, even if it's only a few paragraphs."

"I'll try."

"Good. Now let me ask you another question."

Blair groaned and glanced over at the clock. "Man, we've only got a couple of minutes left."

"Then I'll be quick. Have you told Jim that you think your friend Jake's in love with you?"

Unsettled, Blair shifted in his chair and crossed his arms. "Why would I tell him that?"

"A better question is why wouldn't you?"

The end