Author's disclaimer: Not mine, no money, no way, no how

Author's notes: Thanks to Aithine for the quick and dirty beta and to B & J's for some serious product placement . m/f vaguely implied, lyrics used sparingly.

We had attained "normal."

Sitting in my car in the dark, listening to the rain hit the roof and watching the loft, it really dawned on me. Normal was here. Normal was upon us. Normal had landed.

God, I hate normal.

Normal was being a cop, drawing a steady paycheck and paying union dues. Normal was shorter hair, wearing Dockers and finally getting the Volvo running three weeks out of four. No more an outsider, I was now truly one of the tribe and as such the invisible layer of protection once surrounding me was gone. Suck it up, Sandburg, you're a cop. Do your job, write that report - ok, that wasn't so new - and don't throw up near the crime scene, damn it. Ok, that didn't really happen but I've had a close call or two.

And Jim? Oh, Jim was way normal, now, at least as normal as a guy with enhanced senses could be. After four long years, he used his gifts and they didn't use him. His innate discipline had given him command over most of the things that triggered his zones, so they were pretty much a thing of the past. The spiritual stuff had subsided and we were both happy about that; Jim because he'd never been very comfortable with it in the first place and me because I knew I wasn't qualified to deal with it anymore, as anyone would know if they looked at my track record. My role had been honed down to its essence, but that was a good thing - in fact, it was the best scenario, all things considered. I didn't downplay my contributions; I knew I had the creativity and insight that Jim needed to find innovative ways to use his senses. That combination had us working together so successfully that most of my naysayers - of which there were plenty, right? - shut up and minded their own business soon enough.

Personally, we were - ok. Not great, but good. Whereas my detective status enhanced us professionally, in private it now worked against us somehow. It was as if by seeing me as an equal, Jim no longer saw me as special. Hey, I'm man enough to admit I missed that. Whatever the cause, it left me feeling vaguely hollow sometimes. Pretty much anytime I was awake, actually.

Anyway, Jim was normal. Jim had a girlfriend.

Normal had left me locked outside the loft and wishing a light would come on to tell me that she was getting up to leave so I could go to bed. Eleven o'clock, Jim said. No problem. Just enough time for you to pick up the expert witness from the airport, get the guy settled in his hotel, and buy him dinner courtesy of the city of Cascade. By the time I'd get home Jim and Terry would be - done - and life would go on.

But the witness arrived with a massive head cold and only wanted room service, a warm bed and the remote. Wasn't this guy's his fault he didn't know he was my date for the evening. After a quick stop at a drug store I got him situated at the Sheraton and left him ordering soup and juice. That was just after eight.

I grabbed a bite to eat at one of those huge franchise places out near the airport, sitting in the smoke-free bar so I could at least watch ESPN while I ate. That killed ninety minutes because I ate slow and ordered some turtle cheesecake thing while I watched the go-cart nationals. After that I went to Costco and priced some computer furniture. It was pouring when I left about ten thirty, feeling lousy because I knew I needed to save every dime for first, last and security deposit. Just like normal people.

Back in the car I pulled my watch out of my pocket. Eleven thirty-five and still no lights, her Lexus and his truck parked in front of me. Jim had planned a nice dinner, wine and everything, so no doubt after they had...afterwards they were a little sleepy, probably dozing off. Jim had promised me that Terry had no intention of staying because she had to be at work early and didn't want to drive home in the morning. Of course, the obvious solution to that was bringing an overnight bag. No one said so, but just because I'm normal doesn't mean I'm stupid. It was seriously looking like the one week joke had run its course.

Eleven forty-five and the windows were still dark. A year ago I would've felt sorry for myself, gone to my office at Rainier, and then fallen asleep at my desk. This year, the Rainier part of that scenario was not an option. The rest was standard procedure.

I tried to be annoyed but I just couldn't. Jim was due this, Jim deserved this - a nice, dare I say normal, girl lacking the requisite homicidal tendencies and a rap sheet as long as my arm. They dated, they did girl/boy things. He took her to a Jags game and she said she had no idea that basketball was so much fun. She asked him to a party at her office so he bought a new tie. He asked me to help him pick one out but I found myself busy that afternoon. Funny how that happens. Perfectly normal, right?

But, God, since when did normal include dying a little inside every day? Dying inside because it should be me lying next to Jim in a post-coital doze, in our home. Me, Blair Sandburg, a not-so-normal but oh-so-goddamned in love with his partner, hitherto mostly straight guy with acknowledged but barely acted on bi leanings who can't help but stare like a lovesick puppy at the balcony doors and wonder how much longer he was going to be welcome there.

Because right now, I wasn't welcome at all.

I started the car and pulled out; hey, a desk was a desk and at least the bullpen was relatively safe.

I'm not sure what woke me up, probably a car backfiring or something, but I do know that as soon as my eyes snapped open something was wrong. Ok, a couple of things were wrong.

First and foremost, there was a blond in my bed. A pretty, smart, hazel-eyed woman who liked sex, didn't like to cuddle and was a pretty fair cook. Normally, sure, this would be a good thing, except the only person I really wanted in my bed had blue eyes, made lasagna I'd overturn small countries for, and had dark brown hair. On his chest.

Which led to the second wrong thing. Forgetting for a second that I had asked Sandburg to get lost for a couple of hours, I automatically felt around for his presence in the loft. Something always gave him away, like the scent of freshly made tea or the soft rustle of sheets when he rolled over in his sleep. Below me now - nothing.

Third wrong thing - I twisted my head to check the clock on the nightstand. Shit! One forty-five. I reached over and nudged Terry's shoulder. She lay on her stomach, facing away from me, one bare arm flung over her head on the pillow. Her skin was cool and smooth, softly yielding to my prodding fingers.

"Terry? Hey, c'mon sweetheart, wake up. C'mon, time to go, it's late."

She wiggled her hand to tell me she heard me, then sat up slowly as she came awake. Swinging her legs to the floor, I concealed my impatience while she stretched, then reached for her clothes that had gotten piled by the foot of the bed.

"You gonna take a shower here?" I asked as casually as I could.

To my relief she just shook her head and went downstairs, clutching her stuff to her naked body as she headed towards the bathroom. As soon as I heard the door shut I had the phone in my hands and was pressing the speed dial.

After two rings, he answered.

"Yeah, hello, Sandburg," he said and I could tell he had just woken up. Ah hell, what if he was at some girl's and - "Jim, that you?" he said around a yawn.

"Yeah, it's me. Where the hell are you?"

Another yawn. "At the station. What time is it?"

"Almost two. Jesus, Chief, I'm really sorry about this -"

He laughed a little and it sounded forced. My guess is he was pissed about being kicked out so long but was trying to be a nice guy about it. "No problemo, Jim, I understand. Just promise me you'll return the favor some day, ok?"

Like hell I will, I thought snidely. "We'll see," I said noncommittally. "Look, Terry's just leaving. We, ah, fell asleep, obviously, but she should be gone by the time you get home."

"Hey, you know, she can stay if you want. That vinyl couch in the men's locker room has seen better days but at least it's -"

"Shut up and get your ass home," I growled but he knew it was in fun. Sort of.

"Yes sir, coming home sir, thank you sir," he replied. Unfortunately, he'd hung up before he could hear my usual response.

"Smart ass."

Ok, so no one is picking out china and calling caterers. I know it's only been a couple of weeks but Terry is so damn normal that, aside from her obvious charms, she must seem like an oasis of sanity for Jim.

What Jim might not see is that I'm normal now, too. Well, I guess the sad fact is I'm pretty sure Jim doesn't see me at all. Not since the scandal, the badge and the haircut. I think the haircut was the final descent into normalcy that Jim was waiting for, because the look on his face when I came back from the barber's was priceless. I think that's when he really stopped looking at me and started looking around. And son of a gun, if there wasn't this pretty lawyer named Terry whose idea of excitement was the opening of the new Prada boutique in the lobby of the Four Seasons.

Or, maybe Jim saw normal all over me like white on rice. Like the kind of guy he'd ask to be best man at his wedding or something. Actually, he'd have to ask Simon or Stephen because if that comes down this blue-eyed boy will be in Zimbabwe on that day, extremely incommunicado.

As usual, I'm jumping way ahead here. So far I hadn't found any of her stuff around the loft. Stuff like contact lens solution or the latest home decorating magazine. More often than not, Jim was over at her place, a little condo in the classy "I'm rich but not in your face about it" part of town. Terry's a corporate lawyer, too, not criminal. A nice, normal, well-paying job.

I couldn't actually dislike her; I just made sure I didn't have a lot of contact with her. Normal, yes. Masochistic, no.

A few days after she'd almost spent the night I got a phone call from Michelle, an old girlfriend of mine who was in town for a conference and wanted to meet for dinner. Mich is a very cool person and at one time she and I were thinking about a serious commitment. Not marriage - backpacking across the Canadian Rockies, which was about as committed as I wanted to get at twenty-two. She tracked me down at the station and, while totally blown away that I'd become a cop, she was also interested in hearing the story. As I sat there talking to her, I noticed Jim. He was pretending to be absorbed in work but I could tell he was listening to my conversation.

Both sides.

What the hell? I thought. What does he care? Sure, I was pissed off that he invaded my privacy - and as far as I know that was a first for him that didn't involve a hostage situation - but here was an opportunity to get together with someone who knew me. Someone who cared about me.

Someone who once loved me.

Dinner plans were made with enthusiasm; work was dispatched with unseemly haste. Jim became grumpier as the afternoon wore on, even though I knew full well he was taking Terry to that new seafood place down on the waterfront. Just that morning he'd been rubbing it in that he was going to try it out before I was. Well, screw it. Mich and I were meeting at the Inn at Clover Point. Strange, when I suggested that to Mich, Jim had slammed a drawer shut, causing everyone in the bullpen to stop and stare at him. One thing about Jim, you cannot outstare this guy. After defeating all comers he went back to work - but I knew he was still listening.

I opted to head out before he did, intent on a shower and a change of clothes before dinner. I logged off, grabbed my jacket, and walked around to his desk.

"Hey, yo, Jim, any chance you'll be spending the night at Terry's? Mich and I have a lot of catching up to do," I said teasingly, the old wink wink, nudge nudge act. I had no intention of bringing Mich home and I figured Jim knew it and would smart mouth me back. Instead, he looked up at me with cold, cold eyes.

"Don't even think about, Sandburg," he said bluntly, not an iota of humor to be found in those baby blues. He stood up, deliberately towering over me. "That's one rule you'd better not ever break, you got that?"

His tone pissed me off. This was an old, comfortable joke between us and suddenly he's leaning on me like the bad cop side of an interrogation. I guess my nerves were pretty much shot over the whole Terry thing because once again my mouth overruled my head.

"Yeah, I got it, Jim." I kept my voice low but it was shaking with anger as I went on. "It's ok to kick me out so you can knock boots with Terry but God forbid I should want the same thing. Maybe it's time I moved out of that closet and find a place where the only goddamn rules I have to follow are my own!"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth I hated myself. And I hated Jim for making me say them. But he was nodding his head, his jaw tight as a drum as he looked somewhere over my head.

"Yeah," he said quietly, finally meeting my eyes again. "Maybe you should."

I felt like he had punched me in the gut. I wished he had. Wouldn't have hurt as much, anyway. "What?" I said stupidly, like I couldn't believe my ears. Unfortunately, since I'd played this scene over and over in my head ever since Alex, it was pretty easy to believe. I just didn't want to.

"You heard," he replied, tightlipped and frowning.

There was nothing else to say. I gave him kind of a jerky nod and swallowed. He turned away and sat at his desk, hard, like the weight of the world was on him. Then his phone rang and I moved off towards the elevator. After pressing the down button like it was the most important thing in the world, I took a deep breath and forced myself to turn around.

He was staring at me, phone forgotten in his hand. Our eyes locked and I realized that this was the beginning of the end for us. And now - oh yeah, now I knew. I thought I knew what pain was, what heartbreak was. I thought it was being thrown out of my home. I thought it was waking up in the hospital after the fountain. But now I saw that all that had happened under a set of circumstances that were far from normal.

Now, normal meant that my heart was irretrievably - finally - broken.

The elevator doors opened behind me and I left.

God damn it.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. As soon as he said the words I knew we'd gotten it wrong again. How could the one damn thing I wanted to never happen again - Jesus, how could it have gone so bad so quickly?

Yeah, I was wrong to listen to him on the phone. It was none of my business, right? But as soon as I got the drift of his conversation I couldn't help myself. I mean, what the hell. I'd been punishing myself for years now, watching him pant after everything in sight. What's one more fuck-up in a long line of fuck-ups? Visions of him making love to some woman flashed over and over in my head while they talked and I felt the rage start to build. By the time he sauntered over to my desk I was furious and I knew exactly why.

Terry's great. Beautiful, intelligent, funny in an upper class, self-deprecating way. In bed she was good, no doubt about it, but mechanical. She pushed the right buttons and made the right sounds and generally seemed to have a good time. But when it was over she didn't want to kiss or be held or even talk. I didn't miss the talking so much but the way she just rolled over afterwards always left me feeling like a jerk.

But I slept with her because I wasn't a monk and the one person I wanted more than anything in the goddamned world wasn't interested. So instead of being adult about it I rubbed his nose in my relationship with Terry. Hell, we could have gone to her place a couple of nights ago but I needed Blair to see me, I don't know, like I was desirable or something. Then, idiot that I am, at the next sign of him starting a relationship of his own I drove him right out the door. Again. And for no good reason other than I was jealous and couldn't stand the thought of living under the same roof with him and thinking he was in love with someone else.

I wrapped things up at my desk and took off, knowing Sandburg was meeting "Mich" at six and figuring I'd given him plenty of time to clear out of the loft. My plans were to run home and change before heading out to the financial district where Terry said she'd meet me for a drink before we went out to the marina. By the time I got home, Sandburg had been there and gone, the steam from his shower carrying his scent through the loft, all the way up to my room where I stood for a second, eyes closed, breathing it in and wishing to God I had something to offer him to make him stay.

I quickly changed and was back in the truck on my way downtown, wondering if the cold knot it my gut would allow me to eat later. My mood wasn't enhanced by the Friday night traffic, either. Stuck behind a BMW, watching the light half a block away turn red for the fifth time, I felt the bands start to tighten around my chest. With that old quote about music soothing the savage breast or beast or whatever, I leaned over and turned on the radio.

I regretted it when Barbara Ann by the Beach Boys came blaring out at me - asinine, atonal song - but it was just finishing up so I stuck it out. A few seconds later I was glad I did. The smooth tones of Jimmy Ruffin floated out, a perfect song for my rotten mood. I started out half-listening but as the words began to sink in I sat up and paid attention, every line digging a deeper hole in my heart.

As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
Love's happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion

What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love that's now departed
I know I've got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, maybe

No broken heart ever felt like this. Sure, I thought Veronica broke my heart. Lila, God, that hurt like a son of a bitch, too. But this, this is what they call soul-deep. The only good thing in my life was being wrenched away because of my stupid pride.

That was it, wasn't it? Using pride to cover the fact that he had become my entire life. Not that any huge declaration of love would make Blair stay but there was so much I needed to give him that honesty seemed like the best place to start. He needed to know he owned me, all of me - whether he wanted to or not. It was time to stop being a coward.

Why now? Hell, I don't know. Me, I'm the king of denial. I knew I had it within me to let him walk. In fact, I'd imagined the whole thing so often I could picture it perfectly. It came in different ways, the most popular and painful being him finding the woman of his dreams and asking me to be best man at his wedding. You name it, I've imagined it.

But it was never the other way around. In my imagination I was never the one who looked up someday and saw that new horizon or opportunity or relationship. I never pictured myself falling in love with someone and bringing her home to meet Blair, asking him to be best man at my wedding.

That scenario just never occurred to me.

So first off I owed him an apology. Maybe that was the way to start. Clear the air, let him know I didn't want him to move out and that I'd been out of line. I didn't have to lay the rest of the story on him, not tonight. I mean, shit, the guy was on a date, for crying out loud.

Oh hell, so was I - or would be soon, anyway. Damn it, the idea was so unappetizing. I could see it now - I'd try to order a beer in some overpriced bar that had stuff on tap no one had ever heard of. Terry would order one of those stupid girl martinis they drink on tv and complain that it wasn't as good as the one she had in Seattle and then proceed to regale me with the stories from the exciting world of corporate law.

No way. Recaulking the bathtub was sounding downright tempting in comparison but there was something I needed to do first.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the cell phone. Looks like I still had at least one more red light to get through so as one hand was thumbing the redial for Terry's number, I flipped the right hand signal. If I could get over to the turn lane I could take Ninth to the freeway onramp.

When Terry answered I winced, the background noise from the bar piercingly loud. No Sandburg around to remind me to dial it down.

"Hi, this is Terry," she said, like she was answering her office phone.

"Hey, Terry, Jim. Look, something's come up and I'm gonna have to bail on you tonight."

She laughed and I frowned, then realized she was reacting to something going on in the bar. She came back to me with another laugh. "Oh, sorry, Jim, hey, that's ok. Really! Some people from the office are going over to Hannigan's, I'll just go with them! Don't work too hard! Bye!"

Well, that was easy enough. Of course, walking on broken glass would seem easy in comparison to what I was about to do.

The Inn at Clover Point was one of those incredibly romantic places, like the ones that end up those "Best Places to Kiss" books. Beautiful grounds, sweeping views of the Cascades, conference rooms, health spa - the works. Meeting Michelle out there wasn't the greatest idea given the state of my finances but I needed the change of scenery. A nice dinner with an old friend sounded like a slice of heaven.

We found each other in the hotel lobby and hugged like idiots. Then we had a good long laugh about our hair. Whereas I'd had the shoulder length locks when we dated, she'd had platinum blond hair about half an inch long. Now, she had longer hair that was actually a color found in nature, wore nice clothes and a pair of gold hoops - in her ears. She cooed and fussed over my new cut, making it a bigger deal than it really was.

The restaurant had a huge picture window overlooking rolling lawns that led down to a lake. We were seated right next to it and I gave Mich the seat with the view, which left me more or less facing the dining room. Glancing around, I realized that I hadn't quite gotten over feeling that small twinge of relief when I went unnoticed in a room like this. No whispers, no pointing, nothing. We got situated, ordered drinks and set the menus aside so we could catch up. And man, did we have a lot of ground to cover.

I thought I kept it together pretty well. Naturally, any retelling of my recent life was going to have a lot of Jim mixed in but I tried to keep my remembrances funny and detached and as far away from the dissertation as possible. When she finally asked, I told her it was a combination of misunderstandings, office politics and poor judgement on my part and she accepted it. It was close enough to the truth that I didn't feel too slimy after reciting it. As we talked I nursed my second Hefeweisen, sticking more with water for two reasons: one, I had to drive home and two, my emotions were so near the surface that it wouldn't take much to get me crying in my crab cakes, which would really be a waste at nine bucks a pop.

The table we were given turned out to be a bit of a hindrance to our reminiscing. With such a great view, it was no wonder that I felt I only had Mich's attention maybe half the time. About the time the salads arrived, Mich got a really distracted look on her face so I decided to call her on it.

"Hey you," I said gently, drawing her attention back to me. "This is some of my best material and I gotta tell you, you're a really tough room tonight." I smiled, showing her I was kidding.

She gave a little laugh and shook her head, then grew serious. "Blair, this Jim. He's like your best friend, right?" There was something in her eyes, sympathy or something. I couldn't quite pin it down.

I took a sip of water and then nodded, ignoring the dull thud of pain in my chest. Guess I'd better get used to it. "Yeah, sure, he's a great guy. Helluva cop, too. Did I tell you he was Cop of the Year a couple of years ago?" She nodded, raising her eyebrows and biting her bottom lip. "Oh, right, I did. Yeah, anyway, great guy, really. Great." I cleared my throat and took another sip of water.

"Right, he sounds...great." She patted her lips with her napkin before replacing it in her lap. "You know, I bet I could describe him, just by everything you've told me about him."

She looked at me sideways, teasingly, and I felt a reminiscent tug of affection. "Ok, I'll bite. Give it your best shot." I crossed my arms over my chest and grinned at her.

Mich leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. "Ok, he's a cop, so he should have a pretty good build, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm a cop too, so where does that get you?"

She rolled her eyes. "God, Blair, quit fishing for compliments. You look great and you know it. Funny, though, I didn't think they'd let you get away with that." She waved a finger towards me, ignoring my flush as I self-consciously fingered my ear. We fell silent as Mich continued to look out the window. The sun had gone down and the grounds were lit with fairy lights strung through the trees. Did I mention this place was romantic?

"Ok," she finally went on, "so he's got a nice body. You said he was older than you, right? Early forties, maybe? Bet he's tall, too."

I snorted. "C'mon, Mich, this is easy stuff, lucky guesses."

"Hey!" She slapped my arm playfully. "I'm not done yet! Ok, I bet he wears his hair, dark, I'm thinking, really short. Probably a receding hairline but hey, with that body, who cares?"

My head jerked up and I looked at her sharply, getting nothing but wide-eyed innocence in return.

She leaned in conspiratorially. "Bet he stands around with his hands on his hips a lot, looking really stern and macho but underneath he's just a big ol' softie." Her smile held more than a little triumph.

"Ok," I said suspiciously, "you've seen him, right? Maybe on the national news during those church bombings a few years back, something like that." I forced a chuckle. "That's good, Michie, that's really good. You almost had me there."

"I'm not done yet."

I sighed. The game was getting old and frankly, Jim was the last thing I wanted to be discussing right then. Looking around for the waiter, I said, "Man, how long does it take to rope a free range chanterelle in this place -"

"And I bet you're in love with him."

I choked. "Me? No way, you are so way off base with that! Jeez, it's me, remember? Blair Sandburg, scourge of sororities everywhere! How'd you get a crazy -"

She rested her hand on my arm. "Blair, relax, ok? Where is all this denial coming from? I mean, it's so obvious anyone could see it. He's all you've talked about all night. Besides," her fingers stroked along my sleeve, "he's probably in love with you, too, so what's the problem?"

I pulled away and raised my hands in denial. "No way, Michie, no way. You don't even know the guy, how can you say stuff like that?"

"Because I think he's been standing at the edge of the lawn and staring at us for the past half hour."

When Blair swerved in his chair to stare at me, my initial instinct was to run like hell. What stopped me was the concern in his eyes. With a bolt of insight I realized he was worried about me and for an instant I loved the thrill it gave me, knowing once again I was the center of his focus. If that didn't have me frozen in my tracks, the gleam of silver from Blair's earrings would have. So that's what she was referring to when she made that crack about getting away with something. It'd been a very long time since he'd worn them and the surge of jealousy I felt would've powered a small city in California.

He wore them for "Mich".

Damn it.

Then he was out of his chair and moving back through the dining room. His date and I exchanged cute little waves while I waited for Blair to join me. She leaned her chin on her hand and studied me frankly - not as much as I had studied her, of course - then she gave up when their entres arrived. I watched with amusement as she looked first at her plate, then at his, then at me, finally cadging some of Sandburg's dinner without any apparent guilt. I liked her. To a point.

This hadn't been the plan, actually interrupting his date, but I guess it was going to have to do. I'd figured I'd just wait through their dinner, then maybe get him afterwards on some police business pretense. I was sticking to the vague, cowardly idea of just apologizing and telling him not to move out, but as I'd watched and listened to him tonight I realized I'd well and truly had enough of dancing around this whole thing. Besides, chances were pretty good that once I'd told him the truth he'd be packed and out the door by morning.

So, I guess I wanted to get caught spying on him. For a while I'd managed to just kind of wander around the edge of the grounds, keeping my ears attuned to his conversation and exchanging nods with other strollers. But as the night had deepened and the people had disappeared, I gave up the game, parked myself near a tree, and listened. Seemed to be the order of the day for me, eavesdropping on Blair. But, God, I was glad I did.

Anyway, I didn't have long to wait. Out of the lodge he came, headed towards me at a half-trot now that he'd figured out it wasn't a dire emergency, otherwise he knew I'd have called him. I backed up closer to the lake, moving down a small set of concrete steps and behind a dense screen of trees and bushes. It turned out to be perfect, a little alcove of privacy that opened on to the water. From there we would be completely sheltered from the prying eyes of dinner patrons and perky dates.

The sun was long gone and the only illumination came from the white Christmas lights strung through the trees. It was still fairly warm and there was just enough of a breeze to cause tiny ripples in the lake. I was looking away from the little break in the bushes that served as the entrance, staring out at the water, when Sandburg joined me.

He stopped about ten feet away. I heard him swallow and closed my eyes as everything about him began filling my senses. With another twinge of jealousy I recognized he carried a little bit of his date's perfume with him. Shaking it off, I turned to face him.

Funny, I knew Blair was special the day I met him; I just couldn't articulate why. He knew about my senses and he was going to help me and that was all I needed from him then. I didn't see him as a friend, I didn't think he was good-looking and I didn't care about his stupid thesis. He wore too much jewelry, ate weird food and dated weirder women. Now, more than four years later, the earrings were suddenly back, he still ate weird food - a mushroom for dinner, for God's sake - but if I had my way he'd never look at another woman, weird or not, because I was so fucking in love with him I ached with it. I just had to figure out a way to tell him because with our track record in communication, things could end up worse than they'd ever been. Except for once.

Nothing could ever be that bad.

Understandably, he was looking at me with concern. But his eyes were also guarded, no doubt remembering the last words we'd exchanged. Shit, with the crap we've given each other in the bullpen you'd think we could hardly stand to be in the place.

"Uh, Jim, you ok, man? What's up?" He swallowed, his eyes straying away from mine and then back again. "Where's Terry?"

Jesus, I loved him. There he stood, hands on his hips, eyes not quite hiding the hurt but gamely trying to see past it in case I was in trouble. You know, some day I'm gonna hunt down the guy who cut Sandburg's hair and either kill him or kiss him. One Saturday afternoon a few of weeks ago, Sandburg takes off, hair all scraped back in that pony tail he managed to hold on to no matter what the brass said, telling me we're out of bay leaf. I could've told him we had some in the pantry but when he got back I saw it was just an excuse for him to slip out without me giving him any grief. And you'd better believe I would've given him a truck load if I'd known where he was going. But any thoughts of teasing him flew right out of my head when I got a good look at him.

God damn it, why didn't anyone ever tell me Blair Sandburg was so fucking beautiful?

Yeah, sure, I'd finally figured out he was good looking; I'm the last person in the world you could label as blind. But he was just - Sandburg. Ok, my Sandburg, but still. For years, I'd watched men and women both come on to him, drawn in for a lot of reasons. Hell, probably the same reasons for which I'd already fallen in love with him.

But late that Saturday afternoon when he stood in front of me, his hands on his hips as he waited for my reaction with a half shy, half don't-give-me-any-crap grin, I felt like I'd been sucker punched.

Where the hell did he get off hiding that bone structure behind all that hair? And what was up with his eyes? All of a sudden I'm seeing how big they were, that they're this color that defied description, had a shape that bordered on erotic.

As for the haircut itself, like I said, the barber was a goddamn genius. The long curls were gone, replaced with all these soft-looking ones that fell across Blair's forehead and wrapped around the collar of his denim shirt. It wasn't short by any means; in fact, I'm pretty sure it was still longer than anyone else's in Major Crime, except Connor's.

Speaking of Connor, she summed it up nicely when she saw Blair that Monday. I was in a position to watch her when she first saw him, to see her eyes widen as she pulled in a deep breath and rose from her desk.

"My God, Sandy," she'd murmured as she watched him cross the bullpen, "look what you've been hiding." Ten seconds later she was perched on the edge of his desk, skirt hitched up to show off those long legs. Sure, she teased him about the haircut but it didn't take fucking sentinel senses to see what was on her mind. Sandburg just lapped it up.

That was about the time I decided to either put my fist through a wall or get laid. Enter Terry Larson, blond and willing - the exact opposite of Blair Sandburg.

Weeks later, I gave a brief thought to how strange this was - me, breaking a date with a beautiful woman, flying out here to break up his date with a beautiful woman. Before the strangeness could get to me I spoke up.

"I don't want you to move out of the loft."

His eyes widened as his hands dropped to his sides. "That's it? You came all the way out here to tell me you didn't want me to move out?" There wasn't any contempt in his voice, just amazement.

I nodded and glanced out at the water. "Yeah, I did."

"Jim," he said, half laughing, "you do you know how abnormal that sounds, right?"

I looked back at him, smiling a little myself. "Yeah, SOP for us, right?"

His smile faded. "Man, you coulda called, we coulda talked about this later, you know."

I swallowed, still holding his gaze. "No. I wanted to clear all this up right now."

Frowning, he stepped closer, just about within arms reach. "Sounds ominous. I mean, don't get me wrong, I totally appreciate the fact that it's probably way past time for me get my own place what with you and Terry getting so close and all and -"

I made a cutting motion with my hand. "Forget about moving out for a sec, ok? Look," I went on in a rush, stepping forward and resting my hands on his shoulders, "it's about more than you finding your own place. It's about us, it's about...it's about what you mean to me." I could feel his muscles bunching beneath my fingers and I knew he wanted to move away. Tightening my grip, I took a step closer, locking my eyes on his. "Just listen, Blair, ok? That's all I'm asking here. Just listen."

He nodded fitfully and took a deep breath. His eyes were so big, so questioning, that as he looked up at me I couldn't help releasing one shoulder to run the back of my hand down his recently shaved cheek. He shuddered slightly but didn't pull away - and for the first time since that afternoon I started to relax. I even smiled a little as I watched my fingers caress him under his chin, sliding lightly over his jaw line before returning to his shoulder.

"What are you doing, Jim?" he asked softly, voice steady.

Returning my eyes to his, my smile widened. His pupils had dilated and his breath was coming quicker. That could either mean he was scared out of his mind or -

"Some genius you are," I murmured.

"Jim, you're freaking me out here, so let's cut to the chase because in case you haven't noticed I'm on a date and my thirty-eight dollar dinner is congealing as we speak." His words washed over me, meaningless, at odds with the look in his eyes. "You asked me to listen, so talk," he added gently.

Ok, I thought to myself, I can do this. No, I wanted to do this. Looking him straight in the eye, I found my courage there, just like always. I spread my fingers across his shoulder until my thumb reached his earlobe and brushed across it, gently nudging the hoops. He waited patiently beneath my hands and I took a deep breath. That's when I felt the first tingling at the back of my throat, but I dismissed it - this was too important.

"First off, I don't want you to move out because I'm so damn in love with you I can't see straight and second, your dinner isn't congealing because your date helped herself to it about five minutes ago."

His eyes jerked away from mine, then back again, a frown forming as he muddled through my declaration. I continued to caress his ear, sometimes sliding behind to card through the soft curls at the base of his neck. My heart thudded in my chest as I watched the emotions play over his face until finally, finally, he started to smile, his eyes becoming fixed on the knot in my tie. I grinned in return and he stepped closer, crowding me, hands still at his side.

That's when I knew I was going to survive. But no straight profession of love in return, not from this guy, no way.

"So, Michie ate my dinner, hunh? That figures," he said, his voice low and smooth. He tilted his head up so that when he spoke his breath danced across my lips. Then he raised his eyes to mine, dark lashes slowly unveiling that incredible color, revealing a heartstopping response I'd only seen in my dreams. Needing to get closer, I slid my hands down the length of his arms until his hands rested firmly in mine. Giving them a squeeze, I pulled until his arms were wrapped lightly around my waist, then let him go to frame his face with my palms.

"Yeah, she did," I whispered, pausing to see the answering hunger in his eyes before lowering my mouth to his. "Jesus, Chief, the women you date."

Normal is so overrated.

If I were normal I wouldn't be standing at the edge of some lake, tightly wrapped in Jim Ellison's arms and experiencing the most incredible kiss of my life. Normal was not the overwhelming feeling that the world had finally righted itself, the same world that was tipped over the day I was bodychecked up against the wall of my old office.

Normal would be so much less than this.

Jim's arms were strong - this was not a big surprise. Hey, I've been here before but under circumstances that usually included blood - mine, unfortunately - or some other entirely unpleasant outside influence. But now they were gently supportive as he held me through the onslaught of his first kiss. He kissed me, I kissed him, it didn't matter. Maybe in a normal world I would have had the chance to brush my teeth before sharing this moment with this man that I'd loved for so long. That errant thought flew right out of my head when Jim slipped his tongue into my mouth, hot and sweet and beyond anything I'd ever imagined. His lips were solid and warm, dominating without being threatening. A pretty good summation of the man himself, actually.

I think at some point I came around long enough to mumble something like "...public grounds...mmm, God, Jim...somebody might come..."

Which was followed somewhat incoherently by "...listening, s'ok...oh, yeah, c'mere..."

Did the earth move? Oh, hell, yes.

"You ok?" he muttered as our lips finally parted, both of us a more than a little winded.

"Are you kidding?" I panted, leaning to rest my forehead on his shoulder, my temple curved into the warmth of his neck. "'Ok' was the stale bagel I got at Starbucks today. This," I pulled away, reaching up to run my fingers lightly over his mouth, shivering as he lapped at them with his tongue, "this is...is..." I stumbled, closing my eyes as he pulled me close again.

"Yeah," he breathed, "it is, isn't it." He shifted his hold, one arm curving around my waist, the other across my shoulder so that his hand could stay burrowed in my hair. "You don't seem all that surprised about this," he said softly. Behind the obvious amusement in his voice there lurked no small amount of confusion.

"Don't you believe it," I replied, eyes still closed, drinking in the sensation of Jim's hand stroking my head lightly. "Got a tranquilizer dart with your name on it in the trunk of my car. Soon as you come out of this fugue state I'll figure out what's going on and -"

Jim pulled back, frowning. "That's what you think this is? Some sentinel reaction to the bag of Funyons I had at lunch?"

I opened my eyes and sighed. How could I tell him that no other explanation fit the bill here? Already the reality of what had just happened was hitting him as he stared down at me, puzzlement and something else in his eyes.

"Jim, you -"

He stopped me with a single finger over my mouth. "It's just easier, isn't it?" he asked softly. "Easier to believe that I'm being affected by some strange new tweak instead of me finally wising up to the truth."

The wistfulness in his voice was painful to hear; it felt scary as hell to be the source of this kind of vulnerability for Jim. I was still held loosely in the circle of his arms and I rested my hands on his biceps, trying to give consolation for the suffering I was causing inadvertently.

"Hey," I said quietly, "it's ok. I mean, now you know how I feel, right? I don't have the excuse of whacked out senses." I swallowed and made the decision to go for it. If my reaction to his kisses hadn't already totally betrayed me, this certainly would. "This is just me, Blair Sandburg, and I love you, Jim. God, I have for years, and now that you know -"

"Years, Blair?" he broke in, his voice cracking a little. I looked up at him and nodded. Nothing but the truth now.

"Yes." I shrugged slightly, bracing myself for his reaction.

"But you, you're not...you're not -"

I laughed a little, kind of a wet chuckle because at this point I was actually closer to tears. Now that we were talking instead of making out, I could see it all slipping away. "No, I'm just what I've always been, Jim."

"What's that?" he murmured, gently running his thumb over my eyebrow.

"Yours," I said, now my own voice breaking. At his frown I hurried on, "Swear to God, practically from the very beginning. I - I just never knew how much, you know? I just always figured it was this one way kind of connection and when I left it would just naturally grow weaker - "

Jim closed his eyes and drew me close, bending his head until his lips brushed my ear. "You're an idiot, Chief, but no bigger an idiot than I am." He pulled back and cupped my face between his warm palms, giving me no escape from meeting his eyes. "Listen up. Here's the deal. You and I are gonna go home and we're gonna figure this thing out. Just you and me."

I had to smile at the typical Ellison dictatorial style. "Yeah? Well, I'm on a date, remember? And right now my gorgeous, dinner-stealing date is wondering where the hell I -"

"Shut up," he whispered, then tilted my head and kissed me again. All thoughts of further investigation flew out my head, only a very tiny part of my brain wondering how I was going to explain this - to both of us - later.

I have no idea how long we stood there, lost in those important first lessons of lovers. But we weren't lovers yet and in my heart I acknowledged that we probably never would be. There was so much that could still go wrong. The result of that unhappy thought had me holding on as tight as I could.

God knows I love to kiss. The intimate dance of mouths and tongues was one of my favorite studies and I'd always excelled at it. But nothing in my past experience prepared me for Jim Ellison and I happily relinquished the title to its rightful owner. He passionately, tenderly, explored my mouth over and over again, inside and out, a master at giving but also in receiving when he let me return the favor. Once in a while his lips would stray across my cheek or down my neck, but they always came back to start the expedition all over again. Like I said, I'm no slouch in the kissing department and sometimes he'd let me take control of the action, but for the most part, Jim was in the driver's seat.

So what can I say - I let him have his way with me and for a while it was enough. But then his hands began a little exploration of their own, hesitatingly, as if he could no longer hold back despite our surroundings. He let go of me long enough to slip his arm underneath my jacket, letting his fingers slide between my belt and the small of my back. I pulled my mouth away to take a sharp breath, my cock surging when Jim starting pulling at my shirt. Just as I was dealing with that, he shifted us so that his knee slipped between my legs, pulling me closer so that his thigh was flush against my groin. That sent me right into orbit and if the moan emanating from Jim's throat was any indication, he was on the next shuttle. I was just starting to work the buttons of his shirt with one hand and loosen his tie with the other when to my surprise he pulled completely out of my arms. Seeing my surprise and incipient hurt he trailed a finger down my cheek. "Heads up, Chief, your date's on her way down here."

My jaw dropped. Reality was rearing its ugly head and I felt the beginnings of alarm start to race across my nerves as I contemplated trying to talk to Mich and hide the unmistakable bulge in my pants at the same time. Jim saw my panic and was reaching towards me even as Michelle's voice floated to us through the trees.

"Blair? You down there?"

I shoved my hands in my pants pockets, letting the folds of my jacket drape in front to serve as camouflage. I turned around as she came through the break.

"Yeah, Mich, hey, sorry about dinner. Jim just wanted to discuss a case -"

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked from Jim to me, cocking a knowing eyebrow. "Yeah, right. Look, I'm ready to take off, so I just wanted to say goodbye. Hi, I'm Michelle Travers," She stepped forward and extended her hand to Jim who took it between his two large paws, giving her that damn "yeah, I work out" smile.

"Jim Ellison," he responded so smoothly, as if his mouth wasn't swollen and his tie at half-mast. What right did he have to be so cool about this, anyway?

"Nice to meet you, Jim. Pardon the clich but I've heard a lot about you." I rolled my eyes and flushed as Jim held up his hands in mock surrender and winked at her.

"All good, I hope," said Mr. Smooth. And Michie, she just stood there and smiled back.

"Of course," she purred and they just kept smirking at each other.

"All right, all right, break it up you two," I said, pushing between them. Turning to Mich, I shrugged. "So, like I said, I'm real sorry about this."

She cupped my cheek with her palm. "Don't be. Call me after you've gotten -" here she shot a glance at Jim, who was now standing with arms crossed over his chest, legs slightly apart but safely behind me " - settled." She leaned forward and gave me a peck on the cheek, pausing to whisper in my ear, "I told the maitre d' you'd come back and pay for dinner, Blair. Don't make a liar out of me."

She stepped back and smiled once more at Jim before turning and leaving us. Jim emitted a low wolf whistle and I turned to thwack him on the arm. Or I tried to, anyway. Instead Jim grabbed my wrist and pulled me up against his chest, planting a quick kiss on my lips.

"All right, Romeo, let's go pay for that overpriced meal and get out of here."

He was completely off balance. God, now that we were finally on the same page I wanted to make love to him so badly my teeth hurt. I know I had mentioned going home and talking but right now more elemental needs were battling for my attention - and winning. I knew what I wanted to do with him and I knew how to do it - something I'd no doubt have to explain to Blair at some point - but right now all I comprehended was that I wanted him naked and beneath me as soon as possible. If Michelle hadn't skipped dessert I have a feeling the back of the Volvo would have been our next destination.

And you'd better believe I'd categorized every ounce of response he gave me, making sure he was turned on. I'll admit that deep down I hadn't been too worried that he wouldn't get aroused; don't ask me why. Somehow I just knew we'd be compatible this way and damn if I wasn't right. Each soft moan deep in his throat, the rise of his temperature, the heat from his cock where it rubbed against my thigh -oh, yeah, if making out did this to us, sex would probably render us catatonic. I had complete sense memory of every place his hands touched me - God, and that was with my clothes on.

And yet, for all that I'd try to focus everything I had on Blair - except for my hearing - I'm not an idiot - there was still that slight taste in the back of my throat, a familiar and kind of unnerving flavor that was distracting me from probably the most important day in my miserable life. Whatever it was, it was annoying the hell out of me. It bugged me just enough that I kept trying to identify it while we walked back, even as I speculated about the bench seat in the Ford being comfortable enough for Blair's back.

I followed him up the path to the inn, my eyes fastened longingly on his ass and noticing he was walking with a bit of list. I knew the feeling - I wasn't walking all that smooth myself. But as we neared the front entrance I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out what was causing this latest journey into weirdness. It was going to be a lot of fun when he realized this wasn't anything new and especially not senses-related. To paraphrase the man himself - it was just me, Jim Ellison, in love with him, Blair Sandburg.

I guess I've always known that Blair's feelings ran high, close to the surface. He couldn't park his emotions at the door if you paid him. I was now pretty sure he wanted this, wanted me, badly, but I don't think he'd yet to wrap his mind around the fact. Even if he could come to terms with the fact that I desired him sexually, the idea of me being actually in love with him was a totally alien concept. The truth is, he's seen me in love before, or what I thought was love, anyway, and he can't fit himself into that equation. What he didn't know was that I'd never felt for anyone what I felt for him.

I waited in the hotel part of the lobby, still fighting that tingling at the back of my sinuses, as Sandburg moved into the restaurant to pay for his uneaten dinner. Well, I knew he'd had crab cakes, the lucky bastard, which was more than I'd had. I wandered around the big, impressive lodge, admiring the rustic feel of the place. I eventually ended up at the front desk, so I picked up a brochure and started thumbing through it.

That's when the idea hit me. This place had room service.

Five minutes later Blair joined me outside on the front steps, tucking a credit card back into his wallet and looking frazzled. He ran a hand through his curls and the gesture spoke volumes to me. He looked hungry, turned on, concerned about me and was broke to boot.

And I was about to rock his world.

"Ok," he was saying, "you ready to head out?" He stuffed the wallet in his back pocket and then rested his hands on his hips, his elevated heart rate belying his together attitude. I smiled at him and held up a card key. His eyes widened with comprehension and he looked from me to the card, smiling a little hesitantly.

"Cabin. Farthest one from the lodge so when we order room service they tell me we've got a little more of a wait." I studied his face carefully, trying to judge his reaction. "You game?"

He swallowed and I waited, my heart in my throat. I had moved up his timetable considerably and for him it was time to put up or shut up. At least in his mind, anyway.

*C'mon, Blair, trust me.*

Finally he nodded and I relaxed a little, figuring I still had a long way to go. Somehow I knew that for all his world travel and anthropological bullshit, this was pretty new territory for him and the fact that he was willing to trust me with something like this, something so huge - God, he never failed to astound me.

I handed him his own card and a map of the grounds that had our cabin circled on it in red. "Here. I'm gonna move the truck from the back parking lot. The Volvo should be fine where it is." I paused, noticing the slightly dazed look in his eyes. Settling a hand on his shoulder, I gave it a squeeze. "Hey. It's ok. Really."

I watched him closely, breathing a bit better when I saw a smile start to form in his eyes. He was just about to say something when I finally caught a good whiff of the scent that had been bothering me. That's when I realized what had been gnawing at the edge of my senses for the past half hour.

"Shit," I muttered, profoundly disappointed. "We're gonna have to put this on hold. Right now I'm smelling gas in a big way. We need to check it out."

Sandburg blinked at me, no doubt thrown off by the sudden change in plans.

"I don't smell any gas. All I smell is prime rib."

I nodded. "Yeah, me too. Smells good, hunh?" We shared a quick smile. "No, it's underneath all the food smells and it's pretty strong. I caught a trace of it down near the water but just recently it's gotten a lot worse."

"Ok, what do you wanna do? Most logical place is the kitchen, right?"

"Yeah." I stepped past him back into the lobby and up to the maitre d's podium, pulling out my badge and flashing it at the hostess. "Cascade PD. You mind if we take a look back in your kitchen?" I hoped she would just be intimidated by the gold and not ask why.

Sure enough, her eyes got big and she swallowed. "Uh, sure. Right this way."

Sandburg at my heels, I followed her down a small hallway towards a pair of swinging doors. We were about ten feet away when a waiter came flying through them and right after that I was about knocked off my feet by a strong wave of the gas. I reeled a little, Sandburg bringing a quick hand up to my shoulder. I was just about to tell him and the hostess to get back when I heard a heard a loud, deep boom.

In the split second before the concussion hit us I was reaching for the girl to yank her out of the way. The doors blew open and wave of heat from the explosion knocked her right into my chest, taking us both to the ground. Behind me I heard a grunt and a crash. The air was knocked out of me and for a precious few seconds I lay there dazed, the hostess draped all over my legs. As soon as I gathered my wits I angled my head back, looking for Blair. He lay a few feet behind me, unmoving under the wreckage of the maitre d's podium.

"Sandburg!" I bellowed, scrabbling to sit up. "You ok?" I turned and repeated my question to the girl, who nodded even as she started to cry. I got us both on our feet and moving back into the lobby, the cries of the injured already beginning to fill the air.

"Ok," I said, giving her arm a quick squeeze, "call 911 and get your manager to start evacuating the restaurant." Even as I pushed her away and dove towards my partner, I could tell people were already beginning to panic inside the restaurant. I hit my knees next to Sandburg and shoved the broken wood away, closing my eyes in relief as he groaned and sat up, rubbing his head.

"You all right?" I asked quickly, wrapping a hand around his arm and pulling him closer to me.

He leaned in, resting a shaking hand on my thigh. "Yeah," he nodded, "Ok. What the hell happened?"

I paused just long enough to get a good look at his eyes before I stood up and held out my hand for him to use as leverage. He clutched it and I gave a gentle yank, pulling him onto his feet. "Explosion from the gas leak would be my educated guess. Come on, we've got work to do."

In retrospect I guess it was the perfect way to begin this new phase of our relationship. There was some kind of poetic justice - yeah, ok, Sandburg would say karmic justice, just to annoy me - about the timing of a gas leak, a misplaced busboy's foot and an acetylene torch. I can't believe some poor slob would pay six bucks for pudding with blow torched sugar on top but hey, that's just me.

So, we spent the next few hours doing the last thing I wanted on earth to be doing right then - being cops. We evacuated, we triaged, we calmed, we directed traffic, we gave reports. And we were damn lucky. Couple people got pretty badly burned but it could've been a lot worse. The kitchen and lobby took a lot of heavy damage, though.

It certainly chewed up a lot of our night, a night about which I'd started to have some pretty big hopes. All through the chaos I was aware of where Blair was, every moment, even though we were separated a lot of the time. This wasn't exactly a new thing, true. But I'll be damned if holding him in my arms, just for those few moments, hadn't already caused some kind of heightened awareness between us. Even when he was outside herding people away as I hauled ass through the smoky dining room one last time looking for stragglers, he resonated quietly inside me.

How I'd survived without that up til then, I'll never know. But I knew I'd never willingly do without it again.

When I finally joined him outside, the place was crawling with emergency personnel and thankfully under someone else's control. We took a backseat to other professionals, watching like the rest of crowd as the firefighters worked to get the blaze under control.

We ended up towards the back of the throng, close to the edge of the lake and our little alcove. Both of us were exhausted but stuck around to groan with all the other gawkers when one of the big timbers in the lobby collapsed, sending up a plume of flame and smoke. I was standing behind Blair and it just seemed right to rest my hands on his shoulders as we watched. I was half afraid he'd pull away, but instead he just leaned his weight back on me and made himself at home like it was the most natural thing in the world. What can I say - it was.

After things had calmed down I found the guy in charge and asked if he needed anything more from us. He directed us to an information officer who took our cards and said they'd call if they needed us. As we turned and headed away I suddenly stopped Sandburg with a slap on his arm.

"Hey," I said, pulling the key card out of my pocket and holding it up so he could see it. "I have a feeling room service'll take a helluva lot longer now. Think I can get a refund?" He snorted softly and I took in the tired eyes, the warmth coming off the bruise hidden by his hair, the slight tremor in his limbs from fatigue. Both his tie and mine were long gone and I was pretty sure neither of us were going to try to salvage our suit coats. Taking a quick glance at my watch, I was shocked to see it was going on midnight.

I dragged an arm over my sweaty forehead. "What do you say we head for home?"

Beside me, Sandburg nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sounds good. Man, I feel like I was hit by a truck," he added with a weary smile. There was a detectable shift in his attitude, a growing wariness in his eyes that clearly told me he was starting to get worried about what had happened between us before all the fireworks started.

I smiled a little and tapped his cheek. "Don't make me say you smell like it was that garbage truck, Chief. You gotta stop feeding me these straight lines." He rolled his eyes and turned away to start moving towards his car but I brought him up short again with an arm across his chest. He looked up at me, unsmiling and serious, and I had a sudden flashback to another time. The chaos around us faded away and it's the damndest thing. It's the hospital lobby all over again and I'm looking at him now like I was then, wondering what the hell I ever did to deserve him. I tried to tell him back then and I know I sounded like an idiot, blundering through a muddled declaration of what he meant to me. It came out all wrong and I ended up blowing the whole thing off under the pretense of getting back to work on the case.

And here he was, months later, looking at me like he's expecting me to say hey, sorry about all this, let's forget it and go grab a beer. That thought actually made me smile a little more, because the only thing I wanted to grab - was him.

He was waiting, my hand on his shoulder, his head angled back, there's a couple hundred people milling around us - and I really wanted to kiss him. Not a deep one or anything, just a quick, light brushing of my mouth across his, just to reassure him. Instead, I settled for lightly pinching his cheeks and was rewarded with an annoyed laugh as he slapped my hands away. I really started grinning at that and then all of sudden we were laughing like a couple of idiots. I gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and then slapped him on the butt.

"Home, Sandburg," I said as I stepped away, then snapped my fingers and turned back. "You hungry?"

He nodded, still chuckling a little. "I could eat."

"Ginger Beef?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Phad Thai."

I wrinkled my nose. "Pass. Chicken curry?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Mmm, ok. Get some wonton, too. Oh, and steamed rice, not the fried. You're going to Mekong, right? Yeah, only place open until one. Ok, then don't get the sweet and sour soup 'cuz they always over spice it and your sinus's will lock up like an eighteen-wheeler -"

"Jesus," I laughed, digging for the truck keys as I raised my eyes to the sky in mock supplication, "we are so goddamned married it isn't funny, you know that?"

Walking backwards, Sandburg threw up his hands. "Not the brightest crayon in the box, are you, Jim?" he taunted before loping off, leaving me with a stupid smile plastered all over my face.

"Too much Sci Fi channel, Sandburg!" I yelled after him, getting a backhanded wave in return.

This was going to work.

At the corner of Nineteenth and Prospect, the panic began to set in as the adrenaline rush finally faded away. Sitting there, waiting for the light to change, I watched with a weird detachment as my hands began to shake on the steering wheel. Then my mouth started drying out no matter how many times I swallowed.

Great, just... great.

It wasn't that my enthusiasm was fading. No way. It takes a lot more than a gas explosion and three alarm fire to take my mind off what happened by the lake, that's for sure. And as mind blowing and, yes, scary as that was, I was all for taking us to the next level. But the offer of the cabin threw me for a loop. Jim does have this annoying tendency to go to bed with anyone who's ever been bad for him and since I really wanted to be the exception to that rule I wanted more time to adjust to the idea. I also know Jim can be a romantic guy, if he concentrates hard enough; I've eaten my heart out over stuff he's done for women over the past few years. Most recently, I'd seen the nice things he'd done for Terry, even forcing myself to compliment him on his technique, smiling on the outside and slowly fading to black on the inside.

And then there he'd stood, ridiculously GQ in his suit and tie, handing me a key and looking at me like I'm the last ticket to the ALCS, and it sinks in. All the years that I'd fooled myself into believing I could handle just that look from Jim? Oh yeah, I'd been lying to myself in a big, big way. I didn't have a clue.

The light changed and I made the left towards home, driving slower and slower until some jackass behind me laid on the horn. Refraining from flipping him off - I was one of Cascade's finest, after all - I picked up the pace and the next thing I knew I had parked and was riding the elevator.

Naturally I beat Jim home because he was getting the food and as I unlocked the door I felt more than a little grateful for the reprieve. It wasn't that long ago I'd come home from work, thinking that I needed to save the classifieds from the morning paper and feeling pretty damn sorry for myself. Now I was a miserable mass of anticipation, wanting desperately for Jim to come home and at the same time dreading it.

I was a mess, figuratively and literally.

So, first things first. I stripped to my shorts and headed to the bathroom where I started the shower. I was just about to hop in when the phone rang, so I grabbed a towel and went to answer it.

"Hello?"

"It's me. Mekong closed early, some kind of private party. Any suggestions?"

I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder and started a recon in the kitchen. "Yeah, come on home. We've got eggs, cream cheese - hey, there's some smoked salmon in here, too. I'll make omelets."

"You're gonna let me have eggs for dinner?" He thinks he's such a comic sometimes.

"It's a guy thing, Jim. Eating traditional breakfast food for dinner's our way of rebelling against matriarchal teachings that, unbeknownst to many, have been cleverly orchestrated by the pork industry -"

"Nothing else to eat, hunh?"

"Nope."

"Works for me. Beer?"

"We're good."

"OK. Be there in ten."

I clicked off the phone and stared at it. Were we the same two guys that were necking by the lake just a few hours ago? This was a conversation we'd had at least a hundred times over the years and this time felt the same as all the times before.

That's when it hit me. The truth of the situation drove me to the couch because my knees had suddenly decided gravity was a bitch.

Jesus. Jim loved me. Jim was in love with me and was not only okay about the whole thing, he'd adapted a hell of a lot better to the idea than I had. I mean, I'd never felt this way, not with any woman I'd ever gone out with. Dating was easy, as long as you observed all the proper rituals and covered your ass along the way. But now, here, there were no rules. No rules, no secret codes, no guidelines to being in love with your partner, your all male guy-type partner. This was worse than jumping off a cliff, or out of an airplane, or ...

Wait a minute. What did I just say?

Oh, man.

As Bugs Bunny would say, what a maroon.

Me, the discoverer, the explorer, was so freaked out about the destination I had completely forgotten about the fucking journey.

When Jim walked in the door I had the table set, the bread toasted and myself somewhat under control. I'd finished cleaning up and had donned a tee shirt and pair of sweat pants. The only thing left to do for dinner was actually cook the omelet but the pan was ready. I kept my eyes on the bowl of eggs I was beating, more than happy to let Jim set the tone. Throwing myself into his arms just didn't seem like a good option. Not yet, anyway.

"Good timing, man, I was just about to -" The bowl was gently taken from my hands and set on the counter. I tried to take a step back but was stopped when two big hands once again came to rest on my shoulders.

"How's the head?" Jim asked, removing one hand to run gentle fingers unerringly through the hair that covered the lump I received when I lost the fight with the podium.

"Fine," I managed, then brought my eyes up to meet his. He smiled at me, giving my shoulder a squeeze before moving away and removing his jacket.

"Can you hold up on that masterpiece you got going there while I get cleaned up?" he asked, rolling his neck and shoulders after removing his shoulder holster and hanging it up next to mine.

"Sure, no problem," I answered, reaching for the pan and removing it from the burner. "You want a beer?"

"When I get back."

Again with the normalcy thing. This could have been a night last month or last year or two years ago. Jim was carrying on like it was just any old evening after a typical Ellison/Sandburg day, while I - I was wondering where I was gonna sleep tonight and really hoping it wasn't on my futon.

Of course, that had nothing to do with the fact that I was more or less clueless about what was gonna happen if I did indeed make the move uptown. God, I wanted to, though. If my reaction to Jim by the lake was any indication, once I got there I'd never want to leave.

I shook my head and started beating the damn eggs into submission.

A few minutes later Jim came out of the bathroom and with typical Sandburgian luck he was wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, wiping himself off with another as he trotted up the stairs. Suddenly the most important thing in my life was making the greatest omelet in the history of mankind. Maybe concentrating on cooking would banish the vision of the world class abs that just flashed past me.

Yeah, right.

By the time Jim joined me at the table - dressed head to toe in sweats, thank God - I was just dishing up the eggs. He pulled out a chair and straddled it, then frowned down at his plate.

"Thought we were having omelets," he said, taking the Red Hook I handed him.

"Omelet or scrambled, it's technically the same thing, right?" I said reasonably, taking my seat.

He shrugged. "Yeah, guess so."

That pretty much summed up the dinner conversation, because right after that brilliant exchange, the fatigue really set in. I'd been hungry when I got home but before long I was yawning more than I was chewing. Jim plowed through his meal with his usual dogged enthusiasm, glancing at me every once in a while and smiling a little, saying nothing.

I wanted to talk to him so badly, but I had two things working against me. One, I was nervous. That was a given. Two, I was really getting tired and when I get tired I tend not to make a lot of sense. This was so not a good way to be right then. You know, blurting out something along the lines of "Yo, Jim, major conflicting emotions over here! You wanna give me a hand?" would not be the coolest thing I'd ever done.

But strangely enough, I did start to relax. Beer, warm food and the comfort of sitting there in our sweats and chowing down on eggs were all working against my natural instincts - to talk it out or run like hell.

"C'mon, let's clear the dishes." I started a little when his big hand picked up my plate. "We'll let 'em soak and do them tomorrow. I'm ready to hit the sack."

Oh, hey, me too, Jim. Question is, whose sack was I hitting? I got up and grabbed the empty beer bottles and moved around to toss them in the recycle bin, half listening for the "rinse 'em first, duck face" tirade that never came. Jim ran some water in the sink and started stacking the dishes while I finished clearing the table. I stepped up next to the sink where Jim stood and tossed in the flatware, wishing I didn't have to get so close to him to do it. One of the forks bounced out and I automatically reached for it but before I could get to it my wrist was enclosed by Jim's soapy hand.

The touch was electric, that's the only way to describe it, and yes, I know it's a clich. I drew in a quick breath as my eyes flew up to Jim's to find him looking at me with such care that I froze.

"You doin' ok now, Chief?" he asked softly, his thumb rubbing soothingly across the ball of my hand. "Your heartrate's dropped, anyway."

I stared at him, surreptitiously trying to pull my hand away. "You jerk," I murmured without heat. "You knew I was -"

His grip tightened. "Yeah, I knew you were. Add to that the fact we're both exhausted and up until five minutes ago we were starved..." he shrugged. "I figured a little normalcy would be welcome."

I nodded and looked away, my cheeks warming as I realized I was a little ashamed of my own reaction to this situation. Jim's other hand came up and cupped my cheek, gently forcing me to meet his eyes.

"Blair," he continued softly, "nothing's gonna happen that you don't want to happen. Why don't you tell me what's going on inside that head, hunh?"

I reached up and grasped his wrist, bringing our hands down between us. "Ok," I said, taking a deep breath, "let's do a quick recap. You, girlfriend. Me, searching the classifieds for a place to live. Fast forward to you ditching said girlfriend and me not eating and yet still paying for expensive dinner. Throw in an explosion, a fire and the really bad news that Mekong closed early and yes, I'll admit it, I'm a little on edge."

"Didn't you kinda pass over something? Here, let me refresh your memory." He reached over and turned the water off, blotting his hand on a dish towel before settling it on my hip. "You, me, the lake?"

"Well, um, that's the one part I'm really having trouble believing."

He smiled a little, briefly raising his gaze before meeting my eyes again. "Ok," he said, voice low, "You wanna hear my version?"

I swallowed. "Sure."

The damp hand on my hip pulled me a little closer. "Me, no more girlfriend. At least, not after I make a phone call some time tomorrow. You, try and move out and I'll handcuff you to the railing behind my bed. That could happen eventually anyway, but I'm getting ahead of myself." He chuckled when I choked a little, his grip on my hand tightening.

"As far as the food thing goes, you'll get another chance to try the stuff at Clover Point when we go back. And while it would have been nice for Mekong to be open, you know me and eggs, so I think that covers that. The gas leak was a little unusual for us since it wasn't a diversion for a paramilitary attack, but I'll take it."

He paused, releasing my hand to gently cradle my waist. His voice dropped to a whisper. "So where does that leave us, Blair?" he asked, his head inclining towards me.

"By the lake?" I whispered back, my eyes drawn to his mouth as it hovered above mine.

"By the lake," he breathed, just before his lips met mine in the gentlest kiss I'd ever been lucky to be a part of.

Damn, this guy's good.

Damn, I'm good.

By the time I'd gotten home, Blair had worked himself into a pretty good state. The way he was beating on those eggs I could tell we needed to take a step back and establish some kind of normality, because the last thing I wanted to do was fuck this up and put pressure on him.

Then there was the simple fact that we were both worn out. It was after midnight and I'd have to admit, after the evening we'd had I was experiencing more than a few muscle aches. Maybe tossing that last dishwasher over my shoulder wasn't really necessary but the kid was terrified and I was in a hurry.

All this meant kissing Blair now was not a good idea. I thought he'd tasted good by the lake but it was nothing compared to the taste and feel of him in our own kitchen. Even the simple touch of my fingers as they splayed against his ribs was intoxicating, and I sighed with pleasure when his hands came to rest on my chest.

And his mouth - Jesus, I'd dreamed of Blair's mouth forever. Carolyn once teased me that kissing me was similar to being sucked down like a McDonald's milkshake. Hell, the only time she ever complimented me on it, we were already divorced. Other women I'd been with had no complaints but I usually considered kissing them as a prelude to sleeping with them. God knows I wanted Blair that way, but the gift of his mouth was worth taking the time to treasure slowly and completely.

I pulled back and slid my arms around his shoulders, tugging until he rested against me. We stood like that for a little bit, just soaking up the closeness. I was just about to broach the subject of sleeping arrangements when the phone rang.

Sandburg laughed softly against my chest and stepped away, shaking his head. I moved over to where the cordless sat on the end table, turning in time to see Blair disappear into the bathroom.

"Ellison."

"Good evening, Detective."

Oh, shit, this was not good. Simon had that weird, cheerful tone to his voice that usually meant nothing but trouble. I swallowed, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Hey, Simon, what's up."

"Why don't you tell me, Jim? Did you know I just received a phone call from Curt Davis? Do you know who Curt Davis is?"

Damn, this was getting worse. Keeping my eyes on the hallway, I answered. "Uh, name rings a bell, but I'm not -"

"Well, let me jog your memory." Uh, oh, we'd moved into heavy sarcasm. "Make that Chief Curt Davis of the ninth fire district. Does that help you out, Detective?"

I winced. "The ninth, hunh?"

"Yes, the ninth. He just called to compliment me on the quick thinking of two of my detectives during an industrial accident earlier this evening." I could hear him take a deep breath, priming for a good yell, so I held the phone a little away from my ear. Quick thinking on my part, because Simon really cut loose. "Damn it Jim, what the hell were you and Sandburg doing out there tonight and why do I have to hear about it from someone else!"

Just then Blair came out of the bathroom, a look of curiosity on his face. With a little sigh, I noted the absence of the earrings. Still holding the phone away, I pointed a finger at it, mouthing "Simon."

Sandburg's eyebrows rose and he did an exaggerated doubletake. I rolled my eyes, gingerly placing the phone back against my ear. "Sandburg had a date out there, sir."

Simon snorted, a pretty ugly sound. "Sandburg had a date. Well, that explains what he was doing out there. Care to explain your presence at the scene of a three alarm fire?"

I cleared my throat, scowling at Blair as he snickered, guessing my predicament. "I, uh, needed to talk to him. His cell wasn't on."

In front of me, Sandburg crossed his eyes and tilted his head, one hand raised above him like he was clutching a rope. I reached behind me and snagged a cushion, flipping it hard so it hit him right in the midsection. He laughed silently as he caught it, then tossed it back onto the couch before parking his butt next to mine.

Simon was winding down. "Hell, Jim the kid deserves some down time so don't give him a lot of crap about the phone." I started to protest at the unfairness of that assumption but I was cut off. "Anyway, sounds like the two of you did a hell of a job tonight. You're probably gonna get some press on this, I think -"

"Great," I mumbled.

" - so expect some calls in the morning, even if it is Saturday. Davis wants you to stick by the phone in case he needs you to fill in some blanks. If you run into problems with any reporters, remind them to refer back to the PD media office. Now," he continued, sounding more like a friend and less like a pissed off superior, "you wanna tell me what went down out there?"

"Wasn't a big deal, Simon." Beside me, Blair gave a little two-handed slap to the top of the couch and stood up, taking a step towards his room. I grabbed the sleeve of his tee shirt to get his attention. "It took me a while to filter out all the food smells so I smelled the gas but it was too late to prevent the explosion. Hey, do you know why restaurants use acetylene torches?"

Blair was looking at me oddly. I made sure I had his full attention before jerking my head towards the staircase. He frowned and looked in that direction, then back at me. I widened my eyes and tried again, pointing a finger first at him and then up towards my bedroom.

Ah, the light dawned. Blair flushed and shook his head slightly, taking a step back. Raising his eyebrows questioningly, he motioned towards his room by hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

" - but the best place for burnt cream is this restaurant in Chicago -"

"Uh, hunh," I grunted into the phone, standing up and moving towards Blair. Reaching out, I touched his warm cheek with my fingers, then slid my hand to the back of his neck.

" - tiramisu from that place in Seattle -"

"Seattle, right," I replied to Simon, pulling Blair closer. I squeezed his neck lightly before giving him a gentle push in the direction of the steps. He swallowed, his dark eyes expressionless as he gazed at me. If he really didn't want to go upstairs I wasn't going to push it any farther; I just wanted him to be completely sure it's what I wanted. Simon's voice faded to a soft buzz in my ear as I waited, my fingers once again stroking through the jumble of curls at the base of Blair's neck. I let his eyes search mine, the phone in my hand drifting to my shoulder. Whatever he needed, he must have finally seen it because he nodded before stepping away. Before I could lift the phone back to my ear, he turned and pushed up against me, his lips seeking mine. It was a hard, fast kiss that was over so quickly I didn't have a chance to react before Blair turned and headed up the stairs. My heart surged as I watched him - and I was damn lucky I didn't drop the phone and follow him at full speed.

" - still have your attention, Detective?" Damn, I'd missed my cue. There was no ignoring the annoyance in that voice.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, Simon. What were you saying?" Rubbing a thumb across my forehead, I tried to ignore the sounds of Blair moving around upstairs. I craned my neck but couldn't quite see him; the angle was wrong.

"I said I know it's almost one in the morning but I want to hear what happened to you two tonight." I choked back a little laugh; Simon, believe me, you really don't want to know. "Give me the short version; I'll get cc'd on your reports later."

I sighed. I was tempted to carry the phone with me up to the bedroom but right away I realized that was a bad idea. Instead, I moved around the couch and sat on the edge with my back to my bedroom, running a hand through my hair. Now Blair was pulling the bedspread down and doing something with the pillows. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and concentrated on giving Simon a professional rundown.

I made it as concise as possible, but it still took too long. Although I tried not to listen, I still had to stifle a groan when I heard Blair flop down on the mattress. As tired as I was, it caused my breath to catch to think he was up there, in my bedroom, waiting for me.

Finally, Simon was satisfied. "All right, Jim, I guess I don't have any more questions. You sure you two are ok?" I smiled at that; he sounded a little distrustful, like he didn't quite believe we could come out of something like this unscathed.

"Yeah, we're good. Sandburg got a bump on the head and we've got some sore muscles but other than that, no problem."

"Good. I'll let you two get some rest and talk to you tomorrow. Tell Sandburg good job for me, ok? You, too."

"Will do. Night, sir."

I turned the phone off and set it in its cradle, then moved around the apartment and shut off the lights. After making sure everything was locked up, I headed towards the stairs. Pausing at the bottom, I extended my hearing upwards. Blair was breathing easy, nice deep breaths, almost as if he were...

I shook my head, grinning a little. He'd fallen asleep.

Well, that made my life easier, in a twisted kind of way. God knows I wanted him, but only when both of us were awake. Hell, only he and I could finally make it into bed together - and be too tired to do anything. But there was no way I was going to let there be any distance between us tonight, even if it meant we slept side by side and never touched.

Touching would come later. Lots and lots of touching. In the morning. Ok, in the morning, afternoon, right after breakfast - we had an entire weekend and all the reporters and fire chiefs in the world could just go to hell.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs I'd have to admit my tail was really dragging, but I still stopped dead in my tracks to take in the sight of Blair asleep on my bed. I only had the ambient light coming through the skylight but for me it was more than enough. Stripping off my sweat shirt, I sat down on the edge of bed. I saw now what he'd done with the pillows. He was reclining on top of the blanket, both pillows stuffed behind him. Looks like he'd gotten comfortable to wait for me and ultimately just couldn't make it. Hands lax at his side, his head tilted towards the wall, he was out.

Sighing, I reached over and grabbed his knee, giving it a little jiggle. "Hey," I said softly, "C'mon, Chief, wake up here."

He mumbled a little and blinked as I patted his leg, "That's it, come on, sleeping beauty, give me my pillow back and let's get under the covers, ok?" I stood up and waited while he came around, watching him nod sleepily and roll off. He tossed one of the pillows back to my side while I yanked the covers down and crawled into bed. When Blair hesitated to join me, I thumped his pillow a couple of times with my fist.

"Some time tonight, Sandburg."

He climbed in and I pulled the sheet and blanket up, watching Blair out of the corner of my eye. When the covers were situated to our satisfaction, I turned on my side and propped my head on my hand.

Blair lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Sensing my gaze on him, he closed his eyes briefly before turning and mirroring my position.

"Sorry about that," he whispered.

"What?" I whispered back. The softness of our voices combined with the dark gave us an immediate feeling of warm intimacy. Laying like this, our noses only inches apart, it would've seemed out of place to speak normally.

"Falling asleep. Pretty lame, right?"

The troubled look on his face had me extending my free hand towards him, brushing a lock of hair away from his eyes. "Nah, don't sweat it," I said as my finger traced a path over his stubbled cheek before I tucked my hand close to my body. "It's what we need more than anything right now. I know I kinda railroaded you into coming up here - you ok with this?"

He chuckled softly and I joined him. So maybe I was a little late in asking.

"Yeah, definitely ok." He pulled the hand supporting his head away and lay down on the pillow. I could tell he was uncomfortable; he wasn't looking me in the eye. "Um, I was thinking...oh, shit. I'm not sure how to ask this -"

"What?" I leaned up a little and plumped my pillow, then got settled on it, still facing Blair. "Go ahead, ask."

He took a deep breath. "Well, I'm here and everything, and that's really cool, but we're both wiped out, so I was wondering..."

"Yeah?" I whispered when his voice trailed away.

"You do, uh, want to, I mean, eventually, right?"

I smiled reassuringly but inside my gut was clenching at this evidence of his vulnerability. His hand lay palm up in the small space between our bodies. I placed my larger one over it and pulled it up against my chest.

"Listen to me. Eventually means as soon as possible. I want to do everything we can think of and do it twice on Saturdays. Which is tomorrow, by the way," I added helpfully, glad to get a little huff of laughter out of him. I squeezed the hand I was holding. "You gotta understand something here, Blair. Except for making love, this is it. It's all I've wanted, all I've dreamed about, for a long time now."

"Get out," he murmured, "it is not." He sounded disbelieving, but he was smiling, too.

"No lie," I shot back. "So shut up, close your eyes, and get some rest. You're gonna need it, hot shot." I softened the tough words with another squeeze of his hand, then threaded my fingers through his.

"Yes, sir, closing eyes and sleeping now, sir," he whispered, eyes already shut.

"Such a smart ass," I whispered, content just to watch him until I finally had to give up and close my own eyes. I continued to cradle his hand close to me, grateful and content to let the warmth from his skin guide me into sleep.

When I woke up, it was still dark and I was on my back. That was weird enough to begin with because I'm more used to sleeping on my side. The next thing I realized was that my left side was dipping towards the middle of the bed, and my hand was tucked under something warm. Something named Jim.

Well, that brought me fully awake mighty damn fast. I turned my head and squinted, just able to make out Jim lying next to me. From what I could see, he had one arm flung up, resting above his head on the pillow. His face was turned towards me with his mouth slightly open, breathing deeply and steadily. The blanket was bunched around his waist and I sighed, wishing a little selfishly that he'd wake up. It was Saturday.

And yep, there was my left hand, tucked right under his ribcage and very happy to be there, let me tell you. If I flexed my fingers just right, I'd be peeling Jim off the ceiling. Of course, immediately afterwards me and my notes on Sentinel ticklish spots would be dropkicked off the balcony. Bad idea.

But I needed my hand back because I wanted to get up. Now that I was a little more awake I was beginning to remember how I'd gotten here. Part of me wanted to panic, but it was a very small part. The rest of me was humming like a tuning fork. Despite the fact that we still weren't technically lovers, I think waking up beside Jim was about the happiest moment of my life. Happier even than finding Jim in the first place, because now it looked like we'd finally found each other.

I still needed to get up. The little bit of sky I could see through the skylight was growing paler, so I carefully lifted my head and looked over Jim to the clock on the night stand. Six forty-five, Saturday morning. Normally, I would've rolled over and happily gone back to sleep.

Not this Saturday, no way, not with Jim's promise still ringing in my ears. I rubbed at my chin with my free hand, the rasping sound loud in the silence. My fingers stilled when a thought hit me - if I had any thought of getting up close and personal with Jim in the near future, I'd better start thinking with more than my glands. That meant a quick inventory of what may or may not be comfortable for Jim to be up close and personal with. A heavy beard on that sensitive skin could be a real libido killer. Personally, I found Jim with a little growth on him sexy as hell.

Shifting a little, I slowly pulled my hand out from beneath him, watching for any reaction and seeing none. I sat up carefully, making sure he was still covered, and swung my legs off the bed. I was about to rise when Jim slapped at the space I'd just made, then groped around until he connected with my hand. I turned back towards him as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

"You ok?" he slurred, eyes closed. For some reason that hit me very hard, that he was so attuned to me that he knew I was leaving his bed and was worried about why. I literally couldn't answer him for a couple of seconds. Jesus, did people really survive love like this?

"Yeah," I finally managed around the lump in my throat, "just need to run downstairs."

"Comin' back, right?" His eyes fluttered a little as his grip tightened.

"Yeah," I murmured, suppressing the urge to smooth his rumpled hair. This incredible vulnerability that I was feeling was completely unexpected and I swallowed hard, trying to assimilate these emotions that kept blindsiding me. Funny - I always thought that if we ever got around to this day, things would get easier because we'd finally figured it out. We'd have sex, drink beer, and argue over what videos to rent on Friday.

But as I sat there quietly watching him, I realized that everything in our lives was about to be made new, far beyond my limited imagination. So, taking a metaphorical deep breath, I waved goodbye to my preconceived notions. I should have known so much better.

He let go of me, eyes still shut, and pulled the covers up around his neck. "Ok," he muttered before turning on his side towards the middle of the bed. I doubted he'd ever remember this little conversation. I knew I'd never forget it.

The loft was chilly so I ducked into my room and grabbed a sweatshirt, yanking it over my head as I moved into the bathroom. I closed the door and cranked on the heat, then quickly took care of the basics. That done, I paused to take a good look at myself in the mirror.

Yep, just what I thought - a common breed, the scruffy headed, blue-gilled geek. The hair was a disaster but not as bad as it was when I wore it longer. At least it was clean. Ok, two things to deal with, then it was back upstairs, under the covers, and hopefully a little closer to Jim than holding his hand.

Five minutes later, my teeth were brushed and I was clean-shaven. This was as good as it was going to get. I had just placed my foot on the first riser when the phone rang so I pivoted quickly, snagging it before it had a chance to ring again.

"Hello?" I whispered, hoping Jim had been able to sleep through the noise.

"May I speak to Detective Sandburg?" The female voice was unknown and sounded very official.

"This is Blair Sandburg," I whispered back, hoping whoever this was would catch a clue that it was seven friggin' o'clock on a Saturday morning.

"Detective Sandburg, I'm Diana Marquez of KSNC Channel Five News? Now, I understand you were present at the fire last night at Clover Point." I heard the sound of rustling above me, followed by a floorboard creaking. Damn it, Jim was awake.

"Yeah?" I shook myself; no reason to be rude. "I mean, yes? What can I do for you?" Jim's bare feet slapped each step as he made his way downstairs. I turned to him and smiled, receiving a yawn and a half-hearted wave in return as he made his way into the bathroom. I walked over to the balcony doors, my arms tight around my chest and the phone tucked under my chin as I gazed out over the still-quiet city.

"According to the police blotter, you were having dinner there, right, when it happened?" For some reason, my radar started pinging. What did she care? Luckily, we have standing orders to refer all media inquiries directly to the Cascade PD press office. I shivered a little, balancing on one foot as I tucked my cold toes under the cuff of my sweatpants.

"Yeah, but you need to direct your questions to -"

"And you are the same Blair Sandburg that defrauded Rainier in the spring of 1999, am I correct?"

I swallowed thickly, an old, gnawing pain renewing its acquaintance with my stomach. "Look, I didn't defraud the college. It-it wasn't like that, I -"

"Detective, wait! This will make a great human interest story! Listen to this: 'former fraud turned cop saves hundreds of lives' -"

The phone was gently plucked from my hand. I hadn't even heard Jim come up behind me.

"For further information," he growled politely into the phone, "please contact the Cascade Police Media center. Call information if you need the number." He thumbed the phone off and then tossed it across the room to land in a corner of the couch.

I didn't turn around, just stood there and hugged myself tighter as I tried to get a grip. I felt like I'd been ambushed but I figured Jim was going to do what he always did when crap like this happened - give my shoulder a squeeze and tell me not to let it get to me.

Instead, comforting arms circled me from behind, drawing me to his bare chest until my head dropped on his shoulder. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his embrace, smiling a little when he dropped his head and rested his rough cheek against mine. With a sad little twinge, I realized Jim had touched me more in the past twelve hours than he had in the last twelve months. The heat from his bare chest enveloped me even through my two shirts and the sense of wellbeing it brought up made me recognize how completely lost I'd been without that constant physical contact from him.

"Hell of a wake up call," he murmured, drawing me closer. "My fault - Simon warned me we might get some flak. I should've told you."

"S'ok," I sighed, "I'll live."

"I know."

I clutched at the arms surrounding me. "Really sucks, man, you know?" To my profound embarrassment, my voice wavered a little. Jim planted a small kiss behind my ear with a little hum of regret. Just like upstairs, when I was watched him while he slept, I felt that bubble of emotion start to rise inside me, threatening my composure. Before I could get really worked up, I forced myself to go on.

"Talk about killing a mood," I muttered with an uncomfortable laugh, my early morning plans suddenly unreachable.

Jim's arms fell away, only to turn me around and pull me into a hug.

"What kinda mood were you looking for, Chief?" he asked softly, holding my chin in his hand so I that I'd meet his eyes.

I swallowed and looked away so he gave my chin a little shake. I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat steal up my face and that was all the clue Jim needed.

"Blair, look at me."

I closed my eyes briefly, then silently met his gaze.

"I don't think you're quite getting the whole picture here. Don't get me wrong," He continued, releasing my chin to cup my cheek, "I appreciate the thought."

He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine. "But you can't figure on cleaning up every time we want to make love." Another soft kiss at the side of my mouth. "There's gonna be times when we come home from work -" one at the corner of my eye "- or first thing in the morning - " back to my lips " - or camping - " now my eyelid " - and I'll want you just as much then as I do now."

"Besides," he pulled back with a slightly wicked grin, lowering his voice an octave, "forget to shave one morning, throw in the earrings and I guarantee you won't see the other side of the front door for at least two days."

Jeez, I didn't know whether to blush or laugh, so I did both, burying my hot face in the crook of his neck and giving in to a fit of relieved giggles. Beneath my cheek, I felt an answering rumble coming from Jim's chest.

"Ok, smooth talker," I raised my head, still laughing but calm enough to face him again. "Now what?"

"What do you think, smart guy? C'mon, back upstairs." He unwound his arms but immediately draped one around my shoulders, drawing me close to his side as we moved up the stairs. Even though it was awkward, we managed to make it up the stairs that way. Once there Jim let me go and I stepped in front of him, intent on climbing back into bed. I was stopped when Jim grabbed a fistful of the back of my sweatshirt and pulled up back up against him again. I let out a surprised huff of laughter that was immediately cut off when he wrapped me in his arms and began nuzzling my cheek.

"Mmm, nice," he muttered, laying small kisses along my jawline. My eyes closed as I gave myself up to the feeling of his warm lips and tongue exploring my skin. God, he was good at this. Strong, sure, hands worked their way under my sweatshirt and tee shirt, caressing my abdomen with little swipes, making my breath come in short spurts. His fingers wandered higher, drawing little gasps of pleasure from me as they danced across my chest, circling my already responding nipples as the material was shoved higher and higher.

Suddenly, the most important thing in the world was to see Jim, to feel him. I took a step forward and swiftly yanked off both shirts and tossed them aside before turning to him, framing his face with my palms. His hands immediately found their place on my hips, drawing me close.

"Next time?" he murmured with a hint of a laugh, "Let me do that, ok?"

"Sure, whatever," I whispered, making sure I had his complete attention before taking a deep breath. "Jim, um, you know, I've never been with a guy. I - I've wanted to, but -"

I was effectively stopped with a kiss. When Jim ended it, I could feel his smile against my cheek. "It's ok. I'm not so sure how I'd feel if you had."

"Hunh?" I muttered, trying to meet his eyes. I gave up as his mouth spread wet heat along my jaw and down my neck. His weird response intrigued me and I'm usually not so easily distracted, but at this point my body had staged a coup over my brain and wasn't allowing it any visiting privileges.

"Later," he sighed, nosing my hair as he slowly stroked my sides. I twisted my head and he instantly latched onto my neck, sucking at it and drawing a sigh from deep within me. I managed to get my hands between us, pushing him away so that I could see his eyes. But first, I just drank him in, framing him face in my palms and asking the one question left between us.

"Now, ok, Jim?" I said softly, almost reverently, as I rubbed my thumbs gently across his cheekbones. He tilted his head and gave me a small smile before lifting one hand away from my side. His fingers entwined with mine and he turned his head slightly to brush his open mouth over my palm, never breaking eye contact.

"Yes," he whispered before his lips captured mine in a kiss that left no doubt in my mind that we were ready for this. It started off almost delicately as Jim stroked his lips against mine, giving me an open-mouthed nuzzle before pulling back until we were separated by a mere breath. When I leaned towards him with a little moan, he took my mouth firmly, his tongue rushing to meet mine.

Oh, God, it was as good as the lake - no, it was so much better, because just as I was letting my fingers start to explore the soft hair behind his ears, he slipped his hands beneath the waistband of my sweats and cupped my ass, pulling me tight against him.

I wrenched my mouth away, panting. "Oh, Jesus," I whispered, shutting my eyes as all sense of body coordination was lost when he began to stroke me gently, running his palms over my skin until his fingers gently parted me to trickle in between.

I swear I'd never been so hard so fast in my life. I heard a low, unsteady chuckle from somewhere above me. "That works, hunh?" he murmured wickedly, hooking his thumbs over my waistband and beginning to slide the sweats off my hips. I shuddered a little as the cool air hit my exposed flesh, raising goosebumps that were quickly covered by Jim's large hands.

"God, I knew you'd feel so damn good, " Jim mumbled, catching my mouth again and slipping his tongue inside. I sucked on it, intoxicated with the texture and taste of it, loving the rough grunts Jim was giving as he delved further. So intent was I on learning every inch of his mouth, it came as a shock when one of his hands left its warm perch on my ass and threaded its way between us, skimming gently over my nipple and carding through my chest hair. Up and over my collarbone, his hand worked its way across my cheek before thrusting into my curls and tilting my head to seal our mouths even tighter.

I tried, I really tried to reciprocate. That beautiful skin was right in front of me, rich and glowing in the slowly growing sunlight. But our kisses grew deeper and hotter and I found myself holding on to his arms just to stay upright. When he stepped back I swayed, my hands catching at the cool air.

"Shhh," he murmured at my incoherent protest. He caught my hands and squeezed them, then used them as leverage to get me to sit on the bed. I collapsed pretty gracelessly, falling back onto one elbow. Jim used my awkward position to strip me of my sweat pants, tossing them aside before helping me to sit upright.

Kneeling on the floor in front of me and gently parting my legs, Jim ran his fingers lightly up my inner thighs. I shuddered, biting my lip as he skimmed his fingertips over my groin, teasingly avoiding my cock before wrapping me in a loose embrace. As our eyes met, I realized I was breathing hard and he had barely broken a sweat. Here I was, buck-naked and painfully erect and he was slowing the pace. Was I doing something wrong or - God help me - wasn't he aroused? Swallowing hard, I leaned back to look into his cool blue eyes, seeking reassurance and finding it - and so much more that I literally had to think about my next breath.

"Jim?" I was hesitant, not exactly sure what I was asking as my hands finally connected with his broad chest, exploring blindly while our eyes stayed locked. His skin was soft, unexpectedly so, like heated velvet. When my thumbs traced over his nipples, he shuddered a little, his eyes drifting shut for a brief second before meeting mine again.

"Blair, let me make love to you, ok?" he asked in a raspy whisper.

I smiled uncertainly, brushing his cheek with the back of my fingers. "I thought that's what we were doing. Did I miss something?"

He shook his head as he moved onto one knee, splaying his hands on my back so that I arched a little. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, yes, we are, but -"

I laid a finger across his lips. "Jim," I murmured, "you're babbling. Stop stealing my shtick. Tell me what you need."

He removed my hand but retained it as he stood up, drawing me to my feet and into his arms once more. Holding me tight, he leaned down. "This time, let me lead, ok?" he breathed into my ear, his moist breath making me shiver a little. "We've got forever to figure this out, but this time, I just really need to be on the giving end here. That ok with you?"

I nodded, now beyond actual verbalization as what he was asking became clear. That seemed to please him as he kissed my ear with a sigh of satisfaction before releasing me. In the space of a few seconds, I was laying in the middle of the bed, the covers drawn away and a pillow supporting my head. Jim paused long enough to take off his sweats, then stretched out next to me and propped his head on his hand.

Any fears that Jim wasn't turned on vanished when I finally got a good look at him. Greedy bastard that I am, I wanted so badly to touch that beautiful cock of his that my hands were reaching for him before I knew it. But Jim blocked me, holding my wrists as he moved to straddle me.

"Short attention span, hunh, Chief?" he said wickedly, then slowly lowered his groin onto mine, still grasping my wrists on either side of my head.

Oh, my God. I gasped as our cocks made contact; the length of him pressed against me was so scorchingly hot, I felt branded. I wanted to thrust up, but he'd settled his weight on my upper thighs, giving me no leverage.

Jim loomed over me, rocking his hips as an erotic little tease. He leaned down and I strained up to meet him, our mouths colliding in a kiss that had no gentleness to it at all. I was becoming frantic, loving the unusual feeling of being pinned by Jim's strength and wanting more.

And I got it. After our mouths broke away, Jim picked up the pace. He let go of my wrists and spread his fingers over my ribs, raining kisses over my neck and collar bone. I think about that time I must've starting whimpering, only to break into full blown moans when he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. He repeated the motion on the other side and my hands fell to his shoulders, fingers digging in, so out of my mind at that point that I had to shut my eyes against the vision of Jim as he started kissing and licking his way across my abdomen.

Then he suddenly stopped and my eyes flew open to see Jim staring up at me, breathing hard through slightly flared nostrils.

"Love you," he said softly, then took me in his mouth.

It was incredible, mind-blowing - and I knew almost instantly that I couldn't last. I was so consumed by sensation that I lost all awareness of everything except Jim, his mouth, and the palpable love between us. My head thrashed back and forth as I forced my hands to clench the pillow beneath my head. Tears forming in my eyes, I cried out, his mouth and tongue working me so beautifully as his hands slid beneath my ass, kneading me rhythmically with the thrusts of my body. With my last coherent thought, I realized how close I was and I slammed a fist into the mattress to get his attention.

"Jim! Ah, God, I'm coming! Move!" He couldn't want me to -

With a swift movement, his hands parted me and he stroked a finger firmly over my opening - and it was over. I streamed helplessly into his mouth, pulsing over and over as he swallowed against my sensitized skin, dragging the ecstasy out of me until I collapsed weakly against the mattress, drenched in sweat.

But he wasn't done. Even as I softened enough to slip out of his mouth, he licked and nuzzled me, his hands stroking soothingly across the top of my thighs. I was barely aware of him moving up to my side, pulling me close and lapping at the sweat beading the side of my neck. He waited long enough for my breathing to even out, then slipped an arm underneath me and turned me onto my side, my back to his chest. Reaching around the other side, he cradled my balls in his big palm, rolling them gently as he whispered in my ear.

"Lift your leg, babe."

I sort of nodded, unsure but totally at ease with whatever was coming next. At least I thought I was, but some new tenseness in my muscles must have alerted him. Before moving on, he brought both arms firmly around my chest, cradling me gently.

"Don't worry, ok? Soon, I promise, but not this time."

I took one of his hands and brought it to my lips, kissing his palm as I bent my knee. He slid his hard cock between my thighs until the head of it nestled up against the back side of my balls. I closed my legs and he moaned, holding me tighter as he set up a new rhythm, sliding smoothly between my legs. I took one of his fingers into my mouth, sucking it in time with his thrusts and drawing deep cries from him that reverberated against my neck.

"Blair," he ground out, pounding against me, our mingled sweat giving him the needed slickness. His movements became jerky and his thrusts shortened, so I released his hand and reached back, cupping his ass hard against me.

With a cry, he came, drenching my thighs and balls with scalding liquid. The arms that were wrapped around me tightened and I held on as he rocked against me, my heart practically exploding with the love I had for this man. Even as he came down from his orgasm, he was placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses against my shoulder as his hand wandered gently over my chest.

A few quiet minutes passed, then Jim dropped a small kiss on the point of my shoulder before rolling away. The arm underneath me held on though, and I found myself tucked into Jim's side, my head on his chest. I pressed a kiss over his heart, then leaned down to draw the covers up over our waists before snuggling back down again.

I was just starting to doze off, lulled by Jim's fingers as they stroked my forearm where it lay across his stomach, when a thought occurred to me. I lifted my head and waited, smiling when he opened one eye with a little grimace, then the other.

"What?" he murmured, pushing the hair off my damp forehead.

"Me too," I whispered, suddenly feeling a little shy.

He knew exactly what I meant. He shook his head slightly, a small grin playing around his lips. "Nice try, but I think you can do better than that after how many years in school?"

I looked away, clearing my throat a little. When I looked back, the smile was gone, replaced by a worried little frown.

"Ok," I said hoarsely, "how's this. I love you so much I think I'm gonna fly apart with it. It's - it's so intense, so strong, that I'm actually a little scared. Scared because I didn't see it coming, didn't realize I could love someone so much, you know? I - I didn't know I had it in me."

Jim's eyes shut briefly; when he reopened them, they were bright with moisture. Drawing me closer, he bent his head and kissed me tenderly, then rested his forehead on mine before replying.

"I knew."

As a rule, I love any Saturday afternoon that I don't have to work. The early morning sun had been replaced by some serious rain but hell, there could've been a hurricane out there for all I cared; my entire world was right here.

This Saturday was the closest thing to heaven I'd ever known. After our little nap, we'd gotten up and showered together. We didn't make love again, but there was some seriously silly fooling around going on before we both decided food was becoming a priority. Much as I regretted it, I had to set aside my growing addiction to his touch for more basic needs.

Hard on that realization came the fact that we had no food, except for some old bread that we toasted for breakfast. It was already starting to drizzle outside when I set down my coffee cup and got up to reach for my jacket. Blair grabbed the keys and tossed them to me from behind his back, grinning when I caught them one-handed. Rolling my eyes, I moved towards the door.

"Ok, be back in an hour. Less if I can manage it," I said, my arm snaking around his waist when he stepped close. I really didn't want to leave him but trust me, after rummaging through our limited resources, I had no choice. He smiled and lifted his mouth to mine, and for a few moments I forgot all about food again.

Finally, Blair pulled away, laughing as he stuck a piece of paper in my coat pocket.

"What's that?" I asked, starting to yank it out but detained by his hand on my wrist.

"Shopping list," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows and giving me this enigmatic little smile.

I frowned. "When did you have time to write this? I just thought I'd grab a bunch of stuff to make pizza and a bottle of wine, get some cereal, stuff like that, not do anything major."

Blair shook his head, grabbing me by the arm and turning me towards the door. "I did it when you were upstairs getting dressed. Just jotted down a few things so we don't have to leave here for the rest of the weekend, capiche?"

"Uh, yeah, capiche. You sure you don't wanna come with?"

Unaccountably, he blushed as he reached past me and opened the front door. "Yeah, I'm sure." He paused, laying a hand on my chest.

"Just hurry back, ok?"

"Don't even have to ask," I replied, taking him in my arms for one last kiss before I took off, already planning our reunion in my head.

It was while I was sitting at a red light that I finally pulled out his list and read it. About halfway down, beneath the lasagna noodles and above the olive oil (the "extra virgin" was underlined), I found the reason why he'd turned so red earlier. My body tightened in response to the implications and I was glad I'd read the list in the cab of my truck instead of the produce department at Top Foods.

Even without the promise inherent in the little addition to the grocery list, I would have rushed through the shopping like a man possessed. I knew that everything in my life had been leading up to this day, this one rainy Saturday when I would finally begin to live the life I was supposed to, with Blair at my side. More than friends, more than partners, more even than lovers; we were bound to each other by some incredible combination of all three.

Hell of a thought to be having when I'm digging into the back for the freshest milk, despite some lady scowling at me for blocking her access the no-fat cottage cheese.

When I got home, Blair was sitting on the counter, legs dangling as he talked on the phone.

"Ok, Jim's back, Simon. You wanna talk to him?"

I set down my bags and stepped between his knees, intent on nuzzling his neck. He tried backing away but I held him firmly, slipping one hand under the flap of his flannel shirt to caress his back. A strong arm came up between us, vainly trying to push me away but robbed of its strength when he started to giggle.

"Uh, no, sorry, Simon, something on tv." He managed to push me back far enough to see me, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably. He waved a warning finger under my nose, his eyes full of outraged laughter as he dodged my questing fingers.

"Ok, ok, will do, yeah, thanks, ok, Simon, talk to you later, bye - oh my God, Jim! Are you nuts?" This was said as the phone sailed back to its new resting place in the corner of the couch. Blair's arms came around me and our mouths made a hungry and overdue connection. Long, lush minutes of necking followed until Blair finally broke away, breathing as hard as I was.

"Get everything on the list?" he panted, resting his forehead on my shoulder.

"Oh, yeah," I replied, "but next time, warn a guy, ok? You know how expensive asparagus is this time of year? About had a heart attack." I kissed his ear and then stepped away. "C'mon, start putting this stuff away while I go down and grab the rest of the bags. I think I brought up the one with the ice cream in it; find that one first, ok?"

He hopped off the counter and started rummaging through the groceries as I headed for the door. I was stopped by a cry of outrage.

"Phish Food? You got Phish Food? Man, that's almost as bad as Chunky Monkey! I don't believe you, you know how -"

"There's Cherry Garcia in there, too, so don't have a damn hissy fit."

"Oh, ok," he replied happily, going back to his task.

One hour and one roast beef and havarti on rosemary-garlic bread later, Blair straightened up the kitchen while I did a little housework upstairs. I was just getting the clean fitted sheet onto the mattress when he joined me, drying his hands on a towel. He draped it onto the railing and grabbed the sheet, pulling it firmly over the corner. We got the bed squared away in no time and Blair started to pick up the discarded sheets when I stopped him.

"Hey, you want help bringing your stuff up here?"

He blinked at me behind his wire rims. "Stuff?"

"Yeah, Chief, your stuff. Clothes, socks, Underoos, whatever." I turned to open a drawer. "Cleared some space here for you."

I didn't hear anything so I straightened and looked at Blair. His head was thrown back a little and he was staring straight ahead. The strong muscles of his throat worked at swallowing and I stepped towards him, concerned.

"Chief? You ok? Look, you don't have to if you don't -"

He held up his hand, stopping me as he took a deep breath. "You wanna know something funny?" he asked, turning to meet my eyes.

"Sure," I said quietly, not really sure what was going on.

"You know, for the past year or so, after the whole diss thing, I, I just felt like... sure, you still liked me and everything, but I missed the...care, you know?"

"C'mon, I always cared." I frowned and took a step towards him, wanting to hold him but not real sure if I should.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's just that - oh, this is gonna sound stupid. Forget it."

I snorted softly. "I promise not to laugh. C'mon, spill it."

He took a deep breath. "It didn't feel - right, anymore, ok? With you, I mean. With the badge, I was just another guy, your partner, your friend, even, but with the way you handle the sentinel stuff now, I wasn't - special. It was like little pieces of my heart were constantly being broken off." He gulped and when he continued, his voice was so soft I even I had to strain to hear it. "We were just a normal couple of guys - and I hated it."

To hell with it. I pulled him into my arms and held on. "Jesus, Blair, you have no goddamn clue, do you? That wasn't us and that wasn't normal." I held him tighter, my eyes closing as I let myself be engulfed by the fierce love that I felt for Blair Sandburg.

"This is normal, Blair. You and me. Normal starts now. And this normal is forever. Ok?"

He nodded against my chest. "Yeah," he whispered. "You know, I think I'm gonna like normal after all."

Finis