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"How Deep Is Your Love"
by MonaR.
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I know your eyes in the morning sun
I feel you touch me in the pouring rain
and the moment that you wander far from me
I wanna feel you in my arms again

Jim turned in the bed, reaching his arms out for something that was no longer there. He opened his eyes enough to make out the green glow of the clock on the bedside table - 2.30 am.

Coming more awake, he could hear the shower running downstairs. Sighing, he reached for his shorts and slid them on, then went down the stairs.

The kettle had boiled by the time Blair was out of the bathroom, and he poured out a mug of tea, adding honey and lemon.

"Thanks, baby," Blair said, squeezing past him and giving him a soft kiss. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"I know."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing." They'd been over and over what was wrong many times in the three months since Blair had first spent the night - or part of the night - at Jim's place. Although he'd spent many nights there since, he never had quite made it through until morning. Jim was determined not to push the kid, but it was getting harder and harder to let him go.

Blair glanced at him, but didn't take the bait, either. "See you tonight?"

"Sure."

He wandered upstairs, mug in hand, wrapped in one of Jim's huge towels. The odd time Jim had awakened while he was in the shower, he'd joined him, and they'd shared a happier goodbye than this one. He thought that Jim might come back upstairs - they'd have plenty of time to make love again before he had to get back to the house, but after a few minutes of waiting, it was obvious that Jim wasn't coming up. Sighing, Blair reached for his clothes and pulled them on. He padded down the stairs to look for his sandals.

Jim was standing by the window, staring out at the night sky. Chewing his lip, Blair walked over to him and touched a warm hand to his back. The tension was palpable from that first touch, and he almost flinched away. "Jim?"

No answer.

"Please don't be mad at me." /Damn, was that a tremble in my voice?/

He could see Jim's shoulders sag, and the taller man turned, leaning against the glass. He looked at Blair for a moment before opening his arms, and hugged Blair close. "I'm not mad, Blair," Jim murmured, kissing the top of his lover's head. "It doesn't stop me from wishing that you'd stay, though."

Blair said nothing for a moment, then, softly, "Jim - "

"I know, Blair, I know," Jim interrupted. "You're not ready. I understand."

"I'm sorry," Blair said, quietly.

"You don't have to apologize. It's okay. Just don't expect me to stop asking."

"Please don't stop asking." Blair hugged him, then pulled away. "I should go."

Jim nodded, and watched him walk to the door.

"Tonight?" Blair asked again, before he opened the door.

"Tonight," Jim nodded. He turned again when the door was closed, and watched out until Blair pulled away.

/At least,/ he thought, /before you bought that car, I could take you home. Now, you can just drive away whenever you want./

Jim climbed the stairs and got back into bed. The smell of Blair in the sheets and pillows was nearly overwhelming, and he could feel the tears rush into his eyes. He took a few deeps breaths and willed them away. /It's only been three months, that's not very long. Just give him some time, Ellison. One of these days, he's going to stay the whole night./

He turned and pillowed his head on his arms. /One of these days, he's going to tell you that he loves you./

then you come to me on a summer breeze
keep me warm in your love
then you softly leave
and it's me you need to show
how deep is your love

Blair sat in the car for several minutes after he'd pulled up in front of the house that he shared with H and several other people, a couple of whom he didn't even know. Sheila had made it easy on him by not returning from Berkeley at all - he'd heard from one of her friends that she'd met a mime and was living in the back of a bakery. He'd felt nothing but relief at the news.

Nobody knew about his relationship with the Cascade police officer that had started at a late spring open-air concert three months earlier. It was simple, really - he just stayed out until late at night, made it home before dawn, taught his classes, worked on his thesis, went to Jim's, made incredible, impossible love with him, and started all over again. Nothing could be simpler.

Except for the fact that he hadn't been sleeping very well for a couple of weeks. He couldn't seem to figure it out. He thought that it might have something to do with the two or three fights that he and Jim had had about him staying over, but they'd worked them out - at least, Jim said that he understood. He just wasn't ready for something as heavy as sleeping over. Jim didn't seem to worry about the consequences of anyone finding out about them at all, and it amazed him. Out of the two of them, Blair had thought that Jim would be the one to want to keep it quiet, especially where his job was concerned. But he'd met Simon Banks, Jim's superior officer and best friend, several times since the concert and they seemed really comfortable with each other. Blair had the feeling that Simon knew exactly what was going on between them.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of the affair, he told himself - Jim was a fabulous lover, caring and gentle and passionate - but he was a guy, and that fact was still freaking him out. The sex was easy for him, and for Blair, too - so easy that it scared him, at times. He could lie there and feel completely cared for, loved and safe and desired by this man, and it shook him so deeply that he felt like he had to run back to his old life for a little while.

He reached his hand into the glove compartment and pulled out a small amber bottle, shaking a couple of tablets out of it before shoving it back inside. "At least I'll get a few hours of sleep tonight," he said, sighing, then opened the car door.

how deep is your love, how deep is your love
I really mean to learn
'cause we're living in a world of fools
breaking us down
when they all should let us be
we belong to you and me

A few nights later, they were lazing quietly in bed, when Jim asked him, "Are you losing weight?"

"I don't think so," Blair lied easily. "Why? Does it look like I am?"

"It feels like you are. Feel." Jim pulled one of Blair's hands down and rubbed it across his ribcage, which was distinctly skinnier than it had been before.

Deflecting, Blair laughed at the light touch. "Any excuse to cop a feel, eh, Jim?" he teased. "All you have to do is ask."

Although he knew that Blair was dodging the question, Jim let it go. "Right, Chief. I can't hide anything from you."

"Besides, I have to be in fighting trim just to keep up with you. Where do you get all of your energy, anyway?"

"I only run eighteen hours a day, unlike some anthropologists that I know. Try getting a full night of sleep, and you'll eat like a horse the next day."

Blair decided it was a good time for a change of subject. "You still getting those headaches?"

"Not so much, lately, but sometimes," Jim admitted. "The doctor they sent me to just wanted to up the prescription on the painkillers they were giving me. I told him thanks, but no thanks."

"Yeah, that was a pretty bad reaction that you had to them," Blair said, wrinkling his forehead. "I wonder - "

"What?"

"I've been doing some reading on senses, every since you told me about yours getting so hyperactive. I think I may be on to something. It might all tie in to the time that you spent alone in the jungle in Vietnam. There's this paper I found - "

"Um, Blair?" Jim interrupted, licking his lips.

"Uh-huh?"

"You think we could talk about this later?"

Blair grinned. "You have something else in mind?"

"Actually - " He nuzzled Blair's neck.

"I think it could probably wa - "

"I was wondering," Jim said later, running a hand through Blair's tangled curls, "if you wanted to go camping with Simon and I this weekend."

"This weekend?" Blair asked, fighting down a wave of panic. "Um, I'd love to, but I've sort of got plans to work on my thesis with my faculty advisor."

"Okay," Jim said, his voice not betraying his disappointment. "I'll give you more notice the next time."

"Great," Blair said, letting his breath out easily. "I promise to come along then." He stretched lazily. "I should get going." Reluctantly, he sat up on the side of the bed. "Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night?"

Jim shook his head. "We'll be getting a really early start on Saturday morning. I'm just going to crash early, I think."

"Oh, okay. I guess I won't see you until Monday, then." Blair couldn't believe how disappointed that thought made him.

"I guess not. Too bad you've already got plans. The place we're going to is really beautiful, and isolated."

"I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together."

"The three of us, actually. Simon's bringing Sherry. He wants to see if she can stand roughing it. I think they're getting serious."

A couples weekend. Although he was tempted to break his 'plans' and go along for a moment, Blair said nothing. It was easier this way. "Catch something for me, okay?"

"Sure."

"I'll call you on Monday?"

"Great. Have a good weekend, Blair."

"Yeah. You, too."

I believe in you
you know the door to my very soul
you're the light in my deepest darkest hour
you're my saviour when I fall
and you may not think I care for you
when you know down inside that I really do
and it's me you need to show
how deep is your love

It went along smoothly for another couple of weeks, and then the shoe that Blair had been waiting to drop fell, hard.

They'd taken home food and a bottle of wine and had an impromptu picnic in the living room of Jim's apartment. There was soft music playing in the background, and Blair was propped on his side, watching Jim clean up.

"Want me to help?" he asked, grinning.

"Oh, no," Jim retorted, bowing low. "Let me do it."

"'Kay," Blair giggled. He loved nights like this - when it could be easy between them, and he didn't feel any pressure, just tenderness and warmth. He yawned when Jim took the plates into the kitchen, and reached for his jacket, rummaging for the bottle that he'd put in his front pocket before he'd come up. It had been a long day, but he was determined to stay awake this evening. He had to make it up to the big guy for how rough they'd been having it for the last little while.

He grew a little alarmed when a search of all of his pockets revealed no bottle. He knew that he'd taken it out of the car, but - He started feeling around the couch, just in case it had slipped out.

"What the hell is this?"

Blair whirled around, then saw Jim holding an amber bottle in his hand. Busted. He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "They're just bennies, Jim. It's no big deal."

"It's a huge deal! They're illegal, and dangerous, Blair. How long have you been taking them?"

Blair shrugged. "A little while. Only a couple of times. It's not like I'm hooked on them, or anything. I just needed something to keep me going for the past couple of weeks, that's all. I've had a heavy workload, and trying not to neglect you - " He pushed Jim down on the couch, and snuggled into his arms, kissing him. He could always count on his mere physical presence to distract the cop in him. At least, it usually worked. He sighed. "Really, Jim, it's no problem. If you don't want me to take them, I won't, okay? I'll just have to not spend as much time here, that's all. I'll have to get some sleep at my place more often."

"You wouldn't be so tired if you'd stay here nights - "

"I knew that you were going to start on that again!" Blair exploded. "Look, I told you that I'm not ready, and I'm not! Why can't you just stop pressuring me for ten minutes. Goddammit! I'm new to this, okay? You may be used to people calling you a faggot, but I'm not!"

Jim looked as though he'd been slapped, then his mask fell, and he didn't say anything. He pushed Blair off of him, and stood up off of the couch.

"Oh, god, Jim - I didn't mean - you know that I didn't mean that!" Blair was horrified. He stood and pulled Jim around to face him. "Jim! Jim, please."

"I think you should go."

"No, please don't make me leave, please, Jim. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, really I didn't - "

"Do you really think that it would have come out like that if you hadn't been thinking it for a while now?" Jim's voice was cold steel, every word perfectly calm and clear. "Don't you think I feel you pulling away from me every night? You run from me and straight to the shower, so you can wash the feel of me off of you - "

"It's not like that!" Blair protested.

Jim continued as if Blair hadn't said a word. " - and then you run out the door and back to where you feel safe. And now I found out that you've been taking drugs, Blair!" Some of his anger seemed to fade. "Why treat your body like this? Don't you know what can happen to you?"

Blair said nothing.

"I've seen it happen before. You start taking a couple of uppers to get going in the morning, then downers so you can sleep. Pretty soon, you can't make a move without them, and then you're taking them just to be able to get through the day. You take more and more, and then you crash.

"The fall is different for everyone, you know. You might be lucky and just crack up your car, or take a header down the stairs one night. Or you might not be so lucky and o.d."

"So what are you going to do, arrest me?"

Jim shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you? If I thought it might do any good, I would, believe me. But it would only make you angry, and give you more of an excuse to use these." He threw the bottle at Blair. "Take them, and close the door on the way out."

"Okay, so no drugs in your place, I understand - "

"No, you don't. Not just no drugs in my place - nobody who does drugs in my place, either."

"You're dumping me?" Blair looked incredulous.

"I'm just a faggot who happens to love you, Blair. No big deal. I'll get over it."

"Jim, please - I'll stop." He threw the bottle into the trash. "See? I won't take any more, I promise."

Jim looked at him, sadly. "It's not just that, and you and I both know it." He brushed a hand down Blair's cheek. "It's not enough anymore, for me to have part of you in my life. I thought it could be, but it isn't. I want all of you. It may be selfish, but it's the way that I feel." He folded his arms across his chest. "I'm sorry."

"I could try - "

"If you have to try, then you don't really feel it, Blair. It would have come to this eventually, anyway. It's just chance that it happened now. At least - at least we have some good memories, right?"

Blair nodded, feeling his world splintering into pieces in front of him. "Yeah." He wanted to cry when Jim wrapped him in his big strong arms once again, and hugged him tight. He hugged back as hard as he could, but Jim still let him go, pushing him gently away.

"I think you should go," Jim said.

"Can I - call you?" Blair asked, feeling foolish.

"There really isn't much point, is there?" Jim asked. "Look, if you ever need anything, remember that there's someone who loves you, okay?"

"Okay." Blair was determined that he would not cry in front of him. If he wanted it to be over, then it was over. No big deal. He took his jacket and walked to the door. Hesitating a moment, he said, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Blair."

how deep is your love, how deep is your love
I really mean to learn
'cause we're living in a world of fools
breaking us down
when they all should let us be
we belong to you and me

"So he just left?"

"I told him to go, Simon," Jim sighed. "Yeah, he just left."

"And you haven't heard from him since?"

"Not a word." He signalled his hand to the bartender, who brought him another beer. "It's for the best, really."

"Yeah, you really look like that's helping you a lot, man. You should get back out there."

"Simon - "

"I didn't think that you were ever going to find someone again, after Bob died." Jim shot him a shocked look. "I knew what was going on between you, Jim. We were all in the same company, remember? And when you came back here, you acted like a hermit for longer than is healthy."

"It's only been two weeks with Blair," Jim protested.

"And next week it will be three weeks, and in a month it will be seven, and so on. I'm not saying that you'll find the love of your life, but what can it hurt you to look?"

"I don't know - "

"Look, there's a new bar in Madison. It's only forty-five minutes away. Why not go and check it out?"

"And how do you happen to have all of this information on gay bars in the area?"

Simon grinned. "I have my ear to the ground, Jim. And if you knew what was good for you, you would, too. Go, get laid. Have a good time and get out of the fog that you've been running around in."

"Is that an order?"

"Do I need to make it one?" Simon stood up and put a five down on the bar. He put a hand on Jim's arm. "He's not going to come back, you know. He's getting on with his life even as we speak."

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "You're probably right." He waved Simon out of the bar, and ordered another beer. "Get on with my life. Right. Not a problem."

He looked around the bar. Although not overt, he'd cruised a couple of times in places like this. A discreet person could make out all right in a city like Cascade. He was good looking, too - he'd have absolutely no problem satisfying his body's needs. But there seemed to be no point to it all, when his heart was somewhere else, probably folded into some woman's arms at that very moment, kissing her, loving her -

He slammed his money down and walked out. "Madison, here I come."

The End
MonaR.
[email protected]/[email protected]