Author's webpage: http://www.geocities.com/monaram/

Author's notes: Inspired by and dedicated to Jessica.

"The Shadows Fade"
by MonaR.
monaram@yahoo.com

"I know where your father is."

That had been the gist of the message that Naomi had left on the answering machine, two days ago. They'd come home late, after wrapping up another case, and he'd switched it on on the way to his bedroom, now used mainly to hold clothes and books. His real bedroom was upstairs with Jim, of course.

He'd come out of the room as soon as he heard Naomi's voice. She hated machines, and never left messages - it was almost a signal that she'd be in town if there were repeated hangups clicked on the machine. So for her voice to actually be there, it had to be important.

"I'm in Washington, Blair - you'll never believe what's happened."

He played the message over five times in a row, until Jim came over and switched it off, leading his partner over to the sofa, handing him the phone.

"I don't know where she is. She left that message, but didn't leave her number," he groaned, after he'd started to dial.

"Where was the last place you had a number for her? Maybe they've got a forwarding address?"

"It was in Mexico, and that was six months ago. She's probably circumnavigated the globe five times since then."

"So we wait for her to call back. If it's important enough for her to leave you a message, surely she'll be in contact. Maybe she'll even show up here."

"Or maybe she'll just leave me here in suspense for the next six months."

"Chief," Jim said, putting an arm around him, "she wouldn't even have left a message if that was her intention. Just relax. She'll turn up, one way or another."

It took three more days, and Jim truly thought that Blair was going to go out of his mind, and take him along for the ride. He was seriously considering having a state-wide APB put out on Naomi when she finally called again.

"Mom!" Blair yelled, when he'd picked up the phone. "Where are you?"

"Didn't I tell you? I was wondering why you hadn't phoned."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Mom, you told me you were in Washington. You didn't even say if it was the state or the district."

She laughed. "Sorry, honey. I was a little distracted when I left that message - you know how I hate machines."

"You could have called on the cell."

"Blair, excess technology is the scourge - "

"- of the masses," he finished for her. "Yeah, I know, Mom. Can you please tell me what's going on, now?"

"Your father is here in Seacouver."

Seacouver. The same state, the city less than two hours away from Cascade. Of all the places for him to be -

"Blair, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Mom." He paused. "I don't understand any of this."

"I know. Look, I'll come and talk to you about this. I can be there tonight. Blair - " her voice had a tentative edge to it, "hear me out before you make any judgments, okay?"

"Yeah, Mom, okay. I'll expect you in a couple of hours."

She was there before they'd finished with the dinner dishes. Most of Blair's food was in a container in the fridge, along with the rest of the last few days' meals. Jim was glad she'd called just so they could get some answers and Blair could start eating again.

She arrived in a flurry of energy, and settled into the couch with Blair at her feet. "I thought he was dead, Blair, I honestly did. I had no idea when I walked into that bar that I'd find him there in front of me."

"You found him in a bar?" Blair asked. "Since when do you go into bars?"

"He owns the place," she said. "And it happens to be a great musical club. A friend of a friend recommended it to me, and I was in the area, so - "

"And why didn't you call if you were so close?"

"I did call, Blair. You were never in."

"Mom."

"Do you want to hear this, or do you want to ask me questions all night?"

He shut up.

"We were both young," she said, with a long-ago smile in her eyes. She ran a hand through his long hair, and cupped his chin. "It was the sixties, and we took full advantage of the times. I met him at a jazz club in Chicago. He was there with a bunch of friends, so was I. We just started talking, and we hit it off. We met the next night, just the two of us, and ended up spending the night together, walking, drinking tea, talking. He was so passionate about things - music, books. I was enraptured."

"And you slept with him."

"I fell in love with him, at least a little," she corrected. "And yes, we spent the night together, several times." Her smile faded a little. "But he'd already received his draft notice, and he wouldn't ignore it. He wouldn't run away with me, and he wouldn't run away for himself. We only knew each other for four weeks before he shipped out. I thought it was nothing more than a beautiful little romance. He wouldn't let me make any promises to him, and we ended it."

"And you thought he was dead?"

She nodded. "I'd heard, from someone who knew him, that he'd been killed in action. I never had any proof, but I was forced to believe it. I guess I never told you, because some small part of me just didn't want to face it." She shook her head. "I never, ever wanted to hurt you, Blair, or to keep anything from you. But I just didn't have anything to tell you about him. I could have told you what his favorite book was, but I didn't know anything about his family - I didn't even remember what colour his eyes were - and I didn't know if I could have made you understand what happened between us."

Blair was looking at her, incredulous. "This is amazing, Mom. I can't believe it. Did you tell him about me?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Does he -" he hesitated, almost afraid to ask. "Does he want to meet me?"

"Yes, Blair, he does. But he said that he'd leave the decision up to you. Before a couple of days ago, he didn't even know that you existed."

"I want to meet him," Blair said, firmly.

"Blair - " Jim said, warning in his voice.

"Jim, I have to, don't you see?" There was a plea in his voice.

Jim nodded, silently.

Blair turned with a smile back to Naomi. "So, what's his name? Where can I find him?"

"His name is Joe Dawson."

They went to Seacouver on Friday night, leaving directly from the station. Jim had tried to persuade Blair to at least call first, but he wanted to go and scope out the situation a little. He wanted to see this man before making any decisions - to even out the 'home territory' advantage that Joe Dawson would have.

"I don't even know if I want to meet him, Jim. Maybe I just want to see what he looks like. Maybe I'm just scared, okay?"

"It's okay to be scared, Chief. That's why I'm coming, remember? To back you up." He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him close. "Whatever happens this weekend, you've always got me to come home to."

"I'm counting on it. Come on, let's go before I lose my nerve."

They didn't have any problem finding "Joe's", from the directions that Naomi gave them. She'd offered to go with them, but Blair knew that walking into the place with her would instantly mark him as her son, and told her that this was something that he had to do on his own, so she'd agreed to stay in Cascade, at least until she heard from him again.

The bar was quite full, considering it wasn't even nine o'clock. A set was being announced as they walked through the doors, and they just managed to get themselves a table and a couple of beers before the music began.

Naomi had told him that Joe was a musician, and it wasn't hard for Blair and Jim to place him as the band came on to the stage. Even before he settled at the mike and introduced himself and the other band members, his ease and pride in the place was unmistakable. The set mixed vocal and instrumental pieces, and the crowd was noisily appreciative.

He ended the first set with an easy, sexy instrumental, which he introduced, to much applause, as "A Song for Richie." His eyes caught someone's across the length of the bar, and Jim turned his head to see the young, attractive redhead who was matching his smile. He nudged Blair and nodded towards the figure leaning against the bar. Blair gave him a curious look.

"What do you think - ?" he trailed off.

Jim just shrugged.

They didn't have to wait long to figure it out, however. When the set finished, Joe left the stage, promising to return at 11:30, and walked straight over to the redhead, giving him a lingering kiss.

Blair couldn't contain his surprise. "She couldn't have told me this?"

"Maybe she didn't know, Chief."

"They don't seem to be hiding it very much, do they?"

"Do you have a problem with it?" Jim asked, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's just another bit of information to process, that's all." He sighed.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

Blair shook his head. "No. I came here to meet my father, and I want to do it." He stood up.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Come with me?"

"I've got your back, Chief."

He smiled, and walked over to the bar, the reassuring presence of his Sentinel directly behind him. It took a few minutes to get a chance to speak with Joe, but when he finally did, he could think of nothing to say. Finally he stuck out his hand, and blurted, "I'm Blair Sandburg."

The redhead, who'd been talking to someone on the other side of the bar, shot him a surprised look, then came to stand beside Joe protectively.

"Joe Dawson," he said, taking the hand. "But you knew that already."

"I'm sorry I didn't call first, but - "

"But you wanted to get a look first."

He nodded.

"I can understand that. Do you want to - " Joe shook his head. "Damn, this is awkward. Do you want to sit down? Talk?"

"Yeah, that would be nice. Uh," Blair turned, and, finding Jim behind him, turned back again. "I'm sorry - this is Jim Ellison, my - " he faltered, at a loss for words.

The redhead came to his rescue. "Lover?" he finished for him, with a grin. "We can never figure out what to call it, either."

"Rich," Joe said, with a groan.

"What? Like everyone in this place doesn't have a clue?"

Joe shook his head at him, but had to laugh. "Richard Ryan, this is Blair Sandburg. Rich is my better - and worst, at times - half."

"I've been called worse," Richie said.

"So have I," Jim agreed, shaking his hand.

"So, we'd all better sit down, hadn't we? Now that the awkward part is over, that is."

The ease of Joe's mobility surprised Blair, Naomi having already told him of the extent of his injuries from the war. Richie treated him as any other person in the place, completely at ease, not hovering, not 'helping'. They went into the back room of the bar, which Blair guessed to be an office of sorts.

Conversation passed awkwardly between them. No-one seemed quite sure what to say at all, with questions and answers tumbling out uneasily. Neither Blair nor Joe seemed to know exactly what they wanted to know, really.

Finally, Richie said, "Why don't we all get out of here? Come over to the house. Joe, they can get along without you for the rest of the night. Maybe if we just go somewhere more comfortable, it will be easier."

Blair seriously doubted that anything could make it easier, but he was open to the suggestion, and they agreed to follow them back to their house.

"This is incredibly hard, Jim," he said, when they were in the truck.

"Do you want to just go and find a hotel room somewhere and try this again in the morning?"

"No, I don't want to wait. I probably wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, anyway." They followed the ragtop convertible as it pulled out of the parking lot of the club.

The bungalow was homey, comfortable, and Richie was right, it put both Blair and Jim at greater ease. Not a whole lot greater, but anything was better. Joe sat down in the living room in a chair close to the fireplace, which soon had a cozy fire, and Richie offered them drinks and brought out a box which proved to hold a collection of photos. He handed the box to Blair and sat on the floor at Joe's feet.

When Blair pulled out a fading picture of a young, curly-haired woman of remarkably similar colouring as himself, Joe said, "That would be your grandmother."

"I always wondered where I got the hair."

"And the eyes," Jim added, taking the picture.

"Is she alive?"

"No," Joe said. "She died when I was about twelve. My father died just a few years ago."

There were other family pictures in the box, mixed in with more recent ones of Joe and Richie, and other friends of theirs. Going through them did a lot to break the ice, and all were surprised to find that it was nearly three a.m. when they'd finished.

"We should get going, Chief," Jim said, pulling himself up off the couch.

"Why don't you stay here?" Richie asked. Both Joe and Blair shot him looks, but he ignored them with a smile. "I don't know how you'd be able to find a hotel at this time of night, and we've got a spare bedroom."

The word "a" struck Jim, but Richie seemed to realize this, as well, and smiled at him. /Kid's got insight./

When nobody voiced an objection, Richie stood up and went to go and prepare the bedroom. It was only another half-hour before they were saying good-night, Jim having brought their bags in, and they all retired.

"I like him. He's intelligent." Richie was in the doorway between their bedroom and bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "I think he takes after his father."

Joe snorted. "He looks like a combination of Naomi and my mother, that's for sure. I can't believe how well this is going, considering. He's a remarkable kid."

"Hey," Richie said, "he's older than I am. You could lay off the 'kid' stuff."

"I forgot. I'm only allowed to use that on you, now."

Richie climbed into their bed, and turned off the bedside light. Snuggling into Joe's arms, he asked, "Are you tired?"

"You're kidding, right?"

He could feel the slight brush of skin as Richie turned and planted a kiss on one shoulder. "Uh-unh."

"I'm not so sure this is such a good idea, kid," Joe warned.

"They're either asleep or doing the same thing, Joe," Richie said, drawing his hands up Joe's chest. He grinned wickedly. "Besides, I think that they've probably figured out what's between us."

"Which is not a whole lot, at the moment."

Richie laughed. "Too much, as far as I'm concerned." He reached his hand down the front of Joe's boxers. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, wickedly, stroking the growing erection.

"Are you kidding me?" Joe groaned. "You ask me that now?"

"I wouldn't want to be accused of taking unfair advantage, that's all."

"Kid - " he growled.

"Yes?" Richie asked, trying his best innocent expression.

"You are completely insatiable, and I'm a fool for ever falling for you." The hand stilled. "And if you stop, I'll go insane."

"Far be it from me to be the cause of your breakdown."

In the bedroom down the hall, Jim and Blair were likewise settled in bed. Blair was lost in his thoughts of the night, when Jim suddenly said, "They're making love."

"Who?" Blair looked at him, puzzled.

"What do you mean, 'who'? Who else is in this house?"

He laughed. "Sorry." He sobered, then. "You can hear them?"

Jim nodded his head.

"Not bad for the old guy, eh?"

Jim shot him a look. "He's not that old, Chief." He calculated few years between them, a fact that made him slightly uncomfortable.

"I wonder if there's anything to that whole hereditary theory of sexuality," Blair mused, the scientist mode kicking in.

Jim, sensing that this could become an all-night discussion, tuned his hearing down. "Chief, let's just get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay." They lay there quietly for about two minutes. "Jim, do you think he's really my father?"

"Don't you? Naomi has no reason to lie to you, Blair, not after all of this time. And he's backed her up, all the way."

"I guess so. It's just - "

"Not fitting in with your fantasies?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what I thought he'd be like. I thought it would be easier to hate him for not wanting me. But he didn't even know, Jim. I can't blame him, and I can't blame Naomi, either."

"And you need someone to blame?"

"It would be so much easier for me if I had someone."

"Easier for what?"

"Not to think that the years that we lost together were just a mistake, I guess. I wanted some divine intervention, some grand reason, some romantic tragedy. And I ended up with the basic human convention of lack of communication."

"Blair, what Naomi and Joe shared isn't so uncommon. How many times have you had a relationship that was great while it lasted, but just never had a chance to grow into something meaningful?"

"More times than I can count. Every time, until you."

"So you see, neither of them could have known what would happen. They just took what they could get, and it was enough. It was something better than enough, Chief - they made you. And I, for one, will always be grateful for that."

He could feel Blair smile next to him. "I love you, Jim."

"I love you, too, Blair."

They awoke the next morning to find the sun already high in the sky. To their surprise, it was nearly noon.

"Man, I can't believe we slept so late," Blair said, when they emerged from their room.

"It's not so unusual. It was nearly four when we got to bed," Richie said, offering them coffee in the kitchen. "Joe was called away for a couple of hours on business, something unavoidable, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Breakfast or lunch?"

"We could split the difference and go out somewhere for brunch," Jim said. "Pay you back for letting us stay here."

"It's not necessary - "

"Please," Blair said. "I wouldn't mind the chance to talk some more."

Richie smiled. "Sure. I'll leave a note for Joe. There's a great place down by the water." He scribbled the note and left it on the counter where it was sure to be seen. "I have to warn you, though - I've been told that I have a very healthy appetite."

"You, too, eh?" Blair said. "Good to know that I'm not the only one."

"How long have you known Joe?" Blair asked, after they'd been seated at a table. Jim had stepped away from the table to make a phone call.

Richie thought for a moment. "About seven years."

He looked surprised at the answer. "How old are you?" Blair asked, pointedly, then groaned. "I'm sorry - "

Richie grinned. "Don't worry about it. I get that a lot. Let's just say I'm about five or six years older than you think I am."

"And the age difference between you doesn't bother you?"

"Does the age difference between you and Jim bother you?"

"Point taken. It did," he admitted.

"For you, or for him?"

"Mostly him." He thought a minute. "Actually, it was pretty much all him."

Richie nodded. "Yeah - been there, done that. The only thing that I regret is that - " He trailed off.

"That he'll be gone before you."

"Yeah."

"And you think it will last that long?"

"I know it will."

"My - " Blair caught himself a second before the word came out of his mouth. "Joe is a very lucky man."

Richie looked up from his meal. "Believe me, I'm the lucky one," he said.

Richie returned to the house alone, leaving them to look around Seacouver for a little while alone. He sensed Blair's need for a little space, and told them just to come back to the house when they were ready.

"So, how are you doing, Chief?"

"I'm confused, Big Guy. I like him. I like both of them, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."

"Do about what?"

"About letting him into my life. I don't even know if he wants to be in my life. I mean, what do I do? Put him on my Christmas card list?"

"Blair, you're Jewish."

"You know what I mean, Jim. I don't know how to do this."

"And you told me that you didn't know how to 'do' relationships, either, but you gave us a try, and look how we turned out."

"But I love you. I don't know how I feel about Joe."

"Yeah, but you didn't love me the second that we met. Give him some time. You both have to set up your boundaries right now. Just go with what feels right. Maybe a little space, a little perspective, and you'll be able to make a clearer decision about things. Nobody says that you have to decide everything right now."

"Yeah, you're right." They'd wandered quite far down by the marina, and turned back to start the trek back to the truck. "Play it by ear. I can do that."

Jim gave him a skeptical look, but said nothing.

The tension at dinner was palpable. Despite trying to keep a running conversation between all of them, even Richie's energy level was flagging by the time the meal ended.

"Have you decided how long you'll be staying to Seacouver?" he asked.

"We'll probably head back tonight, as a matter of fact," Blair said, glancing at Jim. "The work doesn't go away just because we're not there."

"It's the same for us," Joe agreed.

"You will come back, though, won't you?" Richie asked, anxiously. "You've hardly had any time here."

Blair shrugged. "I don't really know, to tell you the truth. It just seems a little late to start anything, I guess. We've lost so much time already."

"But isn't that all the more reason not to want to lose any more?"

"Rich, it's okay, really," Joe said, putting a hand on his arm.

"No, it's not. But that's just me, speaking as the only one here who doesn't have any family to choose from, at all." He got up off of his chair, and started stacking the dishes. "It gives me a bit of a different perspective."

"Rich - "

He shook his head. "No, let me." He piled everything he could carry into his arms, and walked into the kitchen, leaving the rest of them sitting there, in silence. Blair was very pointedly not looking at anything, Jim was looking at him, and Joe, after a minute, went into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. That's why I came in here." Joe went over to where Richie was leaning against the sink and wrapped his arms around him, steadying himself by leaning into the embrace. "You know that you're more than family to me, right?"

Richie smiled. "I know. And that means more to me than you can ever possibly imagine, but if you give up this chance to know someone who's your real family, you'll regret it." He brushed a hand through the salt-and-pepper strands. "And I don't want to watch you regretting it for the next fifty years."

That made Joe smile. "Always the optimist."

"Always," Richie agreed, and moved to kiss him. Just as their lips touched, there was a small cough behind them. Joe turned to see Blair there in the doorway, holding an armful of dishes.

"Thanks," Richie said, coming to take the dishes from him. "I should go and clear the rest of the table," he said, dumping them by the sink, and left before either of them could get a word in edgewise.

Blair shook his head. "Is he always that subtle?"

Joe laughed. "Not always. Sometimes." He sobered. "I don't know how to do this either, you know. If you think that it's easier for me - "

"I don't. I just - " He paused, sighing. "I don't know what I expected."

"You expected that it would be easier to hate me."

"Or love you."

"We don't even know each other, Blair. I think going one way or the other is asking a little bit much, don't you?"

He nodded. "I just grew up with all of these fantasies about my father, and now I'm faced with reality, and I don't know what to do about it. I never really thought that I'd ever find out who you were."

"You've got one up on me, though," Joe pointed out. "You knew that I existed at one point in time. I didn't even have that. I don't blame Naomi," he added, hastily, "none of this was fair on any of us, Blair. It was just fate, I guess."

"You believe in fate?"

"Sometimes." He smiled. "Sometimes it happens to work out better than others."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Fate's been kind to us in other ways, so why not in this?"

"Do you think, that if you'd grown up with me in your life right from the beginning, that you'd be better off right now?"

Blair shook his head. "I don't know."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"And in love, that's obvious. You're intelligent, successful, and apparently made one hell of a sunflower in your first-grade school pageant."

"Oh, man! I cannot believe that Naomi told you about that!"

Joe laughed. "She's proud of you. She tried to cram twenty-five years of memories into three days."

Blair shook his head. "You're right about my life - it is better right now than I ever thought I had a right to expect, but I can honestly say that I'm genuinely sorry that I didn't know you before."

"There's nothing that says that has to continue."

"No, there isn't, is there?"

After a moment's hesitation, Blair held his hand out to the older man. Smiling, Joe took it in his own.

They returned to the club that night. Richie saw a few friends of theirs already ensconced at a table, and drew up some more chairs, making introductions as he did so.

"Duncan MacLeod, Adam Pierson, meet Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison. They're from Cascade."

"Cascade, eh?" Duncan said. "What brings you here?"

"I came to meet my father," Blair said, surprising all at the table. A glance passed between he and Joe, noticed by all.

"It's a long story," Joe said, to the two older Immortals.

"An interesting one, no doubt," Methos said.

"Believe me, you don't know the half of it," Blair put in, as Jim smiled.

"Neither do you," Richie said, under his breath. "This could be a very interesting evening all around."

The End
MonaR.