Closing arguments in the Bernardi trial took place a couple days
later.  In the first week of February, the case was turned over to the
jury.  They had a long list of charges to sift through, everything from
prostitution and illegal gambling to first degree murder and various
conspiracy charges relating to Jim's ordeal.

     With the jury out, Jim decided to return to work, figuring a little
business as usual routine would be good for him.  Blair was at his side
most of the time, since he was on leave from Rainier.  Jim opted not to
see the therapist again, while Blair spent a couple hours per week with
him.

     The mystery of Sam Wilson's sudden compliance unfolded soon
after Jim's return to active duty.  While running a routine check on
another Wilson--this one named Samantha, who was a suspect in a
current murder case--Jim ended up perusing Sam Wilson's record out
of dark curiosity.  He found a reference to a Mindy Wilson, Sam's
sister.  Upon running Mindy's name, he found himself viewing a
juvenile record--Mindy was seventeen, and her last encounter with
Cascade's finest  had been for possession of marijuana.  That topped a
list of several offenses, including shoplifting, prostitution and
vandalism.  The pot charges had been dropped the same day that Sam
Wilson decided to change his story.  

     Mindy's last arrest before the pot charge had been two years
earlier.  In that time, there was no record of her having been arrested or
involved in any sort of trouble.  Chances were good that the Major
Crimes team had searched Wilson's background for a weak spot and
then homed in on it.  Mindy was picked up outside her high school,
detained at headquarters for an undisclosed period of time, then
released to her mother's custody.  

     The officer in charge of the case was Rafe, and he made a note
on the file that there was enough doubt as to how the girl came by the
drugs to formally charge her.   She claimed her boyfriend must have
put it in her backpack, and Rafe noted that the juvenile she named as
her boyfriend had a long list of possession charges after his name, so he
found that story plausible and let her go. 

     As life had seemed to take on some semblance of normality
again, and Jim's world seemed to be moving back into alignment, Blair
started working on his dissertation a little, the stress of the trial
somewhat behind them now that it was in the hands of the jury.  When
he wasn't with Jim, he was haunting the library, working on his
computer, meditating, or just taking some of the time Jack O'Brien kept
telling him he needed to just do nothing.

     It was on one of these "nothing" outings that Blair braved the
icy February wind chill to take a walk through Cascade Memorial Park
to watch the ice skaters.  Jim was just trudging through paperwork at
the department, and Blair felt he needed some down time, so he
bundled up and went to the edge of the pond and watched the Saturday
afternoon crowd trying their luck on the ice.  He smiled as he thought
about coaxing Jim out there to skate.  Blair had only been on skates a
few times in his life, and it hadn't been a terribly pretty sight.  For some
reason, he pictured Jim as a good skater, someone who could probably
teach him how to do it right.  Of course, he gave Jim credit for
knowing how to do almost everything, even if there was no reason to
assume he could.

     A young couple stopped not too far from where Blair stood,
laughing, talking and watching the skaters.  Within moments, they gave
up on the chatter and kissed, more than once, then stood there, each
with an arm around the other, looking out at the pond and talking
softly, occasionally stealing little kisses.

     Blair turned away from them and closed his eyes, feeling a wet
burning behind them.  If he behaved that way with his lover in this
setting, there would be so many disgusted looks and exchanged
mutterings among the other people nearby that it would drive Jim
crazy.  It would annoy Blair, but he would be much better able to tune
it out than his sentinel lover would.  On the few occasions they'd tried
to take the same privileges other lovers have in regard to public
displays of affection, Jim had usually ended up irritable and short-tem
pered and would eventually admit that he was sick of the earful of
crude remarks and name-calling and the eyeful of disgusted looks. 
None of it was anything he could act on, since it was something his
sentinel abilities detected.  Given Jim's height, demeanor and obvious
superior physical condition, very few people made their disgust known
in obvious enough ways to incur his retaliation.  But the disgust was
still there, nonetheless.

     Blair opened his eyes again, aware of the bitter bite of the cold
wind against a couple of tears that slipped under his closed lids.  What
they had gone through to win the right to love each other wasn't fair. 
And even then, they still hadn't earned the right to enjoy the simple
pleasure the young couple nearby were enjoying.  To show their love
openly without being made to feel like some sort of freak show.

     The couple kissed again, and it was much more prolonged. 
Blair felt the envy of this public intimacy stab him in the chest, and he
suddenly missed Jim so bitterly that it was becoming unbearable.

     "What's your problem, buddy?"  The male half of the couple
had spotted him standing there near the tree, his eyes riveted on their
kiss.

     "How does it feel?"  Blair shot back, realizing the other man
had no way of knowing the significance of that comment.  He turned
and started back toward his car.  In a moment, his arm was grabbed and
he was spun around to face the slightly taller, slightly younger man he
had been watching.

     "You some kind of peeping tom or what?"

     "Look, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to invade your privacy."  Blair
jerked his arm free of the other man's grip.  "I don't want any trouble
with you."

     "Then you shouldn't have started it," the dark-haired man spat
back.  In a flash quick enough to catch Blair off guard, the man swung
and his fist impacted with Blair's face, sending him sprawling on his
back in the snow.

     "Will!!  Stop it!!"  a female voice came from behind the angry
man.  His girlfriend came to a skidding stop next to him.  "Leave him
alone," she said, taking a hold of her boyfriend's arm.  "I'm really
sorry," she said to Blair, who was just becoming aware of where the fist
had landed, and could feel the swelling starting around his eye. 
Unmoved by his girlfriend's intervention, the other man leaned toward
Blair a moment, when he froze, staring at a point behind the fallen
man.

     "I hope you've got damned good health insurance, you son of a
bitch!"  Jim's voice startled Blair, and attracted the attention of a good
number of people in the park.

     "Look, man, it was a misunderstanding!"  the young man
hastened to explain, backing away from where Blair was sprawled,
holding both hands up placatingly.  "I, uh, was just gonna apologize
and uh, help him up."

     "Jim, come on, he's not worth the effort," Blair called after his
advancing lover.  Given Jim's strength and combat training, he could
make short work of this garden-variety bully, and would probably end
up in jail on assault charges.  Or worse, depending on how angry he
got, and he looked pretty damned angry.

     Jim grabbed the front of the other man's jacket, lifted him about
four inches off the ground and slammed him against the nearby tree. 
Keeping an arm forcefully under the man's throat, pinning him in place,
he fished out his ID and shoved it in the startled man's face.

     "You're under arrest for assault and battery.  You have the right
to remain silent--"

     "Jim--"

     "Stay out of this, Chief," Jim shot back at Blair, who had gotten
up and was right behind him, then returned to reading the other man his
rights before letting him back down to his feet, spinning him around
and cuffing him.  "You come down to the station.  We'll need your
signature on a complaint."

     "Jim--"

     "This guy didn't slug you?"

     "Well, yeah, but--"

     "But what?"  Jim demanded.  Blair chewed his lower lip a
moment, then looked at the girl, who seemed horrified by the whole
ordeal, tears tracking down her cheeks.  

     "Does he ever hit you?"  Blair asked her, surprising all three of
the others present.

     "Of course not!"  she shot back with genuine indignation.  From
the way the two had been kissing and interacting before the incident,
Blair was inclined to believe her.  With Jim's volatile temper, he could
only too easily see himself in her place, with Jim being hauled away in
handcuffs for slugging some guy who pissed him off by staring at them
too long.  Hoping he was banking a little good Karma for both of them,
he turned back to Jim.

     "Please let him go, Jim."

     "You're kidding, right?"  Jim asked, a disbelieving half-smile on
his face.

     "No.  Look, I was staring at them--I didn't meant to--and he got
upset.  It happens."

     "Staring isn't adequate provocation for a physical assault."

     "I know that, but I think it was just a misunderstanding.  I said
something weird, I was thinking about something totally different, and
I think he took it the wrong way."

     "You really want to let this pass?"

     "Yeah, I really do."

     "What's your name, ace?"  Jim asked the man who was still
being held against the tree, facing away from the group.

     "Will Foster."

     "All right, Will Foster.  You're off the hook for the moment,
because he's a hell of a lot more forgiving than I am."  Jim unfastened
the cuffs, and the other man moved away cautiously, and was
immediately embraced by his relieved, crying girlfriend.  "Keep your
nose clean, Foster.  I'd love a reason to throw your ass in jail.  Got it?"

     "Yeah, I got it."  He looked over at Blair.  "I'm sorry about
before.  Thanks for, uh, you know..."  The other man held out his hand
to shake, but Blair just raised his hand, shaking his head.

     "Don't push it, man."

     "Just get moving, Foster."

     The other man didn't say anything else, but guided his clinging
girlfriend along with an arm around her as they hurried away from the
scene.

     "You want to tell me why I just let that son of bitch walk?"

     "What are you doing here anyway?  I thought I was supposed to
meet you at the station later?"

     "It's later," Jim responded.

     "Oh, man."  Blair checked his watch, surprised to see that it was
already almost four-thirty and he had been due to meet Jim at four.

     "Have you been crying?"  Jim took a hold of Blair's chin and
evaluated his face carefully.  The other man knew lying was pointless. 
Jim had his answer by now anyway.  "We better go home and put some
ice on that eye."  Jim winced a little as he took in the swelling and the
start of a very prominent shiner.

     "I was standing here watching them--the couple.  And they were
talking and kissing and holding each other, right out here with all these
people...nobody was looking at them all that much.  Nobody thought
anything of it.  They were just a couple of lovers in the park.  No big
deal."

     "I think I see where this is headed," Jim said softly, releasing
Blair's chin and shoving his gloved hands back in the pockets of his
leather coat.

     "I just got to feeling bad, you know, that when we do something
like that, somebody always looks at us funny or has something to say
that you can overhear.  I guess I wanted you to let him go because I
know you'd deal with people staring at us the same way if you could--or
if the people who make remarks about us made them to your face.  He
got annoyed that I was staring--I actually wasn't *watching* them, I
was more or less lost in my own thoughts, really, and just kept staring. 
He asked me what I was looking at, or what my problem was, or
something like that, and I said 'How does it feel?'  I was thinking out
loud.  I didn't mean to say it to him, but I guess he thought I was some
sort of voyeur asking him how it felt to kiss her.  I don't know. 
Anyway, I figured that maybe if I could forgive him, it would bank a
little good Karma for us if there's ever a scene with us and some jerk
who's watching us.  You'd have probably slugged me in his place."

     "Come on, Chief.  You're frozen through.  Let's go home and
thaw out and take care of your eye."  Jim slid his arm around Blair's
shoulders, and the younger man mirrored the gesture, leaning into Jim
and not really caring who was watching.

     "I was crying because I felt bad we couldn't have their freedom,
but mostly because I was watching them kissing and messing around
and I wanted to be with you."

     "You're with me now, sweetheart."

     "How'd you know where to find me?"

     "Just a fluke.  I know you come here to think sometimes--usually in
 the nice weather, though," Jim added, smiling a little.

     "So how about teaching me how to skate, huh?"

     "What makes you think I'm any good at it?"   Jim asked, the
amusement plain in his voice.

     "I bet you are."  Blair was smiling as Jim stopped them in their
tracks and turned to face Blair.  It was painfully cold, and there on the
hill where they stood, not far from where their vehicles were parked,
the wind was even more powerful.  Snow was falling, fluffy white
snowflakes sticking to Blair's curls, which were hanging loose on his
shoulders.  

     Jim slid both hands into the mass of soft hair and swooped on
Blair for a prolonged, passionate kiss, right there on the hill in the park
on a Saturday afternoon.  When they finally separated, the two men
rested their foreheads together, smiling and a little breathless.

     "Was that a yes about the skating?"  Blair asked.  Jim laughed
and pulled him into a tight embrace.

     "That was a yes to anything you ask, angel.  If you want to kiss
in the park on Saturday afternoon, ice skate, whatever, all you ever
have to do is ask."

     "Thank you for falling in love with me," Blair murmured
against Jim's chest.  "For making my life so special.  I love you so
much, mine.  So much more than you'll ever know."

     "I know," Jim replied softly, pulling back and looking Blair in
the eyes.  "I know how much I love you, so I think I've got a little idea."

     "What I said before...Jim, I didn't mean that I ever...that what
we have isn't perfect--"

     "You'd just like the rest of the world to be happy for us."  Jim
smiled as Blair nodded a little, looking down.  "I guess for now we'll
have to settle for our friends being happy for us and the rest of the
world having to deal with their own prejudices."  Jim looked at Blair's
swelling eye, and released the younger man, digging around in his
pockets.  Blair smiled, a bit confused, when Jim produced a sandwich-sized evidence bag, but
laughed a little when the larger man crouched
down to fill it with snow.  He then wrapped the makeshift ice bag in his
handkerchief so it wasn't too cold against Blair's skin.  "Hold this on
your eye 'til we get home."

     "Is that a survivalist trick from Covert Ops or something?" 
Blair asked, accepting the ice bag and feeling the relief as it began to
chill the pain.

     "Nope.  Seeing you hurting is a real good motivator for me to
improvise in a big hurry."  Jim leaned forward and kissed Blair's
forehead, then put his arm back around him and lead him toward the
Volvo and the Ford pulled up behind it.  "We can drive your car home. 
I'll come back and get the truck."

     "I can drive--"

     "Not with one eye half closed.  No arguments.  Give me the
keys, sweetheart."  Jim held out his hand and Blair placed the keys
there, then got into the passenger side while Jim went back to the truck
to be sure it was locked and then folded himself into the Volvo and
started the engine.

     As soon as they were home, Jim set out again in the Volvo and
swung by the station to pick up Rafe, who had agreed to help him
retrieve his truck.  After the prolonged shifting around of vehicles,
Rafe was on his way home in his own car from the police garage, and
Jim drove back home in the truck, having left the Volvo there before
taking Rafe back to headquarters.

     When he entered the loft, the pleasant rush of warmth began
thawing his wind-nipped skin.  Blair had a good fire going, something
soft playing on the stereo, the mattress from his old futon bed along
with a bunch of pillows and blankets spread near the fireplace.

     "Hey, Jim," Blair's voice came from the kitchen, where he was
preparing something hot and tasty-smelling in a pan on the stove.  

     "Let me see your eye," Jim said, moving toward Blair and
taking a hold of his chin.  "That's a nasty one, Chief."

     "I'll survive.  I'm making us some stew and coffee, and there are
rolls in the oven.  I thought we could eat by the fireplace.  I don't know
about you, but I'm freezing."

     "I was, until I came in here," Jim responded, wrapping his arms
around Blair from behind as the younger man stirred the delicious-smelling 
beef stew.  It was a reheat of some he'd made the night before,
but it had been delicious then too.  The wind picked up outside, and
whistled loudly as it assaulted the building, seeping in microscopic air
holes in the window casings.

     "Thanks for coming to my rescue in the park today."

     "I'll always come to your rescue, sweetheart.  As long as I
live...well, even after that, if I can."

     "You won't have to, because I won't last a day without you."

     Jim didn't try bolstering Blair with a lot of pep talks on how
well he would survive.  He fervently hoped he would, and that he'd go
on and make the most of whatever time he had left beyond Jim's.  Their
age difference wasn't exactly a huge chasm, but it was enough to
assume that, if all went according to statistical probability, Blair would
have to put in some of his "golden years" alone.  Based on how thin,
pale, drawn and generally run-down Blair was when Jim returned from
his ill-fated life as J.J. Rush, Jim didn't hold the same level of
confidence in Blair's resiliency without him that he once had.  It was a
very good motivator to be careful on the job and take care of his own
health.  Blair's love for him obviously translated into a very tangible
need.  And Jim would fight with his last breath to meet one of Blair's
needs.

     "Guess I have to live to be an old fart then."  Jim felt Blair
smile at the spot where their faces were touching.

     "You'll stay with me forever, then?"

     "You have my word on that.  You know I'll always be with
you."

     "I know."

     "Dinner smells good.  So do you," Jim murmured against Blair's
neck where it rose out of the bulky sweater he was wearing.  "Next
Friday's Valentine's Day.  What do you want to do to celebrate, huh?"

     "Take the day off and stay at home together and fool around all
day."

     "Now those are the words every man dreams of hearing."  Jim
laughed a little.  "Where have you been all my life?"

     "Waiting for you to find me," Blair answered, smiling.  "You
know, Jim, it's not that I don't love all this togetherness and everything,
but I need to get the rolls out of the oven."

     "Sorry, sweetheart," Jim responded, giving Blair a last squeeze
and moving away to start transporting their provisions into the living
room.  He set the coffee table up as a supply station, and then went into
the bathroom to shower quickly, as Blair had earlier, and then upstairs
to change into jeans and a favorite old sweater.

     By the time Jim returned downstairs, Blair had everything laid
out on the coffee table like their own little buffet.  The loft was dark
except for the orangish-gold glow of the fire and a few well-placed
candles.  The whistling wind conspired with the cozy setting to make
the living room seem like heaven.

     "This was a great idea, Chief," Jim said, sitting on the makeshift
bed by the fireplace.  Blair served him a bowl of the stew and a roll,
which he began eating as soon as his lover was seated with his own
food.

     "I thought we needed a little change of pace.  Plus, we were
both kind of frozen from standing around in the park."

     "How's your eye feeling?"

     "Like it ran into a very large fist.  It hurts.  I'll live."

     "Guess it'll be up to me to keep your mind off it tonight, huh?"

     "Guess so," Blair responded, smiling as he ate his meal.  "We
got a new neighbor next door."

     "Do I want to hear this?"  Jim asked hesitantly, having been so
relieved by Stan's absence that the prospect of any new neighbor made
his blood run cold.

     "Could be good or bad.  It's one of the professors from the
University.  I think it'll be cool though.  He's probably about your age,
single, and he teaches Biology and Natural Science.  If you think *I'm*
a science nerd..."  Blair trailed off, laughing a little.

     "Do you know this guy very well?"

     "Only to speak to in the hall.  He's divorced, has a grown son
who's a junior at Rainier."

     "I hope he's bald and has body odor."

     "You have to get over this jealousy thing, man.  I am *so* not
looking for anybody else."  Blair shook his head as he tore off a piece
of his roll to soak up a little of the stew's broth.

     "I think I'm past that, sweetheart," Jim responded, laughing.  "I
was kidding."  He paused a few moments.  "Well, mostly."

     "He doesn't have body odor, that I've noticed passing him in the
hall anyway, and I'd call him average-looking.  Greying black hair and
a short beard, glasses.  He's a little taller than me."

     "Does he know you live here?"

     "He does now.  I didn't know he'd moved in until I ran into him
by the mailboxes downstairs.  He's pretty quiet.  He'll probably keep to
himself."

     "I wonder where Stan ended up."

     "The last time I saw him--it was right before you were released
from the hospital the second time--he said he was going to stay with his
mother in Spokane while he got his strength back and then look for
another place--maybe in Spokane or Seattle."

     "Do you miss him?  I know you were friends before all this
happened."

     "We weren't exactly *friends*.  More like acquaintances.  A
friend wouldn't have done what he did.  I *thought* he was a friend. 
He was a good listener, and I was pretty screwed up while you were
gone.  He looked in on me while I was sick, stuff like that."

     "Sick?"

     "I had a really bad cold.  He ran a couple errands for me while I
had a fever and checked up on me from time to time.  I appreciated it
at the time."  Blair shook his head.  "None of that spelled burgeoning
romance to me, but I guess it did to him."  Blair shrugged and set his
empty dish aside.  "I don't miss him."

     "Good.  As much as I hated the guy...Blair, I don't want to stop
you from having the friends you want to have.  I can't promise you I
won't ever get jealous again, because I know that's a lie.  It's not that I
don't trust you, but in case you haven't noticed, you turn a lot of heads."

     "Yeah, sure I do," Blair replied, laughing a little and taking a
drink of his coffee.

     "Oh, come on, Sandburg.  I know you're not that naive.  You
know what you look like."

     "Yeah.  And I don't understand what the fuss is all about."

     "Then you have lousy taste."

     "Guess I just go more for big, buff cops," Blair responded,
flexing his eyebrows.  "Now you want to talk about a head-turner. 
Man, when the women get a look at you, I feel like I should be
traveling with a tranquilizer gun in case one goes wild and attacks."

     "Well, I haven't had to peel any sex-starved women off me
lately, Chief."

     "Right, because they know I'd have to dismember them if they
did."

     "Whoa, and you call *me* the jealous type."

     "I don't get jealous.  I get even," Blair replied, cackling a little.

     The two men chattered on and finished their meal and a couple
cups of coffee, just visiting and watching the snow fall on the frigid
outside world.   When most of the coffee had been drained, Jim set
their cups aside and stretched out on the futon mattress, with Blair
snuggling against his side, head resting on the broad chest.  Jim let his
hand idly run through Blair's hair, just soaking up the perfect relaxation
and closeness and peace of the moment.  

     "You're still my best friend," he said softly, letting his eyes drift
shut and releasing a cleansing breath.

     "Ditto, lover.  Still my favorite person."

     "Sometimes the whole mess with Bernardi seems like it
happened years ago."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah.  Tonight...I can't picture everything in my world not
being perfect."  Jim smiled.  "I know it isn't, but this is.  Tonight is."

     "Just feels good to lie here and be so warm and comfortable and
listen to the music together."

     "Do you mind if we just let it be like this a while?"  Jim wanted
to make love to Blair soon, but not right away.  There was something
magical about the peace and tranquility of the crackling fire, the soft
music and the dancing golden light of the room.  He just wanted to rest
there and feel Blair close against him, just sharing each other's space.

     "I'd like that."

     They passed a few hours that way, just lying there and relaxing,
almost like a shared meditation.  Occasionally, they talked about
something, mostly peaceful little topics, shared anecdotes from each
other's lives, reflections on their "wedding reception" almost a year
earlier, a few stray ponderings about Jim's most recent case.  By
midnight they were asleep in each other's arms.

********

     When Blair woke, it was to the feeling of warm lips working
their way up his stomach as his sweater was pushed upward.  He
smiled and let out a little groan of approval without opening his eyes. 
He raised his arms when gentle hands pushed the sweater up farther,
then pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.  He finally opened
drowsy eyes to see a vision that quickly dispelled any thoughts of sleep. 
Jim had already stripped, and now that sleek, perfectly sculpted body
was moving over him, undressing him slowly, kissing every inch of
revealed flesh.  Blair moaned in relief when his rapidly engorging cock
finally was released from the confines of his jeans, and happily raised
up and cooperated in ridding himself of the last of his garments.  
     
     Jim carefully lowered himself to blanket his lover, kissing him
and probing the full, soft lips with his tongue.  He gained entry
immediately, their mouths melding and tongues sliding together in
perfect synch.  Jim was rocking them together a bit now, driving Blair
crazy with the friction.  He was stunned speechless by Jim's next
maneuver.  He found the lube Blair had stashed under the pillows and
handed it to the smaller man, kissing him gently before taking a deep
breath and rolling over on his side.

     Blair stared at the lube in his hands for a moment as if it were a
live snake, then realized he couldn't let Jim wait long, considering what
he was offering.  He spooned himself around behind his larger lover,
running his hand over pert nipples and letting the hand roam over Jim's
firm chest and stomach in a gesture that spoke of pure affection.

     "Are you sure?"  he whispered.

     "No," came the hoarse, honest reply.  "But I want to try again."

     "I love you, mine."  Blair planted a kiss on Jim's back before
uncapping the lube and squeezing some onto his fingers.  He took a
deep breath and slowly ran his greased finger up and down the seam of
Jim's buttocks, letting his finger pass over the little pucker several
times before adding more lube and gently probing the little opening. 
"Love you, babe...love you so much," Blair whispered against Jim's
shoulder, trailing kisses over his shoulder and back while the finger
finally braved slipping past the initial resistance.  

     Jim wasn't objecting or pulling away.  He wasn't participating a
whole lot either, but Blair had no problem being the one to do most of
the work.  He knew his normally fearless lover was scared to death of
this one act, and all he had the courage to do at the moment was lie
there and let Blair touch him.  That, in itself, was a huge stride forward
for the man who had been able to finally take Blair, or make passionate
love to him in a variety of other wonderful ways, but who couldn't lie
still and have anything *done to him* since the rape.

     "Feels so good to touch you, lover.  Love you so much, mine," 
Blair murmured, finally stretching and massaging with the first finger
before slipping it back out to lubricate a second one.  "Relax, babe. 
Wanna make it so good for you," Blair whispered, carefully easing two
fingers into the snug passage.  Not only were they working against
Jim's fear-induced tension, but also the fact he hadn't been on the
receiving end of this act in ten months now, and his body wasn't as
receptive physically as it might have been earlier.  

     "Talk to me, Chief," he muttered.  

     "Relax and feel me, tune into me, lover.  Let your senses fill up
with me...with the person you're with.  Realize you're with the one who
loves you more than his own life.  I'd never hurt you, lover.  You're
safe.  Just relax and let yourself feel good.  Relax.  I won't hurt you,"
Blair said, all in the same soft, soothing monotone he hoped would
keep Jim peaceful.  He was rewarded with a relaxation of the muscles
that had been tight around his fingers.  

     Feeling the burning of his own need now, he let himself
remember what it had been like to slide into that hot tunnel, to feel
himself sheathed to the hilt inside of Jim's body.  He let out a little
whimper unintentionally at the memory, the pleasure of the thoughts
alone so intense that it was all he could do to remember to talk to Jim.

     "Feeling okay, mine?  I love you, you know that.  Feels so good
to be touching you.  Love you so much, babe.  We need to stretch a
little more.  Don't be afraid.  You know it's going to feel full and a little
uncomfortable at first, but you tell me if it's too much, lover."  Blair
coated three fingers and offered a silent prayer to any deity who would
listen to help him not to hurt Jim in any way, and to help the other man
relax and enjoy all the love Blair wanted to share with him.  

     "It's okay, sweetheart," Jim responded in a slightly strained
voice.  "Keep going."  

     Blair responded by kissing his way along Jim's back as he
carefully stretched the passage with his three fingers, giving Jim plenty
of time to adjust to the feeling of being opened, and to begin to enjoy
it.  His own erection pounded with the need to bury itself in the moist
heat his fingers were possessing at the moment, but all he had to do
was remind himself of what Jim had been through, and going slowly
wasn't any problem at all.  When he brushed Jim's prostate, the other
man stiffened and let out a moan that was pure pleasure.  Blair
repeated the motion a few times, keeping Jim grunting and moving on
the dancing fingers.

     "I love you, mine.  You're everything to me, lover."  Blair felt
tears welling up with his words.  He would sooner die than hurt Jim,
but he so badly wanted to express his love fully, to finally be inside the
man who was his whole life, to feel that connection again.

     He finally withdrew the fingers, and coated himself with a thick
application of the gel.  

     "Relax, lover.  Just relax.  I'm going to try to come in a little
ways, and you let me know when you feel okay.  I won't move without
hearing from you, babe.  I won't hurt you, lover."  Blair carefully lined
himself up with Jim's center, and the other man drew his knees up
more, making Blair's entry a bit easier. 

     With just the head past the barrier, Blair froze at the little
indrawn breath, and stroked Jim's flank lovingly, concentrating on how
much he *didn't* want to hurt Jim, and how much this time was for
Jim's pleasure...for his healing...more than for Blair's own gratification.

     "Touch me," Jim managed, and Blair slid his hand around the
front of his lover to find a partial erection there.  Gritting his teeth at
his own partially sheathed position, Blair worked at stroking and
pumping the large shaft until it was hardening more and more under his
attentions.  "More...come inside, baby," Jim finally panted, torn
between the pleasure from Blair's hand and the fear of what he would
feel when he was fully impaled.  Blair could hear the fear in those
words, and only eased in a bit more.  Feeling the passage accepting
him, and hearing some pleasured groans from Jim, he finally moved
almost all the way inside Jim's passage, then waited.

     "I love you, mine.  Relax.  We've got all night, babe."

     "Come in, baby.  Now, please," Jim whispered, though the
words were unnecessary.  Blair felt the muscles clamped around him
relaxing, and he slid the rest of the way to finally be sheathed to the
hilt.

     "So good...to be inside you again.  I love you so much," Blair
managed, feeling his ability to keep up a coherent pattern of speech
waning.

     They lay there still a few moments, Jim adjusting to the sweet
intrusion into his body and Blair treasuring the union they had finally
achieved, unwilling to risk hurting Jim or shattering his trust for
anything.

     "Move, baby.  I'm ready for you," Jim finally whispered, and
molding himself to the broad, damp back, his hand busy with Jim's
engorged shaft, Blair began a gentle motion, moving out a bit, and back
in, keeping the pace slow and the force minimal.  

     "Love you, mine," he managed, his voice almost lost to him in
the whirlwind of physical and emotional sensations.  

     "More, sweetheart.  Come on, Blair, make love to me, baby."

     Blair moaned a little at just the words, and began moving a
little faster, but still not as fast as he would have if things had been
different.  Still, the familiar sensation of sliding in and partially out of
that tight tunnel was dragging moans and whimpers of pleasure out of
him, pulling him closer to his climax with each stroke.   

     This time when he impacted with Jim's prostate, he heard a
familiar howl of pleasure out of his lover he hadn't heard since the last
night they'd made love before Jim entered the life of J.J. Rush.  Jim
was moving with him now, their rhythm a shared one, their moans
mingling.  To Blair's delight, Jim came first, spurting his completion
over Blair's hand and the bedclothes.  The contractions of Jim's
muscles around his needy, engorged cock brought Blair to his climax
with a scream of Jim's name.

     They lay in silence for long minutes, Blair plastered against his
lover's sweaty back, his heart pounding against Jim as his hand
wandered soothingly over the flat stomach and broad chest, lulling Jim
back to relaxation, his breathing evening out considerably.

     "I love you," Jim whispered, catching the had and kissing it,
tasting himself there, but more importantly, reassuring himself with the
familiar shape and feeling of his lover's hand in his.  

     "I love you too, mine.  More than my life."  Blair relaxed there a
few more minutes, relishing their complete closeness, and feeling the
joy wash over him at the barrier they'd crossed this night.  His Jim was
back.  Bernardi's thugs no longer held a part of Jim captive.  He was
truly free of them now.  "I should move, lover."  Blair got a tight hold
on Jim's hand, not sure if the slow withdrawal of his now-flaccid organ
would cause Jim discomfort.  If it did, it seemed minimal, and Jim
turned over to pull Blair into a tight embrace, their arms and legs
tangling together as Blair found the edge of the quilt and pulled it over
their cooling bodies.

     "That was...amazing," Jim murmured, pulling Blair tightly
against him.  

     "Are you okay, lover?"  Blair asked from his hiding place
against Jim's chest.

     "I'm okay.  I'm finally okay, sweetheart."  He drew back to look
into Blair's eyes.  Tears reflected the firelight back to him.  "It was
perfect."

     "We took it back from them tonight, Jim.  Anything they took
from us, it's ours again," Blair said softly, reaching up to caress Jim's
cheek.  Jim turned his face to kiss Blair's palm. 

     "It was always here, with us.  I just needed some time to find it
again.  I love you, angel."

     "I love you too."

     And with that, the two men settled in for a peaceful sleep by the
light of the fire, wrapped around each other.

********

     "I think I'm ready to cut back on the sessions now," Blair said,
relaxing into the chair where he sat in Jack O'Brien's office.  It was
snowing heavily again, and Valentine's Day was just two days away. 
Blair was still walking on air after making love to Jim the previous
Saturday--and repeating the activity just the night before his current
counseling session.

     "Any special reason?"

     "I don't know if I should say or not," Blair hesitated.

     "Don't tell me, then, let me guess," the other man said, smiling. 
"You and Jim passed an important intimate milestone?"

     "Oh, man, is it written on my forehead?"  Blair laughed a little
and felt his cheeks warm.

     "Not in so many words, but I think you're convinced that Jim is
finally whole again, and if he's all right, you're pretty close to it."

     "That about covers it.  I've always been relieved you weren't one
of those shrinks who don't say anything."

     "Dragging embarrassing answers out of my patients is
occasionally necessary, but not always," Jack responded, smiling and
taking a swallow of his coffee.  "You want to touch base, say, once a
month for a while?"

     "Yeah, I'd like that.  I'm still...you know, sometimes, I still
worry we're going to hit a huge snag.  And I'm worried about the trial
verdict.   If Bernardi gets off easy..."  Blair sighed.  "I dunno."

     "You don't know if you can handle it or if Jim can?"

     "Either one of us.  It's like the only reason this...rage I feel
inside about everything is cooling down a bit is because Jim seems
better--I mean, aside from the obvious, he had a couple really bad
moments confronting it all again at the trial, but he seems to be really
healing now, moving on.  But still, if Bernardi walks, or if he gets off
on a light sentence, I don't know what that'll do to Jim...or to me."

     "Do you think that's likely?"

     "No, I think he'll get the book thrown at him.  His last goon
confessed, which really messed him up royally.  I don't think he has a
prayer.  I'm just...I guess I'm afraid to hope for things to go back to
normal.  And I wish the damned jury would come back in."

     "Waiting is hell."

     "You said it."

     "So what are you doing to vent your anger these days?"

     "I don't have nearly as much as before, so it isn't as hard.  But I
meditate, or I work out a little.  I mean, I'm nowhere near Jim's league,
but I lift a little, run a little.  The last time I went to the gym when I
was pissed off, I couldn't move by the time I got home.  Of course, Jim
massaging me for an hour was kind of fun."  Blair flexed his eyebrows.

     "The idea is to expend excess energy, not destroy your
musculature," Jack replied, laughing a little.

     "I think I figured that out after I recuperated," Blair said,
sharing the laugh.  "But I do still go to the gym, or meditate, or
sometimes just do something really positive, hopefully with Jim, that
reaffirms how good things are, in spite of what we've been through."

     "Then you'd say that--" Jack frowned as the ringing phone cut
him off mid-sentence.  "Sorry, Blair.  Excuse me a minute," he got up
and picked up the phone on his desk, annoyed to have been interrupted
in the middle of a session.  "Right, thanks.  I'll tell him."

     "What?"

     "Looks like you got your wish," Jack said, hanging up.  "The
jury's reached a verdict.  You want a ride?"

     "I have to call Jim."  Blair pulled out his cell phone and dialed
Jim's number.  There was an almost immediate reply.  "It's me.  Where
are you?"

     "In the truck on the way to O'Brien's office.  Sit tight.  I'll pick
you up, Chief."

     "Okay.  See you in a few."  Blair broke the connection.  "Jim's
coming to get me. But thanks for the offer."
     
     "No problem.  Call me and let me know how it shakes down,
huh?"

     "I will," Blair responded, moving toward the door.

     "I'll get a hold of you with an appointment time."

     "Okay.  Thanks again, Jack."

     "Take care of yourself, Blair.  Hang in there.  You're almost
home."

     "Yeah, we're gettin' there."  Blair smiled slightly and then
hurried out of the office and downstairs to wait for Jim.

********


     Jim and Blair arrived at the court room just before it was called
to order.  There were a number of counts pending against Bernardi, and
the list of verdicts would be a long one.  Blair rested his hand on Jim's
arm in a brief gesture of comfort, and it was enclosed quickly in Jim's
larger hand and held there.  Jim stole a glance across the aisle and
caught the eye of Mrs. Simmons, Annette's mother.  She had been
present in court every day, and had expressed her thanks to Jim on
more than one occasion for his sacrifices in going after Annette's killer. 


     The older woman smiled and Jim returned it, giving her a little
reassuring nod and a covert "thumbs up" with his spare hand.  Her
smile broadened before she turned back to watch the proceedings.

     The bailiff began reading off the charges, and the jury foreman
responded to each one.

     "On the first count of conspiracy to commit murder, how do
you find?"  This was the count relating to Annette's death.

     "Guilty."  At the small word, Mrs. Simmons began quietly
crying into the handful of Kleenex she was clutching, and Jim let out a
whispered "YES" and squeezed Blair's hand.

     "On the second count of conspiracy to commit murder, how do
you find?"  Bernardi's order to his men to dispose of Jim had earned
him this second charge.

     "Guilty."  This drew a little bounce out of Blair, who could
barely resist jumping up and cheering.  

     The rest of the list went on much the same way, with the
charges of prostitution, illegal gambling, assault and battery, and
sexual assault all earning guilty verdicts.  Sentencing was scheduled for
the following week.  As soon as the judge announced that court was
adjourned, a voluminous "whoop" came out of the team of Vice and
Major Crime cops from the undercover team, Simon, Jim and Blair. 
The commotion of hand-slaps and victory signs were more reminiscent
of a championship ball game win that a court verdict.  

     In the midst of the merriment, Jim made eye contact with
Bernardi as he was being led out of the court room.  Despite the
horrific way the operation had ended, and Bernardi's brutal retribution,
the duplicity of being Bernardi's friend and playing on his grief for his
dead brother was a perfect example of why Jim knew he wasn't cut out
for prolonged undercover work anymore.

     The criminal didn't shoot Jim the expected look of loathing, but
rather an odd look of regret.  Jim's own expression was unreadable, and
he looked away quickly, concentrating on rejoicing with his colleagues
and his lover.

     "Detective Ellison?"  A woman's voice came from behind him. 
Mrs. Simmons smiled up at him.   "I wanted to thank you again for
what you did for Annette.  It means everything to me to know that he
didn't get away with it."

     "Me too," Jim replied honestly, leaning down to happily accept
her farewell hug.  "You take care of yourself, now."

     "One day at a time," she responded, smiling a bit shakily as she
drew back.  She was a widow, and Annette her only child.

     "You know where to find me.  Don't hesitate to call if you need
anything, okay?"

     "Thank you.  If all of the police cared as much as you did, a lot
of things would be different," she concluded, squeezing Jim's hand and
then moving away toward the door of the court room.

     While the little victory party dispersed, and Jim and Blair slid
into their coats, Fuller approached them, all smiles and hand extended.

     "No hard feelings I hope.  Just doing our jobs, right?"  He
watched Jim's face, which might as well have been carved in stone as
he stared contemptuously at the lawyer's offered hand.

     "Your treatment of crime victims is nothing short of an
aberration and a disgrace to your profession, and a flashy smokescreen
for your own lack of skill as an attorney.  Now, if you'll excuse me,"
Jim started for the door and Blair was right behind him.  

     Grabbing Blair's hand, Jim pulled the younger man behind him
through the crowd of reporters that clogged the courthouse hall.  The
press waiting at the foot of the courthouse steps were only marginally
more polite, but at least they didn't "rush" the people exiting the
building until they reached the bottom of the steps.  Fuller had
somehow managed to get out there first, grandstanding and vowing to
appeal the ridiculous convictions against his client.  Beverly was
actually drawing a slightly larger crowd, accepting her moment in the
sun at having successfully prosecuted one of Cascade's biggest
organized crime cases.

     "It's over," Blair said quietly, his hand still held tightly in Jim's. 
A few reporters were trickling upward toward the two men, knowing
that Jim had been involved in the operation, a few possibly
remembering the assault case involving Blair that had put two Vice
cops behind bars and a third six feet under.

     Jim glanced at all the press hoopla, at the two attorneys with
their respective clusters of attentive reporters, and then at the man who
had stood by him through a hellish ten months without ever once
wavering in his devotion or his loyalty.  The same man who had stood
alone in the park and watched enviously while other lovers openly
expressed their affection.

     Turning toward Blair, Jim slid his arms around the younger
man's middle, Blair's arms automatically going around Jim's neck. 
Lifting his lover a couple inches off the ground, Jim captured Blair's
startled mouth in a prolonged kiss.  The only reason he didn't smile as a
few cameras captured the moment was because his lips were busy
doing something a lot more enjoyable than smiling.  When he drew
back from the kiss, he kept Blair trapped in a crushing hug, then finally
let him back down on his own two feet.

     "The trial's over, sweetheart, but we're just getting started," Jim
said, grinning down at Blair's awestruck expression, and his all-too-desi
rable kiss-reddened lips.  "One of these days, baby, we're going to
come out on these steps after we get legally married.  It'll happen in
time, and I don't care if I'm 90 years old and you have to wheel me up
the ramp over there, we're going to show up and take advantage of it."

     "Jim, the press--they've got pictures!"  Blair protested.

     "I figure they probably do.  But just in case a few of them were
listening to Beverly and Fuller and missed the photo op," Jim replied,
grabbing Blair again and claiming his mouth in a kiss that seemed even
hotter than the first.  "Let's go home and plan our honeymoon,
sweetheart."  Jim flopped an arm over Blair's shoulders, and the
younger man's arm slid around his back.

     There was a flurry of questions from the crowd of reporters they
passed through, and Jim finally stopped and turned to issue a single
statement.

     "This is Blair Sandburg, my life partner, the love of my life, and
my best friend.  I hope the next time you run into us on the steps here,
it's because they just legalized same-sex marriage in Washington State,
and we were the first couple to take advantage of it."  Squeezing Blair's
shoulders, Jim started them on their way down the sidewalk to the
truck, Blair's head resting on his shoulder.

********

     "There's always Hawaii," Blair said, looking over one of the
brochures as he sat cross-legged on the bed, bundled up in a warm
robe, sipping a glass of wine.

     "How about Acapulco?"  Jim handed him a different brochure. 
"Dan and his wife went there last year--they said it was beautiful."

     "That's a thought.  Warm temperatures would be kind of nice
right about now."

     "I suppose you want me to scrap the Aspen brochure?"

     "I am *not* going downhill skiing.  Not in this lifetime, man." 
Blair shook his head, laughing.

     "You've jumped out of a plane before.  How scary can skiing
be?"

     "I jumped out of plane because my options were kinda limited
if I wanted to go with you.  I don't have any plans to voluntarily hurtle
towards death or serious injury."

     "Okay," Jim replied, laughing.  "No Aspen."  He tossed the
brochure aside.  "Acapulco?"

     "Yeah, I like that idea."

     "What's wrong?"

     "Jim, you do know they're going to print a photo of us kissing in
some newspaper."
     
     "And?"  Jim picked up the Acapulco brochure again, thumbing
through it.

     "You can't be *that* casual about it, man."

     "I *am* that casual about it, Chief.  We're out, and we have
been for a while.  But I haven't exactly shouted it from the rooftops,
and we don't do a lot of the things other lovers do when we're out in
public.  I know that's not easy for you.  Hell, it's not easy for me either. 
I guess it was the rebel in me kicking up his heels a bit."

     "Wonder what Simon'll have to say?"  Blair scooted up on the
bed and tossed his robe aside, climbing under the covers and sitting
propped up next to Jim.

     "Plenty, I imagine."  Jim rolled his eyes a bit.  "We already have
a tenuous situation on our hands, the chief isn't going to be happy and
we're just opening ourselves up for more harassment."  Jim went back
to perusing the brochure.  Blair was already hauling his laptop onto his
lap.  "I don't believe you brought that to bed."

     "I want to surf the 'net for stuff on Acapulco."

     "It's warm, it has beaches and some nice hotels.  We don't need
to know more than that."

     "I do.  I'm a researcher, Jim. *I* need to know more," Blair said,
smiling slightly.  

     "Okay, Einstein.  See what you come up with."  Jim tossed the
brochure aside and fumbled for the remote control, which was buried
partially under Blair's butt.  "Your butt's on the remote."

     "So move it."

     "I'm trying.  Move your ass, sweetheart."

     "That usually has a lot sexier meaning," Blair grumbled, rolling
to one side so Jim could capture his treasure.  The TV in the bedroom
was a mixed blessing at times.

     "I thought we could catch the news.  See if we're on it."

     "Oh, man.  You don't think the TV guys caught that on film?"

     "If they didn't, they ought to be unemployed TV guys
tomorrow."  Jim settled back against the pillows while Blair worked on
his search for information on Acapulco.

     "Oh, man!  Take a look at this."

     "Blair, hang on a minute."

     "No, forget that.  It's just an update on that woman who chained
herself to the doors of the mayor's house."

     "Why'd she do that?  Wonder why we didn't hear about it."

     "I don't remember.  We'll find out tomorrow at work anyway."

     "Then I need to see the story, don't I?"

     "Fine.  Watch the news.  I won't tell you about this resort I
found, or about the footbridge they had to close because of all the
brightly colored exotic birds who took over the spot."

     Curiosity piqued, Jim gave up on the news and looked over
Blair's shoulder at the small screen.  The TV droned on, forgotten, as
the two men explored Acapulco on Blair's laptop.

********

     Blair took the afternoon off from the PD to implement his plans
for Valentine's Day.  With a fire in the fireplace, the loft lit only by
strategically placed candles, and soft music on the stereo, the Cornish
hens were progressing nicely in the oven, Blair turned his attentions to
setting he table as elegantly as it would be in any fine restaurant,
complete with linen tablecloth, candles and the "good dishes".  A
chilled bottle of wine waited in an ice bucket on the end of the counter.

     Dowsing the last bright light in the kitchen, Blair hurried
upstairs and changed into a pair of tight black jeans and a red silk shirt. 
He picked up the package that was Jim's gift and returned downstairs,
placing the red foil-wrapped shirt-sized box on the loveseat.  Satisfied
that everything was on schedule in the kitchen, and up to his standards
in terms of dancing candlelight and soft music, Blair finally sat down
to share the loveseat with Jim's gift.  Not ten minutes later, the key
turned in the lock, and Jim walked in, smiling immediately at the
beautiful setting, and his equally beautiful lover.  Blair spotted the
wrapped package in Jim's hand.  

     "Everything looks beautiful, sweetheart," Jim said as he
shrugged out of his coat and hung it up, then pulled Blair into his arms.
"Dinner smells great."  Jim swooped in to nuzzle Blair's neck.  "So do
you," he mumbled into the soft curls Blair had left hanging loose on his
shoulders.

     "Dinner first, me later," Blair backed away a little, smiling.  "I
don't want to mess up those birds."

     "I'll grab a quick shower and change."  Jim dropped a kiss on
Blair's forehead and headed toward the stairs.  

     "You don't have to go up there.  I...I laid out some clothes for
you in the bathroom.  I hope you don't mind."

     "Why would I mind?"

     "I picked out what I'd like to see you in."

     "Good."  He stopped by Blair long enough to kiss his lips
quickly, then headed for the bathroom.

     Closing the bathroom door, Jim smiled at Blair's choices. 
There was a blue silk shirt Blair had bought for him in a frenzy of
excitement one day because he was convinced it was the only one he'd
ever found that truly matched Jim's eyes.  Beneath the shirt, neatly
folded, were a pair of faded jeans that Jim knew fit every line of his
physique like a glove.

     After showering and dressing in the clothes Blair had chosen,
Jim walked back into the hallway, swept away by the atmosphere.  A
love song played on the stereo, the dancing light of the candles making
the loft almost surreal as it conspired with the delicate strains of music. 
Blair stood in the living room, and Jim moved toward him without
hesitation, taking his lover in his arms and swaying slowly to the
music.  

//Winter snow is falling down,
Children laughing all around,
Lights are turning on
Like a fairy tale come true.
Sitting by the fire we made,
You're the answer when I prayed
I would find someone
And, baby, I found you.

And all I want is to hold you forever,
All I need is you more everyday,
You saved my heart 
From being broken apart,
You gave your love away,
And I'm thankful everyday
For the gift.

Watching as you softly sleep,
What I'd give if I could keep
Just this moment,
If only time stood still,
But the colors fade away, 
And the years will make us gray,
But, baby, in my eyes
You'll still be beautiful.

And all I want is to hold you forever,
All I need is you more everyday,
You saved my heart 
From being broken apart,
You gave your love away,
I can't find the words to say,
I'm thankful everyday
For the gift.//

     Blair pulled back and looked into Jim's eyes.

     "You're my gift, lover.  And I'm thankful everyday I have you."

     "I'd say you were the answer to my prayers," came the husky
reply, "but I never had the audacity to pray for something as wonderful
as what we have.  For someone as special as you."

     "Happy Valentine's Day, mine."

     "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."  Jim leaned forward and
joined Blair in a gentle kiss which grew more passionate as their arms
slid around each other again, holding on tightly.

     "Look at us," Blair said, smiling a little as he pulled back,
brushing at tears, mirroring Jim's own self-conscious gesture.

     "Turning into a couple of sentimental old married people, I
guess," Jim replied, smiling back and kissing Blair's forehead.

     "How about dinner?"

     "I'm starved," Jim admitted, laughing a little.  "So what is all
this?"  Jim asked as he followed Blair into the kitchen.  The younger
man smiled, knowing Jim had not only already cataloged every scent,
but could probably tell him where he bought the Cornish hens, what
seasonings he'd used to cook them, every ingredient that was in the
dressing he'd made and how long it had all been baking.  Still, Blair
enjoyed the indulgence of being able to present the whole thing, and
appreciated Jim playing dumb for once.

     "Cornish hens," Blair began, lifting the pan out of the oven,
then retrieving the dressing that went with them.  "I was going to stuff
them, but there's something kind of gross about having the dressing
stuck all over everything, so I did it separately.  There's french bread on
the table, and it looks like," Blair checked under the lid of the pan on
the stove, "the mixed veggies are almost done.  Oh, yeah, and there's
dessert."

     "Which is?"

     "You'll find out after dinner."

     "Looks beautiful, Chief.  You really knocked yourself out on
this one."

     "Yeah, well, since that day of fooling around fell through and
you had to work, I figured it was the least I could do with my day off," 
Blair responded, scooping the vegetables into a dish which Jim carried
to the table.  "You owe me lasagna this weekend, though."

     "You know I hate making that, Chief."  Jim poured the wine.

     "Yeah, but you're so good at it.  Come on, Jim."

     "How about spaghetti?"  Jim offered, coming back to get the
dish of dressing and the sauteed small potatoes which had been dusted
with parsley.

     "Jim."

     "Okay, lasagna it is," Jim agreed reluctantly.

     "I'll make it worth your while," Blair responded in a decidedly
seductive tone as he served the hens and joined Jim at the table.

     "You usually do, baby," Jim said, grabbing hold of Blair's hand
and kissing it before it completed its journey to the serving platter to
divvy up the goodies.

     The two men ate leisurely, then sipped their wine a while and
talked about their upcoming trip to Acapulco.  Finally, they cleared
away the dinner dishes, Jim happy to leave them in the sink to turn his
attention to his lover and the promised mystery dessert.  Blair directed
him back to the table, ordering Jim to keep his eyes on the living room,
and not cheat until he'd made it back to the table.

     Jim could smell fresh strawberries, and something else sweet,
but he couldn't quite place it.  It didn't seem like whipped cream, which
was his first assumption.  Moments later, the mystery was solved. 
Blair set an ornate stemmed dessert glass in front of Jim.  It was filled
with a carefully crafted swirl of white chocolate mousse, and at the
base of the little peak were two hearts, cut from fresh strawberries,
their edges overlapping slightly.

     "Wow," Jim commented softly, not pleased with his lack of a
more profound reply.

     "I hope you like white chocolate."  Blair set his own dessert
down and sat down again.  

     "It looks beautiful, baby.  This whole night...the music, the
dinner, the candles...it's perfect."  Jim dipped one of the strawberries in
the sweet mousse and held it close to Blair's lips.  Blair's tongue snaked
out to lick the mousse off the fruit first, surreptitiously running along
Jim's finger more than once.  When the strawberry had been thoroughly
cleaned, Blair engulfed it in his mouth, lingering to lightly suck at the
tip of Jim's finger. 

     Withdrawing his finger, Jim leaned in to share the strawberry in
his lover's mouth, kissing him thoroughly and letting his tongue roam
inside the velvet warmth, tasting the tang of the strawberry mixed with
the taste of Blair's mouth.  When they finally pulled back for air, Jim
took a bite of the white chocolate mousse and then kissed Blair again,
sharing the mouthful with him.

     "I don't think I'm gonna last through two servings," Blair gasped
as they separated again.  Jim just laughed.

     "You're right, sweetheart.  If we keep going like this, I'm going
to skip the dessert and eat you alive."

     "Promises, promises," Blair replied, smiling.

     "I love you."  Jim reached for Blair's hand, and they sat there a
moment, their joined hands leading down to elbows on the table,
almost as if they were about to arm-wrestle.  Jim pulled Blair's hand up
to his lips and kissed the back of it.  "Do you remember the name of
that nurse that sent you my name--remember how you first found out
about me?"

     "I remember every detail," Blair replied softly.  "You had the
bluest eyes I'd ever seen, and I thought you were absolutely...stunning."

     "I meant did you remember the girl, sweetheart."

     "What girl?"  Blair asked, smiling and stroking Jim's hand with
his free one.  

     "The nurse."

     "Oh, her.  Wendy Olson.  Why?"

     "I just got to thinking that I ought to send Wendy a thank you
note one of these days.  If she hadn't faxed my files, against every rule
in the book, we wouldn't be together right now."

     "Since Wendy was sort of a girlfriend at the time, she'd
probably be a little annoyed with that," Blair responded, laughing.

     "Sometimes it's scary how small a circumstance was the
difference between us meeting and never knowing about each other."

     "We were meant to be, Jim.  We'd have happened one way or
another.  I believe that with all my heart."

     "Thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't shown
up...I was losing my mind, Blair.  I would have never held it together
without you."

     "I have a lot of faith in you, lover.  You would have figured
something out."
     
     "I probably would have been roadkill by now, pasted to the
pavement by a garbage truck," Jim declared, laughing a little.

     "Thanks for that mental image with dessert.  You trying to kill
my appetite?"

     "Just the one that centers on food."

     "You know, if I finish this mousse, I could get a sugar rush, and
I might be good to go all night."

     "Eat up, Chief," Jim directed, releasing his lover's hand.

     "Ever the romantic," Blair chided, laughing and digging into his
dessert in earnest.

     From dessert, they moved back to the living room, deciding that
the romantic music on the CD player really called for a little more slow
dancing.  And tonight was to be a night of romance--the passion would
wait, and would be that much more intense for the delay.

     Finally, no longer able to limit their contact to the swaying of
clothed bodies, Jim slid his hands into Blair's hair and kissed him, then
pulled back and rested their foreheads together, his hands still tangled
in the mass of curls.  Blair smiled and nodded.  They broke apart for a
moment to blow out the candles that had kept the loft aglow through
their evening.  Joining hands, they made their way upstairs.

     Jim's breath caught in his throat at the sight of their bedroom. 
The usual bedding had been replaced by white satin sheets and a red
satin comforter, candles glowed from candelabra on the dresser. 
Champagne waited in an ice bucket on the nightstand.  

     "Wow," Jim murmured.

     "That's why I didn't want you to come up earlier."

     "Blair...this is...beautiful."

     "You like it?"

     "Sweetheart, if I could be with you tonight, I'd like a sleeping
bag at the rescue mission.  But this--this is...like a fantasy."

     "You're my fantasy come true, Jim.  I couldn't set up a bedroom
fancy enough so you'd know what it means to me to have you."

     Blair's answer came in a kiss, and in the brush of gentle but
hurried fingers as they worked to open his shirt, slide it off his
shoulders, and begin their efforts on his pants as he made short work of
Jim's shirt buttons.

     When clothing finally fell away, Jim swooped his lover up in
his arms, pausing to kiss him again before lowering him on the satin
sheets, then sliding into the decadent sensation himself, snuggling with
Blair under the comforter.  The slide of the satin against his skin and
the movement of Blair's own soft skin with its dusting of hair against
Jim's body was a sensuous overload.  

     With a strangled moan, Jim worshiped Blair's body with his lips
and tongue, sweetly tormenting nipples to hardness, tasting the sweet
flesh that was his alone to explore.  When it was finally time to grope
around the nightstand for the lube, Jim seized it and turned back to find
Blair had shifted onto his side, and was drawing his knees up, ready for
Jim.

     "I've wanted to be inside you all day, angel," Jim murmured
against Blair's ear.

     "I love you, babe.  I want you in there."

     Jim took his time preparing Blair, more time than he really
needed.  The music, the candlelight, the elegance of the bedroom, the
romance of their evening...it all demanded that nothing be rushed. 
When he finally coated himself, he slid carefully inside his lover's
body, wrapping himself around Blair, burying his nose in the fragrant
curls, letting the love and completion he felt fill his heart to its limits
and overflow.

     Their movements were slow and gentle, mixed with little
moans, kisses and words of love.  When they came, they came together
with mingled cries of each other's names.  Blair finally shifted in Jim's
arms until they were face to face, sharing kisses in the sated afterglow.

********

     Blair wasn't sure when he'd dozed off, but when he opened his
eyes, Jim was sitting on the bed in his robe, smiling at his lover.

     "Guess I didn't exactly go all night, did I?"  Blair asked, smiling
a little guiltily as he noticed that it was almost three in the morning. 
He'd been asleep for hours.

     "We've still got a little matter of gifts to deal with here, Chief," 
Jim stated seriously, setting the two boxes he'd retrieved from
downstairs on the bed.  "Maybe this'll wake you up a little."  Jim
handed Blair a glass of champagne as the younger man sat up in the
bed.  "Put this on, sweetheart."  Jim swung Blair's robe around his
lover's back and held it while Blair slipped each arm in the sleeves.

     "Sorry I died on you like that."

     "What's good sex without a good nap?  I just woke up a half
hour ago myself."  Jim picked up his champagne glass and clinked it
against Blair's.  "So, about these presents..."

     "Do you want to go first?"  Blair asked.

     "Nope.  You."  Jim handed him the box, which was about the
right size for a small shirt box, but way too heavy to contain clothing.

     Blair carefully opened the red and white heart paper that
covered the stiff white box.  He tossed the paper aside and removed the
lid, then folded back the red tissue paper inside to reveal what appeared
to be a two-sided 8x10 picture frame.  He opened the frame, which was
a contemporary silver with gold accents.  On one side was a photo
taken by one of the photographers on the courthouse steps the day of
the Bernardi verdict, with Jim and Blair in the heat of their public
liplock.  On the other side, printed in an ornate calligraphy, was a short
verse:

     You were the dream that saved my life,
     You were the reason I survived...
     I never thought that I could love
     Someone as much as I love you,
     I know it's crazy, but it's true,
     I never thought that I could need
     Someone as much as I need you,
     I love you...

     Happy Valentine's Day, Blair

     All my love, Jim


     "I tried to come up with something original, but I'm not really a
poet, so I ended up stealing the lyrics from an old Dan Hill cassette I
found a week or so ago when I was going through some old stuff I had
stored downstairs.  It said everything so much better than I seem to be
able to say it."  Jim watched Blair, who had stared at the gift in silence
since he opened it.  In a move that was lightning fast, the younger man
laid the gift aside and flung himself into Jim's arms, squeezing the
larger man's neck in a frantic embrace.  "Does that mean you like it?" 
Jim asked, smiling a little at his lover's reaction.

     "I love it," Blair managed in a broken voice, then gave in to a
few tears.  "It's beautiful."

     "We're going to have that legal marriage someday, Blair.  I
promise you that."

     "I love you so much I can't stand it sometimes."

     "Me too, baby.  Me too."  Jim gave Blair a last squeeze and
patted his back before pulling away a little.

     "My present's pretty drab compared to this."  Blair was still
wiping at tears and sniffling, picking his treasured gift back up and
examining it again.

     "Hey, don't slam my present until I open it," Jim said, feigning a
defensive tone in his voice.

     "Jim, this is so...special.  You can't know what this means to
me."

     "Yeah, I think I do, sweetheart."  Jim reached over and caressed
a few rumpled curls.  Then he turned his attention to his own package
and after stripping away the paper, opened the large, flat box.  He lifted
out a heavy, dark blue sweater.  A little surprised at the ordinary nature
of the gift from his unconventional lover, he still smiled at it and had to
admit to himself that he liked it and would probably wear it often.

     "I made it," Blair said quietly.

     "What?"  Jim looked up, stunned.

     "I feel stupid," Blair responded, laughing a little.  "You
probably think I'm a real dork--knitting a sweater.  I still can't believe I
did it myself," Blair concluded, blushing the color of the red comforter.

     "It's beautiful, Blair.  How...did you know how to knit before
you did this?"

     "Hell no.  Do I look like a guy who would know how to knit? 
On second thought, don't answer that."

     "I mean, it's really beautiful, Chief--it's not all deformed like a
first attempt usually is.  I can actually *wear* this."

     "I wanted to make you something, and aside from some kind of
beaded necklace, which I really didn't picture being a big hit, I didn't
know what else to do.  I made this while...while you were gone last
year.  Well, actually, Ruth downstairs taught me how to do it, and I
knitted the parts and she put them together to make the sweater."  Blair
referred to the elderly Mrs. Benjamin, who lived with her husband in
their building.  "I was going to give it to you when you got home, but
then it was hot weather...and this just seemed like the right time."

     "Blair...I don't know what to say..."

     "You don't have to wear it if--"

     "This is the most special, beautiful thing anyone ever gave me. 
In my entire life, no one has ever put this kind of time into something
to give me."

     "Yeah, and I had to do the left sleeve twice because my gauge
was off or something.  Anyway, you'd have had to wear it rolled up all
the time so she made me do it over before she'd finish sewing it
together," Blair recalled, laughing.  "She was a really tough task
master."  Blair was surprised to see Jim staring at the sweater, his jaw
going into overdrive.  "I was down there once, a couple days after you
left--you know, I went grocery shopping and I picked up their stuff at
the same time and when I went to drop it off, she was just putting
together this really beautiful sweater she had made for Isaac, and I was
*so* jealous of her being able to make something that special for the
person she loved...I wanted to do it too."

     "Next to you, this sweater is probably the most precious thing in
the world to me," Jim said in a quiet, strained voice.  "I love you,
Blair," Jim added, leaning over to gently kiss his lover.  Then he turned
his attention back to the sweater.  "I still can't believe you did all this. 
It must have taken forever."

     "It was work on chapter five of the dissertation or knit.  I chose
knitting."  Blair grinned, then added, "I had to have a project to keep
me sane.  Doing something for you...you know, by working on the
sweater, with every spare minute...helped a little."  A sadness fell over
Blair's features, and Jim noticed it immediately.

     "What is it, baby?"  He reached up and caressed Blair's cheek.

     "I was so scared you weren't going to come home to ever wear
it.  You know, Jim, it wasn't the separation that made me so crazy--I
mean, that hurt like hell, like having my heart cut out--but it was the
feeling of...of foreboding, and the nightmares...always the panther in
the trap, and it seemed like his howls got worse and worse as the nights
passed...I was so sure something terrible was going to happen.  I just
don't want you to think that I'm trying to put chains on you, Jim.  I
know sometimes you need to get away, have time to yourself--I'm not
trying to stop you from that."

     "Time by myself is very overrated when you're sitting back here
at home wearing nothing but a robe and a smile, Chief."  Jim cradled
the back of Blair's head and kissed his forehead.  "And I understand
why things went down the way they did last year."

     "I love you so much."  Blair moved over to Jim and wrapped his
arms around his lover's neck, and the strong arms came up in response
as they always did, holding him tightly.

     "So, I guess this means we have to buy our own Speedos for
Acapulco, huh?"

     "If you go out on a public beach, you're wearing that sweater," 
Blair announced, moving back a bit, still leaving his arms loosely
around Jim's neck.

     "I am, huh?"  Jim laughed, thoroughly enjoying Blair's
possessiveness and rare flash of jealousy.

     "And jeans.  And boots.  And a ski mask."

     "You're not going on a public beach at all, Chief.  End of story. 
I'm not taking any chances.  I'd hate to have to kill someone on our
vacation."

     "Oooh, I guess you win the jealousy war, man," Blair
responded, laughing.

     "You really think you're going to want to go to a public beach? 
We're going to have our own villa (kiss), our own pool (kiss), a king
sized bed," Jim concluded, tightening his arms around Blair.

     "We have to buy some souvenirs for everybody."

     "Okay, souvenir shopping."

     "And sight-seeing.  I want to take pictures."

     "I can deal with that."

     "Maybe one day at the beach?"

     "You can have anything you want on this trip, angel.  Anything
at all."

     "Just you with me all the time."

     "You got that without asking."

     "Then I don't need anything else.  In Acapulco or Cascade...or
anywhere."   Blair nestled against Jim as the large arms enfolded him
again.

********

     "How much did you say this place cost?"  Blair asked as Jim
closed the door behind the resort employee who had driven them from
the main hotel to their private bungalow.

     "I didn't."  Jim followed his lover to the wall of windows
overlooking the bungalow's private pool, surrounded by a variety of
lush tropical plants, some bearing colorful flowers.  Hibiscus blossoms
floated on the still water of the pool.  Beyond their private hideaway,
the could see the sun setting over the Acapulco Bay from the hillside
on which the resort and its outlying bungalows were located.

     "This is like paradise," Blair commented, sliding open the glass
and stepping out on the patio.  The mild breeze toyed with a few stray
curls that were escaping the hairband, and billowed the loose white
cotton shirt that was barely tucked in to his white pants.  

     "This *is* paradise," Jim corrected, sliding his arms around his
lover from behind, taking in the scent of the ocean breeze, the tropical
plants, and Blair.  He closed his eyes and rested his head against
Blair's.  "I ordered dinner brought to us here tonight.  I hope that's okay
with you.  I know you want to check out the Acapulco nightlife."

     "We've got ten whole days, Jim."

     "Eight full ones, actually."

     "I don't care.  I'm counting today and the day we leave.  It's all
part of our honeymoon."

     "You can stop counting those, Chief.  Everyday's part of that for
me."  

     "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

     "It's probably been a couple hours.  I was starting to doubt you."

     "Really?"  Blair retorted, laughing.

     "Hey, a man's ego is a fragile thing, Chief," Jim replied, smiling
as he held Blair and opened his eyes, and his enhanced vision, to take
in the scenery.

     "What do you see?"  Blair asked.

     "I see the little ripples on the water, the colors of the sunset
reflected against it, a couple of small boats..."  Jim broke off, chortling.

     "What?"

     "Well, I don't think the couple on that one boat expected to have
me doing a sentinel-scan of the bay just now."

     "You mean they were...?"
     
     "Right on deck."

     "Whoa.  Gives a whole new meaning to 'all hands on deck',
doesn't it?"

     "Or the phrase 'drop anchor'."

     "Think we ought to take a nap before dinner?"  Blair turned in
Jim's arms so they were facing each other.  Jim freed one hand to push
the wispy loose curls away from Blair's eyes.

     "I love you."

     "I love you too."
     
     "I think a nap sounds like a great idea.  It was a long flight."

     "The layover and cancellation didn't help.  We should have
been here three hours ago."

     "Shit happens," Jim responded, shrugging as they separated and
made their way back into the sitting room, and then, picking up their
bags, entered the bedroom.  "Wow," Jim commented.  

     A king-sized white metal canopy bed sported filmy white fabric
draped over its framework, surrounding a mound of fluffy white
bedclothes.  Another wall of windows overlooked the bay.

     Jim moved over to the windows and slid one open, letting the
sound and scent of the ocean flow into the room.  The thin, collarless
white shirt he wore with his tan pants hit the nearest chair first, with
Blair taking the cue and pitching his own clothes in a heap with his
lover's.  Stripped to boxers, they turned back the large bed and crawled
in, letting out a shared sigh of relief.  The Cascade airport had been
hectic, with a last minute time change for the flight, then their
connecting flight was late at the next stop over.  Acapulco International
hadn't been too bad, but there were still hordes of tourists, a lot of
noise, and a good number of very vocal children.  Jim's heightened
senses had felt like they were on overload, and the peace of the ocean
sounds and Blair's heartbeat were just what he needed to focus on to
relax.  

     "I didn't know how tired I was," Blair commented, shifting
around so the two men were on their sides, their faces inches apart as
they maneuvered the pillows around until they shared one comfortably.

     "I did," Jim replied, laughing a little.  "Must be old age catching
up with me."

     "You're not old," Blair replied, a little defensively.  "You're
perfect."

     "I am?"

     "Uh-huh.  Perfect for me."  Blair made the minimal effort to rub
noses with Jim, then closed his eyes.  Neither man rallied until the
waiter knocked on the door of the bungalow with dinner.

********

     Blair had taken a few laps around the pool, and now he was
content to sway in the hammock in the shade and watch Jim make full
use of the water.  Jim was a strong, enthusiastic swimmer, and he didn't
get much chance to indulge in that sport in Cascade.  

     Blair sipped at the tropical fruit drink he had been nursing
along for the better part of an hour, then set it on the nearby table and
closed his eyes, letting the warm breeze dance over his skin.  He
wondered how long it would be before Jim came up for air long
enough to notice that he had dispensed with his soaked swimming
trunks and was lying in the hammock by their private pool stark naked. 
Truthfully, he had been enjoying the relaxation, the complete
hedonistic pleasure of lying naked in the shade, his cock happily
dozing with him and not inordinately interested in much beyond
experiencing the fresh air.

     Jim finally came up out of the pool, thoroughly invigorated if
not a little tired, from his prolonged stint of swimming.  He knew Blair
was napping in the hammock.  He had kept one ear tuned to his lover's
heartbeat even while submerged.  He was totally unprepared for the
sight of a completely nude Blair sleeping in the shade of the trees that
supported the hammock.  He thought of the dozens of nasty stunts he
might have pulled on one of his "buddies" he caught sleeping pool side. 
It was odd, but he had never really enjoyed pulling tricks on Blair, even
before they became lovers.  He had felt protective of the other man
almost immediately, and the thought of doing anything that upset him
or made him feel threatened, even for a moment, had never appealed to
him.  

     Leaning over the oblivious man in the hammock, he began
slowly kissing the sleeping lips, feeling a smile curve them slightly
before they opened in response, tongues meeting and sliding together.

     "Hey there, sleeping beauty."

     "How long have I been out?"  Blair replied lazily, rubbing at his
eyes.

     "Not long.  I've been keeping an ear on you," Jim replied, letting
his hand trail lightly over Blair's thigh.  He grinned as the languid cock
stirred a bit, the speed of its movements not unlike Blair's own sleepy
response.  "You want to sleep a while?"

     "In the immortal words of Bon Jovi, 'I'll sleep when I'm dead.'" 
Blair gave Jim's water-soaked body a decidedly lustful once-over with
his eyes.  As Jim stood there in soaked trunks, water beading and
glistening on the long, muscular legs and the smooth, perfectly sculpted
torso, while eyes whose color rivaled the sparkling blue of the water
locked with Blair's, the younger man quickly abandoned any languid
thoughts of napping.  Noticing Blair's arousal, Jim slid his arms under
his lover's body and pulled him out of the hammock, heading for the
patio door as Blair's arms came around Jim's neck.

     Depositing Blair on the white bedding still rumpled from their
morning lovemaking, Jim stripped off the wet shorts and lowered
himself to blanket the smaller man's body.  

     "You're wet," Blair observed, somewhat breathless.

     "Your powers of observation are sharp as ever, Chief," Jim
replied, enclosing Blair in his arms and nibbling at his lover's throat.

     "What about the bed?"

     "That's what fresh sheets are for."

     "We told the hotel not to send housekeeping out here today,
remember?"

     "So we'll call them back to fix things up while we're at dinner." 
Jim pulled back and smiled lovingly at Blair's somewhat unnerved
expression.  "You don't think they know what we're doing in here all
day without being told?"  Jim sighed, then kissed Blair's lips again,
gently.  "I'm not ashamed of us, and I'm certainly not ashamed of the
fact that we messed up the bed making love.  Furthermore, that's none
of their business.  Quite frankly, for what this place charges per day,
they ought to send someone out with wet cloths to wash us up when
we're done."  

     "Oh, man," Blair responded, laughing.

     "So can we forget about the sheets?"

     "What sheets?"  Blair replied, pulling Jim down for another
prolonged round of kissing.  Blair tore his mouth away and let out a
moan when Jim's hand found the younger man's balls, rolling them
gently and massaging them while the newly freed mouth slid down to
clamp on Blair's neck.

     "I love you, you naked little tease," Jim growled into Blair's ear.

     "Guess I have to pay up now, huh?"

     "Can't put the merchandise out there like that and then hold
back, baby."  Jim smiled as he kissed and nibbled his way from Blair's
shoulder, across his upper chest, then found a hardening nipple to
torment with his lips, tongue and slightly with his teeth.  His hand still
rolled and massaged the velvety sacs.

     "Maybe you should teach me a lesson about teasing you like
that," Blair suggested, his sultry tone only slightly undermined by his
breathlessness.

     "I could just leave you here like this," Jim teased back, smiling
a little wickedly at Blair's horrified expression.  "Gotcha."  With that,
he swooped down on Blair's hardened length, sucking it into his mouth. 
Blair let out a wail of pleasure, legs spreading, breath coming out in
harsh gasps.  It only took a short time for Blair to reach his climax and
spurt his completion into his lover's waiting throat.  When Jim finally
rose from his task, he claimed Blair's mouth in a fiery kiss, letting him
taste himself in Jim's mouth.

     "But you wouldn't do a thing like that, right?"  Blair panted,
smiling up at Jim.

     "Never."  Jim moved aside and reached into the night stand
drawer for the lube.  Blair rolled on his stomach, relaxed, sated and
content.  He only troubled himself to move long enough for Jim to tuck
two pillows under his stomach and one under his chest to make the
angle comfortable.  Adjusting himself to the new position, he spread
his legs again.

     Jim moved into position behind him, wishing his throbbing
arousal would have allowed him more time to admire the view of the
smooth bare back, the curve of the spine and the swell of the two
perfect globes that protected the little opening that was his alone to
explore and possess.

     His alone.  Virgin territory except for Jim.  No one else had
seen Blair exposed this way...no one else had probed his little hole and
stretched it possessed it...  Unbidden memories came washing over
Jim's psyche like a putrid, oozing slime.  Not only did he feel any signs
of his own considerable arousal fizzling, but the thought of entering
Blair that way seemed impossibly brutal.

     "Jim?"  Blair raised up on his elbows and looked over his
shoulder.  "What's wrong, babe?"

     "I can't."  Jim tossed the lube aside and got off the bed, grabbing
his robe and heading for the patio where he dropped into a chair and
stared out at the lush scenery.  Within seconds, a robed Blair joined
him, setting a cold glass of orange juice on the little table between the
chairs.  He took a seat in the other patio chair, not saying anything for
several long seconds.  

     "Bad memories?"  Blair finally asked.

     "Yeah.  Like I haven't had in months.  It was so...vivid...sharp--like it 
used to be when I couldn't...when I couldn't get it up to fuck
you," Jim concluded in a frustrated tone.  Blair didn't take offense at
the phraseology.  It was Jim's anger and self-loathing that were making
him crude, not his feelings about their lovemaking.

     "Any thoughts on what triggered it?"

     "I don't know.  Dammit, Blair, I thought I was over this."

     "Jack said you never really 'get over' something like that--you
learn to live with it and get on with your life, but it doesn't go away.  It
doesn't end."

     "Everything's been normal between us for a long time. 
Reciprocal even.  You weren't even trying to top me when I lost it."

     "I haven't really been a passive participant since the rape. 
Maybe that was it.  I never even thought about it when I did it, but with
my arms and legs spread out that way--"

     "The position was too fucking similar to...to what they did with
me," Jim finished the sentence, then ran a hand over his face, and took
another drink of the juice.

     "I wasn't moving around, participating.  I was just lying there. 
Maybe that's what did it.  What triggered it."

     "That still means I'm not normal sexually.  It's not like I was
planning on being rough or anything.  I just got thinking that I was the
only person who ever saw you like that--who ever touched you there."

     "Jim," Blair began, setting his drink aside and moving to the
other chair to sit on Jim's lap, "what happened to you had nothing to do
with sex, or consent, or offering yourself.  It had to do with an act of
brutality--it was just another method of torture for those bastards." 
Blair hesitated.  

     "You want to ask me something else, sweetheart?"

     "Do you think any of them got off on it?"

     "I didn't smell anybody's else's come, if that's what you're
asking."

     "I didn't know exactly how to phrase it."

     "In the rare moments when I could think, I wanted to know if
they were getting off on it.  If they were enjoying themselves--maybe
find some reason why they were doing it.  I didn't smell it.  I smelled
maybe one guy's arousal.  Some people get worked up at the sight of
anybody else's naked ass, I guess."

     "This is going to sound like a real bizarre analogy, but stick
with me, okay?"

     "I usually do," Jim responded, kissing Blair's cheek.

     "Does it bother you that I have an annual physical?"

     "Why would it?"

     "Does it make you feel uneasy?"

     "It would make me feel uneasy if you didn't."

     "Jim, part of a doctor's exam is checking your testicles and your
prostate.  My doctor doesn't get off on touching me that way, but he
still does it, every year.  It serves a purpose.  That doesn't make us less
exclusive or count as my 'offering myself' to someone else because the
same touches that would be erotic in the right setting are just a means
to an end in that setting.  Believe me, they are *so* not erotic in *that*
setting," Blair concluded, shaking his head a little.  "What I'm driving
at is that when those bastards attacked you, touching you there, that
way, was just a means to an end.  It wasn't erotic, it wasn't sexual, it
sure as hell had nothing to do with lovemaking.  It was as goal-oriented
and impersonal as a physical, only its purpose was to inflict pain, not to
evaluate health.  That doesn't minimize the anguish it caused you, but it
also doesn't make us any less exclusive than we were before it
happened.  It doesn't make you 'used merchandise' or reflect on the fact
that you never *offered yourself* to anyone but me.  You never liked it
with anyone but me."

     "I guess I can't put it in the league with my annual physical.  I
didn't freak out and run out of the doctor's office.  I dealt with it."

     "I know you did.  And I'm never saying it *is* in the league with
your annual physical.  I'm saying that just the physical act of someone
touching you there doesn't mean it's not my exclusive privilege
anymore to touch you *sexually* there.  To...to *pleasure* you that
way."

     "So it doesn't ever occur to you when things are reversed that
you're moving into used territory?"

     "Never.  It occurs to me sometimes that you were hurt that way,
that I want to make it extra good for you because of what happened...so
good that you'll only feel the good feelings associated with making
love.  Most of the time it just occurs to me that I love you with all my
heart, forever, and that we're making love.  Well, and generally
speaking, the fact I'm usually looking forward to getting some figures
into it too," Blair added, grinning, and Jim laughed out loud, hugging
him.

     "That's my Blair."

     "Why don't we get dressed and go out for a really nice dinner,
huh?  I hear the hotel restaurant here is really beautiful."

     "Maybe a moonlight walk on the beach?"

     "Sounds perfect."

     "Blair, I'm sorry about earlier.  About getting you ready and just
leaving you there."

     "I came so hard a little while ago that I think I used up the
supply for today.  Don't worry about it.  We can fool around later if you
want to.  If not, we can just get a good night's sleep before we make the
drive to Taxco tomorrow.  We've got lots of sightseeing to do there."

     "And reservations at that Inn."

     "Can we afford this?  I mean, with me taking the semester off
and everything--"

     "We can afford it, baby.  Don't worry about it."

     "But this place is so perfect--and it's gotta be costing you a
fortune, and then tomorrow night, we're actually staying over in Taxco
but keeping this room--"

     "Are you having a good time?"

     "Are you nuts?  Of course I am.  This is great!"

     "So am I.  So it's worth it.  When the bill comes, we just have to
each select a healthy organ we can sell on the black market, and we'll
be all set."

     "I can tell you which one I'm *not* letting you sell," Blair
responded, grinning and sliding off Jim's lap.  He wasn't fast enough to
avoid the firm swat on the butt from his lover. 

********

     Dinner was an elegant experience, eaten on a terrace
overlooking the Acapulco Bay.  Jim's earlier gloom seemed to lift as
the two men consumed the meal of assorted seafood.

     "This city really has a fascinating history," Blair said, sipping
his wine.  "It used to be an Indian village in the 1500's, and then Cortes
turned it into a shipbuilding center.  See, his men discovered the
mining opportunities in Taxco, and then things sort of snowballed.  I
read that Sir Francis Drake--the pirate?  He might have hidden some
treasure here."

     "You've been doing a little research for this trip, huh, Chief?" 
Jim asked, smiling at the way that some things never changed.  Blair's
almost encyclopedic brain was one of those things.

     "I just figured that when I saw something historical, I wanted to
know the story behind it.  Actually, it wasn't until the 40s and 50s that
Acapulco really started to take off as a resort area."

     "So what's the big story on Taxco?  I know there are a lot of old
buildings you want to photograph, but besides that."

     "Well, like I said, it started out as a mining town, but in 1930,
an American named William Spratling discovered--well, I guess you
could say, *re-discovered* it, got the mines up and running again.  He's
the one who set up the silver smithing shop and taught the local
artisans to work with silver."  Blair paused to eat a little more.  "There
are so many beautiful places to see there, Jim.  The Church of Santa
Prisca, for one."

     "That's the one with the blue and pink tiles?  I can't wait to see
that one myself."  Jim smiled a little as he just sat there and soaked up
Blair's contagious enthusiasm.  

     "Actually, it has blue tile domes and pink walls, and two 130-foot Baroque
 towers.  Man!  I can't wait to see it."

     "I'm surprised you never came here before, Chief."

     "I guess I got turned off by the commercialism.  Looks like I've
been overlooking a lot of historical stuff here.  Oh, yeah--and there's
the Convento de San Bernardino de Sena.  It's a sixteenth century
Franciscan monastery where they drew up Mexico's Revolutionary Plan
of Iguala.  And that's another place we have to stop--Iguala."

     "Iguana, huh?"  Jim needled, keeping his face straight as he
took another drink of wine.

     "Igua-LA, Jim," Blair corrected, right before the other man
looked up, and the tell-tale twitch of his jaw gave him away.  "I walked
right into that one, didn't I?"

     "Head first, baby."  Jim laughed and returned to eating.

********

     The sapphire water scurried up on the white sands, then
retreated again, just missing the bare feet of the two men walking hand
in hand along the shoreline.  The moon highlighted the waves and lit
their path.

     "What're you thinking about?"  Blair asked quietly, having been
walking for the last few minutes in silence with the man next to him.

     "That I'd like to freeze this vacation in time.  Never go back."

     "You'd get bored just lying around the pool."  Blair smiled up at
him affectionately.  "You know you would."

     "Bored?  With you?  I don't think so."  Jim pulled Blair's hand
up and planted a kiss on the back of it before lowering their joined
hands again.  

     "You feeling okay about things?  You know, about earlier?"

     "Yeah, pretty much.  You missed your calling, sweetheart.  You
should have been a shrink."

     "Well, it would just mean re-doing about six years of
coursework.  You don't mind, do you?"

     "You can be a student the rest of your life if that's what you
want to do, baby.  Anything you want that I have a prayer of getting for
you is yours, you know that."

     "You spoil me."

     "I know.  It's probably my favorite thing to do--well, maybe
second favorite."

     "You're just plying me with offers of your vast wealth so you
can plunder my virtue later," Blair responded indignantly.  Jim
laughed, and Blair joined him.  

     "If I could, I'd buy you Taxco.  And the ocean, and anything else
you wanted."

     "The only thing I want from you is this--us together.  I want
your forever, Jim.  That's all."

     "I love you, Blair," Jim said quietly, stopping and turning to
take both Blair's hands in his.  He released one long enough to reach up
and loosen Blair's hair from its confines, letting the ocean breeze toy
with it.  "You already have my forever, sweetheart.  From the first time
I saw you, you had my heart, even if I didn't know it."  He slid his
hands into Blair's hair and pulled him in for a prolonged kiss.  When
they parted, Blair took a hold of Jim's hands again.  

     "I love you, mine."  He reached up to stroke the strong jaw.  "I
love the way you love me.  Nobody's ever loved me like you do."

     "Same here, angel."

     "Think we should call it a night?"  Blair asked.

     "Yeah.  Let's go mess up some more sheets."  Jim flopped an
arm over his lover's shoulders as the other man laughed, and they made
their way back to their rented car.

********

     The trip to Iguala and Taxco were a blur of historical sights and
Blair's ongoing narrative.  Blair had always been a pretty fair picture-taker, 
but he'd been taking more and more of an interest in
photography, ironically fueled by his task of taking photos on a number
of Jim's stakeouts while the detective had a more active role to play. 
The Catedral de Santa Prisca was all Blair had promised it would be,
and the camera captured the structure from every possible angle.  Blair
discovered amidst his brochures information on the Chapel of Senor
Chavarietta, which boasted a 17th century crucifix.

     While Blair added to his swelling photo library, Jim wandered
about inside the church, reliving a few memories of his youth.  While
he hadn't exactly attended a church considered an historic landmark,
nor did he have the inspiration of Baroque architecture or 17th century
crucifixes, he could remember very clearly attending church with his
father and Stephen.  Even then, it had seemed like something to be
done for appearances, and God was one of many things that simply
rounded out William Ellison's image as a member of the respectable
upper class.  

     Jim ran his hand along the wood of one of the old pews.  There
were times he wondered about religion, about God, about the role of all
of it in a person's life beyond the appearance of going to Church on
Sunday because that's what respectable people did.  Where did the God
of his childhood fit in with shamans and spirit guides and sentinels? 
And yet, why couldn't He fit into that world?  Who gave the gift of
sentinel abilities?  Who allowed manifestations of spirit guides?  Who
sent him Blair at precisely the moment he needed him the most?

     Blair paused in his flurry of photography when he noticed that
Jim had slipped away from the little cluster of tourists.  It took him a
moment to locate the solitary figure that knelt on one of the kneelers on
the far side of the church, away from the noise and movement of the
church's visitors.  Blair had never given much thought to Jim's religion,
because organized religions held very little lure for Blair.  The very
Church Jim was raised to believe in would have condemned their
whole relationship as sin and depravity.  The host of rules and
regulations imposed on followers' lives by any organized religion was
something that trampled the individual freedom of choice and
conscience that Blair so firmly believed anyone deserved.  

     Jim's moment of prayer, contemplation, whatever it actually
was turned out to be very brief.  He rose, making the Sign of the Cross
as flawlessly and effortlessly as if he did it every day.  Before he turned
to see Blair's eyes drilling holes in his back, the younger man turned his
attention back to ogling the architecture.

     The two men stopped for a lunch of pizza and beer, Blair's
concession to Jim for spending the day receiving an almost mind-num
bing history lesson.  After all, he still had to deal with Blair's
boundless enthusiasm over an upcoming visit to the Museo de
Argueologia Guillermo Spratling, a local museum of indigenous and
contemporary arts.  Last but not least, they still had to troll for silver
jewelry souvenirs for Naomi, and Jim figured one or two for Blair
himself.  Of course Blair wouldn't leave without picking up something
for each of the girls in the lab, Rhonda, Mrs. Benjamin, their elderly
neighbor, and the list rolled on.

     By the time their day of snapping photos and wandering the
twisting cobblestone streets of Taxco drew to a close, both men were
more than ready to check into their local hotel and shower and change
for dinner.

     The hotel they had chosen was a colonial mansion converted
into tourist lodgings.  Jim had reserved the best room in the place,
wanting to be sure they had not only nice accommodations, but their
own private bath.  

     The room was as charming as they both hoped, with an
excellent view of the historic city, a large ceiling fan and what
appeared to be an antique carved wood bed, adorned with a rich, deep
red bedspread.  The bathroom facilities were blessedly modern, and by
unspoken consent, they dispensed with their sweaty, well-used tourist
clothing and climbed under the spray of the shower together, soaping
and washing each other, dispelling the grime of the warm day of
sightseeing.  Jim took his time shampooing the long curls that had been
fastened securely all day, and when the job was finished and he was
guiding Blair under the stream for the rinse, he couldn't help watching
a little trail of sudsy water slither down Blair's smooth, water-sheened
back to the seam of his buttocks.

     "Want you," he whispered hotly in Blair's ear, molding himself
to the other man's back.  His growing erection nudged at Blair's spine.

     "Oh, yeah," Blair replied, obviously pleased with the
suggestion.  He let Jim position him on his hands and knees in the tub,
facing away from the spray of water.  One, two, then three soapy
fingers carefully stretched and prepared him until they began coyly
tormenting his prostate.  "Jim...Oh, man...come on, I want you in
there," Blair panted, thrusting his rear back toward his lover.

     "Hang on, baby," Jim responded, withdrawing his fingers and
replacing them with his own soap-slick cock.  Sheathing himself in one
smooth stroke, he reached under Blair and found the velvety sacs there,
massaging them and then sliding his hand up to the erect shaft.

     "Oh, God, Jim, please...move...harder..."

     Jim didn't respond in words.  His actions spoke for themselves
as he started a series of strong, firm thrusts into the eager, waiting body
beneath him.  

     "Love you," he gasped, planting a kiss on Blair's back as he
rocked inside him, feeling his own climax building.  He picked up the
pace and force of his movements, dragging shameless screams of
pleasure out of Blair as his prostate was massaged by the passionate
intruder.  One shrill outcry of Jim's name signaled Blair's orgasm, just
as the clenching of his muscles communicated it clearly to Jim's own
hungry body.  Jim's completion came with a strangled cry of Blair's
name.  He barely managed to brace himself on the tub to avoid pushing
Blair down hard into the unforgiving porcelain.

     "That was *so* good," Blair gasped, finding himself wishing
the intense pleasure could have lasted forever.

     "Stay there, baby.  I'll clean you up."    Jim planted another kiss
on Blair's back as he moved away, cursing a little at the coolness of the
water.  He washed Blair with a soapy cloth and rinsed him, startling the
younger man with a little licking kiss to his washed center before
moving away to clean himself and let Blair straighten his position.
     
     "Maybe we should just forget dinner."

     "I thought you wanted to eat up at Monte Taxco tonight."  Jim
referred to the posh resort that was just a cable car ride away.

     "Yeah, I do," Blair responded, almost disappointedly as they got
out of the shower.  
     
     "We'll have a great dinner and then come back here and make a
little history of our own in that antique bed.  Sound good?"

     "Sounds perfect," Blair replied, grinning up at Jim as they
toweled off.

     "Think you'll have enough film for tomorrow?"  Jim referred to
the tour of Las Grutas de Cacahuamilpa, the nearby caves that sported
massive stalactites and stalagmites, plus any other last minute
shutterbug activity that might overcome Blair as they left the
picturesque town.

     Dinner was a delicious experience as the two of them indulged
in the dinner buffet served overlooking the city as the rosy glow of
sunset blanketed the historic structures.  Jim had opted for a pale blue
shirt and white pants while Blair wore a pair of tan pants and a colorful
handwoven shirt sporting various shades of tan and green from one of
the stands in Acapulco.

     "I still don't picture Simon wearing that vest you picked out for
him, Chief."

     "It's not gaudy or anything.  Just shades of brown with a little
orange through it to give it some life.  Have you seen the way he's been
dressing lately?  Does the phrase 'stuffed shirt' mean anything to you?"

     "That doesn't mean he wants to loosen up his image,
sweetheart."

     "He'll love it.  You'll see.  It'll remind him to lighten up a little."

     "In that case, it'll be worth it.  You think you got Naomi stocked
up on enough silver jewelry?"  Jim asked, smiling affectionately.  

     "Yeah.  And don't forget that amethyst ring I found in Iguala."

     "I think it'll cost more to insure the package than it did to come
here."

     "What package?  I want her to come and visit so she can see all
the pictures.  I don't know if she's been to Acapulco yet or not."

     "I thought she had been everywhere."

     "Well, yeah.  I don't recall her mentioning this though.  If not,
we should come back--you know, get a group together and show our
friends around."

     "Getting a little stir crazy stuck here with just me all this time?"

     "No!"  Blair protested immediately, then relaxed a little at Jim's
smile.  

     "I was kidding, sweetheart.  I think that sounds like fun."

     "I was starting to think we weren't going to get a honeymoon for
a while there.  But this one was sure worth the wait."

     "You're right, Chief.  This was a good idea."

     "The churches were really something, weren't they?"

     "Beautiful.  I can't wait to see how all those photos turned out."

     "Probably doesn't look too much like the church you went to
when you were a kid, huh?"

     "Not really," Jim replied, laughing a little.  "But it still
reminded me."  Figuring Blair had noticed his brief moment of prayer
in the church, Jim didn't make him work too hard to open the subject. 
"I still think about it sometimes.  But I haven't really found a niche, you
know?  I mean, according to the whole Catholic doctrine, I'm on the
outside because I'm divorced, and really on the outside having a male
lover.  So I can't see myself following a religion that calls us a sin."

     "I've never really found the right one either."  Blair pushed his
food around a bit with his fork.  "I'm still looking.  Maybe there isn't an
organized religion out there for me.  Maybe I just have to believe, and
know there's a higher power up there, and let it go at that."

     "If you ever find one, let me know, huh?"

     "Yeah, I will.  I'll let the world know.  But you know, every
time I think I've found a belief system or a religion that I can really get
into, I run into something I just can't swallow.  Or something that
doesn't wash with my ideas about whatever deity is running the show."

     "You'd have a better base of knowledge to work from on that
one than I would.  I know how I was raised, but you know, even then, it
was more a thing we did on Sunday morning than anything meaningful
in our lives.  I think quite a few of my dad's business associates took
their families to Church on Sunday, so it was a good idea for us to go
too, sometimes out to breakfast someplace expensive afterwards--where 
of course, we ran into a few of the right people."

     "I'm surprised your dad didn't remarry.  He would have been a
real catch--wealthy, successful, good-looking--and there aren't many
single men around in the late 30s or early 40s who are available.  I
would think he'd have been beating the women away with a club."

     "That's precisely what he did.  One marriage seemed to be more
than enough for him.  He was married to his work.  It wouldn't have
worked out if he had remarried.  In a way, I guess it's just as well he
didn't.  It would have been harder on Stephen to get attached to another
mother figure and then have her torn away a couple years later."

     "Stephen?  What about you?"

     "He was younger."

     "Jim, that doesn't make you any less susceptible to being hurt by
something when you were little--just because Stephen was younger."

     "Well," Jim took a sip of his wine, "he was my little brother,
and I looked out for him.  I guess I just thought in those terms."

     "So who took care of you?"

     "I did," Jim replied simply, returning to his meal, then looking
back up at the sadness that reply seemed to bring to Blair's eyes.  "That
is until you showed up."  He reached across the table and took Blair's
hand, returning the smile that threatened to split the other man's face in
half.  "It took me a while to get used to having someone around,
someone looking out for me.  Once I did, it didn't take any time at all
for me to get spoiled rotten by it."

     "I wish we'd known each other sooner--as kids or something."

     "The timetable would have been a little difficult, Chief," Jim
responded, smiling.  He also thought of the nerdy little friend with the
big glasses he'd found one summer, then abandoned to stay with the
vapid in-crowd of rich boys and jocks he generally ran around with. 
Would he have known enough to hold onto Blair back then if he'd been
around?  Probably not.

     "It's just...you know, every kid should have someone who takes
care of them.  Who loves them.  I mean, Naomi moved around a lot,
and she had a lot of boyfriends and a busy social life and everything,
but I never wondered about whether or not she loved me.  I didn't give
her much to go to as a mom--you know, I wasn't a star jock or anything. 
But when I got older, I started winning some essay contests, academic
things.  She was always there for everything."

     "I think our timing was perfect, sweetheart.  I probably would
have pulled the same stunt on you I did on Toby."

     "Toby?"

     "Yeah."  Jim squeezed Blair's hand a little and they both
returned to the task of eating.  "He was a new kid in my neighborhood
the summer before the sixth grade.  Stephen was old enough to have a
few friends of his own, so once summer started, he sometimes took off
with them.  But I always made him tell me where he was going.  I
mean, Sally checked up on both of us, but Stephen was my
responsibility as far as I was concerned.  Anyhow, Toby's family
moved in sometime near Memorial Day, and it was too late for him to
start school, since we were only a few days away from being out for the
summer.  So I didn't meet him until mid-June sometime.  He came
down the street and introduced himself.  He was a skinny little science
nerd," Jim recalled, smiling.

     "Sounds familiar," Blair replied, laughing with him.

     "He was the best friend I ever had--til I met you.  We did
everything together.  He wasn't very good at sports, but he'd try
anything once, and he was fascinating--he knew something about
everything.  And the thing was, that was the summer after everything
happened with Bud and the murders...I wasn't really the same after that. 
I hadn't thought much about it until now, but my interest in just
screwing around and doing the stupid things kids do...it sort of waned a
little.  I think something...died inside after the murders, and I don't just
mean my sentinel abilities.  Seeing a murder victim when you're ten
years old leaves you...I don't know.  Grim might be a good word. 
Serious, maybe?"

     "When did your abilities go away?  Right away after finding
Bud?"

     "No.  Right after the argument with my dad.  I guess.  I wasn't
trying to use them, but I could still hear everything he said to the cops
at the scene, everything the cops were saying to each other, I could still
focus on something way beyond normal range.  It all seemed normal to
me, because I was always able to do it.  I guess when I realized it was
all mine to deal with alone...that I was a freak of nature--that I wasn't
just somebody who had great eyesight and sharp hearing and a good
sniffer...  I didn't keep track of it, but I know I don't remember ever
picking up on anything more than anyone else did from that point on,
until I went to Peru, and my survival--and the tribe's--depended on it."

     "You aren't a freak of nature, Jim.  You *are* gifted."

     "I know that now.  But I couldn't fight the freak label when I
was a kid.  But we were talking about Toby here, not me."
     
     "I like talking about you.  You don't do it too often."

     "Probably because I know all of it and it's boring."

     "Not to me."

     "So Toby was the only real friend I hung out with that summer. 
We took walks, sometimes nature walks--and he showed off his vast
knowledge of plants and trees and birds and bugs or whatever.  We
went bike-riding.  He could keep his bike upright, so that was one thing
he managed to do without half killing himself," Jim recalled, laughing. 
"He didn't mind that I was quiet, and when there was a part of the
woods I wouldn't go near, he didn't call me a chicken or make a big
thing out of it.  I never told him about Bud.  I couldn't bring it up.  It
was a big job stuffing it in the back of my mind.  It was like opening a
jack-in-the-box to let it out.  How do you stuff it back in again?"  Jim
sighed.  "I'm getting side-tracked."

     "Did your other friends give you a hard time?"

     "Most of them didn't know anything about it, and what little
they ever did know were just rumors.  Ironically though, my time of
being one of the gang didn't really last all that long.  I was still good in
sports, which kept me kind of hanging on the fringe of the in-crowd,
and made me popular with the girls, but I didn't have the personality or
the patience to be a crowd-pleaser anymore.  The stupid shit they did
for entertainment annoyed me more than anything else.  I mean, how
exciting is it to toilet-paper trees and egg windows on Halloween?  And
what's the point?  I started looking at all the stunts they pulled as just so
much stupid shit I didn't have time for."

     "I only toilet-papered one tree in my life, and Naomi just about
skinned me alive when she found out."

     "This sounds like a story I should hear."

     "Well, I was fourteen, and I almost never got asked to go along
on anything with the so-called 'in crowd'.  But a bunch of boys from my
high school class decided to toilet paper the trees around the principal's
house for suspending one of their friends.  Looking back, I think they
were setting me up to take the fall, because I was the only one who got
caught, and I was the one they picked out to do the big oak tree closest
to the house.  I ended up face to face with Mr. Woolworth--I was in his
tree and he was looking out the bedroom window," Blair recounted,
laughing a little at the memory, which hadn't been so funny at the time.

     "So they all split while you were having this moment of eye
contact with Woolworth?"

     "Uh huh.  They left their supplies, and most of the trees in his
yard were messed up at that point.  So it looked like I did the whole
thing.  I was so scared, I almost pissed my pants.  He was a real hard
ass, and I had no clue what he was gonna do when I finally came down
out of the tree.  He stood down there and waited, hands on hips.  I was
sure he was going to beat the shit out of me."

     "He didn't, I take it?"

     "I think the only reason he didn't was because he knew that the
school board wouldn't tolerate it, since corporal punishment was
against the rules by then at our school, and he knew Naomi would kill
him if he laid a hand on me.  He had met her a few times at parents'
functions, and he knew we were close, and she was heavily anti-violence.  
So if any parent would have come down on him for swatting
their kid, it would have been her."

     "So what happened?"

     "I got out of the tree and he basically lectured me on what a
degenerate I was and how I was wasting my time engaging in this kind
of juvenile behavior, and so on and so on and so on.  Made me wish I
*had* papered his whole fucking yard.  He was such a dick.  He
wouldn't even listen to my side.  I mean, why would I do that by
myself?  I was *glad* he suspended the creep--it was one of the guys
that used to push me around all the time."

     "The other jerks never got caught?"

     "If I named names, they would have had me for lunch.  So I
took the rap because just saying that 'some other kids' were in on it with
me, or that it was their idea, didn't hold much water without pointing a
finger at who they were.  I never saw Naomi that mad."  Blair shook his
head.  "I thought she'd probably laugh the whole thing off.  Then, when
I could see she was really pissed, I thought she'd let me off the hook
because I was peer-pressured into it.  I knew all the right terminology
even then.  The bottom line with her was respect for others.  She said
what I did showed disrespect for another person's property, peace of
mind and personal space.  That even if on some cosmic level,
Woolworth deserved it, it wasn't up to me to do it.  She said his rotten
Karma would catch up to him sooner or later."

     "What did she do about it?"

     "Well, I lost a really fine set of concert tickets for that weekend,
and I ended up cleaning up the yard, and writing a letter of apology to
Mr. Woolworth.  It sucked, big time.  I didn't get to see REO
Speedwagon until they toured again two years later--and then I had
nosebleed seats.  I was so pissed off I couldn't see straight."

     "Sounds like you were just trying to fit in with the other kids."

     "Yeah, I was.  But her point was that doing something wrong
just to be one of the gang is still wrong.  And she was so big on
respecting others.  I mean, if I'd gotten drunk or something, she
probably would have bawled me out or lectured me a little, but she
most likely wouldn't have punished me for it.  But if I'd gotten drunk
and then driven somewhere, for example, she'd have gone ballistic. 
One is an individual choice to behave irresponsibly, and the other is a
choice to share the outcomes of that behavior with other people who
haven't had the chance to make that free choice for themselves.  You
risk their lives without their consent through your own irresponsibility. 
And she felt the same way about papering the trees.  His trees, his yard,
his space, and therefore, I had no right to vandalize it.  If I'd drawn a
picture of him with horns and a tail, she'd have defended me all the
way, because that would have been my freedom of expression, and it
wouldn't have hurt anyone."

     "My dad would have just grounded me for a month and had me
scrubbing the spokes on his tires with a toothbrush or something.  I
think our punishment system at home was a lot easier to reason
through."

     "Everything had a meaning with Naomi.  She didn't believe in a
lot of rules, but she believed in being a good citizen of the world
community, so to speak, and that involved respecting each other and
not doing malicious things to people or their property."  Blair frowned. 
"A toothbrush?"

     "I was kidding, Chief," Jim replied, laughing.  "He wasn't that
much of a jerk.  Close, but not quite."

     "We got side-tracked off the Toby thing."

     "Well, I spent the summer with Toby--we were running around
somewhere just about every day.  Sometimes Stephen and a couple of
his friends tagged along, but usually it was just us.  When school
started in the fall, it all...fell apart."

     "He went somewhere else?"

     "That would have made things very simple, actually.  We'd
probably still be friends now.  No, we started out going to the same
school, and riding the bus together.  The other kids went after him big
time because he was a textbook nerd.  Truthfully, I didn't have the
strength to fight the battle for him.  Looking back on it now...I was so
hard on myself for backing down, when I thought about it later, but
now, remembering what had happened the previous fall, with finding
Bud and the whole business with the murders and my sentinel abilities
and my dad...there were days, even as a kid, that I felt like I was on the
edge.  And so when they all started harassing Toby and making fun of
him and excluding him, I didn't last long sticking up for him.  Pretty
soon I just let it happen, put some distance between us on the bus and
basically threw him to the wolves."

     "You weren't yourself at that point, Jim.  You had been
traumatized by what happened with Bud, and then with the way your
dad reacted to things...I think it's incredible you got through all of it as
well as you did without...well, without turning out to be some kind of
psycho yourself."

     "I felt so guilty about Toby...I still do, to some extent.  But now
I know I wasn't capable of fighting too many battles at that point."  Jim
sighed.  "So finally Toby switched schools--right about Thanksgiving
time.  He went to St. Mary's, which was a Catholic private school with
a really great reputation.  They had a high school too, and I think he
must have just gone on through there.  I never saw much of him again. 
I couldn't really go to him and apologize, because I didn't plan to
change my behavior any.  So the most I ever saw of him was by
accident, on the street once in a while, or in a store, or at the mall--stuff
like that.  He'd wave, or sometimes say hi, but it was over."

     "Did you ever think about contacting him again?"

     "No."

     "Why not?  Jim, if he knew what was wrong, that something
bad had happened to you, and that you would have done things
differently if you'd felt better about things...it might mean a lot to him." 

     "Blair, he's my age now, probably with a successful career and a
family and a life of his own.  I'm sure he doesn't need me popping up
and apologizing for something he doesn't even remember too well."

     "Trust me, he remembers.  And it would still matter."

     "Sounds like the voice of experience."

     "I wasn't exactly captain of the football team in high school, and
in grade school, it was all I could do to remember not to write my name
on my papers as 'Four Eyes Sandburg'--or the more informal version--'Runt'. 
Kids are mean as hell, man.  Most of the time you let it go
because it's not worth getting worked up about.  But sometimes
someone you trust...someone you thought was your friend...  Well, I
just think that Toby would probably like to hear from you someday."

     "Some jerk did to you want I did to Toby, huh?"

     "Sort of.  It was a little different.  This girl I really liked?  We
were in the seventh grade, and I got all A's most of the time.  She was
having trouble in math--but I didn't really know that at the start.  But
she started being really nice to me, walking to classes with me, the
usual stuff you do that passes for having a girlfriend when you're
twelve."  Blair smiled slightly.  "Then she asked for help with her math. 
That was okay.  I helped.  Then she wanted to sit next to me on test
days.  Said she was nervous, could we sit together.  Okay, I bought that. 
She was cheating off my tests.  Next thing I knew she needed help on
her English homework, and pretty soon she was wheedling me into
writing papers for her."

     "Nice girl."

     "Yeah, she was a sweetheart."  Blair rolled his eyes.  "And I was
a sucker.  She was popular, really pretty."

     "So what made you wise up?"

     "I overheard her talking to one of her friends, and they were
laughing about me and how she was getting me to do all this stuff. 
And she made some remark about what a dork I was..."  Blair shook his
head.  "That hurt."

     "Did you ever confront her?"

     "Yeah.  I told her I knew what she was up to and that the
Sandburg homework service was officially out of business.  She tried
to tell me that she was sorry, that she hadn't meant what she said, that
some of her friends had been teasing her about having a boyfriend and
she was just trying to get them off her back."

     "You didn't buy that?"

     "I figured, if I got hurt once it was her fault.  If I got it twice, I'd
only have myself to blame.  So I told her to forget it.  She was running
around with her 'cool friends' the next day and she never said anymore
about it."  Blair took a sip of his wine.  "I was devastated.  I talked real
tough to her but then I went home to my mom and cried for an hour."

     "Naomi probably sent her poisonous vibes for that."

     "Naomi's exact words were, 'she's a cruel, selfish person, and
her own bad karma is going to come back and bite her on the butt when
she least expects it'."

     "So if she called you right now, it would mean something?"

     "If she could honestly say, as an adult, truthfully, that she really
did care something about me then, or that we *were* friends, and she
just couldn't hold up her part of the bargain under the peer pressure,
yeah, it probably would.  See, after that, I never trusted anybody very
much.  I figured they were only nice to me for what I could do for
them.  Even when we first got together, I figured you were only being
nice to me because you needed my help.  It was a real shocker to find
out you were being nice to me because you wanted me for a friend."

     "A friend, a lover, a life partner, that's all," Jim added, smiling
and taking a hold of Blair's hand again.  "Maybe I'll do a little checking
and see if I can find Toby."

     
     "Might put one of your old demons to sleep, once and for all."

     "I guess what started all this was that I'm glad I met you when I
was smart enough to appreciate your friendship, instead of when I was
an empty-headed pre-adolescent fruitcake."

     "Maybe our timing was perfect," Blair responded, lacing his
fingers with Jim's.

********

     The next day was spent touring the caves, taking more photos
and after grabbing a snack at a small restaurant, heading back to
Acapulco for a little down time in their own private paradise.  They
indulged in a moonlight swim, making love on the patio under the
stars, and finally ordering a late meal from the hotel, which they ate on
the patio, sitting naked on a beach towel, feeding each other.  It wasn't
until Jim snickered a little that Blair broke what had been a peaceful
silence.

     "What?"  He was grinning back.

     "Well, I was just thinking back on my honeymoon with
Carolyn--"

     "If I were a woman, you'd probably be in deep shit right now,
man," Blair replied, laughing.  "Go ahead."

     "I don't mean it that way," Jim explained, smiling at his own
tasteless reply.  "If I had suggested we eat dinner naked, she would
have thought I was some kind of pervert and probably divorced me
before the cruise ship docked."

     "Did it occur to you to eat dinner naked with Carolyn?"

     "Actually, no.  It never would have," Jim replied honestly.  
     
     "This is like some kind of paradise.  I guess that's why I like
doing all the things we'd never chance doing anywhere in Cascade.  I
mean, how many chances would we have to sit on a beach towel stark
naked in the moonlight and eat dinner?"

     "Unless we wanted to die of exposure or be arrested, not too
many."

     "So what are we gonna do tomorrow?"
     
     "Fish."

     "Cool!  I knew you were going to get us on a boat or something
one of the days.  I couldn't remember which one it was."

     "Try our own boat and small crew for the day."

     "Our own boat?"  Blair's eyes were saucers.

     "I'm not sharing you with anybody on this trip," Jim responded,
leaning over and kissing Blair's startled mouth.

     "But...I mean, isn't that really expen--" He was cut off by a
gentle hand over his mouth.

     "Don't worry about it."  Jim moved his hand and kissed Blair
again.  "This is the trip we're going to talk about when we're old and
gray and arthritic and don't have the energy to do more than dotter
along the beach in heavy sweaters with our walkers."

     "I want to get that old with you," Blair replied quietly.  "I want
us to have a long time together, but I don't want you to go first.  I know
that's selfish, but I don't."

     "I think we're both selfish the same way about that, Chief.  But I
wouldn't lose too much sleep over it.  I'm healthy as a horse and I'm not
going anywhere anytime soon."

     "Not unless I can go too," Blair responded, scooting over to
duck under the arm that came around his shoulders.

     "Life's supposed to begin after ten o'clock at night around here. 
What do you say we do the fishing thing tomorrow, come back here
and take a nap--I mean an honest to God sleeping nap--" Jim clarified
at Blair's lecherous waggle of eyebrows, "and then go out for a late
dinner and hit the discos."

     "That would be *so* cool!  I didn't think you'd want to do that. 
I mean, they're crowded and noisy, and I figured they'd get on your
nerves with your hearing and everything."

     "Maybe they will.  But you can't really go to Acapulco and not
hit a few nightspots."

     "Is it getting a little chilly out here?"  Blair asked, shivering a
bit.  The night air was beginning to cool down.

     "Yeah, a little."  Jim moved away a moment and snatched their
robes off the end of the chaise lounger where they'd been discarded,
wrapping Blair up in his before pulling on his own.  "Better?"

     "Lots."

     "I could probably come up with a better way to warm you up," 
Jim whispered in his lover's ear.

     "Think so, huh?"

     "I'm sure of it."  Jim started nibbling at the ear.  "'Course you'll
have to take the robe off again."

     "Drat," Blair replied, feigning annoyance.  He smiled as the
fabric was pulled back off his shoulders while a series of wet, sucking
kisses trailed down his neck and over his shoulders.  The hot mouth
paused in a few spots to leave small passion marks in their wake,
finally sliding Blair's robe all the way off his body again, bringing a
little chortle from the smaller man.  

     Strong hands reached around the front of Blair as Jim sat
behind him, his long legs stretching out on either side of the other
man's hips.  Fingers pinched and teased Blair's nipples to hardness,
tangled in the soft curls of chest hair, and crept downward toward the
rapidly hardening shaft waiting in its own little nest of curls.

     Blair's head dropped back on Jim's shoulder, exposing his throat
as he expelled little moans of pleasure at the work Jim's hands were
doing.  That graceful curve of throat was more than Jim could resist,
and he added the wet, sucking attentions of his mouth to the
ministrations of his hands.

     In a move that took Jim completely by surprise, his languid
lover twisted around and pounced on him, pushing them back on the
towel, opening Jim's robe and fastening his mouth on a taut nipple.  

     "Nice sneak attack, baby," Jim responded through a little laugh
that was soon cut off with a moan of pleasure.  His hands came up and
tangled in Blair's silky hair, his hips moving upward to find Blair's rigid
shaft.

     "Want you, lover... You want me?"  Blair gasped against Jim's
mouth, then claimed it in a prolonged kiss.

     "Oh yeah," Jim responded, his legs spreading at the suggestion.

     Blair fumbled in the pocket of his discarded robe and found the
lube, which made Jim laugh out loud.

     "Now that's being prepared, Chief."

     "You never know when you might be presented with something
important that needs lubing," Blair replied, moving between Jim's
spread legs, bent at the knees with feet planted on the towel-covered
cement.  He raised his knees to his chest, opening himself completely. 
"You want me right away, babe?  You want me inside you?"  Blair
whispered in a low, husky voice.  The rigid shaft straining out of Jim's
groin was enough of an answer, but the other man grunted something
affirmative.  "Love you, mine," Blair said softly, lowering his head to
lick at the exposed flesh, running his tongue slowly up and down Jim's
perineum and finally making a tentative dart into his center.  

     With Jim writhing in pleasure, Blair continued the work of his
tongue, thoroughly claiming his lover with his mouth before drawing
back and coating his fingers with the lube.  He kissed and nipped at
Jim's thighs while his fingers worked at stretching the tight ring of
muscle.  Finally venturing in to brush Jim's prostate, he drew a shriek
of pleasure out of his lover.

     "Blair, come on, Chief...  You're killin' me here," Jim managed.

     "Hold on, lover.  I'm gonna take good care of you, babe."  Blair
coated himself with the lube and slid slowly but steadily into the
hungry heat of Jim's pulsing passage.  When he was fully sheathed,
Jim's legs came to rest over his shoulders.

     "God, Blair...  Move...   Fuck me," came the plea from Jim that
Blair hadn't heard since before Jim left him to enter the life of J.J.
Rush.  They had experienced some great sex, and Blair had topped
successfully on several occasions now, but it had always been tentative
and as gentle and hesitant as the first time.  Now Jim was fully opened,
fully impaled, loving every minute of it and in the mood for something
a little more frenzied and carnal than Blair's usual gentle approach.

     "Feels so good inside you," Blair gasped, starting to pump in
and out in long, firm strokes.  "Ugh...Oh, man, it's good..."  Blair
groaned, thrusting faster, taking Jim more thoroughly than he had in
over a year.

     Jim's head was thrown back, his face a mask of intensity with
the pleasure of Blair's movements.  Each thrust dragged a grunt of
pleasure from the pit of his soul, until he found himself constantly
goading Blair to move faster, pump harder.  When the younger man
remembered to grasp Jim's weeping cock and stroke it in tempo with
their sex, Jim let out a screamed order to Blair to make him come.  The
other man obliged, angling his strokes to hit Jim's prostate over and
over, cutting loose and thoroughly enjoying taking what he wanted,
delirious with the pleasure of having his way with Jim and being asked
to do it at the same time.

     Jim's muscles contracted sharply around Blair's cock as he cried
out and spurted his completion over Blair's hand and chest.  The
clenching muscles were Blair's undoing, his raw, primal shout of
pleasure accompanying an orgasm that tore through him like white
lightning.

     He suddenly became aware of the substantial weight of Jim's
long legs hooked over his shoulders as he shuddered his way through
the aftershocks.  Jim moved, releasing his lover from his burden,
feeling Blair's withdrawal with a little discomfort, but considering it
well worth it.  He gathered the sweaty, sated body in his arms and
pulled one of the robes over Blair's damp back as his body became
Jim's warm, hairy blanket.

     "You okay, baby?"  Jim had a smile in his voice as he stroked
Blair's back and listened to the thundering of his heart.

     "Am I--?  I oughtta ask you."

     "I'm great," Jim replied, complete with a sappy smile.

     "Did I hurt you?"

     "Uh-uh.  I'll be looking for a padded seat on the boat tomorrow,
but it was worth it, baby."

     "That felt *so* good," Blair admitted, his heartbeat quieting
now.

     "I'll second that."

     "Think we ought to go inside and clean up?"

     "Pool's heated."  Jim kissed Blair's forehead.  

     "Yeah, but I think maybe a little soap would be nice.  And a
long soak in the tub?"

     "Sounds great."

     After taking a languid, warm bath together, they crawled into
bed, fully sated and sleepy.  As Blair lay with his head on Jim's
shoulder, enclosed in the strong arms, Jim's voice stopped him from
tumbling over the abyss into sleep.

     "That first day we met, when you asked me the eavesdrop on
those girls you liked?"

     "What?"

     "You remember, when you wanted to know what that cute
blonde thought of you?"

     "Oh!  Okay, I remember now.  What about it?"

     "Well," Jim began, thinking again of the pain Blair had gone
through as a child at overhearing two girls laughing at him and calling
him a dork, "I lied."

     "What?"

     "I lied.  She thought you were gorgeous and if you had asked
her out, she would have gone."

     "So she didn't say I was a dork?"

     "No."

     "Why'd you tell me she said that?"

     "I was in a pissy mood, I guess.  It was a shitty thing to do.  I'm
sorry, Blair.  I just wanted you to know.  Plus, now it's safe for me to
tell you because she probably graduated and moved to another state by
now."

     "Probably," Blair replied, laughing.  Both men were quiet a few
minutes.  "Thanks for telling me."

     "I thought it might still matter a little."

     "It's nice to know."

     "Goodnight, angel.  Sleep tight."

     "'night, lover."  Blair nestled down into Jim's arms and within
moments, both men were sleeping soundly.

********

     The next day passed pleasantly on their private fishing boat.  It
was a relaxing change of pace from the sightseeing of the last couple of
days, and the show put on by some jumping dolphins who leapt in
perfect arcs over the sapphire waters was a highlight of their day.  The
major highlight was Jim's prize catch, a five foot long striped marlin. 
When they docked again, Blair took as many pictures of Jim with his
fish as he'd taken of the most stunning historic landmarks.

     After heading back to their bungalow to shower and change,
they re-joined the bustle of Acapulco for a taste of the nightlife. 
Dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe was followed by a cruise of the local
nightspots.  The first disco they visited was too crowded and noisy even
for Blair's tastes, and unbearable for Jim.  The second one was
somewhat better, and featured a glass wall with a view of the bay. 
Finding themselves a booth after scoping it out until the couple
occupying it finally left, they settled in and watched the action.  The
music was good, the crowd was noisy but seemed to be a fairly nice
group of young to early-middle aged adults.  Still, there was something
a bit flat about the experience.

     "You want to dance?"  Jim finally asked, not sounding wholly
excited about the concept.  He wasn't really interested in dancing that
involved standing opposite the person he was with and essentially
wiggling in place.  There wasn't room on the dancefloor for much else.

     "Not really," Blair answered honestly.  "Too crowded."

     "Music's not bad."

     "No, it's great," Blair shouted over said music.  "Is this
bothering you yet?"  Blair gestured around their environment.

     "Not really," Jim responded, trying to sound light-hearted.  Blair
shot him a knowing look.  "Okay, it's a little bit loud and the crowd's
getting to me, but I can deal with it, Chief."

     "Uh, Jim?"  Blair hesitated as the other man focused his
attention on him.  "I, uh, heard about this place that's, uh, not too far
from here."

     "Better than this one?"

     "It's a gay nightclub."  Blair waited for the explosion.  None
came.

     "How'd you hear about it?"

     "I did a little 'net surfing before we left."

     "Why should I have known that answer?"  Jim laughed a little
affectionately.

     "Well, it's supposed to be nice.  They have dancing on the
rooftop...  It might be fun."

     "You mean to dance together without being stared at like the
local circus attraction?"

     "Yeah," Blair replied, laughing a little sadly.

     "Let's go."  Jim started to slide out of the booth, and Blair was
right behind him.  

     The nightclub Blair had discovered was called simply "La Playa
Blanca", and featured an all white stucco exterior, and an interior decor
that was predominantly white.  Inside the club, things were a bit
chaotic, with the antics of a male stripper keeping the crowd
entertained.  Once they ascended the stairs and joined the more tranquil
rooftop crowd, it was a whole different world.  The beach was visible
through the trees, male couples dined at small tables, and a few danced
to the soft strains of acoustic and flamenco guitars.

     After ordering a bottle of wine, settling at a table and taking in
the atmosphere for a while, they took advantage of the dancefloor. 
While there were other couples there, all were male, no one was
staring, and it was not overly crowded.  

     "You're leading," Blair said softly as he rested his head on Jim's
shoulder, perfectly content to be led anywhere by this particular man.

     "That okay with you, sweetheart?"  Jim asked, pulling Blair
close against him.

     "You wanna lead later, too?"  Blair's tone was almost dreamy.

     "If you don't mind following," Jim replied, kissing the top of
Blair's head.

     "I'll always follow you."

     "Blair, someday things are going to be like this for us all the
time--I have to believe there's going to be a time when we don't have to
be a sideshow for a bunch of homophobic jerks every time we want to
dance together or hold hands or do any of the things couples are
supposed to be able to do together in public."

     "I hope it comes in our lifetime."  Blair moved back enough so
he could see Jim's face, though they still swayed slightly to the music. 
"What we have is so...beautiful.  I think what hurts so much is that
everyone else sees it as something ugly.  I don't care if they stare.  I
just...sometimes I hate subjecting what we have that's so beautiful to
their sick interpretations of it."

     "Me too, baby.  Me too.  If I could change things, I would.  I
hate that I can't give you that--that world where we can be ourselves
and do it quietly without being poster boys for something."

     "Well, we're not anybody's poster boys now," Blair said, settling
happily back against Jim with a contented sigh.  "I wish this night
would last forever."

     "It'll last the rest of our lives, sweetheart.  Nobody can touch
what we feel, and they can't take away all the beautiful moments we
can have, just the two of us.  And if you want to work at kicking down
the taboos in Cascade, we'll go out dancing in all the best clubs and
drive the homophobes nuts."

     "I thought that's what I wanted," Blair responded softly, his
arms tightening around Jim.  "It was so important to me to thumb my
nose at society, to make them acknowledge us."

     "And now?"

     "Now I just want to live our life together in peace.  If we can
help make a stride or a difference along the way, that's great.  But I
don't want to waste all our time together proving something to some
narrow-minded assholes who aren't going to ever really change the way
they feel about things, even if the law mandates it at some point.  I
want to enjoy what we have, all the things we *can* have together...
maybe, truthfully, all I needed to know is that you'd do that for me. 
You know, throw *us* in everyone's face.  How petty is that?"

     "Seems pretty understandable since I was the one who didn't
want to come out in the first place.  I know that hurt you at the
beginning."
     
     "I understood it, in my head.  It was my heart I had some
problems with."   Blair paused.  "But it's not like you ever cheated on
me or denied me or anything.  And I hate it when people manipulate
each other--make a lover jump through hoops to prove something.  I
hate myself for making you do that."

     "You didn't *make* me do anything, Chief."

     "Maybe not, but I still have to admit that it was something I
needed from you.  To know that you'd go *really* public."

     "Nobody wants to feel like a dirty secret, sweetheart.  I never
had to go that route because you didn't want to hide anything from
anyone at the U, or from your mom or your friends--you were up front
from the start.  So I never had to feel like you were ashamed of me or
embarrassed to admit we were sleeping together.  But I didn't exactly
make you feel like I was proud of you--of us--at the start.  Not until
everything crashed down on us last year--that gave me the kick in the
ass I needed.  When I saw what kind of assholes I was really pleasing
by staying in the closet, it suddenly became a hell of a lot less
important to do it."  Jim squeezed Blair more tightly in his arms. 
"When Walker and his goons grabbed you and took you to Corman's
people--shit, I came so close to losing you...horribly...it all fell into
perspective."

     "I just want you to know that I know how hard it was for you to
have to come out with me--to go public.  There isn't a day that goes by
that I'm not grateful for that--that I don't love you more and more for
the way you've treated me, the way you've stood up for *us*."

     "This thing of dancing together in public is nice, but I think I'd
rather have a little privacy with you right now.  How about it,
sweetheart?  Ready to call it a night?"

     "And what a night it's been, too," Blair replied, grinning and
stepping back so they could return to their table, pay their bill and head
back to the bungalow.

     The trip through the sitting room to the bedroom was merely a
progression of clothing loss for both men.  Shirts, pants, socks and
shoes were left like a trail of bread crumbs leading to the bed where
they fell together, hands and mouths frantically exploring and caressing
each other's bodies.  

     Some little voice in Jim's mind said something about slow and
romantic, but it was drowned out by Blair's own sense of urgency, and
the overwhelming response of Jim's body to that hunger.  

     Lips and tongue traveled over Blair's throat, shoulders and
chest, leaving several large splotches on the slightly sun-bronzed skin. 
Jim lingered tantalizingly over each nipple, sucking and nipping at it
until Blair was screaming his name and arching up against him, his
cock at full hardness.  Blair finally wriggled away a bit and moved up
on all fours on the bed, spreading his legs and thrusting his ass in the
air.  

     Instead of springing for the lube, Jim surprised his lover by
attacking the exposed flesh with his mouth, dragging his tongue up
Blair's perineum and then darting in and out of his center.  

     "J-im...Oh, God...want you...please?"

     "In a minute, baby," Jim responded, grinning a little evilly as he
prolonged Blair's sweet torture, sliding over on his back and relaxing
under Blair's rigid cock and taut balls, sucking one of the ovals into his
mouth.

     "G-od, Jim, I c-can't hold it...much...longer..."

     "Hold onto it, baby.  You're not gonna come now."  Jim went
back to his ministrations, losing himself in the intimate taste of his
lover, until he heard a strained whimper from Blair.  Taking mercy, he
moved up and reached for the lube, quickly coating himself and then
preparing Blair, who in his current frenzied state was as ready as he'd
ever be.

     He slid into Blair's tight passage in one long stroke, and then
began pumping, dragging himself most of the way out and then all the
way back inside, the strokes hitting Blair's prostate and moving his
entire body as he clung to the headboard with white knuckles.  

     "Harder!  Ugh...ugh...hard...so good...ugh..."  Blair gave up on
words, unable to form coherent thoughts anyway as the thundering of
his heart filled his own ears.  The rest of his body was focused on the
vigorous workout Jim was giving him, a pleasure so intense it teetered
on the edge of pain but wasn't pain.  He wanted it to stop and to keep
going, to ease off and to get harder, to slow and to be more rapid.  He
settled for a pained groan of ecstasy to express himself, and Jim
changed his angle and tempo a bit, managing to somehow go even
deeper.  

     Jim was grunting now in time with his thrusts, one hand
milking Blair's shaft, spurred on by Blair's own cries and shouts of
pleasure as the smaller man's body stiffened, his muscles clenched and
he shot his climax out over Jim's hand and the bedclothes.  Jim's own
pinnacle was reached at almost the same instant, and he filled Blair's
willing body, following his lover flat onto the bed in an exhausted heap
of damp flesh.

     The two of them lay there a moment, panting and trying to
recover.  Jim moved onto his elbows to give Blair a little more oxygen,
and pulled the soft curls aside that were plastered against Blair's neck
and upper back.

     "You're growing your hair out longer," Jim said softly, kissing
the exposed neck.

     "You said you liked it that way," Blair replied in a whisper, as if
speaking out loud would break the magic of the moment.

     "I do.  I've always loved your hair, you know that, angel."  Jim
found a large passion mark and began to lick it soothingly, then did the
same with the smaller mark next to it.  Blair just purred under him. 
"Did I hurt you?"

     "Do you ever?"  Blair asked, looking over his shoulder with a
sleepy, sated smile.

     "I try not to, baby."  Jim moved up the side of Blair's neck with
his lips, until he stropped an earlobe with his tongue.  Blair moved
away a little, giggling.  Jim rarely heard that particular sound out of
Blair, so he couldn't resist trying it again.  And again.

     "Jim!"  It was laughing exasperation.

     "Sorry, sweetheart.  I just don't hear you giggle too often."

     "I didn't giggle."

     "Oh, right.  Sorry.  You emitted an abbreviated, highly-pitched
expression of mirth.  Is that better?"  Jim teased, going after the earlobe
again.

     "Okay, I give up already," Blair responded, emitting the
contested giggle again.  Satisfied, Jim laughed softly and moved back
to his oral exploration of Blair's face, neck and shoulders, finding and
soothing the marks he'd left there earlier.  While Blair relaxed under
the ministrations, Jim carefully withdrew from Blair's body, figuring
the other man might be a little tender after their frantic union.  "Sore?"
     
     "What do you think?"  Blair responded, smiling over his
shoulder at Jim.  

     "I think padded seats for you tomorrow," he responded, patting
Blair's bottom as he moved off the bed.  

     "Where are you going?"

     "Just to get a washcloth and some lotion.  Be right back."

     Jim made good on his promise, returning moments later with
his supplies.  Blair spread his legs as he lay on his stomach on the bed,
head pillowed on his folded arms.   Jim ignored the twitch in his cock
at the sight.  Telling himself that he was supposed to be sated
completely after just riding Blair like a bucking bronco, he climbed
back on the bed.

     "Turn over first, baby.  You're going to be stuck there in the
morning if you don't."  Jim waited while Blair grumbled a little, but
complied.   Jim began his washing of Blair's stomach and groin area,
smiling at the little contented noises coming from his drowsy lover.  "I
brought a towel for the wet spot."  Jim put the towel over the infamous
splotch, and Blair turned over on his stomach, pillowing his head on
his folded arms, spreading his legs wide apart again.

     "Feels good," Blair sighed as Jim gently cleaned him, then dried
him.  

     "This'll feel even better."  Jim carefully soothed Blair's center
with the cool cream, smiling at the sighs and wriggles that signaled
Blair's pleasure, though it seemed quite asexual by then.  He finished
and then planted a kiss on one rounded buttock.  After dispensing with
his supplies, he climbed back into bed with his lover and gathered the
pliant body into his arms.

     "Thanks, lover," Blair whispered, his eyes drifting shut as his
head rested against Jim's chest.

     "My pleasure."  Jim slid his hand into the tousled curls and
kissed Blair's forehead.  He felt a leg hook over his as Blair settled in
for the night.

     "Our pleasure," Blair corrected, smiling.

     "I love you, Blair."

     "I love you too, mine."

********

     The next day was spent lounging on Barra Vieja, a quiet beach
about sixteen miles east of Acapulco.  The desk clerk at their hotel had
suggested it as a less crowded alternative to the packed beaches in the
main resort area.  The beach was certainly far from deserted, but it
wasn't difficult for the two men to find a spot that, while in view of
other beach goers, was somewhat their own.

     "My butt's going to be white and funny-looking the more tan I
get," Blair opined as he massaged suntan oil onto the impressive
expanse of Jim's back as he lay contentedly on his stomach on a large
beach towel.

     "You think mine is going to miraculously tan the same color as
the rest of me?"  Jim asked, smiling a little.

     "We could go back to the bungalow and do this naked."

     "Blair, we're in Acapulco.  You don't go to Acapulco and not go
to the beach.  Or parasailing," Jim mumbled.

     "What?"  It was a question loaded with more dread that
curiosity.  Blair knew exactly what Jim was suggesting, and it sent icy
fingers of terror down his spine.  He couldn't conjure too many pictures
more frightening than being hooked up to a speeding boat and a
parachute, sailing through the sky over the water without benefit of an
aircraft.  Leave it to Jim.

     "You don't want to try it?"

     "What do you think?"

     "I do.  I haven't tried that yet.  I thought we could do it later. 
There's always a little surfing. I was thinking tomorrow maybe we
could find out where the best waves are--"

     "You don't mind if I bring along a good book and stay on solid
ground, do you?"

     "I could teach you to surf."

     "I could drown, too, but that doesn't mean I want to do it."

     "You wouldn't drown, sweetheart.  I wouldn't let anything
happen to you."

     "Tell me that after I fall of the board about the tenth time."

     "Okay.  You sit on the beach and watch and *I'll* go surfing
tomorrow."

     "Fair enough.  All done," Blair capped the suntan lotion and
stretched out on his own towel, on his back.  Jim had taken an indecent
length of time coating Blair's chest and stomach prior to stretching out
himself.

     Several long moments passed until Blair stiffened at the feeling
of something crawling softly up his arm.  Opening frightened eyes, he
discovered that it was a large, five-fingered, flesh-covered creature that
moved like a stealthy tarantula over his shoulder, down his chest and
toward his nipple.  Catching a glimpse at Jim's mischievous smile,
Blair couldn't stop from laughing a little before capturing the intruder
and kissing it thoroughly.  Fingers laced tightly together, the two of
them rested there a while, then shifted positions to avoid burning, went
through the prolonged suntan lotion ritual again with a few detours--Blair 
spending an inordinate amount of time making sure Jim's nipples
were protected and Jim taking the extra precaution of spreading the
lotion high under the legs of Blair's swimming trunks.

     By early afternoon, they threw on old t-shirts and sneakers and
headed for the nearby fast-food restaurant to get a bite to eat.  Jim
found a place to rent an umbrella, since he still planned on trying the
parasailing that was supposed to start in the late afternoon, but neither
man wanted to toast in the sun any longer.  Their plans for the rest of
this trip would be seriously hampered by painful sunburns.

     Jim's foray into the wonderful world of parasailing seemed to
make Blair more nervous than it did Jim, who happily followed the
directions for strapping on the harness and awaited take off with all the
anticipation of a kid at an amusement park.  Blair waited with the
spectators on the shore, watching Jim soaring above the water,
snapping photos to add to their collection.  The wife of the man who
had just completed his trip before Jim seemed to sense Blair's tension
as he watched the whole process.

     "We come here every year on vacation.  Hal loves parasailing. 
Does it several times on every trip."  She smiled as Blair looked down
into her lined face.  She was a small woman, about five feet tall,
probably sixty-five years old, at least.  "First time?"

     "Yeah.  Jim knows how to surf, and he can ride a mean
waverunner, but he's never done this before."

     "How long have you two been together?"  she asked, still
smiling.

     "Huh?"  Blair had tried not to be an obvious "spouse" while they
participated in this particular activity, mainly because there had been a
large group of beer-drinking guys nearby whose ages fell somewhere
between his and Jim's that he really didn't want to have a scene with if
they could avoid it.  He knew Jim wouldn't stand still for any remarks
aimed their way--especially anything derogatory toward Blair--so he'd
kept his cool.

     "Well, the matching rings were sort of a tip-off, honey," she
said gently.  

     "We've been together about four years, married a little over a
year.  We didn't get around to a honeymoon until now," Blair added,
pausing to snap a few pictures of the dot in the sky that was his lover.

     "This is a wonderful place for a honeymoon.  My husband and I
came here when the resorts were first built.  Oh, it was so glamorous! 
You wouldn't believe the stars you could meet here!"

     "I understand it was a real playground for the rich and famous--well, 
it still is, but there are more...regular people like us here now."

     "You don't want to give that a try?"  She gestured toward where
Jim was sailing artfully over the water.

     "Uh-uh.  I have a thing about heights.  I have jumped out of an
airplane before, but not without screaming all the way down."

     "What made you jump out of an airplane if you're afraid of
heights?"  she asked, laughing a little.

     "Jim," Blair responded, more to himself than her.  "It was worth
it."  He realized he'd gotten a bit lost in his thoughts, and turned to her
and smiled.  "We were trying to rescue some friends of ours who had
gotten lost in the jungle, and the only way in was to parachute in.  Jim
was going, so I followed.  Ended up with a lizard in my pants."

     "Oh my God!"  She laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. 
"I imagine you weren't laughing then."

     "Neither was the lizard," Blair quipped, taking another shot of
Jim as the boat was making a return trip, bringing him back toward
shore.  "How long have you and your husband been married?"

     "Forty-five years yesterday.  This is our anniversary trip."

     "That's really romantic."

     "Maybe you and Jim can keep up the tradition for us someday."

     "You'll probably be keeping it up for a long time to come."

     "This is probably our last year."  She took a deep breath.  "My
husband has cancer," she said softly, watching the elderly man in
question buying cold drinks from a stand several yards away.

     "He looks so...vital--healthy," Blair replied, strangely saddened
by the impending death of this man whose wife he'd known for all of
fifteen minutes.

     "We just found out.  It's in his liver.  The doctor didn't
expect...he doesn't have long," she finished in a slightly strained voice. 
"But we've decided to take every moment we can have."  She managed
a smile, and on an impulse, Blair hugged her.  She returned the
pressure briefly, then stepped back.

     "Can't leave you alone for five minutes," her husband joked as
he walked up behind his wife, carrying two cans of Diet Pepsi.

     "Your wife was just congratulating me on getting married,"
Blair lied, smiling.  The older woman smiled back gratefully.

     "The big guy that went up after me, huh?"  He handed his wife
one of the drinks.  

     "I guess we can't be subtle even when we try."

     "Just a good guess," he responded.  "Well, honey, I think we
ought to head back to the hotel.  We're supposed to meet the Grangers
at six, and I want to pick up a few souvenirs for the kids."

     "You're right."  She turned back to Blair.  "I hope that you and
Jim have a very long, happy life together--that you are as happy as
we've been."  She reached out and squeezed his hand briefly, then
turned to walk away with her husband.

     "I don't even know your name.  I'm Blair," he volunteered.

     "Eileen and Mike Richmond," she replied.  "We're staying at the
La Princesa.  Would you and Jim like to meet us for dinner sometime
before you go back?"

     "That'd be great," Blair responded.  

     "Call us.  We'll be here three more days."

     "We will."

     "Nice meeting you, Blair," Mike added, starting them in motion
to leave.

     "Same here."  Blair watched them walk across the sand, sipping
their drinks, hand in hand. //Dammit, but life isn't fair,// he thought. 
And his arms almost ached with the need to wrap themselves around
Jim and never let go. //Jim!// Blair recalled belatedly that he wasn't
capturing all of this on film, and turned back just in time to get Jim's
landing in a series of shots.

     "You really ought to try that, Chief," Jim announced as he
rejoined his lover and the next tourist waited to try the flight.  

     "Can we go back to the bungalow now?"  Blair asked, a little
trace of desperation in his voice.

     "Sure, baby.  What's wrong?"  Jim's face reflected his concern
as he stroked Blair's cheek, then slid an arm over the smaller man's
shoulders as they walked away from the crowd.  Blair's arm fastened
tightly around Jim's waist.

     "I want to be with you.  I mean, really *with* you.  Alone."

     "If my going on this stupid parasailing thing upset you,
sweetheart--"

     "I'll explain later.  It wasn't that."

     "Okay."

     As soon as the two men had dispensed with their beach gear,
Blair launched at Jim, wrapping his arms around the solid middle and
holding on tightly.  Jim's arms came up a bit hesitantly, mainly from his
confusion over Blair's mood.  Feeling the tremor in Blair's breathing
that spoke of barely contained tears, Jim rubbed his lover's back and
kissed the top of his head.

     "What's wrong, baby?  Tell me."

     "The guy who went up before you?  He's dying...and it's their
anniversary, and they're so in love even now...it's just not fair...and I got
thinking how brief everything is...and how your time goes so
fast...sometimes faster when something awful like that happens, and--"

     "Slow down, sweetheart.  It's okay.  I'm right here.  We're both
fine.  We're young, healthy, we've got *years* ahead of us."

     "But it can all get taken away so easily, and last year, it almost
was, and I remember what I felt like all those weeks, and it just all
flooded back when she told me her husband was dying..."

     "It's okay, baby.  If you need to cry, it's okay.  I understand." 
Jim stroked the soft curls as Blair's tears soaked his lover's t-shirt.  "I
will always love you, Blair.  And we'll always be together, one way or
another.  We'll have a very long, happy life together, sweetheart.  I
didn't die last year.  I survived.  I really *survived*."  Jim took a certain
pride in that statement now.  He'd come through his trauma strong,
healthy and able to maintain the wonderful, fulfilling love affair he
planned to have for the rest of his life.

     "I know.  I just...you're older, and sometimes..."

     "Sometimes you're afraid of what's going to happen when I die
and you're left behind."  He felt a nod against his chest.  "It might not
happen that way, sweetheart.  But if it does..."  Jim sighed.  "We handle
the things we have to handle, baby.  The strength to do it comes from
somewhere, and we get through it.  But being afraid of it for a lifetime
is losing that lifetime in a whole lot of fear and grief you might never
have to feel.  Besides, you know I wouldn't ever completely leave my
little guppy, don't you?"  Blair chortled a little at that and nodded. 
"We're bonded, connected.  We always will be, Chief.  Any separation
will only be temporary, and we've survived one of those before.  It'll
just be like me going ahead and, say, setting up a household for us in
another place and sending for you later.  Because as far as I'm
concerned, you're spending eternity with me--so don't start getting any
funny ideas that death is going change anything."

     "I love you so much."

     "I love you too, angel.  What do you say we take a shower and
order some dinner in, huh?"

     "Okay.  Jim?"  Blair pulled back and looked up at his lover,
who used one hand to brush away Blair's tears.

     "What, baby?"

     "Promise me that you'll...be careful, and take care of
yourself...and stay with me as long as you can."

     "If I ever leave you, it'll be against every fiber of my being,
Blair.  I'll fight with my last breath to be with you.  I promise you that
without even a second thought.  And I won't be careless.  The biggest
thing that kept me hanging on when..."  Jim took a deep breath, forcing
himself to face it and say it.  "The thing that kept me hanging on during
the rape was the thought of not leaving you, of not wanting you to
grieve for me.  It was the only reason I *wanted* to survive that."

     "I'm so proud of you, man.  The way you made it through
everything--and then the trial..."  Blair shook his head.  "You're the
strongest person I ever met."

     "I don't know about that.  I think our strength is a joint effort,
baby."  Jim kissed a damp cheek.  

     "I didn't mean to go off like that.  I don't know what got into
me."

     "Last year put a lot of strain on both of us, sweetheart.  We're
going to be picking up the pieces for a while yet."

     "I guess you're right."

********

     The rest of the evening passed quietly, with dinner shared at the
round picnic table on the patio, slow dancing in the moonlight to the
soft music that wafted out from the stereo inside the patio door.  Slow
dancing led to kissing, kissing led to fevered caresses, and soon, Jim
found himself with an armload of clinging Blair.  Fastened at the lips,
arms around each other, Blair's legs wrapped around his hips, Jim
finally reached down and grabbed hold of Blair's ass.  Part of it was
passion, the other part necessity as he carried his partner to bed.  Blair
tended to overestimate Jim's size and underestimate his own, but Jim
still wouldn't have traded the sensations of it for anything.

     They fell somewhat unceremoniously on the bed, happy to have
at least aimed well and ended up on the soft bed instead of the floor. 
Clothing was slowly, lovingly removed, revealed flesh kissed, nibbled
and worshipped.

     Jim turned them so Blair's body blanketed him, never breaking
their kiss.  Their heated arousals aligned, and they rocked together,
enjoying the simple friction and the closeness as they concentrated on
plundering each other's mouths thoroughly.  

     Blair tore his mouth away to call out Jim's name, climaxing just
moments before his lover.  He was a boneless, spent heap of flesh
draped over the large, very comfortable human bed known as Jim
Ellison.   He felt a little movement in the large, muscular body, but let
himself settle down again when all he felt was the sheet being pulled
up to keep Blair's back warm while they slept.

********

     The next two days moved along at a relaxed pace, with a little
more local sightseeing and souvenir-shopping, another morning at the
beach, an impromptu lunch in one of the hotel dining rooms with the
Richmonds as they ran into them on the beach again, and plenty of
time to just relax in their own posh bungalow or make love in the
sunshine or moonlight, with only a few tropical plants watching.

     "I think we're almost packed, Chief," Jim said with a lilt of
accomplishment in his voice.  "You okay, baby?"  He moved Blair
forward in the lounge chair where he sat and fit in behind him,
reclining them both, wrapping his arms around the smaller body.

     "Yeah, I'm fine.  I just don't want to go home.  This has been
like heaven."

     "For me too, angel."  Jim kissed the side of Blair's head and
cuddled him close.  "But unfortunately, duty calls next week."

     "Yeah, I know.  I'm still planning on spending time at the PD
with you.  I'm just taking time off from Rainier."

     "Think you'll be ready to get rolling on the dissertation again by
the Fall Semester?"

     "Probably.  I don't feel too motivated right now, but I probably
will.  You know me.  Can't stay idle for too long.  Besides, I don't think
I'd make a good housewife."

     "You're kind of a slob."

     "You didn't have to agree with me," Blair responded, laughing. 
"But then I should have expected that from Mr. Color-Coded
Tupperware."

     "Ooooh.  Low blow."  Jim laughed, leaning back and closing his
eyes.

     "You know what I was thinking?"

     "What?"  Jim let his hand idly stroke across Blair's chest as they
reclined there.

     "We have time for one more moonlight skinny dip."  Blair
shifted a little so he could look back over his shoulder.  "What do you
think?"

     Minutes later, clothes in a heap by the pool, the two men stood
in the shallow end, water up to their chests, moonlight kissing the still
water and bathing both of them in its odd white glow.  Long moments
were spent just kissing, exploring each other's mouths and feeling the
press of flesh against flesh.  Hands skimmed over wet skin, slid
possessively into dry hair.  Each man reaching for his lover's hardness,
they pumped and stroked one another at a slow pace, drawing out the
pleasure and the intimacy.  They climaxed almost simultaneously,
broken cries mingling in the stillness of the night.

     Jim caught his sagging partner and moved them to a ledge
where they could sit, still submerged, and catch their breath.  

     "Jim?"

     "What, sweetheart?"

     "How are we paying for this trip?"
     
     "What made you think of that now?"  Jim asked, kissing Blair's
forehead and pulling him closer.

     "I'm not working right now, and I know we're okay, but we're
not rich--and this place--you won't even let me see the bills for most of
this stuff."

     "When I bought the truck, I paid cash for it.  No loan from the
bank.  I used the money I got from the insurance on the Expedition.  So
instead of making a car payment every month, I put it in the bank for us
to take a nice trip somewhere.  Then we got married, so it became the
'honeymoon fund'."

     "Was that enough for this?"

     "Well, no, but since I don't have the truck loan, and I've been
setting aside payments anyway--"

     "You took out a loan?"

     "Yup.  And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  It was worth every
penny."

     "Wow."

     "Is that good or bad?"

     "That's...I don't know what to say.  That was such a...beautiful
thing to do."  Blair moved back enough to look into Jim's eyes, and
stroked his lover's face with a wet hand.  "I love you so much.  And you
just keep getting...better."

     "I do, huh?"  Jim smiled, catching the hand in his and kissing it.

     "I'm serious.  You just go and do something ten times more
wonderful than I ever thought possible.  And I end up loving you more,
which is something I *never* think is possible.  But then it happens."

     "Blair, for the rest of our lives, I want to make you happy.  You
know I'd give you the world if I could.  This was sort of like, well,
buying you paradise I guess."

     "You don't get it, do you?"  Blair smiled up at his lover.  "You
gave me everything the day you promised me forever.  Anyplace I'm
with you is paradise. *You're* my paradise, mine."

     Any further talk was silenced, as Jim occupied Blair's mouth
with prolonged, breath-stealing kisses in the soft light of the Acapulco
moon.

********