Title: Hidden Weaknesses
Author/pseudonym: Owlet
Email address: whitford@wam.umd.edu
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: J/B
Notes: Well, this is my last hurrah for the summer--I hope you like it,
this is literally an eleventh-hour work in some ways. Huge, wonderful
thanks go to MegaRed for inspiration, enouragement, comments, and
beta-reading, and and the lady of shalott for a priceless last-minute
beta, and for the lady of shalott, saraid, and mcvey all forming a
"post, Owlet, post" chant in #senslash as I wrote this. :) Thanks guys!
Summary: nope. You're going to have to read it. :)
Warnings: It's inspired by MegaRed, she of "Night Train" and "Deep
Water." If you don't like tickling, run, run like the wind!
Hidden Weaknesses by Owlet
Jim was *not* going to pass up such a golden opportunity as this, he
thought, with all the confidence that came from being the man's best
friend, Guide, and shadow for nearly three years. Maybe he could put him
off with something tonight, but eventually Jim would want to know. And,
for a guy who was almost forty, and whose reputation as a hard-ass was
damn-near universal, Jim had the most oddball, boyish sense of humor
Blair had ever seen. Not too many got to see it, but it definitely
existed. It wasn't really practical joking, not quite verbal
roughhousing, not even anything really *embarrassing,* per se, just the
sort of teasing and wordplay that few would suspect dwelled beneath his
intimidating exterior.
Blair sometimes thought he was a godsend for the otherwise reserved
detective, giving him an outlet for his more playful side.
Of course, there were also things a guy just did not want his roommate
to know…oh well. With a wry, amused sense of resignation, he turned off
the ignition and got out. There were also times when it was easier to
attack than try and run. And he didn't really think Jim was going to
make fun of him over this. Not really.
But boy, was he going to get a kick out of it.
Jim was watching a game when he came in, the Jags playing the
Mariners—from the time, it would be about the middle of the third
quarter, and from the frenzied cheering, the Jags seemed to be winning.
For a moment Blair thought he might get away with it, and then Jim cast
him a quick, concerned look and muted the sound.
"Sandburg, you okay? You're home early."
Blair nodded, trying to look casual, coming to stand by the couch by
Jim's side and striving for nonchalance. "Yeah, Jim, I'm fine, just, you
know…" He stopped, aware that he babbling, and that Jim's look of
concern was giving way to amusement and interest. /Oh, damn./
"What happened, Chief? Shelly throw you out?" Jim's look of amusement
deepened at the flush Blair could feel spreading across his cheeks.
"No, nothing like that. I, uh, just…ah, hell." He dropped onto the couch
with a sigh and a grimace. "Sorry, it's just that…I really don't want to
talk about it."
The concern was back, and a large, warm hand landed on his shoulder,
squeezing gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push. What happened?" The
question was asked in a curious, mild tone, and Blair shrugged.
"Nothing. I mean, to me it was nothing, but I guess it must have been a
big deal to her—anyway. I…" He was blushing again, and tried not to meet
Jim's worried eyes.
"Just tell me this much, Chief—you need help with the body?" He couldn't
tell if Jim was joking or not.
"No! No, it's nothing like that, it's just that—we didn't click, that's
all."
Jim gave him a blatantly disbelieving look. "Uh huh. Sure. This *is* the
woman you've been trying to ask out for three weeks? The "hottest TA in
the Anth department," right?" And, after just one date, you decide you
just don't click? Sandburg, I don't mean this badly or anything, but
usually it takes you a lot longer than that to figure that out." Jim
smirked. "I mean, look at Sam--you still haven't figured it out."
Blair punched Jim in the ribs lightly and glared. "Hey!" Jim just looked
at him, relentless and inexorable. Blair shrugged and gave up. "I'm
ticklish."
Jim gave him a blank look that said plainly, /So?/ "You want to run that
one by me again, partner?"
Blair growled under his breath, and gave Jim a disgruntled look. "Hey,
man, you asked, I answered. She threw me out because I was too
ticklish."
Oh, damn, that look was back. The playful, bright-eyed, almost
predatory, Let's-Get-Blair Look that boded badly for his immediate
future. Blair began to plot escape routes.
"Because you're *ticklish?* Why would she do that? And how would she
know, anyway?"
Blair got up and began to pace, not daring to look at Jim and the gleam
in those blue eyes that he knew was there. "Well, we were at her
apartment, and we'd just gotten back from the restaurant and we were on
the couch—cuddling, you know? So I'm, you know, kissing her and she
slides her hand up my shirt, and…stop laughing, Jim." He glared at his
roommate, currently snickering into his hand. "It isn't funny. Anyway.
She's sliding her hand up my shirt, and she touches my ribs—you know,
*just* hard enough to be felt, *just* light enough so that it tickles?
Well, she does that, and…I'm warning you, Jim…"
Jim shook his head, obviously struggling valiantly for his usual stony
face. Blair came to a halt in front of Jim and gave him another couple
of minutes to compose himself, accepting that Jim was going to lose it
with this next part, and that if he wasn't completely calm beforehand he
might hurt himself laughing. When he felt Jim was as calm as he was
going to get, he went on.
"Anyway, so she's tickling me—doesn't have a clue that's what she's
doing—and I go straight up in the air. She practically has to peel me
off the ceiling. I never thought to tell her that I was…" Blair gave up.
Jim was laughing outright now, almost falling off the couch from it. He
grabbed a pillow and tried to muffle his laughter, and Blair groaned and
reached to pull it away. "No, don't worry about sparing my feelings, I'm
not sure I have any left. Anyway, that's kind of my reaction, too, so I
guess it's all right. So Shelly decides she isn't crazy about going out
with a guy who falls apart with laughter every time she tries to feel
him up—" a particularly loud guffaw earned Jim a whack on the head with
his confiscated pillow, "—and so she very politely helped me up and
handed me my coat and showed me out."
Jim slowly recovered, wiping his eyes, chuckling. "Jesus, Chief, I
thought I was supposed to be the sensitive one. You can get ticklish in
the middle of that? Must make things interesting for your dates."
There was a gleam in his eye that made Blair nervous, but he shrugged it
off, coming back to sit down now that the hardest part was over. "Well,
I've always been ticklish, even when I was a little kid—Naomi and I used
to have these great tickle fights when I was younger, since she's almost
as ticklish as I am. And when you think about it, that…moment is more
conducive to being ticklish than almost any other—you're relaxed, you're
exposed, adrenaline and hormones and everything making you even more
sensitive than usual, and…"
"Spare me the lecture, Chief," Jim interrupted, eyes alight with an
impish mischief. "I can guess." He shook his head. "I still don't
believe you're that ticklish. Hell, *I'm* not that ticklish, and I'm the
Sentinel here—in case you forgot." He grinned as he teased his roommate,
and Blair rolled his eyes.
"Come on, what do I have to do, prove it to you?" He froze in alarm as
Jim's grin grew, if anything, wider. "Oh, no. No way, man, I am *not*
going to just sit here and let you tickle me. Are you insane?"
Jim shrugged innocently. "Well, you're the one who always wants proof of
everything. Besides—" and here his grin grew downright predatory, "—this
might be useful information. Maybe we can work on some exercises for you
to control it, for the next time some maniac decides to kidnap you—can't
have you freaking out on me, Chief."
/Oh, damn./ Jim was never going to let him live this down—Blair
Sandburg, grad student, scientist, friend, roommate, and Guide, being
ticklish as all hell. /I'll never be able to sleep peacefully again,/ he
reflected ruefully. /Maybe I can fool him—who are you kidding? He's a
Sentinel, he's going to know something's up. But maybe you can throw him
off his stride and pretend long enough…might be fun, anyway. Make him
work for his kicks./
With a frustrated glare he didn't entirely mean, Blair sighed
explosively and threw his arms up. "All right, all right! I'll prove it
to you." In a single move he stripped off his red velour pullover and
sat back against the covers, daring Jim with his eyes. "Okay, man. Do
your worst."
Jim looked startled--/the bluffer just got his bluff called,/ Blair
thought smugly, as he leaned back and stretched his arms across the back
of the couch, leaving himself totally vulnerable. Then Jim's expression
changed, and Blair tensed nervously, cursing the idiocy that had caused
him to make this challenge. /Oh, man,/ he thought, as Jim's eyes lit up,
/I must be out of my mind./
Jim moved smoothly off the couch, pushing the coffeetable out of the way
and crouching on the floor in front of him. "Better access," he
explained to his now-apprehensive partner, smirking at Blair's tense
shifting. /Oh, shit,/ Blair thought to himself, /I've really done it
now. They're never going to find the body…/ He braced himself just in
time--as Jim pounced.
Blair felt himself pinned to the couch, Jim using his weight to
shameless advantage. He reached out to stroke lightly over his lightly
furred stomach. The touch was weightless, at first doing nothing more
than ruffling the soft hair, long slow sweeps that never quite touched
the skin but made him suck in his breath. /Keep calm, keep calm./ Jim
eyed him carefully, but he gave him a deliberately nonchalant smile, and
stretched. /Yeah, that's me, Mr. Cool./
Then Jim changed his tactics.
The first Blair knew of the change was when he saw the look in Jim's
eyes—smug, triumphant. Then he felt it, faint but unmistakable, a
delicate, deliberate scrape of Jim's index finger nail from his sternum
to his waistband, detouring around his belly button to slide smoothly
downwards. The sensation was maddening—so airy he could barely feel it,
but sharp and distinct enough to make his sensitive skin flinch and his
muscles tighten. He tried to clamp down on his reaction as Jim carefully
repeated the move, then began elaborating, trailing the nail in aimless
patterns over his stomach and ribcage.
He scratched very, very lightly at Blair's lowermost ribs, and Blair
jerked as sensitive skin tried to shudder away from the inflaming touch
and found itself trapped between diabolical fingers and unyielding bone,
unable to escape. Unable to help himself he gasped softly and gritted
his teeth to keep his expression neutral as Jim gave him a wicked look.
Oh god. /Jesus, he's killing me./
The finger left his ribs and traveled downward, and Jim's other hand
came up to join it as it centered and came to rest at his navel. For a
moment they didn't move, and Blair felt himself tensing up even more in
anticipation.
When they did move, it was a complete surprise, Jim fanning both his
hands out to sweep along Blair's stomach, letting the contours of
Blair's skin and muscle guide his fingers to where the most sensitive
places were, along the side of his stomach where his the ridges of his
abs met the smoother sheets of muscle of his back. For a long, endless
time Blair fought to keep his breathing steady as Jim seemed to search
out every single sensitive spot and devote the full measure of attention
to it. He stroked with the pads of his fingers, one or two or three at a
time, whisper-light or slightly harder. He grazed the junctions where
muscle met muscle with his nails, painstakingly careful never to press
too hard—and driving him out of his mind.
Again.
And again.
Until Blair looked down, and saw the hidden smirk on Jim's handsome
face, and it all came clear. /He knows what I'm trying to do--he knows
I'm faking!/ With that his tenuous control broke, and he doubled over.
Laughing helplessly, he swore as he tried to push Jim's hands away.
"Okay, okay, I give! You win, I'm ticklish, I was trying to fool you.
Uncle!"
Jim sat back on his heels and watched with obvious satisfaction as Blair
relaxed, his laughs tapering off until he was slumped back against the
back of the couch again, arms wrapped around his stomach. Then he made a
lightning-fast grab, pulled, and pushed, and Blair found himself
stretched out full length on the couch, Jim kneeling on the floor beside
him and holding his arms above his head. He grinned, a predator who
finally had his prey exactly where he wanted him.
/What the--oh, damn./
"Sandburg, if you think I'm going to let you go that easily, you're out
of your mind." And with that his free hand slowly crept back to Blair's
tummy, resting on his belly button. The fingers lay lightly, flexing in
subtle, ceaseless movements that refused to let Blair's tense,
shuddering body relax. The warmth seeped into his skin, striking against
the relative cool of the room, and Blair shivered, partly from cold,
partly from nerves, and partly from the wild and bewildering mixture of
laughter, adrenaline, and desire making him arch against Jim's fingers.
His mind was fogged--all he could think of was that he couldn't take any
more.
"Jim, come on, man, let me up. I said I was ticklish, I cracked, what
more do you—ah!" Just then Jim suddenly thrust the tip of his smallest
finger into his navel, and Blair arched spastically as all the nerve
endings in his stomach went wild. "Oh god… Jiiiiim…" Jim chuckled and
did it again, and Blair bucked against him frantically. /Oh, man, this
is not good!/
"Come on--Jim!" He craned his neck to glare at his roommate through
stifled shouts of laughter. "What are you trying to do, man? Drive me
nuts? That tickles!"
Jim looked up at him. "That tickles, huh?" He paused and frowned
consideringly, then shook his head. "Nah, I'd better try that again. You
know how you should always verify any new discovery, right?" He smiled,
giving Blair a mischievous look. "Isn't that what you always say to me?"
Blair froze and looked apprehensively at the intent look in his
Sentinel's eyes, almost dreading the investigative light he saw. Jim
Ellison had both curiosity and control of the situation, and that was a
very dangerous combination for one Blair Sandburg. He began to
half-heartedly struggle against his Sentinel's restraint, but Jim was as
unyielding as he was careful, and though Blair still had some freedom of
movement and could breathe easily, he was as effectively trapped as
though he was trapped in cement.
"So," Jim began almost conversationally, squashing another headlong
attempt to escape, "you really are ticklish? You *do* admit that,
right?" His hand began to move in circles, expanding ever outward to
finally end at Blair's waistline. Blair made a violent lunge to escape,
but Jim easily pulled him back and began to spider his fingertips across
the incredibly sensitive skin at Blair's waist. Blair moaned and giggled
helplessly, twitching, feeling his stomach muscles going into spasms at
the constant torturous stimulation. It was *just* firm enough to be
felt, but far too light to be really satisfying, and the stimulus was
making his brain melt, one neuron at a time.
Jim chuckled as his partner yelped and thrashed, trying to get away from
the maddening, knowledgeable fingers currently stroking along the tender
skin sheltered underneath the waistband of his jeans. Blair groaned,
trying to arch his hips away from Jim's hand, as what was normally a
touchy area became almost painfully sensitized. The callused fingerpads
breezed along his shuddering skin, until Blair could swear he felt every
ridge, every line of the sentinel’s fingerprints. Everything. And he
could feel the erection pressing with increasing insistence at the seam
of his jeans as his body interpreted the stimulation it was receiving.
/Oh no, oh *shit,* this can't be happening…/ But it was, and he could
feel his body begin to react hungrily to Jim's tickling, teasing
caresses. He still was laughing, but the pure laughter of being tickled
had deepened, darkened, dropping lower into the huskier registers of
desire. He began to hiccup, breath catching on a sob, and to his horror
saw his nipples beaded up tight and red, aching to be touched with the
same exquisite mixture of agony and ecstasy that Jim's hands were
bringing to his stomach. And now Jim was tugging at his jeans, a
gloriously luminous grin on his face, sliding one hand underneath the
soft denim to search out the even more sensitive spots that lay across
the tight, smooth skin of his pelvis. Ruffling the hair. Stroking until
Blair thought he might go insane just from the sheer pleasure of it. It
felt incredible, unbelievable, arousing beyond anything he had ever felt
before…/oh god/…and soon Jim was going to find out just *how* good it
felt…
It took strength Blair didn't know he had, both physical and mental, to
pull away from that perfect, intoxicating touch and firm grasp to escape
over the back of the couch. He landed with a thud and was moving almost
before he hit the floor, scrambling to his feet to back away from the
advancing Sentinel.
"Jim, stop. Just leave me alone. Jim, I said…yipe!" Jim darted forward
with feline grace and Blair bolted, aiming for his room with an
involuntary snicker as Jim slipped and lost ground, then he was
running…running…almost safe…
"Oof!" Two strong arms closed around his midsection and pulled him back
from the dubious shelter of his room, trapping him against a rock-hard
body. Jim smiled down at him, and one arm lifted and held him immobile
while the other slipped down to scrabble with shattering delicacy inside
the open fly of his jeans, against the shuddering, sensitized skin.
Blair snickered helplessly and bucked again under the restraint,
laughing, kicking and felt Jim moving them, felt the back of the couch
against his butt--/oh hell/--
Then he was falling backwards in a descent controlled by Jim's big arms,
arched helplessly over the back of the couch and pinned with one forearm
while Jim sent his hand roving along his stomach and abdomen in a
continuation of the determined assault that was slowly reducing his mind
to mush, his breath to laughing hiccups, and his inhibitions to nil. He
was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe; the arched, vulnerable
position tightened and sensitized the soft, shivering skin on his belly
so much that the slightest contact was enough now to get a reaction, and
Jim was laughing too as he explored this intriguing new side to his
Guide, the sound rich and warm and glorious.
"Looks like I've found a way to keep you in line, Chief," he teased, and
the good-natured humor and genuine affection in his voice made Blair
catch his breath. He was almost fully hard now, and Jim was moving his
hand lower…lower…He squirmed, trying to get away, but Jim absorbed the
movement, smirked, and edged his fingers just a little lower, searching
for more ticklish hotspots.
His seeking fingertips brushed the tip of Blair's straining erection,
and all movement froze.
Jim gave Blair a stunned look, and Blair felt himself flushing. He
closed his eyes, unable to stand the look of shock in Jim's handsome
face. He felt the hand gingerly withdraw from inside his jeans, felt the
forearm pinning him lift, and winced miserably.
/Great, Sandburg,/ he thought savagely to himself. /Way to screw up the
best friendship you ever had. Man was like a goddamn brother, and what
do you do? Go and get aroused during a simple game of
"Tickle-Blair-'til-His-Brain-Melts," freak Jim out, freak *yourself*
out, totally wreck everything in your life that means anything… Oh yeah,
Blair, good going. *Not.*/
He tipped himself over the back of the couch to fall full-length on the
cushions, panting and trying to keep his face from reflecting the
desperation he felt. Not that he suspected he was very successful. "Jim,
I…"
"Save it," Jim said--not brusquely, almost gently. "Just…wait a minute,
Sandburg. Let me get my bearings back before you start in on whatever
tangent. Okay?" Blair nodded, eyes still closed. There was a long
silence, during which Blair couldn't even hear Jim breathing, then a
rustle as Jim came around to the front of the couch. Since Blair was
sprawled the full length of the couch, he sat down on the floor and
leaned back, his shoulders just barely brushing Blair's side. Blair
tensed, but Jim seemed not to notice, so he forced himself to relax.
Opening his eyes, he studied the ceiling and waited for Jim to speak.
"So," came the quiet voice, after a long pause. "You're gay?"
Blair shook his head. "Never happened before, man," he answered, just as
quietly.
"Do you know why it did?" Was there a shading in those words? Blair
couldn't tell, so he kept his own tone neutral.
"I don't know--I guess it must have just been all the stimulation. I
said before that it's easy for me to get ticklish when I'm--aroused--"he
choked slightly on the word, but Jim didn't react so he went on, "--so I
guess it could also work the other way."
Jim nodded; Blair could feel the move against his abdomen and shivered
slightly as the over-stimulated skin reacted. Again Jim didn't seem to
notice, so Blair brought the tremble--and the sharp surge of desire that
had accompanied it--back under control. "So you aren't attracted to me?"
Blair went very still. There had *definitely* been something more in
Jim's voice, but he couldn't quite identify it--was afraid to identify
it. He decided to stick with the truth, and prayed that Jim wouldn't
throw him out.
"I…wouldn't say that. You're a pretty attractive guy, you know?" He
waited, shaking, for Jim to respond.
Jim didn't say anything for a long time. Finally he spoke.
"So is that a yes or a no?"
Blair almost growled with frustration. "I don't know, man! I've
*never*--this has never--frankly, Jim, I'd never even really considered
it as a viable option before!"
Jim nodded again. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll give you a few minutes
to figure it out, then." His voice was accepting, casual--but oddly
intense and serious, and Blair went rigid with shock. /Oh my god,/ he
realized, with an odd thrill in the pit of his stomach, /he wants this./
Jim turned around to look at him for the first time since this whole
surreal conversation had started. "I've wanted you forever, Blair," he
said soberly, the unaccustomed use of his name making Blair stare. "I
fell in love a long time ago. But this isn't a game for me, and I can't
play it with you." He sat back, once again not looking at Blair, his
voice dropping almost to nothing. "So there're my cards, laid out on the
table--but I'm not going anywhere until I've seen yours."
Blair went totally still. Suddenly, a lot of things were becoming
clear--like Jim's amazing, humbling, absolute faith in him. The constant
affectionate touches Blair received, the close bond between them, always
initiated by the otherwise distant and uncommunicative cop, and only
directed towards Blair. Opening up his home, his job, his life, to
someone so completely out of his experience, who could leave at any
time.
Blair had always wondered why. Why had Jim--the original lone
wolf--opened himself so totally, to someone like *Blair*? Why had he
sacrificed so much, given so much?
Love. Pure and simple.
But did Blair love him back?
Blair considered this for a long moment. Jim was right; this wasn't
something he could just play around with. He had to be sure. And he
wasn't sure. Not at all.
Of course he loved Jim; that wasn't the issue. He loved Jim more than he
could say, more than breath, more than life. If the man had asked him,
he would have cheerfully thrown himself off the Cascade Dam. Given up
his dissertation. Anything. But did 'anything' mean that he loved Jim
*like that*?
He thought about that. Jim was handsome--even someone completely
uninterested in guys had to admit that. Tall, muscular without being
massive, with clear blue eyes that seemed to light up the room, Jim was
probably one of the most attractive men Blair had ever known. There were
times when he would simply watch his Sentinel, enthralled by the power
and grace of the man, enjoying the simple sensations of being in the
same room with this beautiful creature.
He'd never considered it in a sexual light before--it was simply
something he did, without thought. But now, he was thinking about it,
and he felt a slow warmth curl in the pit of his stomach as he realized
what it could mean. What it did mean. Love, affection, trust, respect,
admiration--all of that was there when he looked at Jim. And now he
could identify the warmth he had felt, delighted in, even, but never
thought to label.
Atttraction. Appreciation.
Desire.
/I'm in love with Jim,/ Blair thought, stunned into stillness by the
internal revelation. /I love him--I'm *in love* with him--and I never
knew it. Never had a clue.../ He looked up to see Jim's gaze steady on
his face, the blue eyes outwardly calm but with hints of apprehension
and uncertainty. /What do I say to him?/
Jim's eyes clouded over slightly as he looked at Blair, and Blair felt
himself flushing, feeling like every confused thought was reflected on
his face. He shook his head quickly, forstalling the withdrawal he could
see in Jim's suddenly guarded expression. "No, no, it's okay, Jim. I'm
just...processing, I guess. I mean, it's a bit of a shock to realize
that you've fallen in love and you never knew it, you know?"
Jim smiled slightly, the guarded expression vanishing, replaced by
understanding and a faint, humbling trace of dawning hope. Blair
swallowed nervously and carefully reached out, petting the short dark
hair tentatively, sliding his hand down to cup Jim's jaw. Jim lifted his
hand to catch Blair's, half-turning so that the older man was on his
knees by the couch, leaning over Blair's body with his arms braced on
either side of him.
Blair looked up at his partner, poised just above him and watching him
with an unsure expression. /He doesn't know what to do next,/ Blair
realized. /He's as nervous as I am./ And that thought made it easier to
stretch up and press his lips lightly to Jim's throat.
Jim's reaction was gratifyingly strong; he closed his eyes and trembled
slightly, rumbling deep in his throat in pleasure. Blair closed his eyes
too, feeling the tense choked feeling in his chest release, savoring the
soft feel of Jim's skin against his mouth--and Jim pounced.
Big hands went to his body, sliding up his bare chest to grasp his arms
and tug them lightly upwards, where they were pinned with one hand while
the other stroked back downwards to slide onto the flat muscled expanse
of Blair's stomach. Jim paused to smirk down at him, and Blair groaned
and squirmed helplessly as the fingers once again began their torture.
Blair had thought that he'd had it bad while Jim was tickling him--now
he discovered a whole new dimension to the teasing as Jim put his
heightened sense of touch to devastating use.
All the hot spots Jim had discovered earlier he now revisited, petting
with light, teasing touches, the contact just as maddening, but for much
different reasons. Blair felt his erection returning, the indescribable
in-out ache and desire sinking claws into his gut and making him buck
and moan underneath Jim's solid weight. He couldn't even move, almost
totally pinned under his partner, helpless to protest the teasing. Jim
smiled at him, wicked amusement in his eyes as he watched Blair twist
beneath him.
Status: new
Date: July 10, 1998
Archive: yes
Archive author: yes
Archive email address: yes
Series/Sequel:
Other website:
http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Studio/3603/senfic.html
Disclaimers: Not mine
with me. ?
t was nearly ten-thirty, and Blair sighed ruefully as he pulled into
his parking space. Jim would be sure to notice him coming home from a
date three hours before he usually got home, and just the thought of the
questions that his appearance would raise was almost enough to make him
pull back out and go somewhere. Anywhere. A bar, maybe. Tahiti.
Wherever.
