Rated G Warnings: I won't tell Notes: some nonsense I just dreamed up

Um...no...no...what iz it? Blair threw back the covers so that they lay doubled across Jim's back. He scratched his snarly hair and poked a finger in his belly button.

Something...what?

Oh, yeah, where was I? He flopped over on his stomach, making a permanent dent in the pillow. Where...

In a meadow. Autumn...Russets and golds and ochres and lavendars and pale greens and pumpkins oranges and so many different shades of the earth...that's beautiful!

Blair grasped at the pointed end of the pillow and slept on.

Trees, oh yeah, big trees, and we're walking somewhere...forest...are we walking together? No, Jim's way ahead. He's blurry. All I can see is his straight back, he's wearing a turtleneck, I think.

A glade in the forest, a magical fairy ring of whitened birches. A leaping, laughing brook tinkling over pebbles. A brook chime. Blair smiled. Jim, wait up...do you hear the water gurgling, how does it sound to sentinel ears if you dial it up just a tiny bit...will it sound like bells?

Jim didn't turn around. He was steadily walking on through the forest, calmy picking up more speed. Why don't you look back? Are you mad at me? Are you avoiding me? What did I do?

Blair could not walk any faster. He noticed a hoary mist rising from the ground, completely covering the spiky grass and weeds. The mist became thick, thick as pudding. His barefeet...where are my shoes?

Why can't I go any faster? Soon Jim's gonna disappear over that hill..how'll I find him in these woods...where's he going?

He tried to pick up the pace...I'm walking in wet cement...but it's not funny. Jim?

Jim was standing on top of a beautiful hill decked with crackling leaves that crunched and broke apart as his weight descended on top of them. Worship of autmnal glories by the extraordinarily beautiful man.

Blair slowly progressed and inched closer to his lover as Jim had stopped moving. He came to the bottom of the hill...finally...looking up...yes! "Jim!" he yelled. "Jim?"

"Jim, what's the matter with you? Why won't you wait? Why don't you turn around and look at me? Look at me! Jim!"

Unhearing and not turning at his partner's desperate call, Blair heard Jim chuckle. Jim burst out laughing. WHAT!

Tears pricked Blair's eyes. Is Jim laughing at me 'cause I can't keep up with him? "Jim, please don't laugh at me...please...I LOVE YOU...I'm sorry...I couldn't get here sooner...there's this stuff on the ground, it's like plaster of paris or potato soup...wading through it as quickly as I can--I couldn't...

Jim continued to laugh. Beautiful music.

Blair grasped his knee with both hands and pulled it up out of the sticky goo, then let his foot fall a foot in front...if this is the only way I can reach you...I will...

Slowly Blair began struggling, actually, putting one foot in front of the other. God, I'm tired.

What was that? That sound?

He looked up from his struggling legs and saw Jim catch a football in his big hands. A football? Jim...you can't play ball in these woods...

Jim laughed and juggled the ball in his hands, getting ready to throw it to...?

Blair stumbled as Jim started down the hill on the other side. God, why couldn't he wait...what're those sounds...who?

Voices...laughing, playful screams, children...sounds of running feet ripping through the waving grass...and a man...Jim...what'd he say?

"Chow time...come on, kids!"

Finally crawling on his knees, wallowing through the misty group, Blair reached the pinnacle of the hill and saw...

Jim surrounded...by four children...two boys and two girls. The boys were fair-haired and strong, pushy, collapsing in a wrestling heap on the two quilts that broke their falls. The two little girls had auburn wavey hair and scrambled across Jim's chest, one clinging to his neck, the other digging her fingers into his stomach, tickling to hear her...father? laugh.

He knew when Jim laughed hard at one of his antics in bed or the loft, Jim's stomach muscles would ripple, and when the tickles left he'd clasp Blair to him in a grizzly bear hug, leaving Blair the one gasping for breath. And when encircled by his big man's arms (no place on this earth Blair thought safer), the chuckles turned to soft whispers and promises and sensuous demands and erotic caresses, leaving him panting...

Jim sat up suddenly, the girls still holding tightly on. He held out his hand to...

Blair hid his face in the damp musty soil, breathing deeply of the decayed leaves and mold from the rain mixed with dead grasses and wildflowers who had given their final blossoms into mother nature's wettened bosom until spring. They're dead.

There were things, sharpened points, pricking his eyes now. Why can't I...

His fingers dug into the soil, the soil he'd once thought so warmly beautiful, now it was just dirt... creeping under his fingernails, creasing the fine lines of his palms. No...he cried... Down farther into the ground...digging...plowing...his middle finger struck a stone...and he lay without strength to move.

There was a roaring in his ears...an airplane landing in the forest...was he underwater...the fountain, again?

Let me die this time. Don't...don't wanna live...no...no more...God?

Something broke through the rushing noise...pinging...trickle...plops...

With a horrified gasp, Blair opened his eyes and heard the storm beating against the windows and roof of the loft. The storm...rain...is Jim...here?

He was alone.

In tee shirt and boxers and socks, shivering...the comforter and sheet and blanket all on the other side of the bed...just a big lump there...where was...?

There was a monstrous clatter falling downstairs. As if every dish had fallen into the floor and broken...no, it was a metallic clang...clang...clang...

And the footsteps swathing over the floor and opening and shutting of doors...the footfalls heaving from one side to the other...and the hard rains continued to fall, beating and lashing, as if it were Noah's deluge returning...where are you...?

A heavy man's steps pattered up the stairs. Heavy steps. Blair threw his arms across his eyes as a wavering bright light shone into them, blinding as if from a sentinel lighthouse homing the sailors on to safe shores.

He stretched out his hand, sliding them upon the bottom sheet, searching for...

A man kerplunked something from one hand to the next..the flashlight?...and slid it underneath Blair's pillow.

The man tumbled into bed on the other side, and arranged covers efficiently in the dark. Who, is it Ji...

A hand patted his cheek gently, and a cold nose poked right under the curve of his jaw. A familiar, oh thank God, voice, oh thank you, God, softly said, "Here's the flashlight for you, if you have to get up. Electricity's out. Try to go back to sleep, Chief...Sweet dreams."

The dear lips that kissed him every day lightly brushed against his, as the man brought the comforter to cover the two of them snugly.

Sweet dreams, Ellison? Sweet?

That woman...you were waiting on her...the mother of your babies...

I'll never have sweet dreams again.