The rest of their stay in California was uneventful, though they
were thrilled to hear an  affirmative reply back from Nathan Delevan
only hours before they were due to board the plane back  to Cascade.

     Blair slept peacefully in Jim's arms at night, but neither man
seemed to be pursuing anything  sexual for the time being.  The first
time had been good, but it had still brought up painful memories  for
Blair, and Jim figured he had enough to cope with without stirring his
emotions up further.  They  still had the legwork on the Park case to
complete.

     A side trip to Tacoma unearthed very little new evidence.  Keith
Park had fallen down an  outdoor staircase and broken his neck.  If there
had been a pattern of abuse, the elderly landlady was  disinclined to
reveal that.  The house where Park and Watson lived in the upstairs
apartment was not close to its neighbors, and there were no records of
calls to the police for domestic violence incidents.  

     Keith Park was a loner who didn't have many close friends, and
his family all lived in the  Midwest.  His parents hadn't seen him for over
a year before he died.  His homosexuality had  estranged him from the
rest of the Park family, and he'd moved out to the West Coast. 
Ironically, he  had lived in LA while Watson did, but didn't meet him
until Park accepted a job in Tacoma as a  photographer for a local
newspaper.  

     Watson's employer in Tacoma had no complaints against him,
except for a passing mention that he appeared to have a bad temper only
marginally under control.

     "That was a whole lot of nothing," Blair grumbled as he dropped
onto the couch.  Jim locked the door of the loft behind them and tossed
his keys in the basket.

     "We did well in California, Chief.  You can't win 'em all."

     "But he probably murdered Keith Park!  Dammit, Jim, we could
have put him away for life!"

     "Okay, so Tacoma was a dead end.  We still gained a lot by what
we found out in LA.  We have established a pattern of behavior with
Watson--" 

     "Oh, yeah, right.  * If * Nathan Delevan really comes through and
testifies.  If he decides not  to, it's back to my word against his.  You said
yourself that the DA felt we needed some back up for  me." 

     "It never hurts to be able to corroborate your version of life with
Vince Watson."  Jim settled  on the couch behind where Blair sat in the
corner of it, facing away from him.  He gathered the  smaller body in his
arms and rested his chin on Blair's head.

     "He's gonna skate, Jim.  You know it and I know it."

     "He isn't going to skate, sweetheart.  I already told you that."

     "I don't want you to do something stupid, Jim.  I mean that." 
Blair put his hands over the hands that crossed at his waist.  "I don't want
to lose you that way."

     "You're not going to lose me at all."

     "Look, I know you think that because you know 10,000 ways to
kill a man with a toothpick  from being in Covert Ops and another
10,000 ways to hide the body, that means I want you to go out  and do
away with Vince.  I don't want you to turn into a murderer for me.  I
don't want you to look  at me and know that I made you do that."

     "You aren't making me do anything, Chief.  I've told you before
to quit worrying about it."

     "I can't, Jim.  You can talk to me, man.  You always shut me up
with telling me not to ask any  questions, but you know damn well I'd
never testify against you or say anything to anybody-anything  you told
me would be in confidence.  I'd die before I'd tell on you."

     "I know that.  I don't want you lying for me."

     "But it's okay if you kill for me?"

     "Nobody said anything about killing, sweetheart."  Jim kissed the
soft hair that had been tucked under his chin.

     "What're you planning then?  To sternly advise him not to bother
me?"

     "Worked before, didn't it?"

     "No, Jim, it didn't.  Vince isn't obeying your advice.  He's lurking. 
It's the calm before the  storm.  He's up to something." Blair shuddered,
and Jim's arms tightened around him.

     "I know that he seems larger than life to you sometimes,
sweetheart, but he isn't.  He's just  a man.  A sick, perverted, twisted man
but still-nothing more than that.  He isn't all-powerful."

     "It feels like he is.  It's just like tomorrow.  Meeting with the DA. 
He can still humiliate me  even by proxy.  Do you know what it feels like
to talk about the things he did to me?  To admit that  I let him treat me
that way and didn't do anything to save myself?"

     "We've been over this before, Chief.  You didn't * let * him do
anything.  He terrorized you  into thinking that you were going to be
putting the people you loved in jeopardy by crossing him.   The
dangerous thing about this SOB is that he's a * smart * SOB. He knew
how to psych you out.   Just beating you or threatening you wouldn't
keep you in line.  You'd want your freedom and your  safety, and you'd
be independent-minded enough to tell him to fuck off.  But if you
thought you were  putting me at risk, or your mom at risk, you'd endure
anything.  You stayed for us-for the people you  love."

     "I still look like the world's biggest wuss.  I mean, look at what
he did to me.  Over and over again, and I didn't fight back."

     "Just because you don't fight back doesn't make it less of a rape,
or it doesn't make it right for  him to beat you."  Jim nuzzled Blair's hair,
cuddling him close.  "I know this is hard. If there was any  way I could
spare you talking to the DA tomorrow, or testifying at all, I would.  You
know that."

     "But that's the only way.  I know."

     "Look at it this way:  at least you're getting a practice run with
friendly troops before you have to deal with the trial."

     "I guess." He paused a moment.  "You getting hungry, lover?" 
Blair turned slightly in Jim's  embrace.  It was the first time he'd shown
any interest in food without Jim prodding him to eat.  Even  though his
appetite was normal now, and his weight at a good level again, he still
rarely suggested  food first or offered to cook.

     "What'd you have in mind?" 

     "I don't know.  Have we got any pasta in the house?"

     "There's some fettuccine."

     "I can work with that.  Anything we can put on it?"
                                             
     "There's some frozen chicken breasts and I think we have all the
stuff you used to use to make sauce."

     "Fettuccine Alfredo with chicken.  Cool.  I can do that." Blair got
up and headed for the kitchen.  

     Jim turned on the couch and rested his chin on his arm on the
back of it, watching Blair move  around the kitchen as if he'd never left. 
It was so wonderful to see him there, doing something so  ordinary and
domestic as pulling out pans to cook dinner, that Jim had to close his
eyes for a moment  against the emotion that was sweeping over him.  His
beautiful Blair was coming back, little by little.   And when this damn
trial was over, maybe he could come back the rest of the way, and finally
put  Vince Watson behind him.

******

     Beverly Sanchez sorted through a formidable stack of paper that
had bulged from a manilla  folder she'd brought to the conference table. 
Blair had expressed mixed feelings about talking to  someone they both
knew, but he'd admitted to Jim that he realized it made very little
difference.  In  a matter of a couple of weeks, he'd be telling his story to
an open courtroom.

     "There are a few things we should go over before we get started
with the Q&A."  Beverly  folded her hands together and rested them on
top of the pile of papers.  "Obviously we have to work past the obstacle
of your testimony at the hearing regarding the restraining order.  I spoke
to my supervisor and he's not interested in pursuing charges against you
if your testimony in this case conflicts with that, even though both are
under oath."  She opened a slender folder that sat beside the larger one
and scanned the page of notes inside.  "There are a couple of things  the
defense is planning to use that I think you should be aware of--both of
you."  Jim and Blair  exchanged glances, and she continued.  "First,
Watson is claiming that Blair only started having a  relationship with
him because he looked like you, Jim." She looked from one to the other,
obviously  expecting some reaction or objection.  "Blair?"

     "That's true,"  he admitted quietly.  Jim pitied his lover
immensely.  Being forced to read one's diary out loud and defend it
couldn't have been more embarrassing.
 
     "You're kidding?"  She shook her head.  "I'm sorry.  I'm not
finding fault with your  preferences.  I was just hanging my hat on that
being a lot of fluff--a smokescreen from the defense."   She paused, and
then rolled her eyes as if trying to prepare herself to ask the next
question and hear  the answer.  "He further claims that you and Jim are
currently lovers, and that this case is less about  abuse than it is about a
jealous lover coming--and I quote--" she read from the notes, 'to drag
Sandburg off by the hair back to his  cave'."

     "Jim and I weren't lovers when I met Vince.  So that's not true."

     "You weren't lovers when you met Vince.  Hold up a second. 
Are you trying to tell me that you are now?"

     "That's what he's saying."  Jim rescued Blair from his uncertainty. 
"It took something like this happening to shake me up, I guess.  But now
that it has, a lot of things fell into place for me.  For us."

     "I don't believe this."  She snorted an ugly little laugh.  "All this
time, I just assumed this was so much tabloid fodder Watson and his
lawyer cooked up."

     "If you're waiting for me to apologize for this relationship, it isn't
going to happen."  Jim met Beverly's eyes with unwavering conviction.

     "Well, I guess there's no point in wasting our time bemoaning
what can't be helped."  She  started shuffling through her papers. "One
thing you should be aware of from the outset is that we  have a couple of
strikes against us-well, several, given what you've just told me.  First, we
have a  male victim.  I know it's an unjust double standard, but male
abuse victims are not accorded the same  sympathy and credibility as
female victims."

     "That sucks,"  Jim interjected. 

     "I agree.  So does the hole in the ozone layer, but it exists. 
Second, we have a homosexual  relationship as the domestic set-up. 
Even with every effort made to select a liberal jury, you'll get  some
members of it who won't be able to put that aside and objectively
consider the evidence of  domestic violence without putting it in a
different light because of that."

     "Do you think we're all finished because of Jim and me?"  Blair
asked.

     "Not necessarily, but it's a considerable obstacle I'd have liked
more warning about than this.   Listen, I don't agree with what Watson
did.  Whether I agree with or understand your lifestyle or  preferences,
nothing justifies that type of behavior.  Hopefully a jury can view it that
way too.  The  third problem we have is the issue of kinky sex."

     "What?"  Jim seemed shocked, but Blair just slid down slightly in
his chair and covered his face with one hand.

     "Watson has a fairly extensive collection of...toys.  He claims
that most of them were your idea, Blair."

     "That's a damn lie,"  came a low voice from behind the shelter of
Blair's hand.

     "You didn't order any of these items?"  She slid an inventory list
in front of Blair, which Jim  began reading over his shoulder. Handcuffs,
dildos, whips and other assorted paraphernalia were  listed there.  A total
of twenty-six adult toys, all leaning toward S&M activities comprised
the list.

     "Yes,"  Blair muttered.

     "Why did you just tell me none of them were your idea then?"

     "Because they weren't," he replied quietly.

     "The orders were all placed in your name, charged to your credit
card."

     "He picked the stuff out and made me order it, okay?"  Blair
looked up, his voice raised with  a definite threat of tears behind it.  "It
gave him a thrill to make me order it because he knew I... I didn't  want
to do things that way.  I knew he was going to use that crap on me and he
knew I hated it and  it just made it that much more fun for him to make
me pay for it."

     "He used all of these items with you?"

     "What do you think?"  Blair shot back, wiping away a couple of
escaping tears.  "He only stopped using the whip because the marks
lasted too long and he was afraid of someone seeing them."

     "Goddamn that bastard,"  Jim growled.

     "He says that you had a taste for this kind of activity, and that it
escalated as your relationship progressed."  She waited as Blair laughed
a little, though there was no joy in the sound.

     "Why doesn't that surprise me?  I've * never * had a taste for this
kind of stuff.  I'm not  making judgements on people who do, but that's
never been what sex was about in my mind.  I  always thought it ought to
be about love, and I don't see what handcuffing someone to a bed and 
whipping them has to do with love."

     "Is that what he did?"

     "Look, suffice it to say that when he got one of his new toys, he
wanted to play with it.  A  lot.  Until he got sick of it, or until he was too
tired, or too hard and just wanted to fuck my brains  out and then roll
over and go to sleep."  Blair paused.  "I'm sorry.  I'm being unnecessarily
crude."

     "Understandable."  Beverly tried to smile slightly.  She glanced at
Jim, who was a study in  contained rage.  His jaw was twitching, the fist
that rested on the table clenched so tightly that the  knuckles were white.

     "Do I have to describe everything?"  Blair asked.

     "Inasmuch as it gets us sympathy.  You don't need to be
gratuitous, but the fact you weren't  interested in that type of activity,
followed by descriptions of some of the more violent incidents you  were
subjected to might help us."

     The next several minutes put Blair through the difficult paces of
going down the list of toys  and describing how and when each one was
used.  Blair was always on the receiving end of the  painful stimuli,
having been subjected to everything from simple bondage to whipping to
increasingly  exotic and painful activities.

     The session concluded after running through all of the known
facts of the case, including the beatings and sexual assault incidents that
Blair had previously disclosed.

     "Well, gentlemen, I can tell you one thing.  We have an uphill
battle here.  I don't think it's  beyond us to win it, but it's going to be a
struggle.  It's only fair for me to warn you that Watson's  lawyer is going
to take the gloves off when he cross-examines you, Blair."

     "Make the victim the criminal, huh?  That's nothing new." Jim
shook his head.

     "Jim, you have to understand that all we have is Blair's word that
he didn't like all the kinky  toys that were ordered by him and placed on
his credit card.  Both of the key bombshells of Watson's  defense are
true-Blair was carrying a torch for you, and the two of you are currently
lovers.  That  doesn't leave you a hell of a lot of credibility as a cop on
the case."

     "What about Nathan Delevan?"

     "I spoke with him by phone yesterday.  He will be a great
witness.  Something a little more current would have been helpful, but
we'll work with what we have."

     "What do you think our chances really are?"  Jim leaned forward,
elbows on the table.

     "I think we'll get a conviction on the aggravated assault without
question.  Even if Blair had  all the kinky tastes Watson claims he did,
no one asks to be beaten until their spleen ruptures.  And  even if you
twisted it around to say that Blair considered a beating a turn on, that
degree of beating  is irresponsible and absurd.  I have total confidence in
that charge. I have some concerns about how  far we'll get with the rape
charge."

     "He needed stitches, Beverly.  You've seen the hospital reports." 
Jim hated to bring up the  technicalities, glancing at Blair, who had very
little dignity left after everything that had been  discussed.  Now they
were discussing the condition of his rectum as if it were just another
piece of  evidence.

     "If--mind you, * if *-- the jury buys the S&M angle, the tearing
and other injuries are not outside the realm of possibility for some
messing around that got out of hand."

     "Oh, Beverly, come on!"  Jim slumped back in his chair.  "Who
in hell asks to be torn up like that?"

     "A pain junkie."

     "Are we done here?"  Blair asked quietly, keeping his eyes
focused on the entwined hands in his lap.

     "Yes.  Blair, I'm sorry this had to get so personal.  There isn't any
other way."

     "I know.  I just hope it works."

     "So do I.  I'll be in touch if I have any other questions."

     "You know where to find us,"  Jim responded, standing.  Blair
followed suit.

     Blair was silent for most of the ride back to the loft.  He kept his
eyes focused on the scenery  passing the passenger window. Jim finally
reached over and picked up the hand that rested on Blair's  knee.

     "I'm sorry you have to go through this, baby."

     "How can you even...even care about me after you heard what I
did with him?"  Blair's voice was shaky, but he kept his gaze averted out
the window.

     "Watson was the pervert here, not you."

     "Sometimes I feel so...so guilty.  Dirty.  I didn't want to do any of
that stuff.  But it all happened."

     "It wasn't your choice, sweetheart."

     "Jim, they're going to make me look like nothing better than a
kinky male whore.  I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to end things
right now."

     "What?  Why?"  Jim tried to keep his divided concentration on
the traffic.

     "Being lovers with me is the worst thing that could happen to
your career."

     "And the best thing that ever happened to * me *.  Screw my
career.  Screw all the bastards  who want to mess us up.  I love you,
Blair.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  I'll be  damned if I
give up my one shot at happiness with the person I love because of some
set of lies  Watson cooks up."

     "There's something I don't exactly understand, Jim.  It's been
bothering me since I got back."

     "What's that, sweetheart?"

     "When I left, it was because you couldn't handle thinking about
loving another man, not even  me--I think those were your exact words." 
Blair took a deep breath.  "I guess I need to know why  all of a sudden,
when I show up all messed up and half dead, you suddenly want me for a
lover."

     "I thought we'd been over that.  I guess it took the proverbial
brick house falling on me before  I stopped and assessed what mattered
more-sticking with some tired old preconceived notion about  love and
sex or having a life with the person I wanted to be with."   

     "But how do you just switch your orientation all of a sudden?"

     "I don't know."  Jim was frustrated now.  Blair was asking him to
put into words feelings that seemed to defy them.  "Maybe you fall in
love and everything else figures itself out."

     "All I'm saying here is that the only thing worse than a pity fuck
would be a guilt fuck.  I don't  want you taking me in and doing what I
want because you feel guilty that I got messed up after I left  you.  That
wasn't your fault.  That I did all by myself."

     "Watson did that."

     "Whatever.  The point is, it isn't your responsibility to make it up
to me because someone else abused me."

     "Is that what you think we're about?  Some kind of guilt relief on
my part?"

     "I believe that you love me.  I just don't know as it would have
taken this form if you hadn't felt bad that I got what I got with the next
person I was with after you."

     "Sometimes an idea has to be suggested to someone before they
can embrace it.  Sometimes  you don't think of something until someone
brings it up.  I never even thought of making love to you,  even though I
loved you with all my heart from...well, practically from the day you
moved in with me.   I didn't even really want to *like * you at first, but I
did.  And before long, I loved you and wanted  you in my life.  But since
you were a man, I didn't let myself consider the possibility of us being 
lovers.  I thought of you as family."

     "So what changed?"

     "I spent close to a year by myself, and I think I went on a grand
total of two dates in that time.   I hated every minute of both of them.  It
made me realize that I wanted to eat dinner with you, I  wanted to go to
movies with you-even if you do talk too much through them-and I
wanted to share  everything I could with you.  I felt split down the
middle without you.  And I guess I woke up one  day and realized that
you knew what we had long before I did, and that you were right about
what  direction it should take next.  But by then, we'd been out of touch
for months, and even when I called, I got that e-mail back.  I hope you've
changed your passcodes and password since you got out of the hospital."

     "Yeah, I did all that as soon as I could hold the phone to call the
U."  Blair stared out the window a few more moments.   "So you figured
there wasn't any point in calling again, huh?"

     "Blair, I think I set a record for the number of calls I made to
Rainier's voice mail system.  I didn't figure you were any more interested
after you'd started a relationship with someone else than you were when
you ignored my messages."

     "You were pissed at me?"

     "Not really.  Just disappointed."

     "So when I showed up again--"

     "I made up my mind I wasn't going to fuck it up the second time."

     "This is what you really want then?"

     "Yeah, this is what I really want.  Geez, Sandburg, what am I
going to do with you?"

     "Maybe when we get home, you could figure something out," 
Blair responded, with a definite  invitation in his voice.  Jim pulled the
hand he was holding up to his lips and kissed it.

******

     There was something incredibly sexy about drawing the shades in
the middle of the afternoon  to make love.  At the same time, there was
something very awe-inspiring about the responsibility of  making love to
Blair.  Given everything he'd been through, it was difficult to know what
he would  want to do, what would upset him, or what would, God forbid,
remind him of something Watson did.

     While Jim contemplated all this in the loft bedroom, chewing
thoughtfully on his lower lip as  he turned back the bed, Blair made his
way upstairs.  He was already wearing his robe.

     "I got undressed downstairs,"  he explained.

     "You're a little ahead of me, Chief,"  Jim stated, smiling a bit. 
"Maybe you can give me a hand, huh?" He slid his arms around Blair's
waist, pulling him close.

     "I figured we were going to take things slower today than we did
in LA, and I...I know it  sounds weird, but...  I didn't want to have to
undress for you...   In front of you, I mean."  Blair kept  his face buried
against Jim's chest as he spoke.

     "Any special reason, baby?"  Jim stroked the soft hair that hung
loosely on Blair's shoulders now.

     "He used to make me...strip for him.  Move certain ways.  It
made me feel, I don't know, humiliated the way he did it.  I know it
would be different with us, but "

     "But it still bothers you."  Jim squeezed his armload tightly.  "I
understand, sweetheart.  It's okay.  Anything you need to do--or not do--you
 just tell me."

     "I want you."

     "I want you too."

     "No, I mean...I really want you.  All the way."

     "Are you sure?  There's no rush, baby."

     "I'm healed, and I--I want to feel you inside me...us connected."

     "You don't have to do this."

     "I understand if you don't want to."  Blair pulled back to look at
Jim.  "I'm not exactly a clean  slate here.  A lot of people are turned off
by used merchandise."  Blair lowered his eyes again.  There  was no
anger or bitterness in the voice.  Just resignation.

     "You're not used merchandise, baby.  Not at all."  Jim pulled him
into a tight embrace.  "I don't want to hurt you."

     "You won't.  I just... I want to... I want to make a commitment to
you.  A real commitment. Not just words."

     "We have a real commitment.  You don't have to do anything
you're not ready for to prove something to me."

     "But I * am * ready."

     "Then I am too, sweetheart."  Jim pulled back and cupped Blair's
face in both hands.  "I need to go get something-"

     "I got it covered,"  Blair replied, pulling a tube of KY from the
pocket of his robe.  "Do you want to, um, use protection?"

     "Come here."  Jim took his hand and led him to the side of the
bed, where they sat together.   Still holding the hand, he continued. 
"You said Watson always used protection?"

     "Every time."

     "God, I hate to ask this.  Did he use it when you, uh...during oral
sex too?"

     Blair nodded.

     "Did he ever do anything for you?"

     "Jerked me off once in a while because he wanted me to come
while he was inside.  He said he liked it better that way."

     "Did Watson get tested for HIV regularly?"

     "Every six months.  He had just had his six-month check up when
we got together, and he had another one just before all this happened. 
They always came back negative."

     "How about before Vince?  Was there anyone else?"

     "There wasn't anybody else except my right hand since I moved
in with you." 

     "All those girls-what about Chris?"

     "You've got a long memory, man."  Blair laughed a little, shaking
his head to think that Jim  remembered catching him on the couch with
Christine Hong during the Lash case.  "What's the  expression-close, but
no cigar?  I cared a lot about Chris, and she seemed to feel the same way
about  me.  We were headed that way but never got there."   

     "It's been two years for me."

     "Seriously?"

     "Seriously.  You know I've never been big on one night stands,
Chief."

     "Yeah, but that's a long time not to get any."

     "You're telling me.  At one point I figured I should just go move
in with the guys at St. Sebastian's and save on my rent."  That made Blair
laugh, and Jim smile.

     "You think we need to use anything then?"

     "We made a commitment to each other, and we've both been in
relatively safe situations, and  tested regularly.  I don't think we need to. 
I'd like it to be just you and me--no barriers.  But only if  you feel
comfortable with that."

     "I'd like it that way."  Blair nodded, and looked back down at his
lap again.  "Jim, if--if after  what you heard this afternoon, if being with
me... if it kind of grosses you out or anything I'd want you to feel free to
stop."

     "What I heard this afternoon definitely grosses me out.  But not
in terms of * you * grossing  me out.  I want Watson's head on a plate. 
Preferably with an apple in his mouth, like the goddamn  pig that he is."

     "I was so ashamed.  I didn't want you to ever hear that stuff.  I
didn't want you to ever know  what I had to do with him." Blair paused,
and when he looked up, the beginnings of tears were in his  eyes.  "Jim, I
still don't know if I can do it."

     "Do what, sweetheart?  There's no rush with us if you're not
ready."

     "No.  I--I mean testify."

     "Without your testimony, he'll probably walk, Chief."

     "I know."  Blair looked down again.  "I can't say those things in
court, Jim."

     "What if I work on getting a closed courtroom, huh?  No more
people there than those who have to be."

     "Could you do that?"

     "If I can convince Beverly to work on it with the judge, and I
think she will.  Given the  intimate nature of your testimony, and the fact
we don't print rape victims' names anyway, she would  have a good
chance, I think."

     "Okay."

     "Okay.  And about today, sweetheart...are you sure you're ready
to do this?"

     "I'm okay, Jim.  I called the doctor and asked him.  He said I was
healed up from the rape.   He said if I felt good, I was okay to go ahead. 
He just told me to take it easy.  You know-none of  the rough stuff."

     "I don't want to hurt you, Blair."  Jim stroked the soft curls.

     "You won't."

     "I'm a little overdressed, baby.  Why don't you get comfortable
and I'll lose these clothes,  huh?"  He kissed Blair's forehead.  "Get under
the covers.  We'll snuggle for a while and see where  things go, huh?"

     "Okay."

     Jim went about undressing while Blair shed his robe and climbed
into the bed, seemingly  relieved at the more relaxed pace this encounter
was taking.  Before sliding out of his boxers, Jim  found a CD of soft
piano music and put it in the player next to the bed.  

     "That's nice,"  Blair commented, looking very relaxed there
among the big pillows, serene smile on his face.

     "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?"  Jim discarded his
underwear and slipped between the sheets, gathering Blair into his arms.

     "You might've mentioned it, oh, last night sometime,"  Blair
replied, grinning and settling into  the big arms that held him.  It was
remarkable how bulging muscles and great strength could mean  terror
in one man's bed and complete security and solace in another's.

     "Just so you don't forget then.  You're beautiful.  And you smell
good.  Did I ever tell you that?  Or how good it feels to hold you like
this?  How soft your skin is?"

     "If you keep this up, I'm going to start crying here, man."

     "I just want you to know that every inch of you is precious to me. 
And beautiful.  God I love you so much."

     "I love you too."  Blair shifted so his leg flopped over Jim's, and
his arm wrapped around the larger man's middle.

     "Look at all this,"  Jim commented softly, playing lightly with the
mop of curls on his shoulder.  "Just like raw silk."

     There was a shaky intake of breath from Blair, and they lay there
a while in silence, holding  each other and relaxing with the soothing
sounds of the music.  Then Jim began kissing Blair's  forehead, then
dipping down to capture the soft lips in a gentle kiss.  Blair's mouth
yielded to his  immediately, opening with the invitation for Jim's tongue
to explore.  

     Blair's hand strayed across Jim's chest, found a nipple and began
tweaking and rolling it,  smiling against Jim's mouth at the low rumble
that came from Jim's throat at the stimulation.  Blair  pulled away from
their kisses, kissing and nibbling a trail over Jim's jaw line and down to
his Adam's  apple.  Jim reveled in the feeling of the silky hair caressing
his skin as Blair moved down, fastening  that devilish mouth to his
nipple, suckling and lapping at it.

     Satisfied he had treated the first nub to the utmost torment, he
kissed his way over to its mate.   As Jim relaxed into the sensations, he
realized he longed to see Blair's beautiful body moving over  him.  He
dismissed the thought just as quickly, realizing that Blair had been
forced to "put on a show"  in bed for far too long. This first time had to
be all about love, and nothing else, and the cover of the  sheet seemed to
be making Blair feel at ease.  There was a whole lifetime to watch Blair,
and  hopefully, as their love grew and matured, and memories of Watson
faded a bit, Blair would feel more  comfortable being watched by the
man who loved him so much.

     Jim reached down and guided Blair's head upward, locking their
mouths together again,  rolling them on their sides.  Holding his lover
firmly in his arms, he kissed his way down Blair's neck  to his shoulders,
then began exploring the soft mat of hair that hid the two little buds of
flesh he  sought.  He smiled against his lover's chest as he heard Blair's
little whimpers of ecstasy as first one,  then the second, nipple rose to
attention under Jim's insistent mouth.

     His hands slid down Blair's back and cupped his firm, rounded
cheeks.  Blair just growled a little and humped against Jim, brushing
their fast-growing erections together.

     "Get me ready?"  Blair asked breathlessly, groping under the
pillows for the lubricant.

     "How about on your side for now?"

     "I want to see you when we make love."

     "Okay.  But if we start out on your back, it's a hard position to
hold for a long time.  I don't  want to put a lot of strain on your side,
baby."  Jim stroked the pink scar from Blair's recent surgery.

     "But when we do it--can I turn over?  I...*need* to see you."

     "You can do anything that feels right to you, sweetheart.  You
don't have to ask."  Jim waited  while Blair shifted onto his right side and
drew his knees up.  Jim spooned himself around the other's  back a
moment and kissed his nape.  "I love you."

     "Love you too,"  Blair whispered back.  Jim could hear the other
man's heartbeat thudding loudly, the understandable anxiety associated
with this act coming to the foreground.

     "If I hurt you, or you change your mind, you just let me know.  I
don't care how far we've gone-okay?"

     "Okay."

     "Try to relax, baby.  You know how much I love you.  It's going
to be good for you from now on, baby.  I promise.  I'm going to touch
you a little, and then try to put my finger in a ways, okay?"

     "Okay."

     Jim coated his finger with the gel and gathering Blair close to
him with one arm around his  middle, he slid down into the valley
between the firm cheeks and felt his way to his lover's center.   He gently
massaged the gel into the little pucker there, happy to hear Blair's
satisfied little grunts.   Adding more lubricant, he finally risked slipping
the tip of his finger past the little ring of muscle.   Blair tensed a
moment, then relaxed as the finger continued its gentle massaging while
Jim was  planting little kisses and nips on Blair's shoulder and neck, his
free hand finding and tweaking Blair's  taut nipples.

     "More,"  Blair panted, finally moving back to meet the motions
of Jim's finger.  Jim slid the  finger in all the way, and stepped up the
pace of its motions.  He buried his face in Blair's neck,  inhaling his
scent and reminding himself how important it was to go slowly.  His
own arousal was  becoming painful, ready to slip into the tight channel
he was so carefully preparing.

     "I'm putting more slippery stuff on now, baby,"  Jim explained as
he withdrew the finger.  "I'm coming back with two. Just relax, and if it
hurts, let me know and I'll stop."

     "Just do it, please, lover."  

     "Since you said 'please'..."  Jim smiled at the ragged little
chuckled from Blair.  He carefully  eased the two fingers inside the
other's body, massaging again, spreading lubricant and trying to relax 
the inner muscles.  He worked the fingers all the way in and brushed a
little nub inside his partner's  body.

     "Oh, God, Jim...  Oh, man..."  Blair must have realized that
vocalization was what had frozen  the delicious movement, so he
hastened to clarify.  "Do it again!  Please!"  Jim retraced his  movements,
brushed the little nub again, and felt Blair's whole body spasm in
reaction, bearing down  on his fingers and moaning out his pleasure. 
Blair's body was opening more and more to him, the  previously taut
muscles relaxing.  With great concern, he slowly withdrew and returned
with three  fingers.

     "It'll feel fuller this time, baby."

     "Just get in there!"  Blair groaned, drawing his knees up as far as
he could.  Jim kissed his  shoulder and obliged, massaging him with
three fingers.  His free hand found Blair's hardness and  began pumping. 
"Oh, Jim...  Oh my God!!!!"  Blair yelled, writhing with pleasure as Jim
found his  prostate over and over, pumping the straining erection at the
same time.  "Please...I want you in me,  lover!"  Blair gasped.

     "Yess,"  Jim sighed into Blair's hair, his own arousal held at bay
as long as possible.  He slowly withdrew the three fingers and coated
himself with the KY.

     "I wanna turn over."  Blair flopped on his back, and Jim moved
between legs Blair spread wide, pulling them up toward his chest,
holding his knees.

     "It's not too late if you-"

     "Oh, God, Jim, please do it!"  Blair gasped breathlessly.  Jim only
spared a moment to drink  in the sight of him there on his back, his legs
drawn up, fully exposed.  It was the most awe-inspiring  sight he'd ever
seen.  He stroked the backs of Blair's thighs lovingly with gentle hands.

     "I've been all over the world, sweetheart.  Seen everything...
perfect sunrises, the blanket of  stars on a clear night in the mountains,
the miracles of nature in the rainforest...  Dear God, I've never  seen
anything half as beautiful as you are right at this moment.  I love you,
baby."

     "Show me?"  Blair asked through tears of love.

     Jim positioned himself at Blair's opening, and slowly began
sliding inside his lover's body.  He  paused at several intervals to give
Blair's muscles time to adjust, relax and accept him.  He guided  Blair's
legs around his waist, taking some of the strain of holding the position
onto himself.  As he  sheathed himself completely, Blair's eyes, that had
drifted shut moments ago, opened as he adjusted  to the bulk inside him. 
He blinked a few times, and Jim could feel the muscles relaxing a little
around  him.  Then they clenched very deliberately, dragging a groan out
of Jim.

     "Little demon,"  he grunted, beginning a slow, rocking motion,
leaning forward to capture  Blair's mouth, their tongues imitating what
their bodies were doing.  His hand kept a steady rhythm  on Blair's cock,
pumping it firmly while he plundered the willing mouth that received
him.  "My beautiful lover," Jim said against Blair's mouth, then started a
little chant in time with their movements.  "Love you, love you, love
you..."  He could see tears seeping out of Blair's eyes at the same time he
was groaning with pleasure.

     Jim was so close to completion that it only took a few gentle
thrusts to push him over the edge.   He came as Blair did, the spasmodic
pulsing of his lover's passage forcing his climax out of him as  they came
almost together, calling each other's names.

     He carefully moved back, withdrawing from Blair's warmth,
easing the strong legs back down  to the mattress, watching Blair's sated,
sweat-dampened face to see any traces of pain or discomfort.   All he
saw was a look of contentment.

     "Are you okay, sweetheart?"  He lay beside Blair, gathering the
sweaty body to his, loving  the feeling of their arms and legs twining and
tangling as they lay facing each other.  He wasn't sure  how to react when
Blair began to cry softly against his chest.  "Did I hurt you, baby?"  he
asked  softly, rubbing the smooth back slowly.

     "I never...knew it could...feel like that.  It was so beautiful."

     "I never felt this good with anyone else before, sweetheart. Thank
you."  Jim kissed the disheveled curls, cuddling the beloved body closer.

     "It didn't hurt,"  Blair murmured, sounding surprised.  With a
pang of sadness, Jim realized  that with Blair's prior experiences,
anything short of nailing him ruthlessly to the mattress would have 
seemed shockingly easy.

     "It doesn't have to.  I love you so much, Blair.  Nothing would be
worth hurting you."

     "Did I do okay?" Blair asked hesitantly.  Jim's heart twisted at the
uncertain little question.

     "You were beautiful, sweetheart.  You gave me the most amazing
experience I ever had.  And  I'll tell you a secret--the earth really *did*
move this time."  He smiled as he kissed Blair's cheek  softly.  "Yeah,
you did okay."

     "I don't want you to think you did anything wrong, but I can't help
it."  Blair started crying  in earnest then, sobs that seemed to rattle his
entire body.  "It's just...I love you so much...and it's  so...good with us."

     "It's perfect with us.  Perfect and forever.  Have a good cry,
sweetheart.  I understand.  Get  it all out.  Just know that nothing that
happened with him was your fault, and it doesn't change how  beautiful
and special and dear you are to me."

     "Not even the sick stuff?"

     "Not even the sick stuff, baby.  None of it."
 
     "Love you,"  Blair sobbed into his shoulder.

     "Love you too."

     "Jim?"  Blair seemed to be struggling to regain his voice.

     "What, Chief?"

     "Happy Birthday."

     "Wha--?"  Jim had totally forgotten the significance of the date,
and being on leave from the  department, hadn't even been reminded by
gag gifts from the other guys in the bullpen.  But Blair  remembered. 
And gave him the most magical gift of all.

     "Did you think I'd forget?" Blair pulled back a little, sniffling. 
Between the rigors of sex and the ravages of tears, he looked weary and
bedraggled.  And all that much more beautiful to Jim.

     "Is that why...today?"

     "I wanted us to do it when it was special somehow.  And I needed
to know that you really  wanted me, and that you didn't just feel sorry for
me.  That's why all the questions before."

     "Thank you, sweetheart.  That's the most remarkable gift anyone
could ever give me.  There's only one thing."

     "What?"

     "Will you get me the same thing again next year?" Jim smiled as
he felt Blair really laugh for the first time in a long time.

******

     "Jim, for the last time, I remember your pager number, I have my
cell phone, the battery's  charged, I won't leave this building until you
come and get me--let's see did I forget anything?"

     "I'm driving you crazy,"  Jim responded, a little regret in his
voice.

     "Just a little.  Come on, man.  I'm in my office in the middle of a
whole floor full of faculty members."

     "Only half full.  It's still summer."

     "Look, there are plenty of people around.  And I promise I'll wait
right here until you come back."

     "No hanging around the commons or wandering around campus," 
Jim admonished.

     "I'll be okay.  And no, I won't do any of those normal things."
Blair exhaled loudly.  He knew  Jim was only trying to look out for him,
but Watson was under a restraining order and suspended  from his duties
at Rainier.  If he showed up and pestered Blair, it would mean he'd spend
the last two  weeks before the trial in jail.

     "All right.  I have to meet with Simon and Joel, and then I'm
going to the gym.  You're sure you'll be all right?"

     "I'll be fine.  The semester starts in three weeks, and I'm so far
behind I can't see straight."

     "I still don't understand why you can't do this at home."

     "All my stuff's here."

     "I thought the new computer would mean you wouldn't have to
spend as much time by  yourself in this old mausoleum of a building." 
Jim referred to the new, full-sized computer system  that resided on an
equally deluxe computer table against a wall in the living room.  

     "It does.  I can do a lot of things at the loft instead of hanging
around here.  But there are  some files and stuff I need to get ready for
the semester.  All that stuff's here.  Look, I'll be fine, man.   Go do your
thing."  Blair smiled a little at Jim's concerned expression.  "And I love
the computer.   And you."  Blair slid his arms around the larger man's
middle and rested his head against Jim's chest.

     "I'm sorry I'm being such a pain in the ass about this."  Jim's arms
came up around Blair, pulling him close.

     "I know it's because you love me.  But I'll be fine.  I think we're
just experiencing a little separation anxiety here."

     "I guess we really haven't been separated since I got you back,
have we?"

     "With the possible exception of a few minutes to go to the
bathroom, no."

     "I'm going to miss you."  Jim kissed his forehead.

     "For all three hours you're going to be gone, huh?"

     "Two hours and forty-five minutes too long for me."  He rubbed
noses with Blair and then released his hold.

     "Go.  I'm fine."

     "Call me if you need anything."  Jim moved reluctantly toward
the door, but Blair motioned him to keep going.

     "I'm okay, Jim,"  he said, exasperation in his voice.

     "See ya later, Chief."  He finally went out the door and pulled it
shut behind him.  Blair half  expected him to pop back in and insist he
lock the door to the office, but he heard the familiar  footsteps retreating
down the hall instead.  And felt an irrationally sharp stab of pain at the
separation.

     //Get a grip, Sandburg.  He'll be back in three hours.  You'll go
get some take-outs and cuddle  on the couch and watch TV together,
maybe make out a little... Whoa, you're a goner, man.  You've  got it bad
for that guy.  Yeah, big surprise there.//  

     Blair smiled to himself and started digging through the mountain
of accumulated mail and  other garbage on his desk.  It was good to feel
strong and healthy again, not to mention happy and  loved.  The last time
he'd sat at the desk, he had needed a pillow on the chair, made four trips
to the  bathroom in an hour, and was nursing badly bruised ribs.  He
shuddered at the thought and went back  to his sorting.

     "Long time no see."  

     Blair froze as he recognized the voice.

     "Cat got your tongue, kiddo?"  Watson closed the office door
behind him and turned the lock.  "Behind closed doors together again. 
What do you know about that?"

     "What the hell do you think you're doing?  There's a restraining
order-"

     "Before you lurch for the telephone and call the campus cops, I
have something here you might want to take a look at.  And I have a
little proposition for you."

     "I'm not interested,"  Blair shot back, sounding much braver than
he felt.  //Oh, God, Jim, hear him up here somehow.  Come back!!//

     "I seem to recall you had one of those nifty little TV-VCR things
in this rat's nest  somewhere."  Vince waved a black plastic item around
that looked like a boxed video tape.

     "You better get the hell out of here."

     "Or you'll do what?"  Watson advanced quickly across the office
until he stood towering over  Blair.  The long-sleeved t-shirt he wore
accentuated the bulbous muscles, and his eyes were as harsh  as ever.  "If
I want your ass right there on the desk, you know I can take you."

     "What did you come here for?  Did you forget about the
restraining order?"  Blair forced control into his voice.  //How could I
have ever thought you looked anything like Jim with those cold, dead
eyes?//

     "I guess we know how effective a witness you are, sweetcheeks. 
I'm not too concerned about that restraining order anymore.  I want to
talk about these charges and your testimony.  I would prefer you didn't
entertain any ideas of testifying against me." 

     "I reckon you probably would."  Blair crossed his arms over his
chest, refusing to give Watson  the show of cowering he was working so
hard to get.  "People in hell want ice water, man."

     "You're getting pretty smart-mouthed.  Must be Ellison doesn't
know how to teach you any manners.  I think you remember what
mouthing off to me gets you.  Anyway, I'd just like you to take a look at
this before we finish our chat."

     "The machine's over there."  Blair indicated a small TV-VCR
sitting atop a file cabinet.  Watson calmly strolled over to it and popped
in the tape.

     Blair's heart froze in his chest at the images on the screen.  In
living color, on video tape, was  that magical afternoon the previous
week.  The day they'd made love on Jim's birthday.  The tape  captured
every intimate move, and when the sheet slid off Jim as he rose up over
Blair, the camera  was at the perfect angle to showcase Blair on his back,
thighs spread wide, and finally, the act of  intercourse itself, with all its
undulating, kissing and intimacy.

     "How did you get that tape?"

     "It wasn't all that hard hiding a camera in the bedroom.  And the
cute little girl in the bakery downstairs was very helpful about giving out
that spare key."

     "What 'cute little girl'?  Mrs. Donoghue would never give you
that key, man."  Blair recalled that  Jim left a spare key with the bakery
owner, and very responsible, grand motherly-type woman he'd  known
since he moved into the loft several years earlier.  Blair had used it
himself a couple of times  when he'd forgotten his own keys.

     "Her little helper would.  I thought you'd be interested to know I
could pass for Ellison.  Might turn you on a little, huh?"

     "You could never pass for Jim.  Not with anyone who knew him." 
Blair paused.  He knew there  was a demand coming, so he prompted it. 
"What do you want?"  Blair asked, unable to keep the  tremor out of his
voice.

     "Well, first, you're not going to testify.  Because if you do, copies
of this tape will show up  in the in-baskets of every high-ranking officer
and administrator of the Cascade PD-maybe even in  the mayor's office. 
And that's not even including all the folks here at Rainier that are going
to get a  copy for their viewing pleasure.  Maybe I'll send a few to the
residence halls.  'See Professor  Sandburg on his back getting his ass
fucked'.  Bet it'll be a hotter ticket that the Rainier Film Society's  foreign
film series."  Watson smiled in satisfaction as Blair dropped into his
chair.  "Provided Ellison  doesn't kick you out on that well-used little ass
of yours, and you still have a thing to break up, you're  going to break it
off with him and then you're coming back to me."

     "I'd die first,"  Blair replied with total sincerity.

     "Probably.  But would you let all Ellison's superiors and
coworkers see this little piece of film  noir?  Ellison fucking his male
whore?  That's all you are, you know.  For your fancy degrees and  your
office and your studious little glasses."  Watson leaned on the arms of
Blair's chair, his breath  blowing against Blair's face as he spoke. 
"You're still a dirty little whore and you're nothing better."   He leaned in
still closer.  "What you need is a good hard fuck to put you in your place. 
Not that  ballet dancing Ellison was doing with you.  Your first night
home is going to be a night to remember.   Now unless you want this
tape to be the hottest video in Cascade VCR's everywhere, you'll do as 
you're told."  Watson straightened up, leaving a pale, shaking Blair in his
chair.

     "You won't get away with this,"  he finally managed.

     "Maybe not.  But if I go down, so does Ellison.  And I still
haven't forgotten about kicking  his ass once and for all.  He's sticking
his dick in my territory.  Such as it is," he concluded, giving  Blair a
disparaging once-over.  "Weigh your options carefully, * sweetheart *. 
I'd hate to have to make a trip to LA to get to know your mommy better. 
Hope she's a better fuck than you, you sorry ass little bitch."  With a slam
of the door, he was gone, and Blair was alone.

     He pulled himself out of the chair and removed the tape from the
VCR.  Tears burned hot  behind his eyes, and finally spilled.  The most
beautiful, intimate, magical moment of his life and  somehow Vince had
managed to turn it into something cheap and ugly.  He let loose with the
first  of many wracking sobs then, curling up against the file cabinet,
crying alone just the way he was used  to doing it.  

     //I can't go back to him.  God forgive me for not being strong
enough to do it for Jim, or for Naomi's safety, but I can't live that way
anymore.//  He worked at tearing apart the tape he had in his hands,
unable to stifle  his tears while he did it.

     //I can't live with Vince.  I can't refuse him or he'll ruin Jim,
humiliate him.  Dear God, there's  nowhere left to go.//  He tried to take a
breath, pull his tears under some slight control.  

     //There's still one way out.  You realized it while you were with
Vince.  And it's still the only  way to get away from him.  To leave Jim
with some kind of life, to leave Naomi safe...  And it would rob Vince of
all his  power.  And maybe God can forgive someone who has no other
choices.//

     Strangely calm, Blair rose from his hunch on the floor, and
dropped the tattered remains of the tape into the wastebasket.  

******

     Blair felt bad to give Jim the silent treatment through dinner, but
he didn't dare open his mouth  to speak of anything serious, or even to
return an "I love you".  The thought of leaving Jim was so 
overwhelmingly painful he couldn't think about it or anything else.  He
wanted to cry for the pain Jim would feel at first.  The loneliness he was
inflicting on this man who had been so hesitant to entrust his heart to
anyone again ate at his soul.  

     //God, Jim, I love you so much.  I'll always be with you.  Please
know that no matter how  many years pass or how long I've been gone,
I'll always be with you.  You were my dream come true,  if only for a
few beautiful weeks.  I've had all the love and the happiness I could ever
wish for in just  that one time we really made love.  I'll carry that
memory with me, in my heart, as I journey to the  other side, and
whatever waits there.  I hope I can wait for you. I hope there really is a
hereafter, or  reincarnation--or something. Maybe you'll meet a nice
woman and get married and have children and  maybe you'll have one
incorrigible, curly-headed brat you just can't figure out, who'll end up
being  your favorite...//

     "Blair?  What is it?"  Jim's words made Blair realize that there
were tears in his eyes and an  immovable lump in his throat.  "Talk to
me, sweetheart."  Jim reached across the table in the crowded  Italian
restaurant and took his hand.  Right there in front of God and everybody. 


     "I'm--I'm just tired, I guess."

     "Do you feel all right?"

     "Yeah.  I'm just ready to go home I think."

     "You look like you're about due to cry, Chief.  Why don't you tell
me the truth?"

     "I'm just worried about the trial."  Blair was calm enough with his
lie that even a sentinel  would believe it.  He'd made the best decision for
Jim, and even if it ripped both their hearts out  initially, it would be for
the best in the long run.

     "Let's head home then.  My pasta's cold anyway."  Jim smiled
easily and flagged down the waiter for the bill.

******

     "Jim?"

     "What, Chief?"  Jim was engrossed in a ball game on TV that
was bound to go into overtime.

     "Would you mind if I slept in my old room tonight?  I'm really
sleepy, and you'll probably be a while with the game."

     "I can come up now if you want."  Jim looked over the back of
the couch to see Blair standing in his boxers and a tank shirt by the
doorway of his old room.

     "You said yourself it was a great game.  Um, I just kind of need a
little time alone."

     "Sure, baby.  Whatever you want.  If you change your mind,
come up and join me, huh?" 

     "Yeah.  Okay."  Their eyes locked for a moment.  "I love you,
Jim.  With all my heart."

     "I love you too.  Do I get a kiss goodnight, at least?"

     "Sure,"  Blair responded softly, forcing a smile.  //A kiss
goodbye.//

     "You smell so good,"  Jim growled as he pulled the smaller body
into his lap and nosed the soft curls.  "Sure you don't want to reconsider
about tonight?"

     "I'm sure."  //I'm sure I'm doing the right thing.  The only path I
have left, and I have to travel  it alone.//  He lowered his lips to meet
Jim's, and they shared a prolonged, but strangely gentle, kiss.   "You've
made me so happy, Jim.  You're the best thing that ever happened to me. 
Always remember  that, huh?"

     "Sounds like I'm getting a 'Dear Jim' letter, here."

     "Not at all,"  Blair replied, smiling sadly.  "I just worry
sometimes that you don't realize how much I love you.  That you're my
whole world."

     "I know that, sweetheart.  I feel the same way about you.  I just
haven't found the right words for it." He cuddled Blair close.

     "Good night, lover.  I love you always." Blair planted a kiss on
Jim's forehead this time, and extricated himself from the warmth of the
big arms that had held him.

     "Sleep well, baby.  If you need me, just whisper my name.  I'll
hear you."

     "I know.  'night, Jim."  Blair turned and made his way toward the
bedroom, and with a deep  breath, pulled the french doors shut for the
last time.  The pills were on the night stand.  He would  listen for Jim to
go upstairs, and when he felt his sentinel was sleeping, he'd take the
pills...and go to  sleep.

******

     Jim tossed and turned in the big bed alone.  Not only did he hate
sleeping without the warm,  soft, fragrant bundle of Blair in his arms, but
there was something not right about the familiar  heartbeat downstairs. 
When he tuned into it fully, it seemed slower--no--downright sluggish.

     Looking at the digital clock readout of 2:35 a.m., Jim got out of
bed and made his way  stealthily downstairs to check on Blair.  Even if
he did happen to wake his lover, he felt confident  Blair would be
forgiving--maybe even welcoming--of his intrusion.

     He carefully opened the doors to the bedroom and looked in at
Blair.  He only wasted a split second assessing the sluggish heart rate,
the unnatural depth of Blair's sleep before he grabbed his  lover by the
shoulders and shook him ruthlessly.

     "Jim, don't... "  was the breathless response as eyes fluttered
marginally and then closed again.

     "Blair-what the hell--?!" Jim turned to see the empty pill bottle
tumble to the floor.  "Oh shit."   He scooped Blair out of bed and hauled
him into the bathroom, ruthlessly jamming a finger down his  throat. 
"Come on, vomit!  Give it up, Chief!"  Finally there was a strangled gag,
and Jim held his  partner over the toilet while he emptied the contents of
his stomach into the head.

     "J-im,"  he gasped, falling against Jim when the vomiting was
over.  "You should've let me go,"  he moaned in a raspy voice.

     "Come on.  We're going to the hospital."

     "No."

     "That wasn't a question."  He gathered up his partner and carried
him to the couch, where he  left him momentarily to grab a t-shirt and
shorts.  He snatched a blanket off the bed upstairs and when  he returned
to Blair's curled form, wrapped him in it and carried him out to the truck.

     "Please, Jim...let me go,"  he whimpered as he was shoved into
the passenger seat and strapped in.

     "Hang on, baby.  You're going to be okay."

     "Sorry,"  he murmured.  Jim reached over and stroked the soft
curls gently.

     "I love you, sweetheart.  Hang in there.  Everything'll be okay."

     Jim waited an unbearable length of time while the medical team
finished the job of pumping  Blair's stomach and got him settled in a
room.  He used his badge to claim that he was the cop  assigned to Blair,
who was a protected witness in an upcoming trial.  That way, he was
given full  access to Blair's room, 24 hours a day.

     When he next saw his lover, Blair looked much the same as he
had when he was comatose  on Golden.  Oxygen ran through a clear, thin
tube in Blair's nose, and a heart monitor kept time with  the precious
heartbeat that was sounding closer to normal, if a little rapid.

     Two exhausted blue eyes drifted open to greet him.

     "Hey there, beautiful,"  Jim smiled as he pulled up a chair near
the bed and stroked Blair's hair back from his forehead.

     "I really messed up, didn't I?"  Blair asked weakly.

     "You're going to be okay.  That's the most important thing.  But I
do want to know why.   When you can tell me."  He took Blair's hand
and kissed it, then held it against his face.  "Dear God,  Blair, I'd die
without you.  You know that." 

     "You'd be better off."

     "Don't you ever dare say that again, Sandburg.  I mean it."

     "I'm too tired tonight.  I can't explain."

     "You don't have to.  I'll be right here.  Whatever it is, Blair, let
me help you.  Let me in.  I love you.  Don't shut me out."

     "Tomorrow,"  Blair whispered, his eyes drifting shut again.

     "Tomorrow and a whole lifetime of tomorrows.  Promise me that,
sweetheart.  Promise me a lot of tomorrows."  Jim raised up enough to
place a gentle kiss on Blair's lips.

     "I promise,"  he murmured back before drifting off to sleep.

******

     The staff psychiatrist at the hospital made his obligatory visits
with Blair.  Suicide attempts  were not just sent out the door with an
admonition not to try it again.  The fact that Blair fluidly  talked his way
through a couple of counseling sessions, convincing the doctor that the
suicide attempt  had been an ill-conceived reaction to all the stress of his
ordeal and the trial, and that he had  purposely done it in such a way that
he would be found in time, unnerved Jim but didn't surprise him.   The
day Sandburg couldn't talk his way out of something would be the day he
truly was, in fact, dead.

     Jim finally confronted Blair with his own questions, and found
his partner resigned to the interrogation.

     "I can't testify, Jim.  That's final."

     "Whoa, hold on there, Chief.  You can't be serious?"

     "I am.  I'm not going to testify.  And when I reached that
decision, I didn't see any way that you'd still be able to go on loving me
knowing I backed out on the case."

     "I told you before--"

     "I know what you said, but I--"

     "You're lying, sweetheart."  Jim moved out of his chair and sat on
the side of the hospital bed  "Try the truth."

     "Not here.  Look, they're going to release me this afternoon. 
When we get home, okay?"

     "Okay.  But then no more stalling."

     "No more stalling."

     After dealing with the paperwork, Jim drove home in virtual
silence as his partner brooded in the passenger seat.

     Jim's patience was frayed to a mere thread by the time Blair had
settled on the couch with a  cup of tea Jim made for him.  His stomach
was still understandably upset, and the tea would soothe  it a bit.

     "I want some answers, Chief."  Jim sat at the opposite end of the
couch.

     "I was trying to do what was best for you--"

     "Don't hand me that!"  Jim was on his feet, pacing angrily.  "How
in the hell could your death  be best for me?  Did you ever stop to think
what I was going to feel like--finding you dead in your  bed this
morning?  Of all the goddamned stupid things to do!"

     "Are you finished?"  Blair's voice was flat and emotionless.  It's
firmness caught Jim by  surprise.  "You know, Vince used to yell at me
all the time.  It was a good way to shut me up because  he knew I'd be
afraid of what was coming.  I didn't appreciate it from him and I don't
appreciate it  from you.  As a matter of fact, I've just about fucking had it
with getting pushed around and chewed out and controlled!"  Blair's
voice rose considerably.  "I damn near offed myself because Vince
backed me into a corner, and I'll be damned if I cower in one now
because you're pissed off!"  he shouted back at Jim, who stared at him,
still shocked.  "I think you're forgetting who was the one here with the
tubes up his nose.  It sure as hell wasn't you.  I was trying to let you off
the hook, and if  you'd had any fucking brains at all, you'd have let me
die last night."

     "I don't even believe this conversation."

     "Probably not, because I'm not shaking and crying in the corner."

     "You're comparing me to Watson now?"

     "In just this one way--when you get your 'stern voice' with me,
I'm supposed to back down and do as I'm told."

     "Blair, I know this isn't about me.  When you're really pissed off
and frustrated with Watson,  you take it out on me.  That's fine, I can
take it.  But I *do* deserve an explanation of why you tried  to kill
yourself.  Because, you see, if you were anyone else but who you are,
you'd be dead right now.   I'd kill any bastard who killed you or gave it a
good shot.  Now I want to know the real story--not  a smokescreen of
comparing me to Watson so *I'll* back down."

     "I wasn't doing that."  Blair slumped further in the cushions.

     "Yes, Blair, you were."  Jim sat on the couch again.  "I dropped
you off at Rainier yesterday,  and you were fine.  I pick you up and
you're weepy and depressed and tense and all of a sudden you  want to
sleep in your old room.  Then you gobble up enough tranquilizers to put
half of Cascade  under for a week.  Now something happened in that
three hours.  I want to know what it was."

     "Vince came to the office," Blair stated quietly.

     "That bastard.  Why didn't you say something?"

     "He wants me to not testify...and to--to move back in with him."

     "He's crazier than I thought.  What did he do?  Did he hurt you?" 
Jim scooted over close to where Blair sat.  "He didn't touch you, did he?" 
By Jim's gentle tone of voice, Blair knew what kind of touch he meant. 

     "No.  Jim, he-he-he taped us," Blair finally blurted, the threat of
tears in his voice.

     "Taped us?"

     "On your birthday," Blair managed, breaking down on the last
word.  Jim gathered his lover in his arms and stroked his back, rocking
slightly.

     "Shhh.  Everything'll be okay, sweetheart.  Just try to calm down
a little and tell me what happened."

     "It was all there...every move...he taped us...when we made love."

     "There has to be a proposed deal here somewhere."  Jim
tightened his hold, keeping Blair  sheltered in a firm embrace.  "You
don't testify and he doesn't rent a screen at the Cascade Quad  Cinema,
right?"

     "He said he'd...give a copy...to everybody...important at the PD,
and the mayor's office."

     "I still don't understand why you tried to take your own life over
this, baby.  I mean, it's horrible and it's upsetting, but even so--"

     "Don't you get it?  You're never going to have any kind of life as
long as you have me in it.  He's always going to be there."

     "You had to know I wouldn't let you go back to him.  I promised I
wouldn't let you, even if you tried--remember?"

     "I didn't know where to turn.  I thought if I was out of the picture
altogether, he wouldn't have any reason to harass you.  And I'm so
damned tired, Jim.  I've been under his thumb for so long   I just want it
over with."  Blair burrowed deeper into the embrace, as if he wanted to
crawl into Jim's  skin.

     "It will be soon."

     "I was really scared, Jim.  The things he said to me...just like
before."

     "Look at me."  Jim took a hold of Blair's face in both hands and
held it only inches from his  own.  "I love you.  Any life I could have
without you in it, I don't want.  You * are * my life-got it?"

     "Got it,"  Blair responded, smiling a little.

     "Next time something insurmountable comes up, you're going to
let me in on it, right?"

     "Right."

     "If you ever pull a stunt like this again, Chief, you're in deep
trouble, hear me?"

     "I hear you."

     "Hear something else.  I may get mad and yell and throw things
and even say some things that  hurt you, but I will never hit you.  You
don't have to be afraid of me or my temper.  Understood?"

     "Understood."

     "How did he make the tape?"

     "He said he got the key from the girl who works for Mrs.
Donoghue downstairs.  That's my fault  too.  He made me go in there
with him one morning to get bagels and she asked me if I was there to 
get my key.  I said no, that I didn't live upstairs anymore, but he had
already seen her going to the  register to get it out of the drawer."

     "That's not your fault.  It just happened."  Jim took a deep breath. 
"Now, the first order of  business is getting those tapes back from
Watson.  Any thoughts on where he might stash them?"  

     "He has a rented storage place."  Blair looked down at his lap as
they parted.  "He keeps some stuff there."

     "Blair--sweetheart, what's wrong?"

     "This isn't the first time he's made tapes."

     "He taped you, didn't he?"  Jim reached out and laid a gentle hand
on the side of Blair's head.

     "Only a few times.  I never saw the tapes, and I know he stashed
them somewhere, because  I searched every inch of the apartment after
he left for work one day.  I wanted to get rid of those damn tapes.  I
didn't care if he beat the hell out of me for it.  I didn't want anybody to
see those."

     "How did you find out about the storage space?"

     "I found the key.  It was taped under a shelf in the bedroom
closet."

     "Did you go there?"

     "No," Blair responded, shaking his head, smiling a little.  "I got
caught."

     "With the key?"

     "Yeah.  I lied real smoothly.  I said I was cleaning--he doesn't
know me well enough to know  how unlikely that is," he said, smiling a
little at Jim's chuckle.  "I said I had this idea to take everything  out of
the closet and vacuum it and wash the shelves.  I had most of his stuff
pulled out in the middle  of the room, so I had to say something.  Oddly
enough, he bought it.  He was pissed off at me for  finding the key, and
he grabbed me by the arm and told me if I ever rooted through his stuff
again  when he wasn't home he'd beat the shit out of me.  Then he went
to the kitchen, grabbed a beer and  sat in the living room going over
some paperwork for the health education class he taught.  I was  shaking
so hard in that bedroom I almost wet my pants.  I thought he was gonna
kill me."

     "What did he do with the key?"

     "He took it with him, and later that night, I saw him tape it under
the lid of the toilet tank.   He thought I was sleeping, but I risked it to get
up and look out the bedroom door.  I knew he was  about due to stash the
key somewhere else, and I wanted to know where."

     "Which storage company?"

     "Whiting's, over on Hanover Street."

     "Okay," Jim began looking at his watch.  "How late is he at the
U?"

     "Today's Wednesday?"  Blair thought a moment.  "He's teaching a
summer session of the  health ed. class, and that doesn't get out until
four.  Then he works with the wrestling team for a  couple hours.  Since
I'm not there to cook, my guess would be he'd eat out."

     "It's two-thirty now.  Look, I'm going to go get that storage key. 
Do you still have a key to Watson's place?"

     "Yeah, but, Jim--"

     "No buts.  Give me the key."  Jim waited as Blair hesitated a
moment, then went back to his old room and soon returned with a house
key.

     "Jim, please don't--"

     "Give me the key, Blair."  Jim held out his hand, and Blair
reluctantly placed the key there.  "I'm going to go get the storage key,
and then I'm going to get back any of the videos that son of a  bitch ever
made--of you or us.  For phase two of this operation, I'm going to need
your help."

     "This is illegal, man.  You could get arrested."

     "Look, I've had about all I can take of playing this by the book. 
I've watched you turned on  the spit and humiliated by all this for the last
time.  Now, I'm going to get Watson's little video  collection and destroy
it.  Then, I'm going to do the same thing with Watson."

     "What are you planning?"

     "I want the bastard to do something to ruin his defense, and get
his ass tossed back in jail until  the trial.  Once he finds his tapes are
gone, he's going to blame you, and come looking for you."  

     "So far, I'm not liking this plan, Jim."

     "You won't be in any real danger, sweetheart.  We're going to lure
him over here.  You know  he won't be able to resist coming here to
confront you about the tapes.  We just have to be sure he  sees me
leave--and is convinced I won't be back for a while.  As soon as he gets
here, I'll be right behind him."

     "I don't know about this, Jim."

     "I do.  This is beyond the law now.  When he made that
tape--hell, when he did any of the sick  things he did--he stepped over
the line into a territory that isn't covered by the legal system.  He 
tampered with you.  That's one thing I won't tolerate."  Jim headed for
the door, then pulled out his gun and handed it to Blair, who'd followed
him.  "If he shows up before I get back, don't hesitate to use this.  And if
you have to shoot the fucker, page me.  Don't call the PD.  I don't want
you arrested by some over-eager rookie."

     "Jim, I don't want to--"

     "Blair, just do it."  Jim gave Blair's lips a quick kiss and then was
out the door and on his way.

******

     Jim parked the truck one street over from Vine Court.  Dressed in
jeans, a dark jacket and a  baseball cap, he didn't look much different
from how Vince Watson himself would look to his  neighbors.  They
were the same height, of similar build, and like Vince, Jim had a key to
let himself  in the house without any suspicious behavior.

     He unlocked the side door off the driveway and went inside the
apartment.  A quick sensory  sweep of the place told him that no one was
home, just as Blair had predicted.  He didn't lose any  time going to the
toilet tank and locating the key taped under its lid.   

     He paused in his stride down the hall to look in at the bedroom. 
The bed was neatly made,  and there were a few discarded sweat clothes
on the floor near an overstuffed chair.  Jim swallowed  when he thought
of some of the things Blair had been subjected to in this room.  His
sentinel sight  picked up scratches on the brass headboard, most likely
from the handcuffs.  Turning away from the  room quickly, he hurried
down the hall and back to the side door.  Checking to be sure no one was 
outside who might stop him or speak to him, thinking he was Watson,
Jim locked the door behind  him with his leather-gloved hand, then
thrust his hands into his pockets.  A man wearing leather  gloves in
August could certainly be considered suspicious.

     Jim was relieved that the storage facility Watson used was self
serve, and all he had to do was  unlock the gate to enter.  Getting past a
guard would have been another obstacle, as the man would  have then
seen Jim's face up close.  As it was, he was slipping in again without the
truck, which was  left parked in a grocery store lot two blocks away.

     Watson had a storage room the size of a single car garage.  Most
of the items were the usual  stuff of storage facilities--i.e., things people
should really throw out but generally didn't.  There were  cartons of
books and household accessories, suggesting Watson must have lived in
a larger apartment  or possibly a house prior to moving into the Vine
Court address.  There was an old bike with a flat  tire, some old exercise
equipment, and a couple of surfboards, which Jim noted with marginal
interest.   He was shocked to find a TV-VCR with a 13-inch screen
hidden under a tarp on one of shelves.  It  was plugged in to an outlet in
the wall.

     He dug feverishly through every carton, until finally, buried
under some old clothes, he found thirteen video tapes in black plastic
cases.

     A part of him wanted to just destroy the tapes without ever
viewing them.  And he knew that  was the right thing to do, out of
respect for Blair's privacy.  At the same time, he wanted to be sure  he
had the right tapes.   He opened the first case, turned on the TV-VCR
and loaded the tape.  This  was the footage of the two of them together,
and despite his inclination to watch it out of simple  curiosity as to what
they looked like together from a third person perspective, he turned it
off.  There  was something about viewing it that seemed to mock the
sacredness of the moment.

     He checked the next nine tapes and found the same thing.  Ten
copies of the blackmail tape  had been stashed here for future use.  That
left three.  They could be three more copies of the same  tape...or they
could be the tapes of Blair that Watson had made.  Jim took a deep
breath and loaded  the first of these final tapes.  His stomach turned and
something in his heart twisted when he saw the  first images on the
screen.  

     He knew he shouldn't be surprised by watching Watson torturing
Blair, given all he'd heard  in Beverly Sanchez's office, but seeing it in
living color was almost more than he could endure.  There  was no way
to help the naked, too-thin Blair who was handcuffed to the bed, face
down, his back,  buttocks and thighs striped by the whip Watson was still
wielding, criss-crossing the marks.  

     Jim made the mistake of turning up the volume.  Though the
sound wasn't wonderful, his ears  could easily pick up Blair's crying and
little pleas for mercy, the snap of the whip marring the soft flesh, and
Watson's own vocalizations, which ranged from aroused groans to
various taunts directed  at his captive.  Stripped down to briefs, the big
man was sporting a healthy erection.  Jim turned off  the tape.  He knew
he couldn't watch the rest of it, which would undoubtedly be one of
Watson's violent violations of the precious body that Jim loved more
than any other in the world.

     The next two tapes were no more pleasant, though they were
each slightly different.  All of  them were made when Watson was using
one of his new "toys".  Jim could endure no more than a  few seconds of
each to determine that they were all, in fact, tapes of Blair that should be
destroyed.

     He loaded the tapes back in the box, turned off the TV-VCR,
re-covered it with the tarp and  then hurried out of the storage unit.  He
carried the carton as non-chalantly as possible as he strolled  down the
sidewalk along the busy street, on his way back to the grocery store lot
where he'd left his  truck.  As he loaded the tapes in the back, all he
wanted to do was drive straight home and gather  Blair in his arms and
make love to him the right way... to stroke that healed, unmarred skin
and leave  trails of kisses over all the places Watson had left welts and
bruises.  He finally won the battle he was  fighting with the threat of
tears, and dialed the loft number from his cell phone.

     "Jim?"  Blair blurted into the phone, pouncing on it after the first
ring.

     "It's me, sweetheart.  I've got the groceries, and I'll be home as
soon as I drop off the  recycling."  Jim figured his bright partner would
catch the double meaning, and understand that he  didn't want to discuss
the situation in the correct terms over the phone.

     "Get home soon, okay, lover?  I miss you."  There was a plaintive
quality to Blair's voice that threatened Jim's tenuous hold on his
emotions.

     "Miss you too, baby.  When I get home, I'll show you how much,
huh?"

     "I'll be waiting.  I love you."

     "Love you too.  See ya soon."  Jim turned off the phone and
headed for a remote area on the wrong side of the tracks.  He had a little
trash can bonfire planned.

     ******

     Jim had barely walked through the door of the loft when he had a
warm, clinging armload.   He kicked the door shut as he held the smaller
body tightly against his.

     "The tapes are toast, baby.  All of them."

     "You saw them?"

     "Only enough to know I was destroying the right stuff.  I didn't
watch any more than I had to."

     "You saw the ones he made of me?"  Blair kept his face buried
against Jim's shoulder.

     "Only a few seconds of each," he lied.  He'd watched more than
that of the first one, drawn  to the sheer horror of what he was seeing. 
"Let it go, Chief.  It doesn't matter anymore.  They're destroyed."

     "How can you even stand to touch me after what you saw?"

     "I saw you in pain, being violated.  Watson's the one who has
plenty to be ashamed of.  Not you."

     "Now what?"  Blair pulled back and looked up at him.

     "Now, I want to take you upstairs and make love to you.  Because
I want to show you how  much I love every inch of you.  I want to make
you feel so good you'll forget you were ever in pain."

     Blair said nothing, just nodded a wordless consent.  Jim started
toward the stairs and held out  his hand.  Blair took it and followed Jim,
smiling.  Sweeping Blair up and carrying him was taking  away his
choice.  Jim recognized that and simply led him upstairs, leaving him
totally able to stop or  turn back if he chose.

     As soon as they reached the head of the stairs, Jim lowered his
mouth to Blair's, his tongue  gently seeking an invitation into the wet
warmth that waited there.  Blair opened to him easily, and  the kiss
deepened as Blair's arms slipped around his back, hands grasping at the
fabric of his shirt.   Jim slid his hand into the silky curls and used the
other arm to pull Blair tightly against him.

     They tumbled onto the bed together, lips parting and sharing a
little chuckle at their somewhat klutzy and unplanned fall on the
mattress.  

     "Let me love you, sweetheart,"  Jim whispered, lightly kissing
each of Blair's eyelids, the tip of his nose, his chin, and finally, his lips.

     "Yes,"  Blair murmured back in response.  Jim could feel a
laxness in his lover's muscles. It  was a level of relaxation and comfort
with their loving he hadn't felt from Blair before.  His partner  was still
haunted by the demons of Watson's abuse, but they were losing a little of
their hold on him  now.

     Jim slowly unbuttoned the short-sleeved shirt Blair wore, kissing
each little bit of revealed  flesh.  He finally parted the sides of the fabric
and paid homage to the expanse of chest that was  exposed.  He kissed
his way slowly through the soft hair, licking and nipping a little at the
small nubs  he found hiding there.  Pushing the shirt off Blair's shoulders
as the other raised a bit to aid him in  removing it, Jim buried his face in
his favorite spot-where Blair's neck flowed into his shoulder, and  his
scent and the scent of his hair and shampoo blended together.  He
worked his way from one side of Blair's throat to the other, over his
shoulders, under his arms, then back along the little path of hair to his
navel.  The only sound in the loft was the soft suckling noises Jim was
making or the occasional groan of pleasure from his lover.

     Straightening up a moment, Jim discarded his own shirt and then
descended on Blair again,  claiming his mouth in a passionate kiss,
relishing the warmth and sensations of Blair's chest against  his, feeling
the beloved heart thudding in time with his own.

     He slid back down to kiss and nip at Blair's stomach, drawing
occasional giggles along with  groans of pleasure.  Jim smiled when he
hit something that was a "tickle zone" rather than an  erogenous zone,
and he heard that delightful little giggle out of Blair.  After all the pain
he'd suffered,  Blair didn't laugh as easily as he used to, and the sound
was music to Jim's ears.

     "Jim, you're killin' me here, man,"  Blair finally panted, wriggling
to indicate the tautness of his pants.

     "Hang on, baby."  Jim carefully unzipped Blair's pants and with a
cooperative movement from  an anxious Blair, slid the pants and boxers
off in one smooth glide.  "I love your smell, sweetheart."   Jim illustrated
his comment by burying his nose in the wiry hair of Blair's groin, kissing
his way to the  crease where thigh joined body, urging Blair's legs apart
to give him better access to reach all these  musky, secret places with
lips and tongue.

     "J-im... oh, man, so good,"  Blair murmured, hips bucking
slightly as the very obvious erection  waited impatiently for attention. 
The little gasps and whimpers he was emitting spurred Jim to  continue
this intimate exploration of his lover's body.

     He encouraged Blair's legs upward, resting the strong thighs on
his shoulders as he dipped  below the straining arousal to slowly and
maddeningly suck at the ovals there.  He smiled as he  withdrew, to kiss
and suck at the tender skin of his lover's perineum.

     "Jim...oh, man...I'm gonna come..."  Blair managed to gasp.

     "I'm not done yet, baby.  Pull your knees up for me, sweetheart." 
Blair complied, obviously  expecting Jim to enter him.  He moaned
luxuriously at the sensation that came in place of the  anticipated one. 
Jim's tongue wetly lapped the little pucker, then began darting in and out
in a  maddening rhythm.  Occasionally, the demon tongue strayed to one
side or the other, nipping and  kissing at the tender underside of Blair's
cheeks.

     When Blair was moaning steadily, with both hands gripping the
sheets in white knuckled  clutches, Jim ceased his rimming and after
drawing his tongue in one long sweep up the underside of  Blair's shaft,
took the now-painful erection into his mouth and suckled it.  Within
moments, Blair  cried out his name and spurted his completion into his
lover's waiting throat.  Jim finally let the limp  organ slip from his
mouth, planting a kiss on it and sliding up the bed to pull Blair into his
arms.  

     After sharing a prolonged kiss, Jim felt a hand working busily at
unfastening the jeans that  were becoming devices of torture rather than
a simple piece of clothing.  Blair roused from his  aftermath to grasp the
jeans and boxers with both hands and slide them down the long legs and
toss  them on the floor with the flourish of an experienced stripper.  Jim
had to chuckle a bit.

     The chuckle melted into a groan of pleasure as Blair's hot mouth
closed over the engorged  shaft.  His motions were a little tentative at
first, but when he had the larger man writhing and panting  his name, he
became more aggressive, working the base with a skillful hand and
concentrating the  suction and motion of his tongue closer to the head.  

     "Blair...baby...oh, God..."  Jim panted, feeling the storm building,
and finally releasing it into  the waiting mouth that diligently swallowed
every drop, kissing and licking the relaxed organ before  scooting back
up into Jim's arms.

     The two men lay there a few minutes, tangled together, sated and
content in each other's arms. 

     As Blair moved and purred a bit against him, Jim wondered how
anyone could have treated  him the way Watson had.  How could anyone
want to make him scream out in pain, or want to watch  the welts rise on
the soft skin Jim was now stroking so lovingly?

     "You're awfully quiet," Blair finally commented.  "That
was...mind-blowing."

     "Good choice of words, baby.  I think I've found my favorite
flavor."  Jim kissed a nearby temple.  

     "Nobody's ever...I mean, when you put your tongue there...oh,
man,"  Blair concluded, shaking his head a little.

     "Liked that, did you?"  Jim asked with a smile in his voice.

     "It made me feel...I don't know.  I've felt so damned...*used*
since I was with Vince.  Sort  of dirty about myself.  I guess I was
thinking--not that I was thinking too much--but anyhow, I was  thinking
that if you could do that for me, maybe I wasn't as gross as I feel
sometimes."

     "There's nothing gross about you, baby.  I love every part of you."

     "I love you."  Blair tightened his hold, and Jim mirrored the
gesture.  

     "I love you too.  And I'm pretty fond of that mouth of yours, too." 

     "I loved making you feel good."  Blair started trailing little kisses
along Jim's throat.

     "Easy, sweetheart.  We don't have time to get going again."

     "What?"

     "Remember the plan?"

     "You didn't clue me in on phase two yet."  Blair started kissing
his way toward a nipple, but Jim stopped him with a gentle hand on each
side of his head.

     "That's what we have to do next."

     "Damn."

     "I hear that, baby.  Come on.  Let's go grab a shower and then
we'll talk."

     "Okay," Blair groaned, taking the hand Jim offered as he rose and 
plodding down the stairs, admiring the view ahead of him.

******

     "We're going to have a fight."  Jim leaned back in the cushions of
the couch, with Blair nestled  against his side.  Despite his suggestion
that they sit at the table, Blair insisted he would think better  on the
couch. //You're obfuscating again, sweetheart// Jim thought fondly.

     "What do you mean?"

     "A nasty one.  Right out on the sidewalk.  Because my guess is
that Watson is going to start watching the place to see me leave."

     "Jim, why don't I just go ahead and testify?  We can still stop this
thing before it goes any further.  Besides, there's still the civil suit
against the department."

     "Because one thing you said was very true--at the most, he isn't
going to get very long in  lock-up.  I want to lure him into doing
something that's going to add onto that in a major way, and  land his ass
back in jail until the trial--and make that damn lawsuit look like the
sorry ass joke that it really is.  You'll still have to testify if all goes
according to plan, but it'll  gain us a more worthwhile result.  Plus, I
want him behind bars until the trial so you can have a little  peace of
mind."  Jim slid a hand into Blair's hair and began lightly massaging his
scalp.  The soft  waves were still damp from the shower, and the smell of
the herbal shampoo tickled Jim's nose.  He'd  had the pleasure of
washing those beautiful locks just moments ago.

     "So what do I have to do?"

     "I'm going to leave the loft with a travel bag, and we're going to
be fighting all the way  downstairs.  Then we're going to finish it on the
sidewalk, and I'm going to get in the truck and take  off."

     "For real?"

     "Just real enough for Watson to get all excited."

     "Isn't this entrapment?"  Blair asked, raising up a little.

     "Doing your homework, eh, Chief?"  Jim kissed his forehead. 
"Yeah, probably.  But only if  we admit to someone that the fight wasn't
real.  Furthermore, he's not going to refer to the tapes  when he's caught. 
They were blackmail evidence, as well as a documentation of some of
the sick  things he did to you.  It'll just look like he was after you to keep
you from testifying."

     "How am I gonna fight him?  He'll kill me if he has the chance."

     "Knowing Watson, he's going to want to have a little fun first."

     "Jim, I don't like this.  I can't face having him climb all over me
even if it *is* for a good reason."

     "He's going to try to do that, but he won't have time.  I'm going to
park the truck a few blocks  away, and then come back.  I'll focus on the
loft, and listen for Watson.  Plus, I'm leaving my back  up revolver with
you.  And I don't want any arguments on that."

     "I don't want to have to shoot anybody, Jim."

     "You shouldn't have to.  I shouldn't have to either.  But we need
to make Watson show his  true colors, and having him come after the
prosecution's key witness shortly before the trial is  perfect."

     "So what are we fighting about?"

     "I don't know.  I doubt he's within earshot, but I guess we can use
the tapes.  Maybe I can be  pissed off that they exist, shouting something
about ending things to save my job--I don't know.  Just  don't take
anything I say seriously."

     "The part about you saving your job probably isn't all false."

     "That's what I'm talking about, sweetheart.  Don't glom onto
something I shout during a staged argument and think it has any real
meaning."

     "Jim, if our relationship goes public, and it will with the trial--"

     "It'll save me the trouble of announcing it."

     "You know what the guys at work'll do to you.  There're already
guys snubbing you because of what happened to me and the fact I'm back
living with you again."

     "Who?"

     "When I went into the bullpen with you that day, there were
plenty of surly faces looking back at us, man."

     "Our friends are still our friends.  The people who acted that way
obviously weren't good  friends.  Plus, some of that may have to do with
the lawsuit.  In any event, I'm not losing sleep over it.  I'm not even sure
staying here in the same old rut is good for  us anymore." 

     "Meaning what?"

     "A new start.  A new life together.  Leaving all the ugly
memories behind.  We could still do  something similar to what we do
now, only we'd work for ourselves.  Maybe a PI business."

     "I could leave Rainier."

     "Is that what you want?"

     "Maybe it's inside me, man.  I just feel...unhappy there.  I guess
it's Vince.  And everyone who  looks at me, even if they're nice to
me--they all look at me funny, like 'there's the guy Watson was  beating
up on'."  

     "We don't have to make any decisions now, sweetheart.  The big
thing to remember is that us being together is number one.  After that,
the other stuff just has to fit in around it."

     "I wish we could stay here like this all night.  I don't want to see
him again, Jim.  I sure as hell don't want to be alone with him."  Blair
nestled deeper into Jim's arms, fastening one hand to the lapel of his
robe.

     "You won't be--not really.  I'll be tuned into what's going on here
as soon as I can make it back on foot.  And I'm not going to let him hurt
you."  Jim gave his partner a tight squeeze.  "If I  could see any other
way to go after him, I would.  The problem is, Chief, Beverly's right
about a few  things.  We have some major strikes against us, even if they
aren't fair.  When he came after you at  the University, he drew the battle
lines.  As long as he stayed the hell away from you and played by  the
rules, I was fine doing that too.  When I think about what he almost
caused...the point is, I didn't  think it was possible for me to want his ass
nailed to the wall moreso than I did before, but I do now."

     "I'm scared.  I don't want to see him, Jim.  There has to be
another way.  I'm sorry to be such a baby about this, but if he...if he tried
anything--"

     "I'll kill him if he touches you."

     "I don't want you to kill anybody, and I don't want him anywhere
near me."

     "Blair, in any other circumstances, I wouldn't push you this way. 
But we're out of choices,  our backs are to the wall and we're running out
of time.  This son of a bitch is going to be a factor  in your life unless we
do something to neutralize him.  Short of killing him in cold blood, this
is the  next best thing.  Though the first option is more appealing."

     "So what do I do after you leave?"

     "Go back upstairs and wait.  Be sure to keep the gun in easy
reach.  If he tries anything or touches you, shoot the bastard.  If you can
keep him talking instead, do it.   If someone has to shoot him,  better it
be me, since I could honestly do it in the line of duty, and for me, it
would most likely end  with an IA investigation."

     "Is that how you want this to end?  You shooting him?"

     "No.  I want it to end that I show up, slap the cuffs on him, haul
his ass downtown and throw  him in a cell until the trial, where Beverly
can take this new offense and use it to show him up for the  menace he is
and get him locked up for about twice as long as he probably would have
been  otherwise.  Blair, as much as I love you, I'm not a vigilante, or he'd
be dead by now."

     "I never thought you were a vigilante, Jim.  I just know how
angry you get at Vince and--"

     "I will be angry at that miserable piece of shit until I take my last
breath--and I don't care if I'm 100 years old when that happens.  I'll never
forget what he did to you."

     "We better get dressed, huh?"

     "Yeah.  It's getting late."

     "You figure he'll come here for sure?"

     "I'd bet a year's salary on it, sweetheart."  Jim leaned forward and
met Blair's lips, licking and  kissing gently at first, then sinking into a
deep, prolonged duel of tongues.  He drew back, and kissed  the end of
Blair's nose.  "It blows me away how much I love you," he rested his
forehead against  Blair's.  The other man smiled in response.

     "Ditto, lover."

     "Okay.  Let's get this show on the road."

     ******

     "I knew I never should have told you!"  Blair yelled, following
Jim onto the sidewalk.  It was  mid-evening, and only a few people were
moving around to the businesses that were still open.  The  two arguing
men warranted a couple turns of the head from those people, but little
else.  

     "I should have known getting back together with you would be a
disaster!  We're finished!  You can get your stuff together and get your
ass out of the loft!"

     "I don't have anyplace to go!"  Blair retorted, sounding a little too
upset for Jim's tastes.  He  hoped his lover was secure in the falseness of
anything he was flinging at him now.

     "That's just too fucking bad.  I'm going out, and I won't be back 
tonight.  When I get home tomorrow, I want you gone.  Got it?"

     "I-I got it, Jim."  Blair looked appropriately contrite, and Jim
almost hesitated before getting  in the truck and leaving the sad-faced
man standing there on the sidewalk.  Their acting had been 
convincing--maybe a little too good.  Blair seemed genuinely wounded
as he turned and slowly made  his way into the building.

     ******

     Blair set a pot of water on the stove to boil.  Jim had been gone
almost two hours, and still  no sign of Watson.  It was almost ten o'clock. 
Of course, that wasn't really late. //It just *feels* late//  Blair reasoned. 
His stomach was churning now, having expelled its contents a few
minutes earlier  in an unexpected bout of nervous vomiting.  Walking
into the living room, he checked for the  hundredth time that the revolver
was still handy under the old sweatshirt he'd draped casually over  the
couch.

     His hand encountered nothing but the cushion.

     "Looking for this?"  Watson asked as he smiled at Blair from the
spot where he leaned casually against the stair railing.  The revolver was
dangling from his upraised hand.

     "How did you get in here?" Blair asked, feeling his mouth go
suddenly dry.

     "If you don't want uninvited guests, it's always a good idea to
lock the door.  For a hot shot Einstein, you sure are stupid."

     "What do you want from me?"

     "You know why I'm here.  Now give me the tapes back and you
might still be able to walk when I get done with you."

     "I don't know what you're talking about."

     "Like hell you don't!"  Watson's taunting demeanor quickly gave
way to hostility.  "You stole those tapes, and I want them back...NOW."

     "Like you have any right to those tapes in the first place," Blair
shot back, praying that Jim would make good on his promise and show
up soon.

     "You better hand them over!"  Vince advanced toward Blair, this
time releasing the safety catch on the gun and pointing it at him.

     "I don't have them!  I-I destroyed them."

     "You did what?!"

     "Why in the hell would *I* want them?"  Blair challenged.

     "I don't believe you."

     "I'm sorry, but that's the truth.  Their history, man."

     "Then I guess I'll have to get something else out of my visit here. 
I would have taken the  tapes and left quietly, but since you can't give me
that...well, I guess I'll have to take what you have  got to give."  He
waved the weapon at Blair.  "Take off your clothes and get on all fours
on the  floor."

     "You want action?  You can go fuck yourself, man.  I'm not your
slave anymore."  Blair's tone was flat, firm and even.

     "I'll tear you apart, you rotten little bitch!"

     "Stay away from me!"  Blair yelled back at him, backing up as
Watson advanced, until in one  panic-stricken moment, he felt himself
tumble back onto the couch.  That was all Watson needed to  pounce on
him and pin him there.

     "We can do this the hard way if you want.  I like it rough." 
Watson had dispensed with the  gun somewhere, and was now using
both powerful arms to restrain Blair's arms to the cushions of  the couch,
keeping a painful grip on his wrists.  "I'm going to fuck you, so it can
hurt a little or a lot.  Your choice," Watson threatened through gritted
teeth.  "If you're waiting for Ellison, you can forget  it.  He's probably
dead by now."

     "What are you talking about?  He left--"

     "Yeah, sure he did.  Did you think I'd be dumb enough to buy
that?  *I* followed *him* when he left here.  He's in the alley with a
knife in his guts."

     "You better be lying."

     "Or what?  What're you gonna do?"  He deftly switched his grip
so one powerful hand  restrained Blair's wrists and the other arm pressed
down on his throat.  "I'll tell you what you're gonna  do.  I'm going to let
you up, and you're going to strip for me and do as you're told."

     "I'll die first."  Blair met Watson's eyes with complete confidence
and conviction.  "If you've  killed Jim, I don't care about living anyway. 
So your threats are useless.  Go ahead and kill me." 

     "I don't need your cooperation."  As Vince shifted his grip to take
the pressure off Blair's  throat to use that hand to unbutton his jeans,
Blair wrested one arm out of Watson's grip.  With  surprising strength he
brought his elbow up into his assailant's face, sending him sprawling 
momentarily, blood oozing from his lip.  Blair sprang from the couch
and ran for the door.

     Watson was on him momentarily, covering his mouth with one
hand and dragging him down to the floor.

     "They're not going to recognize what's left of you!"  he yelled in
Blair's ear as he pinned the smaller man with his full weight.

     The teapot whistled loudly.  

     Watson's momentary distraction gave Blair the opening he
needed to blindly thrust his Swiss Army knife backward in the general
direction of Watson's face.  He heard a wail of pain and found  himself
relieved of the oppressive weight.  He didn't take time to see what he'd
hit.  Instead, he  grappled with the door locks and had the door open
before Vince recovered enough to grab the waist of Blair's jeans and pull
him back onto the floor.

     "Help me!!"  Blair bellowed out the door just before it slammed. 
"Get off me!!  Somebody help!"

     Watson's fist slammed into his jaw, silencing him momentarily
from the pain and disorientation of the blow.  Blessedly, the phone
began ringing insistently.

     "Make it sound good," Watson rose up, grabbing Blair by the hair
and pulling him up also.   "If that's one of your neighbors, you and your
roommate were just horsing around.  Got it?"  He  yanked Blair's head
back until the younger man croaked out an affirmative answer.

     As soon as he picked up the phone, he blurted a quick message
into it.

     "Alley behind 852 Prospect--" He was cut off when Watson
slammed a hand over the wall  unit, breaking the connection.  Blair
hoped that at least whoever was on the other end might get Jim  some
help, if it wasn't too late.

     "You're a dead man," he growled, slamming Blair against the
wall.  Before he could advance on him, the front door swung open and
Ellison staggered in, knife protruding from his side, gun clutched in two
bloody hands.

     "No, you are.  Get your hands up, now!!"  His voice was raspy,
but Watson was certainly  hearing him loud and clear as he complied
with the order.  "Blair--get the gun.  It's in the back...his  belt," he gritted
out.  Blair followed the directive, backing away from Watson, revolver
pointing at  him.

     "I thought you were dead," Watson said to Jim, who forced a
satisfied little smile.

     "Surprise.  Blair, call for back-up, and for God's sake, get an
ambulance, huh?"  Jim sat  against the back of the couch, but kept his
aim at Watson unwavering.  Blair made the calls as  instructed, ordering
back-up units and an ambulance.  Then he turned back to Jim.

     "We've gotta get pressure on that, man." 

     "Leave it.  I don't want to move the blade."  Jim was as white as a
sheet, his face covered with a cold sweat.

     Blair's nervous distraction over Jim's condition was all Watson
was waiting for.  He grabbed  the younger man around the neck, startling
Blair into dropping the gun.  He moved toward Jim,  effectively using
Blair as a shield between himself and Jim's weapon.  

     "Okay, hot shot, you're gonna have to kill your little whore if you
want to take me down."   Watson smiled wickedly.  "Do you have any
idea how easy it would be to snap his rotten little neck?   Drop the gun. 
Now."

     Those were Watson's last words.

     Blair heard the bullet buzz past his ear right before Watson's grip
loosened and the large man  tumbled to the floor behind him.  A little
unsteady on his feet from the shock of the whole situation,  Blair made
his way over to Jim, who draped his arm around his lover.

     "We got him, sweetheart," he gasped, just as he heard the first
sirens...and everything went black.

******

     Blair had spent what seemed like eternity in the emergency
waiting room.  Jim was  unconscious and bleeding heavily when he was
rushed into surgery.  Simon had arrived with the  back-up units, and he,
along with Rafe and Brown, had sat with Blair to wait the vigil.  None of
it got  through to the distraught man who clutched Jim's watch tightly in
his hand and prayed to whatever  deity would listen.  There had been
something terribly unnerving about the nurse handing him the  piece of
jewelry to keep for his partner.

     "Jim's strong, Blair.  He'll make it," Simon stated confidently.

     "This is all my fault," Blair murmured, fighting the tears that
were burning his eyes.  "I shouldn't have let him take me out of Watson's
place that day.  He'd still be okay now."

     "That's ridiculous, Sandburg.  Get a grip on yourself.  Jim's going
to be fine," he emphasized, as if it were an order.

     "You saw all that blood!  How can anybody bleed like that
and...and be okay?"

     "They can give him a transfusion if he needs it.  Hey, we've seen
guys torn up worse than that make it back just fine," Rafe added.

     "But he bled out there for so long without help, and he had to
come all the way up to the loft..."  Blair worked the watch over in his
hands again, stroking it like it was an amulet.

     "You're here for Detective Ellison?"  A tall man with dark hair
and a neatly trimmed mustache, dressed in blue scrubs, entered the
waiting area.

     "How is he?"  Blair was on his feet the moment the man made it
through the door.

     "I expect him to make a complete recovery--"

     Blair was grateful he was near his chair as his legs gave out and
he dropped back into it.

     "Thank God."  It was little more than a whisper.

     "He'll be in recovery for a few hours, and I expect him to sleep
through the night.  We were  very fortunate in that the knife missed his
organs, so it was only blood loss and tissue damage.  He'll  have to take
it easy for a while to heal, but I don't anticipate any complications."

     "I want to see him," Blair blurted, springing back to his feet
again.

     "He'll sleep at least until morning.  Why don't you all go home--"

     "No.  I *have* to see him.  Please?"

     "When he's moved to his room, you can step in for five minutes. 
No more than that.  I don't want him disturbed."

     "Thank you, doctor," Simon spoke up.  "That's good news."

     "He was very lucky."

     "So am I," Blair whispered to himself, still clutching Jim's watch.

******

     After Jim's recovery from Watson's attack, he had requested a
leave of absence from the PD,  and Blair had requested an extension on
his leave from Rainier.  The university had only disturbed  him once
during late September, when the chairman of the Anthropology
Department called to  strongly suggest he apply for the Assistant
Professor position that had been vacated by a faculty  member who
accepted an offer to teach at Yale, beginning in the Winter Semester. 
This would mean  getting seriously down to business on his dissertation,
since they would accept an A.B.D., but had  certain expectations for the
time line in which he would obtain his Ph.D.

     His superiors' and colleagues' encouragement and support of him
to go after the vacant  permanent faculty position eased Blair over the
hump of feeling that everyone was somehow looking  at and treating him
differently because of Watson.  If they were treating him differently, it
was in a  very positive way.  Two other complaints of sexual harassment
and one complaint of sexual assault  against Vince Watson surfaced after
his death, and Rainier was relieved to be rid of him.

     Jim had never really had an overpowering desire to leave the
Cascade PD.  He did, however,  have an overpowering desire to please
Blair.  If moving to Ethiopia and living in a hut was what that  would
take, Jim would have packed his bags.  Blair had seen so much pain and
heartache and horror  in the last year or so that Jim made up his mind to
do his utmost to bring joy into his lover's life.   Seeing Blair's face break
into one of those genuine smiles that could light up the entire solar
system  was worth anything.

     Now Blair was happy at the thought of staying Cascade,
anticipating his first semester as a  full-time faculty member.  "A real
person, not a student" had been Blair's exact phrase for it. Blair  would,
however, always be a student.  A brain like his would never rest.  Jim
found himself envying  the classes of young people who would learn
from Blair.  That boundless enthusiasm and love for  learning and
teaching were a real gift, and as he thought back over his college
experience, Jim realized  that very few of his professors had possessed it.

     With Jim's encouragement, Blair had gone to a few sessions with
a therapist to talk about his  feelings about the abuse, but the younger
man had discontinued going after about three meetings.   He felt he'd
talked all the same feelings out with Jim, and that he was progressing
through the stages  of recovery as well as he could on his own.  

     Now, six weeks after Watson's death, Jim relaxed in the
passenger seat of a rented sedan, watching the panorama of color that
was a Massachusetts autumn whiz past the window.  There was a CD of
something instrumental, relaxing and...earthy playing on the car's stereo
system, and Blair's hand was moving slightly with the music as he
navigated the car along the winding road.  Closing his eyes a moment,
Jim smiled as he thought that his connection to the Ellison family had
finally earned him something worthwhile: spending the autumn months
in the family's Cape Cod house.  Stephen was the only one who really
used the house anymore, and with him safely in Europe on business, it
was an assured, private hideaway.

     "Keep your eyes open for the private drive.  It should be coming
up any minute."  Jim straightened in the seat a bit, watching for the
entrance to the tree-shrouded road leading back to the oceanfront house.

     "I can't wait to see the house.  And the view of the ocean?  I bet
it's incredible.  We've already seen so much beautiful scenery."  Blair
was talking a mile a minute, sounding very much like his old self.  Jim
smiled lovingly at him, and Blair sensed the gaze and smiled back.

     "What?"  he asked, still grinning and stealing glances away from
the road at Jim's expression.

     "I'm really glad we're taking this trip," Jim said, deciding not to
mention that what was making him the happiest was to hear and see the
"old Blair" taking the trip with him.  There were still a number of
internal scars of Blair's abuse that affected his behavior, but he was
smiling more, talking more, and generally embracing life again.  

     "Me too.  Nobody has our phone number out here."

     "Or the address."

     "Well, uh, a couple people have the address," Blair said quietly.  

     "Naomi?"

     "Well, yeah.  I wanted her to be able to get a hold of me in case
of an emergency.  Plus, if anything went wrong and anybody back home
needed us, she could reach us."

     "If they could reach her."

     "Yeah, there's that," Blair responded, laughing slightly.  

     "You still haven't told her about Watson?"

     "I told her that he was an asshole, that he slapped me around and
you got me away from him.  I didn't tell her that it had been going on the
whole time I was with him.  I let her think it was just, you know, this
last, really bad time that he got arrested for."

     "Don't you think she'd want to know?"

     "I don't think it serves any useful purpose for her to know.  It's
ugly and painful...and she'd think that she should have known or
something when we talked, and I think she'd just feel bad...like she failed
me.  She didn't.  This wasn't anyone else's fault but my--"

     "But Vince's," Jim cut him off.

     "Yeah, right.   Vince."  

     "Blair?"

     "What?"

     "Do you want to talk about Vince?  I mean, how things ended? 
Does it bother you?"

     "It all bothers me.  Is that the road?"  Blair pointed at a dirt road
off the main one.

     "No.  A little farther yet."  Jim paused.  "I meant, you never talk
much about the whole situation anymore, and I just wondered if you
were okay with things--with what happened."

     "If you mean Vince getting shot, it was unavoidable when it
happened.  I just wonder how much we...set it up to happen.  Sometimes
it bothers me that...that maybe we set up a premeditated murder."

     "He stabbed me, Blair.  I damn near died in the alley behind the
building."

     "I know that.  But if we hadn't set him up, baited him into coming
after me--we laid a trap for him.  He took the bait.  And now he's dead.  I
just wonder if...if there wasn't another way to handle it that would have
left him alive."

     "I'm going to be honest with you on something, Chief.  If that son
of a bitch had lived, we would have never had a peaceful moment.  Even
if he'd been convicted and done time, he'd have gotten out eventually. 
And I can promise you one thing--when the correctional system was
through with him, I'd have picked up where they left off."

     "You would have killed him anyway?"

     "Do you want me to tell you that I wouldn't?"

     "No, I want you to tell me the truth."

     "I think it was inevitable.  Because I know he'd have always been
the demon around every corner, haunting the rest of your life so you had
to fear him and look over your shoulder and jump at every unexplained
noise.  No one should have to live like that, least of all the person I love
most in this world."  Jim sighed and stared straight ahead at the passing
scenery.  "I would kill, or die, to protect you, Chief.  You know that. 
The whole Watson situation was just a matter of time--he'd have crossed
the line again, and I'd have dealt with it.  At least this way, it happened
within a legally acceptable framework.  Blair, there are some
people...you can't *deal* with."

     "Vince fit that profile.  And I was a sorry-ass witness."

     "You were a victim.  That made you fragile for a while, but it
also dropped the weight of the world on your shoulders when you were
least able to carry it."

     "I know I should be upset to know you wanted to literally kill
him."

     "I know I should be upset that I wanted to do that.  What he did
to you...there's no justice I could hand out--or that the courts could--that
would balance those scales.  I just have to hope that wherever he is, the
miserable bastard is rotting in hell."

     "I think there's a justice somewhere in the world.  Either through
reincarnation, or some kind of atonement.  I'm sure there's some way it
all evens out."

     "That's the road," Jim said, pointing out a narrow, dirt path off
the main road leading back into the trees.  Blair turned onto it, and they
continued for a few moments in silence, appreciating the cover of
brightly-colored trees as their leaves rustled in the wind, sending a few
down on the car as it made its way to the house.

     "This is beautiful," Blair commented.

     "It's secluded.  Nice and quiet," Jim added.  

     They exited the cover of woods into a semi-cleared area dotted
with a few large trees.  In the midst of it was a modest two-storey house
with an exterior of gray cedar shingles and a black roof.  It was situated
on a bluff overlooking the ocean, which could be seen in the distance as
the two men sat in the car.

     "Wow."

     "Like it?"  Jim asked, smiling.

     "It's great.  I love the setting.  And that view?  Come on, man,
let's go check it out!"  Blair turned off the car and was out of it like a
shot, waiting near the front of it for Jim to get out and join him, reaching
back for the older man's hand as they walked past the house toward the
bluff.  "Listen to that--you can hear the ocean crashing on the rocks
down there."

     "Guess we'll be competing with Stephen for some vacation time
here once in a while, huh?"  Jim said, smiling.

     "I love it."

     "Cold?"  Jim stepped behind his lover and wrapped warm arms
around him.

     "Not anymore," Blair said, grinning back at Jim, resting his arms
over Jim's where they crossed.  "Feeling okay?"

     "Yeah, fine, sweetheart.  The doctor gave me a clean bill of
health, remember?"

     "I know.  I just...worry sometimes."

     "I'm fine.  Hey, let's get our stuff unpacked and get a fire going. 
We can rustle up some dinner."

     "I'm getting pretty hungry."

     "So am I.  After we take care of that, we can eat, too."  Jim dove
into to attack Blair's neck, bringing a startled laugh out of his lover.

*********

     After dining heartily on grilled steaks, salad and potatoes, the
two men retired to the living room with a bottle of wine.  The room had
an Early American motif, with hardwood floors, heavy furniture, and a
huge, soft blue rug in front of the stone fireplace.  Curled up on the
couch, sipping the wine, sharing lazy kisses, it seemed like the start of a
very promising vacation.  As kisses became more heated and caresses a
bit more feverish, Jim pulled back and looked into his lover's aroused
eyes.  By unspoken agreement, they pulled pillows off the sofa, along
with the quilt that was spread on the back of it, and hastily assembled a
bed in front of the fireplace.  

     Gently divesting each other of every piece of clothing, they came
together, flesh on flesh, the slight chill of the room giving way to the fire
and their own body heat.  Hands roamed over one another until they
rolled to put Blair atop his lover, where he finally straightened,
straddling Jim.

     "Wanna ride you, lover," Blair panted, undulating his hips,
rubbing their engorged shafts together.  

     "Stuff?"  Jim gasped, his hands wandering to Blair's hips and
around the back, grasping handfuls of the firm buttocks.  

     "Ugh," Blair groaned, sliding off Jim and crawling over to his
discarded pants, leaving Jim with a maddening view of his bare ass. 
Once he'd found what he was looking for, he looked over his shoulder at
Jim, grinning enticingly.  It was the first sign of Blair putting on a little
show for his lover, and Jim was as moved as he was aroused.  

     "You had lube in your pocket?"  Jim said, smiling as Blair made
his way back on all fours.

     "I was hoping you were going to pull over and drag me into the
backseat, but alas, didn't happen," Blair lamented, flipping the cap on the
small tube and handing it to Jim.  

     "Love you, sweetheart," Jim said softly, pulling Blair in for a
gentle kiss.  Blair settled himself comfortably on top of Jim with his legs
spread wide, relaxing while Jim held him and prepared him slowly. 
Their kisses deepened, intensified until Blair broke away suddenly to let
out a little cry when his prostate was brushed with an insistent finger.

     "Now, Jim...gotta do it now," Blair breathed against Jim's mouth
before pulling back and raising up on his knees, letting Jim guide him in
his slow but steady descent onto Jim's hardened cock.

     "God, you feel good, baby," Jim groaned, feeling the warm
weight of Blair's body settle on his sensitized groin area.  The wet heat
totally engulfing his needy cock, the vision of Blair's body in the
firelight, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and the pure joy of having
Blair aggressively take control of their lovemaking for the first time
threatened to bring on Jim's climax before Blair ever moved. 
Somewhere in the back of his foggy brain he could hear the faint strains
of piano music from the CD they'd put on the stereo, and if he let his
hearing expand just slightly, he could hear the crashing of the waves
against the rocks, Blair's heartbeat, and the music blending into the most
exotic symphony imaginable.

     "Jim?"  The question was almost a whisper.

     "I'm still here, baby.  Just taking it all in," Jim said gently,
stroking Blair's thighs.

     "I thought I was doing that," Blair quipped, grinning devilishly.

     "Oh, baby, are you ever," Jim agreed, laughing, which bounced
Blair just a bit.  Liking what he felt, Blair started rocking tentatively on
the shaft that impaled him.  "Oh, yeah, that's good..."  Jim encouraged,
reaching up to lace the fingers of both their hands as Blair settled into
his own rhythm.  

     "Oooh, yeah...feels good..."  Blair managed, throwing his head
back and moving faster, the mane of curls swaying in time with his
motions.  "God, I love this," Blair groaned, smiling as he felt Jim
thrusting up to meet his movements now.  "So deep...ugh...yeah...come
on, lover...move with me...faster..."  

     "Getting close, baby."  Jim made a couple of firm upward thrusts,
nailing Blair's prostate and dragging a scream of pleasure out of Blair
that coincided with a particularly vibrant splash of the ocean against the
rocks.  "Oh yeah, baby, that's it."

     "You can...hear the...ocean?"  Blair gritted out, his eyes widening
a little.  "Tell me."

     "There's the music...the water on the rocks, waves...crashing...and
you...your heartbeat..."  Jim picked up his pace, watching Blair's eyes
drift shut, as if trying to hear through Jim's words the incredible sounds
his sentinel lover was experiencing.  Jim freed one of his hands and
grasped Blair's leaking shaft, pumping it firmly until his lover cried out
and spurted his completion over Jim's chest and belly, slumping forward
slightly, caught in the always-ready arms of his lover.

     The wild spasms of Blair's body brought Jim to the edge and then
pushed him over in one delightful crescendo of music, the ocean and his
own shouts of pleasure.

     Both men lay spent, hearts pounding, cuddled together in the
firelight.  Blair reluctantly shifted, Jim's softened organ slipping from its
tight enclosure.  Jim brought the quilt around their cooling bodies,
cuddling Blair close, kissing every part of the younger man's face his lips
could reach.

     "You were amazing, sweetheart."  Jim ran his fingers into the soft
curls, massaging Blair's scalp as the heart pounding against Jim's side
slowly began to fall into a normal rhythm.

     "I liked it that way," Blair said quietly, hugging Jim tightly.

     "How'd you know about the ocean?"  Jim asked, smiling.  Blair
looked up at him with sleepy eyes and returned it.  

     "I just thought you looked like you were having this otherworldly
experience, and it was the only sensory thing I could think of that was
vastly different from when we usually make love."

     "Every time I'm inside you, it's an otherworldly experience, baby. 
Love you so much," Jim whispered, leaning down to capture Blair's
slightly parted lips.  When he drew back, Blair was smiling softly.

     "Love you too.  I never dreamed we could be like this.  I'm so
glad you loved me back."

     "I always did.  I was just too stupid to see it before."  Kissing the
end of Blair's nose, Jim drew his lover in close again.

********

     Days were spent with picnics on the leaf-dusted grass
overlooking the ocean, long walks along the shore on the private beach
below, and sometimes just a quiet time curled up on the couch together,
reading, or sometimes Jim would read or watch TV while Blair clicked
away on his new laptop.  There was the occasional trip into the nearby
town of Hyannis, sometimes for a nice dinner out or to stock up on
supplies.  

     The nights were spent making love and enjoying the quiet
intimacy of their secluded setting.  Jim delighted in seeing Blair come
alive, his playful, passionate side making itself known in their
lovemaking.  And spending this intensely private, meaningful time with
Blair moved Jim along toward his own ability to accept a milestone he
knew as long overdue in their relationship.  Blair had never been inside
him, never been "on top" in the fullest sense of the word since they'd
become lovers.  While Blair didn't seem consumed with the concept by
any means, Jim realized much of that was the horrific conditioning that
had left Blair not expecting much of anything from sex between men,
and being consistently surprised and delighted with each new pleasure
that unfolded.  

     Lying in the comfort of their big four poster bed, the window
cracked so both men could hear the sounds of the ocean, Blair curled
inside the shelter of Jim's larger body, Jim moved his mouth against one
curl-covered ear.

     "Make love to me, baby," he whispered softly.

     "I thought you wanted to just hold each other," Blair responded,
shifting to look at Jim, smiling a little. 

     "I want you...to..."  Jim swallowed.  Asking was probably scarier
than the act itself.  "Take me."  He watched Blair's momentarily stunned
expression.

     "You mean...you want me...inside you?"

     "Unless you don't want that."  Jim suddenly wondered if he was
putting too much pressure on Blair, or if the younger man was a
confirmed bottom and had no real interest in being the aggressor. 
Somehow, Jim doubted the latter possibility.

     "I...I do...I just...never thought...you would...you know, want me
like that."

     "I want us to be everything to each other.  All ways," Jim
responded honestly.

     "This isn't just something you feel like you have to do, is it?" 
Blair looked away a moment.  "I spent a lot of time doing things for
someone because I had to.  Because it was expected.  I never want to
make love to you because you think you *should* let me do that.  Only if
you can honestly say that you want me that way."

     "I would never lie to you, angel.  I want you that way."

     "I never did it that way before."

     "Do you want to?"

     "Yes, of course, but...I might not be good at it.  I don't want to
hurt you.  God, Jim, if it's done wrong, it hurts so bad--"

     "Blair, I never penetrated anyone anally before I was with you. 
Period.  Never.  I was sort of interested in trying it with Carolyn, but she
didn't like the idea, and I didn't push her.  I didn't blame her.  I know it
can be uncomfortable, and there isn't much in it for women."  Jim
brushed a stray curl out of Blair's eyes.  "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

     "Never," Blair said without hesitation.

     "It just takes patience, love and some preparation.  You'll be
careful, and I'll let you know if something doesn't feel right.  We'll
muddle through it together, sweetheart.  Like everything else.  I'm not
afraid of you."

     "Why now?"

     "Maybe it took me until now to want it.  But now I do.  I want
that intimacy with you."

     Jim could feel the rapid increase in his lover's heartbeat, and
almost feel the fear radiating from him.

     "It's really strange," Blair said softly, running his hand slowly in a
little circle near Jim's heart.  "It was scary to trust you that first time--the
first time we made love all the way--after what happened.  But this... I'm
more scared of this than I ever was of that."

     "Blair, sweetheart, look at me."  Jim encouraged Blair's face
upward until their eyes met.  "I know what your first time was like. 
Even at its worst, nothing could ever be like that between us.  You aren't
going to hurt me that way."

     "I'd never be able to live with myself if I hurt you."

     "It's pretty safe to figure that the first time is going to be harder,
and a little uncomfortable.  But it isn't going to be anything near what
you went through.  Baby, that was torture, not lovemaking."  Jim pulled
Blair tight against him, wishing that by shielding Blair with his body
now, he could somehow go back in time and shield him from all that
unthinkable pain.

     "I know I should be able to forget about it now, but I can't.  I can't
hurt you like that."

     "Am I hurting *you* every time we make love?  Because if I am,
it'll never happen again."

     "No!  I...I love the way you feel inside me."

     "So why don't you think it can be that good for me?"

     "I was used to...I mean, I had...experience," Blair concluded,
mumbling the last word in a hushed voice, heavy with shame.  

     "Oh, sweetheart, what am I gonna do with you?"  There was no
anger in Jim's voice, and he started kissing his way along the side of
Blair's face, still holding him tightly.  "Don't be ashamed.  You survived,
baby.  There's no shame in that."

     "You're a virgin.  It just seems like it isn't fair for me to have that
gift from you when I don't have it to give back."

     "It's not real often that two virgins get together in this society
anymore, Chief.  If you were making a commitment to a woman who
was a virgin, would you refuse to have sex with her because you'd done
it before?"

     "No, but it's just...hard to explain.  I just...I'm scared.  I never did
this before."

     "We don't have to do it at all now if you don't want to,
sweetheart."

     "H-How...w-would we do it?"

     "You mean the position?"  Blair nodded.  "Which one's easiest
for you when you're on the bottom?"

     "On my side."

     "Let's try it that way.  Besides, we can both relax--not have to
hold any weird positions."  Jim felt the tremors still coursing through
Blair's body.  "Honey, I'm not going to break--I'm not made out of
crystal.  We'll take it slow, we'll keep communicating, and if something
happens that makes either one of us uncomfortable, we'll say so."

     "I love you so much.  I don't know how you can be so patient
with me."

     "Because you're the most precious thing on earth to me."  Jim
moved to seal his mouth over Blair's for a deep, gentle kiss.  

     "Jim?"

     "What, sweetheart?"

     "Could we just stay like this a while?"

     "As long as you want, baby."  Jim leaned his head against Blair's,
their bodies completely wrapped around each other.

     "Sometimes the memories are just...hard."

     "Lots of bad thoughts about Vince tonight?"

     "It's just that we talk about making love that way, and I think
about how he used to look...and the sick, horrible feeling I'd get when I'd
see him coming toward me, looking like that...  I don't want to be in that
role.  I don't want to be the one to inflict the pain."

     "It won't be pain, sweetheart.  Not more than is necessary."

     "I just want the memories to go away," Blair said in a broken
voice.  

     "I know, baby.  I know they hurt."

     "I'll try to get better."

     "You are better.  We've got some rough stuff to work through yet. 
You're doing great, sweetheart."

     "It's not that I don't want to."

     "I know, Chief.   I understand.  You know what?"

     "What?"  Blair pulled Jim impossibly closer with a warm, hairy
leg wrapping around the larger man's legs.

     "It means everything to me that the thing you're most afraid of is
hurting me.  You could overcome your fears for yourself, but you won't
risk hurting me.  There's a lot of love behind that."  Jim sighed into the
warm curls near his face.  "Relax, baby.  Try to go to sleep.  I'm just
going to relax here and enjoy holding you."

     "Love you."  Blair settled in and Jim felt his muscles relax a little
as he started courting sleep.  

*******

     Blair sat in the grass, his back against the big oak tree.  He
shifted his gaze from the panorama  of fall colors to the head resting in
his lap.  Jim had dozed off there a few minutes earlier, listening  to his
lover reading a letter from Mrs. Halstead, who still kept tabs on Blair. 
Now, Blair was content  to just treasure the total peace and beauty of the
moment.  The mild autumn day had provided them a great opportunity
for a picnic and spending the majority of the day outdoors.

     "Penny for your thoughts,"  Blair said, smiling as Jim's eyes
slowly opened from his nap.

     "I haven't been this relaxed in?  I guess I never have been,"  Jim
said, laughing a little.

     "This vacation was a great idea, man.  We really needed to get
away."

     "How long was I asleep?"

     "I don't know,"  Blair responded, smiling.  "I kind of lost track of
time.  My mind wandered a lot.  I just rested here watching you. 
Thinking about how much I love you."

     "Me too, sweetheart."  Jim caught the hand that had reached up
to stroke his face and kissed it, then held it firmly.  

     "Jim?"

     "What?"

     "I got us something in town the other day.  If you don't like it, you
don't have to wear it.   You can be honest."

     "Why wouldn't I like it?"  Jim sat up and turned to face Blair. 
They both smiled as an  oversized red oak leaf found its way to stick in
the front of Blair's hair.  The sudden little swirl of  wind was making
brightly colored leaves dance and scurry all around them.

     "I just...I wanted us to have something...symbolic."  Blair pulled a
small velvet box out of the  pocket of his plaid flannel shirt jacket.  He
opened it to reveal two pewter pendants, each one bearing  one half of a
coin.  "It's a Mitzpah coin.  You wear one half, I wear the other half-"

     "Because we're two halves of a whole and not complete unless
both halves are together.   Right?"  Jim grinned at the smile of complete
delight that lit up Blair's face, and in Jim's opinion,  rivaled the
brightness of the afternoon sun.

     "Exactly."

     "I love it.  I think it's perfect for us, baby."

     Blair took the first pendant out of the box and fastened it around
his lover's neck.  Jim  followed his example and placed the other around
Blair's neck.  They sealed the moment with a kiss.   Jim settled against
the tree now, and pulled his partner into his arms.  Blair snuggled against
him  happily and sighed luxuriously.

     "Jim?"

     "What?"

     "I, uh...I was thinking maybe we could do
something...*special*...to seal the vow," Blair suggested quietly.  Jim
smiled when he thought about what Blair was saying.

     "How about right here?"  Jim nibbled a little at the ear into which
he'd been whispering.

     "I'll go inside and get what we need."  Blair started 

     "No need.  Look in the picnic basket."

     "You *planned* for this?"  Blair moved away, finding the tube
Jim had hidden under some spare napkins.

     "Hey, a man can dream," Jim retorted, laughing a little, grabbing
Blair around the waist and pulling him back so they landed on the
ground.  He'd hesitated to manhandle Blair even in fun, but Blair was
laughing and wriggling out of the grip, turning over so he was lying on
top of Jim, facing him.  His face turned suddenly very serious.

     "I'm going to do everything I can to make this good for you."

     "It will be, Chief.  For both of us."  Jim watched Blair start to
unbutton the blue shirt Jim wore, detecting the slight tremor in the
hands.  He relaxed and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations of Blair's
soft lips kissing a trail that followed the exposure of flesh as the shirt
opened.  Soon, he could feel silky curls skimming his skin as the shirt
was moved aside and Blair made his way first to one nipple, then to its
mate.  The firm suckling dragged pleasured groans out of the man lying
on the blanket, soaking up the stimulation.

     Jim slid his own hands up to start opening Blair's shirt, smiling as
he encountered the layer of t-shirt that still protected Blair's skin from
the cold.  Blair sat back, still straddling Jim, and pulled his shirt off and
sent his t-shirt flying to join it.  He helped Jim with the right tugs and
pulls to discard his own shirt.  With a little grin, Blair started to
unbuckle Jim's belt, and then stopped, resting his hands there a moment
before pulling back.  

     "Can we...get undressed the rest of the way ourselves?"  His eyes
didn't move up from the belt to meet Jim's eyes.

     "What's wrong, baby?"  Jim took a hold of the paused hands.

     "Not now.  I don't want to talk about it now.  But I can't do it this
way.  I can't..."

     "Flashback?"  Jim asked gently.  Blair nodded.  "Okay.  I'll get rid
of mine if you get rid of yours," Jim said, flexing his eyebrows and
grinning.  Blair laughed a little, jarred out his memories, and moved
aside.  The two men made short work of jeans, socks and shoes.  

     They lay on their sides for long minutes, holding each other and
kissing slowly, hands exploring one another.  Jim felt strong hands stray
down his back to cup the globes of his buttocks, kneading and caressing
them.  He attached his mouth to a spot on Blair's neck and left a bright
passion mark there.  

     "I need to get behind you," Blair said a bit hesitantly.  Jim kissed
him and pulled back while Blair moved around to lie behind his lover.  

     Presented with the incredible view of that sculpted back and
perfect, firm ass, Blair felt his throat go dry.  He was nervous, excited,
and incredibly turned on at the thought of sinking into the little tunnel
hiding between those perfectly formed mounds.  

     Concentrating on getting Jim relaxed and in the mood, Blair
started kissing his way across the expanse of Jim's back, reaching around
front to find the semi-hardened organ to squeeze and pump slowly.  Jim
grunted a little, moving in time with the motions of Blair's hand. 
Keeping up the tempo, Blair moved down to kiss and suck at the soft
flesh near Jim's tailbone.  He had never rimmed Vince--and had taken
more than one beating for refusing to do it.  He had this one gift left to
give Jim.  One he had guarded under the pain of Vince's belt, his fists
and his sexual revenge.

     Jim moved to his stomach, then raised up on all fours.  It seemed
like an instinctual move, and Blair paused a moment, trying to dismiss
the painful memories associated with that position.  Still, it would
probably be easier for Jim this way, and it was easier access to do what
he wanted to do to the man he loved.  

     Blair began kissing and lapping at the buttocks presented to him,
smiling as he heard the broken little words of approval coming through
Jim's gritted teeth.  When he reached down to stroke the sturdy shaft, it
was rock hard.  

     "Just for you, lover--never for anybody else," Blair said softly. 
Then he parted the twin mounds and ran his tongue over the little
opening there.  

     "Oh, God..."  Jim gasped, unconsciously thrusting back to pull
the elusive tongue deeper.  

     Blair teased the little pucker with his tongue, and finally darted it
tentatively in and out, feeling tears of joy burning behind his eyelids at
having this one gift left to give only to Jim, only to the man he was going
to spend his life with.  He had steadfastly refused this level of intimacy
to Watson, and near the end of their horrific relationship, had resisted
kissing him at all on any part of his anatomy, including his mouth. 
Kissing and worshiping a lover's body with his mouth, to Blair, involved
love and tenderness.  It meant something.  Now, here, with Jim, it did.  

     "I'm getting close, Chief," Jim grunted, and Blair took that as a
cue to cease what he was doing.  With a kiss to his lover's center, he
moved back and found the lube.

     "We'll take it nice and slow, lover.  I'll start with just one finger--"

     "Not too slow or you're gonna be getting to the finish line alone,
baby."  

     Blair tentatively eased a single finger into his lover, and Jim's
haste seemed to give way to his better judgement now.  Judging by the
way the tight passage was gripping his finger, Blair knew as well as his
lover did that they needed to take their time working up to the main
event.  Resolved to do everything for Jim that wasn't done for him his
first time, Blair lingered over the stretching and preparation.  By the time
he'd worked up to three fingers, both men were bathed in sweat and
breathing heavily, driven to the edge of their endurance.  

     And then Blair brushed one long finger over Jim's prostate.  An
almost animal howl ripped forth from the larger man's throat, and in the
aftermath, Blair withdrew his fingers and moved up so his mouth was
near Jim's ear.

     "When I'm in you, I'm going to rub that little spot until you
scream for me," he whispered, hot breath filling Jim's ear.

     "God, Chief, just do it!"  Jim gritted out.

     "Do you need to dial it down?"  Blair asked, teasing now.

     "Sandburg, if you don't do something for me, I'm gonna dial you
down!"  Jim shouted playfully, drawing a laugh out of Blair, who moved
into position behind his lover.  

     "Relax, love.  It's going to feel snug even through we're ready for
it," Blair said softly, stroking Jim's hip as he positioned himself at the
slick entrance, then pushed in slightly.  He paused, letting Jim's muscles
adjust to the intrusion.  "Breathe, lover."  Blair continued to stroke the
soft skin of Jim's hip, and planted a little kiss on his spine.  

     "Okay, baby, try a little more," Jim encouraged.  Blair forged
ahead slightly, stopped by a gasp from Jim.  "I think," he said in a
strained voice, "we've been calling the wrong one of us 'beefstick'."

     "Don't make me laugh, Jim.  It would be a really *bad* idea right
now," Blair warned, his voice threatened by a chortle.  He took the
opportunity of the momentary distraction to push in a bit further.

     "How much more of you is there, Chief?"  Jim asked. 

     "I'm about two-thirds of the way there, love.  You doin' okay?" 
Blair was trying to concentrate on something other that the vise-like grip
of Jim's tunnel around his needy cock.  Blair hadn't shoved into
something hot, moist and tight in almost two years, and his body was
screaming out for completion of the experience.  He felt Jim relax, and
moved ahead a bit, this time sliding all the way inside.

     "Feels full..."  Jim panted.

     "Are you in pain, lover?"  Blair dropped another kiss on Jim's
back.

     "Not exactly.  Just...stretched."

     "You need to relax, love.  Your muscles are all on alert."  He
stroked a hand over the strong back, feeling the tension in the
considerable network of well-defined muscles.  

     "Hang on, sweetheart."  Jim lowered himself flat on the blanket
on his stomach.  No longer required to hold a position, he seemed to find
it easier to relax.  "Move, baby.  Come on,"  Jim prodded.  

     Blair made the first tentative thrust, and despite a little grunt of
effort, Jim met it with a thrust of his own.  Knowing what he needed to
do to get Jim in the spirit, Blair angled his next thrust, aiming directly
for the sensitive little nub that had driven Jim so crazy before.  As soon
as he drove into that little pleasure button, Jim let out another cry of
pleasure, spreading his legs further and thrusting back to increase the
sensation.  

     Slowly, together, they found their rhythm, and Blair started
moaning and grunting in a counter-rhythm with Jim's own cries of
pleasure as his prostate received a vigorous workout.  
The primal satisfaction of taking his pleasure from a lover was so
intense for Blair that he found himself losing touch with reality, losing
all sense of anything but the hot, moist, tight enclosure around his cock. 
All sense of anything but the intense love he felt for the man who was
giving him this amazing experience.

     "Jim...Oh, God...so good, lover...tight..."  Blair started pumping
faster, feeling his climax building.  Jim met every motion with one of his
own, seeming incapable of speech, but adding his own shouts and grunts
to their symphony.  "Love you so much," he managed, remembering how
important Jim's words of love and reassurance had been when they had
made love this way the first time--and every time after that.

     Blair gasped as Jim's muscles clamped around him still tighter
than before, and the spasms began milking him, dragging his climax out
of him as Jim cried out and reached his own completion, moments ahead
of his lover.  

     Blair threw his head back and screamed out Jim's name, shooting
his seed deep into his lover's body.  Exhausted, limp, and spent, he
collapsed on Jim's back, somehow finding the energy to kiss the damp
skin beneath his face.  

     "I love you so much," Blair whispered between kisses.

     "Oh, man," Jim opined eloquently.

     "Did I hurt you?"  Blair asked, concerned at the winded sound of
Jim's voice.

     "If that's pain, I just became masochist."  Jim looked over his
shoulder at Blair and smiled.  "It was great, baby."

     "It was...beyond words.  I never felt anything like it," Blair
admitted.  "I should pull out now.  It might hurt."

     "Just ease out, baby.  Nice and slow."  Blair followed the
direction, and as soon as the connection was broken, Jim rolled over and
the two men wrapped themselves around each other, kissing and
exchanging little words of love.  

     "Sore?"  Blair asked.

     "I know you've been there, Chief," Jim responded, laughing
softly.  "Everything's fine."

     "Thank you."  Blair buried his face against Jim's chest, holding
on tightly.

     "Blair, when we were making love...when you...had your tongue
back there...you said I was the first--"

     "I never did that for any other lover before.  I saved that for
someone special.  I always dreamed about it being you," Blair admitted.

     "That means everything to me, sweetheart."

     "I wanted something to be only ours," he responded quietly.  "I
wanted to love the person I did that for someday.  I wouldn't do it for
Vince.  Not ever."

     "Before, about the belt--did that have something to do with...I
don't want to ever ask you to do something that's going to make you
uneasy."

     "The last time I unbuckled Vince's belt...he used it on me," Blair
replied softly.  "It was just the memories...I couldn't handle it.  I didn't
want to be thinking about that while we were making love."

     "Did he beat you for refusing...what you gave me?"  Jim waited
until there was a slight nod.

     "More than once.  But it was the only thing I had that I could
keep.  It was the one thing he couldn't actually force me to do by
wrestling me into it.  Everything else, I had to submit to, because he
could overpower me.  But I had that one option--that one choice, and I
held onto it, so I'd have...something left to give someone someday..." 
Blair smiled, and looked up at Jim through moist eyes.  "Who'm I
kidding?  So I'd have something left to give you if you ever found you
could want me that way."

     "It was an amazing, beautiful gift, sweetheart.  You're never
going to know...how much it really means to me."

     "I'm available for the next sixty years or so--maybe you can show
me, huh?"  Blair suggested, smiling at his lover.

     "Every day, baby.  I want to show you every day."  Jim pulled his
lover close and held him tightly.   He felt Blair's stomach growl, and
realized the sandwiches they ate were already hours in the past.  "Want
to go into town for dinner?  I'll spring for lobster,"  Jim offered.

     "Sounds great.  Then we can come home and I'll treat you to
dessert."

     "Mere lobster pales in comparison, sweetheart."  Jim hugged
Blair tightly and they kissed again, embarking on that sixty-year plan.

****** 
THE END