"Can you get that, Sandy?" Megan asked when the knock sounded on her door. She found herself conveniently in the bathroom at the time.
"Sure, no problem." Blair got up and crossed the room, answering the door. "Jim?" He felt stunned, not expecting to see his partner so soon.
The Sentinel dropped to one knee, holding out the gold band Blair had left at the loft. "Please come home, Blair. Forgive me. I've been such an ass. I was scared shitless when I came home last night and you were gone. I finally realized that I was the problem, not you, and not Laurene. I need you back home."
Blair extended his left hand, which trembled slightly, and allowed Jim to slip the ring back to its rightful place on his finger. Jim stood, and pulled the younger man into a fierce embrace. "God, I missed you!"
"Missed you, too," Blair said, fighting back tears that threatened to overwhelm him at the reunion.
Eventually, he pulled himself out of his lover's arms, swiping at his moist eyes with a sleeve. "Come on in, Jim." His excitement began to get the better of him as he bounced on the balls of his feet in the center of the room.
"Out with it, Chief, before you burst." Jim actually chuckled.
"I found out the reason Laurene's been crying so much." He looked over his shoulder at Megan, who stood in the doorway to the bathroom, smiling at the pair. "Well, actually, it was Megan that suggested it, but I did a little experimenting to prove the theory."
"And what would that theory be, exactly?" Jim asked, more amused than curious.
Blair continued to bounce in place, a huge grin plastered across his face. Finally, he couldn't hold it in any longer. "Laurene's a sentinel! A full-fledged, five senses sentinel. That's why we had such problems with her. Every little sound woke her up. Every little discomfort or odd taste or unpleasant odor would set her off. I bought a white noise generator this morning, and she slept for three hours!" His eyes sparkled as he stopped to catch his breath.
"A sentinel?" It was Jim's turn to be stunned. "Oh, God . . . no." He sank into the nearest chair, resting his face in his hands.
"What's the matter, Jim?" Blair walked over to his partner and laid a hand on his shoulder. "This is great news. Now we can stop fighting and start looking for ways to compensate until she's old enough to learn to control her senses."
"You don't understand. You can't understand," Jim moaned. "You didn't have to grow up with it. You didn't have to spend your childhood being called a freak behind your back, or having people look at you oddly, or not believe you because what you said you heard or saw you couldn't possibly have. . . ."
Blair hunkered down beside Jim's chair, tilting his head to get a look at Jim's face. "I'm not your father, Jim. You're not your father. He didn't believe, didn't want to know what was going on with you."
"Oh, he knew, all right," Jim sighed. "He just wished he could make it all go away, make me normal."
"But you're not normal, Jim. You're special. And Laurene's special. She'll grow up in a family that understands her abilities. We'll teach her to control them, to use them only when they're needed. She doesn't have to have a childhood like yours. You'll see. Just imagine what you could have accomplished if your abilities had been recognized and honed as a child."
"I don't know, Blair." Jim looked up into the earnestly excited eyes of his partner. "I'm not sure I'm ready to raise a sentinel daughter. I can barely handle myself at times."
"I'll handle you both," Blair assured him with a smile. "And I'm sure you'll have your own sage comments for her when the time comes. Meanwhile, the white noise generator becomes our next best friend." His grin was infectious, and Jim finally returned it.
"You're irresistible when you set yourself on a mission, you know," he commented, pulling Blair onto his lap and wrapping him in his arms.
"So, you're okay with this?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"This is me we're talking about. Do you ever?" Blair laughed and made a weak attempt to escape Jim's grasp.
"Not so fast, there, Partner. We've got some serious making up to do." Jim tightened his arms, pulling Blair closer to him, brushing his lips against the fullness of Blair's mouth.
"Uh-hem!" Megan cleared her throat and walked into the center of the room. The two men looked up at her curiously. "Don't you think you ought to move this little love fest to the other side of town?"
"You're kicking me out?" Blair asked, faking a pout.
"I'm sending you home, where you belong." She smiled at him warmly. "I love having you here, Sandy, you know that, but I think there's someone here who wants you more."
"Is she right?" Blair turned to the man in whose arms he still rested. "Is there someone here who wants me more?"
"If you have to ask," Jim answered, "then I've been a bigger ass than even I imagined. Blair, the loft is just an empty apartment without you there. You're the one who makes it a home. Come home . . . please?"
"Oh, God, Jim. I thought you'd never ask," Blair sighed in his ear, snuggling into his favorite spot under Jim's chin.
March - Rainier, Third Quarter:
Blair flew around the loft, gathering up books and papers, locating all the pieces of his class syllabus. "I can't believe the time has gone by so fast. I'm not ready. Is Flo here yet?"
Jim smiled at the frantic activity, bouncing a serene Laurene in his arms as he watched the activity with amusement. "Slow down a little, Professor. Everything's right here. You are ready, you know."
"Classes don't start until Wednesday," Blair huffed, almost out of breath from his wild search of the loft, "but there's so much that needs to be done before then. I've been away from school for a year. I've got to get my office back in order, get my class materials organized, figure out my schedule, assign office hours. . . ."
Jim placed Laurene in her swing, where she giggled happily, and crossed back to gather Blair into his arms. "You worry too much. This is your element. You're going to do fine. Tell me about the dissertation."
"Well," Blair began, looking up into sky-blue eyes, "I - I, um, are you going to kiss me?"
"Do you want me to?" Jim's eyes glinted with mischief.
Blair smiled nervously. "I think it might help."
"Tell me about the dissertation first."
"You're such a dick!" Blair's face crinkled into a look of disdain.
"And you love me for it. Now, spill."
Blair sighed and took a deep breath. "Well, I'll turn it in this week. The committee will take their time reviewing it, then return it with suggestions. I'll probably have a rewrite. At least one, maybe more."
"When do you have to defend it?" Jim asked.
"They've scheduled the defense for May."
"That's a long way off. Why are they waiting so long?" As he questioned his lover, he was gently stroking the soft curls, then stopping to massage tense shoulders.
Blair relaxed minutely under Jim's touch. "Giving me time to back out, I guess," he answered with a nervous laugh. "No, seriously . . . They're giving me time to get it polished. I'm giving a public defense, and I guess they feel that after all this time, I might as well get it right."
"You'll do fine," Jim assured him. "Do I get to come?"
"Only if you want to, Jim."
"My being there wouldn't make you nervous?"
Blair allowed himself to relax completely in Jim's arms, forcing the larger man to help support him. "You're my strength, man. You're the one person in this world I'm most comfortable around. Of course you wouldn't make me nervous. I want you to be there."
"Have they set an actual date?" Jim pulled the sturdy body closer, lending Blair his strength.
"The twenty-fourth."
Jim's jaw dropped, and he stared at the man in his arms. "Your birthday?"
"Yup. Is that karma, or what? I'll get my Ph.D. on my birthday." He smiled.
"You're sure they'll award you the degree? What if they don't? I mean, I can't see why they wouldn't, but some of those committee members are bigger dicks than I am."
"Oh, I'm sure none of them are bigger dicks than you," Blair teased, rubbing his upper thigh against Jim's groin. "Are you going to kiss me now?"
Jim growled and dove in, capturing the pliant mouth beneath his. Blair allowed himself to be taken, momentarily forgetting his responsibilities.
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