Title: TODAY
Author/pseudonym: Candy Apple 
Rating: MAO
Pairings: J/B

Status: NEW, complete
Date: 9-18-98
Series/Sequel: Story 13 of the New Beginnings Series (Sequel to
"Growing Pains")

Disclaimers: Pet Fly owns the guys and The Sentinel.  No money being
made.  Just the sheer pleasure of writing about a live guppy after he's
been dried off properly.

Notes: The title comes from the phrase "Today is the first day of the
rest of your life."  Since I like the archivists far too much to stick them
with a title that long, and everyone will refer to it as "Today" anyway
(myself included <g>), I decided to opt for the abbreviated title.

Summary: A little romance and more progress on Blair's victim
advocacy project, as well as with Jim's father.

Warnings: m/m, love, romance...



TODAY

By 

Candy Apple



     Blair luxuriated in snuggling into the soft bedclothes, knowing
he didn't have to worry about the alarm.  There was just one thing
wrong.  His very large, human space heater was missing.  Frowning,
Blair opened his eyes and pulled himself up in the big bed in the
bedroom of the cabin and looked around sleepily.  It was morning,
sunshine was streaming in through the cracks in the drapes that covered
the patio doors.  The door to the hall was ajar, and he could hear some
clamoring about in the kitchen now that he was focusing on it.  He got
up and went into the bathroom, yawning and planning to take care of
business and go back to sleep.  Whatever Jim was doing, he could
handle on his own for a couple more hours.  A glance at the clock
confirmed that it was only seven o'clock.

     After returning to bed and starting to doze, he heard the sound
of movement at the door of the room, and then opened his eyes to see
Jim arriving with a tray laden with food.

     "Supply run," he explained simply, grinning a little devilishly. 
"Now we don't have any good reason to see the outside of the bedroom
anytime soon."  He waited until Blair straightened up and stuffed a
couple pillows behind himself.  "Morning, sweetheart."  He swooped in
to kiss Blair as he lowered the tray, and himself, carefully on the bed.

     "This is a disaster waiting to happen," Blair observed as he
snatched the carafe of orange juice off the tray and set it on the night
stand.  "Is that what I think it is?"  Blair pointed at a tall glass which
contained a rather repulsive, green-tinted liquid.  

     "You drink one every morning, don't you?"  Jim asked, as if it
were nothing unusual for him to have made one of Blair's algae shakes
for him.  

     "You made that for me?"

     "I sure didn't make it for myself," he responded, laughing a little
and handing Blair the glass.  With the last of the liquid safe from
jostling, Jim tossed his robe aside and slid under the covers with Blair. 
The rest of the tray was stocked with cubes of melon, grapes, sliced
bananas, bagels, cream cheese and a couple of fat banana muffins.

     "You hate the smell of this stuff."  Blair wasn't nuts about it
himself, but he believed in the value of drinking it, so he got started.  

     "So do you.  Admit it.  I saw your nose wrinkle up when you
drank just now."  Jim leaned over and kissed the traitorous nose.  

     "Thanks."  Blair looked at him very seriously.

     "It's just a green shake, sweetheart."  Jim laughed a little and
popped a chunk of melon in his mouth.

     "It's more than that to me," Blair responded, taking another
gulp.  

     "Slide over, huh?"  Jim held out one large arm for Blair to scoot
under.  With his lover cuddled against him, foul-smelling shake
notwithstanding, Jim considered his little corner of paradise complete. 
"What do you want to do today?"  Jim picked up a cube of melon and
fed it to Blair, who made it a point to suck on Jim's finger before he
could withdraw it.

     "You mean when we finally get out of bed?  Probably be time
to go home."  Blair sighed.  "And that's okay with me."  Blair seized
one of the muffins and tore off a piece, feeding it to Jim.  

     "I thought maybe we could take the boat out."

     "Sounds great, man."  Blair laughed.  "Only one catch--we don't
have one."

     "How do you know?  Have you looked in the boathouse down
by the shore lately?"
     
     "What?"  Blair stopped in the middle of chewing a piece of the
muffin.

     "It's an old man boat, I'm afraid.  A pontoon."

     "Wait a second.  When did you get a pontoon?"  Blair
straightened up a little.

     "When I bought one last week.  I wanted to surprise you with it
but I didn't do too great keeping the secret.  I was going to take you out
there tonight so we could go out a ways and make love under the stars."

     "As fate would have it, my social calendar happens to be clear
tonight."  Blair grinned, kissed Jim quickly, and then became a bit
more serious.  "I'm not used to this side of you--you know,
the...frivolous guy with all the money."

     "Blair, we lived together for three years and in that time, we had
a very mundane life.  And then I almost lost you."  Jim sighed and
pulled Blair back against him, wrapping both arms around his lover. 
"I'd like us to have some fun--to have some new experiences together."
     
     "You *have* driven a pontoon before, haven't you?"  The note
of dread in Blair's voice made Jim laugh.  

     "Pontoon, pick-up...how different can they be?"

     "Jim--"

     "Yes, Chief, I've handled a pontoon, a speedboat, wave runners--I
 think I can get us to the middle of the lake and back safely."

     "Just wanted to be sure," Blair retorted, smiling and closing his
eyes again.  "So how come you told me now instead of tonight?"

     "Because I couldn't hold it that long," Jim replied honestly.

     "Let's go out and look at it."  Just like that, Blair was out of the
bed and on his feet, holding a hand out to Jim.

     "Clothes might be a good idea," Jim said, laughing as he got up
and took the offered hand, squeezing it.

     "Here," Blair responded, tossing Jim a pair of blue swimming
trunks and finding a pair of red ones for himself.  "So much for that." 
Blair shoved his feet into an old pair of sneakers and waited while Jim
did the same.

     "You're going to feel the cold if there's a breeze."  Jim dug
around in the drawer and found the folded up navy blue windbreaker
for Blair.   He grabbed his own jacket, smiling a little at the fact they
matched exactly. //One of the hazards of clothes shopping together,// he
thought to himself.

     Hand in hand, they walked down the beach to the boathouse,
and then inside to inspect the large pontoon that waited there for them. 
It was covered by a royal blue and white canopy, with blue upholstered
seats.  Judging by the pristine condition of it, Blair figured it had to be
new.

     "You bought a *new* one?"  He stepped onto the boat, followed
by Jim, inspecting every inch of it with great interest.

     "I saw this one, and I thought, 'that's the one'.  Yep, brand new."

     "Wow."

     "Come on.  Let's test drive this baby."

     As soon as the pontoon was floating lazily on the gentle waves
of the lake, Blair sought out his windbreaker, as did Jim.  

     "This is a *big* lake, man," Blair observed, noticing that all
they were seeing on one side was beach and trees, and the opposite
shore was far enough in the distance to make it difficult to see what
exactly was over there.  "How much of this land is ours?"

     "Well, the cabin and the lot it's on and the strip of beach that
goes with that property.  I bought it as one package, but the previous
owner said it was on the equivalent of four lots--that's why we can get
away with making out on the beach when we feel like it.   We're at the
end of the road, and there's three empty lots between us and the next
property."  Jim closed his eyes, enjoying the fresh lake breeze and the
feeling of Blair snuggled in his arms as they sat together on their new
boat.

     "Jim...you don't have to do all this because of what happened
with the diss, you know."

     "One has nothing to do with the other, sweetheart," he said
gently, kissing Blair's temple.  "I'm not going on some wild spending
spree.  I just wanted us to have this place...and then I got to thinking
that it would be nice if we could drift around on the lake once in a
while.  I used to love pontoons when I was a kid."

     "You did?"  Blair angled his head around to look at Jim's face. 
Jim smiled at him and kissed the end of his nose.

     "Yeah, I did.  My dad had one about this size, and he used to
take Stephen and me and my aunt and uncle out on it on the weekends
in the summer.  The best times, though, were the times when I got a
little older and he'd let me take the pontoon out myself.  I'd take it out
as far as I could in the middle of the lake and just float there...like
we're doing now.  Away from everybody.  And for just that moment in
time...it was total, utter peace.  No stress, no rules, no...nothing.  Just
me and the water.  Well, and a couple beers I usually smuggled out
with me."  He laughed a little and Blair joined him.  

     "Your senses weren't online at all then, huh?"

     "Nah.  Not until Peru."

     "How far can you see now?"  Blair asked, sighing and closing
his eyes, settling against Jim.  "Let me see through your eyes."

     "Okay, sweetheart."  Jim leaned his head against Blair's and
opened his eyes, letting his sentinel sight carry him as far as it could.  "I
see the opposite shoreline, and there are two kids playing in the sand,
building a pretty sorry looking castle," he opined, snickering as Blair
laughed softly with him.  "Behind them are some steps that go up a hill
to a white frame house with a big back porch.  There's a woman up
there in a lounge chair reading in the shade.  The lot next to them is
vacant, and there are a lot of lush, green trees, weeds and overgrowth
there.  I see two squirrels chasing each other up a tree..."  Jim paused,
shifting his focus farther down the shoreline.  "There's an old couple
sitting in beach chairs a ways up the shore.  He's eating a jelly donut. 
God, I'd kill for a jelly donut right now."

     "You're breaking the mood, man," Blair complained, laughing.

     "Sorry," Jim apologized insincerely.  

     "Tell me about the color of the water, the sky...what all this
*looks* like to you."

     "Why?"  Jim was puzzled a bit at Blair's sudden curiosity.
     
     "Because I want you to take me into your world...and I want to
learn about you when I'm not studying you.  See things the way you
do."

     "You're not just *in* my world, baby.  You *are* my world." 
Jim tilted Blair's face up, smiling at the still-closed eyes and claimed
the soft lips gently.  "Okay, Chief."  Jim resumed his scan of the
surroundings, this time focusing on the water and the sand.  "The sand
is like a tan velvet scarf all the way around the shoreline.  The water is
a startling blue, deep and clear and perfect...the same color as your
eyes."  Jim paused to kiss Blair's forehead, and to enjoy the little smile
that graced Blair's features.  "There are fish swimming just beneath the
surface a ways from the boat, and the way the sun...dances on the
water...beautiful."

     "I could see it all," Blair said, grinning up at Jim, blue eyes now
open and alert again.  "The house across the lake, the people...and I
know what it all looks like to you.  Thanks, man."  

     "Anytime, Chief."

     "Would you do that with some other stuff sometime?  You
know, tell me exactly what it's like for you?"  Blair looked away a
moment.  "Not so I can learn anything specific for any academic
reason.  I just want to know how you experience things.  I want to
understand.  Just then, when you were describing everything--I *saw* it
in my brain.  And opening my eyes and looking around, I can almost
*see* it now, because I know it's there, and you can see it.  Does that
make any sense?"

     "Sure.  You're getting a chance to be a sentinel by living
vicariously through my senses."

     "Yeah, exactly."

     "You know what else I like to experience with my senses on
full alert?"

     "What?"

     "You."  Jim tucked a windblown curl behind Blair's ear.  Then
he took a couple of curls between his fingers.  "Your hair is like
this...wonderful, living entity.  It's always moving--did you know that?" 
Jim smiled as Blair's eyes widened a little.  Knowing how that sounded,
he hastened to explain.  "There are so many wavy little strands and
wild little curls.  When it's down, there's always a little curl or a strand
that's shifting or changing positions.  And touching it...Blair, it's like
silk threads--powerful silk threads.  I know sometimes when we're
making love, I sink my hand into it and grab hold, and it's strong
enough, but yet it's so soft and...and it always smells so good.  And
when you skim your hair over me in bed--it's like it *dances* over my
skin.  It has this little bounce to it that you probably couldn't see, but it
feels like tiny little feet dancing over my body..."  Jim broke off and
laughed a little at Blair's rapt expression.

     "Wow."

     "Yeah, *wow*.  My thoughts exactly."  Jim stroked a slightly
flushed cheek.   "I love the way you smell.  It's clean and fresh and
herbal and...and *you*.  I know you pick out scents that won't
overpower me...things you know I like."  Jim smiled as Blair ducked
his head again, the slight flush on his cheeks deepening.  "Since we
became lovers, I know things changed.  I noticed when it happened. 
You don't wear anything artificial, but you get it blended at that scent
shop--all natural, light, woodsy, herbal smelling stuff and there's just
enough so I smell it but it doesn't get to me...except when you're getting
warm when we're getting ready to make love...and then it's like
plunging into the heart of a tropical rainforest..."  Jim hooked a finger
under Blair's chin and raised the beloved face until their eyes met. 
"And underneath all that, I smell my mate.  Your smell.  And there
aren't words for that...and there's no scent shop on earth that could
match it, or improve on it."  Jim leaned in and kissed his lover, pulling
him close with strong arms and not letting go of the prize his mouth
had captured until both of them pulled back for needed breath.  

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

     "I'm not done, baby.  That's only sight and smell."

     "How'd you...I didn't think you'd notice...about the scents.  But
when we started getting intimate with each other, I was worried that
when I got warm and all the artificial stuff heated up with me, that it
would gross you out."

     "I've never been able to relax my senses when I made love with
anyone but you, Blair.  I've had sweety deodorants or heavy perfumes
or hair sprays or...not so great smells that just...hit me right between the
eyes if I didn't keep my guard up.  I know right after you started
sleeping upstairs, you changed everything.  It was like...heaven to hold
you and sleep with you and then finally make love with you and let my
senses do what they wanted.  I didn't have to worry about getting
blindsided with something pungent."  Jim sighed contentedly as
another light breeze swirled around them.  

     "Maybe we ought to head back for the shore."

     "Why?"  Jim looked down at his lover, a bit puzzled.

     "Well, if the pontoon drifted too close to the other shore, we
wouldn't want to shock those little kids with two naked people making
out on deck," Blair grinned and flexed his eyebrows.  "Guess you're off
duty this morning, sentinel," he teased lightly.  "There's one scent
you're missing completely."  Blair moved up to straddle Jim's lap,
nudging Jim's bulge with his growing hardness.

     "Maybe I want you right here and now," Jim growled, sliding
his hands under the elastic of Blair's trunks and grasping the soft
mounds of flesh there.  "We're far enough out," he reasoned, kneading
Blair's buttocks and grinding their arousals together.

     "I didn't bring anything," Blair objected weakly, his breath
already rapid as his hips continued to move, keeping up the friction
between them.

     "I did.  It's in that cupboard."   Jim gave Blair a long, searing
kiss and then moved him aside to go get the tube he'd stashed on the
pontoon in anticipation of their nocturnal waterborne lovemaking. 
When he turned around, Blair was naked, kneeling on the hard deck of
the boat.  "I..."  Jim cleared his throat and Blair grinned devilishly.  "I
brought sleeping bags...you know...uh, for tonight.  They're up front."

     "Better go get 'em then," Blair replied, sitting back on his heels
and letting his knees spread, reaching down to stroke himself while Jim
gaped.  "Need you, lover," he said in a low, husky voice.  Jim sprang
into action and found the sleeping bags, returning to the vision that
waited for him.  He spread them out quickly and stripped out of his
own minimal clothing, then met Blair in the middle of the sleeping
bags, both still on their knees.

     "Need to tell you about touch," Jim breathed into Blair's ear,
pulling their bodies close together, running his hands down Blair's back
to his ass.  "About your skin...your shoulders, your sides, your hips,
your back..."  Jim squeezed Blair's ass firmly, "your gorgeous ass...it's
all like silk...smooth, soft, flawless...when I open up my touch, it's like
rose petals--there's a texture but it's like silk and velvet together," Jim
paused to lick at the shell of Blair's ear as the other man whimpered a
little and thrust against him.  "I feel every one of your hairs...your
chest, your arms, your legs...the wiry stuff down here," he punctuated
the statement by moving a hand down to cup Blair's balls, massaging
them gently.  Blair let out a little groan of pleasure, his head dropping
on Jim's shoulder.  "I feel the sweat rising to the surface and bursting
out because you're getting ready for me...you're hot for me, baby."

     "Jim...pl-please...take me..."

     "God, what your voice does to me," Jim responded, tumbling
them down on the sleeping bags.  "I know when you want it...when
you're thinking about it...I can hear the changes in the tones of your
voice...I hear your breathing change, your heartbeat pick up...I *know*
when you want it, baby.  Love to make you moan and groan and beg for
me, baby...do you know what that does to me?"  Jim got one of the
groans in response, and fastened his mouth on Blair's throat, working
on a large passion mark.  "Gonna do you slow now, baby."

     "Want you...inside..."  Blair thrust against Jim again, feeling the
other man's hardness, knowing Jim could take him anytime now.

     "Have to tell you about your taste.  What it's like to run my
tongue all over you...how it's like a whole landscape to explore..."  Jim
ran a hot tongue down to Blair's right nipple and pulled it into his
mouth, sucking hard.  Blair let out a cry then, grabbing hold of Jim's
biceps, arching up into the hot mouth.  Finished with the first one, he
moved to its mate, tormenting it the same way until Blair was writhing
helplessly under the stimulation, moaning and sweating with the need
for completion.  "It's tangy and spicy and magical," Jim paused long
enough to speak, and then licked his way to Blair's navel, where he
swirled his tongue in the little valley there.   "Down here...it's dark and
spicy and secret," he growled against Blair's overheated groin, just
before rolling Blair on his back and pushing his thighs up from
underneath.  With his lover fully exposed to him, he began slowly
licking and sucking at the tender skin of Blair's perineum.  

     "Jim...gotta come..."

     "No, baby.  Not yet.  You're going to hold it for me.  Till I'm
inside you," Jim commanded gently, moving his tongue down to poke
at Blair's center.  "No one else ever gets to taste you down here...in
your private places...just me.  MY mate, MY territory," Jim stated
firmly, making Blair groan and thrust downward, trying to force Jim's
tongue up inside himself.  

     "Please," Blair groaned, breathing heavily.  Jim looked up at
him from between his raised thighs.  

     "Roll over, baby."

     "Yeah," Blair sighed in agreement, rolling onto his stomach and
humping against the sleeping bag.  Jim was briefly mesmerized by the
undulating ass, just before he grabbed hold of Blair's hips, stilled them,
and proceeded to plant a large passion mark on his left buttock.  

     "Stay still," he directed Blair a bit sternly, which only made the
younger man groan and wiggle his ass invitingly.  

     "You missed a spot," Blair teased, wiggling again.  Jim
rewarded him with another passion mark, this time on his right cheek. 
"Ooooh, yeah."

     "Like that, huh?"  Jim reached for the lube, coating a finger and
thrusting it gently into the saliva-slick opening between Blair's cheeks.

     "Like that better," he ground out, spreading his legs as far apart
as he could, moving in time with the motions of Jim's finger.  

     "It's hot, wet velvet.  That's what you are in here, baby.  A hot,
wet, slippery velvet glove for my cock."  Jim added another finger,
stretching assertively, leaning over Blair until his words came out as
hot, moist puffs of air against his lover's ear.  "For my cock, baby. 
That's what this was made for."

     "Oh, God, Jim..."

     "Keep it still, baby.  You're going to come with me inside you."

     "Yeahhh..."  Blair grunted at the pleasure of the sensations, and
let out a wail of ecstasy when Jim found his prostate, rubbing the little
nub firmly until Blair grabbed onto the fabric of the sleeping bags to
endure the intensity of the stimulation.

     Jim withdrew his fingers and coated himself, then slid slowly
and steadily into the moist heat until they were fully joined.  He waited
there until he felt Blair's body adjust to his presence, until he knew he
could move safely without hurting him.  

     "Love you so much," he breathed into Blair's ear before
beginning a gentle, rhythmic pumping.  Soon, Blair's hips joined the
dance and he was writhing with Jim, rubbing his tormented cock
against the soft fabric beneath him, raising his ass to meet the firm
thrusts above him.  The motion of their bodies, along with the slow,
rolling motion of the lake beneath the pontoon, was a phenomenal
combination of sensations.  It was as if their entire world was moving
in time with their lovemaking.

     "Jim...you feel...so good...ugh, yeah...wanted you...so bad..."

     "Want you...always..."  Jim ground out, picking up his pace,
nosing a few curls aside so he could lick and suck at the soft skin of
Blair's neck and shoulder.   "Ugh...oh, God, Chief...move for me..." 
Jim braced himself on his elbows to avoid dropping his full weight on
Blair's back as he pumped harder now, spurred on by the motion of
Blair's ass, the muscles around his cock starting to spasm and clench. 
Broken cries of pleasure were stifled in the sleeping bags as Blair
reached his climax.  

     With a few more rapid thrusts into his now-pliant lover, Jim
growled his own pleasure against Blair's back as he filled the hot
passage with his completion, slumping exhausted on top of his lover. 
He knew Blair could take the weight for a few moments, and the
feeling of complete possession, complete claiming of his mate brought
a contentment that made moving away unthinkable.  Blair was his,
safe, warm and joined to him, sheltered beneath his body.

     "Thank you for taking me into your world," Blair whispered,
smiling.  Jim picked up a hand that lay, limp and exhausted, on the
blue fabric of the sleeping bag.  He kissed each finger, then enclosed it
in his own hand.

     "Thank you for being my world," he whispered back, kissing
Blair's shoulder and gathering him close, shifting them on their sides,
still joined.  He wrapped his lover completely in his own body.  "You
feel so good," Jim murmured, adding a tender epilogue to the sentinel's
journey he'd shared with Blair.  "You're warm, heavy, moist and solid
in my arms.  But soft, too.  Your heart's thumping so fast, but it's
relaxing a little now.  I smell our sex and the sweat and this scent
that's...*us*.  The scent that makes everything right in this world."

     "Jim?"

     "What, sweetheart?"  Jim kissed Blair's temple and squeezed
him a bit tighter.

     "This pontoon was a very cool idea."  Blair grinned as Jim
started laughing.

********

     Blair stepped out of the shower and went about his usual
morning ablutions.  Jim had gone into work in the middle of the night,
called in to cover for Rafe on a stake-out as the other man had called in
sick.  As he dried off and picked up the deodorant bottle, he smiled to
himself, thinking about the magical time they'd spent at the cabin the
day before.  When he'd made the change to the expensive line of all-natural 
products he was now using, his only thought had been not to
annoy Jim with a lot of sticky, artificial smells coming from his
bedmate.  It had never occurred to him that they'd be a turn-on.

     While the sex had been earth-shaking--or more appropriately,
pontoon-shaking--what remained emblazoned on Blair's heart were the
words and how loved and cherished and...adored he'd felt, being the
object of the sentinel's sensory delights.  And maybe there was
something a little egotistical about reveling in the thought that you
could satisfy, fulfill and titillate a man with superhuman senses.

     The ringing of the phone snapped Blair out his pleasant reverie. 
He streaked out to the kitchen to answer it, pondering to himself why it
was that people feel strange about answering the phone in the nude. 
He was experiencing the phenomenon first hand, and still didn't
understand why he felt ridiculously like the other party could see him.

     "Mr. Sandburg, this is Chief Warren."

     "Good morning, sir." //You're just the man I want to talk to
while I'm standing in my kitchen buck naked with water dripping off
my ass.//

     "I would like to meet with you regarding the victim advocacy
proposal.  You said you had some more specific ideas outlined?"

     "Yes, I do.  What time would be convenient for you?" //If you
suggest a teleconference while I'm nude and you're in a business suit,
I'm going to hang up.//

     "Ten o'clock?"

     "That would be fine," Blair lied, noticing that it was already
after nine.

     "See you at ten o'clock, then."  
     
     "Right.  Thank you, sir."  Blair hung up the phone and sighed
before launching into warp speed, drying his hair as much as the time
permitted and pulling it back, aiming a little of the scented oil Jim
liked in the general direction of his body and hoping some landed, and
flying through the apartment and up the stairs to the bedroom to get
dressed.  

     Just as he tore downstairs, letting out a resounding "Oh, Shit!!"
as he realized he'd forgotten to shave, Jim opened the door.

     "Morning, sweetheart.  Great to see you too," he responded,
laughing a little.

     "This is a disaster!  I'm supposed to meet with the chief at 10
o'clock and I forgot to fucking *shave*!"  Blair fled toward the
bathroom and Jim was hot on his heels.

     "Whoa, come on, baby.  Slow down.  Sit.  You'll cut your head
off if you try shaving right now.  I'll do it."

     "Jim, I'm late already!"

     "You're not late, Chief.  Now follow your own advice and take a
deep breath."

     "I'm gonna throw up."  Blair's arms went around his stomach.

     "Blair, look at me."  Jim crouched in front of his partner. 
"You're not going to throw up.  Warren isn't worthy of this kind of
panic, baby."

     "What if I screw this up?  He wants to know my ideas!  I've got
some notes but I don't know if he's going to just take my ideas and hand
them off to somebody else, or if he wants me to do the job, or if it's part
time and it doesn't pay anything, or if I can't get enough volunteers after
I sign up and the other cops are gonna hate my guts when I have
seminars and--"

     "Blair!"  Jim took a hold of the frantic face.  "Is this an panic
attack, baby?"  he asked, remembering one of Blair's throwaway
comments about how anxiety and panic attacks had been a way of life
for him. //I've been in and out of therapy since I got out of my
Pampers.// Blair's old remark lodged in Jim's brain, and he made a
mental note to ask his lover about it one of these days.  

     "Yeah, I think so.  I'm gonna throw up.  I mean it, Jim.  You are
*so* not in a good place right now."  Blair referred to Jim's position in
the direct path of oncoming vomit.

     "Blair, if all the worst things happen in the next hour, we'll cope
with it together.  Please just try to calm down."   He rubbed his hands
from Blair's shoulders down his arms soothingly.  "Come on, baby,
breathe deep for me."  Blair's heart was thundering and his breath
shallow.  Panicked eyes looked at Jim with no small amount of
desperation.  

     "I haven't had a panic attack since I was eighteen.  God, Jim, I'm
losing it."  He closed his eyes and his arms tightened around himself.  

     "Listen to me, sweetheart.  Warren must have been impressed
with you if he wants to meet with you again.  You're bright, you're
brilliant, you're educated--you don't have to panic about meeting with
this guy."  Jim smiled as fearful blue eyes locked with his.  Blair was
paying attention, even if he was still in the grip of the attack.  "I'm so
proud of you, baby.  You've shared some of those ideas with me, and
they're great.  And I'm not just saying that.  I've seen you talk in front of
a lecture hall full of students who couldn't care less about anthropology
and have them end up right in the palm of your hand.  And I've seen
you hold your own with Simon and any number of other cops at the
PD.  You can do this, sweetheart.  And you don't need to be scared of
the outcome.  You're not handling it alone, remember?"  Jim slid his
arm around Blair's shoulders and pulled one stiffened arm gently away
from Blair's midsection.  He rubbed a soothing hand over Blair's
stomach.  "Deep breath, baby.  Come on."

     Blair tried to follow Jim's advice, and slowly, his ragged
breathing started to even out, and the nausea receded to a manageable
level.

     "That's it.  You're doing great, sweetheart.  You're going to
knock him dead, baby.  I just know it."

     "Would you...come with me?"  Blair looked at him pleadingly. 
"I...I'm out of my element with guys like Warren--career cops.  I don't
know how to...I..."

     "Warren liked you or he wouldn't call you back.  Blair, just be
yourself.  Look at me."  Jim guided Blair's face to turn so they were eye
to eye again.  "You're doing the Cascade PD a favor.  It's not the other
way around.  Remember that."

     "It doesn't feel that way.  Jim...I've got no job, no income, no
well-defined thesis...I feel like this is the last life preserver in the
middle of the ocean, and if I can't get a grip on it, I'm going down." 
Blair bit his lip and tried to hold his emotions in check.  "And now I'm
really gonna be late."

     "Can you sit still while I get you shaved?"  Jim waited until
Blair nodded.

     "I sure as hell can't do it," Blair finally added, holding two
shaking hands out in front of him.  Jim grabbed both of them and held
them tightly, kissing the knuckles.  

     "You're gonna be okay, baby.  And we'll get you there on time. 
I have lights and siren, remember?"  Jim said good-naturedly, draping a
towel around Blair's shoulders to protect his shirt during the shaving
project, which he accomplished in record time with no mishaps.

     "What time is it?"

     "Don't worry about it, Chief.  We're gonna make it just fine."

     "Jim."

     "It's 9:45.  Just trust me, okay?"  Jim kissed the top of Blair's
head and hurried out to the kitchen and picked up the phone.  His voice
soon carried back to where Blair still sat on the closed toilet seat. 
"Simon, Jim.  I need a favor.  You have to get Warren out of his office
for about fifteen minutes, starting at about five to ten."  Long pause. 
"Look, this whole victim advocacy thing might depend on it.  Just buy
us a few minutes, okay?"  Another pause.  "I don't know.  Come on, sir,
you can think of something."  Jim sighed and waited a bit longer this
time.  "Okay, thanks, Simon."  He hung up and returned to the
bathroom.  

     "What's he gonna say?"  Blair asked, feeling a bit less frantic
than he had before.

     "Something about the new floor tile in the lobby."

     "We're gonna owe Simon big time."
     
     "Box of expensive cigars oughtta cover it."  Jim looked down at
Blair.  "You need a clean shirt, Chief.  Your armpits look like you've
been working the chain gang this morning."

     "Oh, man!"

     "Blair, go upstairs slowly, find a shirt you like, put it on and
meet me by the front door. *Don't panic*.  Okay?"

     "Okay."

     "Stomach's okay?"

     "Pretty much," Blair responded, nodding.  

     "Good.  Go get changed."

     Blair came back downstairs in a clean shirt, looking much more
composed, if not considerably embarrassed.

     "Do I look too dorky?"  he asked honestly.  In the tan pants and
olive colored cotton shirt, with his hair pulled back and glasses in
place, Blair looked like a relaxed academic.  

     "You look great, pal.  Let's go."

********

     The ride to the station was enough to re-awaken Blair's sleeping
nausea, but he was grateful to arrive at the chief's office at about seven
minutes after ten, with time to spare before the chief himself arrived
there at almost ten-fifteen.  Blair was calmly reading a magazine in the
reception area, with Jim doing the same in a chair next to him.  They
looked as if they'd been there much longer than they had.  

     By mutual agreement, Jim would wait outside the chief's office
unless he was invited to join them.  He wasn't, so he gave Blair a little
wink that Warren didn't catch and continued to flip through his
magazine while Blair went into the chief's office and the door closed
behind him.

     Jim paced back and forth in the chief's waiting room.  Justine,
Warren's secretary, gave him a couple of benevolent smiles and had
provided him with coffee.  That had been both a curse and blessing. 
With the hyper shot of caffeine on an empty stomach, he was just
pacing *faster*. //I've seen guys waiting for their wives to have babies
that were less uptight than this.  Geez, you'd think he was having brain
surgery instead of talking with Warren.// Jim ran a hand back over his
hair and finally sat down again, taking mercy on Justine, who was
trying to concentrate on her work with Jim moving like a large, caged
panther around her desk.

     There was no denying the importance of this particular meeting. 
Jim had known how vital it was to Blair to launch into another major
project with the recent death of his dissertation, but until he'd seen
Blair in full panic attack mode that morning, it hadn't quite hit home.
//I've got no job, no income, no well-defined thesis...//   The words
reverberated in Jim's head until he massaged his temples.  Blair was on
the verge of something, pushed to the limits of his endurance over the
loss of his sentinel project, and this victim advocacy project was the
rope he needed to pull himself back on solid ground again.

     //If Warren takes this away from him, I may kill the old bastard
with my bare hands,// Jim thought to himself, finishing off the coffee
and leaning back in the chair, trying to stay calm.  Operating on his
honor not to eavesdrop, Jim cursed knowing he had the ability to do so
if he wished.  It only made waiting that much more frustrating.  Still,
just like Blair's phone calls or his other private conversations within
Jim's range, this meeting was Blair's meeting, and he would tell Jim
what he wanted him to know as soon as it was over.

     After what seemed like an eternity--which was more like 45
minutes, Blair emerged, followed by the Chief.  They stopped, shook
hands, and with a couple of exchanged words of thanks, Warren
retreated back into his office and closed the door.  

     Without a word, Blair grabbed Jim by the wrist and motioned to
him to come out into the hall.  Both men said goodbye to Justine as
they passed her desk hurriedly.

     "It's a go!!!"  Blair shouted as soon as they were out in the hall. 
Diving at Jim with a combination hug and body slam, he wrapped his
arms around Jim's middle and felt the embrace returned before he
pulled back and looked around nervously.  No one else was in the hall
at the moment.  "Sorry."

     "I'm not.  That's great news, Chief.  So what kind of a job is it
going to be?"

     "Part time, $20,000 a year--"

     "Benefits?"

     "It's part-time, Jim."

     "We know that part time means you get paid half a salary for
working full time."

     "It also means we can still work together, because if I were full
time, I'd be expected to sit in an office 40 hours a week, and you know
how long I'd last at that."

     "You're happy?  And you're satisfied with how things went?"

     "Yes," Blair answered honestly, grinning from ear to ear. 

     "Then I'm happy."  Jim reached up and patted Blair's cheek. 
"So what kind of budget are they going to give you for staff?"  The two
men fell into step heading toward the elevator.

     "He's going to have Justine put some official figures together
for me, but he said I could go ahead and hire a student like I was
talking about.  As soon as I get the information from Justine, I can start
utilizing the budget.  Plus, he's got to find a place to put the office.  I
was kind of hoping for that vacant office on the same floor as Major
Crimes."

     "Did you ask for it?"

     "Yeah, I sure did.  He said he'd think about that and take a look
at the other availability and also who else had put in requests for the
space.  But I think that having it close to the big departments like
Major Crimes and Vice is important.  I told him that if this department
ends up relegated to the basement that it's useless."

     "And he said?"

     "You really didn't listen to any of it, did you?"

     "I don't without your okay, sweetheart.  You know that."

     "I know," Blair responded, smiling.  "He said that was a valid
point.  Whether or not he was placating me or if he was serious, I don't
know for sure.  But we'll see."

     "You can start rounding up your volunteers now."

     "I thought I'd go out to the U this afternoon and drop in on a
few people, see if I can generate some interest.  I also want to see if I
can get some of the academic departments on the bandwagon of using
the program for field work experiences.  I mean, I'd screen the students
and everything--only the really excellent ones would get in--the ones
who are serious-minded about their work, who could relate to the
people--sorry, I'm rambling."

     "It's good to hear you ramble again, Chief.  Go to it."  

********

     Blair sat propped up in bed, furiously taking notes on a legal
pad.  With his hair still tied back and glasses in place, pen flying, this
was the old Blair Jim was used to seeing.  After spending the afternoon
at the campus, Blair had recruited two faculty volunteers and had
convinced the chair of the Criminal Justice Department to work the
program into the winter semester's list of options for senior-level
fieldwork.  

     "Think you'll be ready to call it a night pretty soon, sweetheart?" 
Jim asked, getting into his side of the bed and sliding into position to
sleep, on his side, facing Blair.

     "Yeah.  My eyes are calling it quits anyway," Blair responded,
pulling off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.  "About
earlier...man, I'm really sorry I freaked on you like that."

     "Oh, you mean this morning?"  Jim played it casual.  "You were
nervous."
     
     "Well, yeah, I was, but I haven't had a panic attack in...geez, ten
or twelve years."  Blair shook his head and shuddered a little.  

     "What used to trigger them before?"

     "Lots of stuff," Blair sighed.  "I've always been high strung. 
Meditation helps a lot.  Sometimes, when I feel like I'm getting all
those feelings--all that stress--I try to take time out to meditate."

     "You've been under an abnormal amount of stress over the
dissertation."

     "I know.  But still...  Even after Lash, I didn't have a panic
attack."

     "The nightmares were different?"

     "Well, yeah.  They were nightmares.  I was sleeping.  These are
just...fits of...nerves, I guess."
     
     "So is that what the therapy was for?"

     "What therapy?"

     "When you were a kid--you said you were in and out of therapy
once a long time ago.  I just got to wondering why."

     "Well,"  Blair set the notebook aside, then released his hair
from its restraints.   "Various things."  Tossing the hairband on the
floor with the notepad, he handed Jim his glasses for safekeeping on
the night stand.  Sliding down into bed, he turned to face Jim.  "I was a
hyper kid.  Anxiety prone, I guess."  Blair chewed his lower lip a
moment.  "I, um, had some problems, and I ended up in therapy.  And
I'd get the panic attacks once in a while, so I'd go back and see the
shrink."

     "If you don't want to talk about this, it's okay."  Jim ran his hand
lightly over Blair's shoulder and arm.  
     
     "It's just...things were always changing, you know?"  Blair
sighed.  "That's exciting in one way, but in another, it's just scary.  You
don't know what you can get attached to, what you can plan on."   Blair
found Jim's hand and held onto it, lacing their fingers.  "All my life, I
felt like I was walking on logs in the water, if that makes sense.  It's
like what I was counting on was so mobile, so *changeable*, that I
never felt like I was on solid ground.  I had to keep adapting and
shifting and *adjusting*.  When I got to Rainier, I had another whole
set of stresses, being the only high school-aged science nerd in a sea of
frat boys and adult men.  So the first couple years were hard there.  But
by the time I was 18...I found that for two years, nothing had really
changed.  I mean, I moved into the dorms, which was a *big* change--I
moved right back out when I was 19 to an apartment.  But the thing is,
my research and my studies...they were constant.  I think that's why I
overcame the panic attack problem then.  I felt...solid.  Secure."

     "And then I came along and knocked that out from under you."

     "No!  See that's why I don't like to talk about this with you. 
You take it on yourself like you made me do this.  You didn't.  You
gave me the okay--both officially and personally--to do this project. *I*
made the choice."

     "So when you were a kid, you were having these panic attacks
often?"

     "Yeah, especially when we moved or a couple times when
Naomi split up with someone I really liked...or when they forgot about
me after the break up.  I know it's stupid to expect that any of those
guys were going to look me up to take me to ball games after they
broke up with my mom.  But I was a kid.  Kids are stupid sometimes."

     "It was their loss," Jim said quietly, kissing Blair's forehead and
resting his own head even closer to Blair's than it had been before.

     "Thanks," Blair responded, grinning a little.  "I remember Kevin
probably the most clearly...he was a musician.  He was *so* cool.  He
had hair halfway down his back, and just this whole...*attitude*.  He
used to take me out in his convertible.  If Naomi had known how fast
he went on the back roads, she'd've killed him.  But it was *so cool*!"

     "How old were you?"

     "Six.  The funny part of it was, he would play these songs on his
tape deck and try to get me to sing with him while we were riding
somewhere.  This guy usually sang really hard rock stuff, and here he is
teaching me to sing 'The Candy Man'--I mean, we're doing 80 down a
country road in his convertible, and he's got Sammy Davis Jr. playing
full blast on the speakers, making me sing the kid's part of the song
while he sang the lead."

     "'The Candy Man', huh?"  Jim laughed.  "What happened to
him?"

     "He cheated on Naomi with one of her friends and she broke it
off with him.  He moved to New York to join some friends of his who
had a band out there.  But I can still sing that dumb song now."  Blair
sighed.  "He did write to me a few times, and he sent me a couple of
tapes with notes telling me to keep singing--that I was good at it." 
Blair paused.  "He died in a car accident about three years after that--
wrapped his car around a tree.  He'd been drinking, and he was going
way too fast, and it was icy."  

     "How did you find out?"

     "He kept in touch with Naomi's friend.  See, the friend didn't
know that Kevin was with Naomi when they got together, so Naomi
didn't blame her.  Anyhow, she told Naomi and Naomi told me.  I
really freaked.  I mean, he sort of lost touch with me after a year or so,
but I still got a birthday card every year, with like, five bucks in it or
something.  He never totally forgot about me.  All the others did, but
not Kevin."

     "Which probably made it hurt that much more when the others
did after that?"

     "Yeah. Exactly.  I thought maybe one of them..."  Blair let the
thought go unspoken.

     "Kevin sounds like a decent guy--well, except for sleeping
around on Naomi."

     "Yeah, there's that," Blair acknowledged, laughing a little.  "But
see, he was into the whole music scene up to his neck, and he wanted
nothing more than to be a big star.  With groupies.  He wanted to have
several women on the string at once, and Naomi wasn't interested in
joining the harem."

     "You were in therapy then most of this time--on and off?"

     "I had a few panic attacks when I was seven, more when I was
eight...it got worse.  All these shrinks were trying to tell Naomi that I
needed a father figure, and stability, and she finally stopped taking me
because she didn't have either one and she was afraid they were going
to contact some children's agency and have me taken away from her. 
For a single hippie in the 70s, that was a concern.  Frankly, I don't think
having a father figure was any end all--I think that was the whole male
chauvinist stereotyping going on when they saw a single mom.  I just
think that I was high strung and all the changes were hard on me, and
the times Naomi took trips on her own and I stayed with other people--I
was always adjusting to something new."

     "She didn't tell you she was worried about the custody issue, did
she?"

     "She didn't have to.  I heard her tell one of her friends.  And so
that just made it worse because I started living with this fear that some
agency was going to put me in a foster home if I went to a shrink.  Shit,
it just snowballed until I was bouncing off the walls half the time.  I
was hyperactive--I guess that's the label I got from one of my teachers
anyway."

     "When did it get better?"  Jim pushed Blair's hair back gently,
letting his hand rest on his lover's cheek, his thumb stroking gently.

     "Naomi took me to a new age guy...he was like a healer.  I
learned how to do some meditation, practice my breathing--you know,
all the stuff I bug you with all the time," Blair added, laughing a little.

     "So *that's* where that came from."  Jim smiled back.

     "It helped a lot.  I still had some episodes, but I was able to do
really well in school and keep myself from panicking over everything. 
And I told him what I was afraid of--about the foster home thing, and
he told Naomi, and she reassured me that wasn't going to happen, so I
was able to get past that eventually."

     "Finding the sentinel project was that stability they thought you
needed way back when, huh?"

     "Yeah.  It was the one thing that never changed, never went
away, that I was *always* going to have...  But you know, I don't need
that to ground me anymore."  Blair smiled, moving marginally closer to
Jim so their noses touched at the tips.  "I've got you."

     "You found the sentinel and lost the project."

     "Jim, losing the dissertation hurt like hell.  It still does.  I'm not
going to lie about that.  But I don't regret it.  I love you, okay?  So quit
beating yourself up about my diss."  Blair paused.  "I've never gotten
through a panic attack as easily as I did this morning.  And I wasn't
controlling my own breathing or centering myself.  I was losing it. 
Until you sat me down and talked me through it--and you were so sure I
wasn't going to lose my lunch all over you that it made me sure.  I had
something solid to hold onto besides myself for once.  And as soon as I
realized that, I calmed down."

     "How did your mom deal with you when you had one?"

     "Pretty much the same way, if she was there at the time.  But
this morning, it was like everything seemed...*solid* with you there. 
And I knew you'd be there for me if I couldn't pull it together, and that
you'll still be by my side of I have another one.  You'll be there if I need
you."

     "Didn't it ever occur to Naomi to change her lifestyle?"

     "I don't think my mother could have survived in a static
situation.  She thrived on new experiences, learning new things--she
still does.  She hates continuity and habit.  To change her lifestyle
would be to change *her*.  How many of us can really do that?"  Blair
shook his head slightly.  "I liked seeing new things, going different
places...but Naomi was always so much better at detaching than I was. 
It's like when she visits even now.  It hurts when I have to say good bye
to her again, but with her, she's just cheerful about it and she goes on to
the next thing.  I mean, I know she loves me, but she doesn't...*attach*
to anything or anyone to the point that it hurts her to separate from
them.  I *do*.  I was able to move in and out of a lot of situations when
I was traveling and doing research, and those detachments didn't all
hurt.  But sometimes, when I was a kid, and I really liked where we
were living or I met a new friend I liked or one of Naomi's boyfriends
acted like they really liked me for *me*, and then they moved on and I
found out that wasn't true at all...those hurt.  Big time.  When I love
somebody...I get attached."

     "I'm glad to hear that, Chief.  I want you to be attached to me
for a good long time."  Jim pulled his lover tightly into his arms and
held him close.  "You never have to detach from me or from our home
again, unless you want to.  Never."

     "I want to be here forever," Blair whispered softly, holding onto
Jim fiercely.

     "Good.  Glad to hear it, sweetheart.  Besides, you'd look awfully
stupid trying to lead an expedition somewhere with me wrapped
around both ankles."  Jim smiled as Blair started laughing, letting out
an inelegant snort.

********

     Blair stood in the empty office and tried to picture what he
should do with the space to make it friendly, comfortable and efficient. 
He was still reeling a bit from having been given the office he
requested, and smiled when he thought that since the bullpen was just
down the hall, Jim could probably hear his heartbeat anytime he chose
to stop and focus on it.  

     "I love you, Jim," he said quietly in the empty room, grinning
and wondering if the words would reach his lover.  With that, he pulled
the tape measure he'd brought in his pocket and started measuring the
room. 

     The space was comprised of one large "outer" office, and one
smaller private office.  The outer office sported the same windows and
Venetian blinds that characterized most of the offices on that floor,
while the private office was accessed through a single solid door, and
its only window was one that looked out on the street below.  

     Everything had been cleaned out of this space, either moved to
the new location for the department shrink, who had last held the
space, or picked clean by the roving vultures who had unofficially
appropriated the leftovers for their own offices.  Blair took note of the
electrical outlets, the phone jacks and various other factors that would
have to be considered when placing furniture, computers and other
equipment.  Absorbed in his work, he was startled by a knock at the
door.

     "Am I interrupting?"  Bill Ellison stood in the doorway leading
out to the hall, looking a little uneasy.  

     "Not at all.  I was just measuring and getting a feel for the
office.  This is going to be the new victim advocacy office.  Well, when
we get some furniture...and a *budget*," Blair added, smiling.  "I'd
invite you to sit down, but..."  he shrugged.

     "I stopped by to see Jimmy.  I've never seen where he worked
before.  He was downstairs, so I guess I'll just stop and say hello on the
way out."

     "Did you meet any of the guys?"  

     "I saw Captain Banks, and since we've met before...he told me
where Jimmy was.  I hope I didn't overstep my bounds by coming
here."

     "I don't see how."

     "Blair, I...I know we didn't get off on a very good foot with each
other--that was my fault.  Things I said about the trust fund...things I
had no business saying.  I want you to know that I really appreciate
your support.  I know Jim puts a lot of stock in your opinions, and I
realize that you being on my side about this will make all the
difference."

     "Whoa."  Blair smiled and shook his head.  "Stop right there. 
The only *side* I'm on in this whole situation is Jim's.  No matter
what's going on, I'm *always* on his side.  Yes, I'm supportive of the
idea of the two of you giving this relationship a chance, but I am
always with Jim.  Period.  I would never push him into something he
wasn't comfortable with.  If he decides to terminate this now, I will be
behind him."

     "That came out wrong."  Bill sighed and shook his head.

     "You're right.  It did.  So if you're trying to make nice with me
so I'll push Jim into a complete reconciliation, I really wish you would
save your efforts."

     "I'm not doing that.  I'm trying to get to know you, Blair.  I can
see how much you love Jimmy, and...I can't lie and say this is exactly
what I would have picked out for him--I know he's going to have a hard
road ahead of him with his career, society--hell, with everything. 
Nobody wants to see their child go through that."

     "I didn't push Jim to be open about our relationship.  He chose
that freely."

     "I'm not surprised he did.  Look, I'm saying everything wrong
here--which isn't unusual, I guess."  He chuckled a little nervously. 
"Jim was married to a woman before.  Everything was very traditional--a big 
wedding, woman from a good family with a good reputation of
her own...and that didn't make him happy.  It didn't last."

     "You met Carolyn?"

     "No.  I wasn't invited to the wedding.  That didn't surprise me
too much.  I understood it.  But I knew who her father was--Carson
Plummer.  He's an investment broker.  I don't know him personally, but
he has a fine reputation--very well thought of.  I had read a few things
about Carolyn in the papers--cases she had been involved with.  I
thought that would be the best thing in the world for Jimmy.  A good
wife from a good family.  But apparently, it wasn't."

     "The biggest regret I have is that Jim has to basically row
against the current for the rest of his life because of me.  But I can't
leave Jim, and I know now that I wouldn't be doing him any favors if I
did.  So we have to just make our way together and take on the
obstacles as they come."

     "When are they going to get around to getting you some
furniture for this place?"  The subject change was rapid, but Blair let
the older man off the hook and took the bait.

     "Well, I'm not exactly sure.  I was pretty happy to get this
office, since it's right down the hall from Major Crimes--and I think a
lot of the people we serve will be working through that department.  Of
course, being a stone's throw from Jim isn't all bad either." 

     "So what are your plans for fund raising?"

     "I'm afraid they're less than pathetic at the moment," Blair
admitted, sitting against the window sill.  "I know I'll have to talk to a
few colleagues at the U to see what my hopes of getting any grant
monies would be."

     "I'm not trying to interfere or anything, but if you decide you'd
like to have some type of fund raising event, I'd be happy to host
something at the club.  I mean, it would be your event, but we could
use my membership to hold it there."

     "Thanks, Bill.  I appreciate the offer.  Any input you have on
the fund raising subject is appreciated.  I've been through the whole
grant routine a dozen times over, but as far as soliciting people to
donate--I haven't really done anything like that before."

     "Well, there are always things like breakfasts with keynote
speakers, luncheon programs--things businesspeople can fit into their
schedules.  A good friend of mine is the head of the Cascade
Community Enrichment Project.  Maybe he can give me some ideas."

     "That'd be great.  Maybe after you talk to him, you could come
over to the loft for dinner and fill us in?"

     "I'd like that.  Well, I better get going and let you get back to
your measuring."

     "Yeah.  I wanna be sure to know just where to set the card table
and lawn chairs I'll probably be using for the first six months," Blair
replied, laughing a little.

     "I thought I heard your voice," Jim said as he appeared in the
door behind his father.  He managed a fairly friendly expression, since
the fragments of conversation he'd picked up had sounded pleasant
enough.  

     "I stopped down the hall when I got here, but you were away
from your desk.  I was hoping maybe I could impose on you for the
grand tour."

     "Of what?"  Jim asked, his expression genuinely blank.

     "Here.  Where you work.  I've never seen more of a police
station than the lobby before."  Faced with his father's hopeful
expression and Blair's little smile as he watched the exchange from
across the room, Jim didn't have much choice but to respond
graciously. //He's trying...he's meeting you *more* than halfway
here...// Jim could hear the words as if Blair had spoken them.

     "Sure.  Let me drop this stuff off to Simon and we'll take a walk
around the place.  You want to join us, Chief?"

     "No thanks.  I'm going to get some measurements done and then
head over to the U and see if I can catch a couple people in their
offices."

     "You'll need these."  Jim tossed the keys to the truck to Blair.

     "Oh, right," Blair said, grinning as he caught them.

     "And by the way--I love you too," Jim added, smiling back at
him and then joining his father to start down the hall for the bullpen.

     Blair watched father and son walking together, exchanging a
few words, and hoped this was a good sign of things to come.

*********

Stay tuned...