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Confused
by Lianne Burwell
January 1998
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Blair Sandburg was confused as hell. He had told his partner, Jim 
Ellison, that he wouldn't be in to the station that day. His excuse was 
that he needed to grade the essays handed in by the students in one of 
his classes. The essays were real, and he *did* need to grade them, but 
it *was* really just an excuse.

The truth was, he needed to think. 

And he needed to do it *well* away from his partner. What had happened 
the night before was the reason for this.

Last night had turned his world upside-down. 

* * * * *

When he had first met Jim Ellison, he had been thrilled beyond words. 
Finally he had physical proof to go with his thesis. Validation for his 
theories. All he had to do was get the oversized cop to cooperate.
Helping him with his senses had softened the big guy up. Helping him 
catch a mad bomber had cemented the partnership.

Then, his place had been demolished. He had been nervous about suggesting 
that Jim let him stay at the loft, but he didn't have much choice on such 
short notice. Jim had agreed, on the condition that it was *only* for a 
week. But Blair didn't have the time to look for another place, and at 
the end of the week he had waited anxiously for the boot.

It never came. Jim never mentioned the promise, never asked if he was 
looking for a new place, never suggested that he had outstayed his 
welcome. That was more than a year ago. It was when Blair had realized 
that their partnership had truly become a friendship.

But after living in the loft for a few months, the dreams had started. 
They were the most intense wet dreams that Blair could ever remember 
having in his life. At first the dreams were faceless. Someone 
unidentifiable bringing him off with great skill... and tenderness. Then, 
gradually a face had formed. The first time he had woken up, realizing 
that the face in his dreams had been that of his best friend, and thesis 
subject, he had almost run. He had an offer of a field expedition to 
Borneo, and he decided to accept it. But then they had heard that Simon 
and his son were missing in Peru, and presumed dead. Jim was determined 
to go after them, despite advice not to, and Blair just *couldn't* let 
him go alone. When they returned, he had decided to turn down the Borneo 
expedition. Running from the problem was not going to do him any good.

The dreams were not a constant thing, though. They came in spurts, then 
disappeared again. He had analyzed them for meaning, examined them for 
content (resulting in frantic masturbation sessions from contemplating 
the intensity of the subject matter). He knew he was attracted to his 
friend. Only an *idiot* wouldn't be attracted. But neither of them were 
into men, so he chalked it up as just an aesthetic appreciation. But that 
didn't really explain the dreams. Nothing did.

Not until last night.

Last night he had woken from another intense dream, still quivering from 
the orgasm, when he realized that he wasn't alone. Jim was just leaving 
the room. Luckily the other man had been so out of it that he hadn't 
noticed that Blair was awake. He had lain there, the rest of the night, 
wondering what he was going to do about his new knowledge. He was still 
wondering.

The way he figured it, there were several possible things he could do. He 
could pretend he didn't know what was going on, letting the situation 
continue. He could confront Jim, and demand that he stop. He could leave.

Or he could confront Jim, and suggest continuing with *both* of them 
awake and participating.

All four choices scared him out of his wits. All four had points that 
appealed, also. But he was going to have to decide.

He just wasn't sure how.

TO BE CONCLUDED IN "Decisions"