Title: Acrophobia

Author: me myself

Warnings: Don't read when in a good mood - it'll depress you Don't read when you are in a bad mood - it'll make things worse Don't read if your name is Patt - it'll spoil my image ;-)

Thanks : to Duskwing for some fluffing!

Feedback: I love even flames!

"Bugs are not going to inherit the earth. They own it now. So we might as well make peace with the
landlord." -- T. Eisner

_ACROPHOBIA_
by me myself

Temptation, not fear, was what he felt gazing down the building. Blair stood closed to its edge. Just a few steps ahead and all his troubles would cease to exist.

And that's the heart of the matter. He had practically two lives: one life at the university and a completely different one at Major Crimes with Jim.

So, no big deal. I can get rid of one.

Blair laughed humorlessly and shuffled a step closer to the edge. Now he was standing barely two feet away from the sheer drop.

Look, Joel, no fear any more. Just temptation.

Blair had in fact never been afraid of heights. He was afraid of the siren call he heard every time he came to close to a drop. Sometimes he marveled why no one else noticed it. Every life, no matter how happy, has its rough corners.

It would be so easy. Just one step ahead and no more worries - ever.

This was only about him and the nine-story building at 852 Prospect. It's not like anybody would truly miss me, a little voice in his kept saying.

Jim will; he is madly in love with me. At least he keeps saying it. No, Blair, that was not
convincing.

Some inches closer to the edge. Temptation. No more stuffed schedules for months in advance. No more all-nighters over essays to be graded. Just one tiny little step ahead.

Be rational, Blair Jacob Sandburg. Healthy people don't talk to themselves in the third person and argue about taking a nosedive down a building.

He shivered slightly. The wind seemed to become even chillier. Hating the cold, he thought briefly about going back inside.

Back to unfinished work, no sleep and crappy food? It might be warm but hell is warm too.

Encouraged again, he took the last possible safe step forward. Now his toes were on the last inch of the roof.

I know sleep deprivation makes me irrational, but who cares.

A sob worked its way up his throat.

I've a perfectly happy life everyone else would love, and I can't deal with it.

No one could, of course, hear that inner monologue, but he kept emphasizing his point with his hands.

What a temptation. I don't think it would hurt that badly.

"Fuck, I knew why I used to live in a one-story warehouse!" he screamed out, not caring who might hear him.

So he didn't hear Jim approaching from behind.

"Chief? Everything alright?" he inquired softly.

"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry Jim," he choked sentinel soft.

The End

END? - depends on your mood