© February 1997
Blair stood in the
shower, letting the hot water run over him, soothing him. It was over. *Over,
over, over.* He kept chanting that to himself, figuring that eventually he'd believe
it. Of course, lying to yourself didn't work quite as well as lying to someone
else... He jumped slightly when he heard a noise outside the shower--wood
against metal; then the door opened a bit, and he heard Jim's voice.
"You okay,
Chief?"
"Yeah. I'll be
out in a little bit, Jim."
"Okay. Holler
if you need anything." The door closed again, leaving Blair alone in the
steamy closeness of the bathroom. He sighed, and leaned his head against the
cool tile of the shower.
It'd started so
innocently; of course, all of the times he'd gotten himself into a fix had
started innocently... He only wanted to help Jim out--be there for him, guide
him through whatever it was he was facing. *Now who's really lying?* That
insidious little voice in his head spoke up, reminding him that his intentions
weren't always completely honorable when it came to Jim. He shook his head to
clear those thoughts out, preferring not to deal with that. When lying didn't
work, sometimes total lack of acknowledgment would.
Caldwell was in
custody. *Way* in custody. The Feds had taken him away that same
afternoon--he'd been too hot of an item to leave hanging out in a Cascade
holding cell. *Over, over, over.* Blair chanted his mantra again, remembering
the man's leering face coming closer to his; tongue gagging him as Caldwell
forced him into a parody of a kiss...
"Blair? Sure
you're okay in there?" Blair jumped, and hit his head on the tile.
"OW! Geez,
man--couldn't you warn me, or something?" Blair's voice reflected his
irritation. There was a slight pause, then Jim's concerned voice.
"Sorry, Chief.
You sure you're okay?"
It suddenly
occurred to him that the water pouring over him was ice cold, and he shut the
faucet off, gooseflesh breaking out on his arms and legs. "Okay--I'll be
out in a minute. You don't need to keep babysitting me, man."
"Just
checking, Chief. You were in here a while." He heard the door close again,
and leaned against the shower wall. It was useless to stay in here anyway--no
amount of soap and water would ever make him feel clean again. He felt the bile
rise up in his throat, and turned toward the toilet, helpless to stop it.
Jim heard the
retching begin, and turned back toward the bathroom. He opened the door and
looked into the small room, and saw Blair crouched over the toilet, vomiting
into it. He frowned in concern, and grabbed a wash rag that was hanging on the
towel bar next to the door. Blair looked up at him when he heard the water
faucet come on, but seconds later he started throwing up again--which quickly
turned into dry-heaves.
"Here,
Chief." Jim ran some water into a small cup and handed it to Blair.
"Take tiny sips. It might help." Blair shook his head, and closed his
eyes. Jim pressed the water glass into the hand closest to him, then wiped the
sweaty forehead off with the damp cloth. "Blair...what's wrong?" Jim
didn't even know where to go with this one. Blair never got sick...
Blair leaned back
against the tub. His stomach had quit twitching for the moment. "Nothing.
Just nerves, man. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
"You sure,
Chief?"
"Yeah. Sorry
you had to come in and--" He waved his hand expansively.
"No sweat.
Glad you're back, partner."
"Thanks, Jim.
Me, too."
Blair emerged from
the bathroom about fifteen minutes later, white and shaking. Jim frowned. Blair
looked as rotten as he had when he was throwing up. He hoped there wasn't
something wrong that the medic had missed. When he and Simon and the backup had
arrived at the vacated logger's cabin, Blair had appeared to be okay. A little
bruised-- that bastard had hit him several times--and a little shaken, but he
seemed all right. He watched as Blair walked toward him, then veered off to sit
on the other couch.
"Chief?"
"What."
That *really*
didn't sound like Blair. "Do you...are you okay?" Jim felt like he
was on shaky ground here. Normally it was Blair asking *him*, pestering him
with questions about his emotional well-being.
"Fine."
Blair looked up at him defiantly. "I'm just tired, man. I didn't get much
sleep while...while he had me." *'Cause he kept me too busy doing other
stuff...* The thought rose up again, and frantically his brain tried to push it
down; he wasn't quick enough. Blair jumped to his feet, a panicked look on his
face, and ran for the bathroom.
Jim followed him,
and stood outside the door, listening in concerned confusion. What the hell was
going on here? Blair had been kidnapped; held for ransom. Granted, those
weren't activities that happened to the average person (assuming you could
ascribe "average" to Blair Sandburg, his mind threw back); but Blair
had been through more rigorous, dangerous situations before, and had never
reacted this strongly. Maybe the kid was suffering from PTSD -- Post Traumatic
Stress Disorder. He'd check with Simon tomorrow, and see if they couldn't get
Blair an appointment with the staff shrink. Jim rolled his eyes then, thinking,
*As if Sandburg would go!* He heard the sounds of water being swooshed around,
and of spitting, and knew Blair would be out momentarily. He moved back,
anticipating the door to open; and was surprised when he heard the sound of
indrawn breath, and quiet gasps instead. Blair was...crying? Shit.
"Chief--open
up." He turned the knob on the door. Locked. "Dammit, Sandburg--talk
to me. What's wrong?"
The gasps stopped
then; silence. Then, "Nothing. Leave me alone, Jim. I'll work it out on my
own."
"Sandburg,
what the hell is going on?"
The door did open
then, and Blair stood there--eyes slightly red, but looking the same otherwise.
"Leave it, man. I don't want to talk about it. I'm going to bed." He
brushed past Jim, and headed for his room.
Jim returned to the
living area, and settled back down on the couch. Something was wrong. Something
was very wrong. But he couldn't think of any way to get Blair to talk unless he
*wanted* to talk. Hopefully, tomorrow would be better, and he could get some
answers. He turned the TV on, and downed the volume; then dozed off as the
events of the last several days caught up with him.
*******************************
Blair lay in bed, staring
at the ceiling. He could hear the quiet, muted tones of the TV overlaid with
the soft sounds of Jim snoring. He smiled slightly to himself; these were the
sounds he'd grown used to over the last year...the sounds that meant comfort
and home to him. It had been so quiet at that cabin... He felt his hands clench
around the covers, balling the material into his fists. *NO! It's OVER. OVER.*
His brain thought frantically, willing the thoughts down.
Caldwell was gone,
he couldn't hurt him anymore. Shouldn't have hurt him in the first place. Blair
knew he was somewhat disadvantaged physically--his height (or lack of) made him
an easy target; but it wasn't like he was totally defenseless. He should have
tried harder, fought more. Of course, in the end that probably would have made
it that much worse. He shook his head, rolling it back and forth on the pillow.
Once upon a time, he'd thought about telling Jim how he felt about him--how
he'd grown to feel. Jim would have either accepted or rejected him; and he'd
have dealt with it. After all, people did eventually get over unrequited
love--sometimes it just took a while. But that option had been snatched from
him before he'd had a chance to make that decision. No way could he go to Jim
now--he'd been contaminated. Damaged goods, so to speak. Blair lay there in the
darkness, silent tears streaming down his cheeks; crying for something he'd
never had, and never could have.
*********************************
Jim woke suddenly
in the pre-dawn light, sentinel senses reaching out for the noise that had
caught his attention. He was surprised to find himself fully clothed, laying on
the couch; but left those thoughts as he searched for the noise. There it
was...it was...
"Noooo!!!"
Jim leapt to his feet as the wail curled through the apartment; chilling his
insides. "No! No more! Leave me alone..."
"Blair!"
Jim called out Blair's name as he pushed through the door. Blair was sitting up
in bed, staring straight ahead with sightless eyes; arms stretched forward
pleadingly, in supplication.
"No
more...please...don't. Leave me alone--"
"Blair."
Jim sat next to him and spoke softly, although he didn't touch him. As tense
and tight as Blair looked, Jim was afraid he'd shatter if he touched him.
"Blair. Wake up."
Blair's shoulders
relaxed slightly then, and his eyes gradually focused. They widened with
surprise to see Jim sitting on the edge of his bed, but he didn't say anything.
"You were
having a nightmare, Chief. You okay?"
"Yeah, I guess
so." Blair looked down at his hands, which were worrying at the blanket.
"I'll manage. Sorry I woke you, man."
"It's okay. I
crashed on the couch--good thing you did, or I'd never had gotten up this
morning." He hesitantly touched Blair's arm. "Want to talk about
it?"
Blair's face closed
up. "No," he answered shortly. "I don't."
"Okay."
Jim stood up. "We've got to be down at the station at eight to finish the
paperwork the Feds left for us. I'm gonna get a shower. Do you need in the
bathroom first?"
"No."
Jim searched his
face for a minute, looking for anything that might reveal a chink in the armor
Blair had erected. Nothing. "All right. How 'bout making us some breakfast
then?"
"Sure. Eggs
okay?"
"Fine."
***********************************
Jim stared into the
mirror, shaving forgotten as he listened again to the sounds of Blair crying.
He found his hands shaking in rage as he wondered what in the hell that bastard
had done to Blair. His reflection stared back at him, mocking him. How in the
hell was he supposed to fix something he knew nothing about? What had happened
to being Blair's Blessed Protector? He was supposed to *be* there for the
younger man. He *should* have been there. Whatever had happened, he should've
been the one it happened to. Not Blair.
Jim smiled ruefully
into the mirror, and began shaving again. Blair wasn't a little boy to be held
back from the world, wrapped in cotton. He was a full-grown adult who was
surprisingly capable of taking care of himself -- when he was paying attention
to the world around him. Blair's problem was that he was usually so wrapped up
in the thousands of ideas bouncing around in his brain he forgot to notice what
was going on around him. Still, that didn't mean that anything bad should
happen to him; Jim felt guilty that he hadn't been there--to stop whatever.
The eggs and toast
were done, and sitting dished up on plates on the table, and Blair was pouring
orange juice when Jim walked into the living area. The younger man looked pale,
but his hands were steady, Jim noted. He didn't seem to be quite as upset as
he'd been earlier. Maybe it had just been the nightmare getting to him. The odd
thing though--what was it...something was off kilter here. His hair! Blair had
his hair...
"What the hell
did you do to your hair?"
Blair looked up at
him. "I cut it."
"Why in the
hell did you do that?" Jim was totally stunned.
Blair shrugged.
"It was something I needed to do."
"Since
when?"
"Since now.
Jim...please. Just leave it alone, okay? Stop bugging me, man." He sat down
at the table and picked up a fork, forcing some of the eggs into his mouth. Jim
saw the shudder as Blair swallowed, but didn't comment on it. Something
*really* weird was going on.
"I'm going to
have Simon make an appointment for you with the Force's shrink." Jim
offered the comment casually as he sat down, wondering what Blair's response to
that would be.
His head shot up in
surprise, eyes wide with concern. "Why would you do that?"
"Because
you're acting...strange, Blair. C'mon, Chief. Since when would you cut your
hair? You've been throwing up since we got home--your hands are shaking. I
think you're suffering from PTSD--and need someone to talk to about it. If you
don't want to talk to me, fine. I understand. But you need to talk to someone."
"I don't need
to talk to anyone. I just need everyone to leave me alone for a while, and let
me calm down."
"You're not
calming down though--that's the point. You've been home for almost 24 hours,
and you're turning into a basket case. The Blair Sandburg *I* know wouldn't
ever have cut his hair--no matter what was going on."
"Maybe you
don't know the real Blair Sandburg," Blair shot back recklessly. "I'm
not seeing the shrink. Period, end of statement."
"Wrong, Chief.
You are." Jim sat back and looked at Blair, real concern in his eyes.
Blair was sitting there, staring back at him--blue eyes totally unfocused.
Almost like a zone out.
Jim concentrated
and he could hear Blair's heartbeat--racing out of control. He knew almost at
the same time Blair did that Blair was going to throw up again, and he was only
a couple of steps behind when Blair bolted for the bathroom.
"Oh...shit."
The softly spoken words filled his head. Blair hadn't closed the door this
time, so Jim poked his head in the door, foreboding clenching at his stomach.
With a sense of shock that ripped through him like lightening, Jim saw the
blood staining the toilet red.
"All right.
That's it. Come on." Jim grabbed Blair, and hauled him off the floor.
"Let's go."
"Where? Hey,
let go, man. You're hurting me--" Blair struggled with Jim, then gave up
as the bigger man only pulled him along.
"We're going
to the hospital. Jesus, Blair. You're throwing up *blood*. Doesn't that bother
you at all?" He looked back at Blair, who gave him a stony look.
"Well, it's scaring the shit out of me. Come on." Blair followed
along, reluctantly, and Jim pushed him into the truck.
**********************************
"Detective
Ellison?" Jim looked up as the nurse called him.
"Yes. How is
Blair?"
"Mr. Sandburg
is resting comfortably right now. Would you like to see him? It'll be a few
minutes before the doctor can speak with you."
"Yes."
"Follow me,
please."
Jim stood up and
followed the nurse down the hallway, and out of the emergency/trauma area.
"Where are we going?"
"Well, the
doctor admitted Mr. Sandburg for observation. He's on the second floor."
Shit. He'd have to
call Simon again. "What's wrong with him?"
"You'll have
to wait and talk to the doctor, Detective."
She led him up one
flight of stairs, and into a small, private room. Blair was laying on the bed,
almost as pale as the sheets, with two IVs feeding into his arm. He rolled his
head restlessly, but didn't open his eyes. "The doctor has given him
something to relax him, and help him sleep. He'll fill you in on everything in
a few minutes."
"Thank
you." Jim watched her fidget with the IVs, then leave the room. He hooked
a chair with his foot, and pulled it over to the side of the bed.
"Sandburg...what have you done to yourself this time?" He wondered
out loud.
**************************************
It took the doctor
almost 20 minutes to get to him. Blair had moved restlessly, and mumbled a
little, but hadn't wakened. Jim was pacing the floor of the room when the door
opened, revealing a tall, thin man in a white coat.
"Hi. You
Detective Ellison?"
"Hi, yeah. You
are?" Jim stuck his hand out, and the doctor grasped it.
"Doctor
Hamish. Nice to meet you. How well do you know our young friend here?" Dr.
Hamish gestured to where Blair was sleeping.
"Well enough. We've
been--partners for the last two years."
"Okay. That's
why you're listed as his emergency contact?"
"Yes.
Why?" There was a long pause as the doctor considered what to say.
"Dr. Hamish--what in the hell is going on?"
"Let's go talk
out in the hallway, Detective." The Doctor gestured to Jim to proceed him,
and closed the door behind them.
Jim folded his arms
over his chest, and leaned against the wall. "Well?"
"Mr. Sandburg
is suffering from extensive stress-related symptoms. The most notable is the raw
stomach--which caused the bleeding when he vomited." At Jim's impatient
nod, he continued.
"He also
appears to be suffering from dehydration--understandable if he's not keeping
anything down--and from exhaustion. He says he was a kidnap victim." The
doctor paused for a moment, waiting for Jim's reply.
"Yes--he was
kidnapped when I was decoyed from the kidnapper's trail. As far as we know, he
was knocked around a bit--the medic at the station checked him out and said he
was fine."
"Fine."
The doctor repeated the last word, and looked at Jim. "Detective--Mr.
Sandburg shows evidence of having been the victim of both physical and sexual
assault."
Jim stared at the
doctor, shock blurring the edge of his vision. "You mean raped? Are you
sure?"
Dr. Hamish suddenly
looked older. "Yes. In addition to extensive bruising over a large portion
of his body there is evidence of some soft tissue damage--he's not bleeding
internally, but there is some underlying swelling. He also exhibits signs of
forced anal penetration--there was some tearing that we repaired." Dr.
Hamish stopped talking for a minute, pausing as if deciding what to say next.
He took a breath and continued. "Mr. Sandburg confirmed the assault for
us. We are, of course, required to notify the police in such situations. Since
you are--"
"I'll take
care of it." Jim closed his eyes at the thought. "What
about...tests."
Dr. Hamish looked
confused for a moment. "Tests? Oh, you mean...Yes, we ran a blood screen,
and an HIV test. The results won't be back for several days. Mr. Sandburg can
come back and get his results in person, or he can call in."
Jim just stared at
the Doctor, listening without hearing. Why the hell hadn't Blair said
something? For that matter, why hadn't *he* tried harder to find out? Or made a
few guesses. He knew what some of these monsters were capable of. He shook his
head, feeling the weight of enormous guilt pressing down on him.
"Shit."
So much for the Blessed Protector. No wonder Blair had been acting like he
had--if he couldn't rely on Jim to keep him safe...
"Detective.
I'm going to keep him here for a while for observation, but physically he's all
right to leave the hospital. Just needs some rest, and some fluids. He *is*
however, going to need some counseling. Can you take care of arranging that, or
should I send a counselor in to talk to him?"
Jim shook his head.
"No, I'll take care of it. It's my fault--I should be the one to fix
it."
"That sort of
thinking isn't going to do you or him any good, Detective." Dr. Hamish
wrote a few things down on a prescription pad, and handed it to Jim.
"These are some relaxants. Until he gets going with the counseling--and I
recommend you get it started as soon as possible. The rape crisis center is a
good place to start. Anyway, you can get the prescription filled downstairs at
the pharmacy."
"Thanks,
Doctor. Can I go in and see him again before I leave?"
"I don't see
why not. I don't recommend talking to him about the assault yet though--let him
rest and calm down a little."
"Okay."
They shook hands,
and Jim went back into Blair's room. His eyes were open, and although his gaze
was a little unfocused, his eyes zeroed in on Jim.
"What's goin'
on, man?"
"Hey, Chief.
How you feel?" Jim sat down in the chair, and reached for Blair's hand. He
felt the tremor that ran through Blair, and let go after giving it a squeeze.
"Like hell.
What happened?"
"You were
throwing up blood, so I brought you to the hospital. I guess whatever they gave
you to make you sleep was pretty potent. You've been here for about four hours,
asleep for most of that time."
Blair's eyes
widened, and Jim felt himself drawn into that gaze. He wished it had been him
in Blair's place...wished he'd had one last chance to smash his fist into Caldwell's
smirking face. Now he understood that smirk. It made him even madder.
"Jim?"
"Yeah,
Chief?"
"Are they
going to keep me here?" Blair looked around the room. "I'd rather be
home."
"The doctor
wants to keep you for observation for a while--he said you could probably go
home this evening." He moved his hand to place it on Blair's shoulder, but
pulled away as he saw the younger man flinch. He pretended he hadn't noticed,
and smiled. "Until then, you need to rest." He looked at Blair laying
there, and had to resist the impulse to run his fingers through the shorn hair.
Poor kid. How was he ever going to fix this one? "Okay, Sandburg?"
Blair waved his
hand, actually looking like himself for the first time in a few days.
"Yeah, whatever. Just get me out of here as soon as you can. I am so *not*
into hospitals, man. They really give me the creeps."
"And this is
the guy who was telling me to relax for my physical?"
Blair grinned for
the first time since Jim had found him, and he felt his heart stop beating for
a second. "Yeah, well, that was you...this is me." He yawned.
"If I can't leave right now, I guess I'll take another nap."
"Whatever you
say, Chief." Jim grinned at him. "I've got to get down to the station
now, and do *our* paperwork. I'll call later, and see what time the Doc's going
to let you out."
"Okay."
Blair looked down at the sheets for a minute, then back up at Jim.
"Thanks, man. I guess I was stressing out. No big deal, and I fall apart.
Sorry."
Jim winced
inwardly. No big deal. Right. "No problem, Chief. Happens to the best of
us." He smiled again, and stood up. "Call me at the station if you
need anything. I'll stick around there today."
"Okay."
"Okay.
'Bye."
"'Bye."
***********************************
Blair watched Jim
leave, wondering why he didn't say anything about the rape. Maybe the doctor
hadn't told him. After all, there was that privacy act thing, and he was
certainly a legal adult. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Jim's hand
holding his...squeezing it...the feeling of comfort that washed over him with
that gesture. If only he could have that all the time--he'd feel safe then. He
didn't blame Jim; not exactly. He had known the whole time that Jim was trying
to find him, knew he *would* find him. But he hurt so bad--not just physically,
but emotionally too...it was hard not to affix some of the blame. Maybe he was
doing that so it wouldn't hurt so bad thinking about how much he loved
him...loved him, and now could never have him... He sobbed quietly with the
pain, and cried himself to sleep.
***********************************
Jim drove to the
hospital; looking at but not seeing the sun setting over the harbor. He'd
talked to Simon when he'd returned to the station. He didn't like disclosing
confidences, but felt this was warranted. Blair was going to need help, and Jim
wanted to be there for him. Simon had agreed and granted him two weeks
unofficial leave--as long as he came in from time to time for appearances. Jim
had agreed to that, it was more than fair. After talking with Simon he'd gone
to see the psychiatrist assigned to the Force, and explained the problem
without using Blair's name. The psychiatrist had recommended several counselors
who had specialized in rape trauma, and echoed the doctor's warning to get
Blair into counseling as quickly as possible. Now, he was going to pick up his
partner...He swallowed down the feelings of rage and guilt. The doctor was
right--it wouldn't do Blair any good to have him beating himself up over this.
Still, he couldn't help but wish he'd been there; had gotten there earlier...or
had just *seen* the signs. He was a cop, for Chrissakes! He should've seen what
was wrong...
Blair was waiting
in front of the hospital for him, and Jim was shaken by the strong urge he
suddenly had to wrap Blair in his arms and hold him until they both stopped
shaking. He shook his head. *Kid's really gotten to me.* He brought the truck
to a stop, and opened the door for Blair; wondering all the while how he was
going to bring up the subject of the rape.
***********************************
It took exactly 24
hours for things to come to a head, and force the issue. Blair had wondered why
Jim was hanging around the condo--and had finally asked him point blank about
it. Jim told him just that he felt like he needed a few days off, and was going
to keep an eye on Blair until he got his strength back. He didn't add that he
was now fighting an almost constant desire to wrap Blair in an embrace and
never let go. He'd given up trying to figure out where the urge was coming
from. Blair had grown on him. This was obviously a manifestation of that. Blair
retorted that he didn't need a babysitter, and could take care of himself-Jim
should get back to work.
"I need to
stay here, make sure you're okay."
"Aren't you
carrying your Blessed Protector role a little far, Jim? You need a life, man.
Go out, get some dinner or something." Blair was curled up on the couch,
looking better than he had in days, but not yet ready to try the world. He was
irritated that Jim was staying so close--it was hard enough to love someone you
couldn't have from a distance; when that person closed the distance, and got
all touchy-feely on top of it, it got damned hard to deal with. And what was
*with* all that touchy-feely stuff? It wasn't like Jim had never touched him
before, but this was...different. Fear seized him again for a minute--fear that
Jim knew about the rape, and was treating him differently because of it. He
still hadn't said anything though, so maybe not.
Jim heard Blair's
heart rate increase; could see the perspiration slide down the side of his
face, and wondered what had brought this panic on. He touched Blair's leg, and
started at the jolt of energy that surged through him. Just as quickly as he'd
touched him, he pulled back. Didn't want Blair to get the wrong impression.
"I don't want
to go out--I'm fine staying in for a few days."
"Well, it's
your loss, man. I'm tired. I'm going to bed." He walked out without another
word, and Jim sighed. This was going to be harder than he'd thought. He needed
to bring up the rape--he had an appointment for Blair the day after tomorrow.
That was the earliest any of the doctors could get him in; which was fine with
him, it gave him a chance to talk to Blair about it. Jim turned out the lights
and went upstairs. He might as well go to bed, too.
***********************************
"Oh GOD,
NO!!!! No! Don't...please, no..." The scream of terror, followed by
tearful pleadings brought Jim bolt upright in bed, reaching for his gun. It was
Blair--he bounded out of bed and down the stairs, expecting someone to be
there, physically assaulting his guide. There was no one in sight. A nightmare
then. He set the gun by the door; then went to Blair's door, and knocked
softly. No answer, beyond the whimpering sounds of Blair pleading with the
monster in his dreams.
"Blair."
Jim opened the door, and walked in. Moonlight streamed through the crack in the
curtains, and Jim could see the blue eyes open wide, a terrified look in their
depths. "Blair. Hey, Chief. Wake up." He sat on the bed, and put a
hand on Blair's shoulder, to shake him gently. It was a mistake--Blair reacted,
and he wasn't prepared. Before Jim could do anything Blair had grabbed hold and
flipped him over, hands reaching for his neck.
"Nooooo...No
more! Not again!" He wailed, over and over. Jim reached up and grabbed at
his hands, wrestling to break the hold that Blair could never have managed, had
he not been enraged with terror.
"Sandburg!
It's me! Me, Jim. C'mon, Blair. Hear my voice...you know me." Jim panted
the words out. He wondered what he'd do if he couldn't get through to
him--Blair's hands were like vice grips on his neck, and he couldn't seem to
pry them loose. "Blair...Blair, it's me. You're safe. Come on..."
He felt the hands
loosening, then heard the sobs starting. Jim sat up and gently wrapped his arms
around Blair; held him almost on his lap, and let him sob. As the sobs abated
somewhat Jim could feel Blair's body tense up, and he quickly let go of him.
Blair sat back slightly, looking askance at Jim.
"Oh,
God...man, I could have killed you. I thought you were..."
"You thought I
was Caldwell."
"Yeah. I'm
sorry, man." Blair sniffed some, and shifted slightly, changing position
so he was next to Jim.
"You
okay?" At Blair's nod Jim continued. "Chief, I know about the rape.
The doctor told me."
Blair froze. Oh,
God...it had all been true then. Jim had been hanging around out of pity...
"Blair?"
He refocused on
Jim's voice. "Yeah?" Was that his voice sounding so rusty? His
shoulders slumped.
"Want to tell
me about it?"
"Not
especially."
"How about you
do anyway, huh? You need to talk about it."
Blair sighed, then
trembled when he felt Jim pick his hand up. "Jim...d-don't touch me,
okay?"
Jim released his
hand. "Okay, Chief. Whatever you want." He paused then continued,
"I'm right here, Chief. You're safe, and I'm going to keep you that
way." There was an odd quality to Jim's voice, but Blair shrugged it away.
He needed to keep his thoughts tightly focused, if he was going to do this.
Blair pushed down the wave of nausea that was trying to engulf him, and began
to talk.
***********************************
"He got me
when I stopped home to get those papers I'd left here." He'd been grading
papers for another teacher, helping out since the guy'd just had a personal
emergency. In a hurry to get to school to post the grades for his class, he'd
forgotten them. Caldwell was waiting for him in the hallway. "He told me
later how he gave you the slip, but I wasn't really listening, at that
point." Jim felt the body next to him stiffen further in remembrance, and
he lightly touched Blair's hand briefly, for comfort and support. Blair sighed,
and continued. "He gave me a drug--you know, a shot? And it knocked me
out. Well, not totally--I was, like, awake but not awake. You know?
"Anyway, when
I came to we were in this cabin, and he was sitting there watching me. I wasn't
tied up, or anything, but I couldn't move. He told me it was the drug...that I
wouldn't be able to move until it wore off. Then he said, 'you're gonna to be
mine for the next couple of days, pretty boy. You've got the prettiest ass I've
seen since I got out of prison--figure it's time I got a taste of ol' Jim's
boy-toy.' Then he leaned over and kissed me. Or actually, he shoved his tongue
down my throat...and...and--" He choked on the words, and Jim felt the
tremors shaking Blair's body, radiating off of him in waves. He wanted to reach
over and take Blair into his arms, just hold him, comfort him.
He settled for what
he hoped was a reassuring tone. "I don't need the details, Chief," he
told him softly. "I get the picture."
"No...you
don't. He wouldn't settle for just...for just raping me. He had to have sex
with me, and make me want it too."
"How?"
"Well, he said
the stuff he gave me contained a--a mixture of things. One of them would make
me...not willing, maybe...but pliable. So I wouldn't resist as much. And he
did...s-stuff, and I...I...oh, shit, Jim--I *liked* some of it..." Tears
began streaming down his face again, and Jim reached up to wipe them away,
pulling back when Blair flinched away from him. "I'm sorry, Jim..."
"It's okay,
Chief." He ached again to hold him and give him some measure of comfort,
settled once more for a soothing tone. "Shh. It's okay."
Blair resisted the
verbal comfort, scrubbing angrily at the tears on his face. "No it's not,
dammit. I couldn't help having to lay there--I didn't *have* to respond!"
"Chief, sometimes
our bodies betray us. We're not always in control--especially when it comes to
sex."
"That doesn't
make it all right," Blair muttered. "There was more. He
would...he...really liked my hair--kept running his fingers through it; played
with it...one time he made me...he wrapped himself...in it..." Blair's
heart rate had reached a incredible speed and volume. Concerned, Jim looked
closely at his face--he appeared to be on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Blair. Calm
down. It's okay--you're safe..." A thought occurred to him suddenly.
"Was that why you cut your hair off?"
Blair nodded
mutely. "I couldn't stand the thought of touching what he'd
touched..." He froze, then flinched away violently as he felt Jim's
fingers touch the short curls. "What are you doing?"
Jim pulled his hand
back, his fingertips aching to touch the curls...to stroke that silky-looking
hair. "I'm sorry. I--wish you had told me this, Blair. Your hair
was..." Jim broke off, shaking his head. *This is nuts,* he told himself.
"I loved your hair," Jim finished softly, figuring, In for a penny,
in for a pound. He paused, waited a beat, then asked in an even gentler tone,
"How many times did he rape you, Blair?"
There was dead
silence for a long moment, then Blair quietly said, "Rape? Once, I guess.
Sex? I lost count."
Jim found himself
shaking with the rage that was going through him. He drew his hand away from
Blair's hair, and clenched his fists, waited for the shaking to stop--so he
could think coherently again. "I should have been there for you. It should
have been me he was--"
Blair cut him off.
"It's not your fault, man. I was the stupid one who came back here after
you told me not to. I was the one who laid there like a...like a *whore* and
took it from him! I could've fought back--I should have tried harder."
"Sandburg--how
could you fight back if you were drugged?"
"I wasn't
drugged the whole time--just at the beginning."
"Still. You
were being victimized--I saw some of the bruises--he beat the shit out of you,
where we couldn't see, didn't he?"
"Yes."
Blair bowed his head, the uneven bangs falling into his eyes. "How could
you even stand to touch me, man? It makes me sick to my stomach to look at
myself in the mirror...and you..."
"Because it
wasn't your fault. Christ, Chief--that's like blaming an elderly person who has
an accident because they can't get out of bed. Its. Not. Your. Fault." He
leaned a little closer to Blair, and snared his eyes. Dark blue eyes, troubled
and scared, looked back at him. "I love you, Chief. There's nothing *to*
stand. *You* were victimized. *You* were assaulted. *You* *haven't* done
anything wrong. Got it?"
Blair stared at
him, uncomprehendingly, and Jim sighed. He leaned forward and brushed his lips
across Blair's, then pulled back before the younger man could panic. Blair was
looking up at him with a mixture of shock, sadness, and regret in those big
eyes. "Oh, God...Man, you shouldn't have kissed me, Jim." He hugged
his arms to himself. "Oh, you shouldn't have done that...I can't..."
"What, Chief?
You can't what?"
"I can't let
you do this...I'm damaged goods, man. You can't love me--" He broke off,
startled, when Jim's hands clamped down on his shoulders and swiveled him
around to stare at him.
"You listen to
me, Blair. You are *not* damaged goods. I do love you. I've loved you for a
long time, I think--I was just never aware of it. If you've got some
ill-conceived notion of not being "good enough", or some other shit
like that--just get it out of your head. Okay? I love you."
"I love you,
too." It was whispered, and though Jim's sentinel sense heard it, his
brain couldn't quite believe it.
"What?"
"I love
you." Blair's voice was still low, and he looked down at his lap.
"I've loved you for so long now... It was like an ache that didn't go
away--you know, like a toothache you get used to? I got used to loving you; and
knowing you didn't feel that way about me...but I could still be near you. I
thought about talking to you about it, but then Caldwell came, and I..."
"You assumed I
wouldn't be interested because of that." Blair nodded. "Nice opinion
you have of me, Chief. As for not feeling that way about you--how the hell
could you know what I didn't even know?"
"I don't know.
I just figured you wouldn't be interested..."
"Do me a
favor? Next time you have an idea about me, let me know so I can give you *my*
thoughts about it, okay?" He smiled at Blair.
"Sure."
Jim removed his
hands from Blair's shoulders, letting them lay in his lap where they fell.
"So...where do we go from here, Chief? It's your call."
"I don't know,
Jim. I don't know what to do." He shrugged. "Get on with life, I
guess."
Jim dipped his head
and snagged Blair's eyes with his own. "I love you, Chief. Nothing's going
to change that. I loved you before you were raped; I love you now. If anything,
I love you even more--you're a strong person, Blair. Don't let anyone sell you
short on that."
"I'm not
strong," Blair protested. "Man, I ended up in the hospital! That's
not strong."
"You needed to
be in the hospital--you needed medical attention. That's not weakness,
Chief--that's being human. Look, if we'd all been doing our jobs--me, Simon,
the medic--we'd have seen that there was more than just a few bruises wrong
with you. You'd have gotten care right away."
Blair sighed and turned
his head away. "I didn't want you to know."
"I know
that." Jim remained silent then until Blair looked at him again. "You
survived, Chief. That makes you strong."
"If you say
so."
"I do."
Jim narrowed his eyes. "What's it going to take to convince you?"
"Time, I
suppose." Blair returned Jim's gaze, before dropping his back down to the
hands clasped in his lap. He opened his mouth, but Jim had to engage Sentinel
hearing to catch the whispered "And you."
"We've got
time, Chief. And you've got me. I have an appointment for you--and me--with a
counselor who specializes in rape."
Blair winced
slightly. "Do you have to keep saying that?"
"It happened,
Chief. We have to deal with it. Not saying it isn't going to make it go
away."
Blair sighed.
"I know..."
"Even if *you*
don't think you need a counselor, *I* do--we're going to have to deal with this
together, because it affects us both. Got it, Chief?"
Blair looked up at
Jim, astonishment shining in his eyes. "You--" He stopped and licked
his lips to wet them. "You're going to go to counseling with me?"
"I don't think
there's any other choice here. If we're ever going to be able to have a
relationship together we need to work together to heal you."
"Okay,"
Blair said in a weak voice. How could he refuse? It would seem so selfish. He
slowly reached a hand out to Jim, and clasped the one offered to him. Sentinel;
protector; friend; and maybe, someday, lover. This man was so special to him he
didn't even know words to describe it. "It's going to be all right,"
he whispered to himself, looking down at Jim's hand, held in his.
Jim's voice, strong
and sure above him. "Yes, it is. Now."
*******************************************
"It's been
almost two months! How the fuck long is this going to take? Huh? How long
before he can lean in towards me--*touch* me--without me flinching away?"
Blair had raised his voice until he was nearly shouting the final word.
"Blair--"
Jim started to interrupt, to protest that he didn't care *how* long it took;
but Dr. Peli caught his attention and shook his head. Jim closed his mouth, and
sat back; watched with concern as his partner paced the room. Blair never
swore.
Well, maybe not
never--but certainly not like he'd been swearing lately.
Dr. Peli was trying
to calm Blair down. "It takes as long as it takes, Blair. Every person is
different. What you went through is unique unto you--even if I had someone else
who'd experienced the exact same thing, their reaction would be different
because we're all different."
Blair snorted with
disgust. "Fine for you to say. But man, this really sucks. Are you even
doing me any good? I mean, what's the point in coming here and talking to you,
if I don't feel any different?"
"You don't
feel any different at all?"
"No."
Sullenly.
"Are you still
having nightmares?"
"Sometimes."
"But not every
night?"
Pause.
"No." The sullen look on Blair's face changed slightly, and Jim felt
his heart stop for a measure of beats. He almost looked--peaceful--for a
minute. Then the sullen look was back. He checked his watch and noticed that
their session was almost over.
Dr. Peli noticed
the motion, and turned his attention to Jim. "Did you have any concerns
you wanted to bring up, Jim?"
"No--not right
now." He didn't. Nothing beyond the 'when-is-Blair-going-to-be-all-right'
variety.
"Well, if
you'd like to leave then, I'd like a moment with Blair." Dr. Peli gestured
toward the door.
"Sure Doc.
Chief, I'll see you outside in a little bit, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever,
man." Blair wouldn't even look at him this time, and Jim sighed.
"Okay."
He let himself out the door, and paused for a moment, hearing Blair's voice
raise again. He shook himself, tempted for a minute to give in and tune in what
he was saying; then moved down the corridor to the lobby.
Jim found a seat
and got settled, then leaned back and closed his eyes. It had been a long hour
today. Blair was so angry right now--at himself, at Jim, at the world. He cast
his mind backwards to reflect on the last couple of months. Blair had been
going to counseling twice a week--once on his own, and once with Jim. Jim was
also going on his own once a week, although that was going to stop after the
next session. He didn't require on-going sessions by himself any longer...the
ones with Blair would be adequate for whatever would arise. He snorted softly
to himself, trying to convince himself that this was true. Blair had been on an
emotional roller-coaster for the last month, he'd taken Jim along for the
ride--and the ride didn't appear to be over yet.
Jim settled himself
more comfortably into his chair, and thought back to those first weeks...
***********************************
Those first couple
of weeks had been the scariest. Blair had nightmares every night, often more
than once. Jim camped out on the couch, so he could be closer to him. They
tried once--just once--to have Blair sleep in bed with Jim, but it was too
much--just the proximity of Jim's body to his set off a panic attack as soon as
Blair closed his eyes. Jim woke to the sound of Blair gasping for air;
screaming incoherently and striking out at anything and everything. It had
taken most of the rest of the night to get him calmed back down--and settled in
his own bed...with Jim on the couch again. That week had seemed endless...even
after counseling started.
After seeing that
panic, the anger was almost welcome. At least it was an emotion Jim could deal
with--even when Blair aimed it at him. And anger was sure a damn sight better
than the guilt that Blair insisted on pulling around with him.
Doctor Peli had
warned both of them that there would be rough seas ahead--that this wouldn't be
easy. Trauma from sexual assault was a hard thing to deal with; there were so
many variables that combined to bring up so many different feelings. Jim was
having a hard time understanding why Blair was feeling so guilty. "It
wasn't his fault! Doesn't he understand that?"
Dr. Peli hadn't
said anything, as usual. He liked to make Jim work for his answers. Jim
continued, "Then there's this enjoying thing. He told me that he enjoyed
parts of it. I guess...Well, I have to admit--that bothers me, too, Doc."
Jim had said, feeling a weird tightening in his gut. "I mean...is that
normal?"
"What do you
mean, Jim?"
"Is it normal
to--enjoy it?"
"That would
depend on what 'it' would be, I suppose. And your definition of
enjoyment."
"Okay,
and..." Jim raised his eyebrows at the doctor.
"And what,
Jim?"
"How can he
think he enjoyed non-consensual sex?"
"What if it
weren't considered non-consensual?"
"*What*?"
"What if Blair
didn't consider it be non-consensual? How do you feel about that?"
"I'm
not--sure." Actually, it made him feel sick inside.
"It...sounds
weird to me."
"Does that
sound like Blair?"
Jim looked at the
doctor, surprised. "No--but how in the hell did you know that?"
"I've been a
rape counselor for years, Jim. Blair isn't the first person to come in here and
say that such-and-such wasn't really forced, and therefore maybe
enjoyable...simply because they knew that struggling wouldn't help."
"You're saying
that Blair thinks that because he didn't fight back it was consensual--and
that's why he says he enjoyed it?"
"Yes."
"That's crazy!
That's--" What? Jim thought helplessly. How did you counter such
convoluted logic as that?
"*That's*
normal," The doctor emphasized. "That's what he and I will be working
on. Among other issues." The doctor leveled a look at Jim that made him
want to squirm in his seat. "You are an issue yourself. Are you going to
be okay knowing we're talking about you?"
"I--yes. Yeah,
I can deal with it."
"Are you
sure?"
"I have to
be."
"You love him
very much, don't you?"
"Yes." He
nearly whispered the word. "I want him to be able to get over this...not
for me; although I want that too, but for him. I want Blair back--not...whoever
this is."
"Blair is
never going to be the same, Jim. All of our experiences change us, on a
day-to-day basis. Some have the ability to make more profound changes in a
short period of time. Sexual assault is one of those experiences. We will work
through the emotions and feelings associated with that experience; but Blair
will never be the Blair you've known in the past. Neither will you--this has
changed your life as well."
*********************************
"Jim."
Jim opened his eyes.
He was in the medical center. A voice calling him...
"Jim?"
Blair's voice. He
refocused his attention to the present.
"Hey, Chief.
Ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"Station or
home?"
"Home, if you
don't mind. I have some things I need to think about."
"Sure, partner."
Jim got to his feet and followed Blair out of the building. The wind had picked
up while they were inside, and there were clouds gathering in the distance. Jim
shivered. "Think it'll rain tonight?"
Blair shrugged.
"Does it matter?"
"Guess not.
Just trying to make conversation."
"Sorry, Jim.
I'm just...all in my head right now. I have some things I have to think
about."
"It's okay,
Chief. Don't worry about it." He unlocked the truck and climbed in, then
reached over and unlocked the passenger side. "Want to stop and pick up
some lunch first?"
"No."
"Okay."
*Just leave it alone, Jim,* his mind counseled. When Blair was ready to talk,
he'd talk.
He dropped Blair
off at the loft, waiting until he saw his head poke out the window to know he
got inside okay. Then he put the truck in gear and headed for the station.
Half-way there he knew he wasn't going to be any use to Simon after all, and
called in to his long-time friend, explaining that he needed some time off
today to do some thinking.
Blair was at home, which
meant he couldn't go there. Where, then? He settled on a coffee-house near the
harbor, and turned the truck in that direction, his mind returning to that
first week.
***********************************
He remembered how
he'd gone into the station one afternoon, about a week after he and Blair had
started counseling. Simon had needed his input on some things, and wasn't
comfortable discussing it over the phone. Blair was sleeping when Jim left, so
he wrote him a note and headed out. He'd returned to the loft about three hours
later to the sounds of screams from within. Afraid that someone was in their
apartment, Jim drew his gun and crept up to the door. He shouldered his way
inside; and drew up short at the sight of Blair, huddled in the corner of the living
room by the patio door, clutching a pillow to his chest. Screaming.
Jim dropped the gun
on the table; slammed the door shut and ran over to him, only to come to a
sudden, screeching halt. *Don't touch me*, rang in his mind. Blair hadn't rescinded
that order yet, given the first night they'd talked. He approached the younger
man slowly, talking in a calm, soothing voice. "Hey,
Chief...shhh...shhh...it's okay, Blair. I'm home...shh...you're okay.
Blair?" Jim moved in cautiously, slowly, until he was next to Blair. He
dropped to his knees, then sat down completely. Blair had stopped screaming,
but was rocking back and forth, a faraway expression in his eyes.
"I dreamed he
was here, Jim..." His voice sounded faraway, too. "He was here and
you weren't...you said you'd always be there for me..." A tear slipped
down Blair's cheek, and Jim was surprised to feel moisture on his own.
"You weren't here, Jim. Where were you? Why'd you leave?"
"I had to go
to the office, Chief. You were sleeping. Didn't you see the note I left?"
"I saw the
note...why'd you leave, Jim? Why'd you leave me with him?"
"Blair...what
are you talking about? Caldwell is gone. *Gone*."
"I know."
Jim shook his head.
"Chief--what's wrong? Is it because I didn't wake you up?"
"I had a dream
and woke up and you weren't here, and I could still see his face..." The
tears were coming faster now, and Blair reached up to wipe them away. Jim felt
a tide of helplessness rising in him. What could he do? His hands clenched to
keep from reaching for Blair; he ached to hold him and comfort him--offer him
the support of himself to lean on.
"I'm sorry,
Chief. I won't do that again."
"Promise?"
"I promise.
I'm sorry, Blair. So sorry." Jim leaned his head down towards Blair, and
touched his forehead to the younger man's. Blair leaned into him slightly, and
they remained that way for several minutes; foreheads resting against each
other, tears sliding silently down two sets of cheeks.
******************************
A loud horn blaring
brought Jim back to the present to realize he was sitting at a green light. He
waved to the driver behind him, and wondered with grim humor what that guy
would've thought if he'd known Jim was a cop.
The coffee house
was just another block up, so Jim parked the truck at a meter and headed up. He
pulled the collar of his jacket up, and turned into the wind. It was with no
small amount of relief that the coffee house quickly came into view, and he
picked up his pace. The place was kind of slow today--maybe since it was a weekday--and
for that he was grateful. He sat down and placed his order for a pot of
Columbian and a ham and roast-beef sandwich, then resumed his train of thought.
*******************************
By the time the
fourth week of therapy was in full-swing Blair was able to spend the day alone
in the loft--as long as Jim checked in occasionally. He told Jim he wanted to
return to work as soon as possible, and the doctor backed that up. The sooner
Blair was able to return to a normal schedule, the sooner he would heal
himself.
"What's
everyone been saying about me?" Blair asked one night at dinner.
"Huh?"
Jim had been concentrating on some papers he'd brought home, and had missed the
question.
"What're they
saying about me at the station?" Blair had looked away from Jim as he
asked that, and Jim realized that he was embarrassed.
"No one's
saying anything, Chief. The only person who knows what happened to you is
Simon. As far as everyone else is concerned, I just told anyone who asked that
you'd needed some time off. True enough, and it's not anyone else's
business."
"Someone will
find out."
"And if they
do?"
Blair shrugged,
casually, as if he didn't care; but Jim knew he did. He set his fork down, and
sat back in his chair.
"Chief--it's
nothing to be ashamed of. *You* didn't do anything wrong--the blame here rests
squarely on Caldwell's shoulders."
Blair stirred his
food around with his fork. Jim wished he'd eat--he was getting so thin his
clothes bagged on him. "How do you know I didn't do anything? What if I said
or did something that made him think I wanted it?" His voice was so soft
that Jim could hardly hear it without engaging his sentinel sense.
"Blair--people
don't do things that encourage rape. Look at me, Blair...Please?" Jim
waited until Blair looked back up at him. "You didn't do anything wrong,
Chief. Please believe me on this one. Please." Jim could hear the fervent
pleading in his voice, and hoped it was getting through. He stretched his hand
across the table, and Blair picked it up. He squeezed gently, and felt a tremor
run through Blair's system; so fine that only his extra senses detected it.
Blair hung on though...and didn't release the hand. Jim smiled slightly. They'd
just taken a big step forward.
*******************************
"More coffee?"
"Oh,
yeah...Thanks." Jim glanced at his watch. 1:45pm. How long would Blair
need to 'think some stuff through'? Could he hang out in the coffee shop for
that long?
"Need anything
else, hon?"
"No, I'm fine.
Thanks." Jim picked up a spoon and began stirring his coffee, just to give
his hands something to do. The waitress smiled and walked away, a suggestive
swing to her hips; but Jim's thoughts were already refocused on the next week.
*******************************
Anger. That would
be the defining emotion for the next several weeks. And its focus bounced
around like a wild animal suddenly caged. Anger at himself; anger at Jim; anger
at the world in general...and anger at Caldwell. Jim returned home one night
from a late-night call to find Blair sitting on the couch, yelling at the
television. He noticed, surprised, that the news channel had a special report
on one who'd made FBI's ten most wanted: Tristan Caldwell. The news reporter
was saying that Caldwell had been killed in a prison riot earlier in the day...
Jim tuned out the TV and tuned in to what Blair was saying...
"...son-of-a-bitch!
It's not enough that he goes and fucking screws up my life, he's got to fucking
go and get himself killed...and doesn't even pay back society! FUCK!"
Jim's mouth gaped open--he'd never heard much in the way of cuss words come
from Blair. An occasional expletive spoken in moments of extreme trial...but
regular run-of-the-mill cussing? No. "Why? Why, Jim! Why'd the
no-good-rat-fucking-son-of-a-bitch die like that? Too easy..." And the
anger evaporated as quickly as it had come, leaving Blair gasping on the couch,
tears in his eyes. "God, Jim...it hurts. It hurts to know that he never
got what was coming to him..."
"Actually,
Chief...it sounds like he did. Dying in a prison riot probably wasn't how
Caldwell viewed the end of his life."
Jim settled himself
on the couch next to Blair and offered his hand for support. Blair entwined
their fingers, and Jim could feel the tremors shaking his body through them. He
squeezed Blair's hand and nearly stopped breathing when Blair returned the
squeeze. "C'mere, Chief." Jim gestured toward himself.
Blair's eyes got
huge. "What?"
"C'mere.
Remember the night you had the major panic attack?" Blair nodded.
"I'd like to...do whatever that was. I wasn't holding you, but we
were...touching." Jim frowned slightly as Blair's face turned pale.
"Only if you want to, Chief. Nothing you don't want to do."
Blair managed a
tremulous smile. "I love you, Jim. God, I love you..." He leaned his
head toward Jim, until their foreheads met. Jim stayed perfectly still, and
could feel Blair's warm breath on his face and lips. He closed his eyes and
inhaled that breath, reveling in the scent--the scent of Blair; basking in the
sensation of actually being able to touch Blair, to offer his support and love.
"I love you
too, Chief."
"Why's this so
*hard*, man? I want to..." Blair closed his eyes as a shudder tore through
his body.
"Chief?"
Jim pulled back from him. "You okay?"
"I think
so."
"What were you
saying? You want to--what?"
"I want to
kiss you. So bad...but I'm afraid..."
"Then we wait
until you're not afraid."
"What if that
never happens? What if I'm always afraid? I don't want to be afraid anymore,
Jim. This is taking so long...why's it taking so long?"
"One day at a
time, Blair. That's all we can do. One day at a time. You'll heal--you're
already stronger than you were before."
"You're just
saying that, Jim." The sullen angry tone was coming back into Blair's
voice, and Jim had to resist sighing. This was a test for his patience. Blair
had more personalities these days than Sybil'd had.
"No, I'm not.
Two weeks ago you couldn't even be here alone. A week ago you couldn't touch me
without shaking like a leaf in a wind storm. You're getting there, Chief. It
just takes time--and we have as much as you need."
Blair watched him
for a long time, those smoky blue eyes boring into his; until Jim had the idea
that Blair was trying to see into his soul. Whatever he was looking for he must
have found, because a small smile broke across those lips that hadn't smiled in
far too long; then Blair sighed, and leaned his head down so that it rested
lightly on Jim's shoulder. Jim sat frozen to the spot, unwilling to move lest
he startle Blair. Blair had voluntarily made contact with him! Had *initiated*
the contact!
He felt like
jumping up and down and screaming with joy--his Blair was getting better! He
finally remembered to breathe then, when his brain kicked back in. He glanced
over to Blair who was sitting quietly next to him; a small smile still on his
face. They sat like that, Blair's head on Jim's shoulder, fingers still
entwined, for the next hour.
*******************************
Which brought them
up to the present. Jim shook his head as got up from the table. He tossed some
coins down on the table for a tip and headed for the cash register. The
waitress was also cashiering, and she had the most predatory smile he'd ever
seen, on her face as she watched him approach.
"Need anything
else, hon?" She practically purred at him.
Jim repressed a
shudder and managed a civil No, Thanks answer. Time to go home. Hopefully,
Blair would be done doing whatever it was he had to do. It was, after all,
nearly 3:00pm...
**********************************
Dr. Peli says I
should keep a journal of my feelings. That it's a long journey I'm embarking
on, and I might want a road map; or some shit like that. I think it's a dumb
idea, but I promised I'd cooperate. This one's going to cover the first couple
of months, to be added to as necessary. Here goes.
Journal Entry #1 -
I wish I was dead. I wish
Caldwell was dead. I wish Jim didn't love me. I can't ever love him now and get
it right.
Journal Entry #2 -
I wish I was dead. I hate
the pain that fills me every day. I hate being afraid of noises, and smells. I
can't eat--food makes me sick. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Why me?
Journal Entry #3 -
I panicked today. Tonight.
Whatever. Jim left while I was asleep - why'd he do that - and I had a
nightmare--Caldwell was coming to get me...he was here, and Jim wasn't. I hated
Jim for that. Hated him for making me want him and need him so bad. I don't
even have a life anymore...I hate life right now.
Journal Entry #4 -
Jim touched me last night
and it was okay. We put our foreheads together, and... He cried with me...I
could feel the tears. I love him so much...
Journal Entry #5 -
I can't stand to have Jim
look at me anymore--it's too embarrassing. He knows too much about what
happened. How can he stand to live in the same house with me? What will happen
to me if he leaves? Or decides I need to leave? How can he still say he loves
me?
Journal Entry #6 -
I went outside today by
myself--and was okay. I stood on the patio and watched the sunset. I've missed
that.
Journal Entry #7 -
It's been a little over a
week. Dr. Peli says I'm making progress. I don't see it.
Journal Entry #8 -
Maybe this journal thing
isn't so bad...although I still don't like doing it. It hurts to have to write
this stuff down--bad enough to have to live through it without having to
analyze it...
I'm tired. I wish I could
sleep...all night. I don't have the nightmares every night anymore, but never
knowing when they'll come is keeping me from sleeping well. Jim's gone back up to
his own bed, and he seems so far away...further than when he was down here on
the couch. I could ask him to stay down here, but that seems so stupid, so
weak.
Journal Entry #9 -
I hate life. I hate me. If
I have to see Caldwell's face one more time when I close my eyes I might just
lose it.
Journal Entry #10 -
Everyone says it's not my
fault. I suppose deep down I know it too. But it's so hard to remember that--so
hard. I get so angry these days--at everyone, everything. I get angry at Jim,
and then feel guilty about it on top of everything else. He's been so good, so
patient...and I'm nattering on like an idiot. There are days I just want to
scream in his face to get the hell out of mine...then there are days I want to
beg him never to go away again--don't go to work, or the deli, or anywhere. No
where that he has to leave me. I hate feeling so dependent. I hate it.
Journal Entry #11 -
Naomi called today. I told
her what happened. She cried on the phone--I could hear it. I hate that I'm
causing so much pain to the people I love. How do I stop this?
Journal Entry #12 -
My bruises are all gone
now...no more physical signs that anything happened to me. I wish the
non-physical signs would go away too. Jim looks me like he's afraid I'm going
to break. Maybe I am.
Journal Entry #13 -
I almost wish I was back
in school right now--it would give me something to do. Sitting around here is
starting to make me feel worse.
Journal Entry #14 -
I'm going to start going
back to work with Jim in a day or so. I hope I can do this. Even part time. I
need to *do* something, before I lose what's left of my mind.
Journal Entry #15 -
It's been several weeks
now, and it's getting easier to do this, but I'm never going to like it. I'm
counting the days until I can stop...
I feel so out of
control--I react to everything, no matter how mundane it is. It's my fault if
the toast doesn't turn out; or the hot water is gone, or whatever. I'm so sick
of this--I'd like to go punch the shit out of someone--or something.
Journal Entry #16 -
How long is this going to
last? Dr. Peli and Jim both keep insisting I give it time...it hasn't even been
quite a month yet. Maybe, but they're not the ones who feel torn up inside...
Dirty. Used. I wish I could just start life over again--maybe I wouldn't even
look for Sentinels this time...if I hadn't, I'd never had met Jim...and
wouldn't have had this happen. No, that's not fair. It's not Jim's fault this
happened. Or is it?
Journal Entry #17 -
Jim caught me unaware
coming out of the shower tonight. How embarrassing. Worse, I could see his
reaction to me--to my body. How can he want me? Doesn't he see how awful I am?
Journal Entry #18 -
I went for a short walk tonight--the
moon was out, and everything looked clear and perfect. It's almost July. When
will I get to enjoy my summer?
Journal Entry #19 -
I'm having nightmares less
and less now. Maybe I'm finally starting to get better?
Journal Entry #20 -
I took Jim's hand
tonight--and held it. We touched foreheads again, and I put my head on his
shoulder. Caldwell is dead. I love Jim. Life is...?
Journal Entry #21 -
I laughed today. It felt
good. I haven't really laughed since before the...before it happened.
Journal Entry #22 -
One month down...how many
more to go? How long until I feel normal again? Will I *ever* feel normal
again? Have normal thoughts and feelings...?
I heard Jim this
morning--masturbating. I woke up early, and went out to the couch...he didn't
hear me. Is it me he's thinking about?
Journal Entry #23 -
I wish I could let Jim
touch me--I feel myself pull away from him anytime he gets too close. Which
isn't often--he's learned. It makes me so... It pisses me off. How long's it
going to take to get over this? So Caldwell fucked me. Worse things have
happened to people--why can't I let go of this?
Journal Entry #24 -
I asked Jim why he never
gets mad at me--I yell at him; why doesn't he yell back? He said he goes to the
gym and works out. He also said he has enough people at the station he can yell
at; why take it out on me? I laughed at that.
Journal Entry #25 -
I want to kiss Jim. I want
it so bad I can't stand it. But the thought of ever kissing anyone again tears
me up inside. I can't stand the thought of...of what that leads to. Oh,
God...please make all this stop.
Journal Entry #26 -
I went to my office
today--it was good to be back on campus. I'm going to teach again this fall.
Maybe.
Journal Entry #27 -
Jim's not doing counseling
by himself anymore. He's going to keep going with me though, as long as I want
him there. I told him I want him with me for as long as I can have him. He told
me I could have him forever.
Journal Entry #28 -
Naomi called again today.
!!! Two calls from mom in a month. She offered to come out, I told her not to.
I couldn't deal with her, too. I love her, but there's enough for me to have to
deal with right now.
Journal Entry #29 -
Jim called my name this
morning--he was masturbating again. He didn't call *to* me, just called my name
out. I don't think he realizes how early I wake up now. I had a hard time
looking at him when he came downstairs. I wish I could...
Journal Entry #30 -
I'm going to kiss Jim
today. I am.
*******************************************
Jim opened the door
to the loft and entered the stillness. All those sounds outside... "Chief?
You here?"
"In here,
Jim." Jim followed Blair's voice and found him staring into the mirror in
the bathroom.
"What're you
doing?"
"Just checking
things out. My hair's starting to grow out some."
Jim looked over the
cropped hair. Yeah, he could see where it'd begun to grow again. "Looks
good, Chief." *Like you.* Jim felt his gut tighten up. "Why?"
"Beg
pardon?"
"Why are you
checking things out?"
"Oh...just
curious. Plus, my new assignment, for the journals. I'm supposed to take some
time everyday to look at myself...write down what I feel when I do that, that
sort of thing." Blair turned away from the mirror, and gazed quizzically
at Jim. "What are you doing home so early?"
"I never did
go back to work, actually. Had some thinking to do myself. I went down and sat
around the Harbor-side Coffee House, but that got old. Plus the waitress was trying
to come on to me..." He trailed off as he realized what he'd said, but to
his relief Blair only laughed.
"You got
charm, Jim. Women from miles around can sense it."
Jim smiled.
"Let's get out of the bathroom, hmm? Unless you're not done--" He
gestured toward the mirror.
"No, I'm
finished." Blair motioned for Jim to go ahead of him, and they walked into
the living room. Jim sat down on the couch, and Blair continued into the
kitchen. "Want anything?"
"No,
thanks." Jim closed his eyes and listened to the sounds from the
kitchen--clinks, rattles...water running. "Blair? What are you
doing?"
"Making tea.
Want some?"
"No--I was
just wondering." Jim hesitated a moment, reluctant to say anything--Blair was
in such a good mood, which was such a change from moods lately--he wasn't sure
he wanted to be responsible for ruining it. "Chief?"
"Yeah,
Jim."
"About
today--in the session."
"Uh-huh?"
"Why'd you get
so mad about--" Damn, this was hard!
"About
what?"
"Exactly."
"Huh?"
"What were you
so mad about? We're not in any rush here--I'm content to wait until you're
ready to move to the next level in this relationship. Am I putting some kind of
pressure on you?"
Blair's face
appeared in the doorway. "No. I'm just sick and tired of being scared of
any kind of contact other than holding your hand. I want to hold you...and hug
you...and kiss you..."
"I want it
too--but not until you're ready for it."
"I want to be
ready for it, now! How long's it gonna take, man? I've been dancing around you
for months now. Aren't you tired of waiting?"
"No."
The quiet
simplicity of the answer brought Blair up short, and he gaped in surprise at
Jim. "What do you mean, 'No'?" Jim smiled slightly in amusement.
"Which part didn't you understand, Sandburg? No, I'm not tired of waiting.
You're worth waiting for. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. Quit trying
to make me."
There was stunned
silence, then the sound of the water kettle boiling. Blair ducked back into the
kitchen, and Jim leaned back against the couch cushions, eyes closed wearily.
He *was* tired of waiting, but he'd continue to wait until the end of time, if
necessary.
The couch shifted
next to him, and he opened his eyes to see Blair settling in next to him. They
regarded each other for a moment, then Blair reached his hand out to grasp
Jim's. He twined their fingers together, and Jim felt his body relaxing. He
loved to sit here like this, Blair next to him, hands clasped together. He
closed his eyes again, concentrating on the scents in the air--what was Blair
drinking? Peppermint...thyme... and something else he couldn't identify.
Another scent then; this one sharper...more pungent. Almost like fear--he
opened his eyes to see Blair watching him closely; he could hear his Guide's
heart thundering in his chest, could hear the increased respirations--could see
the sweat gathering on his brow. "You okay, Chief?"
"Yeah..."
Blair leaned forward and placed his cup on the table. "Fine." He
settled back onto the couch, and Jim could feel the pulse hammering through
Blair's veins. Whatever it was, Blair would either calm down in a moment, or
tell him. He knew better than anyone what Jim's senses were capable of. To his
surprise, Blair leaned slightly towards him then, increasing the pressure on
the hand he held. "Jim..." He almost sighed the word, then brushed
his lips across Jim's, and pulled back quickly.
"Blair..."
Jim sat there, feeling an idiotic grin spreading across his face. Oh,
God...Blair had just kissed him!
They sat there on
the couch, neither one saying a word; Blair shaking like he had chills. Jim
couldn't believe Blair had taken such a huge leap forward; Blair couldn't
believe Jim hadn't pulled away in disgust. He examined Jim closely. The
expression in his eyes--combined with the dopey grin that hadn't gone away
yet--were Blair's best clues that Jim really *did* want to kiss him. He wished
it were easier--he'd spent most of the hour with Dr. Peli talking about how to
go about doing something that took about ten seconds to complete. And it wasn't
even a real kiss...
"Chief?
Whatcha thinking about?"
"You.
Me."
"Ah. And what
about us?"
"Is there an
'us'?"
"Chief--there's
always been a us. The dynamic is still there--it's just changing form. Just
because we were *just* friends before didn't mean we weren't an 'us'."
Blair stared at him
in disbelief for a minute, then snorted with something suspiciously close to
laughter. "Man, you really have been with me too long. That sounds so like
something I'd spit out..."
"Consider it a
good influence, Chief. Now, what were you thinking about?"
"Kissing
you."
"You just
did." The dopey grin was back.
"No, I mean
really *kissing* you." The shaking was back, too.
"Blair...you
don't have anything to prove--"
Blair pulled away from
Jim and jumped to his feet. "Yes I do! I have to prove it to myself! I
want a normal life again! I want to be able to think...feel...love...all
without hurting because of something some asshole did to me. Especially since
that asshole's dead now!"
"Blair--"
Jim tried to interrupt the tirade, but Blair wouldn't let him.
"NO! *Listen*
to me, dammit! I'm tired of this. I want to kiss you so bad, Jim. I want to
hold you; touch you; feel you...I want to make love to you...and I'm so afraid
I'm never going to be able to..." Blair turned and ran into his room,
slamming the door behind him.
Jim sighed as he
settled back onto the couch, ears prickling with the sound of choking sobs. He
wasn't going to go after him. The events of the last couple of months had taught
him that his presence was unwelcome until Blair was ready to talk. What had
happened, though? Blair had kissed him. Then what? He shook his head, not sure
he even followed all aspects of the conversation they'd just had.
*******************************
He sat there for
over an hour, just staring out the window. The sobs had tapered off, then quit
all together; still Blair hadn't emerged from his room. He listened closely and
could hear the slow, deep sounds of sleeping respirations. Maybe a nap wasn't such
a bad idea. Jim shifted himself down on the couch, and shoved one of the small
pillows under his head. After scooting around for a minute he finally found a
comfortable position, and closed his eyes, drifting off in minutes.
He woke sometime
later to the feel of fingers on his face...tracing the outline of his lips and
cheeks, moving slowly, learning the planes and angles. Blair was kneeling on
the floor next to the couch, and started a bit when Jim opened his eyes, but
left his fingers where they were.
"You're so
beautiful." The fingers skimmed past his lips again, moving upward toward
his brow ridges.
"Thanks."
What else was he supposed to say to that? "Blair? Can I...I want
to...touch you. Your hair. Can I?"
Blair nodded,
almost shyly. "Yeah--I think it's okay." He held himself still,
hardly breathing, while Jim brought a hand up, gently twining the short curls
through his fingers. After a moment he started breathing again, and although
Jim could tell his heart rate had increased it didn't sound unduly stressed.
Jim closed his eyes
at the sensation of Blair's hair on his skin. It was soft...it felt like raw
silk moving over his fingertips. He breathed in, noting the scent--which was
one that combined to make up "Blair"--it smelled faintly like aloe
and evergreen. There was another scent, a little more elusive...but strong in
its own right. It was...
Lips on his. Warm
lips, pressing down on his. The sound of an increasing heartbeat. A tongue
slipping past his lips, to be removed just as it touched his own. Then the
warmth was gone, and Jim's eyes were flying open to look at Blair--who was
staring down at him, an unfathomable expression in his eyes. Pheromones. That's
what he'd been smelling.
Jim let go of the
curls he'd been playing with, and slowly brought his hand around to cup Blair's
cheek; telling him with his eyes that all he had to do was say no. To his
surprise Blair leaned into his hand. Jim could feel Blair shaking--hell, *he*
was shaking--but Blair didn't pull away. Instead, he pulled Jim's head down
towards him, and tucked it into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. Blair
held Jim there, rocking slowly back and forth, until he stopped his shaking.
Then he just held him, savoring the ability to do so after so long. God, he'd
loved this man for so long...and to finally be able to express it in some way
other than verbal... He hugged Jim tighter to him, unaware of the tears
slipping down his cheeks.
***********************************
Summer was moving
past them quickly, but it was okay with Blair now. He was making real
progress--some days he felt almost like his old self again. Giving himself
permission to touch Jim had helped immensely. All he'd needed to do was get
past the fear...and the support was there.
He'd resumed his
place at Jim's side full-time now--or as full-time as it had ever been. Jim had
been right--no one remarked about his absence, or even the fact that he
appeared skittish when first he reappeared. Only one person had asked about his
health--Elsie, a file clerk whom he'd had in one of his classes a couple of
semesters back. And even that was just a casual question--he didn't detect any
particular prying in it.
Things had been
fairly quiet in Cascade for the last couple of months, something that Jim was
going to be eternally grateful for. Looking back now, he knew he never would
have been able to deal with a heavy work load as well as try to be there for
Blair. And since they had to eat, and needed a place to stay...well, he was
just grateful he hadn't had to choose which one he'd have dealt with. Simon was
his friend, but that didn't mean preferential treatment. Blair was settling
back into routine, and appeared a lot more relaxed and at ease with things
again.
They had not
progressed beyond cuddling, and occasional kisses; but Jim wasn't pushing. He
had told Blair that night, after Blair first kissed him; he was letting him set
the pace. The control was Blair's--how fast or slow they went.
"I've gone for
a year or more at a time without sex, Chief. A few months...six
months...whatever, isn't going to kill me. I'm not some 16 year old kid who
can't keep his pants zipped. And if the tension gets too much--I know how to
relieve it."
Blared had stared
at him after this frank commentary. "I still feel like a tease..."
"Well, don't.
Any contact I have with you is heaven. I don't care if you kiss me--or just
hold my hand. When you're ready for more, we'll do more. Until then, Don't.
Worry. About. It. Got it?"
Blair had shaken
his head, not quite able to believe what Jim was telling him, but unwilling to
disbelieve. "Sure, man."
*******************************
That familiar
heartbeat was now within his range of hearing, heading toward him. His body tightened
up with the slightly uncomfortable sensation that he'd grown used to, and he
willed it to relax. This was definitely not the time or the place. It wasn't
that he cared so much what other people thought--who he was involved with was
his own business, not theirs--but he didn't feel a need to flaunt his private
life. And he *hated* people who gossiped; hating providing grist for the mill.
The elevator pinged open, and the object of his attentions bounced off, proving
to him just how attuned his body was toward Blair.
"Hey,
Jim."
"Morning,
Chief. Car running okay?" Jim took a drink of his now-cold coffee, and
watched his partner settle down in the chair next to his. The scent that made
up Blair surrounded him, and he felt dizzy for a moment.
"Yeah--finally.
Didn't want to turn over this morning." Blair made a dismissive gesture.
His car was an antique that would probably just up and die one day. "What
do we have today?"
"Nothing yet.
Simon said he'd have something for us in a little while--paperwork is still
being processed on something." Jim regarded Blair--he
looked...happy...this morning. That was something different. "You doin'
okay, Chief?"
"I'm fine,
Jim. I haven't felt this good in a long time."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah--I think
I'm finally over it all. Put it behind me."
"Really."
Jim felt his heart thud to a stop. Dr. Peli had cautioned him this might
happen. It could be for real, but probably wasn't. Not denial, exactly; but a
false feeling of readjustment, followed by a more intense period of *actual*
readjustment. Jim sighed. He hoped this was the real thing; but given how
skittish Blair still was around him he doubted it.
"Yep. Never
felt better. Might even cancel the appointment this week."
"Don't do that
Chief. Not yet, okay?"
"Mmm."
"Chief--"
He didn't get to finish his comment when he was interrupted by Simon.
"Ellison,
Sandburg--my office!"
They exchanged
looks, and hurried in to see the Captain.
"What've you
got for us, Sir." Simon was rifling through a file on his desk, and didn't
look up when they entered the room.
"Sit down,
gentlemen. Nasty one. Real nasty one. Here." Simon handed them each a file
which contained several close-up shots of a murder victim; a victim who
appeared to have been at least physically assaulted, before death. "Same
M.O. -- He picks his victims up in gay bars around town, then assaults them,
then kills them. Every body is tied ritually like that--and then drained of
blood." Simon looked up from his desk to see Jim staring at Blair, who'd
gone dead white.
"I'm
okay," the younger man whispered. "Go on."
"I'm sorry,
Sandburg."
"Blair--you
don't have to do this one with me."
"Yes, I do.
Go, on, Captain."
Blair could feel
Jim's eyes on him during the briefing. He tried to make a few suggestions, but
found his brain unable to think coherently. God, this was just like Caldwell.
This guy was doing things to these poor guys...just like he'd had done to him.
*You're still alive,* flashed his brain. *For how long?* replied his alter-ego.
*As long as I can manage.* *You'd be surprised how quickly that'll go...*
******************************
They left to talk
to witnesses, and the victims' families. Jim was silent as he pulled the truck
out of the station parking garage. There was no way he could let Blair remain
on this case. He tried to tell himself that it was Blair he was protecting, but
deep down he knew it was himself, too. He didn't want any more readjustment
periods. Especially not if they were flashbacks caused by the job. It was a
selfish attitude, he knew; but Jesus God--it'd been a long couple of months.
Fortunately for
him, it appeared that whatever Deity watched over his--and Blair's--lives, was
in a merciful mood that day. Jim and Blair had gotten no further than on the
case than driving toward the first victim's home when Simon called them and
said that likely they had their suspect in custody; the man wasn't quite as
smart as he thought he was, and had tried to pick up the younger brother of one
of the cops at the station. They headed back to the station.
"You weren't
going to let me work with you on this, were you?" Blair's tone had been
conversational, but Jim could detect a hint of steel beneath the words. He
chose his own words, and modulated his voice, carefully.
"I was going
to wait and see what happened--"
"Cut the crap,
man. We both know you weren't going to let me go with you. You think I didn't
hear what you told Simon? It doesn't take me that long to find stuff on your
desk, man. You're *way* too organized."
"Blair, I'm
sorry--"
"Just shut up,
okay? I thought I could trust you--"
Jim slammed on the
brakes and pulled to the side of road. "Listen, Sandburg. This has
*nothing* to do with trust!"
"Yes it does!
You don't trust me to tell you if I can't handle it."
"Maybe because
you haven't earned that trust! You jump in, feet first, without considering
consequences. You really expect me to believe you'd be *comfortable* talking to
people who'd had their sons, brothers, whatever--*raped* and *murdered* by some
lying bastard who's a clone for what Caldwell was?" Jim tried to control
his breathing. Oh, shit--he'd lost it. He'd been afraid for so long that it
would happen at some point. He breathed through his nose, trying to calm down,
and was surprised to see that Blair was doing the same. He was out of line. Blair
didn't deserve to be yelled at, just for being Blair. "Blair, I--"
"That was a
little uncalled for, Jim."
"I know. I
just--Oh, Christ. I worry about you, Blair. You go off half-cocked, and never
stop to consider what the repercussions might be...I don't know what I'd do if
something happened to you."
"Something
like what?"
"I don't know.
Another emotional shock--I don't know if either of us could take another one,
right now. You should have seen your face, Chief, when Simon gave us those
file. You were dead white. Not pale, *white*." Jim took a deep breath, and
exhaled slowly. "Just give this some time, Chief. You're better, but
you're not totally healed yet."
"How do you
know?"
"Because you
still flinch when I touch you. Because *I* can't initiate contact with
you...because I can still hear you crying sometimes after you have a
nightmare--even if you don't wake me up; I wake up." He considered his
words, looked at Blair's face. He was very pale, eyes wide in shock...but calm.
"I'm sorry, Chief."
"For what?"
"What?"
"What are you
sorry for?"
"Oh, shit. For
yelling, for--"
"For saying
the truth?"
There was silence
while they watched each other. Jim nodded. "Yes."
Blair shook his
head. "Jim--I'm okay about this, man. Maybe I wouldn't have been, I don't
know. You were, like, way out of line to assume you know what's best for
me...but I know what motivated it. I love you too, man. I just wish you'd trust
me a little more; give me that chance. I might surprise you one of these days,
and actually listen to you."
Jim laughed
shakily. "You? In this lifetime? As for surprising me--you already have,
Chief." He reached out to squeeze Blair's hand with his, and felt his
heart jump when Blair returned the caress, and added a quick kiss to the palm
before releasing his hand.
"Let's get
back to the station, Jim. Maybe they have a nice safe bank robbery waiting for
us."
Jim laughed as he
put the truck in gear, and pulled back onto the road.
*******************************
Blair squeezed his
eyes shut, and tried to block the images that were filling his mind. He hadn't
been asleep very long when the nightmare began; now he couldn't even get it out
of his mind while wide awake. *Must be a leftover courtesy of today.* Jim's
distrust in his ability to know where to draw the line was occasionally
warranted. Blair tended to act first, think later. Then pay the price. Like
now.
He got out of bed,
and stood by the window, peering outside. He thought about today--that was the
first really big case he'd worked on--even if it hadn't lasted long. Most of
Jim's work was a little less spectacular--car-jackings, kidnappings...bank
robbery. Less often rapes, and murder cases. Figure the odds of the
rapist/murderer being one who preferred men... He shook his head. He was never
going to get back to sleep at this rate. He didn't want to go back to his bed,
either. Not right now. Couch? He couldn't sleep on it like Jim could. It was
too soft. Maybe Jim would let him stay with him for a while. They could cuddle.
Holding Jim was like a dream for him, even after the last month of doing so.
Even though they spent most evenings sitting on the couch holding on to each
other, it never seemed like enough. He wanted so much more...he was just
hesitant about taking those last steps. He turned from the window and walked
out of his room, coming to rest at the foot of the steps.
"Hey--Jim? Are
you awake?"
There was a muffled
noise, then Jim's voice. "Yeah, Chief. You okay?"
"I--had a
nightmare."
"You want me
to come down?"
"Actually, I was
wondering if I could...come up."
There was a pause,
then Jim said, "Sure. Come on."
Blair climbed the
stairs, and found Jim curled onto his side, looking very wide awake for a man
who'd been in bed for a while. He waved Blair over, and said, "Climb on in."
"Thanks,
man." Blair walked around the bed, and climbed in. He snuggled down under
the comforter, moving instinctively toward the heat of Jim's body. He spooned
up behind him, and casually draped an arm across Jim's side, and wondered about
the tenseness he felt in the other man. "Jim? What is it?"
"I was
just...ah...oh, shit." Jim finished with the expletive as Blair moved his
hand and bumped into his erection.
Blair was silent
for a minute. "I can leave."
"No, it's
okay. I told you, we do this on your terms. I was just..."
"You were
jerking off when I hollered up, weren't you."
"Yes."
"You don't
have to stop on my account, man." Jim rolled on to his back and gave Blair
a shocked look. The younger man had sounded almost amused. "Or I
could...finish it for you." There was no amusement in that statement. Only
seriousness, sincerity.
"Blair..."
"I mean it. I
could do that for you. If you want me to."
"Only if *you*
want to. I can live with it--it'll go away."
"I want to,
Jim. Really." Blair reached for him.
"Oh,
God..." Jim couldn't help the groan that fell from his lips as Blair
wrapped his hand around his erection. "Jesus, Chief." He whispered
the words, and arched into Blair's hand, hips already moving. Blair leaned in
to him, and kissed him; softly at first, then harder. He stroked Jim, moving
his hand increasingly faster until Jim stiffened under him, thrust hard against
his hand, and came with a cry on his lips. Blair. Jim was calling *his* name as
he came...
"Better?"
Blair whispered against Jim's lips.
"Yes... Oh,
God, Babe...I love you..."
"I love you
too, Jim." He snuggled into Jim's side and fell asleep.
Jim lay awake for a
long time, wondering what the far-reaching effects of this would be.
*******************************
The sun was high in
the sky when Blair woke the next morning, momentarily disoriented by not being
in his own bed. Jim's bed. The nightmare from last night came back; along with
the rest of it. Jim wasn't next to him, but since he could hear the shower, he
knew where he was. Memories of last night flooded through him. He'd masturbated
Jim. Stroked him, held him, kissed him. Made him come. Blair shivered as
unaccustomed feelings and sensations poured through his body. He was getting
hard, he thought with a feeling of wonder. That hadn't happened in a long time.
Last night had seemed right, though.
He let his hand
drift downward, feeling the pleasurable tightening of stomach muscles as he got
closer and closer to his stiffening penis. He stroked himself gently;
slowly...enjoying the sensations that rippled outward and spread through his
body. He didn't even realize when he began thrusting against his hand--he was
too caught up in the feelings going along with it. With a gasp of surprise he
came into his own hand, and lay there panting; conflicting emotions of all
sorts running through him.
Jim had been just
finishing up his shower when he heard Blair's heart rate increase, as well as
his breathing. He shut the water off, and reached for a towel, ready to go to
him if he was having a nightmare. He was glad it was Saturday, and he could let
Blair sleep in--he'd looked so peaceful - finally - this morning. Blair's
vitals increased, and Jim drew up short as he realized he heard another sound
he hadn't heard from Blair in a long time--flesh rubbing against flesh. He
heard the grunt of surprise, and suddenly his senses were filled with the
erotic, musky scent of Blair's essence. Jim felt his own body tightening in
response, and looked down, half in amusement, half in disgust.
*No*, he thought.
*You had an incredible treat last night. You'll just have to wait a while.* He
concentrated on thinking about the paperwork he had to do at work, and finally
felt his erection going down.
By the time he'd
finished in the bathroom Blair had come downstairs and had made coffee. He was
sitting at the table, coffee cup in his hand, staring down at the paper. He had
a strange look on his face that Jim couldn't begin to define; but he didn't
seem troubled in any way. More...thoughtful. Turned inward.
Blair looked up
when he heard Jim come out of the bathroom, and felt something catch in his
throat. Clad in nothing but a pair of worn jeans, Jim was beautiful. Absolutely
gorgeous. "News says the guy they caught yesterday confessed to the
killings."
"That's good."
Jim headed for the kitchen. "You hungry, Chief?"
"No."
"Okay. What do
you want to do today?"
"Do we have to
do anything?"
"No--not if
you don't want to."
"No...I don't
feel very good. My head hurts."
"You're not
coming down with something, are you?"
"I don't think
so. Maybe just sinuses."
"Well,
whatever. I've got some stuff around here I need to do."
"You don't
have to hang around here because of me, man. Go, do whatever you need to."
Jim re-appeared
from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and some cereal. "I'm not hanging
around because of you, Chief. I really do have some stuff to do. Laundry, for a
start."
"So you don't
want to be here with me."
Jim set his cup
down and looked at Blair, wondering when he'd fallen down Alice's hole.
"What are you talking about, Sandburg? It's Saturday. Sometimes we run
errands on Saturday; sometimes we do stuff around the house--sometimes I catch
up on paperwork. What's the problem here? I only wondered if there was anything
you needed to do, or wanted to do."
Blair gave him a
sullen look...which set off alarms in Jim's head. "Don't worry about me,
*Ellison*. I'll take care of it myself."
"Blair...talk
to me. What's wrong?" Jim got up from his chair and moved over next to
Blair. He brought his hands up to cup Blair's face, but a swift block from the
younger man stopped him.
"Don't touch
me."
"What's wrong?
Please, tell me. Let me help. Did I do something? Is it last night? I knew I
shouldn't have let you--"
"You didn't
*let* me do anything, Jim. I offered; I wanted to. This isn't about you--it's
about me."
"What about
you?"
"I'm no
good..."
"What?"
Jim was starting to feel way in over his head.
"I shouldn't
use you like that--for my own pleasure. I shouldn't--" Blair began to gag,
and Jim pulled out of his way as Blair vaulted off the chair for the bathroom.
Shit.
Jim followed him,
not sure if he was welcome, but feeling like he needed to be there.
"Blair?"
Retching noises
greeted him. Jim took a step into the bathroom, then moved behind Blair. He
pulled Blair's hair back from his face; held it with one hand, and gently
stroked the hot forehead with the other. After several long minutes Blair
pushed himself back, and when Jim let go he sat down on the tile floor. Jim wet
a washcloth and handed it to Blair, then ran the tap and filled a glass of
water for him. Blair rinsed out his mouth, then stood up.
Jim gestured toward
the living room. "You okay?" At Blair's nod he continued, "I'll
be right out there, if you need me. Come on out when you're done." He left
the room and began pacing the living room, waiting. A good ten minutes passed
before the toilet flushed, and a very bedraggled looking Blair appeared. Jim
raised his eyebrow, but didn't say anything.
"I'm okay,
man. Shit, I thought I was all *over* all of this. I felt so good
yesterday...and last night." He shook his head, and wandered over to the
couch.
Jim sat down
cautiously, not next to him, but at the opposite end. Whatever had brought this
on had more to do with Blair than with him; but he didn't want the other man to
feel trapped. "Want to tell me what happened?"
"Do I have a
choice?"
"You always
have a choice, Chief. But I think you need to talk."
Blair laughed, a
short, harsh sound. "You've been hanging around the shrink too long."
He sighed, and stared down at his hands, which were twisting in his lap.
"Last night was so great, man. I know all I did was...you know. But I
liked making you feel good. Knowing that it was me doing that..." He
stopped, gathering his thoughts. "But then this morning, I was thinking
about it--about you--and I got hard. And I liked that feeling.
"I haven't
done that--or felt that way in a while. Like my body was finally rediscovering
itself, you know? But I was doing it, thinking of you. I was using thoughts of
you to bring myself off--I'm no better than Caldwell was..."
"Oh, God,
Blair. There's *nothing* wrong with that! That's not using someone. That's
remembering something beautiful, and reliving it. Almost a tribute. I know what
you did--I could smell you. And I got hard again, just from that."
"You
did?"
"Yes."
"But you
didn't do anything--did you?"
Jim shook his head.
"I didn't want to then--I just enjoyed the moment. I don't want to move
too fast for you."
"Well, see.
You're a better person. I couldn't stop--I had to keep going."
"Blair... Did
it feel good, touching yourself?"
"Yes."
"Did you hurt
anyone? Me, you, anyone else?"
"No."
"So what's so
wrong? I'm flattered that you thought about me."
"I don't know.
It just doesn't seem right."
"You used to
masturbate before."
"Yeah."
"What'd you do
then?"
"What do you
mean?"
"What'd you
think of, before. When you stroked yourself, who or what were you thinking
about."
"...you,
usually."
"So what's so
different now?"
"I don't
*know*! It just seemed wrong. Caldwell talked about--" Blair broke off,
realizing he'd said the one thing he'd never meant to tell Jim.
Jim zeroed in on
the panicked look on Blair's face, and knew they'd hit upon something.
"Caldwell talked about *what*, Chief?"
"You."
"Me? In what
way?"
"Just...about
you. While he was...j-jerking me o-off. He made me think about you...He k-knew
that I l-l-love you..."
Blair closed his
eyes as the tears cascaded down his cheeks. Jim had to clench his fists again,
truly glad for the first time that there was no chance that Caldwell could ever
come into their lives again. "Jim?"
"Yeah,
Chief?"
"Would
you...would you hold me? I n-need to f-feel you..." Blair was hugging his
arms tightly around himself, rocking back and forth. Jim scooted across the
couch and wrapped Blair into his embrace, following the rocking motion. He
stroked the curly hair that had nearly grown out, and murmured soothing noises
under his breath. Blair buried his face in Jim's chest, and cried for what
seemed like forever. When the storm had passed he snuggled further into the
embrace and relaxed, falling asleep. Jim shifted them so that he was in a
better position to hold Blair, then he dozed off, too.
A car honking its
horn on the street below woke him, and he saw he'd only been asleep for about
twenty minutes. Blair was still out, his breathing deep and even. Jim shifted
slightly so he could stroke Blair's hair, and thought about what had been
revealed this morning. That had *never* come up before; Blair had never
mentioned anything about what Caldwell had said to him...no, wait. Yes he did.
"Jim's boy-toy"--the phrase had struck him as odd when Blair first
used it, but he didn't think much of it at the time. Caldwell had been pretty
psychotic, and Jim tended to view anything he said or did liberally. No wonder
Blair had been having such a hard time--Caldwell took the feelings he had for
Jim, and warped them around and made them part of the sick stuff he'd done to
him. He sighed. Well, it was out in the open now; maybe they could begin
progressing forward once again.
*******************************
Journal Entry - #?
I thought I was done with
this stupid journal, but after Jim brought up what happened this weekend in our
session today, Dr. Peli recommended I keep going with it. It's not that I mind
the idea of writing so much...just writing about all this. I hate even thinking
about that bastard, and what he did to me--writing about it's worse.
I really hate life again
right now. Jim and I were doing so well--I was able to kiss him and hold
him...one time jacking him off and I lose it. What a loser I'm turning out to
be. I'm back to not touching Jim at all--or letting him touch me, except on my
hand. I get the willies whenever he does; I'm afraid I'll use that against him.
He says it's alright, and he understands, but I can see the sadness in his
eyes. God, that I brought him to this. I wish I could die right now, and just
be done with it. I think I'm too much of a coward to even do that though.
* * * * *
Journal Entry #1 -
Guess it's my turn to
write. Dr. Peli suggested I do it as well, since the next so many days or weeks
are probably going to be pretty rough. I turned down personal counseling--for
now. I still think that the sessions with Blair will be enough; but left the
option open. I wonder why Blair didn't want me to know about the rest of that
with Caldwell? After everything else did he think it would disgust me any more?
It does--only insofar as that it was done to him. He had no control over the
situation.
I *never* should have let
him in bed with me that night. Of course, when I said that, Dr. Peli said if it
hadn't been that, it would have been something else. Shit. I guess we're not
going to avoid this after all. Shit.
* * * * *
Journal Entry #? -
Who the fuck cares what
number it is? As if anyone's gonna read this but me. God, I want nothing more
than to kill myself, get done with this. What's stopping me? Jim is, I guess.
Oh, I don't think he knows I feel like this--it's more like letting him down
after all he's done for me. I don't think I could stand to disappoint him. I
love him too much for that... I hope this gets better soon. I wish there was
something I could do to change all of this...
* * * * *
Journal Entry #2 -
I'm worried--really
worried--about Blair. He walks around mumbling to himself about dying; I know
he's thinking it. I wish like hell there was something I could do, besides just
*be* here--but I don't know what it would be. He doesn't want to talk; or
touch; or anything. He's let me know in no uncertain terms to stay out of his
way, and leave him alone. Dr. Peli told me this is like the storm before the
sun comes out; but it feels like regression to me. How can he be getting better
if he acts like he's getting worse? I keep telling myself that he's getting
better, because I want so bad to believe it's true. How long can this last? I'm
taking a temporary leave of absence. I'd never forgive myself if something
happened to him while I was at work...and he's in no condition to go with me.
* * * * *
Journal Entry -
I'm not going to worry
about numbering them--it doesn't matter. This may be my last one anyway...
No. I don't really want to
do that, do I? I'm so confused right now. I thought I was getting
better...thought I'd put it behind me. Dr. Peli says that it's not unusual to
have set-backs like this. Well, this doesn't feel like a set-back. I've had
those. This feels like a major fucking failure. I was getting better--what
happened? I don't even feel like I can face Jim anymore...
* * * * *
Journal Entry -
This is kind of weird to
try and explain. I don't really understand it myself. Blair acts almost like
he's waiting for a sign or signal of some sort from me before he... I feel like
I'm walking on eggshells here. I've talked to Dr. Peli--I called him in a panic
last night when I heard Blair mumbling to himself about how easy it would be.
He's been listening to the weirdest music--even for him. Celtic stuff, from the
sounds of it (who'd ever thought I'd be able to *identify* that stuff?); but
this is *eery*. It sounds like death sounds through trees. Nice going, Jim.
Good visual there. Shit. Dr. Peli says that unless Blair actually tries
to...God, I can't even write it...Unless he actually makes an attempt; there
isn't much we can do. Talking about dying is natural. Yeah, right. Not for
Sandburg.
* * * * *
Journal Entry -
This has got to stop. I
feel like I'm splitting into two personalities. One half of me is arguing to
just give it up, let it go...get over it. It's been almost six months now...I
should be making some sort of progress here. The other half of me is arguing to
give in. Let the feelings take hold of me, sweep me away. I'm scared to do that
though; the abyss is deep, and I doubt I'd come back. Death is a pretty
permanent thing. So, what do I do? Giving in would be so easy, sometimes. I lay
here on my bed, wondering why in the hell Jim still says he's in love with me.
Oh, I don't doubt what he says--I can see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.
But *why*? Why does he still love me? Does he see something in me, something
worth redeeming? If so, what would it take...before I felt cleansed enough to
*feel* worthy of him? I sometimes feel like I could stand in the shower 24
hours a day, and still never come clean.
* * * * *
Journal Entry--
There's been a shift in
attitudes. Blair's more...contemplative, I guess. I haven't seen him in almost
24 hours--finally came up to my room last night, after camping on the couch for
the last couple of nights. I wonder what he's thinking...I wish he'd share it
with me. God knows, I'm not the world's leading person on insight; but I'd like
to help. I feel like we've reached an impasse, and I'm not sure how to get past
it. We have another appointment tomorrow with Dr. Peli--hopefully he'll have
some suggestions on what to do. I feel so helpless over this. It's Blair's
struggle, but I can't help wanting to do it for him.
* * * * *
Journal Entry -
Now I know how zoo animals
must feel. I finally retreated into my room--Jim was beginning to unnerve me. I
know he's concerned, but I just don't feel like I can talk about anything yet.
I've started writing some poetry. God, I haven't done anything like that since
what, high school? Probably. The imagery isn't pretty, but it's not as bad as
it was a couple of days ago. I am *not* writing it in this journal. It's bad
enough to have to write this in the first place... Besides, I have plans for
some of that poetry--sending it up in smoke is a good place to start. Dr. Peli
says that sometimes doing that will help the memories to fade. He also
recommended I write a letter to Caldwell, as if I were going to send it to him.
Just let everything out...don't hold anything back. I'm going to try to do that
tomorrow. I don't know...if I let that much anger out, will I be able to
control it again? I just realized...I don't want to die anymore. I don't know
what I feel, exactly...but I know I don't want to end my life. I guess that's
progress, isn't it?
* * * * *
Journal Entry -
Well, I did it. I wrote
that damn letter. I did it today, after Jim went back to work. There was no
*way* I was going to be able to do it with him hanging around. I was right,
too--I almost couldn't control it. I didn't realize just how angry I really
was. I've never felt such all-consuming rage before, over anything. I had to
stop and start over several times before I was able to finish it. I punched a
hole in my wall too, behind the door. If I'm lucky, Jim won't notice it for a
long time...and maybe won't care, when he does. It felt good, getting that
anger out. Like some cancerous growth being cut away. I don't feel great
yet--I'm still scared, nervous, anxious. But I'm not angry; well, not *as*
angry. I've got an idea of how to cleanse myself, but I'm going to need Jim's
help to pull it off--and I don't know if he'll go along with it. I'm going to
ask him tonight when he gets home from work. He's said all along that he wants
to help in anyway he can...I'm going to test that. Wish me luck...
***********************************
Jim came back from
a run around the block that evening, and found Blair sitting at the table,
eating--something he hadn't done much of in far too long. He looked up and
actually smiled at Jim.
"Hey, Chief.
How're you feeling tonight?"
"Better. I've
been doing a lot of writing lately."
"Yeah?" Jim
sat down next to him, and tried not to breathe in Blair's scent too deeply.
"Yeah--Dr.
Peli was right, much as I hate to admit it. It gets easier writing about it.
Some of it I tear up--that helps too. Destroy the memories."
"Does it
help?"
"Well, I've
only done it a couple of times so far, but yeah..it does."
"I'm
glad."
"Yeah,
man...me too."
Jim pushed up from
the table. "Listen, Chief. I need to take a shower. I ran hard tonight.
I'll be back out in a few, and we'll talk some more, okay?"
"Sure, Jim."
Blair smiled at him again, and Jim felt his heart contract. Along with other
parts of his anatomy that he'd been trying to ignore.
He stood under the
hot water, welcoming the heat that pounded down on him. Too bad they didn't
make hot water tanks bigger--What was that?
"That you,
Chief?"
"Yeah.
Sorry--forgot I needed something."
"No
sweat." Jim turned away from the curtain and bent to pick up the bar of
soap. He turned around in shock as the curtain pulled away and Blair stepped
into the shower with him. "Blair? What're you doing?"
"Symbolism,
Jim. Help me get clean. Help me wash myself."
Blair pulled the
curtain closed on the shower and stepped toward Jim. "Please, Jim. I need
this. Help me, okay?"
"How far are
you planning on taking this, Blair?"
"I don't know.
I'll stop you when it's not comfortable any more. Is that all right? I
can't...I need to do this--"
"It's fine,
Chief. I'll help, gladly." Jim took hold of Blair's shoulders, and turned
them around so that Blair was under the spray. He stared down at him. Blair was
watching him, his eyes huge in his face; an imploring look in them. He stepped
closer, almost as if to test Blair's resolve, and was surprised and pleased
when the younger man didn't flinch or move. He drew Blair to him, then cupped
his face in his hands, and lowered his mouth until it was just barely touching
Blair's. "Are you sure?" He asked one last time, breathing the
question across Blair's lips.
"Yes."
One word, but it
was all Jim needed to hear. He moved his lips against Blair's, and felt them
part beneath his. Hot, sweet...so sweet. Blair flicked his tongue against
Jim's, and shivered as the other man groaned. They kissed for several long
minutes, then Jim drew away. "Okay?"
Blair laughed, a
little shakily. "So far, so good."
"Good."
Jim reached down for the bar of soap, and began working up a lather.
"Let's get you clean, Chief." He used his hands as a washcloth,
spreading the lather around Blair; working his way down from his neck to his
toes. He could feel Blair alternately tensing and relaxing under his hands, and
wondered what had brought on this idea of cleansing. He massaged the body under
his hands as he washed it, trying to bring as much pleasure to Blair as he
could. He could feel the younger man's nipples harden as his fingertips slid
across them; but he didn't linger, because that wasn't what this was about. He
worked his way downward, and wasn't surprised that by the time he'd reached
Blair's waist the younger man's erection was nudging him in the thigh. He
brushed his hands tentatively over it, then knelt in front of Blair, and looked
up at him. "Chief?"
Blair nodded, and
let out pent-up breath in one great gasp. "Yes." He gasped again,
then groaned when Jim's mouth closed over him. "Oh, God... Oh, Jim...it's
so good..." Jim shifted closer, and began running his tongue up and down
the shaft, and under it; taking Blair's testes into his mouth, sucking on them
gently. He felt the body under his hands begin to tense, and wasn't surprised
to feel hands grasping at his head, pulling him back to the straining erection.
"Suck me,
Jim..." Blair sounded breathless, but in control, so Jim opened his mouth
and relaxed his throat, taking him as far in as he could. He sucked in time to
Blair's thrusts; keeping the suction strong as Blair increased his speed. He
felt Blair stiffen up, and try to pull back, but he didn't release him until
Blair shot into his mouth. He sucked gently until he'd gotten all Blair had to
offer, then let go; arms catching Blair as he sank to his knees next to him,
panting. He stroked wet hair off Blair's forehead, and planted a kiss there.
"I love you,
Blair."
"I love you
too, Jim."
"Let's get out
before we freeze to death."
That caught Blair
by surprise and he laughed in agreement. He and Jim sluiced water over each
other to rinse the last of the soap off, then climbed out of the shower, and
dried each other off. When they were dry they put on their shorts, and walked
out to the living room. Jim went in the kitchen and came back with two beers,
and handed one to Blair, then sat down on the coffee table in front of him.
"How do you
feel?"
Blair looked at
him, considering. "Better, I think."
"Clean?"
"Cleaner,
anyway. Thank you."
"My
pleasure."
"I mean
it."
"So do I. Anytime
I can touch you, and make you feel good, that's what I want to do for you,
Blair. That's what love is about--making the other person feel good. Caring,
being there--it's all wrapped up into one big package."
"I know."
Blair paused, looking for the words to express what he needed to say. "I
think... I think I'd like to start sleeping with you, if that's okay?"
"You don't
mean--"
"No, I don't
think I'm ready for that yet. But soon, I hope. Meanwhile, I'd like to curl up
with you at night. Is that all right, man?"
"It's perfect,
Blair." Jim held his arms out, and Blair went willingly into them, content
with the progress made.
***********************************
It was only the
beginning of November, and the Christmas decorations were firmly in place.
Blair shook his head as he watched the store fronts flash by. All Jim would
tell him when he asked was they were going to Vancouver, and he'd see when they
got there. After a while he quit asking.
"What do you
think about how commercialism is taking over Christmas?"
"Huh?"
Jim looked up, startled out his thoughts by the odd question.
"Yeah, I
figured you were way in your head, man." Blair laughed at him. "Never
mind."
"No, what'd
you say?"
"I asked what
you think about the commercialism behind Christmas."
"Can't stand
it, myself."
"Yeah, me
neither."
"Chief--you're
Jewish."
"So?"
"So,
what?"
"So, I've
celebrated Christmas--usually just the tree stuff and the presents. We didn't
do the religious end."
"And that's
different?"
"Hey, Naomi
and I didn't do it at all if she was in between men. But since she usually
ended up with Gentiles..." Blair spread his hands in joking supplication.
"Wasn't my idea."
Jim snorted, and
slowed the truck. "Almost there, Sandburg."
"So, you gonna
tell me where we going?"
"No. Not
yet."
"Geez,
Man--you're trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?"
"It's good for
you, Chief. Teaches you a little patience."
Blair snickered,
then mumbled under his breath; "Pot calling the kettle black."
"What did you
say?"
"You heard me."
Jim turned the
truck off the main street, and onto a side road. Blair watched out the window
in anticipation--even with all the mystery (or maybe because of it?) he was
excited--he'd never been to Vancouver...and he couldn't imagine what they were
doing here. All he knew it was going to be an overnight, because Jim had told
him to pack a bag. Beyond that, he was clueless.
Jim made a couple
more turns off the main road, then pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt
pocket. There were directions, and a name written on it, but Blair couldn't see
from his seat. His mouth dropped open though when Jim pulled the truck up in
front of an elegant-looking multi-storied building.
"What is this
place?"
"The Hotel
Vancouver."
Blair looked at Jim
suspiciously. "Mind telling me what we're doing here?"
"Not at
all--I'll explain while we find a parking space. Keep your eyes open." Jim
maneuvered the truck into the parking garage that was adjacent to the
hotel."
"Okay, I'm
looking. Talk."
"Well, there's
not much to explain. I just though we needed to get away for a few days."
"Yeah, but
Jim...you have work; I have school...I have a test I have to give on
Monday!"
"No you
don't."
"Excuse me?
Oh, over there--a spot."
"I talked Max
into taking over your class."
"Oh you did, huh?
I don't suppose it occurred to you I might want some say in this?"
"It occurred
to me...but I figured I'd risk taking the chance that you might want to take a
vacation with me, too."
Blair sat silently
as Jim parked the truck, then turned to look at Jim. "How long have you
been planning this?"
"Couple of
months." Jim snuck a look at Blair, to see his partner's face drawn in
contemplation. He stretched a hand out and slid it along Blair's thigh, then
squeezed gently. "You okay about this? If you're really upset we can head
back."
"No, I'm okay.
Just--surprised. Besides," Blair flashed an impish grin at Jim, "no
point in wasting all that time spent on the road."
Jim released a
mental sigh of relief. "I just thought we needed to get away for a while.
Not have the usual distractions."
"You're
probably right." Blair smiled at Jim, and slid a hand over to rest on Jim'
thigh. A month ago he wouldn't have been able to be comfortable doing that,
much less leaving it there. Now, he thrilled with the contact. Even without the
heightened senses of a sentinel, he could feel Jim's muscles tense under his
touch, and marveled that he could have such an affect on him. All he was doing
was *touching* a small part of his leg. A large warm hand clasped his, and
squeezed; and he looked up to see the clear blue-gray eyes regarding him.
"I love you,
Blair."
"I love you
too, Jim." There was a pause for a heartbeat, then Jim gave a final
squeeze, and pulled his hand away. He shut the motor off, and removed the keys.
Blair was already out of the truck, grabbing his bag. Jim checked to make sure
his gun was secure, then joined his partner.
"Ready
Chief?"
"Lead on,
McDuff."
*******************************
Blair hung out in
the lobby while Jim took care of the registration. This was a really
fascinating place to look around in--it was obviously quite old, and judging
from the pictures on the wall, was still decorated in much the same manner as
when it was new. Blair wandered from one wall to another, trying to see as much
as he could in the time allotted; until he found his attention drawn once more
to Jim. The man moved with an unconscious grace and sensuality--like a large
cat. He was strength tempered by softness, like velvet over steel. Jim turned
and motioned to him, and he abandoned his thoughts, heading over toward his
partner.
The room came with
a small, stocked kitchenette, and a fireplace. They were on the fifth floor,
and had a nice view from the balcony, even if it was too cold to go out and
enjoy it. Both men had stripped off their heavy clothes, and were lounging in
front of the fireplace in jeans and T-shirts, a beer in hand.
"This is
nice." Blair took a drink from his bottle, and gazed around the room. It
was a fairly large room, although the furniture made it seem smaller. Aside
from the tiny table and chair set in the kitchenette, there were the two
recliner chairs in front of the fireplace, a couple of dressers and there
was...one bed.
Blair felt a
prickle of excitement when he realized that there were no choices--unless he
chose the armchair he was currently relaxing in. He'd been sleeping in Jim's
bed for just over a month now--although sleeping was all he'd been doing in
Jim's bed; cuddling excepted. They still hadn't done more than kissing and holding;
with the occasional masturbation of self or each other. Although Blair was
comfortable with everything they'd been doing, it still took a lot of courage
for him to open up like that to Jim--which thankfully, Jim understood.
"Yeah, it is
nice." Blair started a bit when Jim spoke. He'd been so deep into his
thoughts there that he'd forgotten where he was, and what was going on around
him. "You okay, Chief?"
"Mmm. I was
just thinking, and guess I got lost in the thoughts. Man, you know I need a map
to get out of my head sometimes." He grinned at Jim. "So, what's the
plan?"
Jim leaned back in
his chair. "A nap."
"A *nap*? No
big discussions, physical activities, sightseeing... nothing?"
"No." Jim
closed his eyes.
"Man, you're
*way* on your way to disappointing me."
"Why, what'd
you have in mind, Chief?"
"I dunno. I
didn't figure I'd have to have anything in mind--you usually have things
planned for us."
Jim opened his eyes
and regarded Blair. "Are you saying I'm controlling?"
Blair fought the
urge to laugh. "If the shoe fits, man." He paused. "No,
controlling isn't quite it...think 'anal', Jim."
"You know,
Sandburg...you're in a very vulnerable position--if I wanted to take a pillow,
and..." Before Blair could blink Jim had jumped from his chair, grabbed
the pillow he'd stuck behind his head, and whacked Blair over the head with it.
"Hey! What's
up with that?"
"Pillow fights
are physical activity, Chief. Get with the game."
Blair shook his
head. "No way, man. One of us'll end up getting hurt, and I know it'll be
me."
"It's a
*pillow*, Chief."
"Yeah, I know.
I'll still get hurt--fall on something; fall *into* something...man, you know
how it goes. I attract trouble."
Jim stood there for
a minute, realizing that his roommate was right. He did attract trouble.
"Okay. Well, naptime then."
Jim made his way
over to the bed and lay down. "See you in a while, Chief."
"Right."
Jim turned off the
light beside the bed, and the room darkened. Blair sat for a while gazing into
the fire, wondering if he had the courage to do what he wanted so badly to do.
He'd wanted for some time to make love to Jim--and wasn't sure anymore what was
stopping him. Maybe it was just being so comfortable finally with the way
things were right then that he hesitated to take that last step. Which was
really weird thinking, but seemed to make sense. It had taken him so long to
achieve the level of comfort that he had, that deep down inside he balked at
the thought of changing it--even if that change would be even better than what
the present was. A soft snort behind him made him turn around, and his heart
contracted painfully. Jim had stretched out on the bed, and was sleeping; one
arm flung across his face, the other stretched out beside him. Blair sat there,
staring at him for several minutes, feeling the pull within him. At last he
climbed to his feet; drained his beer bottle, and headed for the bed. Moving
carefully so not to disturb Jim he climbed onto the bed, and settled himself
around him. In his sleep Jim instinctively pulled Blair closer to him, and
Blair sighed in contentment and fell asleep himself.
He woke sometime
later when a log in the fireplace dropped, sending up a shower of sparks. The
temp in the room had dropped somewhat, although he couldn't have said why. The heat
was still on... Blair got out of bed and went to look out the balcony windows.
It was snowing. A lot. Shaking his head in contemplation of how long they'd
actually be in Vancouver, he returned to the bed to find Jim awake and looking
at him.
"What?"
"Nothing.
C'mere." Jim opened his arms up, and Blair willingly went, snuggling down
into the embrace. Jim was so warm...it like hugging a coal. Or a flame.
"You're cold, Chief."
"No, you
think? It's getting chilly in here."
"Want me to
build the fire back up?"
"I can do
it..."
"Nah. You get
under the covers. Is it snowing out there?"
"Like you
wouldn't believe. Jim, I--What?" He broke off at Jim's chuckle. "Is
there more going on here than meets the eye?"
"Maybe."
"Jim, I can't
get snowed in here--I have a test I have to give Monday."
"No--I already
told you, that's taken care of."
"Still. We
could *try* to get back in time..."
"I talked to
Max--he's going to give the test for you. We're not going back until Tuesday
morning--unless we get snowed in longer than that. Simon knows we're out of
town, and that we'll be back then, pending weather conditions. I took vacation
time for this, Chief."
"When did you
talk to Max?"
"A couple of
days ago. I told him if he breathed a word of this to you I'd drop him off the
pier into the Pacific."
"Must have
been an effective threat--he never said a word."
"Pacific's
cold this time of year." Jim finished poking the fire, added a couple of
logs, then headed back for the bed. He paused to shuck off his jeans and shirt,
then climbed in clad only in his boxers. He caught Blair's eye then, and
grinned. "What?"
Blair rolled his
eyes. "What'd you have in mind, Jim?"
"Nothing,
Chief. Just getting comfortable. It's hard to relax in jeans."
"Huh?"
"Laying in bed
in denim is not comfortable for me. So I'm not going to."
Blair snorted.
"Right. Should I undress?"
Silence for a
heartbeat. "Do you want to?" Jim's voice had a husky quality to it
that hadn't been there a minute ago, and Blair felt his pulse speed up.
"I
don't--know."
"Do whatever
feels right, Chief. The rules haven't changed. You're still in charge
here."
Blair stared at him
for a long moment, then unfastened his jeans and wiggled out of them. He sat up
and pulled the shirt over his head, then dropped it on the floor. He sat there
staring at Jim, feeling the weirdest sensations in his stomach. It felt like
something was wiggling around--butterflies would have been tame, in comparison.
His heart felt like it would thunder out of his chest at any given moment. Jim
reached up and rubbed his thumb across Blair's lips, and he opened his mouth to
catch it between his teeth, nipping gently.
Jim growled low in
his throat. "You're going to play like that, hmm?"
Blair pushed his
hair out of his eyes. "Maybe. Maybe not." He gazed down at Jim, eyes
dark and serious. "Jim...man, I don't know. I want to do this, so bad...I
just don't know if I can."
Jim sighed and
pushed himself into a sitting position against the pillows. He pulled Blair into
his arms, holding him tightly against him; then lowered his head so his cheek
rested on Blair's head. "Baby, it's up to you. I'm not pushing. I can stop
touching you right now, if you want me to. We don't do anything--and I mean
*anything*, Blair--that you don't want to do."
"That's the
problem. I want to--my heart, anyway. My head's just not so sure."
"Well, maybe
we just need to fix it so that your heart is talking louder than your
head." Blair could feel Jim's smile against his hair, and felt himself
smile in return.
"Good
luck--been trying to do that for years, myself." He untangled himself from
Jim's arms and drew back slightly. "You might have a better chance
though..."
"What are you
saying, Chief?"
"You'll stop
any time it gets uncomfortable?"
"Any time. You
just say the word."
"Okay."
Blair stared at Jim, and licked his lips nervously.
He'd just given
tacit permission to--what? "Umm...what are we going to do?"
Jim cocked an
eyebrow at him. "What do you want to do?"
Blair rolled his
eyes, and threw himself backward into a reclining position. "Man, you're
too much. You know that? Which one of us is doing the seducing here?"
"Well...I'd
kind of thought we both were." Jim's voice had dropped an octave, and
reached a finger out to trace the outline of Blair's lips, rubbing back and
forth over the full lower lip. "I seduce you; you seduce me." The
combination of touch and sound was hypnotic, and Blair found himself drowning
in sensation. He parted his mouth slightly to speak, and found his lips covered
by Jim's. With a groan of want and need he gave himself over to the emotions
swirling within him, and opened himself to his lover.
Blair reached his
arms up and wrapped them around Jim's neck, pulling him down toward him. He
clung on to Jim for dear life as the bigger man plundered his mouth; forced his
lips open. Instead of thrusting his tongue in deep though, Jim seemed content
to thrust shallowly, teasing Blair's tongue, inviting him in to play. Blair
opened his mouth further, and began exploring Jim's mouth; allowed him access
to his.
They remained
locked together, exchanging hot, open kisses, until Jim thought that the wet
sounds of their tongues mating together would cause him to come right then. He
pulled away with a groan, and ran his hands up and down Blair's arms.
"Okay, Chief?"
Blair stared at him
with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Oh, yeah." He pulled Jim back to
him, and this time he took the initiative, teasing Jim's tongue into his mouth,
sucking on it.
One of Jim's hands
was snaking down his back, exploring the warm skin there. Blair lay back on the
bed and pulled Jim onto him, both men groaning as warm skin met warm skin. Jim
focused on the sensations of Blair's chest hair rubbing on his chest; it was
soft...crisp...and it tickled, just a little bit. Blair had let go of his
mouth, and was licking down his throat, and his tongue felt like wet velvet...
"Blair..."
Jim groaned. He felt the sensation stop, and drew back slightly, gasping for
air. "Let me..." He slid down Blair a little bit and began to kiss
his way downward, spreading little nipping kisses all along the hot skin
exposed when Blair threw his head back. He licked down the column of Blair's
throat, stopping to suck gently on the Adam's apple bobbing there, eliciting a
groan from Blair. He moved further down, gently licking, sucking, and biting,
until he reached Blair's nipples. He sucked one into his mouth, swirling his
tongue around it, and felt his cock surge and twitch as Blair gasped.
He smiled against
Blair's chest; then licked one hard, puckered bud, then blew air across it. The
little nub tightened even further, and Blair groaned under him. He brought his
other hand up and began teasing at the other nipple; pulling on it gently, and
pinching slightly. He could feel Blair's hips beginning to move under him;
jerking without control. Jim slid the rest of the way down his lover, and
pulled his shorts off. He licked and kissed his way up from Blair's knees to
his navel, then began again, going downward. Blair arched his back, trying to
get Jim to lick where he most needed that attention; he was so close that his
hips were moving continuously under Jim's caresses. Jim smiled, and licked his
way up the shaft of Blair's cock, and took the head into his mouth. Blair
gasped and half came off the bed, relaxing back down as he abandoned himself to
the sensation.
Jim's mouth was
warm...wet...and oh, God he was going to..."Jim! I'm gonna...I
can't...--" He was having trouble making his mouth work with his brain--he
could feel the heat building up through his body, and his hips jerked
convulsively.
Jim held on to him,
and deep-throated him as far as could take him. Blair screamed and came,
thrusting deep into Jim's mouth; releasing pent up frustration along with the
pleasure. Jim held him in his mouth; sucking on him until Blair was done. He
tasted the salty, slightly bitter fluid on his tongue, and felt himself get
even harder from the erotic taste. Then he moved back up and kissed Blair
gently. Blair tasted himself on Jim, and marveled at how wonderful it had been.
He sent a questing hand down Jim's body and felt the other man shudder with
need. "We need to do something about you, Jim." He grasped Jim's cock
through his boxers, and began stroking up and down. Jim gasped as the sensations
assailed his senses, and he clamped down on himself with iron control. He
didn't want to come just yet.
"Only if
you're sure, Chief," he said hoarsely. He groaned then as Blair moved his
body full against Jim, and began undulating against him.
"I'm
sure," he breathed into his ear. He was, too. To stop at this point would
have been more painful than going on could possibly be. His body was afire from
the sensations that Jim's hands, tongue and lips had produced in him. The feel
of Jim's cock pressed hard against his belly was exciting him too, and he
wanted to feel more of it. Jim gave another groan as he felt Blair pushing his
shorts off his hips, and turned his head; mouth instinctively seeking Blair's.
Their lips melded together, tongues tangling deliciously. Jim wondered briefly
at what point would they catch fire or melt from the heat they were generating;
but then Blair's fingers began doing wonderful things to his cock and balls,
and he couldn't think anymore.
He shuddered when
he felt Blair's hot breath on him...followed by the touch of just the tip of
Blair's tongue, licking slowly around the head of his cock. He arched upward,
seeking the wet heat he knew was there, but Blair pulled away from him. Jim
groaned and opened his eyes, watched Blair watching him. "What?" he
managed to gasp.
"Nothing...just
wondered if you were ready."
"God,
Chief...I want you...want it, so bad...Please..." Jim knew he'd stop if
Blair said he couldn't go on, but it would probably kill him. He almost sobbed
in relief when he felt Blair's mouth close over him; tongue swirling and teeth
scraping gently down the underside as that warm cavern created a vacuum of
suction. He began thrusting into Blair's mouth, unable to stop himself. It was
so wonderful...he wanted it to go on and on and--he jerked suddenly as he felt
a finger probing against his anus, fingertip trailing up and down the valley
between his ass.
Jim stretched his
arms out, gathering handfuls of the sheets into his clenched fists, holding on
for support. He could feel Blair working to relax the muscles in his throat;
without any warning he opened up wide and deep-throated him. Jim jerked and
screamed, and with a hard thrust that nearly gagged Blair, came in long hot
spurts into the other man's mouth. He could feel Blair's throat working to
swallow his essence, and the gentle massaging of the muscles against his now
sensitive organ sent shivers racing down his spine.
Blair sat back, and
wiped at his mouth. "Did that feel as good as it sounded?"
"Better,"
Jim replied weakly. "And if it'd felt any better than that, I'd be
dead."
Blair laughed
gently, and lay down in the circle of Jim's arms.
"You okay,
Chief?"
"Yeah. Just
kind of--assimilating it all, you know? That was pretty intense."
"Yes it was.
Are you sorry?"
"About
what?"
Jim rolled onto his
side, keeping Blair within his embrace. "Any of it. All of it. I don't
know."
"No, Jim. I'm
not sorry we did any of it. If I'm sorry about anything, it's that we didn't
make love."
"We did make
love, Chief."
"Not
completely."
"I guess you're
going to have to redefine 'making love' for me then; I was under the impression
that any sex act between two people who love each other was making love."
"You know what
I mean." Blair looked away.
"You mean
penetration."
"Yeah."
"We'll do that
too, Chief. When you're ready. In the meantime," Jim gently turned Blair's
face back toward him. "In the meantime, anything we do together I consider
making love. I don't care if we just lay here kissing--I love you, and we're
making love between us."
"Oh, Jim..."
Blair couldn't breathe suddenly for the emotion constricting his chest. "I
don't deserve you."
"No. You
probably deserve better. But I'm afraid you're stuck with me now. I don't plan
on letting you go." Jim tried to smile, to ease the moment a bit, but it
wasn't working. Blair continued to stare into his eyes, until he felt like he
would drown in those smokey blue eyes; felt he was being pulled inward, into
Blair's soul.
"That's
fine," Blair finally said, in a soft voice. "I couldn't let you go if
I had to." He tugged Jim's head down to his, and pressed his lips against
the other man's. Jim returned the brief kiss, then rolled over onto his back,
taking Blair with him.
"Go to sleep,
Babe. We've got plenty of time."
*******************************
What was that
noise? Jim came awake suddenly, brain in full cop-mode, reaching for the gun
he'd placed under the pillow. He settled back as he realized it was nothing
more than wind noise against the eaves. It was full dark in the room, with
nothing left of the fire but some glowing embers. How long had they been
asleep? Blair mumbled something in his sleep, and shifted, rolling away from
Jim. Realizing that his bladder was going to explode if he didn't get up right
away, Jim groped around for his shorts, which had been tossed wildly during
their activities--what, yesterday? Last night? He shook his head, giving up on
the shorts, and headed for the bathroom. A silvery thread of moonlight streamed
in through the curtains on the balcony doors, and Jim raised his arm toward it
to look at his watch. It was 3:30am. Jesus, they'd been sleeping for almost
twelve hours. No wonder he was hungry...
He finished and
flushed the toilet, then went back to look for his shorts. First priority then
was build the fire back up. After that, coffee and a snack. Hopefully Blair
would sleep a while longer--he needed the rest. Although his sleep wasn't
disturbed by nightmares any longer, the long months had taken a toll on him,
and he still had circles under his eyes. They weren't as pronounced any more;
in fact they had faded for the most part, only reappearing when Blair tried to
over-do.
Everything about
Blair was blossoming. He'd gained enough weight back that his clothes didn't
hang on him anymore; his hair--that beautiful, scruffy mane--had grown back
entirely from what he'd cut off, and he'd added some length to it. His eyes
didn't look haunted any longer.
Jim decided against
the coffee when Blair snorted sleepily after he nearly dropped the can opener.
He could have a beer at 3:30am if he wanted--he was on vacation. And judging by
the snow he could see out the window, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. They
were going to be here for a while. He popped the cap off, and settled into one
of the chairs in front of the now-roaring fire. This was a good idea. He
drained the beer in several long gulps, then sat back to watch the flames
dance.
*******************************
The smell of coffee
and eggs woke him with a start. He could hear Blair mumbling under his breath
about the toaster, and he glanced down at his watch. 8:00am. He'd fallen back
asleep then.
Jim stretched in
the chair, enjoying the sensation of joints popping, and stood up.
"Morning, Chief."
Blair looked up at
him. "Morning, yourself. When did you get up the first time?"
Jim grimaced
slightly as the muscles in his back spasmed. That's what he got for sleeping in
an arm chair. "Around 3:30, I guess. Sleep well?"
"You mean all
17 hours of it? Yeah, I did. Guess I was more tired than I thought." Blair
poked around in a drawer and came up with silverware. "Breakfast's ready,
if you're hungry."
"Starved."
He walked over to the table, and taking Blair's wrist in his hand, pulled him
gently to him. "I could eat, too."
He lowered his mouth
to Blair's, and felt Blair's open under his, tongue questing. They exchanged a
long kiss, heat building in it, until Jim was afraid his knees wouldn't support
him any longer. He pulled back. "Whew...you should come with a warning
label, Sandburg. No one should kiss like that at eight in the morning."
Blair turned a
slight pink in color, and Jim grinned. That Blair could blush after what he'd
done to him yesterday! "Sit down and eat, Jim."
"Yes,
sir."
"Knock it off,
*Detective*."
"Ummm--want to
play like that, huh?"
"I'm outta
names after that one." Blair sat down next to Jim and took the plate of
eggs from him. "Thanks. We're gonna have to come up with a name for you,
man."
Jim raised his
eyebrows. "What's wrong with the one I have?"
"Nothing, but
you know. You call me 'Chief' and all that; I'd like something else to call
you."
"A
nickname."
"Term of
endearment."
"Same
thing."
"Not
necessarily."
"Eat your
eggs, Sandburg." Jim smirked at Blair. A nickname? For him? Yeah, right.
"You just
wait, Jim. I'll think of something." Blair raised his own eyebrow, then
turned back to his food. "So what's the plan for today?"
"Looked out
the window lately Chief?"
"No--not
recently."
"There's about
four feet of snow out there. I don't think it's stopped snowing since yesterday
afternoon."
"Guess
sightseeing's out of the question, huh?"
Jim smirked.
"I'd say so."
"Well, I guess
I can always go back to bed; catch up on my missing sleep."
Jim choked on his
coffee. "Unless you have other plans for the bed?" Blair flushed slightly,
and Jim silently cursed himself. "I'm sorry Chief--that was...I shouldn't
have said it like that."
"S'okay, Jim.
I'm not going to break, you know. You can stop handling me with gloves
on."
"As long as I
don't have to stop handling you."
"No."
Softly.
"Blair. Are
you sure you're okay?"
"Fine.
Just--getting used to stuff again. It's been awhile, man."
"I know. I'm
sorry, Chief."
"Stop
apologizing, Jim. Geez, I'm okay, all right? I really am."
"Okay, okay.
You want me to do the dishes?"
"Yeah, that'd be
good. I'll cook, you clean. You're more anal about that anyway."
Jim smiled against
his coffee cup and stood up to clear off the dishes.
*******************************
They spent most of
the rest of the morning sitting in front of the fire, talking. Well, Blair
talked and Jim listened. Although he'd have died before saying so, the myriad
things that his partner was knowledgeable in fascinated him. Oh, yeah, it got
on his nerves sometimes; Sandburg would pull these ideas, thoughts, whatever
off the top of his head, and go on for hours about them; but for the most part
it was interesting. Blair had done extensive field work over the last five or
six years, and it showed. He was wrapping up a dissertation on the marriage
rites and rituals of a little-known African tribe when there was a loud popping
noise and the lights went out.
"Shit--that's
not good." Jim looked at Blair. "I don't know if the fireplace can
heat this place adequately."
Blair nodded.
"Try the phone--see if the front desk has any suggestions, or procedures.
Jim picked the
receiver up. "No dial tone." He shook his head. "Guess we'll
just stay put then. If the phones and lights are out, the elevators will be,
too." He grinned at Blair then. "Do we have enough beer and
snacks?"
Two hours and the
room was considerably cooler. Blair's teeth had begun chattering slightly,
despite his efforts to keep warm by staying as close to the fire as possible.
Jim frowned, watching him huddle in front of the fireplace.
"Let's bring
the mattress over in front of the fire--we can both crawl under the covers and
share body heat. We'll stay warmer that way."
They shoved the
chairs around and moved the mattress from the bed to the floor in front of the
fire. Jim added the extra blankets he found in the armoire, and ordered Blair
under them.
After making sure
that the door locks were secure, Jim stripped down and crawled in with Blair.
"C'mere, Chief."
"I j-just
c-can't g-g-get warm..."
"I'm gonna
help with that. Come here." He turned Blair onto his side, and spooned his
body up around him, pulling the smaller man as tight to him as he could. Then
Jim reached around and clasped Blair's hands in his. Blair sighed in relief as
blessed heat began moving through his chilled body. They lay like that for a
long time before Blair's shivers stopped, then started again for entirely
different reasons.
Jim felt Blair
pushing himself back against him, and his body began tightening in response.
No, dammit! This wasn't the time... Blair wiggled against him.
"Hold still,
Sandburg," he hissed in his ear. "What are you trying to do?"
"You're the
detective, man. You tell me." Blair brought one of Jim's hands up to his
mouth, and sucked the tip of his index finger in. He continued to suck on the
tip, swirling it around in his mouth, then drawing the whole finger in,
nibbling along it.
Shit.
"Chief--"
"Shut up,
Jim."
Jim tried one last
time. "I don't know if--"
Blair let go of his
finger and turned over in his arms.
"Jim--be
quiet. I'm sure we can find better things for your mouth to be doing."
With that he pulled Jim's face to his, and opened his mouth to him. Jim gave up
with a groan and pulled Blair tightly against him, his mouth opening for
Blair's tongue.
They rubbed against
each other, tongues mimicking the actions of their bodies, until the need for
oxygen forced them apart, gasping.
"You've got
too many clothes on, Jim," Blair panted, moving to his knees; hands
skimming down Jim's sides, looking for the hem of his shirt. He raised Jim up
and pulled the shirt off the other man, and tossed it over the chair behind
them.
"So do you,
Chief." His shirt went the way of Jim's. They knelt there, staring at each
other with hot eyes, until Blair reached a hand out to touch one of Jim's
nipples. He brushed his fingertips across it, then back again--and it was like
a jolt of electricity ripping through Jim. He groaned and pulled Blair back
against him; ground his pelvis into Blair's. Blair moaned and pushed back.
"God,
Jim...it's..."
"Your call,
Chief," Jim rasped out. "You're in charge." *Please don't say
stop...please...* "What do you want?"
"You."
The single word, low-pitched and hoarse, nearly undid Jim right then. He
growled and lowered his mouth to Blair's neck, biting him there--gently enough
not to break the skin; but roughly enough to let Blair know he was laying
claim. Blair turned his head to the side, exposing more of the tender skin for
Jim's perusal; gasping when he felt teeth digging in again. "Oh, yeah,
man..."
"Like that,
huh?" Jim moved his teeth to Blair's ear, nipping at the lobe before
taking it into his mouth to suckle.
"Oh,
yeah...Don't stop. Just don't stop..." Blair nearly sobbed when Jim pulled
away from him.
"Just taking
my pants off, Chief. I'll be right back." Jim began drawing his long johns
off, and Blair scrambled to remove his own.
The momentary lull
was enough for both of them to regain a measure of control. Blair took a deep
breath, and looked at Jim. "Did you bring...anything?"
It took Jim a
second to figure out what he was talking about, then he nodded. "I have
them in my bag."
"Get 'em
then."
Jim nodded, and got
off the mattress. He rummaged around in his bag until he located the box of
condoms and tube of KY Jelly he'd brought, just in case. He handed both items
to Blair, who set them on the warm side of the mattress; then knelt back down
next to Blair. "Still want to do this?"
Blair looked up at
him with eyes so hot Jim nearly caught fire then. "Yes."
"Oh, Baby...I
love you, Blair."
"I love you,
Jim. Kiss me?"
"With
pleasure."
Jim cupped Blair's
face in his hands, and began to brush soft kisses across his mouth, barely
touching those warm lips. He nibbled on the full lower lip, and ran his tongue
across them, slipping it in and out slightly, but never fully penetrating. He
pulled back then, and pushed Blair gently down onto the mattress. Blair tensed
slightly, and Jim brushed a gentle kiss onto his forehead. "Relax, Baby. I
only want to love you. Will you let me? I'll stop if you need me to."
"Oh, Jim...I
want you so bad...Please, help me with this..."
Blair closed his
eyes, and threw his head back, offering himself to Jim.
Jim closed his own
eyes for a minute, and took a deep breath. Then he reached out and began
stroking along Blair's body, long massaging strokes, trailing his fingers occasionally;
touching every inch of skin. Blair wiggled under his hands, and he stopped the
tickling motions. He straddled Blair's hips on his knees, and began the motions
over, this time with his tongue.
Blair moaned low in
his throat as Jim licked up and down his chest; paying special attention to his
nipples, then continuing down toward his navel. Jim tasted each inch of Blair's
skin until he was satisfied he could find his way around him in the dark, then
moved on. The hair on Blair's chest had a silky, yet rough texture under his
tongue, and it got sparser the lower he went; until he reached Blair's pubic
hair, where there was more, and it was crisper in texture than the other had
been. He licked his way down Blair's erection, taking care not to suck on it
like he so desperately wanted to do. His intention was to slowly push Blair to
the brink; but not over the edge. Not yet. He felt his own erection pulse at
the thought, and tried to put it out of his mind. He concentrated instead on
the pounding pulse he could sense in the veins running through Blair's cock--he
could almost see the blood pounding there.
Blair moaned and
pushed up against Jim, but he gently pressed his hips back down again. They
were going to go slow...so slow, so hot, until Blair would be so hot for him he
wouldn't want anything else. He licked down the shaft again, and took each of
Blair's balls into his mouth, one at a time, then licked underneath them. The
delicate skin of the perineum was exposed when Blair arched his back and spread
his legs wider. Jim let go of Blair's testes and moved toward the crease in
Blair's legs, where hip and thigh joined. He felt Blair quivering under him as
he licked along that crease, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sweat, heat,
and Blair; all mixed together.
He nibbled across
Blair's waist to the other leg, then licked his way back down; following the
crease to where it turned into the curve of Blair's cheeks. He stopped then for
a minute, wondering if he should go on like this. Blair was laying with his
head thrown back, hands grasping at the sheets. Jim could hear him mumbling,
"pleasepleasepleaseplease" over and over, and decided this was
working just fine. He scooted lower, and ran his tongue very lightly down the
valley between Blair's cheeks. Blair moaned and jerked toward him, and Jim
pressed him down again. He spread Blair's legs open further, and lay between
them, gently caressing the skin with his hands as he opened Blair up to his
inspection. Lowering his head he breathed in the musky scent that was a part of
Blair, and extended his tongue, running it lightly up and down the crease.
Blair sobbed above him, trying to jerk his hips. Jim licked up and down Blair's
cheeks, but never quite went where Blair wanted him to. He ran his tongue over
the soft skin of Blair's ass, then back up to his thighs, feeling the younger
man's body quivering under him, begging for release. He wet one finger in his
mouth, and gently pressed it to the puckered little opening, while he began
working his way back up to Blair's straining cock. Blair gasped and tensed up
as he felt Jim's finger moving into him; and for a minute Jim wondered if
they'd be able to continue. His own cock throbbed painfully at the thought of
having to stop now; but he knew he would, if Blair asked him.
Blair didn't say
anything though--he was past the ability to speak. He relaxed his body, and
allowed Jim's finger entry; then pushed slightly back against it. His whole
body felt like it was on fire, and he needed Jim to help him put it out. He groped
along the side of the mattress for the lubricant, and handed it blindly to Jim.
"More," he managed to gasp.
"Are you
sure?" Last chance.
"Absolutely."
"Okay. Turn
over then." Jim withdrew his finger, and helped Blair onto his stomach.
Blair drew his knees up under him slightly, and Jim couldn't resist leaning
down and giving one caressing lick to the puckered little opening exposed there
to him. He felt Blair shudder under him, and reached quickly for a condom. He
rolled it onto his cock with shaking hands, then moved up against Blair,
crouching slightly beside and behind him.
He ran his hands up
and down Blair's back, going closer and closer each time to his ass. He could
feel the younger man tense under his touch as he caressed him, and leaned down
to whisper, "It's me, Baby. I'm not going to hurt you--I just want to make
love to you."
He heard Blair sob
in the back of his throat, and saw him visibly relax. Jim lubed up his finger
again, and began running it up and down the crease of Blair's cheeks. "Oh,
God, Jim..."
Blair was panting
now--or hyperventilating; Jim was having trouble focusing on anything but the
feel of Blair's body under his hands. He gently pressed his finger against the
pucker of Blair's anus, and pushed. Blair relaxed his body, and Jim's finger
gained entry. He held it there for a moment, feeling Blair's muscles clenching
and relaxing around him; then began to slowly move it back and forth. Blair's
gasps and whimpers reached his ears as he pushed a second finger in; then a
third.
He worked the
fingers in and out until Blair was pushing back against him, then removed the
fingers. Blair sobbed with the sensation of loss; that quickly turned to gasps
of pleasure as Jim placed his cock at Blair's entrance and began pushing into
him. He felt Jim pushing in, and gasped with the sensation of being filled. Jim
angled his penetration slightly, and began pushing gently against Blair's
prostate--the younger man jerked back against him slightly and gave a short
scream of pleasure.
When he was all the
way in, with his pelvis meeting Blair's ass; Jim paused to grab on to the
shreds of his control. Blair was so hot...so tight; he could feel his cock
throbbing deep inside. He slid his sweat-slicked hands up along Blair's arms,
until he reached his hands, then Jim entwined their fingers together, squeezing
tightly. "Ready, Chief?" he whispered in Blair's ear.
"Oh, yeah,
man. Do it! Please..." Blair pushed back against Jim, and tightened his
sphincter muscle. He felt Jim's cock pulse within him, and then began to move
as Jim began thrusting in and out. Jim leaned down and gently bit Blair's neck
as he made love to him; Blair gasped and squeezed even tighter on Jim's
fingers. Jim let go with one hand and brought it around to stroke at Blair's
hard cock; he began to pump him in time with his own thrusts, and felt Blair's
orgasm build even as his did. They came together, Blair spilling his essence
against Jim's hand as Jim came deep inside him; an explosive climax that
enveloped both of them in a cloud of lust, fueled by their love for each other,
and the specialness of that first time.
Jim felt his arms
giving under him, and pushed himself to his side. *Don't fall on Blair, you'll
squash him,* His brain warned him. Blair rolled to his side with him, until
they were spooned up to each other, Jim still inside Blair; still joined as
one. He felt Blair shuddering in his arms, and gently ran his hands up and down
Blair's arms, seeking to caress, to comfort.
"Shh, baby.
It's all right." *Oh, God...had they pushed too soon?*
Blair laughed,
sounding like a cross between a hiccough and a sob. "I know...it was...you
were...Oh, God, Jim...it was beautiful. Thank you..."
Jim pressed a kiss
against Blair's neck. "I should be thanking you, Chief--not the other way around.
What you just gave me was--" He broke off, not knowing words adequate to
express what he was feeling. It was too intense. He shivered and pressed his
face into Blair's neck. "I love you," He whispered finally, hoping it
was enough.
"I love you,
too," Blair whispered back. Jim pulled out then, feeling a pang with the
loss of contact, and tossed the condom into the fire. He spooned back up
against Blair, and they fell asleep, holding onto each other.
********************************
Jim woke when he
heard a hissing popping noise. The light in the bathroom came on, and he
realized the electricity must be back on. Blair stirred slightly in his arms,
and he ran a hand down his side. "Hey, Chief...want to wake up?"
"Mmm...no, not
really." Blair stretched himself, and Jim took the opportunity to admire
the view of the lithe body next to his.
"Electricity
just came back on. We should have heat pretty soon."
Blair turned in his
arms. "I thought we did pretty good making heat on our own." He gave
Jim a seductive grin, and felt Jim's body move into his. "Thought so.
You're insatiable, aren't you, lover?"
"Only for you,
baby." Jim kissed Blair, then moved back reluctantly. "I need to
check the thermostat. Hopefully we won't have to call the front desk or anything."
Blair sat up
slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "How long did we sleep?"
Jim shrugged.
"I have no idea. A couple of hours maybe? Why?"
"Just
wondered. I'm hungry, and trying to decide if I should make us lunch or
dinner?" As if to illustrate his point, Blair's stomach growled then.
"Whatever.
Just as long as it's food, and it's hot, I don't--Jesus! Oh God, Blair--I'm
sorry."
"Sorry? For
what?" Blair looked at the stricken face of his lover, and saw that he was
staring at his neck. "Jim? What's wrong? Hey!" He protested as Jim
grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the bathroom, pushing him toward the
mirror.
"*That's*
what's wrong! God, Chief...I didn't mean--"
"Jim, shut
up." Blair inspected his neck. "So, you gave me a few hickeys. What's
the big deal?"
"You look like
you were mauled by a big cat, or something."
"Who says I
wasn't? Just remember to sheathe your claws, Wildcat, and I'll be happy."
Blair turned away from the mirror, a grin on his face. "A few bite marks,
Jim. Not a big deal, man. Get over it. You didn't hurt me; I enjoyed it."
"You
did?"
"Did you hear
me complaining at the time? Or now, for that matter?"
"No..."
Actually, it dawned on Jim, Blair was acting a lot like the old Blair. He shook
his head. "Guess I'll just have to be careful I don't break the
skin."
"Attaboy, Jim.
Now...let's see about *food*, okay? Before I pass out from low blood sugar, or
something."
******************************
They made it home
on Wednesday. Even Cascade had received some snow from that storm; and it had
taken them eight and a half hours to make the three hour trip. Jim just shook
his head the entire time, and mumbled a lot of comments like "Thank God
for four-wheel drive."
Blair used the time
to think about what all had happened up there. He would have a lot of things to
discuss with Dr. Peli when he met for their weekly session on Friday; but he
was okay with everything that had happened. As far as he was concerned, it was
long over-due. His body ached slightly--in a good way--from the workout it had
been given. Sex, he reflected, was hard on a body that hadn't had any in almost
six months. He snuck a look at Jim; the man almost looked smug. *Well lover, I
feel that way too.* Blair sighed. Life was really looking up.
*******************************
They got home late,
and Jim called Simon to tell him they were back in town, but that he wouldn't
be in until Monday.
Blair listened in
on the conversation, grinning at the way Jim was lying bald-faced to his Captain.
"No,
Simon...No, I'm not coming in until Monday. I have the vacation time--well,
yeah, I know...No. I pulled a couple of muscles--lot of exertion, all that
snow...yeah...yeah...okay. Yeah, I'll see you Monday morning."
Blair was laughing
by the time Jim got off the phone. "What did the snow have to do with any
of our exertions?"
"Nothing--but
Simon doesn't need to know that, does he?"
"No...it's
probably better if he doesn't."
"Actually,
Chief--he knows some."
"About
us?"
"Yeah. I think
he knew before I did that I was in love with you. Simon's a pretty intuitive
man." Jim searched Blair's face. "You okay with that?"
"I'm fine with
it. Are *you* okay?"
"Why wouldn't
I be?"
"Mr.
Straight-as-an-Arrow? Can't imagine, myself."
Jim made a face at
Blair. "What can I say? Sometimes love comes in unexpected packages."
He pulled Blair to him, settling him between his legs. "And this is the
best package I've ever seen." He lowered his mouth onto Blair's, and
claimed him for his own.
Blair woke up the
next morning wondering when they'd gone to bed. He was sore in muscles he
didn't know he'd had. Thank God he didn't teach on Thursdays, and thank the
same God that Jim wasn't going into work. Where was Jim, anyway? He sniffed the
air and smelled coffee. As long as Jim didn't cook the breakfast... He'd just
gotten out of bed and was stretching, when Jim's voice called up to him.
"Hey,
Sandburg--you up yet?"
"Yeah, man.
Keep your shorts on--I'll be right there." He hopped out of bed to
discover that the aforementioned shorts were no where around. Blushing slightly
he padded downstairs, naked; stopped dead on the last step to see Jim walking
around the same way. "Er...Jim?"
"Hi,
Chief." Jim crossed the room in quick strides, and kissed him deeply. With
Blair on the step, their height was almost equal, and it was a heady experience
for Blair. He wrapped his arms around Jim and returned the kiss, thrusting his
tongue deep into the other man's mouth. Jim sucked on it, then began caressing
it with his own. Blair shuddered and felt himself growing hard--felt Jim
getting hard as well, as their bodies began rubbing together. "Oh, yeah,
baby..." Jim groaned as he pulled away. "You've got the most
incredible mouth..."
Blair laughed
hoarsely. "I could say the same for you."
"What do you
want, Chief?" Quiet, right in his ear.
"You. I want
you." He let his hands roam down Jim's back, and began caressing the
valley in between his cheeks. Jim shuddered in answer, and shifted slightly so
his legs were a little further apart, giving Blair better access. Blair sucked
on his finger for a minute, the began gently pushing that finger into Jim's
anus. Jim tensed for a minute, then relaxed and pushed against the finger. It
was an odd sensation, but not unpleasurable. Blair licked his way across Jim's
neck and breathed into his ear, "First time?"
"Yeah...for
this."
Blair smiled into
Jim's neck, and continued thrusting, adding a second finger. "Usually on
top, huh?"
"Uh...yeah...oh,
God..." Jim was hanging on to Blair's shoulders in earnest now, grinding
his pelvis against Blair's.
"Wanna be the
bottom?" He pulled the fingers out, and Jim groaned in frustration, hips
bucking against Blair.
"Oh God,
yes..." He leaned into Blair and captured his mouth in a fiery kiss, then
reached down and grabbed him around the waist and began moving toward Blair's
room.
"No...the
couch." Blair drew back. "We need stuff." He darted into his
room and returned with a condom and a small tube of lubricant. Jim raised his
eyebrows, but didn't say anything, just knelt on the couch, a questioning look
on his face.
"Face the
back...kind of lean against it." Blair tore the condom package with his
teeth, and reached for the lube. He stopped when he felt Jim's fingers on his.
"Let me."
Blair raised his eyes to meet Jim's, and saw that they were wide with passion;
irises dilated and dark. He felt a rush of pleasure knowing that he'd brought
him to this state--now to finish it off...
He moaned low in
his throat as Jim rolled the condom down on him, and began stroking his cock,
spreading the lube on him. "Stop," He groaned, as Jim's fingers
caressed the head. "I want to come inside you; not here." He took the
tube and squeezed a small amount out. "Turn around, and spread your legs a
bit. Lean against the couch."
Jim did as Blair
instructed, then felt the cool touch of lube being spread around and worked
into his anus. He felt Blair move up behind him--he was so sensitized to him
now that he'd have sworn he could feel his shadow--and a pressure against his
anus. Jim willed himself to relax, and felt the pressure increase. Then Blair
was inside, filling him; stretching him. He moaned as he felt the pressure
increase to barely tolerable levels, then fall off abruptly as Blair's hand
suddenly grasped his hard cock. All senses were suddenly contained within a few
square inches of his body--the feel of Blair in him; holding on to him. He
could smell the other man's arousal, and it excited him further.
He pushed against
Blair's hand impatiently, and felt the other man pulse within him in answer.
Then Blair began moving, slowly...giving him time to adjust to him. Jim felt
the excitement building in him, and began thrusting his hips in counter-rhythm,
trying to pull Blair deeper within in.
Blair felt himself
moving closer to the edge...it'd been a while since he'd been on the giving end
this way; and it was as wonderful as he remembered. He leaned over Jim's body,
holding on to a hip with one hand, stroking Jim's beautiful, hard cock with the
other. Jim shuddered, and shivered, feeling tendrils of heat and ice beginning
to curl outward from his groin. He pushed harder back against Blair, felt the
answering thrust, and the stroke along his cock. He clenched his muscles around
Blair, and tensed his own body, feeling his orgasm overtake him. He shouted,
spraying all over Blair's hand and his own stomach; and felt Blair explode
within him, as his muscles forced the climax.
Blair fell against
him, and they collapsed together on the couch, breathing heavily for several
minutes before being able to think or speak again. Jim nipped at Blair's neck,
then nuzzled the stinging spot. "You've done that before," he said,
reaching to stroke Blair's face.
"Yes."
"A lot?"
"No--just a
few times. It was more of a mutual, 'let's see how these things work' with a
friend when I was a teenager--then once or twice since."
"Mmm."
"You've never
done that before."
"No. I told
you that."
"You did. Man,
you're incredible..." This time, Blair stroked his fingers through Jim's
short hair; reveled in the paradox of bristles and softness. "I love you,
Jim. I love you so much it hurts."
"I love you
too, Blair. I'll always love you."
They cuddled
together for a while, just enjoying each other's presence, and the fact that
they were able to do so now.
*******************************
"Well,
Chief?" Jim sat in the lobby of the medical center, in the same seat he'd
sat in twice a week, every week, for over a year now. *Convenient*, he mused,
*that the building houses medical and counseling services. Saves us extra
trips.* Blair sat down in the chair next to him, a huge grin on his face.
"We're clean.
The tests came back negative."
"Thank
God."
"We still need
to come back every six months for a while."
"I know."
"I hate thinking
I'm putting you at risk."
"Chief, the
odds are--"
"I know, slim.
Still."
"Blair, the
chances that Caldwell was HIV-positive are--"
"No better or
worse than the chances that he wasn't. I'm still going to worry about it for a
long time to come."
"I wish you'd
let me finish a sentence, once in a while." Jim grinned down at the
younger man. "What about Dr. Peli?"
"He says I'm
done whenever I'm ready to be done. There really isn't anything left to
resolve. I told him I wasn't going to schedule anymore appointments, unless
something came up."
"You feel all
right about that?"
"I wouldn't do
it if I didn't."
"Good. Ready
to go then?"
"Oh yeah. I've
got some things I need to finish up at home, then I need to get over to the
University."
"Okay then. I
can get you the home part. I've got some paperwork to do too. You're on your
own for school."
"Deal."
They stepped out into the sunny cold day.
*******************************
Last journal entry for me,
hopefully forever. Our HIV tests came back today--negative. I hope like hell
they continue to do so. It wouldn't change how I feel about him if he did test
positive; but I don't think I could stand to have to watch him slowly die,
right in front of my eyes. What we went through after Caldwell was as close to
death as I care to come, for a long, long time.
We're settling into a new
routine now; getting some of our old lives back. It's been just over a year now
since Blair was raped, and so much has changed since then. We've 'gone public'
with our relationship; inasmuch as we feel is necessary. Simon, Naomi, and a
few others know we're more than just friends or partners; anyone else who
wonders can keep wondering.
I wake up every morning
thinking how lucky I am to have Blair by my side--as friend, guide, partner,
lover. I couldn't ask for more. I used to take him for granted; that will never
happen again. He means too much to me, and having come so close to losing him
once, I won't risk it again. I wish I knew how to show him how much he means to
me... Maybe I'll ask him to marry me. I wonder what he'd say?
*******************************
Last journal entry. I
think I'll burn them when I'm done. It was good therapy, but I don't care to
keep them around to re-read when I'm bored.
Both of our HIV tests were
negative. Thank whatever God is watching over us. I hope it keeps on being that
way--I can't stand the thought of hurting Jim anymore than he's been hurt. That
goes both ways--I don't want AIDS, and I don't want to infect him. That would
hurt far worse than getting it myself.
I'm done with counseling.
I'm done with the whole mess. I've put it behind me now, and I'm ready to get
on with life. It was on hold for far too long as it was. I've requested an
extension for my dissertation, and I think they're going to approve it. I hope
so.
Jim and I went public.
Well, as much as Jim's public about anything. What that means is that Simon
knows, and I can kiss Jim around him now. Whatever. That was never important to
me. Just being with him is enough--I don't care who knows, or who doesn't know.
I wish I could think of some way to show him how much I love him; how thankful
I am to him for being there when I needed him to be. Maybe I'll ask him to
marry me--I wonder what he'd say?
************************************
The sun was just
beginning to fade over the horizon when the two principles stepped up before
the holy man. He smiled at them, then raised his hands and tilted his head,
chanting in a low monotone toward the heavens. Blair sneaked a peek at Jim, and
was amused to see his lover doing the same.
They'd done it on
the same day, at the same time. Almost as if their brain-waves were operating
on the same frequency. It had been a Friday evening, and the ballgame was on
TV. Blair had just finished up the dishes, and Jim had finished putting away
papers, books, and assorted junk. They'd settled onto the couch, wrapped in
each other's arms, when Blair decided it was now or never.
"Hey,
Jim?"
"Yeah,
Chief?"
"Umm... Never
mind."
"Okay." Jim
turned his attention back to the television, then back again to Blair.
"Chief?"
"Yeah?"
Silence. Blair
twisted to see Jim's face, and was surprised to see it drawn in deep
contemplation. He took a deep breath and turned again.
"Blair, will
you--"
"Jim, will
you--"
"Marry
me?" Two voices finished, grins breaking out on their faces as they
realized what they'd done.
"God yes,
Jim," Blair sighed, throwing his arms around his lover.
"Oh,
baby..." Jim didn't even get to finish his answer, Blair's enthusiastic
hug knocked the air right out of his lungs.
A kiss of love, of
cherishment, turned to one of passion then, and they celebrated making their
commitment to each other the best way they knew how, through the mutual worship
of their bodies.
Naomi was the first
one they called; she was thrilled to hear the news. "I have someone in
mind to do the ceremony," she enthused. Jim made Blair swear that he
wouldn't let his mother do something "strange, wild or weird," since
he wanted their wedding to be something to be remembered because of the love
and vows exchanged, not for the goings-on during it. Blair pouted for about
fifteen minutes before admitting that Naomi did get carried away sometimes, but
she meant well. He promised not to let her let things get to wild.
The next people who
were told were Jim's folks, who congratulated them, but weren't exactly
thrilled. They promised to come to the wedding, but Jim told Blair not to hold
his breath. "My folks are nice people, but kind of on the straight and
narrow," he explained quietly, sorrow in his voice.
Blair held him
tightly, angry with the people who couldn't see past their own small world to
express happiness for their son's happiness. "I'll make it up to you,
Jim," he vowed, rocking his lover and stroking the velvety softness of the
short hair. "You'll never lack for love as long as I'm around, and I'm
planning on being here forever and always."
Simon was the last
of their closest friends or family--and he already knew about their
relationship, although he'd been aware of the depth. He congratulated them, and
promised to be at the wedding, as long as he didn't have to hold either of
their hands when they got antsy before the wedding. Both men grinned and said
no, they'd manage.
And now here they
were, standing beside each other, facing a Yaqui tribal holy man--about to
commit to each other for life. The tribal elder finished his chant to the life
forces, then asked Jim and Blair to join hands. They did so, and he chanted
over them again, this time holding his hands over their clasped ones. When he
finished the chant they turned to each other. Jim removed Blair's ring from his
pocket, and slipped it onto Blair's finger, saying as he did so,
"I pledge to
you my life and my love for all time, until we are parted in death, and
reunited in the afterlife. I promise the protection of my body, and the worship
of my soul for always. I will be there for you, whether sick or healthy, rich
or poor. I will love, honor and cherish you, and never forsake you."
Blair blinked
rapidly, pushing the tears from his eyes. He took Jim's ring from his pocket
and slid it onto the bigger man's finger.
"You are my
life, my heart and soul, my world, my universe. Without you I am nothing, wish
to be nothing. I promise to you my life and love for all time, in this life and
the others. I will be there for you, whether sick or healthy, rich or poor. I
will love, honor and cherish you, and never forsake you."
The tribal holy man
gestured for the men to face him again, keeping their hands joined. He spoke
aloud:
"Jim and Blair
have made their vows in the company of witnesses, but also in the company of
the ancient spirits and winds of the earth; they have vowed to love and keep
one another, and never to forsake the other. These vows serve as a sacred oath
to one another, and shall be blessed by the ancient ones. Go, Jim and Blair,
and live your lives in happiness with each other, knowing you are blessed by
true love and by the ancients."
The two men turned
toward each other and kissed, then turned back to their small gathering of
guests, who were now cheering loudly. Blair was happy to see Jim's mother
standing next to his own; at least one member of Jim's family cared enough to
try. He gripped his husband's hand and spoke softly, "You're mine!"
Jim squeezed back,
and whispered back to him, "Forever."
"And
always?"
"And
always."
~Finis~
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