Penance

Part Two

Jim pulled the blanket over Blair, smiling at the innocence on the sleeping man's face. He frowned then at the hitch in Blair's breathing as some silent pain worked its way through his system.

They'd stood there in the living room, holding each other, giving comfort to one another, for endless minutes. The phone ringing had forced them to separate and by the time Jim got off the phone with Simon, Blair was yawning hugely. Jim reacquainted the younger man with the basics in the loft, then got him settled comfortably in his own bed before leaving to meet with Simon. Blair had been asleep before he left the loft; by the time he'd

returned his partner was caught firmly in the sandman's grip.

Shaking his head at the sight of the bruised, but still beautiful face, Jim tucked the blanket in a little more, then went upstairs to his own bed. It was still fairly early, barely nine p.m., but it had been a hellatiously long eight days, starting with Blair's disappearance, and he was tired. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

*************************

What was that noise? Jim pulled himself up from the deep sleep he'd been in, cop instincts and sentinel senses on full alert. He was reaching for the gun under his pillow when he realized that it was Blair climbing up the stairs.

"Sandburg! What the hell are you doing?" He double-checked the safety on the weapon and shoved it into his bedside table.

"I...w-woke up...I d-didn't kn-know where I was. Jim...I--"

Jim could hear the younger man's heart racing, heard him swallow nervously. "You got scared, didn't you?" At the younger man's nod he scooted over a bit and patted the bed next to him. "Come on in."

"Thanks, Jim." Blair slid under the covers, sighing as the heat from Jim's body enveloped his own. He instantly felt safe and warm, protected. Even the blank spots in his memory couldn't overpower this.

Jim sighed as Blair's racing heart rate slowed down. He could still feel tremors coming from the lean figure and decided he wasn't going to get to sleep until Blair was warmed up as well. "C'mere, buddy," he rolled over, moving back toward his partner. Blair shifted toward him, then turned onto his side. Jim spooned behind him and wrapped an arm across the narrow waist. Blair sighed and snuggled backward, melting into the blessed warmth.

"'Night, Jim," he whispered in a drowsy voice.

"'Night, Chief," Jim whispered back, nearly asleep himself.

*************************

Blair was already up and out of bed when Jim woke the next morning. He pulled on sweats against the chill in the air and headed downstairs. His partner was curled up on the sofa leafing through photo albums.

"Hey," he called on his way to the bathroom.

"Hey yourself," Blair responded, not looking up from his pictures. "I made coffee--you like it strong, right?"

Jim heard the waver of uncertainty in his friend's voice and smiled. "Yeah, I do. Thanks. Have you eaten?" Nature's call appeased, Jim returned to stand behind the sofa, peering at the albums.

"Uh-uh. I only got up half an hour ago. I woke up around six--guess I was used to the nurse coming in to check on me." A small grin flashed across Blair's face and Jim felt an answering one spread across his.

"What sounds good?" Jim hoped he could tempt the younger man into eating since his appetite was still lagging.

"Nothing, right now. I'm not hungry." Blair shook his head and gestured toward the pictures. "Do you know these people?"

Jim stared down at several pictures of Blair with a small group of people, none of whom he recognized. He felt a small growl forming in his throat at the proprietary way one of the people, a young man who looked to be Blair's age, had an arm around his friend.

"Jim?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry. No, I don't know any of them. Although I think I recognize this one," he pointed at a picture of an older man. He'd seen the guy around the anthro department a few times, though he'd never talked to him. "Do *you* recognize any of them?"

"Yeah, I think so. I just wanted to ask you to see if I was right."

"Well I'm sure we can find someone who can tell us if you're right. Who do you think they are?"

Blair pointed and rattled off some names. "Micky, Sharon, Nissa, Paul, Dr. Blain and Alex." The pointing finger lingered briefly over the man he'd named as Alex--the fellow with his arm around Blair--and Jim felt an absurd surge of jealousy rising in him. He pushed it down with effort.

"Maybe someone in the anthro department will know. I've seen Dr. Blain around a few times--but I didn't know his name."

"No," Blair muttered as he turned the page, "it's okay. I know these people. This was from a trip to Western France four years ago--we went to check out one of the digs where they'd uncovered some bones that were believed to be an early form of Homo Erectus

or maybe...it was too weird to think of finding those in France."

Jim had moved around to sit on the couch next to Blair, intrigued by this glimpse into his friend's past. "And were they?" he asked gently, not wanting to stop the dialogue.

"No..." Blair shook his head and looked up at Jim. "No, they weren't." He glanced back down at the pictures. "Alex and I were..." he trailed off and looked back up. "We were...involved, Jim. I dated him for over a year. Thought it was serious, until he decided he liked blond women better."

The older man closed his eyes, uncertain what to say. He opened them when a finger poked him in the chest. "What?"

"Does that bother you? Knowing I've been with other men? Or," he amended, "at least one other man?"

"No." Jim answered curtly, then sighed and added, "Well, yeah, I guess it does...I don't know, Blair. Hell, you're an adult. What you did before I knew you--" he broke off, not knowing where to go with that. It wasn't like they were involved right now. "I'm going to make some breakfast," he finished gruffly, not wishing to pursue that line of thought any further.

"Jim?"

"Forget it, Sandburg. You want anything?"

"I...guess so. What are you going to have?"

"Bagels," Jim threw over his shoulder. "There isn't much else in the house. We'll have to get groceries later today. Or," he amended, looking at his partner's still-injured form, "I will. You'll stay put here."

"I don't want to stay put. I need to get out, go looking around. See what I can remember."

"You're not going to help yourself if you tire yourself out to the point of getting sicker. Dr. Halings said you need to rest. You're out of the hospital, buddy, not well."

"I don't know what to tell you to make you understand how scary this is," Blair said quietly. "I've lost *myself*, Jim. I have no sense of who I am. I need to look around, see what I can find."

"Can't you just go through the stuff in your room? God knows, you have enough junk in there."

"That's not going to take long."

Jim sighed. "Let me get something to eat and we'll deal with the rest of it later, okay? This is too much to face, so early in the day."

Blair nodded at him, blue eyes wide and troubled in the beautiful face.

************************

In the end, Blair went with Jim to the grocery store.

'I'm a fool for letting him out like this,' Jim berated himself as they headed down Prospect street for the supermarket. 'He should be home, in bed, or at least on the couch, not out

wandering the streets like a healthy person.'

Healthy or not, even without his memory Blair had done a good job of pleading with those incredible eyes of his until Jim couldn't remember how to form the letters that made up the word "N-O". He sighed and cast a sideways look at his partner. Blair had hardly moved his nose from the window in the ten minutes they'd been driving.

"Hey, Jim, where'd I live before I moved in with you?"

"In a warehouse down on Sexton Place. Why?"

"Can you drive by it? I'd like to see if it jars anything."

"I don't think there's anything left of it, Chief. It was just so much rubble after the explosion; the city had plans to bulldoze it, last I heard."

"Please?"

Jim sighed. 'Why do I even bother with saying 'no'?' He turned the vehicle onto Mountain View and began heading west into the city.

**************************

"You're right," Blair said with a defeated sigh as they pulled into the Shop-a-Lot parking lot. "Just a big, empty lot that didn't trigger anything." He heaved another sigh and Jim had to fight the urge to pull Blair into his arms. His partner said he felt an attraction to him, but what did that mean, really? He sighed in frustration over what might have been and parked the truck.

"I don't know what to tell you, Chief," he said as they started meandering slowly through the grocery store. "I think you're trying too hard, though. Give it time-it's only been a little over a week. It's not like you've been out of touch for months...and you've evidenced that some of the older memories are returning."

"I guess." Blair shrugged and guided Jim over toward the produce section.

This was interesting to watch, Jim decided, as Sandburg began picking his way through the fruits and vegetables. He knew that Blair didn't have much conscious memory of likes and dislikes, but the subconscious was doing a pretty good job. So far he'd picked all the usual stuff, plus some of the things that he liked that weren't so usual, like passion fruit and watercress.

"I think we'll pass on the kiwi, Jim, 'cause it looks like it's about a year or two past it's prime," the smaller man muttered as he moved down the aisle, stopping to grab a couple of onions.

"Fine," Jim answered lightly, certain that Blair wasn't even aware that he'd "remembered" that one of Jim's favorite fruits was kiwi.

They cruised through the grocery store with Blair never once faltering on a food choice, until they got to the meat section. He paused over the selection of chicken and beef, hand hovering in indecision.

"Do I...?" he muttered quietly, as though asking himself.

"Mostly chicken, but we have beef a couple nights a week," Jim offered, unable to stand the lost expression in his friend's eyes. "We eat a lot of pasta, too. Primavera or salad style, usually," he continued.

Blair's eyes locked on to his own, pulling him into their depths. "I remember that," he offered softly. "You like my spaghetti sauce...and my primavera."

"Yeah," Jim answered just as softly. "I do."

Blair caressed Jim's face with his gaze, sweeping back and forth, lingering for a moment on the sensual-looking lips before returning to the pale blue eyes that seemed to have grown brighter.

"What do we do," he began carefully, staring directly into Jim's eyes, "if I never get all of my memories back?"

Jim stared back, mesmerized by the depth of emotion contained in those eyes. He chose his words just as carefully. "No one was able to give you a for-sure on that, Chief. You may get them all back tomorrow."

"Or not at all," Blair retorted, finally moving from the spot next to the meat counter. "You didn't answer the question."

"What if we give you some time and see where it goes? You might wake up tomorrow, all memories restored, good as new." 'Not likely, but possible,' his mind retorted.

"Dr. Halings said--"

"Sandburg, will you leave it *alone*? Please? We can discuss it at home, but not here, okay?"

"Fine." Blair tossed several packs of chicken into the basket and headed away from Jim.

The big man watched his friend go, listened to the muttered epithets as Blair cursed Jim, himself, and the tricks of fate that had brought this situation to pass. He followed, feeling inutterably sad. How did you fix something that was broken when you didn't even know where to look for the pieces?

****************************

The next week was tense and awkward for both men. Jim wanted to help but Blair wanted to do things for himself. That left Jim frustrated and Blair overtired and upset, which in turn made the younger man withdraw into himself.

Jim went back to work five days after Blair returned home, actually grateful to be able to do that. Blair wouldn't let him help with anything and it was getting to be more than he could stand to just sit around watching the younger man pouring over notebooks and scrapbooks and photo albums, trying to recapture the past.

***************************

The upside to that was that the memories *were* beginning to return, slowly. Dr. Halings had told Blair when he was discharged that she felt a lot of the memory loss was traumatic in nature, meaning that when Blair's body had a chance to rest and heal, his mind would follow suit.

He had no recent memories though, unless you counted three years ago as recent. He'd read through the notes he'd accumulated on his sentinel research, including the notes he'd made since working with Jim and determined that he'd been interested in sentinels for a very long time; where'd he'd first read about them escaped him, though he knew that Burton's work figured very heavily into that. Why had he been reading anything by Burton, though? The last memory he had involved trying to pick an actual field of anthropology to specialize in and nearly going with physical, as opposed to cultural.

Blair sighed and shook his hair out of his eyes. He'd been reading over his journals for the last three hours and his back was beginning to cramp from sitting in one place for so long. His stomach growled too, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything in a long time. He shifted to stand up and his eye caught the entry below where he'd been reading:

"March 30, 1996

I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to live here like this. It's getting harder and harder to be around Jim and not show how I feel for him. Of course this brings into play all sorts of questions about ethical issues--how ethical is it to fall in love with your research subject? Certainly puts a slant on how I see things, I'm sure. I wonder if I can continue with this project, knowing that I have a bias like this?

I've pushed these feelings back and away for so long that it feels normal now to ache constantly for him. Hell, I'm not even talking about sex necessarily, although I'm about as horny as a sixteen year-old right now. No, I'm talking about the emotional closeness. We've achieved some of that--I'm sure that Jim hasn't let anyone in as close as he's let me, in years. I want to be closer, though. I want to be able to hold him when I'm sad--or when he is. Comfort him when he's had a bad day; snuggle up against him when we watch the ball game. I want...something I've never had with anyone else before: love."

Blair stared at the journal, read the words over and over again. 'I was totally in love with the guy.' He looked up and found his gaze drawn out the window to the ocean he could see in the distance. He let himself out onto the balcony and stayed there for a long time, trying to remember loving Jim Ellison. Oh, he was fairly certain he loved him now, but that wasn't the same. *He* wasn't the same, at least not in some fundamental ways. God, he couldn't even remember what some of his notes meant without cross-referencing them. 'Can I let myself love him, knowing that the me that loves him now is different from the me who loved him before? He says he loves me...but does he love the Blair he sees now? What happens if we start a relationship like this...and I change when I get my memory back. No, why would I? I loved him before.'

"Damn," he sighed. This wasn't fair. All these feelings and thoughts and no one to ask about them. He couldn't remember if he had any close friends anymore; all he could remember was Jim. 'Almost like I didn't have a life before Jim, though I know I did, 'cause I can see the evidence of it here.' He glanced down at the journal still held tightly in his hand. Shit. His stomach growled again and he looked at his watch, surprised to find it was nearly six o'clock. Where was Jim? Should he make dinner? Wait?

A key turning in the lock alerted him to his roommate's return and Blair headed back into the loft. He was struck with a sudden, odd, impulse and when the larger man cleared the door Blair launched himself at him.

"Oof!" Jim staggered back slightly, his arms coming up around the slighter frame. "What's up with you, Sandburg?"

"I don't know," the smaller man said, his face resting against a strong shoulder. "I just had the urge to hug you, man."

Warm arms squeezed, then held him for a moment, then released him. "You okay, Chief?"

"Fine," Blair answered automatically, it being mostly true. He stepped back when Jim's arms let go of him. "Mostly fine, I guess. I don't know anymore. I feel like I've got a thousand questions burning inside my brain, but I don't know where to go with them, or where to find the answers."

"Find anything useful today?"

"Yeah...I found some of my old journals."

Something in Blair's voice made Jim look up. His friend had retreated to the couch, so Jim followed, uncertain if he was going to want to hear what he was going to hear.

"And?"

Blair shook his head. "I don't know. The Blair then is so different, but so like the me *I* know..."

It was Jim's turn to shake his head. "Sandburg, deep down inside you're still *you*. This hasn't changed you that radically."

"I don't know, man." Blair tried a shaky smile at Jim. "I didn't get dinner ready yet and I'm starved. How about if we go for a walk and get something to eat out? I haven't been out all day and I'm starting to go stir crazy."

Ellison shrugged. "You're sure you're up to it? It's colder than hell outside."

"Mid-November tends to be like that," Blair responded as he stood up.

"Yeah." Jim got up too, put his coat back on. "Y'know, Thanksgiving is only a week away. What'd you want to do?"

"What do we usually do?"

Jim frowned. "Well...last year we went to Simon's...but I think he's going to his folks, with Daryl, this year. Feel up to cooking dinner?"

Blair arched a brow. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Just the two of us--" He caught the look on Blair's face. "Never mind," he finished, the ache inside settling into him like it was meant to be there. He'd hoped to have Blair by his side as his life partner this year; that had been his Thanksgiving and Christmas wish last year. This was it, then. His penance for daring to want something that could never be his.

"No, man, that's cool. Just the two of us?"

"Yeah...if that's okay?"

"Better than okay, Jim. It's great."

"It is?" Jim stopped in front of the door and stared at Blair. "You're sure?"

"Yeah! It'll be a blast--we can get a real turkey and have leftovers for days."

"You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely. Now, can we go feed me for real? All this talk about food is making me even hungrier." His stomach growled on cue and Blair grinned at his roommate, suddenly glad that he'd found that journal--it would at least give him a guideline.

*****************************

They found themselves walking in Rainier park, enjoying the quiet of the park at nighttime.

"I thought the park closes at dusk," Blair commented as they strolled through the trees.

"I thought it did, too. I don't know." Jim shrugged, showing he didn't think it was important. "How do you feel?"

Blair started to give the pat answer, then stopped and considered. "My headaches are nearly gone. I mean, I still have them, but they're not as bad and don't last as long. I'm nowhere near as stiff as I was, either. Moving around is easier. I still feel chilled most of the time, but I'm starting to think that's my imagination."

Jim nodded. Blair had come up to sleep with him five times in the past week; generally he claimed bad dreams, but the shakes that wracked the younger man told Jim that at least part of it was a bone-deep inability to *really* feel warm. Personally he didn't care how long it took Blair to feel warm again, he enjoyed having the smaller man cuddling close to him. Of course, that raised a whole other host of problems and questions, but he wasn't going to worry about it right now.

"You look better," he said finally, studying his partner with a critical eye. "The bruises are gone; at least to regular vision," he stated, inferring that *he* could still see some. "You don't look quite as tired, either."

"I'm not. I've been sleeping a lot, after you go to work."

"I'm glad to hear that." Jim continued to study him as they walked. "How about your ribs? You took the bandages off, didn't you?"

Blair shrugged. "They were uncomfortable. I think they're pretty well on their way to healing...I just have to remember not to move real fast and to brace myself before I laugh or sneeze."

Jim smiled with that. "You don't sneeze that often," he teased.

"No, but when I do, it's usually a doozy!"

Blair slowed his pace fractionally; Jim adjusted his to match, his sensitive ears listening for changes in Blair's vitals that would indicate distress of any kind. After a long moment he detected an increase in breathing that seemed to warrant attention and he smiled gently at Blair. "Need to rest?"

"Yeah, I could stand to sit for a minute," Blair nodded and let Jim lead him to the nearby bench.

It was quiet in the park; dark, still, silent. Their breath hung in the air, moisture caught in the cold air, trapped in front of them. The moon was out and shining brilliantly, illuminating everything like daytime. The cold air around them seemed to blanket them somehow, as they sat there on the bench, staring at each other.

Blair studied Jim for a moment. "I'm glad you missed me," he said finally.

"What?"

"That day that the accident happened. I'm glad you missed me. No one's ever gone looking for me before."

"Not even your mom?"

Blair shook his head. "Naomi did things differently than most moms," he offered. "She figured I was out looking at the world, learning from it, and I shouldn't be bothered by insignificant things like having to let her know where I was, stuff like that."

"That's awful!" Jim was shocked. "Does that mean that she was negligent?"

"No, just that sometimes she saw things in a different light." Blair shook his head. "I don't want to discuss that," he said, seeming unaware that he'd just had a very significant memory. "Just--thanks. For looking for me, for getting me and taking care of me...for caring about me."

Jim leaned in a little, his breath a warm puff against Blair's cheek. "It's nothing you have to thank me for, Chief. I do it because I want to...because you're important to me." Because I love you. The words hung in the air between them, unspoken but known.

Blair raised a hand, slowly, tentatively--almost asking permission. "I haven't ever had anyone care for me as much as you do," he whispered, voice hoarse. "It makes me feel...humble." His hand rested on Jim's chest, fingers curled inward, a loose clutching motion.

"I don't mean for it to," Jim told him, leaning in a little closer. "I want you to feel comfortable. Loved." There. He'd said it.

"I do. But what about you?"

"What about me?"

Blair managed to shrug without dislodging his hand. "I don't really know how I feel about you..." He trailed off. "I know how I *felt* about you, before," he breathed, his pulse quickening when Jim brought his own hand up and covered Blair's that was still resting on the hard chest.

"How was that?" Jim's voice was husky and deep; eyes brilliant in the moonglow.

"I...I was in love with you. Found it in my journal today..." Blair let his voice trail off when Jim brushed a thumb across his lips.

"What about now?"

"I don't know how I feel right now, Jim. I-I'm confused...scared...I don't want to make you love a person who isn't who you fell in love with...even if I look the same, I'm different, now."

"Not at the basic level," Jim shook his head, the finger that had been stroking his lips now sliding into his hair, stroking the soft strands that curled around Blair's face. "You're still Blair. *My* Blair." He leaned forward, closing the miniscule gap between them, breathing the last words against Blair's lips.

With a tiny sob from the back of his throat, Blair leaned into Jim, pressing his lips against the warm, strong ones that were so close.

Their lips met in that gentle kiss, barely touching, breath warm against the other's. Jim nuzzled his way across to Blair's ear, then drew the younger man down against his chest, his lips still tasting the scent and flavor of his partner.

Blair sighed and wrapped his arms around Jim, pulling the larger body close against his own, holding on tight. "I don't know what to say," he mumbled sometime later. "I don't know what to do."

Jim kissed his ear, then gave the lobe a quick lick, tongue playing with the small silver hoops there. "Just go with the feelings," he said. "Let yourself relax and the rest will come."

"It doesn't bother you? That I may never remember who I am?"

"You'll remember," Jim promised, tipping Blair's head back. He stared at his partner for a long moment, asking permission with his eyes. It was granted the same way and he closed the distance between them again, lowering his mouth to Blair's.

It was a deeper kiss this time, their tongues searching, tentatively, tasting each other. Blair moaned low in his throat, the feel of Jim's lips on his driving him crazy. He opened his mouth a little wider, inviting the bigger man in. Jim intensified the kiss for a moment, sucking on Blair's tongue, then pulled away. Both of them were breathing hard, faces flushed in the cold.

"Let's go home and finish this discussion there. It's too cold out here." Jim set Blair back away from him.

The younger man stood, legs shaky. "I'm not cold at all," he stated, grinning at Jim. "Pretty warm, matter of fact."

"Me, too, but this is hardly the place..." Jim trailed off when he realized how he wanted to finish that sentence, 'to make love to you'. "C'mon, Sandburg, let's go home."

"Sounds good to me, man." Blair held out his hand and let Jim pull him up. They both withdrew into themselves then, considering what had just happened, and were quiet for the walk home.

******************************

They were nearly back to the loft before Blair found the courage to ask, "How many men have you...been involved with?"

Jim turned, surprise on his face. "Why?"

A gentle shrug, motion carefully controlled so as not to hurt healing bones. "Just wondering. Wondering how much either of us knows about this." Wondering what 'this' was, exactly.

"One other. He was...we were lovers in college."

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

Blair screwed his face up. "Oh, man...don't tell me you don't know--?"

"Know what? How many men you've been with?" At Blair's nod, Jim jerked his head roughly in an imitation of a head-shake. "Sandburg, up until I saw that picture you showed me last week, of you with that kid's arm around you, I'd never suspected you'd been with anyone other than women."

"So I haven't dated any guys since living with you."

"Not to my knowledge." Jim's answer was short, sharp. Blair turned to him in surprise.

"You're jealous? Of a man I can't even remember?"

"Could be 'men'," Jim answered, trying to relax. He sighed. "Hell, yes, I'm jealous, Chief. Of anyone and everyone you've been with before, including women. Anyone that wasn't me."

Blair glanced up in surprise when a door opened, not realizing they'd reached the building. He stepped inside, Jim following behind him. "You don't have to be jealous, man. I look at you and can't even picture wanting anyone else." He kept his eyes trained on Jim through his lashes, wanting to be able to gauge the bigger man's reaction to his words.

Jim was quiet for the entire trip up the stairs to their apartment. He opened the door, let Blair in, then shut it quickly. "You want me?" he asked hoarsely, as soon as the <snick> of the lock filled the air.

Blair swallowed. "Yeah," he muttered quietly. "I want you."

Jim turned Blair back against the door, gently pressing the smaller body against the hard surface with his own. He placed his arms on either side of Blair's head and bent his own to brush a soft kiss across sensual lips.

Blair moaned softly and tilted his head upward, increasing the angle and the pressure of Jim's lips against his own. He opened his mouth, allowing Jim's questing tongue to slip inside where he teased it with his own, playing a sexy little game of tag.

They backed off with a mutual, silent agreement, breath coming in harsh, fast pants. Jim stared at Blair, seeing arousal and desire in his eyes...seeing love. He smiled at Blair, leaned his head down again to capture a willing mouth in a rougher kiss, this one full of nips and tiny bites. Jim moaned when Blair slid his hands upward, fingers caressing through the soft wool of his sweater. Those hands clasped around Jim's neck, pulling him closer, before moving back downward. Warm hands slid under his sweater then, fingers tracing ribs and muscles with single-minded focus. Jim groaned and deepened the kiss when Blair's fingertips danced across his nipples, teasing them to full, aching points; tiny erect nubs that screamed to be plucked, rolled and suckled.

"Not here," Jim managed in between tiny kisses across Blair's jaw and throat. "Come upstairs with me?"

Blair drew back, not very far with the door right behind him. "You sure, Jim?"

The larger man took Blair's hand in his and drew it down to the erection throbbing behind denim. "I'm sure. Feel how sure I am, baby. That's for you...that's how much I want you."

"Oh, God, Jim--" Blair's eyes were wide, trusting, full of need and confusion. "Man, I want you, too...but is this a good idea? Ohhhh..." He moaned when Jim's teeth fastened on an earlobe and tugged gently, the sensations sparking straight to his groin.

"It's a *great* idea, Sandburg. Trust me on this one, okay?" Jim breathed the words into Blair's ear, tongue rimming the edge as he spoke, then pulled back to see his reaction. His partner nodded, eyes dazed and glazed over. "Good," he muttered as he backed away. "Come on. Let's go get comfortable."

***************************

'Comfortable', Blair thought while lying in the big bed watching Jim undress, 'isn't quite what I'd call it.' His erection throbbed heavily against the sheet he'd pulled over himself against the chill. Jim's body was a work of art, he decided, watching it unveil. He was much too turned on to be very comfortable, not to mention the aches and pains from a body not yet totally healed.

"I don't know if I can do much," he whispered when Jim slid in beside him. "My ribs are still sore..."

"We don't have to do anything at all, Chief. I just wanted us comfortable if we *do* decide to do anything." Jim rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow. He trailed a finger lazily down Blair's nose before circling the full lips. "It's criminal that anyone could do this to you and get away with it."

"They were going to leave me to die," Blair muttered, sighing when the finger continued to outline his mouth. He made a tiny noise in the back of his throat when the finger pulled away unexpectedly.

"What?!"

"What, what?" Blair opened eyes he didn't remember closing to look at Jim.

"You just said they were going to leave you to die! You remember something?"

Blair concentrated on what he'd just said and the thoughts swirling around his head. "Noooo..." he drew out, finally. "I don't really *remember*, not everything anyway. Just that fragment. They were going to leave me to die." He said the words again, softly, and shivered.

"Oh, baby," Jim sighed in sorrow and frustration. "C'mere." He pulled Blair gently into his embrace. "I wish I could just hit a button and bring your memory back, Chief. "I wish I could find whoever did this to you and give them a little taste of their own medicine." The larger man shook his head. "I hate that someone hurt you and I can't do anything about it."

"It's not your fault I don't have any memories to give you," Blair ventured, snuggling further into the warm arms. He sighed in pleasure when Jim bent his head slightly to nuzzle at his hair.

"Let's make some new memories, then," Jim whispered into the ear closest to him. "I love you, baby, so much. Let me show you how much, Blair."

"Oh yeah. I'm all for hands-on demonstrations..." Blair tilted his head back, mouth inviting Jim's kiss.

It was a sensual kiss, meant to entice and seduce. Jim opened Blair's mouth slowly with his own, slipping his tongue in and out, gliding across the tops of Blair's teeth and over the roof of his mouth. He sucked on Blair's tongue, then stroked it with his own, feeling each tiny taste bud. The sides of Blair's cheeks and gumline got the same treatment before Jim pulled back, licking the corners of Blair's mouth before sucking the full lower lip into his mouth.

He gasped in surprise when fingers pulled at his nipples; Blair smiled against his mouth before opening further to deepen the kiss. Jim shuddered as talented fingers coaxed his nipples into fully erect buds, the sensations being relayed instantly to his cock, which responded in kind.

"Touch me, baby," he gasped, drawing one of Blair's hands down to where his cock was throbbing uncomfortably. A ragged breath exploded from him when warm fingers gently touched him before wrapping snugly around his heated flesh, exerting firm pressure before stroking him.

"You feel so good, Jim," Blair moaned, arching his head back, baring his throat to the teeth that were nipping there. "God, you feel good." The younger man continued to stroke the hard cock in his hand, his own cock twitching in anticipation.

As if Jim was reading his thoughts a large warm hand slid down him to wrap around his straining erection. Blair's breath exploded from him in an audible gasp. "Ohhhh..."

Jim stilled instantly. "You okay, Chief?"

"Fine...don't stop...Jesus, Jim, don't stop!"

Ellison chuckled and bent his head back down to lick at the tempting nipples that were standing at attention for him.

"So...the nipple-ring thing *wasn't* all talk," he murmured as he teased the erect nubbin and bit of jewelry with his tongue.

"No--" Blair managed, arching instinctively into the touch. "Owww! Shit!" He groaned and moved backward, body shaking suddenly with pain rather than passion as he pushed his newly-healing ribs beyond their limit.

"Blair! Oh, god, baby--are you okay?" Jim pulled away instantly, his body curved protectively over the smaller man's.

"Fine--" Blair panted harshly, trying to quell the spasms racing through him. "God, that's a mood wrecker," he muttered, his body beginning to relax. His erection had faded when the pain ripped through him.

"Doesn't matter, as long as you're all right." Jim shook his head, settling himself next to Blair. "You are, right?"

"I'm fine, I just pushed too much." Blair shifted gingerly, settling himself. "Will you...kiss me again?"

"I don't know if I should lay a hand, or anything else, on you right now."

"Come on, Jim." Blair ran his eyes down his partner's body, assessing. Jim's erection was still very much evident. "Kiss me...touch yourself. One of us should be able to enjoy this."

"Blair--"

"I'm serious, man. There'll be other times for me, won't there?" His eyes were suddenly serious, a little concerned.

"There'll be a *lot* of other times, for both of us, love." Jim scooted closer, moving up next to Blair's body. He groaned when the younger man shifted so he was slightly higher then him, then leaned down and kissed him. Blair's hair fell around them like a curtain and soft lips moved over his, tasting and arousing.

"Touch yourself, lover," Blair whispered against his lips. "Touch yourself and imagine my hand there...picture your hand stroking me. That's it--" He watched Jim, his own body growing warm again from the erotic tableau before him. "Slow down, babe...we're not in a hurry here..." Blair leaned back against the pillows, curling in against Jim's body. "Stroke yourself...slide your hand up and down...cup your balls with your other hand..." Blair broke off and kissed Jim again, his own breathing quickening as he watched Jim pleasuring himself, obviously getting off on his words.

The bigger man's body was taut with desire now, cock hard and drooling, as pre-cum welled up from the tiny slit on the crown. "Oh, god, you're beautiful, Jim!" He leaned back over to kiss the larger man, his own body rousing again as desire replaced the memory of pain.

"Come...with me," Jim panted, his body arching and tightening under his hand.

"Not this time, lover, but I'll enjoy yours." Blair stroked his hand down Jim's chest, pausing to play with the hard nipples he found there. He pinched gently, knowing that Jim's heightened sense of touch/feeling would increase the sensation. A low groan pulled his gaze from the tight little buds and he watched, desire curling through him, as Jim's cock stiffened visibly, then spasmed, thick, creamy fluid shooting forth.

"God, Blair...I wanted...I--" Jim lay back on the pillow, his breathing hard and fast, his heart pounding. He'd wanted it to be together, both of them for each other. Not alone...not like this.

Blair leaned over again and kissed Jim gently. "I know what you wanted, lover. I don't think I can do it until I'm healed better, though. I enjoyed watching *you*, though." He smiled, almost shyly, at Jim. "You're beautiful."

Jim growled playfully, rolling toward his lover. "You're stealing my lines, Sandburg. You're the beautiful one." He lowered his head and kissed Blair thoroughly, until the younger man was breathless.

"Says you," he managed after a minute. "Listen to us," he laughed. "A couple of love-struck teenagers."

"That's us," Jim agreed affably. He sighed, content, and drew Blair closer to him. "Love you, Chief."

"I know," Blair said quietly, wishing he had the courage to say it, as well. Wishing, once again, that his memories hadn't been stolen from him, so he could say and know that *he* meant it. The Blair Sandburg before his accident had loved Jim. He wanted to be that Blair Sandburg again.

He cuddled into Jim and fell asleep to the comforting touch of gentle hands stroking his hair.

***************************

Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and clear, no trace of the storm that had dumped an inch of snow on them last night. Jim rolled over, shielding his eyes from the glare feeding through the slats of the shades. Where was Blair? He took a deep breath, then smiled when he realized what the tantalizing aroma floating through the loft was: Turkey.

"Hey, babe," a mischievous voice called up to him. "You awake yet, man? It's getting late, here."

"I'm up, Sandburg," Jim growled, grinning in spite of himself. "Besides, you're the one