Warning: Curves Ahead
By Mickey M.
© Sept. 1997

I don't think I've ever worked so hard in my life as that first year of college. Hey, *you* try being a 40-year old freshman, see how it works for you! Besides which, after the first semester, when word-of-mouth kicked in, my self-defense courses took off. When the fall semester rolled around I found myself with forty women and about six men-small, like Blair-who wanted to learn how best to defend themselves if necessary. One course became two, which turned into three and suddenly there were three nights a week when my time was no longer my own, nor Blair's. 

My partner, blessed with incredible organizational skills when he deemed it appropriate, took over the administrative aspect of it. I didn't have a "course load" like the majority of the teachers and professors on campus, but I did have 46 students who needed to be looked after. Blair took it on with no complaints. Looking after *me*. My guide, turned nurturer.

 "You need more sleep, man," he told me on the way home one night. "You looked wiped." 

"I am, babe," I answered around a yawn. "That last round really took it out of me." 

"You still have homework to do, too, don't you?" he asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Guilty," I smiled. "I didn't have time after history to get anything done. *I* still have to warm up before I let 15 people beat on me for two hours, y'know?" 

He sighed and gave me "the" look from under his lashes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Proof of how tired I was; I was letting Blair drive us home.

"Sandburg..."

"Uh-uh, buddy. Stop right there. Man, don't *even* start calling me that. That's reserved for the 'you're in serious shit and you know it' type lectures and speeches. Let's keep it more personal, shall we?"

I returned the look. "You're the one riding my ass, Chief."

"Because you're trying to do too much!"

"Pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"What kind of pace did you keep for two years? You nearly wore yourself out on numerous occasions."

"Yeah, but that was different."

"How do you figure? Because it was you and not me? That's double standards, Chief, and that kind of shit ain't gonna fly."

He gave me a disgusted look and turned his eyes back to the road. "I worry about you, babe," he muttered quietly, knowing that I could hear it.

I reached my hand across to gently squeeze his thigh. "I know you do, and I'm grateful. But Blair, I've got 46 people *counting* on me to teach them how to look out for themselves, how to defend themselves. I can't let them down."

"Just don't hurt yourself, Jim, or it isn't going to matter." He was silent the rest of the way home.

* * * *

I got up the next morning when the alarm went off, feeling like I'd hardly slept. By the time I'd finished up the history reading and the essay I had to write, it'd been nearly midnight. I had an eight a.m. class, and Blair's first of the day started at nine. We rode together unless our schedules were going to be *really* skewed, so we had to leave by 7:00am at the latest. In order to allow time for both of us to get showered, dressed and eat we had to get up by 5:30. If we wanted any time to fool around, it fell back to 5:00.

Blair met my groans with silence, which was a bad sign. Usually he would bitch right along with me, a kind of a game we'd play in the morning. Not on that day. He watched me closely, apparently not liking what he was seeing.

"I'll drive us in," he told me while we ate. "You sleep."

"I don't need to sleep, Chief. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are, Jim. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?" 

"About 30 minutes ago when I shaved." 

"You are so not funny, man. You've got the reddest eyes I've ever seen." 

"So I'll get some visine." 

"Take the day off, babe. You need to rest."

"I can't miss class."

"You'll miss more than one day if you get sick."

"It's not open to discussion, Sandburg."

He sighed in disgust and fell silent again. A silent Blair is not a good thing, but after four plus years together I'd learned that sometimes if I let him work his way out of the funk he's okay.

That was more or less the case this time, although it took nearly the entire trip into Flag. By the time I pulled into the faculty parking lot he was in a little bit better mood; seemed less inclined to argue with me.

"You're done with classes by eleven on Fridays, right?"

"Yeah," I answered absently, scanning the lot for an open parking space. Ah-ha! I pulled the truck into the space and put it in park.

"Let's go for a drive this weekend, maybe camp out."

I risked a glance in his direction. "Too much to do, Chief."

"Dammit, Jim!"

The words were nearly shouted and his voice rang through the small cab of the truck. I found myself flinching as my ears telegraphed their displeasure. I shot a glare at him. "Thanks, bunches, Sandburg." God, my temples were pounding now.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I really am. But listen to me, okay? Listen to your *guide* if you won't listen to your lover. You *need* a break, man. You're running on empty. Let's get out of town and away from stuff for a couple of days. We'll leave Friday after your classes, come back early Sunday. That'll give both of us time to get ready for Monday."

His eyes were pleading with me. Damn, he knows I can't resist the eyes, not even after this long. They should be registered as a fucking lethal weapon. I found myself wondering *why* I was so grumpy all of a sudden and wondered if there wasn't some truth in what Blair was saying.

"Fine, we'll go camping." I mumbled the words without looking at him, grabbed my backpack and left the truck. Fifty feet away I stumbled slightly as I heard a gentle voice say, 'I love you, Jim.'

I felt like a total asshole now. "I love you too, Chief," I whispered, knowing he couldn't hear me.

* * * *

It was Thursday, so he had a free period from eleven to twelve. Not coincidentally, so did I. I picked up a couple of sandwiches from the deli in the student activity center and headed for the natural sciences building.

He had a student in his office when I arrived, so I hung around out in the hallway until the kid left. When the coast was clear I tapped on the door and walked in. He turned and looked at me, a carefully blank expression on his face.

"Hi," he offered in a neutral tone.

"Hi." I set the sandwiches down. "I'm sorry, Chief. I don't know what the problem is." I watched him arch an eyebrow at me and smiled. "Okay, so I do know what the problem is, and you're right. You still up to doing some camping this weekend?"

"Man, am I ever." The enthusiasm came back and he leaned in close to steal a quick kiss. "Thanks, baby," he muttered as he pulled away.

"No, thank you." I pulled him back to me, folding him into my arms.

"Jim," he protested, putting up a token struggle. "Not here!"

"Hush. I'm just holding you. Anyone got a problem with that, they can take it up with me. Hey, be still, okay? I want to enjoy this." I snuggled him closer, drawing him tight against me. His body was warm and that warmth spread through me, almost as if I was absorbing a part of him. What a wonderful thought. I sighed and squeezed him, then let go.

"Eat up, Chief. We both have places to be in less than an hour."

He unwrapped his sandwich, eyes shining when he saw that it was tofu and sprouts on whole-wheat. "*Thanks*, Jim!"

I shuddered while I watched him devour that. It just didn't seem like a sandwich without meat and cheese. I took a bite of mine, then asked, "So where did you want to go camping?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Up north of the Snow Bowl, maybe?"

"Yeah...that'd work. Want to pack in, or just find a spot we can drive to?"

"Packing in is more fun, but we need this to be as relaxing as possible. Let's just drive until we find someplace we can get to easily and pitch a tent."

"Deal." I eyed him suspiciously. "You look like a man with something on his mind, Chief. C'mon, what's up?"

"Nothing, Jim. Just thinking of some meditation exercises..."

"The most meditative I want to get is at one end of a fishing pole."

"No, we're not going fishing this time. Jim, we're not doing *anything*, get it? Except relaxing, meditating and maybe-*maybe*, mind you-making love."

I smirked at him. Me and Sandburg, alone in a tent in the middle of nowhere? If he didn't think I was going to pounce, he needed to rewire his brain. He saw the smirk and returned it. Okay, so maybe he was bluffing with that one. I finished the rest of my sandwich quickly and washed it down with a bottle of water I'd bought for us. "Gotta go, babe. Ecology's at the far end of the campus."

"Have fun, Jim." He stood and tossed his garbage into the can by the door, leaned in for a quick kiss. "I'll see you here at four, right?"

"Yeah. Will you carry my books when you walk me home, Teach?" I grinned at him.

"You're the bigger one," he teased back. "You should carry *mine*."

"Ha! Some partner you are." I kissed him once more, never able to resist tasting him, then shouldered the book bag and headed down the hallway.

* * * *

"I had a thought," was his first comment to me that afternoon.

"Missed you too, babe," I couldn't resist. He rolled his eyes and continued. "We could up to the Kaibab forest instead. Higher elevation, better for hiking."

"I thought we weren't going to do anything on this trip."

"I know what I said; I also know what we normally do." He scoffed, "did you really think I was going to be able to go an entire weekend without jumping your bones?"

"I'd hope not, Junior," I told him, swatting him on the butt. "I live to jump yours!" I grabbed one cheek and squeezed then headed for my door.

"You're impossible," he said through snorts of laughter. I grinned at him and gestured him into the truck.

It was on the way home that I remembered our usual once-a-month, haven't-missed-one-in-a-while function. "Blair-tomorrow night is Messy Jack's."

"And Saturday night is...Damn! I forgot all about that. Shit."

I shook my head. "Such language, and from a teacher."

"Yeah, man. Not like you've never heard the words before. Let's call them-I'm sure they understand needing to get away."

I nodded. For the last nine months or so we'd go out with Patrick one night a month to this fabulous burger and bar called Messy Jack's. Our penance-all of us-was that on Saturday night Blair and I had to babysit so that Patrick could take Alisha out. Not that either of us minded too much-god knows, if I were staying at home all day with three wild and crazy kids like Alisha did, I'd want out once a month too. So we had Friday night out with the guys, then the next night we'd brush up on our bedtime stories and such and tuck the little tykes into bed. Patrick and Alisha let us crash in their guest room on those nights, since they usually didn't get back until late, and their home was out of Flag as well, only in the opposite direction.

A small moan drew me from my thoughts and I turned my head to see Blair a strange green color.

"Stop the truck, Jim," he gasped. I pulled to the side of the rode and he flung himself out just in time. The bitter stench of vomit rose heavily in the air and I swallowed hard to force my own stomach back down.

"Blair?" I moved around the truck to find him crouched over, moaning quietly. "Blair? Sweetheart-what's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I-" and cut it short to throw up again. I stepped behind him to brace him so he didn't go off the side of the hill, then pulled the handkerchief from my pocket for him to wipe his mouth off with.

"You okay?"

"I don't...know." He shifted, his arms tightening around himself. "Hurts. Like fire in my stomach." His face was pale, but sweaty. I picked up his wrist and felt his pulse. Thready and fast.

"C'mon, let's get you to the hospital."

"No..." He resisted me. "Just a stomach virus, man-"

"Bull, Chief. C'mon." I hauled him to his feet and lifted him into the truck.

We had to stop twice more for him to empty his stomach-both times ended up being dry heaves. By the time I got him to the hospital he'd curled in on himself and was moaning quietly, his face slick with sweat.

I carried him into the ER room. The attendants took one look at him and rushed him off to triage.

The doctors performed an emergency appendectomy an hour later.

* * * *

I sat next to his bed until he woke up, groggy from the anesthesia and pain.

"Hi," I tried to smile as I threaded my fingers through his.

"Hi," he rasped. "You look like shit, Jim."

"Thanks, pal. You scared me out of ten years." I raised his hand up and kissed the knuckles, tried not to squeeze too hard. My relief over his coming out of surgery was nearly overwhelming me.

"What happened?"

"Your appendix. You had a massive infection. The doctor said that you'll probably feel pretty lousy until the antibiotics kick in."

"How long do I have to stay in the hospital?"

"I don't know yet. We'll ask the doctor when he comes by." I stroked his hair back gently, the feel of it as it slipped through my fingers oddly soothing. "How long have you been feeling sick, babe?"

"Huh?" His eyes jerked open and I mentally kicked myself. He'd probably been drifting off again.

"How long have you been sick? And hiding it from me?"

"I haven't been sick, Jim. Just a stomach ache here and there and some indigestion."

"And you never said a word."

"It wasn't happening all the time, and it was manageable." He shrugged, awkwardly, since I still had one hand and there was a IV in the other arm.

 I leaned a little closer. "You could have died, you little fool! I want you to tell me when you don't feel good, got it?"

"What, you're a doctor now, too?"

That hurt. "No, but I can ...sense...things that are off-kilter in your system. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that. Jim, I really didn't think it was anything big. Everyone gets stomachaches, okay?"

I sighed. Here he was, just a couple hours out of major surgery and I was riding his ass about not telling me about stomachaches. I really did need some time off, or something. "I'm sorry, Chief. You're right and I'm being an ass." Again, I added silently. I'd been an ass earlier in the morning.

"What's wrong, Jim?" Incredible. His voice was quiet, rough with pain and drugs, and he was asking *me* what was wrong. What did I do to deserve him in my life? I'd be paying the debt for the rest of forever.

"Nothing, babe. I'm just glad you're okay." I leaned down and kissed the warm forehead. He had a slight fever. "You sleep, honey. I'll be right here."

His eyes closed and a small, breathy moan issued from him as he scooted slightly then fell asleep.

I watched over him all night, occasionally sending up prayers of thanks that he was all right.

* * * *

Blair was in the hospital for ten days, then he was on restriction as far as mobility and activity levels. He whined, moaned, groaned and complained through the whole thing. I would tell him good-naturedly to shut up, then turn around and silently thank whomever that he was still around to complain.

See, I *know* that having appendicitis isn't necessarily that big of a deal-but I was at a critical stage right then. Just starting to get my footing back under me, when someone tried to kick it back out. I walked around for the next several months feeling paranoid.

Patrick and two other officers on the campus security staff rotated through the self-defense course to help me out. Before the semester ended I had a meeting with them and the university president and explained the problem I was having regarding scheduling. I told them I could handle one or two nights a week, but no more. Unfortunately, we had over fifty students signed up for the next set of courses beginning in January. The president transferred the program to security's jurisdiction and recommended that we work out scheduling among ourselves.

Patrick downgraded me to one night a week for the remainder of the semester; then only two nights per week as long as I was actively *taking* classes. He assigned several other officers to take the other classes.

Once he was healed, Blair and I started taking off to the woods one weekend per month to do some relaxation exercises and get our minds off of work and school. When it was too cold we stayed at home, with the phone and TV unplugged, usually spending most of the weekend in bed, and often just snuggling when we did that.

I finished out my first year at Northern Arizona University with a 3.63 GPA and made the Dean's List. Not too bad for an old guy, huh?

~finis~

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