DISCLAIMER:  Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg along with <deep breath> 
Simon, Taggert, Brown, Ryf, Carolyn, Sam, Naomi, Stephen and the 
Sentinel concept are the property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. No 
copyright infringement intended. 
 
Forgive me for my prolonged absence but Mysti's laid claim on just about 
everything I came up with and/or wrote between May and now <wave to 
Mysti, virtual chocolates to Editor>.  She probably would have gotten 
this one too but for the fact that I am in *serious* feedback 
withdrawal. Special thanks to all my beta readers, 
especially Merry <wave>, who saw this in various stages of completion 
and never once (well, maybe once <g>) complained about how long it was 
taking to get done.  Enjoy! 
 
 
A Different Shade 
by R'rain 
 
 
//Where the hell is that magazine?//  Jim leafed through the bookcase in 
the living room for the third time but the issue of Time he was 
searching for still wasn't there.  //Did Sandburg borrow it?  I think I 
remember him borrowing it...//  Feeling a little bit guilty, he opened 
the door to Blair's room and peeked inside.  The bookcase was 
predictably overflowing with texts, articles, and the occasional 
journal.  He was going to have to sift through it *all*. 
	 
Groaning aloud, he pushed the door open all the way, kneeling down on 
the floor in front of the book case and beginning to sort through the 
mess.  //Anthropological Digest.  Another Anthropological Digest.  
What's this a copy of?  "The Philosophy of the Navaho Indians."  I am 
*never* going to find it in this mess.//  Eventually, though, he saw the 
corner of it peeking out of some sort of binder.  Pulling it out with 
relief he saw a photograph flutter to the floor.  He picked it up and 
looked at it, grinning goofily when he realized what it was.  "Oh, 
Blair," he said aloud, stifling a laugh, "Ohhhh, Blair."  Holding the 
magazine in one hand, he picked up the photo album in the other and 
opened the front cover.  There was Blair, probably less than a year old, 
sitting naked in the bathtub.  He looked so innocent and adorable that 
Jim had to laugh; the guy hadn't changed a bit.  Well, expect for the 
fact that nowadays the innocent look was feigned more often than not. 
	 
He closed the album and took it with him into the living room, first 
putting the magazine on the kitchen table to remind himself to take it 
to the station the next day.  He snagged a chocolate chip cookie off the 
plate on the table and began munching on it as he opened the album 
again.  //Did Blair make these?  They're really good.//  He grinned at 
the picture again before turning the page and beginning to slowly leaf 
through the book.  He tenderly smiled his way through the pre-teen years 
and had to laugh at poor, pubescent Blair--all hair and buckteeth and 
pudgy limbs.  Not at all like the Blair who shared an apartment with 
him. 
	 
He heard a key in the lock and quickly dropped the photo album to the 
coffee table, looking around frantically for something to make it look 
like he'd been otherwise occupied.  There was nothing readily at hand, 
so when Blair opened the door and entered the loft he was sitting 
guiltily on the couch with the photo album closed in front of him. 
	 
"Jim, man," said Blair without looking at him, "what's up?" 
	 
"Oh, nothing," he said, lacing his fingers behind his head, "just 
sitting here thinking." 
	 
"Well, good for you.  You need to relax more often.  What were you 
thinking about?"  He dropped a paper bag of groceries onto the kitchen 
counter.  An image of Blair in his mother's dress with pearls and red 
lipstick unexpectedly popped into Jim's head and he started laughing.  
Blair whirled to look at him.  "What's so funny?  Did Anderson tell a 
new joke at the station or something?"  As he looked at his partner, 
expecting an answer, his eyes fell upon the photo album.  "What's that?" 
	 
Jim tried to snatch it up but Blair was too quick, rushing over and 
grabbing it out of Jim's hands before he got a firm grip.  "Jim, this is 
*mine*.  It was in my room.  What are you doing with it?" 
	 
"I'm sorry, Blair, I really am," he said rapidly, "I needed to find my 
Time article--Jakubowski's never seen it--and I remembered that you had 
wanted to reread it, and..." 
	 
"You couldn't have waited 'til I got home and asked?" 
	 
"How was I supposed to know you were going to be home so soon?  Usually 
when you say you're going to the library, it means that you're going to 
be gone all day and halfway through the night." 
	 
"I wish you'd asked." 
	 
"I'm sorry." 
	 
"And that still doesn't explain why you have my photo album..." 
	 
"The magazine was stuffed inside, see, and when I grabbed it this 
picture fell out and...I couldn't resist."  He looked up at Blair 
apologetically and was surprised to see the younger man smiling. 
	 
"What, you found something so terribly amusing you had to burst out 
laughing?" 
	 
"Well...yeah," admitted Jim.  He took the book back and opened it to the 
page where he had replaced the loose picture.  Blair took one look and 
burst out laughing as well. 
	 
"Oh, man, you had to find *that* one, didn't you.  That's even worse 
than the ones mom insisted on showing you."  He reached out to hold one 
side of the album and sat down on the couch next to Jim.  "That was when 
I was...eight?  Nine?  I can't even remember exactly." 
	 
Jim turned the page and Blair winced.  "Can we just, like, skip the next 
few years?  Say until I'm fifteen or so?" 
	 
Jim flashed him a sympathetic smile, "Sorry, I've already looked.  But I 
don't think we need to go through it again." 
	 
"Someday you're going to have to show me *your* childhood pictures," 
said Blair sulkily.  "This really isn't fair you know." 
	 
"Life isn't fair, Sandburg," said Jim, skimming past a number of pages, 
"and the chances of you finding a picture of me before I'm fourteen is 
about as likely as you being hit by lightning.  Got that?" 
	 
"Loud and clear," said Blair with a grin.  "That bad, were they?" 
	 
Jim didn't answer, and stopped on a page with a picture of Blair and 
Naomi somewhere in a jungle.  "Where's this?" 
	 
"Brazil," said Blair immediately.  "Naomi took me down there right 
before I started my junior year in high school; she had a couple of 
friends she wanted to visit and I just wanted something to do for the 
summer. 
	 
"Ah," said Jim, flipping slowly through the pages of Blair's high school 
days.  "You know, you do look better with long hair.  Remind me not to 
bug you about that again." 
	 
"I'm gonna hold you to that!"  Suddenly Blair became pale and tried to 
pull the book away.  "Maybe we should do this some other time," he said.  
"I still need to put those groceries away and you, you have to..." 
	 
"I don't have anything else to do," said Jim, laughingly pulling the 
album back.  "What are you trying to hide from me, Sandburg?" 
	 
"Jim, you have no right!" he protested as Jim turned the page.  There it 
was--a picture of Blair in a tux, his arm around another boy about his 
age, wearing matching corsages. 
	 
"Blair...?" 
	 
"That's...that's David.  He was my...my date.  For the junior prom.  
Well, sort of.  I mean we both had other dates too but we were really 
going together and--oh shit, Jim, I meant to tell you.  I really did, 
but it never really came up and, well, I didn't know what you'd think or 
how you'd feel about it." 
	 
"Shut up, Blair, I'm thinking." Blair snapped his mouth shut and Jim sat 
there with a look of pure concentration on his face.  "Naomi knew?" 
	 
"She's the one who took the picture." 
	 
"I really don't get this Blair.  I mean, you're not gay, you date women 
all the time."  Jim frowned and ran a hand over his face. 
	 
"I'm bi, Jim," he said with a sigh.  "I've known since I was about 
thirteen years old.  It's not like I date men often, just sometimes.  I 
know I should have said something to you, living with you and all.  But 
it was just too easy not to, you know what I mean?" Blair stood up and 
started pacing the living room, "I liked that you treated me like I was 
just one of the guys.  I didn't want that to change." 
	 
"Do a lot of people know?" 
	 
Blair shrugged.  "Does it matter?  Most of my friends do, some of my 
students.  My family.  A lot of fellow grad students and professors.  A 
couple of guys at the station." 
	 
"Guys at the *station*?" 
	 
"Yeah.  Jim, does that really bother you?" 
	 
Jim had to think about it.  "A little.  Yeah.  You should have told me." 
	 
"Yes, according to my *own* moral code I should have told you.  But I 
wasn't under any obligation, you know.  I don't know everything about 
you either, and I know you're not just going to up and tell me one day." 
	 
"No, I guess not.  But with us living together, and people knowing about 
you, people are going to wonder about me." 
	 
Blair had to laugh.  "Jim, *no*body is ever going to wonder about you.  
You're straight as an arrow and it shows, buddy.  Besides, I've dated 
women pretty much exclusively since we met.  People know that." 
	 
"How did they find out?" 
	 
"Who?" 
	 
"The guys at the station.  The ones who know." 
	 
"Well, one of them I met at a party; he's is dating an ex-boyfriend of 
mine.  And, um, the other one I ran into at the bar one night." 
	 
"Who?  Who are they?" 
	 
Blair shook his head.  "That's not my right to tell you, man.  If they 
want to come out to you, that's their business." 
	 
"I guess that's fair.  It's just..." 
	 
"You're uncomfortable," filled in Blair.  "That's pretty clear to me." 
	 
"Blair, you don't understand." 
	 
"I don't understand?" 
	 
"Yeah, I'm uncomfortable.  Fine, I can admit that.  I'm uncomfortable 
because I've never really had anyone who was gay or bi for a friend 
before.  But I'm *more* uncomfortable that you felt you couldn't tell 
me." 
	 
"You are?" 
	 
"Yeah, I am.  I kinda got the feeling we could tell one another 
anything, Chief.  I counted on it.  Hell, I even told you about my 
family, and not even Simon or *Carolyn* knew anything about that.  I 
thought you felt the same way." 
	 
"I did--I do!  It's just...I thought this would be different...for you."  
Blair gave a small shrug and smiled timidly.  "Guess I was wrong." 
	 
"Guess you were.  Blair, I can't say I'm completely comfortable knowing 
that about you, but I'm glad I do.  Can I ask you something?" 
	 
"Anything, man.  Anything." 
	 
"Have you been with any guys since you moved in here?" 
	 
Blair blushed a little.  "Once," he admitted.  "I was seeing this guy 
last year for a while, but it didn't work out." 
	 
"Did you ever, you know, sleep with him?  In the apartment?" 
	 
Blair laughed.  "Jim, I never slept with him period.  Like I said, we 
didn't really click."  He pulled the album out of Jim's hands.  "I'm 
going to put this away.  I think it's gotten me into enough trouble for 
one afternoon." 
	 
"Blair," said Jim, "I meant it when I said I'm glad I know.  I know, I 
know, it's no big deal and all.  But next time, just tell me.  All 
right?" 
	 
"All right," said Blair as he disappeared into his room.  He emerged a 
moment later.  "But the same goes for you." 
	 
"It's a deal.  So what are you doing tonight?" 
	 
"Got a date, man.  Nine o'clock and if I'm late one more time she'll not 
only dump me, she'll tear my reputation to shreds just for the hell of 
it."  He looked at Jim's slightly disappointed look.  "But hey, I'm here 
for dinner.  Don't worry, if you want time to talk I can make the time." 
	 
Jim nodded and roused himself from the couch, going into the kitchen to 
begin unpacking Blair's groceries.  "I'm fine with this, Blair.  
Really." 
	 
"Well, okay," said Blair dubiously.  "Let me do that.  You don't need to 
be taking care of my stuff." 
	 
"I don't mind.  At least this way I get to organize the fridge the way I 
like it."  Blair snorted and shook his head.  "So this woman you're 
going out with tonight, do I know her?" 
	 
"Um, yeah." 
	 
Jim looked up in response to Blair's guilty tone.  "Oh it's not Samantha 
again, is it?"  Blair didn't answer.  "It is, isn't it.  You, my friend, 
are a masochist," said Jim disgustedly. 
	 
Blair shrugged.  "I like her.  What can I say?" 
	 
"She may be my friend," said Jim, "but I try to keep myself as far as I 
can from that woman's claws." 
	 
"Come on, Jim.  She's not *that* bad."  Jim looked at him dubiously, but 
decided he wasn't going to convince him no matter what he said.  	When 
Blair saw he wasn't going to answer, he went into his room.  A few 
moments later Jim heard him asking, "Shit, what am I going to wear?"	 
	 
"Depends on where you're going," answered Jim, remembering to raise his 
voice so that Blair could hear him.  "Is it somewhere nice?" 
	 
"*Every*where is somewhere nice to Sam." 
	 
Jim just shook his head and continued putting the groceries away.  
//Sometimes I'd really like to know what goes on in that boy's head.// 
 
******************** 
 
"Hi, Jeanne," said Jim, handing her a rose, "Are you ready to go?" 
 
"Sure," she said, and Jim tried to hide his wince as her high-pitched 
voice reverborated in his ears.  "Got my purse, got my make-up, got my 
mints.  Yep, ready to go?"  She smiled brightly at him. 
 
"Great," said Jim, shaking his had sadly once she'd turned her back. 
 
******************** 
	 
Jim watched Blair make his way through the bullpen and waited until he 
was within what he estimated was normal hearing distance before 
speaking.  "You're late." 
	 
"Sorry."  Blair flushed a little.  "Mary wanted to say good-bye 
properly."  Jim gave him a disapproving look.  "Hey!  When she asked, I 
didn't know quite what she meant by 'properly'." 
	 
Anderson laughed.  "When women say proper they *mean* proper." 
	 
"Yeah, man," said Blair ruefully, "I'm beginning to figure that out."   
 
"Which reminds me, Ellison, when are you going to find yourself a date 
for the annual Policeman's Ball?" 
 
Blair turned to his partner.  "I didn't know you were having trouble 
finding a date, Jim." 
 
Anderson laughed and shook his head.  "No, it's not that."  Grabbing 
Blair by the sleeve he hauled him into a seat.   
 
"You don't need to be telling him this, Craig." 
 
"Oh yes I do!  You see, Blair, 6 years running Jim has never come to the 
ball with the same date twice." 
 
"Not even Carolyn?" 
 
"Nope, and each year he somehow manages to top the last.  So we're all 
waiting to see what he comes up with this year."  Anderson looked up at 
Jim with a wicked smile on his face.  Jim just shook his head and 
groaned. 
 
"This true, Jim?" 
 
"If he says it's true then it must be true," Jim replied with a shrug, 
turning back to his desk and ignoring them. 
 
"So, uh, Jim, what's on the agenda for this afternoon?" 
	 
Jim looked pointedly at Anderson, who took the hint and made himself 
scarce with one last grin aimed in Jim's direction.  "Simon wanted a 
little help on that string of robberies.  He thinks maybe if we go 
through the evidence, we'll pick up something that forensics didn't." 
	 
"You probably will," said Blair confidently.  "Forensics has nothing on 
you, man.  How soon can we go down?" 
	 
"As soon as Simon gets back from lunch as gives us the key card.  Did 
you get a chance to eat anything?" 
	 
"Yeah, Mary bought me lunch," said Blair absently, leafing through the 
files on Jim's desk. 
	 
"Well, I hope you don't mind if I eat in front of you, then," said Jim 
unwrapping a sandwich, "I haven't had a chance to stop for a break.  Got 
any plans for tonight?" 
	 
"Yeah," said Blair, "I'm taking Mary out to dinner and maybe out to a 
club afterwards.  Why?" 
	 
"No reason.  I just got tickets to the Jags game tonight; I thought you 
might want to go with me." 
	 
Blair looked crestfallen.  "Tonight?  Oh, man, any other night and I 
would have jumped at the chance, but there's no way I can cancel 
tonight.  I have reservations and everything." 
	 
"Reservations?  Wow, you must really like this one." 
	 
Blair shrugged.  "Maybe." 
	 
//Well, anyone's better than Sam.  Thank God he finally had the sense to 
dump her after that date last week.//  "Well, have a good time, then.  
Maybe I'll ask Simon to go with me."	 
	 
"I really am sorry.  I do wish I could go." 
	 
"Me, too, Chief.  Maybe next time."  Jim finished off the first half of 
his sandwich and licked the mayonnaise off his thumb.  "Taggert says he 
might have another pair next Wednesday that he won't be able to use." 
	 
"That would be great," said Blair enthusiastically.  "We can make a 
night of it ... hey, Simon!  Come on, Jim, let's get going."  Jim marked 
a red star on Wednesday on his desk calendar, then followed his partner 
into Simon's office. 
 
******************** 
 
"So what do you think of the Jags this season?" said Jim, putting his 
arm around Karen's shoulders. 
 
"Sports?  Me?  You *must* be kidding."  Karen made a jokingly disgusted 
face.  "Give me a good concert any day.  Speaking of which, you *did* 
manage to get symphony tickets, didn't you?" 
 
"Yeah," sighed Jim, "I got the tickets." 
 
********************	 
 
"Oh, man, these are *great* seats!" enthused Blair, arranging his drink 
and backpack and jacket so that he could sit down comfortably.  "How did 
Joel ever manage to get them?" 
	 
"I didn't ask."  Jim held Blair's drink as he kept shifting.  Finally he 
dropped his backpack to the floor and took his drink from Jim's waiting 
hand.  "He's been getting 'em for years now, though." 
	 
"Man, I wish I could've taken Meg to this.  She *loves* basketball." 
	 
"Meg?" 
	 
"Yeah.  That redhead I told you about last night?"	 
	 
"I get your redheads mixed up, Chief," he said.  "Too bad you're stuck 
with me, though." 
	 
"Oh, I wouldn't call it stuck," said Blair, smiling at him.  Jim moved 
away uncomfortably, and Blair's smile faded quickly.  "But I guess *you* 
would." 
	 
Jim shook off the nerves and smiled reassuringly at him.  "Would I have 
invited you if I hadn't wanted you here?  Give me a sip of that Coke, 
would you?" 
	 
"Yeah, sure."  Blair's voice still wasn't as confident as Jim was used 
to.  //Damn, I spooked him.  I've gotta learn to relax about this.  No 
big deal.//  Jim took the drink and held it to his lips for a long 
moment before drinking, studying Blair while the chance presented 
itself.  Blair was still shifting in his seat a little, even though all 
his things had been settled around him, and his eyes were fixed on the 
court. 
	 
Jim handed the drink back. "You know, if you aren't all booked up, we 
could make a regular thing of this." 
	 
"We could?"  Blair turned toward him, startled, and Jim didn't know 
whether he was surprised that Jim still wanted him around, or surprised 
that he could get the tickets.  "Doesn't Joel *ever* go to the games?" 
	 
Jim laughed.  "His wife made him promise to give up at least one set of 
tickets a week...seems he wasn't spending as much quality time with the 
missus as she wanted him too." 
	 
Blair relaxed and grinned ruefully.  "Oh, been *there*," he said, "been 
there *way* too many times." 
	 
"And you're the one who's never been married," added Jim. 
	 
"How do you know that?" 
	 
"What?" 
	 
"How do you know I've never been married?" 
	 
Jim gaped at him.  "Are you telling me you've been *married*, Chief?" 
	 
"No, I'm not.  What I am saying is that you don't *know* that."  Blair 
stifled laughter at Jim's stricken expression.  "Man, *relax* would you?  
I've never been married; I'm just trying to make a point.  You've always 
had all these ideas about me, even since we met.  Lighten up and just go 
with it!" 
	 
Jim shook his head in confusion.  //Where the hell is *this* coming 
from?//  "Blair?" 
	 
Blair sighed dramatically.  "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't make 
assumptions about me.  That's *all*."  He punched Jim on the arm 
playfully.  "Now relax and enjoy the game." 
	 
"Yeah, sure." It was a few minutes until a smile found it's way back 
onto Jim Ellison's face, and another few before he was able to direct 
that smile Blair's way again.  //What is it about him that sets me so 
off-balance?// 
	 
"Jim?  Are you even *watching*?"  Blair's voice cut through his 
thoughts, and he focused back on the game that had just started. 
	 
"Yeah, yeah, of course.  Can I have some more of that drink?" 
	 
Blair passed it over without a word.  As Jim took another sip he 
realized he was tasting something besides the Coke.  Thinking about it 
for a moment, he realized that what he was tasting was the residue that 
Blair's lips left on the straw.  And that it wasn't an unpleasant taste 
at all.  Taking another sip, he passed it back again. 
	 
"So how's it going with--what's her name?--Meg?" 
	 
"It's going good," he replied right away, then seemed to realize that it 
was more than just a polite question.  "She's really nice, got a great 
sense of humour, loves to dance..." 
 
"Mmm, sounds nice.  Say, did I tell you I got a letter from Carolyn 
today?" 
 
"You did?" 
 
"Yeah, you talking about Meg kinda reminded me.  It's funny, but now 
that she isn't living around here anymore, we get along a lot better 
than we ever did.  It's like...it's like now that she doesn't have any 
stake in me, whatever I do is okay.  You know?" 
 
"It's interesting you should mention that now, Jim, 'cause I was just 
studying up on this tribe in Brazil and when a family structure breaks 
up there, the man is banished from the village.  Now when I first heard 
about it I thought it was some kind of punishment, but really--" 
	 
"Does this Meg always listen when you start going on like this?" 
interrupted Jim with a smirk to show he was teasing. 
 
"Every time, man," said Blair, laughing.  "Doesn't she sound great?" 
	 
"I don't really know her," said Jim. 
	 
"Well then, I ought to introduce you," said Blair decisively.  "You'd 
like her, Jim." 
	 
"You always say that." 
	 
"Wait a second, I *never* thought you'd like Sam.  I didn't even *tell* 
you about Sam." 
	 
"I *do* like Sam.  Just not as a romantic partner." 
	 
"You know, we're starting to have a really bad track record here."  
Blair didn't sound disappointed, just amused.  "Guess we'll just have to 
see, won't we." 
 
******************** 
 
"We'll need a meal and a blanket and some music and some wine and you'll 
need to dress nice and then we'll need some good walking shoes and some 
water and a towel and some bug spray.  You can get all that, can't you?" 
 
"By tomorrow?  Yeah, I guess."  He waited until he had turned away from 
Jenifer before closing his eyes and grimacing. 
 
******************** 
	 
Jim looked up at Blair from his seat on the couch.  "Going out again 
tonight?"  He folder the newspaper carefully and lay it on the coffee 
table. 
	 
"Yeah, and I'm running late.  Have you seen my black shoes?" 
	 
"Try your closet."	 
	 
"I've been *in* my closet for the last fifteen minutes.  They are not 
there, man."  He glanced at the wall clock.  "Shit, I am *so* late." 
	 
"I thought Meg wasn't a stickler about punctuality?" 
	 
"I'm not going out with Meg anymore, and this is definitely *not* a good 
start for a first date.  Are you sure you haven't seen them?" 
	 
"Sorry, Chief, can't help you." 
	 
"Damn!  Can you tell if there's a car idling downstairs?  Wait, it 
doesn't really matter, it won't make me go any faster.  Can I wear brown 
with this?  Oh, look who I'm asking.  Never mind." 
	 
Jim looked him up and down.  "Only if it's dark enough," he said mildly, 
ignoring the insult.  "Try those lace up leather ones of yours; they 
should do fine." 
	 
"Yeah!" said Blair, "Thanks, Jim."  He raced back into his room just as 
there was a knock at the door.  Jim waited a moment for Blair to answer 
it, and when he realized the other man hadn't heard he got up himself 
and opened the door. 
	 
"Yes?" he asked the young man on the other side.  //Salesman?  Surveyer?  
Jehovah's Witness?// 
	 
"Um, hi.  I'm looking for Blair Sandburg.  Have I got the right place?" 
	 
Jim leaned back into the apartment, and called out.  "Blair!  Door!"  
Then, all at once, he realized just why the young man was at the door.  
The middle height, sandy-haired man looking adorably intellectual with 
his round glasses perched on his nose. Quickly composing himself, he 
turned back and smiled.  "Come on in," he said.  "Blair's almost ready.  
Do you want anything to drink?" 
	 
"Um, no," he said nervously.  "I, uh, thought Blair lived alone." 
	 
"Blair's my roommate," said Jim instantly.  "We do some work together." 
	 
The other man looked instantly relieved.  "Oh, okay.  That makes more 
sense.  Blair just never mentioned you, that's all." 
	 
//Gee, thanks, Sandburg.//  "What did you say your name was?" 
	 
"Oh, sorry.  Blake.  Blake Robertson."  He held out his hand, which Jim 
awkwardly shook. 
	 
//What do you think I am, his father or something?  Blake and Blair--
that's just way too cute.//  "So where did you and Blair meet?" 
	 
"We--" 
	 
Just then Blair peeked out of his room, holding the pair of brown 
leather shoes in his hand.  "What was that, Jim?"  He stilled as he saw 
Jim wasn't alone.  "Blake!  What are you--?  Um, Jim, have you two met?" 
	 
"Yes, Blake introduced himself to me.  Are you ready to go?" 
	 
Blair nodded and pulled his shoes on, still looking more than a little 
nervous.  "Yeah."  Then he smiled at Blake.  "You remembered the 
tickets, right?" 
	 
Blake patted the front pocket of his shirt.  "Yep," he said.  "And if we 
don't head off right away we're going to be late.  It was, uh, nice 
meeting you, Jim." 
	 
"Yeah, you too," said Jim. 
	 
"Um, Jim..." began Blair. 
	 
"We'll talk later, Sandburg," said Jim, softening his words with half a 
smile.  "Have a good time." 
	 
As they left the apartment, Jim saw them link hands before the door 
closed.  Sighing, he went back into the living room and opened his 
newspaper once again. 
 
----	 
It was two o'clock in the morning when Blair tried to sneak back in.  
Jim heard the noise at the door and woke from his light sleep to see who 
it was.  Somehow he already knew it was Blair, something about the 
cadence of his walk or the rhythm of his breathing had imprinted itself 
on Jim's subconscious and he could recognize them anywhere.  He snorted 
involuntarily, amused at Blair's attempts to be silent.  "I'm awake, you 
know," he said once Blair was through the door. 
	 
Blair jumped and then turned toward the living room.  "Jeez, Jim, you 
almost gave me a heart attack there.  What are you doing in here so 
late?" 
	 
"I was watching TV, I fell asleep in here."  //That was lame.  He knows 
as well as I do that I can't fall asleep if something is still on.  And 
besides, the TV is already off.//  He looked at the silent box guiltily.  
"Guess I must've turned it off before I fell asleep."  Blair gave Jim 
his most skeptical look.  "You think I was waiting up for you?" 
	 
"Weren't you?" 
	 
"Why would I do that?" 
	 
"I don't know, you tell me."  	 
	 
Blair was quickly going from surprised and bemused to suspicious and 
angry.  Jim knew he needed to diffuse the situation as soon as possible.  
"I *was* waiting for you to get home so we could talk," he admitted.  
"But I didn't mean to fall asleep here.  And I didn't expect you to be 
home so late."  He stood up and stretched.  "I guess I'll go upstairs.  
Good night." 
	 
"Jim?" 
	 
"Yeah?" 
	 
"Um, aren't you going to ask about my date?" 
	 
Jim thought about it, and then shook his head.  "Not right now.  I'm not 
sure I'm in any mood to hear about your dream man." 
	 
He made a motion to head for the stairs to his bedroom, but Blair 
grabbed his arm.  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 
	 
"Nothing.  I'm glad you made it home all right.  Can we talk in the 
morning?  I'm tired and you ought to be too." 
	 
"All right," said Blair grudgingly.  "Get some sleep.  Maybe it'll put 
you in a better mood, man." 
	 
//Not likely.//  Jim took the stairs two at a time and wished, not for 
the first time, that he had a door to close.  Not that he needed one, 
but it would have felt better than just leaving himself open like this.  
As soon as he heard Blair go into the bathroom he stripped off his 
clothes and crawled into the bad.  Half of him wished that Blair had 
pushed him harder to talk, and the other half was grateful that he 
didn't have to look any more closely at his reasons for waiting up.  
Before Blair had even left the bathroom, Jim was asleep. 
 
******************** 
	 
Jim could hear Blair tossing and turning in his bed and realized that 
neither one of them was going to get any more sleep.  Glancing at the 
clock, he saw it was just after six.  //God, less than four hours of 
sleep.  Good thing neither one of us has to work today.// Getting out of 
bed, he pulled on a pair of cutoff jeans before heading downstairs. 
	 
Quietly he padded to Blair's door.  "You up, Chief," he asked softly, 
opening the door a crack.  Blair was tangled up in his sheets, his 
blankets kicked off and his arms wrapped around a pillow.  He moaned.  
"You up?" 
	 
"You know I am," he mumbled, pushing himself up from the bed and rubbing 
his eyes.  "What time is it?" 
	 
"Six." 
	 
"Six?  Oh, man, *what* are we doing up at six in the morning?"  He met 
Jim's eyes and immediately the question became rhetorical.  He nodded 
and got up out of the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before 
following Jim into the kitchen. 
	 
"You hungry?" asked Jim, starting the coffeemaker.	 
	 
"Not really," said Blair.  "Could use a cup of tea, though."  Jim put 
the kettle on the stove without a word and leaned against the counter.  
"You doing okay?" asked Blair.  Jim nodded.  "All right, go ahead, Jim.  
We both know something's on your mind.  Why don't you just come out with 
it?" 
	 
"Um, how was your date?" 
	 
"It was good," he replied.  "We had a good time." 
	 
"Oh yeah.  So, um, you know..." 
	 
"Jim, come on man, it's not like we're two aliens who went out and 
performed some bizarre moon ritual sacrificing a couple of innocent co-
eds or something.  We went to a play and then we went to a club 
afterwards.  It was just a nice, normal first date." 
	 
"So you guys didn't...?" 
	 
"Didn't what, Jim?  Eat?  Sneeze?  Wear studded leather?  Fuck?  What?"  
Jim looked more than mildly embarrassed and Blair decided to let him off 
the hook.  "If you're asking if I slept with him, the answer is no.  I 
did not sleep with him.  And I don't have any *intention* of sleeping 
with him anytime soon." 
	 
Jim looked relieved.  "I just can't imagine..."  //No...the problem is I 
*can* imagine.// 
	 
Blair laughed.  "Well, good!  I don't *want* you imagining that stuff, 
man!  This is *me* we're talking about." 
	 
"Yeah...that's the part I'm having trouble forgetting." 
	 
Blair stared at him.  "Jim, what's this all about?  I know you're not 
comfortable and I'm sorry.  But..." 
	 
"I guess I just don't...understand.  You know?  I mean--what do you do 
together?" 
	 
Blair shook his head wearily.  "I already told you that.  Just...stuff.  
Dates.  We go out and have fun.  It's not any different than anyone 
else, Jim.  I know, I know, it seems like it is.  Trust me, I've heard 
*that* one before.  But it's not." 
	 
"Did you...?" 
	 
"Jim!  How detailed do you expect me to get here?  Did we kiss?  Yes.  
Did we make out?  A little.  Did we dance, drink, eat, laugh?  
Constantly.  What else can I tell you?" 
	 
They were interrupted by the whistle of the kettle, startling both of 
them.  Jim turned and poured Blair's tea while Blair wandered over to 
the dining room table and sat down.  After grabbing his own cup of 
coffee, Jim set Blair's tea in front of him and joined him at the table.  
"You don't need to tell me anything else, Blair.  I'm sorry I asked 
anything in the first place." 
	 
"No, no," said Blair.  "I shouldn't react like this.  I want you to 
understand.  Wouldn't do me any good to have you freaking and kicking me 
out or anything."  He managed a half-hearted smile, which Jim returned. 
	 
"I wouldn't kick you out.  Even if you *were* an alien out performing 
bizarre moon rituals.  Hell, for all I know you do that already.  Where 
*were* you last Tuesday?" 
	 
Blair laughed.  "I'll never tell!"  He relaxed and took a sip of his 
tea.  "Is that...everything?" 
	 
"Yeah, I guess.  For now, anyway.  Just be patient with me, would you?  
I'm trying here." 
	 
"I know you are, man."  Blair stood up from the table suddenly and Jim 
looked at him, alarmed.  "Hey, I'm just going to get dressed.  Why don't 
we go watch little morning TV, maybe catch a movie this afternoon?  How 
does that sound?" 
	 
"Sounds like a day off," said Jim.  "Can we pick a smaller theatre this 
time?  Less people?  Last time we went I had a headache for days 
afterward." 
	 
"Yeah, sorry about that," offered Blair.  "I think I can pick out 
something."  Jim watched him walk into the bedroom.  Watching TV, 
hanging out together, going to a movie.  Hell, it was almost like 
Sandburg was dating *him*.  Shying away from that uncomfortable thought, 
he stood up and brought their drinks into the living room, digging the 
remote out of the couch cushions and turning the television on. 
	 
"Sandburg," he called out so that Blair could hear him from his bedroom.  
"You're cleaning this mess up today!" 
	 
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," muttered Blair under his breath. 
	 
"I heard that!"  Blair's laughter this time would have been audible to 
anyone with even normal hearing.  "Anything that's left in here after 
lunch, I get to dispose of myself." 
	 
Blair peeked out of his room.  "Make it 8 pm and you've got a deal." 
	 
Jim pretended to think about it.  "All right, 8 pm.  But not a minute 
later."  He relaxed into the couch cushions and tried not to think about 
anything at all.  It didn't hurt that the phone rang. 
 
"Hello?" 
 
"Hey Jim," came Stephen's voice on the other end of the line.  "How are 
you doing?" 
	 
"Oh!  I'm fine, how about you?" 
	 
"Not too bad.  Listen, what are you up to today?" 
 
"Not too much, why do you ask? 
	 
"Well, I managed to wrangle a couple of tickets to the game this 
afternoon.  I thought maybe we could try the brotherly bonding thing 
again.  What do you say?" 
	 
Jim looked towards Blair's door, where he had popped back inside to 
finish dressing.  "Today?" 
 
"Yeah, is that a problem?" 
 
"Well, today Blair and I were kinda going to have a day to ourselves.  
You know, hang out, watch some TV, talk." 
 
"You sure?" 
 
"Yeah, I think I'm going to have to pass this time.  Not that I don't 
want to go," he added quickly.  "It's just a bad day." 
 
"Well, what about tomorrow.  Want to get together for dinner?" 
 
"Dinner?  Yeah, sounds good.  I'd like that." 
 
"Well, I guess I'd better let you go then...how about I give you a call 
after lunch.  You know, finalize everything." 
 
Jim smiled to himself.  "What, that'll give you enough time to make 
reservations, book a limo, and write it off as a tax deduction?" 
 
He could almost hear his brother blushing on the other end of the line.  
"Something like that.  Tomorrow then?" 
 
"Tomorrow, confirmed Jim.  "I'll see you then."  Hanging up the phone, 
he watched Blair's door until he came out again.  They didn't have a lot 
of time to do things anymore, and he valued the time they *did* manage 
to spend together.  Everything that had been bothering him before had 
slipped from his mind, and he could only anticipate the day ahead. 
 
******************** 
 
"Jim, are you listening to me?" 
 
"Of course I am, Carrie."  He turned to her and smiled blandly.  She 
didn't seem to notice. 
 
"Well, it doesn't matter to me what we do this weekend.  Whatever you 
want to do, I want to do."  She turned her vapid smile on him.  Jim 
didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes. 
 
******************** 
 
It was another week before Blair even brought Blake up again.  Jim knew 
that they had gone out almost every night, but Blake had never come up 
to the apartment and Blair hadn't said anything about it.  Jim was 
grateful for that, but knew that it wasn't fair to Blair to make him 
live like this.  Blair thought Jim was upset at finding out his roommate 
was bisexual, but he was wrong. 
	 
"Listen, Jim," said Blair, lounging on the couch with a journal in his 
hands.  "I've been thinking." 
	 
"About rain forest rituals?"  asked Jim, finishing setting the table. 
	 
Blair frowned, then looked at the front cover of the journal and got the 
reference.  "I was thinking about Blake and me actually."  Jim stiffened 
at the name, then willed himself to relax. 
	 
"Getting serious, huh," he found himself saying, almost resigned to the 
fact. 
	 
"Um, yeah," said Blair.  He shifted uncomfortably and set the journal 
down on the floor next to him.  "You okay with that?" 
	 
"Does it matter?" 
	 
"It does to me." 
	 
Jim rubbed the back of his head with one hand and leaned on the table 
with the other.  "Yeah, I'm okay with that," he said finally.  "What do 
you mean by 'serious'?" 
	 
"Well, you know that ball that everyone's going all ape over?" 
	 
"Yeah..." 
	 
"I was thinking about taking Blake with me.  As my date." 
	 
Jim nodded slowly.  "You're sure about that?" 
	 
"You think it's a bad idea?" 
	 
"I don't think it's a *bad* idea, Chief.  As a matter of fact, I think 
it's very brave.  You know you're going to get a lot of, well, ..." 
	 
"Shit, Jim.  I'm going to get a lot of shit.  Yeah, I know that, how 
could I not?"  He looked over the back of the couch and gave Jim a 
lopsided grin.  "But sometimes these things are worth it." 
	 
"Yeah, I guess they are.  Well, it's not like you need my permission or 
anything." 
	 
"No...but I wouldn't mind your blessing, man.  You have to work with 
me..." 
	 
"You want my blessing?  You got it."  He rubbed the back of his neck 
with a hand and stood up.  "And I'll stand behind you whatever happens." 
	 
"Thank you, Jim.  That means a lot." 
	 
//I guess it does.//  Jim toyed with a fork at one of the placesettings, 
pushing down on the tines so that it rocked back and forth.  //What 
would it be like if it were me you wanted to show off to the Cascade 
police department?//  It was all too easy to picture Blair and his 
boyfriend together...and it still made him more than a little 
uncomfortable.  But it wasn't because Blair was with a man, not anymore.  
 
********************	 
 
"And my *sister*'s name is Andrea.  Get it?  Sandy and Andy?  No?  Well, 
my *parents* thought it was cute at the time seeing as we were twins.  
Well, anyway, my sister and I were in this store sometimes and seeing as 
how we were twins and all they kept on trying to put us in the *same* 
clothes and the *same* shoes and we just *hate* that you know, cause 
just because we're twins doesn't mean we're the *same* you know?  I 
mean, she's all outgoing and talkative and I'm the shy one.  I mean if 
you *saw* us together, you'd *totally* know the difference.  You got any 
more Pepsi?" 
 
"Uh, Sandy, I need to go home early.  I think I left my oven on..." 
 
******************** 
	 
"Hey, Jim, you gonna come for drinks with us after work?" called Brown 
from the other side of the bullpen. 
	 
"Yeah, sure," he called back.  "Blair?" 
	 
Blair shook his head.  "I've got a date tonight," he said.  "Maybe next 
time?" 
	 
"Sure, next time," said Jim to him quietly. 
	 
Brown laughed loudly.  "Another date?  Who is it this time?  Dragon Lady 
again?" 
	 
Blair made a face, and Brown laughed even harder.  "I am *so* over her," 
he said, carefully avoiding mentioning the name of his actual date.  "If 
I ever do anything that stupid again, just tie me up somewhere and don't 
let me go until I come to my senses, okay?" 
	 
"Yeah, yeah, we've all heard that one before, Sandburg."  Jim gave him a 
hard pat on the shoulder as he crossed the room to Brown's desk.  "So 
where are we headed?" 
	 
"Oh, I don't know.  We'll figure it out on the way.  You need a ride?" 
	 
"I got the truck," said Jim.	 
	 
"Ummmm, about the truck, Jim..." 
	 
"What did you do to my truck, Sandburg?!" 
	 
"Nothing!"  Blair threw up his hands in mock surrender.  "I was just 
hoping...since my car's in the shop again..." 
	 
Jim rolled his eyes.  "You want to borrow it?" 
	 
"Whoa," said Brown.  "You crazy, man?" 
	 
"You want to borrow *my* truck to cart around your date?" 
	 
"Uh...yeah..." said Blair, his voice becoming lower and lower. 
	 
Jim thought about it...much to the shock of everyone present.  "If there 
is so much as a single scratch on it when you get back..." he said 
finally. 
	 
"Thanks!"  Blair wrapped his arms around Jim in an impromptu hug and 
then headed for the door. 
	 
"You aren't going to get far without the keys, Sandburg," teased Brown. 
	 
"Already got a set," said Blair casually.  "Thanks again, Jim." 
	 
"I mean it about the scratches--a single mark and your ass is mine!" 
	 
Brown waited until Blair was safely in the elevator before saying 
anything.  "You gave him a set of keys to your truck?" 
	 
"You know," explained Jim, "in case I lose mine, or there's an 
emergency, or whatever.  Looks like I'll be needing that ride after all.  
That's okay?" 
	 
"I offered didn't I?"  Brown grabbed his coat off the hook.  "Let's get 
outta here.  I've seen enough of this place for today." 
	 
Jim put his own jacket on and follow him into the just-returned 
elevator.  Taggert and Van Haute followed right behind them.  "You know, 
I think you give the kid a little too much freedom," said Joel.  "You 
oughta crack down on him, set some ground rules..." 
	 
Jim laughed out loud.  "You must be the only person Blair hasn't 
complained to about my house rules," he explained.  "But it was self-
preservation!  *Some*one had to house train him." 
	 
Joel grinned and shook his head.  "Sure, sure, so you say." 
	 
"Hey, go easy on him, guys," said Jim, even though he knew the teasing 
was good-natured and that they would have said the exact same things to 
Blair's face. 
	 
"This *is* easy!" said Ryf with a wicked smile.  "You should hear us 
when we're hard on him." 
	 
Jim just shook his head and waited for the elevator to hit the ground 
floor. 
	 
******************** 
	 
"Don't you think you've had enough?" 
	 
Jim looked at his half-empty glass and dizzily shook his head.  "Nope," 
he replied, not noticing the slur in his word. 
	 
Brown nodded and downed the rest of his own drink.  "Me neither.  
Where'd everyone go?" 
	 
Jim looked around.  "Left," he said, shrugging.  "Left without us." 
	 
"Maybe they went to get more to drink?" 
	 
"Don' need it.  We're in a bar, Ray." 
	 
"Oh, yeah."  He picked up the bottle that sat between them and poured 
himself another drink, downing it instantly.  "You know, love sucks." 
	 
"What?" 
	 
"Love sucks.  My woman, you know, Elise?  She's carrying on with 
Callahan from internal affairs.  Didja know that?" 
	 
"No."  Jim finished off his own drink, but didn't refill it.  "How'd ya 
find out?" 
	 
"Saw it.  Never said nothing to her yet." 
	 
"How come?" 
	 
"Dunno."  Brown shrugged.  "Don't know how.  She's got someone else, 
she'll leave on her own." 
	 
"Yeah, that's what they do." 
	 
"You lose someone like that?  Oh, Carolyn.  Who'd *she* screw around 
with?" 
	 
"Not Carolyn.  Blair." 
	 
The moment the word was out of Jim's mouth they both stilled for a 
moment.  The effect of the alcohol drained from his body as he realized 
what he said.  And what it meant. 
	 
"Wait...wait..." 
	 
"Blair?"  said Brown into his empty glass.  "You love Blair?" 
	 
"I..."  //Blair?  I love Blair?//  "Yeah, I guess I do.  But he doesn't 
know and now he's with someone else."  Jim pressed his forehead against 
the bar for a moment then raised it again.  "Pass me that bottle, would 
you?" 
 
"Blair," repeated Brown dazedly.  He took a long swig from the bottle 
before dangling it in Jim's direction.  "Blair's a man.  Isn't he?" 
 
Jim glanced at Brown sideways, shaking his head but stopping quickly 
when the room began to spin.  "Yeah.  Blair's a man.  Whaddaya know."  
The bottle didn't leave Jim's hand, even when Brown made a grab for it.  
"Who woulda thought?" 
 
"So anyway...what do I do about...uh...about Elise.  Elise and that 
Callahan?" 
 
"Damned if I know," said Jim.  "Damned if I know." 
 
******************** 
 
Jim stumbled over the last step and literally fell into his bed.   
Groaning aloud, he tried to make his legs follow the rest of his body 
onto the mattress.  It didn't work on the first try.  Or the second.  
Finally he just gave up and, grabbing a pillow on his way down, slumped 
to the floor. 
 
It was only after ten minutes of loud groaning, tossing and turning that 
Blair made his way up the stairs to find out what was going on.  The 
sight of Jim sprawled on the floor threatened to bring on whoops of 
laughter.  Those he quickly silenced.  "Jim, man, is everything okay?" 
 
"Hurts." 
 
"What was that?" 
 
"The floor...hurts.  Like it's all full of bumps...and...they're poking 
me." 
 
"Why don't you get into bed?" 
 
"Can't." 
 
Blair sighed.  "All right, first thing we've got to do is get you into 
bed.  I'm gonna pull you up, Jim.  All you've got to do is relax into my 
arms.  Can you do that?" 
 
"Yup." 
 
"All right.  One...two...three... Up, Jim, up."  Blair managed to haul 
Jim onto the bed and collapsed next to him for a moment, panting.  "God 
you're heavy," he complained, sitting up and dangling his legs off the 
side of the bed. 
 
"Nuh uh."  Jim snuggled into his pillows and closed his eyes.  "Come 
back." 
 
"Jim, how much did you have to drink?" 
 
"Dunno." 
 
"Are the blankets really soft, Jim?" 
 
"Uh huh," mumbled Jim contentedly. 
 
"No, Jim, are they *really* soft?  Kinda like the floor was really 
bumpy?" 
 
"Dunno." 
 
Blair shook his head.  Jim wasn't going to be able to answer *anything* 
until morning.  Pulling a blanket up to cover him, he quietly made his 
way back down the stairs.  Before he even reached the bottom of the 
stairs he could hear Jim's snores begin.  Thanking all the gods he could 
think of that he wasn't the one with Sentinel hearing, he slipped into 
his room and shut the door. 
 
******************** 
 
"Shut up!" called Jim down the stairs, half yelling and half moaning.  
He put a pillow over his head, but he could still hear Blair tapping 
away at his keyboard. 
 
"Sorry," said Blair, but the sounds didn't diminish. 
 
After a few more minutes of that, Jim gave up.  "What time is it?"  he 
called down. 
 
"Look at your clock," was Blair's reply. 
 
"Don't wanna open my eyes!"  He could hear Blair's low chuckle, and 
heard his footsteps from the kitchen to the living room thunder in his 
ears.   
 
"It's just past noon." 
 
Jim groaned and put the pillow back over his head.  "Wake me up when 
it's tomorrow."  Rather than hearing Blair go back into the kitchen, he 
heard him start up the stairs to the loft.  "Blair?"  he said nervously, 
warningly.  "Blair, what are you doing?" 
 
"Time to get up, man," said Blair loudly, standing next to the bed.  
"Come on.  I've got coffee and lunch for you downstairs." 
 
"God, no.  No food." 
 
"Yes, get up.  We've got to talk about last night." 
 
Jim paled.  "What about last night?" 
 
"I don't know if you remember, Jim, but I think your senses were right 
off the scale.  How much *did* you have to drink, man?" 
 
Jim shook his head, then groaned as it began to throb.  "I don't 
remember.  Too much." 
 
Blair laughed, and Jim winced at the sound.  "I guessed *that* much.  
How come?  Get dumped?" 
 
"Yeah something like that."  //Why the hell don't you know that I 
haven't gotten past a first date in months now?//  "Got any aspirin?" 
 
"I've got something better than that," said Blair with a big grin.  "I 
made it myself out of willow bark.  Come on downstairs and I'll give you 
some." 
 
"Is that in invitation or a threat?"  Still grumbling but no longer 
underestimating the tenacity of his roommate, Jim pulled himself out of 
the bed, still fully clothed, and stood up. 
 
"Take a shower, Jim," said Blair immediately, "*then* let's see what we 
can do for that headache." 
 
"Whatever you say, Chief." 
 
A few minutes later Jim stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped 
around his waist and another rubbing his hair.  "You sure there's no 
aspirin, Sandburg?" 
 
"Just drink this," said Blair, pressing a mug into his hand.  "And sit 
down.  We need to talk.  I mean A, why did you drink yourself into a 
stupor last night and *don't* give me that bullshit about being dumped, 
either.  And B, what was going on with your senses, man?  You were 
feeling *everything*." 
 
"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," said Jim, draping one towel over the back 
of a kitchen chair.  Rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand, he 
sat down and put his tea on the table.  "Isn't it a little early for an 
interrogation?" 
 
"It's after noon, Jim.  Be thankful I didn't wake you up at breakfast 
time.  Um, how are you feeling?" 
 
"Like I just got run over by a Mack truck.  What were you expecting?" 
 
"How about your senses?  Everything back to normal?" 
 
"Ask me again when every little noise stops hammering its way through my 
head, would you?" 
 
"Okay, dumb question.  But what I'm asking is, how did being drunk 
affect your senses?" 
 
"I don't think this is a, you know, scientific interrogation, Sandburg.  
How are you supposed to tell the effects of being drunk from the effects 
of stress from the effects of sleep deprivation?" 
 
"You just leave my job to me, man.  Now what was it like last night?" 
 
"Give it a rest, Sandburg.  I don't remember, all right?"  Standing up 
from the table, Jim stormed back upstairs to get dressed as Blair 
watched, his expression full of shock and confusion.  Jim wasn't too 
sure of his motivations either.  //Am I mad because of what Blair *is* 
asking me, or what he *isn't*?//  
 
******************** 
 
The whispers started as soon as Jim walked into the bullpen Monday 
afternoon.  At first he ignored them, but as soon as he figured out they 
might be about him, he started tuning in.  He did hear his name.  And 
Blair's.  But it was the word "fag" that stopped him dead in his tracks. 
 
His eyes flicked to the offender and then down to his desk again.  //All 
right, what the *hell* is going on here?//  His eyes quickly scanning 
the whole room, he saw a number of barely concealed stares.  //Something 
is *definitely* wrong.//  Staring down at his work, he focussed in on 
conversations again, this time picking up on Anderson and Shelby. 
 
"You mean they're really doing it?" 
 
"I swear that's what I heard." 
 
"Jim Ellison?  You're bullshitting me." 
 
"On my mother's grave, man.  They're doing it." 
 
"Oh my *god*." 
 
Wincing, Jim listened in to what his Captain was saying.   
 
"Keller, I want you to put a stop to these rumors and I want you to put 
a stop to them *now*.  I don't care what it takes, this has been going 
on all day.  And I *don't* care how they got started.  Now get out of 
here." 
 
That was a bit of a relief, but only a bit.  What the hell had happened, 
how did everyone find out about this?  And how twisted up was it all 
going to get by the time Blair came in to the station?  By the end of 
the day?  He could only sit and dread the possibilities. 
 
Blair was due at 3, as soon as his office hours were over and he had 
time to race across town to the station.  He'd been pretty punctual, 
too, lately, despite his active social life.  Jim wished he could fault 
him on that, maybe keep him from going out as much, but he couldn't.  At 
any rate, he didn't want Blair coming into the middle of this.  Glancing 
at the clock he saw it was already past 2.  He'd been sitting through 
over an hour of this and no one had had the guts to talk to him to his 
face. 
 
Hitting the speed dial for Blair's office, he got the answering machine.  
//Where the hell is he?//  A second call got the same results.  Jim sat 
back tensely at his desk and waited for what was going to come next. 
 
"Jim."  He looked up to see Craig Anderson standing at his desk.  "About 
you and Blair..." 
 
"Yes?"  Jim's face betrayed no hint that he knew what everyone had been 
talking about. 
 
"When the hell did you start sleeping with the kid?" 
 
Jim should have earned an Oscar for his performance.  Spitting his 
coffee back into his cup and choking slightly, he slammed it to the 
table and looked up at Anderson with an incredulous expression.  "When 
did I *what*?" 
 
The room seemed to still around them.  Suddenly Anderson looked unsure 
of himself.  "You know..." 
 
"No, I *don't* know.  Blair may be living in my apartment, but he's 
definitely *not* living in my bedroom.  You hear me?" 
 
"Yeah."  He didn't look convinced, but Jim couldn't expect that. 
"Whatever you say."  Before turning on his heel and leaving Jim alone, 
he gave him a speculative once over and shook his head.  "Whatever you 
say," he repeated.   
 
Jim rolled his eyes and looked down at his desk, seeking out something, 
*anything*, to make him look busy.  Meanwhile his insides were twisting.  
//How do they know?  How the hell do they know?//  The volume in the 
room rose again once Anderson had walked away, but Jim didn't need to 
listen in on any more conversations.  He already knew what was being 
said.  //He wouldn't have done this.  Ray is my friend, he wouldn't have 
done this.//  Any other day he could have believed that without 
question, but not today.  Not after this. 
 
Blair showed up two minutes shy of 2:30 and was stopped at the door of 
the bullpen.  Jim had been keeping an eye out for him just in case he'd 
left the office early, but he missed noticing him until he was already 
halfway through a conversation with McBride.  He jumped up in his seat, 
meaning to stop it in its tracks, but his mind was quick enough to 
inform him that doing so would probably do more harm than good *before* 
he barged in on the conversation. 
 
He waited until Blair came to him. 
 
"What's going on here, Jim, this is *crazy*.  Where do they *get* this 
stuff?  First that call at work and now *this*...one day I'm your kid 
partner and then suddenly we're having some kind of torrid love affair?  
Talk about your non sequitur."  Blair pulled a chair away from Bradley's 
desk and sit in front of Jim's.  "You okay with this?" 
	 
"Okay?  Yeah, I guess.  People will pick up on the...the absurdity of 
the whole thing soon enough."  He didn't look at Blair as he spoke.  
Couldn't. 
	 
Blair lowered his voice.  "All I can think is that someone saw me with 
Blake and, you know, jumped to conclusions.  Oh man, if this is because 
of that then I am *so* sorry, Jim...." 
	 
"Whatever this is, it's not your fault."  //Yeah, it's mine.// 
	 
Brown walked over to the them tentatively and spared Blair a very brief 
glance before leaning in close to Jim and speaking softly.  "Listen, 
Jim, I...I was talking to Ryf this morning and...oh shit, I never meant 
for this to happen.  *I* needed to talk to someone...and I knew I could 
trust him.  I guess someone heard... I'm *really* sorry, Jim." 
	 
"It's not your fault," Jim said wearily. 
	 
Ray didn't look convinced, but he did nod.  "I'll catch you later and I 
mean that."  Briefly looking at Blair again, almost guiltily, he turned 
and swiftly left the bullpen. 
	 
"Um, Jim?"  said Blair quietly, a thousand questions in his eyes.  For a 
moment Jim almost thought that Blair had heard the conversation, but 
quickly convinced himself that he couldn't have. 
 
"This is getting out of control," said Jim.  "Maybe you'd better head 
back to the loft...there's nothing going on today that can't be put off 
til another time." 
	 
"Excuse me, Jim, but *why* would I go back to the loft?  This is as much 
my problem as yours and I want to be here to deal with it.  All right?" 
 
"I think I'm going to be taking off myself, Chief.  Much as I hate to do 
it, I can't work like this.  I could get more done moving my desk to the 
middle of the freeway." 
 
"Now think about this, Jim.  How's it gonna look with both of us leaving 
together early like this?"  He shook his head.  "Nuh uh.  We'd both 
better stay right here." 
 
"I'm calling the shots on this one, Sandburg, and I say we leave." 
 
Blair sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.  "No." 
 
"What?" 
 
"No, Jim.  You are, like, *totally* freaked over this and you are *not* 
thinking straight.  How about you just pull out a file, one that will 
require you to *leave the station*, and run with it." 
 
Jim glared at him, and then his expression softened.  Blair was right.  
"I've got a witness to arson over on 17th I've been meaning to contact 
all week.  It's not urgent, but..." 
 
"That's perfect," said Blair.  His customary expression of easy good 
humor had crept back onto his face, to Jim's profound relief.  He 
couldn't miss the whispers around them, even if he couldn't hear them 
the way Jim could, but he wasn't letting them get to him.  "The rest of 
this we can talk about later, man." 
 
******************** 
 
It was with a weary sigh that Jim stepped into his own apartment.  Even 
away from the station the rumors had haunted him until his was almost 
too distracted to do his job.  That was when he'd finally convinced 
Blair that it was time to call it a day and they'd driven back to the 
loft. 
 
"I've been thinking," said Blair without preamble. 
 
"Again?" said Jim.  "You do that far too often, Sandburg." 
 
"Ha, ha, Jim."  He slipped off his shoes and sat down in front of the 
television, staring at the blank screen.  "No, really, that was pretty 
harsh today, what was going on at the station.  I mean for you.  And I 
was thinking that...you know how I was talking before?  About coming out 
to the station?  Well, I'm going to do it.  Once they see me with 
*Blake*, then they'll lay off you." 
 
//Yeah, either that or they'll think we're in some sort of twisted love 
triangle.//  "Blair, you don't have to..." 
 
"I know that.  But I want to...I'm ready.  Don't give me that look--I 
*have* thought this through.  I've been thinking about it since before I 
even told *you* I was thinking about it.  And after today, well, I'm 
sure.  Okay?" 
 
"Can we talk about this?" 
 
"Um, yeah, sure.  What's on your mind?" 
 
"I don't want you to think that I need you to do this is all.  I can 
handle the guys at the station.  Hell, even after you tell them, they're 
going to be wondering.  You aren't exactly known for fidelity, Chief." 
 
Blair made a face.  "Yeah, I know.  Even though I've never cheated on 
anyone in my life." 
 
"Really?" 
 
"Yeah, really.  Come on, man, what do you take me for?  Wait, no, don't 
answer that.  I'm too selfish to do this just for you," he said with a 
self-deprecating grin.  "I want to get this out there so that I don't 
have to sneak around anymore." 
 
"You call going out together to all this stuff 'being discreet'?" 
 
"Well, yeah.  It's not like we take long walks in the park together 
holding hands or anything.  Hell, I'm in the park with *you* more often 
than anyone else.  And I want to be able to do that without being afraid 
that someone's gonna see me." 
 
"I think I understand." 
 
"Well, thank you," said Blair. 
 
"You go ahead and do whatever you need to do.  I've told you before, 
Blair, I'll back you on anything that's this important to you."  Blair 
just smiled at Jim, conveying better without words the amount of thanks 
and respect he was giving Jim at that moment.  "So you're gonna do it at 
the ball?" 
 
"Yeah.  Hey, what better place?  You'll all be there, right?" 
 
"Ain't that the truth." 
 
"What about you?  You found your date yet?" 
 
"Nah," said Jim off-handedly, shaking his head.  "I had someone in mind, 
but it looks like they're already going to be busy that night." 
 
"That's too bad, man.  Better luck next time."  Flipping his legs off 
the coffeetable, Blair sat up straighter.  "Is it my turn to cook dinner 
again?" 
 
"Yep.  And no weird sauces this time.  I *still* haven't figured out 
what you put in that last one." 
 
Blair laughed as he stood up.  "I hear you," he said.  "Sure thing." 
 
******************** 
	 
//Great, so what do I do now.  Against all sanity, I go and fall in love 
with my roommate.  My bisexual, male roommate.  And what does he do?  He 
falls for someone else.  Stuff like this does wonders for a guy's ego.//  
He knew that Blair didn't know how he felt, that he wouldn't do this to 
hurt him, but Blair was with someone else now and whether it lasted or 
not, for the moment Jim was alone with his feelings. 
	 
"I don't need to be alone," he said aloud, but couldn't think of anyone 
he could call who would understand.  He couldn't call anyone at the 
station, and for the last six years of his life what else had there 
been?  Still, he reached for the phone and found himself dialing a 
number that shouldn't have been familiar to him yet, but somehow came 
immediately to mind. 
	 
On the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up.  "Hi, you have 
reached 476-3114.  I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave 
your name, number and a brief message after the sound of the beep, I'll 
get back to you as soon as possible... ... ... BEEP." 
	 
After a long pause, Jim started. "Hi Carolyn, it's me.  Jim.  If you're 
there, pick up, okay?  Carolyn?  Guess you're not there, huh.  I need to 
talk to you.  Or someone.  Or whatever."  He paused, then remembered 
that silence on an answering machine wasn't a good thing.  "Oh hell, I'm 
already on the phone, may as well bite the bullet.  I got *big* problems 
here, Carol.  Well, not problems, just...  Listen, I'll call you back 
tomorrow or something.  This is just too weird to tell your machine.  
Okay, yeah....bye." 
	 
Jim shut the phone off and lay it gently onto the coffee table.  It 
would have been good to get some of that stuff off his chest, but it was 
all still in there--the worry, the anxiety, the hurt, the confusion.  
There was no one else to call.  No one else who would understand, who 
wouldn't judge. 
	 
Slumping down on the couch, he picked up a magazine off the coffee 
table.  The room was cluttered, the way it always was when he'd let 
Sandburg slide for a few days, but he couldn't bring himself to care.  
There were a lot more important things to worry about than empty drink 
glasses and scattered notes. 
	 
The words didn't make much sense when he tried to read them; most of the 
time his eyes just glazed over and looked past them whenever his 
thoughts began to wander.  It was impossible not to think about it now.  
Impossible not to think about him.  He didn't know how long he sat 
there, his thoughts going round and round in circles. 
	 
A heavy knock at the door jolted Jim from his half-dazed state.  Closing 
the magazine, he stood up and answered it, opening it just a crack to 
see who was on the other side.  "Jim, let me in," said Simon firmly. 
	 
"Simon!  What are you doing here?" 
	 
"Your ex-wife called me.  Imagine that.  Now will you please open this 
door?"  Jim opened it speechlessly and Simon went straight to the tap, 
pouring himself a glass of water.  Once he'd drained the whole thing, he 
placed the cup on the counter and turned towards Jim.  "So you want to 
tell me why Carolyn felt the need to call me from San Francisco just to 
tell me you needed to talk?" 
	 
"What exactly did she say?" asked Jim carefully. 
	 
"Not a bloody thing," said Simon, "but to be honest Jim I was thinking 
about checking in on you anyway.  What with the vicious rumor mill and 
you leaving early... I was a little worried." 
	 
"Well..." began Jim, not knowing where to start or even *if* to start at 
all. 
	 
"Is that what this is all about?  You know as well as I do it'll all 
blow over in a couple of days.  Most of those guys wouldn't know 
friendship if it bit them on the ass." 
	 
"Simon...that's not..."  Jim looked Simon in the eye.  He couldn't read 
people like Blair could, but he was still a pretty fair judge of 
character.  Something had always told him Simon could be trusted.  "I 
mean, we really are..." 
	 
"You mean to tell me you and Sandburg...are an item?" 
	 
"No," said Jim quietly.  "Blair's seeing someone else.  Another guy." 
	 
Simon shook his head.  "I need to sit down," he said, pulling out a 
chair from under the kitchen table.  "Sandburg's gay?" 
	 
"He's bi," clarified Jim, sitting down across from him.  "And, um, so am 
I."  Gradually he brought his eyes up from where they had been staring 
at the table grain, and managed to look at his friend. 
	 
Simon just looked back.  "You are."  It was a statement, and Jim gave 
him the time he needed to think about it.  "I didn't know that." 
	 
"Neither did I." 
	 
Simon nodded slowly.  "Start at the beginning, Jim." 
	 
"I...I need to know that I'm talking to a friend first, Simon."  He 
found himself straightening the placemats nervously, then the salt and 
pepper shakers, and willed himself to be still. 
	 
"I've never been anything else," said Simon immediately. 
	 
"All right then...what should I do?" 
	 
"About?" 
	 
"About the fact that I'm...I'm in love with my roommate." 
	 
"You never said anything about love, Jim.  I don't have the greatest 
track record in that area." 
	 
"Yeah, well neither do I.  And considering that Blair seems pretty 
committed to this other guy, I think that trend is going to hold." 
	 
"I thought Sandburg was dating that perky little redhead..." 
	 
"Who, Meg?  They broke up a couple of weeks ago.  Right before he met 
Blake, I think.  Or right after." 
 
"Jim." 
 
"What?" 
 
"You're avoiding the subject." 
 
Jim's glare only lasted a moment before he realized the Simon really was 
going to push this one, and that he wanted him to.  "The beginning, 
right?"  Simon nodded.  "I don't know where that is.  If I had to pick 
one point in time, it would have to be...oh, *I* don't know.  It was 
about a month ago when Sandburg told me he was bi." 
 
"He just sorta came out and told you?" 
 
Jim smiled.  "So to speak.  I can across some...evidence.  He didn't 
really have much choice.  But that was all fine." 
 
"Until you realized that you wanted him." 
 
Jim winced.  "Do you have to put it like that, Simon?" 
 
"Oh, and how *else* am I going to put it?  Look, Jim, I don't care 
whether you are gay, straight, bi or celibate.   What I *do* care about 
is how it affects your work and your happiness.  You're upset and it 
shows.  So talk." 
 
"There's nothing to talk about.  I fell in love with Blair.  He didn't 
fall in love with me.  End of story." 
 
"*Beginning* of story," amended Simon.  "How do you know he didn't fall 
for you?" 
 
"Well, the fact that he's with someone else was my first clue, Simon..."  
But Simon was already shaking his head.  "What?" 
 
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe he just didn't tell you?  You 
aren't exactly the most approachable person, you know." 
 
"Simon, he would have said something.  Trust me, I gave him plenty of 
chances."  Simon didn't look convinced.  "He can *talk* to me, Simon.  
He's always been able to.  It just wouldn't be like him not to say 
anything." 
 
"People in love do strange things sometimes." 
 
"Love."  Jim snorted.  "Look, if Blair is in love with anyone, it's 
Blake, all right?" 
 
"All right," said Simon.  "So...?" 
 
"So what the hell do I do now?" 
 
"That's easy," said Simon.  "Tell him." 
 
"Tell him?  Are you kidding?" 
 
"If you don't tell him, you're going to be like this for weeks and I, 
for one, don't intend to put up with that.  You don't know what he's 
going to say, Jim, but you *do* know that he's not going to react 
*negatively* to it.  What have you got to lose?" 
 
//Only my self-identity.//  "I don't know." 
 
"Nothing.  That's the answer, Jim.  Nothing."  Jim was silent.  "So what 
*are* you going to do?" 
 
Jim thought about it.  "I guess I'm going to tell him," he decided.  
//Someday.// 
 
"Good," said Simon.  "So tell me, Jim, you got anything to drink in here 
stronger than water?" 
 
"You looking for a beer, Simon?" 
 
"A beer?   Thanks, Jim, a beer would be great.  After all, I did just 
haul myself all the way here for you."  Simon put his feet up on the 
chair next to him as Jim got up to go to the fridge.  "Now maybe both of 
us can relax a little." 
 
******************** 
 
"One more day, Ellison.  You've got one more day; what've you got?"  
Anderson leered at him, leaning on Jim's desk with both hands. 
 
"I might surprise you this year," said Jim lightly.  //Yeah, by not 
showing up.// 
 
"You *always* surprise us," he said, pushing himself off the desk and 
beginning to walk backwards away from the desk, "but you never 
disappoint." 
 
Jim tapped his pen against his desk and shook his head.  "We'll see," 
was all he said.  Picking up his phone, he called Blair's office, but 
there was no answer.  //That's strange...well, he could be anywhere, 
really.// "Hey, Craig." 
 
"Yeah?" 
 
"You want to grab some lunch with me?" 
 
"You aren't going out with the kid?"  Jim didn't have to wince at the 
terminology--Craig was one of the first people to drop the rumour that 
was still spreading through the station like wildfire.  He wasn't sure, 
though, whether it was because Craig believed him, or whether he just 
didn't think it mattered. 
 
"He's busy at work today," said Jim simply. 
 
"Sure then, if you don't mind burgers..." 
 
Jim grinned.  "I'd *love* a burger!"   
 
******************* 
 
Blair wasn't back in his office after lunch, nor was he there when Jim 
called in the middle of the afternoon.  It wasn't particularly 
worrysome, considering how often Blair would get excited about some 
project going on somewhere else in the university and get himself 
wrapped up in that, but Jim just wanted to talk to him today. 
 
It was the fact that he wasn't able to talk to him that finally pushed 
Jim to a decision.  He was going to tell him.  He was going to tell 
Blair that night, the moment he saw him, how he was feeling.  And 
nothing was going to stop him. 
 
Of course, that was easier said than done.  The words he needed to say 
had been forming themselves into loose sentences in his head, but one 
look at Blair would probably jumble them again.  And one look at Blair 
with Blake on his arm would probably banish them altogether. 
 
"You planning on leaving any time before midnight?"  Jim lifted his head 
at the sound of Brown's voice and realized that the populace of the 
station had *seriously* thinned since the last time he'd looked. 
 
"What time is it?" 
 
"A little after six," he said.  "Working hard?" 
 
"Uh yeah," said Jim.  "I guess I am getting out of here."  Last minute 
calls to the university and the loft yielded no results and resignedly 
Jim grabbed his coat and left the station. 
 
Blair wasn't at the loft when he got there either, but the light on the 
answering machine was blinking and Jim went there before he even took 
off his shoes to see if Blair had called.  "Hi Jim," Blair voice came 
from the machine.  "Listen, it's about ten right now and I'm heading off 
with Blake for the day.  Actually, I'm not going to be back until late 
tomorrow, so I guess I won't see you til the ball!  I'm as curious as 
everyone else about who you're bringing, man.  Guess it's the big day 
for *both* of us.  Okay, well, talk to you tomorrow then.  Bye." 
 
Jim stared at the machine for a few long moments before he even started 
to breath again.  Blair wouldn't be back until the ball--he couldn't 
tell him.  He'd had this fantasy in his head that Blair would find out 
that Jim loved him and drop Blake on the spot and then they would go to 
the ball together where everyone would be totally cool and supportive.  
That was not going to happen. 
 
Kicking off his shoes and leaving them on the floor in front of the 
couch, he tried to find something to do to take his mind off Blair and 
Blake and what they were probably doing right at that moment.  Things he 
wanted Blair to be doing to *him*.  He'd never really let himself think 
about that part of it before, but suddenly it was popping uninvited into 
his mind.  And wouldn't leave for the rest of the evening, and on 
through the night. 
 
Jim woke up in the morning feeling like he hadn't gotten a wink of 
sleep.  His entire body ached as though he had tossed and turned all 
night and then ended up sleeping with his body twisted around itself in 
a positions only a contortionist should ever try. 
 
Automatically he tried to locate Blair with his senses, the same way he 
did every morning.  The fact that there was nothing there jarred him a 
little until he remembered that Blair hadn't come home last night, and 
that Blair not coming home might become a more frequent occurrence. 
 
Less than twelve hours until Blair was going to announce to the world 
that he was in love with a man, and that man was not Jim. 
 
******************** 
 
Jim pulled nervously at his bow tie as he stood outside the doors to the 
Cascade Centennial Auditorium.  He'd been getting nods and smiles	from 
the various officers that he knew, but no strange glances.  No one found 
it odd that he was outside waiting for someone and not inside with the 
rest of the guests.  That is, until Simon came along. 
 
"Jim!  I'd like you to meet Charlene.  Charlene, this is one of my best 
officers, Jim Ellison."  Jim held out his hand to the woman standing at 
Simon's side and forced a smile.  Simon place a hand on his shoulder.  
"Why don't you come inside with us, Jim," he said.  Jim could read 
Simon's face, and he could see that Simon knew who he was waiting for. 
 
"I..." he began, putting up a half-hearted protest.  A single shake of 
Simon's head quelled it.   
 
"Come on, Jim, I'll buy you a drink."  His arm moved around Jim's 
shoulders propelling him into the building.   
 
Jim's drink was gone in a single long gulp and he was ready for another 
almost immediatly.  It seemed easy now, to tell Blair how he felt in the 
privacy of the loft.  Here, everything was different and he didn't know 
if he could do it.  Simon's hand the found it's way to his forearm again 
reminded him that he was not sitting alone. 
 
"Jim, Charlene and I are going to dance.  Are you going to be all 
right?" 
 
"I'm fine, Simon."  Like hell he was fine.  Not only were his thoughts 
all over the map, but so were his senses.  His sense of taste was 
completely gone...and smell.  But what worried him most was that his 
hearing was dropped to normal levels and try as he might he couldn't 
bring it back up again.  And the harder he tried, the worse it got.  
//Where the hell is Blair?// 
 
As he watched Simon and his date dance, he caught Blair's form in the 
corner of his eyes and his gaze was drawn immediately to the door.  
There they were, Blair and Blake standing there in their matching tuxes, 
holding hands and smiling as though they didn't have a care in the 
world. 
 
Jim didn't even think.  One minute he was looking at them and the next 
he was on his feet and walking towards them singlemindedly.  Blake gave 
Blair a lingering kiss before moving away in the direction of the 
washroom.  Blair looked up and caught Jim's eye. 
 
"Jim!  You're here!  Boy, am I glad to see you."  Blair held out his 
arms to give his roommate a hug but Jim ignored them. 
 
"Blair you can't do this." 
 
"What?  Oh *man*, I thought you were okay with this.  Jim, please, you 
*said* you were okay with this!" 
 
Jim held up a finger to Blair's lips.  By now the scene had caught the 
attention of almost everyone in the room.  "Listen to me, Blair, you 
can't do this now, not with Blake." 
 
"Talk to me, Jim!  What's going on here?" 
 
"Blair.  Blair, I love you."  Leaning forward, Jim kissed him.  The 
moment his lips touched Blair's for the first time, his senses shot back 
up again so that every minute sensation was an experience in itself.  He 
didn't even think about what would happen beyond this point, he just 
surged ahead.  He never expected Blair to start kissing him back until 
it happened, and his soft lips parted to let Jim inside. 
 
When they drew apart, he could see that Blair's eyes had widened with 
shock.  "Jim?" 
 
"Come home with me, Blair.  Please."  He ran a hand over Blair's hair 
and let it rest on the back of his head. 
 
Blair's eyes flicked to the washroom and back.  "I can't just...Blake's 
here and..." 
 
Jim's eyes sank along with his hand.  "I see." 
 
"Jim, wait."  As Jim began to turn away, Blair pulled him back and 
kissed him again, softly.  "I'll come home early," he whispered.  "As 
soon as it's polite to go.  And then we'll talk about this, okay?"  His 
eyes were pleading, and not even Jim could miss the conflict in them.  
Nor could he miss the way Blair's heart was beating frantically and his 
breathing had quickened. 
 
"Okay," he said, braving a smile.  He ran his hand over Blair's hair 
once again, and Blair gave him the sweetest, dearest smile he could ever 
have imagined. 
 
"Later, Jim," he whispered.  "I promise."  Jim nodded and backed away 
for the door.  He hoped he could find his way, because his mind was full 
of too much else to worry about trivial things like bodies and walls. 
 
Blake returned, oblivious to the scene, and Jim finally pulled his eyes 
away from Blair.  Anderson's hand on his arm stopped him before he made 
his escape.  "Ellison," he said, and Jim braced himself.  He was 
astonished to find that Craig's eyes were dancing.  "Once again a 
surprise," he said, "and definitely not disappointing." 
 
******************** 
 
Jim could easily hear the door click shut, sitting with his eyes closed 
in the middle of the couch.  He didn't even tense as he heard--felt--
Blair move closer to him.  "You've been practicing those breathing 
exercises, huh," said Blair softly. 
 
Jim slowly exhaled.  "Yeah." 
 
"You look relaxed." 
 
Jim blinked his eyes open.  "You don't," he said.  "I'm sorry I 
embarassed you tonight." 
 
Blair shook his head.  "You didn't embarass me, Jim.  I'd already 
decided to come out.  You...about what you said..." 
 
"If you're asking if I meant it, the answer is yes.  But I don't want 
you to feel like you're...*obligated* to do something just because I 
have, you know, feelings for you.  I mean, this is still your home, 
whatever you do..." 
 
"Hey, it's gonna take a little more than a declaration of undying love 
to make me back out on *this* cushy little arrangement," joked Blair.  
"You mind if I...?"  He gestured to the empty space on the couch. 
 
"Go ahead," he said blandly.  "Did you have a good time tonight?" 
 
"Not really." 
 
"Oh yeah.  How come?" 
 
"You weren't there." 
 
Jim eyeballed him skeptically.  He hadn't spent all evening coming to 
terms with what had happened only to have Blair start toying with his 
emotions.  He was fine with it when Blair was with those nameless, 
faceless women, but with him it was another thing entirely.  "You were 
with Blake." 
 
"Jim," said Blair, staring at his hands as his fingers twisted around 
one another, "I have to tell you something." 
 
"It's okay, Blair, I understand." 
 
"No, you don't.  Blake is wonderful.  He's smart and gorgeous and he's 
a, um, great kisser.  He's fun to be with and great to talk to.  
But...he's not you." 
 
Jim shook his head.  "You don't have to do this." 
 
Blair snorted in amused frustration.  "You are *so* not listening to me, 
man."  Turning quickly he took Jim's face in both of his hands and 
kissed his lips soundly.  Jim's eyes widened in shock and Blair gave him 
half a grin.  "Are you starting to get it now?" 
 
"Ummm..." 
 
"Let me give you another hint."  Blair kissed him again, and this time 
Jim closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation.  It didn't shock 
him to realize he was kissing a man, but he did notice the subtle 
differences that made it different from kissing a woman.  The feel of 
the lips.  The roughness of the cheeks.  The strength in the hands that 
held his face.  He just kept drawing in the sensations until Blair 
pulled away. 
 
"I think I'm starting to get it," he murmured, slowly opening his eyes 
again. 
 
"I hope so," said Blair, "because if that didn't tell you how I feel 
about this, I don't know what will.  All those days and nights dreaming 
about you, and then finally giving up...  God, Jim, if I *ever* thought 
you wanted this I would have taken you up on it in a *second*!" 
 
Jim shook off the tingling sensations in his body that were threatening 
to make him lose all reason.  "We need to talk," he said. 
 
"I know," said Blair, nodding.  Gently he pulled his hands away until 
they were just looking at one another. 
 
"What about Blake?"   Jim didn't want to ask, didn't want to know, but 
he had to. 
 
"I told him...that he was a wonderful person and that I liked him a 
great deal," said Blair carefully.  "And then I told him that I couldn't 
see him anymore.  Because the man I'd been aching for for months was 
about to come into my life." 
 
Jim blinked.  "For me?  All this time?" 
 
"Jim...I starting wanting you almost from the moment I moved in here.  
It wasn't just...I mean, I saw you in the morning, and I saw you sick, 
and cranky, and messy, and compulsive, and everything else that you are 
every day of your life.  It wasn't a physical thing, not entirely.  So I 
sublimated it into friendship."  Blair shrugged.  "I wasn't easy, but it 
was easier than telling you." 
 
"I wish you could have told me." 
 
Blair shook his head, "No, you don't." 
 
"I don't?" 
 
"What would you have done if I'd told you before you were ready?  You 
would have freaked, and then you might never have even considered this.  
I never though you'd have *any* of these feelings, and if I'd said 
something too soon you might never have discovered them on your own. 
Thinking about it now, and thinking that you might never have felt them, 
it *scares* me, man.  No, I couldn't have told you." 
 
Jim didn't want to admit that Blair was right, so he didn't do it aloud, 
but inside his head where he kept his deepest thoughts he knew that 
Blair was telling the truth.  "So what is this now, then?" 
 
"This?  Now?  How about the start of a beautiful friendship?" 
 
"We already have that." 
 
"Then how about the continuation of one."  Blair reached out again and 
touched Jim's cheek gently.  He'd never really shown this kind of 
patience with any of his lovers before, at least not that Jim had seen.  
It made him feel...cherished. 
 
"Doesn't this change everything?" said Jim.  "Doesn't this change me?" 
 
"Change you?  Change our friendship?  No way."  Blair stroked his cheek 
and then lowered his hand to rest it on Jim's knee.  "It's just more 
now, that's all.  It's not a change, just sort of a shift.  Think of it 
like shading, Jim.  Not black or white, just a different shade somewhere 
in the middle, just a little ways away from where you were.  Does that 
make any sense?" 
 
"A little," said Jim, finally smiling.  "Enough.  I don't think I get 
this...yet...but it seems to be going ahead whether I understand it or 
not." 
 
"I'll help," said Blair.  "If you want me to.  If we're together." 
 
"I haven't been able to think of anything else for a while now," 
admitted Jim.  His muscles twitched as he consciously restrained himself 
from touching.  Even the casual touches that he and Blair had shared for 
so long now carried so much more meaning.  He didn't want any 
misunderstandings, anything before they were completely ready for it.  
He didn't want anything to mess this up. 
 
Blair clearly wasn't oblivious to the thoughts that were going through 
Jim's head; he reached out and took both of Jim's hands into his own.  
"I think I like it that way.  Jim, this isn't going to be easy...for you 
*or* for me.  Let's just, you know, take it slow and see what happens.  
You okay with that?" 
 
"Am I okay?  That's a tough question."  Jim tried to seriously think 
about the answer but he wasn't thinking, he was feeling.  He was feeling 
the warmth of Blair's hands on his, and the flow of blood that had 
become faster the more time he spent with Blair.  "I don't know," he 
said. 
 
Blair nodded and squeezed his hands.  "I guess it's a good thing one of 
us does," he said, smiling.  "Whatever happens, Jim, I picked *you*.  Or 
maybe someone else picked us for one another.  It doesn't matter, 
because it happened."  He leaned forward again and kissed him on the 
cheek.  "I've wanted you for so long," he whispered in his ear.  "I 
never even dreamed you'd feel anything for me." 
 
"Well maybe you should have."  Jim kissed him fiercely, taking all of 
his fear and uncertainty and love and putting it into that kiss.  Blair 
drew in a shuddering breath when they drew apart.  "Looking back, I 
wasn't all that subtle." 
 
"And maybe I was a little too subtle.  It doesn't matter.  Because we 
made it, man."  Blair began to stand up, pulling Jim up with him.  
"Maybe we should get a little more comfortable?" 
 
"Would it be okay if I just wanted to hold you?" asked Jim, his tone 
both loving and concerned.  "If I just wanted to feel you next to me so 
I could believe that you were really there?" 
 
"I'm here." 
 
He began walking towards his room, then changed course and led Jim to 
the stairs.  "You don't mind, do you?"  Jim shook his head as they began 
to ascend.  "I just want to curl up with you too," said Blair.  "It's 
been a very long night...and this is the kind of homecoming I've been 
dreaming about." 
 
"You'll have to tell me all about it," said Jim.  "Tomorrow." 
 
Jim did fall asleep with his body wrapped around Blair's, but not before 
they spent many long minutes just kissing and touching and trying to 
believe that the whole night had been real. 
 
******************** 
 
Jim awoke with Blair's lips busily nibbling at his throat.  The first 
time he tried to say something, his voice refused to cooperate.  The 
second time he managed to say, "Good morning." 
 
Blair looked up at him.  "Very good morning," he said, then kissed his 
lover softly.  "Isn't it?" 
 
"Yes," Jim had to agree, "Very good morning." 
 
"I guess we're going to talk now, huh." 
 
Jim nodded a little.  "Last night...." 
 
"Regrets, Jim?" 
 
"No," he assured him.  "Only that I didn't say anything sooner.  Last 
night, Blair, everyone saw.  Everyone." 
 
Blair nodded solemnly.  "Yeah, I know.  I'd made the decision to come 
out...but you hadn't.  How do you think Simon's going to take it?" 
 
"Simon already knew." 
 
"He did?" 
 
"I told him."  As he spoke, Jim's fingers traced little patterns up and 
down Blair's spine. "I needed someone to talk to...so I could get up the 
nerve to *tell* you.  I called Carolyn...and she decided that Simon was 
the one." 
 
"*She* decided.  Man, that must've hurt." 
 
Jim smiled.  "It would have been worse if she was wrong...but she isn't 
wrong very often.  Simon knew.  So did Brown." 
 
"Brown..."  Blair mused, closing his eyes as the sensation from Jim's 
roving fingers made his skin tingle.  "Is that how the rumour at the 
station got started?" 
 
"I guess so," said Jim.  "That's what Ray thinks."  His fingers reached 
Blair's waist, hesitated, then began moving upwards again.  "It doesn't 
matter anymore.  After all, it's true." 
 
Blair grinned and kissed him, not letting Jim pull away, and coaxed his 
lips open.  It was almost like their first kiss, hesitant at first, then 
melting into one another like they were meant to be there.  Jim's 
fingers were still gentle, playing with the tendrils of hair at the base 
of Blair's head and then meandering slowly downward again. 
 
"You okay with going back to the station?"  asked Blair, licking his 
lips, his eyes so dilated they began to look black. 
 
"Doesn't matter whether I'm okay or not," said Jim.  "I have to go.  I 
think it'll be easier now...now that it's not a rumour I'm trying to 
deny."   
 
Blair fought the sensations that threatened to override his powers of 
reason to make sure Jim knew what he was talking about.  "Jim," he said, 
"don't kid yourself..." 
 
"I'm not," Jim reassured him.  "I thought this all out for you, 
remember?  Who's gonna react what way, how long it'll last, who's gonna 
be a problem.  I'll probably be wrong.  But I've thought about it." 
 
Blair didn't have any more arguments, and soon Jim's fingers stopped at 
his waist again.  "Jim," whispered Blair huskily.  "Don't worry.  We 
both want this, we know that now." 
 
"Hey, everyone's the same from behind, right," said Jim, trying to 
reassure himself more than Blair.  His hands continued over Blair's 
cheeks, pressing into them gently and feeling the hard muscle underneath 
the deceptive softness. 
 
"Mmm, that feels nice," said Blair, his eyes closing again.  His own 
hands were pressed against Jim's back, holding their bodies together.  
Any moment now Jim would be able to feel Blair's swelling erection, and 
he didn't know what would happen then.  "I love you, you know." 
 
Jim stilled, and Blair didn't know if it was from the words or the fact 
that Jim was faced with hard evidence of Blair's arousal.  "I've only 
imagined this," he said, and Blair felt Jim's limbs begin to relax 
again.  "I've never actually..." 
 
"I know," said Blair.  "That's okay.  If you're okay, that is."  Jim 
didn't respond, not with words, but for the first time Jim's body began 
to really respond to him.  It wasn't just loving words and touches, it 
had become potently sexual. 
 
"So far, so good," said Jim.  "If I, you know, do something 
wrong...you'll tell me, right?" 
 
"Jim, you are *not* doing anything wrong," said Blair emphatically.  
"And if you were by some chance doing something I didn't like...I would 
tell you.  Would you do the same?" 
 
"Yeah," said Jim, then suddenly his fingers slipped into the crack 
between Blair's cheeks and explored downwards again.  Blair moaned and 
began kissing and sucking on Jim's neck right at the point beneath the 
ear on the edge of his jaw.  Jim's fingers reached his hole and touched 
it gently, brushing his fingers against it, back and forth.  Then he 
pressed, just a little, enough to let Blair know he was there.  "It that 
okay?"   
 
Blair nodded, his face pressed into Jim's neck.  Then he reached down 
and began to pull one of Jim's hands up again.  Jim looked at him in 
confusion until he realized what Blair was doing.  Looking directly into 
Jim's eyes, Blair took Jim's finger into his mouth and sucked it until 
is was slick with saliva.  Then he brought it down again, using his own 
strenth to press the tip of it into his own body.  Jim was the one who 
groaned and closed his eyes.  Blair exhaled softly and let the sensation 
flow through his body before pressing it in just a little further. 
 
"God, Blair," was all Jim could say, letting Blair use him and enjoying 
it as much as his partner.  Blair thrust in and out just a little, then 
let go of Jim's hand.  Jim paused a moment, then continued the motion.  
It was almost tentative at first, but when he saw Blair's eyes close and 
his lips part he knew he was doing something right. 
 
He became aware of Blair's hands moving towards him a few moments before 
they made contact with his chest.  Keeping up his own ministrations by 
sheer force of will alone, he moaned loudly as Blair's thumbs flicked 
his nipples to sharp peaks, then continued their journey all over his 
chest until they reached Jim's hips.  Blair tapped his fingertips 
questioningly. 
 
"Do it," said Jim, loudly and clearly.  With only one more moment's 
pause, Blair let a hand slip between their bodies and wrap around Jim's 
erection, and the other wrapped around his own.  Jim moaned again and 
Blair smiled.  He hadn't expected the other man to be quite so...vocal.  
He began to stroke, but Jim stopped him.  "Too much," he said. 
 
So Blair just held him, stroking himself in time to the slow thrusts 
that Jim was still delivering.  Soon it wouldn't be enough; soon he 
wouldn't care if his touch was too much because he *wanted* them both to 
drive towards orgasm.  Unexpectedly, Jim slipped another finger into 
Blair's body and thrust deeply.  Blair himself cried out this time and 
instinctively began stroking Jim again.  He couldn't help it--he was 
close and he wanted Jim to be too. 
 
"Blair, too much," said Jim again, his own motions increasing in time 
with his arousal. 
 
"I want it to be too much," said Blair, sinking his teeth into Jim's 
shoulder as he came explosively.  Jim gasped, pressing himself into 
Blair, trying to feel every bit of sensation before he too, spilled 
himself over Blair's hand. 
 
Blair let go of them and wrapped his arms around Jim, not quite knowing 
what to expect.  Jim's hands clutched Blair's hips tightly, holding his 
lover close.  "No regrets?"  whispered Blair carefully, nervously. 
 
"None whatsoever," said Jim, taking a deep breath and letting it out 
again.  He nuzzled Blair's cheek with his own and then kissed it 
roughly.  "I still love you." 
 
"Mmm... and you were worried I wouldn't respect you in the morning." 
 
"Hey, I never once worried about that," protested Jim, still not letting 
him go.  "Everything else, I worried about.  But not that."  He yawned 
loudly and Blair chuckled, snuggling close. 
 
"I think we could both use another hour or so of sleep," he said softly.   
Jim's yawn was agreement enough. 
 
******************** 
 
"Blair, you almost ready?"  Jim had been reluctant to get out of bed, 
but in the end his need for a shower had overridden his need to be 
wrapped around Blair. Half an hour and two short, but hot, showers 
later, they were ready to head out of the loft for a while.  Blair's 
complaints of feeling claustrophobic weren't really justified, but they 
*were* shared. 
 
"Yep."  Blair came out of his room wearing a T-shirt and jeans with a 
plaid shirt overtop, and was tying his hair back quickly with an elastic 
band.  He took one look at Jim and grinned.  "Man, you look great!"  
Walking over to him quickly, he grasped Jim's blue tank top with a hand 
and tilted his head up to kiss him deeply.  "You ready?" 
 
"I think so," said Jim.  His entire posture, his entire attitude, had 
changed from the night before.  It was a miracle what a little 
reassurance could do for a person.  Just to know that Blair had felt the 
same, even without the physical confirmation they had enjoyed, was 
enough to halt the insecurities that he had been feeling.  But he still 
didn't know who he was.  "What were you doing in there for so long?" 
 
"Oh, I just had to, um, make a phone call." 
 
"A phone call?  If I'd known that I would have..." 
 
"Listened in," finished Blair.  "Why do you think I didn't tell you?"  
He grinned mischievously.  "Let's go then." 
 
It was a short walk to the park, only a few blocks away, but Jim 
couldn't say it was a walk free of anxiety.  How could he have declared 
his love in front of a roomful of cops, and then worry *now* about who 
saw them?  Before last night there had only been four people who knew, 
if you didn't count the rumours.  Jim, Simon, Brown...and Stephen.  
Stephen had taken it pretty well when Jim had told him, all things 
considered.  Maybe he'd already known.   The rift between them still 
hadn't been healed enough for him to really confide in him; this was the 
first time that Jim had tried.  He was going to have to call him up and 
let him know everything that had happened. 
 
"Hey, Jim." 
 
"Yeah?" 
 
"You want to sit down?" 
 
"Hang on a sec."  Jim looked off into the distance and Blair didn't even 
bother to look, waiting for Jim to tell him what he was seeing.  "It's 
Brown." 
 
"Oh?  Well let's go over there and say hi."  Jim hesitated.  "No cold 
feet now, man.  Let's go.  It's not like he doesn't know."  He tugged on 
Jim's arm, but Jim stood firm. 
 
"Now wait a second, Chief.  I'll go, but let's not get all gung ho here.  
Can you try and be, you know, discreet?" 
 
"Come on, Jim.  Give me a little credit here."  Blair rolled his eyes, 
but it was good-naturedly. "Remember why we're out here in the first 
place." 
 
"To go for a walk?  Get some fresh air?" 
 
"To remind ourselves that we exist in this world," corrected Blair.  "To 
make sure that whatever is between us when we're alone still exists when 
we aren't." 
 
"Deep," said Jim. 
 
"Honest."   
 
Blair's eyes challenged him to take those first few steps forward, and 
he did.  "Whatever I feel for you, Blair, doesn't depend on that.  It 
doesn't depend on anything but us."  He smiled, and bravely reached out 
his hand to take Blair's. 
 
"Jim!  Blair!"  Ray noticed them coming and walked out towards them.  
Jim saw Elise pushing their son on the swingset.  She looked up at them, 
but Jim couldn't read her expression.  Ray, however, was smiling.  "How 
are you guys doing?"  He looked down and gestured at their clasped 
hands.  "I guess you..." 
 
"Um, yeah," said Jim. 
 
Brown looked at him.  "I'm happy for you," he said.  "I know how much 
you wanted this." 
 
"Thanks." 
 
"You too, Blair.  It's a bit of a *surprise* I have to admit, but..."  
He shrugged.  "I'm happy for you."  Blair just smiled and nodded.  "Um, 
Jim, about the other night?  About what we were talking about?" 
 
"Yeah?" 
 
"Well, she told me.  About how she's been carrying on." 
 
"She did?" 
 
Brown nodded.  "She did.  I don't know what's going to happen...but 
we're going to try and work it out." 
 
"Well, that's really great," said Jim. 
 
"You guys want to come and join us?"  Brown gestured to the rest of his 
family. 
 
"Um, thanks," said Jim, "but we're just out for a walk.  Maybe some 
other time?" 
 
"Yeah, we'll have to have you over for dinner some time.  Both of you." 
 
Jim smiled.  "That'd be nice." 
 
"Well, I should go back," said Brown.  "Tyler's waiting for his 'big 
daddy push'."  He chuckled a little.  "I'll see you guys around the 
station.  And, um, good luck." 
 
"Thanks," said Jim again to Brown's retreating back. 
 
"So?" said Blair. 
 
"So what?" 
 
"So how do you feel?  You just talked to one of your colleagues about 
your relationship in a mature and respectful manner for the first time." 
 
Jim rolled his eyes.  "Can you stop being an anthropologist for one day 
and just be my lover?" 
 
Blair grinned.  "Gladly, man." 
 
******************** 
	 
Blair saw the familiar car outside the loft as they returned from their 
walk and smiled.  "What's up, Chief?"  asked Jim, squeezing his 
shoulder.  "Hey, look--Stephen's here.  I wonder what he wants?" 
	 
Blair shrugged nonchalantly.  "Guess we'll find out in a minute, won't 
we."  He reached out for Jim 's hand when they were almost at the door 
to the building, and Jim let him take it.  "Hey," Blair softly reminded 
him, "relax.  We're in this together."  Jim smiled and opened the door, 
letting Blair through first.  Stephen was just inside leaning against 
the wall, an army green backpack slung over his shoulder. 
	 
"Hey, Stephen!"  With his free arm, Jim gave his brother a quick, self-
conscious hug.  "What's up?" 
	 
"I just came by for a visit," he said.  "That *is* okay, isn't it?"  
From the smirk on his face, Jim knew Stephen expected him to say yes.  
The guy sure had come a long way from the uptight executive Jim had 
become reacquainted with only a couple of months ago. 
	 
"Come on up," said Jim, starting for the stairs with Blair right beside 
him.  It was one thing to know that Stephen approved of their 
relationship, but it was quite another to be face to face with him, and 
even the smallest intimacy with Blair made him more than a little self- 
conscious.  He completely missed the conspiratorial look that passed 
between Stephen and Blair behind his back. 
	 
"Anyone else want something to drink?"  he asked as he unlocked the 
door. 
	 
Blair released his hand and strode into the living room, collapsing on 
the couch.  "Sure, could you get me something?"  Jim briefly gave him a 
disappointed look, then turned into the kitchen.  When he'd grabbed two 
beers out of the fridge and turned back again, he saw that Blair and 
Stephen were sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking at something. 
	 
"What have you got there?"  he asked reflexively, before focusing on it 
himself.  When he realized what they had, he almost dropped the beer.  
"Hey!  What the hell are you doing?  You can't look at that!"  Dropping 
the beer to the counter, he raced in and tried to wrestle the photo 
album from Stephen's grasp.  He might have been able to do it, too, if 
it weren't for the puppy-dog eyes that Blair cast on him.  Well, the 
puppy-dog eyes with the vague threat in them that he would be sleeping 
downstairs that night. 
	 
"You promised," he said. 
	 
"I did nothing of the sort."  Blair flipped the page over and burst out 
laughing.  "Oh man, is that really you?"  Jim reached out to flip the 
album shut, but Blair slapped his hand away.  "Good thing you filled out 
a little!" 
	 
Jim rolled his eyes and squished onto the couch next to Blair.  "If you 
guys are going to insist on humiliating me I'm going to at least be here 
to defend myself.  Can we, uh, skip a few pages here?" 
	 
"Not a chance!" laughed Blair.  Then he turned and kissed Jim's lips.  
"You know I love you, don't you?" 
	 
"Yeah, I know," said Jim without even a glance Stephen's way.  "I love 
you too."  He kissed him again, slowly, sensually.  "A different shade, 
you said," he mused, his lips still close to Blair's.  "I think I could 
learn to like this colour." 
	 
 
--end--