THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS
PART II
 
by R'rain Prior 
 
 
 
Blair fought the urge to look back at Jim, knowing that if he did he might 
just turn right around and race straight into his arms.  That wouldn't do 
either of them any good.  It was so easy and natural for him to feel things 
for Jim.  What wasn't easy was *dealing* with those feelings--those feeling in 
him, for another man.  Right now it was just...overwhelming. 
 
"Blair, honey?" asked Ryan, glancing at his friend with wide, concerned brown 
eyes.  "What's so important you had to call me at 11 at night to talk about?" 
 
"It's...let's wait a bit on that.  How are you and Rob doing?" 
 
Ryan rode with the flow of the conversation.  "Me and Rob?  We were doing 
great until you called." 
 
Blair blushed.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." 
 
"*Kidding*, hon.  I was just kidding.  In truth, things are pretty good, but 
he was so engrossed with his computer I don't even think he noticed that I 
went out."  He rolled his eyes and gave Blair an impish grin that was, after a 
pause, returned. 
 
They reached the bottom of the stairs and strolled casually through the front 
door of the building.  "So when *are* you going to start talking?" asked Ryan, 
trying to prompt the other man to at least say something. 
 
Blair looked up at the window to the loft and shook his head.   
 
"Just drive for a bit.  I'll tell you when." 
 
Ryan shrugged and got into the driver's seat, pulling away from the curb and 
heading up Prospect once Blair was safely inside.   
 
"Where are we headed then?" 
 
"Um....Sunstone," said Blair.  "They're open late, aren't they?" 
 
Ryan nodded.  "They had a classical guitarist in tonight.  Rob says that he's 
amazing.  Did you have some sort of fight with Jim?" 
 
Blair shook his head.  "No, not a fight.  Can this wait 'til you're not 
driving?" 
 
Ryan looked at him sympathetically.  "That bad, huh.  Dumped?" 
 
Blair shook his head again. 
 
"Computer crash?" 
 
Blair rolled his eyes and shook his head yet again.   
 
"Stop speculating and drive," he said.  "We'll talk when we get there." 
 
"All right, all right.  No need to get testy, hon.  I'm only trying to help." 
 
"I know," sighed Blair.  They pulled up to the coffeehouse and stepped inside 
the room.  It was crowded, but Blair was still comfortable talking there, even 
about this. 
 
Ryan grabbed them a table and ordered two lattes before Blair could stall any 
longer.   
 
"Blair, sweetie, talk to me, would you?" 
 
"Ryan, I..."  Blair was again at a loss for words. 
 
"You what?" 
 
"I'm...I'm going out with Jim." 
 
Ryan was glad the drinks hadn't been served yet or he would have spit his out 
all over the table.  "I'm sorry, hon, I must have misheard that.  You're 
*what*?" 
 
"I'm seeing Jim," he repeated, almost disbelievingly.  He looked at his friend 
with pleading eyes.  "What the hell am I going to do?" 
 
"That depends...are you looking for advice...or diagrams?" 
 
"Ry...please!" 
 
"I'm sorry, Blair.  I am.  But it's not like this is a bad thing.  It's *not*.  
So tell me what happened, luv." 
 
"I don't *know* what happened.  I mean, I don't know how it happened, it just 
did." 
 
"But isn't that how the best things start?" he asked with a smile. 
 
Blair couldn't return it.  "Come on, Ry, help me out here, would you?" 
 
Ryan looked Blair up and down and struggled not to shake his head.  "When did 
you know that you wanted to be with him?" 
 
"With *him*," repeated Blair.  "Jim is a *him*.  How could that happen?" 
 
"If I weren't so bloody fond of you I might take that as an insult," he 
replied.  "How could it happen?  Does it matter?" 
 
"It matters to me." 
 
"Yeah, I suppose it does," said Ryan, a little sadly.  "Never thought you, of 
all people, would be so closed-minded, though." 
 
"I am *not* closed-minded." 
 
"Oh?  Then what's the problem?" 
 
Blair actually stopped to think.  "I...don't know exactly.  Except that I was 
so sure I was straight.  I mean, I was *positive* I was straight." 
 
Ryan snorted.  "Yeah, so was I.  I guess the 'dar was a little haywire the day 
we met." 
 
"So, I just...it's like suddenly I'm not *me*." 
 
"Then who are you?" 
 
"I mean, this isn't a part of the me that I knew." 
 
"Maybe not, but it doesn't take away from what you already are." 
 
Blair shook his head.  "That's not true." 
 
"What do you mean it isn't true?" 
 
"I mean that it *does* take things away...my confidence, my self-image...a lot 
of things." 
 
"Only because you let it." 
 
"I'm not *letting* 'it' do anything, Ry.  It just is.  This is screwing me 
around, big time." 
 
"Yeah," said Ryan quietly, "I see that.  When did all this happen?" 
 
"Tonight...I found out that Jim's bi.  And it just sorta came together...all 
the things that I had been feeling in the back of my mind were suddenly in the 
front.  And *I* didn't know what the hell to do with them.  So we were talking 
and...and I told him.  I didn't think I could bear to see him with another 
man." 
 
Ryan nodded.  "It's okay, darlin'." 
 
Blair smiled, grateful that Ryan was there.  "So...what do I do?" 
 
"What do you *want* to do?" 
 
"Well...what did *you* do...when you found out you were gay?" 
 
"Well, Blair, I started dating men." 
 
Blair rolled his eyes.  "That's not what I meant." 
 
"I know it isn't, hon.  But I don't know what to tell you.  I probably did the 
same thing you are...looked for someone to talk to." 
 
"And they said...?" 
 
Ryan reached out to take Blair's hands into his.  "Blair, you've just got to 
take things one at a time.  Be with Jim.  Experiment a little.  Find out what 
you want if you don't already know.  And you can talk to him...I'm sure he'll 
understand.  I *know* he will.  We've all been there, sweetie.  You've just 
got to muddle your way through." 
 
Blair sighed.  "I guess I knew that already." 
 
"You just needed to hear someone say it?" 
 
"Something like that." 
 
Ryan took a sip of the drink that in the midst of their conversation had 
appeared in front of him.  "You know that I really didn't mind coming out here 
with you, don't you?  That you can call me any time?" 
 
Blair nodded. "I know.  Thank you.  I'm just....really confused right now." 
 
Ryan touched his arm sympathetically.  "The only thing that's going to fix 
that is time." 
 
<><><><><><><><><><> 
  
Blair looked at his watch just before opening the door to the loft.  It was 
one in the morning.  He wondered if Jim was still awake, if he was even still 
there.  As quietly as he could, he slipped his key into the lock and opened 
it. 
 
The first thing he saw was Jim sitting serenely on the couch, looking at the 
door. 
 
"Jim?" he said quietly.  Taking a deep breath, he walked over to his partner 
and planted a brief kiss on his slightly-parted lips. 
 
Jim smiled.  "You doing okay?" 
 
"I'm doing okay...how about you?" 
 
"Doing okay here too.  I was just waiting for you to get home." 
 
"I know." 
 
"Michael left about an hour ago or so."  Hi eyes never left Blair's face, 
waiting for some word about where he'd gone or what he'd done. 
 
He just nodded.  "I never realized you two were, you know, more than friends," 
 
"Yeah, we were," said Jim honestly.  "But I'm sure you don't want to hear 
about that." 
 
"I do."  Blair sat down next to him.  "I do want to know." 
 
Jim's expression turned curious.  "Why?" 
 
"Why? Because it was a part of your life.  And because he's your friend and I 
know nothing about him."  While Blair's voice was quiet, it was nonetheless 
earnest. 
 
"All right."  Jim smiled at him affectionately.  "I guess whatever we had 
started almost two years ago--two guys alone at one of those Cascade P.D. 
function that you couldn't make.  We got to talking and, well, one thing led 
to another..."  Led into the bedroom, of course...somewhere neither one of 
them had been with someone else in too long... 
 
"And then...?" 
 
Jim hadn't realized he had stopped talking; the memories had kept going in his 
head. 
 
"It barely lasted a year.  He got tired of me always hiding him from you, and 
everyone else for that matter.  He isn't out at the station, but he is and was 
a lot more open than me.  Under different circumstances, we might have still 
been together--we were good." 
 
"You guys broke up because of me?" 
 
"No, we broke up because of *me*.  Because I couldn't be everything he wanted 
me to.  And maybe because I didn't love him enough, because already my heart 
was being pulled toward someone else. 
 
Blair didn't say anything, but his head had come to rest against Jim's 
shoulder.  Jim reached out and stroked his hair for a moment. 
 
"Thanks for the time to myself tonight," said Blair finally.  "Me and Ryan, we 
went out for coffee.  Had a good talk." 
 
"Good." 
 
After another moment, Blair got up. 
 
"I think it's time to get some sleep." 
 
Jim lifted himself off the couch.  "Listen, Blair.  I don't expect you to do 
it tonight...I just want you to know that you're welcome upstairs with me 
anytime." 
 
Blair paused a moment and then nodded.  "Thanks, Jim,"  He brushed his lips 
against Jim's again, "but my own room will be fine for tonight.  I'll see you 
in the morning, all right?" 
 
"In the morning," agreed Jim.  "Sweet dreams." 
 
"You, too, Jim," said Blair, disappearing into his bedroom.  "You, too." 
 
<><><><><><><><><><> 
  
Blair woke up with a start and looked at his clock.  It read 6:30 am...Jim was 
going to be up any time now.  He tried to roll over and fall asleep again, but 
after tossing and turning for a couple of minutes, he realized that it was no 
use.  Flipping his legs over the side of the bed, he sat there for a moment 
and then got to his feet, softly padding up the stairs to Jim's loft. 
 
He lay down experimentally, so close to the edge of the bed he was almost 
falling off.  Gradually, he moved back inch by inch until his body and Jim's 
were just barely touching.  He lay like that for a moment, then silently got 
out of the bed and went back downstairs to start breakfast. 
 
Jim opened his eyes and smiled. 
  
Blair was almost finished scrambling the eggs when the cop finally came 
downstairs, tucking a white T-shirt into his jeans.  "Smells good, Chief." 
 
Blair looked up at him.  "Thanks.  You want toast?" 
 
Jim nodded.  "Yeah, thanks.   Did you get the paper yet?" 
 
"No, I thought we'd get it on the way to the station.  I have a question for 
you." 
 
"What?" 
 
"Yesterday, *way* back when you first got home, you asked if David had called.  
Were you expecting him to or something?" 
 
Jim was a little thrown for a moment.  "Um, yeah, actually I was.  I told you 
about our camping trips, right?" 
 
Blair nodded. 
 
"Well, I haven't heard from him in months, and the date's coming up on us 
fast.  I've been waiting for him to get ahold of me for weeks." 
 
"Well, can't you just call *him*?" 
 
"I would if I knew how, but he's never in the same place for long." 
 
Blair nodded.  "Like my mom.  What does he do?" 
 
Jim shrugged.  "This and that.  He's a freelance writer.  Last time we talked, 
he was getting into a little political activism."  Jim chuckled a little.  
"He's a *lot* more out than I am." 
 
"Oh.  Orange juice?" 
 
Jim sat down at the table.  "Thanks." 
 
"So you're still going camping with him this summer?" 
 
Jim didn't even look up. "I don't know, Chief.  Maybe.  Is that okay?" 
 
"Yeah, sure, of course it's okay.  Coffee?" 
 
Jim held out his cup so that Blair could pour.  "If he doesn't get ahold of me 
soon, I guess it's off, though.  That'd be a shame." 
 
"I'd like to meet him." 
 
"You would?" 
 
"Yeah.  I know Carolyn, the other major relationship in your life.  Why  
shouldn't I know David, too?" 
 
"Well, um, sure, Chief." 
 
"Thanks." 
 
Jim finished off his breakfast quickly and headed into the bathroom to get 
ready for work.  Blair watched him go, an almost puzzled expression on his 
face.  It had been comfortable slipping into Jim's bed with him--way more 
comfortable than he would have thought and just as perfect as he'd imagined.  
It had been even better when they'd touched.  He didn't think it would be long 
until he took Jim up on his invitation, and hoped that his partner would be 
okay leaving it at *just* sleep for a while.  Blair didn't think--no, he 
*knew*--that he wasn't ready for anything else. 
 
Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the station as though nothing 
had changed between them at all, but the moment they parked--just before they 
got out of the truck--Jim touched his hand briefly, reassuringly, and Blair 
knew that things were never going to be quite the same again. 
 
<><><><><><><><><><> 
 
A week later and things were even better.  Jim woke up every morning to the 
feel of Blair crawling into bed with him--at first just for a minute or so, 
but gradually longer, until this morning Blair lay there spooned against him 
until Jim acknowledged it.  He wasn't sure whether he was supposed to reach 
out and curl an arm around Blair, or just lie there listening to his shallow 
rapid breaths.--more from nervousness than from arousal, he assumed.  Finally, 
he just coughed quietly and said, "Good morning." 
 
Blair shifted slightly.  "Good morning, Jim." 
 
"What time is it?" 
 
He could feel Blair shrug.  "It's Sunday; does it matter?"  He was making no 
motion to get up, so Jim lifted a hand out of the blankets and lay it on his 
lover's forearm. 
 
"If it's Sunday, does that mean we're going back to sleep?" 
 
Blair, who had been facing away and letting Jim's form envelop him closely, 
rolled over towards his lover.  Leaning forward, he gave Jim a slow, deep 
kiss.  They had been kissing every day--when they met in the morning, saying 
hello, saying good-bye, saying goodnight, but never anything like this. 
 
After a moment of hesitation Jim kissed him back, but he let the younger man 
be the one to reach out to him and deepen the embrace.  When the kiss finally 
faded, Blair laid his head on Jim's chest.   
 
"This is nice," he said mildly. 
 
Jim smiled, even though Blair wasn't in a position to see.  Trust Blair to be 
as bouncy as a child over evidence in a case and composed about something like 
this.   
 
"Yeah, it is," he replied. 
 
"Can I sleep some more, here, with you?" 
 
Jim kissed the top of his head.  "I'd love it if you did."  Blair was 
relatively quick to fall fast asleep again in Jim's arms, but the other man 
remained awake and watched him the whole time. 
 
It was about eleven a.m. when Blair awoke for good, his head automatically 
tilting upwards to receive a good morning kiss.  There was no waking up in a 
strange bed and wondering where he was--he *knew* where he was, and who he was 
with.  It was where he wanted to be.  After getting up out of the bed and 
snagging Jim's robe before the other man could protest, Blair stood at the top 
of the stairs for a moment.   
 
"Pancakes okay for breakfast?" he asked him. 
 
Jim nodded.  "Sounds good, Chief.  I'll be right down."  He eyed the robe but 
let it slide; he *liked* seeing the oversized object draped over Blair's body 
so intimately. 
 
Blair padded down the stairs and Jim stretched, stiff after so long in bed. He 
threw his legs over the side and wiped his only-slightly-bleary eyes before 
getting to his feet and finding something to throw on.  Looking down at 
himself, he decided that the boxer shorts would do, for now.  And if someone 
showed up at the door, so be it. 
 
Blair looked his partner up and down.  "I like the look," he teased, opening 
his arms so that Jim could walk into them and give him a bone-crunching hug.  
"Hey, easy, man," he laughed, "I've only got one body and it had better last 
me for a while." 
 
Jim released him and walked over to start the coffeemaker.   
 
"Anything on the agenda for today?" 
 
"Not a thing." 
 
It hadn't been a great week--things at the station had been hopping and 
Blair'd had to administer two mid-terms as well as collect a set of papers at 
the university.  Not a lot of time to talk, but they made that time along the 
way.  Jim had been delighted by this morning, but he was still not going to 
push Blair into any more. 
 
This afternoon maybe they could sit down, put some music on, and just relax 
for a little while--not worry about anything that was going on.  It had always 
been Jim's way to spend Sundays in his quiet home, looking out over the city 
and watching the boats in the bay when the day was clear enough.  It was nice, 
now, to have someone to share that peace with. 
 
Life with Blair, after all, was seldom peaceful. 
 
He registered the sound of the phone ringing, and Blair picking it up, but he 
didn't turn to look, instead popping some bread in the toaster and opening the 
fridge, looking for the juice. 
 
"Jim, it's for you." 
 
The phone call lasted a total of four minutes before Jim set down the  
receiver with a puzzled look on his face. 
 
"Jim?" 
 
"Yeah?" 
 
"Who was that?" 
 
"That was, um, David." 
 
Blair almost dropped the bottle of syrup in his hand, but managed to hold on 
with a tight, white-knuckled grip.   
 
"David?" 
 
"Yeah, he says he isn't going to be able to make the trip this year; he's 
working on some big project." 
 
"Oh?  That's too bad."  He tried to sound sympathetic, but instead came across 
more relieved than anything. 
 
Jim shrugged half-heartedly.  "That's not the odd part." 
 
"Odd part?" 
 
"Yeah, he said I'm going to be getting some sort of big surprise soon." 
 
"What, he's pregnant with your love child?" smirked Blair. 
 
Jim swatted him with the morning paper.  "I have *no* idea what he's talking 
about.  Hm.  Well, he does still have some of my old stuff.  Maybe he's 
finally going to give it back." 
 
"Jim, you don't know much about break-ups, do you?  You can kiss that stuff 
*goodbye*." 
 
"Kinda like my wine goblets that somehow left with Carolyn,"  he admitted  
reluctantly.  "Well, it was a thought." 
 
"You like blueberries?" asked Blair, mixing the pancake batter. 
 
Jim nodded.  "Yeah, sure.  I'm just gonna take a quick shower.  See you in a 
few."  Jim slipped into the bathroom and took a shower, trying to get the 
phone call out of his mind.  It didn't work, but hopefully spending the whole 
day with Blair would. 
 
<><><><><><><><><><> 
 
"Do you miss him?" 
 
Blair's question came out of the blue, between a walk down Prospect with Jim 
and the beginning of the evening news. 
 
"Miss who?" 
 
"David." 
 
"No," said Jim honestly, without having to give it much thought.  "I don't 
miss him.  I don't event think about him much.  If David had stayed in my 
life, I don't know how it would have turned out, and I'm quite happy with 
things the way they are." 
 
"Was it worth it, then?  Being with him?" 
 
"Yeah," said Jim, smiling.  "It was worth it.  And even after it ended, it 
gave me images to cling to all the time I needed something, on a dozen 
missions that could have been my last.  What we had was both exciting and 
wonderful and agonizing...but don't get me wrong, it's also definitely 
*over*." 
 
Blair smiled.  "I'm not worried.  Just...curious." 
 
It was easier for Jim now to talk to Blair about David--not that it had been 
so hard before, but the call had actually given him the impetus to sit down 
and talk about it.  Talk about their first date, their first time, their 
vacations to Vegas and to Mexico.  It was like the floodgates had been opened 
on that relationship.  He even pulled out a whole *book* of pictures to share.  
And when the evening was winding to a close and Blair was sitting back on the 
couch with half a glass of wine in one hand and stifling a yawn with the 
other, Jim made his decision about the journal he had set aside a week ago. 
 
"Blair," he said quietly.  "I know this is still kinda rough on you."  Blair 
didn't nod, but Jim knew that it was.  "This is...this is a journal that I 
kept when I was sixteen.  When I was....well, when I was there.  I want you to 
have it, to read it.  If you want." 
 
Blair took the black-bound journal from Jim's outstretched hand.  "You  
mean that?" 
 
Jim nodded.  "I used to write it all down...what I was thinking and, um, 
feeling.  It was a long time ago--that book probably remembers a lot more than 
I do." 
 
"Thank you," said Blair simply. 
 
"Just one thing," said Jim.  "There are going to be things in there... that 
aren't, well, pretty.  I may not bring them up on my own...but if you want to, 
you can ask." 
 
Blair nodded, obviously not knowing what Jim was referring to, but 
appreciating the gesture nonetheless. 
 
"I'm going to head up to bed now," he said, gesturing to the stairs.  "Do you 
want to...?" 
 
Blair shook his head, but he was smiling.  "I'll see you in the morning," he 
said. 
 
Jim nodded and went up the stairs. 
 
<><><><><><><><><><> 
  
The station was unusually quiet when Jim stepped off the elevator the next 
morning.  He looked from one colleague to another, and finally made a beeline 
for Simon's office. 
 
"Simon," he said, knocking on the door.  "Simon, what the hell's going on 
around here?" 
 
Simon opened his door and pulled Jim inside.  "Jim, I didn't expect to see you 
this morning." 
 
"Why the hell not?  What's the big deal?" 
 
"Didn't you watch the news this morning?  Read the paper?" 
 
Jim shook his head.  "I slept in, came straight to the station." 
 
Simon sighed and pushed his copy of the morning paper towards Jim.  The 
headline read  "Prominent Cascade Citizens Outed by Militant Gay Rights Group" 
 
Jim snatched the paper up and scanned the article until his own name jumped 
out at him.  "...big surprise..." he muttered to himself, his eyes widening.  
"Oh my God, Simon!" 
 
Simon ran a hand over his face and shook his head.  "These groups, they're 
always doing this to get media attention, Jim.  We all know that.  But people 
have trouble telling the truth for the hype, and you have no idea what this is 
going to do to the station." 
 
"To the *station*, Simon?" said Jim.  "Did you give any thought to what it's 
going to do to *me*?" 
 
"We both know what this is, Jim.  That it's just a publicity ploy..."  Jim 
just looked at him steadily for a moment.  "Tell me it isn't true, Jim," he 
said, his hand falling away from his face and his muscles tightening in 
anticipation of the response. 
 
Jim couldn't answer him. 
 
"Jim?" 
 
He sat down.  "And if it is?" he said quietly.  This time it was Simon who was 
speechless.  "What if it is?" repeated Jim.  "What then?" 
 
"Is it?" 
 
Jim nodded, taking a deep breath.  "I'm bisexual, sir."  He paused, the dead 
silence in the office deafening.  "So, what now?" 
 
Simon slammed his coffee cup down on the desk.  "Jesus, Jim, why didn't you 
tell me?  I'm your *friend*!" 
 
Jim stood up again and started pacing the office.  "I'm sorry I didn't tell 
you, but I valued my career too much for that.  We don't exactly have the time 
to discuss that decision right now." 
 
"Then we'll damn well *make* time," said Simon in a tone of voice that shot 
down in a heartbeat any kind of argument to the contrary. 
 
"Simon," said Jim, sounding pained.  "I've had a hell of a week to begin with.  
Do you know how much I don't need *this* right now?  I don't need to be 
answering to *anyone* about my private life.  Not even you.  And *especially* 
not to every damn citizen of Cascade who reads the paper.  How long before the 
chief of police comes down on me over this?  Before my barber knows?  My 
grocery clerk?  Before I have to watch my back against, not only criminals, 
but *my own*?  I don't need this, dammit!" 
 
Simon backed off.  "Jim...I've got to know...are you and Sandburg...?" 
 
"NO," said Jim, "you do *not* need to know that!" 
 
Simon looked startled. 
 
"But," he went on, "Blair and I are *not* sleeping together.  All right?"  Jim 
picked up the paper again and slammed it back down.  "I can't believe he would 
do this to me!" 
 
"Who?" 
 
Jim shot him a glare.  "Just...someone I know."  He sat down again.  How am I 
going to go back out there?" 
 
"Jim....you could still deny the story." 
 
Jim looked like he was thinking about it, but shook his head.  "I can't do 
that, not anymore.  Besides, there are dozens of people named in that story.  
My denying it wouldn't do *them* any good.  What the hell were these guys 
*thinking* of?" 
 
"It's a powerful tool for their cause, to out people," said Simon, his voice 
more resigned with every word. 
 
"Jim, you have no idea how sorry I am that it was you..." 
 
"You're sorry.  Simon, you have *no* idea what I'm going through right now. I 
need to get out of here." 
 
"Take a sick day, then," said Simon.  "And if you were at all concerned about 
it,your job here is in no danger.  There are laws." 
 
"It had better not be," he replied darkly before leaving the office. 
 
The usual noise of the bullpen died down again as Jim exited the office.  He 
clenched his fists at his sides as he made his way to his desk.  He might not 
be able to stand being in here today, but damned if he was going to let this 
get in the way of his job.  He couldn't let it. 
  
He'd been working with Brown on one of his cases and, after picking up his 
work off his desk, he made his way over there.  He reached to tap the other 
detective on the shoulder, but Brown flinched away.  
 
Jim snapped. 
 
Shoving everything off of Brown's desk in a fit of frustration, he cleared his 
throat and addressed the room.  "Listen up!" he yelled to the entire Major 
Crime bullpen.  "I know damn well you've already read the news.  Well, fine!  
That's just great!  But why the hell don't you ask me about it?  Too fucking 
chicken?  Yes, I'm bisexual.  Happy?  Feel like your lives are complete now 
that I've told you?"  He grabbed the file he needed from the pile on the 
floor.  "I, at least, am going to get some work done."  With that, he walked 
out of the room without a single look back. 
 
The moment he was on the other side of the opaque glass, he leaned against the 
wall and closed his eyes, all the adrenaline draining from his body.  //What 
the hell did I just do? That is *not* how I intended to come out.  Ever.  How 
the hell am I going to explain this to Blair?// 
 
Motion in the bullpen did not resume for a good two minutes--the first noises 
Jim heard were the sounds of Brown picking up his papers off the floor.  Then 
the buzz of conversation began again.  Jim could have listened, if he'd wanted 
to, but he didn't have the energy to deal with it.  Instead, he headed to the 
elevator and took it down to the parking garage.  He picked up a newspaper on 
his way back to the loft. 
  
<><><><><><><><><><> 
 
"Detective Ellison!" 
 
Jim started at the voice calling him as he walked the short distance between 
his truck and the front door of his building.  Turning, he was shocked to see 
a man with a microphone quickly making his way towards him, his cameraman in 
tow. 
 
"Detective Ellison, how does it feel to have been--" 
 
Jim shook his head in disbelief, tuning out the rest of what the man had to 
say in his haste to get into the safety of his loft and out of this world 
turned upside down. 
 
Arriving inside, he tossed his keys into the basket half-heartedly and 
collapsed onto the couch without even taking his shoes off.  The light on the 
answering machine was blinking, but he had no desire to listen to the 
messages.  Some masochistic tendency, though, made him lean over and hit the 
play button. 
 
The phrase "You have sixteen new messages" did nothing to improve his spirits. 
 
The first message was from Simon, then five from other officers--Jim skipped 
over those, he'd deal with them later.  One from Carolyn, thankfully offering 
her support, and Jim said a silent prayer to the god of understanding ex-
wives.  Michael called, *and* Gregory, giving their cell phone numbers and 
telling him to call.  Then Carolyn calling again, leaving *her* number in case 
he needed to reach her.  The bloody *mayor* called, of all people.  Jim 
skipped that one too, even though he knew it was probably important.  Blair's 
friend Kim from the university.  Stephen--Jim was definitely going to have to 
call *him* right back.  Simon calling again, asking where he was.  Michael 
again, asking where he was. 
 
The last call was from Blair. 
 
"Jim?  I know you're not home, man, but I can't deal with calling the station 
right now.  I'm, um, I'm staying with a friend tonight.  I think you know why.  
I am *not* leaving you...I just need time.  This is *so* not what I needed.  
Or you.  I'm here in my office right now if you need to call.  Don't know how 
much good I'll be, though.  Maybe this can wait until tomorrow.  I don't 
know...everything's just so fucked right now.  Do whatever you need to do.  
Bye." 
  
Jim closed his eyes and, for the first time in sixteen and a half years, felt 
tears slipping down his cheeks.  Slamming his hands against the coffee table 
so hard he almost broke them, he screamed "Fuck!" at the top of his lungs.  
Angrily scrubbing the tears from his face, he stared at the traitorous 
answering machine, wishing that smashing it to a pulp would do any good. 
 
A few long deep breaths and he'd gotten himself under some semblance of 
control, enough to dial the number for Blair's office before he could back 
down. 
 
"Blair Sandburg's office." 
 
Jim wondered how Blair could sound so calm and cheerful.   
 
"Blair?" 
 
"Jim!"  Jim heard Blair cover the receiver with his palm and tell someone 
named Diana that he needed to take this call alone. 
 
"Blair..." he repeated, at a loss for what to say. 
	 
"How are you holding up?" asked Blair hesitantly. 
 
"I'm not."  Jim paused and tried to pull his thoughts together.  When he spoke 
again, his voice sounded weak and tired.  "When...when are you coming home?" 
 
"I'm sorry," he said, and Jim could hear the quaver in his voice. "Jim, I 
can't..." 
 
"Blair, I *need* you!  You know I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it.  
Please?" 
 
"Jim...I can't...I mean.  People are already starting to talk.  My whole 
career's on the line here..." 
 
" I don't want to make you choose," he said carefully, the phone shaking in 
his hand.   
 
"Please, don't..." said Blair, his voice cracking.  "I can't...I want to be 
with you.  I don't know how to deal with this, not now.  Once my thesis is 
done, once I have tenure, then it doesn't matter.   I can't lose this...and I 
can't lose you." 
 
"Blair, you're talking years..." 
 
"Then what do I do?" 
 
"Come home," he said, his voice barely a whisper. 
 
"I...I was going to stay with Ryan and Rob tonight.  To try and sort this out.  
There were already reporters outside the loft when I left this morning." 
 
"They're still here," admitted Jim.  "Blair...people know you're staying here.  
It's not some big mystery and I'm *sorry* you're getting the fallout from 
this, but you just can't imagine what kind of day I've had, Blair.  You 
*can't*.  Not unless your name had been in that list too." 
 
Blair was silent for too long. 
 
"Blair?" 
 
"So," he said, trying to be casual but sounding more strained than Jim had 
ever heard him.  "Do you want me to pick up something for dinner?" 
 
Jim let out the breath that he had been holding, half a sob coming out with 
it.   
 
"Thank you." 
 
He could hear Blair sigh on the other end of the line.  "I can get out of here 
in...about half an hour.  Get Kim to cover my class." 
 
"I have some calls to make, myself," said Jim.  "I'll be waiting for you, 
Blair." 
 
"I'll be there.  I promise." 
 
Jim could hear the noise of someone else entering Blair's office. "I have to 
go." 
 
"I know." 
 
"Bye." 
 
"Bye." He held the receiver in his hand long after Blair had hung up.  "I love 
you," he whispered into the broken connection. 
  
The moment Jim set down the receiver the phone rang again.  He thought about 
picking it up, but decided to let the machine get it.  The way his day was 
going, his father had already gotten the news out in Chicago. 
 
"Hi, James.  You don't know me, but I'm the local president of the Gay, 
Lesbian and Bisexual Law Enforcement Officer's Association.  My name is Jacob 
Lansing.  If you could give me a call at 555-2337 we can set up a time to get 
together.  Thank you and I hope to talk to you soon." 
 
Jim groaned and stood up, pacing the living room.  He looked at the clock; 
only 3 minutes had gone by since he'd finished talking to Blair.  Taking a 
deep breath, he walked back over to the phone and sat down, dialing the number 
for Stephen's office. 
 
"Hi, Jim." 
 
Jim noted the cool tone in his brother's voice.   
 
"Hi, Stephen, I got your message." 
 
"I called as soon as I saw the paper.  Are you all right?" 
	 
Jim's breath caught in his throat and he didn't know whether to jump for joy 
or wait for the other shoe to drop.   
 
"All right?  Am I all right?  I...I'm holding it together, I guess." 
 
"Jim...I've seen these guys in action before.  They may be cruel, but  
they're honest.  Is there something you want to tell me?" 
 
Jim could almost see the expression on his brother's face.  "Guess there's no 
room for me in my closet anymore, huh.  Yeah, it's true." 
  
Stephen was quiet for a moment, and Jim pictured him thinking the whole idea 
over a time or three, trying to work it into his picture of his brother.   
 
"I'd wondered," he said finally. 
  
"You what?" 
 
"I'd wondered.  I know we never saw much of each other after...after what 
happened.  But...I don't know.  You're my brother.  I don't know what else to 
say." 
 
"Neither do I." 
 
"So you're not going to deny it?" 
 
"What's the point?  It's true, isn't it.  But damn it, this whole thing has 
hurt so many people already, and I can only imagine it getting worse."  Jim 
rested his head on his hand, the weight of the situation pressing down on him 
once again. 
 
"Well, if you need a good lawyer..." 
 
"I hope it doesn't come to that." 
 
"You sure you're doing all right?" 
 
"No, I'm *not* doing all right.  But I'm coping.  Trying to, anyway." 
 
"How's Blair taking it?" 
 
"Blair?" 
 
"Yeah.  You *are* together...aren't you?" 
 
Jim hesitated, struggling for the right words.  "Blair wasn't mentioned in the 
news, Stephen." 
 
"Blair wasn't Officer of the Year, now, was he?" 
 
"I'm not sleeping with Blair." 
 
"I see." 
 
"Thanks for calling, Stephen.  I've got about a dozen other calls to make...." 
 
"You know where to find me." 
 
"Yeah, thanks." 
 
"See you around." 
 
//One down// thought Jim as he hung up the phone.  Which immediately rang 
again.  This time he didn't even *think* of answering it.  He glanced at the 
clock--twenty minutes 'til Blair. 
 
Jim walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of cold coffee, popping 
it in the microwave to heat it up.  He tried to ignore the call, even though 
he could hear it clearly no matter where he was in the apartment.   It was 
just someone he knew from the service, and *not* someone he wanted to deal 
with any time soon.  Not someone he needed to deal with if he didn't want to. 
 
Reheated coffee in hand, he headed back to the phone and dialed Michael's 
number. 
  
"Jim, is that you?" 
 
"Yeah, it's me." 
 
"Where are you?" 
 
"At home." 
 
"I'll be there in five minutes.  Don't move a muscle." 
 
Jim started to protest, but Michael had already hung up.  In a way, he was 
relieved.  Michael would be cool about everything.  Michael would know what to 
do. 
 
A sound at the door drew Jim's attention...*and* his gun.   
 
"Who's there?" 
 
"Whoa, easy there, Jim!  It's just me!"  The sound of Blair's voice sent a 
jolt of relief through Jim's body. 
 
"Blair, you're early." 
 
"I cut office hours short and took off right away," he said.   He couldn't say 
another word before he was enveloped in Jim's arms. 
 
"I've already had a hell of a day and it's barely even started," he said, 
nuzzling Blair's hair.  "I'm glad you came home." 
 
"I think I am, too," said Blair, uncertainly.  "Jim...I've been *trying* to  
understand what you must be going through.  I really have.  And all I can 
think of is how hard this is...for me.  I'm sorry." 
 
"It's hard for *us*," said Jim. 
 
"A bunch of people were coming up to me at school...asking me why I didn't 
tell them.  And they weren't asking about you, Jim.  They were asking about 
me.  I'm...I'm not handling this very well." 
 
"Neither am I this time, Blair.  But whenever anyone asked...I said we weren't 
sleeping together.  I figured that's how you would want it." 
 
Blair hesitated.  "Maybe this morning, before we went out, that's how I would 
have wanted it.  But how long before people figure it out on their own? A day?  
An hour?  I'm outed as much as you are, Jim, even if my name isn't in print. 
You don't need to do that for me." 
 
"I would, if you needed me to." 
 
"I know, but when people came by today and asked...I told them, Jim.  I 
actually told people about us.  And then...that's when I started to get 
freaked.  I called Ryan and he said I could stay there if I needed some time.  
And then I called you.  I guess I fucked that one up, huh?" 
 
"I don't care right now if I can't tell a single person about you, Blair, but 
don't leave me right now.  I couldn't deal with that on top of everything 
else." 
 
"I didn't know what else to do." 
 
"Stay?" 
 
"I'm here, Jim." 
 
He tilted Blair's head up and kissed him as though their entire relationship 
depended on it.  Maybe it did.  Blair's hands came up to clutch the front of 
Jim's shirt and pulled him closer, gripping it so tightly his knuckles began 
to turn white.  When they finally drew apart, Jim was smiling.  "You know, 
that's the best thing that's happened to me all day." 
 
Blair leaned over and pulled something out of his backpack--the journal Jim 
had given him the night before.  "You know what?" he said.  "I was reading 
this last night.  And...in one part you said it was the worst time of your 
life.  Is that still true?" 
 
Jim nodded without hesitation.  "It was the hardest," he said.  "This, now.  
Well, it's *hell*.  But it's not as hard as coming out to myself in the first 
place." 
 
"We can talk about it...another time."  He fingered the book, then lay it down 
on the kitchen counter.  "Jim?" 
 
"Yeah?" 
 
"I love you, you know." 
  
Jim gripped Blair in another tight hug.  "I love you, too, Chief.  I love you 
too." 
 
Slowly he pulled Blair to the couch where they both sat down heavily.  The 
phone rang, and Blair looked surprised when Jim didn't bother answering.   
 
"It's not worth it," he explained, sighing.  "I don't want to talk to anyone 
right now." 
 
"Except me?" 
 
Jim smiled.  "That goes without saying." 
 
He reached out and turned the volume on the answering machine down before the 
message started so he wouldn't even have to hear it.  It wouldn't be anything 
that couldn't wait until he was good and ready to deal with it. 
 
"Blair?" 
 
Blair turned towards Jim's voice. 
 
"Is this really going to hurt your career?" 
 
Blair shifted uncomfortably.  "Well, no," he admitted.  "I don't know.  
Probably not.  Being, um, gay--or bisexual--at Rainier isn't much of a big 
deal.  But a lot of places it is." 
 
"Like at the station." 
 
Blair winced.  "I know it's harder for you, man.  I *know* that.  I just 
can't...*feel* it.  You know?  Like the subject is purely intellectual, even 
though you're sitting right next to me." 
 
Jim nodded, understanding...intellectually.  "I...did something kind of 
stupid," he admitted.  Blair looked wary.  "I lost my cool at the station." 
 
"Jim...what did you do?" 
 
"I...well, I made a bit of a declaration.  About me, not about us," he added 
quickly.  "Let's just say I'm now a self-declared bisexual, at least at the 
station.  It's not just a rumor or a name in a paper anymore." 
 
"Jim!" 
 
"I was scared and pissed off and ready to fight someone.  I did the only thing 
I could think to do."  He sighed.  "At least they know." 
 
"How are you going to go back to the station tomorrow?  Or ever?" 
 
"I wasn't thinking about that at the time." 
 
"Clearly." 
 
"Are you going to come with me?" 
 
Blair gaped at him.  "Are you kidding me?  I...I *can't*!" 
 
"I understand."  And he did understand *that* at least.  //God, what am I 
putting him through?// 
 
Blair blindly reached out to caress Jim's knee with his hand.  "I don't know 
what we're going to do, Jim.  How did this happen?  Who could have done this?" 
 
//Oh shit, he doesn't know!//  Jim shrugged, hating himself for what he was 
going to do.  "I haven't exactly been celibate, Blair.  There are people who 
know about me, people who should have been discrete, but weren't.  There were 
a lot of other names on that list too." 
 
"Who?" 
 
Jim looked at him blankly.  "You know, I have no idea.  I guess they just 
didn't register." 
 
Blair squeezed his knee gently.  "I wish I could do something to make it all 
better, but I can't.  I can't even make *me* better, let alone you." 
 
A knock at the door drew Jim's attention, and he got up to answer it.  Michael 
pushed his way through and wrapped his arms around Jim.  "I was worried about 
you, Jamie.  How are you holding up?" 
 
Jim glanced back at Blair.  "Better now that I'm not alone," he said. 
 
Michael looked up and, seeing Blair, let Jim go.  "Blair," he said, offering 
what he hoped wasn't a condescending smile.  "How are *you* doing?" 
 
"I'm fine," he answered shortly. 
 
Michael walked over to the couch.  "I'm serious," he said softly.  "Jim isn't 
the only one hit by this." 
 
The genuine concern in his voice relaxed him, a little.  "I'm no worse than I 
was yesterday, for what it's worth." 
 
Michael recognized that for the non-answer that it was, but didn't push.  "I 
called here as soon as I saw the paper; Gregory was in it, too." 
 
Jim was clearly startled.  Gregory *was* a prominent Cascade lawyer but it 
hadn't occurred to him until now that of course he'd be in there if anyone 
knew about it.  "Oh, man, I didn't even think...  I'm sorry." 
 
"It's all right; he has nothing to hide.  He runs his own firm and there are 
very few clients that didn't know already.  He was just worried about me, but 
I told him I could handle myself.  It was you two I was worried about, what 
with, you know, everything else that was happening around here." 
 
Jim nodded and went back to sit on the couch with Blair, putting an arm around 
his shoulders.  "Is this all right?" 
 
Blair looked at Michael, then nodded.   
 
"Yeah, it's all right." 
 
Jim squeezed his shoulder with one hand.  "Thank you."  He gave Blair a 
secret, shared smile then turned back to Michael.  "So what do you know about 
the group that did this? 
 
"Not much," he admitted.  "Gregory's working on it right now.  I just want to 
know what they were thinking?  Outing people *scares* more closeted gays than 
it helps.  They just never think about who they might be hurting."  He shook 
his head, his expression full of fury and hurt, even though he tried to make 
his voice reassuring. 
 
"I've seen it happen," said Jim.  "I just never thought..."  He let his voice 
trail off, the full weight of what had happened beginning to press on him.  It 
was bad enough to him; for Blair, it must be devastating, even though he 
hadn't been named.   Yet he'd never denied their relationship.  If that wasn't 
strength, he didn't know what was. 
 
"Neither did we.  It's...it's really fucking low, that's what it is."  He 
clenched his fists by his sides and tried to keep his cool.  "I just came by 
to make sure that you were all right," he said.  "Are you?" 
 
Blair and Jim looked at one another.  "I'm not sure," said Jim.  "I just don't 
want to deal with it right now." 
 
"Then don't," said Michael.  "Don't let them ruin your relationship along with 
everything else.  As a matter of fact, don't let them ruin *anything*." 
 
"I don't plan to," said Jim.  "Are those reporters still camped outside?" 
 
Michael rolled his eyes.  "Yes.  They're *all* coming out of the woodwork 
today.  Take my advice--anything you need to do, do it from in here.  
Otherwise they can get things out of you you *never* intended to give." 
 
"I wasn't planning on going anywhere." 
 
"All right," said Michael.  "I'm out of here.  Give me a call if you need 
anything, all right?  And I *mean* that.  Both of you." 
 
"Thanks," said Blair quietly. 
 
"Yeah," repeated Jim.  "Thanks." 
 
"Anytime."  He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and Jim listened 
to him descend. 
 
"What *are* we going to do?" asked Blair, shivering a little though it wasn't 
cold. 
 
He tried to look confident when he answered.  "We go on.  What else *can* we 
do?  God."  He rubbed his forehead.  "I never intended to come out.  Oh sure, 
to a few people, when I was ready.  When *we* were ready.  That choice was 
taken away from me." 
 
"From us, Jim." 
 
"It was taken away from us.  I'm just thankful there still *is* an us." 
 
"Jim...even if I had gone to stay with Rob and Ryan tonight, it wouldn't have 
meant that I was leaving you.   It just meant...that I wasn't ready.  I'm 
*not* ready.  God, Jim, I'm not *ready*.  I've only been with you for a week 
and *this* happens." 
 
"Whoa, whoa, easy, Blair."  Jim held him closer.  "It's going to be okay." 
 
"Easily said, Jim," he replied, holding his body still but not pulling away. 
 
Jim kissed the top of Blair's head.  "Let's forget about it for a little 
while.  The phone is off, the door is locked, and there's nowhere I have to be 
until tomorrow.  This might be our last day with any degree of normalcy to 
it." 
 
"I think that was yesterday." 
 
Jim nodded slowly.  "I'm sorry." 
 
"It's not your fault, I know that.  God, I can't even go somewhere to clear my 
head.  I can't even leave this apartment!" 
 
Jim ran a hand over his hair and stood up, pacing the floor in front of the 
couch.  "I need to get out of here, too," he said, thinking.  Then he grabbed 
Blair's hand and pulled him out of the apartment. 
 
"Jim, what the hell are you doing?" 
	 
"Shhhhhh."  Jim pulled him along to the end of the hall, and up the back 
stairs to the roof.  "We'll be alone up here," he said with a smile. 
 
Once Blair realized where they were headed, he almost beat Jim up there.   
 
"Tell me you left your cell phone behind." 
 
"I left *everything* behind...except you." 
	 
Blair immediately claimed the lone seat, and Jim sat on the roof next to him, 
not releasing his hand.  "I feel like I'm going crazy here." 
 
"It'll all settle down eventually," said Blair tentatively.  "These things 
always do." 
 
"They only seem like they do.  My life is changed now, for good." 
	 
"Our life, Jim." 
 
"Our life," he repeated, almost apologetically.  "When we started to get 
together--when everything started between us--I never expected that I would 
put you through this.  I never imagined that it could happen." 
	 
"Who does?  Who *ever* imagines that their life is going to be turned upside 
down?"  Jim knew that Blair was talking about a lot more than the outing.  A 
*whole* lot more. 
 
"How much of my journal did you read?" he asked. 
 
Blair thought about it.  "About half, I think."  He smiled a little 
sheepishly.  "I wanted to read all of it, but I was just dead tired." 
 
"I didn't *expect* you to read it all," said Jim with surprise.  "I thought 
you'd get about a quarter of the way through and decide to ditch it forever." 
 
"Come on," said Blair, closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair wearily.  
"I've always wanted to know all about you.  And you know what?  *That* part of 
my inquiry was never about the dissertation at all." 
 
He was speechless.  "I...I never really thought about that." 
 
"Yeah, Jim, I really *needed* your ATM number to write about Sentinels." 
	 
He actually chuckled a little.  "No, you needed it to pick up dinner on the 
way home.  What, you didn't think I'd notice or something?"  He released 
Blair's hand and threw his arm around his shoulders.  "Blair...we need to talk 
about this.  Seriously and rationally." 
 
"Not yet." 
	 
"Then when?  This has happened, Blair.  There isn't anything we can do about 
that now." 
 
"Jim, just stop.  Please.  I can't deal with this.  I wasn't exaggerating when 
I said that.  I.  Can't.  Deal.  With.  This.  Yes, I know that it has 
happened and that it is over with now, and we have to deal with it or go 
under.  Just give me some time.  And hour, a day, whatever you can spare me.  
Then I'll try--but give me that time.   Please." 
 
"What do you need, Blair?" 
	 
"What do I *need*?  I don't know.  I guess I can't ask you to just sit there, 
huh." 
 
"Just sit here and hold you?  I could do that." 
 
"That's not what I meant.  I'm just...you know how I usually have to catch up 
to my brain?"  Jim grinned knowingly.  "Well, my brain wants to just be with 
you--the rest of me is a little more nervous." 
 
Jim squeezed his shoulder.  "Let me know when the two come to some sort of 
decision, all right?" 
 
Blair turned to Jim and kissed him tenderly.  
 
"I guess screaming my head off isn't an option right now.  Damn it's bright 
out here.  Is it lunchtime yet?  Can I take a nap?" 
 
"Huh?" 
	 
Blair kissed him again.  "My mind is swirling, and it just won't stop." 
 
"You're not the only one.  I just...I'm trying Blair, and I can't stop 
thinking about it." 
 
Blair closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.   
 
"This is just...I don't think it's hit yet.  Hell, I'm still working on what 
was going on *before* all of this.  You know what?" 
 
"What?" 
 
"I was going to sleep with you tonight.  I really wanted it, to be there in 
your arms all night.  Peacefully.  I guess there isn't going to be any peace 
around here for a while."  He sighed.  "Now I don't know what I want to do." 
 
"What do you mean?  Has all of this...has it changed what you feel for me?" 
 
"No!  No, that's not what I meant.  I just meant...that it would be different 
now.  That it wouldn't happen the way it does in my mind.  You won't fall 
asleep holding me; you'll toss and turn and worry all night." 
 
Jim shook his head.  "No, I wouldn't.  Hell, by dinnertime I'll probably be so 
stressed out that I'll pass out for the night.  I promise you, if I can, I'll 
make everything the way you want it to be." 
 
"Jim, you can't and you know it.  But....well, we'll see what happens, all 
right?" 
 
He looked at his watch.  "God.  It's eleven.  *A.M.*."  He let his head rest 
in his hand.  "I don't think there's ever been a day this long before." 
 
"Jim, about that journal..." 
 
Jim looked up at the mention.  "What about it, Chief?" 
 
"There's something I wanted to...no, now's not the time." 
	 
Jim nodded slowly.  "I think I know what you're getting at," he said.  "It's 
okay...I'm okay with all that now.  It was a long time ago; you can ask if you 
want." 
 
"How did it...I mean, you only wrote that one line.  I must've read it ten 
times, trying to figure out what had happened. I just couldn't imagine it." 
 
"How did it happen?" prompted Jim, sighing.  "It just...it wasn't a good time 
in my life.  No, that's an understatement--it was a very bad time.  I didn't 
have anyone to talk to about what I was feeling, and my home life left a lot 
to be desired.  Dad was ragging on us pretty badly then, both Stephen and I.  
My grades were slipping, I was letting everything go...." 
 
He tried not to tense up, but the memory was still painful, even after all 
this time.   
 
"My dad kept a gun collection, in his den.  It was easy to just go in there 
and take one of them and...I guess you know the rest.  I chickened out at the 
last second...the bullet just grazed my skull.  I didn't try again." 
 
"God, Jim.  I don't know what to say." 
 
"Just tell me that you're dealing with this better than that." 
  
Blair choked out a surprised laugh.  "God, yes.  I mean...I'm having a hard 
time with this, Jim, but even I know that eventually it'll be okay.  I have 
you, and I have friends, and I have a life to fall back on.  Just hearing 
that..." 
 
"I didn't show that journal to you to hurt you--" started Jim. 
 
"You didn't hurt me." 
 
"I didn't show it to you to get sympathy either." 
	 
"I know." 
 
"Blair...I've never told anyone about that before.  No one." 
 
"Yeah, I know that too." 
 
"I told you because..." 
 
"Why, Jim?  I want to know.  I really do."  The look in Blair's eyes was 
absolutely sincere. 
 
"I don't know if I should say this..." 
 
Blair didn't have to coax it out, all it took was a look. 
 
"Blair, you're the only person that I've trusted in a very long time and I 
value that more highly than anything.  I love you, and I *don't* say that 
easily.  I want to be with you, no matter what.  You're the one.  Period." 
 
Blair was silent for a moment.  "Wow," he said.  "I...that's...wow." 
 
"I was right...I shouldn't have said anything." 
	 
"No, you should have.  And you did.  Jim...I guess everything's sort of...our 
emotions are running so damn high.  We're all saying things and doing things 
that we might not have otherwise.  And it's not a bad thing, you know?" 
 
"It's a bad thing if it scares you away." 
	 
"I'm not scared." 
 
"I'm...glad."  Jim sighed,  realizing how much he had just put on the line. 
 
"Everything changes now," said Blair quietly.  "Everything.  My life.  Your 
life.  Everyone we know and everything we do.  Me." 
 
"Admit it, Blair.  You're never going to change." 
 
Blair smiled.  "Let's go back in before they start flying choppers over us 
trying to get some pics, man.  I've had my taste of fresh air now, and I am 
not on display." 
 
Jim's face fell.  "I never meant for you to be involved in this.  I never 
expected any of it." 
 
"No, Jim, listen.  I've been thinking about this.  Really thinking.  If you 
meant to get involved with me, then you meant to get me involved.  You just 
never knew what getting me involved would be.  Don't feel bad.  If it wasn't 
what I wanted, then I could pack my things and move out this afternoon.  I'm 
not going to do that." 
 
"Thank you," whispered Jim.  "Thank God," he added, so quietly Blair couldn't 
hear. 
 
It was Blair who led the way off their rooftop hideaway and back into the 
loft, taking Jim by the hand.  It felt nice to be holding Jim's hand in his, 
to feel its roughness and its warmth.  To know that this was someone who would 
never let him down.  He could never rely on any of his girlfriends that much, 
and that was what was making all of this a little easier than it might have 
been. 
 
"I have some stuff I need to do today," admitted Blair once they were back 
inside.  "I couldn't just take off for the day without any repercussions." 
 
Jim was actually relieved that Blair had something to be doing, and suddenly 
remembered the files that he, himself, had put together to bring home with him 
right before that fateful little declaration. 
 
"That's okay," he said, kissing Blair's cheek.  "I have stuff to do, too."  As 
he watched Blair duck into his bedroom, he prayed to his God, and every other, 
that they would somehow get through this day intact. 
 
<><><><><><><><><><> 
 
Jim woke up with a kink in his neck and his face smushed at an odd angle 
against a counterfeiting case file. 
 
His brain-fog dissipated enough for him to realize that it was still daylight-
-he glanced at the clock and saw that it was after six.  //Must've been more 
stressed than I realized// he thought, stretching a little in his seat and 
feeling his joints pop. 
 
Blair peeked out of his room at the first sounds of Jim waking.  As the cop 
roused further, he noticed a soft wool blanket on the floor, one that his 
roommate must have lain over him.  He turned to Blair and smiled.   
 
"Hi," he said, a little sleepily. 
 
"How are you doing?"  Blair's voice was soft, as though he was still trying to 
wake him. 
 
"I don't know," said Jim honestly, as his mind went into instant replay of 
their day.  "Guess it feels a little better now.  How about you?" 
 
"I got a lot done this afternoon," he said.  "I actually think I'm caught up 
with notes for my class.  Even got a couple of articles read." 
 
"Well, um, that's great." 
 
"And...I took down all the answering machine messages." 
 
"You did?" 
 
"Yeah...why didn't you tell me they were that bad?" 
 
"Blair?"  Jim was instantly up off the couch and walking towards his partner.  
"What do you mean 'bad'?" 
 
"I deleted them, I didn't want you to have to listen to them.  Just...hate, 
man.  Just hate." 
 
"Shit." 
 
"You think we should get a new number?  Unlisted?" 
 
"That might not be a bad idea," he admitted.  "I'll do it first thing in the 
morning.  No reason to put up with this any longer than we have to.  Anything 
important?" 
 
"Simon called...he wants you to call him at home." 
 
"At home?" confirmed Jim. 
 
"Yeah.  At home." 
 
Jim shrugged.  "I'll get to it later.  Probably wants to know if I managed to 
make any headway on these cases.  Or wants to tell me I don't have a job." 
 
Blair shook his head.  "No way, man.  Simon would fight for you tooth and 
nail--you're the best man he's got." 
 
"You didn't see him today." 
	 
"I didn't have to," persisted Blair. 
 
Jim didn't push.  "Guess it's the cases, then." 
 
"You know, Jim, maybe he just wants to talk." 
 
"I repeat--you didn't see him today.  I'm the last person he wants to chat 
with.  Anything else?" 
 
"Call Carolyn," said Blair immediately.  "The rest of 'em are written down."  
 
"All right."  Hesitating only a moment, he took Blair into his arms and held 
him tight.  "Blair...God, I need you so much right now.  Can we do this?" 
 
"Yes," said Blair, which was almost the last thing that Jim had been expecting 
to hear.  "Yes, we can.  About time you started talking about 'we'." 
 
"We?  But I always think about our partnership..." 
 
"Not that kind of we, Jim.  As in, you're finally thinking about this as a 
situation that affects us, not you or me.  I lied before--I didn't get any 
work done this afternoon, hardly.  I just sat there and watched you and 
thought about everything." 
 
"And?" 
 
Blair took a deep breath.  "And I'm bisexual.  Okay, fine, lots of people are, 
I can deal with that.  *Have* been dealing with that.  And now I'm bisexual 
and out.  Okay, not something I was ready for, but something that I can deal 
with.  Eventually.  But this whole sensationalism, media circus deal.  That's 
our problem.  That's the thing that I can't control and deal with." 
 
"So you're okay with being with me?" 
 
"Oh, Jim.  I've always been okay with being with you.  It hasn't been easy for 
me to accept this about myself, but I never left.  Every single moment I've 
been here, I've been making the decision to stick with you." 
 
"I love you," said Jim, kissing him passionately. 
 
"Yeah," whispered Blair.  "It's been a long day."  Jim pulled away for a 
moment and seemed to be staring off into space.  "Jim? ... Jim, what are you 
thinking?" 
 
"I was just...a week ago, you didn't even know.  You didn't even *know*!" 
 
Blair started chuckling.  Moments later, he was in hysterics.  Jim looked at 
him like he was crazy for a moment, then broke down and started laughing too.  
They kept it up for a good fifteen minutes, before collapsing on the floor, 
exhausted.  Blair rolled over, almost on top of Jim, and kissed him lightly.   
 
"I don't care if it's only seven," whispered Jim.  "Please, Blair, come to bed 
with me." 
 
"Take me." 
 
Jim took him at his word, picking Blair up off the floor and carrying him up 
the stairs, refusing to grunt even though Blair was heavier than he looked.  
Blair's face was buried in his lover's neck, nibbling at the exposed flesh; 
Jim barely made it up the stairs.  He set Blair down carefully and lay next to 
him, pulling the covers up over the both of them, still clothed.  They next 
couple of hours were filled with kisses and nuzzles and awkward gropes, until 
Jim insistently tried to pull Blair's shirt up to expose his skin. 
 
"Jim," whispered Blair, pushing him away slightly.  "Not that, not yet.  
Please?" 
 
Jim's took what he could get, kissing Blair's neck again holding him close.  
"All right," he said.  "Rest, love.  Tomorrow's another day." 

 
<<<<< END PART II >>>>>