Title: Fit 3
Author: Grey
Fandom: THE SENTINEL
Pairing: Jim and Blair
Rating: NC-17
Date: July 2002
Series: Yes, third in the Fit series
Archive: Yes
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net

Summary: Jim must deal with both jealousy and repercussions from his past when a brutal murder hits close to home.

Notes: I'd like to thank XFreak for all her support. Without her continuing friendship, this wouldn't have been written.

Warnings: This is an AU in which Jim runs his own security agency and Blair is still in college. Jim is 26 and Blair 18, but they've been together for two years in an established relationship. You don't have to read Fit 1 and 2 to understand this one, but it would help you understand the dynamics of their time together if you did.

Fit 3
by Grey
Grey853@aol.com

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and turned from the frosted window to find his lover's worried eyes trained in his direction. "It's barely six o'clock. You should still be in bed."

"So should you." Blair paused on the bottom of the stairs and then stepped closer, his palm on Jim's bare chest. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You've been saying that for weeks."

Turning away, Jim walked to the kitchen and got down two mugs. He pushed against his own weariness, his arms heavy with fatigue. "You worry too much."

"That's rich coming from you."

Jim poured the coffee and brought both mugs to the table before he sat down. "It's just a bad stretch right now. It'll pass. It always does."

"This has happened before? All these nightmares?"

"Right after Peru."

Blair settled in the chair across from him. Pushing back his wild curls, he studied Jim with earnest. "But you got better, right?"

"For awhile, yeah."

"So you've had this problem since Peru?"

"Once or twice." Jim sipped his coffee, avoiding his lover's stare. "It goes away, Chief. I'll be fine as soon as all this mess with Winston is cleared up."

"I don't think Winston or the job has much to do with it."

"It's just stress."

"Maybe, but you've had stress before and you've never screamed in your sleep. It scares me."

Reaching out, Jim took Blair's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's nothing I can't handle, babe. I promise."

"I think you should see someone about this."

Pulling away, Jim snapped. "A shrink? I told you before, Sandburg, that's not going to happen."

"Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn about this, Jim? You've been going on fumes for weeks now. You keep saying it's going to get better, but it hasn't. If anything, it's gotten worse. Last night you didn't sleep but a couple of hours, tops. I'm just worried, that's all. We've been together for two years and I've never seen you like this, never. You need help, man, and it's not a sin to admit that."

Standing, Jim returned to the sink and rinsed out the mug without speaking. After a few moments, he turned and leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed. "Talking to someone's not going to help."

"How do you know that if you don't try?"

"Because I did try."

"When?"

"Right after the army pulled me out of the jungle. I had a whole battery of shrinks and it was all bullshit. All of it. I won't go through that again." He paused, his words more hushed. "I can't."

Blair got up and came to stand next to Jim, wrapping his arms around his middle before resting his head on his chest. "I love you. It tears me up to see you this freaked out."

Combing his fingers through the soft curls, Jim closed his eyes. He drank in the unique fragrance of his lover as he whispered, "I'm not freaked out, babe. I swear it'll get better."

"What if it doesn't?"

"It will." Jim kissed the top of Blair's head and then pushed him towards the bathroom. "Now go get a shower and get dressed. I'll fix us some pancakes and eggs."

Blair shook his finger at Jim in temporary defeat. "Don't think we're through with this. You can't distract me with food, you know."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Chief. I'm just hungry."

Moving in closer, Blair ground his crotch into Jim's. "I'm hungry, too, man, but not for breakfast. It's been awhile. Shower first, pancakes later?"

His cock lifting, Jim's body flushed with need. He kissed Blair's neck, his skin salty and soft against his lips. "I've missed this."

Blair turned his face up, meeting Jim's mouth eagerly, his tongue darting in and out before he pulled away. "Upstairs or in the shower?"

"Slick and soapy works for me."

A hand snaked to Jim's cock, the strokes like sweet, forbidden candy in the dark. "Clean me inside out, man."

Jim groaned as he followed Blair to the bathroom, his desire burning away the midnight fears calling his name.

Blair sat down at the kitchen table gingerly, but with a smile. "You okay there, Chief?"

"You don't hear any complaints."

Flushing bright red, Jim grinned and shrugged. "Hope I wasn't too rough."

"You were great. I like switching sometimes."

"But you're sore."

"It's a good sore, man. Don't worry about it. You get too rough to handle, I'll let you know." Blair put down his coffee, his face serious again. "You needed that as much as I did."

"No denying that."

"I'm glad."

Jim noted the sad tone and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"It's been three weeks. I was beginning to wonder..."

"Wonder what?"

"Wonder if maybe you were tired of me or something."

Jim snorted and leaned in, clasping Blair's right hand between his own. "Don't ever think that, baby. That's never going to happen. I've just had a lot on my mind, that's all. It's not you. It's me." He lifted the younger man's hand and kissed the palm, the hint of fresh soap mixed with the lingering scent of their lovemaking tickling his nose.

"I know." Blair cupped Jim's cheek tenderly before their lips met. Pulling back, Blair's dark blue eyes met his. "I couldn't stand it if you ever wanted to leave me."

"What brought this on?"

"You haven't touched me in weeks, Jim. I guess with all these late nights at work and the nightmares, well, my brain just goes all wiggy."

"Wiggy is right. I love you. Always will. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't. I'm just being stupid."

"You're not stupid." Jim sat back, his mind reviewing the disturbing number of times when Blair belittled himself. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Put yourself down all the time. It pisses me off."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just cut it out."

"Habit, I guess. It's just sometimes I feel really dumb about shit."

"You're not dumb. Just young."

"So you keep reminding me."

Jim stood up, irritation clouding his earlier contentment. "Look, drop it. I've got to get to work."

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad, just tired."

"I know. I'm sorry. Why don't we do the dishes and head out? I've got an early appointment with Eli."

With a stab of annoyance, Jim crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. Anger swelled his chest. He'd met the man once and once was more than enough. "He lets you call him Eli? Sounds awfully chummy."

Ignoring Jim's irritated tone, Blair brought his dishes to the sink, his voice neutral. "I told you last week, he likes to be called Eli. It's no big deal."

"Does he let his other students call him Eli?"

Biting his lower lip, Blair shook his head. "What's your point, man?"

"No point. I just don't like you hanging around with the guy so much. You've got other classes but all I ever hear about is wonderful Eli Stoddard, god's gift to the fucking world."

"Jesus, Jim, you're being an asshole."

"I just don't like him."

"You don't even know him."

"But you do, right? Too damn well if you ask me."

Taking a deep breath, Blair finished rinsing the plate and changed the subject. "When are you going to be home for dinner? Should I fix something?"

"Depends. Can Stoddard spare you?"

"Damn it, man, stop it. There's nothing going on between Eli and me. He's my professor. He's helping me with some research and some papers. He might even be able to get me on the expedition for this summer."

"Let me guess. It's an expedition with him, right?"

"He's the best in his field. It's got nothing to do with what you're thinking."

"He's a dirty old man who wants to fuck you, Sandburg, that's what I'm thinking. You just don't see it because you're so fucking naive."

"I'm not naive, Jim. I know when a man wants me and you're right. Eli does find me attractive, but so the fuck what? It doesn't mean a thing because I love you, not Eli Stoddard."

Blair threw the dish towel on the counter and turned to walk away. Jim grabbed his arm and pulled him back, resistance brief before the smaller man settled against him. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm being an asshole."

"You piss me off when you do this."

"Forgive me?"

Pushing away enough to look up and meet his eyes, Blair sighed. "You have to stop this shit, man. Lots of men appreciate the view, I know that. You know that. None of that matters. What matters is I only want you."

"I know. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I get crazy sometimes." Jim petted back the dark curls and drank in the strong features of the young man he loved. "I just worry you'll grow up and won't need me anymore."

"I grew up a long time ago. I'll always need you." Blair palmed Jim's chest, the heat like a fever. "What do I have to do to convince you?"

"Be patient."

"I have been, but you've got no reason to be jealous."

"I know that in my head, but my heart, well, it's a stubborn bastard."

"Fits the rest of the package then, huh?"

"Unfortunately."

Blair shook his head and then traced his finger along Jim's lower lip, the touch inviting. Jim kissed him, their tongues wrestling before he pulled away. "We need to get going."

Reluctantly, Blair stepped to the door and got his leather jacket. "You didn't say when you'd be home tonight."

"Call me when you get back from school. I've got no idea how long it's going to take to sort out this whole deal with Winston today."

"You going to fire him?"

"I haven't decided. I have to hear his side of the story first. It's a mess."

"You know what Tim would say."

Jim chuckled at the thought of his former partner's colorful language. "No doubt he'd tell him to cut off his fucking dick and stop being a horse's ass with the clients."

"No doubt." Blair paused as he pulled on his woolen cap. "Have you heard from Tim lately?"

"No. Why?"

"I don't know. Just wondered."

Hugging Blair, Jim whispered, "It's not your fault, Blair."

"I know, but I can't help but feel guilty. He saved my life and now he's in a fucking wheelchair, maybe forever."

"It wasn't anything you did."

"But it sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

Stepping back, Jim grabbed his heavy, grey wool coat. "You want me to drop you at the university?"

"I can catch the bus."

"I know, but my truck's faster and it's free."

"Sure, okay." Blair stepped to the sofa and got his backpack.

"You need a car."

Shaking his head, Blair shouldered his pack. "We've had this discussion, man. You're not buying me a car."

"But it'd be so much easier. You'd always have a ride and I wouldn't have to worry about you standing out in the cold waiting for some drafty, old bus."

"We can't afford it."

"Sure we can. The company's doing pretty well now. We can swing it, and the insurance, too."

As they stepped to the door, Blair kissed him gently. "Thanks, Jim, but no thanks."

"Why not?"

"I told you before, I want to buy my first car for myself."

"That could take awhile."

"Thanks, man. The vote of confidence is appreciated."

"I'm just saying, you're on a limited budget. I don't get why you won't let me help."

Moving to the hallway, waiting for Jim to lock the door, Blair kept his voice even. "You already do more than your share. You pay all the bills as it is."

"You won't let me pay for school."

Blair put his hand on Jim's back. "Jim, listen. I appreciate the offer. I do. It's just I like to have a little independence, too. You understand that, right?"

Grudgingly, Jim nodded. "I just don't want to see you do without, that's all. I've got this friend with a used car lot and we could get a great deal."

"Let me think about it."

"Seriously? You'll think about it?"

"Don't be so shocked. Besides, I'd only do it if you'd let me pay you back."

"Chief..."

"I mean it. If I get a car, you're going to have to let me pay you back or I'm not even going to consider it."

"God, you're stubborn."

Blair laughed as they waited for the elevator. "What can I say, man? I learned from the best."

"Verify the Burton notations and you're ready to start the first draft." Stoddard sat back from his desk and took off his reading glasses as he handed over the notes. "Good job, Blair. Excellent detail."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

"No problem." Stoddard ran a hand through his short, sun-bleached hair. He stood up and walked to the window, his lean body moving easily despite the tight jeans. Dark blue eyes scanned the winter landscape briefly before turning. He leaned against the file cabinet, his handsome face suddenly more serious. "So, you're still determined to go forward with this sentinel thing?"

"Sure. Is that a problem?"

"Not for me. It's just that the subject's pretty obscure. Don't get me wrong. You've done a great job with the resources you've used, but I just don't want you to get stuck with something that could be a real pain in the ass down the line."

Blair frowned. He shook his head in confusion. "How's that?"

"You've got limited available documentation. Granted, it's an intriguing idea, but a bit unconventional. You're going to need a hell of a lot more research to go much further. An actual test subject wouldn't hurt, either." He paused, his head tilting slightly. "Any particular reason why you're so obsessed with this sentinel thing?"

"I'm not obsessed."

"I'd say doing almost every optional paper on sentinels is pretty damn obsessed. I'm not ragging on you. I'm just curious."

"It's a fascinating area, that's all." Blair slipped his papers into his backpack and pushed his hair back out of his face. Stoddard's observations concerned him, but he didn't want to think about the obstacles, only the payback for helping Jim. Smiling, he redirected the subject. "Besides, it gives me an excuse to use the restricted sections of the library."

"You mean where they keep all the dirty pictures?"

"Dirty's in the mind of the beholder."

Eli laughed as he sat back down at his desk. "And my mind's pretty damn dirty. How about yours?"

Grinning, Blair flushed and avoided the playful stare. "Just average."

"No need for any help then?"

"Help with what?"

"Well, you've got Jim, right? You don't really need any erotic pictures to get going. You've got the real thing."

The direct mention of his personal life surprised him. Skin hot, Blair met Stoddard's eyes. "We probably shouldn't talk about that."

"Why not?"

"I'm just not comfortable, that's all. Jim doesn't like me talking about our private life..."

"With strangers?"

"With anyone." Blair swallowed hard, choosing his words carefully. "You're not a stranger, Eli. I appreciate the fact that you've been really great about not being weird about Jim and me."

"It'd be a little hard to be weird about it, when I'm gay myself."

"I know that. It's just that with the age thing, we've always kept a low profile."

"But you're 18 now. You're legal in every state. It's not really an issue anymore."

"Maybe not, but some people might still try to make it one. Jim's got a business. He's lost clients over this. Hell, he even lost his partner."

"Really? Damn. I didn't realize."

"Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"No, it's okay. I understand. It's just that if you ever did want to talk about it, I'm here. I've been lucky."

More comfortable, Blair settled back in his chair. "How long have you been out?"

"Almost from the beginning. I think being an academic and an anthropologist helps. People expect us to be a little different." He smiled, his mellow voice adding a sweet buzz to the words. "I have to admit, being successful helps. They can't fuck you over as quickly if you've got a federal grant or a hefty book deal. Still, there are always going to be assholes who want us out of the picture completely, people like John Waverly, for instance."

"I've heard he's a real homophobe."

"You heard right. We served on a couple of committees together. Prick back-stabbed me every chance he got. Son of a bitch wanted to cancel the Australian exchange program."

"How come?"

"Because I sponsored it. The man has some serious issues. Nobody can hate gays that much without craving some ass candy himself."

"You think most homophobes are closet cases?"

"Without a doubt. It's been my experience that once you get past all the macho and pseudo-moralistic bullshit, that's what it's all about, insecurity about one's own sexuality."

Blair frowned, his thoughts taking a serious turn. "I guess I've been lucky, but Jim's had to deal with it a few times."

"Yeah, when?"

"In business. Plus, the military was kind of hard on him."

"I can imagine. All that male bonding."

Stoddard's teasing tone bothered him, made his skin itch with irritation. "It wasn't like that, man. Can you imagine having to hide so much of yourself, having to be on guard all the time? And then when he got out, he hooked up with me, and then he had to start hiding all over again because I was too young. It sucked. It still does sometimes."

"How so?"

"Jim's business. He doesn't hide the gay thing, but like I said, we keep a low profile as a couple."

"And that bothers you?"

"Shouldn't it?"

"I'm asking you. Sounds to me like there's something else going on that's bothering you more."

Startled at the keen observation, Blair met the concerned gaze. "No, I'm fine. Really."

"Who are you trying to convince, me or you?" Eli sat back, his hands behind his head as he kept his sight directed at Blair. "You've been edgy for a few weeks now. Anything I can help with?"

Uneasy, Blair shook his head, his eyes averted. "Not really."

"Is it Jim? You two having problems?"

"Nothing like that. We're fine."

"But?"

Blair leaned in, his hands together and resting on the desk. "What do you know about PTSD?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?" Puzzled, Eli put his arms down and studied Blair closely before he spoke. "Is that why Jim left the army?"

Instead of answering, Blair asked again, "What do you know about it? I mean, I've read some books and articles, but it's all kind of confusing."

"That's because we don't know as much as we should. It's one of those conditions that affects people in different ways. Some people are quite functional with periodic episodes of symptoms. Others are pretty much crippled by it."

Disheartened, Blair sighed. "Yeah, that's what I read, too."

"So, what's going on with Jim that's got you so worried?"

"I probably shouldn't talk about it."

"Anything you say is confidential. I know I'm not your shrink, but I do like to think of myself as your friend. So, what's going on?"

"Thanks, Eli, but it's personal. I don't think Jim would appreciate me talking about him, especially about this."

"Is he at least seeing someone?"

"I wish."

"He won't even consider it?"

"He hates shrinks."

"Doesn't everybody?" Eli's joking tone softened. "Seriously, Blair. If he's got PTSD, he needs help. It doesn't just go away because he doesn't want to deal with whatever happened to him."

"I know, but Jim can be a little stubborn sometimes."

"Maybe he just needs to relax a little bit." Stoddard paused and then smiled. "What would Jim say if I invited you two for dinner at my place?"

Stunned by the prospect of disaster, Blair stalled. "He's been really busy lately. There's this big crisis at work."

"It doesn't have to be tonight. I was thinking this weekend. Surely the man lets you out to socialize sometime."

"I appreciate the offer, man, but this really isn't a good time."

Nodding, Eli frowned knowingly. "He hates me."

"What? Of course, not. He doesn't know you."

"You don't lie worth shit, Sandburg. I'm betting he's not the least bit happy that you're spending so much time with good old Eli."

"Jim supports whatever I do, man." Blair stood up, his nerves rattled by the bull's eye concerning Jim's feelings. "I've got to go. I'll ask Jim about dinner. Saturday night okay?"

"Fine by me."

Stopping by the door, Blair paused. "I'll call and let you know."

"Sure. Bet you ten bucks he says no."

Blair frowned as he walked out, knowing full well he'd lose the bet.

"You want to tell me what happened between you and Angela Phillips or should I fire you right now?"

"You can't fire me, Ellison. Not over some stupid shit like this." Omar Winston fumed, his chest puffed up, his anger too near the surface. "The girl liked what she saw and so did I. She's eighteen and prime, man. Her daddy's got no right controlling who she sees."

Jim sighed and fought to keep a professional composure. Tim always took care of personnel problems better than he did. Without Tim, he got stuck on the front lines and he hated it. Still seated, he kept his eyes on a seriously agitated Omar. "Her father pays us for security, Winston. He's a client. As long as he is and you're working on site, his daughter should be off limits."

"Why? It's not like I'm sleeping with him."

"Are you sleeping with the Phillips girl?"

"Isn't that what this is all about, me sleeping with Angie?" Winston shook his head, his dark face even more shadowed with temper. "Her old man doesn't like his baby girl being with a black man. Tell me you don't think that's the case."

"It doesn't matter."

"What the fuck do you mean, it doesn't matter?"

Jim slowed his breathing, keeping his voice level. "I mean, it's about the fact that as long as Phillips pays his bill, we don't fuck with his family. It's as simple as that."

"That's bullshit."

"Maybe, but if you want to keep your job, you follow the rules. If you don't, then you can quit and date whomever you please. Then you can tough it out with Phillips on your own."

Winston paced the office, his hand rubbing the back of his head in frustration. "It didn't say nothing in my contract about who I could date."

"I know that. But in the beginning, I thought I made it clear that we keep a professional distance between ourselves and the clients and that includes the client's families."

"You didn't fire Jerry over Clarise Williams."

"There's a difference. Jerry stopped seeing Clarise until we finished that project. Mr. Williams hired his own staff. All we did was install the cameras and alarms. Afterwards, Jerry was free to see her again and even marry her as the case may be."

"So you're saying I either have to stop seeing Angie or quit? That's fucked, man."

"Call it what you want, but I don't want to lose Phillips as a client. He's one of our largest accounts."

"So the bucks talk over what's right? I thought you were better than that."

Jim sat back, his hand to his mouth briefly, his mind wildly running over all the possible solutions. His choices were limited. Finally, he cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Phillips made it clear he doesn't want his daughter dating one of the men who guards his estate. What if I moved you over to another site? That would limit your contact with his daughter at home. Maybe I could convince him that what his daughter does off the grounds is up to her."

"You'd do that?"

"If I can. Look, Winston, you're a good man. I don't want to lose you, but you've stepped over the line with Angie during the job. You know that and I know that. We've got it on video for christsakes."

"She's the one who started it."

"Whoever started it, it's unprofessional. On top of that, dating her and disrespecting Phillips when he called you on it, well, it puts me in a really tough position. I want to help you out, but you've got to give me a little help here."

Winston settled into the chair across from Jim, his face still broody, but more composed. "Angie's cool. I like her. You can move me if you want, but I'm still going to see her, man, no matter what Phillips says. You going to fire me if he still says I can't see her?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll have to wait and see what Phillips says about it."

"He's not going to be happy, man, because we both know it's got nothing to do with me guarding his shit."

Sadly, Jim agreed, but didn't say so out loud. "I'll phone Kramer and have you two switch places. I'll talk to Phillips this afternoon. I've got an appointment at four."

"I'm sorry, man, about putting you in the middle and all, but I really do like her. A lot. I ain't just playing."

"I can see that, Omar." Jim paused, studying the serious features of his employee. "Go on over to the Charles site and let Kramer brief you before he leaves."

"How much should I worry about losing my job?"

Keeping his voice steady, his resolve suddenly strengthened. "Just make sure she's worth it and that I don't regret keeping your ass."

"You won't, man, I promise."

"Send Leslie in and then take off."

"Sure thing. And thanks, man."

A few moments later, a young lady no more than thirty walked in. She pushed back her dark, curly hair and smiled. "Hey, Jim. What's up?"

"I need you to call Kramer and tell him his schedule's flipped with Winston's. If he's got a problem with that, have him call in."

"Is that how you're going to play this?"

Jim glanced up into sparkling green eyes, her bright expression reminding him of Blair on a good day. He fought down an urge to call his lover and focused on his secretary instead. "Why? You got an opinion on this like everyone else?"

"Well, we're all kind of batting for true love, you know. Even straight love's better than no love."

"It's probably just hormonal rebellion."

Leslie laughed and shook her head. "Cynic. Besides, the girl's eighteen. Daddy's just being overprotective, if not a little bit bigoted, which is sort of like being a little bit pregnant, not that I'll ever know what the hell that feels like. Thank god." She took a deep breath as she rubbed her flat belly and then jotted down Kramer's name. "Anything else?"

Jim shook his head and then rubbed his temples. "We got any aspirin?"

"Got a headache?"

"A pounder."

"You do look a little frayed around the edges. Everything okay? You sleeping all right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You shouldn't let this whole business get you down, Jim. You take everything way too seriously. I was just talking to Cindy about this last night. She says you and Blair should take a vacation or something. Have you thought about that, just the two of you going away together for a few days? I've got this cousin who's a travel agent and he can..."

"Leslie."

"What?"

"Just get the aspirin and call Kramer, okay?"

Subdued only slightly, she reached over and patted his shoulder. "Sure, honey. I'll get right on that." Instead of leaving, she glanced around the sparsely furnished office. "You know, what you really need is a big, comfy couch in here. It'd be just the thing. You could just stretch out and catch a few winks whenever you needed to."

"I just need some aspirin and some quiet." The words came out sharper than he intended.

"Oops, sorry, Mr. Grouchypuss. Don't mind me. I'm just here to serve the master."

It didn't take sentinel hearing to catch the next line when the door slammed shut behind her. "Man, someone needs to get laid."

Jim closed his eyes, his head still thumping like a hammer at his temples. He sighed and spoke quietly to himself. "If only it were that easy."

Jim slugged the punching bag, the impact traveling up the tight muscles of his arms. Sweat trailed down the side of his face, the repeated blows hard, but satisfying work. In his mind he beat Eli Stoddard beyond recognition, the smirking man's face shimmering in his mind as he pulverized it to a bloody pulp. The controlled violence made him stronger, more clear on what he needed to do to keep Blair. Reining in his own jealousy gave him the power and resolve to contain it.

It took several tries for his name to register.

"Jim?"

"Simon." Reluctantly, Jim stopped working out. He pulled off his gloves and then picked up the towel from the workbench. Drying his face, he took several deep breaths to calm his racing heart. "It's been awhile."

"Yeah. You okay?"

"I'm fine. Why?"

"You look, I don't know, a bit raw. You always go all out on the bag like that?"

Instead of answering, Jim opened the water bottle and took a long drink. He wiped his mouth, trying to manage the anger still swarming all through him. "How'd you find me?"

"Your secretary. Man, she's something else."

Smiling, Jim nodded. "She does tend to take the long way to the point."

"You can say that again." Simon Banks looked around the well equipped gym. "Nice place. I didn't know security companies had their own gyms these days."

"Offices and meeting rooms are in the front, gym in here, and the firing range is in the back. It used to be the old Tanner warehouse. I got a deal and had it renovated."

"Must be paying off. Your company's got one of the best reps in town."

"And I appreciate the business you've thrown my way."

Simon shrugged. "No problem. I figure if I can't have you as a cop, might as well send you the jobs more suited to the private sector."

Jim nodded, thinking over the numerous bodyguard and home security projects he'd done because of his friend's referrals. "Thanks. We're doing okay."

"And Blair? How's he doing?"

"Fine. Is that why you're here, to check up on Blair?"

"No, actually, I'm here about something else. Maybe you should clean up and we'll talk in your office."

The serious tone and somber expression set off alarms. "Why? What's going on?"

Simon hesitated only briefly. "What can you tell me about Jasper King?"

"Jasper? He's a friend. Up until last month, he used to work here. Why? What's going on? Did something happen to Jasper?"

Simon nodded, his face drawn and sad. "Afraid so. We found his body last night. I'm sorry."

The cold, sinking feeling almost swallowed him whole. Clenching his jaw, Jim struggled to tame his tongue. "How'd he die?"

"Stabbed in the heart." Reaching into his pocket, Simon held out an evidence bag. "I was hoping you could tell me why this would be at the scene."

Staring at the article inside the plastic, Jim shook his head, his mouth dry. "Fuck."

"That's you, right?"

"Yeah, that's me."

Jim closed his eyes, working like hell to block out the image of his mournful face on the bloody cover of NEWS UPDATE MAGAZINE.

Showered and back in his grey wool business suit, Jim sat at his desk. Shell-shocked, he handed the folder to Simon. "Here's all I've got on King. He was a good employee and a friend. I knew him in high school. When I started up the agency, he was one of the first people to show up and sign on."

"Why'd he quit?"

Jim avoided the intense stare. "There was an incident."

"What kind of incident?"

"One of the clients went out clubbing and OD'd. She lived, but Jasper felt responsible. He wasn't, but he decided he wanted to do something else."

"Which was what?"

"He always wanted to open up his own restaurant." Jim stood up and walked to the window, the view of the winter field wide and desolate. It suited his mood for the moment. "He liked to cook. He had Blair and me over several times."

"He knew about you two?"

"Jasper knew about me from high school, Simon. He was one of the few people who didn't give me shit about it."

"So you liked him?"

Arms wrapped tightly around his chest, Jim nodded. "Yeah, I liked him. Like I said, he was a friend. I offered to help him get started with the restaurant, but he wouldn't let me."

"Why not?"

"That's just the way he was. Proud."

"Too proud?"

Suddenly angry, Jim snapped. "How can a man be too proud? He was a good man. He didn't deserve this shit."

"Nobody does, Jim. I'm just trying to get a handle on what might have led up to him being killed and your picture taped to his chest."

"What?"

"You heard me. It was taped to his chest with duct tape. I guess the killer wanted to make sure we made the connection."

Jim settled into the nearest chair, his legs suddenly weak. "This is seriously fucked. Jasper and I were friends, but we weren't that close, not best friends. Why would this have anything to do with me?"

Simon shrugged and sat on the edge of Jim's desk, his voice softer, but still professional. "There are a couple of reasons that come to mind. One, the perp could have a grudge against you and knew you were a friend to King. Two, this is related to something that the two of you worked on together. And there's always the third possibility that this has nothing to do with you and this is just to throw us off."

"What do you think?"

"I don't have enough to know that yet. What I do know is that this killer spent a lot of time on the scene."

"What do you have besides my picture?" "King was tied to a chair. He'd been beaten and cut up before he was actually stabbed to death."

"Cut up?"

"His clothes were sliced off and there were deliberate cuts and gashes to his chest, face, and thighs."

Simon's momentary lapse as he looked away, begged the question. "Was he raped?"

"It's possible. It didn't look like a sexual assault, but we won't know until the report comes back."

Jim rubbed his face with both hands, trying to wipe away the disgust. "But we don't need a report to know that someone mindfucked and tortured him before he was killed."

"Looks that way."

"What can I do to help?"

"Tell me if you know of anyone who might have a beef against King."

"Nobody, at least none I know of. He and his ex fought some, but Debbie would never do anything like this."

"Debbie would be Debbie Baker?"

"Yeah. I can't think of anyone else."

"What about a boyfriend for Baker?"

"No, not as far as I know."

"What about the client who OD'd? Any hard feelings there?"

"No." Jim shook his head, the pressure building inside, the earlier chill replaced by the heat of growing rage. "Everybody liked Jasper. He was a good guy."

Simon nodded and then focused his gaze on Jim. "Then that pretty much leaves you. I think it's time I had a little more background about what happened to you in Peru."

"You think this has something to do with that?"

Holding up the cover page again, Simon pointed at Jim's stony image. "I don't think it's a connection we can dismiss. I mean, I've already read the article that goes with this, but I'm sure there's a lot more you can tell me about what really happened. I need details, anything that might make this thing make sense."

Jim leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head down for a few moments before he sat up again. "I can't talk about that. Not here. Not now. Come by the loft tonight around seven. I don't know if it'll help, but I'll tell you what I can then."

Simon put the evidence bag back in his pocket and stood up. "Fair enough." He paused, his words careful. "I know this is difficult for you, Jim. I don't have to be a detective to see that. I wouldn't ask you to go through it if I didn't think it were important."

"I know that."

Stepping to the door, Simon hesitated. "You going to be okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are. Maybe you should call Sandburg. If he knew King, it might be easier to hear about it from you."

"I'll do that."

"And, Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Watch your back. This killer might decide to go after you directly next time."

"Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

As soon as Simon left, Jim buzzed for Leslie. When she came in, he grabbed his coat from the rack by the door. "Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day."

"I'd love to, hon, but what about Phillips?"

"Keep that one, but reschedule the rest."

"What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost. God, don't you hate that expression? My grandma used to claim that she could see spirits."

"Leslie."

"What?"

"Jasper King is dead."

"Shit. You're kidding." Her voice caught in her throat. "Not Jasper."

"I need you to let people know." Patting her shoulder, he fought down his own grief as he watched her eyes moisten with tears. "I need to find Blair and then we need to see about arrangements."

Nodding, her face red, her hands shook as she wrote down the notes. "Whatever you need, Jim. You want me to call Jasper's mom?"

"Jesus. I didn't even think."

"I'll do it. I'll call Cindy and she can go over and stay with her for awhile. She shouldn't be alone right now. You know how close she was to Jasper."

"I know. Thanks."

"And, Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"You should tell Phillips to go fuck himself if he gives you any shit about Omar. Tell him to be damn grateful he still has a daughter."

Jim kissed her forehead. "Thanks, but right now, I could give a shit about Phillips."

"As it should be. Now, go on, go get Blair. He's going to be really upset. You know how he is. Promise to give him a kiss for me."

"Promise."

As he headed out the door, Jim knew that one kiss would never be enough and that his promise included far more than kisses.

Frantic and frustrated, Jim did what he least wanted to do, knock on the door of Eli Stoddard's office.

"Come in." Stoddard looked up, surprised. "Jim. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Sandburg. Have you seen him?"

"This morning." Standing up, Stoddard studied him with concern. "Are you okay? You look terrible."

"I need to find him. I checked the library and the student center, but he's not there and no one's seen him. He doesn't have a class right now and he didn't take his fucking cell phone." Jim stood in front of Stoddard's desk, his heart racing, his temples throbbing worse than before. All around him the air shimmered with a tight, yellow tension.

"Just calm down. Tell me what's wrong."

The controlled voice fired Jim's temper higher, his hands balled into fists. "Just tell me where the fuck he is."

Stoddard glanced at the clock and then back at Jim. "Probably in the basement working on the catalog."

"Catalog? What catalog?" "I asked him to help catalog some new artifacts I got in from Borneo. It's easy cash. Chances are he's still down there."

Clenching his jaw, Jim fought back the urge to kick down the walls. Blair hadn't told him about taking money from Stoddard. He struggled to keep his voice steady. "Where's the basement?"

"It's in the annex next door. Take the back entrance and it's the third stairwell on the right."

Turning, Jim started out, Stoddard's voice at his back. "Jesus, no wonder Blair was concerned."

Jim whirled back around. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you look like shit. He said he was worried about you and now I know why."

"You two talk about me?"

"Look, it's not what you think."

"You don't know shit about what I think."

Shifting uneasily, Stoddard kept his back to the window, his face taut and his eyes on Jim. "He was just worried about you and he mentioned it, that's all. We don't sit around talking about your love life."

"Fuck you, Stoddard. I don't have time for this shit." Jim stepped closer, his voice low, the force of the words deadly. "He's mine. Don't touch him. Don't even think about it. Got that?"

"Got it."

Intense blue eyes met his with a strength that surprised him. Jim backed up a little bit. "Just so we understand one another."

"We do. I'm no threat."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"I just like to be clear."

Standing absolutely still, arms crossed, Eli smiled for the first time. The words bit the air between them. "Oh, you're clear all right, Ellison. Crystal clear. You think you own the boy."

Jarred by the words, Jim shook his head, his vision blurry. "I never said that. He's not a boy and nobody owns him."

Alarm replaced the smug tone. "Are you okay?"

Sound echoed around him, stretched out, the air currents vibrating and slicing his ears. Jim fumbled for the back of the chair, the world unsteady. "I need to find Blair."

Hands guided him to sit down, the touch like fire through his clothes. Lids squeezed shut, light still poked at his eyeballs. "Stay here. I'll get him."

"I should go."

"You're not fit to go anywhere. Now, stay put."

Jim didn't argue. He floated in flashing blue lights and struggled not to scream as wildfire buzzed his skin.

Tumbling through sickly sweet ether, Jim lurched forward, his head in his hands. Blair's voice caught him. "Jim?"

Reaching out, Jim touched his lover's frightened face. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I couldn't control it."

Worried, Blair kneeled beside Jim and looked up at Eli. "We need to be alone."

"Sure. Is he going to be okay?"

"In awhile." As the older man opened the door, Blair added, "Appreciate the concern, man."

"No problem. I'll be in Elaine's office. Call if you need help."

"We'll be fine. Thanks."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Jim squeezed Blair's hand. "Is he gone?"

"He's gone. What the hell happened? You scared the shit out of me. You were totally out of it."

"I know." Jim sat back up, still dizzy, but less nauseous. "I couldn't find you."

"Why did you need to?"

Taking several deep breaths, Jim cupped Blair's cheek, the brush of his whiskers warm and rough against his still sensitive skin. "Jasper's dead."

"What?"

"Simon told me he was murdered last night."

"Oh, my god." Blair leaned in and wrapped his arms around Jim.

"He was tortured."

Blair's breath hitched. "I'm so sorry." Pulling away, he brushed his lips against Jim's. "You should've called."

Snorting, Jim pulled away. "I tried. You didn't take the damn phone, Chief."

"Oh, fuck, man. I meant to. I just got distracted this morning and forgot."

Jim sighed, remembering the delicious case of distraction in the shower. "It's okay, but don't let it happen again. I need to be able to reach you."

"It won't." Pausing, Blair stood up and moved to the chair beside Jim, his expression twisted with deep thought. "So, why did Simon come see you? Why not his mom or Debbie?"

"He went to see them, too, but I was Jasper's friend and his ex-employer."

"What aren't you telling me here?"

Jim stood up and walked to the window, uneasy and stalling. "Why do you think there's more?"

"Because you'd be upset, but not this upset if there weren't."

"You'd make a great detective."

"When it comes to you, maybe. Now what is it?"

Jim rubbed his face, working his tongue against the dryness. "There was a picture of me taped to his chest."

"Picture?"

"The one from the magazine cover."

"Shit."

"Yeah. Simon thinks the murder might have something to do with me."

"And Peru?"

"I don't see how, but yeah. He's coming over tonight to ask more questions."

"This sucks, man, I mean really sucks."

"I know. Why go after Jasper if the dumbfuck wants me? It doesn't make any sense."

Blair moved to stand next to Jim, palming the older man's chest. "It does if he wants you to suffer."

"Like I haven't suffered enough? Like crashing and losing all my men weren't bad enough?" Jim closed his eyes, the fury firing through him like a million bullets all at once. "This is so fucked."

"I know."

Blair's gentle touch kept him grounded. Taking his lover in his arms, Jim rested his forehead on Blair's shoulder. "I was just so worried when I couldn't find you."

"Why?"

"It would kill me if something happened to you."

"Ah, Jim." Blair kissed the side of his face as he rubbed the top of Jim's head. "Nothing's going to happen to me."

"I'll bet Jasper thought the same thing."

Blair's smile faded. "What about his mom?"

Jim stood up straighter and sighed. "Cindy's with her. We should go over and see if she needs help with the arrangements. It'll probably be at least 48 hours before the police release the body, but we still need to call people."

"Let me get my stuff and we can go."

"I'll go with you."

"Okay." Blair stopped and tilted his head. "Jim, why where you in Eli's office when you zoned out?"

"I didn't zone out."

"What do you call it?"

"I don't know. My senses spiked for some reason."

"Well, what exactly were you doing when that happened?"

"I was looking for you. I'd tried everywhere else." Suddenly angry again, Jim pushed past Blair, but stopped at the door. "And why the hell didn't you tell me you were working for that asshole?"

"First of all, keep your voice down. These walls are paper thin. Second, he's not an asshole. You're the one acting all crazy. I was making a few extra bucks. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is, you didn't tell me. If there's nothing going on, why keep it a secret?"

"Damn it, I wanted to buy you a present."

"A present?"

"Yeah, man, a present, something I bought with my own money."

Anger suddenly gone, Jim wondered why Blair even bothered with him sometimes. "I didn't know."

"That's the whole point. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Really?"

"Really. Eli offered me the job and I took it. Simple as that."

"I still think he has an ulterior motive."

"Jesus, Jim, just let it go for christsakes."

Both hands up, Jim surrendered. "It's gone."

"Right." Still annoyed, Blair stepped to the door. "Let's go get my shit and go see Mrs. King."

"Sure."

"And, Jim, we are so not done with this."

After two years of living with Sandburg, Jim knew better than to say another word.

"That is like so sad, man."

Jim sat beside Blair, the engine running, but the truck still parked. "Yeah, it is."

"It was nice of you to tell her about the insurance though."

"It was his policy."

"But he didn't work for you anymore."

Jim shrugged. "The premium was still paid up through the end of the month, so technically, he was still covered. It should take care of most of the funeral expenses."

Blair stared out the window, his face pale. "She was so lost. She doesn't have any other children."

"I know."

Hesitating, Blair spoke quietly. "Would you mind if I called Naomi tonight?"

Startled, Jim glanced over at Blair. Reaching out, he pushed back a wayward curl. "You don't have to ask that, Chief. You can call her anytime you want. You know that."

"I know. It's just that right now I think she's in Paris, but I'm not sure where. I might have to make several long distance calls to track her down."

"Then do it. It's not a problem."

"Thanks. It's a shame it takes something like this to make me call though."

"You'd call more often if she bothered to let you know where she was."

"Don't start on my mom, man."

"I'm not. I'm just saying."

"Well, don't." Blair covered his mouth momentarily before he spoke again. "So, what do we do now? I'm too messed up to go back to school today."

Jim glanced at his watch. "I've got a meeting with Phillips in just a few minutes. After that, we'll go home."

"I forgot about that shit. What did Omar say?"

"That he likes the girl and she started it."

"Figures. So, what are you going to tell Phillips?"

"Leslie says I should tell him to fuck himself."

"She would. But what are you really going to say?"

Shaking his head, Jim didn't want to think about another nasty confrontation. "I guess it depends on how he reacts to my plan."

"Which is?"

"I move Winston to another worksite and we treat Angie and Omar like adults, let them decide if they want to date or not."

"You think Phillips will go for it?"

"We'll know soon enough. Frankly, with all this shit with Jasper, this doesn't seem very important."

Blair touched his arm, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's just business. Jasper's personal. It'll work out."

"Will it?"

"If this Phillips creep has a problem with Omar, then we don't need his business anyway."

"Tough talk. Maybe I should send you in to set him straight."

Blair sat back with a smile. "Only with you behind me for back up. Give him one of your glares and we're set."

"You saying I have a menacing countenance?"

"Sometimes." Blair teased a finger along Jim's jaw. "Personally, I miss the smiles."

"I smile."

"I know, just not as often as you used to."

Jim met worried eyes as he captured Blair's wandering hand. "I smile when I think of you."

"Wish we didn't have this meeting."

"I could cancel and reschedule."

"No. Let's get it over with." Blair leaned in and brushed Jim's lips with his own, his tongue meeting the older man's briefly. Pulling back, he spoke in a hush. "Then we go home. Together."

Blair's desire steamed the air. Jim kissed him again, his skin flushed as he turned his attention back to the car. The sooner he saw Phillips, the sooner he could hold Blair in his arms and show him just how much he loved him.

"So, that's the way it is, Mr. Phillips. My man doesn't work on your estate any longer, and I won't interfere with my employee's personal life. Your daughter isn't a minor and from what I've seen, she's the one who initiated the relationship. I don't see what else I can do."

"You can fire that arrogant boy, that's what."

Jim held his temper in check just barely. "Mr. Winston is twenty-five, sir. He's not a boy by any stretch of the imagination."

"He's too old for my daughter."

"Not according to your daughter."

"She's just a child."

"She's eighteen. Frankly, I don't see the problem."

Phillips sat back in his leather chair, fuming. "Do you realize how much I pay your business, Ellison?"

"Yes, sir. You're one of my biggest clients. That doesn't change the fact that I won't tell one of my men who he can date when he's not working directly on this particular assignment."

"I could take my business elsewhere."

Jim kept his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his face stoic. "You could, even though it would cost you a lot more money and wouldn't really solve the problem."

"How would it cost more?"

"Well, I'd have to remove all the security equipment or you'd have to buy it outright. Then you'd have to hire another firm. It would take time for the change over."

"And if I'm willing to do that?"

"You'd be spending twice the amount you're spending now. If you're not satisfied with the actual work we've done, fine. But this isn't something that has anything to do with security. It's about controlling your daughter. If you think getting rid of my agency will help that, you're mistaken."

"I don't want that boy anywhere near Angela."

Jim looked away for a moment in frustration. After a couple of deep breaths, he continued. "You may not like it, sir, but the fact is, she and Mr. Winston like each other. It's been my experience that if parents try to keep two young people apart, even if they think they're doing the right thing, it tends to backfire. Let this alone and it may simply run its course and go away."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Mr. Winston's a good man, honest, hard-working. Your daughter could do a lot worse."

Phillips pursed his lips, his face puffy and red. "He's black."

"Is that a problem?"

"I didn't say that, but what could they possibly have in common?"

"I think that's for them to decide."

"I'm her father, goddamn it."

"Then show her how much you really care and let her make her own decisions. Support her choices. You could lose her if you don't."

Phillips snorted and shook his head. "You obviously don't have any children."

"No, but I was a son once."

Startled, grey eyes met Jim's. "Excuse me?"

Surprised by his own candor, Jim forced himself to continue. "My father drove me away because he thought he knew what was best for me. He didn't. I'd hate to see the same thing happen to you and your daughter."

Obviously disconcerted, Phillips looked away, suddenly thoughtful. After a few more moments of silence, he finally spoke. "My own father did that. Forced me to do things that were a big mistake. He meant well, but he made my life miserable at one point."

"Then you understand the situation."

"I still don't like it."

"I'd be surprised if you did. I think it's hard for any father to admit that his child has grown up."

Nodding, Phillips frowned as he slowly relented. "So, this Winston, he's okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"If he hurts my daughter, I'll kick his ass."

"You should let him know that, sir. Invite him to dinner."

Phillips laughed in spite of his reservations. "Don't push your luck, Ellison." He sighed and stood up, extending a hand. "Meanwhile, you still have your contract."

Shaking the man's hand, Jim nodded. "Thank you."

As he turned to leave, Phillips asked, "Ellison, you and your dad, are you two okay now?"

"My father's not part of my life."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Walking out the door, Jim heard Phillips call his daughter on the phone. "Angela, baby, we need to talk."

Trembling, his body drenched in sweat, Jim sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Humiliation stretched every muscle, carved every bone. A shaky hand settled in the small of his back. "It's okay, man. It's no big deal."

"It is to me."

"I didn't mean that. I just, I mean, I don't know what the fuck I mean." Frustrated, Blair shifted on the bed behind him and moved in closer. "This was a bad idea. You're stressed out. It happens."

"Not to me."

"You're human, Jim. A friend just died. Your senses are all fucked up. I don't know what I was thinking."

"I love you, Chief. I wanted to show you. It's not you."

"It's not you, either, man. It was just bad timing." Blair kissed his bare shoulder and then rested his forehead against his spine. "Why don't we get cleaned up and eat something before Simon gets here?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You've got to eat. You missed lunch."

Jim wiped his face with one hand, the world suddenly too cold. He stood up and slipped on his flannel robe. "I'm taking a shower. Order something. I don't care what."

"There's leftover lasagna. I can heat it up and fix some salads."

"Whatever."

Blair grabbed his wrist, his voice tense. "Jim, it's okay. I love you."

Avoiding anxious blue eyes, Jim nodded and turned away, pulling his arm free. "Sometimes I wonder why."

"How can you say that?"

"Because we both know I'm a pain in the ass, especially lately. I don't know why you bother."

Climbing off the bed, Blair shook his head with frustration and then wrapped his arms around Jim's waist. "Because you're my world, Jim, my whole world. I love you because you're special and the most honest man I've ever met. Sure you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but so am I. We need each other. What's wrong with that?"

Jim gazed at his lover with wonder, his heart punch drunk with the words. Sighing, he shook his head, still unconvinced. "You give more than you get."

"Sometimes. And sometimes it's the other way around. That's what being together means."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. We both give what we can and take what we need. It all balances out. Don't you get that?"

"I hope you're right."

"I am."

Jim lifted Blair's chin. "You're a confident little shit, Sandburg."

"Fuck that little shit, okay?" Teasing tone gone, Blair cupped his cheek. "We'll get through this."

"You believe that?"

"Yeah, man, I do. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

"But it hurts like hell in the meantime." Jim closed his eyes as Blair hugged him tighter, the younger man's arms the only anchor against the misery swelling around his drowning heart.

"Hey, Simon. You're early." Blair greeted the detective with a smile and took his coat. "Jim's in the shower. He should be out in a little bit. Want some coffee or a beer?"

"Wouldn't say no to some coffee. Thanks."

"Cream, no sugar, right?"

"You've got a good memory."

"About some things. Have a seat. I'll bring it over." Blair poured them both coffee and added cream to one before taking them to Simon on the sofa. He straddled the armrest and held the mug between his palms. "So, do you have any more information on Jasper?"

"I'd rather wait until Jim's here. I'd just as soon not go through it twice."

"Bad, huh?"

"Bad enough." Simon took a sip of coffee and then studied Blair. "So, how are things at school?"

"Fine, I guess."

"You guess?"

"It's just hard to focus on academics all the time."

"Maybe you should take fewer classes. You did start awfully young. Don't want to burn yourself out."

"No, it's not that, Simon. I like school, it's just..."

"Just what?"

Nervously, Blair glanced down the hallway toward the bathroom. He heard the shower still going. "It's Jim. I'm worried about him. You're bringing up a lot of stuff that he's got a tough time with."

"You think he can't handle it?"

"He can handle it. He has to. It's just hard, you know? He was already having a rough time before this happened. Now, I don't know. I just hate seeing him so stressed out."

"Might do him good to talk about it."

"Maybe."

Simon put his mug on the coffee table, his face serious. "I won't make it any harder than I have to, Blair."

"I know that. Just step lightly, man, that's all I'm saying."

The shower cut off and Blair cringed at the thought of the long night ahead.

Jim walked into the living room bare-footed, his hair still wet and the sweatshirt and jeans clinging to his damp skin. Carrying his shoes and socks, he sat in the chair across from the sofa. He slipped them on as he spoke. "Did you find out anything else?"

"No rape, but there was evidence of semen other than King's at the scene. The evidence suggests that the killer ejaculated, either before or after King was killed. We don't know which." Blair's breathing hitched, but he remained silent as Simon continued. "At least that gives us a DNA sample. If we can find a suspect, we'll have something to use."

Jim leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Any suspects in mind?"

"Not at this time. I need you to tell me about your relationship with King."

"My relationship?"

"You said you knew him in high school. Start with that."

Jim shrugged and crossed his arms as he sat back, spinning his mind back to former unpleasant times. "We were on the football team together."

"Were you friends then?"

"Not really. We hung out in groups, but not just the two of us. I don't think he was very comfortable with me back then. Not surprising. I wasn't very comfortable with myself back then."

"You said he knew about you being gay. How did that happen?"

Jim closed his eyes, the memory like an oozing scab. "It was stupid. John Weasley and I were wrestling around in the locker room after practice. I didn't mean for it to happen, but it did. I got hard and so did John. One thing led to another and we were kissing. Jasper walked in."

"What'd you do?"

Jim sat up and shook his head. "I went after him. I just knew I was dead, but he told me to forget about it and to get a room. He didn't tell anyone or hold it against me."

"That was it?"

"No. We went to a few keg parties together. He got drunk once and told me he had an uncle who was gay. Other than that, we were just teammates. He didn't hassle me, but we didn't get that friendly, either. That didn't happen until later when he came for a job."

"When was that?"

"When Tim and I first started the business. That was a little over three years ago. He didn't have a degree, but he had martial arts training and was a quick study. He was my best personal security man, even though he did tend to get too close to the clients."

"That's what happened with the one who OD'd?"

"Yeah. He felt responsible because he really wanted the girl to go to rehab. I told him he wasn't a social worker. He told me to go to hell. After he settled down, he told me he needed to do something different. That's when he mentioned opening a restaurant."

Simon rubbed the back of his head, his face worn and drawn. "Not much to go on."

"No."

"Think, Jim. Isn't there any time that maybe King got in someone's face as a bodyguard, maybe pissed someone off?"

"Sure, but not enough for something like this. You've got the complete file, Simon. There's nothing like that. I'll go through it again, but I doubt there's anything to find."

"Then that leaves us with you. It's either someone you both knew or someone who's trying to get to you through King. Which brings us to your time in Peru. Tell me about that. The article said you spent eighteen months in the jungle with some tribe called the Kopeks?"

"Chopec."

"So, what exactly happened?"

"Eight men went in, only one came out."

"That one being you. You were the leader?"

"Yeah." Jim paused, the air around him suddenly too dry. "I need a drink. Want one?"

"I'm good."

Ignoring the concerned glances, Jim went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He twisted off the top and swallowed half before he walked over to the window. The drink helped a little, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. His back to Simon and Blair, he rode a wave of fear, his stomach tight and rebellious. Several moments later, he fought to keep his voice steady. "I left home right after high school and enlisted. First week out of boot camp, Special Forces grabbed me up and started in on covert ops and officer training. Being a sniper came easy. Luckily, so did the survival skills. When we were assigned that mission in Peru, it never occurred to me that my whole life would change in an instant."

Jim squeezed his eyes shut against the explosion, the screams, the stench of scorched flesh mingled with the crack of bones inside his head. "We were shot down with heavy artillery. By the time the 'copter hit the ground, five of the eight were already dead. Stone and Rodridquez were seriously injured."

"What about you?" Simon's voice interrupted the thick trail of memories.

"Broken ribs, concussion, deep lacerations to my back and right leg, first and second degree burns over most of my chest and face. Somehow I managed to get free and pull the other two out of the wreckage. Didn't do any good. Roddy died first." Jim rubbed his stinging eyes as he pushed away the memory of the desperate cries of his friends. "Stone survived the longest, almost an hour. His whole pelvis was crushed. There was nothing I could do."

"You did what you could."

"It wasn't enough, Chief. They all died on my watch."

Simon's careful voice interrupted. "What then?"

"I don't remember exactly. There was so much blood. I couldn't breathe. The pain, it was too much. I passed out." Jim rubbed his arms, a phantom swarm of insects buzzing his skin, the rusty tang at the back of his throat too real. "When I woke up, I was with Incacha."

"Incaca?"

"Incacha. The shaman of the village. He saved my life."

"He treated you?"

"Yeah. He kept me sane when it would've been a lot easier to walk off a cliff. Plus he taught me what I needed to know to get by as part of the tribe."

"You understood him?"

"He used more than words." Jim stopped briefly, pushing away the memory of soft touches, the whisper of tongue across his skin. Swallowing back his anguish, he continued, his voice strained. "I learned the language. For some reason, it was easy for me."

Simon shook his head in amazement. "You were damn lucky to survive."

"So they say."

"But once you were well, why didn't you leave, try to find some way back home?"

Jim turned and met the dark gaze. "I couldn't, Simon. They took me into their world, made me one of them. I belonged there. Besides, I owed it to the others to stay. It was my fault that they were dead. I buried their bodies and then secured the pass. I needed to do that."

Simon leaned forward, confused. "How was it your fault? Were you the pilot or one of the men who shot down the helicopter?"

"No, but..."

"But what?"

"I should've known. I had this bad feeling that something was wrong before we left. Col. Oliver was acting suspiciously. Apparently, he tipped off the guerillas that we were coming."

"Then it's his fault, not yours."

"That's what the army shrinks said."

"But you didn't believe them."

"No. Those men were my responsibility." The words caught in his throat. "I fucked up and they died because of me."

Blair got up and moved to Jim's side, wrapping his arms around his middle. Jim's whole body shook against his. Meeting Simon's worried eyes, Blair motioned for the door. "That's enough, man. He needs to rest."

"I'll let myself out."

Jim settled into Blair's embrace, his eyes squeezed shut, the crash playing over and over in his head. His throat tight, his breaths in short pants, he let Blair guide him upstairs. He paid no attention to being stripped and tucked in, his young lover sliding in beside him before turning off the light. Riding the wreckage to the jungle floor one more time, he wondered if a ghost ever really survives.

Jim hung up the phone and looked over as Blair settled on the sofa beside him. Troubled eyes stared back. "Who was that?"

"Leslie. I was making arrangements for a bodyguard."

"Bodyguard? For me?"

"It was either that or keep you handcuffed to my side until this thing is over."

"I can't take a bodyguard to school."

"Then you're going with me. Those are your choices."

Instead of arguing, Blair shrugged. "I guess if you think it's necessary."

"I do."

"You really think that whoever killed Jasper might come after me?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure not going to take any chances."

"Okay, but what about you?"

Puzzled, Jim glanced over. "What about me?"

"You need someone watching your back, too."

"I can take care of myself, Chief."

"So could Jasper."

Unsettled by the observation, Jim nodded. "You're right. He could. Whoever did this must have been really good or someone he wouldn't have suspected."

"Like someone he knew?"

"Or someone who seemed harmless enough and then ambushed him."

Blair crossed his arms and hugged himself. "This is really creeping me out, man."

Scooting in closer, Jim drew Blair to his side. "It's going to be okay. We'll find whoever this bastard is and stop him."

"I hope so. The sooner the better." After a pause, Blair turned slightly and looked up at Jim again. "We need to talk about yesterday."

"I know."

"First of all, I want to get this thing about Eli out of the way."

Jim tensed. "What about him?"

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do. It's people like Stoddard I have a problem with."

"No, it's not. You either trust me or you don't. It doesn't matter what Eli or anybody else does. I don't want to keep having this conversation. I need you to really trust me to always be faithful. Have I ever once given you reason to think I'd cheat?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why do you keep thinking that's going to happen?"

Standing, moving to the window, Jim shook his head nervously. Dread weighed down his words. Saying what he feared made it too real, too possible. "I don't know. Maybe because you're so young. You've never had a chance to be with anyone else."

"I've never wanted anyone else."

"You say that now, but I worry that someone else will come along who's better for you, someone who fits into your world better."

"Someone like Eli."

"Right."

"I can understand that."

Startled, Jim turned, his mouth slightly open. "You can?"

"Sure. Eli's good looking, he's smart, and he's secure enough that he doesn't give me shit about looking at other men. Still, there's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"I don't love him."

"Lucky for me."

"You're right. Damn lucky for you. The point is, it's not about age, never has been. This jealousy thing is serious. It contaminates the relationship. You have to trust me."

"I do trust you."

"Then prove it. Stop worrying about Eli or anybody else who shows an interest. Be secure enough to know that I'll always be with you."

Nodding, Jim heard the words, but his gut kept clenching. "I want to. I keep trying."

"I know you do, and that brings me to the second thing we have to talk about. I want you to see the shrink Simon recommended, the one who specializes in PTSD cases."

"I can't do that."

"You won't do that. And I went along with it for awhile, but seeing you last night and hearing about what you went though again, damn, man, you have to."

"I don't have to. I told you before, shrinks don't work."

"Maybe not then. Maybe they weren't the right ones or maybe you weren't ready, but, Jim, face it, you're on the edge here."

"I can handle it."

"I can't."

Jim looked into troubled blue eyes, his breath catching. "What?"

"I can't take it."

"Then maybe you should go see one."

"Maybe I should. I sure as hell need to do something." Blair pushed back his hair and shook his head in frustration. "I don't know what else I can say to get through to you. You need help with this shit. I don't want to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You didn't see yourself last night, Jim. You scared me."

Jim sighed and turned back toward the window. "I'm sorry, Chief. I don't mean to."

"I know you don't, but the point is, you don't control it anymore. This survivor's guilt you feel, it's destroying you. Can't you see that? It's time to get help."

"What, you think sitting around talking about it is going to make it all better? It's done. I can't change it. My men are still dead."

"But you're not and that's the problem. You think you should've died with them."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to, man. It comes through loud and clear." Blair got up and moved to stand next to Jim, his hand on the older man's crossed arms as he spoke quietly. "Please, at least think about it."

Reluctantly, Jim rubbed his face with his right hand. "I'll think about it." Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers through Blair's thick, curly hair. "Thanks for taking care of me last night."

"I'll always be here."

"I know." Jim said it, but in his heart, he didn't know if he truly believed it.

"What's with the escort? You a celebrity now?"

"Funny, man."

The younger man's serious expression wiped the smile from Eli's face. "What's wrong?"

Blair turned to the man behind him. "It's okay, Greg. We're just going to talk."

"I'll be right outside." Greg put a hand on the door before Blair could close it. "I'm going to call Jim and let him know we're running late."

"We're not late. We're not due back for another hour."

"Didn't you say you needed to go to the library, too?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're running late."

"Fine. Do what you have to." Blair shut the door with more force than he intended before sitting down and dropping his backpack beside him. He glanced up at Eli and shrugged. "Sorry. He's my bodyguard. Jim's idea."

"How is Jim?"

"He's fine. Sorry about yesterday. He was having a bad day."

Unconvinced, Eli shook his head. "That was more than a bad day. He needs to see a doctor."

"I appreciate your concern, Eli. I really do. But Jim will work it out in his own way."

"His own way doesn't seem to be working."

"Leave it alone, man." Blair ignored the hurt expression and took a deep breath. "Look, I've a got a problem."

"A problem that requires security?"

"Sort of. A friend of ours was killed and the police think Jim and anyone close to him might be at risk."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"How do the police connect Jim to his friend's death?"

"It's a long story, man, but the thing is, Jim feels responsible. He does that, feels guilty when shit happens he can't control."

"Are we talking about the murder or something else?"

Blair hesitated briefly, but then explained. "Jim suffered some serious trauma a few years back. He lost his men on a mission to Peru and was in the jungle for 18 months before being rescued. He still thinks it was his fault."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"I guess that explains the PTSD you were asking about."

"And this murder is bringing that all up again."

Nodding, Eli leaned forward. "How are you dealing with all this?"

"I'm okay. I'm just worried about Jim."

"I can understand that."

The tone hit Blair the wrong way. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eli raised a hand, his voice softer. "Don't get defensive. I just meant anyone can see he's on edge."

"He's got his reasons."

"I understand that. I just hope one of those reasons isn't me."

Blair bit his lower lip and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. Fatigue beat down his muscles. "It's not you, man. It's Jim. I don't know what more I have to do to convince him that there's never going to be anyone else."

"Maybe he's afraid you're going to outgrow him. Let's face it, Blair. You're only eighteen and you've probably never even been with anyone else."

"So, what's your point?"

"My point is, that for Jim it's a legitimate concern."

"You're as bad as he is." Blair sat back up, suddenly angry. "He's not an old sweater. I don't outgrow someone I love."

Eli smiled weakly and shrugged. "It happens."

"Not to me and Jim. You're way off base here."

"I might be, but it happens more often than not." Eli paused and then leaned forward. "I never thought my first love would end, but it did. So did the second and the third. I never planned for any of my relationships to be over, but people change. Their needs change and they don't fit anymore. That's all I'm saying."

Blair noted the solemn expression and calmed down. "I'm sorry, man. That must have been hard."

"Being thirty-five gives me a different perspective. When I was young like you, I thought love lasted forever. It doesn't, not for everybody."

Blair shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "I understand what you're saying. I do, but..."

"But you don't think it applies to you and Jim."

"It doesn't."

"That doesn't seem to be what Jim thinks."

"Jim's got other issues." Frustrated, Blair didn't wait for a response, but pushed ahead to change the subject. "Look, I didn't stop by for a lecture about my love life. I wanted to let you know I can't work on the catalog anymore."

"Because of Jim?"

"Because I don't know how long it's going to take to catch this guy. I'm going to my classes, but the rest of the time, I'm helping with funeral arrangements and trying to work with the police."

"Don't worry about the catalog. Luther Doss can use the money." Eli frowned. "Just how serious do the cops think the threat is to you and Jim?"

"Serious enough that we had a police guard on our place last night."

"Any idea what it's all about?"

"Not really. Anyway, it's been pretty rough since we heard about Jasper."

Eli's face suddenly drained of color. "Jasper? Jasper King?"

"Yeah. You know Jasper?"

Stunned, Eli stood and walked to the window. He shook his head and then cleared his throat. "How did it happen?"

"He was tortured and stabbed. It was in the news."

"Tortured? My god." The words stumbled out.

"How did you know Jasper?"

"I lived with his uncle." Glancing out the window, seeing the past instead of the campus, his voice got thicker. "Jason was love number three."

"I'm sorry, Eli. I didn't know."

"Jason and Jasper were tight. I should probably give him a call, see if he's all right."

"Are you okay, man?"

Eli glanced up, his eyes more red than before. "I really liked Jasper."

"Yeah, me, too."

"When's the funeral?"

"I'm not sure. I'll call and let you know."

"Thanks." Eli sat on the edge of the desk, his face more intense. "Just be careful, Blair."

Standing, Blair picked up his backpack. "I will, man."

"And don't worry so much about Jim. He'll be okay. He's got you. What more could he need?"

Blair nodded and headed out, bodyguard in tow, wanting more than anything for his friend's words to be true.

Jim rolled the bottle of whiskey between his hands, the cold, hard surface a comfort against his palms, the amber liquid a tease in the dim light. He didn't drink much, not anymore. A few beers, a couple of shots, those were his limits since he met Blair.

Life with Blair had meaning, a point beyond going through the motions, a reason beyond fighting the urge to eat his gun.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he swallowed the hurt, the awful fear that he might drive away the one person in his life who mattered. He knew one drink would make it better, four or five would make it bearable. He unscrewed the cap, shuddering, the aroma taunting his gut, his tongue hungry for more than a whiff of promise.

"Jim?"

Glancing up, Simon stood in the doorway, his dark face shadowed and severe.

Sighing, Jim dropped his head in defeat. He closed the bottle and put it back in the bottom drawer of his desk. "Finished with the interviews?"

"Not quite. Taggart and the others are making a list of people we missed. You okay?"

"Not really."

"That's a first."

"What?"

"Admitting it." Simon moved into the office and shut the door. "You look rough."

"I feel rough."

"I'm sorry about last night."

"I know. Thanks for putting a unit on my place."

Simon shrugged. "I figured you were in no shape to defend yourself." Hesitating, his friend sat down, his voice even grittier than usual. "This is probably none of my business..."

"Never stopped you before."

"When I saw you just now, it made me wonder. I've seen that look before."

"What look?"

"The one that says you'd kill your best friend for a drink look. You have a problem with the bottle?"

Jim didn't meet his eyes. Instead, he stood and walked to the window, his mind rolling scene after ugly scene of all the drunken times in his life, at least the ones he could remember. "It started in high school. Keg parties, stealing bottles from my dad's bar. Dad never noticed, or if he did, he never said. Fuck. I played the championship football game plastered and still won. It wasn't so bad in the army. I kept busy, working out, training." He stopped, his mouth dry. "But after Peru, that's when it got out of control. The booze helped dull the sharp edges. When I first got out, I hooked up with Tim. Tim understood. He drank, too. Fuck, we closed a lot of bars together even after we started the agency. We were quite a pair. He'd find a woman, I'd find a man. I lost track of how many strangers we fucked."

"I've never seen you drunk."

"I hope you never do. I stopped getting drunk and sleeping around when I met Blair."

"So why the bottle in the office? Why tempt yourself?"

"A test, I guess. I don't know. It just reminds me that it's always a choice."

"What would you have done if I hadn't shown up when I did?"

"I don't know. I wanted to drink. Honestly, I can't say that I wouldn't have, not for sure."

Uneasy, Simon shook his head. "Jim, no offense, man, but you can't afford to go off the deep end right now."

"I know that."

"Then maybe you should reconsider that shrink I suggested."

Anger flushed his skin. "Fuck, not you, too."

"I take it Blair suggested the same thing?"

"Get off my back about this. It's not going to happen, not right now. I don't have time for some asshole to fuck with my head."

"Your head's already seriously fucked, my friend."

Startled by the solid conviction of Simon's words, Jim crossed his arms, his heart racing. "I'm handling it."

"How? By eating your guts out with undeserved guilt? By thinking about getting drunk? That's not coping, Jim. You're a smart man. You know that." Simon stood and moved to stand next to Jim, a supportive hand on his shoulder. Concern pushed the words. "Look, I can't even begin to understand all the pain you're feeling, but you can bet that you're not alone. Blair hurts when you do. You didn't see how he looked last night. He's worried. I'm worried. You need help. If you keep on like this, you could lose yourself or Blair, or maybe both."

Confession forced the words. "Sometimes it's all too much."

"What?"

"The world, Blair, just breathing."

Simon squeezed his shoulder gently. "If I make an appointment this afternoon, will you see the doctor?"

"Too soon."

"Not soon enough. Come on, Jim. See this guy. It can't hurt worse than what you're already feeling."

"What if he tells me I'm nuts?"

"Then you know he's too smart to fool."

Jim smiled in spite of his own fear. He sobered quickly and then nodded. "Do it."

"Hey, Simon." Blair walked into the office and looked around, puzzled. "Where's Jim? We were supposed to meet for lunch."

"He had an appointment."

"Appointment?"

Simon sat behind Jim's desk turning the pages in King's file. He looked up and motioned towards the chair. "Have a seat. We just got the toxicology results back on King. Apparently, he was drugged."

"Drugged?" Blair took off his coat and hung it on the rack before sitting down across from Simon. "What kind of drug?"

"Ketamine."

"Special K?"

Suddenly more alert, Simon glanced up. "What do you know about drugs?"

"I go to college, man. Drugs aren't exactly a state secret."

Sadly, Simon agreed. "I guess not."

"In fact, I was just talking to a friend about how there's a whole alphabet of shit out there. K can knock your ass out, so I guess that would explain why Jasper couldn't fight back."

"It would. We're trying to track his movements on the night of his death. We think he went to a club, some dive called Chico's. He might have met up with someone who spiked his drink."

"And then took him home to kill him? Wouldn't somebody have noticed someone being dragged out?"

"Not necessarily. The drug might not have kicked in right away. The perp could've followed him and then killed him. Or even if he was passed out, people pass out at bars all the time. So far we've got no witnesses either way."

"That sucks." Blair shook his head, his face solemn. He looked up at Simon. "So where's Jim, really?"

"Like I said he had an appointment."

"He would've called me."

"This came up at the last minute." Simon avoided the young man's eyes as he skimmed the pages in the file.

"Where'd he go, Simon? Jim doesn't take off and change his schedule unless there's a serious reason."

"He should probably tell you himself."

"Tell me what?"

Simon wiped his mouth with his hand and then leaned forward. "He went to see Dr. Carson."

Blair shook his head in disbelief. "The shrink? Really?"

"Really."

"He told me this morning he'd think about it. How'd he get an appointment so quick?"

"I made it. Carson knows me. He knows I wouldn't call unless it was really important."

Swallowing hard, Blair nodded. "Thanks, man."

"Don't get your hopes up, kid. Seeing somebody might not make that much difference right away. It's been my experience that situations like Jim's take time to resolve."

"I know, but it's a start." He got up and walked to the window, his arms wrapped around his chest. "I'm surprised he agreed. He's really stubborn about shit like this."

"He's scared, Blair, and I'm not talking about being scared about this thing with the murder."

"I know. The nightmares just keep getting worse. Doesn't seem to matter what I do or say."

"That's because it's not about you. It's about Jim. He doesn't think he deserves you or to be happy."

"Or to be alive."

"Yeah, that, too."

Still by the window, Blair leaned one shoulder against the wall as he watched the drizzle slowly wet the brown earth. "You know, his father and brother live in town. I've never met either one."

"Why's that?"

"Because according to Jim they don't exist."

"Don't exist? That's pretty harsh."

"I know."

"What about his mother?"

"Left when he was a kid. He told me I was his only family. I don't know if I can be enough sometimes."

Simon closed the file and sat back, nodding. "He's not exactly low maintenance, that's for sure."

"I just don't want to fuck up. I don't know what to say when he hurts so much. It's like he dismisses me because of my age and because I love him, like I couldn't possibly love him if I were old enough to know better or weren't blinded by love."

"That's not true. He doesn't think that."

"Sure he does. Jim loves me, but he doesn't love himself. He thinks the only reason I love him is because I haven't seen the true Jim yet. As soon as I do, I'm gone. He also thinks as soon as I find someone better, I'll leave him. That's what he thinks."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. It's getting harder and harder to see him like this."

"Maybe the shrink will help."

"I hope so."

Simon paused as he played with the edges of the folder. "What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if the shrink doesn't help? What if Jim never gets better? What if he gets worse?"

"I can't let that happen."

"What if it's not up to you?"

Blair met Simon's dark brown eyes. "Let me ask you a question."

"What?"

"What would you do if your wife was traumatized in some way, attacked or robbed? What if she was so terrified and freaked out that she couldn't sleep at night? What if she was so jealous it threatened to wreck your marriage? Would you love her any less?"

"You know I wouldn't."

"It's the same with Jim. I want him to get better, but if he doesn't, I'm not giving up. The law won't let us get married, but that doesn't mean that we're not."

"Marriages end sometimes."

Blair moved closer to the desk, his words vehement. "Not this one." Stuffing his hands down in his pockets, he smiled for the first time during the conversation. "Now, enough about this stuff. I'm hungry. You eat lunch yet?"

"No. Why? You buying?"

"Me, buying? You must be joking. Bodyguards always foot the bill. I'm pretty sure it's in the bodyguard handbook or something."

Simon chuckled as he stood up. "And I'm the bodyguard?"

"Comes with the badge, man."

Jim came into the office, the air too tight inside his lungs, his eyes gritty and raw. Blair looked up and smiled. "Hey."

"Hey." Taking off his coat, Jim kept his voice neutral. He shut off the replay of the conversation with Carson, the words still too sharp, too crisp in his head. He needed to focus on the present, not the fucking past. "Sorry about lunch."

"It's okay. Simon took me out to eat."

"Simon?"

"Yeah. He paid, too. See, he's not as tight as you said."

Jim loosened his tie and hung up his coat. He frowned as he glanced at his desk. "Where's the King file?"

"Simon took it. He said he wanted to check out a few of the clients."

"Fuck. He has his own copy." Jim slammed a fist into the side of the file cabinet, the anger too quick to control.

"I'm just telling you where it is, man."

Jim met hurt blue eyes and fought down his irritation. "Sorry. I just wanted to read through it again myself."

"It's okay." Blair played with the edge of the desk, avoiding Jim's eyes. "So, how'd it go?"

"How did what go?"

"Come on, Jim. Simon told me."

"Fuck."

"What? You wanted to keep it a secret?"

"No. I just don't want to talk about it right now."

"Why not?"

"Jesus." Jim rubbed his temples, his head throbbing. "I just had a really rough day, okay? Give me a minute to breathe here without the fucking third degree."

Blair bit his lower lip and stood up. "Maybe I'll go wait out in the front office with Leslie. Give you some time alone."

Jim shook his head and came around the desk. He took Blair by the shoulders and then pulled him into an embrace. "I'm being a shit. I know."

"Then stop it."

Jim closed his eyes as Blair wrapped his arms around his middle, the younger man's heart rate too fast and his breathing too quick. "I'm sorry, Chief."

Blair gave him a quick squeeze and then pulled away. He touched Jim's face lightly. "I don't want to push you, Jim. If you can't talk about it, then don't. I'm just glad you decided to see someone."

"It's okay. I probably need to tell you some of it." Jim released Blair and moved back behind the desk, his face pale, his eyes like bruises. "This Carson guy's tough."

"Good. You need tough. You wouldn't respect anything else."

"That's not true."

"It's true."

"Well, maybe. Anyway, I have to see him every day except the weekend."

"Every day? Shit. Isn't that a lot?"

"It was a compromise."

"With what?"

"Inpatient care."

"As in committed? No fucking way." Blair swallowed hard, his body tight with concern.

Jim leaned forward, elbows on the desk, rubbing his face with both hands. "I told him the same thing, that he was overreacting. Bottom line, we agreed that we'd try every day for awhile and then maybe cut back to three times a week once I start sleeping and dealing with things a little better."

"Why would he want to commit you, man?"

"I guess because I'm fucked up."

"Well, yeah, but you're not that fucked up. You're not dangerous or anything."

Jim studied his lover, looked for the conviction he so needed. "He said I had self-destructive tendencies."

"So? We all do. It's not like you wanted to kill yourself or anything, right?"

Jim looked away, avoiding the searching blue eyes, aiming to keep his voice light. "I won't have to bother. This guy's homework assignments might do it for me."

Blair came around the desk and kneeled in front of Jim, forcing the older man to meet his worried gaze. His voice trembled as he took Jim's hand. "You didn't answer the question. Is that why he wanted to put you in the hospital? Did you tell him you wanted to kill yourself?"

"I never said that."

"Then what did you say? Tell me."

Jim closed his eyes, the words twisty and hard to control. "I told him I dream about dying, that sometimes I think it'd be better if I'd died in Peru." He opened his eyes again and cupped Blair's cheek as he whispered. "I didn't say I wanted to be dead, Blair. I don't."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely. I love you."

Blair turned his head and kissed Jim's palm before he stood up. He settled on the larger man's lap and rested his head on his shoulder. "I love you, Jim, but you break my heart sometimes."

Jim hugged him closer, wondering for all the world how to make it all better, his empty stash of answers like spent bullets in snow.

Blair finished putting away the dishes and hung up the towel after drying his hands. He turned around, leaning back on the counter. "Okay, man. Homework time. Spill. Tell me what this guy wants you to do."

Jim shook his head and took his coffee to the couch. He sat down and put the mug on the side table. "I really don't want to talk about this now."

"Why not?"

Sitting back, Jim crossed his arms and waited while Blair settled on the other end of the sofa. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Chief."

"Then don't. Tell me what's going on."

"These assignments, they're personal."

"Personal as in private, right?"

"Right."

Blair shrugged. "I get that. It's not like I'm offering to do them. I'm just curious as to what he's expecting you to do. If you want me to butt out, I guess I can do that."

"But being the curious soul that you are, it'll make you crazier than me if you don't know."

"I wouldn't go that far, man." Blair's teasing tone matched his grin. "So, what do you have to do?"

Surrendering, Jim shrugged. "He wants me to keep a journal."

"A journal's no biggie. I keep a journal. Hell, I keep two, one for me and one for school."

"But you're an anthropologist, Chief. It's what you do, make observations, record what you think about what you see. I'm not like that. I don't want to dissect the day or analyze how I feel about every fucking thing that happens. I'm not comfortable with that."

"You'd just as soon forget about most of what happens."

"Pretty much. Besides, writing things down can be dangerous."

"Dangerous? How?"

"People can use it against you."

Confused, Blair shook his head. "I don't get it. What people?"

"Anybody." Uneasy, Jim avoided Blair's eyes. "I mean, like when I was a kid, my dad found some things I wrote and, well, it was pretty bad."

"Pretty bad how?"

"I don't want to talk about my dad. He was an asshole. Just leave it at that."

"Okay, but Dr. Carson's not your dad. Everything you write is confidential. Nobody's going to read it unless you say so. Besides, you could start out small, just notes. It doesn't have to be anything big."

"He wants me to record my dreams."

"Ah."

"Exactly. And not just what they're about, but how they make me feel. I mean, I just don't get the need for all this introspection shit. My dreams scare me shitless. How many times do I have to write that?"

"I guess until you figure out what they mean and why they scare you so much."

Jim scowled, his face darker. "It doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

"So you told him no, huh?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

"Okay. Anything else?"

Jim turned on the sofa and reached over to Blair, pulling him closer. The younger man relaxed against his chest, Jim's arms wrapped around his neck. "I'm supposed to make a list of the things I like about myself. Talk about a short list."

Blair jabbed him in the ribs. "Don't say that, man. You've got a lot of great points."

"You're prejudiced, Chief."

"You bet."

Jim squeezed Blair a little tighter and kissed the side of his face. Then he sighed, holding Blair soothing his nerves. "I also have to make a list of what I hope to accomplish with therapy. God, therapy. I can't fucking believe I'm doing this."

Blair snuggled against him, the body heat a comfort. "It took a lot of guts to get started, man. I'm proud of you."

Resting his chin on the top of Blair's head, Jim closed his eyes, his voice whisper soft. "I'm not sure I can do it."

"Sure you can. I'll help."

"I know you will, but this shit is going to make getting shot seem like a cake walk. It's going to hurt like hell."

"You've got a right to be scared, Jim. But you can do this."

"I don't have a lot of choice."

"You've always got a choice. Some choices are just better than others."

Before Jim could argue, the phone rang. Frowning, he untangled himself from Blair and picked up the receiver. "Ellison."

"Jim? It's Tim."

Alarmed by the strained voice, Jim leaned forward to focus on the call. "Tim? What's up?"

"You're not going to fucking believe this, but I think some motherfucker's trying to kill me."

"Let me get this straight, your ex-partner's van was tampered with and your dog tags were taped to the underside where the brake line was cut?"

Jim paced the small interview room, his whole body on hyper alert. "He'd been ill, so he hadn't used the van in a couple of weeks. The perp could've done it before coming up here to attack Jasper."

"That's true, if it's the same guy."

"It has to be, otherwise why the dog tags?"

"You're sure they're yours?"

"I checked. They're missing."

Simon sat back, his face drawn and tired. "When was the last time you saw the tags?"

"I don't know. Years ago. I had them stored in a box at the back of my closet. When I checked after Tim's call, they weren't there. Neither were some pictures."

"What kind of pictures?"

"Army stuff. Just some of the crews I worked with before my discharge."

"Nothing blackmail worthy then?"

Jim stopped pacing and frowned. "What? You think I take kinky pictures and leave them around for people to fuck with?"

Simon raised a cautioning hand. "Don't get hostile, Jim. I'm just asking."

"Sorry. I'm a little on edge here."

"With good reason. You know what this means?"

"It means that some fucker broke into my place and took my shit without me knowing."

"Or it's someone you know."

Jim took a deep breath and then sat down across from Simon. Very deliberately, he put both hands palm down on the rough surface, the tension stretching up through his arms. "Yeah. I thought about that."

"Any ideas?"

"None. Believe me, I've been trying to think, but there's nothing."

"What about Blair?"

"What about him?"

"Maybe he brought someone home and he took the tags and pictures when the kid wasn't paying attention."

"I asked, but he says no. Besides, he rarely brings anybody home. It's only been since he turned eighteen that he lets many people know we're together."

"Makes sense." Simon rubbed the back of his head and then took a sip of coffee. He lifted the Styrofoam cup. "Want some?"

"No, thanks."

"Okay, I've got a call into the San Francisco PD. Maybe we'll get lucky and pull some prints from the van. Now, tell me again what Davis said."

Sitting back in the wooden chair, Jim crossed his arms. "He's got this custom-fitted van, but he hadn't driven in a few weeks. Apparently, his brother Jack decided to change the oil and do some work and that's how he found out the brake line had been cut. Tim lives on a hill near a steep cliff. There's no way he would've been able to keep from going over the edge."

"It's a different MO."

"But the tags and the fact that Tim's my ex-partner makes me think it's the same guy."

"I'd say there's a strong connection. Davis got lucky."

"Yeah. Luckier than Jasper."

"He could still be in danger."

"Yeah, I told him what's going on. He's taking precautions."

"He's in a wheelchair, Jim. He might need more than just being alert."

"You don't know Tim. Now that he knows there's a threat, he'll take care of it."

"You probably should've called him about King earlier."

Guiltily, Jim nodded. "Probably."

"Don't beat up on yourself. Hell, all things considered, I should've contacted him myself. In fact, he was on my list as a follow up on some of King's cases."

Jim sat back, his hand to his mouth, his mind eliminating a whole list of names in his head. "I don't think this is related to a case. I think it's personal."

"It's personal, no doubt about that. This guy's fucking with your head. But now with the attempt on Davis, we may have more to go on. You said King was one of the first guys you and Davis hired. Were there any cases that all three of you worked on?"

"Sure. Before he started specializing as a bodyguard, we all worked on a lot of set ups."

"Set ups?"

"Evaluating the needs of the clients and installing the tech work and security teams. Tim and Jasper worked most of the first crews I set up."

"I'm going to need those files. Tonight."

"No problem. I'll go over and get you some copies."

"Any particular job stand out in your mind, someone who gave you problems or wasn't happy with the service?"

"None that I can think of offhand. I'll need to go through the files." Jim hesitated, avoiding Simon's gaze. "To be honest, I don't remember much about those early days."

"You were drinking?"

"Pretty heavily. I mean, I could do the job. I just don't remember much more than that."

"So is it possible you could've fucked someone over and not remember it?"

"Yeah, it's possible, but this doesn't make any sense." Jim shook his head in frustration and anger. "I just don't remember anything that would make a person do something as fucked up as this."

Simon paused and leaned forward, his hands fisted together on the table. "Okay, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm going ask you something that might piss you off."

Wary, Jim frowned and scooted back a little further from the edge of the table, his arms crossed again. "What?"

"What about ex-lovers?"

"What about them?"

"You told me that you and Tim used to get drunk and pick up strangers. Is it possible that one of these guys might be obsessed with you for some reason?"

Shaking his head, Jim stood and paced the room, wishing like hell for a window. "I don't see how. I never fucked anybody more than once."

"Always one night stands, no exceptions?"

"I didn't want to get involved." Jim noted his friend's silent disapproval as he shifted uneasily in his chair. "I know, Simon. What can I say? I didn't give a shit about myself or the people I slept with, not until Blair."

"I'm not here to make judgments, Jim. You turned yourself around and I'm glad about that. I hope you at least protected yourself."

Jim didn't answer right away, knowing Simon wouldn't want the truth, the fact that he didn't care one way or the other about condoms before Blair. Fucking and being fucked gave him relief from the black pit that he'd lived in. Sexual Russian roulette never bothered him before Blair. "I got tested. I'm clean and I'm always careful with Blair."

"You lucked out, Ellison, and I'm not just talking about dodging the bullet with the diseases out there."

"I know."

"Were they all legal?"

Startled, Jim looked up. "What?"

"Were all the guys you took to bed legal?"

"Jesus, Simon."

"You know I have to ask, considering."

"Fuck. This is crazy. I wasn't some sexual predator out to fuck kids. They were all grown men as far as I know. Hell, most of the time I went for older guys."

"Why was that?"

"Don't ask." Ignoring Simon's troubled expression, Jim shook his head and rubbed his face with both hands. "God, I hope it's not someone I slept with."

"Why's that?"

"Because I don't remember any of their faces much less their names."

Simon shook his head and heaved a sigh. "Maybe we should invite your ex-partner down and see if he remembers anybody in particular."

"Tim drank even more than I did."

"Maybe, but it's been my experience that sometimes a best friend remembers more about your love life than you do. Besides, I want to talk to him myself, see if he noticed anybody hanging around the van, anybody who might have been out of place or who seemed familiar."

"I'll see what I can do."

"And, Jim, you might want to tell Blair about what we're going to be looking at."

"He doesn't need to know about this."

Simon stood up and drained the rest of his coffee. He tossed the cup into the trash before training his dark eyes on Jim. "Tell him. If he finds out on his own, he'll be hurt even worse."

Clenching his jaw, Jim nodded, wondering if the past would ever stop peeling off the scabs of his damaged life.

"So what you're saying here is that you went through a promiscuous period."

"That's one way of putting it, yeah."

Blair refused to make eye contact as he considered the situation. He bit his lower lip and kept his hands together on the table. "Studies show that most males go through periods of sexual experimentation in their teens and early twenties. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I didn't experiment, Chief. I fucked. Period."

Shifting uneasily in his chair, Blair frowned and pushed back a stubborn curl from his face. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot. "I get it, man. I don't need a fucking hammer to the head, okay?"

"I'm sorry."

Sitting at the end of the table, Jim leaned over to reach for Blair's hand. The younger man pulled away and stood up. He walked to the window and stayed there quietly for several long moments. Finally, he turned, the distress haunting his face. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because Simon thinks whoever's after us might be someone I slept with and pissed off."

"That's a stretch."

"Maybe, but he can't rule it out, not with the dog tags and pictures missing from my closet. I don't see how someone could've gotten those without me knowing. No one's been up there since I've been with you. That's been over two years now."

Blair's brow creased and he turned away again, his voice hushed. "You slept with all those men in our bed?"

"It wasn't our bed when I did it."

"Shit."

Jim walked over to stand behind Blair, wanting to hold him, but keeping his hands to himself. "It all stopped after you, baby. I swear. I never touched anyone after you."

Turning slowly, Blair sighed heavily. He blinked several times to clear his vision before reaching out and drawing Jim into his arms. "I know that. I just hate thinking of you with somebody else."

"They didn't mean anything."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"It should."

Blair pulled away and shook his head. "You don't get it."

"What's to get?"

"It's not about you sleeping around. It's about the fact that none of it mattered to you. Didn't you have feelings for anybody you slept with?"

"They were strangers, Blair. I didn't want to have feelings."

"Just sex."

"Yeah, just sex." Ashamed, Jim turned away, slumping down on the couch. He leaned forward and dropped his head to his hands. He hated that part of his life, hated how he'd let his body control his actions, let men touch and humiliate him. He got off on other men using pain to make the real hurt go away. Taking risks made him hard, the more dangerous, the better. Names and faces just got in the way of the pleasure.

The cushion sagged beside him and a familiar hand settled on his thigh. "It's okay, Jim."

"No, it's not. If Jasper died because I fucked the wrong man and I don't even remember, how messed up is that?"

"We don't know that's the case."

"We don't not know it."

"I don't know what you want me to say here. I love you. It makes me sad that you went through all this stuff before we met. I can't imagine what it must have been like."

"Empty."

"What?"

"It was empty. Sure, it was hot when it was going on, but afterwards, I couldn't get the guy out fast enough. It's all a blur. Hell, sometimes I'd wake up and not even remember bringing the fucker home."

"You had black outs?"

"I guess. I don't remember."

"I think that's the point." Blair rubbed between Jim's shoulders gently, his voice softer. "Look, we're tired. It's after two. We need to pick up Tim at the airport at eleven. Let's get some sleep."

"Omar's picking him up and bringing him by the office. I'm going over the files with Simon at nine."

"You still need to sleep."

Jim sat still while Blair got up and headed down the hall to the bathroom. "You okay, Chief?"

"I'm fine. Go on. I'll be up in a minute."

Jim watched Blair shut the door before he headed up the stairs and settled on the edge of the bed. Even the distance and closed door couldn't block out the sad sound of his lover's long, wet cries. Falling back on the bed, arms outstretched, Jim squeezed his eyes shut. Tears stung his cheeks as they burned and salted his skin.

Moments later, Blair climbed on the bed beside him, his tongue licking away the pain, his eager mouth trying to kiss away the shame.

Simon dropped another file on the pile before picking up a new one from the smaller stac