WHERE ANGELS TREAD
© January 2003 by Charlotte Frost

 

PART ONE

Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder as he walked past the dining room table. "All right, Chief, I'm off. Hopefully, Naomi will be here when she said."

Blair, sitting at the table with his laptop, took off his glasses and grinned. "Naomi will get here when she gets here. She said something about stopping to shop at Cascade's newest New Age store beforehand."

Jim restrained a sigh. Naomi hadn't visited in nearly a year. The only thing that brought her to Cascade now was the enticement of some major news from Blair.  Though Blair kept assuring him that Naomi would be delighted at the news, Jim couldn't help but have some doubts. Even his own father's reaction, mild as it was, had bristled. It wasn't that his father had been shocked, but more that he hadn't been shocked. Somehow, that had been more difficult to swallow than disapproval.

"Parents," Jim muttered under his breath as he prepared to face the Cascade winter air and shut the door behind him. He pushed the button on the elevator.

At least he and Blair, collectively, only had two parents to deal with, instead of four. That might not be a proper thing to be happy about, but it was honest nonetheless.

The elevator creaked as it came to rest at the third floor. Jim prepared to enter as the doors opened. He suddenly found himself face to face with Naomi, who carried a shopping bag in each hand.

They stared at each other in surprise. Then she burst into a smile. "Jim!"  She dropped her bags and threw her arms around him.

"Naomi," he laughed, belatedly returning the hug. The exuberance of her greeting had caught him off guard. As with previous hugs, he noticed what a petite, fragile figure she had.

"Oh, Jim Ellison," she flirted, stepping back. She squeezed his biceps. "Those muscles just get stronger and stronger every time I see you. You're an ideal example that men just start to reach their prime in their forties."  She beamed at him. "I wish more men realized that and took care of themselves better, instead of giving up by thinking they're over the hill and letting themselves go. How about a kiss?"

Take a breath, Naomi. Jim sensed her disappointment as he bypassed her waiting mouth and kissed her on the cheek. He had no desire to point out that his superior physical condition had just as much to do with a highly active sex life with her son as it did with sessions in the gym. No matter how much Blair insisted that Naomi would be "cool" about any such talk, Jim had no intention of ever mentioning sex in front of her. If that made him old-fashioned, then so be it.

When he pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing up at him, as though he was a statue worthy of worship. He felt there was something wrong with this picture and gently cleared his throat. "Blair is inside."

Her face lit up as she slapped him playfully on the arm. "Yes, let's go see my boy."  She started down the hall, letting him take the shopping bags, then glanced back at the elevator. "Were you heading out?"  Her voice was worried.

"Uh, yeah. You and Blair haven't seen each other in so long that I wanted you to have some time together."

"Jim," she scolded as he got out his key, "that's not necessary. Blair and I don't have any secrets from you."

"I know," he said as he paused after inserting the key, "but Blair has some important news for you, and I thought you two should be alone."

She regarded him worriedly. "He said it was good news."

Jim grinned. "It is."  I hope. He turned the key and pushed the door open. "Hey, Chief, look who just came off the elevator."

Blair was out of his chair, leaving his glasses on the table, and coming toward the door with his arms outstretched. "Mom!"

They embraced tightly, swinging each other back and forth. "Blair, it's so good to see you," she gushed.

Jim placed her bags near the coat rack. He waited until mother and son pulled back, then said, "I'll be going."

Naomi quickly turned to him. "You don't need to leave, Jim."  She looked back at her son. "Why does he have to leave?"

Blair took his mother's hand and started back toward the table. "He doesn't. But he wanted to give us time to talk and catch up. Don't worry, Mom, Jim and I have already been through this."  He stopped before the table and grinned at her. "I have some news. Remember?"

Jim took his opportunity and made the motion of a salute. "I'll be back for dinner."  He quickly stepped out and closed the door, his hearing catching another protest.

The elevator was still there and he gratefully stepped into it. He wondered if this was really going to go as smoothly as Blair had insisted it would. He rubbed the back of his neck. I have a bad feeling about this. He'd had that feeling as the time got closer and closer for Naomi's scheduled visit. Now, Naomi having just arrived, his feeling of unease had only increased.

---

Blair took his mother's coat. "Mom, sit down. Relax."  He turned to hang up the coat and noticed the bags. "Oh, you've been spending big-time at The New Camelot, I see. Anything in there to drink?"  He peeked in but didn't feel like rummaging. It was good to finally have Naomi here so he could give her such important news, albeit news that was already five months old. He turned to the kitchen. "I've got some coffee on. It's a really good gourmet blend. Jim's brother, Stephen, got it for us for Christmas. Jim and I love it, and we might buy a whole year's worth when it runs out."

"Sure, that's fine, dear."

Blair furrowed his brow as he reached into the cabinet for a mug. While pouring from the coffeemaker he glanced over at his mother and noticed her frown. "Is everything okay, Naomi? You seem distracted."  He hoped he'd kept the disappointment out of his voice.

She turned to face him and gave him one of her full-blown smiles. "Not at all, sweetie. It's just good to finally be here."  Her eyes glanced around the loft. "This is such a comfortable home."

Blair grinned widely as he brought their mugs to the table, and then sat across from her. "Yeah, it's feels more like a home to me than ever."  Hint, hint. "I don't think I'll ever want to leave here. I know Jim wouldn't either."

She took a sip and then smiled openly at him. "Jim looks good."

He nodded. "Jim always looks good."  They shared a laugh.

Okay, his mother still had a crush on Jim. But that would make things better, wouldn't it? She'd have the pleasure of knowing that Jim would always be a part of her life.

They sipped their coffee and Blair waited for his mother to ask about his news. When she didn't, he inquired, "How was Mexico?"  She'd been there the past month, visiting friends.

"Hot," she replied with a smile. "Peaceful."  She sighed longingly. "Stunningly beautiful in its own way."

Blair nodded slowly. Okay, time to be straightforward. "Why haven't you asked me about my news?"

Her shoulders sagged. "Since you haven't told me yet, I'm worried that it's not as good as you've kept saying. And you wanting Jim to leave just makes me even more nervous."

He put down his coffee and held up his hands. "No, no. I didn't want Jim to leave. We've been talking about it for days, and Jim insisted that he wanted us to have time to be together, so you'd feel more comfortable in case... you know, you're really surprised."

"Am I going to be surprised, Blair?"  Her tone was clipped.

He decided she really was worried. He laughed. "I don't know. I go back and forth on it. Mostly, I guess, I think you'll be somewhat surprised, but I think you'll be really happy."  He didn't want any more of this polite conversation. "But you'll be honest and tell me if you're not, right?"

"Of course."

He waited again for her to ask what the news was. But she was staring at her coffee. I'm not being fair, he decided. "Mom, you know, while you're here, you'll stay in my room like before."  He'd just barely managed to keep from saying my old room and give it away too quickly. "Only... I won't be sleeping on the couch."
        
She looked up at him. "Then where will you be sleeping?"

He was disappointed that she wasn't trying to figure it out. "In Jim's bedroom."  There.

Her expression didn't change. "Then where will Jim be sleeping?"

"Mooom," he scolded with a smile. "You're being a little dense here."  Or was she teasing him? She'd always had a brilliant sense of humor, and Blair had been the envy of all the other kids for that reason alone.

She blinked, but didn't say anything.

Okay, okay, time to stop playing around. "There's no reason for Jim to sleep anywhere other than his own bed. It's just... I'll be there, too. Like I've been for the last five months."

"You're sleeping with Jim?"

She sounded almost indifferent, which Blair attributed to shock; maybe also that he'd dragged out the drama for too long. "Yes, Naomi. Jim and I," he smiled warmly, "we're a couple. That's my news."  His grin widened.

"A couple of what?"

"MOM!" he protested.

"All right, all right."  She took a gulp of her coffee.

He studied her, seeing the background fade to gray. "You aren't happy," he said solemnly. "I thought you would be happy."

"I'm surprised," she admitted. "And I guess this means there won't ever be any Sandburg grandchildren."

Blair's mouth fell open. He had entered the Twilight Zone. His eyes narrowed as he leaned toward his mother. "Naomi, when have you ever said anything about wanting grandchildren? You've never even said anything about me finding a nice girl and settling down, like other mothers. And if I ever did, I know you'd be the mother-in-law from hell. You've always wanted to be the only woman in my life."

She finally looked up at him. "But that doesn't mean you couldn't at least leave some little Blairs around."

Blair sputtered. "How could you think I'd ever do that? Or want to do that? Mom, you think I loved being a bastard so much that I'd do that to some other innocent life?"

Her face hardened. "Don't call yourself that."

He stared at her. "It's a fact. It's what I am. I think I turned out just fine, all things considered. But I wouldn't go... planting... little Blairs around, merely for the sake of procreation, and then shuck all responsibility for them. And besides, even if I'd had, it's not like you'd have a right to act as their grandmother."  He sputtered again. "Where is this grandmother stuff coming from, Naomi?"  Needing to move, he went to the counter and grabbed the coffee pot, topping off both their cups.

"I don't know," she admitted, sounding a bit more like the Naomi he was used to. He returned to his seat as she said, "It's just that I'm getting older and I see other people my age with grandchildren, and... it just seems that it would be nice to have some young people in my life as I age."

Blair shook his head. "There aren't going to be any grandchildren, Naomi. That's a fact. Let's get back to reality. Jim and I are as good as married."  He watched her gaze lower to her coffee. Not hiding his disappointment, he muttered, "I really thought you would be happy that I'd found love. And happier still that you had another son, so to speak, instead of a daughter-in-law to compete with. And most happiest that the person I fell in love with was Jim, because I thought you liked Jim a lot."

She looked up again. "I do like Jim. I adore Jim. I just never thought... you and him...."

Blair reached across and took her hand. "But we have. We did. We are. Even though, in a lot of ways, things are the way they've always been, I have such a sense of," he shook his head, smiling now, for this is what he'd really wanted to share with his mother. "Of peace. A sense of belonging. A confidence that I'm doing now what I was put on this earth to do."  He released her hand, but his smile stayed. "I had this whole," his eyes darted to the ceiling in wonder, "spiritual awakening about my place in Jim's life - and his in mine - and where the gift of his senses is concerned. I'm doing what I'm supposed be doing, Mom. With Jim."  

He was tempted to say more, but their success in Major Crimes was getting to be a double-edged sword. He and Jim were in such demand on so many cases that their lives were becoming ones where exhaustion was with them almost permanently. Yet, there was the restlessness Blair felt that they should be doing more, that they shouldn't be confining their combined gift to the city of Cascade. But he hadn't reflected upon that feeling enough to bring it up to Jim yet.

She was looking at him, studying him. "He loves you?"

"Yes, Mom."  He wondered at the question. It was asking more than the words conveyed, the tone hinting puzzlement at how that was possible. "Jim is...."  He grinned again, looking at Naomi even as an unexpected bashfulness came over him. "He's.... Well, our sex life is.... You can't imagine. I couldn't imagine. I didn't even realize, with him being a sentinel, how it could be for the person he loves."  His grin widened as he hid his face behind his coffee cup.

"There's more to love than sex, sweetie."

Blair put his cup down. This was his mother making that statement? His smile faded as he considered the blunt words - blunt words that she'd been throwing at him ever since her arrival. Levelly, trying to rein in his growing hurt, he said, "I know that, Mom. I'm just surprised that you do."

She frowned at him.

He felt some of the hurt turn into anger. "I've learned about love, despite your upbringing that sex is the only way to express it."

Now she looked appalled.

Oh, God. Why did I have to say that? But she wasn't saying anything, just regarding him with an expression that he'd never seen before. Contempt? No, that couldn't be right. "Have I disappointed you so much because I've actually found love and settled down? That I work for a local branch of the government that you've always hated?"  Still, her eyes watched him. He couldn't take it anymore and pleaded, "Why are we arguing with each other?"

That broke the spell. Her face softened into a maternal one and she reached to squeeze his hand. "Oh, sweetie, I don't know. I wasn't expecting this. I wish you had told me before about you and Jim, so I had time to process it before we met again."

He squeezed her hand gratefully. "I thought it was too important to tell you in an email, or over the phone. I've been telling Jim all along that you wouldn't take it badly. That you didn't have any problem with us both being men. It never occurred to me that the grandchild angle would matter to you. I thought you'd be glad that Jim would now be a permanent part of us."

"Jim isn't the problem," she quickly assured, patting his hand and then pulling back.

"What is?" he wondered. If it's not Jim, then who is it? "Is it...." he felt his voice quaver, remembering her tone when she'd asked if Jim loved him. "Is it me? Do you think I'm not worthy of Jim?"

"Oh, Blair, how can you ask that?"  She was on her feet, rubbing at her temple.

He rose, standing across the table from her. "I don't understand you, Naomi. I don't understand what the problem is. Help me out here."

"He's a little old for you, don't you think?"  She wasn't looking at him.

"Old for me?" he repeated, completely confused. "Since when is age ever a basis for a relationship?"  His voice tightened. "I seem to remember you sleeping with a few men old enough to be your father, if not your grandfather."  He swallowed thickly. "I thought you said it doesn't have anything to do with Jim."

"You talk like I'm a slut," she said, glancing at him.

"I'm just stating facts," he pleaded, "not trying to make a judgment. Unlike you, where Jim and I are concerned."  He moved to her, placing his hands on her arms, and deliberately gentled his voice. "Mom, quit beating around the bush and making all these ridiculous excuses. What is it that's making you so unhappy about Jim and me?"

She turned and looked at him sadly. "I thought, when I visited this time, that I would try to start something with him."

Blair felt his jaw lower as his muscle released it in shock. I'm an idiot. He'd been trying to keep Jim and Naomi from doing anything "improper" during Naomi's first visit. "You want him," he said, hearing the accusation in his voice.

She nodded, turning away.

Blair let his hands drop and shuffled away from her, his perfect world unraveling before him. "He's mine," he said simply.

"Are you his?"

He looked up, saw her looking back at him. Not angry. But almost challenging.

He snorted. "My word isn't enough, is it? That I love him isn't enough for you? You have to have confirmation from him that he wants me before you'll believe that he doesn't want you?"  I can't believe I'm having this conversation - with my own mother, of all people.

"I've hurt you, sweetie. I never wanted that. I thought you would be glad if Jim and I could start something. If I'd known about you and him before, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

My fault, he realized. He'd enjoyed the idea of surprising her so much that he'd never considered that prolonging the secret would have the worst sort of consequences. Still... "Would it have mattered?" he asked, though his voice was weak with shock and despair. "Would you have just let it go, after I told you?"  Are you going to let it go now?

"I'd better go."  She went to the door and got her coat.

Blair blinked at her. Despite his relief, he questioned, "Mom?"

She didn't answer, continuing to put on her winter gear.

"That's it?" Blair asked. "You're just... leaving? Where are you going?"

She swung her scarf around her neck. "I'll be in touch."

"WHEN?" Blair demanded as the door slammed shut.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, staring at it. Of the billions of people in the world, how many can say that they've had to compete with their own mother for the love of their life?

He swallowed thickly. She doesn't love me.

No, that can't be right. I've always felt loved by her. This can't wipe that all away. He felt his eyes water. But it feels like she doesn't.

How could she do this?

He wiped angrily at his eyes and grabbed the cordless phone, hitting the speed dial.

"Ellison."

He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady. "Jim? You can come home."

"Blair? What's wrong?"

He swallowed again. "It... didn't go well."  His voice trembled. "She left. Please come home, Jim."  Tell me you want me and not her.

Silence. Blair could imagine his partner's confusion. Then, "I'm ten minutes away, buddy."

Blair nodded. He wanted to say something in acknowledgement, but his throat was too tight. He hit the End button, cutting the line.

---

Jim put the phone down and shifted the truck into Drive. He'd been in the drive-thru line at a Taco Bell for an afternoon snack, hoping to ease the chill of winter. Now he pulled out of the line and into traffic.

Blair had sounded upset. Granted, Jim had always thought that Blair was too optimistic about Naomi's reaction to them being together. Yet, when Blair had asked him for specifics, Jim had to admit he couldn't lay his finger on any particular aspect of their relationship that would bother Naomi. All he could think of was that he knew there was such a thing as agreeing with something philosophically, but not when it affected oneself personally. Maybe the fact of her son's homosexuality had thrown Naomi for a loop, no matter how free-spirited she appeared on the surface.

Still, Blair's troubled tone had hinted at more than simple shock or disagreement on Naomi's behalf. And it had gotten so bad that Naomi had left? Or had Blair thrown her out? No, Jim couldn't imagine a situation that would have caused the latter. Therefore, Naomi had to have left. Hence, the despair in Blair's tone.

His foot weighed more heavily on the accelerator.

A hurt Blair was something with which he had minimal experience. Most of those times had been wrapped up in issues that dealt with himself. In an odd way, he felt some sense of control if he had a hand in causing Blair pain. But Blair's own mother.... No, despite his trepidation that she might not take this all as easily as Blair had thought, Jim hadn't expected her to say anything to actually hurt him.

Jim bounded up the stairs to the third floor, his anxiety increasing as he got closer. He unlocked the door and threw it open. "Blair!"

His sentinel hearing strained to hear whispered words. "Up here."

Jim noticed that Naomi's shopping bags were still beneath the coat rack. He disposed of his own jacket and jogged up the stairs. "Chief?"

His pace slowed when he saw Blair on the bed, on top of the covers, his shoes still on, curled in a tiny, miserable ball.

"What happened?" Jim sat on the edge. His hand went to the back of Blair's sweatshirt.

Blair squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't think anything could hurt this bad."

Jim rubbed Blair's back. He couldn't imagine.... "What did she say?"

It was painful watching the way Blair's eyelids squeezed even tighter together. "She doesn't want me to have you," he replied in a strained whisper.

It was strange the way Blair worded it. Jim could only ask, "Why not?"  His hand moved in slow circles along Blair's back. What she wants doesn't matter. But why wouldn't she approve?

Blair's eyes opened with a calmness that filled Jim with trepidation. They almost seemed accusing as they turned to him. "She wants you."

Jim's hand stopped. Even as he acknowledged the truth of the words, he couldn't imagine Naomi ever telling Blair that, or letting it interfere with her son's happiness.
  
Nervously, Jim laughed. "That's ridiculous."  But he knew that Blair knew that he knew. His hand started rubbing again.

Blair's gaze stayed on him. "You're attracted to her."  As level as the tone was, it was still accusing.

But surely he knows that doesn't matter.

Jim felt something sink within. Ever since he and Blair had been sleeping together, he had to deal with Blair's insecurities about Jim's love for him. They finally had gotten past that and the last two or three months had been stable and content. Happy. Busy and exhausting in a fulfilling way. And the sex....

With his other hand, he brushed Blair's cheek with the backs of his fingers. The skin was cold. "Yes," he admitted. "I'm attracted to her."  He smiled, glad to feel the genuineness of what he was about to say. "Remember when we got that visit a few weeks back from Sergeant Reed of Tacoma? I was attracted to her, too."  Blair knew that. They had even enjoyed discussing it. Sergeant Reed was a knockout. A man would have to be blind to not want her. "Naomi is an attractive woman, Blair. But that's as far as it goes. She's fun in small doses."  His thumb brushed along Blair's cheek. He knew that resorting to the sentinel stuff was what would hit home with Blair. "You also know that if I get within ten feet of an attractive woman, my senses are going to kick in and I'm not going to want her, because my senses will be saturated with the fact that she's the wrong one for me."  It hit him, suddenly, what a bizarre conversation this was. I'm having to prove my love to Blair by telling him I don't want his mother? Dear God, why would he ever think...?

"Blair."  His thumb now rubbed along a lower eyelid. Blair was staring into space. "Do you really think that I want your mother? Sentinel or not, she's not my type."  He saw a minute slackening of Blair's jaw. He gently slapped it, then grinned. "But then, you aren't my type either, Darwin. Yet, here I am. With you."  The humor left, and now he gripped Blair's arm. "I don't want anybody else. You're stuck with me, whether you want me or not."  No reaction. He shook Blair's arm. "You hear me?"

Finally, the hint of a pained smile. Then Blair's eyes darted to him. They closed and he nodded.

"God, Chief."  Jim couldn't stand to see that hurt. He moved on the bed, gathering Blair up. "Tell me what happened."  He rested back against the pillows, drawing Blair against him.

An audible swallow. "She wasn't happy when I told her. She was saying all this crap about how she'd never have grandchildren - as if she ever wanted grandchildren - and how you were too old for me. Stupid stuff like that. When I finally pinned her down on the real problem, she said...." Blair's voice caught, and Jim squeezed harder. "She said she'd hoped she could get something going with you."

"What?" Jim asked incredulously, though he already knew how true Blair's words were. He recalled Naomi's gushing enthusiasm upon seeing him at the elevator, and her not even asking about Blair or hurrying to see him.

Blair turned to face Jim and put his arms around his neck, squeezing. His quiet, muffled voice said, "She doesn't want me to have you, because she wants you instead."

"Good God."  Jim held Blair tight. He didn't want this - to be in the middle of the amorous desires of his partner and his mother, for God's sake. But... "Chief, you know it doesn't matter, right? It doesn't matter how much of a fantasy she may have about me. I don't want her. Dear God, I don't want her at all."  Jim clamped down on his temptation to say more. He realized that by reassuring Blair, he was speaking badly of his mother. Please let us be able to laugh about this some day.

Jim furrowed his brow, wondering just how seriously Blair was taking this. "Chief... you don't think she had a chance with me, do you?"

There was a pause, then the head of hair shook back and forth against his shoulder and neck.

"Nobody has a chance with me. You know that, don't you?"

Faster this time, Blair nodded against him.

Jim relaxed. "I'm sorry, buddy. I can't imagine things escalating to a point where she would walk out."  He hesitated. "Just exactly what happened? Did she expect you to turn me over to her or something?"  That was too much to even imagine.

Blair brought his arms back down to hug himself as he rested against Jim. "She was acting weird from the moment she arrived. Distracted, you know? And then when I finally told her about us, she just seemed sort of numb. Unhappy. When she admitted that she hoped to get something started with you on this visit, I just... I just couldn't believe it. And then she realized - finally - how hurt I was and she thought she'd better leave."

Jim kissed Blair's temple, not able to even imagine how hard this must be for him. Blair had been thoroughly looking forward to Naomi's visit. "Is she leaving Cascade, or just leaving to give herself some space to think about it? I saw that her shopping bags are still here."

"I guess she forgot about them," Blair said, "but that doesn't necessarily mean she'll be back."  He shifted in Jim's arms, relaxing more. "She said she'd be in touch. She wouldn't tell me anything about where she was going or when she'd call again."

"Probably because she didn't know."

"Yeah," Blair admitted.

Jim gave him a reassuring hug. "I'll bet you anything she calls tonight, or even shows up at the door, and apologizes and begs your forgiveness."

"I don't think so," Blair said quietly. "But even if she did, it wouldn't just automatically make everything okay."  His voice was hard on the last.

Jim hoped Blair wouldn't get upset that he was trying to consider all the angles. Gently, he said, "She can't help how she feels, Chief."  He hesitated, feeling odd to be standing up for Naomi. "What I'm trying to say is it's not like she came here intending to hurt you. She didn't even know about us."

"I know," Blair said in a strange tone. "There's more going on here than just the stuff about you."

Puzzled, Jim said, "Between you and Naomi?"

Blair nodded, and abruptly his arms were back around Jim's neck, his faced buried in his shoulder. Jim's heart ached and he didn't even know why. "What?" he asked gently, arms pulling snug. He couldn't imagine how Naomi could hurt Blair more than she already had.

Blair wriggled until his cheek was resting on the top of Jim's shoulder, facing away.

"Huh?" Jim prompted after a lengthy silence.

It took a long time, but Blair finally said, "It feels like she doesn't love me."

Jim pressed his hand harder against Blair's back. "No, no. That's not true. You know that's not true. Naomi might be messed up right now, but bad judgment on her part doesn't take away the tremendous love she has for you."  How could Blair even think that? A part of Jim wanted to scold him for being melodramatic, for making this situation worse than it already was.

"No," Blair insisted, straightening and sitting back so he could look at Jim. His eyes were sad. "Listen to me. She was saying things, asking things."  His voice caught. "It was like she wasn't even interested.... "  His eyes lowered and he choked out, "There was so much I wanted to tell her about what's gone on with me, but she wasn't interested."

Jim opened his mouth to point out that Naomi's mind was obviously elsewhere, but Blair turned away and spoke again.

"And I've been lying here, remembering things. Things I've always known, but never wanted to believe."  Blair lay back down, gazing at the ceiling.

Jim placed his hand on Blair's chest, preparing to dispute whatever he was going to say. "What?" he asked in disbelief.

The sad eyes darted to him. "I was an accident. I messed up a lot of things for her when I came along. Took away a lot of her freedoms. Still, she was a good mother, despite all that. But when I was smart enough to get into college at sixteen, she was relieved to be rid of me. She didn't have to worry about me anymore. She wasn't responsible any more."

Blair had always seemed to talk so fondly of his childhood and the fun he'd had growing up with Naomi, that Jim had no choice but to think that the negative memories now were all exaggerated. More importantly.... "Chief, I've seen you with your mother. She thinks the world of you. I can't believe she ever felt as crass about you as you make it sound."

"She thinks the world of me because it's easy and convenient and I fit into her schedule whenever she has time for me. Now, I've fucked up her plans, big-time. So, I'm not convenient any more. Now she just wants to go away and lick her wounds and be done with me, until it's convenient for her to interact with me again."

Jim's mouth fell open, prepared to protest. But Naomi had left, proving there was some truth to Blair's words.

Jim took a slow, steady breath. He had no experience with family traumas such as this. In his own family, feelings had been buried rather than shared. It felt odd talking about something like this so openly. What's more, as Blair had relayed his feelings, his tone had changed from one of hurt to one of anger.

Jim sighed, his hand on Blair's chest rubbing gently through the sweatshirt. He confessed, "It's hard for me to believe what you're saying. I remember when your mother told you, in front of Simon and I, that she was proud of you. She sounded completely sincere."

"She was sincere," Blair said without emotion, his jaw firm. "She was proud of me because she'd been reassured that she didn't need to feel responsible for me. Even though I was working in the very institution she'd spent her life protesting against, it was okay with her because it meant I wasn't going to ever be her problem again."

The lack of emotion was now more painful to Jim than Blair's hurt. He encouraged Blair back into his arms. "Don't hold this in," he pleaded. "You weren't made to hold your feelings in. It'll poison you."  He squeezed tight, his cheek resting on top of Blair's head. "Don't let it poison you."

Blair's face pressed against Jim's chest, his eyes pinched shut. "There's so much I wanted to tell her."  The pain was back.   

Jim rubbed his back. "I know."  Blair had been so eager, for months now, to let his mother know about them. But also, the meditation session he'd had at the pond that had changed Blair, had made him a stronger, more confident person. Now that confidence was unraveling in Jim's arms as Blair's fists gripped his shirt.

Jim waited, but Blair was working on breathing exercises and seemed determined not to yield to tears or outrage. Jim relaxed and reached for Blair's nearest leg. He pulled it toward him and began untying the laces to his shoes.

"Jim, I don't want to do anything," Blair protested, his eyes still closed.

Granted, Jim was ready to do anything to make Blair feel better, and their lovemaking always made Blair happy and exhausted and sated. But that wasn't what he had in mind. Besides, he'd gotten used to Blair taking almost all the initiative with sex. Blair was in charge of all things concerning their combined sentinel abilities and sex had somehow ended up under that heading.

The shoe was off and Jim rolled down the sock. As he pulled the other leg close enough to work with the laces, he soothed, "I'm just going to try to help you relax."

Blair loosened his grip and then wrapped his arms tightly around himself. "Oh, God, I told her how great the sex was."  Now he covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe I told her that!  I'm such a jerk."

Jim wasn't sure what to say. He'd already told Blair he refused to have any sex while Naomi was under the same roof. Their bedroom was too out in the open. But he'd accepted that Blair was comfortable talking with her about sex, even though he couldn't relate to how anyone could share something like that with a parent. But now that Naomi had revealed her own desires for Jim, he could imagine how, in retrospect, it hadn't been the best thing to brag about the sensual advantages of sex with a sentinel.

The footwear was off both feet. "Here," Jim coaxed Blair's hands away from his face. He lifted Blair's sweatshirt, grateful when Blair raised his arms helpfully. The t-shirt followed. Jim shifted and opened the jeans. "Come on, off with those."  He pulled back the bedding, encouraging Blair to move. "Get under the covers, on your stomach."

Blair disposed of his jeans and boxers, then did as Jim directed. Jim pulled the covers partially up Blair's back, then straddled him and started massaging his shoulders. He found the tight spots around Blair's neck and shoulders, and he massaged them with sentinel-sensitive fingers.

Blair started to relax.

If Blair wanted sex, Jim would provide it. But a part of him was relieved that Blair had said he didn't want it. Their sex life was intense, thanks to Jim's sentinel sensitivity. It was pleasurable beyond what Jim had ever been able to imagine. But it was also exhausting. Between exhausting themselves on the job, and exhausting themselves in their bed, they had almost no time for other recreation. A session in the gym - when they had the time and the energy - was a treat. Most of their weekends, interrupted with a priority case more often than not, were spent trying to catch up on sleep. Yet, Jim was happy in a way he'd never expected. He'd never felt so connected before. He was a valuable part of the world he lived in. There was no longer the nagging thought, left over from childhood, that he was one of nature's mistakes.

"Jim?"

"What?"  He was pleased that Blair sounded more like his normal self. He moved the covers back and his hands moved down the newly exposed flesh.

"I'm going to tell Simon that you need a vacation. At least a week, but hopefully two. Your senses have been working overtime, and we need to get you to a secluded place where you can extend them and not get hit with all the noises and chaos of the city."

Jim didn't feel he needed a vacation, but he didn't bother voicing it. He'd come to realize that a big part of his happiness had to do with the fact that he no longer felt responsible for his senses. Blair was in charge of that. Blair took all the responsibility for what Jim could and could not do. Jim had learned to simply go along. Blair had even explained it to him once - about why Jim, normally a control freak, was so content with yielding to Blair. Blair had pointed out that Jim had a past of following orders. Though he was quite capable, when it was necessary, of handling responsibility, he felt more relaxed within the confines of an established hierarchy, where each participant in the chain of command knew when to give orders and when to take them. In their two-man hierarchy of Jim's sentinel abilities, Blair was in charge. The safety of Cascade no longer felt as though it were solely on Jim's shoulders.

Working on a knot in Blair's lower back, Jim said, "That might be tough. Simon is going to put up an argument."

"He's not going to have a choice. You're not some robot that law enforcement in Cascade can turn on or off at will. If Simon wants you healthy and in top working order, he'll agree."

Jim decided against pointing out that he sometimes did feel like something of a robot at the beck and call of his master. Only, his master wasn't the city of Cascade. It was Blair. The world's great taskmaster, he thought with affection.

"Feels so good," Blair whispered, closing his eyes.

Jim smiled to himself and let his hands move down and expose Blair's rump. Even knowing this wasn't foreplay, he could feel his senses start to move up the dials, especially his sense of touch, as he massaged the twin globes. The body of the man lying beneath him was the one that gave his senses carnal pleasure, and after five months of intense sex, his senses were trained to have certain expectations.

Part of Jim focused on the pleasure of his forming erection, the feel of the blood pumping through him. Despite all the things they'd done in their sexual marathons, and all the ways they'd done them, when it got down to it, the one thing Jim enjoyed the most was fucking Blair. His cock was happiest when it was buried in Blair's body, the nerve endings experiencing Blair's ass, the pleasure that Blair felt. When he fucked him nice and slow, Blair didn't seem to care if he had an orgasm or not. He just liked the feeling of being fucked so lovingly.

Blair's ass was his sheath; it was where his cock belonged. Where it felt at home. He'd been born with a cock for the sole purpose of putting it up Blair's ass. Somewhere in the past few months, he'd fallen in love with his own sentinel abilities. They gave Blair pleasure. Pleasing Blair had become the focus of his existence.

"Are you hard?"  Blair's eyes were still closed, but the question was forthright.

Jim realized he was breathing heavy and his flesh was quivering.

Blair turned over, looking up at him with compassion. "Think of the dials," he directed softly. "Turn them down... down...."

Jim's eyes closed as soon as Blair spoke. He obeyed because that's what he had learned to do these past months. Obey Blair, and his world made so much more sense than it ever had in the past.

The phone rang, and Jim gasped from the sound assaulting his ears.

"Easy," Blair soothed. "Turn it down. You're in control."

The second ring sounded normal and his erection was gone.

He met Blair's troubled eyes. It was either Naomi or Simon. Neither was a pleasant prospect.

"Will you answer it, please?" Blair said, his voice small and childlike. Such a contrast to how it had sounded mere seconds ago.

Jim picked up the cordless phone. "Ellison."

Naomi said, "Jim?"

"Naomi," Jim said, looking at Blair, who frowned and swallowed audibly.

Silence. When Jim refused to make the first move, she said, "I suppose Blair told you what a mess I made of things."

The self-deprecation only irritated Jim, just as it did whenever Blair went that route during a disagreement. "Yes, he did. He's right here," he offered.

Blair shook his head and moved back against the railing.

Jim really did not want to be in the middle of this.

"Jim, I'd like to talk to you."

"Why don't you come back here?"  He bit his tongue before saying, And we can work this out. How could something like this be "worked out"?

"No. No. I'd like to speak with you alone."

Jim sighed into the phone. "Naomi, I'm not interested in you. I never was. You've got no chance with me. You need to understand that."

She spat, "My God, Jim Ellison. Do you think I feel that way, now that I know you and Blair are together?"

"Then... why don't we all meet and see if we can start over?"  Jim wasn't sure if they could, but he never wanted it to be said that he wasn't exceedingly generous in extending the olive branch.

"I-I'd like to speak with you, Jim. Alone. Please."

"What about Blair?"

"I-I can't see him right now. I just can't. Please. Just grant me this."

He frowned. "Hang on."  He looked at Blair, who was pressed back against the railing at the head of the bed. "She insists she wants to meet with me alone. I don't know why. It's up to you, Chief."  Jim again wondered how he'd ended up in the middle of mother and son. Yet, he had to admit he was curious as to what she had to say. Hopefully, she would say something that would make everything better.

Blair quickly nodded. "Go ahead. I'm for anything that might shed some light..." he trailed off, his voice unsteady.

Jim put the phone to his ear. "All right, Naomi. But don't ask me to keep any secrets from Blair. Anything we say to each other is for his ears, too."

"I'm not worried about that. I just want to see you. I'm at the Hilton on Twenty-Second Avenue. Can we meet in the coffee shop?"

"All right. I can be there in twenty minutes."

"Thank you, Jim."  Her voice was soft.

Jim hung up and patted Blair's leg. "I'll try to get her to come back here. Your relationship is too important to have it go sour, especially over something like this."  He grabbed a clean shirt. "You're both forgiving people. It's going to be okay."

Jim turned to the stairs, then glanced back at Blair, who was resting against the railing with a lost expression. "It's going to be okay, Chief."

Blair's eyes darted to him. He managed a nod.

---

Naomi waved from a booth, wearing her usual smile. As Jim approached, he noticed that the lines around her eyes had deepened since she'd last visited, despite her heavy application of makeup. He sat down across from her and muttered, "Coffee, black," to the waiter.

Naomi was already stirring what looked like tea. "Thank you for seeing me."

He had no patience for beating around the bush. "Naomi, why did you leave like that? Surely, you realize it wasn't going to solve anything. All it accomplished was hurting Blair."

She looked at him sadly. "I seem to do that more and more, don't I?"

Self-deprecation again. To him, that approach had always hinted at word games and he didn't want to play. "You have a choice here, Naomi. Come back to the loft right now and apologize. He'll forgive you. What could be more important than re-establishing the close friendship you two have always had?"

She looked him up and down.

He shook his head. "Uh-uh. No. Don't look at me like that. I admit I played along before when you were so flirtatious. I enjoyed teasing Blair by playing along with you. But it isn't funny anymore. It never meant anything and I'm sorry if I gave you mixed signals. The important thing here is that Blair has grown into a magnificent man and he wants to share all that he is - all that he's become - with you. How can you turn away from him?"

She looked away as a coffee cup was placed before Jim. Then she looked back. "Are you going to listen, or just condemn me without a trial?"

"I'm listening."  He sipped from his cup, cradling it with both hands.

"I'm sorry I shocked Blair. If I had known about you and him, I never would have said anything."

"He understands that," Jim insisted. "But why did you leave like that? He was eager to see you, Naomi, so he could tell you everything that's happened to him the past few months. Can't you see the change in him?" he challenged.

She lowered his eyes. "He looks like my little Blair," she said quietly. "I hurt him again. I'm his mother. All I can see is the little boy in him."

"The little boy in him needs his mother, the one friend he's had all his life."  Jim shook his head, wondering why this was so hard for her. "How could you reject him like you did this afternoon? It doesn't make any sense."

"He doesn't need me," she said simply, lowering her eyes again.

Jim put his coffee down and sat back, studying the woman across from him. He'd questioned enough suspects to know when they were talking around the issue. "Naomi, Blair is over thirty. Of course, he doesn't need you the way a five-year-old would need you. But you're important to him. In some ways, more than I'll ever be, because you and he have a connection and a mutual understanding about your way of life that I'll never have."  He paused, watching her stare at her tea. "For God's sake, this isn't a competition. Are you trying to say that his being with me takes away from his love for you?"  When she didn't answer right away, his voice hardened. "Or is it just about him having something that you want?"

Her mouth tightened in anger at his words.

"Which is it, Naomi?" he pushed. "Blair's back at the loft right now, full of heartache, because he doesn't understand what went wrong. Neither do I. He's starting to remember things from the past to justify it to himself. I don't want to believe him, because it doesn't present you in a very admirable light, but now I'm starting to wonder if there's some truth to what he's remembering."

That hit home. "What do you mean?" she demanded. "What are you talking about?"

"You abandoned him to the world of academics when he was sixteen. To your credit, you gave him the tools growing up to live an independent life. After that, your only contact with him was when it was convenient for you. You'd shed your ball and chain and were free again."  

She put her hand to her forehead, lowering her gaze.

He studied her: her manner of dress, her wounded frown. "It's dawning on me, Naomi, that you're still the same person you were thirty years ago. The same values, the same searching. All those endless retreats."  He was on a roll and he taunted, "You move from one spiritual teacher to another, retreat to retreat, because you don't ever seem to learn anything from any of them, so you just keep searching.  At what point, Naomi, do you stop looking for the magical insight into who you are, and actually start living your life?"

She stared at him, her mouth agape.

"You know what I think?" Jim told her. "I think Blair scares you. He's already become all the things you've wanted to be. He doesn't just talk New Age mumbo-jumbo; he applies it.  He's got his whole life ahead of him. Yours has started its downward journey, and you don't know anything more about yourself than you did when you were pregnant with him."

"How dare you!" she snapped.

It felt good to be getting to her. "The ironic thing is, I thought the first precept of parenting was to always want your children to have a better life than yourself. But you're too selfish for that. You still have a seventeen-year-old's mentality that anywhere you are, all things are supposed to revolve around you. You come waltzing into Blair's life every six months or so, a whirlwind that stirs up everything around it so that you always end up being the center of attention."  

She glared at him but didn't speak.

He snorted, amazed at how perception could change a memory. "That first time you visited, you confronted Captain Banks about Blair's participation in the case we were working on. I see now that all you really wanted was to make yourself into a force to be reckoned with."  His frown deepened. "Just like you did when you came back with a famed psychic draped on your arm. Just like you did when you caused a national stir by sending Blair's rough draft to a publisher and driving a wedge between us."  

Her eyes searched him - he wasn't sure for what - and he felt satisfaction as he continued, "I'll even thank you for that one. It led to everything that followed after."  He drew a deep breath, then released it. "Then you come back a few months later, just to make sure Blair didn't hate you for the trouble you caused."  He snorted again. "Funny that in the forty-eight hours you were with us, I can't recall you even once asking Blair how he was doing."  He shook his head, letting a smile of bitter amusement cross his lips. "No, of course not. Once again, that visit had to be all about you."  

She was staring at him, as though amazed that he would attack her like this.

He almost took pity on her as he gulped the last of his coffee, then put the cup down. "And now... Blair has grown by leaps and bounds the past few months, and you can't stand that. So, you've got to create this huge drama," Jim's eyes flicked around the table, "and make sure that you've rattled us enough to keep us spinning long after you've gone."  

Jim swallowed thickly, deciding against asking for another coffee. "You don't have anything to worry about."  He reached into his pocket for his wallet. Seeing nothing less than a ten, he tossed it onto the table and stood, watching as her stunned expression hardened. "I've got to go home now and tell Blair that his own mother can't even face him to say goodbye. He'll hurt for a long time, Naomi. God knows how long it'll be before he'll smile again. And he'll never understand what he did wrong, no matter how much I tell him that your cowardice has nothing to do with him."  As the reality of that likelihood sunk in, Jim turned away and walked out.

The chilly twilight had turned into a frosty night, and he felt the cold bite the tops of his ears as he made his way to the truck. He pulled out his keys.

"Jim! Wait!"

He paused, relieved. He turned around, standing a few feet from the passenger side, and watched Naomi rush toward him. As she approached, he turned to unlock the door and swung it open for her.

"Jim," she said breathlessly as she came to stand before him. "Do you really think so little of me?"

He stood to the side of the door. "Get in. All I care about is Blair not being hurt any more than he already has been."  He shook his head, unable to fathom her. "He thinks the world of you, Naomi. He always has. You can't deny yourself that, no matter how little you may deserve it."  He knew that was harsh, but he was still feeling wounded on Blair's behalf.

She looked at him with large eyes that managed to look innocent. Then she shook her head. "I can't. I just wanted to tell you... to tell him... that I love him."

"Tell him to his face. For once, Naomi, think of someone other than yourself."  Jim deliberately softened his voice. "He's done you no harm. He doesn't deserve for me to drive back alone and have to say to him that you didn't care enough to tell him yourself."

"God, Jim, do you really think it's because I don't care? It's because I care too much. All right, there's probably some truth to some of the things you said."  Her voice trembled. "I don't want to mess things up for him."

Jim slammed the door shut and stepped closer to her. "You are a piece of work," he hissed. "Don't you dare try to use anything I've said as an excuse to hurt Blair."  He stepped back. "It's all on your shoulders, Naomi. You're responsible, and you're the only one with the power to fix this and make it better. You aren't a little, lost, pregnant seventeen-year-old anymore, going from man to man, trying to find a father for her son. You must have had some courage then, because it would have been easy to get rid of Blair - to get rid of the problem. What happened to that courage, Naomi?"   

"It wasn't courage."  Her voice trembled. "I didn't have the money. The only doctor I knew who would help me was arrested before my appointment."

"Does Blair know that?" Jim snapped, appalled, and yet knowing he shouldn't be surprised. He didn't want to hear this if Blair didn't already know about it.

"I'm sure he figured it out, overheard things. No, I never sat him down and told him. There was never any reason to. But it ended happily."  She smiled - genuinely. "He was the most beautiful little baby. I fell so in love with him."

"What happened?" Jim demanded, watching her shiver.

"He outgrew his need for me, long before I was ready for him to. He was all I ever had. Can you understand?" she pleaded. "I had to leave him before he left me. Sending him off to college was the best thing for him. His mind was brilliant, and an environment like that would cultivate it."

"He's never stopped wanting you in his life," Jim countered. "Just because he doesn't have a child's needs anymore doesn't mean he doesn't want time with you."  

Her expression didn't change.

Jim snorted, realizing he'd failed at changing her mind. "You're so content to hurt him by just walking away, after filling his mind with all that crap about wanting me - just because you couldn't bear for him to have a stable life. A stable life you've never had."  He drew a harsh breath. "You have to try to take that away from him, too."  He stepped away from her, needing to distance himself. "Your little whirlwind has blown itself out, Naomi. It's done such a good job of disrupting Blair's life that he'll be immune to it from here on out. You'll never have him back the way he was before."  He moved to the driver's side.

She pressed her hand to her face. "I know," she said in a small voice.

He opened the door, then paused. "You're pitiful," he told her. He got into the truck and slammed the door. He started it, angrily flipping the heater off after it blew out a puff of cold air.

He drove away, glancing in the rearview mirror out of habit. She was still standing there, her arms around herself in the cold.

He made a point of not looking back any more.

---

When Jim returned to the loft, Blair was dressed and looking at him anxiously from where he stood near the table, as though expecting company.

"I'm sorry, Chief," Jim said, hanging up his coat.

Blair's mouth hardened and he lowered his gaze. He made a half-hearted shrug. "I'm over thirty. I shouldn't need my mother anyway, should I?"  He looked up at Jim.

It was a feeble attempt at a joke. Or maybe it wasn't a joke. Jim could only approach him, muttering, "Blair" with compassion.

Jim stopped before Blair, who asked,  "What did I do to make her leave?"

Jim shook his head, words sticking in his throat. "You did nothing. Nothing. It was all about her. It had nothing to do with you. Nothing to do with me."

Blair regarded him fearfully. "Is she ever coming back?"

"I don't know."  Jim hated how his honesty kicked Blair again.

"What did she say to you?"

"Nothing that explained anything," Jim said with a sigh. "I don't understand it any more than you do, Chief."

"Did she say bad stuff about me?"  Blair's respiration increased.

Jim closed his eyes, but only briefly. Willing his voice to say calm, he said, "Of course not. How could she? This isn't about you, Blair. Her visits have never been about you. Her little dramatic stunt today showed how desperate she is to... make a splash that won't be forgotten for a long time."

Blair narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, as though trying to comprehend what Jim had said.

Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder and reached to flick off the lights. They hadn't had dinner. Tongue was in the refrigerator, and Jim wondered if Blair would throw it out, for cooking it would bring painful, rather than nostalgic, memories of Naomi.

As he switched off more lights, making it clear they were headed for bed, though it was early, he glanced back to watch Blair worry his lower lip while staring at the floor, his eyes growing brighter.

"Jim?"  Blair didn't look up. "Is there anything you're not telling me?"
  
Jim decided to leave the bathroom light on, and came back to where Blair was standing. He lifted Blair's chin with his finger and shook his head. "No," he replied, "there's nothing I'm not telling you."  That was true if Blair already knew Naomi had once considered aborting him. "She wanted me to tell you that she loves you."  His anger flared. "There. Isn't that helpful?" he asked sarcastically.

Blair closed his eyes.

Jim did what he'd restrained himself from doing upon entering the loft, waiting instead to take his cue from Blair. He grabbed his partner around the waist and lifted, bracing himself for taking Blair's full weight. He was rewarded when Blair's legs wrapped around him, and his arms went around Jim's upper body.

Jim headed for the stairs with his burden, noting the feel of Blair's cheek resting against his forehead. Just a few weeks ago, he'd carried Blair up the stairs like this. That had been a result of a taunt, and they'd both been laughing. Blair had half-heartedly protestedput me down before you hurt yourself amidst a fit of giggles. Jim had successfully made it up the staircase and deposited Blair on the bed, both of them eagerly anticipating their lovemaking.

This upward journey was more solemn, and Jim dialed up sight to make sure his feet landed securely on each step. His back was going to feel the abuse in the morning, but he didn't want to deny Blair his need to cling, which he did in rare moments when feeling insecure. Blair hadn't had one of those moments in quite a long time, it seemed.

Well, this moment's a doozy, Jim thought, noting Blair's complete silence. Damn you, Naomi.

When he lowered Blair onto the mattress, Jim undressed him a second time. He turned out the lights, stripped down to his underwear, then got beneath the covers. They lay on their backs, side by side.

"Talk to me," Jim pleaded, reaching to place a hand on Blair's stomach beneath the covers.

"I'm just trying to figure it out," Blair said in an even tone.

"There's no answer that makes any sense to anyone but Naomi."  Yet, even as he said the words, Jim's detective instincts kicked into gear. "Chief? You said she was talking about grandchildren?"

"Yeah." Blair snorted. "She's never mentioned anything like that before. It came out of nowhere."

Jim considered, "Her birthday was a couple of months ago, wasn't it?" He remembered Blair buying a card.

"Uh-huh."

"Which one?"

"Forty-ninth."  Blair rolled toward him. "Why?"

Jim was glad to have his partner's interest. "Not that it excuses her behavior, but I have a feeling your mother might be feeling her age right now."  He turned toward Blair and gentled his voice. "Her whole life has been about attracting men. She might be feeling afraid right now and realizing that she's not always going to look as good. Maybe she's starting to think that the idea of settling down isn't such a bad thing."

"But that would be all the more reason to maintain a good relationship with me. With us. I'd never turn her away, and I know you wouldn't either. If she's scared, why would she throw away the one stable person she has in her life?"  He paused. "And now two of us, actually."

"I think you intimidate her."

"What?"  Blair was up on an elbow.

"That's the impression I have," Jim explained calmly. "Compared to all you've done in your life, Chief, her accomplishments pale. Maybe there's even a little jealousy there."

Blair rolled into his back. After a long moment, he said, "If there's any truth at all to what you say... well, there can't be any truth to it. I don't believe it. It's crazy for her to be jealous of her own son."

Jim hoped Blair could hear the humor in his voice. "She's a crazy woman."

They were silent and Jim started to drift. He didn't know how much time had passed when he was startled awake by Blair's plaintive voice.

"Jim? I'm going to be okay about this Naomi thing."

Jim couldn't help but wonder if it was wishful thinking, but he appreciated Blair's effort. He felt for Blair's hand and squeezed it.

Blair squeezed back. "I've always looked forward to her visits. But I'm always relieved when she leaves."

"You are?"  Jim hadn't realized that.

"M-hmm. I always feel relieved to have my space back. Even though she's not smothering like a lot of mothers, I feel... smothered... when she's around."

"She tends to dominate any situation she's in," Jim agreed.

"I'm okay about this."

Jim put his arm around Blair and pulled him closer. "I'm glad, Chief."  He closed his eyes. "But it's okay if you're not. She hurt you."

Blair's voice finally sounded sleepy. "Yeah, but you're still here. Between the two of you, you're most important."

Jim inwardly cringed. "You shouldn't have to choose. I would never ask you to do that."

Blair whispered, "The choice was made before I was born. My life is with you. It was the path I chose before I incarnated this time around."

Though he wasn't sure he believed this "path" stuff, Jim was warmed past any need to speak.

Blair said, "I'm sorry about asking if you were attracted to her."

That was already an ancient memory. "That's okay."  He shifted and pointed Blair's face up toward him. Then he kissed those luscious lips, careful to keep it a kiss and not go after Blair's flavorful spit, which enticed him so. Still, his senses were dialing up, responding to the physical sensation, preparing to escalate it.

Jim pulled back and whispered, "I want to love you. Will you let me?"

Blair pushed the covers away. "Yes. Love me."  He reached up with both hands and pulled Jim's head down to his own.

---

Blair stood before his superior, having decided upon entering Simon's office to get straight to the point. "Simon, Jim's senses need a vacation. He needs two weeks."

Simon reached for a cigar, needing to chew on it, even though he'd broken the habit of smoking them. "It's not good timing, Sandburg," he said solemnly. "Especially since I assume this means you'll be going with him."

"It's never a good time."  Blair had to make an effort not to grit his teeth. Whenever he talked to Jim about his senses, anything he said automatically went and Jim no longer argued with him. Therefore, it was all the more annoying to have to do word dances with Simon. He should know better. Blair's knowledge of Jim's senses was not to be questioned.

"True enough," Simon admitted. He cocked his head. "Just exactly what do you mean by Jim's senses needing a vacation?"  He chuckled. "If I could give Jim's senses a vacation, without Jim - or you - having to take time off, as well, then maybe I could manage it."

Blair refrained from rolling his eyes. Simon thought he was being funny, but he wasn't. Blair leaned his hands on his superior's desk. "Simon, every time Jim extends his senses, it takes something out of him. It takes energy for him to use his senses, just like it takes energy for any other biological process, such as digesting food. When his senses meet something unpleasant - such as seeing the fine details of a horribly mutilated body, or hearing somebody being gunned down, or smelling feces or urine from a fresh corpse - even though he's cool about those things emotionally, it stresses him sensorily. Like any other type of stress, it builds on itself. His senses need a respite from it, or they'll become frazzled around the edges and not able to work as efficiently or as effectively as they should."

Simon removed the cigar from his mouth. Delicately, he said, "I thought... uh, that offsetting the unpleasantries that Jim's senses encounter with pleasantries was part of your responsibilities."

Blair restrained a sigh. Once, he'd had a little too much to drink while out with Jim and Simon, and he'd said too much to their superior about how a healthy sex life made Jim's senses happier, so to speak, and made them work better. It was his faux pas, so he could hardly feign stupidity now. He straightened, crossing his arms, and let the pent-up sigh release. "Simon, you know damn well that Jim's been working almost twice as hard since he and I got together. Every damn case that has difficulty with circumstantial evidence gets Jim and I summoned to the scene - sometimes scenes that are months old - so we can see if Jim can find anything. His only reward for success is even more cases to assist with. He needs a break. As for... the other... well damn, Simon, the 'offsetting' need has gotten to be more than we can handle in the bedroom. If we aren't exhausted from working cases, then we're exhausted from trying to 'offset' all the bad stuff Jim's senses run into on the job."

Simon held up a hand warningly.

Indignant, Blair bellowed, "Well, you brought it up!"

"Sandburg," Simon said in a low, dangerous grumble.

Blair had learned to respect that tone. "The bottom line, sir, is that Jim's senses are stressed and they need a break."  
    
Now the dark face reflected curiosity. "How do you 'unstress' them? If not by... the other way."

"He needs to go somewhere quiet. Really quiet. I'm thinking the desert or something, where it will be warm. He needs to extend his senses and find peaceful sounds and smells and colors of nature. Not killing and death and car horns and screaming." 
  
"Heh. Heh."  Simon chomped his cigar, chuckling.

"What?"

Simon put his elbows on his desk. "I just think it's ironic that you're complaining about how stressed Jim is; because, from observing you two in action, you're the one who demands the most from Jim."  Simon turned his attention to some papers on his desk. "Maybe it's you he needs a break from."

Ha-ha. Blair wasn't in the mood for this. "You know, Simon, you're probably right. I push Jim, because that's what my job is, even if nobody except Jim recognizes it. I want to do a good job, so I push myself, which in turn pushes Jim. But we're only human, sir."

Simon looked up from the paper. He sighed, indicating Blair's statement had hit home. "All right, Sandburg, I'm taking it under advisement. When I've made a decision, I'll let you know."  He added, "But don't get your hopes up."

Blair bit his lip, hoping that last statement was merely one of expressing authority for the sake of expressing authority. After all Jim does for the Cascade PD, one would think someone like Simon would be on his knees, giving Jim anything he needs.

He found Jim in the break room.

"How did it go?" the sentinel asked as he bent to retrieve his candy bar from the vending machine.

"Hard to say," Blair muttered. He waited until Jim straightened. "I think you might want to wait an hour or so, and then go in there and give Simon a 'my little buddy is overworked and needs a vacation' speech. If he sees that we're concerned for each other... well, he won't be able to sleep at night if he refuses us some time off."