WHERE ANGELS TREAD
© January 2003 by Charlotte Frost

PART THREE

They stayed in their room all the next day, mainly dozing and munching on overly expensive room service.

The newspapers were full of stories of Kimberly's rescue, including speculations about the angel theory. Religious leaders appeared on national talk shows to assure the public that, of course, angels existed, and Kimberly's rescue was absolute proof.

The following day, Jim and Blair returned near the Cibola forest, the area seeming almost desolate now. After all, it was the middle of the week and school was still in session, so there weren't many tourists.

The second morning, Blair picked up a brochure from the park office and they spent some time stopping at various tourist attractions. They were now at a trail that highlighted the fauna of the region, and Blair had knelt next to a group of flowers to study them, while also holding a regional book he'd purchased at the visitor's center.

Blair had his glasses on and his hair pulled back. Jim watched as Blair continued his studies, wondering how he himself had ended up here in this moment in his life. He was in a steady, successful relationship with a man completely unlike himself, on a vacation in the boonies of New Mexico, traveling around in an RV; and just a few days ago, he and Blair had saved a young life.

Jim realized he was happy. He couldn't imagine having ever achieved that state - or even recognizing happiness as something worthwhile to have, let alone be possible to obtain - had it not been for Blair. It was as though he'd been born the day that Blair walked into his life.

Jim tilted his head, wondering at the man on his knees, who was behaving as though those damn flowers were the most fascinating thing on Earth. That is, until Blair's attention was diverted elsewhere; then that would become the most important thing on Earth.

How did I end up being such a lucky shit? Jim wondered, knowing there would never be an answer that would explain it adequately.

Why hadn't anyone ever even attempted - let alone succeeded - to take Blair from him? Sure, Blair was convinced that they were a single unit when it came to Jim's sentinel abilities, but Jim was certain that Blair's love - even back in the early days - was for reasons beyond that.

Jim snorted at the recollection of Naomi's recently having had fantasies of claiming him. What is it about Sandburgs that attract them to me? he wondered. But he quickly put Naomi out of his mind.

Blair sat back and turned some pages in the book, his expression serious and engrossed.

He needs to be made love to, Jim decided. It amazed him to think that they hadn't done anything for a few days now, not since before Kimberly. But then, he supposed the point of this vacation had been to get away from the normal routine. Fucking was definitely a big part of their routine.

Actually, though, the routine part was the sentinel part - the pleasure of fucking as a reward for whatever displeasure he suffered from the use of his senses. Blair had him trained like the most obedient of dogs. Be a good sentinel, and have the fuck of your life. That always seemed to be Blair's rationale, and Jim followed it willingly because the pleasure was so addictive.

Except... there had been no "reward" for his finding little Kimberly. Jim realized that he hadn't missed it. Also, they had already had some great sex since coming to New Mexico.

No doubt, Blair would have explanations for all of this. But all Jim wanted right now was to wipe that serious scientist's expression off Blair's face, and have him moaning in pleasure instead.

There was a picnic bench right here.

A sign from God.

Jim grinned inside, thinking of how Blair would approve of that thought. Of course, the RV was just a few minutes down the trail, where it was parked in a lot. But this seemed much more satisfying... out amongst nature.

Blair looked up and Jim made a point of scratching his crotch, trying to look casual while also drawing Blair's attention there. Then, not caring that it was obvious, he tilted his head toward the picnic bench.

"What?" Blair asked, sounding genuinely confused as he stood, his mouth open in that way that Jim found enticing.

Jim decided he really didn't have the patience to make a game out of this. He approached Blair, laying one hand on his shoulder. With the other hand, he took the book and brochure from Blair and dropped them to the ground.

Blair's expression brightened. "You want to... here?"

At least he wasn't disagreeing. Jim nodded toward the picnic bench, and then Blair broke into a smile and said, "Okay. How do you want to do this?"

Permission. Jim lowered his lips to Blair's and fumbled with the front of his jeans. There was a cool breeze that Blair might find uncomfortable, but Jim would heat him up in a hurry.

As Jim pushed at the now-open pants, Blair turned his lips away to say, "Extend out. Make sure you'll be able to turn your senses up when...."

Jim kissed Blair again. He didn't want to extend out.

Blair was stepping out of his pants and underwear, having nudged out of his shoes. Still, Jim obeyed Blair and paused in his kissing to see how far out he could take sound. He caught forest rangers talking, but he was sure they were far away. He heard traffic at a distant highway.

As he prodded Blair over toward the picnic table, he looked into the depths of the forest, hanging onto Blair for grounding as he turned in a slow sweep to make sure there was nobody nearby.

When he was finished, Blair whispered, "We don't have any lube."

"Spit," Jim pleaded, kissing him again. Then maybe, this time, he could tongue Blair's ass after his cock was finished with him.

"Okay, okay," Blair agreed readily, his arm braced against the table. He reached down and rubbed his open hand against Jim.

Jim groaned loudly. Then he gasped, "On the table."

"On it?" Blair said in surprise.

The sun had been shining on the otherwise cool surface. It shouldn't be too unpleasant. "Face down," Jim said gruffly, unfastening his belt. "Your ass hanging off the end."
  
Blair chuckled and awkwardly mounted the bench.

Jim grabbed him as he turned to lie on his stomach, and pulled Blair's ass back toward the end where he stood. Blair was trying to spread his legs helpfully as they draped over each edge, and Jim could see that it wasn't the most comfortable of circumstances.

Still, if Blair didn't want it like this, he'd say so.

Jim waited until Blair stopped wriggling around. Blair's legs were spread widely over the table, his anus exposed at the edge, his hands grasping each side of the table.

Jim knelt at the edge and inhaled deeply, his senses dialing up in excitement. Then he wet his mouth as well as he could, then started the process of lubricating Blair's ass. There was just enough room for him to reach between the widespread legs and take Blair's shaft in hand.

He stroked leisurely as his tongue worked on getting Blair ready. Blair made gasping noises and tried to grip his tongue. Jim relaxed, knowing the time would be soon, and his hearing picked up bird calls from farther away. His nose, despite where it was buried, smelled a fresh pond somewhere.

He felt how hard Blair was and slowed his strokes. His other hand reached up and felt the underside of Blair's upper thigh, noticing how stretched the ligaments and tendons were.

Blair couldn't last long in this position.

Jim kissed Blair's asshole lovingly, then straightened. He pushed his own pants and underwear down to his thighs, then drooled heavily into his hand. He coated his cockhead as best he could, breathing hard from the tease of his own touch.

He stepped closer and pushed Blair's shirt tail up, exposing his whole rump. Then he stretched to grab Blair's hair band and slide if off, so that Blair's hair fell against the back his shoulders, which were peeling from his sunburn.  Jim then rested his left hand on Blair's buttock, squeezing for the pleasure of it.

With his right hand, he placed his cock against Blair's moist opening. He waited, gratified when Blair's whole body expelled a deep, relaxing breath, and he went limp on the table.

Jim pushed more firmly than usual, and the first few inches of his cock slipped in. Blair made a painful grunting noise, but his body didn't react, other than the usual flair of his sphincter muscles protesting the invasion.

Damn, this was awkward. Jim was panting as he realized this angle wasn't particularly inductive to sliding all the way in.

He felt for Blair's cock again, finding it almost limp, and stroked it in apology as he considered how he wanted to do this.

His own cock threatened to slip out, and he pushed it back in.

Blair gasped again, but this time it was a more pleasant sound.

Inside, Jim's cockhead felt the nerves in Blair's prostate. He realized that, the way they were positioned, the weight of his cock was right against Blair's magic spot, even while barely inserted.

Intrigued, Jim began a brief undulating motion, barely moving in and out.

"God, Jim," Blair swore. His right hand let go of the edge of the table and slapped the top of it. "God."

Encouraged, Jim starting working Blair's cock deliberately, enjoying how it throbbed and swelled.

"Like that," Blair continued in a breathy plea. "Keep fucking me like that."

Jim realized they could come at the same time - something they normally didn't even attempt. His hand began working more purposely on Blair's cock.

His own loins were saturated with building pleasure as he kept up the short undulations. He knew he wasn't going to be able to ram his cock home at the peak moment, so he had something else in mind.

As climax neared, he moved his fingers over Blair's cockhead with a well-practiced gesture, squeezing with pressure in all the right places.

An inarticulate sob burst from Blair just as Jim's fingers felt semen race up through Blair's barrel.

He grabbed his own cock as he pulled it out. One stroke of his hand, and his balls tightened just before his semen shot against Blair's asshole.

For long moments, there were only their panting and satiated groans.

Jim dropped to his knees. It felt good to rest his legs, but he didn't want to leave Blair messy like that. Plus, he'd always wanted to put his tongue there, afterwards....

He placed a steadying hand on Blair's rump, and began washing all his semen off of Blair. He took satisfaction in the sensation of the swollen anal tissues, and once the flavor of semen had disappeared, he licked long and lovingly at the delicate flesh, wanting to heal it from his harsh entrance.

There was an impatient grunt from Blair, and Jim noticed then that he wasn't getting any signals from Blair's nerves where he licked. He realized then that the nerves were numb from his cock, and that Blair probably wasn't even feeling the loving strokes of his tongue.

Unfortunately, post-coital analingus hadn't turned out to be the pleasure that he had hoped.

"I need some help here, big guy," Blair said with a pained chuckle.

Jim kissed there a final time, worshipping that place that gave him so much pleasure, and straightened. He quickly pulled up his pants and fastened them, considering the problem before him. Blair was still stretched out and very uncomfortable.

"Easy," Jim soothed. Carefully, he placed his hands underneath each of Blair's thighs and lifted as gently as he could. When he'd lifted high enough, Blair pulled his legs together with a groan, and Jim could see where Blair's knees were bruised and scraped, despite the smooth edges of the table.

"Oh, man," Blair groaned again. His legs were shaking as he attempted to turn over.

Jim took pity on him, and gathered Blair up into his arms, then lifted.

"All right," Blair grinned, holding onto Jim's neck and shoulders, "transportation service."

Jim carefully put Blair on his feet near his jeans and shoes. He bent and handed Blair his pants.

As Blair put them on, he said, "We're going to have to try that at home sometime on the kitchen table. It's just that knee pads might be a good idea."

Jim looked away bashfully, though he was glad that Blair had enjoyed it.

Blair sat on the ground and began putting on his shoes.

Jim squatted beside him, his eyes taking in how pleased and well-fucked Blair looked. And gorgeous. The serious scientist's expression was completely gone.

When Blair was dressed, Jim reached out to take him in his arms, shifting to lie on his back while bringing Blair on top of him. His heart beat pleasantly in his chest.

Blair grinned widely at him, their faces only an inch apart. "Hello there."

Jim's finger traced those full lips. He felt compelled to confess, "When you and I first met at your office at Rainier, I thought you were funny looking."

Blair tilted his head thoughtfully. "And now?"

Jim let his fingertips roam up Blair's cheek, then up toward his hairline. "Now I think you're the most perfect creation on this earth."

Blair's eyes studied him, as though trying to figure out where the sentiment had come from. Then he dipped his head and nuzzled his cheek against Jim's chin. After a long moment, he stopped and said, "This vacation has been good for us. I think we've needed to reconnect as Jim and Blair, who happen to be a sentinel partnership, rather than as a sentinel partnership who have the names Jim and Blair."

That was more thinking than Jim wanted to do right now. He closed his eyes and pressed Blair's head against his chest. He could so easily fall asleep....

Blair said, "I really hate it that we have to call Simon this afternoon and check in. What if he needs us to fly back tomorrow?"

Great way to destroy the mood, Chief.  But Jim's only answer was to pat Blair's back reassuringly.

Blair started to shift, moving off Jim with a groan. "I need to go back to the RV and get some Lysol to clean off the picnic bench."  Wicked chuckle. "My cum isn't a very nice thing to leave for families that might want to picnic here."

He was now sitting beside Jim and he slapped Jim's arm with the back of his hand. "And you need to rinse out with mouthwash. Your breath smells like my asshole."

What's wrong with that? Jim grumbled to himself. He was sure he could spend an entire day with his face buried between Blair's ass cheeks - except his cock tended to get jealous.

As they both staggered to their feet, Blair rambled, "At least we know we can do it with just spit. You didn't even use your fingers and it wasn't that difficult."

Jim blinked. Right. He hadn't even used his fingers to stretch Blair out first; he'd been so focused on getting what he wanted.

He smiled to himself. Yes, it had worked out all right. His Blair had been so ready to receive his cock....

Blair nudged him. "Stay here and daydream, if you want. I'm going back to the RV for the Lysol."

Jim realized then that he'd been staring at the picnic bench.  He shifted his gaze determinedly to take in the view around them. Between the trees, there were hills and more forest. One hill in an open area had some sort of structure at the top of it. Jim extended his sight long enough to read the building's sign.

Blair returned with the Lysol, a roll of paper towels, and a little container of Tic Tacs. He handed Jim the latter, then went to work on the picnic bench.

As Jim chewed the breath mints, he said, "Hey, Chief, when's the last time you've been horseback riding?"

Blair glanced up while he wiped the tabletop. He shrugged. "Long time. Why?"

Jim said, "There's a rental stable a few miles over. You game?"

Blair grinned. "Sure. I used to ride a lot the one summer I stayed with my cousins in Texas. It's not the kind of thing you forget."  The table clean, he gathered up the supplies.

"Let's go."  Jim led the way back.

---

Blair groaned as he crawled into the passenger seat of the RV over two hours later. "Oh, God," he gasped, as he kept his legs widely spread, trying to give them some relief.

Jim got into the driver's seat and started the motor.

Blair looked over at him, not believing it was possible to feel this bad from such pleasurable activities. "Between the picnic bench and the riding, the inside of my legs are one big bruise."  He couldn't help but grin as he said, "It was fun though."  A blast, actually. It was still too early for the busy tourist season, so the horses had been feeling fresh. After determining that they were at least adequate riders, their guide had allowed them to gallop the horses quite a bit. It had been two hours of exhilaration and great scenery.

And he was going to be paying for it for days.

As Jim carefully pulled out of the unpaved stable area, Blair asked, "Aren't you sore?"

Jim shrugged. "A little."  He turned onto the main road. "I think we ought to go back to the Hilton tonight and get another one of those suites with a whirlpool bath."

"Sounds good," Blair said. "And maybe, after one of those treatments, I'll actually feel up to having sex in a week or so."

Jim grinned.

Blair hated to think about it, but it was quite possible their vacation was essentially over. "Gotta call Simon before dinner," he muttered.

---

They were parked at the Hilton in Albuquerque. They got out of the RV but didn't go inside. Instead, Blair took out his cell phone and powered it up in preparation for making the dreaded phone call.

"I don't want to go back, I don't want to go back," he muttered as he pushed the two-digit memory code that would dial directly into Simon's office. He knew he was being childish, but he wasn't ready to return to their life in Cascade just yet.

"Banks," came the formal greeting.

"Simon, it's Blair," Blair said with more cheer than he felt. "Jim and I are having a great time, so you'd better not tell us we have to come back."

"Heh, heh," Simon chuckled. Then, "Well, Sandburg, things weren't looking too good a couple of days ago, but we got a break on a tough case. So, you and Jim can have another week."

Blair exhaled with relief, having not expected Simon to be that straightforward. "Thanks, Simon. Thanks a lot."  He glanced over at Jim, and saw Jim nod to indicate that he'd been listening in.

"Uh, Blair...."

Blair's straightened at the hesitant tone. "Yeah?"

"Look, Sandburg, I hope I haven't done the wrong thing here, but your mother called yesterday morning."

Blair's chest tightened. Oh, no. "My mom?"  He looked at Jim worriedly. Jim was motionless, listening.

"Uh, yeah, Blair. She'd gotten your phone message at the loft saying you and Jim were on vacation, so she called me to ask where you had gone."  Simon became uneasy. "Since I knew you had your cell phone turned off, and since you and your mom always seem to get along...."

"Uh-huh," Blair encouraged, keeping his voice carefully even. It wasn't Simon's fault that he hadn't known what had transpired at Naomi's last visit.

"I told her you and Jim were vacationing in New Mexico. She said she was in Fort Worth, Texas, herself and she wanted me to give you a message."

"What message?" Blair asked automatically. He already had a good idea of the general content and he felt the anger brewing in his gut.

"She said that she would be at the Lamplighter Inn in Las Cruces by tomorrow - Friday - evening. She asked that you and Jim meet her there, if possible."

Damn!  Blair watched Jim's jaw firm. "Anything else?" he asked with forced casualness.

"That's all. I hope it's okay that I told her where you were."

"That's fine," Blair lied smoothly. "Thanks for the message, Simon."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you and Jim are having a good time."

"A blast," Blair said forcefully.

A brief chuckle. "Keep that up and you'll hurt my feelings."

Blair himself chuckled, but it was uneasy. "Thanks for another week, Simon. Jim and I have to get going. Bye."

"Take care, Sandburg. Tell Jim I said hello, if he's not listening in."

"Bye, Simon," Jim called, right before Blair cut the line.

Blair powered the phone down - not wanting to risk getting a call from Naomi - and closed the bottom flap.

Then he let his anger come to the surface. "Godammit!" he shouted, flinging the phone in an arc, wishing he could lose control enough to smash it against the ground. He glared at Jim. "I don't want to see her!  I don't want to."

Jim shrugged. "We don't have to go there."

That was no help. Yet.... "We don't, do we?" Blair realized. They could simply... not go to Las Cruces. Not meet up with Naomi. Go somewhere else.

But that didn't help, either. Blair gave Jim the phone, then slapped his hand against the RV. "How dare she interfere with our vacation!  This is just so like her!"

Blair huffed a couple more times, then realized Jim hadn't said anything. He looked up and asked, "What do you want to do?"

Calmly, Jim replied, "I don't want to see her, but I think you'd feel guilty about it, knowing she was waiting for us in Las Cruces and we didn't show up. "  Jim stepped closer to Blair. "Besides," he said in a lower voice, "maybe all she wants is to apologize for last time."

Blair snorted. "Yeah, right. She doesn't ever want to be around me unless it's convenient for her."  He quickly shook his head, hating himself for all the years when he'd felt so admiring of her. "This is too big of an effort for her to make just to patch things up after last time. She wants something."

Jim suggested, "Maybe all she wants is your forgiveness. Maybe she's overwhelmed by guilt after last time."

"Whatever," Blair muttered, wishing he had the answer as to her intent. He supposed he wouldn't until they went to Las Cruces and saw her.

Jim squeezed his arm. "I'm starved. Let's get a nice room, order a huge meal, and relax in a Jacuzzi bath while we wait for the food to arrive."

Blair growled, but allowed Jim to lead him to the lobby.

---

Despite the massaging jets of the bath water, Blair's lower body ached heavily the next day. Still, he insisted on being the one to drive, because it would give him something to think about, besides how angry he was with Naomi. They decided to take the back roads south to Las Cruces, since the interstate would get them there too quickly. A part of Blair hoped that Naomi wouldn't arrive at all. That she'd somehow change her plans between now and then and have no way of getting in touch and telling them - or, better yet, simply leave a message with the front desk of the Lamplighter Inn, saying that she'd decided to do something else instead. After all, that would be just like her.

As they neared the city limits late in the afternoon, Jim came to stand beside Blair and squeezed his shoulder. "You know, Chief, I don't think it's going to help matters if you greet Naomi with your boxing gloves on."

Blair felt himself deflate. He was so tired of being angry and feeling the hurt from Naomi's last visit, ever since getting her message from Simon. "You're right," he admitted with a sigh. "I just don't want her to manipulate me, you know? I feel I have to be on my guard, because who knows what little drama she's going to want to play out this time."

Jim's hand squeezed him again. "I know."

---

It was dusk when they found the Lamplighter Inn just off the main street of town.

"I see her station wagon," Jim announced as Blair parked the RV. All in all, he was relieved. At least this boded well for Blair and Naomi getting past what had happened at her last visit, unless she had some other announcement, worse than when she'd wanted to start dating Jim.

Jim mentally shook his head at the expectation she'd had.

Blair was muttering under his breath as they approached the lobby.

"Remember," Jim said in a low voice, "boxing gloves off."

Blair grumbled, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

They went up to the clerk. "We're supposed to meet a Naomi Sandburg," Jim greeted.

The man said, "She checked in just about an hour ago. I'll ring her room, if you'd like. Or you can go up to 210."

"Please ring her," Jim said. "Just tell her Jim and Blair are in the lobby."

The man picked up the phone and dialed.

Blair said, "She's checked in? That means she's planning on staying the night, at least."

Jim shrugged, determined to stay level-headed while Blair was so worked up. "That doesn't mean we're going to."

Blair nodded, releasing a breath.

"She'll be right down," the clerk said, hanging up the phone.

"Thank you," they both told the clerk. They moved toward the stairs at the other end of the carpeted portion of the lobby.

A moment later, Naomi trotted down. "Blair!" she greeted with a dazzling smile, her arms open.

"Mom," Blair said guardedly, stepping closer to endure her hug and kiss.

"Naomi," Jim held out his hand quickly, to keep her from coming closer.

"Jim," she shook it vigorously, while squeezing his other arm. "I'm so glad you two could make it. Obviously, you got my message."

"Uh, yeah, we did, " Blair said. "What's up?"

She looked at him in surprise at his frankness, then her smile returned. "Have you two had dinner yet?"

"No," Jim said.

"Neither have I. They have a very nice coffee shop here," she said, leading the way.

Jim wondered how she knew it was "nice" if she'd just arrived an hour ago. Still, he and Blair followed obediently.

It wasn't the peak dinner hour yet and not very busy. They were all seated in a booth, Jim and Blair sitting together, with Blair on the end.

They gave the waitress their orders for drinks, then Blair asked, "Why did you want us to meet you here, Naomi?"

She again appeared taken aback at his direct question. Then she replied, smiling, "Blair, honey, I felt so bad about how we left things last time."

"You left things," Blair said, the hurt clear in his voice. "You're the one who left and who didn't want to talk it out with me."

"Oh, Blair, I know what a mess I made of things."  She reached to squeeze his curled fist, which was perched on the table. "You gave me such a shock with your news and," she glanced at Jim as though to include him, "I needed time to process what you'd told me."

Jim would just as soon not be included at all. He really didn't want to be a part of this discussion, but he ached for the undeserved hurt Blair had suffered.

Blair's reply was to aggressively open his menu and hide his face behind it.

Jim opened his, but left it flat on the table. Naomi did likewise.

The waitress brought their drinks, and then took their orders. After she'd taken their menus and moved away, Naomi asked, "So, what have you two been doing on your vacation?"

Jim didn't feel it was any of her business, though he understood that it was an obvious topic of conversation. He waited for Blair to answer.

"We went horseback riding yesterday," Blair finally said, his voice short.

"How ironic," she noted with pleasure, picking up her tea and taking a sip. "You enjoyed riding so much with your cousins in Fort Worth, and here I was just visiting them."

Blair was silent a moment, staring at the table. Then he squeezed Jim's leg and said, "I have to go to the men's room."  He got up and walked away, Jim noting his stiffness from yesterday's physical activities.

Jim released a heavy sigh and sipped his coffee.

Naomi looked at Jim worriedly. "Why is everything I say to him wrong?" she pleaded.

"He's hurt, Naomi."  Jim stirred his coffee to give himself something to do. But he glanced up at her to say, "I told you he was hurt last time. What did you expect?" he demanded quietly, determined to not get angry. "That he'd just up and get over it, even though he hasn't heard a word from you since?"

"That's why I wanted to see you both now," she said, her sincerity making Jim edgy. "It was meant to be that your Captain Banks told me you were vacationing here in New Mexico, when I was visiting relatives in Fort Worth."  Her eyes lowered.  "I didn't feel good about how I left things last time. I think we should clear the air. I've never known Blair to hold onto anger before."

Jim stirred his coffee again. He tried not to say what he wanted to say, but finally he muttered, "Maybe he's never been hurt this bad by his own mother before."

Naomi's eyes grew bright. "I'm only human, Jim."

Jim picked up his cup. "So is he."  He sipped.

"What can I say to him?"  The pleading was back in her voice. "We've always been such good friends. Now, it's like I have to walk on eggshells around him, because everything I say seems to upset him."  She leaned forward. "What can I do?"

Through the corner of his eye, Jim saw Blair hanging outside the men's room just beyond the entrance to the restaurant. Blair had his hands stuffed in his pockets and would glance their way while pacing aimlessly.

He doesn't want to come back here, Jim realized, feeling trapped.

He tried to focus on Naomi's question. After thinking about it a moment, he realized that he had some advice that might help. "Naomi, try talking to him as an adult. He's his own man. I realize you and he had some wonderful times together and a great relationship, but he has his own life now. Relate to him on his level and quit trying to bring everything back to you and how you feel. Take some interest in what he's doing, for once."

She blinked at him. "But I am taking an interest in what's he's doing - what both of you are doing. I just asked about your vacation and he didn't seem to appreciate it. What would he rather me ask about?"

A bit late for that, Jim thought sadly as the waitress brought their food. Blair had so much he wanted to tell you, Naomi.

As Naomi bit into her egg sandwich, Jim studied his breaded shrimp, thinking it didn't look as good as it had in the picture.

As he started in on his cole slaw, he was relieved to see Blair approaching the table. Apparently, his turkey and gravy beckoned more strongly than his wish to avoid his mother.

Blair groaned under his breath as he sat, having grabbed the edge of the table for support.

Naomi looked up in alarm. "Blair, honey, what's wrong?"

"Horseback riding," Jim and Blair replied in unison.

Naomi admitted a giggle. "Oh, you're sore. That's when you know you're over thirty."

Blair didn't rise to the bait. Now settled, he focused on his meal.

Naomi looked at Jim. "Are you sore, too?"

Jim shrugged. "A little."  He hated inane conversation.

Without looking up, Blair asked, "Why are you staying overnight here, Naomi?"

She shrugged. "I just thought maybe we could all have breakfast in the morning, and - "

"We aren't staying the night," Jim said firmly.

"Oh," she said, obviously deflated. Then, as though determined to make the best of the situation, she explained, "I'm heading to a four-week retreat in Arizona. The classes are very casual. I like that sort of thing."  She looked hesitantly at Blair. "I thought maybe you would be interested," she glanced at Jim and quickly said, "And, Jim, they have beginner classes, too. You might be surprised what mediation can do for you, when it comes to relieving stress, and - "

"Mom," Blair interrupted, still looking at his plate. His hands were now resting at his sides.

"Well, I just thought I'd mention it. It is very casual and you wouldn't be out of place, and  --"

"Mom!"  It was a low-pitched shout.

Naomi quieted and looked at Blair in confusion.

Jim felt he was getting indigestion, though he'd only taken a few bites of his meal.

With bowed head, Blair said, "Did you hear about that little girl who was found here in New Mexico, after being lost for over a day?"

Naomi's face brightened. "Yes, it's been all over the news, even in Fort Worth. Isn't that the most beautiful story, sweetie?"  With a longing look toward the ceiling, she said, "I don't know why people have such a difficult time believing in angels. There's benevolent spirits all around us. We just -"

"Jim and I were the angels," Blair said in a low voice.

Naomi leaned toward them. "What?" she asked, looking from one to the other.

Blair looked up, his jaw firm, his mouth tight. "Jim and I were the ones who found her," he said quietly. "We couldn't stay around because of the media. After the mess with my thesis, they would know Jim is a sentinel. We had to slip away."

She tilted her head fondly. "Oh, Blair. I'm so proud of you."  She looked at Jim. "You have such a special gift."

"I have a gift," Blair said in a low, strained voice, staring at his plate.

Jim was relieved when her attention returned to her son. "What, honey?"

"Jim wouldn't have found her without me."

"He's right, Naomi," Jim put in, glad to have something useful to say.  "My senses have become more capable than I ever thought possible, because of how Blair guides me in using them. He's as much a sentinel as I am. It takes both of us to make the whole thing work to the extent that it took to find little Kimberly."

Blair was still staring at his plate. "We do important work, Mom."

"Of course you do," Naomi said, looking from one to the other. "I'm so proud of you, Blair."

Jim looked away, trying not to fidget. Naomi was saying all the right things - the way an automaton would, with only a shallow sincerity behind the words -- let alone any genuine understanding of them.

But then, this was familiar territory. Just a couple of months ago, Jim had been at his father's, talking about some of the events of his life that filled his father's scrapbook. While his father made all the right noises about how proud he was - and Jim didn't disbelieve it - he nevertheless realized his father knew nothing of the man who had accomplished those things which made William Ellison so proud. He knew nothing of the actual importance of those accomplishments to Jim himself.

Blair almost seemed to read his mind. "Do you even know what you're proud of me for?" he challenged Naomi, finally looking up and meeting her eye. "Do you have any idea of the criminals Jim and I help put behind bars, because of how outstanding we are at collecting circumstantial evidence?"

"I know, dear," she said, stabbing at her vegetables with a fork. "I'm completely at peace with you having chosen a career in police work. I realize it's what you want to do, and that's what's most important."

Blair's mouth fell open. "You don't understand me at all, do you?" he asked, an edge of exasperation in his voice. "You think that being a cop is some sort of dream of mine that I've finally accomplished?"

Naomi's mouth was also open as her fork hovered in midair. "I know it isn't what you've always dreamed of being, but obviously it became important to you in the past few years."

"Naomi," Blair said more firmly.

Jim wondered why Blair was fighting this. He tried harder not to fidget.

"This isn't about being a cop," Blair went on, raising his voice slightly. "What Jim and I do... we help people. Being a cop just happens to be the best way for us to use his senses for the community."  His voice increased. "If being in a circus would allow his senses to better protect the tribe, then we'd be doing that!"

Jim tried to fathom the image of himself and Blair throwing each other around on a trapeze.

"You're angry, Blair," Naomi noted in a level voice, continuing to eat. "I've never seen you this angry before. Certainly not at me."  She looked at Jim, eyes flaring. "You told him, didn't you?"

Jim sputtered at the sudden accusation. "Told him what?"

Blair jerked his head back and forth between them. "Told me what?"

Naomi's eyes narrowed at Jim, the nod of her head telling him to 'fess up.

"Naomi, I have no idea what you're talking about," Jim said, grateful that he couldn't be accused of adding to Blair's pain.

Now Blair's attention was on his mother. "You thought Jim told me what?" he demanded.

She bowed her head, sighing heavily. Then she pushed her plate away. "It doesn't matter now," she said decisively, looking up at Blair. "It all worked out wonderfully."

"What did?" Blair pushed. "Tell me."

"Blair," she chided. "Don't get angry. It was a long time ago. And it doesn't matter now."

"I'll decide that," Blair insisted.

Her eyes darted to Jim's, but she apparently realized she wasn't going to get any help there.

"I thought Jim had told you, or I never would have brought it up."

"Naomi!" Blair sputtered.

"Well," she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "It seems such a silly thing now. But I was only seventeen, unwed, and scared when I was pregnant with you. I thought I'd been careful, but you know you weren't planned."

"Yes, I know that," Blair said, encouraging the story forward with a rapid nod.

Jim suddenly knew where this was leading. Damn her for bringing this up. Blair was now about to get another swift kick delivered to his gut from his mother. What Naomi had said last time about assuming Blair knew had obviously been a fabrication. She'dknown that he hadn't known.

He tried to get his own anger under control, for Blair's sake.

"Well, I'm thinking you might have already figured this out," Naomi rambled. "Everyone just wanted to feel free back then, and full of peace and love. When an 'accident' happened... it seems somebody always knew a doctor who could take care of the problem."

Jim pushed his plate away, his little bit of food sitting heavily in his stomach.

Blair stared at her, blinking.

Her face softened. "Oh, Blair, honey," she reached for his hand, "if I'd known how much I was going to love you from the moment you were born, I'd never have considered it. I was young and naive."

Blair moved his hand back under the table, as soon as she touched it. With the other hand, he picked up a fry and dipped it in ketchup. "So, why didn't I end up tossed out with the garbage?" he asked with a casualness that bothered Jim. He shoved the fry into his mouth.

"The doctor I had the appointment with got arrested a couple of days before. It shook up my group of friends. And then when we'd settled down enough to try to find somebody else, it was too late to do anything about it."  Naomi smiled happily as she rested her elbows on the table. "Things always work out for the best, don't they, dear?"

Blair nodded, gaze lowered, and shoved another fry into his mouth.

The waitress appeared. "Can I take these?"  She reached for Naomi's plate. Jim handed her his plate.

She looked at Blair questioningly, and he sat back to indicate she should take it.

"How about dessert?" she asked.

"I'm up for pie," Naomi said with a huge smile.

"I'll bring the menus," the waitress said, moving away.

Blair was spending a long time wiping his hands with his napkin.

Jim couldn't stand the suffocation anymore. He shifted sideways and put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Naomi, order pie for us. Apple. Plain. I have to talk to Blair alone. Come on, Chief."

Blair wiped his hands a final time and stood awkwardly.

Maybe that picnic table wasn't such a great idea, Jim thought with a mixture on fondness and guilt. He put his hand on Blair's back and guided him out of the restaurant. He kept going until they were outside the front entrance and in the coolness of the spring evening.

Jim slowed then, moving farther along the building, away from the lobby. Finally, he rested his back against the wall.  Since Blair sank to the ground, Jim decided to join him there.

Blair's knees were bent and he grasped the sides of his head. "Is it me?" he demanded tersely. "Is it something in me that makes me feel that she's not listening to a word I'm saying?"  He hid his face in the shadow of his arms.

As Jim relaxed against the brick next to Blair, he reached to squeeze Blair's arm. "No, it's not you. You're trying to talk and she's not listening."

Blair scoffed. "She really expected us to go to Arizona with her on a retreat?"

That was too far-out. Jim said, "I don't think she really expected us to go for it."  Then, remembering why he brought them out here in the first place, he gently said, "I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you, Blair. When I saw Naomi alone that night, it came out that she'd tried to... get rid of you. But she also seemed to think that you somehow already knew."

Blair waved an arm dismissively. "I don't care about that," he said in a small voice. He lowered his hands and rested back against the brick. "It doesn't matter now."  His eyes darted to Jim. "You know?"

Jim nodded slowly, convinced that Blair was being sincere.

Blair gazed at nothing for a long moment. Then he quietly said, "I've wanted to tell her about me. About us. About how we work."

"I know," Jim said in a whisper, his stomach contracting.                            

"She doesn't want to listen," Blair said sadly.

That hurt to hear. Jim shifted. "No, I don't think that's it. Not really. I think - " he searched for the right words, "I think there's only certain things she can understand, and she doesn't want to hear about things she can't relate to."

Blair looked up at him. "Why? She was always interested in me before. We've always been able to talk about anything."

"Have you?" Jim wondered out loud. He looked directly at Blair.

Blair gazed at him a long time, his eyes wide. "Maybe not," he finally admitted in a whisper. "The fiasco with my thesis is just one example."

Yes, there was that. Jim wanted Blair to know how much of the conversation tonight resonated with him. "Chief, I've been right where you've been, not so long ago."

Blair's expression became curious.

"When I had lunch at my father's a few months ago, we were going through the clippings he had of me in a scrapbook he kept." Jim felt butterflies stir in his stomach. "It was such a shock to me to find that scrapbook during the Foster case. I thought my old man was so disappointed in me that... well," Jim shifted uncomfortably, "it was a big surprise to see that he actually was interested in what I'd done - was actually proud of it."

He paused, finding this harder to talk about than he'd expected.

"Yeah?" Blair prompted softly.

Jim swallowed. "For that News Update magazine cover, I started telling him about how I'd helped the Chopec preserve their land and their way of life. And how I'd lost my men," Jim felt his voice falter. He swallowed again. "But... he didn't get it. He didn'twant to get it. He didn't give a rat's ass about a bunch of natives running around in the jungle. And losing men was a part of being in the army. All he cared about was that his son was on the cover of News Update, which gave him bragging rights with his golf buddies."  Jim realized the anger was still with him - over the hopelessness that he could never get his father to understand what he'd been through, and the importance of his eighteen months with the Chopec.

Blair shifted so that he could rest against Jim. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

Jim had to swallow again. "Yes," he admitted softly, putting his arm around Blair.

"Do you think it's always this way with parents and children?"

Jim had to think about that. He'd known other people who had good relationships with their parents. "No. I think some parents can grow, just as their kids do. I guess it's similar to marriage:  the marriage needs to be able to absorb the growth and change in both people, or else it's doomed. Some marriages can't handle change. And some parents can't handle their children outgrowing them. Just as," Jim thought of one of Carolyn's friends who had been appalled when her father had gotten a new, young wife, "some children can't handle their parents going through major life changes when the nest is empty."

Blair's head was now leaning heavily against Jim's shoulder, and Jim shifted just enough to raise Blair's chin with his finger. "You've outgrown Naomi, Chief. You're so far past her that she can't relate to what you try to share with her now."  Reluctantly, he pointed out, "It's not her fault."  He released Blair's chin.

Blair's eyes remained on him as his mouth twisted into a tight smile. "Are you saying I should divorce my mom?"

Jim was about to say "of course not", but then he realized the phrasing might be somewhat apt. "Maybe, in a sense. Maybe you should try to stop expecting anything from her. That's the point I've reached with my father. He is who he is, and all the wishful thinking in the world isn't ever going to make him realize that I was important to the Chopec."

Blair swallowed harshly, his gaze shifting to stare out into the night. Eventually, he said, "It's just that, with my mom, so much of who I am is what she taught me."  He looked at Jim again. "All the meditation and spirituality I use - she's the foundation for all of that. So, of all people, I thought she'd understand...." He trailed off.

"You've left her way behind," Jim emphasized. "She never quite got out of high school - she keeps repeating the same learning over and over. All these retreats," Jim said with disapproval. "But you... you've taken what you've been taught and grown from it, and keep moving up to the next level."  He hugged Blair. "I think you left her behind a long time ago, Chief. But maybe it's been just recently that you and she both have realized it. I think that's why she felt she had to leave last time."

Blair considered that. Then, "You said she was jealous of me."

Jim shrugged, not proud of the frank statement he'd made then. "Maybe it wasn't the best word, but...."

Blair released a heavy breath. "Now what happens?"

Blair seemed calmer now. Light-heartedly, Jim replied, "We go back in there, have some pie, nod our heads as your mother chatters about whatever her heart desires. Then we pay the bill, and you tell her you love her and that she's welcome at the loft any time. Then we leave and continue our vacation."

Blair finally smiled. "You make it sound so easy, man."

"It can be," Jim said, hoping it was true. He stood and then helped Blair to his feet. "Accept her for who she is, not who you think she ought to be."

"That sounds profound," Blair noted.

Jim shrugged. "I heard it in a movie."  But he couldn't remember which one.

---

Twenty minutes later, they were in the RV with Jim driving. After having their pie, Naomi had again suggested that they spend the night there, but Jim and Blair had demurred.

As Jim turned out onto the road that would lead them to the highway, Blair asked, "Where to now?"

Jim shrugged. "Anywhere. I don't care."

"Maybe we should try the desert again," Blair suggested. "After all, the point of this trip was to rest your senses. They're more relaxed in open space like that."  Intrigued, he said, "Maybe you can have one of those experiences again where you're one with the whole universe."

Jim didn't reply.

Blair nudged, "You are an angel, after all."  He chuckled.

Jim grinned and glanced over at him. "So are you."

"Yeah," Blair said, feeling immense satisfaction at the thought. "I like being angels. Even if you and I are the only people on Earth who know it."

They were silent a moment, then Jim said, "We'll head north on the interstate until we find a rest stop where we can call it a night. Then we can figure out where we want to go tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Blair agreed. He grinned at Jim. "We've got nearly a week of vacation left. Maybe we can spend it getting so relaxed and bored that we'll be chomping at the bit to return to Cascade."

"Sounds good," Jim echoed.

Blair studied Jim as they merged with traffic on the interstate. He was grateful that Jim had been so understanding about the difficulty he'd had with Naomi. He felt so much better now. He was still let down that Naomi couldn't see him for who he was - the importance of the work he and Jim did together - but the pain from that realization was no longer as sharp.

Besides, he had Jim.

Blair grinned at partner. "I love you, man."

Jim's grin widened as he adjusted the rearview mirror.

---

EPILOGUE

Jim and Blair were sitting before Simon's desk as their captain gave them a rundown on the cases that had come and gone in their absence. As Simon wound down, the conversation became more relaxed.

Blair nodded toward the black angel figurines on Simon's desk. "I see you're keeping up with the fad of the times."

Simon glanced at the figures and grumbled, "You know damn well, Sandburg, that I've had those on my desk for years."

Sandburg chuckled, enjoying have caused a rise from their captain. It felt like home.

"Except," Simon's voice softened as he picked up a statuette larger than the others, "this one is new."

It wasn't part of the same set. But it was black and angelic looking. Simon continued, "I felt inspired when I saw it in a store. It was the day after that little girl had been found."  He suddenly looked at them. "Did you hear about that while you were down there?"

Jim shrugged casually. "We heard."

Blair bit his tongue and lowered his gaze.

"Personally," Simon went on, sitting back in his chair, "I think it's healthy for society to get a good, swift, spiritual kick-in-the-ass every now and then. Otherwise, we become too stuck in our pragmatic ways of thinking."

Jim nodded thoughtfully, but didn't reply.

Blair took that as his cue and smiled up at Simon. "Good point."  He was pleased to realize that he and Jim had the same lack of interest in sharing with Simon their part in Kimberly's rescue.  It was their own special secret. Blair doubted that Naomi had even understood what he'd tried to tell her about their involvement.

"Well, back to the grind," Simon concluded, holding out a stack of file folders.

"Thank you, sir," Jim said as he accepted them.

As they moved to the door, Blair considered the sincerity of Jim's tone. They were back. Relaxed. Rested. And home.

Home where angels did dare to tread.