HEART AND HOME

(c) March 2004 by Charlotte Frost

PART ONE

Blair rolled onto his stomach beneath his nest of blankets, and stretched out his arms and legs. There were advantages to being alone in bed and this was one of them. He let himself drift, having come up to consciousness only long enough to realize that this was Thursday. That meant Jim had left early for a dentist appointment and would be back before going on shift at two; and that he himself had no official cases that required him to be at the PD. He could go in with Jim, anyway, on unpaid time, or he could work at home with information he'd gathered on unsolved cases for which he was being paid as a consultant.

He let himself fall back to sleep until his subconscious became aware of Jim's return from the dentist. Blair let himself hover on the edge of wakefulness for a while longer. Eventually, he decided he was no longer sleepy.

He emerged from his cocoon, wondering how he could have felt so blissful under so many blankets. It was after ten and the bedroom was already becoming hot from the June heat. Jim would probably get out the fans tonight. One disadvantage to living so high up, despite the airy ceiling, was that heat from the whole building rose. In the summer, the loft could be sweltering.

Still, he pulled on a robe, if only out of habit, tied it loosely over his boxers and went downstairs.

Jim was standing near the kitchen with his hands on his hips, gazing toward Blair's old room.

Blair followed Jim's line of sight. It fell on his boxes, which were clustered between his old room and the kitchen table.

Blair prepared his defense. He couldn't put the boxes in his room because that small area was already filled with various papers spread about. Jim needed to understand that, in order to work most effectively, Blair required lots of room and sometimes even resorted to the kitchen table, though Jim frowned on it.

Blair waited for the bitching to start. But Jim continued to stare at the space, his eyes occasionally narrowing in contemplation.

"What?" Blair finally asked.

Jim glanced at him. "We need a bigger place, Chief."

Blair went over to the coffeemaker, annoyed that it only had a half cup left. As he prepared another pot, his irritation was tempered by his relief that Jim wasn't accusing him of cluttering up the loft; instead, he was talking about getting a new place..

"You love the loft," Blair reminded as he leaned back against the stove, crossed his arms, and waited for the coffee to percolate.

"What about you?" Jim asked, sounding neutral.

Blair shrugged. "I like it, too, but I've always been flexible about where I live. I can adapt anywhere."  He looked up as Jim stepped into the kitchen, wondering what other possibilities there were for them. "It seems like this place ought to be big enough for the two of us."

Jim nodded slowly. "One would think."  Hiis head shook back and forth. "But with your mess...."

Blair scrunched his face. "It's not a mess. I get a lot of work done. I just need to spread out."

"Yeeaah," Jim sighed. "So, we have to get a bigger place. Because I can't stand living with your junk all over."

At least Jim wasn't stating it as an accusation, but more as a fact.   Blair stuck his finger in his ear and twisted it, trying to get at an itch there. "Where else could we live?"

"We need to buy a house."

Blair stepped to the coffeemaker and filled his cup. Last fall, he and Jim had thought about buying a house - but said house would have been in Spokane, since Blair was being considered for a job there. He'd turned down the $92,000 annual salary after Simon had talked the Mayor and the Commissioner into giving him a consulting position with the Cascade PD. It was only on a case-by-case basis, but he got a paid a generous day rate when he was working on such cases. With other cases where his expertise wasn't needed, he sometimes helped Jim out, anyway; he just couldn't invoice for his time.

Then in February, while in a municipal building, Blair had come upon a hand-wringing corporate executive, whose employee, due to a sudden flight cancellation, was unable to teach a "How to Deal With the Public and Live through the Experience" seminar for clerical personnel who worked for the City of Cascade.  The executive himself had no teaching experience and canceling would cost his firm thousands in refunded registration fees. Always eager to help, Blair mentioned his teaching experience and said that if he had a half hour to study the material, he could wing it. The anxious executive agreed.

Blair had enjoyed being able to teach once again. His vast experience with different cultures had given him many colorful anecdotes and examples to draw from in order to emphasize the lessons of the material. After the seminar was over, many of the participants who actually filled out the evaluation questionnaire at the end were highly complimentary of Blair's ability to keep the material interesting.

The executive had offered Blair a contract for conducting seminars for various public entities in the Pacific northwest. Blair couldn't imagine investing his time in something like that, so he'd quoted the same high day rate the Cascade PD was paying him, as a way of saying "Thanks, but no thanks."  He was surprised when the corporation came back with a counter offer. It was quite a bit lower, but it allowed him to have flexibility in choosing which seminars to teach - and where and when - as long as he met his quota for the year. After discussing it with Jim, he decided to accept the contract. It meant he sometimes had to be out of town overnight - occasionally two nights - but it was a satisfying contrast to his police work.

Between the two jobs, Blair stayed busy. And to think that, a few short months ago, he'd been worried that his life with Jim might become too settled and mundane. On the contrary, they seemed to be spending even less time together than when Blair had been - theoretically, at least - a fulltime academic.

Now, their busy lives seemed to have outgrown the beloved loft. When they had thought about buying a house in Spokane, the romantic side of Blair had liked the idea of setting up housekeeping together. After having his first sip of caffeine this morning, he was enjoying the idea of that little dream being revisited.

Blair sipped his coffee again, then went up to Jim and put his arm around his waist. "There's some nice, charming houses in that neighborhood southeast of Rainier. They're old but most of them have been fixed up. A lot of professors live there."

Jim made a little snort that was the equivalent of rolling his eyes. "Houses in that neighborhood are too small. Almost any old 'charming' house is going to be.  We need a place large enough where you can spread out your stuff to your heart's content and it still won't be infringing upon our living space. We need one of those big, oversized houses that they build as standard now."

Blair had visions of a huge, sprawling desk... credenzas along the walls, filled with his books and research materials. Tall, solid oak bookcases.... "Can we afford something that big?"

"Probably. Interest rates are pretty decent nowadays. You're earning a good income. Our combined income ought to get us into just about anything we could possibly want."

Really? Blair grinned up at him. "Then let's do it. How do we start?"

"If we go to a realtor, they're going to want to know what we can afford. In order to figure that out, we need to get our finances together and see where we're at."  He squeezed Blair's shoulder. "Let's do that tonight, huh? Can you have some numbers together by then?"

"I'll start on it right now."  Blair felt almost as excited as when he and Jim had first decided to stay together, less than a year ago. So much had happened since then.

After taking a step away from Jim, he leaned back against him and took Jim's left hand, holding it in his own. He looked down at the rings on their fingers, which they'd purchased in December on Blair's last day of school. He'd never thought having a relationship would ever mean so much to him, let alone the idea of ever having a permanent one. Not only was his life full of excitement and challenge, but it was also full of love.

Blair was all the more amazed that his feelings of love and stability were so prominent, considering that he and Jim could go three or four days straight without sex and not even notice. His security in their partnership wasn't from the physical pleasure they could give each other, but in the simple joy and peace they felt when they were together, and in each knowing the other would always be there.

They exchanged chaste kisses, and then Blair moved to their aquarium to feed the fish. Moving the 75-gallon tank would be a major undertaking - and they would probably lose some fish in the process - but they couldn't remain at the loft just because of the fish.

Feeling excited about their future, Blair hurried back upstairs to dress.

As Jim bent to retrieve his cheese-and-crackers from the vending machine, he was aware of someone coming up behind him. The perfume identified her as Rhonda.

"Jim?" she said as he straightened.

"Hi, Rhonda."  He unwrapped his snack, wondering why she was standing so close.

"Jim," she repeated hesitantly, "I realize I should probably be talking to Blair about this, but I never know what his schedule is...."

"I don't think any of us do."  Blair had ended up deciding not to come in to the PD that afternoon. Jim suspected he was going to do some browsing around the internet for a house, even though actually looking was getting ahead of schedule.

Still, Jim was glad that Blair liked the idea. It had been brewing in the back of his mind for some time. He'd had some difficulty with the concept of leaving the loft, but now that the decision had been made to buy a house, he was eager to get the change underway.

Rhonda smiled and seemed to relax. "So, I thought I'd ask you to ask him about something."

"Sure."  He took the first bite of cracker.

"I was wondering if he might be looking for an assistant to help him out."

"An assistant?"  Jim wondered why Rhonda might think Blair would need one. He was actually a lot more organized at the PD than he was at home.

"Yes. You see, my younger sister is out of work and having a rough time. She's got two young children and her husband worked in logging and got laid off a year ago and still hasn't found a job. They're desperate. She's a good organizer and has basic accounting and computer skills. She could do any kind of administrative work. I just thought that, with all the seminars he's been giving, that Blair might need somebody...."

"I'll ask him," Jim said. "But don't get your hopes up. Blair's always worked pretty independently. He's busy, but not busy enough to be able to pay a salary for an employee."

"I understand. But even just part time would be something. I thought it was worth mentioning."

"I'll let him know."

"Thanks, Jim." She walked off.

As Jim bit into another cracker, he made up his mind on Blair's behalf. Even if Blair did need an assistant someday, it wouldn't be anybody related to someone they knew. After all, Blair was working out of the loft a lot of the time now. The last thing they needed was for an "employee" to gossip to somebody at the PD about their private life. It had nothing to do with the nature of their relationship - that was common knowledge - but, instead, it concerned simple privacy.

Simon walked in with change in his hand. "Do you have a quarter?"

Jim pulled the contents of his pocket out, found a quarter, and dropped it into Simon's hand.

"Thanks."  Simon inserted the coins into the machine.

"Hey, Simon, what do you know about real estate these days?"

"Why?"  Simon pulled the handle for a Mars bar. "My sister works for a mortgage company."

"The loft has gotten too small for Blair and me. We're thinking about getting a house."

Simon straightened and unwrapped the bar. "You want me to have her give you a call?"

"Sure. That would be great."

"What about the loft? You going to sell it?"

"We haven't talked about it yet. Why?"

"If you rent it out, Daryl and his fiancée might be interested.  Of course, I'd probably have to help him with the payments until he graduates from the academy and has a job. But he's always liked your loft and they need to get out of the dump they're living in now. I think Sheila would like living in a place that doesn't have a yard to take care of."

Jim considered that. Keeping the loft in the family, so to speak, was an appealing idea.  "We'll have to see how the money works out when we start putting real figures together. In the meantime, why don't you check with Daryl and Sheila to make sure they're seriously interested."

"I'll do that."

Jim and Blair sat across from each other at the dining table. Blair had just added an armload of papers to the stacks of Jim's that were already on the table.

Jim placed a sheet of paper in the small space between them. "I've worked on a budget of what we spend now and what we're likely to spend on a new place, with the higher utilities and yard maintenance.  I think we could afford a mortgage on a three-to-four-hundred-thousand-dollar home, if we can come up with the down money."

"Wow," Blair said. Even though he knew that home values had increased significantly the past decade, three or four hundred thousand still sounded like something that only rich people could afford.

"The down money would have an effect on how much of it we'd have to mortgage. So, we need to figure what we can pull from savings and what you have coming in.  It would be great if we could pull it off without having to sell the loft."

"Why would we keep it?"  Then Blair brightened. "Oh, you mean rent it out instead?"

"Simon said that Daryl and Sheila might be interested. If we could afford it, it would be nice to give them a break on the rent until Daryl graduates and gets a job."

"Yeah, they're nice kids," Blair said, but his voice had a flat, distant quality.

Jim looked up from his figures. "What's wrong?"

Piercing blue eyes looked right at him. "You already talked to Simon about this?"

Jim knew what was coming but he pretended he didn't, since he couldn't come up with an adequate defense right then. "It just happened to come up. He mentioned his sister works for a mortgage company, so I told him to go ahead and have her call us. Why?"

Blair sat back in his chair. "Nothing."  But then he said, "I just feel weird that you talked to somebody else about something that I think should be decided between us first. We aren't even sure what we're doing yet, but you've already told Simon that we're buying a house."

Jim released an impatient sigh. "If you want to get another mortgage company instead of using Simon's sister, go ahead. I just, personally, find it easier to deal with people who I know through somebody else. But if you want to get some Joe Blow out of the phone book, I'm not going to argue about it."  He dealt his trump card. "You'll just have to be the one to tell Simon that we don't want to give his sister's company our business."

Blair muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath. He then leaned forward over the papers, indicating that Jim had won the argument before it had flared into a genuine fight.

Being partners in all things had been, overall, a tremendous improvement in their lives. But the one drawback was that they tended to snipe at each other more about the little things.

Wedded bliss, Jim thought, trying to keep a sense of humor.

He looked at Blair expectantly. "What invoices do you have that haven't been paid yet?"

Blair grabbed a stack and thumbed through it, muttering case names. Then he said, "There's about four thousand dollars that should come in between now and the end of the month."

Jim frowned. That can't be right. Between his PD case consultations and teaching the seminars, Blair didn't have many days where he wasn't doing something in a paid capacity.

Blair must have read his expression. "I haven't invoiced everything yet."

"Why not?"

"I just haven't gotten around to it all."

"What about that Patterson case? With all the expenses you had, that's got to be over five thousand by itself."

"I know.  I've got most of the receipts together but I'm still missing a few. They're around here somewhere."

Jim tried to hold his temper. "Christ, Chief, that case wrapped up six weeks ago."

"I know, Jim. I just wanted to make sure I had all the receipts together before I turned in an invoice."

"What else haven't you invoiced?" Jim asked, hearing the frustrated edge in his voice. "What about those jerk twins last week? That case was over before it even started, so there was nothing to it."

"Exactly. No sooner had I glanced at the file, than the one brother confessed.  I mean, I can't really see charging the City when I didn't do anything."

Jim felt a growing sense of horror. "Chief, your contract says that if you're called in by the PD for any fraction of a day, you charge for the full day, plus expenses. It's not your fault the guy confessed the minute you picked up the file."

"I know."  Blair's expression turned sheepish. "I just feel weird about it. Like I'm ripping them off."

Jim felt exasperated, even though he could sympathize with Blair's dilemma. "You're the one who's gotten ripped off all these years, working your tail off for the PD and getting nothing but 'you're not a cop' thrown in your face. If it makes it easier, think of it as back pay."

Blair's gaze was lowered. "I know. I can make all the arguments to myself but it still doesn't make it any easier."  He looked up. "I hate this part of my job. I hate it. I'm sorry, but I just feel weird, turning in invoices for an incredible amount of money that I never expected to get paid in my wildest dreams."

"Doesn't change the fact that you owe an 'incredible amount of money' on your student loans."

"I know."  Blair suddenly looked weary. "Look, Jim, give me a couple of days and I promise I'll invoice everything up until yesterday. And then we'll see how much that adds up to."

Jim decided not to grumble about the fact that it took sixty to ninety days for the City of Cascade to issue a check, starting from the date that an invoice was submitted to the accounts payable department.  He was seeing his intentions for a prompt, efficient house purchase going down the tubes.

"I'm sorry," Blair said quietly. "I've been excited about this ever since you mentioned it this morning. But I don't know the first thing about buying a house, and I didn't realize that the invoicing I haven't done yet would matter."

"It's not just the house," Jim said, still annoyed with the whole situation, "it's that you're cheating yourself out of an income that's rightfully yours. And since you're cheating yourself, you're also cheating me - our livelihood."

"Yeah," Blair said with a heavy sigh. "I see that. I've just been so busy - "

Jim held up a hand. "I know, I know. We both are. We've let a lot of things slide that we need to get taken care of as soon as possible."

"Like what?"

"Like taxes," Jim said unhappily. "You should be making estimated quarterly tax payments, and here it is June and I know you've missed the first quarter."

"How can I make estimated payments when I have no idea what I'm going to end up making this year?"

"I don't know. We need to hire a CPA to help with that. But I think you're going to get fined for missing the first quarter."

"Geez. I've made so little that I haven't owed taxes in my entire life and now all of a sudden I'm on Uncle Sam's shit list."

"And then we need to get some kind of retirement plan started for you. That'll help reduce your taxes. Then there's disability insurance, life insurance."  They had, at least, not wasted any time in getting Blair top-of-the-line health insurance, once he was out of school.

As he watched Blair grow more depressed, Jim added, "I've been meaning to tell you about an article I read at the dentist's office. Based on some stuff it said, it sounds like it would be to your advantage to incorporate."

Blair rested his chin in his hands. "I don't know anything about all this stuff, and I hate it when I have to do things that I don't know anything about."

"I know."  Jim felt his humor returning. At least Blair was paying attention.  Besides... "The only reason you have to deal with all this crap is because you've come into your own this year and you're successful and making lots of money. You should be proud of yourself for that."

"I've been too busy to feel proud of myself."  But Blair's mouth corner twitched into a smile, indicating that Jim had made his point.

"Anyway," Jim said, "we'll take it one step at a time. I'll call my father for some CPA referrals or maybe an overall financial manager. In the meantime, get your invoicing caught up."

Blair nodded, sighed heavily, and grabbed some of the papers he'd brought to the table. "I'll get started on it now."

Jim rose from his chair, went around the table to Blair, and leaned down to put his arms around Blair's upper body. He hugged him. "Don't start right now. Wait until morning."

"Why?"

Jim nuzzled his cheek. "Because I can think of something a lot more fun and enjoyable we can do tonight instead."  He kissed Blair hungrily. Then he murmured, "You taste good enough to eat."

Blair leaned back in his chair and reached up to clasp Jim's face. "You're so predictable. You get cranky about something. And then you calm down and get rational. And then you get horny."

"I'm definitely at the horny phase."  Jim rubbed his hands up and down the front of Blair's shirt, while wetly kissing his face.

"I like your horny phase," Blair whispered between kisses.

Jim made himself let go of Blair. "Shower. Then we go upstairs."

Blair lay awake in the middle of the night, still relishing the sated feeling from being thoroughly loved - multiple times.

He was silently amused as he put a mental stamp of "official" on his observation that when Jim got tense over everyday mundane things, it meant he was sexually frustrated and needed to get laid.

Beside Blair, Jim rolled over to face him and suddenly went still. He was wearing his mask and Blair knew he was reaching out with his senses. Therefore, he wasn't surprised when Jim asked, "You okay?"

"Uh-huh."  Blair snuggled up against his shoulder. After a moment, he said, "Just thinking about where I might have put those other receipts."

Jim hugged him. "If you can't find them, turn in what you have."

"I will."  Blair realized he was sweating, even though the afterglow had worn off. "It's hot."

"Mmm. Tomorrow we'll set up the fans."

"We need to get a new place with air conditioning."

"We will."

Blair realized what was really on his mind. "I can't believe that I can afford to have just about anything I want, materialistically-speaking."

Jim pushed his mask up. "What? You thought you'd get a Ph.D. and still live in the poor house?"

"Uh-huh."

Jim hugged him again. "You put the Jewish stereotype to shame, Chief."

"What do you mean?"

"You know... that Jewish people love their money."

"I love money. I just never expected to have any. Even now, it doesn't feel like I have it."

"You don't."  Jim closed his eyes. "You won't have it until you send the City a bill."

Blair nudged him with a fist. "I'm serious. You're talking about buying a three-or- four-hundred-thousand-dollar house... as though we're always going to be making this kind of money."

"Why wouldn't we? Would you feel better if we kept living frugally and put a bunch of money in savings, so it just sat there and didn't do any good for anybody?"

Blair thought about that. "I know it's stupid but it's like I feel guilty. Or, at the very least, that this is just a lucrative time that's going to end somewhere down the line. And then we'll have to give back all the expensive stuff we bought."

"Anything is possible, but I don't think it makes any sense to plan one's life around potential disaster."  Jim opened his eyes and looked at Blair. "Besides, if disaster did come our way, we'd work it out."

That, at least, was reassuring.

Blair leaned forward and kissed him.

"You know, Chief, my father isn't in the best of health and he's probably going to be around only a few more years. Since Stephen's gone, thanks to that damned car accident, and my father already has trust funds set up for his grandkids... well, he'll probably leave quite a bit to you and me."  He tweaked Blair's nose. "So face it, Mr. Hughes, money is in your future whether you want it or not."

That was a heavy thought. To lighten the mood, Blair said, "I just have to learn to get over my shyness about collecting it."

"Uh-huh," Jim said off-handedly. Then, "You could hire a secretary."

Blair couldn't even conceive of that and assumed Jim was joking. "That'll be the day. Students are one thing, but I can't see bossing around an underling in a work situation.  It just isn't in my nature."

"I'm serious. It might help you. Not just with keeping your receipts and things organized, but a secretary could do the invoicing for you. She could keep up with all of that so you don't have to worry about it. She could organize your materials for seminars, set up your travel plans...."

Blair furrowed his brow suspiciously. "Where is this coming from all of a sudden?"

"I got the idea from Rhonda. Her sister is looking for a job and she wondered if you might need an assistant of some kind."

Once again, Blair had the uncomfortable feeling of being left out of something important. "And you're just now telling me?"

Jim laid his hand on Blair's wrist in a placating gesture. "I'd forgotten about it. Rhonda just mentioned it today."

"Hmm. Maybe I should give her a call."

"No, you wouldn't want Rhonda's sister."

"Why not? Have you met her?"

"No, but I wouldn't want somebody who knows Rhonda hanging out at our place."

"Why not?"

Blair felt Jim bristle with impatience. "Because her sister could gossip to Rhonda about us. I mean," Jim snorted, "I don't want it getting out to our co-workers about what brand of lubricant we use or how dirty our underwear is."

Blair felt he was on another planet. "What? You think an assistant would be hanging out in our bedroom?"

"I'm just saying that if you hire somebody when we get our new place, that person is going to have to be there when neither of us is home. You never know what kind of snooping around they're going to do. If somebody is going to snoop, I'd rather it be somebody who doesn't know other people who are friends or co-workers of ours."

Blair could understand that - sort of. "But what about Simon's sister? If we apply for a mortgage with her company, isn't she going to see our financial documents and know how much money we make?"

"She's in a professional position. If she has any ethics, she wouldn't talk about that to Simon or anybody else."

"Whereas, being a mere assistant, Rhonda's sister wouldn't have any ethics at all and she would gossip. Gotcha."

Jim growled and leaned over Blair.

Blair laughed but it was quickly hushed up by Jim's lingering kiss.

Blair couldn't believe it; his cock was gearing up for round two.

Or was it round three?

"And here," the realtor said as she made a sweeping gesture with her arm, "are the cherry cabinets, complete with beautiful ornamental handles."  She opened one.

Blair smiled politely and focused on the brochure for the style of model home they were looking at. He couldn't wait to get out of there. This was the fifth one they'd looked at in this suburban development.

"Yeah, that's nice," Jim said. He sounded genuinely impressed.

Blair restrained a sigh.

"So, gentlemen, are you ready to return to my office and discuss what it would take to get into one of our beautiful homes?"

"Sure," Jim said.

"Uh...," Blair said to the woman, "could you please give us a few minutes alone first?"

Her smile remained cheerful. "Certainly. Just pull the door shut behind you when you leave, so that it locks. Please stop by my office when you're ready."

"Thank you."

Jim leaned his forearms on the tiled kitchen counter as she left. Then he said, "What's wrong, Chief?"

Blair tried to hold his temper. "Do you really like this house, Jim?"

Jim shrugged. "It has the space we need. With the master bedroom on this floor, we could knock out the walls on some of the bedrooms upstairs and you could have a huge office area."  He looked at Blair squarely. "You don't like it?"

Blair sighed loudly. "Jim for being a three-hundred-and-forty-thousand-dollar home, this sure looks to me like it's made out of a bunch of cheap shit."

Jim furrowed his brow. "I didn't know you were such an expert on building houses."

"I'm not. But I know what my eyes tell me. I mean," he turned to survey the kitchen, "this all looks fancy at first glance. But up close, it's just...," he sputtered for the right words, "covering up a very ordinary, 3200-square-foot house. It's like cheap wood beautifully decorated to hide how ordinary it is."  Blair moved toward the sliding glass door to the back yard. "And look how close together all these houses are. They hardly even have a yard big enough for a dog.  All the rest of the pseudo-rich can cram into this neighborhood and pretend they're genuinely rich, just like we would."

"I'm listening," Jim said. "What do you want to do instead?"

"For one thing," Blair replied, turning back toward him, "if we're going to spend this kind of money, I'd at least like it to be for a house I can feel some pride in owning. That has some quality to it that's going to last for years and years. That has some character.And a yard. And neighbors who aren't so close we don't have to worry about them hearing us fucking if our window is open."

Jim straightened. "Maybe we won't be fucking anymore. We might lose interest once we're more settled and not want to do it much."

Blair shook a finger at him. "Not likely."

Jim grinned and held out his arm.

Blair came over to him and their arms went around each other.

"All right," Jim said with a sigh. "No more model homes. Really, Chief, all I care about is that there's enough space for you to have what you need. So, since you're the one with all the particulars, why don't you do some shopping for what you have in mind and when you find something you're interested in, we'll take a look."

Blair frowned. "What about looking together?"

"We will - once you narrow down some choices. I mean, I'm not really sure what you have in mind. So I don't know how to help you look."

"Okay," Blair said, thinking this wasn't as fun as it had sounded before. Still, he was glad that Jim was respecting his wishes.

They left the brochures in the house, made sure the door was locked behind them, and went to the truck without saying goodbye to the realtor.

Two weeks later, Jim sat at his desk, wishing that it were later than eleven in the morning. Blair's flight wasn't due to arrive until 4:30 that afternoon. He was in Eugene, Oregon, giving a seminar.

Jim couldn't recall the last time they had sex. Blair in particular had been so busy lately. Jim was getting tired of coming home to an empty loft.  He was considering talking to Blair about cutting back on his responsibilities and starting to say "no" to some of the assignments coming his way.  Yet, one never knew when the Commissioner would review the budget and decide that too much money had been spent on "consulting" and would therefore solve the problem by cutting back on the use of Blair. With such a thing always possible, it was difficult to consider cutting back voluntarily as a smart move. If nothing else, at least Blair was creating a lot of income while he had the motivation and energy to do so.

With fond amusement, Jim remembered when he and Blair had finally sat down and figured out where they were at financially, after Blair had caught up on all his invoicing. He remembered Blair adding up his stack of receivables over and over, as though he couldn't believe the amount he kept coming up with.

Blair was well on his way to making over a hundred grand this year.

Of course, because he was so busy, he had little time for anything other than PD-related research, travel, preparation for seminars and giving the seminars themselves.

Blair had said nothing further about house-shopping since Jim had dumped all the responsibility in his lap. He obviously hadn't had much time to spend on it.

Jim sighed. He felt a touch guilty about abandoning the house-hunting project to Blair. It was just that he genuinely didn't feel he could be of much help, since only Blair himself really understood what he wanted. In the meantime, Simon's sister had said her company approved their loan application, so they wouldn't have to sell the loft to put money down on a nice house.

Now, it was just a matter of finding the house.

The phone rang and Jim picked it up. "Ellison."

"Jimmy."

"Dad, hello."  

"I've got the number of the financial counselor I wanted to recommend."

"Great. Go ahead."

"555-6262. Phillip Takei. Asian fellow. He said he had a cancellation late this afternoon, if you're interested."

"I might be," Jim said, thinking that if he and Blair met with him as soon as Blair's flight came in, they wouldn't have reason to put it off. "I'll give him a call. Thanks a lot."

While hanging up, Jim accepted the pink telephone message that Rhonda handed him as she went by his desk. Ernie, his regular snitch, had info on his hottest case and wanted to meet at his usual hangout. The hangout was a café in an out-of-the-way part of town, so Jim could grab lunch at the same time.

After talking with Ernie and stuffing himself with a tasteless sandwich and not-fully-cooked fries, Jim's afternoon got off to a frustrated start when he found himself stuck in traffic.

When he had the chance, he pulled off onto a side street. It didn't lead to the street he needed to be on. He had to make numerous turns before he was headed back in the general direction of the PD, still avoiding the jammed boulevard that he'd normally have taken.

While traveling on a tree-lined side street, his attention was caught by a sign that read "House for Sale" with an arrow pointing in the direction he was going.

He was in a nicer part of town now so his interest was piqued. He drove until he reached another sign that indicated he should turn right. He did.

He drove down a narrow private lane where the trees were so heavy and full that they formed an arch over a depression in the road. After emerging from the dip, the road opened into a circular drive in front of a red-bricked, tri-level house. The front yard was large and open, the outlining trees maintaining the sense of privacy.  

Jim got out and walked around, wondering what Blair would think. The house had a high arched roof, and the left front side had a pillar. It was almost like a Tudor style house but the rest of the structure seemed more modern. He took the flyer from the display case out front. The house had been built in 1940. There was a huge list of recent upgrades. It was in their price range and was ready to be moved into.

Jim went to the wooden gate on one side. It wasn't locked, so he went into the backyard. There was a small fountain display, a flower garden, an expansive patio, and a yard. Still a rather small yard, relative to the size of the house, but Does Blair really want to get a dog? They wouldn't be home enough to keep it company or take care of it properly.

Jim went back to his truck. He took out his cell and dialed the number of the realtor on the flyer.

A few hours later, Blair let out a weary sigh as Jim guided the pickup out of the airport parking lot. Blair was still dressed in his "seminar clothes" - slacks with a jacket and sweater - making him look casually professorial. His hair was just starting to frizz and his round glasses were perched on his nose.

After some small talk Jim announced, "We're going to an appointment with a financial advisor that my dad recommended."

"Right now?" Blair asked unhappily.

"Uh-huh."

"Ah man, Jim, I'm not in the mood for this."

"I'm not either. But you know we'll never get around to it if we put it off. We need to get some stuff taken care of, like your taxes. This is just an introductory meeting, where he'll tell us what he can do for us and what kind of paperwork he'll need from us for the next meeting."

Blair wasn't looking at him. "Since you said you don't have to go back into work this afternoon, I was hoping we could go back to the loft...."

"I know. But we need to do this."  Jim really did sympathize with how tired Blair looked, how long it had been since they'd made love. He reached over and put his arm around Blair's shoulders. Tenderly, he said, "We'll pick something up for dinner tonight. Afterwards, I'll give you a hot bath and a rubdown. How does that sound?"

Blair unbuckled his seat belt and slid over to him. He snuggled against Jim's arm. "Good."

As he drove, Jim rubbed a small circle along Blair's shoulder with his fingertips. "Chief? When do you have to leave town again?"

"Wednesday I have to drive to Yakima. Then the next Thursday and Friday I have an overnighter in Spokane."

Damn. Jim carefully said, "If you're feeling worn out, maybe you ought to think about turning down an occasional job here and there."

"I've already thought about that."  Blair shifted so his mouth wasn't so muffled against Jim.  "I'm thinking that I might take the entire holiday season off. Thanksgiving through New Year's. The seminar season is dead then. And maybe I'll just say no to the PD, unless there's a really hot case where the timeliness matters."

Jim blinked. He'd no idea Blair had been thinking along those lines. But what a relief that was. "You should. That would be great. You deserve it. And then you could focus on getting some things organized.  Hopefully, you'll have a secretary by then, too."

Blair grunted. "We need to get a house first and I haven't even had time to check out some leads I found."

Jim smiled inwardly. "Maybe something will pan out."

Ten minutes later, Blair said, "This is a nice neighborhood."  He sat up, yawning.

"Uh-huh."

"Mm," Blair said after another moment, "there's a sign for a house for sale. Maybe we should check it out."  But he didn't sound enthused.

"Maybe we should."  Jim turned into the lane the next sign pointed to.

"I didn't really mean it."

"I know."

Blair perked up as the truck maneuvered beneath the arches of trees lining the road. A moment later, the house came into view. A car, with an elderly woman standing next to it, was parked in the front.

"Ah, there she is," Jim said, giving Blair a clue.

"Who?"

"The realtor."

"Huh?"

Jim chuckled. As he pulled the truck to a halt behind the woman - who waved at them - he said, "I just happened to come by here earlier today and saw this house. I called the realtor and asked her to meet us. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"I'm surprised," Blair said. They got out of the truck.

After the introductions, the realtor unlocked the front door and let them inside. She talked about all the features of the house as she led them through it, while Jim and Blair looked on, each silently taking in his own impressions. It was 2400 square feet, including a small bedroom in the attic. There were three bedrooms upstairs. The main floor had hardwood floors and an updated kitchen - larger than the loft, but still small enough so that all the cabinets and appliances were within easy reach - and a living room and separate dining room area. There was also a small breakfast nook surrounded by windows. A few steps down, on the lowest level, was a family room with a fireplace.

As they stood looking at the family room, Jim said, "This could be your office, Chief. You could have this entire open space, and yet you wouldn't be very far away from the main area of the house. So, while I'm watching TV or something at night, and you're working, it's not like you'd be locked away in a separate wing of the house."

The realtor pointed out that there was a furnished basement. The family room opened into the spacious two-car garage.

Blair seemed thoughtful as they continued to move through the house. When they opened a sliding glass door onto the back patio, he noted the little fountain arrangement. "That's a bit ostentatious," he said with a chuckle.

Jim braced himself for Blair to comment about the small back yard and the dog thing. But instead, Blair said, "The front yard is incredible," when they came back toward the foyer.

It occurred to Jim that, with a gate at the entrance, it would be easy to make the front yard appropriate for a dog. If they were going to do the dog thing.

"We have another appointment to get to," Jim said when the lady looked at them expectantly. "Thanks so much for coming out on such short notice. If you don't hear from us in a day or two, give us a call."

"I'll do that."

Jim would have liked to have assured her of their interest, but he didn't know what Blair was thinking.

As they were driving away, Jim asked, "So, what did you think? You were being awfully quiet."

"It was just a lot to take in."  Blair was slunk down in his seat.

"And?"

"Did you really just spot this house today?"

Jim tried to hold his temper, as he had an idea where this was leading. "Yes. That's why I thanked the lady for coming on such short notice. Chestnut Boulevard had a big traffic jam, so I had to drive through this neighborhood to get back to the PD after seeing Ernie, my snitch."  He look at Blair sharply, "You don't believe me?"

"I do."

"What?" Jim prompted, Blair's lack of communication irritating him all the more. "Since I'm the one who found the house - after we agreed you were going to look for one - you automatically don't like it?"

Blair shifted restlessly and finally straightened. "No," he said emphatically. "I like the house. I like it a lot."

They turned out of the private lane and Blair gestured as he said, "The way it feels so private is wonderful, even though it's right here in town."

That was good news, at least. "That's what I like about it, too. And it's got the charm and quality you were after, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh."

"And enough room for what you and I both need."

"Yeah."  Blair finally looked over at him. "I assume it's in our price range."

"It is."

"Then let's pursue it."

Jim was relieved. "I'll call her as soon as we get home. First, we have to see the financial advisor."

"Ah, man."

"Come on, it won't be that bad. You can just sit in his office and sulk if you want and I'll do all the talking."

"I don't sulk."

Jim grinned.

After the meeting, they returned to the loft and had Thai food take-out for dinner. Jim called the real estate agent and said they wanted to put an offer on the house, once an inspector had given a stamp of approval.

Jim gave Blair the warm bath he'd promised, then a rubdown in bed. Blair fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

They awoke early enough the next morning to make love. After drifting blissfully for a while, Jim finally got up. He dressed while Blair lounged around in bed, fully awake.

"You going to stay home all day?" Jim asked hopefully.

Blair nodded. "I have to look over the material for the seminar next week. It's one I haven't given before. And then I can get on the internet to try to run down some ideas I have on that Andersen case I'm working on."

Jim stepped into his pants. "That's the old one they're hoping you might find a fresh perspective on?"  It had been such a tragedy when three teenage girls were murdered in their homes eight years before, within a few months of each other. None of the leads had panned out and the case had gone cold.

"Uh-huh."  Blair sat up, resting against the headboard. "Is that whole chicken still in the freezer?"

"Yep."

"I'll roast it for dinner. Call me as soon as you know if you're going to make it home at a decent hour."

Jim zipped his fly. "I probably will get off on time. There's not much going on today."  He reached for a shirt from his closet. "You like that Mr. Takei okay?"  They'd been so focused on the house after their appointment that they had hardly discussed their meeting.

"I like him fine," Blair said, shifting restlessly. "But Jim -" He waited until Jim looked down at him. "Seriously, I don't really want to be involved in this stuff. I don't understand it and I don't have time to learn it. Why don't you be the one who talks to him about everything?"

Jim couldn't help but notice that there had been a note of irritation in Blair's voice - a note that was becoming increasingly common. "I'd be happy to."  He sat on Blair's side of the bed and put on his socks. "But does that mean that, six months from now, you're going to be pissed off when you've gotten wind of some decision I made on behalf of both of us?"

"Pissed off?"

Jim couldn't decide whether Blair was truly puzzled or being argumentative. "Yes. You get irritable whenever you feel that I've made a decision for both of us, without consulting you."  He bent to put on his shoes, while directing his voice over his shoulder at Blair. "You can't have it both ways. You can't tell me all the financial decisions are up to me, and then be mad at me later for making those decisions without you."

There was silence. Just as Jim straightened, now fully dressed, his felt Blair's arms around his shoulders.

"I don't mean to be irritable," Blair said softly. "Keep pointing out to me when I am. You don't deserve it. At least, not most of the time."

Jim grinned at the disclaimer. He turned his face toward Blair's, which was only an inch away. "Does that mean you really want the house and you aren't just saying yes to please me?"

"Uh-huh."  Blair rubbed his cheek against Jim's. "I'm sorry I didn't seem very enthused yesterday. I just wanted to go home and curl up with you, and it's like you'd made all these other arrangements out of the blue."

With forced patience, Jim said, "That's what I mean:  you're stretched so thin that you don't have time to participate in many of the day-to-day details concerning us. Yet, when I take care of those details, you're upset with me about it."

Blair frowned, running his hand back through his hair. "I just feel left out sometimes."

Jim shifted to face him. "I'm trying to include you. But you just now said you don't want anything to do with the finances."

"I know, I know."  Blair waved his hand in the air. Then, subdued, "Sometimes I feel like I'm on a runaway train to nowhere."

That sounded ominous. Trying to be reasonable, Jim said, "Chief, if you feel like you're spinning your wheels, maybe it's time to get off that train. If you aren't happy - "

"I am happy."  Blair took a breath, then met Jim's eye. "I like what I do, Jim. Day in and day out, I like it. Even though the traveling gets tiring. It's just that I'm afraid I'm going to look up one day and realize that ten years have gone by, and all I have to show for it is that I'm ten years older."

Jim furrowed his brow, not understanding.

Jaw firm, Blair said, "I mean - what's the point of all this money and all this stuff we're buying? What's the goal at the end of the line? I don't know."  He released a heavy breath. "I have no idea where this train is headed and that bothers me. That bothers me a lot."  He turned toward the opposite wall.

Whoa. Jim felt as though he was missing a huge puzzle piece. He placed his hand on Blair's back. Quietly, he asked, "Where do you want it to be headed?"

"I don't know."  Then, more evenly, "You don't need to worry about this, Jim. I guess I went from zero to seventy so fast that my head's still spinning."  He presented a forced smile as he rolled onto his back. "I mean, this time last year, I was facing graduation and wondering where the heck I was going to be a year later. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. Now I'm doing so much - more than I ever imagined and getting paid more than I ever imagined - that it's almost overwhelming sometimes."  He reached to squeezed Jim's hand. "It'll be okay. Everything just feels different from what I've been used to."

Jim wasn't sure if he felt better or worse. He said wryly, "I hope some of those differences, at least, are for the better."  He started to pull his hand away.

Blair squeezed harder, not letting go. His smile was genuine this time. "I love you. I know you love me. That's not in question."  

That was a relief, at least.

Blair continued, "Maybe I just need to stop and take a breath. I'll start letting people know that I'm taking time off for the holidays."

"Good idea," Jim said, leaning forward to kiss Blair's cheek.

A couple of days later, Jim sat across from Simon at a small diner, where they had stopped for lunch.

As they ate, Simon said, "It's funny how little Blair has ended up hanging around Major Crimes. Seems like I hardly ever see him anymore."

Jim sipped his water, having no comment to that.

"This all working out for him okay?"

"Yeah," Jim replied, knowing Simon would pick up on his hesitant tone. Keeping his gaze averted, he said, "He's just going through some stuff."

Simon dipped his head, trying to catch Jim's eye. "You need someone to talk to?"

"It's hard for me to know what's going on with him," Jim admitted, hearing the frustration in his voice. "He just seems so... uptight lately."

"Maybe he's stretching himself too thin."

"He says he isn't. He says it's just from going from 'zero to seventy' in too short of a time and he's trying to catch up."

Simon made a face of disbelief. "Was he ever at zero? I've thought he's been going seventy - if not faster - for as long as I've known him."

Jim shifted with discomfort. "Yeah. And he talks about not knowing where his life is going. That after having always been the most spontaneous guy I know."

Delicately, Simon asked, "Do you think he might be having some doubts about you two being essentially married?"

Jim shook his head, feeling some relief at his answer. "He already went through some doubts about that, back when we first - you know. It was hard for him to feel as my equal. I think he's over that now. It's more...," Jim picked at a kernel of food between his teeth, "that he's freaked out about all this money he's making. We're looking into buying this expensive house, which we can afford, but it's like he can't just relax and let himself enjoy what all his hard work and money can buy."

"Except for the Volvo," Simon pointed out.

"Except for the Volvo," Jim said with a grin. Blair had practically had it rebuilt. At least now it was reliable.

Simon slowly chewed his hamburger. Then he put it down, wiped his mouth, and propped his elbows on the table. "You know, Jim, buying a first house ranks right up there with death and divorce in terms of stress, according to the experts. It may not be a first for you but it is for him."

Jim shook his head again, unable to grasp the idea of the process of home buying bothering Blair. "I don't see how it can be stressing him. I'm the one who's handling all the details. He says he doesn't even want to be involved in that end of it. He says he doesn't understand it and he doesn't have the time to educate himself, so he just throws up his hands at the whole thing."

Jim picked up his last fry and began chewing it. Then he admitted, "There's lots of things he doesn't seem to want to be involved in. But then he gets mad at me sometimes for 'taking over' things in our lives."  Now that he'd let that out, Jim plowed on. "Just the other day, he had a snit because I bought the wrong kind of milk. Yet, if I let him buy the milk, we'd never have any because he doesn't have time to go to the grocery store."

"Maybe he's working too hard."

"Maybe. He did say he feels left out of things; yet, he insists that he's happy with what he's doing."  Jim shrugged. "I don't know. I can't pin down what's wrong. I don't think he really can either. I don't know how to help him."

Simon looked thoughtful. Then he said, "I remember back when I first got married to Joan, I was scared out of my wits. I had this other person I was expected to support. And then we had a son and I was even more scared. What if I lost my job? What if I failed at providing for my family? Then we bought a house and - ooh," Simon's glance went to the ceiling, "the stress just skyrocketed. All these responsibilities and one hundred percent of the financial burden was on my shoulders. One wrong move at work and I could be fired... I'm not sure I've ever really felt any relief from the burden until recently, since Daryl's on his last semester at the academy."

Jim studied his boss. Simon had always seemed so strong. And, yet, he could understand how, for the average citizen, being the sole breadwinner could be a source of ongoing stress.

"What I'm getting at," Simon said, "is that maybe Blair's feeling an enormous amount of financial pressure. You guys don't have kids, but you're shifting to an upper-middle-class lifestyle, almost completely because of Blair's income. Maybe he's feeling that he's shouldering a hundred percent of the burden and it's scaring the hell of him."

Jim blinked. A hundred percent of the burden?

"What if he fails?"  Simon went on. "What if he can't live up to the expectation that the money is going to keep coming in? It would be bad enough to know that he can't pull it off, but he has the additional worry of letting you down, of financial problems affecting your relationship. He might be feeling stressed out in a way that has nothing to do with work. He might be feeling all alone, that it's all up to him."

Jim wished for another fry to give his fingers something to do. "He should know better than that."

"Maybe he should," Simon agreed. "But what if he doesn't?"

That evening Jim arrived home to the smell of garlic and shrimp. Blair had already told him that he was cooking a full-course meal, since he had the time.  Jim had come to realize that Blair found cooking to be genuinely relaxing, on the rare days when his schedule allowed.

"Good timing," Blair said from where he stood at the stove, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. "Shrimp tempura coming up in two."

"Great," Jim said, noting that the table was already set. After hanging up his jacket, he came up behind Blair and put his arms around his waist. He kissed his cheek.

Blair grinned. "Don't disturb the cook while he's cooking."

Jim released his grip, took a few strands of hair in his fingers, and gently tugged.

"Ouch," Blair said, on cue.

Jim slipped past him to get a beer. As he uncapped it, Blair said, "The house inspector called. He can be out Thursday morning."  He glanced over his shoulder at Jim. "That's when I'm in Spokane. I'd like to be there for the inspection - it sounds interesting - but that would mean pushing it back at least a couple of days. More, if they don't come out on weekends."

Jim squeezed his shoulder. "We'll push it back then. You should be there."  He was glad that Blair seemed interested.

They spent the next few minutes getting the food on the table and then sat down to eat.

The conversation with Simon had been on Jim's mind all afternoon. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that Simon had hit the bulls-eye. Still, Jim found it hard to believe that Blair could feel that their financial well-being was a burden for him to bear alone.

"What's wrong?"

Jim looked up to find Blair looking at him, his plate partially clean. "Nothing."

"You're brooding. What are you brooding about?"

Jim tried a casual shrug. "I just wanted to talk to you about something. Thought it could wait until after dinner."

"I'm full," Blair said pointedly.

Do you mind if I finish my dinner? Jim thought with irritation. What the hell, he was full too. He pushed his plate away.

He perched his elbows on the table and folded his hands. "I want to ask you a question. I want you to answer from the gut, without thinking about it first."

"All right."  Blair sipped his water.

"Do you feel that a hundred percent of the financial aspect of everything going on right now is your responsibility?"

Blair's mouth dropped open but he didn't answer immediately. That very hesitation gave Jim his answer.

A moment later Blair said, "It is my responsibility."  His voice held a hint of anger.

"How do you figure?"

Blair snorted. "It's my money - my income - that's making all this happen. And we're taking on all this financial burden as though it's a given that I'm always going to be making this much."  He swallowed loudly. "If I don't keep making this much," he challenged breathlessly, "what's going to happen?"

Jim gazed at the table, so many thoughts running through his mind that he knew he was going to have to present them in a methodical manner to address them all. First, he said sympathetically, "Pretty scary thought, huh?"

Blair nodded quickly. "Uh-huh. Why? Are you just now realizing that maybe getting such an expensive house - to say nothing of having to furnish it - isn't such a great idea?"

Jim presented a tiny smile. He could think of lots of reasons to be offended by Blair's lack of faith in him, but he knew that wasn't going to move the conversation along in a productive manner.  Plus, there just downright wasn't anything funny about being scared.

"No," he said, "I do think it's a great idea. For starters, the interest on the house will be a badly needed tax deduction. We've already talked about how we need the room. We don't have to get one as expensive as we are, but a lower-priced house will have a lower interest deduction. Plus, as long as we can afford it, I don't see any reason to deny ourselves a nicer house."

"We can afford it right now," Blair emphasized. "Right now has nothing to do with a year from now."

"I've considered all of that," Jim said, reaching for a roll and buttering it. "I've been considering that all along and I thought you were clear on our options."

"What options?"

"Chief, if we get into a bind, it's not like we're against a brick wall and disaster is going to strike. For one thing, I have a lot of equity in the loft. I can pull that equity out, or sell the loft outright, and that would give us some emergency cash. Or, if we're just going through a bad spell that we don't expect to last, we can always borrow from my father to tide us over."

Blair didn't look convinced.

Jim took a bite of the roll. Then he said, "Even if that doesn't get us by and we can't afford the house any longer, all we have to do is sell it. Then we can go back to living more simply. I have no problem with that. I know you wouldn't either."  He looked at Blair squarely, chewing. "So, I don't see how disaster can strike."

Blair's gaze was on the table. "It sounds too easy," he said. "If I actually lost my income - or most of it...."  He slowly shook his head, as though unable to even face the thought.

"It's okay," Jim said softly. He reached to Blair and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm going to be here, regardless. Rain or shine."  He pulled his hand back and asked, with a touch of humor, "You think I only want you for your money? And when your money's gone, I'm going to be gone?"

Blair grinned bashfully and shook his head.

"My feelings for you were never about money before and they certainly aren't about money now."

"I know that, Jim. It's just...."

More gently, Jim said, "It's all right to fail, Chief. You can mess everything up and our lives are still going to come back to being about me and you. We'll just adapt to the circumstances and go on."

Blair suddenly slouched and laid his forehead on the table next to his plate. He released a loud, heavy breath.

Jim didn't know if the gesture was sincere or if Blair was being dramatic for the sake of humor.

Blair wasn't laughing. "I feel so much better," he finally said, without raising his head.

Jim shifted his chair, so he could easily reach over and place his hand on Blair's head. "You should have told me you were this terrified."

"I didn't know how to put the feelings into words."  Blair finally lifted his head. "And I thought it was just a part of the zero-to-seventy thing, my life moving so fast and me feeling left behind."

Jim rubbed Blair's back. "Anything I can do to make you feel more involved?"

Blair straightened and looked at Jim directly. "Yes. I wish you would talk to me about things, like when I'm out of town."

"I do talk to you."

"Yeah, about the cases you're working on and things. I like hearing that, too. But I wish, for example, you'd say, 'Blair, I'm going to pick up some shirts on my way home. Do you need any and what kind do you want?'  Instead of just waiting until I get home and saying, 'I bought some shirts today and, by the way, here's a couple I picked up for you.'"

While Jim tried to distinguish the difference, Blair said, "I know that probably seems stupid to you. But, really, just telling me stuff like that ahead of time would help me feel like I'm participating in us, even if I'm not around."

"Okay," Jim decided, "I can do that. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of, right off hand."

Jim stood, took Blair's hand, and led him to the sofa. He lay back on it and encouraged Blair to lie on top of him.

When they were settled, Jim's fingertips rubbed at Blair's back. "I'm trying really hard here not to be hurt that you seem to see me as a source of stress, rather than as a source of support."

Blair's eyes looked up at him from where his head rested on Jim's chest. "I don't mean to. It's just... all my life, I've shunned the idea of the rat race. Now, all of a sudden, it's like I'm fully meshed in it. Keeping up with the Joneses and all that."

Jim wondered where Blair got this stuff. "Chief, we aren't doing any of this for appearances' sake. We need more room. We need good tax deductions, unless you want a huge chunk of your money going to Uncle Sam. Give me some credit here, huh? I grew up in a house with money. I'm fully aware of how shallow it can be. I don't think I'm in any danger of being caught up in thinking that material things are genuinely important."

Blair turned his head so that his chin was propped on Jim's chest. "I know. I guess I just let myself get sort of freaked out. I've always looked to you to keep me grounded when I freak about something. But now, I spend so much time away from you... well," he lowered his eyes with shame, "I guess I started believing all the fear that was rolling around in my head. I got caught up in it and didn't know how to stop."

Jim placed his other hand on the back of Blair's head and slowly stroked. "Better now?"

Blair nodded, his cheek again against Jim's chest. "Much better."  Then, "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about this before. It's just, I seem to be rushing around so much that I haven't had time to really stop and examine how I feel about anything. I guess I started reacting off-the-cuff and you were the only target."  He paused, then, "Sorry."
  
Jim continued to stroke Blair's hair and back. It seemed like it had been a while since they'd taken the time to have a heart-to-heart about much of anything. "If you would let me show you the financial plan that Takei and I are working on, I think you'd understand that we're making smart choices with the money. If you had a mental picture of where it's going, I think you'd feel more comfortable that there's some checks and balances in place so we don't overspend."  

"That's probably a good idea.  Yeah, let's go through it."  Blair snuggled up closer to Jim, kissing his chin. "But not tonight."  He lay back against Jim for a moment, then he asked, "Are you happy with the way things are going right now?"

"Uh-huh. I don't like that there's so many evenings when I come home to an empty loft. But I don't want you to cut back on your schedule, just for my sake."

"That's why we need a dog," Blair said with a chuckle. "You could be assured of always having somebody very happy to see you."

Jim groaned. Then he said, "What we do need to get, once we're moved in, is a secretary for you."

"Yeah, I guess," Blair said, though he didn't sound enthused.

"You can hire one when you're off for the holidays.  You're still planning on taking those weeks off, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good. If the house purchase goes through smoothly, that's right about the time we should be moving in. So it'll be good for you to be able to spend time at home and settle in."

"Maybe I won't have to be gone so much at the beginning of the year, either," Blair said. "I don't think I've told you that the seminar company wants me to co-write a book."

"Really?"

"Yeah."  Soft chuckle. "It's just a little book that will follow the seminar outline. You know, the circulation will be zilch because only the seminar attendees would even consider buying it. But at least it'll get my foot in the door as a published author of a book. You never know what that could lead to down the line."

"Hey," Jim said proudly, "congratulations."

"Yeah. So, maybe if I start doing more things like that, I won't have to travel so much and actually give so many seminars myself. We'll just have to see."

Jim raised his head and kissed Blair.

That night, their lovemaking was more intense than it had been in a long time.

END PART ONE   

PART TWO

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