TRUTHS THAT WAKE

(c) July 2002 by Charlotte Frost

PART ONE

Although Jim Ellison didn't have children, Simon Banks would have thought his senior detective would be more sympathetic to his situation.

Simon sipped his water while the waitress took their empty lunch plates.  After she moved away he said, "It's just that I need to take a firm stand while I still have some influence over Daryl.  He may be nineteen now, but as long as he's living under my roof he has to conform to our agreement."

The agreement was a touchy issue, Simon had to admit.  After he had been seriously wounded by hitman Karl Zeller a year ago, Daryl had wavered on the police academy idea.  He had already earned a full scholarship to Duke University, which Simon had urged him to take advantage of.  So, off Daryl went to the other side of the country to begin college last fall.  It had been a disaster.  He had flunked out, losing his scholarship, and had been arrested for being one of four stupid young men who had painted graffiti onto the wall of the Astronomy building.  Simon had been furious with Daryl's behavior.

"Is the counseling helping at all?" Jim asked.

Simon sighed wearily.  "It's confidential and he won't talk to me about it, so I don't know.  What I do know is that, as much as he and I aren't exactly getting along, it's even worse between he and his mother."  He took another sip of water, secretly relieved that Daryl was even more at odds with his mother than with him.  "I just wish there was more I could do to help him get himself straightened out."

Jim said, "He's at least got a good job being a forklift operator at the docks."

"Yeah," Simon agreed half-heartedly.  He was more concerned about Daryl academically.  He had agreed that Daryl could stay with him if he found a job and saw a twice-weekly tutor.  If he successfully kept up both activities through the spring and summer, then Simon would pay tuition for a local college in the fall.  
 
Simon had also made Daryl agree that If he got anything less than a C on any of the tutor's tests, he was to spend the subsequent weekend doing nothing but studying.  Since he'd just barely gotten a "D" on the tutor's most recent test, studying was on the agenda for this coming weekend.  Which wasn't sitting too well with Jim, since Sandburg and Daryl had planned on going fishing to celebrate Blair's thirty-first birthday.

Simon reached for the tab.

"I've got it," Jim said, grabbing the check.  He took out his wallet and opened it, then gazed at the empty sleeve.  "Oh.  I was sure I had a twenty."

"That's age," Simon teased, "memory is the first sign."

Jim took out a credit card and waved it at the waitress as she stopped at the next booth over.  He glanced at Simon while putting his wallet away.  "Sandburg must have taken it."  He handed the bill and credit card to the waitress as she walked past.

Simon furrowed his brow.  Jim hadn't sounded the least bit upset.  Incredulously, he asked, "Sandburg takes money out of your wallet?"

Jim shrugged.  "Sometimes."  He finished his soft drink.

"That doesn't bother you?"
        
"Why should it bother me?"
        
Simon was starting to wonder if the Ellison Zone was blending into the Sandburg Zone.  "Jim, that's stealing."

Jim made a face of consternation.  "It isn't stealing.  He knows I don't mind."

"Does he ever pay you back?" Simon asked in disbelief.

Jim shook his head.  "I don't want his money.  He has little enough as it is."
        
That may have been true.  After some finagling with the higher-ups at Rainier and missing last semester to let things cool off, Blair was back in the doctoral program and now writing his thesis on the cultural similarities between police departments and primitive tribes.  Still, Simon found Jim's attitude a bit hard to believe.  "Jim, are you telling me that Sandburg up and takes money out of your wallet, without asking you or even telling you, never pays you back, and you don't mind?"

Jim accepted the little bill tray that the waitress handed him.  He signed the credit card slip and put his card away.  As they stood to leave, Jim asked, "What difference does it make?"

Simon considered that question as he and Jim exited the coffee shop.  He admitted, "I suppose this is really none of my business...."

"Yeees?" Jim prompted as they emerged into the sunshine.  He slapped his baseball cap onto his head.  

Simon's car was a couple of blocks away, as that had been the nearest available parking place at lunch hour.  "Dammit, Jim," Simon said as they walked, "it's tough trying to do the right thing with Daryl.  I have to be an asshole a good part of the time and hope like hell he'll appreciate it some day.  It just doesn't help to know that you play the big brother routine with Sandburg way past what's appropriate.  Because, you know, Blair and Daryl talk.  Blair can fill Daryl's head with all the wrong ideas."

"You think that Sandburg brags to Daryl about taking money out of my wallet?" Jim asked incredulously.  Then, before Simon could answer, "To do that, he'd first have to admit that he doesn't have any money.  I think his pride is a little stronger than that."

Simon restrained a sigh.  There was a saying that one should never come between a man and his wife.  Well, that also appeared to be a good rule when applied to long-term roommates.  Still, Simon found himself reluctant to let the subject go.  
        
"Besides," Jim continued before Simon had a chance to, "it isn't like Blair is sneaky about it.  He used to ask to borrow money and I always gave it to him.  And then he started taking some when he needed it and he would usually tell me about it later.  Now...," he shrugged dismissively, as though the taking-money thing had reached a natural evolution and Sandburg was no longer expected to even mention it.

Simon decided to return to the prior subject.  "I just don't want to be a pushover when Daryl is at an age when he most needs the discipline.  I don't want to waver on enforcing our agreement just because it's inconvenient for him.  If he has to cancel this fishing trip with Sandburg because of doing so poorly on his last test... well, so be it.  He knew the consequences when he made the decision to socialize with his friends instead of studying.  If I start being a pushover, he'll take advantage."

Jim sighed.  "I understand where you're coming from, Simon.  Really, I do."  Suddenly, he grasped Simon's elbow.  "In here," he said conspiratorially, like a kid about to reveal a secret.

Simon found himself in a small shop full of tropical fish aquariums.  "Jim, this is a fish store."

"Yes, I know." Jim grinned delightedly.  He took a few steps down a short aisle, then stopped next to a huge empty fish tank.  The tag said that it was seventy-five gallons and that it could be had, along with the accompanying oak cabinet, for $799.   "What do you think?"

Simon blinked. "What do I think?"  He wondered if he'd missed a few sentences.  "You mean about this?"  He gestured to the empty tank.

Jim nodded, studying the tank proudly.  "Yep."

"Jim, it's an empty fish tank.  What am I supposed to think?"

Jim gestured grandly with his hands.  "Use your imagination.  Think of it as being full of water and colorful fish.  Green plants."

The patty melt Simon had had for lunch was starting to give him heartburn.  His antacid tablets were in his desk.  Gruffly, he asked, "Jim, what did you drag me in here for?"

Jim turned to him.  "Simon, if Daryl can't go fishing with Sandburg this weekend, it's going to screw some things up.  It's Sandburg's birthday and he was paying Daryl an honor by wanting to spend it with him.  Plus, I'm buying him this aquarium and the store is going to deliver it and get it all set up in the loft while Sandburg and Daryl are away."  Now Jim's voice had a hint of pleading.  "It's going to mess everything up if Blair doesn't have anybody to go fishing with and he's at the loft instead."

Simon did not want to back down after already telling Daryl he couldn't go on the fishing trip.  So, he focused on the fish tank, trying to shake the feeling that aliens had taken over the body of his finest detective sometime between breakfast and lunch.  "Jim, what the hell do you want with a fish tank?"

"It's for Blair.  But it would look nice at the loft, don't you think?"

"Looks like a lot of work," Simon muttered.  "Since when does a man like you want to be cleaning up a seventy-five gallon aquarium?"

"I won't be cleaning it," Jim pointed out.  "It'll be Blair's, so he'll be responsible for it."  He grinned wickedly, as though he was getting away with something.  "I'll be able to enjoy it, but I won't have to feed the fish or clean the tank."

"What makes you think Blair is going to want to feed the fish or clean the tank?"

"He'll love it," Jim replied.  "A couple of months ago, we were in a fish store when we were talking to that Henderson character about the jewelry heist.  We got there early and they had these beautiful aquariums set up, and Sandburg went into the whole spiel about how he used to have a roommate with a big aquarium."  His face softened with fondness.  "I could tell that he really wished he had one of his own.  But he didn't even try to ask me if I would be okay with one at the loft."  He shrugged.  "I just figured that if I'm going to get him one, I may as well go all out.  Make it something appropriate for the living room, rather than for just his room."

A man walked by and smiled at Jim.  "Mr. Ellison, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jim said, turning to him.

"We're all set for this weekend," the shopkeeper told him.  "There will be two others helping set up the tank at your apartment."

"Good."  Jim took out his wallet.  "I also wanted to get a gift certificate.  How much do you think it would cost to get accessories for the aquarium and some fish to start out with?"

"A lot," a new voice said.

Simon turned with Jim to face the middle-aged man who had been browsing in the store.  The man said, "When you buy a big aquarium like that, I can guarantee that you'll spend close to that same amount of money the first year, buying accessories and fish. And then more fish to replace the ones that die.  Trust me, no matter how good of a fish keeper you try to be, the mortality rate is going to high in the first year.  It takes a while for the tank to settle and for you to really learn what you're doing."

As far as Simon was concerned, a high mortality rate was good reason to dispense with the idea of an aquarium altogether.

But Jim, after thanking the man, was following the shopkeeper to the cash register with his wallet out.  "I'd like to get a five hundred dollar gift certificate."

Simon turned away, hoping Jim wouldn't hear him release a sigh.  Blair Sandburg -- poor abused, underpaid, and overworked grad student -- was going to get a birthday present that was going to amount to some thirteen hundred dollars.  In the meantime, Daryl was going to spend the weekend studying instead of fishing. Eventually, Daryl would hear about Blair's new aquarium.  Jim would be some sort of big-hearted Santa Claus to both Blair and Daryl, while Simon would be viewed as nothing more than an unsympathetic hard ass.

Life wasn't fair.

Guess I've given that lecture to Daryl often enough.  Simon listened to Jim spell out Sandburg's name for the gift certificate.  Who the hell gets a thirteen hundred dollar gift for their friend's birthday?

Stop it, he scolded himself.

Jim smiled broadly as he put his wallet away and approached Simon.  "I'll get a card later."

Simon was relieved to lead the way out of the store and toward his car.  He wondered what kind of card Jim would get Blair. Whatever it is, he'll probably enclose another five hundred on top of that.  Man, Jim, are you anxious to be somebody's Sugar Daddy or what?

Simon mentally sighed.  That's not fair.  Hell, Jim's probably just lonely.  As lonely as I am.  And since he was only married a short time and doesn't have a kid to raise, he has the money to spend.  I just hope he doesn't think he can buy love from Sandburg.  He shook his head, incredulous at the thought.  The way the kid idolizes Jim and follows him around, looking up at him like he's God's gift to Sandburg, surely even Jim himself can't miss it.  Spending all this money really isn't necessary.

Once they were in the car, seatbelts buckled and driving away from the curb, Jim said, "I'm not trying to tell you how to raise Daryl.  I just wish there was some way you could justify his spending his free time studying any weekend other than this weekend."

Simon felt Jim's eyes on him as the detective continued.  "Maybe you can offer him a choice.  Say, spending just this weekend studying and not going on the trip, or spending two weekends studying but being allowed to go on the trip.  Otherwise, I've got to try to get somebody else to go with Blair and I know Blair really wanted to go with Daryl.  I've already lied through my teeth about why I can't go, even if it is his birthday."

Simon decided to shift the emphasis of his protest.  "Jim, if Blair and Daryl were to go fishing this weekend, what do you think they're going to spend the whole time talking about?"  They were at a stoplight and he looked over at Jim.

Jim shrugged.  "Two handsome young men like them... sex, surely."

"Exactly," Simon said with triumph.  "Our agreement aside, I'm not too keen on Daryl listening to two days' worth of Sex According to Blair Sandburg."

Jim's long legs shifted on the floorboard.  "Come on, Simon.  They're both young.  Daryl probably thinks about sex every moment of every day.  It'll be good for him to talk about it with somebody he's comfortable with and who has a lot of experience."

"That word 'experience' is what scares me," Simon told him.  "The way Sandburg approaches the dating game isn't exactly what I'd consider a prime model of decency."

It wasn't until the silence lasted for more than ten seconds that Simon realized he'd gotten under Jim's skin.

"What do you mean by decency?" Jim asked quietly.  "Sandburg's a decent guy.  You know that.  He would never hurt anyone intentionally."

Simon went for a reasonable tone.  "Jim, just how much do you know about his love life, anyway?  How do you know he's not spreading little Sandburgs -- to say nothing of disease -- throughout the gene pool?  You know as well as I do that children tend to follow in the footsteps of their parents, even when they try like hell not to.  Sandburg is the nineties version of a flower child.  It's not his fault; it's the way he was raised."

Another long silence.  Then Jim said, "You've got him pegged wrong.  Yes, he has sex as frequently as he can -- which really isn't all that much, with his schedule.  But he's responsible.  He may act nonchalant about growing up without a father, but I know it bothers him to have not known who his father was.  He'd never turn around and do that to an innocent child.  If he accidentally got a girl pregnant, running away from the responsibility is the last thing he'd do.  He'd work his ass off to be a model father."  Jim's voice had gotten gruff.

I should have known better, Simon chided himself.  Yes, one should never come between a husband and wife.  And one should never say anything negative about Blair to Jim.  It was a lost cause.

When Jim spoke again he was more relaxed.  "You might be surprised to see how much good it could do for Daryl to talk to somebody like Sandburg.  Blair is very youthful at heart, but he knows more than just about anybody and he's good at communicating what he's trying to say.  He hasn't forgotten what it's like to be a teenager and to have hormones out of control, but he's got the discipline to know when you can act on your whims and when it's time to be responsible.  Blair couldn't have gotten this far in life if he were irresponsible."

Simon was about to speak, but Jim shifted in his seat again.  "He's not your enemy, Simon."

Okay, I deserved that, Simon admitted to himself.  He wasn't sure if he could admit it to Jim.

Simon spent a full stoplight cycle trying to figure out what to say and regretting that he'd ever started this conversation.  Finally, he said, "I'm really not trying to misalign him, Jim.  Hell, I'm fond of the kid, too."  Really, I am.  His mind automatically went to a cave in the mountains of Cascade and a wounded Blair holding his own.  

He decided to come out with the truth.  "Hell, I just feel like a jerk sometimes because I'm not sure if I'm doing right by Daryl.  I can run a police department of two dozen people, making difficult decisions every day.  But I constantly question if the things I say to my son are the right ones.  Or if I'm messing him up for life."

"Daryl loves you, Simon.  He wouldn't be staying with you right now if he thought you were a dumb fuck who hasn't got a clue."

Simon chuckled softly, relieved to be in Jim's good graces again.

Hesitantly, Jim said, "Blair and I have our problems, too.  It seems that, even as well as we get along, we're always sort of questioning what we are to each other.  We started out with him helping me get my senses under control, and me being the subject of his thesis so he could get his doctorate.  Now, we're sort of best friends.  We're sort of older brother, younger brother.  We're sort of partners on the police force.  He's still using me to get his doctorate.  I don't need him like I used to for my senses, but I still feel better about the whole thing with him around."
        
Simon couldn't help but ask the next question that came to mind and he heard the judgment in his voice.  "Is spending thirteen hundred dollars on a birthday gift going to clarify some of those relationship issues, do you think?"

Jim released a heavy breath.  Then he said, "Every time he looks at the aquarium, he'll smile.  Yes, I think it'll help in the sense that it's a symbol that I approve of him."  He glanced over at Simon.  "He always wants my approval.  That was apparent from when we first met.  I think I've shown him time and time again that I approve of him, but he still wants more.  More praise.  More validation." Voice low, he admitted, "When I'm feeling like a prick, I take that need and throw it back in his face.  I hurt him with it."

"It happens to the best of us, Jim," Simon soothed, relieved that Jim realized how hurtful he could be to Blair.  And that Jim had flaws, too.  "The people we love the most are the ones that we hurt the most."

"Yeah," Jim said softly.  Then, gruffly, "Of course, he automatically forgives me.  For anything.  Everything."

"He's not perfect either, you know, Jim."  Simon kept his voice mild.
        
"Damn near," Jim muttered.  "After one of our blow-ups, he'll come crawling right back, doing whatever it takes to please me."  He looked over at Simon.  "How healthy is that?"

"It's human," Simon declared.  "For both of you."  They'd turned into the police garage and Simon took a moment to park the car. When he turned off the motor, he said, "Look, Jim. We all do what we need to do.  Sometimes we make the wrong choices.  But all we can do is go on.  Blair doesn't strike me as the kind of man who's going to look back and regret.  You shouldn't either."

Jim unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door.  "Neither should you, Simon."    

"Hey, Chief," Jim greeted when he and Simon entered the bullpen.  "I thought you weren't going to make it in this afternoon."

Blair looked up from Jim's desk.  "A power line got cut by some maintenance workers in the building where I have class, so they had to dismiss all the classes."  He nodded at Simon, who was standing beside Jim, then said, "Hey, Jim, I meant to tell you that I took that twenty out of your wallet this morning."

Though he wasn't bothered by it, Jim couldn't resist a little teasing.  He rolled his eyes.  "A bit late for the warning there, pal."  He glanced at Simon -- wanting to say See? -- but he grinned instead.  "Nothing quite like taking the boss out to lunch and finding out that your wallet is empty."   

Simon moved on toward his office, shaking his head.

"Oh.  Sorry," Blair said, looking contrite.  "I needed to put some gas in my car and my credit card is maxed."

Jim only nodded, not wanting Blair to feel bad about it.  He moved to his seat.  "Hey, Chief," he said in a lower voice.

"Yeah?"

"I think your weekend with Daryl is in jeopardy."

Blair frowned.  "Why?"

Jim glanced toward Simon's office.  He felt guilty that he hadn't been more supportive of his friend's concerns about Daryl, but it was just too important to have Blair out of the loft this weekend.  "He's in the doghouse with Simon for almost flunking the last test the tutor gave.  They had an agreement that if he ever got below a C, he'd have to devote a full weekend to studying."

Blair rolled his eyes.  "He's nineteen.  He's an adult and should be able to do whatever he wants."

Jim held up a hand.  "Hold on there, Junior.  Nineteen hardly qualifies as being fully cooked.  If he wants to be treated like a man, then he has to act like a man and that includes keeping his agreements.  Besides, that stunt he pulled in North Carolina was about ten steps backwards into the adolescent behavior department."  

"Yeah," Blair relented.  Then, sarcastically, "Never mind that he's had to see his old man get shot three times in a few years' span -- the last time the most serious.  Lo and behold, Daryl's been feeling a little confused and unstable.  You know, he wanted to hang closer to Simon after Zeller because he was worried about him, but -- nooo -- Simon had to go pushing him out the door to North Carolina.  Big surprise that it turned out to be a disaster."  Blair shook his head in disbelief.

Jim grimaced.  It was bad enough that Blair and Simon didn't see eye-to-eye on most things, but having Daryl between them didn't bode well for improved relations.  In fact, their mutual respect seemed to have disintegrated somewhat, due to both having different ideas on what was right for Daryl.  Blair turning down a badge probably also had something to do with their cooled relationship.

Subdued, Blair asked, "Can't Simon have him do the studying the weekend after?"

"I think Simon is going for the full punishment effect and specifically wants it to be this weekend.  I've been trying to talk him into letting Daryl go.  It is for your birthday, after all."

"Man," Blair grimaced, "that would be a real drag if Daryl can't go.  He seemed really excited when I last talked to him."  

"Yeah," Jim commiserated while trying to think of a solution.  He brightened. "You know what might help?"  He felt soft all over when Blair eagerly leaned closer to hear his advice.  "Maybe you can talk to Simon and convince him that part of what you and Daryl will talk about is how important it is that Daryl listen to his old man, because Simon only wants what's best for him."

Blair considered.  "Guess it couldn't hurt," he muttered, standing.  Then he said, "If you hear screaming and yelling, you'll know it wasn't a good idea."  He moved off.

Jim chuckled.

Simon was cleaning the kitchen counter late Sunday afternoon when Jim's pickup pulled up.  It took him a moment to remind himself that Jim's pickup was absent Jim.  As a birthday concession, Jim had allowed Blair to take it on his and Daryl's little weekend fishing trip.

Simon tried to summon his sternness.  Against his better judgment, he'd finally relented and allowed Daryl to go on the trip, in exchange for studying two full weekends instead of one.  Still, he felt some resentment that others were trying to tell him how to raise his son, even as he rationalized that it was his own fault for sharing his parental dilemmas with his friends.

Daryl and Blair were out of the truck now and moving to the back to grab Daryl's fishing and camping gear.  They were both smiling, but looking pretty beat.  Good.  Daryl hopefully wouldn't have the energy to argue about the injustice of being shut in two weekends instead of one, now that the fishing trip was over -- never mind that he'd agreed to it in the first place.

Simon greeted them at the door, squinting from the setting sun.  "Hey, what a surprise, you made it back in one piece," he said, wondering why he felt the inclination to dig at Sandburg's driving abilities.  He stepped back to allow them in.   "Did you have a good time?"  

"Yeah, Dad, it was great," Daryl said with mild enthusiasm.

Simon detected the reluctance to elaborate in his son's tone.  Daryl never wanted to go into much detail with either of his parents.

"It was fantastic!" Blair beamed as he moved over the threshold.  "Thanks for letting him come.  It made my birthday really special."

Wait until you see what Jim has waiting for you at the loft, Simon thought.  Hell, nobody deserved a birthday this special.  What had Sandburg done to deserve it?

Simon said, "I'm glad you had a good time.  Catch anything?"

Blair was placing the fishing gear in one corner of the living room.  "Yep.  Enough for dinner last night."  He chuckled.  "Well, at least enough when supplemented with some beans.  We even threw some back this morning, because we didn't want to bother bringing them home."

"They were little anyway," Daryl admitted.

Simon placed his hands on his hips.  It looked like the last of Daryl's gear.  "I've got meatloaf in the oven.  You're welcome to stay for dinner, Blair."

Blair sniffed the air.  "Smells great.  But I think I need to get back to see how Jim's managed without me."  They all laughed.  "He's probably close to blowing a gasket, worried that I've done something to his truck."

I doubt he's thought much about the truck this weekend, Simon thought, imagining a group of fish store employees filling the huge aquarium with water at the loft, while Jim hovered protectively.

Blair held up his hand to Daryl.  "Well, my man, this is probably the last time I'll see you for a while."  Daryl held up his own hand and they high-fived each other.  "Don't give your old man a hard time about the two weekends.  You asked for it and you made the choice."

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl said irritably.

Blair grinned and moved toward the door.  "See you, Simon."

Jim sat on the sofa, the TV off, and studied the aquarium.  It had gravel and rocks but was otherwise very bare.  There were only eight fish, all less than two inches, in the huge tank. The fish store had emphasized repeatedly that new aquariums were very fragile the first six months and one had to be careful to not add too many fish too soon.

Jim heard the pickup pull up in the parking lot.  He listened as familiar footsteps made their way to the elevator, and then the elevator making its way up to the third floor.  Jim's eyes went to the tank again.  On the corner he'd taped an envelope that said "Blair" on it.  He couldn't remember what the card said; just something that looked silly and amusing.  The gift certificate was inside.

He'd moved the furniture around so that the sofas were directly opposite each other.  One could still see the TV from either sofa, but opposite the TV, against the wall where the stereo arrangement had been -- which was now in another corner -- was the aquarium. So, sitting on either sofa, one could watch the TV, or look in the opposite direction and watch the fish.  

The front door swung open.  "Hey, Jim, " Blair called, but he didn't look up as he pulled an armload of gear and supplies into the loft.

Jim decided to remain on the couch and not help.  But he did greet, "Hey, Chief.  How'd it go?"

"Great!" Blair said, still getting all the equipment inside.  Finally, he pulled the door shut.  He tossed his keys into the basket, then wrestled out of his coat.

He turned.  His eyes widened at the new furniture arrangement.  Then they went to the aquarium.

Jim grinned.

"What's this?" Blair asked, slowly coming forward.

"What does it look like?" Jim teased.

"A tropical fish aquarium?" Blair moved behind the nearest sofa, approaching the tank.  "It has fish in it."

Jim restrained a chuckle.  "Well... yeah.  Fish are probably a good idea for a tropical fish aquarium."

Blair abruptly straightened when he spotted the card.  "This is for me?"

Jim wasn't sure if Blair meant the card or the tank or both.  He said, "Does a fish aquarium seem like something I'd buy for myself?"

Blair laughed and lifted the envelope from where it was taped to the glass.  He opened it.  Then he was laughing some more as he read the card.

Jim remembered writing something like, Darwin, When you need to take a chill pill, maybe a serene fish tank will help.  Just don't zone on the fish.  Jim.

Blair looked at the gift certificate and sobered.  "Five hundred dollars?" he asked Jim. His eyes flicked to the aquarium.  "So, this is to pay for the aquarium?"

Jim scowled.  "No, goofball.  You think I'd get you a gift and then give you a gift certificate to pay for it?  How tacky do you think I am?"

Blair shrugged, showing he didn't "get it".

"The aquarium is yours," Jim said more gently.  "Happy birthday.  The gift certificate is yours, too.  The aquarium is looking pretty bare right now, so you can spend the gift certificate on snazzing it up.  Only, don't buy too many fish or plants at once, the guy at the store said.  The gift certificate is good for a year."

Blair's eyes widened as he looked back and forth between the tank and the piece of paper in his hand.  Then his face split into a huge, delighted grin.  "Wow!  This is incredible, Jim!  Man!"

Jim felt himself grow stern to combat the excitement coming his way.  "Yeah, well, just understand that even though I'm agreeable to having it in the living room, it's yours and you're responsible for all the feeding and cleaning and whatever else aquariums need. You'd better make sure it doesn't become an eyesore instead of a pleasant part of the décor."

Blair was nodding his head, still grinning.  "Yeah, yeah."  He bent and eyed the inhabitants.  "The tough part is resisting putting too many fish in at once.  But the roommate I had always told me how important it was that the nitrate cycle be complete before you can add more than a few fish.  Even then, you've got to be careful about doing it gradually.  We can at least get some artificial plants and other decorations, for now."  He straightened and grinned at Jim.  "This is gonna be great!"

Jim moved from the sofa, the presentation over.  He went into the kitchen.  "You and Daryl had a good time?"

Blair followed him, more subdued now.  "Yeah, it was a fun time.  But, man, he really does have a lot of anger right now.  I think he's directing most of it at Simon, though from what I can tell, he's just mad at the world in general."

Jim opened the refrigerator and pulled out a little round cake with white icing and a bottle of champagne.  "It's the normal teenage stuff, isn't it?" he asked, worried on Simon's behalf.

"Yeah, I think so."  Blair brightened at the cake on the counter.  "Man, Jim, you really went all out."

Jim shrugged, wanting to play it down.  "There's not candles or any of that."

Blair chuckled.  "Are you going to sing Happy Birthday to me?"

Jim pulled out champagne glasses and saucers.  "Definitely not."

"Thanks, Jim," Blair said fervently.

"Did Daryl get you anything?" Jim asked as he cut the little cake.

"A couple of flies for my fishing rod.  One of them worked really good.  We caught a couple yesterday for dinner.  This morning, we were still catching some little ones, but letting them go."

"He had a good time, you think?"

Blair nodded vigorously while Jim placed cake slices onto saucers.  "Yeah, we both did.  We fished and talked.  Talked about a lot of things, in fact."

"That's good."  Jim took out the corkscrew.  "Do you think he and Simon are going to be okay?"  He worked with the bottle.  "I know Simon worries that he's not a perfect father a hundred percent of the time."

Blair was thoughtful.  "Yeah.  The important thing is that Daryl thinks the world of Simon, even though he spends a lot of time being mad at him.  You know," he said as Jim popped the cork, "he feels that Simon is too involved in work to really be there for him, and then he resents being disciplined by him because he feels that Simon doesn't understand where he's coming from, doesn't really know anything about him."

"That's not true," Jim said firmly, pouring them each a glass, even as he was aware that he had a lot of similar feelings about his own father -- even now.

"Yeah," Blair agreed quietly.

Though the subdued tone concerned him, Jim handed Blair a glass and smiled.  "Happy birthday, Chief.  May there be many more."  He touched his own glass to Blair's, then reached out his other hand and ruffled Blair's hair.

"Thanks," Blair smiled back.  He sipped from his glass.

They both stood at the counter, taking bites from their cake.  Jim said, "You sound concerned about Daryl."

Blair shook his head.  "It's not really that."  He paused a moment.  "I've just been remembering how angry I was when I was his age, maybe a little younger."  He glanced up at Jim.  "But it wasn't over the same kinds of things."

"Oh?" Jim said.  He found it interesting how he and Blair had lived together for four years now, talked about so many different things, but they could still come across subjects that they'd never discussed with each other before.

Blair took a long sip of champagne, then set down his glass.  "Yeah, I went through a phase when I was really mad at Naomi," he admitted, his eyes on the cake.  "I was angry at her for never trying to find out who my father was.  You know, for sleeping around so much that she didn't know.  For being so stoned so much of the time that she had no chance of trying to think back and figure it out, once she found out she was pregnant.  For being so selfish that she thought she was all that was supposed to matter to me.  And for convincing herself that I'd never wonder where fifty percent of my genes came from."

"But you got over it?" Jim asked doubtfully, for Sandburg's words hadn't sounded like the wound had healed.

Blair shrugged, looking up.  "I eventually came to peace with it.  But, you know, it still pops up every once in a while."  He flicked away a few cake crumbs with the backs of his fingers.  "Sometimes when I least expect it."

"Like this weekend?" Jim guessed.

Blair ducked his head bashfully.  "Yeah, I guess."  He glanced at Jim.  "But I know there's nothing I can do about it.  All the wishful thinking in the world isn't going to change the fact that I'll never know.  Just like my father will never know about me."

Jim couldn't help but notice that Blair had the words down pat.  

"Besides," Blair went on, cutting himself another slice of cake, "I look at you and Daryl -- both of you so different from each other -- and yet you both have a lot of anger about your dads.  Daryl's is pretty normal teenage stuff, I think.  But you," he glanced up and Jim could detect a note of accusation in his voice, "you have a father.  But you really don't want much to do with him, even though you've supposedly patched things up.  I mean, what's the point of having a father if you're just going to push him away?"

Jim tried not to flinch.

Blair quickly amended, "Not that you don't have good reason.  But when it gets down to it, no dads are perfect.  And maybe no one should ever expect them to be." He paused.  "Me, at least I had Naomi.  I mean, I had a better mother than the vast majority of kids. So, I was better off than most kids, even the ones who had both parents."  He shoved a forkful of cake into his mouth.

Gently, Jim said, "It still bothers you though, doesn't it?"  He couldn't be mad about Blair's words regarding his own father.  How else could he expect Blair to feel?

Blair swallowed, then met Jim's eye.  "Every once in a great while, I feel this overwhelming need to know.  Even though I know it's impossible for me to ever know."  

Jim filled their glasses with more champagne.  Then he turned toward the living room.  "So, you trying to tell me that you and Daryl were out in the wilderness for two days and you never talked about girls or sex?"  He sat down on the love seat, his eyes automatically going to the aquarium.

"Says who?" Blair responded with a chuckle.  "We talked about sex a lot."  He sat on the sofa across from Jim.  "I'm talking sex-sex," he added.  "The real nitty gritty.  Daryl had lots of questions.  I'm glad he felt he could talk to me."  His voice lowered.  "He hasn't done the Big Nasty yet."

Jim sighed with disapproval.  "That's what you kids call it today?  The Big Nasty?"

Blair shrugged.  "Daryl uses that term, because Simon uses it."

"I don't suppose," Jim ventured, "that you pointed out to him that women usually prefer more romantic terms."

"Sure I did," Blair said. "But I also had to talk to Daryl on his own level.  I wasn't there to lecture him."  He paused.  "I think he appreciated it."  He gazed at the fish tank a long moment.  "What kind of fish are those?"

Jim was glad that Blair's focus was back on his gift.  "Zebra something or other."

"Dainos," Blair said.  "I think they're called Zebra Dainos."

"That's it," Jim remembered.  "The guy at the fish store said they were hardy."
        
"They're probably pretty happy, having all that room to themselves.  They probably came from a small, crowded tank."

Jim nodded.  "Yep.  It was pretty crowded."

Blair laughed, glancing at Jim while sipping his champagne.  "Man, Jim, this is cool.  It must have cost a fortune."

Jim shrugged, not knowing what to say to that.  He wasn't embarrassed about spending a lot of money on Sandburg, but nor did he want to belabor the point.

"Who says birthdays are just for kids," Blair chattered on.  "This is the best I've ever had."

You're not too far removed, Jim thought fondly.  

"Do you think those bubblers are going to bother you?"

"Not at all," Jim replied.  "They're sort of soothing, in fact.  I'd much rather sleep to that than to traffic outside the window."

"You had the tank here last night?"

Jim nodded.  "They set it up yesterday.  The water was cloudy at first and it took a while for it to get filtered out.  This afternoon I went down to the store and picked up the fish."

Blair's eyes suddenly lit up as he turned on the sofa to face Jim.  "That's why you were so anxious for me and Daryl to go camping together!  You devil!"

Jim chuckled.  "Guilty."

"You must have been thinking about this back when I was telling you about my roommate who had an aquarium, when we were in that fish store that time."

"Actually," Jim said, "the idea to get it for your birthday didn't occur to me until a few weeks ago.  But, yeah, I remembered you speaking so wistfully about your roommate's aquarium."
        
"Man, Jim," Blair said, gaze on the tank, "this is the best birthday gift I've ever had.  I mean, just the aquarium.  But the gift certificate on top of it."

Jim didn't reply.  Yeah, Simon thought it was a bit over the top.

"You need to find a woman to spend your money on, man."
        
He knew Blair didn't really mean that.  "Fine, Junior.  I'll take it back and spend the money on a woman instead."

Blair laughed.  It was a loose laugh, like he was feeling the champagne.

The phone rang and Jim went to pick it up.  "Ellison."

"Jim," a familiar female voice said.  "Is my birthday boy there?"

"Yes, he is, Naomi."  Jim held the phone out to Blair, who took it.

"Hey, Mom," Blair greeted, "you've got to see what Jim got me for my birthday!"

While the conversation between mother and son continued, Jim went into the kitchen and began cleaning up.  He was glad that Blair was so enthusiastic about the aquarium -- that had been the point, after all -- but he also felt a heaviness in his heart.  Blair emphasized to his mother that the tank was big -- inferring it had cost a lot -- and also mentioned a "generous" gift certificate, without specifying how much.  But the message underlying his voice was clear:  Jim must really like me a lot because he spent a lot of money on me.

Yes, Chief, Jim thought sadly as he put away the remainder of the cake, I like you a lot.  I just wish you didn't need me to keep proving to you that you're worth it.  Maybe if I was better with words....

Well, if Blair's biggest flaw was that he needed to have it stated -- continuously -- that he was liked and loved and needed, that was something Jim could live with.  Had lived with.  Human beings could have far worse flaws.  

He knew that for fact, because he himself had many.

Blair's bubbling enthusiasm about the gift continued into the next morning, when he didn't have to be at Rainier until noon.

Later in the day, Simon shook his head after calling Jim into his office.  "The word is out about what a big softie you are about birthdays," he teased, the hint of disapproval still underlining his voice.  "Sandburg was bragging to everyone all morning about what a big tropical fish aquarium you got him for his birthday -- and a generous gift certificate.  Your reputation as a hard-ass is severely tarnished."

Jim shrugged nonchalantly.  "It made him happy.  What's the harm?"

Simon sat down and changed the subject.  "Did Sandburg tell you what he and Daryl talked about?" he asked gruffly.

"Not in any specific detail."
        
"Well, Daryl's walking around with his nose in the air like he's all of a sudden the world's greatest expert on sex."

Jim laughed softly.  "Really, Simon, what did you expect?  My guess is that if he's like most teenage boys, he was probably acting like he knew all about sex anyway.  If he's gotten any enlightenment from Sandburg, well, it can't hurt to really know some things to support the bragging."

"Maybe so, but I can't help but think that he's itching to put all his great 'knowledge' to work.  Dammit, if he dare gets a girl pregnant...."

"I can assure you, without knowing details, that Sandburg would have gone through the gauntlet of safe sex with Daryl -- two or three times over."   

Simon merely grunted.

"At least Daryl is more informed than he was before the weekend," Jim assured.  "It's not like you can stop him from getting older, Simon.  Sex and serious girlfriends and all the baggage that comes with it is inevitable at his age."

"Yeah, I guess," Simon muttered.

A few afternoons later, Jim's cell phone rang as he sat at his desk.

"Ellison," he answered.
        
"Uh... Jim."

"What's up, Chief?"

"Uh... you by chance aren't needed on a stakeout tonight, are you?"

Jim rolled his eyes, managing to hold back a sigh.  "What's her name?" he asked indulgently.

"Teresa.  She lives with six roommates and doesn't have her own bedroom.  We've, you know, met in the cafeteria and stuff a few times to talk.  Let's just say the vibes are pretty strong that she's waiting for me to take our relationship to a new level.  She was real interested in seeing the aquarium, when I told her about it."

Jim shook his head, even as he agreed, "All right, Romeo.  I'll labor all night on paperwork if there aren't any fun stakeouts to go to."

Blair vowed, "I owe you, Jim.  Big-time."

"I intend to collect.  Big-time."

"Uh... yeah.  Right."

Jim grinned at Blair's hesitation.  Jim usually forgot to collect on his favors.  But he was serious when he said, "Just make sure there's no evidence anywhere of what you two have been doing.  My senses don't want to know."  

"Right."  The connection ended.

Jim put away his phone as Henri walked into the bullpen.  "Hey, Brown, could you and Rafe use some company tonight on that Martinez stakeout?"

"It's been pulled," Henri replied.  "Martinez took a plane out of town.  What's up?"

Jim sighed pitifully.  "Sandburg expects to get lucky and I'm not allowed in my own home tonight."

"Man, Jim," Brown chuckled delightedly, "you are one understanding dude.  You ought to show up anyway.  You know, sneak in. Listen in.  Do some recording.  Get enough evidence to last as blackmail material for the next five years."  He laughed again.  "If Sandburg doesn't ever do what you say, just tell him you you'll show his naked, humping white ass to the rest of us."

Jim waved a hand dismissively and turned away.  Sometimes he couldn't believe the juvenile behavior that was so prevalent in grown men.

Jim released a heavy sigh as he looked at the clock.  It was going on midnight and his eyes were tired from staring at the computer so much. He wondered if there was some other way he could occupy his time between now and dawn, besides doing paperwork that he was thoroughly bored with.

His cell phone rang, startling him.  It took a moment before he was able to retrieve it from his pocket and push the correct button. "Ellison."

"Hey, Jim, it's okay if you're ready to come home."

Blair sounded upbeat, but in a way that seemed forced.  "What happened?"

"I don't know."  Bashful laugh.  "Maybe she didn't like the aquarium." 
        
Yeah, right.  "I think Wonder Burger is open after midnight now, so I'm going to grab something from the drive thru.  Want anything?"

"Uh, sure.  The chicken sandwich without that dressing crap."

"Fries?"

"Nah."

"Okay.  I should be there in twenty."

"Thanks, Jim."

Jim furrowed his brow as he put away the phone and turned off the computer.  Why would Sandburg be thanking him?  Jim was thankful that the all-nighter at the station he'd agreed to was cut short.   And since Jim was going to stop for a midnight snack anyway, it wasn't as if he were putting himself out to pick up something for Blair.

He supposed Blair was thanking him for coming right home and eating with him.  Blair sounded a little down, as could be expected, but also like he was trying not to be.  Jim wondered why Teresa hadn't wanted to stay.  Or, maybe, she and Blair had already done the deed and she didn't want to spend the night?  No, Blair would have sounded happy if he'd managed to get laid.

Jim was so busy contemplating his partner that he accidentally ate his burger while driving home.  Still, he had the fries to eat while sitting down at the table with Sandburg.  He poured them out on a plate, applied a huge helping of catsup at the corner and took satisfaction in seeing Blair share them while eating his chicken burger.

Jim waited a polite five minutes.  Then he asked, "So, what happened?"

Blair shrugged with exaggeration.  "Don't know."

He seemed honestly baffled.  Jim scooped up more catsup with a fry.  "Did you two even make it back here?"

Blair licked his fingers, having demolished the sandwich.  "Uh-huh.  Everything seemed to be going great.  She liked the aquarium. We talked. Started making out on the couch.  Then we went to my room and made out some more.  Everything was fine.  Then when I got serious about undressing her, she suddenly pulled a, 'This isn't a good idea.'"  He grimaced.  "Women.  Sometimes I think they are a completely different species."

"That's it?" Jim asked when Blair fell silent.  Granted, he'd had his share of puzzling  experiences with women.

"Yeah, " Blair said with a snort.  "I dunno.  Maybe she was having an unexpected time of the month or something."  He sighed pitifully.  "Whatever."  He took the last, wilted fry and put it into his mouth.

"Sorry, buddy."

"Yeah, well, at least you didn't have to stay out all night."

Jim stood and stretched, making his way toward the staircase.  He noticed that the aquarium had a new addition.  "Hey, you got a sunken ship." The ship was broken into two different pieces and they moved up and down, as though the current of the water was shifting them, when the motion was really propelled by a bubbler.  The aquarium was gradually taking on some color, since Blair had used up some of his gift certificate for artificial plants, colorful rocks, and just yesterday acquired a few more fish.

"Yeah," Blair said as he came beside Jim to study the tank.  "I picked it up on the way home.  Thought it was cool.  But I found one of the Zebra Dainos belly up.  So, he got a memorial service over the toilet bowl."

"Too bad.  Could you tell what he died of?"

"No.  I got a book on diseases, but I couldn't find any symptoms.  With it being such a new aquarium, I don't think we need to be worried that there's a problem."

After a moment, Blair's arm moved around Jim's waist and squeezed.  It made Jim feel warm inside, but also puzzled.  "What's that for?"

Blair grinned up at him.  "I never thanked you properly before.  This is just such a cool gift.  One that keeps on giving."

Jim patted Blair's shoulder, then turned toward the sofas.  "Yeah, well, don't get carried away with my generosity.  Truth is, I enjoy it, too, but since it's your aquarium, I don't have to do any of the work."  He sat on the couch, debating about whether he could go up to bed, or if Blair still needed him around to talk.

Blair laughed as if he knew better than to believe that.  He flipped up the lid on the aquarium, pushed his sleeve up, and put his arm into the water, shifting one of the artificial plants.  Then he removed his arm and wiped it on his pants leg.  "Jim?"

Jim's gaze switched from the aquarium to his roommate.

Blair sat on the couch across from Jim.  He gnawed his lip, then looked up hesitantly.  "You know, I only have one more semester after the summer.  Then I get my doctorate."

Jim didn't want to get into this tonight.  He hedged, "Yeah, well, I'm sure you've told me that at some point."  He tried to keep the wariness out of his voice.

Blair was hunched forward, looking uncomfortable.  "We've got to start thinking about the future, man."

"We?" Jim asked pointedly.

"All right, me," Blair relented.  "It would just... help, you know, if I knew where you stood."

Jim couldn't resist that pleading tone.  "I don't want to hold you back."  He pushed off the couch and went to the kitchen.

"I know," Blair said quickly.  "But just telling me what you want isn't holding me back.  If anything, it might free me -- in terms of examining my options.  You know, some things I think are options might not really be options.  And vice versa."

Jim pulled a beer from the refrigerator and twisted off the cap.  He took a large gulp, then came back to the living room.  "What do you want, Chief?"

Blair snorted and pushed at his hair.  "That's just it:  I don't know.  I've been in school my entire adult life and now that I'm finally on the verge of getting my doctorate, it's like... I don't know what I want to do when I grow up."

"You used to know," Jim said, sitting across from Blair.

Blair was thoughtful again.  "Jim, my whole plan was about being in Anthropology; but you know, out in the field.  In some ways, I way surpassed that, because you've been an ongoing field study, man.  And then so much more than a field study.  But now, it's like I'll have this doctorate in Anthropology and... what am I supposed to do with it?"  He paused for breath.  "Even if Simon is able to get me a paid job with the Department, it's not going to pay anywhere near as much as something I could probably get in my field of study.  So, it's like:  what did I even go through all this schooling for?  Yet, if I were to get some job somewhere for, say, a hundred grand a year, what good is that if Ihate it?"

Jim resolved to be helpful, practical and objective.  "Maybe what you're really saying is that you want to go back out in the field, go on expeditions and that sort of thing."

But Blair was shaking his head.  Then he stopped and looked at Jim squarely.  "That's what I originally envisioned.  But now," his gaze lowered, "now... I really think I'd like to settle down."  He glanced around the loft.  "I've liked having a home."

That made Jim feel good.  "You're welcome to stay here.  In school or out.  Working for the Cascade PD or with a hundred thousand dollar a year job."

Blair rubbed at his forehead.  "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."  He glanced up at Jim. "Tonight aside, it's kind of awkward... you know."  Blair's voice softened.  "I know you've taken dates to hotel rooms before."

Maybe twice, Jim thought, not surprised that Blair knew that, though Jim had never said anything.  Though he was willing to do it for Blair, he couldn't bring himself to ask Blair to get lost for an entire night so Jim could get laid.

"Anyway," Blair said, elbows on his knees, gaze on the floor, "you gotta figure that some day one of us is going to want to get serious with somebody.  And then the other is going to be in the way."

"Anyone I know?" Jim teased, wanting to ease the mood.  He took another large swallow of his beer.

"It'll happen to you before it does to me, Jim.  Even though you've always been a loner, you're the type of guy who needs someone in his life to give himself to."

Jim wasn't sure where Blair came up with that, but he wasn't in the mood to argue.  Instead, he asked, "And you're not?"

"Haven't you heard?" Blair asked.  He laid his head back against the sofa so he could stare at the ceiling.  "I just go for the shallow, so nobody can ever get their hooks in me."  

"That self-deprecation routine doesn't work on me.  I can see right through it."

Blair let that go by.  It was a moment before he straightened and spoke again.  "If I get serious about looking for a real job, I might have to take one in another city -- far enough away where it wouldn't make sense to live in Cascade."

"I would miss you," Jim said nobly, "but I would be happy for you, if it was a good job and it allowed you to have a good life."

Blair bounced his head against the back of the sofa.  "You know, you could make this a whole lot easier if you'd just tell me you couldn't live without me and that you couldn't care less about me wasting my degree or how little I made, but that you needed me to be a permanent observer or consultant or something to the Department."

It was hard not to be touched by the words, but Jim held firm.  "Oh, no, you don't. I tried to run your career once before and I'm not going to do it again."  He'd really thought getting Blair a badge was what was best for him.  But Blair had eventually come to the conclusion that it was a gift he couldn't accept.  So, back to school he went, with a new thesis subject and still a couple more semesters to complete before he could get his doctoral degree.  Jim gentled his voice.  "This is about you, Junior.  Not about me. You're going to have to make your own decisions here."

Blair straightened and looked at the aquarium.  After a long moment, he looked back at Jim.  "You got me an aquarium.  One this large... it's not exactly the kind of thing that you get with the intention of ever moving it.  That means you want me to stay."

Jim had to smile at the careful manipulation.  His voice came out soft and amused.  "It means I wanted to do something nice for you because you've been such a good pal."

Blair grunted.  "Hmph.  I've never been somebody's 'pal' before.  It sounds like I'm a dog or something."

"Have it your way," Jim said in an 'I give up' tone.  He got up and moved a few steps to hold out his beer to Sandburg.  "Finish it.  I'm going to bed."

He turned away and started up the stairs.  His grin widened when he heard, "Jim, it's empty!"

"Anything else on your mind?" Simon asked when Jim was still sitting before his desk after receiving his newest assignment.

"Sandburg is going to graduate for good next fall."

Simon's eyebrows shot up.  He didn't like where this was headed.  "Uh-huh?"

Jim looked as though he expected Simon to know what he was going to say.

Simon knew, but he wasn't sure why Jim was bringing this up without Sandburg in the room; or why Sandburg didn't bring it up himself.  "I'm listening," he said with exaggerated patience, reaching for a cigar.

"I just thought it might not hurt to start dropping hints with the higher-ups that maybe a new position could be created for him."

Just like that.  Simon shook his head.  Jim knew better.  "I already put myself out trying to clear his way for an abridged set of classes at the academy after the Zeller mess.  It was his choice to turn it down.  I don't see why I -- or the higher-ups -- should bend over backwards for him now."

"Simon, he's valuable.  And I think he does want to work in the Department.  It's just - "

"Fine," Simon interrupted with spread hands.  "Let him put his butt through the academy like everyone else and he can work for the Department.  I haven't got a problem with that."

Jim grimaced.  "Come on, Simon.  You know he's not your everyday police material.  His value is in helping me be a better cop.  He has insight into cases, with his background.  He's a genuine asset."

Simon frowned, already tired of the pleading tone.  "You know damn well that what you just said is the crux of the problem.  I talk the Chief and the Mayor into creating some sort of, say, consultant position and that, right there, guarantees that Sandburg won't be able to tail after you.  He'd have to be a consultant to the entire Department, rather than to you personally."  Playing his trump card, he muttered, "Unless you want to come clean about your sentinel abilities."  He looked up, feeling an outside bit of hope.  "Then, you know, we could make a case that you don't function as well without him and that the increase in your abilities alone would be worth Sandburg's salary."

Jim looked out the window, shaking his head.  "That's not an option."

"I thought so."  Frankly, Simon would just as soon get it out in the open.  It would make his life a lot easier.  Granted, he understood the reason for secrecy from the standpoint of not letting the criminals know that Ellison had an edge; yet, he had gradually become convinced that making Jim's abilities public would be the lesser of two evils.  But Jim was having none of it.

Jim was still sitting there, looking out the window.

"You know, Jim," Simon said in a friendlier manner, "maybe what the kid needs is to go out and find a real job."

"He's thinking along those lines," Jim said softly, turning to look at Simon, "and that's what I'm afraid of."

"You seem to be handling this sentinel stuff pretty well on your own," Simon pointed out.

Jim's gaze was back on the window -- or what was beyond it.  "I'm not talking about that," he said quietly.  "I'm talking about having a partner I've actually been able to work with for four years now."  Long pause.  "I don't just mean on the job.  He's made my life... richer."

Of course.  Sandburg walked on water, as far as Jim was concerned.  It was long past time for Sandburg to grow up.  Maybe Ellison needed to grow up, too.  Simon stood and took his lighter from the corner of his desk.  "What's that phrase that Sandburg uses? 'Detach with love?'"
 
"I'm already doing that," Jim admitted.  "I'm doing everything I can to not try to direct his future.  But he doesn't know what he wants when he gets out of school.  At least if there was a job for him here, he'd have that option to consider."

Simon sorted.  "Meaning, if I bust my ass -- again -- trying to get him a position, there's no guarantee that he won't reject it the second time around."  He lit his cigar.  "I'm not doing that, Jim.  I'm not going to put a lot of energy and effort into trying to convince the Chief he needs to invent a new position to support a doctorate's salary -- and make the person in that position available to only one detective -- and then, after all of that, have Sandburg turn it down anyway."

Jim's gaze was still on the window.  More gently, Simon said, "Maybe settling down and having a regular life is the best thing for him, Jim.  How many years has he been in college?  Ten?  Twelve?"

"Closer to fifteen," Jim admitted, "less a semester here or there and leave of absences to go on expeditions, or to recover from injuries he got tailing after me."

Simon had to shake his head again at the absurdity of it.  "Jim, I'm sorry, but I just can't take pity on Blair's position.  If he's had the benefit of this many years of schooling, he ought to be able to go out and get himself a damn decent job.  Live a hell of a better lifestyle than either you or I or Daryl will ever be able to look forward to.  I wouldn't think you'd want to stand in the way of that."  His voice quieted, as he was surprised at his own frankness.  "I know you'll miss him.  Hell, I'll miss him.  This whole department will miss him.  But when loved ones have an opportunity to move on to better things, the least we can do is support them and wish the best for them."  He thought he should add, "Best for them -- not what's best for ourselves."

Abruptly, Jim was out of the chair, heading for the door.  "Those things aren't always mutually exclusive, Simon."

The door shut -- sharply.

Simon puffed on the cigar, shaking his head.  Fifteen years of school.  Thirteen hundred dollar gifts from a lonely Sugar Daddy. Damn, Sandburg, you've got it made, haven't you, kid?

He couldn't deny his own stab of jealousy.  For Daryl's sake.  And for his own.

"Tell me about when you were married."

Jim blinked as he emptied the milk carton into a glass.  He laughed self-consciously as he glanced at Blair, who sat at the table munching a tuna fish sandwich.  "Why?  You've never asked me that before.  At least, not so bluntly."

Blair considered that with eyes lowered.  Then he looked up again.  "Let's just say that, because my future is so uncertain, I'm going through a phase where I'm over-romanticizing the idea of settling down."

Well, that was honest.  Jim took his milk and his own sandwich to the table and sat down.  "Actually, that's the mistake I made: over-romanticizing the idea of settling down."  Really, he thought that about covered it.

"How long did you and Carolyn date?"

Jim snorted, embarrassed at the memory.  "Six or seven months.  Not nearly long enough."  As he thought back, the memories came more easily.  "I think we both were over-eager to hurry up and settle down and try to be 'normal'.  We married for all the wrong reasons."

"You didn't love her?"

"I thought I did.  But...," he shrugged while biting into his sandwich.  He'd never really known if he'd been in love or not.  He wasn't sure how one defined it.  After chewing, he admitted, "I tend to think that if I'd really loved her, we would have been able to work things out.  In retrospect, it seems we both gave up rather easily."

"You aren't sorry though, right?"

Despite all the questions, Blair's voice was gentle and compassionate, and Jim felt compelled to respond to his young companion's curiosity.  He admitted, "I was an idiot.  I really thought that, just by going through the ceremony and saying the vows, it would somehow magically make things okay.  And I thought that since we both worked at the PD, we would understand each other's jobs."

After a long silence, Blair prodded, "But it didn't help?"

"Well," Jim said, thinking back, "we never really had problems with our jobs.  She never complained about me being gone too many hours or anything like that.  I also think that it was good for her, you know, that she had a fairly high level job.  It gave her a lot of satisfaction."

"So," Blair prompted after another silence, "if being cops wasn't a problem for you, what was?"

Did Blair really not remember?  Jim chided, "Come on, you know the answer to that as well as I do."

"Intimacy?"

Jim chewed, nodding even as his stomach churned at the memory.  He couldn't help but notice how Blair was studying him, as though anxious to read every fleeting glimpse of expression that Jim might offer.

"She told me you had problems with intimacy," Blair said factually.

Jim shrugged.  "What can I say?"

"You aren't going to offer any defense?"

Jim felt his jaw tighten with ancient hurt.  "How can I?"  How many more questions was Blair going to need to have answered?

Blair gazed at the tabletop for a long time.  When he looked up, he asked, "Do you think the problems you two had were all your fault?"

"They may as well have been.  Does it matter?"

Blair considered that.  Then he said, "It's just that, usually, people who get divorced are very angry and hurt about the whole subject. There's accusations on both sides.  But in all these years I've known you, I've never heard you say a single word against Carolyn. Rationally, one would have to think that there was failure on both sides for a relationship to fall apart."

His sandwich gone, except for the part of it that was still lodged somewhere in his esophagus, Jim stretched out his legs and sat back with his arms crossed.  "I guess I just considered all the other stuff to be innocuous details."  His jaw tightened again.  "She complained most about intimacy.  I can hardly deny that I have a problem with expressing my feelings."

Doubtfully, Blair asked, "She was open with her feelings?  Caring and warm and loving and compassionate?"

Jim tilted his head, intrigued by the questions.  Then he remembered, "Actually, no.  She wasn't that kind of woman.  That was one of the reasons I thought we'd make a good match.  Neither of us was overtly physical.  We were both sort of... reserved. Independent.  No nonsense."

Speaking carefully, Blair said, "To me, it sounds like she had just as much of a problem with intimacy as you did.  Only, she wanted intimacy from you -- even though, from what I can tell, she had no right to expect it.  She knew what kind of man you were.  But she must have thought that saying the vows was going to somehow change you into the type of man she really wanted and needed."

Jim blinked, shaking his head.  This was too much.  All these years after the divorce, somebody was actually taking his side.  For the first time.  Was it possible that it really wasn't one hundred percent his fault?
        
He closed his eyes.

A hand rested on top of his.  "Jim, I'm sorry.  I didn't think talking about this would get to you, or I would never have brought it up. You've always seemed so okay about the subject of Carolyn."  The hand squeezed.  "Let's change the subject.  My class tomorrow was cancelled, so I'll get to be at the station all day.  What'll we be working on?"

Jim pushed to his feet.  He picked up his saucer, then turned toward the kitchen.  "It's not that I mind talking about it," he said.  "You just gave me a perspective that I hadn't considered before."

Blair turned in his chair.  "That's probably because you're always so willing to take responsibility for everything that happens around you.  You're so accustomed to feeling guilt that you don't even know how not to."

"So sue me," Jim said flippantly, feeling an enormous weight gone from his shoulders.

"For what?  Not being perfect?"

Jim took Blair's dishes and spared a moment to pat him on the head.  "Yeah.  For being responsible.  Guilt-ridden.  Fear-based."

Blair grinned.  "But you don't have a problem with intimacy.  Not that I can see anyway.  There's a difference between having a problem with it and choosing not to give your inner self to somebody else when you don't trust them.  Sometimes there's good reason not to trust."

Jim poured water on the dishes.  His shoulders felt lighter still.

Blair sighed.  "Anyway, I guess this discussion has warned me against looking at the idea of settling down with rose-colored glasses."

Jim put away the leftover tuna.  "Settling down doesn't have to refer to marriage.  It doesn't even have to refer to a relationship.  It's just having a settled lifestyle."

"One where the future seems to be known," Blair said thoughtfully.  "That's what appeals to me.  Even though I know we can never know what's around the next corner, I really do wish I had some idea of where I'm going to be five years from now.  Or even just one year from now."

Jim wiped the table.  "The whole world is your backyard, Chief.  Don't short-change your potential because you're afraid you won't like what's ahead."

Blair put his foot up on the chair and rested his chin on his knee.

How nice it must be to have such a compact body that you can do that, Jim marveled.  It was hardly the first time it had crossed his mind.

Without moving his head, Blair's eyes followed him back to the kitchen.  "Jim?  Do you think it would do any good for me to talk to Simon about there being any possible place for me?  Or for me to perhaps even speak to the higher-ups?"

Jim washed his hands under the faucet.  "The problem is that, even if you talk somebody into letting you have a job in a not-a-cop position, whatever that position is, it's not going to allow you to ride with me exclusively.  You're only riding with me now because we've always gotten them to swallow that you've needed to stick with me for your thesis.  We aren't going to have that excuse once you graduate.  So, how is the city going to justify paying you a decent salary, while letting you spend all your time being partnered with me?  You've got to admit, from their end, it doesn't make any sense."

"I guess I could go to the academy," Blair said, obviously not enthused.

"And make forty grand a year, tops," Jim pointed out.  "I bet some of your student loans are higher than that.  You deserve better."

Blair put his leg down and turned to rest his elbows on the table, chin in his hands.  

Jim joined him at the table, sipping a beer.  

Blair said, "Let's say I get a job as a curator or something at the Cascade Historical Museum.  Say it pays a nice, decent eighty thousand a year.  I can still live here."  He looked up at Jim.  "And I'd be bored out of my skull.  The biggest thrill I'd get is when some new artifact shipped in from some far-away place."

Jim grimaced with sympathy.

Using his fingertip, Blair traced an imaginary pattern on the tabletop.  "It's weird about school.  You spend all those years learning, learning, learning.  But it's really a very closed, sheltered environment."  He glanced at Jim.  "I've learned a hundred times more about people and real life by riding with you.  That's why I've never been interested in teaching by itself.  You're taking sterile information and feeding it to kids who are going to process it as sterile information."  He shook his head.  "Learning doesn't really mean anything unless you can apply it to something real."

Jim didn't know what to say, how to help.  He had no idea what the next year was going to bring, either.

Blair's mouth corner twitched, as though trying to smile.  "I keep telling myself that it's okay if my dreams have changed since I started school.  That it's okay that I've invested this much time and borrowed money in pursuing my doctorate, when getting my doctorate doesn't really mean that much anymore. Yet," he shrugged, "I'm this close.  I might as well get that degree so I can put those three letters after my name."     

"What do you dream about?" Jim wondered.

Blair thought a moment, then laughed.  "Having a stable life."

"No, really, long-term.  What do you dream about?"

Blair thought again, then nodded.  "Really.  Having a stable life."  He glanced around the loft.  "Keeping this."  He met Jim's eye just long enough to say, "Having somebody who gives a shit to come home to."  He slowly shook his head as he gazed off to one side. "I've never had that before.  Ever."  He nodded again, as though affirming it to himself.  "As much as it might send Naomi running away screaming, I want to settle down and feel that there's some place in the world -- some space that doesn't necessarily have physical boundaries -- that's my very own."  He looked away.  "A family, I guess."  

Jim was glad that Blair could admit that -- use that word.  Especially since he never would have had the balls to.

Blair pushed away from the table and went to the refrigerator.

Jim followed and placed his hand on Blair's shoulder, squeezing as he felt the muscles flex while Blair reached for a beer.  "Listen," he said, while Blair stood there letting the door drift shut.  "Why don't you plan on staying here?  You can start putting out feelers for possible jobs, before and after graduating.  But until something comes along, why worry about it?  We can deal with it when the time comes.  In the meantime, you can keep riding with me and things will be as they've always been.  Maybe you can even teach part-time to have at least some income.  You'll have six months before your student loans start coming due, right?  Longer if you're unemployed?"

Blair nodded.  "I think so."

"So, there won't be any immediate urgency to find a job."  Pleased with himself for being so logical, Jim stepped back.

Blair looked up at him.  "You don't think Simon will pull my ride-along pass the minute I graduate?  After all, I won't have the excuse of the thesis as the reason for riding along."

"Simon won't," Jim said firmly, knowing it was true even if Simon might complain.  "It'll probably be months before any higher-ups realize that you seem to be working forever on your thesis."

Blair returned Jim's grin.  

One morning a few days later, Jim put a second cup on the counter, next to his own, since he'd heard Blair's mattress shift.  He poured the coffee.

Blair staggered out to the table, wearing his blue robe.  He pushed his hair back as he sat down.  "Ah, man," he groaned.

Usually, Blair preferred to shower before he sat down at the table.  Obviously, he didn't have any classes early this morning.  "What's that all about?" Jim asked as he handed him a cup.

Blair blew on the coffee.  He shook his head as Jim joined him.  "Man, Jim," he said wearily, "I had the most bizarre dream last night."

Sandburg was usually quite big on sharing his dreams.  But Jim had never seen him look so... troubled... before.  "Oh?" he prompted as he sipped his own coffee.

Blair looked up at him, his expression similar to that of a man with a hangover, or a bad head cold.  "You're going to laugh at me, but I'm going to tell you anyway.  It really wasn't funny."

Jim waited, still sipping.

"It's like I was at this farm.  You know, somewhere out in the country.  And it's like I was this -- this stud.  I'm not kidding.  A human stallion. Or bull."

"Uh-huuh?" Jim encouraged dubiously, focusing on his cup.  Did he really want to hear this?

"So, these women were being brought to me to breed.  All day long.  And, man, it's like I hated it.  That's all I did all day.  Breed women."  He looked up and met Jim's eye.

Jim couldn't help it.  He looked away, feeling embarrassed.  "Sandburg - " he began warningly.

"No, really.  It wasn't one of those dreams.  There was nothing the least bit arousing about it.  It was more like a nightmare. Horrifying.  Man, all I felt was this weird despair.  It's like that's all my life had been and that's all it was ever going to be.  I remember, at one point, I looked out at the rolling hills of the countryside and I was thinking I could never go there - go out there.  I was, like, tied to some sort of fence post.  And then they were bringing me another woman to breed."  His brow furrowed.  "The dream didn't have any details about the actual breeding.  I just know I did it.  Then she was led away.  And then a few minutes later, another one was brought."

Jim watched Blair stare at his coffee.  He said, "Sounds to me like your past is catching up to you.  Maybe you're starting to realize there's more to life than just sex."

Blair rolled his eyes.  "I do know that, Jim, thank you very much for that profound analysis."

Jim chuckled.

Blair's mouth twisted in thought.  Then he said, "Man, I'm not even sure when the last time was that I had sex."

Automatically, Jim's mind went to the task.  After a long moment, he thought he'd found a memory.  "Mary Ellen."

Blair put a finger to his lip.  "Oh, yeah, right.  Mary Ellen."  His brow furrowed in thought.  "Man, she had to be at least six weeks ago. At least."  He looked up, eyes much more alert now.  "It's not like I'm having an unusual amount of sex these days.  Heck, I don't even think about sex that much anymore.  So, it's not like the dream could have been some sort of... moral reprimand."

Jim swallowed the last of his coffee.   He stood and took his cup to the sink.  As he rinsed it out, he wondered how Sandburg could be so disturbed by something so harmless.

"Man," Blair said, as though answering, "that was the most depressing dream I've ever had.  I just wanted my life to be over."  He gazed at the far wall.  "Because I knew my life was never going to change.  I felt so... empty.  I remember thinking that I was probably going to live another thirty years or so and that seemed so unbearable."  He visibly shuddered.

Anxious to change the subject, Jim cheerfully said, "Now you're awake and you're fine.  It's just a dream, Chief."

When Jim came back around the table, Blair looked up at him.  "When a dream is that vivid, it means something

Jim needed to get to work, but he was curious about what Blair was thinking.  He leaned back against the kitchen island and crossed his arms.  "So, what do you think it means?"  

"I don't know," Blair muttered.  "I'll have to think about it a while."  

Jim nudged Blair's shoulder, then turned toward the door.  "I've got to get going.  Later."

"Have a good day," Blair mumbled after him.

Jim wished Sandburg hadn't told him about the dream.  He had a boring day, mainly tracking down cross-references on suspects on the computer.  The back of his mind couldn't get the image out of his head of constantly breeding women, like some sort of livestock stud, and not even getting a wet dream out of the experience.  But instead, feeling such a sense of despair that one could wake up feeling outright depressed that their life had consisted of nothing except constant sex.

Constant sex equals despair.  He wondered what the human male population would think of that idea.  The only thing he himself knew for certain was that he was unlikely to ever test the theory.  Few would, for that matter.  Blair had probably come as close as anybody during the more carefree days of his life.

Carefree no more, Jim pondered as he frowned at yet another search criterion that didn't bring up any of the suspects he hadn't already tagged.  One more semester after the summer and then he's officially out of school and ready to take on the world with all his acquired knowledge.

He was just as eager as Blair to know where they would both be a year from now.  And afraid of the possible answers.  At least, there was the summer to look forward to.  Blair would be teaching one class, but otherwise he could spend all his time with Jim.
 
 

END PART ONE   

PART TWO

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