As Blair walked blearily from the room, he was met by Jim Ellison's smiling face.

"You want breakfast?" the big cop asked.

Blair summoned a smile, "Yeah, thanks," he said slipping into a chair, "When can I get my clothes?"

"I'll get one of the uniforms to pick them up today, then bring them to the precinct. I'll bring them back for you later."

"What do I do until then?" Blair asked, "I gotta work."

Jim glanced over at the younger man, "Best I can do, sorry. I don't want the uniform bringing them here, and leading whoever found you last time, to you."

Blair smiled to himself, "So it has nothing to do with keeping me off the streets?" he said with a slight grin.

Jim shot him a startled look, "No," he replied shortly.

Blair gave a laugh, "Okay man, I believe you," he sniggered.

"Look, Blair. What you do for a living is none of my business but I won't pretend I like it," Jim said tight-lipped.

"What? You don't like the profession as a whole, or just me doing it?" Blair studied Jim's face carefully.

"Like I said," Jim repeated, "What you do is your business."

Giving in to a deep, almost satisfied sigh, Blair smiled at the older man, "It's okay, I guess I can take a day off. I'll just have to 'come' a little quicker tomorrow. Fit a few extras in," he teased. Seeing Jim's jaw tighten Blair laughed out loud. "I'm just teasing, man. Why does it bug you so much, what I do?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Jim shot a glance his way, then turned his back, "Because I think you're capable of so much more," he muttered.

"Like what?"

"Have you ever tried to be anything else?" Jim asked tersely.

"Yeah, I toyed with the idea of being a super-model, you know, money, fame, and you get to fuck anything you want? But I was too short for the catwalk, and I enjoyed the casting couch too much!" Blair laughed.

"I'm serious," Jim replied coldly.

Blair's smile slipped away, "Yeah, man, I know you are." He regarded the big cop with a degree of puzzlement. It really seemed to hit a sore spot each time they got around to discussing Blair's 'work'. Like Jim was really 'upset' at seeing Blair sell his body.

"I have to go. The fridge is stocked, just take what you want and make yourself at home," Jim said a little awkwardly.

Blair smiled. Getting up from the table, he moved forward, and touched Jim's arm, the action caused the older man to turn. Blair reached up, and kissed him gently on the cheek, "Thank you," he whispered.

Jim's face flushed red, he just nodded, and grabbed his jacket, "I'll be back later," he grunted as he slammed the door.

Blair stared at the door for a moment. He had wrapped his arms around himself tightly. In his deepest, darkest dreams, he could imagine those arms being Jim's, so strong, and all encompassing. He imagined how safe he could feel wrapped in that embrace. Just another pipe dream, but it gave him a warm feeling that was enough to satisfy him for now.



"You have him where?" Simon Banks gasped.

"At the loft. Simon, someone found him at the motel, he was almost killed. The murderer probably wants him dead; he probably thinks that Blair knows something. I didn't know what else to do," Jim sighed.

Simon ran his hand across his face, "Jim, do you know what a risk you're taking? On several levels?" he asked.

"Like what? I'm just trying to protect a witness," Jim replied with annoyance.

"You're a cop giving house room to a whore for starters."

"Oh," Jim raged suddenly, "So because he's a whore it's okay to let him get killed? Sorry Simon, I thought when we took the oath 'to protect and serve' it meant everyone? So it only applies to accountants, and advertising execs? Upstanding American citizens, huh?"

"Jim!" Simon Banks growled, "You know damn well that's not what I mean. Don't you dare twist my words that way!"

Jim sat down heavily in the chair, "Sorry," he muttered.

"You are a police officer, and a damn good one. I don't want to see you in hot water because some street kid decides to cry 'rape' one night just for kicks."

"Blair wouldn't do that," Jim protested.

"How do you know? Jim, you don't know this kid. He's a street hustler, and from what I've heard from vice, a damn 'busy' one. You have a reputation to think about." Simon Banks watched his detective's expression with amazement, "Maybe you should try reasoning with your brain on this one?"

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Jim exploded.

"It means: that I've never seen you get so 'emotionally' involved with a witness before, especially a witness like this one. What *is* it with this kid, Jim? "

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Simon sighed deeply, "The hell you don't, Ellison," he said with a shake of the head, "Just tread carefully. Don't do anything stupid, especially while he's still officially a witness."

Jim gave an un-amused laugh, "In other words, keep my pants zipped until the case is over? Wow, Simon, thanks for the support. It's nice to know what you really think of me," he pushed himself from the chair angrily, "But, no matter what I am not going to let Blair get killed just to satisfy your bigotry!" he swung open the door, and stormed from the office.

Simon Banks watched him go, "Great stuff, Banks," he muttered, "Well, we have the shit, just gotta wait for the fan to arrive."



"Oh hi, is that you Sean?" Blair said into the telephone, "Yeah, this is Blair. Could I make an appointment to come get tested again?" he listened intently to the reply. "Great, tomorrow it is. Thanks man, I appreciate it."

Sighing, Blair tried to busy himself, but there was so little to do in Jim's pristine home. There was nothing out of place, no mess. In fact there was little sign that it was a home at all.

As he wandered into the bathroom, Blair spotted the laundry basket. Flipping it open, he smiled. He would do Jim's laundry. At least it would be something to do for the cop who had showed him such kindness.

The whole concept had at first seemed unreal, cops, and whores weren't civilized with each other. But Jim was different; he actually seemed to recognize the human being beneath the hustler.

Blair sighed, "Sandburg, you pitiful bastard. You're developing emotional ties to a fucking cop!" he said with a sneer, "Of all the people you could have picked. You pick a tight-assed cop. But, shit, he gets your motor running doesn't he?" Looking up, he studied himself in the mirror, "How can you find a fucking *cop* attractive, huh?" he gasped at his reflection, "How sad are you?"

Turning away, he scooped the dirty laundry out of the basket. Almost as an unconscious reaction, he brought the clothing up to his face, and took a deep breath. The smell of Jim Ellison almost overwhelmed him.

He closed his eyes, and let it swim through his system.

In his mind he could see the big cop standing before him, reaching out to caress his face with those huge, powerful hands that turn so tender as they glide down his skin like silk.

"Fuck!" Blair exclaimed jerking back to reality, "What kind of a pervert would he think you were, if he came in right now, and found you sniffing his dirty underwear?"

He bundled the laundry into a bag, and tucking Jim's too large sweatshirt into his too large sweatpants, he grabbed the spare set of keys he'd seen lying in the basket, just inside the door, and headed for the laundry-mat.




Sitting watching Jim Ellison's boxer shorts go around, and around, had a strangely hypnotic effect on Blair. He found himself voluntarily smiling, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd done *that.*  Suddenly he was grabbed from behind.

"Where you been you little fuck? I've been looking for you," Magnus snarled.

"I've been in police custody, I'm a protected witness," Blair snapped back defiantly.

"So a 'protected witness' is out doing his dirty laundry? You lazy little shit, you're trying to get out of working."

"No. I *am* a witness, they don't know I've slipped out," Blair insisted, "I'm staying with one of the cops."

"Oh, he paying for services rendered?"

"It's not like that. He's just protecting me."

Magnus pulled Blair in close, "Well you'd better *make* it like that, and earn your keep while you're there, pretty baby. Because I'm going to be waiting for my money, and I really don't give a fuck how you get it!"

"Okay…I'll get it," Blair pleaded, "I've got to get back before he knows I'm gone."

"Just don't forget what you are; a whore. You'll never be anything else, you're lower than scum. You hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you."

"Good," the big man pushed Blair back onto the bench, "I'll be waiting."



So, can you get anything from that?" Jim asked irritably.

The technician glared, "Yes, Detective. But you know full well, that these things take time. I'll get the clothing scraped, and the blood sample sent down, but it's still going to be a while."

"And all this time we have a serial killer, playing us like fools!" Jim ranted, "That could be his blood."

"I'll get right on it, Detective Ellison. I promise we'll make it priority."

Jim sighed, "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I'm a little stressed out today," he managed a weak smile.

"I know, I think the whole department is over this case," the young man said sympathetically, "I'll get right on it."





Blair walked back into the loft apartment at 852 Prospect nervously. He didn't want to even think about 'hooking' Jim but if Magnus didn't get his money Blair would be just as dead as Mark. Oh, Magnus wouldn't go to all the trouble of slicing him up. Oh no, he'd just beat him to death.

Opening the door he let himself in to Jim's apartment. The laundry was done, and he was feeling a little less guilty about living off Jim while he was here.

He wandered over to the fridge, and helped himself to a can of beer. Slumping down in front of the TV, he let himself relax into the cushions.

It was nice to relax and feel safe for a change. But, it wasn't the place, it was Jim that really made him feel safe.

'Everything would be perfect if I wasn't what I am and he just wanted me,' Blair thought with a sad sigh, 'I wonder how badly he'd freak if I slipped into his bed?' He laughed suddenly, imagining that stony face aghast at the touch of another man.

He was fairly sure that Jim was attracted to men as well as women, and in another reality could, possibly, at a push, be interested in *him.* But he'd given up the Disney version of life at an early age. Those things only happened in sappy movies, and gut churning love stories.

"Love?" Blair said aloud and angrily, "What a crock of shit!"

His musings were disturbed by a knock at the door. 'Maybe Jim sent the cop around with clothes after all?' he thought as bounced from the sofa.

Swinging open the door, he stopped in his tracks.

"Sean? What you doing here?" he gasped.

"Sorry, Blair. The clinic double booked for tomorrow, mind if we sort you out a fresh appointment for your HIV test?" the tall, elegant young man smiled.

"No, come on in," Blair stepped back and let the other man enter. As Sean stopped at the table, putting down the file, Blair pulled up short.

"How did you know where I was?" Blair asked.

"You gave me the address when you called," Sean set free a wide smile.

Blair shook his head, "No I didn't. I never mentioned where I was staying. So how did you know where I was?" he asked again.

A dark, and fearful beast uncoiled itself in Blair's stomach. "Tell me how you knew, Sean," he demanded.

"Hey, Blair. Come on, you know me. Chill out," the tall young man smiled wider.

Blair stared for a moment before a devastating thought hit him, "Yeah, Mark knew you too, didn't he?"

"Sure he did. I was sorry to hear about him, he was a nice kid. He deserved a better life," Sean said turning, and flipping open the file.

"The…the guy I'm staying with. He's a cop. He'll be home soon. Maybe we could do this tomorrow at the clinic?" Blair said trying to appear unruffled, but his stomach rolled dangerously.

"It won't take long, Blair. Anyway, Detective Ellison is busy over on Portland, chasing that elusive serial killer," Sean's smiling face turned to grip Blair in an icy stare, "I think he'll be a while yet."

Blair felt the chill run down his spine. It suddenly all made sense. One of the only people that Mark would have let into the apartment was Sean, if he'd taken the trouble to bring the HIV test results around.

Beginning to back to the door slowly, Blair inexorably stared death in the face. Swallowing hard he spoke, "You killed Mark, didn't you Sean? And all the others?"

The tall man grinned, "You know, for a whore you're very bright, and perceptive Blair," he said, "In a way, I'll be sorry to kill you. You could have been so much more. You've wasted your life, and that's a sin, a mortal sin. You've wasted the gifts that God gave you, to sell your body to the highest bidder. You *have* to be punished, it's the only way to save your immortal soul."

"What kind of a fucking lunatic are you?" Blair gasped, "You're blaming *God* for the fact that you get off on killing *boys*?"

"It has nothing to do with sex. I do not associate with my own gender that way," Sean growled. For the first time anger glinted in his eyes.

"Bullshit! I'll bet you jerk your dick when you're carving them up, don't you? You sad, pathetic, fucking fag!" Blair raged, "Don't give yourself airs, and graces about why you do this. You do it because it gets you hard to 'punish' young boys, eh? Or maybe you only fuck 'em when they're dead?"

Sean rushed at Blair, he lashed out catching the smaller man squarely on the jaw, sending him sprawling. Standing over Blair's prone body, he glared down at him with barely contained rage.

"You should try being nice to me, Blair. I might not hurt you too much."

Blair laughed humorlessly, "Don't do me any favors you fucking little queer, jerk off bastard!"

Sean struck Blair in the ribs with his boot, "Show some respect!" he spat.

"Fuck you!" Blair almost sang out. He forced out a painful smile, "You're going to kill me anyway, I'll be damned if I'll stroke your ego while you're doing it, you fucking freak!"

Suddenly, from nowhere, Sean produced a knife. He advanced on Blair, who pulled himself along the floor frantically.

Grabbing Blair's leg, Sean dragged him back into his grasp. Blair kicked, and twisted, once sending Sean flying backwards into the wall. This only seemed to enrage the other man further; he lashed out, and caught Blair on the arm with the tip of the knife. The blood welled up in the wound, slowly spilling out to drip onto the floor. Blair tried to climb to his feet, but Sean was on him.

"Say goodbye, Blair. God will forgive you," he said with frightening calm.

"Yeah, but will he forgive you?" Blair replied with a sudden serenity. Almost as though his impending death had melted away the fear he jutted his chin, and stared Sean down with a defiant glare. "How's he going to see you on judgment day, Sean? Isn't murder a sin? Don't you go to hell for that?"

"This isn't murder!" Sean hissed, "It's deliverance." Suddenly, he lunged with the knife.

Blair felt the hot sharp pain as the metal slid into his body. It was the oddest feeling as though he was standing beside himself watching it all happen. It took a few moments before the pain hit like a sickening blow to his chest.

He glanced down, to see the knife buried to the hilt in his upper body. He attempted to take a gasp of air, but the pain caused him to cry out.

As he felt blackness filling his mind, the only thing on his lips was a name……"JIM!" his voice seemed to echo through the building as the darkness closed in.



Jim Ellison had experienced this odd feeling all day. He couldn't give it a name, nor pinpoint what it was he was so edgy about, but whatever it was it was gnawing at his gut like a dog with a bone.

"Simon, I'm on my way back in, the tip off was a dead end. I'm just going to drop by the loft check on Blair," he said as he sat at the stop sign on the corner of Prospect.

"You want me to put you up for maternity leave?" Simon Banks teased lightly.

"Very funny, I just want to check that he hasn't skipped with the silverware," Jim said trying not to appear so concerned over the younger mans well-being.

"Yeah, Jim. I believe you."

Suddenly, Jim 'felt' Blair's scream. He reached out with his sensitive hearing, and heard the remnants of the plea. Hitting the gas with all the strength he had, he sped towards his home, pulling up with a screech outside the building.

"Blair!" he yelled as he pounded up the stairs, gun drawn. He hurled himself at the door, splintering the frame, and rushed into the room. He saw a figure leap from the balcony. Racing across the living room floor he tried to peer into the street, but he couldn't see anyone moving quickly, or darting into shadows.

Turning back into the apartment he glanced around desperately until he spotted Blair on the kitchen floor. The young man was covered with blood. A silver handled knife jutted from his ribcage.

Running across, and dropping to his knees he held Blair's head gently, "Blair, I'm here. Don't worry," he said softly. He flipped open his cell-phone, and quickly dialed. "Yeah, this is Detective Ellison. I need an ambulance at 852 Prospect, apartment 307, top floor. And hurry, he's losing a lot of blood." 

Shutting off the phone he gently lifted Blair's head to rest on his knee.

"Blair, can you hear me?" he asked.

The young mans eyelids flickered, "J…im," he struggled as the pain tore at him.

"It's okay, don't try to speak. Ambulance is on its way. You're going to be fine," he stroked the dark curls from Blair's face tenderly, "I'll stay with you. I'll be here," he took Blair's hand in his, and gripped it tightly.

"Pr..omise?" Blair asked, his blue eyes opening, and straining to see clearly.

"I promise." Jim watched as the young man slid into unconsciousness. He could hear Blair's heartbeat slowing, "Don't you leave me Blair, you hang in there, understand?" he said with a fear suddenly gripping his throat, "Don't you go!"

What felt like hours, but was in reality only minutes later, the EMT team rushed in through the door.

"Detective Ellison?" a short stocky man asked, "What happened?"

"What the fuck do you think happened?" Jim raged, "He has a knife in his chest!"

"Sorry, Sir. We have to ask about the circumstances. Did he have a blow to the head, or any neck trauma?"

"I don't know. I burst in here as the assailant leaped through my window. I just found him here….like this," Jim bit of the words as he felt his stomach roll and his eyes begin to sting.

"Are you his next of kin?" the medic asked.

Jim blinked, "What? Well, I'm his friend. I don't know if he has any next of kin," he replied, "I want to come with him to the hospital."

"I guess that's alright, detective."

After stabilizing Blair, they loaded him on a gurney, and started down the stairs. Jim followed, flipping open the cell phone and punching in Simon Banks' number.

"Simon? Blair has been attacked. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that it's our guy. He took a dive off my balcony as I came through the door. I couldn't pursue because Blair was bleeding too badly. I'm on my way to the hospital with him now. Can you send a team over here to check out my place? Thanks," Jim closed the telephone, and continued after the medics.




Sitting in the hospital corridor, Jim felt so helpless. They had rushed Blair to the operating room immediately, and though he knew that he could do nothing, he felt he had to be there. He'd promised.

"Jim?" Simon Banks' voice said suddenly beside him.

Looking up Jim half-smiled, "Simon. Find anything at the loft?"

"The guys are still going over it with a fine tooth comb. Any ideas how the guy found him?"

Jim shook his head. He'd been thinking about that himself, "No. We're the only people who knew where he was."

"You're sure he didn't tell anyone? Or conduct any 'business'?" Simon said awkwardly.

"No!" Jim said forcefully, "He wasn't 'working' from my home, Simon. Blair wouldn't do that, he promised me."

"Okay, did he call any friends to tell them he was safe?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone should check my phone records for today," Jim visibly deflated, slumping back against the wall, "Shit! I told him I'd take care of him."

"Don't start blaming yourself, Jim. You did everything possible. He'll be okay," Simon squeezed Jim's shoulder tightly, "You really are fond of this kid, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, " Jim replied. He turned his head to face his friend, "I am."

Simon nodded, part of what it took to be a friend was not judging another persons decisions, but merely accepting what they did, and being there to catch them should they fall, "I'll get back, and see how things are going. Keep me informed?"

"Sure. I want to wait around for Blair to regain consciousness, see if he remembers anything. Maybe he knew the guy?" Jim said with a sigh, wishing he felt as positive as he was sounding.


Jim had paced the corridor for the umpteenth time, when he saw a doctor approach.

"Detective Ellison?" The young woman said.


"You brought Mr Sandburg in?"

"Yes, how is he?" Jim asked somewhat irritably.

"Have you managed to reach his next of kin?" she insisted.

"No, Doctor," Jim took a breath, "Doctor, he was in my care when he was attacked. I am the investigating officer on a murder case, and Blair Sandburg was the next intended victim. He is also my friend, and I don't know if he has any family. So please, will you tell me how he is?"

The woman smiled, "Yes, Detective. Sorry. He has been very lucky, the knife sliced into a lung, but the damage wasn't too severe. His rib deflected the blade from piercing his heart by a fraction of an inch. He's lost a lot of blood, which we've replaced, and he's likely to be unconscious for a few hours yet. But over all, I'd say that this young man definitely has an angel on his shoulder," she grinned.

Jim returned the smile, "Maybe a fallen angel," he joked, "Can I see him?"

"Certainly, but as I said, it could be a while before he's conscious."



Blair could feel something touching his hand. It was a strange, far away feeling, like he was standing in a doorway sensing the things happening in a room.

From another reality he heard someone whispering something, but he couldn't make out the words, just the soothing tone of the voice.

He wanted to go back to sleep, he was still so tired. That must have been one *hell* of a party. His head was fuzzy, his mouth was dry, and the aches felt like someone had tried to fuck him to death.

Yeah, all he wanted to do was sleep, but that damned voice kept beckoning to him. Who was it? He tried to concentrate, to sharpen the words, and make them come into focus.

It was Jim. The voice was Jim Ellison.

'Oh man, I'm in bed and Jim Ellison is next to me. Shit!' He grinned to himself, 'Man, no wonder I ache so much if he's been pounding me all night. Fuck, there is a God,' he giggled a little drunkenly.

Struggling to open his eyes, Blair tried to speak, but his throat was so dry. 'He was so good he not only took my breath away, he took my voice as well! Must have been one hell of a blow-job.'

"Don't try to talk, it's okay, I'm here," Jim's voice cooed.

"J…im?" Blair slurred. His eyes flickered open. He was met by the pain filled face of Jim Ellison, leaning over him, holding his hand…..fully dressed. "Fuck, you got your clothes on," he croaked.

Jim's face broke into a heart-melting smile, "Yeah, it's required in hospitals these days, unless you're a patient," he laughed.

"Bummer," Blair sniggered. Suddenly the reality of Jim's words sank in, "Hospital? What the fu.."

"Shh, don't speak. You're in hospital because you were attacked at my place, do you remember?" Jim asked.

Like floodgates opening, the memories rushed back into Blair's mind in torrents, "Sean," he croaked.

"Who?" Jim pulled himself closer. As he'd suspected, Blair knew his attacker, "Blair? You knew him?"

"Sean Ross, from the free clinic. I phoned to make an appointment for a test, like you asked," Blair said, tears welled in his eyes, "I'm sorry Jim. It was so stupid, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." the tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Jim leaned over and wrapped his arms around the younger man, "Hush. You didn't know. You were doing as I asked, you couldn't possibly have known," he gently wiped the wetness from Blair's cheek, and brushed back his curls from his face. "I have to go outside, and call Simon, get an A.P.B out on Sean Ross. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah. You coming back?" Blair asked.

"Of course I am. I'll be two minutes, I promise."

Sleepily Blair smiled, "You always keep your promises, don't you Jim?" he said.




The room was in darkness when Blair woke again, but at least this time his head was feeling less fuzzy. Glancing down, he smiled. Jim was slumped sideways on a chair, his hand still holding Blair's, but his head rested on his arm, and he snored lightly.

Blair felt his heart leap into his mouth. Jim was possibly the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen, and in sleep, when the mask had fallen, he was truly breathtaking.

Despite the all-pervading pain he felt, Blair considered the possibilities of jumping the guy here and now.

Suddenly Jim began to stir.

"Why don't you go home and get some sleep?" Blair whispered.

Jim shook his head, "I'm okay," he rubbed his face brusquely with his hand. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit," Blair smiled, "But at least I feel like live shit."

Jim smiled back, he still held onto the young mans hand tightly, "You need anything?" he asked.

"You holding my hand is doing me more good than drugs, man," Blair grinned, "You want to slip in here, and 'cure' me?" he gestured under the bed cover

Jim felt his face flush, "Even half dead, you're still a smart mouthed little bastard," he said with a laugh.

Blair laughed weakly, "Seriously though, man. I really appreciate you being here for me. No one else gives a shit," this time it was he who looked away shyly.

"Hey, that's what friends are for," Jim smiled.

"Friend?" Blair gasped, "You'd admit to being my friend?"

"Sure, why not?"

Blair laughed a sad, and ironic laugh, "I've never had a real friend. I guess I never thought I'd find one in a cop."

"Friendship's one of those things that creeps up on you when you least expect it. It doesn't always make sense, and it isn't always easy, but we survive it," Jim said softly.

"Well, I'm glad you're here, man. It means a lot to me," Blair looked away, "Fuck, these drugs they gave me must have scrambled my brain, " he laughed.

"Sure thing, Chief," Jim replied with a grin at the obvious embarrassment on the younger mans face.

"Chief?" Blair exclaimed, "That sounds like a pet name, man. You'll be proposing next!"

"Not in your lifetime, Junior," Jim teased.

"Junior? I prefer 'Chief'."

"Look, Blair," Jim turned serious, "Now I know you're going to be okay, I need to get back to the investigation. Sean Ross used his credit card at the Canadian border earlier today, so we're liaising with the Canadian authorities to track him down, and I need to be in on it. So I might not be in for a couple of days, okay?"

"Yeah, I understand. Jim?"


"Just be careful, huh?" Blair's large blue eyes echoed the concern in his voice.

"Sure. You just concentrate on getting well. And leave the male nurses alone, okay?" Jim smiled. He reached out, and tucked a stray curl behind Blair's ear.

The younger man shuddered at his touch, "I'll try. Unless one of 'em looks like you," he said with a shrug, "Then I might be forced to jump him," he teased.

"I'll leave instructions for you to be restrained at all times," Jim warned,

Blair gave a delighted gasp, "Oh, pinch me! I died and went to heaven!"



Simon Banks and Jim Ellison sat quietly in the upstairs window of the old drugstore. They'd received a tip off that Sean Ross was in the area, and had mounted a twenty-four hour surveillance alongside the Canadian authorities in a little town called Freemont, about three miles across the Canadian border. It was known that he'd visited this town as a child to call on an elderly Aunt, who had long since passed on. But, he might just be heading for somewhere to hole up a while until the heat dies down.

"If he doesn't show here, we've lost him," Simon said angrily.

"He'll show," Jim replied.

"You seem pretty sure. You been taking those 'positive' thinking lessons that they advertise in the back of cheap magazines?" Simon said with a grin.

"No, I just know he will. He's arrogant, and he thinks he's invincible," Jim said with conviction.

"Yeah, but if I was him, I'd be heading in the opposite direction. I'd be in South America by now."

"But this creep thinks that he's on a mission from God. He thinks that a higher power is guiding his hand, and that 'higher power' will protect him from the big, bad cops," Jim looked at Simon and shrugged, "Plus he probably thinks that Blair is dead, and that we still don't know who he is."

"You know, I hate it when evil bastards like this use God as their scapegoat. Gives real 'God fearing folk' a bad name," the older man said with distaste.

"Yeah, but it also ensures that they get a nice, cozy room in a mental institution, instead of sharing a cell with a guy affectionately known as 'Grizzly' for the next thirty years," Jim said with a sigh.

Simon snorted, "Couldn't happen to a nicer guy if you ask me," he replied.

"Ho…hold on. Who does that look like to you," Jim smiled slightly as a lone figure climbed down from the bus.

"Ross," Simon said with disbelief, "I'll radio the Canadian cops. Jim, you want to keep an eye on him?"

Jim pushed back his chair, and climbed to his feet. He checked his gun before tucking it into his waistband. "Oh yeah, I'll keep an eye on him, okay," he muttered.

"Jim, "Simon warned, recognizing the dangerous look in his friends eye, "Alive. We need him alive. I want that bastard to go down for life for the suffering he caused those kids."

"Me too, Simon. I want him to pay for what he did. If I shoot him, I give him the easy way out. Anyway," Jim smiled, "Who am I to rob 'Grizzly' of his playmate for the next three decades?"



The motel was just this side of seedy. Jim watched as the young man entered, and spoke to the desk clerk. She nodded, and handed him a register to sign.

Jim watched as he smiled that innocent, boyish, smile at the woman, who immediately reciprocated the pleasantry.

'Lady, if only you knew what those lily white hands you just lingered over, had done, your blood would run cold and you'd still be showering this time next week,' Jim thought with a frown.  Directing his line of sight at the key number disc, he noted that Ross had been allocated room six, six, six. 'How apt. The number of the devil,' Jim almost laughed. What did that make him then, the devil's adversary?

Suddenly his radio blipped, clicking the button into receive he spoke, "Ellison."

"Jim, James, and Perry of the Canadian Police force are covering the back. I'm right on your tail. As soon as I get there, we'll go in. I do not want to risk losing this guy," Simon said slightly breathlessly.

"I'm with you on that, Simon," Jim said, once again checking his gun.  He could not help but see visions of Blair's bleeding, battered body each time he closed his eyes, and this was making him angry. Anger in a situation like this was dangerous, he needed a level head, and his mind on what he was doing.

Anyway, Blair was fine. The doctors had said that he would make a complete recovery, and be back on his feet possibly within days, though full health was a few weeks down the line.

Moments later, Simon Banks moved in behind Jim cautiously, "He still in there?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. Third floor, sixth window from the right, I can almost smell him," Jim said with barely contained menace.

"Okay," Simon clicked on the radio, "We're going in the front, guys," he said, receiving a 'Roger' from the waiting cops.

Jim and Simon slipped across the street, and into the motel quietly. Simon flashed his badge at the desk clerk, and quickly explained that the young man who had just checked in was a wanted felon. The woman's face fell in shock, that such a decent, good looking boy could have done anything worse than incur a parking fine or littering violation.

With Jim leading, the two men moved silently up the stairs until they stood outside room six sixty-six.

After a nod from Simon, Jim knocked the door.

"Who is it?" Ross' voice called out.

"Police, Mr Ross. Please open the door," Jim shouted.

Without warning a shot rang out, cracking the flimsy wood of the door, as though it were cardboard. Jim and Simon moved back against the wall.

"Mr Ross, open the door and don't be an idiot," Simon said loudly, "The motel is surrounded. You can't get out. Please, open the door, and throw out your weapon."

Jim suddenly heard a scuffle inside, with a kick, he splintered the door, and moved in. Ross stood against the wall, one of the other officers clutched to his chest, bleeding from a shoulder wound.

"Get back or I'll kill him!" Ross panicked seeing the familiar big cop come through the door.

"Not this time you pathetic little bastard. This time you're not leaping through any windows, and you're not going to disappear into the night like some twisted avenging angel," Jim spat.

In a split second, Jim zeroed in with his sensitive sight, picking out the gap between the officer, and Ross and with a single shot took Ross down.

The young police officer fell forward, Jim rushing to grab him, and retrieve the gun from Ross' fingers.

"You have the right to remain silent," Jim began in a clear, loud voice, "Of course, if you 'do', I'm going to beat the shit out of you," he whispered just loud enough for Ross to hear. "You have the right to an attorney," the loud voice rang out, "But, who's gonna want to defend a sick little fuck like you?"




As Jim entered the hospital room, he was greeted with a shout, and a whistle, "Hey, Ellison! I thought you'd decided to go to Hawaii for a month, never mind the poor cripple in the hospital, oh no!" Blair beamed.

"Well, you look a lot better," Jim laughed, as Blair almost bounced on the bed.

"Did you get him?" the younger man asked.

"Yeah, we got him, and alive too."

"Fuck that, you should have shot the bastard, and saved the public taxes," Blair spat.

"You telling me that *you* pay taxes?" Jim smiled.

Blair's face broke into a smile, "In my own way," he laughed, "Man, it's good to see you." As Jim drew close, Blair reached up his arms for Jim to hug him. Slightly self-consciously, Jim complied.

"So, how do you feel?" the older man asked, seating himself beside the bed.

"I itch!" Blair squirmed, "Those bastards shaved my chest, now it's growing back, and it itches like hell!"

"That's the worst you can come up with. Your chest itches?" Jim laughed.

"It's not funny, man. You don't know what it's like to go through life like a walking fur coat." Blair unconsciously scrubbed at his chest again, trying to avoid the stitches. "It's like Chinese water torture only instead of a drip, drip, you get an itch, itch. Eeesshh, it sucks!"

Jim smiled as the young man shuddered, "You're looking good, anyway," he said.

Blair's eyes took on a lustful expression, "So are you," he said in a low voice, glancing up at the bigger man from beneath long lashes.

"You *are* much better I see," Jim said with a sigh.

Blair's face broke into a grin, "That really creeps you out doesn't it, Jim?" he grinned.

"No," Jim replied with all seriousness. He looked away, before continuing, "The doctor says that you'll be ready to leave here in a few days, just as long as you have somewhere to stay. She said you're going to need someone to watch over you for a week or two.…you can stay with me, if you want?"

Blair smiled, and reached out for Jim's hand, "Thanks, man. You really are a friend," he tried to find Jim's gaze, but the bigger man was deliberately avoiding his eyes, "I appreciate it. It can't be much fun having me around you all the time."

"I don't mind," Jim replied, "Look, you need to rest, and I need to get home, shower, and sleep. I'll be in tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. See you tomorrow," Blair said as Jim climbed to his feet, and left the room with almost a wave.

He was still having real trouble working Jim out. On one hand, he was showing such concern, and fondness for a cheap little whore that Blair couldn't help but be touched. But, at the same time, he managed to pull away sharply whenever Blair tried to reciprocate that concern.

And then there was 'that' feeling. He could quite pick a name for it, but when Jim Ellison was close, Blair felt…..complete.

Lowering himself back on the pillow he smiled. He was alive…thanks to Jim and he would repay that debt in whatever way he could. Of course, if there really was a God, Jim would want his body as payment, but anything else would suffice. He owed the man *big* time.





The trial was gruesome, and long-winded. Blair conducted himself impeccably at all times. He didn't lose his temper when the defense attorney attacked him over his occupation, but merely explained himself in quiet, cold details.

When he felt the stress beginning to build, he would look over at Jim, who sat, eyes trained on the younger man, giving him the strength to continue.

Eventually, Sean Ross was found guilty of the murders of six young men ranging in age from sixteen years to twenty-two years, and the shooting, and wounding of a Canadian police officer. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, and instructed to undergo continued psychological evaluation. Not quite the 'throw him in a cell and let him rot' that Jim wanted to see, but at least he was off the streets, and unable to hurt anyone else.

Walking from the courtroom, Blair gave a sigh, "Man, is it really all over?" he said looking up at Jim.

"Yeah, it's all over. You did a great job, Blair, I'm proud of you," Jim smiled, "Come on, I'll buy you a drink."


"Well," Blair said staring into his drink, "I guess this is kind of goodbye?"

"Why where you going?" Jim asked.

"What I mean is, the case is over you don't need me anymore," Blair said still studying the liquid as it frothed over the top of the glass.

"Doesn't mean we can't be friends," Jim said awkwardly.

"Oh, sure, you could take me to one of your little cop 'get togethers.' I'm sure I'd go down a storm," Blair laughed humorlessly.

"Blair, please don't."

"Face it, Jim. We come from different worlds," the younger man said angrily, "Shit!" he threw the beer mat across the booth.

"Blair," Jim reached over, and grabbed Blair's arm, "Come on, calm down," he looked around to see if anyone had seen the outburst.

"Sorry, " the young man sighed, " By the way, I went to see an apartment yesterday."


"Down on 42nd," the younger man sighed, "Man, what a shit hole, but it'll have to do until I earn enough to get something better."

"Oh," Jim stared into his beer, "You…er…you going back to your old job then?"

"No, I thought I'd take up brain surgery," Blair sneered, "Jim, I can't *do* anything else."

"But you know how dangerous it is, and...." Jim struggled.

Blair reached out and took Jim's hand in his, "What?" he asked.

"And I'm worried for you," Jim squirmed.

"Why? You're not falling for me are you?" Blair teased.

Jim's face flushed furiously, "Blair!"

The younger mans eyes opened wide, "You *are*, aren't you?" he gasped, "Holy shit!"

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and gave a pained sigh, "Blair…" he began.

"Man, I am like *so* flattered," Blair sniggered.

"And I am 'like *so*' embarrassed," Jim groaned.

Blair sighed, "It still doesn't change the fact that I'm unemployable as anything but a whore."


"Don't what? It's the truth," Blair whispered, stroking Jim's hand lightly.

Suddenly Jim gripped Blair's hand pulling it across his mouth, kissing the palm before holding the hand against his face. "I'm sorry," he said, releasing it, and turning away shyly.

"Oh Jim."

Jim sighed, and rubbed at his pink cheeks as if the action would wipe away the embarrassment, "Come on, let's get back to the loft," he suggested, "Oh I gotta go to the men's room first, be back in a second."

Blair fought to contain the smile that he knew was plastered across his face. Maybe Jim did want him after all?


At that moment a shadow fell across the booth, "Well, lookee here at what we have. A smiling whore," Magnus' sneering tones echoed.

Blair glanced up nervously, "What do you want?" he asked.

"My money…you working that sweet little ass again, you get the picture pretty baby?"

"I...I'm not doing that right now. I was sick, man. That guy almost killed me."

"Oh, well ain't that a sad story?" the big man mocked. "Never mind, you can start now, there's an old guy in the corner with more money than sense, he might be drunk enough to pay for your scrawny little ass." He grabbed Blair, dragging him to his feet, "So get to it!"

Suddenly Magnus was being pulled away, "What are you doing?" Jim Ellison's cold voice asked.

"I'm just talking to my 'associate'," the pimp sneered.

"Well, he doesn't want to talk to you, do you Blair?"

"Not right now, man. Please, let's just go? I don't want any trouble here," Blair said fearfully.

"No, me neither. So if you'd like to get your ugly ass out of here, I won't be forced to do something that's going to cost me a months paperwork," Jim snarled into the man's face.

"Oh yeah, *cop*. What you gonna do?  'Book me'?"

Jim pulled him up close, "No. If you touch him, harass him, or even *speak* to him again, I'm going to kill you."

Magnus' face dropped, the sweat began to bead on his forehead, "You're a cop, you fuck. You wouldn't do that!" he sneered again.

Jim smiled the coldest smile Blair had ever seen, "You think? Are you really such a stupid son-of-a-bitch that you think cops don't make scum like you 'disappear' all the time?"


"Did you ever *see* the paperwork involved in murder cases? Shit loads. So, when *we* do it…..we do it right. The body *never* gets found." Jim grinned, "Or occasionally, when we feel creative, we organize a 'heart attack' or a 'stroke'. So sad in a young guy, but what with the drugs and the beer, and all that shit junk food clogging your arteries, it happens." He smiled down at the now quaking figure, "You want me to get 'creative', Magnus?"


"Then do yourself a favor and leave right now. Don't even walk along the same sidewalk as Blair ever again. Because if he so much as stubs his toe…..I'm coming for *you*. Don't give a shit if you did it personally or not. I'm going to come take out my frustrations on your slimy ass, then I'm going to bury you where even the worms will have trouble finding you. Am I getting through here?"

"Yeah…I got ya," Magnus gibbered.

"Great. Communication is a wonderful thing. Bye," Jim shoved the pimp across the walkway.

"You can have him, cop. He's soiled goods anyway. Don't think there's anybody in this town who hasn't fucked his ass already," Magnus pulled himself together, and scuttled from the bar.

"Jim!" Blair grabbed the older man's arm, "Shit you scared me."

"Come on, let's go home."



"So what happened in the bar, man?" Blair asked as they sat down on the sofa, a beer in their hands, "And I mean the kissing the hand stuff, not scaring the shit out of Magnus."

"I'm sorry, Blair. I was out of line," Jim said not looking at the younger man.

"No, I think you were being pretty damned honest, at least that's how it looked to me."

"I…" Jim scratched his head nervously.

"Do you want to sleep with me?" Blair asked tentatively, "Is that it?"

"What?" Jim replied, his voice cracking with nerves.

"You know, as in have sex with me? Well, do you?"

Jim squirmed, and writhed in his seat, "I, er…I think I'm falling in love with you," he said finally, not taking his gaze from the floor.

"Fuck!" Blair gasped, his jaw dropping open, "Are you serious?" he gaped.

"Yes!" Jim retorted with slight irritation.

"Oh, man, I don't know what to say?"

"Try the word pathetic," Jim sighed.

Blair scooted up the sofa until he sat beside Jim, their knees touching, "Oh, no…no…you don't understand. No one ever 'fell in love' with me before. And we've never even fucked!" he exclaimed.

"There is more to it than 'fucking'," Jim growled, "For me, anyway."

"Yeah, man. I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to sound the way it did…oh shit, me and my mouth," Blair ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry."

Jim reached up, and touched Blair's face, "Shut up, Blair," he smiled as he caught the younger mans lips gently with his own.

Blair melted into Jim's touch, only touching planet earth again when Jim pulled away, "Jim? About what Magnus said?" he said as they broke the kiss, "He's right you know. About me being 'soiled goods'." A blush spread across his cheeks, and he looked away.

"No, he's not right. He's a pimp who lost a valuable commodity and he's pissed. You are beautiful, and intelligent, and immensely courageous, and I love you. End of story," the big cop smiled warmly as he claimed another kiss.

Blair eagerly moved forward, leaning into the kiss, reveling in the taste of this beautiful man he'd wanted since the first day he'd set eyes on him. "Can we go to bed now?" he asked.

"Do you ever think of anything else?" Jim teased.

"Sure, just not when you're around," Blair grinned, "not to mention the fact that I want to see that body so badly, I might injure myself if I don't do something soon."

"You're a hopeless case," Jim sighed.

"You should try jerking off at night, knowing that the object of your desire is just above you probably listening in, and thinking that you're a sick little pervert."

"No I didn't," Jim grinned, "I was too busy with my own 'entertainment'."

Blair hooted with laughter, "Why the hell didn't you call me? We could've helped one another out."

Jim pulled the younger man back into a kiss, holding his body tightly against his own, allowing all the desperation he'd felt for the past couple of months to flow from him. "Oh you taste wonderful," he groaned.

"Oh man, you're gonna have to fuck me soon, please, please," Blair begged, moving to straddle Jim's lap. He began to peel off the older mans shirt, pushing urgently at the fabric, "Oh shit, hurry Jim!"

"Blair, why can't we just take it slow?" Jim asked.

"Because I'm coming in my pants, that's why!" Blair exclaimed, "And I want you to nail me to the bed until I pass out," he panted.

Jim stopped, and looked up at Blair with concern. The younger man studied him, "You have done this before, haven't you?" he said finally.

Jim sighed, "Yeah, but it's been a while" he said quietly.

" So, do you want to top or bottom?" Blair asked, holding his breath.

Jim considered the offer for a moment, his cheeks tinged pink and Blair thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Jim looked into Blair's eyes, "Top," he whispered.

A slight shudder ran through the young man's body, "Oh God, Jim. I was praying you'd say that. I want you so badly!"

"I might be a little rusty here," Jim teased

Blair placed his hand over Jim's mouth and with a barely contained smile, he kissed his forehead, "Just stop worrying, it's not like you get points for style, and content or anything. We're not talking ice skating here," he teased, "Just relax, and enjoy, and let me guide you."

Jim smiled widely beneath the hand. He grasped Blair's fingers and kissed the palm of his hand. "Just promise not to laugh if I screw it up?" he said.

Blair clung onto the bigger man with a grin, "Oh, I promise I won't laugh. I might scream, thrash around, beg, and pant a little though," he teased, "Come on Jim. I want you undressed, and on the bed."

"Oh God, Blair," Jim swallowed with difficulty.

"Look, we'll take it slow. If I do anything you don't like, you tell me, okay? Total honesty."


Blair began to slowly lower the zip on Jim's jeans, at the same time, he claimed those long denied lips and plundered that sensual mouth. His fingers crept their way inside the cloth prison until they encountered Jim's heated cock, already straining against its confinement. Jim grunted as Blair slid his fingers around the organ, easing it from the pants gently. Once free, Blair began to gently stroke his fingers along its length, caressing the silken skin, feeling the heat rush through the veins.

"Oh God," Jim gasped suddenly breaking the kiss.

"Okay?" Blair whispered, stilling his caresses.

"Yeah…" Jim tried to swallow, "It just took my breath away for a minute. It's okay…"

Blair smiled, and continued his stroking. At first gentle strokes, which, twinned with the long, sensuous licks he was treating Jim's throat to, made the older man gasp with pleasure. He still straddled Jim's lap, his own hips began to rock with the motion of his hand. "You still okay with this?" he purred into the bigger mans ear. Jim merely nodded, resting his head on the back of the sofa, allowing himself to drink in the sensation.

Blair pushed the shirt from Jim's shoulders and began to explore the expanse of his chest. Delicate licks and gently nips were sending Jim wild. Blair could almost feel the other mans heart beating through his chest, "Tell me what you like, Jim?" he whispered.

"Just don't stop," Jim hissed through clenched teeth.

Blair laughed softly and stilled his fingers at Jim's crotch, "Mmmm, you sure you don't want to talk about this?" he teased.

Jim opened his eyes and growled at the mischief he saw reflected in his young lovers gaze. "I want to do this properly, let's go to bed."

"We can do it here."

"No. This isn't going to be a quick fuck, Blair. I love you, I want our first time to be special," Jim insisted.

Blair let fly one of those smiles that reduced Jim to a puddle, "I've never been anybody's 'special' before," he whispered.

"Well, you are mine. Come on, up the stairs."


On reaching Jim's bedroom, Blair suddenly found himself being flung backwards onto the bed. Jim peeled away his remaining clothing, before unwrapping Blair like a treasured Christmas present.

"Oh man," Blair gasped, as Jim finally pulled off the younger mans jeans, leaving him naked, before sliding onto the bed beside him, partially covering him with his body.

Jim's kisses left Blair breathless and his hard, weeping cock dug into Blair's thigh with a pulsating urgency.

"Jim, we need….condoms...lube…Oh shit!" Blair raggedly sucked in a breath.

Jim sighed, "I know," he said tightly. He pushed himself off his young lover and reached into the drawer, where he fished out a bottle and condoms, "Happy?" he grinned.

"Will be in a minute," Blair said with a glint in his eye, "I guess this means it's all coming back to you, huh?"

"Perfect recall," Jim grinned. Gently, he pushed Blair's thighs apart.

The younger man immediately spread himself open for his lover, reaching out, and pulling Jim in for a kiss.

Jim caressed the younger man's face, placing tender kisses on his eyelids, down onto his cheeks, sweeping his tongue across the full lips, and tasting the sweat beginning to form on Blair's throat.

He slowly let his fingers tickle the chest hair, and seek out a hard nipple.

Suddenly, Jim felt pain as his sensitive fingers found the scar left by the knife, spreading out across the young man's chest.

Blair felt Jim flinch, "It's okay, it's over. It's all over," he crooned, somehow instinctively knowing what his partner was feeling.

"I could have lost you," Jim groaned.

"But you didn't. We're together, that's all that matters. It was meant to be, man. Kismet," Blair replied, as he looked up into Jim's pain filled blue eyes.

"Yeah, Kismet," the older man smiled.

Blair kissed Jim hotly, just wanting to drive away the pain the only way he knew how. His experienced fingers ran the gauntlet of pleasure centers, teasing and caressing until his lover was helpless against him

"Oh, Blair," Jim groaned, as he pulled on the condom urgently and slicked himself with the lube from the bottle.

"Come on, just run with it man," Blair grinned.

Jim lined himself up, and with a push, he slid effortlessly into Blair's body.

Pulling in a breath Blair smiled, "Go for it, make me scream and beg," he teased.

Jim leaned down, and captured his lover's mouth. Blair grabbed greedily for the bigger man's lips, his fingers clawing at Jim's muscular shoulders, trying to pull him closer, to feel more of his body in contact with his own heated skin.

"Uh, " Blair grunted as Jim began to rock gently, "Jim…harder, please," he hissed.

"You sure?" Jim said with concern.

"Yes!" Blair gasped trying to arch up into Jim's embrace, driving himself further onto Jim's hard cock.

Smiling at Blair's urgency, Jim began to gently withdraw, before pushing hard back into the young mans quivering body. Blair threw his head back, and moaned. His fingers dug deeper into Jim's arms, as he lifted his upper body from the bed, trying not to break the contact he so desperately sought.

"Oh God…I've wanted this for so long," Jim groaned, "Since the day I first saw you," he said between kisses, "This feels so…right…so right…"

Blair shuddered at the words, yes, that *was* it…it felt 'right'. This wasn't sex, not a 'fuck'. This was lovemaking. He would never have believed that there could be any real difference, but there was.

A whole world of difference.

Suddenly, Blair felt Jim's body still, opening his eyes; he noticed that his lover's face was so blank, like he was caught in a dream.

"Jim?" he groaned softly, "Jim are you okay? Oh my God, I've killed you!"

The bigger man did not respond, but merely lay, frozen above him.

"Jim? Listen to me, man. Can you hear me? Come on Jim speak to me….please? Hey, you listening? Come on lover, come on back to me," Blair continued to croon softly until he felt Jim begin to move.

"Blair? Oh God, I zoned…I'm sorry!" Jim gasped.

"Oh man, you scared the shit outta me!"

"I'm sorry, so sorry.."

"What the hell happened?"

Jim caught Blair's mouth in a lingering kiss, slowly pumping his hips at the same time, bringing his partner to the edge, "Later…" he whispered.

"Oh Jim….oh God…yes…oh!" Blair's orgasm ripped at his body, sending him spiraling over the edge. "I love you!" he gasped.

"I know you do," Jim smiled as he slammed his way to his own completion, "You're mine now…forever."




Lying in bed, wrapped in each other's arms, Blair decided to approach the subject of Jim's weird 'attack' one again.

"What happened back there? You really scared me."

Sighing, Jim began to explain about his unique 'gift' and how he occasionally lost control of it.

"So you can go like that at *any* time?" Blair gasped, "Man, that must be scary."

"I rarely let myself open up enough to lose it, I guess I was just a little overwhelmed by…well," the older man smiled.

"Shit!" Blair grinned, "I know it's kinda sick, but I think I'm flattered."

Jim laughed, "The only person who could ever bring me out of a zone that way was the Professor."

"You weren't fucking him at the time, were you?"


Blair sniggered, and shuffled further into Jim's embrace, "Well, that's okay then. No one else touches *my* guy from now on," he pouted.

"Oh really?"


"The Professor gave me a book about Ancient Sentinels, and how they had these heightened senses, " Jim went on to explain, "It's pretty fascinating stuff."

"Can I read it?" Blair asked.

Jim looked down at him in surprise, "Sure."

"I can fucking read!" the younger man teased.

"I know!" Jim smiled, "I'll reach it out tomorrow."

"I want to know everything there is to know about you, James Ellison."

"I think you probably already do."




"Hey," Jim smiled as he entered the loft apartment to be greeted by his young lover hurling himself into his arms.

"Hey, sex god. Have a good day?" Blair purred.

"Very. Blair, there's something I want to ask you."

The younger man pulled back, "Oh hell, you called me 'Blair', this *must* be serious," he teased.

"I've been talking with Sarah Sharp today, she runs the 'citizens advocacy' group form one of the offices in the PD. They're pretty new, and just trying to get things organized."

"What's 'citizen's advocacy'?" Blair asked, dropping down on the sofa and pulling Jim down beside him before tucking himself into the bigger man's side.

"It's a group of workers that have no official link to the police department, but they work as 'go-betweens' for us, and the public. They work with the homeless, junkies, and prostitutes. Give them advice, and help, especially when they end up involved with the law, and they don't know what to do. They receive a paycheck from the city, not from the PD. At the moment they rent a couple of old offices in the basement of the PD building until they can find somewhere better. Anyway, I was talking to Sarah, and I mentioned you…"

Blair sat up and glared, "Suddenly this makes sense," he sighed.

"Come on, hear me out, Chief," Jim said nervously, "Sarah was saying that the three people who work there at the moment are all over forty, and they often can't relate to some of the young kids on the street. And that they were looking for someone young with some street experience."

"And did you happen to tell her what kind of 'street experience' I had?" Blair sneered.

"Yes, I did. She asked me to ask you if you'd like to go in, and see her tomorrow…just for a talk?"

Blair sank back into Jim's arms, "Fuck, Jim….I'm not a counselor…I'm a whore!" he groaned.

"No, you can be anything you want to be. Just give it a try. It won't hurt to go see her, will it?"

"Okay, I'll go talk to her. But, I'm not promising anything."

Jim pulled Blair in close and kissed him gently, "That's good enough for me."




Jim gasped as Blair walked down the stairs. Gone were the tight jeans, and clingy tee's, the wild curls, and the vivacious bounce.

Blair Sandburg wore a pair of pale blue chino's coupled with a matching loose shirt, tucked into the waistband, and a dark blue tie. His shoes were polished leather and he wore a smart storm blue jacket. Coupled with his tightly pulled back hair, and small wire rimmed spectacles, (that Jim had caught him wearing one day, much to the younger man's embarrassment.) he looked like a different person.

His face flushing, Blair glanced up, "Well?" he muttered.

"You look incredible," Jim gaped.

"I feel like a fucking accountant!" the younger man snarled, and pulled miserably at his collar.

Jim walked across the room and slid his arms around his partner, "You look beautiful. You always look beautiful," he said placing a kiss on Blair's forehead.

"I feel like a dick!"

"Come on, before you change your mind," Jim laughed as he half pushed Blair from the apartment.




'A ten minute chat,' Jim thought nervously, 'She said she wanted a ten minute chat with him!'

He checked his watch, and sighed, Blair had been in there for almost two hours. He twitched, and shuffled on the seat in the lobby. He'd promised Blair that he wouldn't listen in, and he always kept his promises.

'Oh God, please like him. I know that not everyone can love him the way I do, but *please* give him a chance.'

Suddenly the door opened and the young man emerged. As he walked towards Jim, his face was stormy.

Climbing to his feet, Jim Ellison prepared himself for the fallout. He should *never* have suggested this, and never have pushed his partner into anything that he didn't want to do.

"Everything okay, Chief?" he asked.

"No!" Blair snapped. He held out a piece of paper, "I got a fucking job!"


The End