Down on the strip

By Joram

Jim shifted his feet again and hunched down, automatically dialling his sense of touch down another notch, as the chill wind whistled around the corner and wrapped round his exposed body. Much as he hated stakeouts, the long hours of tedium trapped in a car with not enough room to even stretch and the knowledge that he couldn't let his attention wander even for a moment – the suspect always arrived just as you had looked away or gone for a leak – he would have traded any number of them for his current duty. He was just glad that Sandburg wasn't with him.

Glad for more reason than the obvious one that Blair would have hated standing around in the cold. Glad because Detective Jim Ellison's current duty was posing as a male prostitute in Cascade's notorious red-light district in the vain hope that the perp they were there to apprehend would approach him. Vain because this was the third night he and two colleagues had spent on the strip and as yet there had been no sign of Castleman.

He hadn't particularly wanted the duty in the first place – it wasn't even a Major Crimes case – but his old captain from Vice had called Simon and asked for the loan of an officer. The captain hadn't specified anyone in particular but there had been no doubt in either Simon's or Jim's mind given the nature of the duty just who Vice had wanted. After all, who else in Major Crimes had the sort of experience necessary to pull the job off apart from Ellison? So there he was, reluctantly drafted into Vice for the duration.

And what a job it was. The guy they were after, Bill Castleman, was smack bang in the middle of a high-level protection racket, a key player in an operation that held half of the Pacific Northwest in its clutches. Heretofore, the police had had nothing on him, he had appeared to be a legitimate businessman and, indeed, much of his business was but somewhere along the line someone in the organisation had slipped up and now they could connect him to several unsolved crimes. The only problem was, now that they had something on him, he had disappeared from the scene. The only lead they had was the strip. Vice had long been aware of Castleman's weakness for male hookers, especially those of a certain type, Ellison's type, but it wasn't until an informant down on the strip had been pulled in and questioned that Vice had realised that Castleman had been seen trawling for flesh there after he had disappeared from plain view. Their one hope was that his craving would overcome him and he would appear again. To that end they had recruited Jim Ellison to be one of their bait and Vice had supplied the other two men.

Ellison hadn't wanted to take the assignment but in the end he had been given no choice, his own sense of moral duty forcing him back into a role he had thought he had left behind forever. As the new guy in the Vice squad, it was a role he had taken on countless times. He was familiar with the streets, with the hierarchy of pimps and whores, both male and female, with all the behaviour that went on but he had never been comfortable with it and now, with a break of more than half a decade, he was even less so. Not that any officer ever was truly comfortable in the role but Jim, knowing his own nature, hated it, the hypocrisy of busting men just like him because of their sexual preference.

He had come to terms with the fact that he was bisexual a long time ago, even still occasionally acted on it though those times had been few and far between since his Sentinel powers had come online again, and he felt that playing the part of a prostitute somehow demeaned him not only because it was just a transaction but also because, met under other circumstances, he might have been tempted by some of the offers he had received.

Which was another reason he was glad that Sandburg wasn't with him. Didn't, in fact, know anything about the job at all. In the couple of years they had been roommates, Jim had never let slip that he was bi, too afraid of scaring Blair away from him. At first it had been because he desperately needed his Guide, someone to help him with his Sentinel abilities and that person was Blair Sandburg, grad student, police observer and best friend. As the months passed, however, and Jim had begun to get a handle on his senses, he realised that Blair meant more to him than that. In a rare moment of stark self-honesty he had been forced to acknowledge that he was in love with his partner. His all too straight, hump a table leg, woman chasing partner.

Ellison was afraid that if Sandburg knew he was bi he would soon come to the correct conclusion that the big cop was lusting after his body and Jim wouldn't see him for dust. It wasn't as though he thought Sandburg was particularly homophobic – no-one raised the way he had been and with Naomi for a mother could possibly be that prejudiced – but Jim wasn't willing to risk the close relationship they already had. And it was inevitable that no matter what Blair said, the knowledge would affect their relationship. And not for the better.

And so Jim had spent the last year quietly mooning over his partner, desperately hoping that his feelings weren't as obvious to everyone else as they were to him and hating on sight every female that Blair took even a passing interest in. His one faint consolation was the knowledge that Sandburg was a will-o-the-wisp, seemingly incapable of committing himself to any one woman for any length of time. In fact, the only person he had ever committed to was Jim and even so the cop was afraid that one day his restless nature would take hold once again and he'd be gone from Ellison's life just as abruptly as he had entered it.

He shivered again but this time it had nothing to do with the cold. The thought of Blair leaving frankly terrified him and he was determined that no action of his would be the one to drive him away. He could live with never telling Blair the extent of his feelings. After all, sex was only one part of the equation and, although emotionally unsatisfying, physical relief could be had from anyone – or just his own hand. Besides, it wasn't as if Blair didn't know that Jim loved him or that Blair didn't return the feeling. It was just that as far as the younger man was concerned that love was fraternal and not sexual.

He could live with that. He had to.

Feeling the ache of the Sandburg-sized space beside him, Jim wished briefly that his Guide was with him, his constant chatter or just his companionable silence helping him through another long night. He pushed the thought away almost immediately. There was no way he would have allowed Blair to come with him on this job even if the younger man had wanted to but Blair for once had been quite amenable to not being included. Almost enthusiastically so, claiming that he had to help out with some research a fellow student was doing at the university. Jim hadn't asked who the friend was, knowing from past experience that Blair only got that enthusiastic about helping out when the friends were six-foot statuesque blondes with luscious curves in all the right places. Faced with another night on the strip fending off unwanted propositions without becoming obvious about it, Jim hadn't wanted to hear all the juicy details of his partner's latest interest.

Casually leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, Jim stretched his senses out, checking first with sight and then, when that produced no sign of their target, decided to relieve the tedium by playing with his other senses. It was something he did often when he was alone, though it wasn't something he had ever admitted to Sandburg, careful as always not to push himself too far and into a zone-out. If his Guide ever discovered he was practising like this by himself whilst on the job he would never hear the end of it. Although Jim was the Blessed Protector, Sandburg was as equally as protective of his Sentinel, though usually in a less obvious manner.

Taste and touch were out – he didn't think he could be bothered to grope the next guy to proposition him just for the sake of a bit of practice – but hearing and smell were both possible. He tried with smell first but rapidly reined it in as the combined scents sweat and sex assaulted his sensitive nose and made his eyes water. Shaking his head to clear the miasma, he amused himself for a moment toying with the idea of using smell to determine which alleys and doorways were currently in use and which just had the lingering effects of past encounters but decided against it. He had inadvertently caught a pungent whiff of a couple of guys going at it whilst doing a sweep on the first night and had regretted it as his body immediately reacted to the stimulus. Without his Guide's help, he had been unable to dial down his smell completely and had spent much of the rest of the night with an aching erection. Learning from that mistake he had been careful not to let his senses get too focused on the subsequent nights.

Hearing, however, was fairly safe, the grunts and groans and sounds of sex not affecting him nearly as much. He couldn't deny that they did affect him a little but he had never been particularly voyeuristic (except with Blair when he jerked off at home in the loft but that was something he didn't seem to have the will power to resist) and listening in made him feel vaguely uncomfortable. He concentrated instead on the voices around him, listening in to odd snatches of conversation. When he was first in Vice it had amazed him just how ordinary some of those conversations were between the prostitutes of both sexes, ranging from the latest fashions to sport and even, on one very memorable occasion, the best ways of barbecuing chops. That incongruous topic had lead to a brawl and a good dozen of the hookers, Jim included, had spent a night a cell. Jim hadn't lived it down for months.

Smiling at the memory, his mind almost missed a familiar sound close by. Jerking abruptly upright, his jaw unconsciously tightening, he let his sight stretch out, effortlessly homing in on the small figure clad in baggy jacket and ripped jeans that stood not twenty feet away.

"Sandburg?!" Jim stared blankly at the other man, for one brief moment doubting what all his senses were telling him but there could be no mistake as the younger man span around in surprise and Jim saw the blue eyes that haunted most of his waking and sleeping moments widen in shock.

"Jim?" It came out almost as a squeak and Blair hurriedly excused himself from the man he had been talking to and approached his partner, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Sandburg's eyes widened even further as they took in his friend's location and apparel. Dressed in form fitting jeans and sleeveless t-shirt, Ellison looked like just another working man. "What are you doing here?"

"Stakeout," Jim growled curtly. "I told you that on Monday. More to the point, why the hell are you here?"

"Me?" he parroted, starting guiltily. Jim could almost see the ideas turning over in his fertile brain. "Uh, research," he offered finally.

"Research," Ellison repeated tonelessly. "Here?"

"Yeah, why not? That friend I was telling you about at the U – well, he's studying closed societies and the mentality of prostitution…"

"Sandburg!" Jim cut him off, recognising from long experience the start of a Sandburg anthropological monologue. He could catch up on the details later when they were both safe at home. "Have you any idea how much trouble you could get into down here? Christ, Chief, you've done some crazy things in your time but…"

"Oh, c'mon, Jim. It's not that bad. I can look after myself." He ignored the other man's raised eyebrow and ploughed on. "It's not as though I'm out dressed for cruising. Unlike you," he said pointedly. "Man, those are some hot clothes!"

Jim forced himself not to squirm as his partner's eyes raked him up and down thoroughly. He shifted restlessly, glad for the darkness that hid most of his reactions from his partner.

"I'm working," he repeated.

"Yeah, riight," Sandburg drawled. "I can see you are," he snickered.

"Oh for…." With a quick look around the street and a glare at a passing man who had stopped for a closer look at them, Ellison dragged the student back into the relative shelter of a doorway. "Don't even try that, Sandburg," he warned. "This isn't about me. I want you to go back to the loft right now."

"No way, I haven't finished what I'm doing. I'm not due to meet Pete for another hour yet," he protested, his amusement fading to irritation at the other man's typical high-handedness.

"Forget it," he was told curtly. "It is way too dangerous out here. You have no idea what goes on down here. You're easy meat – young, good looking. Christ, Sandburg, if one of these sharks decided not to take no for an answer, you wouldn't stand a chance. No-one would raise a hand to stop it."

Blair shrugged unconcernedly. "I'm only talking to the guys, I'm not on the market. Besides, you're here."

"You didn't know that," Ellison pointed out logically.

"I do now. My Blessed Protector won't let anything happen to me," he said blithely, smiling brightly at Jim in the vain hope that he would just let it go.

He wasn't worried about trouble on the strip, he'd been in far more perilous situations in his time, both as a youngster and on field trips for the university and knew he could handle himself but he hadn't wanted to tell his roommate what he was planning because he knew that Jim would put his foot down and forbid him to go. In some ways Ellison was so predictable. He had been relieved, therefore, when Jim had told him that he would be on a night-shift stakeout for several days because that meant he could be out himself without Jim ever knowing what he was doing or where he was. It also meant that he wouldn't have to lie to his friend. He had no compunction about bending the truth to suit the occasion but somehow he could never do that with Jim. Perhaps because the Sentinel part of the man was a built-in lie detector but mostly because Jim was his closest friend, the one person who knew him better than anyone else, knew his secrets and his fears. What it boiled down to was the fact that, just as Blair demanded unquestioning trust from his Sentinel on a daily basis, he felt that he was betraying the bond between them when he lied to Jim. He just couldn't do it.

"Yeah, well, your Blessed Protector is working. What happens when I'm occupied? I do get customers, you know," he growled.

Blair's jaw dropped. "You mean…?" he stuttered, staring at Jim in shock.

Jim realised what he had said and hastily rephrased. "I didn't mean that. But it looks strange if we stand here all night without doing any trade so every hour one of us gets a 'customer'. Vice cops know how to cruise."

Blair's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "If this is a Vice operation, what are you doing involved?"

"I'm on loan to them for a few days, they needed someone else who fit a certain physical profile. I matched it."

"So why didn't you tell me about it?" Blair accused.

It was Ellison's turn to shrug. "I didn't want you involved," he said firmly.

Blair glared at him. "Jim, man, I'm your partner. You work and you take me along. Remember?"

Jim shook his head. "Not this time, Chief. Not here."

"You say I'm easy meat, but what about you? What if you zoned out here? Jim, it's not only bullets that can hurt you when you're zoned," his Guide told him in exasperation. There were times when Ellison's protective instincts were distinctly misguided.

"Sandburg, I'm not gonna zone! I know what I'm doing here, okay. I've done this before plenty of times. All I have to do is stand around freezing my butt off until our guy turns up and then bust him. I don't have to use my senses, I don't have to give anyone a quick blow-job in a back alley and nor do I have to let myself get screwed unless I want to," the big cop pointed out sharply.

"You mean you've…." Blair trailed off incredulously.

"That's not what I meant, Sandburg," Jim said hastily. He hadn't meant to let his tongue run away with him but he was desperate for Blair to go home where it was safe. And where he wouldn't see a side of Jim Ellison that the cop had kept hidden from him. Although his time in Vice had been relatively short, he had been wild back then, out of control. He had fitted right into the Vice scene, throwing himself into character with little thought for the consequences so long as he got the perp. In the end it had been firmly, albeit unofficially, suggested that he apply for a transfer to another department before he went too far. In the half dozen years since he had managed to bury that other man but he knew that underneath he was still lurking, just waiting for an opportunity to get out again. The thought scared him, especially now that Blair was in his life. Sandburg thought he was a hero, a crusader for justice and right. He couldn't bear the thought of Blair looking at him in disgust.

"It's what you said."

"Sandburg." It came out as a growl of exasperation. "This isn't about me. This is a job, okay. Let's just leave it at that. I've got plenty of back-up. I'm wearing a wire – one word and there'll be six burly cops here in under a minute. I am not using my senses. I am not going to zone. Therefore, I do not need you here!" Jim's words were blunt and, tuned as he was to his partner, he saw Sandburg flinch minutely at the last phrase. It had came out harsher than he had intended it to but he was desperate for Blair to go home.

Blair stared at him for a long moment before veiling those bright blue eyes with long lashes. "Okay," he agreed.

Jim was surprised by his ready capitulation. He had expected far more of an argument. "Then I'll see you at home later, okay," he said with a smile, relief flooding through him.

"Sure," Blair said, turning away. "I'll probably be finished here in an hour or so," he added over his shoulder. "If you're done by then you can give me a lift. My car's at the U. Pete…"

"Sandburg." Jim grabbed his arm, his smile dying abruptly as he realised what the student intended, and turned Blair back to face him. "You don't give up, do you Chief?" he sighed in irritation. He thought for a moment, both hands still absently holding onto Blair's biceps. "Okay," he conceded at last. "You can stay here but…"

"Thanks, man," Blair interrupted with a broad smile, bouncing lightly on his toes. "I won't get in your way, I'll just..."

Jim blinked, momentarily distracted by a surge of familiar lust but then Blair's words caught up. "Hey, wait a moment, junior. If you insist on staying then you're waiting with the others in the car down the road. I'm not having you stand out here."

Blair shook his head insistently. "Not good enough, Jim," he said mulishly. "I'm no good to you down there."

Feeling his temper rising at his partner's intransigence, Jim shook him lightly. "You can't stand around out here," he repeated. "To put it bluntly, you look like a hooker, what with the hair and the earring. You stand here and you'll have more propositions than you know what to do with."

"Oh, c'mon, man," Blair laughed. "Look at me." Jim looked and couldn't see anything wrong. "Sure, I've got an earring and long hair but nothing else. No one's gonna notice me with all these guys around, 'specially if I'm standing next to a gorgeous hunk like you."

It was Jim's turn to stare. He ignored the crack about the gorgeous hunk, knowing that Blair was only joking, however much Jim wished he wasn't. Didn't Sandburg get it? The younger man was beautiful, his size and build giving him a deceptive air of fragility, his youth, innocence. When added to soulful blue eyes and a smile to die for, it added up to the very essence of lots of people's fantasies, women, men and one Jim Ellison. How could he make Blair understand that without giving away his own feelings?

"Sure, some men go for big guys like me," he said quietly, "but there are a hell of a lot more out there who like your type. Small, delicate, beautiful." Almost without realising it his hands moved upwards, one cupping the younger man's cheek, the other tangling in the long curls. Meeting his partner's eyes, Jim felt as though he was losing himself in them, drowning in the depths. "Hell, Sandburg," he murmured softly, "open your eyes and take a proper look up and down this strip. As far as I can see, you're the only one I'd pull my wallet out for."

"Wha…?" Blair gaped at him for a moment and then his expression changed as the realisation of what Jim had said swept over him.

Jim shook off the feelings, panic flaring as he realised just how close he had been to kissing Blair, to revealing his heart. He opened his mouth to speak but didn't get a chance as Blair suddenly shrugged off his hands and took a step closer to the bigger man, laying his hands flat on Jim's chest and smiled up at him from underneath his lashes.

"Well, then, if I can't just stand here, I'd much rather be a client. How much for the night?" he whispered throatily, one hand beginning to stroke across Jim's pecs, finally confident in the knowledge that the other man wanted him. Jim gasped as the wandering fingers found a nipple and paused to rub seductively.

Jim felt his body tighten at the stimulation, his nipples hardening to pebbled points, his cock pressing insistently at the seams of his jeans. What the hell was Blair doing?

Before it could go any further, Jim became viscerally aware that they were being watched. Looking away from Blair reluctantly he looked up to see a man watching them.

After a few moments of tense silence the man spoke. "If all you're doing is feeling the merchandise, kid, then step aside for a real man. I've got money in my pocket and I've just found what I wanna buy."

Although his words were directed at Sandburg, the man's eyes didn't leave Jim, his leer leaving no doubt in the cop's mind that he was being asked his price.

Jim ground his teeth. Why did Castleman have to turn up now of all times, just when it seemed that he and Blair were finally beginning to get somewhere?

Blair pulled away from Jim. "Back off, pal," he snarled. "Can't you see we're busy?"

He stood toe to toe with the other man, his body firmly placed between the stranger and Jim. If the situation hadn't been so critical Jim might have laughed at the sight of his diminutive guide facing off to the older man. Castleman was a big man, only marginally shorter than Jim but considerably bulkier, all of it hard muscle. Blair wouldn't stand a chance against him in a fight – Jim had doubts about his own ability to do so – but still the younger man was defending him, protecting him as fiercely as Ellison did him.

That thought brought Jim up short.

Blair was protecting his territory, just as the Sentinel in Jim protected Blair. One part of Jim wanted to bask in that knowledge but then the sane part kicked in. Not only did Blair not stand a snowflakes chance in hell against the guy but Ellison was supposed to be arresting Castleman, preferably without putting on too much of a show for the other's along the strip. The last thing he wanted was a repeat performance of the pork chop incident.

Instincts warred between his obligation to bust the man and his fervent and pressing need to verify the signals Blair was giving off. Duty won out, as long ingrained training came to the fore, pushing his lust back. He casually looked Castleman up and down, finally plastering a come-hither smile on his face and reached out a hand to pull Blair to his side.

"How much you offering?" he asked casually.

"For the two?" Castleman said, his gaze moving to Blair, lingering over his body longer than Jim liked.

"No way, man!" Blair yelped, his eyes widening impossibly at the suggestion.

"Oh, I don't know, Chief," Jim interrupted with a knowing smirk. "You're always telling me that I should open myself up to new experiences."

Blair span back to look at Jim in shock, unable to believe that he was serious. "Jim!" he protested.

"Hey, kid, you were prepared to pay me for the night a minute ago, like this you're getting it for free and this way we might both enjoy the ride," Jim said, leering at Castleman over Blair's head. "I'm sure it's nothing new to either of us."

The frigid silence at his side made Jim look at Blair and as the younger man met his eyes, he was suddenly painfully aware that his words had hurt his Guide and that something very precious between them had just shattered. Before he could say anything to reassure his partner Blair had pulled away from him.

"Well, if that's what you think of me, then I'm outta here," he snarled over his shoulder as he strode away, fleeing into the evening crowd.

Jim made an abortive movement to follow him, desperately wanting to go after Blair and explain but then remembered Castleman. With an effort he pasted a rueful smile on his face. "Ah, well. Guess it's just you and me then. My place?"

* * *

Jim trudged up the stairs wearily, wanting nothing more than to collapse on the couch with a cold beer and a hot partner. At the thought of Blair, Jim's footsteps quickened and he felt the cold knot of anxiety he had been trying to ignore ever since the younger man had stormed off settle back into his gut.

The bust had gone down without a hitch, Jim leading Castleman right up to the unmarked sedan and into the waiting arms of Cascade's finest. Castleman was on his way downtown almost before he had realised that he'd been set up. After the trials of the previous months, the arrest itself was almost anti-climactic.

With their perp safely in custody and his part done, Jim had hoped to get away quickly and find Sandburg but it hadn't worked out that way. Somehow Jim had found himself wading through reams of paperwork and he had been stuck at the station for a couple of hours. Jim had tried phoning Blair at both his office at the university and the loft but had received no answer from either, catching only the machine. He just hoped that Blair had returned to the loft and was ignoring him. The alternative, that he was out wandering around somewhere, something he did on occasion when he was really mad or upset, didn't bear thinking of.

He hadn't meant to hurt him, had actually been surprised that Blair had taken his words at face value. Even though Blair hadn't known that the man was Castleman, Jim had thought that, given the circumstances, he would put two and two together. Surely he didn't think that Jim would really act the way he had?

Reaching the third floor, he automatically cast his hearing out towards the loft, releasing an anxious breath as the caught the familiar heartbeat that told him Blair was home. The pounding beat was quicker than normal, still beating in angry rhythm, and Blair was muttering dire imprecations under his breath.

Jim pulled his keys out and opened the front door, stepping through almost gingerly. He halted abruptly just inside, only absently remembering to close the door as he looked around mess that had been his previously tidy home. Half-filled boxes were strewn over every surface, containing a jumble of clothes and books and artefacts. Blair's belongings, Jim realised with a sinking feeling. As he stood there, the man himself came out of his room with another pile of books which he dumped on the dining table. After one indecipherable look at Jim, Blair studiously ignored him, continuing around the living room, gathering together the artefacts that had found their way out of his room and into the main part of the loft over the last couple of years.

"What the hell are you doing, Chief?" Jim exclaimed as he trailed the whirlwind that was his partner around the loft. "Sandburg," he prompted harshly as Blair continued to ignore him.

"What does it look like? I'm packing," Blair snarled finally, tossing yet another statuette into an already overflowing box. Jim plucked it out again and put it back on the bookcase.

"Well, yeah, I can see that, but why?"

"Why?!" Blair span round and glared at him, his normally smoky eyes blazing like twin lasers. Almost involuntarily Jim took a step backwards and then realised that it was a bad move as Blair continued forward, shoving himself up into Jim's face aggressively.

"Why?!" Blair repeated, a finger poking into Jim's chest. "Why?!"

"Whoa there, pal," Jim held both hands up in a pacifying gesture. "Don't jump all over me, I only asked a question," he said defensively.

Blair shook his head disgustedly. "I'm moving out." He stalked towards the kitchen counter, fumbling to close the flap of one of the boxes sitting on it, once again refusing to look at Ellison. Losing patience, Jim grabbed the box out of his hand and tossed it on the floor.

"Hey, careful with that! It's breakable."

"Screw the box, Sandburg," he growled, grabbing Blair's arm as he tried to pass and dragged him into the living room. He pushed the smaller man down forcefully onto the couch. "Just sit there and tell me what the hell's got into you."

Blair bounced straight up again, hands gesturing wildly. "You just don't get it, do you? You really don't know what this about, do you?" he said, beginning his pacing once again.

"I wouldn't be asking if I did, Sandburg."

"Man, I don't believe you sometimes," the younger man exclaimed. "I thought we had something. Tonight, down on the strip, I thought…"

"We have," Jim interrupted, finally beginning to realise what was wrong. "I…"

"Oh, yeah, right, that's why you wanted a threesome, Jim. Correct me if I'm wrong but weren't you looking for a better ride?" Blair sneered. "Isn't that why you blew me off tonight as soon as another guy turned up? Tell me, Jim, just how much of a whore are you?" he spat out furiously.

"Just hold on a minute there, Sandburg. In case it's slipped your memory, I'm a cop. I was on a job down there."

"Yeah…"

"Oh for…" Jim grabbed hold of Blair again, using his strength to hold the angry man still. "I was there to bust Castleman and when he turned up, what was I supposed to do? Turn round and say to him 'excuse me Bill, would you mind just standing there while my partner and I try to sort out our personal life and when I'm finished I'll be over to bust you.'" Jim paused and took a deep, calming breath before continuing. "What did you want me to do, Blair, just let him walk away?" he asked more quietly. "We've been after Castleman for weeks and tonight was probably our last chance to get him. I couldn't just let that go. I'm sorry, Blair but even for you I can't stop being a cop. It's what I am. Sentinel of the Great City, remember?"

"That was your…." Blair stuttered, all anger draining out of him, leaving him feeling limp as he realised how stupid he had been.

"Yeah, that was our perp," Jim confirmed softly, hands reaching out to cup Blair's face in the familiar gesture.

Blair yanked away. "Ah, god, Jim, I'm sorry. I didn't think…. I just…I thought you were…" He shook his head, hands running through his hair and clutching at it helplessly.

"Chief…" Jim began but Blair interrupted him.

"Ah, god, I am so stupid sometimes. Of course that was your perp, how could he not be?" he mumbled.

"You weren't to know that," Jim tried to reassure him.

"Of course I should have!" Blair contradicted forcefully. "You told me you were working and when he turned up I should have known that it was all an act. You'd never treat someone important…." He trailed off suddenly with a shrug. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blow up at you, I just…"

Jim couldn't stand to see the lost look on his Guide's face as Blair turned all the anger that he had targeted at Jim on himself, heaping on the guilt. He reached out to touch Blair again, refusing to let him pull away by the simple expedient of pulling him into his arms. Blair froze but didn't try to move. Jim hugged him tightly, burying his nose in the fragrant brown curls beside his cheek, allowing himself the luxury of momentarily just feeling and sensing his love before he spoke.

"Listen, Chief, I'm sorry too. When Castleman turned up I didn't know what to do. If it had been anyone else I would have told them exactly where to go put themselves, what we were doing was far more important. But I was on duty…" he explained.

"I understand, Jim. I shouldn't have…" Blair broke in, his face still hidden in Jim's neck.

Jim shook his head in denial and continued, "No, Chief, I just sorta expected you to play along. Thought we'd get him out of public view, bust him and then get back to us. I never thought you'd take what I said at face value." He pushed Blair away from him slightly, one hand tilting his chin up until their eyes met. "You do know that I would never hurt you like that, don't you? That I'd… Oh, hell, Chief, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I would never share you with anyone. I…" he took a steadying breath before he finally admitted, "I love you, Chief."

He waited tensely for the younger man's reaction, praying that he hadn't read the situation wrong earlier, that Blair really did feel something for him, too.

Blair was silent for a long moment before burrowing back into Jim's body, this time his arms wrapping tightly around the bigger man's waist.

"Ah, hell, Jim," he sighed shakily. "I have waited to hear you say that for so long. Never thought you would. Never thought I stood a chance before and then tonight… It felt like Holy Grail time." He chuckled mistily. "A miracle. Like I'd finally been given the thing I wanted most in the world."

"Yeah, I know that feeling. Felt like that to me, too."

"Then he turned up and I…"

Jim hugged him tightly. "You thought I didn't mean it, that I was playing with you," he put in, feeling Blair nod against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, love, I never want you to think that. Nobody else has ever held a candle to you, babe. I love you so damn much it's been driving me crazy," he confessed, feeling his heart sing. "Kept trying to get you out of my mind, knew you couldn't possibly be interested in me…"

Blair pulled back slightly, reaching up to link his hands behind Jim's head. "Jim," he said earnestly. "I think I have been in love with you since the beginning, certainly wanted you ever since I moved in here but I didn't think you went for guys. I was afraid you'd throw me out if I ever let you knew that I… you know," he shrugged.

"That you did," Jim finished for him. "God, Chief, we have both been so stupid." He shook his head ruefully as Blair grinned up at him. "You know what's wrong with our relationship? All thinking and no action. Love you," he murmured, lowering his head to meet Blair's mouth halfway.

That first kiss was incredible, a chaste enough beginning that soon turned into passion as each of them finally felt the last bit of themselves that had always been missing click into place.

"Mmmmm…. Love you, too. Forever," Blair murmured as their mouths finally parted.

Jim smiled at him blindingly. "Forever, babe," he affirmed. "Oh and Blair, no more trips down to the strip for either of us again," he joked before being dragged back for another of what would prove to be a lifetime of earth-shattering kisses.