A Fair Distance: Comes a Time. Chapter Three

In my dream, I was walking through Cascade. I knew it was a dream because while I've got long legs, there was no way I was breezing past familiar landmarks that fast.

Blair had discussed what lucid dreaming was with me before, and I knew that was what I was doing. Well, it would be more accurate to say that he'd talked about the books he'd read on the subject and when he'd stopped to breathe I'd made grunting noises to show I'd been listening to him, while I'd been cooking or driving or doing any of the other mundane chores, or just dozing in bed or on the couch.

I liked to listen to Blair rattle on about stuff. For the most part it was soothing, kind of like listening to trains in the distance, or fog horns from the harbor. He could be annoying, sure, but unless it was something he really wanted to discuss, he was fine with changing the subject, or offering to give me a massage, or asking if I wanted to go down to the park with him and shoot some hoops.

So, since I was in charge of what was happening in my dream, I headed over to our neighborhood. I wanted to find Blair, and I figured he might be home already. I passed the neighborhood bookstore where Blair had regularly contributed to the owner's college fund for his kids, and then the small park where we would go for runs on the trails or Blair would shoot hoops and live out his fantasy about being a professional basketball player.

He was pretty good for a guy his height, and it always made me grin when he'd crow about getting past my longer arms to sink the ball through the hoop. He'd made sure to get an elbow in my ribs whenever I'd kidded him that it was handy that hobbits were so talented at throwing things.

He was a whiz at pitching things accurately. I'd lost count of the number of times he'd hit some stupid criminal on the head with something he'd winged at the guy during a confrontation, usually while bullets were flying. He was also an excellent baseball player and sometimes had pitched for us when Major Crimes had been required to come up with a team for some recreational shindig. He was a natural shortstop, too, quick and agile and cute as he could be, scooping up ground balls and whirling to hurl them at first base or home.

Maybe Blair and I could join some community teams this year, play regularly. He'd like that, probably for a couple of reasons – enjoyable competitive exercise for one, and connecting with new people for another. He'd lost creditability within his academic world and had become out of step with our police friends. We'd talked about that on the last leg of our journey home. Well, to Cascade. It was home to me, but I wasn't sure if Blair considered it home anymore. All he'd said about that was he'd see how he felt after he was back. I was home, he said. Whither thou goest, and all that jazz. I'd had my arm slung around his shoulder at the time, and I pulled him in even closer to me. "Chief," was all I'd said.

He was everything to me, but I knew that to be healthy we both needed other people in our lives. I was content to have a small circle of good friends and family, but Blair wasn't me. I was pretty sure that to feel satisfied with his life he needed to be more involved with community activities than he had been before I'd fucked things up and he'd left Cascade.

Blair was a people person, although he'd often told me that being an anthropologist meant walking a fine line between having empathy for the group you were observing and staying distant enough so that personal feelings didn't influence your documentation. And that was difficult to do when you were participating in people's daily lives. There were psychological effects on anthropologists immersed in a culture not their own, "going native" and "identity shifts," he had said.

I didn't like it that Blair had considered all of us in Major Crimes as a cultural group he was there to figure out. Looking back, I had wanted him to be a part of my world, but on my terms, not his. After working with him on the Switchman case, I may have told him that he'd have to go to the academy like any other cadet, mostly to yank his long-haired hippie chain, but at the core, in hindsight, I'd meant it. I'd wanted him to be my partner, not my observer. I still wanted him for a work partner, but the Chief of Police had shot that dream down.

Blair would have been a good police officer, and a better detective, but it would have changed him. How could it not? Experiences matter. The ones I'd had in my life had shaped me. If Naomi had been a suburban mother, if Blair hadn't had the travel experiences and exposure to many world views growing up, would he even be interested in anthropology?

I usually dismissed thoughts like these as useless navel gazing. Our paths had crossed, we'd connected with each other, and then fucked up, but we'd figured out where we went wrong and we'd do it right this time. Why spend time speculating about how we might have missed knowing each other if our lives had been different?

Nature and nurture. Genetics and environment. What is and what could be. Genetically, I was a sentinel. However, my spirit guide had told me I had a choice. Somehow, I could turn those genes for enhanced senses right off. I'd done it in the past when I'd repressed them. Was Blair a guide because of genetics? Or was it because of how his life had been shaped by his experiences, his environment?

I didn't really care. I didn't have the same level of fascination for those kinds of questions that Blair did. What was important was that he was mine. It didn't matter much to me why.

I'd come to our street now in my dream, and I hurried, the scents of freshly baked cookies and bread wafting to me from Collette's.

I could stop there and snag a couple of huge, fresh-from-the-oven muffins, blueberry for Blair and a banana-nut one for me, and take them up to the loft since I was doing this lucid dreaming bit.

I decided against it. I was feeling a sense of urgency to find Blair. We could come back down to the bakery, and maybe I'd sweet-talk Blair into really indulging in a sugar fest. That incredibly decadent Chocolate Death cake maybe, or cheesecake. Actually, I'd probably haggle with Blair over the choices and by the time we were done, he'd have "convinced" me to settle for the muffin I'd wanted in the first place, but he wouldn't scold me about my unhealthy habits since I'd passed on the cheesecake for his sake.

It was so much fun to mess with him like that. In some ways it made me feel like a kid again, and it buffered me from the shit I dealt with on the job. Blair was fun. He came up with interesting things to do, and it was a gas to tease him or drive him wild with just the right way to touch him.

Fun. I recommended it. I couldn't wait to find him and engage in some again.

xxx

Even before I opened the door to the loft, I knew Blair wasn't there. The reassuring sound of his heartbeat was missing, but I could hear him faintly. He was singing. He didn't sound too bad, either. Apparently in my dream I'd arranged to have him sing on key. In the waking world, sometimes Blair could be a half step higher than the correct note, or a little flat. Didn't matter. As long as I didn't have a headache, I liked to hear him cut loose in the shower, or hum as he did chores or schoolwork.

The loft looked pristine. That was another clue that Blair hadn't been here. I didn't believe that a year of being away had changed him to the extent that he'd stopped being naturally messy. He'd do his share of the chores, and more, and he'd get around to picking up after himself, but that first invasion of any place usually resulted in his belongings scattered on top of counters and on the floor and flung over furniture before he went back and straightened things up.

I sort of missed how he'd so thoroughly inhabit the space of where he was, like marking his territory. Those last few weeks before he'd left Cascade, he'd been so careful not to leave his stuff lying around. I guess he'd been hoping to not give me a reason to blow up at him. At the time, I just saw it as more proof that he was withdrawing from me.

I'd been such an ass. Blair had been damned if he kept things neat, and damned if he didn't. I told myself once more not to ever let things between us get to that point again.

I was still aware that I was dreaming, but I couldn't make him show up in the loft, carrying beers for us to drink out on the balcony. Blair apparently marched to the beat of a different drummer, even when it was my dream. Blair's humming started including phrases, and I closed my eyes.

One by one, except for hearing, I toned down my senses, I focused on the words I could hear softly from far away, and then, eyes shut, I turned and followed the music.

xxx

I had figured out where I was going to end up, and I decided that it would be all right. Weird, but okay. At least this time my journey into the spirit plane went smoothly. There were no vine barriers, no spirit guides waylaying me to give me advice. I cautiously allowed my senses - smell, touch, and taste – to return to normal levels, and I kept heading towards Blair, walking down smooth paths and feeling a light breeze on my skin. It seemed important to keep my eyes shut, though. Maybe this was a trust walk thing. Years ago I'd called Blair my lodestar, and he was, in every way, and the sound of his voice would guide me to him and I would be fine.

"All the world over, so easy to see

People everywhere just wanna be free

Listen, please listen, that's the way it should be

Peace in the valley, people got to be free."

I'd never heard him warble this song before. He was just singing it over and over, like a mantra. I'd been smelling water, and I headed directly for it since I could also hear and scent Blair there. When I opened my eyes, Blair was sitting on a large rock at the edge of a small, clear pool, his legs dangling in the water, the foliage around him tinged with that spirit-plane blue hue. He stopped his seranade and looked up at me, a welcoming smile making him look beautiful.

"Hey, Jim, I was thinking about you."

"This is freaky, Chief."

He gave me an even bigger smile. "But cool. You don't look uptight... so are you handling this all right? Being in Blue Jungle Land? I haven't seen my spirit guide, or yours. Did you see them?

"No. I was dreaming, and I was looking for you, but you weren't home. I could hear you singing so I followed the sound of your voice. What's with the song, anyway? It sounds like an oldie."

"Well, I was thinking about you and me telling Naomi that we're together, and I was wondering where she is right now and hoping that she's having a good time."

He patted the rock, wordlessly asking me if I wanted to sit down and join him. I untied my boots and undressed. Blair was naked, and I remembered him questioning why he never had on any clothes when he was in my dreamscape. Even before we became lovers, I'd kept him naked in the blue jungle. Obviously , the spirit world had been intent on nudging me into seeing how lovely he was. Seeing him dead from me shooting him in his wolf form had overridden that thought at the time. There was nothing to stop me from appreciating his fine body now, though. However, it seemed only polite to join him in being bare. It wasn't difficult to decide to strip down either, since excessive modesty was not one of my hang-ups. Besides, that pool of water looked enticing. I wanted to slip into its coolness and bring Blair with me.

I put my arm around him after I made myself comfortable. "Still haven't heard why you were singing that song, Chief."

"I was remembering some of the good times me and mom had together, like traveling through Europe and India, and those months we spent down in Cancun when I was seven. The area wasn't developed as much for tourism back then, so we lived pretty cheaply. We spent a lot of time on the beach and Naomi took me to see some of the Mayan ruins. I think maybe that's when I started getting interested in being an anthropologist. I wanted to learn more about how those ancient people had lived, and what had happened to their descendents."

"And the song?" Sometimes getting an answer out of Blair was like taking a detour off the interstate. You'd get to your destination eventually, but you'd take in a lot of unexpected scenery along the way.

"It's like a hippie lullaby; Mom used to sing it to me when I was really little, when I was getting sleepy or I was bored. She taught me to sing it along with her. It just popped into my head while I was thinking about her."

"How do you think she'll take having a cop for a son-in-law?"

Blair chuckled. "She likes you, Jim. For a while, I was worried that she liked you too much. Do you have any idea how many friends felt the need to tell me how hot my mom was? She just sends out these vibes, and guys – women, too – just fall over themselves to do her favors, and they want her. She's never stayed too long with anybody, though. She's such a free spirit. Still, I'm glad that you two never got it on, because I'm pretty sure that she would have if you'd made a move for her. Now that would have been weird. It happens, though; I've talked to people who've shared lovers with a parent, and it's pretty messy to sort out."

I dropped a small kiss on his temple. "I think that some of the things that interested me most about your mother were the ways you two were alike and the ways you were different. If I'd met her instead of you, well, I might have taken her up on the flirting. Her pheromones are enticing, but they changed after we'd all spent some time together. Maybe she didn't know it on a conscious level, but I'm betting that subconsciously she decided I was off-limits."

He circled my waist with his arm and gave me a possessive hug. "Good. I don't like feeling angry with my mom. I've been working on ending the resentment I felt about her disregarding my wishes and messing with the diss. Being with you helps a lot. I have to let it go, and mostly I have. I'll keep working on it. Umm... she'll worry more about you getting hurt on the job, I think, once we tell her that we're life-partners. Oh, and about the stress that comes with being a cop? I think you can expect her to give you some advice for dealing with it."

I shrugged. "I'll listen to her, and who knows? She might have some good ideas. After all, she taught her son about that stuff, and he's almost always steered me right in the health and wellness department."

"Almost always?"

"Two words, Chief. Niktabi root."

"What!" He sounded a little indignant. "It helped with your cold, Jim."

"And it made me see a ghost. I'm not saying that it wasn't a good thing that I could help Molly pass on to the other side. Still, emyou/em didn't know it was going to affect me like that, did you?"

He laughed. "Jim, check your memory banks. You saw Molly in that abandoned building embefore/i I gave you the Niktabi. You've got natural talent when it comes to the paranormal, man, and haven't you figured out that when it comes to you and your abilities, I've always been winging it? I've been making it up as we go. And telling you that is me following our relationship rules about being honest with each other. You didn't come with an instruction manual, and ancient myths can only carry a guy so far. I've always tried to do my best to help you, and I always will." He started moving one foot in the water, and I bent my head and kissed him. His mouth opened under mine, an invitation to continue what I'd started.

"I know, Chief." I slid into the water and found it was almost chin deep. "Hey, c'mon in. The water's fine."

He looked amused that I'd chosen to repeat what he'd told me in the hospital, after we'd joined in the spirit world and I'd brought him back from the dead.

"About time. And I'm not talking about us having sex. It's so great that you came here on your own."

He cocked his head a little and I knew what he was looking at. "My aura still bright and shiny and colorful, Little Shaman?"

"Little... Jim, aside from the fact that it's kind of annoying being called 'little', that's how your spirit guide refers to me. You know what I think?"

I didn't give him a chance to expound. Instead I pulled him into this pretty woodland pool and up close to me. He gave a surprised squawk, but then he put his arms around my neck and let me support him.

I started nuzzling his throat. He wrapped his legs around my waist and I could feel his cock start to harden.

"What do you think, Blair?" I whispered in his ear, before I gently bit his earlobe. I moved us to the other side of the pool, where the water only came up to my nipples.

"I think that you're more in tune with your spiritual self, Jim. That's why you could initiate coming here, instead of being hijacked by your spirit guide. And I think that I should kiss you now." He sounded a little breathless and I loved that I could make him sound like that.

He followed through on that plan, and then turned the tables on me, licking and nuzzling a sweet spot under my jaw. My eyes closed in bliss, but then I felt things changing around me. The jungle scents disappeared, and I no longer felt the coolness of the water.

I opened my eyes. Blair and I were back in Simon's office, Blair between my legs and on top of me as we both sprawled on the couch. Blair's mouth was still on my neck, his body undulating against mine. God, he felt good, but I said gently, "Chief, we've got company."

He turned his head toward the door and his eyes went wide. "Oh, crap," he said in the tiniest of whispers.

Simon and Megan stood in the doorway.

xxx

I felt my face go hot with embarrassment. Jeez, Jim and I had been caught making out in Simon's office, and Megan was smirking at me.

"Sandy... I'm going to want all the details." I made a face at her; she covered her mouth, and I could see that she was trying not to laugh.

Simon had been eying us while we untangled ourselves. Jim stood up and I could see that he was still aroused, but my erection was fading away.

"Sir."

Simon sighed. "So... you and the kid. How long, or were you dreaming that he was some red-headed woman?"

"I knew who he was, Simon."

"So this isn't a one night stand kind of thing... Is it?"

"No. We're together." Jim held out his hand and I stood up, the blanket sliding to the floor. I took his warm hand and he squeezed my fingers. "We were going to tell you over that steak dinner."

"Yeah, congratulations to the two of you. I wish you the best, and that includes you, Sandburg. I'm still expecting that steak, though. Consider it compensation for this one time use of my couch."

He smiled at us, and I felt relief course through me. It looked like Simon was going to be okay about us. I'd been worried that knowing Jim and I were lovers would change his opinion of us, that he'd be critical and condemning. Jim had told me that was nonsense, that after all the shit the three of us had been through together, Simon would accept that the two of us were lovers. We hadn't changed; we were still who we'd been, and Simon would be fine.

Simon stopped smiling, though, and walked over and sat down at his desk. Megan was just enjoying the show. I felt awkward as hell, but Jim was calm.

"Connor, take Sandburg with you. Find him something to eat, but stay in the building for now. And shut the door on your way out," Simon ordered. He stuck a cigar in his mouth and chewed on it while I let go of Jim's hand and put my shoes on.

Simon waved Jim to a seat. He laid his cigar on the desk, then looked at me and winked. "You know, I don't know if I should offer my sympathies or congratulations to you, Blair. Jim's been a bear since you've been gone and I think I've finally figured out why. And don't ditch Connor. You're still under police protection until we finish up with Bergman." He frowned at me. "I want your word, Blair."

I walked over to where Jim was seated, and looked Simon in the eyes. "Okay, yeah, I'll stick with Megan. Thanks, Simon." I decided what the hell and bent over and kissed Jim goodbye. "Come and get me when we can go home. Bye, Jim. Bye, Simon." Simon didn't look shocked or disgusted, which was a relief. He just looked at me with a combination of amusement and disbelief... like he often did when I'd dumped something on him.

"Sandburg, stop smooching your boyfriend and get a move on. Ellison, I think you need a refresher on proper protocol." He stuck his cigar back in his mouth and clamped down while I glanced at Jim in sympathy. I knew that cigar chewing maneuver from my days as an observer. Simon was revving up for giving a dressing down.

Megan ushered me out and shut the door firmly, a huge grin on her face. I winced as I caught Simon's voice rising to bellowing level as he asked Jim what was he thinking by not disclosing that he had a personal relationship with a witness and, by the way, when had the two of us switched from friends to lovers?

Megan pulled me away from Simon's door. "C'mon, mate. Jim'll have to take his lumps, and I haven't given you a proper hug yet." She drew me into one that almost cracked my ribs, and it felt so good.

"I've missed you, Sandy. Worried about you, too. Why didn't you let me know how things were? And you and Jim – I want to hear all about it. Let's head to the break room and see about some coffee. I'll call Henri and tell him to bring us something good for brekkie. Not your green drink, though; I agree with your boyfriend that it's nasty stuff. I could fancy those big pancakes with maple syrup we had that time; what about you? Or eggs and sausages?"

It was early still, just seven o'clock. I walked out of the bullpen into the elevator with Megan. Some people were getting ready to go home, but it wasn't time for most of the detectives to be at work. I felt odd. I'd been glad to see Simon and Megan, but I felt uncomfortable walking around the P.D. I'd mentally said my goodbyes to this place and I knew I didn't belong here anymore. There wasn't any chance of fitting myself back into my old place as an observer. This was my past, not my future. My future was getting his ass chewed at the moment, and I hoped that Simon wouldn't be too hard on him.

So, coffee and breakfast. After that, I guessed twiddling my thumbs was on the menu until Jim and I could leave.

xxx

"Jim, I'm pulling you off this case as the lead detective. Joel's been working with you on interrogating Bergman, so he can take over. You can stay on the sidelines to help him, just be damned sure it's his name on the reports. I'm not going to risk that some slimy lawyer can discredit the evidence because you're boinking our main witness. Sure, we've got Bergman on tape stating he bought Sandburg's car, and several people saw him hand the poisoned coffee to Sandburg, but I'm not willing to take any chances. Joel can re-interview Blair, go over the same points that you established when you interrogated him in Tennessee, and we'll go with that version for the official documentation."

He took a moment to chew some more on his now soggy cigar, and I did a quick check on Blair's whereabouts, only listening with one ear to the rest of Simon's lecture when he started back up.

Blair was drinking coffee with Connor in the break room and apparently, from her comments, waiting for H to show up with breakfast. They weren't alone in there, so she wasn't trying to get Blair to spill his guts about him and me. She would try later, though. One thing I'd learned about Connor was that she was just as stubborn as me, and three times more curious about her friends' relationships than I'd ever be. Blair would try to appease her without giving away anything he thought I'd object to, but I was okay, well, sort of okay, with the heart to heart she and Blair would be having. Connor being given material for teasing or blackmail was inevitable when Blair started spilling the beans about us, and anyway, she'd just seen us making out on Simon's couch. She had the goods on us just from that.

I considered Connor a good friend, somebody who I trusted to have my back, but Blair was like a sibling to her. He maybe didn't recognize that, since he'd never grown up with a brother or a sister, but I could see it in how they related to each other. And he was definitely the little brother to her big sister act. She'd cheerfully bully him along for his own good, and he'd do what she wanted, even while complaining about it. He wasn't above teasing her, either, although that time he'd draped her desk with pink streamers, replaced her pens with pink ones, and swapped her desk calendar for one covered with pink hearts had backfired on him. Connor had given him a big kiss on the cheek, thanked him loudly for being so considerate, and had draped her pink fur jacket over her chair before she sat down and started on the inevitable stack of paperwork that decorated every desk in the bullpen.

Connor had embraced her love of all things pink since day one in Cascade, and since she could kick the butts of half the P.D., nobody cared to give her any grief about it.

She'd tried to talk to me about Blair after he'd left Cascade, but I'd cut her off every time. Eventually she'd stopped asking if I'd heard from him and quit ordering me to tell him to phone her when he did get back in touch with me. I imagined she was going to have a few words for him about not calling her this past year. Maybe I'd try to speak to her first, let her know that I'd fucked Blair up so badly that when he left he couldn't handle anything to do with me, including talking to our other friends. She could blow up at me for being an asshole, and maybe spare Blair from feeling guilty.

Would Blair appreciate me doing that for him, or would he think I was being overbearing and that I should let him face the music?

I sighed. I was pretty sure that Blair would tell me that I had to let him experience the consequences of his actions, and it had been his choice to not contact Connor or our other friends. Probably Connor would be happy to tell me I'd been an asshole, though.

"If I could have your attention, Detective?" Only Simon could couch that as a question which translated to "I'm one step away from assigning you to school crossing duty."

"Sorry, Captain." He'd just finished reaming me out for not telling him I'd been involved with Blair before he'd sent me to Tennessee. I hadn't wanted to go, and if I'd been thinking straight, I probably would have told him about us, just to get out of seeing Blair again. I'd have to ask Simon sometime if he'd ordered me to drive halfway across the country to Sweetwater because he knew Blair and I had unfinished business. It felt like it at the time, but apparently interrogating a friend about his involvement in a murder didn't cross the line the way interrogating a lover about said involvement did. At least not in Simon's mind.

"Get with Joel, explain why he's now the lead detective and why he needs to talk to Sandburg." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to leave to meet with the division heads and assistant chiefs for the weekly briefing. I'll be glad to say that we like Bergman for the Edwards case and where we are on nailing his ass. I think, though, that we'll be canceling the stakeouts at the various sites we set up to nab any hit-men who accepted a contract to take Sandburg out. We've gotten nothing from any of the leaks to the different departments, and now with Bergman in custody we can find out from him how he knew Sandburg was in Tennessee. Hell, maybe we can get him to pony up the names of his contacts." Simon put on his coat and picked his cigar back up. I knew he'd light it once he was outside.

"I'll contact Findley back in Sweetwater and see if those two bozos who were after Blair have coughed up anything else useful about 'The Man' who hired them."

I stood up myself. I held out my hand to Simon, knowing that while a hug from Blair would be reluctantly tolerated, under the heading of "Sandburg and his touchy-feely ways," Simon wouldn't cut me the same slack. Not unless the Jags did something spectacular while we were at a game or some other male bonding ritual had occurred that made close personal contact permissible. Well, that's what Blair would say, at any rate.

Simon shook my hand, a warm grip that promised me support should I need it; my friend for the moment, not my captain.

He turned before he opened the door and gave me a level gaze. "You treat that boy right, Jim. But just so I'm clear, in the future do not let me be the last to know about things that involve my men. And see about adding him to your insurance. Vera can give you a hand with the forms. I'll be returning in about three hours, and you or Joel can update me then."

He left the bullpen after conferring with Rhonda about his schedule for the day, and I headed to where Joel had holed up for the rest of last night. I had some explaining to do, but I wasn't worried that he would take badly the news that Blair and I were together. He'd liked Blair from the first time he'd met him, during the Switchman case, and he was too kind a man to reject Blair, and by extension me, even if homosexuality wasn't condoned by his church.

So far this coming out thing was working out okay. Now if we could get this case wrapped up that would be swell, so Blair and I could go home and collapse on our bed.

Fool around a little before drifting off to sleep. Fuck each other senseless when we woke up.

I wanted to see how Blair was doing, so I did a little long distance snooping. He was shoveling pancakes into his mouth, but stopping every so often to quiz H about the soon-to-be-born baby. I followed Simon's directive when I walked by Human Resources and added Blair to my life and health insurance. I was a little amused to see Vera's eyebrows rise as high as they did. Then I went to let Joel know he'd just been promoted to lead detective on our case.

xxx