I waited in our bed, my arm comfortably slung over Jim's chest, until Steven closed the door to my old room. The moonlight streaming into our bedroom allowed me to clearly see Jim's body, and I kissed him on the shoulder. He wasn't asleep; his eyes were open and he was staring up at the skylight, lost in thought.

The trip to Steven's favorite sports bar had proved a successful distraction from the heavy emotions that had affected all of us earlier, but I suspected that in the quiet of the night Jim's thoughts had returned to his father's death.

He shifted and kissed me softly on the lips, a kiss of comfort rather than passion.

"You were pretty angry tonight with your father." I spoke softly, confident that Steven wouldn't be disturbed by our conversation.

He let out a long breath before responding just as quietly. "Yeah. Sorry I blew off your advice about keeping calm."

"Sounded like a lot of old stuff mixed in with your feelings about his death."

"Yeah. You know what I'm thinking? I should have spoken to him about me being bi years ago. Forced him to face this prejudice he has about people being bi or gay."

"Jim, you're gonna drive yourself around the bend playing the what-if game."

"But if I had maybe he wouldn't have gone after you and the whole sorry mess could have been avoided."

I sighed. "Tell me, did you ever consider telling him about liking boys as well as girls back when you were a teenager?"

"No. I never could talk to my father, not really."

"Do you really think he'd have accepted you telling him that you liked your own sex?"

"There were so many other things that had gone wrong between Dad and me by then, that sharing something about my sex life never even crossed my mind."

"Don't you think he would have done everything possible to brainwash you into thinking you weren't bi?"

"Probably. He tried to convince me I didn't have the sentinel senses, after all. 'Don't be different' is what he kept trying to pound into my head."

"And you were a kid, Jim. He had the power in that relationship, and you couldn't have held your own against him, not by yourself with no support – no other family or counselors to help William learn to accept you for yourself."

"When Stevie set me up to take the blame for Dad's car being messed up-"

"You left, man."

"And I didn't talk to my father again until, well, you know when."

"And that did send a message to your dad. And I think that when you did reconcile, neither of you wanted to rock the boat by bringing up stuff that you knew would upset the other."

"Yeah. I know I felt that way."

"He wanted to save you, and I was, unfortunately, collateral damage."

"I really thought he would accept us, Chief. I knew he'd be uncomfortable at first, but I thought he'd come around."

"Jim, when he touched my face tonight, I felt his emotions. He felt so bad that I had to die to save you. He didn't hate me; he was fond of me."

"I was banking on you charming the socks off him when we told him about us." He smiled wryly at me.

"You were?"

"Well, you do grow on a person."

"Is that so?" I said, dryly, but my lips kept wanting to form a smile.

"I mean, I started off by throwing you against a wall, and look at us now."

I rolled on top of him and kissed him; long drugging kisses that led to Jim doing something vaguely covert-ops since I found myself beneath him with my hands restrained over my head.

He whispered in my ear, "Tell me the truth, Blair Sandburg. Did you like feeling my body pinning you against that wall back then?"

"Mmm."

"Because I liked putting you there. I was mad, but I was hard, too. Were you hard for me? You sure as hell weren't scared of me."

He licked my ear and I moaned.

"Tell me, and I'll let you come. I'll hold you down and touch you and tease you until you're begging for it, and then I'll fuck you. Did you like me doing that to you back then?"

"What do you think?"

"Do you want it now?"

He rocked against me and I told him what he wanted to hear. What I wanted to say.

Afterwards, sated and sleepy, I drifted off, listening to Jim's slow breathing, and feeling comforted by the warm touch of his skin against mine.

xxx

I was running, I was the wolf and I was chasing after the one who had destroyed my pitiful hiding places in Blue Jungle Land time after time. The one who had forced me to expose myself to the black jaguar's angry presence.

But that time was in the past. Now the jaguar hunted with me, searching for the elusive spirit that puzzled both of us.

I leapt over a fallen tree and tore through thickets of sharp-thorned bushes, then slowed down to a walk. Smelling the air, I kept searching with my keen eyesight for another glimpse of the small form that had caused such havoc in my life.

Gone. The only trace of the poor creature was the fear-scent still left hanging in the air, but the attempts I made to use that acridness to track the mysterious spirit guide failed.

The jaguar stalked toward me, and I didn't run from him as I had done in the past. He was my soul-mate, the bond between us strong enough to allow him to follow me past the veil of death.

Looking me over, he growled softly and tumbled me so that my belly was exposed to his sight.

I didn't mind. I knew he would never hurt me. He lay down next to me, but didn't touch my neck with his teeth. Instead, he chose a scratch on my belly and licked at it, soothing the sting I hadn't realized was there.

I whined, torn between the tickling feel of his tongue and the comfort he was giving me.

When he was finished with every bleeding scratch he could find, he rolled over on his side, and stretched, and I inched myself closer until we lay together in quiet companionship.

The blue tint of the spirit world began to lift and I had another one of my double visions. Looking down from above, I saw myself as my wolf spirit guide – lying next to the jaguar - and also curled up with Jim, both of us asleep in our bed, the yellow comforter tucked up around us.

When I opened my eyes, though, it was our loft and Jim that I saw. Not the rainforest of Jim's spirit plane and his spirit guide; it wasn't the heady scent of sweet jungle flowers I inhaled but the welcoming smell of coffee.

xxx

Steven and Jim had to work today, so breakfast was quick, just bagels and coffee. Steven and I did Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who got the second shower. Jim had slipped into the bathroom when I made a beeline for the coffee machine, Steven sitting blearily at the table sipping from his own mug.

Steven won, and as soon as Jim emerged from the bathroom, Steven disappeared into it carrying his extra clothes from the gym bag he'd brought up from his car last night.

I popped a bagel for Jim into the toaster, and did a few quick yoga stretches while he drank his coffee. He looked cute wearing his bathrobe and his hair was standing up every which way from tousling it with a towel.

When I'd been recovering from being sick Jim had gotten me to agree to take it easy for a while. I hadn't exactly been idle, but it wasn't like when I'd been essentially working at both the P.D. and Rainier and finishing my first Ph.D.

I'd only done some tutoring with a few students Eli had sent my way, sent out cover letters to possible employers that Jack and I had vetted, taught the classes at the Seattle PD, and went to my weekly counseling sessions.

Now, though, it was time that I got more serious about finding a job since I had finished teaching my classes at the Seattle PD yesterday afternoon. Until I landed something that was at least vaguely in my field, I needed to pick up some other work besides a couple of hours of tutoring a week.

Counseling had dropped down to once a month sessions. Probably in another couple of months I'd be done.

I felt good again, physically. I had energy, and I'd put back on a couple of pounds. Muscle, I hoped. I'd started going with Jim for workouts twice a week.

I knew I could drive tractor-trailers again safely, and while I wasn't wild about the idea, the money was good. And I had bills to pay.

My therapist and I had delved into why paying off my student loans was so important to me – because it was – and it was tied into my self-esteem. I'd heard one too many jokes about being a perpetual student. I'd laughed while being teased, but inside it had felt like I was being judged, that people were saying that being in grad school and a TA was a way of avoiding growing up and getting a real job. Paying off my debts as soon as possible was my way of saying that I had been and was being responsible about my education. That it had been an investment in myself and I had been serious about getting my Ph.D. Not that I couldn't move on from college life, or something, which was the message I had gotten from those jibes.

My therapist had gently pointed out that it was possible I was overreacting just a tad.

I probably was, but it didn't stop me from wanting to get back into regularly making large payments again.

Of course, Jim had offered to help me pay them off, but I'd talked him out of it. This was my debt to clear.

Jim finished eating and went upstairs to get dressed. I followed him and grabbed some clothes to change into, then sat down on the bed.

"Jim, couple of things."

"Okay. Shoot."

"The recorders and cameras at your dad's house, I want to bring them back home with me this morning, check them out."

Jim eyed me. "No problem. But I'll get them from the house. No sense in your presence riling up my old man again."

"I think I'd be okay going in by myself, actually, since I wouldn't be kissing you or touching you, but-"

"But you're going to indulge me and not be reckless with your safety, right?"

I blew him a kiss. "Right. We'll go in together when Steven drops us off."

"So, what's on your plate after we get your rust bucket?"

"I want to listen to the tapes, look at the camera's footage. William may have said something on them that might be important."

"I'll listen to them later. Turn up my hearing."

"Great idea. And I'm going to go see Mr. Brown. It's time I started working again, while I'm looking for a permanent job."

"Mr. Brown? Are you talking about Henri's uncle, great-uncle, the one that said he could probably hire you as a driver?" Jim's expression shifted, but before it settled on "vaguely curious" I'd seen a lost look in his eyes. Huh.

Henri had introduced us to his great-uncle at his baby girl's christening party two months ago and had put in a plug for me. It was a lot more than I deserved, I'd told Henri. I still felt ashamed that I'd tricked him the night William had died. I'd been surprised that he'd even wanted to invite me to the celebration, but he'd called and said he'd like both of us to come, if we could. The baptism was fascinating, as are all cultural rituals to me, and I'd gotten a kick out of watching Henri and his wife with their baby. Henri had let me hold Rebecca and it made me feel forgiven.

"Yep, that's the right Mr. Brown. I'm up to driving again, and he's got routes that are two or three day turnarounds. I could arrange my counseling sessions and tutoring around that kind of schedule."

Jim sat down next to me and frowned. "I won't lie and say I'm thrilled with the idea of you being on the road like that."

"It wouldn't be forever."

"I've been spoiled, having you here with me at night. What about finding something close to home? Welding?"

"I'd make better money driving, probably seven or eight dollars more an hour, than welding."

"Waiting tables again?"

"Are you sure you want me working again at somewhere like The Meeting Place?" Not that I wanted to work that sort of joint again.

Jim rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. "I'd like to say that it wouldn't bother me to know that you were flirting with customers – and I know it would just be for show – but I don't think I'm that enlightened. Maybe someplace like a good family style restaurant, where you wouldn't get mauled like you did before."

"I wouldn't make as much in tips at those places. Honestly, Jim, I'd rather drive."

Jim didn't look happy, but man, I needed a job. He knew that.

He pulled on a pair of socks, then walked over to the closet and chose a blue Irish fisherman sweater to pull over his black T-shirt. I admired the view, and Jim smiled at me when he turned around and saw me gawking. He pointed to the clothes in my hand and jerked his thumb at the stairs.

"You'd better shake a leg; Steven's out of the shower."

I jumped up from the bed and brought up what else was on my mind. "Jim, I spent some time in Blue Jungle Land last night. I was the wolf and you were the jaguar and we were chasing another spirit guide, the one that wrecked all my old hiding places. Do you remember being there?"

"Yes, I remember. I was going to talk to you about it later. Haven't you guessed who that spirit animal belongs to?"

"It's William's."

"I know. And he's miserable. I don't know how to help him, Chief."

"We'll keep trying to reach him. Maybe chasing him wasn't the way to go."

"Yeah. Think you're right about that."

The bathroom door opened and I gave Jim a quick hug before darting downstairs.

While I was in the shower, I kept flashing back to the look on Jim's face when I'd mentioned driving big rigs again. Something more than just the obvious – not spending time together – was bothering him about the idea. I'd have to get him to spill the beans about it, but right now my priority was checking those tapes.

xxx

I returned from the morning's errands and put my new driving schedule up on the fridge. Mr. Brown was a pistol, a much shorter version of Henri but just as hefty. He'd glanced at my CDL, and then he'd had me drive one of the rigs around a few streets with him, gave me some test questions, and then started telling one whopper after another about his days as a driver. After I drove back to the yard and backed the rig up to a loading dock, he told me that I had the job.

I had felt better right away, knowing that I could pay my own bills again. And now the pressure was off to find something right away in my field, in case I got turned down due to my rep as a fraud. I'd had a couple of rejection letters so far, and a handful of others stating that they didn't have any positions available at the moment but that they would keep my resume on file. I couldn't get published in any anthro journals, but I could try to write something for the general public, something about a specific culture, maybe for travel magazines. I'd have to research that option.

Jim had said when we'd parted at his dad's house this morning that he wanted to come home for a late lunch, and then follow up on some leads with witnesses that weren't too far from here. Man, it was tempting to see if I could ride along with him, even if I had to stay in the truck like old times, but the new guy in charge of Major Crimes had let Jim know he wouldn't put up with that. The Chief of Police hadn't changed his mind about me.

There were still too many cops willing to rat us out if I was seen with Jim on a case. I missed working with him. I missed figuring out clues and talking to witnesses. I didn't miss getting shot at, though. I would have gone through the Academy for Jim, but I wouldn't have liked being a regular cop. I'd have had to do things that wouldn't have set well with me, like arresting protestors or the homeless. I would have been a good detective, though.

Unfortunately, I couldn't have skipped being a beat cop first. Simon hadn't been able to avoid that, though he'd set up the next best thing, arranging for me to be assigned to Major Crimes for at least half the time once I'd graduated. The rest of my shifts would have been spent in Patrol. That detective's shield I'd been tossed had been more of a pledge for the future, than a job offer. Water under the bridge now.

I made myself a cup of chai tea, got comfortable on the couch, and started listening to the recordings made last night in William's house.

The recorder had been sound activated, and I listened to the four of us talking, setting things up. After that it was Jim asking for William to talk to him.

When I heard EVP actually on the tape, I almost dropped my tea in my lap. Jesus, I was hearing an actual ghost voice.

I pushed rewind and listened to it again. Yes. Definitely EVP. I'd listened to some examples from people I trusted while researching communicating with ghosts, and what I was hearing was the real thing.

I made a note of the time on the recorder and listened to the rest of the digital recording. Then I checked the other recorder and the cameras. There was corroboration between the sound recorders and the video recorder on the tripod.

Three times William had spoken to us. It was hard for ghosts to make intelligible sounds, so usually speech was short. I don't think Molly had ever said anything to Jim when he'd seen her.

Jim wasn't going to like this.

xxx

Jim handed me beer to put in the fridge while he put away his gun. He told me that he didn't have to go track down those witnesses after all, so he was taking some flex time and didn't have to go back to work today.

I heated up some leftover lentil soup. Jim made us some turkey and cheese sandwiches, mine with sprouts and Jim's with mayo. When we finished eating, I clued him in about the EVP and played the first word without telling him what it sounded like to me.

Jim's expression turned grim.

"'Abomination.' That was when?"

"I think right after we kissed and he made the tissues swirl up. And that's what I heard, too. I couldn't say for sure that it was William speaking, though, and there are some alternate theories for EVP, stray radio waves, that sort of thing."

"It sounds odd, kind of hollow and flat, but that's my dad's voice. I pushed up my hearing when you played it. Go on to the next one."

Jim listened and sighed. "He said, 'I failed you, Jimmy.'"

"I think, from what I saw on the cameras, that was when he was touching you."

"He was so sad, Blair. Was his image on the cameras?"

"Not that I could tell, but you should look at it, maybe you'll see something I missed."

"I'm not sure I want to see anything, but I'll give it a shot. Play the last one."

After I did, Jim rubbed his hands over his face. "He said, 'Leave him alone, sweetheart.'"

"That's what I heard, and on that last message he was talking to me, I'm pretty sure. He's so conflicted. We have to keep trying to get through to him, to help him."

Jim nodded, and finished the last of his beer. He held it out to me and asked, "Want another one?"

"Nah. I'm going to do some more research on how to help a soul pass on, and I'd better not do it with a beer buzz."

Getting up from the couch, I went into my old bedroom, which we'd outfitted now as a spare bedroom and office. I stripped the sheets, balled them up under my arm, and grabbed my laptop. Intending to put my laptop on the kitchen table and run the sheets downstairs to the washer, I changed course when I noticed Jim staring at my driving schedule, his new, unopened beer in his hand.

I moved next to him, and nudged him with my shoulder.

"I got the job. I do a run early Monday morning down to San Fran, and I should be back Wednesday morning. It's about a fourteen to fifteen hour drive, but I've got some down time I'll have to take. I'll be back for tutoring Wednesday afternoon and Thursday, and then I have a one day run on Friday."

He glanced at me and there it was again, that look that said something wasn't kosher in the land of Jim.

"Jim. What's up with you?"

"Other than my dad, nothing."

Uh-huh. "I call bullshit. It's something about me working. Is it me driving again? I promise you I'm fit. I've even got a doctor's statement to prove it."

"I'm not going to stand in your way about working, Blair. It's fine with me."

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm going to stick this laundry in the washer, and then I'm calling a conference. Something is bothering you, Jim, and we said we wouldn't let things fester between us."

"Jeez, Sandburg. It's nothing. I can deal with it, I did before." Jim looked petulant and sounded peeved.

"It's something. Hey, I changed my mind about the beer. Will you get me one while I run downstairs?"

I walked over to the kitchen table and dumped my laptop on top of it. Pointing towards the living room, I ordered, "Beer, couch. I'll be right back up and then we're going to talk. Partners, remember?"

He sighed and opened the fridge, and I headed downstairs.

xxx

Jim was picking at the label on his beer when I came and sat down next to him on the couch. I grabbed mine from the coffee table, took a swig, and then elbowed him.

"Okay, what is it that you think you're going to have to do again, the thing that's no big deal?"

"It won't be a problem. I'm not going to tie you to me." He took a swig of beer. "You remember what I told you I did to cope after you'd left?"

"Ahh?"

"So my senses wouldn't go haywire?"

I thought back. "You cut up my sheets and put them in plastic bags so my scent would be preserved."

"That, and I had some of your hair and I saved your answering machine voice message to listen to. Between that stuff and turning my senses way, way down, to the point that they weren't enhanced at all, I managed to not go bananas and end up back where I started when I first met you. So, we'll get you a cell phone with nationwide coverage, and we'll talk on your down time. I'll stuff a shirt you've worn in a bag and I won't change our sheets. I'll be fine."

"But will you turn down your senses?"

"I don't know if I'll need to turn them down or not. Guess I'll find out next week."

I eyed him. "And just how well are you coping on the job? Are you using them?"

"I'm using them, just not really pushing it. Not without you being there." He finished off his beer and put the empty bottle down.

"Jim, I might have to do cross-county runs occasionally."

He shrugged. "Cross that bridge when we come to it, Chief. I'm not saying this is what I prefer, but working apart is the hand that's been dealt to us."

"I don't like these cards. I want to ditch them and get some better ones. I want to work with you."

"Won't happen in Cascade, not at the P.D."

"We were a great team."

"That we were, Sandburg."

"I'd love to have that again."

"I don't see how, not with police work. And, Blair, I've been meaning to tell you that if you find a good job in another city, I'll move with you."

Horrified, I said, "Sell the loft and move? Jim, you already gave up your truck for me; I don't want you to lose your home and your job, too."

He shrugged. "I'm just not that attached to Major Crimes these days. I can probably find another position in a different police department."

I looked around at the loft. I had a home here.

Jim added, "And I want you to have a decent job that you like."

"Eventually, I'll find something in Cascade."

"It's not just about you. It's looking more and more that maybe moving would be a good idea for the both of us. I'm tired of the looks and comments at work, and every time the press comes sniffing around about a case I'm on, they bring back up Dad's death and us being together. By the way, there's going to be an article that mentions us again sometime this week."

"Huh? Why?"

"I was tipped off that it was going to be part of a larger series on Cops of the Year. A 'where are they now' sort of thing."

"Oh, swell. Okay, but later rather than sooner we'll become boring to the press. And yeah, I know Major Crimes has to be different with Simon and Rhonda and the guys I knew mostly gone, but you'll make connections with the new guys."

Jim shook his head. "Doesn't feel like it, Chief. I feel like I'm just putting in my time there. And you-"

"And me?"

"You said there was just too much damage done at Rainier for you to work there again. That's pretty much how it is anymore at the P.D."

He waggled a finger at me. "And just what do you think your mom would say about you holding onto material possessions?"

"Mom would tell me to go and meditate about it."

Jim waved a hand at the room. "I like living here, but that doesn't mean I can't let it go. Just like I did with Sweetheart when it meant keeping you safe."

I chewed on my lip, thinking. "Maybe I don't want to let it go. I mean, the loft was like my first real home."

Jim turned a little on the couch so his body was facing me. "I'm selling the house I grew up in, so I can understand that it's not easy to do, but you're home to me. I can let the loft go if it means us being happier together somewhere else."

"I should keep an open mind."

Jim's expression brightened. "And maybe we could move to the country. Wouldn't you like a garden, maybe some fruit trees? A shop where you could do welding projects, some of those arty things you've showed me pictures about? And I think I'd like to get into woodworking as a hobby. We could share shop space."

He put his arm around me and drew me next to him, kissed me. "I'll keep an open mind about staying or moving, too. And I think I'll be okay while you're on the road, but if I have problems I'll tell you, I promise."

Huh. I had never even considered moving out of Cascade, although some of the jobs I'd been applying for meant being gone for long stretches of time. And after what Jim just told me, I wasn't going to accept any job offers from those companies. I couldn't leave him for months at a time, not when he'd had sensory problems when I'd been gone for that miserable year. I should have remembered that when I was planning job strategies with Jack Kelso.

If I did broaden my job search outside of Cascade I'd increase my chances of getting a good job, one that I felt made a contribution to the universe. I should explore my feelings about that with meditation and with my counselor. Most of all, I wanted to be fair to Jim.

He said, "Hey, go do your research, and I'll watch the videos from last night, and then let's go down to the gym. Maybe watch a movie later on here at home so I can make out with you."

I looked around the loft, picturing it without Jim being here. Like that, it was just a space with four walls.

"Okay. As long as I can ogle your hot, sweaty body."

He got off the couch and pulled me up with one jerk.

"You've got a deal, Chief."

xxx