Room Enough

by Cori Lannam

It was late on Tuesday night, almost eleven o'clock, as the blue-and-white pickup made the left-hand turn onto Prospect. Detective Jim Ellison was tired, and his rear end was cold and sore from a week of sitting on damp rocks on the edge of a lake. Such discomfort was one of the normal hazards of a fishing trip, but it had never bothered him before. Usually he had his buddies with him to share the joy, which somehow made everything a little better.

He heaved a sigh and pounded on the steering wheel with the flat of his palm, impatient to be home. The time alone had been good, but after the first couple of days, he had found himself feeling almost too alone. He was used to constant company now, someone to laugh and talk with. He was used to Blair.

The thought of his lover and Guide made him feel warmer and, almost involuntarily, he speeded up. He slowed again when he remembered the circumstances of their parting. Okay, so it had probably been a mistake, saying what he said to Blair-and Simon, although he thought Simon could probably take it better. That was why he had tried so hard not to have to say anything at all, but just to slip away before they could ask him any questions. And it had almost worked, until they went and decided to track him down, anyway. They could hardly blame him for losing his temper, just a little bit. It was exasperating, after all, to have the very people you were trying to get away from banging on your door at some ungodly hour of the morning, especially when you had been sleeping on a musty old couch in the lobby of the inn.

Still, he hadn't meant what he said to them, especially not to Blair. Yeah, sure, the kid was in his face a lot about the Sentinel thing, but it was only because Blair was so damn committed to making sure Jim's senses stayed under control and that he could use them to their maximum capacity. It was just that Blair had always been so much more enthusiastic about the super-active senses than he was, and he was the one who had to live with them. He had accepted them, but he still didn't like them, and being constantly reminded about them even in the supposed sanctity and safety of his own home wore on his nerves, even if it was for his own good.

Blair would understand that. Probably already did, but Jim would explain again, anyway, as soon as he got home. Then they could snuggle down in the nice warm comforter and the nice soft pillows and Jim could finally get this chill out of his bones.

He pulled into the parking lot with a sigh of relief, setting the brakes and locking the doors as he climbed out of the truck. He grabbed his black duffel bag from the bed and headed for the stairs, more eager with every step to get home. Almost instinctively, he reached with his hearing to check for Blair's presence, and found it, although it sounded somehow different. Sensing no immediate danger, he put the oddness out of his mind until he unlocked his front door and stepped into the loft.

"Blair?" he called, dropping his bag under the coat hooks beside the door. "Hey, honey, I'm home."

There was no response, so Jim listened harder. He could still hear Blair's heartbeat and breathing, but now he focused on them and realized that Blair wasn't in the loft after all. He was under it.

A sudden shiver traveled through his limbs as he looked around the living room. Blair's masks and fetishes from the university were gone, as were the woven blankets on the couch. His feet propelled him forward against his will until he stood in front of the glass-paneled doors to Blair's room. He already knew what he would find-or not find-but his brain was demanding confirmation even as it replayed for him in stereo sound Blair's words from a week before.

"There's a room downstairs...if that wouldn't be too close...."

His hand reached for the doorknob and slowly twisted it. For an instant, he allowed himself to hope that Blair would be there, lying on his bed reading, oblivious to Jim's entry. His hearing was just a little out of whack after so many days away from his Guide, that was all it was....

The room was empty. Utterly bare and devoid of life. Everything that had marked Blair's occupancy was gone, leaving only the stripped mattress and plain wooden furniture.

Jim leaned against the doorjamb, his mind whirling. Blair had really done it. He had moved out, taken that open studio downstairs from the loft. It was completely inconceivable to Jim. Surely Blair had known that Jim didn't want him to leave? Jim loved Blair more than anything in the world. No minor irritations were going to change that. Hell, they'd been dealing with minor irritations since the day they met, and they'd still managed to fall in love. No way did Jim want Blair to leave. Of course Blair knew that.

But obviously Blair did not know that, and here was the proof. Jim groaned softly and closed his eyes, ruing his hasty words back at the inn. He vaguely remembered Simon, some weeks ago, mentioning Blair's insecurity over his place in the police department. "Demons in his head," Simon had called it. Jim had merely smiled benevolently and watched with pleasure as Blair and Simon had both made an effort to become closer and communicate better. Their trip up to Clayton Falls together had merely confirmed for Jim that all their problems had been ironed out. Yet apparently the station was not the only place where Blair felt insecure. He had called Blair's offer to move out emotional blackmail, a guilt trip to put Jim on the defensive; he had never sensed the true fears behind the words.

Fighting off a real guilt trip of monumental proportions, Jim allowed his annoyance to take center stage in his mind. One little remark and Blair just up and moved? He couldn't have even waited for Jim to come home so they could discuss this like two rational adults? He couldn't have even left a note? Jim pushed himself off the door frame and strode back toward the door, making a quick visual scan of the room to make sure he had not overlooked a note from Blair. When he didn't find one, he stormed out the door and down the stairs.

On the floor below the loft, one floor up from street level, the unused upper stories of the shops had been converted into studio apartments. Jim stalked down the narrow hallway, his hearing focused on each room in turn as he passed the door. At last he halted in front of number 209, hearing the familiar heartbeat and the pounding of Blair's beloved earth drums from within. Without pausing for any further confirmation that this was the right place, he lifted his fist and pounded on the door. "Sandburg!" he bellowed, heedless of the neighbors in his effort to be heard over the music.

Blair's sharp intake of breath was clearly audible just as the music was abruptly silenced. A moment of hesitation, then footsteps approached the door and Jim heard the click of the locks being turned. The door swung open slowly and there stood Blair, in study mode, complete with glasses and disheveled hair. The two men merely stared at each other for a long moment until Blair finally smiled sheepishly and broke the silence.

"Oh, hi, Jim. You got back early. I wasn't expecting you home 'til tomorrow."

Jim roughly pushed past him into the room, ignoring Blair's hasty retreat. "I said I'd be back to work tomorrow, Sandburg. Of course I was coming back tonight."

"Oh, sorry, I must have misheard you before," Blair muttered, staring at the floor. "I was going to sweep out my room upstairs and leave my keys for you before you got back, but I can do that-"

"Sandburg, what the hell were you thinking?" Jim interrupted, making a slow circle of the room. For a studio apartment, it wasn't bad. Large windows on one wall, a separate kitchen and bathroom. A full-sized mattress and boxsprings occupied one corner, while a couch blocked off the slight outward indentation in the windowed wall to make a small living area out of coffee table and TV stand. A tall, narrow bookcase stood against the wall to the left, shelves already crammed with books and journals, the overflow stuffed into boxes in front of it. More boxes took up most of the remaining floor space, making the area look much smaller than it actually was. "You can't live down here. This is ridiculous."

"Hey, this isn't so bad," Blair said defensively. "Sure, it's not as spacious as the loft, or my old place at the warehouse, but it's not bad digs for a starving grad student. It even came furnished and everything."

"That isn't the point, Chief," Jim retorted, knowing that the words were coming out harsher than he meant them to, but unable to suppress the anger welling inside him. "You already have a home."

Blair drew a deep breath. "Look, Jim, I know this is difficult, but it's for the best. Trust me."

"I do," Jim replied seriously, meeting Blair's gaze and holding it. "With my life. But you're wrong about this, Blair."

"No, man, I'm not," Blair insisted. "You were right, about what you said before. We both need our own space, and there just isn't room enough for both of us up there."

"That isn't what I said," Jim said. His anger began to dissipate, leaving him feeling more like a sad puppy dog begging for attention. "I just said I needed a few days to myself, that's all. I didn't want you to move out."

"I know, Jim, I know," Blair answered, waving his hands to emphasize his words. "But really, it'll work out better this way. We can each have our own private space and we can see each other when we want to, not because we don't have a choice. It'll be much better for our relationship, you'll see."

Jim felt at a loss for a reasonable argument that Blair would listen to. If Blair wanted it this way, how could he argue? "I don't know about this, Blair," he said slowly. "I liked things just fine the way they were."

"No, you didn't," Blair argued, shaking his head until his curls flew. "You were really irritated with me a week ago, and I totally understand why now. I mean, just look at that loft."

"What about it?" Jim asked. He had always thought the loft was pretty comfortable, even for two people.

"Well, think about it, man. You haven't got any private space. I mean, at least there are-were-doors on my room, but you haven't got any way to shut me out. It's gotta be even worse since we started, y'know...." Blair made a gesture in the air between them and Jim swallowed at the reference to their relatively recently begun love affair.

"Yeah, and what about that?" he asked, feeling almost shy.

Blair shrugged uncomfortably. "It doesn't really have to change. It's not like we're not going to be spending a lot of time together still. We'll still be together. Maybe even sleep over once in a while, but only if we both want to."

It was so perfectly logical and yet so perfectly horrifying that Jim had no idea what to say. He didn't want just a few short evenings a week with an occasional sleep over. He wanted Blair next to him all the time, his partner in everything. All the past week, he had not been able to stop thinking about how good it was to sleep in Blair's arms, missing the warm body of his lover wrapped around him. And now Blair wanted not just separate beds but separate apartments? When it had taken them so long to come together in the first place?

Absurd it was, but Jim nonetheless found himself reluctantly nodding. He didn't know if it was really what Blair wanted, or if Blair just wanted it because he thought it was what Jim wanted. And either way, he was a complete loss as to what to do about it.

Blair was smiling at him, taking his arm and pushing him to the door. "That's better. You'll see. This is going to be the best thing we ever did for our relationship. Now, go home. You must totally exhausted from the trip."

Jim nodded mutely again, suddenly feeling a hundred times more weary than he had ten minutes before. "Yeah, and it's back to the grind tomorrow."

"Right. Oh, before I forget, here's the keys to the loft back. I can just stop by tomorrow and finish dusting out my room." Blair dug his key ring out of his pocket and started to remove his loft keys from the others, but Jim quickly covered Blair's hand with his own, pushing both hand and keys away from him.

"No, you keep them. I still want you to be able to come and go whenever you want." He detected a slight look of relief in Blair's face, and inexplicably felt lighter himself because of it.

"Sure, man, no problem. I promise I won't abuse it."

Jim just shook his head as he turned to go. As if Blair could abuse the right to enter his own home. Because it was still Blair's home, even if he didn't want to call it that anymore for Jim's sake. "Good night, Chief."

"Night, Jim."

He trudged back up the stairs at a considerably slower pace than he'd come down them, still feeling numb and in disbelief over what had just happened. Reaching the loft door brought none of the same satisfaction it had earlier in the evening, when he had thought he was coming home to his lover. As the door closed behind him, Jim realized that he hadn't even kissed Blair. A week apart, and they hadn't even kissed hello or good night.

Jim leaned back against the door and surveyed the echoingly empty loft again.

He had never felt so alone.

Two a.m. Two a.m. on a Friday night, more specifically, which just made the fact that Jim was still tossing and turning restlessly all the more irritating. On a Friday night, he should either be sound asleep with the alarm turned off or have a damned good reason for being awake. This time he had neither of those consolations, and his insomnia was not helping his mood at all.

The week had actually been going fairly well. At the station on Wednesday everything had felt almost normal, with Sandburg by his side helping him with the paperwork that had somehow found its way to his desk while he'd been gone. They had gone out to dinner that night, talking as easily as ever, and later they had gone back to the loft and spent the next several hours in Jim's bed with very little talking at all.

Jim had been lying drowsy and content beside his lover when his peaceful reverie was disturbed by Blair slipping out of bed and dressing while trying not to make any noise. "Blair?" he had mumbled sleepily, and caught the guilty look Blair threw him.

"Sorry, man, didn't mean to disturb you," Blair said, almost in a whisper.

"You didn't disturb me," Jim replied, sitting up and running his hand through his mussed hair. "What are you doing?"

"Going home," Blair said. Jim stared at him in surprise, having momentarily forgotten their new living situation. Before he could protest that he wanted Blair to stay, Blair kissed him quickly on the lips and was gone. Jim sighed noisily and lay back, more frustrated than when they had gone to bed in the first place.

The exact same thing had happened on Thursday night, and by Friday, Jim had resolved to make a change in this out-of-kilter relationship. He was going to have to stop Blair from running out as if he thought Jim would throw him out if he didn't move quickly enough. This breathing room thing was getting out of hand, and Jim was tired of sleeping alone.

But trust Blair to complicate things yet again. He had left the station early saying something about a faculty meeting and calling Jim later. And like a pathetic loser, Jim had sat home waiting the entire evening for Blair to show up, or at least call. He felt stupid. There wasn't even anything on TV. Finally, he gave up and went to bed, feeling completely out of sorts and not knowing if he was more annoyed at Blair or himself.

Of course he couldn't sleep. His mind kept turning over and over, wondering how in the world they had gotten to this point when everything had been going so well. Sure, he needed space, everyone did. But why did Blair have to take it so personally, when everything else seemed to bounce right off him, no matter what anyone said to him? It wasn't as if Jim hadn't shown Blair dozens of times in a dozen different ways that he wanted Blair with him. One memory in particular kept coming back to him, a night just a few months ago.

Blair was downstairs grading papers. They had only been lovers for a couple of weeks, but already Jim was used to having his arms around Blair, the other man's slow breathing soothing him into sleep. Blair had been staying with him almost every night after they made love, but tonight he had an enormous stack of midterms to grade for one of his classes, and so had gone back downstairs to work. Jim listened to the scratch of the pen over the blue booklets for a while, trying to tune in to his lover's movements. Sleep was elusive. Every time he started to drift off, he would reach for Blair and start back awake when he found him missing. Eventually he focused his hearing on Blair's heartbeat and breathing, until it was almost as if Blair were beside him....

"Jim? Jim!" It was his Guide's voice penetrating his daze, a daze he didn't even remember going into. "Jim, man, come on. Come back to me."

"Chief?" he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Blair sat on the bed next to him in t-shirt and boxers, watching him with a worried gaze. "What time is it?"

"After three," Blair replied, reaching out to touch Jim's face lightly. "You were totally zoned, man. What the hell happened?"

Jim shook his head, puzzled for a moment. What could he have possibly zoned on while lying in bed? He felt himself begin to blush when the answer hit him. Blair was still looking at him questioningly, and Jim knew he couldn't get away with lying about it. "I, uh, zoned on you."

"On me? But I was downstairs."

"Yeah, I know, but I was listening to your heartbeat, and to your breathing." It seemed silly now that he was saying it out loud, and the incredulous look on Blair's face was not helping matters any. Defensively, Jim added, "I missed you."

Blair was shaking his head, but the huge smile on his face belied any reproof. "I missed you, too. But, man, next time you miss me, just come downstairs and cuddle or something. Don't freak me out like that again."

Jim smiled back and pulled Blair into his arms, drawing the comforter over them as they settled in. "Okay, lover, I promise."

And Jim had taken him up on that, more than once.

Sounds from Blair's apartment suddenly caught his attention, and Jim focused his hearing downstairs. Blair was finally home, muttering something indistinct to himself as he dumped his backpack and took off his jacket. Jim heard him stop for a moment, say something about the middle of the night, and then sigh sadly. A wave of warmth traveled through Jim's stomach; he instinctively knew that Blair had wanted to come to him, but thought it was too late. He listened as Blair washed up and climbed into bed, and listened as Blair tossed and turned, as restless as Jim was himself.

He didn't even realize he had made a decision until he was on his feet and reaching for his robe, and the tube of gel stashed in the nightstand drawer. Well, Blair had made the offer himself, after all. He padded quickly down the stairs, shoving his keys into the pocket of his robe as he went out the front door. Moments later he was standing in front of Blair's door and knocking for only the second time that week.

Bare feet padded over the wooden floorboards just before the door opened. "Jim?" Blair said in surprise. "I didn't think you'd still be up."

"Sandburg, do you remember that time I zoned out, and you told me I should just come down and cuddle if I missed you?" Jim said without preamble.

Blair's face was carefully blank, except for the quick swallowing and the sudden spark in his eyes. "Yeah, Jim, I remember that."

"Well," Jim said, looking into his eyes and moving a step closer. "I miss you now."

"You want to cuddle?" Blair asked, moving forward to stand so close Jim could feel the heat radiating from his body even under the t-shirt and boxers Blair wore.

"Actually," Jim said, lifting his hand to gently brush his fingers over Blair's lips, "I had something a little more...involved in mind."

"Sounds good to me," Blair murmured. He tilted his face upward and closed his eyes as Jim bent to kiss him, softly moving his mouth over Blair's full lips. Jim wrapped his arms around his beloved friend as they kissed, gently maneuvering them both into the room so Blair could push the door closed behind them. He started to move them toward the bed in the corner, but after only one step felt his leg hit the corner of a box. Breaking off their kiss, he lifted his head to glance around the moonlit room. Blair followed his gaze, flushing and laughing a little at the maze of boxes, most half-unpacked, around the room. "I haven't quite gotten around to finding places for everything yet."

"Good," Jim muttered, burying his face in the crook of Blair's neck and kissing the soft skin there. "Don't get too comfortable down here."

Blair didn't answer, whether from avoidance of the issue or because he was too busy sighing at the feeling of Jim's lips on his skin, it was not clear. Jim didn't particularly care at that point; he was too busy indulging himself in the salty-sweet taste of his lover. He hadn't even realized how much he craved this contact until he experienced it again. When he felt Blair's growing erection pressing against his abdomen, he forced himself to pull away again.

"At least the bed doesn't have boxes on it," he joked, taking Blair's hand and pulling him gently toward the inviting pile of pillows and comforters on the bed in the corner.

Blair followed him eagerly, but stopped him as they reached the edge of the bed. Slender fingers reached for the belt of his robe and untied it while firmly caressing Jim's stomach. The robe fell open, exposing Jim's upper body to the coolness of the air and the heat of Blair's gaze. Blair took in every inch of exposed flesh with a look of ravenous hunger in his eyes, pushing the robe off Jim's shoulders to reveal more of his body. Jim swallowed, feeling his cock begin to swell against the confinement of his boxers. The boxers ceased to be a problem a moment later as Blair hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down in one smooth motion. Jim kicked them away, then attacked his lover's clothing, removing everything with efficiency that would have made any drill sergeant proud.

When Blair was finally naked, Jim could not take his eyes from his lover's body. He thought he could never get enough of just looking at the perfectly proportioned physique or Blair's beautiful face, except that touching him was even more exciting. His hands went to Blair's hips, moving in easy circles over the smooth skin and muscle, then gripped firmly to move Blair onto the bed. Blair lay back against the pile of soft brocaded pillows and Jim moved beside him, leaning over Blair so that he could bend his head and resume his thorough exploration with fingers and mouth. Blair's flesh was so warm and soft beneath his lips, and trembled so erotically at the touch of his hands. Jim kissed and stroked his way along Blair's chest and sides, his own arousal growing as he watched Blair's cock thicken and rise.

He concentrated on stimulating every inch of Blair's body, driving him as mad with desire as Jim felt himself. His lover arched into his touch, hands absently stroking whatever part of Jim he could reach. Blair's moans filled Jim's ears and shivered along his skin, eliciting a moan from his own mouth, open and pressed against Blair's stomach. He moved down over one hip, nipping at the soft skin there, and down to Blair's thighs, sliding one hand between them. Blair responded to the silent urging by parting his legs, giving Jim access to the tender flesh of his inner thighs. Jim kissed each leg lovingly, then stroked his tongue along the delicate balls, feeling Blair's resultant shudder vibrate through his own body. Blair was clutching at the sheets, his breathing quick and ragged, and when Jim's lips brushed again his cock, Blair whimpered and threw his head back against the pillows. Jim licked at Blair's straining organ for a moment, tasting the wetness at the tip as he sucked the head briefly into his mouth before releasing it and moving away.

Blair cried out in protest as Jim's touch left him, turning his head to see Jim settling at his side. Jim reached over to press against his shoulder, preventing him from turning over to reach for Jim. He lifted himself to straddle Blair until his body lay full-length along Blair's, but kept himself barely an inch above his lover, trembling with the effort of the separation.

"How do you feel, baby?" he whispered hoarsely against Blair's ear. "Do you want more?"

"God, yes," Blair answered breathlessly, but kept his hands clenched at his sides until Jim slowly lowered his body onto Blair's.

Pure ecstasy and a sweet comfort filled him as Jim's body finally came into full contact with his lover's, heated flesh sliding together and creating a rush of sensation that brought Jim to an aching hardness. He groaned from deep within his throat, burying his face against Blair's shoulder as he rubbed against his lover's body. Blair's arms came up to cradle him, pulling him even tighter against Blair's shaking body.

Jim managed to bring his arousal under control and kissed Blair hard. "Turn onto your side, baby," he said against Blair's mouth. "I'll be right there." As Blair rolled over, Jim sat up and reached for his discarded robe, retrieving the lubricant he had brought with him. He turned back to lie behind Blair, squeezing some lubricant onto his fingers. He stroked the cool gel onto his throbbing cock until it was slick and wet, then slid his fingers between Blair's buttocks. Blair jerked in response and moved his left leg forward to give Jim greater access to the sensitive area. Jim caressed the area just behind his balls until Blair was shivering again, then gently worked two fingers into the tight entrance to Blair's body. Blair moaned and clenched around him, and Jim gasped at the silky walls around his fingers.

Pulling his fingers out as quickly as he could, Jim moved up behind Blair until he was pressed against his friend's back, cock rubbing enticingly at the cleft of Blair's buttocks. He wrapped one arm around Blair's waist, gripping his cock with the other hand to guide himself to Blair's entrance and throwing one leg over Blair's hips. Once he was situated, he wrapped the other arm around Blair, then rocked forward gently to begin pressing inward. Blair covered Jim's hands with his own, pushing back to encourage the slow penetration. They continued rocking back and forth, their rhythm growing more urgent as Jim pushed deeper inside of Blair. He thrust harder each time until at last his cock was fully sheathed in the soft, welcoming passage.

Blair was moaning continuously now, circling his hips in a motion that was driving Jim mad. He began rocking faster, thrusting into Blair until his partner was practically convulsing with each movement and he knew he was hitting the right spot. Blair took one of their clasped hands and moved it down to his own cock, and Jim wrapped his hand around the stiff member. He let Blair's hand guide his strokes as he continued pumping into the other man from behind. The pressure in his groin grew until he was biting into Blair's shoulder to muffle his own cries, unable to hold back his need any longer. Blindly, desperately, he thrust as hard as he could into the warm body in his arms and let the pleasure wash over him with relief.

He kept thrusting slowly into Blair even as the last spurts of his orgasm left him, stimulating his lover with hand and cock until he sensed Blair approaching the edge of his own climax. Blair's erection swelled to an impossible hardness in his grip, and Jim gave him one last hard stroke before Blair jerked in his arms and spilled his hot seed over the rumpled sheets. They kept moving for a few moments longer, milking as much pleasure as possible from their sensitized bodies until they succumbed to the languid afterglow. Jim kissed Blair's neck and ear as he withdrew, feeling so grateful to be holding this precious being in his arms that he might have cried if he had had more energy.

"You are just incredible, Blair," he mumbled into his lover's damp hair. "So perfect."

"Love you," Blair breathed softly, then hesitated. "Stay with me tonight?"

Jim smiled and drew the comforter around them, snuggling contentedly against Blair. "Of course I'll stay. Thought you'd never ask."

Jim hated it when he got the words to goofy pop songs from the Seventies stuck in his head, but even he had to admit this one was pretty appropriate for the circumstances. "Another Saturday night, and I ain't got nobody," he hummed morosely under his breath. "I'm in an awful way...."

This was really getting ridiculous. He had a lover, for God's sake, a lover he was totally devoted and committed to, despite their recent disagreements. A lover whose company he generally enjoyed, and craved more often than not when they were apart.

A lover who was currently sitting downstairs studying in his tiny apartment so as not to disturb Jim's weekend downtime.

They had spent most of the day together, waking up to make love again in the morning, then going out to eat and talking about nothing for most of the afternoon. Jim was feeling relaxed and happy, confident that all this separation rigmarole was coming to an end at last. Until they had come back to the building and Blair had headed for his own place, citing a journal article he had to turn in by Tuesday. Jim had protested that Blair should just bring his computer upstairs so they could be together, but Blair had merely smiled and kissed him briefly.

"This is going so well, Jim, I don't want to ruin it. Getting some breathing room for our separate pursuits is the best thing we ever did. Look how well we're getting along."

He had disappeared into his room before Jim could find the words to tell Blair just how monumentally not well this was really going. So he merely shook his head and climbed the stairs to his empty, silent loft. He desperately wanted Blair's company, but he'd be damned if he'd be the one to make the first move this time. Blair was no shy, timid flower, even if he'd been acting like it lately. He could very well come to Jim this time.

Jim went up to his room and browsed over the selection on his bookshelf. Maybe his reading material was not quite of the intellectual depth of his former roommate's, but he thought he did well enough. Certainly he was intelligent enough to keep himself occupied for an evening without company. He'd done it for years before Blair came into his life, after all, and he could do it again. If Blair wanted them to have separate pursuits, Jim could play that game, too.

The living room was warm and cozy, even without Blair. Jim settled into the sofa, opening up a thick paperback he had been meaning to read ever since Carolyn had recommended the author to him three years before. A light spring rain was falling outside, and Jim opened himself to the fresh scent of it. And if he extended his hearing just a little bit, he could hear the rustle of books and the clicking of a laptop keyboard. He smiled. Just like home. And without the irritating chatter.

All in all, it wasn't bad, and if his concentration was more on things going on outside the loft than in his book, well, that wasn't so bad either. The novel was not one of Carolyn's better recommendations, anyway. He tried to remember if she had been mad at him when she told him about it, but was distracted by the sound of frustrated sighs from downstairs. The sighs were followed by a rapid tapping, like a pencil against the cover of a book, which was followed in turn by the sound of restless pacing. Then Blair muttered something softly, and Jim sharpened his hearing just in time to catch his own name.

Jim smiled smugly. So. His little lost lamb missed him. How sweet. He almost wished he could call Blair and let him know just how well Jim was getting on without him, but he figured that might nullify the whole point of the endeavor. It didn't matter. He would just keep his distance as Blair had insisted and make like he was thoroughly enjoying his breathing room, and then see how long Blair lasted before he came running back to Jim. The process was at work even now, as Blair gave up on studying and flung himself onto his bed for a nap.

The book seemed a little more interesting now and, with the sound of Blair's quieting breathing as background, Jim got into the plot. He'd find out tomorrow if Blair had read it, and if he had, they could discuss it. Blair's insights always made books seem more interesting to Jim, and it would be a nice way to spend some quality time together. He was nearly a third of the way through when he heard the first strange creaking noises coming from right outside Blair's apartment-on the outside of the building. Curious, but not yet alarmed, he listened closely as the creaking noises turned to scraping and scratching noises. Full alarm set in when he heard the shattering of glass and Blair's gasp of surprise as he was awakened.

Five seconds was sufficient for Jim to grab his gun and be out the front door, ten more to pound down the stairs and arrive at Blair's door. He heard Blair's shouts of outrage choked off, followed by a hard thud and the crash of what must have been the bookcase falling over. A surge of fear-driven adrenaline allowed Jim to bypass the normal means of entry and simply smash the door out of its casing. He stumbled into the darkened room, immediately adjusting his sight enough to see Blair struggling with a man in black clothes and a ski mask. Blair was clearly getting the worst of the battle, and as they turned toward Jim, he could see the gleam of the knife that Blair was frantically trying to keep away from his throat.

"Freeze! Cascade P.D.!" Jim shouted automatically, lifting his gun to aim at the intruder. He couldn't get a clear shot with Blair in the way, but his sudden entry and shout distracted the burglar enough for Blair to shove the hand holding the knife away from his throat and elbow his attacker hard in the stomach. The man yelped and lost his grip on the squirming Blair, who ducked away quickly. Jim ran forward to grab the intruder, but the man took one look at the furious cop and made a desperate leap for the broken window through which he had entered. Jim followed, but was hindered by the couch just long enough for the fleeing burglar to slide down the drainpipe next to the window and vanish into the night.

For a moment he considered following, but Blair was pressed against the wall behind him, trembling in the aftermath of the fight. His need to comfort his lover was far greater than his need to catch the criminal, so he turned away from the window and crossed the room in three strides to take Blair into his arms. His friend clung to his shoulders for a moment, before visibly pulling himself together and chuckling shakily.

"Man, now that was not the kind of guest I usually invite over to these Saturday night bashes."

"Bash is right, Chief," Jim said hoarsely, feeling his own heart still pounding from the rapid action and rush of fear. "That window is done for, and I didn't realize how dangerous it is with that drainpipe by the window like that. You can't stay here."

Blair pulled himself away and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "Yeah, I know, man. I'll just grab a change of clothes and crash with you 'til I can get this window and the door fixed, if that's okay."

"No, Chief, that's not what I meant," Jim said, shaking his head firmly. "You can't live here anymore, period. You're coming back upstairs with me tonight, and then tomorrow we're moving all your stuff back up, too."

"Jim, no," Blair started to protest. "I know you don't really want me up there all the time-"

"Blair, listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once," Jim responded, gripping Blair's shoulders and shaking him slightly to get his full attention. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I like being around you, and I like having you live with me. I even miss you when you're not there. Yes, I get irritated sometimes by all the Sentinel testing, but it's the Sentinel thing, not you. And sure I need some time to myself every now and then, but everyone does. It's not abnormal and it's not a bad thing. I'll tell you when I need it. You don't have to constantly be worried about whether you're annoying me by your presence."

Blair merely blinked at him, stunned into silence by the speech. "Jim," he managed to stammer confusedly.

Jim bent and silenced him with a soft brush of his lips. "Just come home, Chief," he murmured, pulling Blair back into his arms and burying his face in the curls by Blair's ear. "Please. There's room enough for both of us."

A tremendous feeling of relief flooded through him as he felt Blair nod silently against his chest, and he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding.

He managed to let Blair out of his embrace and watched his roommate flick on the light so he could see enough to gather the essentials he needed for the morning. His gaze drifted to the shattered window, idly thinking that the obvious lack of security and the current inhabitability of the room was definitely grounds for breaking the lease. He'd talk to the landlady tomorrow, after they finished moving Blair back home. In the meantime, he pulled the sheet from Blair's bed, securing it over the window with a roll of masking tape he found on top of a still-packed box.

"Okay, I'm ready," Blair announced, standing by the door with his backpack over one shoulder and a pile of clothes in his arms. "You think everything will be okay here overnight?"

"Yeah, sure," Jim said. "I doubt anyone else will be climbing that drainpipe tonight. Come on, Chief, let's go home. I've got a big adrenaline rush to work off."

Blair returned his lascivious grin with a leer of his own as Jim slung an arm around his shoulders and together they headed home.

END