He had stretched out to grasp the door handle, ready to leave, when the soft sound of Jim's voice stopped him.  

"Don't."

One word.  How could one word stop him, when the dozens that had come before hadn't?

Sighing, Blair said, "Give me a reason, Jim.  Tell me why I should stay."

"I need you."

It sounded *real*, but the old adage "if it walks like a duck and sounds like a duck, it must be a duck" had never proven true as far as Jim Ellison was concerned.

Still facing the door, Blair asked, "Do you?  Do you really?"

"How can I prove it to you, when you won't even look at me?"  Blair felt the heat of Jim a moment before the other man wrapped his arms around his torso.  "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not some heartless bastard.  I need you, Blair, and I love you."  

The feel of Jim's breath against his newly shorn head was different, more hot and tickly than usual.  When he spoke again, the movement of his mouth caused goosebumps to rise along Blair's spine.  "I'm sorry that I lost my temper.  You're right - I don't have the right to tell you what to do, and my comments were out of line.  I think that your hair looks fine."

Suddenly, Blair couldn't contain his laughter; it bubbled out of him, taking on a slightly hysterical tinge.  

Jim released him and stepped back.

Leaning against the door weakly, Blair managed, "Oh man.  You think that this is about my hair?  Shit, I should be so lucky that my hair is my biggest problem."

"What are you talking about?  Blair.  Please turn around and look at me."  

With a defeated slump of his shoulders, Blair did as his lover asked. 

Gentle fingers hooked themselves under his chin, and forced him to look up,up,up into the clear blue eyes of his lover.  "Come on, Chief.  Talk to me, tell me what's wrong."

Stepping forward to embrace his lover, Blair asked, "How much time have you got, lover?  We could be here a while."

Kissing the top of Blair's head, Jim replied, "Forever.  For you, I have forever."