Blair pulled out his laptop and set it on the desk, thinking about
the ungodly backlog of e-mail that was probably sending messages
bouncing every which way but loose into cyberspace.  He flipped up
the top and froze, then let out a disheartened curse.  The screen sported
a large diagonal crack.

     "Blair?"  Hutch tapped on the partially open bedroom door and
stepped inside.  "You want to grab something to eat?  Starsk took the
Torino in to get some work done on it, so we'd even get to pick the
restaurant."

     "Yeah, sounds great," Blair said, really wanting to go to lunch
but his voice still holding his discouragement about his damaged
computer.

     "I can tell," Hutch responded, laughing.  "We can wait for your
dad if you want and go out for dinner."

     "No, no, it's not that.  I want to go.  My laptop's all fucked up."

     "Damn, you're not kidding.  How did that happen?"

     "I don't know if it's from when it was packed, or when I moved
it, or from the trip out here.  I know I dropped a couple boxes when I
was loading the truck.  I was getting sick and I think I was pretty weak,
and I lost my grip on a couple of the big ones.  I think this was
probably in one of those."

     "Try starting it up."  Blair followed the instruction, and the
computer seemed to launch normally, but the screen was totally black. 
"Sounds like the hard drive's okay, but I can't see anything."

     "Come on.  We'll try hooking it up to the monitor in the den."

     Upon hooking the computer to the monitor in the den, both men
were relieved to see it spring to life, and Blair sighed hugely with relief
when he found his files were recoverable.  

     "This thing's got memory we won't live long enough to use,"
Hutch said of their home computer.  "Why don't you make a set of
folders on here and back up your stuff before we take this in, huh?"

     "You sure you don't mind me hogging up all those megs?"  Blair
was already starting on the project.

     "Nope.  Just hog them fast because I'm hungry.  We'll take the
carcass with us and see what repairing it would involve."

     After Blair finished backing up his data on the computer in the
den, both men headed out for one of Hutch's favorite restaurants,
known for its gourmet salads and creative, healthy cooking.  The decor
featured lots of green plants, bamboo and rattan furniture and ceiling
fans.  

     "Anything special wrong with the Torino?"  Blair asked,
digging in to the huge, chicken-garnished salad he'd chosen.  

     "Your father heard a noise."  Hutch paused and rolled his eyes. 
"All that actually means is about a $250 garage bill, an increase in the
mechanic's blood pressure, and three to four hours of Starsky's time
incurring all that damage."

     "It's an old car.  They make noises."

     "Thank you.  Tell that to your father.  I think he expects that
thing to sound like it did when it rolled off the showroom floor," Hutch
commented, laughing.  

     "You're not big on cars, I take it."

     "They're not a priority, let's put it that way.  If they get from
point A to point B, that's all I care.  Plus, it was such a big thing in my
family--the whole *status* issue--really turned my stomach on the
whole 'conspicuous consumption' aspect of car ownership."

     "Sounds like your background is kind of similar to Jim's."

     "Fortunately, Jim seems to have a good relationship with his
father now."

     "They're working on it.  I take it you didn't?"

     "Well, when he found out I was in love with Starsky, his
response was that I was welcome to visit provided I didn't bring my
boyfriend and humiliate him in front of his friends."  Hutch worked on
another bite of his salad.  "I didn't go back home until I went for his
funeral.  You want to know the worst part?  I don't regret that, either."

     "He drew some pretty stiff battle lines by insisting you leave
your life partner home when you visited.  Still, it's sad you had to miss
out on spending any time with him."

     "If I had, it would have been the first time we'd spent together
in our lives.  I think Jim's and my father did have that in common--work 
was everything, and family was somewhere down there under the
'other' category.  It sure wasn't a priority, unless he was riding my back
for something I was or wasn't doing."

     "How did your mom take all of that?"

     "Badly.  She came out to visit us a few times, and we stayed
with my sister in Minnesota several different Christmases.  It worked
out pretty well, because my mother could visit us at my sister's, and my
sister could go spend part of the holiday with both of our parents and
leave us at her place."

     "What a strain," Blair said, shaking his head.  "I've really
appreciated the way Jim's dad and brother have treated me.  I mean, I
know it's still hard for Bill to get used to, but he's been very nice to me
right from the start.  Steven never really was anything but polite.  We
haven't spent much time together, but most of my nervousness about
being around them has been in my own head, not something they tried
to make me feel."

     "That *is* lucky."  Hutch ate in silence a few minutes, then
added, "I've really had some good visits with my mother since my
father passed away.  We've spent a few long vacations there with her--
she adopted Starsk as a second son almost immediately anyway.  She
never held the whole thing against us the way my father did."

     "I know history is destined to repeat itself.  I feel so badly about
not making the trip in December with my dad.  There were just so
many things..."

     "We were sort of tied up too, with retirement and all the usual
crap and paperwork that comes with it.  Starsk flew out there and spent
a few days with his mother while I was in Minnesota, then he joined
me there.  Next special occasion, we're doing something--all of us. 
You'll either come with us or we'll come to you."  Hutch frowned in
concentration a moment.  "You have a birthday coming up, don't you?"

     "Yeah, in a couple days."

     "Hey, we have a special occasion, and you're here, so that
works."

     After finishing their lunch, they drove to the nearest computer
store and took the carcass of the laptop in to the service counter.  After
assessing the damage, the young technician with the dark hair and
small wire glasses wrote up an estimate for the repair and showed it to
Blair.  

     "My advice would be junk it and get a new one.  You're pretty
outdated with this one anyway--it's bulky and it needs some major
memory upgrading."

     "Yeah, well, I don't think I can go ahead with either one right
now," Blair said.  "But thanks anyway."

     "Why don't you show us what you've got for laptops," Hutch
spoke up.

     "There's no point. I ca--"

     "Let's just take a look at what they've got.  Get some prices,"
Hutch interjected.

     The man behind the counter joined them and led the way to a
shelf displaying about eight different models of laptop computers.  He
went through a litany of technical jargon about each machine, all of
which Blair took in with the sort of sad interest of someone who
desperately wants something but would have to mortgage a major
organ to own it.

     "This seems to be about the best one," Hutch said, picking out
the model he'd watched Blair almost visibly drool over as it was
described.  It was a very thin, lightweight notebook model that sported
state of the art memory and processor speed, not to mention an
impressive list of complimentary software.  

     "Yeah, you're right.  It's really something."  Blair looked at the
computer, then averted his eyes from it to the store employee.  "At least
I know the price ranges and stuff now.  Thanks," Blair said.  The young
man looked almost as disheartened as Blair himself did.  His big fish of
the day was getting away without a sale.

     "You have one of those in stock?"  Hutch asked.  With renewed
enthusiasm, the man went back behind his counter and looked up the
stock number on the computer.  

     "Yes, sir.  We have a couple in the stock room."

     "We'll decide on that one, then."

     "Hutch--"

     "I've been looking for a laptop to take with me to seminars. 
That one'll do nicely," Hutch retorted, which stifled Blair's objections,
and left him looking grimmer than he had when he came in.  Not
getting a replacement for his computer was discouraging enough. 
Riding home in the same car with the laptop of his dreams was right up
there with bamboo shoots under the fingernails.  

     "Yeah, it's a nice one," he said, managing to recover and
deciding he could be mature enough not to pout like a disappointed
five-year-old.

     The carton was loaded carefully onto the back seat of Hutch's
old Ford, and the two men left the parking lot.  Hutch turned a different
direction that toward the route home, but Blair didn't raise any
questions.  He was enjoying the outing, it was a beautiful day, and he
chalked it up to Hutch having more errands to run.  He was surprised
when the car headed up a familiar country road, and then turned off
and parked.  They were at the beginning of the trail that led up to the
spot where Naomi's ashes had been scattered, and where the plaque
bearing her name still rested beneath her favorite tree.

     "I thought you might like to make a visit.  I'll drive you to the
shortcut if you want to go up.  I don't think you should hike all the way
up there in the heat just yet."

     "I'd really like that," Blair said, smiling.  Hutch drove around to
the nearby park which was adjacent to the secluded little picnic spot. 
The trail there was much shorter, more direct, and not nearly as steep. 
It was the route the nurse had used to wheel Harold to Naomi's service
while he was still recovering from his heart attack.  

     "You want some time alone?"  Hutch asked.

     "I think I would.  Do you mind?"

     "No, not at all.  Take your time."  

     "Thanks."  Blair got out of the car and headed up for the little
spot he'd visited quite often as a child.  In a way he was grateful to have
avoided the piercing nostalgia of walking the same trail he usually took
back then, hiking through the trees with Naomi...the route he'd walked
with his family and friends the day of her service.  

     The breeze rustled the leaves of the big tree that shaded the
rock bearing Naomi's plaque, the bronze of which glinted in the
afternoon sun.  Not having flowers with him, Blair diligently gathered
some clover, then sat on the ground near the stone, and began working
at weaving the little wildflowers into a necklace, the way Naomi had
taught him when he was little.  He felt the lump rise in his throat, and
tears burning his eyes, but he didn't worry about stopping the feeling. 
He cried silently while he made the little wreath of flowers and then
placed it carefully around the plaque.

     "Oh, Mom, I miss you so much," he said, his voice coming out
in a ragged whisper.  "I know we weren't together a lot, but I just...I just
wish I could see you, talk to you...  You'd say something that would
make me feel better."  Blair laughed through his tears.  "Maybe just
cook me some tongue or something."  He wiped at his eyes.  "What am
I gonna do, Mom?"  he asked the bronze name, knowing it couldn't
speak, couldn't help.  "I love Jim so much.  This is like a nightmare and
I can't wake up.  I wanna wake up and find out that everything that
happened from before I lost you until now was just a bad dream.  Wake
me up, Mama, I don't wanna live through this anymore," Blair sobbed,
running his hand over the letters.  "What am I gonna do?"  he moaned
again, miserably, his breath hitching until he coughed raucously.

     He forced himself to close his eyes, to try to listen with his
heart, the way Naomi taught him.  When he'd lost a childhood friend,
Naomi had taken him to the cemetery, done her best to explain what
death was all about to a six-year-old little boy who only knew he'd lost
a playmate. While they looked down at the cold, gray stone, Naomi had
told him that it was good to talk to his friend, but that he also had to
listen--and listen with his heart, not his ears, because it was in his heart
where he'd hear Danny talking.  

     "Talk to me!!"  he shouted at the plaque, opening his eyes, still
crying.  "Why won't you talk to me?!"

     "Blair," Hutch's voice startled him from behind.  The older man
knelt behind where Blair was crouched by the stone.  "I was
worried...you were gone a long time.  I can go back down..."

     "She told me...that if I listened...with my heart...I could still
hear...somebody I loved... even when they were dead.  Why won't she
talk to me?"  Blair sobbed brokenly.

     "Maybe your heart hurts a little too much to listen right now." 
Hutch put his arm around Blair's shoulders.  "It's very fresh, Blair.  I
know it's been several months now, but it was traumatic and you've
been through a lot."

     "I'm not over it.  Why can't I get over it?" Blair asked, still
crying, unable to rein in his emotions despite his best efforts.  Hutch
pulled him into a hug.  

     "Because it doesn't work that way," he replied gently. 
"Whenever I've lost someone I loved, I never 'got over it'.  When I think
about those losses, even now, they still hurt.  Kind of like an old
gunshot wound.  It heals, it closes, eventually all that's there is a scar. 
But it can still ache if the conditions are right."

     "I'm a mess," Blair said, sniffling, but still fighting new tears.  

     "Shhh.  It's okay.  You're no more messed up than anybody else. 
The violent sudden death of a loved one followed by an upheaval in
your major life relationship is bound to stretch you until you snap.  You
even threw in a near death experience and pneumonia."

     "I always...was...big on multitasking," Blair managed.  

     "Trust me, that catches up with you," Hutch responded,
laughing.  "Let it catch up with you and deal with it.  That's why you're
here with us.  To heal up--not just your body but your mind and your
spirit.  Just like your lungs needed to get the impurities out and heal up,
your soul needs that too."

     "I'm sorry I was up here so long," Blair said, pulling back,
wiping at his eyes.  

     "Not a problem.  I just wanted to be sure you were okay.  You
want to spend some more time here?"

     "I'm ready to go.  Thanks for coming up...I'm glad you did,"
Blair admitted.

     "Me too, kid.  Come on, let's head for home before Starsk gets
back and thinks we're out having a good time without him."

     "Can't have that," Blair said, walking along the path next to
Hutch.  They got back in the car and headed toward home.  

     "Any other stops you need to make?"

     "No, I'm all set," Blair said, smiling.  "Thanks for everything." 
Hutch just smiled, then Blair added, "Hey, lunch was great.  Thanks for
introducing me to that place."

     "My pleasure.  I can never drag Starsky in there.  He says that
there are too many plants and it reminds him of the 'Little Shop of
Horrors'."

     "He's got the culinary tastes Jim does.  Too many leaves make
him nervous," Blair added, chortling.  

     Hutch parked the car in the driveway, out of the probable path
of the soon-to-be oncoming Torino which was expected momentarily. 
Once out of the car, he took the carton containing the coveted laptop
off the backseat.  

     "Blair--you think you got your strength back now?"  he asked.

     "Oh, sure.  I can carry that in if you want."  He managed to
accept the carton with a slight smile, even though he was fighting what
he considered a childish jealousy, wishing it was his.  As miserable as
he felt about everything else, this little disappointment was minor, and
after all, he really wouldn't have wanted to take such a huge gift
anyway.

     "Happy Birthday, kid."

     "What?"  Blair gaped at Hutch, speechless.

     "I said, 'happy birthday'.  It's yours.  Go play with your new toy."

     "I can't accept this.  It's too much."

     "No big deal.  I had a seminar honorarium burning a hole in my
pocket anyway," he said, chuckling.

     "But you're re-doing the yard--you need that money."

     "Something tells me you'll get more hours of use from that
computer than I'll get out of an ornamental plum tree.  Go on, Blair. 
Take it and enjoy it.  You're Starsky's kid--you're family.  I want to do
it."  He patted Blair's shoulder.  "I'll be insulted if you turn it down," he
added.

     "We can't have that, can we?"  Blair said, a huge grin
threatening to split his face in half.  

     "Absolutely not."

     "I don't know how to thank you.  I mean, I use this all the time
and mine's *dead*, and I can't replace it.  This is like, a *miracle*."

     "Not a miracle, just MasterCard," Hutch retorted, following
Blair into the house.  "I've got a separate phone line in the den--I'm
going to make some calls.  Feel free to go online and enjoy for a
while."

     "Thanks, Hutch.  This really means a lot to me."  Blair said,
pausing in the doorway of his room with the box.  The smile he got in
return said the older man knew it meant more than the computer. 
Hutch had adopted him as family as much as if he were his own son.  

     "I know it does.  Have fun," he said, before turning and heading
into the den to make his calls.  

********

     Feeling positive about things for the first time in weeks now,
Jim made his way down the hall toward the loft door, carrying a bag of
goodies from WonderBurger.  Blair hadn't exactly promised to be on
the next plane home or anything, and they still had a ways to go, but
there was hope, and just hearing Blair's voice, along with those "three
little words" had given him the boost he needed to keep going.  With
evening flight reservations to Sierra Verde, Jim just had time to grab
some dinner, pack a bag and head to the airport.  

     He turned the key in the lock and froze.  Someone...
some*thing* was on the other side of the barrier, inside the apartment. 
Setting the bag of takeouts on the floor, he drew his weapon and then
burst inside, aiming it in every visible direction.  A loud, low growl
came from the loft bedroom.  Moving carefully up the stairs, his back
against the brick wall, Jim kept the gun close to his body, ready to
spring forward and aim it at whatever lay in the bedroom.  As he
reached the loft, he saw the source of the growls.  

     A long, sleek, spotted jaguar rested on *Blair's* side of the bed,
its tail moving lazily over the blue comforter.  It growled again, then
stood and stared intently toward Jim.  

     "Not again..."  Jim muttered to himself, blinking rapidly, trying
to make the spotted cat disappear.  With a loud snarl, it sprang, and Jim
fired.

     The jaguar disappeared, and there was a bullet hole in the wall
next to the bed.  Jim leaned heavily against the wall behind him,
wiping the sweat off his face with his left hand, the useless gun still
hanging from his right.  There was probably an even deeper meaning to
the vision, but one thing Jim knew now for sure: Alex Barnes was no
longer catatonic, and she was no longer in Sierra Verde.  

     He went back downstairs, retrieved his food out of the hallway,
and locked the front door.  Picking up the phone, he called Simon not
only to tell him to save the department's money on a trip south of the
border, but also to pre-empt any panicked calls of "shots fired" they
might receive regarding the building at 852 Prospect.  

     "These are the same types of visions you were having before?" 
Simon clarified.

     "Yes, when Alex was here, in Cascade.  I don't know for sure
that she's here yet, but I know she's getting closer, and seeing that
spotted jaguar was a warning.  More like a challenge."  Jim didn't
mention the fact of the cat lounging on Blair's side of the bed, but he'd
felt that message loud and clear when he saw it.  The location of the
spirit animal was not random.

     "I guess our hope she might have been taken from the hospital
still catatonic is pretty much shot then."  Simon paused.  "If you're sure
about the meaning of these visions."

     "This isn't an exact science, Simon.  But I feel that she's moving
closer, and that she was not only letting me know that, and warning me,
but that she was challenging me."

     "We already have an APB out on her, just in case she shows
up."  Simon sighed.  "Are you sure you're up to handling this without
Sandburg here?"

     "Yes, sir, I'm sure.  I spoke to him earlier, and warned them
about the escape.  He's safer where he is."

     "How's the kid doin'?"

     "He's okay now.  He told me he'd had pneumonia when he first
got there.  I guess he wasn't in any immediate danger, but still..."  

     "He seemed a little tired in Sierra Verde, but I just chalked that
up to the fact he was out of the hospital a little too soon."

     "Yeah, he was that," Jim agreed.  

     "You think she'll want to come after Blair again?"

     "I don't know.  If she does, it will probably be as a way to get at
me."

     "Well, I'll cancel the arrangements for the trip to Sierra Verde
then, and let Connor know."

     "Thanks, Simon."

     "Any thoughts on where Barnes might hide out?"

     "Not at the moment, but I intend to get on it right away."

     "Jim--be sure you fully utilize Connor as your partner on this.  I
don't want you working this case without back-up."

     "I will, sir.  Thanks."  Jim broke the connection and set the
telephone aside.  

     //Just calm down and focus, Ellison.  You know why you're
getting antsy, why you feel like clearing this whole fucking place out
again to the bare walls.  You know why you feel unsettled and jittery. 
Take one of Sandburg's deep breaths he's always going on about, and
settle down.// Jim leaned heavily on the kitchen counter with both
hands. //She's close...maybe not here yet, but close...// Jim pushed away
from the counter and went to the refrigerator, grabbing out a beer and
gulping down a few swallows.  It did little to settle his nerves, and he
found himself pacing the loft very much like a caged cat, doing his best
not to give in to the restlessness and unease that was all too familiar. 
The ringing of the phone was a welcome distraction.

     "Ellison," he said, a bit lackluster.

     "Hey, Jim, it's just me," Blair's voice came over the line.  Jim's
psyche grasped at the sound of his Guide's voice like a lifeline.  "I was
worried...you know, with Alex out running around.  Are you okay?"

     "I know she's getting closer, Chief.  I can feel it."

     "Like before?"  Blair asked.

     "Yeah, only now I recognize it for what it is."  Jim hesitated.

     "What?"

     "I didn't say anything else," Jim countered.

     "No, what aren't you telling me?"  Blair prodded.

     "I saw the spotted jaguar again."

     "That's sort of a significant omission, Jim.  When?"

     "Uh, just a little while ago...not long before you called."

     "Was that it?  You just saw the cat?"

     "It was on our bed upstairs."  Jim swallowed when he'd finished
speaking. //On *our bed*, the one you oughtta be in, with me...  God, I
miss you, baby.//

     "Jim?"

     "Yeah?"

     "What's wrong, beyond the obvious?"

     "I just miss you."

     "Yeah, me too."  Blair was quiet a minute.  "I love you."

     "I know.  Me too, sweetheart."

     "There's something else about the vision.  Come on, Jim, don't
make me *drag* it--" Blair paused, and Jim heard him coughing, then
he returned, "Don't make me drag it out of you."

     "Are you okay?"

     "Yeah, just the residual stuff.  I'm almost totally over it."

     "The cat was on your side of the bed.  Maybe I'm just reading
something more into it, but..."

     "But you read that as meaningful?"  Blair was quiet a moment. 
"It could be.  I mean, if she's trying to either let you know that she
wants my place in your life, or that she's going to fight for that...or that
she's still after me...there could be lots of reasons."

     "I just want to clear this place down to nothing.  God, Blair, it's
the same shit, different day," Jim complained.  "Just like before."

     "But now you *know* what it is, and you can fight it, Jim.  You
know you're reacting to another Sentinel. *Use* that--tune into it, use it
against her.  Use it to find her, and to stop her."

     "How?"

     "You're picking up...*vibes* from Alex, for lack of a better
word.  Use that.  When you feel like doing something...*strange*,
question it, what it means, *use* it to figure out what she's up to."

     "I'll try, Chief."

     "I think I should come home."

     "I think you should stay there," Jim managed, fighting not only
the tightness in his throat, but every part of him that screamed
YESSSSS!!!!!  On the next plane out!!!!  "I don't want her to get at you
again, and I don't want you in the line of fire if something goes down."

     "I can take care of myself, Jim."

     "I know that.  But she's gotten the drop on all of us at one time
or another.  In your case, it almost cost you your life.  I won't risk that."

     "My life's not gonna be worth much without yours," Blair said
softly.  "I'm worried about you."

     "Don't be.  I'll be okay, Blair.  I don't like being apart, but I
think you were right to do it.  I don't think we could have been any
good together, to each other, until she's out of the picture, put away
somewhere for good."

     "You know what scares me, Jim?"

     "What, sweetheart?'

     "How many more are out there?  What are they doing?  What
happens if another one shows up next week?  Ten years from now?"

     "I'm hoping we'll be better able to cope with it--to know what to
expect.  And hopefully, it won't be another criminal."

     "If Alex weren't a criminal, though, it would be that much
harder, you know, her being a female Sentinel..."

     "That's one mistake I won't make twice."

     "I'm not looking to wring apologies out of you, love," Blair said,
and the use of the endearment raised the lump in Jim's throat again.  "I
just...one of the things I have to come to grips with, and part of the
reason I need time to deal with this...I have to decide how I'm gonna
cope with this if it happens again--maybe next time with a female
Sentinel who isn't a criminal...someone you could...you know, really
care about, in addition to the sex part of it."

     "How could you think I would fall in love with someone else? 
You said yourself you knew that this had nothing to do with my being
*in love* with Alex."

     "I know that.  She was a criminal, and she did some horrible
things.  But in spite of that, the urge was strong enough for you to go to
her.  What if she had been a good person?  A really nice, caring, good
person?  Someone you liked, that you could care about, and then there
was that *urgency* with it..."

     "Oh, Blair.  Damn it, I wish you were here.  I'd show you how
impossible it would be for me to *fall in love* with anybody else."

     "See, that's why I needed time away.  You'd prove it to me by
taking me to bed.  There's nothing wrong with that, but it's not what's
wrong."

     "I don't know what you want me to say."

     "I don't want you to say anything specific.  This isn't about
being angry or dragging some sort of hat-in-hand apology out of you. 
It's about how I feel inside.  I'm scared, Jim.  I never felt this way about
anybody before, and I can't go through getting dumped if the next
female Sentinel who shows up...can offer you everything, including
social acceptance, children, and the sating of that urge to be with one
of your own kind.  In other words, everything I can't ever give you."

     "You're the only one I want, Blair.  If you can't give it to me, I
don't need it."

     "Look, Jim, let's just let this lie for now.  It's not something you
can *prove* to me.  It's something I have to feel, to believe in."

     "That's pretty hard to accomplish when you're there and I'm
here."

     "Actually, it's easier.  My head's clearer with us apart right now. 
Being with you wouldn't exactly help me maintain my objectivity."

     "Do you need to be objective?  This is our *life* we're talking
about here."

     "Yeah, Jim, I do.  I need to think with my larger head on this
one."

     "I don't want us to ever go through anything like it again.  Life
doesn't have guarantees.  The best I can do is promise that I won't lose
control--"

     "Maybe you better not make promises, Jim."  Blair took in a
deep breath.  "It's hard enough if something goes down between you
and her without it breaking a second, new promise along with all our
old ones."

     "What can I do to change how you feel, Blair?"

     "Nothing.  I don't mean that to sound cold.  That's why I left.  I
still love you, and there's nothing I want more than to be with
you...*really* with you.  Like we were before this happened.  I don't
know if I'm just still messed up from my mom's death and everything
hurts more, or what it is, but I need to feel okay with things.  I'm
getting there, but I've got a ways to go.  I'm not looking for you to beg
me or promise me anything.  I need to cope with all this the best I can."

     "I'm so sorry I hurt you, sweetheart."

     "Yeah, well, I'm sorry I made you feel like the 'primary subject',
too," Blair responded.

     "At least I wasn't the 'secondary subject'.  That would have been
worse," Jim added, the smile creeping into his voice.  He could hear
Blair chortle on the other end of the line, despite their troubled state.

     "That would have been the last straw, huh?"  Blair retorted.

     "Just about, yeah."

     "You'll always be my *primary subject*, Jim.  For the rest of
my life, no matter what happens.  Nobody would ever hold the place in
my heart that's yours.  Which, incidentally, hogs up pretty much the
whole thing."

     "I love you, Chief.  You be careful, and you let your dad and
Hutch watch out for you security-wise.  No dumb chances."

     "Okay.  You have a partner there to watch your back?"

     "Simon assigned Connor."

     "Good.  Don't be a dead hero, Jim."

     "I won't.  I'll be careful."  He paused.  "Would it be okay if I
called you once in a while?  Just to hear your voice?"

     "Yeah, I'd like that.  I miss you, too, Jim.  More than you
know."
     
     "Okay.  Take good care of yourself and don't take any risks with
running around by yourself, got it?"

     "Got it.  Ditto right back at ya."

     "Point made.  Love you, honey."

     "Love you too, love.  Call me tomorrow night, huh?"

     "I will.  Goodnight."

     "'night, Jim."  And then he was gone, and replaced by the dial
tone, which seemed a harsh intrusion on what had been soft words. 
Not always pretty ones, but meaningful ones.  Blair loved him, and he
wanted to work things out.  He still wanted what they had...

********

     Blair hung up the phone and looked around at his room.  It was
homey and comfortable now, with his books on shelves and his
surviving trinkets displayed.  Starsky had managed to glue back
together the smashed head of the statue he'd found, and Blair hadn't had
the heart to tell him the thing still looked like an elephant stepped on
its head.  Oh, well...his mother picked it out as a gift for him and his
father repaired it with a lot of love and effort.  Even if it was deformed,
it was a treasure.  

     He was lounging on one of his favorite throws, which was over
the bedspread.  A few of his favorite masks hung on the walls.  Fixing
up the walls and the hauling in the shelf unit and the desk had been
Starsky's project while Blair was still quite ill.  The new laptop was a
sure sign of Hutch's acceptance of him as family.  Every day a new
touch had been added to the room to make it more Blair's, and the
progression had cheered him up more than he could describe when he'd
felt so broken that he hadn't had much interest in anything.  

     That didn't mean that all the pertinent items wouldn't eventually
have to be packed up again so he could move back in with Jim. *If* he
moved back...Blair sat up and ran a hand back through his hair, tugging
on it a bit as if it would jar some sort of answer from his tired brain. 
Loving Jim wasn't a problem.  Being in love with him was never in
question.  Forgiving him wasn't really so much an issue anymore either. 
Blair had never really held Jim fully responsible for "infidelity" or
inclinations in that direction.  

     The fly in the ointment was fear.  All that time of analyzing
Jim's fear-based responses, and now Blair was being menaced by one
of his own.  He'd told Jim openly what that fear was.  What if it
happens again?  A fear which was partnered with an underlying hurt
that there was something out there stronger than their love, stronger
than their passion--something that overrode that, if only for a brief
time.  

     "Damn it."  Blair flopped back on the bed again and let out a
long sigh, which was followed by the predictable little coughing jag. 
Long sighs still weren't on the post-pneumonia approved list as far as
his still somewhat unsettled bronchial passage was concerned.  "Back
to square one," he mumbled to himself, realizing that the impetus for
leaving Cascade in the first place was still there, no matter how much
he loved or missed Jim.  He still had no more answers for himself than
he'd had two weeks ago.

     A light knock on the door shook Blair out of his thoughts.  At
his "come in", Starsky poked his head in the door, then walked into the
room.  

     "I thought maybe you were already asleep," he said.  Even
during his illness, Blair had not been known for his early bedtimes, so
his prolonged silence in his room at a few minutes past nine had
probably seemed pretty strange to his father and Hutch.  

     "No, just thinking."  Blair frowned when he saw that Starsky
had a revolver in his hand, which he laid on the bed as he sat on the
foot of it, facing Blair, who straightened up until he was sitting cross-legged 
on the bed.  "What's that for?"

     "I want you to keep it in here."

     "You know how I feel about guns."

     "I don't want you to end up dead--again--because you couldn't
defend yourself.  This isn't up for debate.  Alex Barnes is out there
somewhere, and we need to be prepared."

     "I'm staying with two armed cops."

     "Who are sleeping at the opposite end of the hall and are *not*
Sentinels.  I don't think there'll be any trouble, and we're going to be on
the alert, but I won't risk your life by not making sure you're protected."

     "I don't like it, but I guess I can't argue with it."

     "You could, but it would be pointless," Starsky countered,
smiling.  "Tomorrow, we'll set up some targets out back, and you can
practice a little."  At Blair's sideways glance, Starsky added, "Just to be
sure you can hit what you aim at."

     "Okay."  Blair sighed and stared at the gun.  

     "Hey."  When Blair looked up, Starsky asked, "You wanna tell
me what's really buggin' you?"

     "Just feeling sorry for myself, I guess.  Thinking about my
mom...  You know, what happened to her, and then all this...*crap*
with Alex...  I had this *dream life* with Jim--we were in love, we
were happy, and I never thought anything would screw that up.  I just
feel sometimes like I'm losing everything that mattered to me, you
know?  Now I know I've got to look at the diss with a real critical eye
too."

     "What do you mean?"

     "Before this whole mess hit the fan with Alex, Jim and I were
having problems over the diss.  He wasn't really supposed to see it until
we'd had a chance to sit down and talk it out, but he did, and he was
upset with some of what I wrote, and you know, there are
confidentiality issues, stuff I should be facing.  I don't know how to
keep his name out of things.  My committee is already due to hang me
in the campus courtyard because I haven't turned in that introductory
chapter.  I lost one of my grants and you don't even wanna know the
size of my credit card balance since that happened."  Blair shook his
head.  "You know, none of it matters, when I think about my mom, and
now...the trouble Jim and I are having...but it's just hard.  It's like
everything all at once."

     "What's the biggest problem with the dissertation?"

     "Aside from the fact that it's fucking up my relationship with
Jim?"

     "Yeah, besides that," Starsky added, smiling a little sadly.

     "Jim's identity.  I can call him 'primary subject', but I have to
document all of it.  My advisor, and probably my committee, needs to
know that I have the information to verify what are frankly pretty
incredible findings.  I'm afraid of what's going to happen if someone
gets a hold of Jim's name and what he can do...it's happened before,
just from some old undergrad paper of mine and Jim's debriefing after
he left the jungle.  The nutcase made us steal an airplane--well, he
tried--but that was even before the diss."

     "That's a tough one.  You don't trust your committee?"

     "I don't know as I trust anybody besides you and Hutch and
Simon with Jim's safety.  Well, and Megan knows now, but that was
accidental.  Not that I don't trust her...I just didn't mean for her to find
out."

     "Does Jim know she knows?"

     "No."  Blair looked up from where he had been fidgeting with a
thread on the blanket.   "I guess I oughtta tell him, huh?  Man, he's
gonna kill me."

     "Not and live to tell about it."  Starsky smiled and Blair chortled
a little.  

     "I think he's pretty clear on that," Blair said, still smiling.

     "You've had way too much to handle in a short time, kiddo." 
Starsky rested his hand on Blair's forearm.  "You're entitled to feel
lousy once in a while."

     "The one thing I held onto through all of it was that I had Jim,
you know?"  Blair bit his lip and shook his head.  "And now, it just
seems like there's so much I have to get past...  I know Jim didn't mean
to hurt me, and I know he wants to make things right and get back
together.  But what happens if there's another Sentinel out there
someday?  A nice woman he could actually marry and have kids with? 
You know I told you he had this...*urge* with Alex, and that was
against everything else in him.  I couldn't compete with a woman like
that--hell, I couldn't compete with a *man* like that.  I just know that I
have to face losing Jim if another Sentinel shows up who isn't a
criminal."

     "If that's what you really believe, then you stay the hell away
from Ellison."

     "You don't think it's possible?"

     "I'm the wrong person to ask that question right about now."

     "Maybe, but I care what you think.  I want to know."

     "I think Jim's always gonna love you most.  This whole urge
thing wasn't anything lofty or emotional, so it boils down to whether or
not Jim can keep his pants zipped up if another Sentinel shows up.  I
don't picture him running off and marrying her and setting up
housekeeping, because I think he loves you.  But I don't know enough
about this urge thing he supposedly has to know if he'd do the same
thing again that he did this time.  If you're going to have to live your
life in fear of getting hurt, it's not much of a life."

     "No, I know that."  Blair sighed.  "For what it's worth, I kind of
agree with you.  I don't think love was ever the issue here."

     "You think you could handle it, and move past it, if this
happened again?"

     "No."  Blair shook his head.  "That's why I'm stuck in this place
where I don't know where to go.  I love Jim too much to just walk
away, and I know in my heart that it's not really about love--I mean, the
draw to Alex.  But at the same time, I know I don't want to feel this
way again."  Blair paused.  "I don't feel good about being this far away
from Jim with Alex running around out there somewhere.  What if he
needs me?"
     
     "What do you need?"

     "To know he's not gonna die while I'm on vacation."

     "If Alex Barnes gets the drop on Jim, you do realize that your
being here isn't going to matter--anymore than your being in Cascade or
anywhere.  Your presence didn't stop it from happening before." 
Starsky got up and started pacing.  "This sounds like it's Jim's personal
demon--getting control of himself when it comes to this woman, or any
other one like her.  I'm not talking morals now--just that there's only so
much you can do for Jim to bolster him against her--"

     "That's it!"  Blair was up off the bed like he'd been goosed with
a hot poker.  

     "What?"  Starsky looked startled at the abrupt movement.

     "That's what's wrong.  That's why Jim wasn't able to resist Alex. 
We were having problems.  We weren't making love, we weren't close
the way we usually are!  Oh, man, that's it!"  Blair was partially smiling
now, pacing as he put it all together.  "Jim and I have a bond, and it
was weakened by the fight about the diss that never really got resolved,
and then Alex was in town, and neither one of us fought hard enough to
hold onto what we had, to just *do it* no matter if we had some
issues...to stay close, to...to keep it together.  That gave her the in."

     "So you think that by getting back together with Ellison, you're
going to solve everything?"

     "I don't know, but I think it's possible.  I mean, we've both been
sitting on our own side of the fence at one time or another in this thing,
feeling lousy about something and freezing each other out.  Jim didn't
want anything to do with me while we were fighting about the diss.  I'd
approach him in bed and he'd make a remark about not wanting to end
up in chapter 7, or something.  Even after we sort of made up, it was
like he started viewing me as some sort of *spy* instead of his lover. 
Of course, being his lover actually makes the whole stupid fucking
dissertation pretty much a piece of crap academically anyway."  Blair
paused, but only briefly.  "Then Alex showed up, we were already at
odds, and Jim was probably pretty horny by then anyway without
getting any at home--"

     "Whoa, wait a minute.  Don't turn this on yourself and excuse
him because he wasn't getting any at home.  That's the oldest excuse in
the book."

     "He didn't cheat with just anybody--actually, he didn't go all the
way with Alex.  Okay, maybe you have a primitive mating urge to
couple with your own kind.  Add to that an unsatisfied sexual appetite,
a rift in your relationship where you feel alienated from your lover..."

     "So you can fight with Ellison, but you just have to be sure the
sex stays good so he doesn't look elsewhere?  What happens if you get
sick?  Disabled?  Can't have sex?  If you don't want it?  You have to
come across so he won't cheat on you?"

     "That's not what I'm saying."

     "Maybe not, but it's what it sounds like.  Being faithful to
someone you love is about a hell of a lot more than sex.  Maybe it's
because I'm a little closer to havin' to face that than you are, that what
you're saying scares the hell out of me.  Suppose Hutch or me develops
some health problem and can't get it up anymore.  If we were under the
pressure you'd be puttin' yourself under here, that would mean
whichever one of us had the limp dick would have sit back and wait to
get dumped.  It reduces the whole thing down to a coupla body parts. 
Is that what you want?"

     "No, but--"

     "Blair, look, I know you want to go back to Jim, and if you do,
you don't need my approval, or anybody's permission.  He's your lover
and it's your life.  I love you, and I'm still gonna love you no matter
who you're sleepin' with.  I might not like it, and I might tell you about
it, but I'm still gonna love you."  Starsky took a hold of Blair's
shoulders as they stood face to face.  "You're the only son I've got, the
only one I'm ever gonna have, and that makes you really, really
precious to me.  I can't control your choices, and I don't want to.  I just
don't want to see you reason through something in a way that's gonna
get you hurt even worse in the future."

     "When I used to have problems like this--well, okay, I never
had one like this exactly...but I'd meditate.  Since my mom died, I
just...I get thinking about her, and...this is so stupid, but it just reminds
me so much, and I get to missing her and then it doesn't help anyway."

     "Still hurts quite a bit, doesn't it, kiddo?"

     "A *lot*," Blair said, closing his eyes briefly.  He was relieved
when Starsky pulled him in for a hug.  "I could always call her, you
know?  Or write to her, or e-mail her, or something, and she'd be there
someplace.  I just...I miss her so much sometimes," Blair admitted a
little brokenly.  "I need to talk to her.  Hutch even took me to visit her
place today, and I...I just couldn't focus.  All there was was the
hurt...memories about how she died..."

     "I know.  It's pretty fresh, son.  Times like these are when you
really need to talk to your mom, I know."  Starsky let out a long breath. 
"You try to talk t'me and I get mad.  Big help that is."  Starsky rested
his hand on the back of Blair's head.  "Y'know, the day I graduated
from the police academy, I cried like a baby because my dad wasn't
there.  Only person who understood that, and didn't think I was nuts,
was Hutch.  There's no statute of limitations on grief, Blair.  If it hurts,
get it out.  There's nothing wrong with missin' your mom just because
she's been gone a little while."  

     Blair let go of his emotions then and cried, letting the tears
come freely, letting the pain of the loss sweep over him time and time
again until the waves settled down a bit.  His father was just a quiet
stronghold, consoling him with the embrace and a few little pats to his
back.  

     "That's it, let it out, kiddo.  It's okay.  You're not too old to need
your mom.  I'm a lot older'n you are, and when the time comes I can't
pick up the phone and call Ma when I need to hear her voice...I know
I'm gonna be all screwed up for a while."

     "I'm so tired," Blair muttered, sniffling.

     "Maybe you should get some sleep, and we'll talk about it in the
morning.  If you still want to go back home to Jim, we'll give you a
police escort right to the front door of the loft.  Deal?"

     "Deal," Blair said, backing away a little.  "I guess I'll go get
cleaned up and go to bed."

     "You want Hutch to make you some'a that weed water you like
so well?"

     "Nah, I'll be okay."

     "Aw, come on.  Give the old mother hen somethin' to fuss
about.  Go get ready for bed and I'll put in your order for tea."

     "Thanks, Dad."  Blair smiled.  "You and Hutch have both been
so good to me.  I don't know what I'd do without you guys."

     "Luckily, you don't have to worry about findin' out anytime
soon.  No go get ready for bed, and we'll decide about New York when
you're feelin' a little better."

     "Okay."  Blair watched his father leave the room and then went
into the bathroom to wash his face.  

     His theory about his relationship to Jim made a kind of
instinctual sense to him, and at the same time, his father's objections to
that line of reasoning were pretty solid too.  Leaning his head against
the mirror, he felt a few new tears come.  He missed his mother, and
his brain was tired.  Tired from all the analyzing.  His heart was tired
from all the hurting.   As he peeled off his clothes and got ready for
bed, he wasn't sure, literally, which direction to go--back to Jim or on
his way to life apart.  The pain of the latter option was nearly
overwhelming.  

********  

     Hutch yawned and rolled over, reluctantly relinquishing his
spooned position against Starsky to sleep on his other side for a few
hours.  Pressed against him back to back now, he stifled another yawn
and worked at going back to sleep.  

     There it was again.  The "it" that had disturbed him in the first
place.  He rose up on one elbow and listened carefully, tuning in to all
the usual sounds of the household.  All the usual sounds and...*harsh
breathing*...hyperventilating...

     "Starsk."  Hutch poked his partner hard enough to get a grunt
out of him.  "Starsky, wake up."  Hutch was getting his gun out of the
night stand, and now Starsky was rallying enough to notice that.  "Get
your piece.  Something's wrong."

     "Sounds like heavy breathing," Starsky got up and grabbed his
gun, almost as an afterthought, heading out of the room and down the
hall toward the sound, coming from Blair's room.  It was on the tip of
Hutch's tongue to remind him that he wasn't exactly "slithering
stealthily toward the target" or using any sort of caution, but he figured
Starsky wouldn't listen anyway.  Plus, in all honesty, it sounded more
like Blair hyperventilating than anything else more sinister.

     Blair was sitting up in bed, his face white as a sheet and
covered with a fine sheen of sweat, his breath coming out in ragged
wheezes, broken by the occasional cough.  Starsky was already at his
side, trying to talk to him.

     "Starsk, get his legs over the edge and make him lean forward,
with his head down."  Hutch was on the other side now, and together,
they carried out the directive.  Hutch crouched low on the floor.  "Blair,
listen to me, you've got to try to calm down.  Work on getting some air
in there.  Come on, kid, slow down, you're okay."  Even the soft words
didn't seem to be working.  "Go get a paper bag.  We'll try that."

     "Maybe it's lungs.  Maybe we oughtta call an ambulance."

     "We need a paper bag, Starsk, not an ambulance.  He's having a
panic attack.  My cousin used to have these when we were kids.  Now
*go*."  Hutch moved in front of Blair, still crouched.  "C'mon, Blair,
concentrate on your breathing.  Next in-breath, slow it down and take
in more air.  You can do it.  Everything's okay.  Just breathe in nice and
slow for me."  Hutch paused as there was some slight improvement,
and then a little more.  "Good job, Blair.  You're gonna be fine.  A little
slower now.  Try to calm down.  Everything's under control."

     By the time Starsky came back in with the paper bag, Hutch
was in the final stages of coaching Blair's breathing back to a facsimile
of normal, and Blair was sitting up straight, Hutch sitting on the bed
next to him.

     "You okay, junior?"  Starsky moved toward them, his turn now
to crouch in front of his son.  

     "I think so," Blair answered, still a little out of breath.  "I think
I'm gonna be sick."  With that, he bolted past both of them into the
bathroom and just made it to the toilet before beginning a violent bout
of vomiting.  

     "He's all yours, Dad," Hutch said, smiling as he sat on the edge
of the bed.  Catching Starsky's worried look, he added, "He'll be okay,
babe.  My cousin was a real nervous kid and he used to get these
anxiety attacks or panic attacks or whatever you want to call them from
time to time.  Sometimes he threw up, sometimes he just got jittery. 
Go see if he fell in."

     Starsky walked into the bathroom and found Blair crouched by
the toilet, pale, sweaty and out of breath.

     "You've probably got more experience at dealin' with one'a
these than I do,"Starsky said, crouching next to his son with a damp
washcloth, which he used to bathe his face.  

     "I used to have panic attacks when I was a kid.  Naomi tried
putting me in therapy, and it didn't really help.  Meditation usually
centers me before I really go off the deep end, but...I just don't seem to
have the heart to do that anymore."  Blair paused.  "I had a nightmare,
and when I woke up, I couldn't come out of the reaction..." 

     "You wanna talk about it?" 

     "It was about the murder.  They're always about the murder." 

     "And you react like this?"

     "Not usually.  Usually Jim hears me and wakes me up and
calms me down.  I haven't had a nightmare like that for months now," 
Blair added, his hand still shaking a bit as he reached up and flushed
the toilet.  

     "Think things are settled down now?" Starsky asked as Blair
pushed down the toilet lid and sat on it.  

     "I think so.  I'm really sorry."

     "Don't apologize, kiddo.  I'm just worried about you."

     "Yeah, I know."

     "You two have things under control in here?" Hutch asked,
poking his head back in the door.  

     "We're fine, babe.  Go on back to bed," Starsky responded.

     "I'm sorry I got you guys up," Blair said.

     "Not a problem.  I'm glad you're feeling better," Hutch
concluded, heading out of the room and back down the hall.

     "Tomorrow, I wanna see Jim," Blair said, pushing the sweat-dampened 
hair back from his face. 
     
     "Okay.  You want me to call him for you now?  Or do you want
to call him?"

     "No, it's late.  If he's getting some sleep, I don't wanna wake
him up.  First thing tomorrow, I...I need to see him.  I miss him so
much and after my mom and everything that's happened..." Blair let the
sentence trail off, his voice shaking a little.

     "You don't have to explain, kiddo.  We'll get you on the first
plane back to Cascade tomorrow, okay?"

     "Okay."  Blair paused.  "You think I'm wrong to go back to him,
don't you?"

     "I wish he'd treated you better than he did, and I don't trust him
100% not to hurt you again, but no, I don't think you're wrong.  I think
that's between you and Jim.  Well, and me, because if he hurts you like
this again, you'll have to visit what's left of him in traction someplace."

     "I think I'm gonna go back to bed, Dad.  Thanks for coming in
and tell Hutch again I'm sorry I woke him up, okay?"

     "Okay."  Starsky smiled as he walked back into the bedroom
with Blair, and held up the cover for him to get in.  Once he was
situated, Starsky patted his shoulder.  "Get some rest, son.  We'll get
you back together with Jim as soon as we can tomorrow."

     "'night, Dad." When Starsky was almost to the door, Blair
added, "You would've been pretty good at that tucking in stuff, I think,"
he said, grinning.

     "Better late than never," Starsky retorted, smiling back.  "See
you in the morning."  With that, he pulled the door shut.  Blair curled
up with the spare pillow, and willed himself to relax.  Hopefully,
tomorrow the spare pillow would be Jim.

********

     Jim drove the rented black Buick Century down the road toward
the long drive that led back into the trees that obscured Starsky's and
Hutch's place from view of the street.  He had no idea how his decision
to come here would be received, but he'd had another vision, and this
one had propelled him to stuff a couple items in a travel bag and run
out the door to the airport, not bothering to call ahead for reservations
until he got there, mercilessly haranguing every ticket counter until he
got on a flight to L.A.  He then rented the car and drove like a madman
until he reached Bay City.  

     The vision had been quite simple, and by most standards, not all
that terrifying.  Maybe it had really been a dream, since he'd been
catching a nap on the couch before going back out on the streets to
track Alex.  After working nearly around the clock, and almost dozing
off at the wheel, he'd decided he needed rest before going any further.  

     He'd seen the wolf, lying on its side on the ground in the jungle,
raising only its head to let out long, mournful howls.  

     That was all.  No visions of death or mayhem, no spotted
jaguars, no great spiritual revelations.  Just the vision of the wolf, and a
feeling of such utter despair and loneliness coming from the howls of
the prone animal that Jim had come to in a cold sweat, and launched
his journey.  Turning in the end of the driveway, he realized it would
have probably been wise to call and talk to Blair first, but this was a
gut-level impulse--and in the heat of the moment when he'd been
locating a flight, his impetus to reach Blair had been every bit as
intense--if not more so--than his impetus to meet Alex on the beach
that now infamous morning.

     The contemporary wood and stone house looked about the same
as it had several months ago, except a few new plantings had been
added.  There was a rusted brown pick-up parked in the drive-off near
the garage.  

     Jim got out of the car and walked up to the door, already
scanning the interior of the house with Sentinel hearing to find Blair. 
The familiar heartbeat was there, sounding a bit on the rapid side,
much like it did when they were running out the door in the morning,
in a hurry.  He rang the bell and waited.  Hutch opened the front door.

     "Jim--this is a surprise."

     "I'm sorry to show up unannounced, but I really need to see
Blair."

     "Come on in.  Take the load off in the living room, and I'll go
let Blair know you're here.  He's in his room."

     Before Hutch could take two steps, Blair emerged from the
bedroom area, and upon sight of Jim, shot across the room like a canon
ball and wrapped his arms around Jim's neck while Jim's arms went
around Blair's body and lifted him off the ground in a bone-crushing
embrace.  He buried his nose in Blair's hair, nuzzled the side of his
face, and then hid his face against Blair's neck, breathing deeply the
familiar, comforting scent of his lover.  All the while, Blair clung to
him almost desperately.  

     "We'll be out on the deck," Hutch said, slipping out of the room
to leave to two men to their reunion.

     Jim finally relinquished his hold enough to let Blair land on his
feet again.  

     "I had a dream...I had to be with you.  The wolf was crying..." 
Jim knew he was babbling, but standing here with his forehead pressed
against Blair's, he had little hope of being coherent.  "I felt like you
needed me...like you were calling me."

     "I was," Blair whispered back, his voice shaky.  "I was coming
home today.  I had reservations on a flight this afternoon."

     "Thank God.  Does that mean we're okay?"

     "It means I love you and we've got some things wrong but we
need to work 'em out together.  It means I need you too much to be
without you anymore."

     "Me too, angel.  Me too."  Jim framed Blair's face with both
hands.  He'd noticed when he hugged him that Blair was quite thin, that
face almost bordered on gaunt, and his color still was still a bit pale. 
"You're so thin, baby," Jim said gently, his thumbs rubbing lightly over
Blair's cheeks.

     "I haven't had much appetite.  I lost a lot of weight while I was
sick."

     "Blair...can I...God, I just want to kiss you so bad right now."

     "So what's stopping you?"  Blair asked, smiling.  

     "The last time...it was a disaster, sweetheart."

     "This isn't the last time.  This is now."  Blair moved upward,
and Jim met him more than halfway, covering Blair's mouth with his
own, his tongue demanding entry almost immediately and being
eagerly drawn in as Blair's arms wound around his neck again and the
kiss deepened.  He felt his cock twitch and jump to attention, his body
pressed against Blair, his mouth taking in the succulent flavor he'd
been denied way too long.  More importantly than all that, Blair's heart
was beating against his, the two hearts finding their shared rhythm
again.  

     He reluctantly broke the kiss and then went back for one more
small one, unable to resist the kiss-swollen lips.  

     "Blair," he murmured, a little breathless, "God, I'm sorry.  I love
you, baby.  So much."

     "I love you too.  And I know you're sorry, and I know what was
happening.  I understand it, love.  I really do."

     "I know you always understood it, but I know how much it hurt
you."

     "I mean I have a theory about why things happened the way
they did.  Come on.  Let's go in the other room and talk.  I'll tell my dad
and Hutch they can quit hiding on the deck.  Do you have bags?"

     "This is it.  I was traveling light."  Jim held up the bag,
chuckling a little.  Then he tossed it aside and hugged Blair again, just
because he could.  "God, you feel good."

     "Hold that thought.  I'll be right back.  You can go dump your
stuff in the bedroom if you want."

     "Okay.  I'll wait for you."

     Jim went down the hall to the guest room and was a little taken
aback by what he found.  It was no longer the guest room--it was
*Blair's* room.  His wall hangings, his books, his trinkets--many of the
things that had been tossed into cartons at the loft had been settled in
here, minus, of course, quite a few items which just wouldn't fit in the
confined space.  There was a laptop on the small desk, and it looked
new--different than Blair's old laptop.  

     The bathroom was a little cluttered--vintage Blair.  This was
Blair when he wasn't sharing space with anyone else--*stuff*
everywhere.  Most importantly, the very recognizable scent of Blair's
soap, shampoo, and Blair's body lingered in the air in this room. //God,
what a time they'd had in that garden tub...//

     "Jim?"  Blair was back in the bedroom now, and Jim realized he
was standing in the bathroom holding his travel bag, his mouth hanging
open stupidly.

     "Yeah, Chief.  I'm here."  He came out of the room and set
down his bag, as if standing in the bathroom with it was the most
normal activity in the world.

     "I'll clear some space for your stuff," Blair said, chuckling a
little.  "I just sort of *spread out* in here.  Plus, stuff got messy while I
was sick, and then after that...well, you know me and cleaning."

     "You two have had a long-distance romance for some time
now, Chief."

     "Ooh, good one Jim.  Been workin' on those one-liners, have
we?"  Blair needled, grinning.  He sat on the foot of the bed, and Jim
sat next to him.  

     "New laptop?"  He gestured toward the desk.

     "Yeah.  The screen was cracked on my old one.  We were able
to recover the files off it, but it was going to be expensive to fix, so
Hutch bought that for me.  I mean, I fought him all the way, because I
knew I couldn't pay him back, but he said he was looking for something
to do with his honorarium for doing a seminar at UCLA--which was
BS, of course, because they're trying to re-do the landscaping.  When I
said something like that, he just laughed and said he figured I'd get
more use out of the laptop than he'd get out of an ornamental plum
tree."

     "This is really nice.  Settled," Jim said, hoping he didn't sound
too unhinged by that fact.

     "My dad wanted me to feel like it was home, and not a guest
room.  That feeling was really important to me when I got here."  Blair
paused, then looked Jim over carefully as if just really seeing him for
the first time since the hype of their reunion.  "Have you eaten at all, or
maybe caught a little sleep recently?"

     "I haven't cared much about the food, and when I can't keep
going anymore, I sleep."  Jim shrugged.  "On the couch, usually," he
admitted under his breath.  

     "Hutch said he and my dad were going out for a while.  When
they do, I'll fix you something to eat.  Something that isn't fried and
doesn't come wrapped in paper."

     "Food isn't my priority here, Chief."  Jim turned so he sat
sideways, facing Blair.  "I want to know what I have to do to...fix
things."

     "I think the big reason that Alex got between us was...was not
just her, and the way you were drawn to her.  I...I think it had a lot to
do with the fact we were having problems.  Maybe I'm nuts, but I really
feel like if we had been the way we usually are...I don't think she would
have stood a chance.  But we weren't talking much, weren't making
love at all, and the diss was sitting there between us, even though we
tried to pretend it was okay."

     "We worked things out about the diss."  

     "No, Jim, we didn't."  Blair got up and started pacing.  "You
gave in.  Nothing was really resolved.  We never really talked it out. 
When it was over, you still felt like my exploited lab rat instead of my
life partner."  Blair paused at Jim's stricken expression.  "Well, am I
right?"

     "Yeah, you're right," Jim admitted quietly, looking down at the
floor then.  "It reminded me what our relationship was all about--at
least, that's how it felt.  When I read things in there about fear of
intimacy...God, that hurt coming from you."

     "Jim, it wasn't about what we have now.  It was about the
journey getting there, and your journeys getting there with other
people, like Carolyn.  It didn't mean that we don't have intimacy, or that
you fear it with me *now*, but that you start out that way--wary of
letting anyone get too close, too fast."  Blair shook his head.  "But this
is just part of my point.  You should never read your lover assessing
you like that, and your lover shouldn't be doing it.  That diss is a piece
of crap from an academic perspective.  I'm in love with my subject. 
He's the center of my life.  I need him to take my next breath.  I'm
*really* objective to complete a study," Blair concluded sarcastically.

     "What's the solution then?"

     "When I get back to Cascade, I'm telling my committee that I'm
changing topics."

     "They'll never settle for that, Chief.  Not this late in the game. 
You know that."

     "They'll probably take away my fellowship, but I expected that. 
Hell, I expect it's next anyway.  I've gotten so many extensions now that
I think I've made University history."

     "With what happened last year to your mom--"

     "And they were really understanding about that.  So they held
off until they started putting the heat on me again, and I tried to get
something turned in, and then we had that big blow-out about it, and I
put it off again--"

     "You never turned in *anything*?"

     "No."  Blair sighed as he leaned on the back of the desk chair. 
"I knew it was a flawed piece of junk."

     "Because I read it."

     "No, because I had no business writing it given our
relationship."

     "I thought you said you'd lose your grants if you didn't submit
that chapter."

     "I lost one.  If I produced a report of my preliminary findings--and 
if those findings included the verification that I did, indeed, have a
real live Sentinel for a subject--there was this foundation that supports
research into sensory disorders in children that was going to pay me
$5,000 when I completed and submitted the report--which was going to
be culled from that chapter--and they wanted me to be available for
consultations regarding puzzling cases involving hypersensitive
senses."

     "You mean essentially looking for little Sentinels?"

     "Basically.  See, all these kids who are getting written off as
having various *disorders*...they thought maybe some of them could
be Sentinels, and not learning disabled.  They're always looking for
new research to help the kids, and they thought my work had promise
for that.  When I failed to produce the report I had signed up to
provide, and started giving them double talk about my subject, they
withdrew the offer."

     "Blair, I'm sorry...I--"

     "That's why I didn't tell you."  Blair turned around now.  "I
didn't want you to apologize for it, or feel badly.  I'm the one who
screwed up with this dissertation mess.  I got what I deserved for going
on with it after I fell in love with my subject."

     Jim stood up and walked over to Blair, taking a gentle hold of
his shoulders.

     "I don't want you to jeopardize your degree, sweetheart.  I know
what that means to you."

     "Hopefully, this'll just be a setback.  If I lose the fellowship, it'll
be a big one, because I can't pay the tuition without it, and I'll need a
job that pays, and--"

     "Blair, your tuition isn't a problem.  We'll figure out a way to
pay it if we have to take out a loan."

     "Yeah, well, I've got a few of those too."

     "I love you, sweetheart.  I'm not going to let you flounder about
your education.  If we have to take out a loan to pay for the rest of it,
that's what we'll do.  As for the rest of the money issues, I think it's time
you stopped figuring all your debts were your own and started letting
me know what you're facing."

     "Lots of debts and no money, at the moment.  Probable
unemployment.  Tuition bills that would choke a horse when there's no
fellowship to underwrite them."

     "Okay."  Jim pulled him into a hug.

     "Okay?"  Blair echoed, raising his voice a little.

     "When this is all over with Alex, we need to sit down and do
some figuring, and then you need to talk to your committee and see
what we're actually facing.  We'll pay the bills we can, and take out a
loan if we have to to get things straightened around."

     "You mean *you'll* take out a loan.  I couldn't get a loan right
now, and I can't--"

     "Hey--what's this 'I' shit, anyway?  If you had the full time job
and I was having money problems and trying to finish my education,
would you sit back and watch me sweat?"

     "No, of course not, but--"

     "But nothing.  We're in this thing together--all of it."

     "My dad said I should be telling you this stuff--about the debts
and the money issues.  I guess he was right.  I just didn't like to start
draining you like a leech the minute we started a relationship."

     "I'm surprised your dad is giving you advice on how to stay
together with me," Jim said, chuckling and stepping back.  "I expected
to be shot somewhere at the edge of the property while trying to
approach the house."

     "I think hanging and traction were mentioned a couple times,
but other than that, he's taken it well," Blair responded, laughing.

     "I just heard the door.  They're leaving."

     "Come on.  I'll fix you lunch."

     "Blair, I don't care about lunch."  Jim caught Blair's arm as he
headed for the door.  As soon as their eyes met, Jim felt uneasy about
deterring Blair from the lunch mission.  Maybe it had been his way of
artfully dodging another disaster in bed.  "I...I'm not trying to push you,
Chief.  I just..."

     "I want you too."  Blair moved closer now, pulling Jim down
for a prolonged kiss.  

     When they parted, Blair started working the buttons on Jim's
shirt, pausing momentarily while Jim pulled the t-shirt over Blair's
head and tossed it aside.  Once Jim's shirt had joined it, they had to
laugh at the awkwardness of two sets of hands going after opposite
zippers until they finally agreed to take care of stripping off their own
shoes, socks, pants and underwear.  

     Even though the bed was only a couple feet away, Jim startled
Blair by swooping him up in his arms and carrying him toward it. 
Before laying him there, Jim looked intently into his lover's eyes.  

     "There'll never be anyone else, Blair.  I promise you that."

     "Jim..."  Blair fumbled for the right words to deny the promise
without ending the passion of the moment.  Jim sensed that inner
struggle and felt his heart twist at what he'd done to Blair in those
moments when the draw to Alex had been too much to resist.  With the
warm, living weight of Blair in his arms, naked, ready and willing to
make love with him after all this time, what could ever draw him away
again?

     "There will never be anyone else," Jim stated again, but with a
firmness and conviction for which even Blair could find no denial.  

     "I love you," Blair said, grinning now as Jim laid him on the
bed.

     "I love you too, baby.  Want to show you how much," Jim
murmured against Blair's ear as he lowered himself on the bed,
covering Blair's body with his own, wrapping his arms around that
eager, responsive body, claiming the full, slightly parted lips in a
hungry kiss.  "Let me love you," he said in a hushed tone, hearing the
desperation in his own voice.  Desperation to give Blair enough love,
enough passion...enough that he wouldn't have any more doubts or
fears.  That the pain of what had happened with Alex Barnes would be
nothing more than a distant memory.

     He kissed every part of Blair's face, lips dancing over cheeks,
nose, eyelids, forehead, chin, and finally, lips again.  When he broke
free this time, he moved down Blair's throat until he paused to nibble
and lick at the little hollow there.  Then he moved lips and tongue
slowly and lovingly to each shoulder, leaving a trail of passion marks
in his wake.  Blair moaned softly beneath him, his hands slipping into
Jim's hair, then one moving down his back.  

     //Oh, God, this is my Blair...this is making love...not that
sad...*travesty* we both endured in Sierra Verde...//

     Jim's mouth fastened on a nipple, sucking hard, tonguing the
little protrusion until Blair's breath came out in broken groans of
pleasure. //It's been too long for you too, hasn't it, baby?// Jim thought
as he brought the little nub to pebble hardness, then kissed it gently
before moving on to its mate.  The kiss brought a breathy whimper
from Blair, who pulled at Jim's hair until he moved his head up with a
little smile.  Seeing the tears in Blair's eyes, his smile faded a bit until
Blair spoke.

     "I missed you," he whispered shakily.  "I need you so much."

     "God, I need you too, angel.  Need you for my next breath," he
whispered against Blair's mouth before kissing him again, spending
long minutes just exploring the hot, moist depths, getting drunk on the
taste of his other half.  With a parting kiss to Blair's lips, he moved
down again, resuming his work on the neglected nipple.

     Leaving it achingly hard, he kissed, sucked and licked as much
of the soft flesh of Blair's stomach and sides as he could before giving
in and engulfing the rock hard cock in his mouth, sucking diligently,
loving the feeling of Blair's warm, moist, parted thighs on either side of
his head.  He gently fondled the heavy balls with one hand, while the
other arm wrapped around one of those firm but fleshy thighs, his hand
stroking the downy hair there.  

     Blair was writhing on the bed now, his hands almost helplessly
going to Jim's head to encourage the hot, tight suction to continue.  Jim
did as little as absolutely necessary to restrain the bucking hips, taking
as much of Blair's motion as he could endure as he felt the tide of
Blair's orgasm rippling through him.  With a cry of his name, Blair
filled his mouth and he swallowed eagerly until he'd drained the
beloved organ dry, letting it slip carefully from his mouth, peppering it
with feather-light kisses before Blair pulled him up again, and their
mouths joined.  

     "Want you, now," Blair gasped.  "Inside me," he added, the
words coming out in a hot, moist whisper against Jim's ear before Blair
ran his tongue along the shell, nipping at the lobe.

     "I don't have anything."

     "I do.  It's in the bathroom," Blair directed, before kissing Jim
again.  

     "Medicine cabinet?"  Jim asked as he reluctantly pulled away
and went to get the lube.  Blair nodded.  When he walked back into the
room with the tube in hand, he took in a sharp breath at the beauty of
the sight laid out before his eyes.  

     Blair, naked, hair fanned out on the pillow, face flushed with
the passion of lovemaking, sweat-sheened skin dotted with darkening
passion marks, feet flat on the bed, knees bent, sturdy thighs parted
wide in invitation.  Jim feared he'd come right there on the floor as
Blair reached down and pulled his knees up to his chest, spreading his
legs wide apart, completely exposing himself.  

     Jim moved toward the bed, then climbed up on the mattress,
running his hands up the undersides of the raised thighs, leaning down
to nuzzle the tender skin behind Blair's balls.  Settling in to relish this
moment of total intimacy with his lover, he began teasing the tender
skin there with his tongue, knowing how crazy it made Blair to feel
something hot and wet pressing against him in that particular spot. 
Then he sucked the sweet flesh hard enough to mark it, leaving his
brand in this most intimate, secret part of Blair's body as Blair let out a
surprised little shout of pleasure at the sensation.  

     Homing in on his real target now, Jim poked at the little pucker
there with the tip of his tongue, smiling at Blair's responding shiver. 
He darted his tongue just past the tight ring of muscle, making Blair cry
out his name, his breathing getting even heavier now as Jim tongued
his center, that hot, wet little invader poking in and out of his most
sensitive area.  

     "Jim...I'm not gonna last..."  Blair gasped, and Jim realized he
definitely wanted Blair's second climax to be a shared one.  With a
little kiss to the wet flesh he'd been teasing, he found the lube.  "Just
put it on you.  I'm ready, lover.  I need it now," Blair insisted.

     "Calm down, honey."  Jim planted a kiss just below Blair's
navel.  "Deep breaths.  Just let me use a little, baby."  Jim coated two
fingers and slid them inside the fairly relaxed passage, only lingering
long enough to lubricate it before withdrawing and coating himself
with the gel.  He lined himself up with Blair's center and pushed inside
the initial resistance, then slid slowly home in one long, smooth glide. 
Strong thighs wrapped around him, pulling him in still tighter.  

     Sliding his arms around Blair's body, he hoisted him upward,
sitting back on his heels with Blair in his lap, impaled.  Completely
joined now, they clung to one another in a moment of perfect, silent
understanding.  Total unity...something their relationship had been
sadly lacking for too long.  

     Jim pulled back long enough to kiss Blair again, then rested his
forehead against his lover's.  

     "No one else, ever again.  I promise you, Blair.  Only you," Jim
said solemnly, and the blue eyes regarding him were misty--but
trusting.  Blair believed him.  He had no earthly reason to believe there
wouldn't someday be another Alex, but at that moment, Blair put his
faith in Jim, and offered up what was a badly wounded heart trustingly. 
Hugging Blair close and burying his nose in the soft hair, Jim vowed to
himself to guard and treasure that heart...never to betray it for anyone.

     Giving in to the demands of their bodies, the two men began to
move together in a perfect dance of thrust and counter-thrust.  Jim
moved upward as Blair bore down on him, finally separating from Jim
far enough to hold onto the muscular shoulders while he rode the cock
impaling him.  

     Head thrown back, eyes closed, long, soft curls swaying to the
motion of their sex, Jim was mesmerized by watching Blair.  Despite
the glorious sensations his body was enjoying, he couldn't take his eyes
off Blair as he uttered broken little cries, his face displaying
shamelessly the pleasure coursing through his body.  Jim angled his
strokes and rubbed the head of his cock over Blair's prostate, loving the
scream it pulled from the depths of his lover's soul.  

     Unable to resist the tempting neck with its tender skin and fine
sheen of sweat, Jim pulled Blair close again and fastened his mouth on
a succulent spot, creating a bright, audaciously visible passion mark.  

     "Back," Blair gasped, and as he rocked back, Jim happily
followed him until Blair was on his back on the bed, pulling his legs up
to his chest again.  "Hard...harder..."  he ground out between strokes,
and Jim obliged, driving into the eager body in rapid, hard thrusts that
kept Blair screaming out his name, hands clutching at the headboard
behind him, riding out the pleasure of almost painful intensity.  

     When Jim thought he could hold out no longer, Blair let out a
wild shout and his muscles contracted around Jim's cock, dragging him
along to a shared climax, the two voices mingling into one sound as
they came together, Jim filling Blair as Blair's completion spurted over
Jim's chest and stomach.  

     After carefully easing out of Blair's body, Jim curled around his
lover from behind as Blair shifted onto his side.  Stroking a sweaty
thigh, Jim insinuated one leg between Blair's, seeking out more
intimate contact, feeling the moist heat between Blair's legs, wondering
if they would both recover enough for another round.  They rested that
way for a long while until Jim broke the silence.

     "I love you, angel," Jim whispered against Blair's ear.

     "Love you too, lover.  Forever."

     "It was so good, baby," Jim growled into the same ear, then
nipped at the lobe.  

     "Mmmm," was Blair's eloquent response as he wriggled his rear
against Jim's groin.  

     "Smell good," Jim whispered into the rumpled curls, nuzzling
the back of Blair's neck, then traveling down his shoulder and raising
his arm to explore the hot, damp armpit there.  

     "Nobody smells that good, love."  Blair tried to lower his arm,
but Jim was insistent.  Like a big cat scenting its mate, he continued his
exploration, nuzzling Blair's flesh, breathing in his scent, taking in the
scents of their lovemaking.  Blair groaned and complied with the
urging to roll onto his stomach.  Jim was licking and nipping at the
small of his back now, his tongue flirting with the very top of the seam
of Blair's buttocks.  Sensing what Jim wanted most, Blair drew his
knees up, offering himself, his head resting on his folded arms on the
bed.  

     "Want you again, baby.  Is it too soon?"  Jim moved up to plant
a kiss between Blair's shoulders. 

     "Mm-mm," Blair shook his head, then sighed contentedly.

     Jim fumbled for the lube, incredulous that just a few strokes of
his gel-slicked hand brought him to full hardness again.  Blair's center
was still slick and relaxed, and Jim slid in to the hilt in one smooth,
quick motion.  

     Blair moaned and rotated his ass, rising up on all fours now,
moving back as Jim thrust forward, grunting and moaning with each
stroke.  Moving harder and faster now, Jim let himself revel in the wet,
slippery sounds of the fucking, the satisfying slap of his flesh against
Blair's ass, and the raw, animal satisfaction of claiming his mate.  

     "Oooh...oooohhh...ugh, yeah...oh, Jim...ugh...ugh...ugh..."  Blair
clutched the headboard and rode out the waves of Jim's passion, crying
out as his sensitive nipples were pinched and rolled, and his sated cock
was pumped to another hardness he hadn't thought possible.  Giving the
slick passage and the little nob hidden deep inside it a vigorous
workout, Jim continued his rapid motion until he felt his climax
building.  Moving still faster, he felt Blair starting to tense and contract
around him.  With strangled cries of each other's names, they came
again, finally collapsing in a spent heap of sated, sweaty flesh.  

********

     "I still don't think we shoulda just walked outta there and left
them alone."  Starsky poked at his spaghetti, raising at least the tenth
expression of concern in so many minutes as the two men sat in one of
their favorite Italian restaurants, not far from the house.  

     "Starsk, I know Blair's your son and you love him and you're
worried about him and I think that's beautiful.  I really do.  But he's a
grown man."

     "A grown man who showed up at our door with pneumonia, no
will to live and all his worldly possessions in the back of a jalopy pick
up truck, or did you forget that?"

     "No, I didn't forget that.  But what you seem to be forgetting is
that Blair and Jim are both adults in a committed relationship--they're
having problems and they need to work them out.  If Blair wants to go
back to Jim and live happily ever after, that's his decision."

     "You and I both know that when you're in love, you can make
some really bad choices."

     "Starsk, it's time to put away your shotgun and quit treating
Blair like the virgin farmer's daughter you keep locked in the back
bedroom while you run off the suitors you don't approve of."

     "You can sit there and make jokes about it, but you know what
he pulled on Blair was a load of shit."

     "Blair sees it differently."

     "But you don't."

     "I'll be honest, Starsk.  I'd have a real problem with infidelity. 
From what Blair's told us, Jim never actually *did the deed* with this
woman, so maybe a little slap and tickle on the beach doesn't qualify."

     "So if you walked out and saw me climbin' all over that
Reardon woman who lives down the shore, but I stopped short of
rippin' her clothes off because you showed up, you'd figure I hadn't
cheated?"

     "Are you interested in climbing all over the Reardon woman?" 
Hutch asked, raising one eyebrow.

     "No, I was just using her as an example."

     "One that sprang to mind quite readily," Hutch added, taking a
drink of his red wine.  Wine with lunch was an occasional treat that not
being on duty allowed them.

     "You're provin' my point.  I'm just *mentioning* this woman in
a hypothetical situation and you got your back up already."

     "We're not talking about me, though.  We're talking about Blair. 
Furthermore, he seems to feel there's something more to this because of
what Ellison is--"

     "Yeah, a smooth-talking Covert Ops agent who can sell any
cover."

     "I was referring to this *Sentinel thing* he has."

     "You know, I think he loves Blair, I really do.  I just don't want
to see him stomp all over the kid's heart again.  Because if he does,
there ain't gonna be a hole deep enough for him to hide in."  Starsky
paused.  "You honestly are upset about my mentioning Shelly
Reardon?"

     "Shelly?  I didn't know you knew her first name," Hutch said,
keeping his tone conversational.  

     "They sent us an invitation to their housewarming party next
week.  Tim and *Shelly* Reardon was how it was signed. 
Remember?"

     "I guess it was."  

     "C'mon, babe, you don't seriously think I'm checkin' out her
action, do you?"  Starsky reached over and covered Hutch's hand where
it rested on the table.

     "No, not really."  He took a hold of Starsky's hand.  "She's
pretty, though.  I know you probably noticed her."

     "Yeah, I did.  I noticed they had a pretty Great Dane, too, but I
don't want to have sex on the beach with him, either."  Starsky smiled
as Hutch laughed.  

     "Putting her in the category with the family dog is a stretch,
Starsk."

     "Okay, so she's pretty and she fills out her bathing suit pretty
nicely.  Big deal.  So have a couple hundred other women I've seen in
the last twenty years.  I'm still here, babe.  I always will be.  I got all I
want."

     "I wondered if sometimes you...regretted what you gave up."

     "I s'pose I gave it up alone, huh?  Unlike you, who were
otherwise planning to remain celibate and join a monastery."

     "You know what I mean," Hutch chuckled.

     "I didn't give up anything, darlin'.  I *got* you.  That's what I
wanted, and that's what I got."

     "I don't look like much in a bathing suit."

     "Not in a pink two-piecer, but you look pretty good to me in
your trunks," Starsky said, waggling his eyebrows.  

     "I love you," Hutch said quietly, looking at their joined hands.  

     "Hey.  I love you too, you big beautiful blond."

     "You gonna back off with calling for Ellison's head on a plate?"

     "I'll settle for his ass in a sling."

     "Starsk."

     "Okay.  I'll back off."  He withdrew his hand and returned to
eating his lunch.  "If you make it worth my while," he added, grinning
evilly.

********

     Blair stirred, then smiled, despite the fact he was horribly
sticky, too warm, and essentially smothered by a large configuration of
equally sticky, warm flesh that was wrapped around him.  Instead of
trying to move away, he hugged his partner more tightly.  There was a
little rumble of laughter under his ear, and Jim hugged back, kissing his
hair.  

     "Look at you," he said, grinning down at Blair like a lovesick
sap.  "God, you're beautiful," he whispered, leaning in for a long kiss.

     "I probably look like I just got hit by a truck."

     "And it said "Ellison Drilling" on the side of it," Jim teased. 
Blair snorted a laugh, still snuggled against his chest. 

     "Man, somebody has a high opinion of himself."

     "Is that a complaint?"  Jim patted Blair's butt, then settled both
hands there, kneading the cheeks.  He rolled onto his back, pulling
Blair on top of him.  Blair twined his fingers, laying his palms down on
Jim's chest, and rested his chin there.  

     "Nope," Blair said through a huge yawn.  "No complaints."  He
purred in satisfaction at the little massage his buttocks were getting.  
"We need to talk."

     "Blair, I don't know what to say about what happened--"

     "I don't mean about that exactly.  I know you said something
about a vision making you come to me, but I need to know what
happened."

     "There are some things I didn't tell you before," Jim said,
moving his hands up to stroke Blair's back.  "Before...you moved out of
the loft, I had a dream.  I was in the jungle, and I saw a wolf running
through the trees.  I had a crossbow, and..."  Jim hesitated, bringing one
hand up to push Blair's hair back and tuck it behind his ear.  "I shot it,"
he said, his voice almost non-existent.

     "You shot the panther in your dreams, too, love.  It's symbolic
of something.  I understand that."  Blair kissed Jim's chin.

     "When it fell...it...transformed.  Into you."

     "So it was as if you'd shot *me*--or that's how it felt, right?"

     "More or less, yeah.  I didn't understand it.  I thought maybe it
meant you were in danger...from me somehow.  Maybe it was symbolic
of the way things were between us...  Then I thought it was prophetic...
once I felt the need to clear everything out, all that craziness..."  Jim
paused, grateful when Blair leaned down for another kiss. 

     "Apparently, the wolf is my spirit guide.  I saw myself as a wolf
in the vision we shared when I was revived."

     "Last night, I had a dream, and in it, the wolf was howling.  It
was a sad, horrible...mournful sound...and I felt this...despair...  I had to
come to you."  Jim pulled Blair in close, kissing him, kissing his
cheeks, his eyes, the tip of his nose.  "I had to do something."

     "I had a nightmare last night.  I mean, one of those huge,
grandaddy of all nightmares, nightmare."  Blair shuddered a bit at the
memory, glad to be held tightly in Jim's arms now as he thought back
of the feelings he'd had the night before.  "You weren't there...you
know, like usual, to wake me up.  I guess Hutch and my dad heard
me...I was hyperventilating..."

     "Panic attack?"  Jim asked gently, squeezing Blair in his arms,
stroking his hair. 

     "Major panic attack.  Hutch said one of his cousins used to have
them, so he knew how to deal with me.  I just wanted to be with you so
much right then.  Like this."  Blair emphasized his words by nuzzling
Jim's neck.  

     "I knew you needed me.  I didn't understand how or why, but I
knew I had to be with you."

     "It was really awful, Jim," Blair whispered.

     "The nightmare, honey?"

     "About Jensen...and...my mom...  I guess you probably usually
wake me up before it gets that bad.  When I woke up, I couldn't
breathe.  It was like...like I was feeling what she...must've felt when..." 
Blair dissolved into tears, and buried his face against Jim's neck.  

     "Oh, honey, I'm sorry."  Jim rubbed Blair's back in long strokes. 
"Shhh.  I'm here, baby.  It's okay."  He kissed Blair's hair and rested his
head against Blair's.  

     "I don't wanna think about it anymore, Jim."

     "I know.  I know you don't."  Jim kissed the side of Blair's head. 
"It hasn't been very long, sweetheart.  Just since fall, and then this
happened..."

     "I'm glad you're here."

     "So am I, honey.  So am I," Jim responded softly, patting Blair's
back lightly.  When the tears had settled and Blair was lying there
quietly, Jim picked up his hand and laced their fingers.  "I'm so sorry I
hurt you, baby.  Put you through all this...*stuff* so soon after your
mom."

     "When I woke up?  It was like I lost...*everything*.  I lost my
mom, and I lost you, too," Blair managed, swallowing hard.  

     "You'll never lose me, baby.  Never."

     "What if...what if someday, there's another--"

     "Blair, listen to me."  Jim took the damp, miserable face in both
hands and looked directly into Blair's wet eyes.  "I know you don't have
any reason to believe this after what went down with Alex, but I give
you my word now.  You will never lose me, at least never because I
walk away.  I don't want anyone else.  Not now, not tomorrow, not
ever.  Are we clear?"

     "I believe you," Blair said, his voice a little weak.  "I'm scared
to, but...I believe you."

     "Don't be scared, baby.  Just believe."  Jim kissed both eyelids,
then Blair's lips again.  

********

     Hutch stopped the car in front of the house and both men got
out, heading for the front door.  

     "I just hope everything's going okay.  I mean, tomorrow's Blair's
birthday, and I was thinkin' we could do something special."  Starsky
was sorting the mail they'd picked up at their post office box in town.  

     "He would have been in Cascade tomorrow if Jim hadn't shown
up when he did."

     "I'm trying to figure out how to top that laptop you got him,"
Starsky said, grinning affectionately at his partner.  "Thanks for doing
that, babe.  I know it meant a lot to Blair...and it meant a lot to me."

     "Any kid of yours is a kid of mine, Starsk.  You oughtta know
that."  Hutch flopped an arm around Starsky's shoulders as Starsky's
slid around his waist.  

     "Love you, blondie," Starsky said, planting a kiss on Hutch's
mouth before turning his key in the front door lock.  There were voices
and laughter coming from the kitchen.  

     "Doesn't sound like Ellison exactly traumatized him by showing
up, does it?  Relax, Starsk.  They're gonna be okay," Hutch said, as he
pushed the door shut and led the way to the kitchen.  

     Blair was trying diligently to chop up the ingredients for a stir
fry, and Jim was insisting on "helping" by pressing himself against
Blair's back, with his chin hooked over the shorter man's shoulder, his
arms coming around each side, hands getting more in Blair's way than
helping him.  Both men were dressed in tank shirts and shorts, hair still
damp from the shower.  

     "Hi, guys!  Hope you don't mind that we started dinner," Blair
said cheerily.  

     "Not as long as you're gonna put some meat in with that rabbit
food, kiddo," Starsky teased, checking out the array of vegetables Blair
was trying to chop despite the appendage on his back.  "Jim," Starsky
greeted, forcing a slight smile that looked like it was physically painful.

     "Starsky--good to see you again.  Sorry about the surprise visit." 
Jim moved off Blair slightly, though still kept his hand on Blair's back.  

     "I'm not," Blair said, looking up at Jim with unadulterated love
and happiness.  

     "I guess I'm sorry for the lapse in manners, not the visit," Jim
said, kissing the upturned face.  

     "If Blair's happy, I'm happy," Starsky said, smiling but making
significant eye contact with Jim.  The unspoken flipside of the
statement came through loud and clear.  

     "Any progress with the Alex Barnes situation?"  Hutch said. 

     "I don't think she's in Cascade.  I think she's coming after us, but
she wasn't there yet.  Which is why we should probably go home."

     "I don't agree," Hutch said simply, washing his hands and
pulling chicken out of the refrigerator to go with Blair's veggies.  "Four
heads are better than two."

     "We have a whole police force in Cascade," Jim said. 

     "Surprisingly enough, we have a police force here in Bay City,
too," Hutch responded, chuckling.  "And you have two more people to
help out who understand what you're facing.  I mean, *really*
understand it."

     "He's got a point, Jim.  Simon and Megan know about the
Sentinel thing but--"

     "Whoa, whoa, whoa!"  Jim interrupted.  "Simon and *Megan*
know about the Sentinel thing?"  he demanded, moving completely
away from Blair, who had gone white as a sheet when he realized his
slip of the tongue.  

     "Uh...I mean...I was going to tell you about that but--"

     "Like you were going to tell me about Alex, huh?  This is
getting to be a pattern, Chief!"  Jim shot back loudly, not realizing at
first that he was looming over Blair a bit aggressively.

     "Back off.  Don't talk to him that way," Starsky said angrily,
physically placing himself between Jim and Blair.  

     "Maybe if you'd start minding your own goddamn business, I
might be able to get something resolved here!"  Jim shouted back.  

     "You listen to me and you hear me, Ellison," Starsky countered,
completely undeterred and uninterested in Jim's bellow of anger. 
"Blair can put up with whatever shit he wants to from you, but when
you're in this house, you'll use him with respect or you'll get the hell
out.  And let me tell you one more thing--if you ever put him through
something like this again, there ain't gonna be a hole deep enough for
you to hide your sorry ass in!"

     "Are you finished?"  Jim responded, his face as stiff as if it had
been carved in granite.

     "You're both finished," Blair interjected angrily.  "This isn't a
family argument here.  This is between Jim and me to iron out.  Dad, I
love you for caring enough about me to *get* in the middle of it, but I
have to handle this myself."

     "Blair's right, Starsk," Hutch spoke up.  "I think we all need to
take a step back from this before someone says or does something they
can't take back."

     "The only one I see here who seems to be free to vent whatever
feeling he's havin' at the moment is Ellison, and the one gettin' hit in
the face with it every time is *my* son.  I don't like it.  Did it ever
occur to you that maybe he isn't talkin' to you 'cause you're not
listening?  Because all you're doin' is yellin' at him when you're talkin'
to him at all?"

     "I'm not going to justify my actions to you, Starsky.  This has
got nothing to do with you."

     "Why don't you guys both just cool it?  I'm here, I can speak for
myself--a fact that both of you overlook when you get going on each
other--and maybe we can clear all this up if I can get a word in
edgewise!  Now since everybody's gotten involved in this discussion,
this is how it went down.  I had the book on Sentinels with me in Sierra
Verde, and Megan found it.  She put two and two together on her own. 
It wasn't until pretty late in the game in Sierra Verde that she
confronted me with it.  I had more on my mind than that, and I just
didn't have time to tell you about it," Blair concluded.  "So Megan
knows, but only because she figured it out by herself and there's not
much I could do about that."

     "Does Simon know she knows?"

     "Yeah, he knows."

     "I'm sorry I bit your head off, Chief.  I guess I thought you were
keeping it from me.  Compared to everything else, it probably seemed
pretty minor to you."

     "It wasn't minor, but you're right, with everything else that was
going on, it got lost in the shuffle.  I'm sorry about that.  I should have
told you right away, but by the time we were spending time together
again, things were falling apart, and talking about Megan was the last
thing on my mind."

     "If no one is going to throw any punches, could we finish
making dinner?"  Hutch asked, pulling out a wok to hold the
ingredients.  

     "I'd suggest one of you set the table, but can either one of you
be trusted with the cutlery?"  Blair asked, holding out a stack of plates. 
Starsky accepted them. 

     "Give *him* the knives.  I've got my piece and I can't shoot an
unarmed man--need to even up the odds a little for the police report." 
Starsky took the stack with him, winking at Blair.  

     "Nothing like dinner with the in-laws," Jim grumbled, taking
the silverware and dutifully going to set the table.  

     "Set the one in the dining area," Hutch directed before Starsky
could land at the kitchen table with the plates.  The two men who had
been at each other's throats moments ago trudged through the door into
the dining area that was part of the spacious, L-shaped living room.

     "They'll either smooth things over or kill each other," Blair said,
scraping the contents of his cutting board into the wok Hutch had
placed there with the cut up chicken in it.  

     "I think your father is having a little trouble adjusting to being a
dad and not getting to take care of a kid.  I hope his overprotective
streak doesn't cause you too many problems."

     "It's nice.  It means a lot to me that he cares that much, it's just
that...things feel kind of shaky yet with Jim and me, you know?  We
had a really good afternoon--and things are good, but they're not stable
yet like they were."

     "Everybody's a little touchy and edgy right now.  You are with
each other, Starsky is because of what he saw you go through because
of Jim, Jim's probably feeling a little defensive anyway...and we're all
wondering what's up with this Alex Barnes thing."

     "I don't want to lure her here.  She's bad news, Hutch.  I don't
want to bring that down on you guys.  I'd have never shown up here if
I'd known that she was out and might follow me here."

     "We'll get a strategy figured out for dealing with that threat if it
comes to pass."  Hutch produced a bottle of white wine from the
refrigerator.  "For now, let's just try to have a nice meal and get through
it without a rumble of some sort, and then we'll talk more about the
case."

********

     Starsky doled out the plates, and watched as Jim added the
silverware.  

     "Blair's trying to make us work together so we don't kill each
other," Starsky said evenly, watching his occasional adversary put the
last fork in place.  

     "Is it working?"  Jim asked, straightening up from his task.  

     "The jury's still out."

     "Just for the record, I know I put Blair through hell with all this. 
I don't feel any better about it from my perspective than you do from
yours."

     "I think if you'd seen him when he got here, you'd understand
why I don't want to see him get hurt again.  He was a pretty sick man,
Jim.  We have a good friend who is a doctor, and she was willing to see
him here, so we didn't have to take him to the hospital.  But there were
a few nights where one of us had to be with him all night, battling a
high fever, making sure he didn't choke to death on one of those
coughing jags...  I was afraid I was gonna lose him for a couple days
there."

     "Nobody feels worse about what happened that I do.  As for
Blair getting sick, I had no idea he was sick, and going our separate
ways was *not* my idea.  I'm not blaming him, but Blair left on his
own."

     "I know that."  Starsky leaned on the back of one of the dining
room chairs.  "I don't know how much of this Sentinel mating urge
hocus pocus I buy, and I don't like what you did to my son.  If you hurt
him that way again, you're gonna hear from me.  Now I might as well
put it right out there because that feeling isn't gonna change anytime
soon."

     "I got your message loud and clear in the kitchen."  Jim crossed
his arms over his chest.  "I'm not crazy about what happened myself."

     "Maybe you ought to stop calling it 'what happened' and take
some responsibility for it.  See, I hear Blair comin' up with all'a these
excuses for you, for why none of this is really your fault, and now I see
you standin' here lettin' him do it."

     "You don't know everything there is to know about what's gone
on between us, and you're not going to, because that's where it belongs--
between Blair and me."  Jim sighed.  "If you're worried that I don't feel
guilty about what happened, don't lose any sleep over it.  I feel guilty, if
that makes you feel better."

     "Actually, it does.  Blair's in love with you.  He'll excuse you
right down the line.  It makes me feel a hell of a lot better to know that
you're a little more objective about yourself and that you're not just
usin' him because he loves you too much to know when to walk away."

     "I don't really expect anyone else to understand this situation. 
It's bizarre...I don't totally understand it myself."

     "Whatever goes down with this, all I ask is that you be good to
Blair and don't hurt him again.  I know I can't stop that from happening
if it's gonna happen, but he doesn't have it coming, and I think you
know that."

     "I don't have any plans to hurt Blair."

     "You didn't plan it this time, either.  Just try puttin' him as high
up on your list'a priorities as he puts you on his."

     "He *is* my top priority."
     
     "Good.  Make sure he feels like it from now on.  You know he
deserves that."

     "Yeah, he does.  This mess with Alex was never about love--and
 certainly not about a lack of love for Blair.  It was something
else...primitive."

     "Blair already took me down that road."

     "And you didn't buy it, is that it?"

     "I think every man walkin' around is responsible for what he
does, unless he's retarded or crazy.  You never struck me as either of
the two, so no, frankly, I don't buy it.  Blair does, and it makes it easier
for him to handle it to see it that way.  So I guess that has to be water
under the bridge.  I also know that no ultimatum I lay out for you is
gonna change what you end up doin'.  But as long as Hutch and I are
alive, Blair has a home here where he's loved and valued and
supported, and where *nobody* intimidates him or wipes their feet on
him without answering to us."

     "I'm glad Blair has you both.  If anything happened to me--line
of duty or otherwise--it's good to know there's someplace he could go
where he'd have family."

     "I think we understand each other."

     "I think so too."

     "Think it's time to bury the hatchet?"  Starsky moved forward
and extended a hand.   Jim chuckled as he shook the extended hand.

     "Provided it's not in the back of my head."

     "Not as long as you behave yourself," Starsky quipped, and Jim
just laughed and shook his head.  Incorrigibility and bull-headedness
was obviously an inherited trait.

********

     The four men ate a surprisingly harmonious meal in the dining
room, and made plans to celebrate Blair's birthday the following night. 
Once the meal and more pleasant conversation had passed, the issue of
Alex Barnes was raised.

     "I don't like the fact she's making all the moves here," Hutch
said, drumming his long fingers on the table top.  "We're sitting back
on the defensive, waiting for her to strike.  She holds all the cards."  He
leaned forward in his chair.  "Is there any way to channel
this...*sensitivity* to her you seem to have?"  he asked Jim.  "Is there
some way for us to detect where she is...to *track* her, rather than
sitting here and waiting for her to show up?"

     "You tracked her in the jungle," Blair said, turning to Jim.

     "That was a little different, Chief.  We were both being guided
to the temple," he said, then caught sight of the blank look the other
two men exchanged.  "It's a long story."

     "Sounds like one we can do without," Starsky responded. 
"Aside from whatever weird shit was going on in Sierra Verde, can you
track her more effectively than other law enforcement?  I know you
have what amounts to tracking dog-level abilities to follow someone,
but beyond that.  Do you *know* when she's around?"

     "How much of this do you want to know?  Maybe I should ask
how much you're prepared to believe?"  Jim asked.

     "Whatever we need to in order to solve this case," Hutch spoke
up.  "This temple thing--is that significant?"

     "Deep in the jungle, there was an ancient temple--the Temple of
the Sentinels.  It was there that Alex found the instructions for making
this *potion* of some sort that enhances Sentinel senses."  Jim rubbed
the bridge of his nose.  She claimed her senses were already twice what
they had been when she lured me in there, and then she gave me a gulp
of the stuff."  Jim shuddered.  "It was weird.  Intense."

     "You didn't tell me any of this--anything about a potion or
heightening your senses--when were *you* gonna level with *me*?" 
Blair asked, his eyes widening a little.  

     "Maybe after we got past what happened with Alex," he
responded, his tone not in the least combative.  "I don't know, Chief. 
Maybe when *I* understood it."

     "This potion she made was described on the *walls*?  Jim, I
could have taken rubbings of that stuff if I'd known.  Why didn't you
*tell* me?"

     "Because I didn't want anyone else to know what that was, what
it meant.  I know what it did to me, and I didn't want anyone to have
that power over me."

     "You didn't trust me with it?"

     "I didn't want it to end up as part of your research, because
frankly, it's too dangerous.  It was that stuff that eventually led Alex to
frying her senses."

     "They're apparently not totally fried if she escaped," Starsky
interjected.

     "No, probably not.  She most likely recovered at a point, and
faked the catatonic state for an unknown span of time until an
opportunity to escape presented itself."
     
     "You said she gave you some of it.  What happened?"  Blair
asked, watching Jim intently.

     "A chaotic...*frightening* panorama of dreams and visions.  I
didn't understand them, but...none of them were good.  Maybe by
leading her away from Cascade...maybe I can prevent it."

     "Prevent what?"  Blair prodded.

     "I'm not sure, exactly.  Something major is going to happen, and
it's going to be...disastrous.  People we know...and love...could be
hurt..."

     "Then leading her here isn't a good idea either."

     "I didn't see anything involving Starsky and Hutch," Jim
responded.  

     "Then who?"

     "Simon...Megan...something about headquarters, but I don't
know who or how or when..."  Jim stood up and started pacing.  "I
called to Incacha for help, and he told me to find my light."  Jim
paused and slipped a hand beneath Blair's chin, raising his face until
their eyes met.  "And guess whose face I saw?"  

     "I was your light?"  Blair asked, seemingly mesmerized by the
thought.  

     "You always were, sweetheart."  Jim knelt by Blair's chair. 
"Losing you was the one thing I feared more than any of the other
visions I saw.  And I almost made it happen myself."

     "You won't lose me, Jim."

     "No, you're right, because I'm not going to risk it again." 

     "I think we missed something here," Hutch spoke up. 
"Incacha?"

     "He was a Chopec Shaman."  Jim straightened up and sat in his
chair again, but he took one of Blair's hands in both of his.  "I had my
heightened senses as a child, but as I said before, they went...offline for
a while.  When I was in the Army, I ended up lost in the jungle in Peru
for eighteen months, and I lived with the Chopec tribe there.  My
senses were online there, though I admit there are chunks of that time I
don't remember too clearly.  Incacha guided me, and he was my best
friend--until I met Blair."  Jim kissed the back of the hand he was
holding, and Blair squeezed his hand, grinning.  "Incacha came to
Cascade with other members of his tribe to try to stop illegal
destruction of the rainforests.  He was murdered by a corrupt executive
at Cyclops Oil.  Before he died, he passed the Way of the Shaman on to
Blair--passed on to Blair the responsibility for guiding me.  Not that he
wasn't already doing that."

     "Then Incacha coming to you in this dream was some sort of
contact from beyond the grave?"  Starsky asked.

     "It was a vision.  I don't know how it happened."

     "I'm probably just dense, and missing something really obvious
here, but how is any of this going to help us find this woman and nail
her?"  Starsky asked.

     "It probably isn't, beyond realizing that there's more to this than
a simple manhunt--and that my abilities for tracking Alex Barnes aren't
as cut and dried as having me sniff a piece of her clothing and turning
me loose in the woods."

     "Worked in Sierra Verde," Blair quipped, then chuckled
devilishly as Jim grabbed him in a completely harmless headlock.

     "You're a real smart ass, aren't you?" he demanded playfully,
loving this moment of laughing with Blair, despite all the danger and
uncertainty they still both faced.  Most of all, he loved that Blair was
laughing.  That delighted, wonderful laugh of his that lit up his whole
being.  He smacked a loud kiss on the top of Blair's hostage head
before releasing him.  "What am I gonna do with you?"

     "If you figure it out, let me know.  After thirty years of knowing
Mr. Wonderful over here, I still haven't figured out what to do with
*him*," Hutch said, finishing off the last of his wine.

     "We're still on the defensive.  We still don't know what the next
move is going to be, and she still gets to make it."  Starsky stood up,
and now it was his turn to pace.  "I agree with Hutch--I don't like that." 
He paused.  "Where do you think she is now?"  he asked Jim. 

     "Not in Cascade, not here, but getting closer."

     "You think she's after you and Blair."

     "Yes.  I think she's after me..."  Jim paused, looking at Blair.  "I
think she wants to make a connection with me, to get Blair out of the
way so we can be together."  He looked back up at Starsky, satisfied
that since Blair himself had reached that conclusion about the vision,
hearing it again hadn't shocked him.   "When I left Cascade, I felt she
was getting closer, but I also felt Blair needed me, and that mattered
more."  He looked back at Blair, then took a hold of his hand again.  "It
will from now on," he vowed to Blair, who squeezed his hand in
response.  

     "She can probably track you much the way you track her
progress."  Hutch frowned in concentration, silent for a few moments. 
"How long do you figure before she makes her move here?  We know
she's going to make one."

     "My best guess would be that she'll do something to create a
diversion.  Something that will distract us, get our guard down."

     "While we're dealing with that, she'll make her real move,"
Hutch concluded.

     "It's just a theory, but it's what I'd envision from her--it's what
she did before, when she went after Blair.  She lured me to meet her,
led us all off on a wild goose chase, and we were almost too late..." 
Jim's hand flexed on Blair's, but he continued.  "She's smart, and she
knows now that not only am I with Blair, but that we've holed up here
with reinforcements, so now it's four against one.  She's going to want
to even those odds, or at least change them a bit in her favor."  Jim
paused.  "It would be safer for the two of you if we got out of here
tonight."

     "You're not going anywhere," Starsky spoke up.  "First off, we
never backed down from a challenge like this, but most importantly--
we're family, and family sticks together in a crisis.  You're exactly
where you both belong.  There's strength in numbers."  

     "Maybe we need to throw her off balance," Hutch suggested. 
"I'm supposed to speak at a law enforcement seminar in San Francisco
in two days.  If we've heard nothing of Alex by say, tomorrow night,
we're going to let her think that Starsky and I are both making the trip. 
I have reservations, but we'll make reservations for Starsky as well--I'll
take care of that tomorrow.  We'll make a fairly obvious display of
leaving, but not too obvious--especially if you sense she's in the area. 
Now can she hear inside the house--to eavesdrop on our
conversations?"

     "If her abilities are comparable to Jim's, and they seem to be,
she could hear every word we said in here from outside," Blair
responded.

     "Then the key to this working is that the instant you feel she's in
the area," Hutch turned to Jim, "you let us know that in a manner that
won't tip her off no matter what kind of surveillance she has us under." 
He was quiet a moment.  "If it's in the middle of the night, get up, go to
the den, and take the book called '1001 Little Known Facts' off the shelf
and thumb through it as if you're unable to sleep and looking for
something to read.  Then lay it on the seat of the brown recliner, and
take a different book back to your room.  Read a little while.  Chances
are you'll disturb Blair, and he'll know what you're doing.  Starsky and I
won't say anything to give ourselves away until we've checked the den
to see if the book's been left out."

     "That's great, provided there's no immediate threat," Blair spoke
up.

     "If there's an immediate threat, you both come and get us and
we'll have shootout with her if we have to," Starsky retorted.  "We
aren't going to play games if she's making a move.  We're gonna be
ready to hit back.  Hard."

     "Through the day, if we're all up and around, and you get the
feeling she's nearby, ask me about my seminar topic," Hutch suggested. 
"If you ask me about that, I'm going to assume it means Alex is
nearby."

     "Or you can ask me the same question if Hutch isn't around,"
Starsky added.

     "Right.  Either one of you.  This way, we won't be using a
verbal clue she can pick up, nor will we be relying on hand signals or
written notes or anything else that exceptional visual surveillance could
detect."

     "Let's say she doesn't surface, and the two of you head out for
San Francisco.  Then what?"  Jim asked.

     "Don't worry about us.  We've been losin' tails for years,"
Starsky said, grinning.  "We'll head for the airport, pick up our ticket
and go to the final boarding call.  But we won't be on the plane."
     
     "How do you propose to come back here if she's got the house
under surveillance?  She'll spot you."  Jim got up and started pacing.  "I
don't like it.  I think it's great for us to have some cues to use in case
she's in the area, but I think the two of you attempting surveillance
from elsewhere is useless, because she'll spot you and know it's a set
up."

     "Not necessarily," Blair spoke up.  "If they're in disguise, come
back in a different vehicle...  If there's some way for them to be
hanging around within sight of the house without arousing her
suspicion...  Look, we don't have any reason to assume that she's ever
seen either my dad or Hutch in person.  If their appearances were
altered, why would she necessarily recognize them?  I mean, it's not
like you recognizing me, for instance, based on my scent or my
heartbeat or something you'd pick up on that was familiar."

     "That's true," Jim agreed, nodding.  

     "Don't worry about us.  We'll figure something out," Hutch said. 
"There's a lot of beach out there, and having some powerful binoculars
makes sense if you spend time gazing out at the ocean and looking for
boats.  We could be just two beach bums camping out under the stars."

     "I'm not even gonna ask how you'll make the switch," Blair said,
laughing.

     "I am," Jim countered, genuinely interested.

     "We'll go the airport and make it as far as the final boarding call
for the plane.  We'll get on the plane, but get off somehow--that part
needs ironing out...  Huggy will park a different vehicle at the airport
for us tomorrow.  We'll change into our disguises in the rest room, then
take the other vehicle back out here to the beach, where we'll 'trespass'
onto our own property and go set up camp on the beach--maybe in that
little alcove of rock...  What?"  Hutch caught the exchanged sly look
between Jim and Blair.  "Did you two think you were the only ones to
discover that?"

     "It was a major selling point for the house," Starsky added,
waggling his eyebrows at Hutch, who just chortled and shook his head.  

     "To return to our topic--" 

     "Sex on the beach?"  Starsky supplied helpfully.

     "Our surveillance, moron," Hutch shot back.

     "Oh," Starsky said, nodding, not in the least dissuaded from
shooting a grin and wink in Blair's direction.

     "If we have the binoculars, we can see the house from there. 
We need to work out a signal from you two."

     "How about the back porch light?"  Blair suggested.

     "Reliant on power, and if that's cut off, you'd be in trouble,"
Starsky said.  

     "Can you see if shades are up or down from that distance?"  Jim
asked.

     "We can see if the patio drapes are closed, since those are big
windows.  Close them to exactly halfway if you're in trouble, or if she's
in the area."

     "That works," Jim nodded.  

********

     "You really think this trip idea is going to work?"  Hutch asked,
setting the alarm while Starsky tossed his robe aside and got into his
side of the bed.  

     "Sure.  This woman isn't some kind of super hero.  We know
she's got exceptional abilities, but that's all.  I think we can outwit her." 
Starsky turned out the light on his night stand.  "You gonna read? 
We'll be gettin' up in about five hours, babe."  Hutch's bedside lamp
still burned.

     "Did you manage to settle things with Jim?"  he asked, still
leaning up on one elbow.  

     "I think so.  Look, I know everybody, including Blair, thinks I
oughtta mind my own business.  And I'm tryin'.  But you saw what was
left of Blair when he got here.  Ellison did that."

     "He didn't give him pneumonia and he didn't tell him to leave
town.  Blair developed the pneumonia as part of the drowning incident,
and he struck out on his own with that pick up truck."

     "Draggin' him through the jungles when he was fresh outta the
hospital didn't do him any good.  And Ellison's the one who threw all
his stuff in boxes--broke some of it--and told him to get out. 
Everybody seems to forget that.  Just because he didn't tell him to get
outta town doesn't mean he isn't responsible for Blair bein' without a
place to stay.  Where else would he go?  He came to family."

     "You don't like Jim too much, do you?  Or is he just not good
enough for your kid?"  Hutch asked, no real reproach in his voice.

     "I like him fine.  He's a good cop, got great instincts on the
job...  As for him bein' good enough, at the risk of pullin' out an old
cliche, when he's good he's very good, when he's bad, he's terrible."

     "I think you've screwed up that quote a little, babe."

     "You get my point," Starsky said, uncharacteristically unwilling
to spar about his altered quotation reference.  "Blair's crazy about the
guy, and when I see them together, they seem like they were meant for
each other.  Then Ellison goes and pulls shit like he did, and tears Blair
up like that, and I don't know what to think.  I didn't like the way he
was talkin' to him in the kitchen, either.  Is that the way he usually talks
to him when we're not around?  I don't like seein' big guys loom over
guys who are smaller.  Especially when the smaller one is my kid."

     "Do you think Blair would be in love with him, and living with
him, if he treated him that way as a matter of habit?"  Hutch asked,
turning out the light, figuring the interrogation lamp approach wasn't
necessary anymore.

     "I hope not."  Starsky let out a tired sigh.  "I don't think so, but
then I haven't known him all his life either."

     "I don't think he would."  Hutch was quiet a moment, staring at
the ceiling.  "I think you need to trust Blair's judgment, and let him
work out his own salvation with his relationship.  If Ellison says or
does anything abusive that Blair can't field on his own, you'll have to
get in line to step in and help, because I'll be doing the same thing.  But
I don't see that happening.  I think they're a couple who love each other
who are having one of the oldest couple problems in the book--some
sort of sexually-oriented *straying*.  They want to work it out.  We
shouldn't complicate that."

     "I know you're right."

     "But you still want to lock Blair in his room and throw Ellison
out the front door?"

     "Something like that, yeah," Starsky responded, laughing softly. 
"Blair's obviously past being angry with him.  I'm not all the way there
yet."

     "Think you ever will be?"

     "Maybe.  Ask me in a couple months, huh?"  Starsky teased,
looking over at his partner.

     "For what it's worth, babe, I think you're a great dad.  Just try
not to go into overdrive on the kid--and try to keep your teeth out of
Ellison's backside, okay?"  

     "Okay," Starsky agreed, grinning and weaseling his way under
Hutch's arm, resting his head on his lover's chest.  "Night, darlin'."

     "'Night, Starsk.  Love you, babe," Hutch added softly.  He
smiled when he felt Starsky smile widely against his chest.

     "Love you too, blintz."

********