B.J Sandburg

Part 12.

by Gillian 

Jim peered around the corner, and then quickly pulled his head back. "Damn, two here as well."

"Then this must be the place." Blair kept his back to the wall. "Why else would they have armed goons at both entrances?"

"Damnit, where's that backup?" Jim cursed, flicking a glance at his watch. "If I take the back door the goons at the front could be inside killing the hostage before I can get to her."

Blair raised on brow. "How about a diversion?" he suggested.

Jim quirked an impatient grin. "Good idea, we can let them blow holes in you for a while, that'll keep em busy."

Blair returned his grin, then tried out the sultry look he'd been practising in the mirror. He pulled off his flannel shirt and tossed it by the wall, then began unbuttoning the white cotton shirt he was wearing underneath.

"What are you doing?"

"Creating a diversion," Blair replied, unbuttoning the shirt to the waist and letting it blouse open, revealing the tight singlet he wore underneath. He'd given up on brassieres in the first week, opting instead for a nice tight singlet or t-shirt under his usual loose clothing. He hated the torturous bras, but that loose unbound feeling was much worse.

Jim shook his head. "Easy, Chief," he said, pulling the two sides of the shirt back together. "It's too dangerous. Besides, I've been the only one to get a glimpse of those guys so far, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Blair cast a grinning glance down at the 'guys' in question. "Uh, sorry, Jim, too late. Remind me to tell you about the communal dressing rooms at the stores Megan takes me to."

Jim looked arrested for a moment. "I will," he swore. He looked at his watch again and then sighed impatiently. "I'm gonna tear Rafe a new one when I see him," he muttered. "Okay, Chief, but don't take any risks. Keep them talking, and I'll try to take the guys at the back out as quietly as possible."

Blair pulled his shirt back open, then slapped Jim on the arm companionably. You had to love Jim. He huffed and puffed about dangerous situations, but when it came right down to it he trusted Blair to decide what he could or couldn't handle.

Mostly.

Occasionally he did push.

Blair dismissed the distracting thought and took a deep breath, then casually turned the corner, wandering down the street. It was easy to slip into a swaying walk, in fact it was second nature by now. Something about these rounded hips made him want to sway just that little bit as he strolled.

He could feel the interested stares of the two goons as he approached, and he couldn't help the tiny thrill of gratification. It was pretty flattering to draw interested glances from the men he met. Could be heady too.

He paused when he reached the store-front, peering up at a road sign wondering just how far he'd have to go with this. One of the goons made it easy for him.

"Hey, baby, looking for something?" one called over.

"Maybe I have what you need," the other one said, obviously playing up more for his friends benefit than out of any real hope of scoring.

Blair assumed his best brainless expression and turned a look on them. "I'm looking for the Rossi Deli," he said breathlessly, trying to make his eyes wider.

The taller thug looked at his friend and then stepped forward. "Now let's see," he said, reaching out one paw and putting it on Blair's arm. "I don't think I know a Rossi Deli. Lenny?" he appealed to his fellow creep.

Blair turned the full force of his dimples on the shorter one. "I'm new in town," he said breathlessly. "And I'm supposed to be meeting a friend at the deli."

"A guy friend?" Lenny asked cynically.

"You work fast," the taller one breathed over him, moving his meaty hand up Blair's arm. The young woman resisted the urge to rip it off like an old bandaid. Did this creep really think women got off on being called 'baby', and pawed like so much fruit?

Maybe some did?

Nah.

Maybe, like him, they just pretended they did to get what they needed?

Blair looked down and giggled. "A girl friend," he stressed, wishing he could fake a blush. Then the tall creep moved his hand down to Blair's hip, and his face sizzled to life all by itself. Anger was a powerful tool, and the minute Blair heard a shot from inside the store he unleashed it, swinging a powerhouse punch at tall, dark and gruesome's nose.

He reeled back, unfortunately not going down, but certainly out of the way for the moment. Lenny was cursing and turning for the door and Blair went for the back of his leg, kicking him once, causing his knee to double up beneath him. Before he could finish the job with a disabling kick to the throat the door swung open from within, and Jim was standing there panting, gun in hand.

"Way to take the bad guys out quietly, Jim," Blair scolded.

Jim took in the situation at a glance. Lenny attempted to stand and Jim stood on one hand, keeping his gun trained on the tall idiot whose name Blair had never learned. "Sorry, Chief."

"Was the hostage there?" Blair's question was answered a moment later when a frightened face peered over Jim's shoulder.

"It's okay, Mrs. Rudnick," Jim said reassuringly. He cocked his head. "The cavalry is about to arrive."

"Late as always," Blair muttered, stepping back out of the scene. Simon was pretty good about him tagging along with Jim on the street, but he had a low threshold when it came to sweet little B.J actually participating in anything violent. Fortunately it didn't happen very often.

The back-up arrived, armed with enough hand cuffs for everybody. Simon pulled up as the last of them was being eased into the back of the paddy wagon.

"Good work!" he said jovially. "Good work, Jim! How's Mrs. Rudnick?"

"She's fine." Jim pointed to the paramedic's van where the ex-hostage was sitting with a blanket wrapped around her. "I haven't told her about her husband yet."

Simon's mouth turned down. "Guess that's my job." He turned his gaze to Blair. "B.J, you weren't here when this was going down, were you?"

Blair smiled easily. "Only peripherally," he prevaricated.

"Hmm." Simon chewed on his cigar. "You know, sometimes I can just close my eyes and hear Sandburg's voice coming out of your mouth," he accused. "I'll hold my breath waiting to read the report."

Blair stifled a giggle and looked at Jim, who rolled his eyes back at him. "I look forward to reading it too," Jim said.

Blair glanced at his watch and swore. "You'll have to write this one yourself, Jim. If I don't leave now I'll miss lunch with Mom."

Jim sketched a wave. "Take the truck," he invited, already turning away. "I'll catch a ride back in one of the squad cars."

Blair squashed the urge to plant a big wet one on Jim, right here in front of god and everybody, and hurried back down the alley to the truck.

********

Blair ran his hands nervously over the knees of his jeans. He flipped the sunguard down and studied himself in the mirror. This was the first time he'd seen his mom since the change, and he was as nervous as he'd ever been. Not least because he had no idea what he was going to say to her, or how he was going to ask her all the questions that had been plaguing him.

And what he was going to do if she didn't have any answers for him.

And then she was there, climbing out of her hired car, waving and smiling. "Blair," she called, crossing the quiet street, arms out stretched. "I'd know you anywhere!" she said, hugging him close. Then she pulled back and studied his face, fascination in her eyes. "You're beautiful, honey!"

"Don't sound so surprised," Blair chided, surprised as always by how different this new body could still feel at times. He was about that same height female as male, but somehow the narrowness of his shoulders and rib cage had a way of making him feel much smaller and more delicate.

It could be disconcerting in a room full of detectives. It was oddly exciting in Jim's arms. And it was definitely disturbing while hugging his mom.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry I stayed away so long," his mom was saying. Blair smiled reassuringly, then frowned when he studied her face. She looked pale, and tired. For the first time he could remember, she actually looked her age.

"Mom, are you okay?" he asked in concern.

Naomi lifted a hand and touched her cheek self consciously. "Oh, sweetie, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Why don't we forget going out for lunch," Blair suggested, still feeling worried. "I can throw us together a salad upstairs."

Naomi wavered and then nodded, looking relieved.

Upstairs Blair settled his mom on the couch and then offered her a drink. "Jim bought some of that wine you like."

"Just juice for me please, Blair."

Blair poured them juice and carried the sweating glasses to the living area, depositing them on a coaster. He sat down next to his mom and reached for her hand.

"I just can't get over you!" she exclaimed, turning Blair's hand over in her own. "You're Blair, and yet not Blair. How has it been for you, sweetie? How are you coping? Oh, I have so many questions!"

"And I'm dying talk about it with you, Naomi," Blair said honestly. "But first I want you to tell me what's wrong."

Naomi reached for her juice and sipped it, carefully avoiding Blair's eyes. "Nothing serious."

"Mom," Blair pleaded softly. "I've spent the last few weeks worried to death about this. I've been waiting for the next shoe to drop, inventing conspiracy theories about The Curse, left, right and centre."

"Don't call it The Curse," Naomi said automatically, as she had for years.

Blair had to smile at the echo from the past, and Naomi met his smile with a soft one of her own.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry you were worried," she said earnestly, squeezing his hand. "That was the last thing I wanted to do. I would have loved to have been with you... But I couldn't." She squeezed his hand tightly. "I was diagnosed with cancer, Blair. A tumour."

Shock stole the breath from Blair's lungs.

"It's all right, Blair!" she cried. "Everything's fine now. I had surgery a month ago, and I've been given the all clear. I have to go back for check ups, of course..."

"A month..." Blair calculated. Just about the time he'd changed. "Mom, why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I didn't have much more than suspicions up till a six weeks or so ago. And then when the cancer was detected it was so aggressive my doctor didn't want any delay in surgery. You had just days to go before the most life altering experience you would ever know. I made the decision to leave you out of it."

"I should have been there for you, Mom," Blair said, feeling terrible. Here he'd been, so sure his Mom's absence was because of him, and him alone. "It's just Blair playing centre of the universe again," he continued in self-disgust.

Him mom shook his hand firmly. "Don't talk like that," she said reproachfully. "Of course your thoughts were turned inward during this time. Blair, look at you! You're a woman!"

Blair shook his head. "Tell me everything, Mom."

So Naomi talked, telling Blair about the worrisome pain that signaled the aggressive tumour, and the frightening days, awaiting the results of tests. Removing the tumour had involved a partial hysterectomy, and the mother and son shared a hug and a few tears over that.

"Not that there were likely to be any more babies for me," Naomi said, wiping a few stray tears. "But... It's a sad feeling, all the same."

Blair watched his mother dab at her tears, his hand drifting over his flat belly unconsciously.

"I'll just have to look forward to grandbabies, won't I?" Naomi joked, making a visible effort to lighten the mood.

Blair took the cue and forced a smile. "Actually, you came closer to that than you might think," he revealed. "That's one of the theories I came up with to explain why you were staying away."

Naomi looked intrigued. "What?"

"Well." Blair felt himself flushing. "It seems pretty silly now, but I had this bizarre thought that turning female also involved..." he trailed away, not sure how to put it.

"Involved what?" Naomi said curiously. "Babies?"

"Well, the overwhelming desire to have one," Blair revealed.

Naomi laughed into her hand. "Blair! What exactly have you been up to?"

Blair touched a hand to his cheek, surprised he hadn't burst into flames.

"You've only been a woman four weeks," Naomi marveled. "One thirteenth of your time, and you're talking about babies?" She glanced down at his stomach curiously. "Are you...?"

"No," Blair denied vigorously. "In fact I'm still a virgin, if you must know."

Naomi giggled again. "Well, honey, you're showing more restraint that I did in my time," she declared.

"I remember," Blair reminded her. "That's what got me thinking. You were awfully... social back then."

"That's a nice way to put it," Naomi smiled. "With hindsight I'll admit that I have a few regrets about that time."

"I was only twelve," Blair recalled. "But I remember how you threw yourself into it. It made me wonder if there wasn't some more primitive drive behind it all."

Naomi looked intrigued. "I never thought of that. To tell you the truth, honey, that year was a real learning experience for me, but when I think back all I remember is that it was one of the loneliest times of my life."

"Really?" Blair asked, surprised. "Why?"

"Oh, because I listened to those that came before me. They advised me to go away alone, spend that year as a totally different person. There's a kind of belief that the time spent as the other gender should be totally separate from our real lives."

"I remember coming across that when I was trying to research the family records," Blair said thoughtfully. "The ones that are left, of course."

"They even wanted me to leave you behind, but I categorically refused."

"I'm glad you didn't," Blair exclaimed. "Why didn't you?"

Naomi tousled his hair lovingly. "I couldn't leave you for a year. Besides, it was only fair you should see what was in store for you. So, how has it been for you, Blair?"

"Well, not lonely," Blair assured her. "Jim's taking really good care of me."

Naomi looked curious. "How's he taking it?"

Blair hoped he wasn't blushing. He's taking it pretty much whenever he likes, actually, Blair thought. "Oh, you know, Jim," he said aloud. "I think it freaks him out now and then, but he's doing okay."

"I'm glad you have such a good friend," Naomi said firmly.

"Me too," Blair agreed.

********

"So, Naomi is okay then?"

"So far. She has to have regular check ups, but the surgery was a complete success."

"Thank god," Jim said sincerely, pulling Blair closer.

Blair snuggled, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by Jim. It had to be a purely feminine sensation, this half-thrilled, half-excited feeling in his tummy.

"So, the mating drive theory's been thrown out the window?" Jim chuckled.

"Not necessarily," Blair defended. "I'm just thinking it might have been less obvious to mom when she changed."

"Assuming that a drive to procreate feels different to a man than a woman?" Jim said doubtfully.

"Well, less urgent anyway," Blair pointed out. "Let's face it, Jim. It takes forty weeks to grow a baby, and I only have fifty-two as a woman. What would happen if I got pregnant after the first three months?"

The other man looked stunned, and Blair felt the arms tighten around him protectively. "I never even thought of that," Jim said, in a dazed voice.

"Don't worry about it," Blair assured him. "We've got it covered, right?"

Blair shivered pleasurably as Jim's hand came up and cupped his chin. "I won't let anything happen to you, Chief," he whispered. And then his lips were covering Blair's, and his hands were drawing him closer.

Long minutes later Blair was sprawled back in Jim's bed, both hands holding Jim's head between his legs, head thrown back, groaning out muffled words of pleasure. He'd long ago overcome his fear of being overwhelmed by Jim's larger body holding him down, mostly because the older man had proved himself completely trustworthy in bed. Despite his large size and superior strength he'd never once hurt Blair, or pushed him any further than he was prepared to go.

One finger stroked around his opening and Blair shivered, sensation a fiery goad within him. At times like this, feeling Jim's hands cradling his slim hips, smelling their arousal in the very air, it was hard not to give into the urge to pull Jim up, and invite him to bury his hardness in his ripe body. Never had he been more aware of the fact that they were created one for another. He was soft where Jim was hard. He was empty and Jim could fill him.

But even if he had weakened, he sensed Jim would not. Tonight Jim was more gentle with him than ever, holding him, cherishing him. Jim had promised he would let nothing happen to him, and Blair believed him.

Afterwards Jim slept, arms still hugging Blair close. But Blair stayed awake long into the night, as he often did, watching Jim sleep.

He'd never needed as much rest as others, preferring to spend his spare night hours on academic pursuits. But for this year he had a new hobby, one he practised diligently. Studying Jim, playing over the memories of all their times together, comparing the past to the present and searching for answers.

Why? Why love? Why this man? All the tentative plans he had made for this year, the half guilty anticipation of forbidden pleasures, the fearful wonderings about the differences forced upon him, all those plans and fears seemed like smoke now. Drifting away when he tried to reach for them.

All there was now was Jim.

And when the year was over? On this he spent the most time of all. He remembered the advice Naomi had received many years before. To go away from the familiar, to cut herself off from the old life to live the year of the new. Was that wise advice after all?

If Blair had gone away he might have had the chance to experiment with all the adventures he'd planned. Date a dozen different men, and maybe even women too.

But he didn't need Naomi's revelation of that lonely year to convince him that he probably wouldn't have been happier. Tightening his arms around his lover, Blair again tried to imagine going through this without him.

He could, but the picture his active imagination painted wasn't a pretty one.

"This was all supposed to be such fun," he murmured. "When did it get so serious?"

********

Special Agent Clay Porter handed out flyers to the detectives gathered in the meeting room. "The pictures you're looking at are of approximately one point two million dollars in uncut diamonds," he said briskly. "The ransom for Sheila Rudnick, wife of jewellery store owner David Rudnick, who was murdered while delivering the ransom to the kidnappers yesterday. The kidnap victim was rescued unharmed, thanks to the efforts of Detective Ellison and his team."

Porter gave Jim a thin smile.

"But the ransom, and the brains behind the kidnapping are still at large. Personally I think the diamonds are long gone, and Interpol has been contacted and is on the lookout."

"I disagree," Jim said, which was hardly surprising, since he'd disagreed with Porter every step of the way through this case. It didn't help that it had been his case that the Feds had appropriated. "This has felt like an inside job from the beginning," he continued.

Porter grimaced stiffly. "So you've persisted in telling us," he said sarcastically. "Although you haven't mentioned how you explain Rudnick being shot dead at the ransom drop."

"Double cross," Blair said, thinking it was obvious.

"I think we should be looking more closely at the nephew," Jim asserted, and Blair nodded.

"He apprenticed with Rudnick," Blair agreed.

Porter sighed impatiently. "Except they had a fall out ten years ago and have barely spoken since. And he has an alibi. But if Major Crime wants to chase their tail following that lead, it's fine with me." He turned away, effectively dismissing them and their opinion.

"Dickweed," Jim muttered audibly. The briefing was barely over before he was up and out of the door.

Blair gathered the paperwork and made to follow, but Porter insinuated himself between him and the door.

"Sandburg, isn't it?"

Blair nodded. Anyone else and he would have smiled a little, invited them to use his first name, but Porter really rubbed him up the wrong way.

"I understand you're here as an observer?" Porter said, examining Blair with overly familiar eyes.

The young woman resisted the urge to look down and make sure all his buttons and zips were still done up. Porter was one of those creeps who seemed to undress you with his eyes. "I'm studying Criminal Science," Blair began stiffly, but Porter cut him off.

"How nice," he said abruptly. "Just remember here in the real world, you're an observer. That means you just get to sit and watch," he added with a patronising smile.

"I was just-"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," Porter said in bored tones, turning away. He turned back, sneering slightly. "If you want to be useful next time? Make the coffee."

"Son of a bitch," Blair said numbly. He took a step after the Fed, but Megan stepped in front of him.

"It's not worth it, Beej," she said in disgust. "Trust me."

"Who the hell does he think he is?"

"Just another recruit from Assholes-R-Us, or as you call it here in the States, the F.B.I."

Blair chuckled wryly. "You've been listening to Jim."

"The scary thing is, I used to think he was exaggerating about those guys," Megan laughed, taking Blair's arm and leading him away.

Still a trifle pissed, Blair looked back over his shoulder. "How do you deal with people like that your whole life?" he wondered.

"We just do," Megan shrugged. "What choice do we have?"

"Armed rebellion?" Blair suggested.

I've got a better idea," Megan smiled. "Shopping!"

Blair giggled. "I wish."

"I have to buy a dress for the weekend anyway," Megan coaxed. "I could do with some advice."

Blair looked down at his usual neat shirt and jeans. "I don't think you want fashion advice from me," he murmured.

Megan squeezed his arm. "Nonsense. It'll be fun."

"I don't have much money," Blair admitted.

"You don't need much. Window shopping is fun too."

Blair's resolve weakened. He really did need a few things. "Okay," he agreed. "Sounds like fun."

"It will be," Megan assured him. "See you at two?"

"Great." Blair watched her slim figure as she disappeared around the corner. He really liked Megan, and once upon a time he thought there might even have been something between them. But this year had loomed before him like a sentence, and it had seemed wiser not to let her too close.

Now he couldn't even picture them together as any more than friends.

He didn't need Sentinel senses to know Jim was behind him, the man's clean sexy scent teased his nostrils, curling into the pit of his stomach and doing odd things to the gusset of his panties. That was still pretty disconcerting.

He turned, trying not to reveal too much in his smile. He agreed with Jim that it was wiser to be circumspect at work. Not only did they have to work together for the year, but they also had to explain why B.J would disappear at the end of that year, never to be seen again.

"You taking off on me?" Jim said, shaking his head. "I don't know, some people have it easy."

"Being a student again has its advantages," Blair agreed, enjoying the glitter of Jim's blue eyes. If he looked closely he could see himself reflected there, and if he looked closer still he imagined he could even see Jim's approval and love.

Jim pulled out his wallet and selected a credit card, tugging it out and handing it over.

Blair took it automatically. "What?"

"Buy yourself what you need," Jim said easily, tucking his wallet back in his back pocket.

Blair looked down at the card blankly. "I can't use your credit card."

"Why not? You sign my name better than I do anyway."

"True," Blair admitted modestly. "And I know all your PIN numbers. But, Jim." He looked around, taking a step closer and lowering his voice. "I haven't been a woman for very long, but I've been around long enough to know I can't just let you buy me clothes."

"Don't make a big deal of this, Chief," Jim said comfortably. "I wanted to buy you a nice coat anyway, I just didn't know what you'd like." He folded Blair's hand around the card, stroking his fingers gently, gazing into his eyes. Blair's breath caught in his throat.

There it was.

Love.

"Buy yourself what you need, Blair," Jim said huskily. "And what you want too." With a smile he was gone, leaving Blair standing there with what was probably a goofy grin on his face. He turned, card still in hand, and found his gaze locking with Captain Simon Banks, standing at the end of the hall.

A blush stung Blair's cheeks, and he tried a smile, but Banks just stood there for a moment longer, frowning at him. Blair considered pulling out the big guns and flashing his dimples, but then Banks turned on his heel and left.

"Hmm."

********

Megan had the energy of ten toddlers when shopping, and after an hour Blair was exhausted just from watching her try on outfit after outfit, discarding them all for one reason or another.

"Oh, this would suit you," she cooed, pulling out a red satin gown with a filmy overskirt.

"Red?" Blair said doubtfully. "It's pretty bright."

Megan held it up in front of Blair and considered him, head to one side. "You could carry it off." She thrust in into his arms. "Hold onto it, we can try them on when I find something."

Blair clutched the dress, fingering the soft material. It was very pretty. He tried to imagine Jim's face if he appeared in such a gown, and he was thrown back to the night of their first date. He shook his head, remembering his reckless purchase of the ill chosen strapless gown. What had he been thinking?

He smiled, a little shame faced. He'd been thinking pretty much what he was thinking know. What would Jim think?

Megan approached him, a fistful of hangers clutched to her bosom. "You look tired," she said kindly. "Let's try on this lot and have a coffee, okay?"

"Sounds good," Blair agreed gratefully.

This boutique actually had separate changing rooms, to Blair's relief. He might be a woman now, but he was still too close to his manhood to be comfortable in a room full of half-dressed women.

"How does it look, Beej?" Megan called, peering around the door. Seeing Blair was dressed she pushed the door open and surveyed him. "It looks great!" she exclaimed.

"You think so?" Blair turned to the mirror, pushing back a wing of hair and looking at himself critically. The dress wasn't nearly as revealing as his first, but somehow it seemed as if it was. The satin underskirt fit like a second skin, hugging every curve. The filmy overskirt with its burnt out blossom pattern seemed to expose more than it hid, drifting around his legs as he turned before the mirror.

"With the right shoes," Megan mused. "You'll look like a million bucks."

"Shoes," Blair repeated, hoping she didn't mean high heels. No matter how he tried he couldn't get the hang of those things. He found it hard to believe that there weren't a lot more shoe-related accidents amongst the female section of the population.

"Shoes," Megan confirmed. "After coffee."

Blair bought the dress, keying in Jim's PIN number confidently, hoping Megan wouldn't notice whose name was on the card. Then they retired to a nearby cafe for a well-earned break.

"Whew," Megan sighed, discreetly kicking her shoes off underneath the table. "Isn't this fun?"

Blair smiled back at her doubtfully. "I've never been very good at shopping," he confided.

Megan skimmed the quickest of glances over his flannel shirt and jeans. "I've always been a bit of a clothes horse myself," she admitted. "I was a terrible tomboy as a kid, but when I discovered boys, clothes just seemed like the next step."

Blair sipped his coffee. He could see her point. He'd like to dazzle Jim with his clothes, see the subtle appreciation in his eyes that he sometimes saw there when Jim caught sight of a pretty woman walking down the street.

"Maybe our next trip out we could hunt down some casual wear for you?" Megan said carelessly. "If you like."

Blair saw through her instantly. "You've been dying to suggest that, haven't you?" he accused humorously.

Megan looked embarrassed for a moment, but Blair kept smiling at her, and she finally broke and blushed.

"Like I said, Beej," she confessed. "I'm a bit of a clothes horse myself. It'd be a real treat for me to take you shopping, help you pick out some new clothes. I don't mean any offence," she added shyly.

"None taken," Blair assured her. "I could do with some advice."

"Well, terrif," Megan said cheerfully. "Maybe Saturday? Take the whole day, have lunch somewhere nice?"

Blair agreed, feeling his feet ache in advance.

Megan sipped her cappuccino with enjoyment. "It's been really great meeting you, Beej," she confessed. "I miss my mates back home. I was hoping to make some friends while I was here, but," she rolled her eyes expressively. "There's some stuck-up bitches at the station, I can tell you."

"I know, Blair agreed ruefully. He'd run afoul of some catty comments and spiteful looks there himself.

"Don't you pay any attention to them," Megan advised him. "Dead jealous most of 'em."

"Jealous?" Blair repeated, remembering that Jim had said the same thing. He'd assumed his partner was just trying to make him feel better.

"Well, yeah. There you are, living with the elusive Detective Ellison. Blair moved out and you moved right in." Megan made a zooming motion with her hand. "Bound to be some nasty talk."

"Oh, I never thought of that." He felt a prickle of jealousy. "Are some of the women there chasing him?"

"That's one word for it," Megan said, eyes glinting in amusement. "Haven't you noticed? He seems pretty clueless about it, but in my opinion it's just an act. Not one to mix business with pleasure, is our Jim."

"He was married to a cop," Blair informed her.

"Megan leaned forward. "I know! I suppose that's why he's so cautious now, once burned, twice shy, as they say." Megan selected a pastry and tucked in. "You wouldn't have met her, would you?"

"Carolyn?" Blair said absently. He caught himself and shook his head. "Blair mentioned her."

"I wish I'd met her. I'm curious as to what type Jim really goes for." Megan wiped the corner of her mouth delicately and wrinkled her nose. "To tell you the truth, I had a bit of a crush on him myself, once."

Blair felt a flare of jealously completely out of proportion with her casual tone. "Oh," he said, striving for casual.

"Yeah." Megan sighed. "Never gave me a second look though."

"I, uh, I thought you and Blair, um," Blair hesitated, unsure how to put it.

"There was never anything serious there," Megan assured him. Her eyes grew a little wistful. "I thought there might have been once, but..." She shrugged abruptly. "There was never any room for me between those two anyway."

Squashing the guilty feeling that persisted in bugging him, Blair leaned forward. "What do you mean? Between what two?"

Megan flushed a little, and busied herself with the last pieces of her pastry. "Oh, nothing. I'm being indiscreet."

"You mean between Jim and Blair, don't you?" he realised all of a sudden. "No room for you between those two."

"No room for anyone," Megan corrected. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I love those guys, but... When I fall in love, I want to be needed, you know?"

Blair did know, all too well. He nodded.

"And neither Jim or Blair need anyone else while the other one's around," Megan finished.

Blair looked down at his plate, trying to sort out what he was feeling. He couldn't possibly be jealous of Blair, could he? Of himself?

"I've been amazed at how well Jim's handled Blair's absence, actually," Megan continued. "I thought he'd fall apart."

"He, uh, talks to him a lot," Blair said honestly. "Um, on the phone."

"You know, at first I thought you and Jim might get together yourself," Megan chuckled. "But that would be too weird."

"Yeah," Blair agreed. "Why weird?"

"Well, because you look so much like Blair," Megan explained. She lifted a hand to her mouth in dismay. "You're not together, are you? You and Jim?"

"Good grief, no!" Blair exclaimed, hoping he was as good a liar as a woman as he'd always been as a man. So far he'd been doing okay.

"Oh, good," Megan sighed in relief. "I mean, not good that you and Jim aren't together, I mean," she huffed a laugh. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Blair agreed. He decided it was never too early to push his cover story. "You know, Megan, I'm only here for a year. And then it's back to California for me."

"Then it's just as well you and Jim are just friends. I like you, Beej. I wouldn't want you to get your heart broken."

********

"How was the shopping trip?"

"Great." Megan thinks you'll break B.J's heart.

"Buy anything nice?"

"A few things." I think you'll break Blair's heart.

"Do I get a fashion parade?"

"Sure." But what else am I supposed to do?

"Give me a shout when you're unpacked."

"Okay." I think it's already too late.

End of Part Twelve.

Part Thirteen

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