Friends

By Gillian 

Blair pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned down at his page. This stuff was great, he thought exultantly. The paper he had planned on his very own Sentinel had already turned into a thesis, but the way things were going Blair was pretty sure he could get a best seller out of this. It had everything, action and adventure, thrills and spills. And romance. Blair looked up from his page, his eyes getting dreamily. Definitely romance.

Jim had been spectacular last night, Blair recalled, strong and gentle, forceful and yet so caring. He had put some ancient platter on the turntable and taught Blair the finer points of slow dancing, including necking between songs. Feeling a reminiscent melting in his belly, the young grad student allowed himself a few moments recollecting the wondrous lovemaking that had taken place later in Jim's huge bed. A sudden rat-a-tat on his office door had him jumping in surprise.

"Come in," he called, but the door remained closed. Sighing in resignation, Blair climbed to his feet. Doubtless, some students were pulling some lame practical joke on him, but if he didn't see it through now it would be bound to escalate.

"Yes," he said patiently, swinging open the door. The doorway was empty and with another sigh Blair stuck his head out into the hall and was immediately tackled in a headlock.

"Hey!" he said in muffled alarm, using a move Jim had taught him to swing free. His fists were raised defensively when he spun and spotted the young man opposite him, hands raised in surrender, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hey, Badboy," the newcomer drawled admiringly. "Picked up some new moves, huh?"

"Flick? Man, I don't believe it!" Blair's frown melted into a huge smile. "Flickman!" With a leap, he was grabbing up the other guy and they were hugging hugely, arms pounding each other on the back. "I didn't even know you were back, man. God, it's good to see you."

"You, too, buddy." Flick's eyes were shining behind his round glasses; his wild red hair was standing up in stiff dreads positioned haphazardly all over his head.

"When did you get back?" Blair shook his head. "Come in, man, come into my office."

Flick cast a glance at the 'storage room' sign on the door as he followed Blair in. "Office, huh?" he said, cheerfully derisive.

"Hey, with the premium any space is at around here, I feel honored with my little broom closet." Blair dusted off a spare seat and sat down behind his desk. "Nice dreads, man."

Flick scrubbed his hand over his skull. "Mom hates 'em, but, hey, in the jungle, long luxurious locks like yours just aren't practical."

"The jungle." Blair's eyes were wide and shining. "Fifteen months in the Amazon Basin, man, you are so lucky. What was it like?"

"You got another fifteen months spare so I can tell you?" Flick shrugged. "Blairman, it was the most life altering experience I've ever had."

"As opposed to mind altering?" Blair grinned knowingly.

"Hey, not on old man Mackie's project," Flick said derisively. "Jungle plants were strictly for study or squatting behind to take a dump. Although there were these mushrooms when we were in Manaus one time picking up supplies..."

"You are incorrigible, man," Blair grinned.

"I'm still in culture shock." Flick sprawled back in his chair. "'When you live so close to the Indians, it's like, what the hell are we doing here? They live so simply, so easily, and yet they're just so happy, you know?"

"Yeah," Blair nodded his head eagerly, "I know exactly what you mean. Man, I wish I'd been with you."

"Do you?" Flick's gaze sharpened on him. "Then what's all this stuff I hear about you turning down a year in Borneo with Eli Stoddard? Is that true?"

Blair shrugged. "Yeah, it's true."

Flick straightened in his seat. "Man, are you nuts? Pete Weiss told me and I'm, like, no way! Badboy Blair Sandburg would never turn down a chance like that. What the hell happened?"

"It was a bad time. I had stuff going on here, stuff I couldn't leave."

"Stuff." Flick studied his friend closely. "Oh, shit," he said slowly, "I don't believe it. Pete said the only thing he could think of was that you were in love and I said, forget it. Give up the chance of a lifetime, the best career move you could have made, for love? No fucking way. But you did, didn't you?"

Blair smiled bashfully.

"Oh, magod." Flick pushed himself up from the chair and stood up, waving his arms as if he were filled with an energy his body couldn't contain. "I can't stand this, I just can't. You turned down Borneo, with Eli Stoddard for some bit of fluff in a tight skirt! I knew you were crazy, man, but I didn't think you were nuts!"

Blair laughed aloud at the thought of anyone describing Jim as a bit of fluff. "It's not like that."

Flick took a deep breath. "Okay," he enunciated, "I'm calm. I'm still reeling with disbelief you understand, but I am calm." He sat down again and crossed his legs, looking like a psychiatrist settling in for a long session. "Tell me about the bitch who did this to you."

Blair shook his head, now laughing helplessly.

"What?" Flick demanded. "Don't laugh at me, I'm being insulting here!"

"Man, it is so good to see you." Blair wiped his eyes. "I have missed you, Flick."

"I missed you, too," Flick said grudgingly, not yet ready to let go of his righteous indignation. "And maybe if I'd been here, I could have stopped you from making this horrible mistake. At least tell me her name?"

"Jim," Blair said baldly.

Flick opened his mouth and closed it again. "Oh, magod," he said slowly. "I don't believe it. Badboy Blair jumps the fence again? I thought you were finished with all that after Craig."

Blair sobered a little at the mention of the other man's name. "This is different," he said adamantly.

"I hope so," Flick said deliberately. "So, Jim, huh? Tell Flickman everything. Does this guy know what you gave up for him?"

"Leave it, Flick," Blair ordered firmly. "Borneo is over and done. There will be other trips."

"But will you go on them?" Flick asked shrewdly. "Leave Jimbo for a year or more?"

"I'll worry about that if the chance comes up," Blair said practically.

"Okay." Flick smiled tentatively. "Is he good to you, man? Are you happy?"

Blair's smiled blissfully. "Oh, yeah. I really am."

"Do I get to meet this paragon of manhood?"

"Yeah, I'd like you two to meet." Blair looked down at his watch. "How about right now? I'm cooking tonight. We can talk about your trip while I cook and you can join us for dinner."

"You're cooking?" Flick said, impressed. "Now I know it's true love."

"Dickweed." Blair flicked the red dreads on his way to the door. He swung it open and gestured for Flick to proceed him. "After you," he said in a courtly fashion.

"As it should be," Flick sniffed as he strode regally by. With a muffled giggle, he took off down the hall. Slamming his office door closed behind him, Blair gave chase.

000

"You live here?" Flick's wide eyes took in the huge loft apartment with its spartan furnishings and floor to ceiling windows. "What happened to the warehouse?"

"Don't ask." Blair dried his hands and started pulling out pots and pans. "You wanna help?"

"I'll stay out of your way." Flick perched on a stool at the kitchen bench. "Believe me, that'll be a great help."

"Yeah, I remember your cooking skills," Blair recalled with a grin. "Cascade Fire Department still has you on their hit list."

"Jeez, you set fire to one lousy dorm room," Flick moaned theatrically. "So, this is Jim's place, huh?"

"Yeah, how can you tell?'

"I can see the floor," Flick quipped. "Blair, you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, you're living with this guy, you're putting your career on hold for him. This feels like Craig all over again."

"I told you, this is nothing like that mess with Craig." Blair looked directly into Flick's slightly slanted green eyes.

"I'm worried about you, man," Flick said softly. "I don't ever want to see you like you were after that bastard finished with you."

"Jim would never hurt me," Blair assured his friend quietly.

Flick studied his friend's face. "Okay," he conceded. "You're a big boy. Hey, Mom asked after you."

Blair smiled happily at the change of subject. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, I spent a few days with her when I first got back, and then I zipped straight over to see you."

"I'm honored. How is she?"

"Bitchin' about the fact that you write to her more often than her own son. Way to go, Blairman, for making me look bad."

"Anytime."

"I tried to explain to her that the postal service in the Amazon Basin isn't exactly up to the twentieth century yet, but she wasn't buying."

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth," Blair quoted pedantically.

"Yeah, yeah." Flick clambered off the stool and started looking around. "Nice view of the river," he said thoughtfully. "What's this guy do?"

"He's a cop," Blair said, relishing the reaction he knew that would get. Right on cue, Flick spun around.

"Oh, magod." He pressed a hand over his breast pocket. "You are kidding."

"Nope. He's a detective in the Major Crimes unit."

"Blairman, what have you done to me? I'm carrying a few choice joints for two old buddies to enjoy after more than a year apart and you bring me to a cop's apartment. Would this guy take a few tokes with us?"

"Jim?" Blair laughed aloud. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Jim is kind of a straight arrow. Man, he will smell that stuff on you, I guarantee it. You better flush it."

"Are you kidding?" Flick covered his jacket pocket protectively. "No offence, man, but at this point I'd rather flush you. He won't smell it, will he?"

"Absolutely," Blair assured him serenely.

"How about if I go put it in my car?" Flick had followed Blair over here in his battered old jeep.

"Yeah, okay, but you better hurry. He'll be here soon."

Flick flew out of the apartment and Blair laughed quietly under his breath. A few minutes later, the door was pushed open again and Jim was standing warily in the doorway.

"This door was open," he chided.

"Yeah, I got a friend over for dinner; he just popped down to his car for a moment." Blair dried his hands and met Jim halfway between the kitchen and the front door. Jim leaned over and gave him a warm open-mouthed kiss. "Mmm."

"Well," the cop pronounced, licking his lips, "at least I can tell you haven't been smoking it. Tell your friends to keep their illegal substances out of this place and I won't bust them, okay?"

Blair licked his own lips. "And here I thought you were just glad to see me," he grumbled, going back to his dinner preparations.

"I am glad to see you," Jim assured him, going up the stairs to his split-level bedroom. "I just don't appreciate coming home to this place smelling like a frat house."

"Man, you are good." Blair shook his head. "He only had it in his pocket." The door knob rattled and Blair trotted over and opened it.

"Flick, Jim's home," he said, warningly. Jim was coming back down the stairs and Blair held out a hand and proudly introduced them. "Jim Ellison, this is Ambrose Flinders, but even his mother calls him Flick."

Jim held out a hand and Flick shook it, wide eyed. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ellison," the younger man said.

"Likewise, and it's Jim, please." Jim gestured to the fridge. "Beer?"

"Great." Flick returned to his position at the kitchen bench and watched as Jim pulled three bottles of beer from the refrigerator. He widened his eyes theatrically at Blair behind the other man's back, making a gesture with his hands far apart, like a fisherman describing the one that got away. Big, he mouthed at Blair. Blair grinned happily.

"So, you're the guy in the kilt," Jim said, right out of left field as he handed one of the cold bottles over.

"I showed Jim that picture of us at Reggies," Blair explained, laying out three plates on the counter. He began dishing out the stir fry.

"Man, that was a long time ago." Flick rolled his eyes. "My kilt wearing days are far behind me. Although, we did take to wearing these little wrap-around sarong things in the jungle. Very practical."

"Flick just got back from fifteen months in the Amazon." Blair finished dishing up. "Flick, Jim spent a lot of time in Peru when he was in the army."

The three men carried their plates over to the dining room table and started in on the meal.

"Still eating healthy, Blairman." Flick took a huge forkful of noodles and grinned. "Pretty good though. What do you think of Blair's cooking, Jim?"

"At least I can tell what I'm eating now," Jim said bluntly.

"Jim insisted I stop trying traditional South American meals on him," Blair expanded.

"You should have seen this wild man back in the old days." Flick pointed a fork at Blair. "There wasn't anything he wouldn't put in his mouth. Or up his nose for that matter, huh, Badboy?"

"Flick." Blair shook his head at him, and took a mouthful of beer.

"Okay, I'll be a good boy." Flick picked up his beer. "A toast," he proposed. The other two men picked up their bottles. Flick opened his mouth to speak, then shot a glance at Blair's apprehensive face. "To friends," he substituted for whatever he was about say. "Old and new."

"Friends," Blair and Jim repeated.

000

Flick spent the meal regaling them with tales of the Amazon, and then the three of then tidied up. A few hours and quite a few beers later, they were sitting sprawled on the lounge room chairs, soft music playing on Jim's stereo.

"It's the noise here that got to me when I first got back," Flick was saying thoughtfully. "I found myself flinching when a car roared by, jumping at the sound of roadwork's outside the window. And then there were the smells. Man, I have been coughing on car exhaust since I got off the plane. It's like my senses were purified by my time in the jungle, and now they're like, hyper. 'Course, it won't take long to dull them," he finished gloomily.

Exchanging a private smile with Jim, Blair reached over and nudged Flick. "Not if you keep putting away all that beer, man," he chided.

Flick glanced down at the bottle in his hand as if he had forgotten he was holding it. He leaned forward and put it on the coffee table, then rubbed his hands on his face. "Man, it has been way too long since I had a drink. I can't believe I'm this wasted on a few brews."

"'Why don't you crash on Blair's bed?" Jim stood up and gathered some empty bottles in his big hands. "Blair will be upstairs with me."

Blair's eyes were on Jim's back as he walked into the kitchen area with the empties, knowing how hard that must have been for him to say. He looked back to find Flick studying him.

"That'd be great," Flick said slowly. "In fact, I'm ready to hit the sack. It's been a long couple of days." He crossed the floor and held out a hand. "Thanks for the hospitality, man."

Jim took the proffered hand. "No problem." He turned and smiled at Blair. "See you upstairs, Chief."

When he had disappeared up to the second level, Blair wandered over and hugged his friend warmly. "Thanks for behaving, Flick. I know you were tempted to spend the night baiting Jim."

"Blair, buddy, only a fool would bait a guy built like that." Flick rubbed a rueful hand over his head. "He seems nice."

"He is." Blair sketched a wave and flicked off the downstairs lights before heading up stairs. Jim was in the bathroom and Blair stripped down to his shorts, feeling the slight dizzy buzz beer always seemed to give him. He climbed into bed and a few moments later, Jim emerged from the bathroom in his shorts and slipped under the covers. Blair wrapped his arms around the big man, feeling the warm hug returned.

"Do you like him?" he murmured softly.

Jim stroked Blair's hair back from his face in the dimness. "He seems like a nice guy," he returned. Blair studied him a little suspiciously, wondering if he had been spying with his Sentinel senses and overheard Flick saying the same thing about him. But Jim's face was open, interested, and Blair dismissed the thought.

"He is."

"I have a cop's urge to pump him, find out all the secrets of your past," Jim said playfully. "Sounds like you were a bit wild, Badboy."

Blair quirked his mobile mouth. "Anything you want to know, Jim, you can ask me."

"Maybe I will," Jim warned, and then pressed a soft kiss to the tempting lips. "Go to sleep, Chief. I may be bold enough to sleep with you while your friend is here, but there's no way on earth we're gonna be doing any more than sleeping. Got it?"

"That's what you get for living in a house with no doors." Blair snuggled down sleepily, too full of beer to make any protest, even if he had been inclined to. Downstairs, the last song on the record ended, and the arm clicked up and over, switching the machine off.

000

Blair woke up first in the morning for a change, to answer a beer-driven and rather desperate call of nature. Problem taken care of, he wrapped one of Jim's huge robes around him and crept downstairs, trying not to disturb the sleeping cop. Flick was slumped over the counter, a hand pressed to his forehead.

"Man, I expected you to sleep 'til noon at least," Blair said softly, filling the percolator.

"I'm still on jungle time." Flick yawned, blinking bloodshot eyes. "Besides Professor Mackie has called a meeting for this morning."

"So you zipped right here to see me, huh?" Blair smirked.

"Yeah, yeah." Flick grabbed his coat from a hook by the door and slipped it on. "Thank the boyfriend for me. In fact, give him a big sloppy kiss from me."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it," Blair said dryly.

"See you." Flick paused in the open doorway and then as if coming to a decision, he spun in his tracks. "Just be careful, Blair," he said quickly. "Maybe he's not another Craig, but he doesn't seem like the kind of dude I'd mess with. Just look after yourself."

"I will. Thanks, man." Blair shook his head, smiling into his coffee preparations.

Upstairs, on the wide bed, Jim turned over onto the rapidly cooling patch Blair had just vacated, a small frown on his brow.

000

"This was a great idea," Blair called over his shoulder, standing on the lookout perched on the mountain range overlooking the city of Cascade. "You know," he lowered his voice as Jim came and stood behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder, "some people like rainy days, some people worship the sun. Me, I like the wind."

"'Why's that?" Jim watched his lover's profile curiously.

"It's like, on a windy day, the whole world is alive around you. And you can breathe, you know?" He turned and grinned at Jim.

"I know," Jim agreed.

Blair studied the cop's serious face for a few moments, and then, sighing, he grabbed his hand and led him over to one of the empty benches. Picking up some trash and shoving it into an already over loaded trash can, Blair cleared a seat for them.

"Can you believe some people?" he complained. "Just driving off and leaving their trash behind." He settled down, brushing his hand on his shirt front. "Okay, Jim. I know you didn't just drive up here for the view. What did you want to talk about?"

"Astute, kid." Jim leaned back on the bench. "You said last night if I had any questions about your past I could ask them."

"Fire away."

"Now, I know what happened before we met is none of my business, and I'm not looking to judge you here, but if you have any problems, you know, stuff I should know about, well... um... I'd like to know about it."

"Whoa, Jim. Problems?"

"Last night, Flick hinted..." Jim trailed off, then seemed to lose his nerve. "What kind of name is Flick, anyway?"

Blair grinned. "Remember that lighter ad? 'Flick a Bic'? Well, I guess Flick was a bit of a smoker in those days."

"And I'm guessing his brand wasn't Marlboro's," Jim said dryly.

"Not exactly." Blair wrinkled his nose.

"So, I guess this leads to what I've been trying to ask. You, um, did a lot of drugs back then?"

"Depends what you mean by a lot," Blair evaded. Jim gave an impatient sigh and Blair caved. "Yeah, okay. There was a time I overdid it a bit. I was going through a rough patch and the occasional recreational pastime started to become an escape from reality. Flick... was there for me. I owe him big time for that."

"A rough patch," Jim said slowly. "I couldn't help but overhear when Flick said goodbye this morning," he continued in an apologetic tone.

"You heard him mention Craig," Blair concluded with a sigh. "I wondered if you had."

"Was this Craig the rough patch?" Jim asked, and when Blair looked away, he went on, "Look, Junior, you don't have to tell me this if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay. It's just, I acted like such a jerk back then. I, um, was in love with him. Thought I was in love with him."

"Oh," Jim said expressionlessly. "What Flick said, it sounded like this guy was trouble."

"He had a few problems. He was gay, but he had a real homophobic streak. I mean, man, you haven't seen a 'phobe 'til you've seen a queer 'phobe."

"'What happened?"

"He objected to a lot of the stuff I did, people I saw. The fact that I was bi. That was a cop-out in Craig's book, so he said. Personally, I think he was just jealous. Never did figure out if it was me he was jealous of or the fact that I could get it up for women at all." Blair shook himself a little as he realised he was drifting into memories. "Anyway, he could get a little violent at times. One day he hit me."

Jim's head came up and he frowned at Blair in surprise. "He hit you?"

"Yeah, domestic abuse. It doesn't just happen with straight couples, you know."

"And you took that from him?" Jim said incredulously.

"No! I split. Flick's mom still lived in Cascade then. I went and crashed with them. For a while."

"You didn't go back to him, did you?" Jim asked, already knowing the answer.

"I told you I acted like a jerk," Blair defended. "But he came around, apologizing. And he seemed so sorry. I thought he'd change."

"That type doesn't change," Jim said in a hard voice. "How bad did he have to hurt you before you gave up on him?"

Blair went and stood by the guard rail, looking out at the vista of Cascade spread out below him. "It all looks so small from here," he said softly, brushing a long strand of hair out of his eyes. "Kinda puts it all in perspective. That last time he hurt me, I don't even remember it that well. I woke up in the emergency room. I guess I must've phoned Flick from home and he came and got me."

"He hurt you so bad he put you in the hospital?" Jim said tightly. "Just where is this bastard now, anyway?"

Blair turned and looked at Jim's angry face, his clenched hands. "'Why, you gonna go beat him up for me, boyfriend?"

"I'm serious, Blair."

"So am I, Jim. Craig is gone; he dropped out and took off. I haven't seen him since that night. I'm over it, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Jim said angrily. "I can't believe you didn't tell me something this important. I mean, the way our relationship started, me losing control that way. Knowing what I know now, I can't figure out why you didn't run screaming from me. How could you trust me after all that?"

Blair's eyes were wide and astonished. "Jim! I always trusted you, man. Always. I knew you would never deliberately hurt me."

"Then you knew more than I did," Jim muttered. "There are still times when we're together and I have to fight not to lose it. Man, I could traumatize you for life!"

"Oh, come on, Jim," Blair protested. "I'm not some fair little flower here, and I'm not the same kid who let his big butch boyfriend pound on him. I'm all grown up now, man. And I'm in love with you."

Jim looked away, his fists still clenched by his sides. Blair reached out with both hands and lifted one of the large fists, cradling it against his chest.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked softly. Slowly, Jim's hand relaxed and he turned his fingers and tangled them with Blair's.

"Not with you, Junior. Never with you. But the thought of some guy treating you like that... I guess it arouses the pre-civilized man in me." Jim smiled weakly at his reference to the first time they met.

"Caveman, huh?" Blair smiled sexily.

"I guess."

Blair sighed at Jim's sober tone. "Look, man. You told me when all this started, not to let you hurt me. I haven't and I won't. You gotta trust me like I trust you. Okay?"

Jim studied Blair's face, taking in the wide blue eyes and blue-shaded jaw, the long wind-tangled curls and silver glinting earrings. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lover's forehead. "Okay, Chief."

The End.

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