The Jamie Series #17

Unsteady Ground.

by Gillian

Jamie watched wide-eyed as Angela stroked the bottle's teat over Sean's rosebud lips. The baby opened his mouth and eagerly attached himself to it, suckling with relish.

"Wotcha doin'?" Jamie asked curiously.

"Feeding the baby," Angela told him.

"Baby Sean hungry," Jamie agreed. Carefully he reached out and stroked one finger over a tiny flexing hand. Automatically Sean grasped Jamie's small finger, swiveling his eyes around to observe the toddler curiously. "Lookin' at me!" Jamie exclaimed in delight.

Angela smiled benignly as Sean studied Jamie with jade green eyes, never letting up his fervent suckling.

"He likes you, Jamie," Angela told him gently and Jamie nodded confidently.

"Baby Sean likes me. Dad! Daddy!" He called over his shoulder. "Look, Baby Sean holdin' my hand!"

"We see, piglet," Jim called back.

Blair stood up and crossed to the patio where Angela was sitting feeding her son. He crouched by the rocking chair and tousled Jamie's hair. The toddler grinned up at him.

"Jamie needs a brother or sister," Joel lectured when a commercial came on.

Jim stood up. "Another beer?" he offered.

Joel glanced out to where his wife was absorbed in conversation with Blair and Jamie. "Maybe one more," he conceded. "Angie is driving."

Jim grabbed the beers and sat back down. Some animated pig was advertising bacon on the screen and Jim grimaced and aimed the remote control at the TV, lowering the volume.

"I hope you are kidding about that brother or sister thing," he said incredulously. "Blair and I are lucky if we have five minutes to ourselves."

"I know what you mean," Joel conceded. "Angela is talking about getting back into the catering business. At least running her own business means she spends more time with Sean."

"And she'd be running it from home," Jim said. "I envy Blair the time he works at the university. He can drop in on Jamie during the day whenever he has a free moment."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Joel said thoughtfully. "I wasn't that many years younger when Angie and I had the twins, but somehow fatherhood seems different now." The big man laughed self-consciously. "I appreciate everything more as I get older, I guess."

Jim nodded agreement. "The last few weeks away from home have been tough," he admitted. "I have been away from home on many missions, but this was the first time I had a real home and family waiting for me."

"We missed you for Christmas," Joel told him.

"Next year," Blair promised from the patio. Angela was putting the bottle aside and lifting Sean to her shoulder. She patted his back rhythmically.

"Wotcha doin'?" Jamie asked.

"Burping the baby," Angela told him patiently.

"Burpin' the baby," Jamie repeated, clearly at a loss. At that moment Baby Sean let loose a gust of wind and burped richly. Jamie jumped and rushed over to Blair, reaching for his hand. The adults laughed and Jamie looked around nervously, unsure what he had missed.

"It's okay," Blair chuckled, crouching down next to him and holding him against his shoulder in the circle of his arm. "Baby Sean is just burping. The milk in his tummy gives him gas."

"Okay," Jamie accepted.

Blair lifted him and perched him on his hip. He sat down on the arm of Jim's chair and studied the TV. "Who's winning?"

000

Jim glanced at his watch as he climbed out of the car. He was right on time. Making sure the doors were locked, Jim patted the sedan's fender as he walked its length. It was a good car. For the first time in his career he had drawn a winner from the motor pool. Idly speculating on whether to buy the latest model when he finally decided to shop for a new car, Jim walked down the hall to his front door.

He knew something was wrong the moment he saw Blair's face.

"What is it?" he asked quickly, looking around the loft as he closed the door behind him. "Is Jamie okay?" Even as he asked the question he spotted the toddler, sitting on his tiny armchair. He was nursing his baby doll, Amy, in the curve of his arm.

"Dad!" Jamie greeted him. "Feedin' the baby, Dad!"

"So I see, son," Jim greeted. He turned his attention to his lover sitting at the table. Blair's computer was open in front of him, but the screen saver was purring gently away, sending flying toasters from one side of the screen to the other. "What's happened?"

"Rich Cleveland called," Blair said dully, flicking a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"Rich?" Jim repeated. Realization hit him and he sat down with a thump. "Did he... What did he say?"

"Not much," Blair said, meeting his eyes. Jim could see the terror lurking in their depths. He recognized it because he knew it was mirrored in his own. "He's on his way here. He said he will be here by ten."

Jim looked at the clock. Six PM. "He didn't say what he was coming here for?"

"I told you!" Blair snapped. He closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I have been sitting here worrying for an hour." Blair looked over to the living room where Jamie sat crooning to his doll. "Do you think..." he trailed off.

"It's been two years," Jim said, trying to banish his fear.

"But things have only been settling down in San Leon for the last few months," Blair said tightly. "If someone was going to come forward to claim him, now would be the time."

Jim closed his eyes. The unthinkable had been given voice.

"What do we do?" Blair whispered.

Jim opened his eyes, wincing at the lost expression on Blair's face. He attempted to gather himself together, if only for his love's sake.

"We don't panic," Jim said bracingly. "For all we know Rich might be just passing through town. Dropping in for a visit."

Blair raised his eyebrows and then huffed a rueful laugh. "Yeah, right. A visit."

"There's no use scaring ourselves to death," Jim said more gently. "Is there?"

"When I can think of anything else better to do, I will do it," Blair said shakily. Jim stood up and Blair met him half way around the table. "Jim," he whispered. "I feel like every nightmare I have ever had is coming back to haunt me."

"No one is taking our boy away," Jim promised grimly. He laid his cheek on Blair's head and found himself staring at Jamie on his armchair. The little lad was gazing over at them, a small frown creasing his brow. "Now we just have to get through the next few hours until Rich gets here," he continued. "Without scaring Jamie."

Blair straightened and looked over at his son. "I'm scared enough for both us," he agreed. Crossing the room he sat down on the floor next to Jamie and held out an arm. The toddler slipped off his chair and snuggled against him trustingly. "Are you hungry?" Blair smiled down at him.

Jamie nodded, an uncertain look still in his eyes.

"Do you want to help Daddy cook?" Blair coaxed.

The lad nodded again, beginning to look eager.

Jim headed upstairs to lock his gun in the safe he had purchased for just that purpose. They also kept their passports and some emergency cash in the small safe, which was cleverly built into one of their bedside tables.

Sitting on the edge of the bed after he had safely stowed his weapon, Jim paused for a moment and then reached back in, drawing out a small package tied with string. Pulling the brown paper back, Jim revealed a tiny white cotton shirt, stained along one side with ominous rust colored marks. Nestled in the folds was a plain silver cross.

Jim gazed at the contents of the package for long moments, recalling clearly the events of the day he had first beheld them. The day he had first seen the child who would play such a large part in his life. The day they had found their son.

Downstairs Blair was laughing and Jamie followed with his husky giggle. Jim smiled sadly as he acknowledged the undercurrent of tension below Blair's cheerful demeanor. It was going to be a long night.

000

"Which book do you want tonight?" Jim asked, tucking Jamie's quilt up under his chin.

"Bunny rabbit!" Jamie declared.

"Ah, 'Guess How Much I Love You'," Jim said, picking up the hard cover book.

Jamie settled down and Blair appeared in the doorway, watching as Jim read the book to the drowsy toddler. Jamie followed the words and the pictures, knowing the book by heart.

"Big Nut Brown Hare settled Little Nut Brown Hare into his bed of leaves," Jim read softly. "He leaned over and kissed him goodnight. Then he lay down close by and whispered with a smile, I love you right up to the moon - and back."

Jim closed the book. Jamie held his arms out expectantly. "I love you right up to the moon and back," Jim whispered, leaning over and kissing the lad's forehead.

"Love you," Jamie returned, eyes drooping.

Blair leaned over and swept soft brown hair from the boy's forehead. "Daddy loves you, piglet," he whispered.

"Love you, too."

Jim closed the door quietly. "He never gets tired of that book."

"I never get tired of hearing you read it." Blair smiled affectionately. The soft look on his face faded and he glanced up at the clock. It was a few minutes to 8:30. "I am not gonna make it."

"Come, sit with me," Jim said, drawing him towards the fireplace. He turned off the main lights, and settled down comfortably on the rug in front of the crackling flames. Reaching into his pocket, Jim drew out the thin silver chain and cross. Blair stared at it glinting in the firelight, as if mesmerized.

"Remember those days?" Jim asked, holding Blair against him. He swept back one tight curl and laid a kiss on a curled earlobe. "Painful, terrible, wonderful days."

"Finding him was painful," Blair recalled, letting the cross and chain drizzle down onto the palm of his hand. "Falling in love with him was wonderful. Thinking I might have to let him go was terrible."

"I think about it sometimes," Jim admitted. "Trying to remember those days when you and I were complete together. It's hard to remember a time we weren't three."

"Did you ever think you would be so settled, Jim?" Blair asked seriously.

Jim huffed a laugh, stroking the smooth skin of his lover's neck. "Chief," he murmured lovingly. "In my wildest dreams I never imagined a life so complete. You?"

Blair shrugged. "I couldn't imagine something I had never known. A family, a real family, was something for other people. Mom and I had each other, and occasionally we would drop in on one of her brothers. No certainty, no stability. I didn't know I was capable of staying in one place this long, let alone building a life with someone."

"And we have built something, Blair," Jim said firmly. "Something no one can take away from us."

Blair leaned his head against Jim's and gazed into the flames.

000

It was well past 10 PM when Jim finally lifted his head from Blair's shoulder. "He's here," he announced quietly.

Blair climbed to his feet and stood uncertainly.

"Relax," Jim advised. He waited until Rich was rapping gently on the front door before opening it.

Richard Cleveland stood in the doorway, smiling. He opened his arms wide and engulfed Jim in a huge hug. "Good to see you, old friend."

Jim squeezed him tightly and slapped his broad muscled back. "Good to see you."

Rich stepped back and held out a hand to Blair. "How are you, Blair?"

Blair was smiling, looking like he couldn't help it. "Fine, Rich. Good to see you."

Rich shook one of Blair's hands in his huge paw and drew the younger man to him, hugging him tightly. He stepped back and smiled into wide blue eyes. "Don't worry, Blair," he said quietly. "I haven't come bearing tragic news."

Blair's shoulders sagged and he sighed shakily. "Really?"

"I didn't know what to say on the phone earlier," he apologized. "But I realized later I shouldn't have left you hanging like that. I'm sorry, Blair."

"You'd better come in," Jim advised, feeling a weight lifting off his chest with Rich's quiet announcement. He knew his old friend well enough to believe he wouldn't speak lightly of such things.

Rich gazed around the dim loft curiously. "Quite a place you have here," he admired.

"It's home," Jim smiled. "Would you like a drink?"

"Do you have any real coffee?" Rich said. "That stuff they serve on airplanes doesn't count."

Blair put on a pot of coffee and joined the other men at the table.

"You didn't fly all the way to Cascade to try Blair's Turkish Blend," Jim began. "What's up, Rich?"

"Well, as I said before, nothing to worry about," Rich said. He placed his briefcase on the table and unsnapped the locks. "Something did come up, however, something I knew you would want to know about. I didn't think it was a matter to be handled over the phone, and I had some business in the US anyway. Besides, I wanted to check and see how you are treating your namesake, Jim. I feel like I have a vested interest in him."

"Damn straight you do," Blair said firmly. "Without you I don't know what we would have done. I can still remember facing months of separation from Jamie."

"It was a pure pleasure," Rich assured him. "But, do you remember we spoke about a time when someone might step forward to identify Jamie?" The big man looked solemnly from Jim to Blair. "Well, that time has come."

Jim met Blair's gaze across the table.

"You said there was nothing to worry about," Blair blurted out.

"There isn't," Rich said quickly. "A woman has come forward claiming to be Jamie's grandmother. She has no evidence, no proof. Her claims have been considered and then finally dismissed." Rich touched a gentle hand to Blair's fist, clenched on the table top. "Like I said, no threat."

"But you felt it was important enough to fly here and tell us about it?" Jim said, listening to Blair's heart beating rapidly.

"Well, it's like this," Rich said slowly. "I believe her."

Jim felt shock lance through him. "What?"

"I believe her claim, Jim," Rich said apologetically. "It all fits together."

"But you said the claim was dismissed?" Blair asked sharply. "Why should you believe it?"

"Because she has no reason to lie, Blair," Rich explained. "Because I checked out her story and it all fits together. Because I looked into her eyes and saw an honest woman."

Jim stood and circled the table, pulling up a chair and sitting by Blair's side. Not caring that his old friend's eyes were on him, Jim wrapped an arm around Blair's shoulder and hugged him to his side. "Calm down, Chief," he advised softly. "If Rich said there's no threat, then there's no threat, okay?"

"I need to hear all the details," Blair said tightly. "I need to hear what has him convinced."

Jim looked helplessly at Rich, sensing that his lover's tight control was at an end. Long hours of brittle tension had taken their toll, and now this shock was overwhelming Blair's usual calm good sense.

Rich opened the case and took out a folder. He pulled out a photocopied piece of paper and handed it across to Jim and Blair.

"Her name is Maria Fernandez," Rich said briskly. The two men gazed at a blown-up photocopy of an identification card. "She is a 54 year old widow from a small town in Mato Chaco. She's also a teacher at the village's primary school."

"Mato Chaco?" Blair repeated numbly, studying the grainy picture. It was hard to make out many details about Maria Fernandez from the black and white copy. "Where we fled when we left San Leon?"

"Yes," Rich nodded. "Four years ago her youngest daughter, also Maria, ran away from home with a soldier from San Leon. Mrs. Fernandez didn't know who he was or where they went. Two years passed without word, and then the civil war began in San Leon. She hoped for some word from her daughter, but none came. Mrs. Fernandez was left to worry for her daughter's safety."

Blair handed Jim the picture and he studied it as closely as he could. The woman had a broad face and dark skin. Her grey streaked hair was pulled back from her face, and little wisps curled around her ears. She looked kind.

"Three months ago the worst of the hostilities ended, and Mrs. Fernandez and her sons began to search for young Maria. Finally they received news from an old friend in Socoraba, the capitol of San Leon. A few days after the civil war began, he saw Maria with a group of refugees determined to try and make it into Mato Chaco. He says he and his wife tried to dissuade her, but she was determined. Her husband was gone, and she wanted to take her baby son to her mother, she said. Weeks later the man heard that the whole group had been killed by rebel soldiers. He knew no more."

"Was her body recovered?" Blair asked, his face white as bone.

"Not that we could find out," Rich said sympathetically. "I couldn't even confirm the massacre. The first days of a war like that are all chaos."

"Then it could have been anyone," Blair said emotionally. "That kind of story could have been repeated a hundred times in a war like that. There's no way to know whether that woman was Jamie's mother."

"As I said," Rich reminded him. "No evidence, no proof. Mrs. Fernandez is convinced in her own mind that her daughter died in the jungle. For a while she was convinced that her grandson had died too. A grandson she hadn't even known existed."

"How did she find out about Jamie?" Jim asked quietly.

"One of her sons thought to contact the Christian Mission," Rich explained. "They set up a registry for people missing family. The Fernandez family's description of the little they knew about young Maria's last days rang a bell with Sister Fidelma. She contacted me."

"I don't understand why they didn't contact us?" Blair fretted, rubbing at the crease between his eyes. "Surely we had a right to know what was going on?"

"If her claim had any solidity to it, you would have been notified," Rich assured them. "And believe me, I thought long and hard about coming here today. But in the end I figured you had a right to know. Jamie has a right to know. If there is any chance at all that she is his grandmother..." Rich trailed off.

"You said you believe she is," Jim reminded him.

"I go on my gut, Jim, you know that. And it all fits to me. The people and the transport described tally with the report you gave me. As does the direction they would have been traveling in. The dates and the fact that no one else seems to have missed this young woman and her child also fit into the puzzle."

Blair was silent and Jim shot him a worried glance. The young man's heartbeat was racing and his skin was so hot Jim could feel the burning flush through two layers of clothes.

Rich pulled a photograph out of his folder and handed it to Jim. "Mrs. Fernandez gave me that herself," he said. "Does she look familiar?"

Jim steeled himself to look into the picture. A young woman with long blue black hair braided over her shoulder stared impudently into the camera. Her eyes were alive with mischief and happiness, and the camera clearly captured the moment before she burst into laughter.

She had Jamie's eyes.

Beside him Blair choked off a curse.

"Jim?" Rich asked. "Does she look familiar?"

"It was two years ago, Rich," Jim said uncertainly. "I saw her for such a short time-" he broke off suddenly, zooming in on a tiny detail in the photograph. Laying the picture on the table he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny silver chain with a small plain cross dangling on it. He laid it on the photograph and stared long and hard. Finally he looked up at Blair, trying to convey all he was thinking and feeling with his eyes.

The young man was shaking his head. "That cross is like a thousand others," he said desperately. "You said it yourself."

"Blair," Jim began.

"No!" Blair said harshly, pushing back his chair. "I don't want to hear this. I don't care, do you hear me?" He turned to face Rich who still sat at the table, a sympathetic grimace on his face. "I don't care. Jamie is ours now, and they're not getting him back."

With that, Blair stomped across the room to the nursery. He opened the door and slipped into the room without a backward glance.

Jim rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry, Rich," he sighed.

"Don't be," Rich said firmly. "It's been a long time since I had a son, Jim. But I haven't forgotten how it felt to face his loss. Of course Blair is frightened, of course he's going to lash out at the messenger." Rich shook his head. "I deserve part of his anger, I must have frightened him badly when I phoned this afternoon."

"You frightened us both," Jim admitted. "There has always been this fear in our minds that we could lose our boy. It's an old wound, and today its been well and truly opened."

Rich snapped his case shut and stood. "I'll go," he said quietly. "I fly out tomorrow night, Jim. I think we should meet and discuss this before I go. Okay?"

They made arrangements for lunch the next day, and Jim saw Rich to the door.

"Rich?" he said, as he unchained the lock. "Did Mrs. Fernandez tell you his name? Her grandson?"

Rich patted Jim's shoulder gently. "She doesn't know his name, Jim. I wasn't able to find his birth registered, which could mean young Maria married her soldier and the child was registered under his name, or that she never registered him at all, which happens."

Jim nodded soberly. "I don't even know if that's good or bad at this point," he said wearily.

Rich squeezed his shoulder. "Go to your young man," he ordered huskily.

Jim shook his friend's hand firmly and then locked the door behind him.

Blair was sitting in the rocker in the corner. All the stuffed toys who lived on the chair were piled on Jamie's bedside table - bears and pigs and bunnies in a wild tangle the orderly Jamie would not approve of. Old Ten-Cent bear lay atop the tumble, his worn plaid face smiling placidly. Blair sat silently in the darkness, rocking gently back and forth.

Jim clicked on the teddy bear night light which had been a present from his father, and padded across the small room. He sat down by the rocker and studied Blair in the colored light. He sat silently, tuning in on the pounding of Blair's heart in his chest.

"Do you recognize her from that day?" Blair asked in a subdued tone.

"No." Jim shook his head.

"But the cross is the same."

"I think so."

Blair rocked for long minutes. "She has Jamie's eyes."

Jim covered Blair's hand on the arm of his chair. "Jamie has her eyes."

Blair bowed his head. "I don't care," he whispered. "I really don't. I wish Rich had never come here today. I wish he had never told us about this."

"No you don't," Jim corrected.

Blair stood suddenly and stared down at Jim in the dimness. "Yes," he said firmly. His eyes never wavered from Jim's. "Yes, I do." He pulled his hand free from Jim's and stalked out of the room.

"Okay, you do," Jim muttered behind him. He shut off the night light and followed Blair upstairs.

Blair was pulling the comforter back, tugging the top pillows off and tossing them on the floor.

"We always worried that Jamie had no history, no past that we could tell him about," Jim pointed out.

"I know," Blair admitted, pulling his shirt up and over his head and balling it up in his hand. One savage throw and it joined the pillows on the floor. Jim ignored this and concentrated on his lover.

"This woman is no threat to us. We don't even have to acknowledge her," he continued.

"If you say so," Blair said, unbuckling his trousers and letting the khaki pants drop to the floor. His wallet hit the floorboards with a thud but he ignored it, stepping out of the trousers and sweeping the whole lot aside with his foot.

"So in a way this is a good thing," Jim said in desperation. "Jamie has what we have always wanted for him with no threat to us. Right?"

"Whatever," Blair threw out, clad now only in his boxers. He climbed into bed and pulled the quilt to his chin. One hand on the bedside light, he stared at Jim furiously. "I don't care," he pronounced. He clicked the lamp off and lay down.

"Fine," Jim bit out. "Take your bad temper out on me. I don't care either." He stripped quickly, tossing his clothes over a dressing chair and throwing his watch and wallet into a dish on his bedside table. "He's my son too, you know," he reminded Blair angrily. "I'm just as worried about this as you are."

"You don't sound too worried to me," Blair said over his shoulder. "It's all hunky dory to you if Jamie has relatives in another country. So what if they don't want him back now? What happens in a month or a year? Am I supposed to live the rest of my life worrying about them turning up and trying to take Jamie away from us?"

"Rich said they were no threat," Jim hissed.

"And he knows everything?" Blair demanded.

"You're just jealous," Jim accused. "You can't stand to think Jamie has anyone in his life but you. You don't care what it would mean to him to have a real family, a real name."

"He has a family," Blair yelled, turning and pushing Jim's shoulder. He lifted his pillow and bashed it down on Jim's head. "He has a name! I gave it to him!"

Jim wrestled the pillow out of Blair' hands and wrapped his arms around the smaller man, crushing him against him tightly. "Stop it," he hissed. "You'll wake Jamie!"

Blair collapsed underneath him. Jim stared down at him in the darkness, hardly recognizing his sweet lover in the face twisted with rage.

"How dare you say that?" Blair panted. "How dare you say I don't want what's best for him? I'm just scared, that's all."

"Do you think I'm not?"

"What if they find out Americans have adopted him?" Blair said quickly, rushing the words out. "Some foreigners think all American's are rich. What if she finds out two gay men have adopted him? She could make trouble, go to the press. Our own lawyer said the only reason the adoption is going through so smoothly is because no one is making waves. These people might make waves."

"These people might be Jamie's family," Jim said quietly. "We always said if family showed up we would deal with it."

"I am dealing with it," Blair said loudly. "You're the one who seems to be missing the point here."

"Blair," Jim said sadly.

Blair seemed not to hear him. "I don't care if they are family, Jim," he said passionately. "I don't care what your friend Rich says. I don't even care what foolish promises we might have made two years ago. As far as I'm concerned that old lady has nothing to do with us. No proof, no evidence, Rich said. Well, let's keep it that way."

Jim lay on his back in the dark listening to Blair breathe harshly.

"Well?" Blair demanded.

"We could do that," Jim conceded. "And spend the next twenty years worrying that they might show up here, like you said. And figuring out what to say to our boy when he starts to ask about his past."

"Or we could just hand him over now and save ourselves any more trouble," Blair said violently.

"I guess there's no reasoning with you tonight, is there?" Jim sighed. He sat up, clicking the bedside lamp on. Blair sat up behind him.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a panicked voice.

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but Blair forestalled him, grabbing onto him from behind and holding tight. "I'm sorry," he babbled. "Stay here with me. Sleep here with me. I need you tonight."

Jim turned in Blair's arms, pulling the younger man close. Realization choked him. "Sweetheart," he muttered. "Blair, calm down. You've worked yourself up into a panic attack."

Blair was gasping, tears streaming down his cheeks. His breath was coming in short pants and Jim rubbed his back, speaking soothing words into his ear. "I should have seen it coming, I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry." He crooned softly into his love's ear for long minutes, feeling the moment when Blair's panic began to ease and he truly began to relax.

"Sorry, Jim," he slurred, exhausted as always by the draining emotional scene.

Jim lay him down and rubbed his back. "It's okay, love," he murmured. "I wasn't leaving you, I just wanted to fold up your clothes, I couldn't stand them on the floor all night."

Blair huffed with laughter, his broad back heaving beneath Jim's hands. "I'm sorry I yelled at you." Blair buried his head in the pillow. "I made you the target of all my fear."

"Well, I guess I have done it to you often enough," Jim teased gently, relieved to see the symptoms ease. He kicked himself for not realising that Blair was working himself into one of his panic attacks.

"We are together in this," Blair said sleepily.

Jim nobly decided to ignore the clothes on the floor and turned off the bedside lamp before curling up behind Blair. "I'll tell you a secret, Chief," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I don't care either."

Blair turned and slanted sleepy eyes at Jim. "Huh?"

"I wouldn't care if it was his mother and his father and the whole government of Mato Chaco out there making claims," Jim confided. "I would still fight them tooth and claw. I told you before, no one is getting our boy."

"I knew that," Blair admitted.

"But we can't bury our heads in the sand, either."

"No," Blair agreed, slipping into sleep.

Jim lay awake for a long time after Blair's breathing had evened out, mulling over all they knew. Blair was right to worry. Rich had been right to bring this to them, and Jim knew he, himself, was right to want to explore the whole situation further. Mrs. Fernandez was even right, wanting to find out if her daughter's child was alive and well.

It was odd though, with so many people who were right, that the way ahead seemed so frightening and treacherous.

000

When Jim awoke it was to the sounds of Blair moving about in the kitchen below. His senses told him that Jamie still dozed in his nursery, and that Blair had a fresh pot of coffee brewing. He lay for long moments listening to the soothing sounds of home around him, running the events of the night before through his mind. Then he climbed out of bed and jammed his feet into his comfy slippers.

Blair met his eyes self-consciously as he wandered into the kitchen. "Morning," Jim rasped, heading straight for the coffee. Blair beat him to it, pouring out a fragrant mug-full and handing it to him.

"Morning," he said quietly.

Jim snagged him with his free hand and hauled him close. "Okay?"

Blair shrugged. "I have a bit of a headache," he reported. "Other than that, I just feel like a damned fool."

Jim pressed a kiss to his love's temple. "Don't," he ordered.

Blair leaned tiredly against his mate's side. "Oh, Jim," he sighed. "I made an idiot of myself last night. Don't make excuses for me, okay?"

"You were upset. You have a right to be." Jim squeezed Blair for a moment and then released him to sit at the kitchen table.

"Yeah, yeah," Blair accepted. "You're upset too, but I didn't see you beating me over the head with a pillow."

Jim recalled the tense moments and a reluctant smile crossed his lips.

"It's not funny," Blair chided crossly.

Jim allowed himself a small chuckle. "Even fighting mad you still only hit me with a pillow."

Blair smiled reluctantly. "I was just seething," he recalled. "Striking out." He sat opposite Jim at the table. "I don't handle stress well. I wonder why you put up with me sometimes."

"I'm a sucker for big blue eyes," Jim intoned.

Blair stuck out his tongue. "All right, I get it. No self-pity either."

"You handle stress just fine for the most part," Jim assured him. "Everybody has a breaking point."

"Yeah." Blair sighed. "I am seeing things a little more clearly today. But it's still a tangled mess, isn't it?"

"We're meeting Rich for lunch today," Jim reported, finishing his first cup of coffee and giving in to the temptation to pour another one. "I want to hear his advice." A small sound from the nursery alerted him, and he looked over to see Jamie peeking out through the door. "Where could Jamie be?" he said loudly, winking at Blair. "He's a sleepy-head today."

"I'm here!" Jamie shouted, pushing open the door and bounding out.

"There he is!" Blair said in mock surprise. He held his arms out and Jamie raced into them. The young man nuzzled a sleep-creased cheek. "Good morning, piglet."

"Morning," Jamie returned.

"Do you need your potty?"

Jamie looked thoughtful and then nodded.

Jim finished his second cup while Blair completed Jamie's morning ablutions. By the time the toddler trotted back in the room, Jim was making toast.

"Wotcha doin'?" Jamie asked, leaning comfortably against one strong muscled thigh.

Jim suppressed a grin. The question was Jamie's current standard, and he had to admit after hearing it about one hundred times a day it could become a little wearing. Today, though, he felt he would never tire of the innocently curious question.

"I'm making your breakfast," he reported dutifully. "You want some toast?"

"Dippy fingers," Jamie said eagerly. He rushed over to his wooden highchair and attempted to tug it across the wooden floor. Blair arrived in time to help him pull it into place. He lifted the lad up into his chair and tied a bib around his chin. Jamie grinned happily up at his father, pearly white teeth gleaming. Blair wrinkled his nose before pressing it to Jamie's snub one

When he turned to face Jim there was a sheepish expression on his face. "We've faced worse threats," he admitted with a shrug. "We'll get through this."

"We always do," Jim agreed. "Now, who wants eggs and dippy fingers?"

Jamie cheered.

000

Rich stood up politely as they approached his table in the hotel restaurant.

"Sorry we're late," Jim said in a harried tone, depositing Jamie's bag on the floor. He turned and looked for a waiter, but one was already approaching, highchair in his arms.

"Great service here," Blair said gratefully, as the waiter set the chair by the table.

Rich surveyed their weary faces with a smile. "Rough morning, guys?"

"Jamie decided to flush one of his shoes down the toilet," Jim said wearily. "Don't ask."

"Let me take him from you," Rich offered, reaching out and lifting Jamie from Blair's arms.

"Thanks," Blair said with a sigh, sitting down.

Jamie twisted around and peered up at Rich curiously. The big man shook his head. "You forget how fast they grow," he marveled. "Hey, Jamie. Do you remember me?"

With wide eyes, Jamie studied the big, black man and then swiveled his head to look at his father. Blair nodded reassuringly.

"I knew you when you were just a little baby," Rich said. "Did you know that?"

"I'm a big boy," Jamie informed him.

"So I see," Rich agreed. He looked up at Jim. "A big boy with familiar eyes."

Blair spoke first. "We noticed that too. I'm sorry about last night, Rich."

Rich stood up, hefting Jamie in the air until the lad squealed with laughter. "Don't worry about it, Blair," he said easily, depositing Jamie in the high chair, deftly threading little legs underneath the food tray. "I can't think of anything more worthy of stressing over than a fine boy like this one, eh, Jamie?"

Jamie nodded in delight.

"All the same," Blair said doggedly. "I appreciate you coming all the way here to tell us this news."

"In hindsight I think you might have taken it better in a phone call," Rich said shrewdly.

"In the short term, maybe," Blair insisted. "Once I calmed down I held onto your reassurance that we weren't in any danger of losing him." He pierced Rich with a look. "Right?"

Rich nodded wryly. "Right," he agreed. "Mrs. Fernandez is no threat to you. All she wants is to see the boy who might be her grandson, and find out as much as she can about her daughter's death."

"I don't know what we can tell her about that," Jim said honestly. "It was all over by the time we arrived."

"All the same," Rich said. "Right now all she knows is that her daughter drove off into the jungle and was never seen again. Anything you can tell her has to be better than her imagination."

"You like this woman, don't you?" Jim said shrewdly.

"Yes," Rich said simply.

"And you say she wants to see Jamie?" Blair asked. "You don't mean we should take him to Mato Chaco, do you?"

Rich shook his head. "I liked and trusted this woman, Blair. But not enough to ask you to risk your custody of Jamie by taking him back to a place like Mato Chaco."

"What do you suggest?" Jim asked.

Rich leaned forward. "I have a friend who runs a hotel in Mexico City," he said. "I suggest you pay for a ticket for Mrs. Fernandez to come visit you."

Jim exchanged glances with Blair. "Sounds harmless enough."

Blair nodded doubtfully. "I suppose so. But..." he cast a glance at Jamie.

Jim followed his gaze curiously. Realization hit him. "You're worried about her meeting him, aren't you?"

Blair nodded self-consciously. "The woman has lost her daughter. What is it going to do to her to meet her grandson and have to give him up?" He shrugged. "I guess it's just hard for me to imagine anyone meeting Jamie and not loving him."

"Better than not meeting him at all," Rich pointed out. "It will be her choice, Blair. Let her decide for herself, okay?"

Blair nodded.

"So," Jim said. "What does she know about us?"

"She knows Jamie was adopted by the Americans who found him in the jungle," Rich said. "She hasn't asked any more questions beyond that."

"I imagine she soon will," Blair said wryly. "What do we tell her?"

"That's for you to decide," Rich said reasonably.

000

Arrangements were made swiftly. Two days after Rich arrived back in Cayenna he faxed an itinerary to Jim at the precinct. Simon allowed Jim some vacation days, and Blair was free until the university reopened. Before they knew it, the day had arrived.

Everything went smoothly until they got into the air. Jim admitted the pressure bothered his ears, but Jamie let them know his concerns in his own way. The little lad began to wail, hands pressed to his ears.

"Oh, man, we should have thought of this," Blair said, cuddling the boy to his chest.

Jim tried to ignore the dirty looks the passengers were throwing them, and once they were in the air, a stewardess hurried to their aid.

"Does he suffer from ear infections?" she asked gently, stroking Jamie's brown waves back from his forehead.

Blair shot a glance at Jim and nodded. "He has very sensitive ears," he confirmed. "And he had some trouble flying as a baby, but nothing like this." He had to speak loudly to be heard over Jamie's distress.

Another stewardess hurried down the aisle and bent over to murmur in the younger woman's ear. "We have some free seats in business class," she reported. "Let's get this little one up there and see if we can't find something to calm him down."

Blair bore Jamie up the aisle, smiling apologetically to the other passengers. "We can't give him any medication," he murmured over his shoulder to Jim.

Jim took Jamie from Blair's arms and cuddled him close. "We can't let him suffer like this all the way to Mexico either," he said worriedly. The boy's wails had degenerated to painful sobs.

"I want to try something," Blair said. He leaned over and murmured quietly into Jamie's ear. "Jamie? It's okay, Jamie, Daddy's here. Can you hear my voice, son?"

Blair's voice was pitched so low Jim could barely hear it himself. He automatically concentrated on it, recognizing the calm and steady cadence of Blair's guide voice.

"Listen to Daddy's voice, Jamie, just Daddy's voice. Don't listen to anything else but my voice, okay?"

Jamie nodded miserably, sniffing and rubbing his face on Jim's shirt. Blair kept murmuring, keeping his voice low and even, telling the boy to listen only to him and to forget about the loud noise of the airplane.

The stewardess arrived, but Jim waved her back. Obviously recognizing that the men had the situation well in hand, she withdrew.

Tucked into the corner of the nearly empty business class section, Jim, Blair and Jamie cuddled up together on two seats, Blair's quiet voice soothing Jamie until his eyes began to close. Jim held his breath as the boy drifted off into sleep.

Blair's voice trailed off. "Oh, man," he whispered hoarsely.

"Great job, Chief," Jim whispered back.

"How often can I do that, though?" Blair asked.

"He's a fast learner," Jim promised. "Besides, look at it this way, he got us bumped up to business class."

000

The hotel in Mexico was small and quiet. Tucked away on the edge of the city, the little family settled in comfortably. Maria Fernandez was to arrive the next day.

That evening Jim and Blair took Jamie for a walk along the market street, pointing out the colored lights and the gay paper lanterns. Jim watched Blair carefully for signs of stress, but the young man seemed calm and relaxed, enjoying the balmy evening air and talking about the museums he hoped to see before they left town.

Blair must have noticed Jim's close gaze, because he smiled ironically and patted his partner's arm.

"I'm okay, Jim," he assured. "It's too late to worry about anything now."

"It's going to be all right," Jim said. "I'm sure of it."

000

Jim ran the soft bristled brush over Jamie's unruly hair, smoothing the brown strands behind shell-like ears. Blair tugged up white socks and straightened the red striped T-shirt.

"What a handsome boy," Jim admired.

"We're going to meet someone today, Jamie," Blair said, lifting the boy up and setting him on his feet. "A lady."

"Nomi?" Jamie asked.

Blair chuckled. "No, not Naomi."

He took the little boy's hand and led him out of the room. Jim locked the door behind them and they walked to the elevator.

"This is it," Jim said, really feeling his nerves for the first time.

Blair smiled reassuringly.

Right on time a taxi cab pulled up in front of the hotel and Rich climbed out, turning to assist a grey-haired lady out behind him. Through the huge windows in the lobby, Jim and Blair watched them climb the steps, nodding to the doorman as he opened the glass doors.

Nervously the men stood, Jamie between them. The little boy was quiet and well behaved, as if sensing the tension in the air.

Rich raised a hand in greeting, and crossed the room, the lady on his arm. As they approached, Jim could make out her white-knuckled grip on the big man's sleeve.

"Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg. This is Maria Fernandez." Rich made the introductions, but Jim's outthrust hand was ignored by Mrs. Fernandez. Her eyes were locked on the small figure holding their hands.

Blair reached down and scooped the lad up, sitting him comfortably on his hip. "I think this is the young man she has come to meet," he said gently.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mrs. Fernandez said, tearing her eyes away from Jamie for a moment. "I just... I just didn't think this moment would ever come."

Jamie recognized Rich and smiled broadly, holding out his arms in welcome. "Lift me up!" he demanded.

Tears sprang to Mrs. Fernandez's eyes and she choked back a sob. "My little girl," she said in a broken hearted tone. "He has my Maria's eyes."

"Let's sit down," Jim suggested, leading them to a group of comfortable sofas. He sat down, and Blair sat next to him, Jamie on his lap. "I know this must have been a shock for you," Jim continued.

Mrs. Fernandez sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her handkerchief. "I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I thought I was prepared."

"How could anyone be prepared for this?" Blair said reasonably.

"I have so many questions," the lady said, clutching the hanky in her fist. "And I want to tell you how grateful I am that you have bought my Maria's boy to see me. But right now... Would it be all right for me to hold him?"

Blair smiled reassuringly and tilted Jamie's face to his. "Hey, piglet," he said cheerfully. "Would you like to go and say hello to the nice lady?"

Jamie nodded amiably and Blair set him on his feet. With all eyes on him the little boy crossed the thick carpet, stopping in front of the lady.

Her brown skin was pale with tension and her wide brown eyes were anxious. Jamie raised his hands. "Up," he demanded.

Mrs. Fernandez released a shaky gasp and leaned over, lifting Jamie up and sitting him on her lap. "Hello, little one," she whispered.

"Hello," Jamie said. He pointed to a small silver cross she wore on a chain around her neck. "Pretty necklace," he told her. "Jamie has a necklace, too."

"Do you?" she asked, entranced. "What else do you have?"

Jamie nodded his head firmly. "Rosie, my puppy dog," he informed her. "And Baby Sean."

"What a lucky Jamie," she whispered. She tore her eyes away from his shining face and looked at Rich. "He's my Maria's boy," she said with certainty.

Blair drew his breath in sharply and Jim felt his own heart lurch in his chest. Young Maria Fernandez's picture had halfway convinced him. The cross had been the icing on the cake. But even so, for some reason it was still a shock to hear the calm certainty in Mrs. Fernandez's voice. With a start, he realized her own eyes were a familiar shape and color.

There was silence from the adults in the small circle. Jamie fiddled with the small cross, burbling away in his comfortable toddler language.

"Maria," Rich finally said. Jim jumped a little in surprise as the quiet voice broke the silence.

Mrs. Fernandez looked up.

"You must be hungry and tired after your journey," the big man said quietly. "Why don't we get you checked in and arrange another meeting for later today. You can ask those questions you mentioned."

Maria held Jamie close to her for a moment and then nodded. "Of course," she agreed, then spoke directly to Jamie. "Go back to..." she faltered for a moment. "To Daddy," she finished gamely.

"Okay," Jamie agreed, not objecting as Blair stood and retrieved him. "Bye bye," he said, waving cheerily.

"I'll see you soon," Maria promised. Rich pointed out the front desk where their luggage was waiting and she walked over to it, casting one glance over her shoulder.

Blair put Jamie back down on the polished floor. The toddler trotted over to a huge pot plant and grabbed the rim, standing on tiptoe to peer inside. "It's not going to take her long to start asking why Jamie has two daddies," Blair said worriedly.

"She might have figured it out already," Rich added. "She's no fool."

"She also has no legal rights and she knows it," Jim pointed out. "It's in her best interests not to make waves. She sees Jamie by our good will."

Rich raised an eyebrow. "Glad you appreciate the weapon you hold in your hands," he said ironically, before strolling after Maria.

"What does he expect of us?" Blair said hotly to Jim. "We have to protect ourselves and Jamie, don't we?"

"Don't let it worry you, Chief," Jim counseled. "Rich is a fair man by nature. It can't be easy for him, walking the line between us and her."

"I suppose," Blair conceded grudgingly.

"He's right about one thing, though. It would be a mistake to approach her with any hostility. We do hold all the cards."

Jamie rushed back over to his fathers, obviously tiring of the long interval with no ones attention focused on him. "Let's go," he demanded.

"Good idea," Jim said. "Let's find that museum Daddy was talking about. Okay?"

000

Rich arranged the next meeting to be held in his suite. Neutral ground, as he called it. Jamie was tired after his long day, and was quite happy to sit on Jim's lap and lean against his broad chest.

"I'm sorry, I didn't give Richard a chance to introduce us before," Maria said. Her eyes rested gently on Jamie for a long moment. "Please call me Maria."

"I'm Jim," Jim introduced himself again.

"And I'm Blair." This time Maria shook both their hands. Her hands were callused from a lifetime of hard work, but the skin of her face was surprisingly smooth. Her grey hair was pulled back neatly from her face.

Rich had ordered coffee, and he handed out cups of the strong, fragrant brew.

"I knew that first meeting would be an emotional one," Rich said shrewdly, sitting down with his own cup. "I thought it best to get it over and done with."

"I don't know what we would have done without Richard," Maria said firmly. "I had run out of hope when God sent him to me." She patted Richard's hand gratefully.

"We feel the same way," Blair said honestly. "He helped us enormously with Jamie's adoption. Without him it might have taken months."

"I wanted to thank you for all you've done for my Maria's boy," the lady said sadly. "You saved his life." Her breath caught for a moment but she quickly gained control. She shot another look at Jamie sitting contentedly on Jim's lap. "Can you... Can you tell me what happened that day?"

Jim lifted one hand and gently rested Jamie's head against his chest. Automatically the lad's eyes began to drift shut. "Maybe I could lay him down in the next room?" he murmured. "I think he might be ready to doze off, and he probably shouldn't hear this."

Minutes later, he had Jamie settled on the smooth coverlet in the suite's bedroom. Jim sat back down and took a deep breath. "We heard the gunfire from quite a distance that morning," he began slowly. "By the time we reached the area it had been over for hours." Maria remained silent, watching him with wide, dark, familiar eyes.

"We found them apart from the others," Jim said quietly, memories of that day strong in his mind. "At first we only saw her, dead on the ground." He shot a quick look at Blair, finding his lover's eyes alive with the past. "Then we heard Jamie."

"She died shielding him from the gunfire." Blair took up the story. "She saved his life."

"She wasn't... They didn't..." Maria broke off, hand clutching the cross at her throat.

Jim shook his head. "She did not suffer," he said with certainty. "They shot her from behind and left her where she fell. They probably never even saw Jamie."

Maria digested this for long moments, her eyes blank. "She was trying to get back to me in the end," she murmured. "Trying to bring her boy to me."

Jim tilted his head as he heard Jamie snuffle a tiny snore in the next room. He was glad the boy wasn't here to hear this. "I couldn't find anyone to tell me what my girl named him, did Rich tell you?" Maria looked searchingly at them.

Blair nodded. "I named him after Jim," he recalled. "Because Jim saved both our lives."

"Jamie," Maria tried out. "James. It's a good name. I know God led you to Maria that day. How else could it all have happened like this? To find him like that, to save him and take him as your own. And then for us to find him, after all this time. It is a miracle."

"There were many people on the roads those days," Jim said carefully. "And there were other massacres. Before I found Blair, his companion was shot and killed right beside him."

Maria reached over and patted Blair's hand comfortingly. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

Jim continued gamely. "My point is, there were many tragedies, all over San Leon. I know you want to believe Jamie is your grandson, but you have to remember, there is no proof."

Rich opened his mouth but Maria forestalled him, holding up one hand. "This is what the Mission said to me. I had no proof. I don't know exactly what they wanted from me. What proof did I have to offer besides my faith? Perhaps there was a tiny doubt in my mind before. But not now." Maria nodded toward the room where Jamie slept the sleep of the innocent. "Not with my daughter's eyes looking at me from that sweet face."

Blair reached into his pocket and pulled out the simple cross. He looked at it in the palm of his hand for long moments. His hand convulsed around it, and his knuckles turned white. Then he slowly uncurled his fingers and presented his hand, palm up, like an offering. "There's also this," he said hoarsely.

"My God," Maria breathed. Tears sprang to her eyes and flowed down her smooth, brown cheeks. "Oh, Maria," she sobbed. Blair pressed the cross into her shaking hand and she clutched at it, holding it against her heart.

Jim looked helplessly from the sobbing woman to Rich. The big man wrapped an arm around her heaving shoulders. "Perhaps you should leave her for a while," he said softly, and Jim stood up gratefully. Quietly he retrieved his snoring son and followed Blair out of the suite.

Out in the hall Blair leaned against the wall, face pale. "This is really hard," he said shakily.

"Harder for her than for us," Jim said sadly, pushing the button for the elevator. "We have Jamie."

000

They met for breakfast the next day and Maria sat by Jamie's highchair, watching him carefully dipping his toast into his egg. Blair had sliced his toast into neat fingers, and ordered his boiled egg soft. The toddler meticulously dipped a piece of toast into the egg, took a bite, then carefully laid the remainder on his plate and took a sip of his milk. Then he sat his milk cup back down and again resumed dipping. Maria watched him in fascination.

"Tell me about his life in America?" she asked eagerly. "I have a TV at home now, that my son bought for me. I watch the stories of all the people with big houses and cars. Do you live like that?"

The question seemed innocent enough, but Jim couldn't help shooting a quick glance at Blair before answering.

"We live in a loft, not a house," he explained. "A kind of converted warehouse," he continued at her blank look. "And right now we only have one car. My truck met with an accident a few months ago."

"Richard said you are a policeman?"

"I'm a detective," Jim confirmed. "Blair is a professor."

Maria nodded. "Richard told me. So, who looks after Jamie while you work?"

"Jamie attends day care at the university where I work," Blair said. "I can see him anytime I like."

Maria nodded. She picked up her spoon and stirred her coffee slowly. "Richard told me that two men adopted my Maria's boy, and I couldn't understand what he meant. Now I see you together and I know. You are..." She paused delicately. "I don't know the word in English. You are like a man and a woman together, aren't you?"

Despite himself, Jim felt a flush stain his cheeks. Blair's heart was beating rapidly, and curiously, so was Rich's. Maria seemed calm.

"We are a family, Maria," Blair said steadily. "We were a family before Jamie came into our lives."

"But you were a family who would never have children of your own," Maria persisted.

Jim felt his spine stiffening, and he shot a look at Rich. The big man was keeping well out of it, studying the toast on his plate as if it fascinated him. Jim opened his mouth to tell the woman it was none of her damn business, but Blair was speaking quietly before he could draw breath.

"We had never discussed it before," the young man said evenly. "But I have no doubt we would have. We both wanted children."

Maria nodded. "You see why I ask you this?" she said, spreading her hands wide. "I have to go home tomorrow, back to my village and my family. In my heart I have to know that Maria's boy is safe and well."

"You only have to look at him to see that," Jim bit out.

All eyes turned for a moment to Jamie. The lad had grown bored with his meal and was now counting the stars on his shiny high chair tray. "One, two, three, four, three, two, eight," he chanted under his breath. Shiny brown waves flopped over his forehead, and his clear brown skin shone with health. A blue T-shirt set with matching shorts could be seen under his voluminous bib, and little legs with white socks and blue track shoes stuck out from under the tray. He was the picture of happy, affluent childhood.

"My Maria couldn't have given him the things you do," the lady said sadly. "She couldn't have bought him fine clothes and sent him to American schools. But she would have raised him with God, taught him right from wrong, helped him become a fine man, a man to be proud of."

"We will do those things," Blair said, with unshakable belief.

Maria met his eyes squarely. "I don't know if I can believe that," she said softly. "My church teaches me that what you are is wrong. What will it do to a little boy to be raised by men like you?"

"I've had enough of this," Jim said loudly, standing up. His chair screeched on the wooden floor and people at the tables around them looked up. "This is over," he said firmly to Rich. "We gave her a chance, we showed her Jamie and told her what she wanted to know. But I don't have to sit here and listen to her narrow minded bigotry."

Rich made a placating gesture. "At least hear her out, Jim. She has concerns, concerns you can answer."

"No," Jim said, lifting a wide eyed Jamie out of the high chair. "She has prejudices, Rich, and I don't have the time or the inclination to hear them. She thinks we are rich Americans with a big house and cars. She thinks we might be frightened enough by her supposed concerns to dip into our big bank balances and throw some cash her way. Well, she's wrong."

"That's not fair," Rich protested.

Blair stood up, tossing his balled up napkin onto his plate.

"I don't want your money!" Maria said loudly, springing to her feet. "Rich Americans waving their dollars around! You think I would sell my grandson? To men like you?"

People stared, turning in their seats to watch the spectacle.

Jim's voice dropped ten degrees. "This is over, lady. Take one last look at this kid, because you will never see him again." With that he turned on his heel and walked away. The restaurant patrons stared curiously at him as he passed, but he held his head high. Blair followed him through the tables, and out the door, increasing his stride in the lobby until they walked side by side. Jim was never more grateful for his partner's steadfast loyalty.

Their cool, dim room felt like a haven.

"That went well," Blair said wryly, collapsing onto the sofa.

"Can you believe how Rich defended her?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Last night you said he was walking the line, but today it looked like he was very firmly on her side," Blair agreed.

"Those questions about what we did, what we owned. I told you, didn't I? She looks at us and sees dollar signs."

"I believe I was the one who told you," Blair pointed out. "And you told me to trust Rich."

"Well, just shows what I know," Jim retorted, pacing the room.

"Wotcha doin', Daddy?" Jamie asked from his arms.

"Daddy is angry," Jim explained. Jamie turned his mouth down. "Not at you, piglet," his father assured him, kissing his smooth forehead. "At myself." Jim turned his attention back to Blair. "This was the biggest waste of time and money! For all we know this whole story could have been something she concocted to get a free ticket to Mexico. To look us over with a view of milking us dry."

Blair shook his head. "Don't get carried away," he counseled. "Rich wouldn't have been a part of anything underhanded. He's our friend, remember?"

"But he's her friend, too," Jim pointed out. "And if this gets ugly, whose side do you think he will be on?"

"I think I should call the airport," Blair said in sudden decision. "See if I can get an earlier flight out. I will feel better once we have U.S. soil under our feet." He picked up the phone.

Jim paused and tilted his head. "Rich is coming," he said quietly.

Blair dropped the phone back into its cradle and opened the door, just as the big man's hand was lifted to knock.

"Oh," he said in surprise. "Are you going out?"

"Not yet," Jim said coldly.

"Ah, Jim, don't be like that," Rich said, sidestepping Blair and entering the room. "That was an ugly scene downstairs, but don't act like I'm to blame for it."

"We were just wondering whose side you were on?" Jim said grimly.

"I'm on Jamie's side," Rich said, his voice growing hard. "You remember Jamie? The little kid you just carried away from his grandmother. The little kid you just cut off from his only blood family in the whole world, because you got your feelings hurt."

"I guess that answers my question," Jim said coldly, opening the door.

"Wait," Blair said. "I want to hear what he has to say." He turned to Rich. "Do you think we should have just sat there and let her insult us like that?"

"I think you are big boys, who have been called a lot worse," Rich returned quickly. "How did you think she was going to react, finding out her grandson is being raised by homosexuals? Jump for joy? Do handsprings?"

"What do you think we should have done?" Jim asked sharply. "Prejudices like that don't go away overnight. I know that kind of person, Rich. Nothing we say will convince her that we are right and her church is wrong."

"Listen to yourself, Jim!" Rich said incredulously. "Listen to what you have said here today! 'That' kind of person? Is that so different from her describing you and Blair as 'men like you'? And that stuff about her looking for a handout. Where the hell did that come from? Because she's South American, because she lives in a tiny village, she's automatically looking to score money from the rich gringos? How dare you?"

"How dare you?" Jim fired back, his blood racing. Jamie was clutching at him, his little heart pounding. "Did you hear what she said? Do you know how many times we have had to listen to crap like that? Why on earth do you think we'd want to expose our child to that kind of warped morality?"

"She's Jamie's family, Jim. Have you thought of him in all this?"

"He's the only one we've thought of," Blair interjected hotly. "Do you think we would put ourselves through this for anything less? Well, we've met her now. Like Jim said, we've answered her questions. Jamie has a past, it will be up to him when he's older to decide what he wants to do with that knowledge."

Rich shook his head. "And that's it?" he asked incredulously. "You gave her a look and now you whisk him away? With the promise that, maybe twenty years down the track, Jamie might decide to explore his curious South American roots?"

"What do you expect from us?" Blair appealed. "We have dragged our son thousands of miles to see her, and now she lays that unfit parent crap on us? What more are we supposed to do?"

"Give Maria a chance to be Jamie's grandmother," Rich said simply. "Because she is, you know. You don't have to agree with her and she doesn't have to approve of you. You share a very special bond." Rich pointed at the pensive little boy in Jim's arms. "Jamie. For his sake you have to give her a chance."

Blair sat down on the edge of the bed. Jim shook his head, unwilling to let go of his anger. "What's the point?" he asked. "We live thousands of miles apart. What's the point of letting them form an attachment?"

"And that's what this is all about, isn't it?" Rich said shrewdly. "You were willing to go along with this so far, to find the truth, to gather the facts. But when it comes to making a commitment with the Fernandez family, to actually facing the possibility of sharing your boy, even long distance, it all becomes too much, doesn't it?"

Jim gazed down at Jamie's wavy brown hair, appalled to find there was a kernel of truth in Rich's words. He looked at Blair, finding his equally appalled gaze directed back at him. With a tremor of shock, Jim recalled the night that Blair had lost his temper, blowing up at him in fear. Jim remembered his own calming words, his conciliatory promises. To his horror he realized it was all as Rich had said. This trip, this whole thing had been about their peace of mind, their convenience. Yes, they had wanted to find out the truth about Jamie, but how much of that had been for his own sake?

Jim recalled Blair's reaction when he told him that Jamie had no name but the one Blair himself had given him, and recognized it now for satisfaction. A satisfaction Jim also shared. Jamie was all theirs. They had never even considered changing that. Slowly he sank down on the bed beside his partner.

Blair reached out his arms and Jamie crawled off Jim's lap, clambering over to his father, agile as a monkey.

"We do want what's best for Jamie," Blair said, breaking the silence.

"I know that," Rich said gently. "You just have to consider what's best for him may not be what's best for you."

"Staying with us is best for him," Jim said, feeling he had to make that clear.

"Maria might not agree with that right now," Rich said quietly.

"I'm not sure I care what she thinks," Jim retorted.

"As family goes, I'm not even sure I want our boy exposed to Maria and her religion," Blair added.

Jim looked directly at his friend. "What about you, Rich. What do you think?"

The big man sighed. "Does it matter what I think? If I told you right now that I felt Jamie would be better off with his blood kin, would it make any difference to you?"

"Not to our own belief that Jamie belongs with us," Blair said shakily. "But you're our friend, Rich. We've looked upon you like a guardian angel. It matters to us."

Rich nodded his head in understanding. "Then for what it's worth, I believe Jamie belongs with you, too. Maria has raised her family, her sons have their own families. You and Jamie and Jim, you are a family, and families belong together."

Jim felt some of the tightness in his chest recede. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "That means a lot to us."

"What do we do now?" Blair asked.

"Talk to Maria. Try to come to some understanding. You may not be able to change her heart and mind overnight, but with time she may be able to accept you for what you are. Jamie's parents."

Jim came to a sudden decision, climbing to his feet. "Do you know where she is?" he asked Rich. "I think we should start this right now. After all, we don't have much time before we all go home."

"She's in the garden," Rich told him. "It's not going to be easy, Jim, opening up a dialogue. She's a proud woman, and you hurt her feelings with that comment about money."

"I'm a proud man," Jim informed Rich. "I haven't exactly forgiven her for her insults, either. Maybe that will give us common ground to meet on."

Jim, Blair and Jamie headed back downstairs, the youngest of the trio still a little subdued.

"We shouldn't have argued in front of him," Blair said as they crossed the lobby, Jamie trotting between them holding their hands. "I think it's the first time he's been exposed to anger like that."

Maria was sitting on a seat by the wall in the stone garden. Before her was a Japanese gravel garden, swept with long, simple waves. She raised her head as the trio approached them, and for a minute Jim saw a gleam of hope in her eyes. Blair let go of Jamie's hand and he trotted forward. He stood in front of Maria, smiling uncertainly. "Hello," he said shyly.

Jim felt his heart ache with love for his young son. The child was more forgiving than he could be.

Maria reached forward and gathered him up. "Hello, little Jamie," she said, a sob in her voice. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Wotcha doin'?"

Maria looked up at Jim and Blair. "I am sitting here wondering how I can fight two rich Americans," she said sadly.

Jim shook his head. "You can't. And is that really what you should be thinking? With your grandson on your lap?"

"It's for my grandson that I worry." Maria shook her head. "Can't you see that?"

Blair sat down next to her on the bench. "We only see your prejudice," he said quietly. "Can't you see how wrong it is to judge us over something you don't understand?"

"He's only a little boy now," Maria returned. "What happens when he's older? What will you tell him about two men living together? If he thinks it's normal for you, then he may think it's normal for him. Is that what you want?"

"We want him to be happy," Jim said. "And we'll do our best to give him the best possible start in life. The rest is up to him."

"It's up to me, too," Maria said firmly. "My girl wouldn't have wanted her boy raised by men like you. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's the truth. It's my duty to do everything I can to take him from you."

Blair reached over and gathered Jamie up. Maria's hands resisted for one moment, and then reluctantly yielded.

"We're sorry you feel that way," he said sadly. "We want Jamie to get to know you, to keep in contact, and write letters and send pictures. Maybe meet his uncles and his cousins some day." He exchanged a glance with Jim. "Maybe we didn't always want it, but we do now. For his sake."

"It's for his sake that I do this," Maria said, her face pale. "I spoke with people before I came here, people who were concerned at two Americans whisking one of our children out of the country so easily. These people told me there were things I could do about this, tests I can get to prove Jamie belongs to my family. Maybe if Jamie had been settled with a couple who..." She broke off for a moment, and then steadfastly continued. "With a man and a woman, a couple who could give him a normal life, maybe I wouldn't have telephoned these people again."

"Before you came here?" Blair said in disbelief. "Is this a part of that religion you spoke of? Judging us before you even met us? Planning to snatch Jamie from the only home he knows, before you even knew for sure that he was your kin?"

"What are you going to do?" Jim asked, dread tightening his throat.

"What my Maria would have wanted," she answered firmly.

"Jamie lost everything once," Blair reminded her, his own face pale. "We are everything to him now. Would you take that away from him again?"

"He's young," Maria began, but she was interrupted as Jamie began to cry, long piercing wails unlike anything Jim had ever heard from him.

"What is it?" Blair cried anxiously, but Jim was unable to answer. He could feel it too, now, what the young sentinel had sensed. A fine vibration of sound, an all encompassing feeling of dread, a strong, terrible presentiment of danger. Only once before had he felt anything like it.

"Get away from here," he yelled, pulling Maria up by her arm and pushing her forward. "Away from the building!" One hand in Blair's back, the other pulling the frightened woman, he hurried from the stone garden, reaching the long green stretch of lawn just as it hit. The earth began to buckle under their feet, tossing them up and bowing beneath them as they landed. Suddenly the world was alive with screams and the sound of broken glass. Shrill screeches of buckling wood and the harsh grinding of broken stone.

Jim crawled to the ground where Blair lay with Jamie, ignoring the disorientating sensation of the world breaking the laws of nature around him. With the certainty that up was down, and down up, Jim reached his family and flung his arm over them. They rode it out together for long minutes.

Jamie was still screaming, his high wails deafening, and yet at the same time reassuring. Blair had both arms around the boy, and Jim had both arms around them. Debris scattered around them, and Jim absorbed the impact of what felt like small rocks on his shoulders with a grunt.

Finally, just as Jim was convinced that it was never going to end, that the heaving ground beneath them was truly going to open them up and swallow them, it was over. The dizzying sensations faded, and Jim opened his dazed eyes.

To a scene out of a nightmare.

"Oh, my God," he whispered. Beside him Blair sat up, Jamie held against him.

"Oh, God," he repeated, following Jim's gaze. The hotel was gone. In its place stood a pile of rubble. Most of it was covering the stone garden they had just been sitting in.

Next to them, Maria sobbed. Jim glanced at her, ascertaining at once that she was safe and unhurt.

"Earthquake," Blair muttered, cuddling his crying son close. "A big one."

Jim rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the dirt and dust on his skin. "We're okay," he said to himself. "But there will be aftershocks. We're going to have to find a safe place." Suddenly he stopped and turned towards the rubble. "My God," he breathed. "I hear... Blair, I hear people. People are alive in there!"

Jim jumped up, taking a step towards the rubble.

"Jim!" Blair grabbed his arm. "Jim, we can't help! We have to make sure Jamie is okay!"

"He'll be okay with me," Maria said quietly. Both the men turned to her. "I'll stay right here with him while you help."

Jim was automatically shaking his head, but he could still hear the cries of the people trapped in the wreckage. They seemed to be calling just to him.

Out on the street there were sirens wailing. Mexico City was long used to earthquakes, her people well versed in what to do.

"Blair, go with them," Jim ordered.

"You need me," Blair said. "There are people in there, Jim. Rich is in there."

"But the aftershocks..."

"I'm sure Jamie will warn me of them," Maria said grimly, wiping her dirty face. "As he warned us of that first one. We won't leave your sight, Jim. But I will keep him safe."

Blair was shaking his head in automatic negation, and Maria put an urgent hand on his arm.

"Please," she appealed. "You can trust me with him. If you can help those people, you must."

Emergency workers in their bright orange suits were arriving and exclaiming over the damage. Jim saw them gesturing at the building, and already he knew he had no choice but to go. He could pinpoint each and every spark of life left in the dead building, something that might take them hours to do.

"Stay here," he said to Maria. "I'll know when an after shock is coming, and I will get back to you."

Blair handed the weeping boy into Maria's arms. "Take care of him," he whispered.

Maria nodded, tucking Jamie's dusty head under her chin. "I swear," she said.

Without allowing himself a backward glance, Jim was off and running. He headed straight to a pile of rubble taller than he was and scanned it.

"Look for weak spots," Blair counseled. "It's no good digging people out and getting buried ourselves."

"Get away from there!" an emergency worker yelled in Spanish.

"There's someone under here!" Jim called back. "I can hear her! She's trapped under a concrete beam, here." Jim made a slashing motion with his arm.

Two workers ran up and bent over the stone. "I can't hear anything," one said impatiently. "I know you want to help but we have to wait for sniffer dogs."

"He's better than a sniffer dog," Blair said in his textbook Spanish. "He can hear and smell and see better than any animal that ever lived, and any machine man ever invented. He's telling you there's a woman under here, and I'm telling you to believe him."

The men stared at Blair's dirty face in surprise.

"The beam is stable enough," Jim said impatiently, still intent on the voices around him. Was it his imagination that some of them seemed to be growing fainter? "But you need to get her out of there, now. I can smell blood, she's bleeding bad. Get some people over here!"

Without waiting for an answer Jim was clambering over the tangle of steel and stone. The hotel had been a small one, five stories high. But that meant five stories of concrete and metal and glass, some of it shattered into tiny pieces, some of it larger than a car.

Jim stopped suddenly and began tearing at some wood. Trusting him perfectly, Blair helped him heave a large piece off and throw it aside. More men were gathered where Jim had left the first two, and they began shouting, galvanized by his actions.

"Get down from there, you fool!" someone yelled. "You are going to kill someone."

Jim pulled a final sheet of fibro aside just as two men reached him. They stopped in frozen surprise as Jim revealed the curled up form of an old woman, laying half under some more wood. "She's okay," Jim pronounced. Then he bounded off.

"I told you," Blair said behind him. "Now, do you want his help to find as many of these people alive as you possibly can?"

Jim heard one man clamber down and kneel by the old woman, who was moaning now in a high thin voice. "How did he know?" the other one asked in wonder.

Jim tuned them out and swept the area again. There was still so much to do.

000

They worked tirelessly for hours, riding out the aftershocks. In the first quarter of an hour, every man on the site stopped to stare as Jim and Blair leapt off a shelf of concrete, yelling a warning about an aftershock. Moments later, just as Jim reached Jamie and Maria, the aftershock hit, lasting a full minute and shaking the world all over again. Then it was over and Jim was standing up, stroking his son's hair and touching Blair's hand, before turning back to the buildings remains.

This time when Jim approached the pile of rubble willing hands helped him up. A team of men with shovels followed behind him, stopping when he told them and digging the way he ordered.

When he yelled another warning the men listened, taking what cover they could as they rode out the second, lesser aftershock. Too far away to reach Jamie and Maria, Jim rode it out with Blair in the rubble, and then clambered to a high point, not drawing breath until his senses confirmed that they were all right.

Jim felt Blair behind him and he turned, nodding once. The younger man sighed his relief and held up a hand to help his partner down. Jim stepped carefully on the slab of stone, avoiding the rust red spikes of metal that twisted and jutted crazily from its surface.

"Where now?" Blair asked, squinting against the harsh sunlight and the dust that still hung in the air.

Jim concentrated, easily hearing the signs of a desperate struggle for life around them. "This way," he called. Blair was on his heels, followed by dozens of people, not just emergency workers now, but ordinary people, some bruised, some bleeding themselves. Some carried shovels, some had only their bare hands to offer, but they offered them willingly.

Hearing a heartbeat nearby, Jim began to lift a wooden beam, straining for a moment. The weight lessened and he shifted his head, seeing Blair at the other end of the wood, lending his not inconsiderable strength to the task. For an instant Jim smiled into his love's blue eyes, and then, together, they lifted the beam and laid it aside.

It was two hours in and just after noon, when Jim picked up Rich's familiar scent. The man was buried deep, but using his sight piggy-backed to his hearing, Jim was able to direct the diggers to a clear path through the treacherous rubble. It took another hour, but finally they were hauling him out, strapped to a stretcher. He was a mess, covered in blood and bruises, but his eyes were alive and aware as they squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun.

Blair touched his hand as they carried him past, and Rich's eyes lit up in recognition. He seemed unable to speak, but he sketched a small wave with one bloody finger.

As it happened, he was the last person to be pulled out alive.

It was late in the afternoon when Jim, Blair, Maria and Jamie sat wearily on the back of a fire truck, sipping cold water one of the emergency workers had fetched them. Although Jim had told them no one was left alive in the building, sniffer dogs were at work combing the wreckage. The men who had worked with him all afternoon probably didn't doubt his word, but they had higher powers to answer to, and as long as there was a chance of finding someone else alive, they would search.

Jim admired their dedication.

A man in an orange suit and a hardhat stood in front of him.

"I'm Esteban Morales," he said, holding out a grubby hand. Jim shook it wearily. With a dull start of surprise he noticed that his fingernails were torn and bleeding. Morales noticed it too.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said. "All of you. And then we'll find you somewhere to stay. I have many questions to ask you."

"I don't doubt it," Jim said tiredly. "But right now all I care about is my family." He waved an arm, taking in the tired people around him. Morales studied the group, his eyes lingering on Jamie who was dozing on Blair's filthy shoulder.

"Of course," he agreed. "Let's get you settled."

000

Jim walked through the tranquil garden, marveling at how untouched this part of the city seemed. Morales was in charge of the emergency services, and he had arranged a suite for them in a hotel away from the devastated area. The man had asked Jim some hard questions about his part in the rescue, but so far Jim had managed to avoid any real answers. He had the feeling Morales was not going to be satisfied with that for long.

Maria was sitting under a tree in the shade, eyes closed. She opened her eyes and smiled at Jim when he approached.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Scared. Grateful to be alive. Happy to be flying home to my family today." She shifted over on the bench and invited Jim to sit. He shook his head, and she sighed. "How is Richard?"

"I phoned the hospital, and the doctors are cautiously optimistic," Jim returned. "We're going to visit him soon, I wondered if you'd like to come with us on your way to the airport."

"I'd like that, thank you." Maria looked around. "Where is Blair? There's something I want to say to you both."

"He's showing Jamie the pond." Jim smiled. "Jamie loves the water, but you have to watch him every second."

Jim led the way through the quiet garden, listening to the buzz of the cicadas. Part of him was still very much on alert for signs of another quake. The aftershocks had continued through the night, the latest ones barely detectable to a normal person. Jim and Jamie had felt the approach of each and every one, and in the end Blair had carried Jamie to their bed and held him between them all night.

Blair was standing by the pond with Jamie, tossing pebbles into the water. The little lad was subdued and clingy today, certainly not his usual smiling self. As they approached, Blair scooped him up and cuddled him.

"Is he all right?" Maria asked anxiously.

"He will be," Blair said, kissing the boy's temple.

Maria nodded. She stood awkwardly before Jim and Blair, seeming unable to meet their eyes. "You never seemed to wonder why my Maria left home the way she did," she said abruptly.

Blair exchanged a surprised look with Jim. "Rich told us she ran away with a soldier. I guess we assumed she had fallen in love."

"I think she did," Maria said lowly. "I hope so, for her sake. But it went back further than that. My Maria always said I never understood her. She was right." The lady cast a look at Jamie and then looked away. "It was so different when her father was alive. The two of them understood each other so well. They would roam around together, even into the jungle. I never understood completely why."

Jim frowned curiously.

"Yesterday I could see it," Maria said. "Jamie is like my Maria." She faced Jim, looking directly into his eyes. "And so are you."

Jim straightened his shoulders, meeting her gaze directly. "Yes," he admitted proudly.

"In all the years since I lost my girl I never dreamt of her, not once. There was an emptiness inside me, enough to make me cry." Maria wiped at her eyes and then smiled, just a little. "Last night I was dreaming about the ground shaking underneath me, and then I felt a touch on my hand." The small smile became soft and dreamy. "It was my Maria, my girl, next to me, holding my hand. She didn't say much, she didn't have to. I understood. She was telling me she wanted Jamie to stay with you." Maria nodded her head, her eyes wet, her lips still curved into a smile. "For the first time ever, I understood my girl."

Blair reached out and clutched at Jim's hand. "Then you're not going to try and take him away?" he whispered.

Maria shook her head. "My girl wants him with you, and that's enough for me. I don't..." she paused. "I don't like the way you live," she said shakily. "But I don't suppose that matters. Jamie needs someone who understands him."

"And who loves him," Jim finished. "Very much."

"I'm glad you saw your Maria," Blair said softly, as they all turned to leave.

"It settled my mind," Maria agreed. "Although, I think I have a lot of praying to do to come to terms with these other things. You know, it was the strangest thing." She shrugged self-consciously. "As Maria left me, walking off through the jungle, I thought I saw a jaguar walking by her side."

Blair's hand squeezed Jim's convulsively.

"I wonder what it meant?" Maria wondered. "And why she had her hand on his head?"

000

Later that day, Jim and Blair sat with Jamie in the departure lounge, waiting for their flight home. Jamie wanted to doze, tired after his disturbed night, but Blair was trying to keep him awake, hoping he would then sleep most of the journey home.

"It would explain some things," Blair mused, "If young Maria had some sentinel abilities. Like, why she was killed so far from the others. Maybe she warned them of approaching danger and then tried to flee with her boy?"

Jim tilted Jamie's nodding head and kissed the boy's nose. "Wake up, piglet," he murmured. "We are going home soon."

"Okay," Jamie yawned. He tightened his fist around the small silver cross his grandmother had pressed into his hand.

"I don't suppose we'll ever know for sure," Jim shrugged.

"Maybe," Blair conceded. "But there doesn't seem to be much doubt that Jamie really does have family now. I'm glad for him."

Jim touched Blair's hand gently. "He always had family, Chief. Children belong to the people who love them."

Blair lifted a finger and wrapped it around Jim's, binding them together. "I know," he returned with a smile. "I guess I meant that he has a background. A family tree, at least on one side. Gives him something in common with me."

"It will certainly make it easier to make explanations to him later on," Jim agreed.

"I feel bad about leaving Rich in the hospital, especially since he was only in Mexico City for our sake."

"We'll make it up to him," Jim said. "Whether we agreed about everything or not, he's still our friend."

Blair looked thoughtful. "Doesn't it amaze you, Jim? How people expect us to take mortal insults with a smile on our face?" Blair put on a funny voice. "Oh, yes, of course we don't mind you doubting our very fitness as parents, just because of our sexual inclinations! Of course we don't mind the fact that we have to be twice as good as everyone at everything just to be allowed to play on the same field! Tolerate us? Yes, of course we don't mind being tolerated! As long as you don't mind us tolerating your bigoted, morally bankrupt presence in our world!"

Blair broke off, chest heaving. Jamie was wide awake now, staring up at his father in consternation. Jim gave an incredulous laugh.

"Got some unresolved issues there, Chief?"

Blair shrugged, still catching his breath. His face was a little red.

"You think?" he asked innocently.

Jim laughed again. "Don't worry about it, Blair. We've made it this far. Granny gets to keep in contact as long as she plays nice. I promise."

Now it was Blair's turn to stare. "You don't change, do you?"

"Do you want me to?"

Blair reached over and planted a kiss on Jim's mouth, not caring about the crowds milling around them. "Never," he vowed.

Their flight was called and they stood, gathering up their hand luggage.

"Time to go home," Blair said in satisfaction.

"Home," Jim agreed.

"Home," Jamie said firmly.

The End.

Back