No Regrets.

by Gillian 

Jim walked along the quiet street, hands in his coat pockets. It was a balmy night, rich with the pungent scents of spicy food cooking over open fires. In the nearby market wrinkled old women shook scarred pots over fiery braziers, tossing steamed vegetables and tasty morsels of meat into the air, releasing their scents to tease the senses of passers-by.

Resisting the temptation to slip down an alley and sample something delicious, Jim pressed on. His meeting had taken longer than he had expected, and it was now full dark. He wasn't exactly afraid of being on the mean streets of Bangkok alone at night, but a wise man didn't take any chances. And this definitely counted as the low side of town.

The main road was ahead, and Jim was just considering flagging down the local equivalent of a taxi, when he heard the sounds of pursuit behind him. He whipped around in time to catch sight of a slim figure turning down an alley way. He cursed under his breath as four or five figures followed close on his heels.

Torn by indecision only a moment, Jim began to sprint toward the alley. Passing by moments before he had noted that the end was blocked by a high metal fence, something the hunted figure in this little drama might not know.

At the mouth of the alley he slowed, clearly hearing crashing sounds and young male voices as someone thrashed around among the garbage and yelled in Thai. Another voice sounded, and Jim cursed again. This one spoke English.

"Leave me alone. I told you, I don't have any money!" The accent was distinctly American.

"Then you'll have to give us something else," one of the others growled in his own language.

"Not tonight," Jim said loudly, stepping into the alley. He knew the light was behind him and he put his hands on his hips, trying to make his silhouette look as threatening as he could manage. Now he could clearly see the scene before him. A slight figure in a long coat was facing four teenagers. The quarry was leaning back into the metal fence, clutching the wire tightly. The four hunters were dressed in cut off vests and jeans, their shiny silver chains and earrings identifying them as street toughs.

"Clear off!" one of them yelled in Thai. "This is none of your business."

Jim sighed and stepped forward again, letting the lapels of his coat fall open to reveal his tight black T-shirt, outlining his rippling muscles. "Why don't you boys get out of here?" he said softly. "Before I'm forced to hurt some of you?"

One of the boys nudged another one and he nodded, backing away from the stricken youngster against the fence. He sidled around Jim, who obligingly stepped back to give him room. Once clear he ran, disappearing into the dark street. His companions seemed to wait until he was safely away before they followed him, melting away with only a few insults yelled back over their shoulders.

Jim ignored them, busy studying the slight figure in front of him. The boy had released his death grip on the fence and was clutching his coat around him.

"Are you okay?" Jim asked gently.

The boy nodded. "Thanks," he said. "Um, are you an American?"

Jim nodded. "Uh huh. You're American too, right?"

"Yeah," the kid confirmed. He stepped forward into a patch of moonlight and looked up at Jim, causing the older man's heart to miss a beat. Wide blue eyes stared up at him from a baby smooth face. Pale skin was framed by a wealth of rich umber hair, a wild riot of curls chopped severely at the ears. The boy looked like an angel.

"Uh, you shouldn't be out here alone," Jim said lamely, desperately attempting to regain his composure.

The teenager looked around fearfully. "I wasn't alone until a while ago. My friends ran away when those creeps started following us."

"Nice friends," Jim commented, gaining control over his baser emotions. This is a kid, he lectured himself. "Where's your family?"

The boy shrugged.

"Well, what are you doing wandering around a neighborhood like this on your own?" Jim demanded, beginning to feel impatient. This kid was a walking invitation to trouble. It was hard to believe he had survived this long out here. "If you ducked away from your parents looking for a quick thrill on the streets of Bangkok, you made a serious mistake."

The kid drew himself up proudly. "Look, I appreciate the rescue, mister. But I don't need a lecture from you."

"You need one from someone," Jim began, when a sound penetrated his consciousness. He tilted his head and listened hard for a moment. "Damn," he said softly. "I think your hunters are coming back, with reinforcements."

The boy looked frightened and Jim shook his head. If anything the kid was even more gorgeous when he was afraid. "I can't hear anything," he whispered.

"Trust me," Jim said, heading back to the alleys mouth. He turned and looked at the kid. "Coming?"

"Where?" the kid said fearfully.

"The hell away from here," Jim bit out, turning back out onto the street and heading for the bright lights of the main road. For long moments he wondered if he was going to have to turn back and drag the boy out of there, and then he heard rapid footsteps behind him.

Hurrying up the street they reached the well lit road, just as Jim detected the sounds of a half a dozen runners heading for the alley. A small local cab was cruising past and Jim raised a hand, flagging it down. Crossing two lanes of traffic the cab screeched to a smoky stop nearby.

Jim opened the door and turned to see the kid still standing on the curb. "It's okay," Jim assured him. "I just want to help you."

The boy's face was a picture of indecision. He looked searchingly at Jim, and then back behind him at the narrow dirt street. Suddenly a gang of teens appeared around the corner, jostling and pushing one another. Listening to their loud laughter and crude jokes, Jim wasn't even sure it was the same group that had accosted the kid before, but they were certainly enough to make up his mind. He flew over to the cab and dived past Jim into the back seat.

"I must be crazy," the young man muttered into his collar as the cab roared away from the curb.

"Paradise Hotel," Jim directed the driver, and then leaned back into his seat. "Don't worry about it, kid," the soldier said laconically. "I am just playing the Good Samaritan with a fellow American."

"Please don't call me kid," the young man said softly. "My name is Blair. Blair Sandburg."

Jim surveyed his hunched form.

"I'm Jim Ellison," he said, holding out one hand.

The kid looked at the outstretched hand as if it were a snake that might bite him. Gingerly he extended his own hand and grasped it.

"It really is okay," Jim said gently, shaking the boy's hand and then releasing it. "You're not my type."

Blair stiffened and then sank even further back into the seat. Wondering if his blatant lie had been obvious, Jim leaned forward in concern.

"Hey, what did I say?"

"Nothing," Blair insisted.

"Look, maybe you should just tell me where your parents are," Jim suggested, growing tired of the game. "I promise to just drop you off and not get you into any trouble with them."

"There's just my mom," Blair mumbled.

"And?" Jim frowned impatiently. "Where is she?"

"I don't know," Blair admitted. He suddenly looked relieved, as if admitting this was like shedding a burden. "I don't know where she is."

Jim sat back, not all together surprised. Upon closer inspection young Blair didn't look like some fun-seeking tourist. His clothes were worn and threadbare, his shoes ripped and scuffed along the sides. He didn't exactly look like he had been living rough, but he also didn't look as if he had just emerged from one of the hundreds of tourist hotels Bangkok boasted.

"We're here," Jim announced quietly as the cab screeched to a halt. Thrusting a handful of the paper money at the driver, Jim climbed out, holding the ragged door open for his young companion.

Blair emerged, holding the coat closely around himself. Jim recognized it as a defense mechanism.

"Are you hungry?" Jim asked. "There's a cafe next door. I was going to grab a burger, do you want one?"

Blair nodded and followed as Jim led him into the tourist place. It was set up like a fifties diner, with red leather seats and tiny silver jukeboxes in each booth. This part of town was geared towards the tourist. It was amazing just how many tourists scorned the local food in favor of more familiar fare.

"Two burgers and fries," Jim called to the waiter in a white apron and cap. "And a couple of cokes."

Jim slid into the booth and waited until the kid was sitting opposite him.

"Okay, now. What's your story?"

Blair fiddled with a paper menu. He shrugged. "It's no big deal. My mom and I have been traveling around for a while, you know. A couple of weeks ago she took off with some guy, and she never came back."

"Weeks?" Jim repeated incredulously. "You've been on the streets for weeks?"

"I haven't been on the streets," Blair said defensively. "It wasn't like that. Naomi left me staying with friends."

"The same friends who abandoned you back there?" Jim asked laconically.

Blair shook his head. "No. Naomi was only supposed to be gone a week. The people I was staying with... Well, things got tough. One of the sons lost his job and money got tight. I picked up some work but it didn't really help. A couple of days ago I came home from work and they were gone."

Aware of the transient nature of some of the locals, Jim was still appalled. "These are the kind of people your mother left you with?"

"It was only supposed to be a week!" Blair repeated. The waiter deposited their coke bottles in front of them and Blair lowered his voice. "She's always come back for me when she said she would. I'm afraid she might be in trouble."

"No offence, kid, but your mom's troubles are the least of your concerns." Jim sighed, looking down at his watch. This was the last thing he needed right now. "Look, in the morning I will take you to the American consulate."

Blair was shaking his head. "No way, man," he protested. He pushed his coke away and began to slide from the booth. "Look, just forget this, okay?"

Jim reached out and grabbed the boy's forearm. "No, it's not okay," he said firmly. "Look, kid, what is the problem? You want to find your mom, right? Well, reporting her missing is the first step."

"But..." the kid sat back down, looking miserable. "But what if I get her into trouble?"

Jim surveyed the boy's averted face perceptively. Something was telling him Naomi Sandburg had been dabbling in things young Blair wouldn't want spread around. The soldier clamped down on his anger. He hated to see a nice kid like Blair messed around like that.

"Look, Chief," Jim began, leaning forward. "You need someone to take care of you, and the consulate will do that. Your mom needs a place to go to look for you when she does come back, and the consulate seems to be the logical place. Right?"

Blair considered this while the food arrived and the waiter laid it out on the table in front of him.

"I guess so," he admitted eventually.

"All right then." Jim nodded at the food. "Eat up before the food gets cold then."

Blair picked up a fry with little interest, but after a few morsels his young appetite kicked in and he began to consume them in earnest.

"You can sleep in my suite tonight," Jim continued, helping himself to his burger.

Blair froze, a fry halfway to his mouth. "Your suite," he repeated numbly.

Jim shook his head, annoyed by the reaction, but not surprised by it. "Yes. On the couch," he stressed. "Believe me, kid, I don't want you there in any major way. It won't do my reputation any good if I'm caught with some teenage hustler in my room."

Blair stared at Jim for a moment, disbelief on his face. "I'm not a hustler!" he said, slamming his plate forward. Some fries bounced off, skittering on the slippery table. "I never... I never did that!"

Jim was instantly ashamed of himself. There were real tears standing in the kids eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. He reached out and touched one of Blair's fists were it lay clenched on the table. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Blair looked down at the table, lifting one hand to quickly wipe away a damp track on his cheek. Jim busied himself picking up scattered fries and pretended he hadn't seen.

"I never did that," Blair repeated softly.

"I believe you," Jim assured him. "I don't even know why I said it. Because you're a pretty kid, I guess."

Blair looked up at Jim in disbelief. "I can never believe it when people say that," he blurted out. "I usually figure they're after something."

Jim huffed a laugh. "Well, I'm not after anything," he said, wondering even as he spoke whether that was the whole truth. Desire was one thing, acting on that desire was another. "It's just a fact, that's all."

"I can't see it myself," Blair shrugged, picking at the lettuce at the edges of his burger. "I'd rather people just ignored me, actually."

Jim suppressed a smile, and the urge to tell young Blair that his wish wasn't going to come true any time soon.

He decided not to quiz the boy any more, figuring it was better he got some food in his belly. Sitting back sipping his coke, Jim studied him curiously, trying to guess his age. At times he looked all of twelve or thirteen, all big eyes and pure skin. Then at other times he would turn his head or say something, and Jim could see the young man in him. His voice was mature, low and sweet, but his eyes had an odd mixture of innocence and knowledge. It was a heartbreaking mix, Jim decided.

The sooner he had the lad sorted and out of his life, the better he would feel.

"How old are you?" he asked curiously.

"Eighteen," Blair mumbled, mouth full.

"Jim laughed. "Yeah, right. I figure, what? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"No way!" Blair blurted, swallowing so quickly he almost choked himself. He coughed, and Jim leaned forward and patted his back firmly. "I'm sixteen," Blair admitted.

Jim scrutinized him closely. "Or pretty close to it," he muttered. Blair ignored him, finishing his burger and sucking down the last of his coke.

"Okay, so is it settled? You can spend the night on the couch?"

Blair looked at him with wide, solemn eyes and then nodded. "Why are you doing this?" he asked as Jim stood up, throwing a wad of paper money on the table.

Jim resisted the urge to pat the pretty boy on his pretty curls.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," he told him, leading the way out of cafe. "Fellow Americans, remember?"

000

Blair waited until Jim closed the door behind him before relaxing. There was something piercing in the way the young man looked at him, something that made him feel as if he could see right through him.

Recalling Jim's comments about hustling, Blair shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest. Did Jim know somehow, how close he had come to selling himself? With a flush of shame Blair considered the work he had been doing for the last three nights. Was that really so far from outright prostitution?

Unwilling to dwell on his past mistakes any further, Blair began to poke around the room. He noted that the mini bar was still fully stocked, but that the coffee sachets were nearly gone. There was a TV behind a fancy oriental cabinet and Blair flicked it on, settling back onto the sofa to watch the news.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he felt was a heavy hand covering his mouth, smothering his automatic cry of distress. His first thought was that he had misjudged his young rescuer badly. He was about to get raped, maybe even killed, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Squinting against the flickering light of the television screen, Blair quickly realised he had it all wrong. The man who covered his mouth was a stranger, scarred all down one cheek. Another man stood behind him, and through the door behind them Jim emerged, pushed by a third man. All three were Thai, and all three carried lethal looking black pistols.

"Chen," Jim said in disgust. "What the hell is this about?"

"Change in plans, Jim," the man covering Blair's mouth said pleasantly. He lifted his hand away and grabbed Blair's shoulder, dragging him to his feet. "Our schedule has been moved up a bit."

Blair looked from the scarred man to Jim, sensing the deadly tension in the room.

"What's with the kid, Jimmy?" Chen asked, stroking the barrel of the gun down Blair's cheek. The smell of gun oil strong in his nostrils, Blair tried to hide his fear, looking over at Jim desperately.

"He's mine," Jim said tightly, taking a step forward. The man behind him pointed the gun at his temple.

Chen grinned. "Yours, hmm? Then why was he sleeping on the couch?" Chen again stroked the barrel along Blair's skin, down his throat to the opening of his T-shirt. "If this was mine, he would be in my bed."

"I just fell asleep watching TV," Blair blurted. It wasn't hard to decide whose side he should be on in this argument.

"He has nothing to do with this," Jim insisted. "Look, Chen. I thought we had a deal here? And now you come busting into my room, scaring my boy? What's up with that?"

Chen studied Blair's wide blue eyes for a few moments more and then grabbed his shoulder, pushing him towards Jim roughly. Stumbling forward, Blair grabbed Jim's forearms, glad to step into the older man's sheltering embrace. Where hours before he had shunned a man's touch, he now welcomed the sense of safety Jim's broad shoulders gave him.

"I told you, change in plans," Chen said, abrupt all of a sudden. "Get your stuff together, Jim. We have a long drive ahead of us."

Blair saw Jim's jaw clench, but the big man didn't argue. He led Blair into his bedroom and dressed under the men's watchful eyes. Chen approached Blair, stroking one finger down the side of his hair. Blair couldn't help flinching.

"Leave him alone," Jim ordered.

"I know you, don't I?" Chen said suddenly. "You work at Mama's Place, right?"

Jim straightened. Blair felt a flush crawling under his skin.

"You know, Bo?" Chen said to the man behind him. "That place with all the pretty gay boys who dance?"

Bo shrugged and muttered something in another language.

Blair flushed even redder.

"He's mine now," Jim growled.

"You have better taste than I expected," Chen said insolently, flicking a strand of Blair's hair. "And you give yourself away. You make the boy a weapon I can use against you."

Jim tied his boot lace with a savage twist and straightened. He was dressed from head to foot in black. "Do you need a weapon against me, Chen? I thought we were on the same side in this?"

Chen snorted in disgust and gestured for the door. "Let's get out of here. If we want to get the job done we have to leave now."

"Let the boy stay here," Jim insisted. "He can wait here for me."

Chen casually lifted the pistol and held it to Blair's temple. "He comes with us or he stays here dead," he said softly. "You decide."

Blair desperately wished he had never walked down that road with his friends from Mama's Place. Wished he'd never met Jim Ellison and his trigger-happy associates.

Jim set his jaw. "With us," he said, reaching out for Blair again. Chen shoved him from behind and he again landed against Jim's chest, burying his nose in the soft fleece of the black pullover. For the hundredth time in the last week he wanted to weep, but for the first time he wanted someone's strong arms around him. Would Jim Ellison be any good at giving comfort?

Blair never got a chance to find out. They were hustled out of the hotel and into a black van idling in the street. Blair sprawled onto the floor of the van, hearing Jim climb in behind him. Rolling onto his back, Blair dusted his hands together. He was really getting sick of being pushed around.

The doors slammed behind them and they were left in the dim interior. It was lit by a thin beam of moonlight from the high narrow window. Doors slammed and the van set off.

Blair scrambled onto his heels. "What the hell-" he began. Jim shushed him.

Eyes adjusting to the darkness, Blair watched the young man scrabble to the front of the van, pressing his ear to the metal wall. "It's okay," Jim announced. "They're not listening in."

"How the hell do you know that? And what the hell is going on?" Blair sputtered.

"I can hear them," Jim said absently, head still cocked in a listening attitude. "I'm kicking myself that I never heard them coming upstairs."

Blair shook his head numbly. "What are you talking about?" he beseeched. "You know those creeps?"

Jim sighed and sat down on the floor. "I do," he reported. "It's a long story."

Blair felt a bubble of hysteria rise in his throat. "Well, I seem to have time," he pointed out in a high voice.

Jim scooted over and wrapped a big arm around his shoulders. "Calm down, Chief," he said bracingly. "You did good back there. I can't believe how well you handled yourself with those guys."

"Yeah?" Blair said weakly, flattered despite himself by the older man's praise. "I just tried to keep my head, that's all."

"You were terrific. I need you to keep it up just a little while longer, do you think you can do that?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kid," Blair huffed, shrugging Jim's arm off. "I'm not a fool, In can see those guys are no friends of yours. But you know them, don't you? You work for them?"

"I work for the good guys, Blair," Jim said softly. "But as far as Chen is concerned I am a sharp shooter looking to score some big money on the side."

"Why would they think that?" Blair asked in a hushed voice.

"The people I work for have a background set up for me," Jim informed him. "As an assassin."

Blair gulped. "An assassin?" he whispered. "They want you to kill someone?"

"Yeah," Jim said grimly. "An important man is arriving in Bangkok in two days. I met with Chen earlier tonight to negotiate a deal to do the job. My orders from my real bosses are to fake the job and pick up Chen and the guy running him, at the payoff."

Blair cast a fearful glance towards the front of the van. "Do you think he knows?"

"If he knew, I'd be dead," Jim said baldly. He heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Blair. I honestly didn't think you would be in any danger when I asked you to come back to my room."

Blair shrugged. "I guess you saved me from worse back in that alley," he said honestly. "Where do you think they are taking us now?"

"South, onto the peninsula, I think. But the man they want isn't even in the country yet," Jim said. "I have no idea where we are going."

The van drove over a series of bumps and Blair groaned, trying to brace himself against the wall. Jim pulled him closer and this time Blair stayed under his arm, clinging to the young man's broad torso.

"Blair?" Jim asked quietly. "What was that stuff about you dancing?"

Blair stiffened and tired to shift away but Jim held him fast. "I'm not judging you," he insisted. "My God, Blair. Your mother abandoned you on the streets of Bangkok! You did what you had to to survive, I understand that."

"She didn't abandon me," Blair said, but it was a half-hearted protest at best. It really was beginning to feel as if Naomi had forgotten about him completely this time. "And I didn't lie to you. I wasn't hustling," Blair finished miserably.

"What were you doing then?"

"Thasan told me about it," Blair said quietly. "He and his brothers would dance there. That's all they had to do. They did more, and got extra money for it, but I never did, Jim. I never did."

"I believe you," Jim said softly.

"The dancing wasn't hard," Blair continued. "I just closed my eyes and moved to the music, that seemed to be all they wanted. Sometimes more than one of us would dance."

Blair closed his eyes, visualizing it clearly. The small dance floor, the leering eyes in the smoke filled room. The loud music, taking him over, letting him tune it all out while he swayed, stripping slowly to the sound.

"Men offered me money for more," Blair admitted painfully. "But I didn't take it."

"Was that where you stayed when your friends moved away?" Jim interjected softly.

"Yeah. Mama isn't a bad sort. But he told me if I wanted a room any longer I would have to pay for it. By tricking, I guess."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Blair," Jim said softly. The van bumped again and Jim curved him closer to his body. "You shouldn't have had to make those kinds of choices."

Blair fought the urge to curl into Jim's body. "Thasan and his brother aren't even gay," he whispered. "But the men didn't care. I don't care what happens now, as long as I don't have to go back there."

Jim tightened his hold. "I'll make sure you don't," he said fiercely. It sounded like a vow.

000

Jim knew the moment Blair dozed off and he sighed in relief. At least the boy was getting some rest, fitful as it must be under these conditions. He shifted in his sleep, and Jim held him a little closer, finding it easier to fight his unwelcome desire. Blair's pathetic little story had dampened his ardor considerably. It was one thing to see a beautiful object and desire it, but it was quite another to hold a frightened boy close and even think about becoming the very thing that frightened him.

The big dark world was full of predators waiting to prey on the innocent. Jim was damned if he was going to become one of the monsters. He would chop off his right arm before letting that happen. Or anything else that rose its ugly head.

They sped on through the night, and finally, just as Jim could see the pale light of dawn through the right side window, the van began to slow.

000

The house was large, brick with a kind of white stucco covering it. Blair blinked the sleep from his eyes as he stumbled out of the van, leaning into Jim's strong reach. Behind them was a metal fence with a large gate which was swinging slowly closed behind them. Chen came around the van, his weapon slung casually under his arm, but still pointing at Jim.

"Welcome to my home," he said cheerfully. "Bo will show you to your room, make yourself comfortable, our briefing is after we've all had a bite to eat."

"Briefing," Jim repeated flatly. "I thought that's what we did yesterday."

Chen shook his head slowly, his flat black eyes fixed on Jim's face. "Yesterday was a blind, Jimmy, surely you realised that? Before you do any real work for me you have to prove yourself. You haven't done that yet, but your chance will come." The scarred man turned his back on them and the one called Bo gestured for them to follow.

The house was large and airy, and somewhere in the distance Jim could hear other voices and footsteps. They were led down a long corridor to a door which Bo opened. He gestured inside.

"How long are we supposed to stay here?" Jim said, not having to feign anger.

Bo shrugged and gestured inside again. Jim passed him and out of the corner of his eye he saw Bo extend a hand to Blair as he crossed the threshold. Quick as a thought, Jim pulled the boy in and placed himself between him and the Thai man.

"Try to touch him again and you'll draw back a stump," Jim growled.

Bo sneered and then laughed in his face before slamming the door closed. Jim could hear a key being turned and a bolt being drawn.

"This is very bad," Blair was saying behind him. Turning, Jim could see him standing in the middle of the sparse room, hugging his arms. "There is no way they're gonna let us out of here alive."

"Chen wants me to prove myself," Jim said, thinking furiously. "It's possible that whatever job he wants me to do now is the one he wanted originally. The other might have been a cover."

"And why else would he lie to you and then kidnap you if he didn't think you were a plant?" Blair said through clenched teeth. "He's going to kill us."

"If he wanted us dead we'd be dead," Jim repeated patiently.

"OK, well, maybe he wants to torture us first," Blair said gloomily. "To find out who we work for."

"Then he'd be doing it," Jim said absently, his attention shifting as he heard voices in the front of the house. His mind raced as he listened, straining to hear and translate at the same time. He must have missed something Blair said, because the next thing he knew the boy was grabbing his arm and swinging him to face him.

"Are you even listening to me?" Blair was saying furiously.

"Shh," Jim said. He went over to the door and listened again, feeling the blood freezing in his chest. Chen was right, he'd given them a weapon to use against him in the form of the younger man. If Blair had never happened along he might have been able to brazen his way through this, but that option was gone. Before nightfall they would be taking him out to do his job, leaving Blair here in Bo's tender hands. Bo and whoever else was here.

Jim cast a look at Blair who was standing next to the rooms only window peering out through the bars. The thought of what they might do to the boy was nauseating. With gritted teeth Jim admitted to himself that he had messed up, badly.

His only option now was to get out.

But how?

000

Blair peered out into the bright morning light, studying with dismay the high metal fence that surrounded the house.

"We have to get out of here," Jim said behind him.

"No shit," Blair muttered. He turned and faced the young man who had dragged him into this mess. "Any idea how?"

Jim was tilted his head in a listening attitude again, and Blair studied him in dismay. This guy thought he was superman or something, listening in on imaginary conversations with his x-ray hearing. At that moment the teenager decided he would cut loose from this crazy guy as soon as he could.

Blair had a sudden image of the thug, Bo, and his leering grin. He shivered and rubbed his arms. One thing was for certain, he wouldn't cut loose from Jim until they were well away from here.

"They're leaving," Jim said suddenly.

"Is that right?" Blair said, deciding to play along with the guy.

"Chen and one of his men. That leaves Bo and at least two others."

Despite himself Blair shivered again at the thug's name. "Okay, man. Whatever."

Jim turned and frowned at him. "What?"

His genuine confusion acted like a goad on Blair. "I said, whatever." Blair drawled sarcastically. "Like, whatever you say you can hear, I believe you."

Jim's face cleared and he glanced over his shoulder at the stout wooden door. "I guess you don't hear it, do you?" he mused quietly.

"No," Blair shouted. "Okay! I don't hear it, and neither do you, you crazy bastard!"

Jim frowned again and his eyes grew a little unfocused.

Oh, that's just great, Blair, the teen lectured himself. Annoy your only friend in this mess. Even if he is a loony.

"They heard that," Jim reported. He swung around and stalked over to Blair. "Do it again."

"Wha- what?" Blair stammered, backing up a step. This guy was big!

"Yell at me, and I'll yell back. Bo is just looking for an excuse to come back here. Let's give it to him."

"Are you nuts?" Blair spat out.

"This is our best chance," Jim said earnestly. "While the others are gone."

"Our best chance to what? Get me raped?" Blair said incredulously.

"You have to trust me, Chief," Jim said quietly. "If we get him in here I can overpower him."

"Let me get this straight. I lure laughing boy back here, the guy with the big gun and the big fucking attitude, and you 'overpower' him?" Blair shook his head in disbelief. "No way, man."

"Blair," Jim said with deadly force, grabbing one of the teen's shoulders and holding him still. He stared into his eyes. "This is our best chance. I won't let him hurt you."

And I'm supposed to believe that, Blair thought to himself, studying the light blue eyes so close to his own. Coming from a lunatic who hears sounds no-one else can hear. A lunatic who put himself between you and the thug already, Blair's little voice piped up. Your only friend in this mess.

"Shit," Blair muttered. "All right, what do I do?"

000

Jim listened hard as Blair screamed convincingly and then started to beg.

"Please, no, don't hit me!" he screeched.

Wincing, Jim attempted to focus on the voices of the three men at the back of the house. They were laughing, commenting on his rough treatment of the boy who he had claimed as his own.

"This is all your fault!" Jim thundered. He picked up a chair and swung it against the door and Blair yelped. With satisfaction Jim heard a chair scrape back four rooms away and Bo's heavy tread coming down the hall.

"It's working," he hissed at a sobbing Blair. He leaned over and laid a hand on Blair's shoulder again, feeling the sturdy muscles clench under his fingers. "Huddle on the floor, with your face in your hands. Don't let him get too close a look, or he'll see you're suspiciously bruise-free for someone having the shit kicked out of him."

Blair's wide blue eyes looked at him uncertainly for a moment, and, acting on impulse, Jim dropped a broad wink.

Blair looked startled, and then he grinned. "Jim," he moaned. "Please don't hurt me."

Jim squeezed his shoulder and then stepped back, just as the bolt on the door was shot, and Bo pushed it open. As expected his gun was up, and he swung it and pointed its deadly barrel at Jim's belly.

Blair played his part, huddled on the floor amid the wreckage of the chair and the lamp. He was on his knees, face in his hands, sobbing loudly.

"If you don't want the boy here," Bo leered. "You just had to say so. I'm sure he'll be happier out here with me, than with you. Eh, boy?"

Blair nodded, hands still on his face. He rose and stumbled, head down, short curls obscuring his face. Bo leaned over with one hand outstretched and Jim made his move. Lightening fast his hand whipped out and with all his strength he threw the light bulb he had unscrewed from the lamp minutes earlier.

Bo reacted, but he was a moment too late, and the glass bulb smashing into his face sent his shot wild. The gun spat out a deadly spray of bullets, which struck harmlessly at the stained ceiling.

A moment later Jim had the thug down and a vicious chop to his throat put him out of action.

"Shit, it worked," Blair said, looking stunned.

Jim ran quick hands down the thug's body, coming up with a pistol and a wicked looking knife strapped to one ankle. Listening hard he traced the sounds of the other two men in the house, They were panicked at the sounds of the shots, and even Blair could hear their voices as they called down the hall for their friend.

"Let's get the hell outta here," Blair hissed, and tucking the pistol into his belt Jim nodded his agreement. With the P-90 feeling familiar in the crook of his arm, Jim led them to the front of the house, kicking the front door open and looking around wildly.

"There's no car here," Blair reported, eyes panicked. "Jim? What do we do?"

There was no time to hesitate, Jim could hear the two men behind them, in the room they had just fled. "To the front gate," he ordered, taking off at a run. Blair at his heels they ran through the now open gate and onto the road.

Well aware they were sitting ducks out here, Jim threw his senses wide open, using them as he had never even attempted before. A sound and smell hit him at once and he turned and pushed through the undergrowth.

"Where are we going?" Blair panted behind him.

"Here," Jim announced, pushing aside the fronds of a tree and jumping down a bank onto a muddy shore. A few yards away a white motor boat bobbed gently at its mooring on the end of a ancient wooden jetty.

The pair clambered up the splintery jetty and while Blair climbed aboard Jim untied the line and tossed it into the boat.

"There's no key here," Blair said, eyes sweeping over the console.

"There has to be," Jim muttered, half his attention on their pursuers. "Who would steal a boat out here?"

"We would," Blair panted.

Jim quirked a look at him, taking in the sweaty, dirt streaked face looking cheekily back at him. The kid looked gorgeous.

"Stand aside," Blair ordered. Jim took an automatic step back while Blair groped under the dash and pulled out a handful of wires. "Just like hot wiring Naomi's clunker every time she lost the keys," Blair said as he pulled out a fancy pocket knife and stripped a couple of wires.

"Hurry," Jim urged, hearing their pursuers find their trail.

Blair touched two wires together and Jim popped the clutch. The motor roared into life, and while Blair twisted the wires together, Jim nosed their new acquisition out into the deep water and aimed her down the river.

"Down!" he yelled at Blair, just as a barrage of shots broke over the bow. Full throttle, the little boat roared away, taking them out of range.

"We're going the wrong way!" Blair yelled over the roaring engine, as they left their attackers behind. "We're just heading further down the peninsula!"

"I don't fancy our chances of turning this thing around," Jim yelled back. He slowed a little, unwilling to take any unnecessary chances on an unfamiliar river. "Right now let's just concentrate on getting as far away from those guys as possible, okay?"

"Okay," Blair agreed. "Hey! There's a radio."

Jim looked from Blair's delighted face to the small radio.

"We can call your bosses, right? They can come get us!"

Jim set his jaw and gazed at the water before them.

000

Heart sinking, Blair studied the face of his new friend. Just when he thought old Jim wasn't such a loony after all, something like this happened and his suspicions raised their ugly heads again.

"Jim?" he ventured.

"I'm sorry, Blair," Jim said, jaw tense. "I can't call anyone. There's no-one to call."

"You don't work for the good guys?" Blair said in a small voice.

"I used to," Jim assured him. "But right now, no. I'm on my own. We're on our own."

"You-" Blair broke off, not sure he wanted to know the answer to the question he was about to ask. "You really are an assassin, aren't you."

Jim set his jaw again and Blair felt a pain in his chest. It felt like his heart was breaking.

Without another word he backed up and turned away, going to the back of the boat and sinking down to the deck among the petrol cans and tangled mooring ropes. He rested his forehead on his knees, not wanting to look at Jim, not wanting to hear anything else.

The engine buzzed in his ears and weariness swam at the edges of his vision. A moment later he drifted into a fitful sleep.

000

Jim blinked the moisture from his eyes, telling himself it was pure exhaustion he was blinking away. The fear and disgust in Blair's eyes was biting into him, eating at his soul, making him question every decision he had made that had bought him to this place.

Above him the trees met and the river narrowed. Dappled patches of sunlight drifted over his skin as he carefully nosed the little boat up the river, the muddy brown water parting before them.

Casting a glance over his shoulder, Jim studied the boy sleeping fitfully at the bow. Sunlight bought out the red highlights in his curls, and accentuated the shadows of his absurdly long lashes on his cheeks. Jim felt the full weight of his responsibility on his shoulders.

It was his fault Blair was here, it was his fault that the boy was in danger.

And now Blair thought he was some kind of criminal.

000

The sun was high in the sky when Blair jerked awake. For a moment he was disorientated.

"Mom?" he mumbled.

"Chief?"

Blair stumbled to his feet, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "Where are we?" he muttered.

"No idea," Jim said cheerfully.

Blair scanned the area, another muddy bank, trees sweeping so deeply their tips touched the surface of the water. "Then why have we stopped?"

Jim gestured to the dashboard. "Nearly out of gas. Besides, we're far enough away now."

Blair gently kicked on of the petrol cans, hearing the empty hollow clang echoing over the quiet water. The engine had been strumming in his ears for so long, it all seemed spooky without it.

"What are we going to do?" he asked quietly.

"Gather what you can carry," Jim ordered. "We go on from here on foot." He leaned over and tossed the automatic rifle over the side. "It's too bulky to carry," he explained to Blair's questioning look.

Blair shrugged and gazed into the forbidding forest around them, then back at the strong young man peering into the tiny cupboards under the dash. With a sigh he looked around the boat.

He picked up the rope, untying it from a cleat and wrapping it around his waist. There was a picnic blanket and a faded red vinyl cushion on the bench and he picked them up too.

The boat was bobbing gently in shallow water a few feet from the shore, and with a nod from Jim he vaulted over the side, grimacing as his sand shoes and cuffs were soaked. He splashed to the shore and turned and watched as Jim followed him. Tossing his load onto the ground Jim then proceeded to strip down to his underwear.

"Uh, Jim?" Blair watched mesmerized as a well muscled set of shoulders was revealed. Swallowing around an unexpected lump in his throat Blair blinked as Jim at last stood before him clad only in a pair of black boxers. Unable to tear his eyes away from the incredible body in front of him, Blair tried to speak, grimacing as the first word emerged as a squeak.

"Jim? Uh, what are you doing?"

"I want to cast the boat adrift, so our pursuers can't get a bead on us straight away. I'll head it in the right direction and swim back to shore."

Blair grimaced at the sluggish, muddy water nervously. "What about crocodiles?"

Jim huffed a laugh and waded back into the water, climbing back on the boat limberly. "No crocodiles in Thailand, Chief."

"Piranhas?" Blair called.

The boat hit the current and began to pick up speed.

Suddenly Blair was struck by the panicked thought that the big man had lied to him, and was abandoning him here on this muddy bank on this river whose name he didn't even know. "Jim?" He stepped forward, hands outstretched, just as Jim slipped over the side into the water.

Relief swept over him, leaving him dizzy and faint. He watched with worried eyes as Jim half swam, half waded to shore. Jim shook himself like a dog and picked up his black sweater. Pausing in the act of pulling it over his head he squinted quizzically at Blair.

"Okay, Chief?"

Wondering what was on his face, Blair contented himself with a nod.

When Jim was dressed Blair clutched his burden to himself and looked at him uncertainly.

"Where to?"

Jim squinted into the forest, and then up at the afternoon sky. "We go north," he pronounced. "Trying to keep to the middle of the peninsula. And our first priority is looking for viable shelter for the night."

"There are tigers up here, aren't there?" Blair asked as Jim strode along the bank looking for a easy trail into the forest.

"I think all the crocodiles and piranhas ate them Chief," Jim called back. Blair made a face at the broad back in front of him and swore he wouldn't ask another question.

He lasted an hour.

During that time the two  made good time through the thick forest, avoiding trailing vines and creepers where spiders and snakes lurked. It was cool in the wood, birds fluttered above them and out of the corner of his eye Blair spotted a gang of small monkeys sitting high in a tree and staring down at them.

"How long will it take us to find a village or something?" he asked when he couldn't stand to stay silent another minute.

"I was thinking more of a logging camp, or a plantation," Jim said over his shoulder. "I don't know much about the country here unfortunately." He turned a glance on Blair. "How about you, Chief?"

Flattered to be asked, Blair collected his thoughts. "You're sure we're on the peninsula?" At Jim's nod he frowned. "I remember my mom talking about a Buddhist monastery on the peninsula," he recalled. "And there are tin mines somewhere out here, um, but as far as I remember, all the logging is up north, near the border."

"Damn." Jim's quiet curse reached his ears, and Blair sighed. They were in deep shit.

Camp was a wide flat space between two buttress style roots. Jim slung the tarp over the space above them, and tied it down with Blair's rope. The blanket was beneath them, and Blair leaned gratefully on the faded red cushion while Jim laid some wood and leaves in a pile and started a fire.

"This is how to stack a fire to make it as smokeless as possible, Chief," he lectured absently as he worked.

Watching him, Blair was overcome with sadness. It was so hard to believe that this careful man, taking the time to show him how to build a fire correctly, could be a cold blooded assassin, working for the likes of Chen.

"Jim?" Blair said quietly.

Jim turned to face him, relaxing back onto the rug. "Yeah?"

"Will you tell me what happened? How we ended up here?"

Jim's eyes widened, and then he looked away, poking at the small fire.

"I thought you'd made up your mind about that, Chief?" he said quietly.

Blair shrugged. "It's been quite an interesting twenty-four hours, one way or another," he said thoughtfully. "I don't want to believe you're really mixed up with a creep like Chen, Jim. Will you tell me?"

Jim stared back at him over the flames. "I guess I owe you that much," he said finally.

000

"Up until seven months ago my life was right on track. I was a soldier, Special Ops. On a mission in Frankfurt... Well, the details don't matter. My entire team were killed in an explosion." Jim cast a look at the teenager sitting opposite him. The night was upon them now, and the flickering flames painted Blair's face with shadows and planes.

"It was a bomb, set to kill one man. It succeeded."

"But you survived," Blair said lowly.

"I was thrown clear." Jim rubbed at his eyes wearily. "I guess I'll never know why I was the one to survive when six good men died. I was injured though, and I spent two weeks in a coma. When I came out of it, the whole world had changed."

Blair tossed a handful of twigs on the fire and they flared, lighting up their meager camp with a brief flare.

"My senses had gone crazy on me. It comes and goes, sometimes worse than others, but the doctors couldn't find any medical basis for it. Finally I could tell by the way they looked at me, they thought I'd gone nuts."

"Your senses," Blair said slowly. "What do you mean by crazy?"

"I mean crazy." Jim shrugged. "Noises sounding like explosions in my head, seeing stuff that no one should have to see. And taste?" He huffed a bitter laugh. "Let's just say I'll never look at a sausage the same way again."

"But they're not crazy now," Blair said in a puzzled tone. "How did you get control of them?"

Jim barked a harsh laugh. "Control is the last thing I have, Chief. I spent months of my sick leave just burying the damn things, even now when they slip loose they're more trouble than they're worth."

Now it was Blair's turn to laugh. "Man, are you kidding? You have been using those things like a demon all day. Those senses got us out of Chen's prison, whether you realize it or not."

Jim shook his head stubbornly. "That's Special Ops training, Chief," he said firmly.

"Hearing things I couldn't hear," Blair said patiently. "What else did you do? How did you know the boat was there? Hell, how did you know the river was there? Come on, Jim, admit it."

"I don't want this crap happening to me," Jim said, wishing he could make the kid understand. He stared into the fire instead, tracing the red flames as they crackled and spat. "I always had good instincts. I-" He broke off, a flashback from the past washing over him.

A wood paneled room, a group of men talking, soldiers at attention, a truck approaching, what's that smell? Running outside, no! no, stop! Pain as the truck hit him, knocked him aside, and then heat, explosion, noise so loud...

"Jim?"

Jim came back to himself to feel Blair's hand on his shoulder, shaking hard.

"Jesus, what was that?" Blair's face was pale in the firelight.

Jim put out a hand and laid it over Blair's trying to be reassuring when his own fear was choking his throat.

"I'm sorry, Chief. It gets to me sometimes, the memory of that day."

"You scared me," Blair accused, but there was relief in his face as he sat back.

"I'm sorry," Jim repeated.

"You still haven't told me what this has to do with Chen," Blair said, and then comprehension lit his intelligent young face. "The explosion! It was an assassination!"

Jim nodded grimly. "Chen's specialty."

"So you're here undercover to catch him, like you said?"

"I'm here undercover, Chief. But officially I'm still on sick leave. In fact I have the feeling I'm only a few steps away from receiving an honorable discharge and a disability pension."

Blair gaped at him. "So, you did all this on your own? Infiltrating Chen's group, pretending to be an assassin?"

"I have friends, Chief, contacts. People who helped me set up the background I needed to fool Chen."

Blair's mouth was opening and closing in disbelief. "That's... that's crazy," he finally stuttered.

"It worked," Jim reminded him.

"Oh, yeah," Blair drawled. "Everything's going just peachy."

A quick flash of resentment ran over Jim's skin. "Hey, if you hadn't been there I would be back with Chen right now."

"Assassinating someone?" Blair returned sharply. "Passing his 'test'? How far were you willing to go to get close to Chen's boss?"

Jim looked away, ashamed to have his conscience pricked by this adolescent. "As far as it took," he said.

"I don't believe you," Blair said calmly.

Jim's gaze shot back to Blair's. "What?"

"You heard me," Blair repeated. "I don't believe you would have committed cold blooded murder to get in Chen's good books. I don't think you quite believe it either."

"I don't think you have any idea just what I'm capable of, Chief," Jim said coldly, trying to look as threatening as possible.

It seemed to work a little, Blair shrunk back into himself a little and when he spoke again his voice quavered. His words however rang with certainty.

"Bullshit," he said. "If you'd been that kind of man you'd have sacrificed my life back there, without a second thought. What the hell am I to you, anyway? Some street trash you picked up? Some stupid kid who stripped for strangers in a Bangkok gay bar?"

The self loathing in the boy's voice was more painful than his disgust or disbelief. Jim turned and wrapped an arm around the sturdy young shoulders, drawing Blair close to him in a comforting gesture.

"Don't talk about yourself like that, Blair," he muttered.

Blair buried his face in Jim's shirt front, and the older man cradled the back of his head carefully, carding his fingers through brown curls.

"You're not trash, and you're not stupid. You kept it together back there, and helped get us out of that mess."

The teen's shoulders were shaking, and Jim felt the muffled huff of breathing through the black wool pullover against his chest. Worried that the boy had dissolved into tears Jim gently tugged Blair's head back, and found himself staring into blue eyes lit by sweet laughter.

"What the hell?" Jim sputtered.

Blair shook his head and wiped one eye, still chuckling. "Big bad assassin, huh? Do whatever it takes, hmm? Pull the other one, Jim, it has bells on it."

Jim was torn between the urge to throttle the kid and hug him. He settled for pushing him away and gently cuffing the side of his head. "You little brat," he cursed without heat.

Blair let himself be pushed away, smiling amiably. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before."

"I'll bet," Jim grumbled, feeling as if he'd been caught in a lie, and not liking it over much. "I really would have done whatever it took," he said again.

"Within reason," Blair added.

Jim nodded. "I guess," he admitted.

"So let's not blame the kid any more for what happened, hmm? It was all over with Chen any way, right?"

"All right, Chief, don't get cocky," Jim warned. "I admit things weren't going as planned with Chen, all right?" Deadly intent lit Jim's soul and he softened his tone, staring back into the fire. "I will get another shot at Chen's boss, I swear it."

"And when you do?" Blair said, equally softly. "You're going to kill him, aren't you? That's why you didn't deny it before, when I asked you if you were an assassin."

"These people are above the law, Chief. Sometimes we do what we have to bring them down." Jim said the words easily, sure of them. But something in the dark blue eyes that studied him over the fire made him look away.

"I don't know much about the law, Jim," Blair admitted. "I know about people, and places, and sunrises. I know about love and fear and friends. And I think I'm starting to know you too."

Jim risked another look into those eyes, eyes surely too old for the boy who looked back at him.

"What will it do to you, to be the executioner above the law?"

Jim groped for an answer, but before he could even form the words, Blair was laying down, curling around the meager fire, head on the cushion, corner of the rug over his legs.

"You can share my pillow if you like," he offered sleepily.

Jim lay down automatically, curling around the other side of the fire and resting his head so that the crown just brushed Blair's wild tangle of curls.

"Sometimes the law doesn't work, Blair," he said softly.

"I told you I don't know much about the law," Jim," Blair said. "But why should you be the one to do this?"

"They were my men," Jim said thickly, memories of his friends dancing before his eyes. "I survived. I owe them."

Blair sighed, and a few moments later he snuffled in his sleep.

"I owe them," Jim repeated.

000

"Then you find a bendy twig, see? Something with give in it."

Blair watched closely as Jim stripped a twig from a tree and tugged the new leaves off it.

"A snare like this will get you a hare, or a bird, or maybe a lizard." Jim grinned at him over his shoulder. "A nice meaty one, hey, Chief?"

"I bet I've eaten more lizard than you have, Jim," Blair said calmly. "I am a student of the world, remember. I grew up eating pan-culture cuisine."

"Yeah, well in the army we're forced into survival training." Jim stood up and dusted his hands, studying the simple snare. "I've even eaten bugs in my time, but believe me, a roast chicken sounds a lot better to me now."

"The Great Wild Chickens of Thailand," Blair joked.

Jim slapped his shoulder. "Here's hoping."

Blair rubbed his empty belly ruefully. Despite his bragging he wasn't that fond of bugs either, but right now even that was starting to sound good. They had both risen early that morning, and packed their camp quietly. After a few hours of hungry walking however, neither of them had been able to hold onto their quiet mood.

Jim had spotted a likely looking area, and decided they had better catch something to eat before they both got too weak to walk.

"Nothing to forage," Blair reported, poking around in the bushes.

"It's not that kind of forest," Jim agreed, studying the dry trees around them. "Further down the peninsula it's more like jungle, I gather. I was thinking we might head out to the coast, but..."

"But?" Blair prompted, racking his brain for what he knew about this peninsula.

"But I also heard that a lot of Thailand's illegal drugs are grown out here. The coastal areas will be the busiest."

"But, Jim," Blair protested. "We can't just avoid people forever. Unless you're planning on walking all the way back to Bangkok?"

"Better that than running into a drug lord out here, Chief," Jim said soberly. "Those guys make Chen and his thugs look like boy scouts."

At the memory of the men who had held them captive Blair fell silent. Yesterdays terrors were still too close.

"Do you think they're still looking for us?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, yeah," Jim answered. "But I also think we've lost them."

"We're a long way from civilization though, aren't we?"

Jim looked him in the eye and nodded.

"Okay," Blair said, appreciating the honesty. "So, we walk, and live off the land."

"Just call me Tarzan," Jim joked.

"Guess that makes me Jane, huh?" Blair grinned, and then realised what he had said. He felt a flush crawling up his skin.

Jim reached over and tousled his hair. "I was thinking Cheetah, actually," he said cheerfully.

Blair looked up, finding Jim a lot closer than he'd though he was. That big hand was in his hair, and Jim's breath was cool against his cheekbone. Awareness coiled in Blair's belly, and for a moment he was sure he saw an answer to his feeling's in Jim's face.

A snap in the bushes alerted them and they both jumped to their feet. "One of the snares!"

A stringy hare was tugging fitfully at the rope around it's obviously broken back leg. Blair stopped dead.

"Oh, gross," he said, feeling his stomach turn over.

Jim avoided the hare's strong back leg and snapped its neck quickly. "Reset the snare, Chief, while I check the others," he ordered.

Blair looked at the grey furry corpse in Jim's hand and swallowed, hard.

"Do you remember how?" Jim asked gently.

"Um, yeah, I think so."

Jim disappeared and Blair reset the snare, quickly wiping away the clinging strands of dusty grey fur that clung to his fingers. He'd eaten rabbit before, he'd helped pluck chickens and clean fish. But seeing the animal in its desperate struggle for life, watching that struggle end with the snap of Jim's strong hands, was a little more real than he liked.

Buck up, Blair, he lectured himself. Unless you become a vegetarian like Naomi, you better get used to it. If you're going to be a carnivore, don't be a squeamish one.

Jim had his knife out when Blair met him again in the clearing.

"Okay, Chief?"

"No problem," Blair answered easily, coming and kneeling by the big man. "Show me what to do."

Jim looked down at the carcass and the knife, and then back up to Blair. "Right," he said, smiling. Then he bent over his work.

For a moment Blair didn't even see the bloody task. All he saw was the smile on Jim's face, how gentle it made him look, the way it made his eyes crease. That feeling was back in his belly again, and it wasn't squeamishness.

000

Blair gamely dealt with the second animal they trapped, a kind of ground bird they both decided looked enough like a chicken to make do. Fortunately it broke its own neck in the snare, so all Blair had to do was pluck and gut it.

The smells of the roasting meat had Jim's mouth watering as he desperately tried to come up with a plan to get them out of this mess. He was serious about not wanting to risk the coast, but his other choices were equally as frightening. They couldn't survive long on this diet, and they couldn't take the chance that any strangers out here would be criminals, or linked to Chen in some way.

Jim studied Blair's absorbed face as the young man fiddled with the laces on his old sand shoes. One had snapped and Blair was awkwardly tying as small a knot as he possibly could to preserve the lace. A brown curl drifted over one eye and Blair blew it back impatiently.

Curling his fingers, Jim manfully resisted the urge to reach out and tenderly tuck the wayward curl behind one shell like ear. He couldn't let this get out of hand, at all costs. Especially not now, when they were thrown together in this mess.

Blair looked up at him and smiled a little before bending back to his task. Right now, Blair was seeing this as a kind of adventure, and Jim was trying his hardest to keep his own cheerful face showing. They were in a lot more trouble than he wanted to let on.

"There." Blair stuffed his foot back into the shoe and tugged the lace tight. He tied it and straightened. "That smells great," he began, and then paused. "It's okay, Jim," he said quietly. "We're going to be okay."

Jim realised that the teenager was reassuring him, and he wondered briefly what his face had shown.

"Of course we will, Chief," he said, jabbing the tip of his knife into the juicy rabbit. "Want to give this a try? Any longer and I think it'll be too tough to chew."

Blair accepted a portion of the carcass Jim carved off for him, taking cautious little bites and juggling it from hand to hand.

"Tough, but delicious," he pronounced.

They ate in silence for a while.

"What next?" Blair asked, licking his fingers greedily as the juices escaped and ran down his hand.

Looking away from that busy tongue, Jim shrugged.

"I'm thinking we might have to head for the coast after all, Chief. Take a look see."

Blair stopped chewing. "But you said-?"

"I know what I said," Jim interrupted. "And I meant it. But with no food, and no more survival gear than this knife..." He hefted the weapon he had taken from Bo's prone body, and then pulled out his pistol, surveying it thoughtfully. "We can't used this because the sound will give away our position to anyone listening.

Blair looked down at his meat, chewing his last mouthful thoughtfully. "It could take us weeks to get to the city, and we can't live on this diet for that long," he said. "And although the days and nights are hot now, it could turn cooler anytime, at least at night."

"Right," Jim agreed. "If there are people on the coast we don't have to make contact with them. But we might be able to steal some transport. Even some supplies could make all the difference now."

"If this was a movie we would stumble on a deserted cabin full of tinned food," Blair joked.

"For a student of the world, you watch way too much TV, Chief," Jim joked.

Blair's gaze back at him was enigmatic. "You have no idea, Jim."

000

The trek west was hard going, and long before nightfall Blair's belly was rumbling again. Jim spotted some roots he recognized, and they barely paused to rub the dirt off before chowing down.

"Tastes like hickam," Blair mumbled.

Jim nodded agreement.

"I always hated hickam," Blair continued.

Huffing a laugh, Jim dusted his hands and they continued on their way.

Late afternoon saw them crouching in the trees at the edge of a long sweep of beach. Blair studied the white sand and blue water with delight.

"Can you believe this?" he asked Jim. "It looks like a tourist brochure. Where's the waiter with my Mai-Ti?"

"You're too young to drink," Jim returned. "And don't forget, some of the best tourist beaches in the world are just out there." He gestured to the blue ocean. "I figure Phuket is just a few miles that way."

"Is it worth swimming?" Blair joked weakly. So near and yet so far!

"Might be worth it for the sharks," Jim said, looking up and down the beach.

"Do you see anything?" Blair whispered.

"I see what you see, Chief," Jim said in an irritated tone. He pushed through the undergrowth onto the edge of the sand.

"Well, excuse me," Blair muttered, following. He collapsed onto the sand, enjoying the silky feel of it between his fingers.

Out in the open, Jim was scanning again. "We can't stay out here, Chief. It's too exposed. Anyone cruising off shore could spot us with binoculars."

Blair looked around in despair. The half moon beach was hemmed by rugged rocks on one side, that stretched out into the ocean menacingly. On the other side was a low cliff, orange sandstone gleaming in the afternoon light.

"Maybe we can find some shelter in the rocks?" he suggested.

"I'm thinking the same thing," Jim agreed. "Stay to the dry fringes of the sand, you'd be surprised how clearly footprints in wet sand show up from the air."

Blair stumbled tiredly after Jim, craning his neck up to peer into the endless blue sky.

"You don't really think Chen has an airplane out looking for us, do you?"

"I doubt it," Jim said over his shoulder. "But remember, Chief, he's not the only one we have to worry about out here."

"Yeah, right."

The rocks of the sandstone cliff were scattered more thickly on the beach as they approached, and the pair picked their way carefully through them. They bypassed some cozy looking nooks, as the sun began to set behind them in a spectacular display.

"Won't one of these do?" he finally asked, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. It wasn't easy.

"I just want to look up here," Jim said absently. "I think I spotted a cave."

"With your perfectly normal vision?" Blair muttered sarcastically.

Jim shot him a poisonous look, and over his shoulder Blair spotted what they were looking for.

"Is that it?" he pointed.

"Let's check it out," Jim said eagerly, clambering the last few feet.

It turned out to be more of an overhang than a cave, but it was sheltered and cool, with only a scattering of sand on the stone floor. Jim inspected it minutely, finally turning triumphantly.

"This will do," he pronounced.

Gratefully Blair tossed his burden down and collapsed onto the cushion. "Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a place to sleep," he grumbled.

"Don't get comfortable, Chief," Jim warned. "We need firewood before it gets too dark."

Blair groaned, resisting the temptation to curl up on the floor.

"Come on, Blair," Jim said firmly, one hand reaching out to help him up. "There's plenty of tangle wood down on the shore. We might even find a coconut or two, doesn't that sound good?"

"Don't patronize me," Blair muttered, feeling his tummy rumble.

"Maybe even a crab down by the rocks," Jim coaxed.

Blair moaned hungrily. "Okay, I'm coming."

000

They found more crabs than they could catch, and Jim stripped off his coat and carried the salty protesting creatures back to their cozy nook. Blair built the fire and they stacked the crabs in its center to roast. Jim stripped and punctured two green coconuts and they both greedily sucked the pristine juice from the nuts.

"That's more like it," Blair sighed, leaning back on his cushion. He cast a look at the fire where the crab shells were slowly cracking in the heat. He grimaced a little and Jim wondered if he could hear the whine of the dying crabs as the heat took them.

Jim grimaced himself. It wasn't pleasant, but they weren't camping here, this was survival. If it hadn't been dark they could have foraged more, the coast line was a bountiful contrast to the stark interior.

He cast a look at Blair's pensive face and shook his head. He didn't know how the kid would react to his latest decision, but he felt as if they didn't have a choice now.

"I think we should stay here for a few days, Chief," he said.

Blair quirked a curious brow at him, then looked around the cave. "I thought you were in a hurry to get back to the city?"

"We need food, Chief. We can build up our strength here and stock up. Maybe do some exploration up and down the coast, scope out the lay of the land."

"See if there's anyone else around," Blair agreed. "How long are you thinking of here, Jim?"

Jim shrugged. "As long as it takes," he said.

"And Chen?"

"Frankly, Chief, if I were Chen, and I had lost the two of us out here, I wouldn't waste too much time hunting. I'd just sit outside the city, and wait for us to wander in."

Blair sat up straight. "And you were thinking of mentioning this, when?" he asked sweetly.

Jim had to laugh at the sarcasm. "I only thought of it today, Chief," he defended. "I have had a few other things on my mind."

Blair frowned and then settled back down. "Like keeping us alive, yeah, I know," he admitted. "Hey, are those crabs cooked?"

They feasted, burning their fingers and tongues, tossing their trash into a ever growing pile by the fire. Finally they relaxed back, bellies full.

"Okay, that was worth the trip," Blair said, then burped richly. He looked so embarrassed that Jim lost it, chuckling merrily.

"Hey, stow it!" Blair ordered, pulling his battered cushion out and aiming a fair whack at Jim's head.

Cheered by the food and Blair's mood, Jim ducked and snatched the weapon, turning it on its master swiftly. Blair scrambled away and Jim followed, finally pinning him down and holding the cushion threateningly over his head.

"Say Uncle," he warned, and Blair squirmed beneath him giggling helplessly.

"Uncle," he gasped, and Jim immediately climbed off his legs, collapsing in laughter next to him.

"Gotcha, Chief," he snickered. He looked over at Blair, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight that greeted him. Blair's hair was tangled, one stray curl hanging over his brow. His eyes were warm, and fixed on Jim's own gaze.

Without a word Blair reached out and wrapped his arms around Jim, nuzzling into the curve where Jim's shoulder met his neck. "I love you," he whispered.

The words pierced Jim to his heart and soul, and he groaned, lifting his own arms and wrapping them around the young man.

"Blair," he said desperately. The body against his own was spreading warm delight throughout him, and Blair's lips were touching his throat, his moist breath scudding over the sensitive skin. "Blair, don't."

Tangling his fingers in umber curls, Jim tugged gently backwards. He found himself looking down into dazed blue eyes.

"Blair!"

"Hmm?" Blair said confusedly.

"Blair, we can't."

The teen's body was straining towards his, his forehead dropping to rest on Jim's chest. "Can't what?"

Jim's clutch firmed and he tugged Blair away from him as gently as possible. "Blair! Stop it!"

Blair straightened, a flush climbing his face. "Why?" he said solemnly. "What's wrong?"

Jim groped for words. "Where do I start, Chief?" He instantly regretted his tone when Blair pulled back, turning his face away. "Wait, I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Blair shrugged, but he turned a glance at Jim. "You don't want me?" he said shyly.

Jim groaned again. "So much, Blair, I want you so much." Jim didn't move.

"But?"

"But you're too young," Jim said, cutting right to the heart of the matter. "I'm twenty-seven years old, Blair. You're sixteen."

"And that's it?" Blair said incredulously. "My age?"

Jim sighed at the angry tone. "That's it, Chief," he said wearily.

Blair looked disbelieving for long moments, and then he too sighed. "That's it," he repeated.

"You understand, don't you?" Jim asked, curious about this stoic acceptance.

"No, not really," Blair said, wrapping his arms around himself. "I mean, if you thought I was ugly, or stupid, or you didn't go for guys, that would be something I could understand. But, just cos I'm younger than you?"

"Not younger, young," Jim said, trying to clarify. "Young, vulnerable." He groped for words.

"Well, that's crap," Blair said bluntly. He held up his hand. "Don't get me wrong, Jim, I'm not trying to change your mind. I'm not that committed to this."

"Blair," Jim said beseechingly, hating the almost bitter tone.

"You'll have to excuse me," Blair said snidely. "I'm just a kid, after all."

Jim's anger overflowed. "That's right, you are!" he said sharply, turning his back on the teen and laying down.

The only in sound in the cavern was the crackle of the fire and Jim's own breath in his ears. Then Blair heaved a sigh behind him.

"Shit," Blair mumbled. A handful of twigs hit the fire and the light around them flared a little higher, then died down again to a cozy flicker. "Shit," Blair repeated. "Just proved your point, didn't I."

Jim's quick anger died away, and he turned. "I'm sorry, Chief," he said sincerely. "I didn't say it to hurt your feelings."

Blair ran a hand over his face, rasping through the dark dusting of stubble on his chin. "I don't feel like a kid, Jim," he said softly. "I feel like I've been right by your side through this."

"You have," Jim assured him. "I've never had a better partner." Jim sat up, cross legged. "But look at it from my point of view, Chief. You lost your mom, you got dragged into my mess, and I've been your only friend through this. You're vulnerable. What kind of man would I be to take advantage of you?"

"But, Jim," Blair said, meeting Jim's eyes squarely across the fire. "None of that would matter if it felt right." Blair laid a hand over his breast. "In here. The way it does to me."

Jim lifted his hand and laid it over his own heart, feeling the ache there as a physical pain. "But it doesn't feel right, Blair," he whispered.

Blair stared across at him, shock on his face.

"I'm sorry, but it just doesn't feel right."

Blair opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. He swallowed, his Adam's apple rising and falling. "Okay," he finally rasped. He looked around the cave, as if there was something he had forgotten, something he had meant to do.

Jim longed to cross the space between them, to take him in his arms and comfort him. But he didn't trust himself to do that. Right now he didn't trust himself one bit.

"Goodnight, Chief," he said softly.

Blair lay down, his head resting on his red cushion. He didn't offer to share its softness this time.

"Goodnight, Jim."

000

Blair awoke with a full bladder, and he quietly rose and crept from their niche in the rocks to take care of the problem. After, he stood in a curve of the cliffs, looking out at the impossibly blue water below. He wished Jim could see into his head right now. Because he didn't feel young this morning, he felt impossibly old and sad.

For just a few moments he had held it all in his hands, the love he felt as if he had been seeking all his life. The perfect communication he'd felt with Jim, the love he knew the other man felt for him, it had all seemed so easy, so true.

Blair kicked at some sand lodged in the rocks, and then turned, seeking the small freshwater stream Jim had found the night before, tumbling down to the beach and then running into the sea. He knelt by the water and gratefully splashed some on his face.

Blair knew he had never really belonged among the people he had spent his life with. He had always felt like an observer in his own life, watching, learning, but never really being a part of it all. With Jim there was a bond unlike anything he had ever known. Struggling for survival by Jim's side, working with him, was like finally finding his place in the world.

But he thinks I'm too young, Blair thought, sitting back on his heels. When most of the time I've been with Naomi and her friends, I've felt like the only adult in the bunch. He huffed a little with laughter. Jim is judging me by every sixteen year old he's met, maybe even by himself at sixteen.

Standing, Blair wiped his hands on his jean clad thighs and looked up at the bright blue bow of sky above him.

But I'm not like any sixteen year old he's ever met, he thought. I'm not like anyone he's ever met, and I have to prove that to him.

With a new resolve, Blair began his chores for the morning.

000

When Jim awoke he was alone in the cave, and in a wild panicked moment he realised Blair was gone. He scrambled up and rushed to the edge of the overhang, thoughts racing through his head.

The crazy kid had his feelings hurt last night, and now he's run off, Jim thought, ouching under his breath as a bare tender sole found a rock in the sand. He's only a kid after all, and you were too damn hard on him last night, too blunt. Damnit-

"Hey, sleepy head," Blair called out cheerfully, and Jim skidded to a halt at the sight of Blair pushing through the bushes. His arms were piled high with a tangle of dry brush and branches.

"Hey," Jim said numbly.

"Wanna help me with this? I have a pile of firewood back there." Blair gestured over his shoulder with a nod.

"Uh, yeah," Jim said, taking the pile from Blair's hands.

Blair turned back, and then glanced back over his shoulder. "We going foraging after breakfast?" he asked lightly.

"Sure," Jim agreed. He watched as the graceful young man made his way back into the forest. Ruefully shaking his head, Jim headed back up to the cave, avoiding rocks under his bare feet. Why had he ever thought Blair would run away over this? He had said last night he wasn't that committed to it all. He probably made passes at guys all the time.

And most of them probably didn't turn him down, Jim thought, a feeling not unlike depression sinking into his chest.

Blair was behind him now, arms piled high, sturdy shoulder muscles bulging. His hair glinted with red gold highlights in the morning sun, and his blue eyes were alight with life.

"Okay, Jim?' he said, passing him and smiling cheerfully.

"Yeah," Jim said, following with his burden. I must have been nuts, he thought.

Later, after a breakfast of coconut flesh and milk, he began to regain his composure.

Blair's past life was part of the problem. The kid had been forced to grow up too soon, abandoned by his mother, stripping in some sleazy club. Just because he was mature didn't mean he was ready for the kind of emotions he was experiencing now. And it didn't mean someone like Jim should just come along and take advantage of that.

Resolving to keep things light between them, Jim went back to his explorations.

000

Jim and Blair spent the day scouting up and down the beach, finding little sign of either tin mines or drug smugglers. Occasionally they found rubbish washed up on the shore, which Jim speculated was trash from the tourist beaches just a few miles away across the sea.

They gathered rock oysters from the rocks which they ate raw, and Blair caught a huge fish in a shallow pool, just by sneaking up behind it and scooping it out of the water.

"Old tribal trick?" Jim joked.

"Grizzly bear trick," Blair clarified, wading out of the water. "Saw it on the Discovery Channel."

"How does a student of the world get to see so much TV?" Jim asked curiously, finishing the fish off and beginning to clean it.

"They do have TV's outside of the US, Jim," Blair revealed wryly, dropping to his butt in the sand and rolling his pants legs back down.

"I guess I just have this image of you living in communes, Chief. Wearing tie-dyed t-shirts and love beads."

"And you're saying I watch too much TV," Blair muttered. "Naomi and I have done a lot of traveling, but I have done my share of living like any other kid. Including way too much TV whenever I had the chance."

Jim hooked a thin stick through the thoroughly dead fishes gills and stood up. Blair clambered to his feet and followed him up the beach, automatically sticking to the rocks where possible and avoiding leaving tracks in the wet sand.

"What about you? What kind of background turned you out, GI Joe?"

Jim shrugged. "Nothing special. House in the 'burbs, mom, dad and brother."

"Sounds nice," Blair said wistfully.

"Which just goes to show you can't judge by appearances, Chief," he snorted.

000

They caught another big fish in the same pool on the way back to the cave, and Blair spent the rest of the trip trying to decide how to cook them. They finally decided on wrapping them in coconut leaves and baking them in hot rocks, and while they were cooking they decided to take a dip in the evening ocean.

"Tide's coming in, so it should wash away our foot prints," Jim judged, eagerly stripping down to his shorts.

Blair followed suit, running eagerly down the silky beach and splashing into the waves. "This is great!" he called, diving under a wave and bobbing back up. "It feels like silk!" Blair rejoiced. "Man, I needed a bath."

"Well, I didn't like to say anything, Chief," Jim said with mock solemnity.

Blair cut his hand across the surface of the water, creating a perfect slice of wave that smacked Jim in the chest. "Like you don't stink too, smart ass," he retorted cheekily.

"Ah, but with my super senses..." Jim said mournfully.

Blair laughed in delight. Jim was joking about something he hadn't even wanted to talk about a few days before. "I still say it couldn't have been worse than your corn-chip smell," he returned.

Jim sunk into the water in a threatening move, and with a yelp Blair splashed away, shrieking with laughter. Jim pursued, and Blair found himself losing his footing and falling under the waves. With a sputter he surfaced, pushing his wet, salty hair out of his eyes.

Jim had his head thrown back, white teeth gleaming as he laughed merrily. "Better wash that mop of yours while you're under, Chief," he grinned.

Blair decided he might as well act his age, so he presented Jim with his tongue and a one finger salute.

"Cheeky little brat," Jim said, turning on his back and floating lazily.

Blair rinsed some of the sand out of his hair, and followed Jim's example, turning on his back and floating lazily. The blue sky was pinkening along the horizon, a few white puffs of cloud scudding low across the golden edges when they finally dragged themselves out of the cooling water onto the sand. "Remind me that we're lost and on the run from bad guys," Blair sighed, flexing his fingers and toes in the wet sand.

"Don't let that vacation mood take over, Chief," Jim warned, enjoying the suns last rays on his body. "There's no transport to be found near here, and precious little transportable food to be found on the coast."

"But we could live off the land here for a while," Blair pointed out.

"Which isn't get us any closer to the city, or any help. We'll scout down the coast tomorrow, maybe we'll find something down there."

000

"What are they?" Blair asked curiously, as Jim split one of the bright pink fruits open. "No, I know!" he cried, glimpsing the yellow flesh and the distinctive smell. "They're a kind of paw paw."

Jim sliced off a chunk and touched his tongue too it. "Oh, yeah," he sighed, popping the chunk in his mouth and chewing blissfully. "Papaya."

"Cut some for me," Blair begged, pouncing on the generous slice Jim pared off for him. "They call them paw paw in the Pacific," he lectured, munching on the juicy fruit. "I've never seen this variety before."

Jim cut off another fruit from the laden branches and weighed it in his hand. "They're light," he said thoughtfully. "And hard, they don't look like they're gonna go bad anytime soon."

"They last for ages," Blair agreed, licking his lips. He looked from the fruit to Jim's thoughtful face. "You're thinking we could take some with us?"

"I think fresh fruit is a pretty good diet," Jim agreed. "Supplemented by whatever we can catch on the way."

"Traveling food," Blair said solemnly.

Jim nodded, his eyes far away for a moment. "I think so," he said. "Race back and get your coat, okay? I'll cut some of the best ones down, and we can carry it in your coat like a sling."

Blair didn't move. "Does this mean we'll be moving on?"

Jim reached up, turning the fruit around in his hands. "Tomorrow morning," he said absently, discarding a papaya that was black down one side.

Blair still didn't move. He watched as Jim's strong hand plucked carefully at the precious fruit. Jim turned and looked at him.

There was knowledge in the older man's eyes, Blair could see it plainly. Jim was as aware as he was of the emotions in the moment. This place, the almost-cave, the forest around it, had become their place, in a weird kind of way.

"Time to move on," Chief," Jim said gruffly.

Blair nodded, once, and returned to his task. Time to let go of his dreams.

000

They gathered the fruit, storing it carefully in the back of the cave where the air was coolest. The tide was coming in, and Blair begged a last swim in the surf.

They frolicked like dolphins, enjoying what might be their last swim for a while. Finally they floated on their backs, looking up into the bright blue sky.

"Jim?" Blair said, bumping one arm under the water.

Jim stiffened, moving unobtrusively away. "Yeah, Chief?"

Blair stifled a sigh. Does the man think I am just waiting for the chance to jump his bones? When did I change my name to Lolita?

"Yesterday when we were swimming, you were just joking about your senses, right? About being able to smell me?"

Jim shrugged, the water shifting in soft patterns about his broad shoulders. "I guess."

Blair turned over, sinking so his chin was submerged, watching Jim with curious eyes. "So you don't have a super sense of smell? To match the super hearing and sight?"

Jim sighed, opening his eyes and looking over at Blair in resignation. His lashes were spiky and wet against his flawless skin. "I guess I've had all five senses go nuts on me over the last few months, Chief."

Blair's breath caught with excitement. "I knew it," he said. "That's how you found the boat, right? Cos I knew you couldn't have seen or heard it."

"I smelled the oil," Jim confirmed.

"And taste?" Blair questioned excitedly. "And touch?"

"Like I said, they've all gone nuts on me. But I am getting control back," Jim affirmed.

"So, you admit you've been using them," Blair pounced.

Jim twisted his lips. "I can't really deny it now, can I? I have buried them for the most part though."

"But, Jim," Blair frowned. "Why would you want to? I mean, getting control, that's one thing. But to bury them? Isn't that a little extreme?"

"You have no idea what it's been like, Blair," Jim said, shaking his head slowly. "This is about survival for me. I don't want to be some kind of a freak, here. I just want to be like everyone else, okay?"

"But you're not like everyone else, Jim," Blair insisted. "You-"

"Let's just drop it," Jim said bluntly, rising from the water and splashing away.

Blair watched him go, admiring the water streaming off his strong shoulders, dragging his shorts down so that a hint of downy buttock was exposed. "Jim," he called, standing and following. "Come on, don't go."

Jim left the water and jogged up the beach, and Blair slowed, watching in disappointment as he approached the sandstone cliff. "Damn," he said under his breath, aware their quiet hours here together were nearly over.

Suddenly Jim was doubling over and falling back into the sand, clutching his foot.

"Jim?" Blair called, splashing out of the water. "Did you step on a rock?"

But Jim wasn't getting back up, he was leaning hard over his foot, his face twisted in a grimace of agony. Panicked breath sawed out of Blair's lungs as he pounded up the beach and skimmed to a stop next to his prone friend.

"Jim?" he said desperately, one hand cupping a broad shoulder. "What is it?"

"Something bit me," Jim choked, biting off a moan. "I think it was a spider."

Blair looked around at the forest debris littering the sand around them. "Did you recognize it?" he gasped out.

"I barely saw it," Jim said through gritted teeth. "God, it stings."

Blair crouched by Jim's foot and peered at the sole, drawing in a breath at the angry purple swelling. Looking close he could see a puncture mark by the heel. "Man, what a mess," he muttered. He looked up at Jim's drawn face. "What should I do, Jim?"

Jim's hands slackened and he leaned back, panting slightly. "I... I don't feel so good," he mumbled.

"God, Jim?" Blair said, taking Jim's shoulders in his hands. "Don't, don't." He didn't even know what he was begging for. Jim's eyes rolled back in his head and the big man lost consciousness.

"Jim?" Blair screamed, shaking Jim's shoulders hard. "Jim?"

Jim's head lolled back alarmingly, and Blair sat back on his heels, pressing his hands over his mouth to contain the scream that was forming.

"Okay, okay, get it together, Blair," he muttered into his palms. "Jim needs you now." Rubbing his face, Blair looked blankly around the shore. What was he supposed to do?

Jim shifted and moaned, and Blair bent over him. "It's okay, buddy," he said. "I'm here."

The swelling was apparent now, whatever poison was in Jim's blood was moving fast. Images from old movies rolled across Blair's mind. If this was snakebite you could suck the poison out, he thought hysterically.

"Draw it out," Blair muttered. "Cold and wet, raise the foot, keep the poison from pumping too far. Damnit, I don't know what I'm doing!"

Wishing he'd taken some First Aid courses in the few times Naomi had stopped anywhere long enough for him to attend regular school, Blair raced up to the cave, bringing down his cushion and their precious blanket. Jim had cracked one of the coconuts quite neatly on a hard rock that morning, and it made a convenient cup. Blair tucked Jim in, trying to make him comfortable, while he collected fresh water from the stream.

Blair soaked his t-shirt in the cool water too, wringing it out and wrapping it around the angry swelling on Jim's foot. Upon close examination it didn't look like the swelling was extending up his leg, on the contrary, it was confined to the one spot.

Blair remembered last summer when he and Naomi had been surfing with some friends in Australia. One of the guys had encountered a Box Jellyfish, called a stinger by the locals. The thing had wrapped around one ankle, and the young man had been screaming in agony, finally fainting from the pain.

The doctor had applied an anti-venin and the guy had recovered very quickly. He had passed out from the sheer pain and the doctor had said it wasn't unusual. The venom of the stinger attacked the nerves.

"There's no pain quite like nerve pain," the doctor had lectured.

Maybe Jim had passed out from the pain, and not because of the poison? Blair thought hopefully. The cold rag seemed to cool the throbbing swollen wound a little, but now Jim was getting warm and feverish.

Blair gently tapped his cheek, holding the coconut cup to his lips.

"Jim?" he said huskily. "Try to wake up, Jim."

Jim stirred, spiky eyelashes fluttering. "Goddamn," he swore, before he was even awake. "What the hell happened?"

Blair tenderly brushed sand from Jim's cheek. "You got bitten by something," he said, holding the cup out. "Take some water."

Jim blinked at the rough cup, but gamely leaned forward and swallowed a few drops. "The Gilligan's Island collection," he joked weakly.

Blair felt tears spring to his eyes. "Yeah," he agreed. "Only the best for you. Jim? How do you feel?"

Jim coughed a little and tried to sit up. Sweat broke out on his forehead, but he achieved a sitting position. "Damn," he swore weakly when he got a glimpse of his foot. "Damn thing got me good."

The sun was setting behind them, and a cool breeze blew in from the ocean, setting Blair's bare frame shaking. "I need to get you inside," he said desperately. "Do you think you can walk?"

Jim shook his head automatically, and then he sighed. "Guess I have no choice," he said. "I'll have to lean on you, Chief."

"Always," Blair swore.

The next few minutes were like a nightmare, as Jim strained every muscle in his strong young body to stay on his feet. Blair's shoulders ached from the big man's weight, and bruises sprang up on his skin from the bite of Jim's fingers as he swayed dangerously with each step.

They finally made it to the cave, and Blair helped Jim as the man fell to his knees and collapsed onto the folded tarp. Rushing back for the blanket and pillow, Blair made Jim comfortable once more, resoaking the t-shirt and wrapping it around the swelling.

"Blair," Jim wheezed.

"I'm here."

"I have a fever. We have no way of knowing how strong the spider's poison was."

Blair nodded.

"Try to keep me cool, Chief, and get some water down me. It's gonna be a long night."

Blair nodded again, but Jim's eyes were already closing.

000

The rush of the explosion was hitting him again, but this time the fire was biting at him, consuming his body, tearing at his hair, turning him into a living torch beneath its fierce force.

The fire receded to a dull roar of heat, trapping him in quiet and solitude. Everything was getting distant now, and the freakish senses that had caused him so much grief were fading beneath the wall of heat.

Somewhere someone was crying, the sound tugging on his heart strings, and Jim tried to struggle against the flames that hemmed him, holding him captive.

"Blair?' he tried to say, knowing without knowledge that it was his young love who was weeping.

"Don't leave me, Jim," Blair was sobbing. There was weight on Jim's chest, heavier than the weight of his own grief and guilt. "Not you too, not you too. I love you Jim, don't leave me like all the others. Please."

The faces of all the others paraded across Jim's tired mind. His mother, her high heels making sharp clicking sounds as they crossed the hall to the front door. Stevie, his face flushed and defiant, his eyes full of anger and pain. His father, his strong hands on his shoulders, his wild eyes spitting hatred. "Freak!" they said.

"No," Jim moaned.

And then the rain was pouring down, cooling his fiery skin, washing away his grief and guilt in a torrent of peace.

000

Jim's eyelids felt heavy as he forced them open. At first sight all he could see were the patterns of sunlight against the ceiling. No, not a ceiling, it was bare rock above him, red and seamed. In the distance the eternal wash of the ocean rang in his ears, and closer to home the gentle inhalation and exhalation of breath was a steady current of warmth against his skin.

Languorously, Jim turned his head on the cushion, smiling gently at the sight that greeted him. Blair was sharing his pillow, hair a stiff tangled mess, eyes sunk deep into their sockets with exhaustion. His mouth was open and he snored a little with each slightly sour morning breath.

He was so beautiful he took Jim's breath away.

Memory came back slowly, and Jim drifted with it, recalling the long passage of the night, Blair's constant ministrations, the heat of his fever and the amazing relief as the fever broke.

Jim lay for a long time watching Blair sleep as the suns patterns on the wall changed, and the sounds of the sea outside changed slightly with the incoming tide.

When Blair's lashes fluttered and he stirred to wakefulness they were staring into each others eyes.

"Jim." Blair's lips formed the word, but no sound emerged.

Jim had no words, he felt as if words were unnecessary between them, with all that had gone before. He was all sense now, all feeling. Instinct had him leaning forward, parting his lips, touching them to Blair's.

Blair gasped a breath into Jim's mouth, and his hands came up, clutching convulsively at Jim's bare shoulders. And then he was closing the distance, completing the kiss, pressing Jim's head back onto the cushion.

Jim moved with the kiss, tilting his head back and accepting the desperate kiss gratefully, drinking Blair's life and love from the young man's mouth. He met a seeking tongue tip with his own, tasting the essence of Blair, gentling the hard kiss, reaching up with his hands to do the same outside of their sealed lips.

His hands stroked Blair's skin, from sturdy young shoulders to the curve of his hip, smoothing away tremors of fear, communicating his own love and desire through the palms of his hands, understanding instinctively the new language of love they were inventing as they went along.

Before their lips parted, Blair had relaxed under his touch. With a sigh, he pulled back and rested his head on Jim's chest.

Long languorous moments passed, Jim's hands still stroking, Blair's tongue tip tracing salty patterns on Jim's breast.

"Blair?" Jim murmured huskily, surprised at the hoarse sound of his own voice. He cleared his throat. "Chief?"

"Hmm?" Blair returned, lifting his head and peering into Jim's eyes through half parted lashes.

"I really need to pee," Jim said in the same languid tones.

"Me too," Blair agreed. His perfect lips curved in a wry smile, and then his body began to shake with merry chuckles.

Jim huffed with laughter, feeling Blair rise and fall with the movement of his chest. The younger man suddenly pulled away, and scrambled to his knees.

"Let me help you," he said.

Jim sat up, groaning as weary muscles, cramped from the feverous night, protested. Blair crouched to help him, but Jim's hand on his arm stopped him, and he peered quizzically into Jim's eyes.

"Thanks, Chief," Jim said softly.

White teeth gleamed in the blue shaded jaw, and then Blair was helping him to his feet.

000

Some of the fruit picked for the journey was put to good use at breakfast, and Blair could see Jim's strength returning as he slowly chewed on the soft flesh. He carefully lifted the blanket away from Jim's feet and studied the red swollen area, wincing sympathetically as Jim groaned a little.

"How does it feel?"

"Sore as hell," Jim said, shifting his foot to a more comfortable position. "And I still feel weak and sick to my stomach. But I think I'm on the mend, Chief."

"Thank god," Blair swore, tucking the blanket carefully back around Jim. The older man bore his ministrations with stoic acceptance. "It could have been much worse," he continued. "God, it could have been some deadly poisonous creature! You could have died."

Jim patted Blair comfortably. "Believe me, Chief, I'm aware how close this one was."

Blair looked down at his hands, turning and capturing Jim's in his. "Is that why?" he said, going straight to the heart of his thought. "Is that why you changed your mind about me being too young?"

"I haven't changed my mind, Chief," Jim said carefully.

Blair gripped convulsively at Jim's hand. "What?"

"I still think you're too young to be making decisions like this. I still feel guilty about taking advantage of you."

All Blair's joy was draining away from him, along with the blood in his face. "You mean, you... What happened when you woke up, you regret it? You're taking it back?" Blair winced at the tone of his question, blinking at the tears rising in his eyes. "I mean-"

"Shh," Jim soothed, squeezing the hands in his own, drawing Blair close to him. "No, Blair, I'm not taking it back."

Blair shut his eyes, not wanting to get his hopes up again, only to have them dashed.

"Do you hear me, Chief? No regrets. No regrets, Blair."

Jim's earnest tone rang with sincerity, and Blair opened his eyes blearily, risking a look. Jim's face was just as sincere.

"But, you just said..."

"I said I still think you're too young, and I guess I do," Jim admitted. "But there's no changing your age Blair, only time will do that. My plan is to stick around until you catch up a little."

Blair quirked a brow. "I'm always gonna be a dozen years younger than you, Jim," he pointed out.

"Eleven years, please," Jim corrected. "And the difference between twenty and thirty-one doesn't sound as dramatic as the difference between sixteen and twenty seven."

"Doesn't sound as bad?" Blair queried. "Who are you worried about here, Jim? Let's face it, the fact that we are both guys is enough to make most people want to beat us to death in an alley somewhere. Do you really think those people will nod approvingly 'cause you decided to wait four years before making love with me?"

"I don't plan on waiting any longer than it takes for my foot to heal," Jim growled. "And stop arguing with me. I don't care what 'those people' think about anything. My objections were never about the law, Chief, or the moral majority. It was about me, and what felt right or wrong."

Melting a little at Jim's growled pronouncement, Blair tried to keep up his end of the argument, well aware that he had some very intelligent things to add, but not able to come up with any of them right now. Jim was alive and arguing with him, and that seemed to be all that was important right now.

"And how does it feel now, Jim?" he asked quietly. He freed one hand and laid it flat on Jim's chest, over his heart. "In here?"

Jim laid his hand over Blair's. "It feels right, Blair. So very right."

000

Jim dozed the afternoon away, after making some stern pronouncements. Blair was not to leave the area, was not to swim alone, was not to enter the jungle.

"Stick to the trees, and if you hear anything that sounds like a boat or a plane get undercover," Jim ordered.

"Yes, Jim," Blair said obediently. A wicked twinkle appeared in his eyes. "Don't get used to me taking orders, soldier boy. I'm only humoring you because you've been sick."

"And because we're in a dangerous situation," Jim coached, hiding his grin.

"Yes, Jim." With a wink Blair disappeared, and Jim could hear him scrambling down the cliff face. "Just humoring me," Jim huffed, laughing under his breath. "Better get used to it, old man."

Jim dozed, hands behind his head, enjoying the easy languor of his limbs, wincing now and again as his swollen foot twinged. It felt odd to be considering a future with Blair, hell, it felt odd to be considering a future with anyone. He had always been a lone wolf, never really clicking with anyone. Something had always set him apart from the people in his life, and somehow he had always felt it would be that way.

While people his own age married and had families, settling down into domesticity, Jim had only looked on, feeling like an observer. The dream of a home and family of his own had never really seemed like something that would happen to him.

And now this. A teenager for god's sake! What was it about this young man that got under his skin? Aside from the big blue eyes and the lucid skin and the touchable curls and that lithe young body.

Jim shifted uncomfortably, ouching a little at the pain in his swollen foot. His other swollen limb subsided a little under the onslaught of the pain, and Jim tried to relax. This was about so much more than Blair's beauty.

Closing his eyes, Jim cast his mind back to that moment, was it really only days before? When he had first set eyes on Blair. Young, vulnerable, beautiful, and yet even under all that, alive, fiery, courageous.

Blair denying he was a hustler, curls flicking as he pushed away his food and jumped to his feet, righteous indignation in every line.

Blair, terrified, but lying boldly to Chen, backing up Jim's story.

Blair, eyes narrowed with disbelief at Jim's abilities, but still trusting him enough to play his part. Over-riding his justifiable terror of Chen's thug to lure him into the trap.

Blair, tending his wounds, helping him, weeping over him.

Jim's eyes prickled.

When he opened them again, Blair was kneeling by the fire, laying a large branch across its stirring embers. Nights shadows were creeping across the cave.

Blair turned with a smile. "Hope you like crabs," he joked. His smile faded and he reached over, tracing Jim's cheek with his thumb. It came away damp. "Are you in pain?" he asked quietly.

Jim shook his head no.

Blair looked deeply into his eyes, and then with a small sigh he leaned his head on Jim's shoulder, shifting until he was laying against Jim's body.

"No regrets, right, Jim?" he murmured.

"No regrets," Jim agreed, lifting his hand and curving it tenderly around Blair's head. Gently he tilted the young man's chin with his thumb until they were once more gazing into each others eyes. "I love you, Blair."

"Love you," Blair mumbled, then he was pushing himself up, laying a kiss against Jim's lips.

Smiling under the sweet onslaught, Jim raised his other hand until he was cupping Blair's bare shoulders, drinking in Blair's kiss.

"Don't let me hurt you," Blair muttered.

Jim chuckled. "Shouldn't that be my line?"

"I meant your foot," Blair scolded, trying and failing to frown. "You're not taking me seriously," he accused.

Jim cuddled him close, tucking him under his chin, enjoying the tickle of curls against his skin. "Yes, I am, Chief," he corrected. "I'm just happy."

"Me too," Blair whispered. "But, don't you want me, Jim?"

The earnest whisper pierced Jim's soul, catching his breath, stirring the embers of his inner fire. "You know I do," he whispered back.

"Then why?" Blair beseeched, sitting up, pushing a curl out of his eyes. "Why won't you make love to me?"

"Blair, I'm still recovering," Jim reasoned. "And we're still in danger here."

"Uh huh," Blair nodded, eyes narrowed. "And?"

"And I just don't think this is the right time to be-"

"I knew it!" Blair interrupted. "You love me and you want me, but you won't make love with me because of your outmoded and misguided moralistic-"

"Don't put words into my mouth." Now it was Jim's turn to interrupt, which he did without heat. "I just don't think your first time should be on a cave floor with a man who hasn't seen a bath or a razor in days. Okay?"

Blair was blinking at him in surprise, and Jim felt an embarrassed tickle against his skin.

"Your first time with me, I mean," he amended.

"My first time with a man, you meant," Blair said thoughtfully. "It's okay, Jim," he continued. "It is my first time with a guy."

Jim beat down his primal inner man who was dancing and waving his club around. "I wasn't asking, Chief," he hastened to assure the young man. "It's none of my business."

"Sure it is," Blair shrugged. "After all, we don't have any rubbers here, and if I had been with one of those creeps from Mama's Place, you'd be nuts to have unprotected sex with me."

Jim struggled into a sitting position, not wanting to have this conversation on his back. "I wasn't even thinking of that," he defended. "You told me you never hustled, and I believe you."

Blair looked at him searchingly. He must have believed Jim, because his face softened a little. "Thank you," he nodded. "But it might not have been consensual. Stuff happened there..."

Jim felt his heart twist. He reached out and wrapped a gentle hand around Blair's wrist. "Scary stuff, Chief?" he asked softly.

Blair shrugged, eyes downcast, then he looked up with a wry grin. "Let's just say I'm glad I never have to go back there," he said.

"Me too," Jim agreed, tugging gently on Blair's wrist. The young man resisted.

"I have been with a woman, Jim," Blair revealed.

Jim sat back in surprise. "Really?"

"Really. A friend of my mom's, a couple of months ago."

Jim suppressed his anger that a friend of Blair's mother had seduced a fifteen year old boy. He was in love with a sixteen year old boy, he didn't have much of a position for righteous indignation here.

"How was it?" he asked, concerned and not a little curious.

"It was okay," Blair said noncommitedly. "I liked her, but there wasn't much emotion behind it, you know?"

"I know," Jim agreed gently. "It took me a few years to figure out the difference though."

Blair slanted him a knowing glance. "I think it's safe to say that you and I are nothing alike, Jim."

"I'm learning that," Jim said ruefully.

000

You will learn it, Jim, Blair thought to himself as he started dinner. If it takes me the next ten years to teach you.

The crabs were delicious, but the sameness of their fare was beginning to grate a little.

"You realize they pay top dollar for a meal like this back in the city," Jim said ruefully, sucking the last of the succulent meat from the crab claw.

"Maybe we should set up a business out here?" Blair suggested, tongue in cheek.

"I'm not sure the refrigerated trucks could survive the trip, Chief," Jim said, yawning wearily. "Man, I can't believe how much I've slept today."

"Your body knows what it needs," Blair said, tossing their scraps into a pile out of the way. "Do you need another pitstop before bed?"

Jim nodded, and started to lever himself to his feet. Blair was under his arm in a moment, and they stumbled to the side of the caves overhang, which was about as far as Jim could manage at the moment. Standing side by side they completed their business, and then Blair assisted his swaying companion back to his bed.

Jim's eyes were already drifting shut, and Blair bustled around for a moment, banking the fire and tidying up their meager possessions before coming to sit by Jim's side. Gazing down at the sleeping man, Blair felt the tenderness of love wash over him. Jim was the vulnerable one now, and there was a kind of heady joy in taking care of him, being his hands and his prop in his time of weakness.

Blair's tender smile faded as he recalled the nerve racking hours the night before. There had been no joy in his responsibility then, just a anguished terror that Jim's life was in his inexperienced hands. What if Jim had died? If the spider's poison had taken him?

A shiver crossed Blair's skin, despite the balmy warmth of the tropical night. He lay down next to Jim, tugging a corner of the blanket over his side, laying his head on Jim's shoulder.

The night around them was deep and dark when Blair awoke to the feel of sensitive fingers stroking the side of his face. His eyes accustomed themselves to the dark, but even with the moonlight streaming into the cave he could barely make out Jim's face so close to his own.

"Jim?' he whispered huskily.

Jim was smiling now, the flash of his white teeth clear in the dimness. "Blair?" he said. It was a question.

Anticipation lit Blair like a candle, and he felt his body flame into life. "Yes," he managed, trying not to sound too eager. "Yes, Jim. Yes."

He continued to gasp the word as Jim leaned over him, laying a kiss on the corner of his lips, then skimming his mouth to lay a kiss on the other side. His breath was stolen as the lips finally claimed his mouth in a deep kiss, but as soon as Jim's lips moved on to newer pastures the litany began again, breathless, wild.

"Yesyesyes," Blair chanted, twisting his head to touch his lips to any part of Jim he could reach, arching under that hot wet mouth, almost purring under the stroke of those strong, callused fingers.

Jim was sucking on the skin of his neck, tugging at strings inside Blair he didn't even know existed, tightening his nipples, swelling his cock into life. Arching, Blair groaned as Jim bucked his own hardness against him. Shifting positions instinctively, Blair cradled Jim between his thighs, aligning their cocks.

Now Jim was gasping, throwing his head back, his hips moving with their own rhythm, thrusting against Blair in a fierce and unthinking beat, throbbing, moaning, gasping, and still Blair's litany continued, rising to a crescendo as their passion mounted and peaked.

Completion was an explosion of raw pleasure, a liquid fire between them, a gradual gentling of limbs, a loosening of bruising fingers. Jim collapsed in Blair's embrace, gasping and panting, his breath a warm caress on Blair's passion prickled skin as it sawed in and out of his lungs.

"Yes, Jim," Blair murmured, sliding his hands over Jim's broad, sweat slicked shoulders, feeling his tenderness rise again in the aftermath. This was true vulnerability, not youth, not infirmity, but this trusting unguarded defenselessness in the issue of pleasure. And this was trust too, as Jim drifted to sleep in his arms.

Blair lay awoke as long as he could, holding onto Jim, playing the fever of memories over in his mind.

000

Jim woke up sticky and sore. His leg ached, and the evidence of their night's pleasure had dried uncomfortably onto his skin. His beard was an itchy prickle on his chin, and he was uncomfortably aware that Blair's stubble had left behind its own trail of scraped skin.

He felt great.

Blair was asleep in his arms, mouth open in its usual tiny snore, translucent eyelids flickering with approaching awareness. Feeling the heady freedom of the act, Jim allowed himself to lean forward and lay his lips on that tender spot, feeling the tickle of quivering lashes as Blair awoke.

"Hmm," the younger man hummed. He stretched languorously, mouth opening in a unguarded yawn, pink tongue curling like a cat's. Jim indulged himself shamelessly, gathering that pliant body against him and cuddling Blair with delight.

Blair's eyes opened and smiled into Jim's. "Guess I don't have to ask if you have any regrets this morning," he said happily.

"Guess not," Jim said gently. "You okay, Chief?"

Blair's eyes narrowed sensually with remembrance, and Jim felt the rising passion beneath him. With astonishment he realised just recalling the night before was setting Blair on fire.

"That answers that," Jim said ruefully. Blair undulated against him, the searching movement a caress, an invitation, a sweet promise. Minor discomforts forgotten, Jim surrendered nobly, laying back and letting Blair take the lead.

Lips mingled, and strong young hands smoothed down his body, stroking over firm chest and belly, rubbing pleasurably at the tangle of dried seed on Jim's pubic hair. Finally Blair found Jim's cock, wrapping his hand around its length.

"Blair," Jim moaned. "Yes, Blair."

000

Later, Blair helped him to the cave entrance, and for the first time in two days he looked out over the sandy shore and the slice of ocean visible from their home. The bright blue sky was dotted with a few high, white clouds, and the gentle ocean breeze stirred the ocean desultorily, sending a few frilly waves up the wild untamed beach.

Jim took a deep, grateful breath. His leg ached, but not unbearably.

"A few days rest and I'll be fine, Chief," he assured Blair.

"Yeah," Blair agreed. "Do you want to sit down?"

"I think I can manage a little further," Jim mused. He made it a few dozen paces before dropping to a rock to rest. He rubbed his leg ruefully.

"Don't push yourself too fast, Jim," Blair warned. "You were in a pretty bad state just two days ago."

"I feel fine, Chief," Jim said firmly. He glanced over his shoulder at a shallow rise behind the cliff face. "I want to walk up there, take a look around."

Blair studied the rough ground in disbelief. "Are you nuts? I've been up there, Jim, there's nothing to see."

"I can see a little further than you, Chief," Jim pointed out stubbornly.

Blair slanted him an assessing look, and Jim straightened self consciously. Then the younger man huffed out a resigned breath. "Okay, Jim," he agreed. "But we take our time."

Jim was glad to agree, and they spent the morning making their way up to the gentle rise of rough grass atop the cliff. The sun was high in the sky when they finally stumbled to the top, and Jim collapsed gratefully onto the flat surface.

Blair was panting as he sunk to his knees. "You stubborn SOB," he huffed. "What are you trying to prove?"

"I made it," Jim pointed out wearily. He lay back on the grass, enjoying the sun on his face, and the cooling breeze drying the sweat on his brow. Blair was saying something else, but Jim was letting himself drift on his tide of exhaustion, and he wasn't listening.

Jim dreamed he was a boy again, holding tightly to his mother's gloved hand as they walked to church. His ears were ringing with the mellow toll of the bells as they rang for Mass. Next thing he knew he was opening his eyes, back on the hillside dimly surprised that he'd drifted off to sleep at all. His dream came back to him and he blinked, wondering what that was about. Guilt? It was years since he'd attended church. His mom had been the religious one in the family, and after she was gone his dad had never really bothered.

Far in the distance there was another muffled knell and with a start of surprise Jim sat up, tilting his head curiously. Next to him Blair sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Jim?"

"Bells," Jim said.

"What?"

"Bells," Jim repeated excitedly. "I hear bells."

Blair frowned, obviously wondering if Jim had lost what was left of his marbles, and then his face cleared. "The monastery!" he exclaimed. "The Buddhist monastery Naomi told me about!"

"Buddhists have bells?" Jim queried, listening to the echoing knell keenly.

"Do they ever," Blair enthused, holding his hands apart widely. "Big mothers."

The sound died away, but not before Jim was pretty sure he knew what direction it was coming from. He pointed west, inland. "That way."

000

Their journey began two days later, when Jim pronounced himself ready to travel. Blair suppressed his own doubts, aware that they couldn't afford to delay any longer. Their restricted diet would soon take its toll on even their strong young bodies, and twice Jim had heard noise in the distance that he was sure was the sound of motor boat engines.

Early in the morning Jim stood braced against a sturdy staff Blair had found for him. Blair carried what food they had scrounged, wrapped in Jim's jacket and slung over his shoulder like a knap-sack.

The younger man looked over at Jim with worried eyes. He was leaning against his staff and squinting against the morning sun on the sea. Tired lines bracketed his smooth skin, and dark shadows were brushed beneath his eyes.

Jim noticed his stare and smiled gently. "It'll be okay, Chief. We'll take it slowly."

Blair nodded, and they set out.

000

Within an hour Jim knew he had made a huge mistake. His strength was already ebbing away, and his leg, which had seemed to be on the mend over the last few days, was throbbing badly. He tried to hide the worst of his struggles from Blair, but by noon when the younger man called a halt, Jim collapsed to his knees and then onto his side.

Dimly he was aware of Blair beside him calling his name anxiously, but for long moments he was unable to answer, fighting the black spots dancing in front of his eyes.

Finally they receded a little and Jim was able to open his eyes. Blair must have rolled him over onto his back, because above him he could see the noon sun shining through the thick tree tops.

"Jim," Blair was saying, his voice coloured with fear.

"It's okay, Chief," Jim managed. "I'm okay."

"Okay?" Blair's voice was incredulous. "This is crazy, Jim, we have to go back!"

Jim struggled up to his elbows, groaning with weariness as his bones seemed to creak. "There's no going back, Chief," he said seriously, meeting his lover's eyes. "You know that."

Blair's eyes were wide with fear. "Then we'll set up camp here," he said quickly. "I'll get some wood, make a fire-"

"Blair," Jim began, but Blair cut him off.

"We'll be fine," he said, looking at the rough brown scrub around them. "There's bound to be fresh water nearby-"

"Blair!" Jim said loudly, reaching out and grasping one flailing hand. "Please, Blair, you know what we have to do."

Now Blair met Jim's eyes fiercely. "No, Jim," he said firmly. "Don't say it."

"You have to leave me here," Jim said.

Blair pulled away, scrambling to his feet and striding away. "I told you not to say it!" he shouted. "I am not leaving you here, Jim."

Jim watched the young man as he paced, silent in the face of the fear filled anger.

"I mean, it's crazy," Blair was continuing. 'You talk like I can manage any of this on my own. I can't, Jim. I just can't!"

"Blair," Jim called softly. Blair stopped his pacing, hanging his head and gazing down at the dusty path. "Please, Blair."

Finally the young man shuffled over, crouching down next to Jim. "I can't," he whispered.

"Yes, you can," Jim said, reaching out and catching Blair's hand as it was extended towards him. "You've done everything you've had to do so far, Chief, you can do this."

Blair looked up at him, tears shimmering in his wide blue eyes. Jim's heart caught at the sight, but he steeled himself to go on.

"The monastery is only hours away, Blair."

"You don't know that," Blair interjected.

"To the east," Jim continued relentlessly. "And when you make it there you can get help. Get them to come back for me."

"But what if-?"

Jim silenced Blair with a finger on his lips. "Blair. We don't have a choice here. I can't make it any further."

Blair opened his mouth, arguments moving behind his eyes, but eventually he closed his mouth again, and resignation crossed his face.

"Come here," Jim said gruffly, drawing the young man into his arms. Gratefully, Blair collapsed against his chest, leaning his head on Jim's broad shoulder.

"I don't want to leave you," he whispered.

"I'll still be here when you get back," Jim said lowly. "I promise."

000

Blair told himself he wouldn't look back as he left Jim behind him, but as the trees swallowed him up he turned and glanced over his shoulder, feeling his heart ache anew at the sight of Jim sitting at the base of the tree. Their blanket and cushion was beneath him, and their pistol was tucked into his belt. Jim had insisted Blair keep the precious knife for defense, despite Blair's argument that he at least could run away if any danger presented itself. Jim didn't pay any attention, pressing the weapon on him

They didn't have anything resembling a compass, but Blair knew to keep the distant mountains to his right, so he wasn't worried about getting lost. His only fear was that he might miss the monastery, but even this was banished within a few hours, when he came upon the low stone walls.

Tingling with excitement, Blair crouched and examined the crumbling old stone, tracing with a wondering finger the designs carved deep into the rock. He recalled his mother telling him about the monastery, how it had once been a summer palace owned by the King of Siam. With renewed energy Blair jumped to his feet and hurried along as fast as he dared, following the traces of the ancient stone work where they jutted up from the forest floor.

Finally, as the sun was setting in the west, Blair heard the toll of the bells that had led them to this place. A huge white Buddha statue reared up out of the darkness, surrounded by flowers and smaller black statues. Behind the huge tree it squatted beneath, the bright blue sea glinted in the red gold light, and against the low mellow buildings Blair could see the filing monks in their distinctive saffron robes.

"Hey!" He called, seeing them start in surprise and turn. "I need help!" He hurried towards them, stumbling over his own feet in weariness. Hands reached out and supported him, and he resisted the urge to fall to his knees. Jim. Jim was still out there.

"I-" he clenched his teeth, trying to recall the Thai that had come so easily to him just days before. He'd picked the simplest form of the language up pretty quickly, but in his weariness and distress he was finding it difficult to grope for the right words.

"I need help. My friend and I were in an accident and he's still out there." Blair stared at the curious faces surrounding him.

"A friend?" one of the monks said.

"I'll get the Abbot," another one murmured, slipping away quietly.

"Come, sit down." An older man with a calm face lead Blair over to a stone seat, and with trembling legs the young man sat down. "Back to your duties," the monk said over his shoulder, and with a few last lingering glances the saffron clothed men trotted away.

"Please," Blair said, grasping the old man's arm. "It's getting really dark now, and I don't want to leave my friend out there-"

"You won't have to, young man," a voice behind him said in accented English, and Blair spun around to see another bald man in Buddhist robes, but this one had green eyes and pale freckled skin.

"I'm John Cianciosi," the man said in what Blair now recognized as an Australian accent. "Although here in Thailand I'm known as Venerable Ajahn Jagaro."

Blair gasped for a breath, too surprised by the man's appearance to do more than gape for a moment.

With an amused smile the Australian reached out and picked up one of Blair's hands, shaking the limp member. "Welcome to the International Forest Monastery. I'm the Abbot."

000

It was full dark when a dozing Jim heard their voices. Opening weary eyes he peered through the blackness around him, feeling hope flare in his heart as he made out the bright flickering gleam of flaming torches through the trees. Jim suppressed his first urge to yell, well aware that not everyone on this peninsula was a friend, but within moments he heard Blair's voice calling him.

Swallowing hard, Jim closed his eyes for a moment, relief sighing out of him in a breath. The night alone had been a lot darker than he remembered, the forest alive with sounds around him.

"Blair!" he called loudly. "I'm here!"

"This way," Blair was saying excitedly, and then the torches were emerging from the forest, carried by bald men in robes. Blair pushed past one and approached him at a run.

"Jim!" he said in a rush, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around the older man.

Jim gasped at the welcome touch of another human being, bringing up his hands and holding Blair's warm body close, trying to banish his unmanly fear of the night. The monks gathered around them, and Jim opened his eyes and looked up into the curious gazes, lit by the flickering torches. One nudged another, leaning over and muttering something into his ear.

Suddenly, horribly self conscious, Jim automatically tried to straighten, pushing Blair away from him.

Hands came out, helping him painfully to his feet, and avoiding Blair's face, Jim accepted the aid, allowing strong muscular arms to support him as they began the long painful journey to the monastery.

000

Still on his knees in the dirt Blair watched with disbelieving eyes as two of the monks handed their torches to the others and reached to support Jim. There was a burning pain on his upper arms were Jim had gripped him bruisingly, and then just as quickly thrust him away.

The night was swallowing Blair up behind them when one of the monks turned and glanced back at him.

"Are you all right?" he asked in concern.

Blinking away his tears, Blair climbed slowly to his feet, weariness eroding his bones.

"You must be exhausted," the monk said, holding out a kind hand.

000

Jim lay on his back in the narrow cell, squinting against the warm daylight spilling in through the wood lattice window. A well patched mosquito netting hung above him, diffusing the light and lending the room an opaque glow.

The bed was hard and narrow, but it felt good to Jim to lay on something other than the ground. The only other furniture in the room was a chipped wooden table next to the bed with a metal jug of water and a beaker on it.

A figure appeared in the open doorway, and Jim's heart leapt in his breast, until he made out the sheen of the saffron robes. Of course it wasn't Blair. He hadn't even seen Blair since last night, although he had heard him being settled in the cell next to his.

Briefly he had considered calling out to the young man, but in the end his cowardice had taken over, and he had laid back on his bed and let the monks help him bathe and eat.

"Mr. Ellison?" The man lifted the netting nimbly, folding it back with experienced hands.

"Jim, please, Abbot," the soldier replied, sitting up in the bed with a muffled groan. The throbbing ache had receded a little in the night, but the long limping journey here had taken its toll on his weary body.

"And I'm John," the Abbot returned easily, hands automatically coming out to prop the thin striped pillow behind Jim's back. "How are you feeling?"

Jim nodded and smiled. "Better, thank you. Blair and I heard the bells from the other coast, so we trekked across the peninsula for help. I never expected to meet anyone like yourself here, though."

John smiled back, his face serene. "I've been Abbot here since '95," he explained. "I was Abbot of the Forest Monastery in Western Australia before that. But how did you and Blair come to be out here? I didn't like to question the young man last night, he was so tired. And this morning he's made it his business to interrogate every novice here. He's a curious young fellow."

"We came from Bangkok," Jim explained, wondering how much he should tell this man. How likely was it that a Buddhist monk, and an Abbot no less, was involved with a villain like Chen? Still, why tell the truth when a good lie would do? "We... fell out with some people, so we thought it prudent to skip. We came down river on a boat."

"The Suwat River?" John raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, I think I can guess who you were running from."

The young man evaded Abbot Ajahn's eyes.

John chuckled and patted Jim's hand. "It's okay," he said gently. "I'm not here to interrogate you, Jim, or judge you either."

Jim met the man's eyes and relaxed at the truth he saw there. Non-judgmental support shone out from the round green orbs. "How can I help?" the Abbot said simply.

"I need to get Blair back to Bangkok," Jim returned. "But I'd rather not attract any undue attention, if possible."

John looked thoughtful. "Leave it with me," he promised. Crossing to the narrow latticed window he looked out into the sunlit morning and chuckled. "A curious young man indeed," he laughed, turning and looking at Jim. "Your friend is very earnest in his pursuit of knowledge," he observed.

Jim's throat constricted suddenly, trying to banish the memory of Blair's surprised face when he pushed him away the night before. Clenching his fists he tried to recall exactly what emotions had rushed through him at that moment, but all he could remember was that embarrassed rush of feeling when he looked up and saw curious eyes watching them hug.

"I'll leave you to rest a little longer," John said, and with a start Jim realised the older man had crossed the room and was now at the door. "Perhaps you'd like to join us for our midday meal? If you feel up to it."

"Thank you," Jim nodded. After the monk was gone Jim tried to focus on the sound of Blair's voice in the courtyard outside the window, but he couldn't seem to muster the concentration. For such a quiet place, the monastery seemed like a rush of sound, voices, foot steps, and swishing robes. Somewhere far away low pipe music was playing.

Closing his eyes Jim relaxed back against the pillow, raising his hands and rubbing his face, knowing he could not rub the guilt away. Again Blair's hurt face flashed behind his eyes, and he groaned lowly in his throat.

"Are you okay?"

Jim opened his eyes, blinking a few times. This time it was Blair standing in the doorway, but Jim hardly recognized the closed, strained look on his young face. "Jim?"

"I'm fine," Jim managed. Now he knew why he had this sad empty feeling inside him. It was because Blair wasn't by his side.

"Uh, I've been talking to some of the novices here. Did you know the boys come here as students? Most of them don't stay on to actually become monks."

"I didn't know that," Jim replied absently, saddened by the way Blair avoided his gaze, his hands twisting in front of him.

"Yeah, imagine learning meditation along with reading, writing and arithmetic."

"Blair?"

The teen crossed the room and stood where the Abbot had been just minutes before. "It's hard to believe yesterday we were lost in the wilderness and today we're in a center of cultural enlightenment." Blair gave an odd laugh. "There's some deeper lesson in that, but damned if I can figure it out."

"Blair, please look at me," Jim pleaded, not even sure what he wanted to say.

"No," Blair said softly. "No more words, Jim. You said it all last night."

"I was scared and sick last night. You can't judge what I really feel by that."

"What you felt, Jim, was written all over your face when you pushed me away!" Blair shot back, spinning around. "This whole time it's been me making the steps forward and you backing away, and I'm tired of it, okay? So you win. I don't make any more steps forward."

"That's not what I wanted," Jim protested. "Blair, I love you."

"I believe you," Blair said sadly. "But you don't want to, do you?"

Jim opened his mouth and then shut it again, unable to form an answer.

Blair closed his eyes for a moment, turning back to the window. His hands came up and gripped the wooden lattice hard. "That's what I figured," he whispered.

Unable to continue this conversation on his back, Jim pushed the thin cover away and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. With a heave he was on his feet, swaying unsteadily. Blair turned and saw him, crossing the room in a moment and wrapping an arm around Jim's back.

"Are you crazy, can't you even ask for help?"

"Help me," Jim whispered into Blair's hair, clutching him close. "Help me, Blair."

Blair was still and silent in his arms.

"I've never pretended I was comfortable being attracted to a teenager, Chief," Jim continued quietly. "But you stopped being 'a teenager' to me a long time ago. You became Blair. Just Blair. And I found myself falling in love with you."

"But, if you don't want to love me...?" Blair said thickly into Jim's neck. The soft puff of his breath against Jim's skin warmed the older man's heart.

"Forgive me for pushing you away, Blair, please," Jim said softly. "I don't even know why I did it."

Blair leaned back a little. "Don't you?"

Jim met his eyes, a little shame faced. "Yeah, I guess I do. I was embarrassed, Chief. Because I never needed anybody before. Because I've never faced curious eyes like that before. You can understand that, right?"

"I guess," Blair sighed. "But it's a big world out there, Jim, full of curious eyes. I don't think I can take you pushing me away every time you're uncomfortable."

Jim's throat was tight at the pain in Blair's voice. "I don't know what the future holds for us, Chief," he said honestly. "I know I want us to be together. But you understand that means we can't be open to those curious eyes, right? The whole gay issue aside, you're under age."

"That sucks," Blair retorted. "If I was a girl no one would care if we dated."

"If I dated a sixteen year old girl, I guarantee I would get some curious looks, Chief," Jim teased. "But I see your point, okay?"

"Okay," Blair conceded. "And I guess I see yours."

"Thanks," Jim said sincerely, laying his head on Blair's curls and sighing gratefully.

"Jim?"

"Hmm?"

"What are we going to do?"

Shaking his head dumbly, Jim was forced to admit that he didn't know.

000

Lunch was ladled out by a couple of smiling young novices, and they took their seats along the wooden benches.

"Jim, this is Bhikkhu, my friend," Blair said, introducing a young man with delightful brown eyes and a wide, shy smile. "Bhikkhu, this is Jim."

"Pleased to meet you," Jim said, nodding his head.

"You too," Bhikkhu murmured.

"Bhikkhu's from a village in Burma. He's going to go back as a teacher when his time here is up."

"How long will that be?" Jim asked politely, wielding his chopsticks nimbly.

"Perhaps another five years," the young man explained shyly. "But I will finish my education in the monastery in Bangkok." Bhikkhu smiled happily. "They have computers there!"

Blair grinned and poked through the food on his plate with his chopsticks. "Bhikkhu?" he leaned over and whispered quietly. "I thought Buddhists didn't eat meat." He skillfully picked up a chunk and examined it.

"We don't, as a rule," Bhikkhu said softly. "But if meat is part of the offerings given to us by the people, we can't turn it down."

"I see," Blair said, not sure he did see, but hoping to understand it some day. He felt great now, as a stark contrast to this morning, when he had been wandering around the monastery like a lost soul. It was almost frightening, the way just arguing with Jim could turn his life upside down. But this morning he hadn't seen their rift as just an argument. He had convinced himself that it was all over between them, for good.

Blair looked over at Jim carefully wielding his chopsticks, and smiled to himself. It was hard to believe looking at this big strong young man, with his firm jaw and wide shoulders, that just an hour before he had leaned against Blair and asked him for help. It was a new idea to Blair, that maybe he could help Jim emotionally as well as physically.

After all, Blair had figured, Jim was ten years older than him, surely he had all this relationship stuff figured out? It was like a revelation, being given a glimpse of Jim's inner uncertainty.

Jim could be afraid of his feelings and he could be embarrassed by being seen as weak. Jim could love him, but still falter on the path of that love.

Curiously, learning that Jim was human after all just made Blair love him all the more.

Perhaps, he mused, that's what love is all about?

They were about halfway through lunch when Blair spotted the Abbot making his way through the room, heading towards them. Nudging Jim with his shoulder, Blair gestured towards the grim look on John's face.

"Looks like trouble," he murmured.

John leaned over the table, hands flat on his surface. "Trouble is right," he confirmed. "And I think it's following you two."

Blair exchanged a worried glance with Jim, and then without prompting reached to help him up from the low bench. "What is it?"

John led them over to the door, speaking urgently in low tones. "How long have you two been running?"

Blair exchanged another glance with Jim, and the big man answered. "Less than a week. Why?"

"Because the man you're running from has evidently become impatient. There's a helicopter searching the coastlines, and men with guns on the ground."

"Damn," Jim said through clenched teeth. He looked down helplessly at his swollen foot and Blair followed his glance and his train of thought. He tightened his helping grip on Jim's waist, trying to convey more than just physical support.

"We're sorry to bring this trouble to your door, Abbot," Blair said sincerely.

"They wouldn't dare come in here," John said serenely. "But I do believe if we're to get you away safely any time soon, it had better be right now."

"But how?" Jim asked.

"The Suwat River is not far from here. We have a small motor punt that we use to ferry students to their villages and back. We can take you as far as Suvaco. From there you can rent a taxi to take you back to the city."

"That would be great," Blair said, suppressing his uneasiness. His first instinct was to hide, to go to ground in this serene place and let the troubles outside wash past him. But it would hardly be fair to invite more trouble on the monks.

"Do you have a safe place to go in Bangkok?" John was asking. "I have friends there I could refer you to."

Jim thrust out his hand and grasped the Abbot's warmly. "You've done more than enough for us already," he said gratefully. "And without even knowing who and what we are."

"Why, you're Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg," John smiled. "That's who you are. As to what? Well, I know what you're not, and you're not at all like the men who pursue you. I know whose side I've chosen, and I'm pretty sure it's the right one."

"Thank you," Jim said, obviously deeply touched.

"Yeah, thanks," Blair said, shaking the man's hand firmly.

000

Despite Jim's protests he was bundled in the back of a hand cart for the short journey to the river. He endured the ride, feeling as if he were a boy again, being tugged along behind his cousin Rucker in his little red wagon. He insisted on hobbling along on his own steam down the rough wooden jetty though, grudgingly accepting Blair's helping hand as the young man bounded ahead and leapt into the small boat with envious agility.

"You'll have to lay down in the bow," the monk in charge said. He was a sinewy brown fellow, with a shiny bald head and a spray of deep laugh lines next to his eyes. "I'll cover you with the tarpaulin, and no one will suspect you're there."

Jim caught Blair dubiously inspecting the shallow wooden bow. "Will we fit in there?" he said dubiously.

"Come on, Chief," Jim prompted, sitting down on the seat and gratefully sliding down onto the bottom. He would never admit it, but it felt great to be horizontal and get the weight off his foot. "It's close quarters, but I promise, I don't smell so bad."

Blair tweaked a grin at him, flicking a tight curl behind his ear. "So you say," he retorted cheekily. "But okay, I'm game."

He slid nimbly into place next to Jim, watching with wide eyes as the monk gathered the tarp.

"You're not claustrophobic, are you, Chief?" Jim said, the thought just occurring to him.

"We just spent days in a cave, Jim," Blair reminded him. "Um, excuse me, Munn, was it?"

The monk nodded and grinned, showing off his perfect white teeth.

"Uh, hi," Blair smiled back. "How long till we get to the town?"

"Two hours," Munn said. "I'll tell you when it's safe to have the tarp thrown back. Until then stay quiet, sound carries on the water, and we pass pretty close to some villages."

With that he laid the tarp over them, tucking in the edges.

"Okay, Chief?" Jim murmured, meeting wide blue eyes in the muffled dimness.

A hand groped for his and he caught it and held tight, unable to prevent his body from curling closer to Blair's. The younger man snuggled closer. "I'll be fine," Blair whispered in his ear. Then he deposited a soft kiss to Jim's cheek.

Huffing a laugh, Jim returned the soft salute, before settling down for a long ride.

000

After about an hour Munn muttered to them and lifted one end of the tarp, letting in a gentle breeze.

"Whew," Blair sighed as the cool air caressed his flushed skin. "What a way to travel."

"It beats walking, Chief," Jim said in sincere tones.

"I guess," Blair agreed, breathing in lungfuls of the welcome fresh air. At the prow Munn was standing behind the wheel steering the punt, and the around them tall forest trees met overhead, giving the afternoon light a dappled glow. "Jim?"

"Hmm?"

"What do we do when we get back to Bangkok?"

Jim said nothing for a long moment, only the throb of the engines and the shush of the water breaking the silence. "I was wondering when you were going to ask."

"What's going to happen? About Chen?"

"Nothing, Chief," Jim said sadly. "I have nothing I can use against him, and I can hardly go to my superiors and tell them what I was planning, now can I?"

"I guess," Blair said. This wasn't anything he hadn't thought up for himself. "Jim?" This question was harder. "Do you think my Mom will be back in Bangkok? Looking for me?"

Jim turned onto his side, reaching out and laying a gentle hand on his arm. Blair closed his eyes and swallowed at the comfort and love in that gesture. "I don't know, Chief."

"I do," Blair said softly. "She would never have just blown me off. Something must have happened to her." Jim squeezed his arm. "You don't know her, Jim, so I guess you only have my word for that."

"Your word's good enough for me, Chief," Jim said lowly.

Munn turned. "Another hour," he said apologetically, lifting the tarp back into place. Obediently the two men fell back into silence, bodies close in the thick warm air.

000

Suvaco was a collection of wooden buildings on stilts, with dirt roads where naked brown children chased hens, skipping over the occasional mud puddle. Munn directed them to a house with an ancient truck sitting in front of it, and they quickly negotiated a fee with the owner for a trip to Bangkok. Jim knew they were being ripped off, even without the wide happy grin the owner sported all the way to town, but he was too tired and worried to care.

If they should run into Chen or his men out here, all he had to protect Blair was the pistol and the knife.

Luck was with them, and before dark they were rattling their way into the city. "Do you know the Embassy?" Jim called. "The American Embassy?"

The driver scratched his head thoughtfully, before finally nodding and smiling.

Jim turned to Blair, and addressed him urgently. "There are going to be a lot of questions, Chief. Your best bet is to answer them as honestly as possible. Our two stories have to gel, or they'll know something is up."

"Could you get into trouble, Jim?" Blair asked, eyes anxious.

"Not if we tell the story right, Chief," Jim said carefully.

Blair's anxious look faded into a slight smile. "You have an edited version you want to share with me, Jim?" Blair invited.

Jim huffed a laugh. "You are way too clever for your own good, Chief," he said ruefully. "Remember I'm still an officer in the US Army, which means they'll call the MP's to come get me and take me away for questioning."

Blair's hands clutched at his. "You mean they'll arrest you?"

"No," Jim said, trying to convey comfort with his hands. "But we will be separated for a while."

Blair swallowed hard. "How long?" he whispered.

"I don't know."

Their heads close together, Jim outlined the story they would stick to, hands clinging together as the dusty truck rattled its way down the narrow streets.

Getting admitted to the embassy was easy, but explaining their circumstances was a little more difficult. As Jim predicted two soldiers appeared to take him into his charge, and he smiled reassuringly at Blair as he followed them. He ignored the pain in his own heart, but the pain in Blair's eyes was a little harder to walk away from.

000

"You certainly managed to get yourself into a world of trouble, didn't you, young man?"

"Yes, sir," Jim answered obediently.

The colonel flipped through a folder in front of him. "You have quite a record here. Impressive."

"Sir."

"Bad business in Frankfurt." The colonel's voice was sympathetic. "Losing your entire team must have been... hard."

Jim could only nod, his friends faces clear in his minds eye.

"But what in hell did you think you were doing with Chen, you damned fool?"

The booming voice made Jim wince, and he straightened, seeing how this interview was going to go.

"Sir?" he said quietly, needing to get his question in first.

"What?"

"May I make a phone call?"

The colonel stared at him in disbelief. "I beg your pardon? You're here with no identification papers, no passport, with some cock and bull story about being mixed up with one of Thailand's most notorious killers, and I'm expected to hand you a phone? I don't believe it."

"I want to call my father," Jim continued evenly. He looked directly at the colonel for the first time. "Please, sir."

The grey haired man stared him down for interminable moments. "Boy, you must have some king sized ones to face me down. But then again you must have had some king sized ones to pull this ridiculous stunt with Chen." Shaking his head the colonel heaved himself to his feet. "Make your call, boy. But don't expect to see your daddy anytime soon. You and I and your lawyer have a lot to discuss."

Jim was led to a corner with a telephone. The embassy operator was probably the most efficient in Thailand, and within minutes Jim could hear the soft burr of the phone ringing on the other side of the line.

"Please be home," he whispered, wondering why he was relying on the man who had let him down so many times before.

Because he didn't have any other options?

"Ellison." The voice down the line was echoing and tinny, but it was undoubtedly his father.

"Dad?" Jim said tentatively.

There was a long pause. "Jimmy?"

"Yeah, dad. I... I need help."

This time the silence was even longer, and Jim could feel his gut clenching anxiously by the time his father answered.

"Anything, Jimmy." His father's voice was still echoing and tinny, but it also rang with sincerity.

Tears sparked in Jim's eyes. Perhaps this was one time his old man wouldn't let him down.

000

Blair sat in a hard wooden chair, trying to concentrate on the old book in his hand. It should have been fascinating, full of color plates of Thailand back when it had been called Siam. There was one picture of the King on top of an elephant, leading a huge tiger hunt. The work was exquisite, the colours vibrant and alive, but all Blair could hear was Jim's voice, joking about tigers and piranhas.

The door opened and the embassy official came in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Blair," he said politely. He took a seat behind his desk and Blair closed the book with trembling fingers, laying it carefully on the edge of the wood.

"She's dead, isn't she?" he said softly.

The official looked up in surprise, arrested in the act of sliding on his glasses. "I have no idea," he blurted out. "I mean, we have no record of your mother even being missing, Blair, let alone turning up dead."

"Really?"

The official smiled gently. "Really. People do go walkabout in Thailand, Blair. There are borders they can cross over without even realising, little villages they can get lost in for as long as they like." He looked over his glasses at Blair. "If they want to get lost."

"My mother didn't abandon me," Blair said, sick of saying it, and wondering if he even believed it any more.

"People also disappear, I'm sorry to say. Your mother has been placed on our missing list, Blair. And, I hate to admit it, but there really isn't much more we can do."

Blair bowed his head. "I understand."

"Now, we have you to sort out."

"Me?" Blair said anxiously. "Can't I wait here? For J - Captain Ellison?"

"We don't have the facilities to house you here, Blair. In cases like yours it's our policy to repatriate you back to the States."

"But-" Blair swallowed his protest. How could he tell this man he had nowhere to go?

"I understand all the arrangements have been made." The official was peering down at his folder again.

"Arrangements?" Blair repeated dully, wondering what arrangements he meant. He was too old for foster homes, wasn't he?

The man looked up. "With Mr William Ellison."

"W... William?" Blair stuttered. The light dawned. "Jim's father?"

The man consulted his oracle again. "So it would seem." He looked up inquiringly. "Does that arrangement suit you, Blair?"

Blair felt a tingling warmth in his chest, somewhere around his heart. "Yeah," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. "It's fine."

Epilogue

Jim sat in his rental car, trying not to look too conspicuous. This wasn't the kind of street where people sat in parked cars at three in the afternoon. He cast a look up and down the road, noting the leafy old trees sweeping gracefully over the sidewalks, where carefully manicured lawns were even now being raked by gardeners in stained overalls. This was the neighborhood where he had grown up.

With just a turn of his head Jim was looking at his house, or at least the house that had once been his. Odd, that it didn't look as big to him as it once did.

Upstairs was the room he had shared with Steven until he started high school, and next to that was the room he had called his own throughout the next few years, the shelves covered with trophies and ribbons. In this house he had clattered up the stairs and slid down the banisters. He had hidden in closets and frowned over homework. And more times than he cared to recall he had knelt on the landing and listened numbly as his parents argued their way through their married life.

Out back was the swing he had pushed Stevie on, kicking his little legs and screaming with joy as he yelled for his big brother to push him higher. Next to that was the garage where they'd had their last, worst argument. Briefly Jim wondered if his dad still owned that damned car.

A gardener across the street cranked up a leaf blower and Jim was started back to the present. He looked blankly at the other gardener who was looking up from his raking, an envious look on his seamed old face. Jim shook his head, what was he doing? The past was dead and gone, worrying over it now wouldn't change anything. It was the present Jim was most concerned about as he sat here waiting for Blair to come home.

Somehow, when he was tapping his foot impatiently at Customs, and looking at his watch every five seconds while standing in line at the car rental booth, it had never occurred to him that Blair wouldn't be here, waiting for him. And it had certainly never occurred to him that he would have to lurk out here in that self same rental to wait for him. The reason was simple. He didn't have a key to the house.

A curtain twitched up the street and Jim resisted the urge to sink down in his seat. Maybe this house didn't count as his home any more, and maybe that had been okay with him for the last ten years, but no way was he going to slink around like a criminal.

Resisting the urge to look at his watch, Jim fiddled with the radio dials, switching channels until he finally gave up and flicked it back off with a savage twist. He had been so sure up to now. All the long empty weeks since he had seen Blair hadn't eroded his confidence in their love, why was this lonely wait doing it so effectively? And yet, as the seconds ticked by Jim found himself overwhelmed by fears and doubts. What if Blair had changed his mind? As strong as his feelings had seemed, had they lasted the uncertain test of time and separation?

And then there was the most terrifying thought of all. Blair was sixteen years old. Did Jim really have the right to expect his feelings to have stayed the same? Surely that was more pressure than this young man should have to face?

It was probably being back here, Jim thought, casting the house a poisonous glance. If ever there was a place that could erode his confidence it was here, the sight of a thousand stormy teenage days and sad childish nights.

And then a figure rounded the corner behind him. Jim's attention was captured by the image in the rear view mirror and he froze in place, numbly recognizing how the proverbial deer in headlights must feel. It was Blair, of course, but as out of place in this neighborhood as Jim himself now felt. His hair was longer, but he had it clubbed back ruthlessly, and when he swung his head to idly follow the flight of a bird, Jim could see the small tight pony tail sticking out.

He had a bright red scarf around his throat, and Jim realised he was probably feeling the cold here in Cascade, after years of warmer climes. A ragged backpack was slung over his shoulder, and he was wearing a bright coat in some plaid material. It was garish and loud and so totally 'Blair' that it bought a smile to Jim's heart. Torn jeans completed the ensemble, and pale flashes of Blair's legs flashed as he strode along, scuffing his worn gym boots along the pristine sidewalk.

All thoughts of his doubt vanished as he groped for the car's door handle. Now it was pure love guiding his movements, driven by his bone-deep desire to meet Blair's eyes, to read for himself what was written there.

Jim found himself on the pavement, although when he had climbed out of the car and stood up was a blank. "Blair," he whispered, way too softly for the young man to have heard, and yet Blair's head was coming up, and those eyes were focusing on him.

Those blue, blue eyes. Eyes filled with...

"Jim!" And then Jim couldn't make out the expression in his love's eyes, because for some reason his own eyes were misted. His arms came up of their own accord and Blair was covering the space between them as if his feet had wings. In a nightmare that space might extend hopelessly, keeping them forever apart, but this was no nightmare. It was the sweetest dream of all.

And then Blair was in his arms.

"Jim, Jim, Jim," Blair was chanting, his beloved voice familiar and yet strangely new to Jim's ears. "You're here." Blair's face was buried in his neck, and his arms were wrapped around Jim so tightly the bigger man was gasping for breath. "You're here."

"I'm home." Jim breathed.

Blair pulled back, looking over his shoulder, a trace of self consciousness in his expression. Feeling a twinge of regret Jim let him step back, although he couldn't find it within himself to let him go, retaining his grip on the young man's arms.

"Why are you out here?" Blair asked, eyes devouring Jim eagerly.

Jim shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. Right now it felt as if he couldn't stop smiling to save his life. "I don't have a key."

Blair patted his jacket. "I do," he invited.

And so Jim followed Blair up his own front walk, and waited while he unwound his scarf and fished out a key on a string. "Latch key kid," the young man quipped, winking over his shoulder.

"You look like you're right at home here," Jim said, watching as Blair tossed his backpack into the corner and tugged his scarf off.

"Your dad has been great," Blair said, and now Jim detected a trace of shyness in his voice. "He gave me money for clothes and books and, you know, just to have a few dollars in my pocket."

"I'm betting he didn't come with you to pick out your new clothes," Jim joked, reaching out and sliding a sensitive fingertip along the soft nap of the bright coat.

Blair looked up at Jim through his lashes. "With second hand clothes my dollar goes much further," he said, his voice a little breathless now.

Jim stroked along the sleeve, pressing a little harder, feeling the warm sinew beneath. "They suit you," he breathed.

Blair watched the caressing hand for a moment, before looking directly up into his eyes. "I missed you," he said simply.

"Me too," Jim admitted, drinking in the beloved face.

"And I was worried about you," Blair confessed. His hand came up and rested on Jim's. "Are you... Did they... Are you in trouble?"

"No, Chief," Jim said gently. "But I'm also not a soldier any more."

Blair blinked at him solemnly. "Because of me?" he whispered.

Jim couldn't resist, he leaned over and kissed the worry-creased forehead. "No, baby," he murmured. "This was coming a long time before we met, you know that."

"Because of your senses? But, Jim, you got your control back. Couldn't you prove that to them?"

Jim kissed Blair's forehead again, this time just for the taste of the silk smooth skin under his lips. "It's more than that, Chief," he admitted. "It was time for me to go."

"Because you can't be gay and be a soldier."

Jim shrugged.

Blair swallowed hard. "I don't ever want you to regret being with me, Jim."

Jim had to smile as he remembered his own fears of just minutes before. "No regrets, Chief, remember?"

Blair's worried look faded to a small smile. "I remember, Jim."

Their lips met then, in a short sweet kiss.

"Oh, baby," Jim breathed. "We have so much to talk about."

"Do we?" Blair asked softly, hands clutching Jim's jacket hungrily. "Do we really?"

They kissed again, a little longer, still just as sweet.

"Uh, I thought we did," Jim managed, only just noticing that Blair was towing him up the stairs. "Blair? Chief? What about Sally? My Dad?"

"I'll explain later," Blair said urgently, turning and pulling him the rest of the way upstairs.

Jim stopped him in the doorway. "This is where you sleep?" he asked, bemused. "Did you know, Chief, that this was my bedroom?"

"I knew," Blair admitted, pulling off his coat. "Every night I lay here thinking about you, dreaming about you, dreaming about me."

Blair was down to his t-shirt when he turned and began working on Jim's jacket. Still bemused, Jim let him, reaching up and stroking the wispy curls back from Blair's cheeks, then gently working the tie off his pony tail, freeing the tumbled brown locks. "You're every teenage fantasy I ever had, Chief," he murmured.

And then Jim found himself on his back, Blair's body covering his own. "Jesus, Jim," he groaned. Desperate kisses rained down on his eyes and mouth, strong young hands roamed over his chest.

Jim tilted his head and met Blair's seeking lips with his own. He submitted to the young man's intensity, understanding it, loving it. After a few moments Blair's desperation faded and he drew back, breathing hard.

"Jim, are you okay?" he was asking, and Jim opened his eyes to see Blair's worried blue ones peering down at him. A gentle thumb stroked his lower lip and Jim was made aware of the swollen tenderness there. "Did I hurt you?"

Jim shifted a little, stroking his hands up Blair's back. "It's okay, love. I've missed you too."

"I've been so worried, Jim," Blair confessed again. "Worried about you getting into trouble, worried that you might have changed your mind again."

Jim gently grasped a handful of curls and shook Blair's head a little. "I never changed my mind in the first place, Chief," he reminded him. His fingers turned to a caress in the springy curls. "Nothing could have kept me away from you." Drawing Blair's head down he again let their lips touch, but this time lightly, softly. Parting his lips a little he stroked his tongue gently over the bow of Blair's lip, drawing a groan from the young man.

Eyes half closed, Blair met that questing tongue tip with his own, tasting and allowing himself to be tasted. Jim rolled over and now Blair was beneath him on the bed, gazing up with passion clouded eyes.

"Those teenage fantasies I spoke of, Chief?" Jim murmured, carefully unbuttoning Blair's shirt. "No dream, no fantasy could match up to this reality." He spread the shirt wide and began on his own buttons, unable to help preening under the younger mans keen regard.

"You are my fantasy too, Jim," Blair breathed, hands coming up and stroking over his chest. "I love you so much."

Jim's heart swelled beneath Blair's fingers. "I love you too, Chief."

000

Much later Blair lay with his head on Jim's chest, again stroking his hands over the smooth skin. "I wanted to thank you, Jim," he murmured softly.

"Anytime, baby," Jim hummed.

Blair pinched Jim's skin a little.

"Ouch," Jim protested.

"I wasn't thanking you for that," Blair said severely.

"Then what?" Jim said, rubbing his chest ruefully.

"You know," Blair said, propping himself on his crossed arms on Jim's chest. He looked into Jim's eyes. "Thank you for arranging for me to come here to your Dad's house."

Jim rubbed his knuckles over Blair's cheekbone. "I couldn't stand to just walk away from you, Chief. How has it been here?"

"Great," Blair nodded. "Your Dad and Sally have been great. Although William couldn't hide his curiosity about where and how we met."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth," Blair said, eyes twinkling. Now it was Blair's turn to be pinched a little, and he yelped and squirmed sexily. "Okay okay, most of the truth. Jim?"

"Hm?"

"What happened between you two?"

"What did he tell you?"

"Not much," Blair sighed. "He gives away about as much as you do."

"It was no one thing really, Chief," Jim revealed. "A lifetime of misunderstandings and personality clashes."

"Do you think you two will ever make it up?"

"A while back I would have said no. But he came through for us when we needed him. I guess I can cut him some slack for that."

Blair laid his head back on Jim's chest. "I'm glad," he murmured.

Jim stroked his hand over Blair's head tenderly. "I'm sorry there wasn't any news about your mom, Chief," he said quietly.

Blair's hands tightened on Jim's arms and then relaxed. "I'm never going to see her again," he said sadly.

"You don't know that," Jim breathed, tightening his arms.

Blair remained silent and Jim tried to think of something reassuring to say, but he couldn't. He settled for laying a loving kiss on his young lover's brow.

000

They cooked together, Blair instructing Jim on Sally's classic buttermilk pancakes.

"I can't believe she gave you her secret recipe," Jim marveled, tasting the fluffy creation. "Mmm." He closed his eyes, savoring the taste on his tongue.

"You better be careful, Jim," Blair warned. "With those enhanced taste buds of yours, you're gonna get fat."

Jim piled his plate high and took a seat at the kitchen table. "No need to worry about the senses, Chief, I haven't had a problem with them since I left Thailand."

Blair paused in his skilful flipping, turning to look at Jim. "What do you mean? You mean they're gone?"

Jim shrugged, forking another mouthful of the delicious pancakes in is mouth. "Not really. They just seem to stay under most of the time now." He sighed and closed his eyes, appreciating the way the taste of the buttermilk filled him, the scent in his nose, the texture on is tongue.

Blair lifted the pan off the heat and came over to his side. "At least you're not suppressing them," he said thoughtfully. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," Jim said, licking his lips. "Beats the heck outta when they were overwhelming me."

"I think you learned control out there in the forest, Jim," Blair said wisely. "You were forced into using all your senses so we could survive. You didn't have time to worry about them, you just used them."

"Maybe," Jim agreed. "But they sure feel good when they're not driving me nuts."

Blair bought his plate over and sat opposite Jim. "I was thinking, maybe I could do some research over the University. Maybe someone has written something about people with enhanced senses. We could find the answers to all our questions there."

"Rainier?" Jim said curiously. "You've been to Rainier?"

Blair looked a little guilty for a moment. "I, uh, I was kind of bored," he admitted. "In fact, I was going crazy here waiting for you. Your dad suggested I could maybe take a few courses, you know, just sit in on them."

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's great, Chief," he said sincerely.

"Really?" Blair asked, looking at Jim searchingly. "They're just - courses. I'm not committed to them. I mean, if you have some other place in mind?"

Jim smiled. "No, Chief, I'm happy to hear you're settling down here. I was thinking I might take some courses myself, decide what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"Here in Cascade?" Blair asked, a smile breaking on his face.

"It's as good a place as any," Jim shrugged, unable to resist smiling back.

"Is it really all right, Jim?" Blair asked. "Leaving the army?"

"It really is," Jim assured him. "But I'm not prepared for civilian life, Chief. I haven't got a clue what I want to do now. Actually," he confided. "It's kind of exciting. First time in my life I don't have plans stretching for the next year or so."

Blair chewed his pancakes appreciatively. "I've spent my whole life like that," he joked. "I kind of like the idea of staying in one place for a while."

"Then we will," Jim said serenely.

Suddenly Blair jumped up and ran around the table, throwing his arms around Jim's neck and hugging him tight.

"What's that for?" Jim sputtered.

"I'm happy," Blair whispered. "I'll go get my course book, you can take a look and see if anything appeals to you, okay?"

Blair spun away, but as he reached the doorway Jim called for him.

"Blair!" he said, watching as Blair halted, turning and raising one eyebrow curiously.

"Yeah?"

Jim held out his arms and with a blinding grin Blair crossed the room, leaping into his embrace.

"I'm happy too, Chief."

Blair squeezed him tight and then raced from the room like a whirlwind, leaving Jim behind with a bemused smile on his face. He had a feeling he'd better get used to it.

The End.

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