Slave Of My Heart Blair nimbly dodged a steaming pile of dung on the road, not missing a beat in his lecture. "So you see Caelius, the school of Stoicism is much too rigid when it comes to-" he was interrupted as Caelius grabbed his arm and tugged him out of harms way. A group of boys, from six to sixteen roared by, brandishing sticks. "Really, Subura gets busier every day." Blair harrumphed grumpily, trying to straighten his toga. In Rome only a month, he still hadn't got used to the darn thing yet. "You should have just stuck to your tunic," Caelius chided as he draped the folds more evenly over his teachers shoulder. "To go to a trial where Cicero is orator?" Blair raised his downy brows playfully. "I wouldn't dare. You know what they say, Caelius, when in Rome..." "You should have a body guard at this time." Caelius fretted. "Rome just isn't safe for Egyptians since the head of the Egyptian delegation was murdered." Just then a cry from the nearby market reached their ears. A crowd jeered and an auctioneer strained his well trained voice to be heard over their cries. "A fine slave, a strong slave, no better body guard ever risked his life for a master!" The man boomed. "Ahh, what a coincidence." Caelius cried. "Logic tells us there's no such thing," Blair said jokingly, "But curiosity compels me to take a look..." "Teacher, no." Caelius made a grab for the smaller man's arm but Blair nimbly evaded him and entered the market. A crowd was huddled around an auctioneer's block, but no-one seemed to be in a mood to buy. The bidding was desultory, and the auctioneer was most unprofessionally letting his despair show through. His fee was a percentage of the sale price, and it was getting smaller and smaller. Next to the wizened little auctioneer stood the slave the crowd was jeering at and Blair felt the breath catch in his throat at first sight of him. The man was tall, although not as tall as first sight of him next to the little man suggested. There was no mistaking his broad brawny shoulders though, or the strong barrel chest that tapered to his flat tummy and narrow hips. Blair's mouth went dry. The auctioneer, spotting two new potential customers redoubled his efforts. "Strong and smart, citizens, but not too smart, you understand. Slave to the same master all his life, and body guard to him since he grew as brawny as you see now." "And where's the master now?" Someone jeered from the crowd and the auctioneer rolled his eyes, this was obviously ground he had covered earlier. "Died an old man in his bed as we all hope to do, citizens, in these troubled times." The crowd hissed again, obviously growing bored with these proceedings. "You're not thinking of buying this slave, teacher?" Caelius murmured anxiously in his ear. "I own no slaves." Blair said absently, studying the slave's face. He was calm enough, his expression giving nothing away, but his skin was pale and there was a look in his eyes as he risked a glance up at the jeering crowd. "What must it be like," Blair mused. "To be sold for the first time at his age." "Come, citizens." The auctioneer appealed. "It would be a shame if such loyal clever slave ended up in the mines." An almost imperceptible shiver ran over the slave's flesh at the auctioneers words, but Blair felt it clearly. In his travels he had seen the poor souls condemned to die in the mines. He wouldn't wish it on a dog. "He looks like a gladiator to me." A man called from the back of the crowd, and this prompted some loud boos. Since Spartacus had raged through Italy a few years before, peoples attitudes had become a lot less complacent towards the multitude of slaves that thronged around them. "My bid!" Blair held up a small purse and jingled it. "Silver coin, newly minted!" Caelius groaned but the auctioneer struggled to hide his delight. The slave risked a quick glance up to see who was bidding on him, and Blair felt the flick of his blue glance lick over him. "Citizen, you can do better than that, surely!" The auctioneer coaxed. "Teacher, I can lend you one of my father's slaves, if you decide you want a body guard now," Caelius said desperately. "To buy a strange slave off a street corner..." He finished in despair. "Yes, your father the senator would not approve." Blair teased. "Well, what's it to be auctioneer? Should I take up my friends offer, or?" he jingled the bag again. Within moments the deal was closed, and Blair was giving a scribe about a million details to make it legal. Romans didn't feel anything well done unless there were a shelf full of notarized scrolls to prove it. Blair watched the scribe stamp a seal on the last document and straightened up in satisfaction. "It's official," he pronounced. "What's your name?" He turned to the big slave standing quietly behind him. "Jim, master," the slave said softly. His voice was even and polite. "Jim. I am Blair, and I am a member of the Academy in Alexandria. This is my friend and student Caelius."Jim nodded and Caelius nodded back perfunctorily. "Teacher, we're going to miss the trial," he reminded. Blair tore his eyes away from Jim's bare chest and concentrated on his student. "You go on. I think I'll take my new purchase home with me." "But, teacher," Caelius protested. "Tonio is saving our seats! And Cicero is speaking!" "Yes, yes." Blair patted the younger man reassuringly. "I'm sure the defense will be speaking for days, and if I know Cicero, he'll save his words 'til last. No, you go on," he overrode when Caelius opened his mouth to object. "I will see you at home." With one last glance over his shoulder Caelius departed. "Ahh to be so young again," Blair sighed, with all the world weary cynicism of a 28 year old scholar. "Now, Jim. Have you a tunic around here? If I parade you through the streets of Rome with those shoulders bare, I might be accused of inciting a riot!" Jim shot his new master a startled look and nodded, picking up a once-white crumpled tunic from the ground behind the auctioneers block. He shook it and shrugged it over his head. Blair sighed as the taut pale skin was covered, but instantly felt more in control of himself. "New tunics I think," he mused. "In my household colors." He wrinkled his nose. "And a bath." Jim followed the teacher through the Subura to a huge building at the boundary of the district. It was a bath house, reputedly one of the best in Rome, the Senia. Blair paid their coins at the door, and no-one gave them a second look as they picked up some clean wash cloths from the shelf. "Ever been to a public bath, Jim?" Blair noted the slave looking discreetly around. "With my master, when he was entertaining." Jim followed his new masters lead and stripped off his tunic. "But my master was Greek, and generally preferred bathing at home." Blair stripped off his cincture and folded it neatly, tucking it into a nook especially provided for the patrons possessions. Naked, he stood facing his new acquisition, feeling Jim's curious eyes on him. "Well, I was born in Alexandria, which is almost as Roman as the Romans when it comes to their baths. If you ask me the only good thing about the Romans taking over the world is that they take the concept of baths with them." Blair chuckled as he saw a small smile flicker over Jim's face, before it was quickly suppressed. "Come, let's bathe." A slave attended each of them, oiling them down and then scraping away the grime and sweat of the day with a strigil. Jim seemed a little uncomfortable with another slave working on him, but he remained silent. His color had begun to improve, as the shock of his earlier experience wore off, but Blair sensed it would take a long time for him to relax. "So, your master was a Greek?" "Yes, master. A trader. He had a house on the Aventine." "Did he treat you well?" Blair purred under the scraping of his back. "Oh, yes. He..." "Go on." Blair prompted curiously. "He was more like a father than a master to me," Jim confessed quietly, eyes down. Blair nodded thoughtfully, that explained Jim's unscarred skin. Most slaves felt the lash at least once in their lives. Free from dirt and sweat the two made their way over to the first of the baths, the hot soak. They stepped gingerly in the steaming water and sat down, Jim hissing as the hot water nipped at his scrotum. "Takes some getting used to," Blair commented with a grin, relaxing up to his chin. "If you'll pardon me for saying so, your master might have shown his fatherly feelings by freeing you." "But he meant to!" Jim said forcefully. "Oh..." he subsided, looking nervous. "It's all right, Jim," Blair assured him mildly. "You can speak freely with me. He meant to?" After a look to assure himself his master was not teasing him, Jim continued. "He had a will, held by an old friend of his," Jim explained earnestly. "We were to be freed, all of us." "What happened?" "The master married late in life." Jim looked miserable. "She was...younger than him...""Ahh, it all becomes clear. He dies, and suddenly neither the will nor the dear old friend is what they seemed to be." "No." Jim agreed. "And even his death was a mystery. He was old, but not that old. And he wasn't sick, at least not that I could remember." "Did you share this suspicion with any one?" Blair inquired curiously, and then shrugged at the incredulous look Jim shot at him. "Well, of course you didn't." Roman law stated that testimony from a slave could only be extracted under torture. Roman slaves rarely came forward to volunteer evidence. "The first thing you learn as a slave is that there is no justice," Jim said sadly. "Not just as a slave, my friend." Blair assured him. Jim gazed at his master through the steam and then smiled again, longer and warmer this time. Blair felt his insides curl up. "Time for the cold dip I think!" The two dunked themselves in the cold water, oohing and ahhing as it shriveled their skin and closed their pores. Finally they relaxed in the third and final bath, a nice warm soak. Emboldened by his new master calling him my friend, Jim ventured to ask a question. "Master?" "Yes, Jim." "Why did you buy me? I heard you tell your friend you do not own any slaves." "Did you?" Blair raised his eyebrows, impressed. "What exceptional hearing you must have!" Jim blushed and nodded. "Well, I suppose I could say I bought you because I need a body guard, Rome is a dangerous place these days." "Because the Egyptian Dio was murdered." Jim nodded. Blair smiled his satisfaction. Jim was indeed a clever man, and one who kept his ear to the ground as well. "Is that why you bought me then, master?" "No, Jim." Blair stood up and let the water cascade off him, streaming down his body, flattening his chest hairs, dripping off his half hard cock. "I bought you because you are so beautiful." He stepped from the bath and accepted a drying cloth handed to him by a slave. Jim sat for a moment with his mouth gaping and then shut it quickly and followed after Blair. They dressed and Jim helped his master drape his toga, before following him out of the baths. "Clothes next." Blair announced. "Master?" Jim ventured again as they strolled down the busy street. "Yes, Jim." "Did you buy me as a pleasure slave then?" he asked anxiously. "Because, I'm not sure I would be a very good one." Blair stopped and stared at him. "No?" Jim blushed a little and shifted his feet nervously. "No. I've mostly worked. Moving goods for my master as a boy, loading and unloading. And then as his body guard when old Medo died." "And that makes you think you wouldn't be a good pleasure slave?" "Well, I'm not all perfumed and oiled like those boys usually are." Jim held out his hard callused hands. "And I'm too old!" Blair smiled a reassurance at the indignant tone and continued on his way. "Don't worry, Jim." he called back over his shoulder. "I didn't buy you as a pleasure slave." An old crone passing by heard this and cackled loudly. "I'll take him if you don't want him!" she called, pinching Jim's rear impudently as he passed. Blushing hotly, Jim didn't gather up nerve to speak again until he was being measured for a tunic. As the tailor turned away he hissed another question. "Then what did you buy me to do?" he asked desperately. Blair smiled and laid down the fabric swatch he had been fondling. "Lucky, Jim." He shook his head. "I bought you to free you." Jim was speechless all the way home. He carried Blair's parcels as the smaller man stopped to shop, and then followed him up the Aventine hill and down Fountain Court to an old building. Still speechless he followed up four flights of stairs to a dirty door that Blair pushed open to reveal a small sunny room with a balcony. Surveying Jim's unimpressed face Blair laughed aloud. "Not so impressed with your new master now, if you ever were. Don't worry, Jim, this is temporary. My home in Alexandria is a little nicer." Thinking of the low sandstone dwelling he called home Blair sighed and wandered out onto the verandah. From below the din of the Fountain Court was muffled, and one could hardly smell the rubbish in the alleys. Jim deposited the parcels on a bench and began unwrapping them. Without being asked he began to lay out the purchases on a platter for his master, stuffed vine leaves, honey cakes, fish in a mustard sauce, and a little pile of dates. "Master?" He crossed to the verandah and stepped out, holding the platter in front of him. Blair took it from him and laid it on an old crate doubling as a seat. He gestured to another opposite him. "Sit with me, Jim. Eat." Jim politely waited until his master was nibbling a portion before he helped himself. "Why would you buy me to free me?" Jim asked finally. "Do you believe in fate, Jim?" "Fate?" Jim screwed up his face at the unfamiliar word. "A philosophy that says a man's destiny is set, like the pattern woven into a rug. We are born, we live, we die. All set down somewhere." "Where?" Jim munched on a date. "Who knows. But it would seem to have been your fate for me to be taking the route I did today, with the student I was with today, with the coins I had in my purse today." "And if you hadn't done those things, or you had been inclined to pass me by..." Jim shuddered and put down the date he had just picked up. "Exactly. Fate. Let me tell you a story, Jim. Once there was an Roman named Petronius, who was a famous teacher in Alexandria. One day he was passing an auctioneers block in that city and for sale that day was a woman named Naomi, a foreign slave reputed to have difficult ways. He fell in love with her and bought her for a song, which was just as well because a song was about all the cash he had. He kept her as his slave for many years, until she fell pregnant with his son, and then he freed and married her." "You are his son?" Jim whispered. "You mother was a slave?" "Yes. You can imagine how that story impressed me as a child, and yet strangely, until today, I have never been drawn to auctioneers blocks. Fate at work." Jim thought about Blair's words for a long time, and munching on his vine leaves he watched as the meaning registered more clearly. "You say your father fell in love with your mother?" He said quietly. "At first sight." "And did you... I mean..." "At first sight." Blair repeated softly. "Ohh." Jim cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the room adjoining the main one. A low, wide bed dominated, covered with a red cloth. Jim swallowed hard. "Don't worry, Jim." Blair smiled gently. "I took your earlier words to heart. You do not wish to be my pleasure slave, and I would not want you unwilling. You are safe from me." Jim took a moment to survey his owners small compact body and compare it with his own muscular form, but he politely and wisely did not point out the absurdity of this remark. Besides, as a slave he was required to do his master's bidding, whatever it might be. The penalties for a slave who refused his master were harsh ones. "I didn't say I didn't want to be..." Jim broke off. "I just don't see why you would want me... like that." "Has no man wanted you like that?" Jim thought for a moment. "I don't think so." "And have you ever wanted a man like that?" Jim flushed a little and looked away, out over the view. "Not a man, but when I was a boy I had a friend named Eto. We would make a little love together now and then. It was... sweet." "It can be sweet," Blair murmured, touched by the longing in Jim's voice. "I could show you that, if you wanted it." "As your slave?" Jim asked curiously. "As my lover," Blair answered readily. "I would give you anything you asked of me, just because of your kindness to me." Jim began slowly. "You saved me from the mines, and that is worth anything you care to ask of me." "I don't want gratitude." Blair huffed a little. "I want you to want it too." "How will I know if I want it until you show me as you promised?" Jim posed reasonably. Blair glared for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "You missed your calling, Jim. You should have been an orator." He sobered a little. "So it would begin as gratitude and maybe become more?" "If that's what it's fated to be." Jim smiled and shrugged. Blair smiled back. "Then eat, Jim," He prompted. "You may need your strength for the coming night." Night fell gradually, and the streets below emptied out. Romans love their city, but do not traverse its ways by night for safety's sake. From the balcony the view of Rome was bathed in a golden glow as the last rays of the setting sun vanished. From the bedroom, a light flared as Blair set a flame to a scented lamp. The mystery of the darkness made the shabby little room cozy, the faded old red cloth seemed rare and exotic, the wide bed seemed wider and more tempting. Jim stood uncertainly by the bed, his hands gripping one another nervously. With a quiet murmur Blair went to him and gently touched his hands, stroking them until they relaxed. "Only if you want to," Blair whispered. As answer Jim stripped his new tunic over his head, and loosened his cincture. It dropped to the floor and he was suddenly naked. Blair drew in a startled breath and let it out in a sigh of pure pleasure. "Ohh, Jim. The first thing I noticed about you was your shoulders." Blair lifted a hand and stroked it over the pale unblemished skin. A wave of goosebumps marked it's path. "So strong and broad, gleaming in the sunlight." "They oiled me," Jim managed through a tight throat. "I know. They were clever to. It made you look like a statue up there, a god on a plinth." "No-one wanted me," Jim mumbled. "Only you." "Ahhh, that was fate taking my side," Blair reminded him, bending and laying his lips on the smooth shoulder. "Blinding those fools to your beauty." "You are the beautiful one," Jim choked out, raising a tentative hand to the cloud of his masters hair. "If you had been for sale no purse would have been large enough to buy you. The richest man in Rome would have wanted you." Blair smiled and tilted his head back to look up at Jim's flushed face." I've met the richest man in Rome, Jim, and believe me, Marcus Crassus wouldn't have me laid out on a platter. Now sit, big guy. I want to kiss you and I don't want to stand on a box to do it." Jim perched on the edge of the bed, but Blair pushed him back until he was sitting with his back against the wall, legs straight in front of him. When he was satisfied that Jim was right where he wanted him, Blair kneeled next to him and cupped his face in his hands, studying each individual feature carefully. "Blue eyes," he said softly. "Like the sky." He planted a kiss on each eye lid. "A good nose, Thracian I'd say, much too beautiful to be Roman." He laid a gentle kiss on its tip. "Lips too lovely for a man, inviting my kiss. Do you want it, Jim?" Skin still tingling from the gentle kisses Jim nodded, unconsciously parting his lips a little as his master lowered his head. The first pressing together of lips was tentative, and just as Jim daringly allowed his tongue to slip out to meet Blair's the smaller man pulled back. Opening eyes he didn't even realised he'd closed Jim blinked in disappointment. Blair grinned shakily and dropped another kiss on that Thracian nose." Slowly now, Jim. I'm challenged to make it sweet remember." "This is already sweet," Jim confessed. "It gets sweeter," Blair promised. "Will you lay down here beside me?" Obediently Jim stretched out on the bed, his hands loosely by his side, his legs parted a little. And there between his legs his rosy cock, half hard, half soft, nestled on the pouch of his balls. "Sweet indeed," Blair whispered, resisting the urge to dive straight for the prize. There was no doubt in his mind he could make Jim come, any half decent whore could do that. But to make it sweet, to make it memorable, that was the challenge. Tomorrow Blair would set the steps in motion to free Jim, for tonight his task was to make sure the big man chose to stay by his side once the choice was his. Jim's motive was gratitude, his own was more devious. But the pleasure, ahh that was real and true. And so was the love. The gentle kisses began again, strung out over Jim's body. Over a firm jaw down to the strong column of his neck. Scattered like jewels across the collarbone, and down, tongue burrowing into the curve of the armpit. Across the broad flat breast, to the first nipple, just beginning to unfurl shyly. Laving it gently with the tongue and then suckling it in the beginning of a purposeful rhythm. Jim's big hand lifted and sunk into Blair's dark curls, now no longer content to wait, it guided the busy mouth to the neglected nipple. Willing to be guided, Blair obediently latched onto the pink bud and immediately began to suckle strongly, again in a pulsing rhythm. Jim shifted beneath him and for the first time Blair felt his cock fully erect. Without breaking the rhythm of his suckle Blair reached down and grasped the mighty weapon firmly. Jim bucked up into the grasp and let out a low moan. Ohhh yes," he sighed. Lips curling Blair let Jim guide him back to his first nipple and he again took suckle, matching the rhythm of his stroking hand with the rhythm of his pulling mouth. In moments Jim was tensing beneath him and Blair graciously let him come, feeling the satisfying jerk of his own cock against the shaking man, feeling too the throb of orgasm through the thin skin of his pumping fist. Oohhh." Jim relaxed back onto the bed. Blair laid his head down on the broad chest, feeling the strong heartbeat begin to slow a little. The hand in his hair flexed lazily, tilting the small master's head up until he was peering through the dimness at his large slave. "Sweet," Jim mumbled, and then looked a little surprised by how incoherent it came out. Even his mouth was lax with pleasure. "Just the beginning." Blair shifted a little and his own hard cock stroked a fiery dampness down Jim's side. "If just the touch of my hand brings you off so quickly, imagine how it will feel to have my lips wrapped around your cock." Jim's eyes few open and he groaned. Beneath Blair's caressing fingers the half hard cock twitched with a life all its own. Blair threw back his head and laughed joyfully. "Not yet, my pretty," he teased, addressing the stiffening genitals. "There's something else I had in mind for big Jim tonight." Jim raised a curious eye brow. "Would you let me fuck you, Jim?" Blair whispered. Would this be too much to ask? Jim frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Yes," he finally answered. "Out of gratitude?" Blair whispered, not sure he wanted an answer. Jim raised his free hand and traced the light blue line of Blair's stubbled jaw. "We're beyond that now," he said simply. He ran a finger along the very edge of Blair's fluttering lashes. "Eyes as blue as the ocean I've never seen." He murmured gently. A finger traced Blair's nose. "A nose that I can't imagine would look as good on any face but this." Skimmed moist lips. "A mouth made for love I think. I don't have your poet words, master." "Blair," his master breathed, moist air stroking Jim's finger. "I don't have your poets words, Blair." Jim tasted his masters name like wine upon his tongue. "But I have a hunger growing in my belly that I think only you can fill." With gestures more eloquent than words Jim set Blair gently aside and then rolled gracefully over onto his belly, parting his legs wide. "Fuck me, Blair, please." Blair felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of his sails. Had he thought himself in love with this man before? Now the true meaning of love overwhelmed him and all his schemes and dreams fled him in dismay. Suddenly it no longer mattered if Jim chose tomorrow to walk away from him, if that was what he truly wanted. It would break Blair's heart, he knew that, but he would truly let this man go free, even if it meant he would never see him again. That was real love. "And you say you are not a poet." Blair whispered, a slow tear leaking from the corner of his eye. Blair reached out for the bottle of fragrant oil he kept for his daily visit to the barber to be shaved. It was Egyptian oil, heavy and sweet, perfect for what he had in mind. Gently stroking the muscular buttocks before him, Blair parted them and first anointed the tight dry bud with his kiss. He felt Jim murmur and stiffen beneath his hands as he laved the tiny hole with his tongue. "Blair..." Jim muttered, hands gripping the cover by his head. Parting the cheeks a little more Blair probed the tiny anus carefully, working just the tip of his tongue into the musky hole. All of a sudden Jim relaxed beneath him, and the tongue was through, poking in as far as it could reach, then gently withdrawing. "Gods." Jim was muttering under his breath, repeating it over and over again. He stretched his legs even further apart, making the tendons stand firm beneath the skin. Blair caressed them tenderly as he sat up, flicking his long curls over his shoulder. "One finger now," he murmured, dribbling a little oil into the wet crack. With one finger he worked the oil around the lax bud and then gently twisted it in. Jim tensed for a moment, and then relaxed, accepting as Blair's finger fucked his ass hole gently, pulling out to receive a dribble of oil and then pushing back in, well coated. "Now two fingers." Blair pulled out the first and married a second to it, gently but firmly pushing them back into the tight anus without breaking the rhythm. Again Jim tensed, again he relaxed. "Now the special spot." Blair muttered, and even as Jim was turning his head to ask what spot, Blair's crooked finger found it and Jim tensed in delight. "Blair! Gods!" Jim croaked loudly. "Ahhh, that feels good." Blair grinned in relief. Some men found little or no pleasure in this special spot, but Jim was obviously not one of those. In determination he introduced a third finger and widened Jim's asshole to the point it could take the width of Blair's cock. "My cock now," Blair whispered, his own words turning him on even harder. With his free hand Blair bundled up a pillow and raised Jim's hips, sliding it under him. He pulled his fingers from Jim's body and grasped firmly the top of each thigh, pulling Jim up and back on his lap. Then he took a hold of his bobbing cock and pressed the head gently to Jim's reddened hole. For what seemed like forever Blair pushed forward, watching dry mouthed as Jim's body accepted each and every inch of him. He did not stop until his balls were resting against Jim's balls and his lips were resting against Jim's shoulder. "Ohhh, Jim," Blair mumbled incoherently. Oh Blair, he thought to himself. Where are your poet words now? Jim needed no poetry. "Fuck me, Blair," he groaned hungrily. "Fuck me!" Blair obliged, setting up the rhythm his body had craved for hours, pulling out of the heaven his cock had found, and then back in deep, pumping himself up and down on the broad expanse of back. Jim groaned and slowly closed his thighs, tightening his hold on Blair's cock 'til the smaller man thought he would go mad with it. Now he was riding Jim, pumping into him, pressed all along his length. Suddenly with a cry Jim was coming, pulsing and pumping onto the red covers, tightening his ass as waves of pleasure swept him. It was Blair's undoing too, and a moment later he followed his slave into pure pleasure. Epilogue Sunrise on the Aventine was less spectacular than sunset, but no less beautiful as the golden light flooded a world already well awake in some places. Blair stretched awake and blinked sleepy eyes, catching sight of his lover standing nude on the balcony, gazing out over Rome. "Enjoying your first morning as a freed man?" Blair padded quietly up behind the big man and laid a hand on his back. "I can still hardly believe it." Jim looked down at the pale patch on his finger where his slave ring had rested until the day before when the final documents had been stamped and sealed. "Believe it." Blair laid his head on his lovers shoulder, nestling into the big brawny arms that held him close. "Now you have what most of us take for granted. The freedom to choose." Blair took a deep breath, finally ready to face what he hadn't had the heart to face the night before. "What do you choose, Jim?" "Once when my master had difficulties," Jim began slowly. "He went to a man called a Finder. People hired him to find things for them, to solve mysteries they couldn't. I always thought, if I was free, that would be a good thing to do." Blair felt unshed tears clogging his throat. The moment had come and he was not ready for it. For one selfish moment he wished he had never said he would free Jim, but the sight of his lover's dazed happiness bathed in Rome's golden light set him afire with shame at the unworthy thought. "It sounds like a good thing indeed," Blair managed. Jim turned and wrapped his arms around Blair, tilting back so that they faced one another squarely. "What do you think, Blair? Does Alexandria need a Finder?" Blair felt all his tension and pain explode out of him in a burst of joy." Yes!" he gasped, throwing his hands around his lover's neck and squeezing tightly. "Oh yes! Do you think that a Finder would like an assistant? One who knows Alexandria like the back of his hand?" "One who could guide me through that city?" Jim frowned thoughtfully, pretending to ponder it. "I suppose so," he conceded. Then he gave up his playacting and leaned over, kissing Blair hard. The End.
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