Never What it Seems

by LilyK

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"Sandburg! Ellison! I need you to roll ASAP." Simon clamped his cigar between his teeth and stood, hands on hips, in the center of the bullpen.

Jim stopped a few feet away from his boss as he walked across the room, nodding crisply. "Yes, sir!" He then gave Simon a jaunty salute, along with a cocky grin.

"Smart ass," Simon muttered intently eyeing Jim. "Sandburg, here's the call."

Blair took the proffered paper from his boss's fingers. "Sure, Simon. Come on, Jim. We have a job to do."

Jim raised an eyebrow, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Oh, really? Then lead on, my liege."

Blair laughed, but he gave Jim almost the same look that Simon had just a minute ago. "What is up with you today?"

Jim ruffled Blair's hair on the way to the elevator, earning him a swat on the arm. "Nothing. Why?"

"You're awfully chipper. You're cracking jokes and being generally... cheerful."

Giving Blair an exasperated look, Jim crossed his arms after punching the elevator's 'down' button. "So let me get this straight..." he said, putting a finger alongside his mouth while he feigned deep concentration. "You're always grousing at me for being too anal, too uptight, too straight-laced, too rigid-"

"Redundant, man."

"-too persnickety," Jim continued, not missing a beat, "so when I'm all happy and carefree, you look upon those actions with suspicion?"

Blair's eyes narrowed before he moved closer to his partner. "Breathe on me."

"What?" Jim said, jerking back an inch or two.

"Breathe on me. I want to see if you've been drinking. Or maybe it's something you ate," he added, his voice taking on a suspicious tone while his eyes narrowed. Sniffing loudly in Jim's direction, he asked, "How do you feel? Did you eat something that's somehow made you -- spacey? Maybe I need to take your temperature," he added, reaching out to touch Jim's forehead.

Jim laughed and after latching strong fingers onto Blair's hand as it came toward him, forestalling his partner's exam, he directed Blair into the open elevator. "Oh, I'm definitely high, Chief, and it's not from food or drink." Jim hit the garage level button, leaning over Blair's shoulder to do so. He paused with his chest lightly pressing against Blair's back. "It's from you. Last night was... Let's just say that was the most impressive thing I've ever done, or seen, in my entire life. Including on film, I might add."

Blair smiled widely, but it quickly faded. He waved the piece of paper he still held near Jim's face. "Thanks, but we have a dead person to think about, Jim."

Jim nodded, resting his chin on Blair's shoulder briefly. "Yes, I know, but you're alive and I'm alive, and because of that fact, we will find who dared kill a member of our tribe. Okay?" Turning and giving Jim a grateful look, Blair nodded. "And don't forget," Jim continued, "it's almost Christmas and we have that and a wedding to think about. I know, and you know that there are bad people out there killing and raping and stealing, but it's up to us to make sure Simon and Amy have a good start to their new lives together. It's important that we protect our -- souls, for lack of a better word, and that we take care of each other."

Blair's eyebrows hit his hairline. "You are definitely feeling good today, Ellison," he said with a laugh. "You're right. I know you're right. But... sometimes, it's just hard..."

"Chief," Jim said softly, "it's always hard when somebody's killed. That's why we do the best we can, to help right the wrongs. That sounds -- egotistical, but it's what we're best at, you and me. Together, we make a difference."

As the doors opened at the garage level, Blair hesitated for a moment, glancing into Jim's eyes. "How do you do that?" he asked before following Jim to the truck.

"What?" Jim asked, unlocking the driver's door, and climbing in. He reached over to unlocked Blair's door.

Blair climbed in also, and said, "Know just what to say."

"I'm good. What can I say?"

Laughing, Blair shook his head. "Love you, man."

"Me, too, partner. Me too."

----------------------------------

"What do we have, Dan?" Jim asked, gaze raking over the sheet-covered body. Near the victim's head, a wide circle of blood colored the white sheet in crimson. Blair stood next to Jim, also looking down. Jim heard him swallow and huff out a breath. He gave Blair a quick smile of reassurance, and was pleased to see his partner return his encouragement with a grateful nod.

"Jim. Blair," Dan acknowledged. "This is my new assistant, Derek Morelli. He just transferred in from The Big Apple. Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison, detectives with Major Crime."

"Nice to meet you, Derek," Blair said, holding out his hand.

Jim followed suit, giving the man a quick once-over. Another young one, he realized, suddenly feeling his age. Morelli was about thirty, tall, good-looking, and in great shape, he noted. Under his lab coat, Derek wore an expensive-looking suit, a silk tie, and sported imported Italian loafers, not to mention manicured nails. Jim thought it was a bit much for a forensics assistant, but who was he to question a guy's appearance. He spent enough time at the gym, so he knew what it was to want to look good to the outside world. With a curt nod, Jim shook Derek's hand. "Welcome to Cascade."

"Thanks," Derek responded. "Glad to be here."

"Go ahead, Dan," Jim encouraged after introductions were concluded.

"Hispanic male, age 22. Roberto Martinez. Single gunshot to the temple. Looks like a 9 mil."

"Gang related?" Blair asked.

Derek shrugged, adding, "Too soon to tell. We'll run the bullet through ballistics, of course."

When Jim hunkered down to pull back the sheet covering the body, Dan said, "I'm thinking car-jacking. Look here." Jim rose, and he and Blair followed Dan. "There are clear tire tracks in the dirt alongside the body, then they hit the pavement right here." The men hunkered down to look at the black rubber marks. "You can see that when the driver left the shoulder, he peeled rubber on the pavement, taking off." Dan walked along for several more yards before he pointed to another evidence marker. "This is where he shifted from first to second. It was a manual transmission; he left rubber here, which means he was really pounding the gearshift."

"Good catch, Dan. We'll keep that in mind. Do we know what kind of car the victim owned?" Blair asked.

Derek answered, "We're running him through the database right now. Dan said to put a CC on the request, so it will go directly to your email box, Detective Ellison. The rest we'll let you know after we do the postmortem and get the workup finished."

"Good work. Thanks," Jim said with a nod. "We'll catch up with you both at the lab. Come on, Chief."

"Nice meeting you, Derek," Blair added before following his partner.

Jim walked the perimeter of the scene, glancing around while he studied the surroundings.

"Anything?" Blair asked, standing off to one side with his hands in pockets.

"Not much. It's been raining quite a bit, so anything of value is long gone. We'll have more luck with the bullet, or when patrol finds the guy's car."

"If they find it."

Raising his head, Jim nodded, giving his partner a quick smile. "Right. Are you okay?"

Blair shrugged. "Yeah. It's nothing."

"What's nothing? You're suddenly all -- twitchy." Jim intently eyed Blair, scanning him lightly.

Again, Blair shrugged. "Just a feeling... You know."

With a sigh, Jim asked again, "What's wrong?"

Blair's eyes widened, and he held out his hands. "Really, Jim, I don't know. I felt a sudden chill and now it's gone."

"It's gone."

"Right. It's gone. Kind of like those feelings you had from Laura. You remember how it was an elusive thing. You noticed something, but then it was gone. And I do feel fine."

"You let me know if you feel it again, okay?" At Blair's nod, Jim added, "Let's go and run our victim through the database for a background check before we connect back up with Dan."

"And Derek."

"Yeah, and Morelli."

Blair laughed. "You have a thing about last names, don't you?"

Jim shrugged as he climbed into his truck. "It's a military thing."

"I know. I was just commenting. Besides, there are times when you say Sandburg just so, that makes me very -- let's say, interested."

Laughing, Jim started the engine and pulled away.

------------------------------

"Oh, man. Wow!"

Blair's exclamation, along with the breath he sucked in, brought Jim's head up sharply. "What?"

"Take a look. I ran the make and model of our victim's ride that the DMV provided to get the fair market value for the report."

Jim slid his chair over to stare at Blair's computer screen. "Yeah. Wow."

"That's almost sinful."

"Almost?" Jim asked, giving a wry chuckle.

"Yeah, man," Blair quipped. "I'd kill to have a ride like that."

Jim shook his head, tapping Blair's arm with his clenched hand. "Somebody did, Chief," he reminded his partner.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Bad choice of words. Sorry. Do people really own vehicles like this?" he asked, his eyes still glued to the computer screen. "It is impressive, though. Do you know what the retail value of that Mercedes SL65 is?"

"A hundred and thirty grand?"

Blair scrolled down the page and highlighted the figure noted on the bottom of the screen. "Close, man. Very close. About one-fifty, give or take."

"Well, damn."

"Yeah, I know," Blair said with a sigh as he scanned the pictures once again. "It's a beautiful vehicle."

"It sure is," Jim responded. He slid back to his own desk just as his email notifier pinged. "Shit," he muttered softly after a quick glance at the contents of the message.

"Now what?"

"Our victim, Martinez? He's the son of Enrique Martinez."

Blair paused for a moment, sucking in his lower lip, before he asked, "The current owner of the Jags?"

"Right. So it's possible that this was a simple carjacking after all. I doubt the son of Enrique Martinez needs to deal drugs or run with mobsters to be able to afford a car like that. Then again, you never know. What do you say we go and have a talk with Mr. Martinez?"

"Jim, man, you will remember to be polite. After all, his son is a victim."

Jim saw the concerned look on Blair's face. He smiled reassuringly at his partner. "I know, Sandburg. Thanks. You're always better at this emotional stuff than I am. I tend to -- avoid it if I can."

Blair returned his partner's smile with one of his own. "You're selling yourself short. I remember how Joel said you were with Jennifer Olsen when Dennis Chung was killed. And I've seen you work with my own eyes. You have this presence that is very reassuring."

Shrugging, Jim said, "I didn't do much. Just tried to be supportive."

"You did fine, Jim."

"Thanks, Chief. Let's do this."

-----------------------------------

Blair took the lead after Jim introduced himself and his partner to the bereaved father. They silently followed Martinez across the foyer of his large house and into the study where he waved them into the chairs in front of his desk. After Martinez sat down behind his desk, a place where Jim knew the man felt more in control, he nodded to Blair.

"Mr. Martinez, we're very sorry for your loss. Are you up for a few questions?"

Martinez nodded curtly, his head held stiffly. "Anything to find the monsters who killed my son."

"Good," Blair said sympathetically. "It will help the more information we have, and the sooner the better." He glanced at Jim, who gave him another encouraging nod. "When was the last time you saw your son?"

"Yesterday afternoon. We had lunch together to celebrate."

"Celebrate?"

"Yes, he graduated from Rainier with a degree in business last year and I promised him a new..." Martinez dropped his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. "Sorry," he murmured

"It's okay, sir," Blair said reassuringly. "Just tell us in your own time."

With a huff of breath, Martinez raised his head, looking from one man to the other as he spoke. "I promised Bobby that new car if he worked in the office for one year in a very junior position. I wanted him to know the business from the ground up. It's important..." With a sigh, Martinez paused to examine his fingernails. "He finished his year last week and I had given him the keys to the Mercedes..." Again, Martinez paused to gather himself in, but after a moment, he continued. "Then yesterday... I'd been busy last week with an IRS audit, and couldn't get away from the office until yesterday. We had a celebratory lunch at the club, and then Bobby went to pick up his girlfriend. They were going out on a date."

"So he never made it to -- his friend's house?"

"Gracelyn Anderson. That's my- was my son's girlfriend. No, he never made it. She called the house about an hour after he was supposed to show... Bobby was a stickler for punctuality. He even let me have it a couple of times when I was late for board meetings." Martinez smiled softly with remembrance before he shook his head and returned his focus to the detectives. "I'm sorry."

Jim finally spoke. "From what we can tell, he's never been in trouble."

Martinez shook his head. "He's a good kid. He came home drunk once, but he was so sick the next day, that was the extent of his foray into alcohol. And he disliked drugs after his mother... She was in rehab a couple of times before she kicked the prescriptions. He saw what it did to a family." Martinez leaned forward, grief and anger etched on his face. "He was a good boy, looking forward to maybe marrying this gal and having a family... Now..." Martinez's control fell, and he covered his face with his hands.

Blair rose, as did Jim. "Thank you, Mr. Martinez. We'll let you know if we have any further questions, and we'll see ourselves out," Blair said.

Martinez waved a hand toward the door. "If you don't mind..."

Jim answered firmly, "We'll find who did this to your son." As they left the room, Jim heard the man's soft whisper of thanks.

-------------------------------

"I think he's on the up and up," Blair said on the ride back to the station.

"Yeah, me too. I think the kid was a target because of the black market value of that vehicle, and not because of anything he did." Jim chewed his cheek. "It sucks."

Blair laughed. "I'm rubbing off on you."

At Blair's light laughter and comment, Jim realized what he'd said. He let out a small bark of laughter. "You can rub off on me anytime, Chief." The cell phone in Jim's coat pocket started to vibrate, so he took one hand of the steering wheel to fish it out.

Blair held out his hand. "Give that to me," he ordered. "No talking on cell phones while driving. New departmental safety policy." Jim gave Blair a quick exasperated glance before he handed it over. "We'll get you a hand's free connection from Radio Shack later." Hitting the 'on' button, he answered, "Ellison and Sandburg."

"This is your main man!" came the loud voice.

Blair grimaced as held the phone away from his ear before he moved it closer to ask, "Sneaks?"

Jim let out a snort, which earned him a narrow-eyed glare from his partner. Guess he still hadn't forgiven Jim for losing those Nikes a few years ago. When Jim glanced down at Blair's shoes, Blair gave him the finger. Laughing, Jim knew that Blair had never worn his favorite footwear to work since that day, and today, he wore his old, ratty Converse tennis shoes.

"You want a doughnut?"

Blair wrinkled his nose, making Jim grin. "Putz," he whispered, his hand momentarily covering the speaker. "Yeah, Sneaks. Thirty minutes? Same place?"

"Yeah. Same bat time, same bat channel! It's a date!"

Blair disconnected and slipped Jim's phone back into his pocket. "That was Sneaks."

Laughing, Jim turned the corner down Elmora and headed toward their usual meeting place. "He must have info. That was quick. Word must be already out about a new chop shop or somebody setting up a midnight auto supply outlet."

"He must want new sneakers," Blair said with a smirk. "I'm glad I'm wearing my tennies today. You're going to have to cough up an extra twenty."

Jim snickered at first, then he grimaced when he realized that he would have to fork over the extra cash for their snitch's info. "So much for this partnership," he muttered.

"All is fair in love and snitches. Oh, by the way, Jim, we have to run over to Rise 'n Shine in the next few days to help Megan with the final choices. We need to find an hour when we're all free and can meet up. Before Friday, or we'll be serving Hostess cupcakes at the reception."

"Tell me again why we're doing this, and why Simon and Amy aren't?"

Blair sighed dramatically. "You know exactly why, Jim. After Simon and Amy said they were going to elope, you, Megan and I decided that giving them a small, informal wedding would be our gift to them. They agreed. Besides, Simon has absolutely no idea how to plan a wedding -- you remember what happened when he took over the annual PD picnic that year?" Blair shivered theatrically before he continued. "And Amy's new position as head nurse of Intensive Care is extremely hectic. Megan said Amy told her she really wanted a wedding since this is her first trip down the aisle, but she admitted that she plain didn't have the time to plan one. Not with her parents being dead, and no other family members to pitch in. So we volunteered. Besides, she wants to enjoy her special day-"

"Sandburg, we are so under-qualified in this department, it's not even funny."

"Jim, they're friends. Special friends. And Megan has been researching wedding stuff for months now, ever since Rafe popped the question. This leaves Amy enjoying her wedding day, instead of dreading it, or worrying about every detail. This way, it will be special for both of them. You know we agreed that we'd do the final selections with Megan after she's narrowed down the choices on the caterer and the baker. I think it's been going very well, and I have to say, I've enjoyed myself."

"And we're not busy? That's what wedding planners are for."

"It's not that, Jim. Of course, we're busy, it's just that I wanted to help."

"The operative word being "I", Chief. There's no us in "I"."

With a snicker, Blair added, "There is in this relationship."

Jim cast him a mildly exasperated glance. It was mostly for show, but he had a reputation to keep up, he told himself. "Nothing extra fancy, right?"

"No, nothing extra fancy. Just a gathering of friends. I don't know why you're grousing now. We've already scheduled the location, the minister, the caterer and the DJ. There's not much else, but picking out a cake, tasting the hors d'oeuvres, and getting our good suits pressed."

"No tuxes, right? You promised!"

"Nope, this is casual. Nice suits for the guys and Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes for the ladies. It will be great!" When Jim started to chuckle, Blair smacked his arm. "Ellison, you are such an asshole. You love pulling my chain, don't you?"

All Jim could do was laugh as they pulled up in front of The Sugar Rush. His nostrils flared. "It smells like heaven!"

"Oh, God," Blair muttered. "Think about your waistline. Not to mention your arteries!"

Jim glanced over at Blair and waggled his eyebrows. "I'm thinking about my stomach right now, Chief."

Blair followed his partner with a sad shake of his head. They found an empty table in the busy cafe and ordered coffee. Jim added a half a dozen crullers to his order after the waiter mentioned they were the freshest items currently available.

"I love crullers," Jim mused. "They remind me of Sunday mornings when I was a kid."

Blair smiled. "That's special, Jim. Did your dad let you have doughnuts after church?"

"Nope. He always said doughnuts were a waste of money. Mom would take us when he was away on business. After she left... Well, that's exactly why I used to take Stevie down to the doughnut shop every Sunday on our way home from Sunday School. I used my own allowance, and Stevie never told on us. He was little then, before..." Jim sighed before he said fondly, "God, but I loved those chocolate glazed ones when I was a kid."

Before Blair could respond, Sneaks blew into the cafe and after shouting a loud "hello", he slid into a chair next to Jim.

"Fellas, fellas," he said quickly. "What's up? The sky, the moon, the stars. I have something for you. Yes, I do. Something..." He looked expectantly at Jim.

"Sneaks," Jim acknowledged, but paused when the waiter returned with the coffee and the plate of fresh doughnuts. "Thank you," Jim said to the waiter. He sipped his coffee first before biting into a doughnut. "Oh, God..." he mumbled around a mouthful of sugar pastry. "These are fabulous. Have one, Chief." He slid the plate toward Blair, who gingerly took one of the warm pastries.

With Jim watching expectantly, Blair bit into the doughnut and chewed slowly. Instead of the usual grimace of distaste, Jim grinned when Blair smiled, his eyes lighting up.

"Hey! These are good!" Blair said in a surprised voice.

"No shit, Sherlock," Jim muttered, happily eating his second. After licking his fingers, he slid the plate toward Sneaks. "Doughnut?"

"Thanks. Thanks," Sneaks said, taking a cake. "Good stuff." He downed his doughnut in two bites before he licked his fingers.

"So...?" Jim asked.

Leaning closer, Sneaks theatrically whispered, "Word is that there's a new gig in town. Special order cars for special folks in Egypt, or Iran or one of those hot, sandy places with all the oil. They have orders for a dozen."

"Oh? Any names with this operation?" Blair asked.

"Yeah, yeah." Sneaks nodded happily. "Name of-" he glanced around to be sure no one was listening, "-Abdulah Farrarah."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "That's it? Nothing else??"

"Nope, that's it. You know I'll let you know if anything else comes to these amazing ears. So... so," Sneaks said excitedly in a hushed voice, "how much? Huh? How much is that worth?"

Opening his wallet, Jim passed the man two twenty-dollar bills. "Thanks for your help."

"Yeah, sure." Sneaks rose. "Any time. Anything for you. Thanks." He glanced around before bending down to look under the table. "No bonus?" he asked, almost pouting. "Nothing new and exciting for your old pal?"

Jim chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry. Maybe next time."

Sneaks frowned. "Yeah, right. We'll see. Inflation. My prices will rise." His eyes darted back and forth before he reached out and snatched the last doughnut. Then he practically bounced from the place, munching as he went.

Jim sighed. "I never thought anybody on the planet had more energy than you, Sandburg, but I was wrong."

Blair laughed. "Thanks for the comparison, Ellison. So was the lead worth the cash? Anybody you'd heard of before?"

"No. Didn't mean a thing, so it's hard to tell. We'll check it out."

----------------------------

Jim slid the truck into an empty spot amid the patrol cars, ambulance and coroner's wagon. He killed the engine before turning to his partner. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

"You're a good partner."

Blair turned toward Jim, his eyes telegraphing pleasure even if his face was its usual troubled countenance when responding to a murder. "Thanks, man."

As they walked toward the scene where everyone was gathered, Jim mused, "Too bad that Sneaks' tip hasn't panned out."

"As of yet, Jim. We haven't had much time to follow his lead. It's only been a couple of days."

"Still..." Jim shifted his shoulders. "I have a feeling that it was a bum lead."

Blair raised an eyebrow. "Do you think he passed on bad info on purpose?"

"No. Nothing like that. I think it was planted. Somebody knows he's our snitch."

"That's not good. I hope you're wrong. I'd hate to put him in danger."

"Me, too. Wolf. Morelli." Jim greeted the men with a nod.

"Hi, guys," Blair added.

"Hey, Jim, Blair," Dan acknowledged, with Derek adding his own greetings.

"What do we have, Dan?" Blair asked.

"Looks like another one. Same MO. Single gunshot wound. No vehicle to be seen. Another carjacking I'd say," Dan explained.

Jim hunkered down, pulling back the sheet covering the body. He stared into the face of the dead woman. She looked -- average. Like somebody's mother or grandmother. The greying hair was matted with drying blood. "Details?"

"Deana Swanson, age 52. 459 Coburn Avenue," Derek supplied.

Jim glanced from Derek to Dan. "That's not in a fancy part of town. Average, middle-class. What could she have been driving that would have lead to this?" he asked, letting the sheet fall back before he rose.

Dan shrugged. "I'll leave that for you, Jim. I'll run the bullet and compare it to the first victim. Have the results later today."

"Thanks, Dan. Good seeing you again, Derek," Blair said with a smile.

"Yeah, same here," Derek answered. "Catch you later at the lab."

With a nod, Jim walked back to his truck with Blair beside him. When he glanced over at his partner, he noticed Blair's frown. "Chief?"

Blair visibly shivered. "Man! I hate that!"

"What?"

"That -- feeling! You know the one. When your hair stands up on the back of your neck and your entire body is covered in goose bumps."

"Goose walk on your grave?"

"Exactly!" Blair grimaced. "That's an old folk belief, Jim, but it fits. I had this weird, creepy flash of -- something."

"Sandburg, you having a weird, creepy flash of anything is not all that unusual," Jim said dryly, earning him a smack on the arm from his partner.

-------------------------------------

"Jim, this makes absolutely no sense."

"Yeah. A 1996 Ford Fiesta? This has to be wrong," Jim said firmly, examining the screen.

"But it's her picture. It's her address. It's her, man. She owned a piece of shit car."

"Rentals."

"What?"

"Maybe she rented something. You know, for kicks or whatever. Something expensive."

Blair's eyes widened. "Oh, good idea. Let's split the rental companies and start calling."

Jim groaned. "Do you know how many rental car agencies there are in Cascade?"

Blair laughed as he typed on his keyboard. "Ah... seventy-eight. But remember, Budget and the other big guys have multiple offices. We only need to contact the main ones. Besides, they don't have really expensive cars anyway. They have nice ones, but nothing that fits this MO."

Jim chewed on his lower lip. "I doubt they'll give us the info without a warrant. Let's run over to her residence and see if we can find something about this before we spend hours calling the rental agencies."

"Good plan. We can check out her mail and her computer, if she has one. It might be more useful than hours on the phone. “

With a smile, Jim nodded as he rose. Tossing Blair his jacket that he'd pulled from the coat tree, he shrugged into his own. "Come on, Sandburg. This one feels right on."

Blair rose, smiling. "I'm with you."

"I know," Jim said, returning Blair's smile with a warm one of his own.

--------------------------------------

While Jim searched through their latest victim's desk drawers, Blair powered up the desktop computer. He sat down and started scrolling through files while Jim read and discarded several papers. Finding nothing in the drawers, he turned to the pile of mail resting in a wire basket on a corner.

"Hey, look at this." Blair leaned closer to the screen, pulling his glasses from his pocket and slipping them on.

Jim peered over Blair's shoulder. "From some prize company?"

"Yeah. It's from Supermarket Sweepstakes. 'You've won! Yes, it's true! Your name has been selected at random from all entries! You have won the use of a brand new Ferrari for one week! You're a winner! Please contact Leslie for details. Congratulations!' At the bottom, there's the fine print. 'Prize must be claimed within forty-eight hours of notification to be valid. Call now!' There's an 800 number. Man, this can't be a coincidence, Jim. What are the chances of this woman riding around in an expensive sports car, and being in exactly the right place to be carjacked?" 

"Print out a copy of that email, Chief. Any response? Do we know that's where she got the car?"

Blair hit the print button and while he waited for the paper to eject, he scrolled through the rest of the emails. "Nothing here in response, but she could have called. So what do you think? That somebody at -- this place, if there was a place, set up the heist?" Turning back to the computer, Blair entered more information while Jim watched.

Jim rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, maybe. When we busted your little friend, Francine, they somehow managed to locate and follow the victims. It could be that they have some connection at the company. I have a feeling there is no prize company." Jim exchanged a look with Blair before he asked, "Or maybe at the rental agency?"

Blair looked up. "Oh, good idea! If it was a set up of some sort, this -- whoever wouldn't necessarily own an expensive car like this. They could have rented it. Our vic could have been the intended target after all." When another page loaded, he added, "Nope, no such prize organization comes up in a search. So we know the email was a plant."

"No company with that name." Jim worried his lower lip for a second before he said, "But our vic didn't necessarily have to know that. She gets the email, decides it sounds like fun, calls and actually gets the vehicle. So why should she, or would she be suspicious?" Jim considered again before he said, "I think following up with the rental idea is a good one. And just how many exclusive, expensive car rental agencies that would have a Ferrari are there in Cascade?"

Turning back to the computer, Blair entered the new information. After a few moments, he said, "Two, man. Only two."

"Print their addresses, Chief. We have some footwork to do."

"Right." Again, Blair printed out the page. "What are you doing?"

"Finding a picture of Ms. Swanson to take with us."

"Good thinking."

Jim snickered. "I'm a detective, Sandburg," he drawled teasingly.

In response, Blair grinned. "So you are."

Jim ruffled Blair's hair, they gathered the papers they needed, and headed toward the first rental agency on Pacific Heights Boulevard.

"Quite the fancy place," Blair mused when they pulled up in front of the establishment.

"Way out of my price range," Jim muttered as they walked toward the front door, glancing around at the cars lined up behind the high, electrified fence. "There must be two, three mil in just the first group."

Nodding, Blair grinned. "I can't even afford a day's rental on one of these babies," he added, pulling open the door and following Jim through.

"Gentlemen, good day." A smartly dressed woman greeted them. "I'm Gwendolyn. May I be of service?"

Jim flashed his badge. "Detective Ellison, Cascade PD. Detective Sandburg. We're on an investigation. May we ask a few questions?"

"Of course."

"Did you recently rent a vehicle to this woman?"

After carefully examining the picture, the woman shook her head. "No, I don't recognize her."

Blair asked, "Have you rented any Ferraris this week?"

"Yes. A new arrival. A beautiful vehicle if I do say so myself. It's a pure pleasure to drive."

"Ma'am," Jim said, barely hiding his excitement, "when is the vehicle due back?"

"It was returned about four hours ago."

Jim's jaw jumped, and he and Blair exchanged looks. "We need to have our forensics department examine the vehicle. We believe it might have been used in the commission of a crime," Blair said.

"Oh, how dreadful! Nothing serious, I hope. We have full insurance coverage, but I can assure you that the vehicle was returned in pristine condition. There was no damage to it. Not a scratch."

"It wasn't a traffic accident, Ma'am," Jim explained. "Please show us the car so that we can move it to a place where Forensics can conduct a search."

"Certainly," Gwendolyn said, "but you should know that it's been fully detailed already. It's scheduled to go out again later today."

"Detailed?" Blair echoed.

Jim sighed. "That means gone through with a fine tooth comb; everything cleaned and polished."

"Yes, Detective," Gwendolyn said with a nod. "We're extremely thorough. Our clientèle expects the best service possible. Leasing a dirty vehicle is against company policy."

Jim smiled warmly. "Do you think we could see the rental agreement?"

Gwendolyn shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I would need a warrant, of course. But if you provide me with one, I'd be happy to make you copies of whatever you need."

"I understand." Jim hesitated before he asked politely, turning on the charm, "May we see the car?"

"But I just said-" Gwendolyn said.

"Please," Jim said, adding a touch of gentle pleading to his tone. "Just a few minutes, then we'll be out of your hair. Please." Leaning in, he explained, "Someone has been murdered, and we want to find who did it."

Gwendolyn's eyes widened. "How dreadful!" She glanced at Blair, who nodded sympathetically. "This way, gentlemen." She led the way through an extremely clean garage to where the bright red Ferrari now sat.

"Wow," Blair whispered.

"Don't touch it," Jim muttered. "We can't even afford the wax."

Laughing, Blair leaned down to peer into the interior.

"It's not locked. I'll leave you to your perusal," Gwendolyn said. "I have things to attend to. Please let me know when you leave, and," she glanced around, "don't touch anything! Insurance, you know."

"We'll be quick," Blair said reassuringly.

The men waited for the woman to leave before Jim gingerly opened the driver's door. Almost afraid to touch something worth five years' salary, he leaned in and focused his eyesight. Searching for minute traces of anything that could have been left by either their victim or the unknown renter, Jim scanned the floors and seat upholstery carefully. He ran his fingers between the seat and down the back. The vehicle was indeed clean, amazingly so. The detailers were extremely efficient. With a sigh, Jim hunkered down and ran a hand under the seat, turning up his sense of touch. Nothing registered to his sensitive skin.

"Jim?"

"Nothing."

"Try the passenger's side."

Jim nodded and rose, absentmindedly dusting off his hands. He skirted the car and after opening the passenger door, again searched intently. After more than a few minutes, he sighed, shaking his head. "Not a damned thing," he growled. "Shit." Squatting back on his heels, he rested his elbows his knees for a moment, his gaze perusing the interior. Suddenly, he leaned forward, his head inside the car's interior.

"What?" Blair asked.

"Do you have an evidence bag?" In seconds, a bag appeared before his eyes. He took it with a nod of thanks. Fishing a latex glove from his pocket, he snapped it on before leaning further into the low-profile vehicle and using his fingers, he plucked something from the car's headliner.

"What is it?" Blair repeated.

"A hair." Jim slipped the fine hair into the plastic bag and zipped it tightly closed. Holding it up, he showed Blair. "It's short and dark. Maybe it's our perp's."

Blair squinted, peering closely at the bag after Jim handed it to him. "Not the victim's. This doesn't show any grey. The perp's, possibly. Or any one of the previous... Oh, right! This was a new rental! So it is our perp's!"

"One can only hope, Chief. But don't forget about the employees here. Somebody had to clean the car today. Plus transporters. Who knows?"

Blair shook his head. "No way. I'm keeping the faith, Jim."

"Let's call it a day."

"You have a headache."

Jim lead the way through the garage and out through the store's interior. "How do you always know?"

"I'm good, Jim."

With a warm smile, Jim glanced at his partner. "You are that, Chief."

"Detectives!" Both men stopped as Gwendolyn approached. "Thank you for your interest in our vehicles." She held out a fancy-looking brochure. "Please come in when we can be of more service to you. Have a nice afternoon."

At her pleasant smile, Jim's eyebrow raised momentarily before he accepted the brochure. "Thank you, Ma'am. You've been very helpful."

"You're welcome."

"Thanks," Blair added. As they exited the store and walked toward the truck, he asked, "What did I miss?"

Jim handed the brochure to Blair. "Take a look."

Blair flipped open the brochure where a single sheet of paper lay. He glanced at it before he said softly, "Oh! She gave us a copy of the rental agreement without a warrant. That was cool of her, even if she did do something a little bit -- illegal."

"Yeah."

"Nice lady."

Jim smiled.

-----------------------------------------

Simon poured coffee and handed a cup over to Jim. "Thank you, sir."

"Good coffee, Simon," Blair said, sipping his drink. "New blend?"

"It's Maxwell House, Sandburg."

Blair laughed. "Tired of all those fancy blends?"

Simon glared. "A report would be nice."

Jim laughed. "Sorry, Simon. Blair hasn't had enough caffeine in him this morning. The lab confirms that while both victims were killed with the same caliber of weapon -- 9 mm, but the rifling marks show that the bullets came from different weapons. No match from ballistics on either bullet. They ran the DNA on the hair, but again, nothing. They'll keep the sample on file for future reference."

"What about the rental agreement Jim sweet-talked out of the agency's employee?"

"A dead end, sir," Blair said, casting a smirk at Jim. "We checked out the name and address on the agreement. The address would have put the house in the middle of the river, and the name didn't pan out. The credit card was bogus."

Ignoring his partner's subtle teasing about making an impression on the woman at the rental agency, Jim added, "When the rental agency did a credit check, whoever this guy is, he was able to cover his tracks well enough for the check to pass muster."

Blair nodded. "And he even returned the car!"

"Somebody returned the car, Chief. Remember, they left it in the agency's lot before opening and put the keys through the late-night return slot."

Simon held up a hand. "Wait. Somebody had to pick up the vehicle."

"Somebody did, Simon," Jim said. "A middle aged man of average build, average height, average weight. No distinguishing characteristics. We pulled the surveillance tapes but the tape was all messed up. The lab says it was caught in the machine."

Blair snorted. "The damn VCR was ten years old. No wonder. All those fancy cars and they couldn't spring for a new video recorder."

Jim let out an irritated "humph". "No kidding. Anyway, the woman from the rental agency tried to be helpful. She spent three hours going through mug books, but she didn't find a match."

"I think he was probably in disguise anyway," Blair offered. "Make yourself as plain as possible, and nobody notices or remembers you."

"Right," Jim said. "We're staying on this one, Captain.”

Simon sighed. "These two crimes went down in record time, but since the second one, nothing. A pro team would be doing the jobs quickly so they can pull out and move to another locale." Simon shook his head. "Besides, they didn't keep the Ferrari, and there's nothing to tie the two crimes together. I think you're fishing in the wrong creek."

"Simon, you sound as if you want another carjacking, so we know there's a gang working Cascade. And it's only been two days since the second murder. We need more time on both cases. You're not thinking about pulling us off these, are you?" Jim asked in a tense voice.

"Something's not right, man," Blair mused. Jim and Simon looked at him, but Blair just shrugged. "I don't know!" he protested, throwing out his hands. "Something! We need to keep working both of these cases together."

With a shake of his head, Simon held up his hand. "Save it, both of you. I need solid leads or these are going to be kicked out by the next big case that comes along! They'll be passed onto other departments, and you know that's not what I want." Simon pointed a finger at Jim when he started to protest. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch, Jim. They're still your cases and they're both still open-" The buzzer on Simon's desk rang out. He punched the blinking light. "Banks." After listening for a minute, he responded, "I'm sending my best men, sir. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Good morning." His gaze went from Jim to Blair, then back to Jim. "Speaking of the next big thing... That was the mayor." Jim rolled his eyes while Blair sighed. "You know I hate politics as much as the next guy, but you have a job. Double homicide in Baywater Estates."

Blair's eyes widened. "Where?"

"You heard me, Sandburg. Why are you both still sitting here?" Simon growled.

Jim rose and took the paper from his boss's outstretched fingers. He gave a low whistle after reading the address. "We seem to be rubbing elbows with the upper class these days, Chief. It's not often we take a call on the expensive side of the tracks."

Blair gave a small snort. "No kidding. So I suppose this means no breakfast?"

Jim held open the door for his partner. "You could sand to lose a few pounds anyway, Sandburg." When Blair stuck out his tongue, Jim chuckled. "Move it, partner. We have work to do."

-------------------------------

"Morelli?" Jim questioned. "Where's Wolf?"

"Out with the flu."

"Bummer," Blair said with a shiver. "I hate the flu. What do we have?" he asked, barely glancing down at the sheet-covered bodies.

Jim's focus was on Blair, who stood close enough to Jim for him to feel Blair's body tremble minutely. Turning concerned eyes onto his partner, he put a hand on Blair's shoulder, earning him a grateful glance. At Blair's wide eyes, he asked, "Okay?" Blair nodded minutely, and as Morelli gave them the run-down, he scanned the store's interior.

"We have a robbery gone bad. There was one clerk in the store," he pointed toward the young woman sitting behind the counter speaking to a uniformed officer, "and two customers. Victim number one was a twenty-four year old female. Angela Bailey. Victim two is a fifty-five year old man... Hector Smith. Single gunshot wound to each victim. Looks like smaller handgun, maybe a .38. Happened about an hour ago," he added after glancing at his watch.

Jim walked around the bodies and lifted the sheet on each one. After a few moments' examination, he said, "Clean shots. Nothing messy here. Very professional."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Derek said.

"Thanks." Jim gave Derek a curt nod. "Chief? How about you take the lead on this one with the clerk?"

"Thanks, Derek. See you later, man." Blair looked at the young woman and took a couple of slow, deep breaths.

"You'll be fine, Sandburg."

Blair gave Jim a grateful look, and they approached the young woman. Blair nodded to the patrol officer standing at her side. "Officer Jones?"

"Detective Sandburg. Detective Ellison. This is Brittany Cox. She witnessed everything."

"Thank you, Officer. We'll take it from here. If you could wait until we're done and take the witness home, we'd really appreciate it." Jones nodded. He walked over to the doorway to wait. Blair gave the girl a sympathetic smile. "I'm Blair. This is Jim. Are you up for a few questions?"

Brittany dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "I want to go home."

"I know it's been an awful day for you, but it's always better to tell us what you saw right away. Details get fuzzy after a while, and it's really important that you tell us now what happened here today. We want to find the person who did this, and the sooner you tell us, the sooner we can get to work."

Brittany looked into Blair's eyes. "Okay," she said with a sniffle.

"Tell us your personal information first, then in your own words, explain exactly what happened," Blair said encouragingly. "And take all the time you need."

--------------------------------

Jim watched as the young woman's sobs grew louder, and she wrapped her arms around her body. Jim hunkered down in front of the crying girl and in a sympathetic voice, said quietly, "Brittany, one more question, then Officer Jones will drive you home. You're doing a great job." The girl slowly nodded, blowing her nose. "Are you absolutely sure that he seemed to target the victims? He could have walked out with the cash, but instead, purposefully walked over to each of them and shot them?"

"Yes," she whispered. "It was like in a movie. They stood still, looking at him with this look -- too scared to scream, too scared to move... and he just… shot them. In the… head!" she added with a sob. "I thought I was next, but he walked past me like I wasn't there! I was so scared! I couldn't move either!"

Blair patted Brittany's shoulder. "Thank you, Brittany. You've been a great help. After you've rested, we'll have you look at the mug books and maybe work with a sketch artist. Officer? Please drive Miss Cox home. Thank you."

Waiting until the girl had left, Jim said, "We need to look at the surveillance tapes pronto. There's something strange going on here. This guy seems to be targeting specific victims."

"Derek said he'd have the tapes cued up later today after they've been logged into evidence. And I agree, there's definitely something weird here. This wasn't a robbery; it was a hit."

Suddenly, Blair's hand latched onto Jim's sleeve. Jim's gaze searched his partner's face intently. "Geez, Sandburg, you're trembling! What's wrong? You felt -- that thing again? Can you describe it?" he asked adamantly.

Blair sighed before he said, "It's like shivers down the back of my spine. It's not pleasant. In fact, it's damned creepy."

"You'll be okay, Chief. I won't let anything happen to you."

Disquieted blue eyes met Jim's. "Thanks."

-----------------------------

Jim's eyes were closed when the small "mmm" of satisfaction escaped his lips. He licked the sweetness from his mouth and again, a tiny sound of appreciation slipped past. He savored each flavor as it danced on his tongue-

"Ellison!"

Eyes snapping open, he glared at the irritating person who had disturbed his pleasant interlude. Then he realized he'd practically zoned on taste. Embarrassed, he pushed the plate toward the center of the table. "What is it, Connor?" he growled impatiently.

"I take it that you've chosen this one?" she answered, tapping the small plate that held samples of cake with a fingernail.

Jim shrugged, struggling to look nonchalant. Glancing at his partner, who returned his look with a knowing smile, he nodded. "It's the best one."

Blair laughed. "We'll have the cake made with selection number four."

The baker made a note on his clipboard. "So, the buttermilk white cake with the real creamery butter frosting between the layers. Good choice. Always favored by the guests. And just to review, we're going with the red and silver decor on an off-white fondant."

"Yes," Megan answered. "For fifty guests."

"It's an excellent selection, and I think you'll be pleased. It will be delivered to the reception facility before three pm on the thirtieth of December."

"That will be fine, Mr. Patel. The wedding is at six, so that will give us time to be sure the cake table is ready," Blair added. Rising, he shook the baker's hand. "Thank you."

Jim rose, as did Megan. They both thanked the man and followed Blair from the shop.

"Is that the last appointment?" Jim asked, a bit of a whine coloring his tone.

Blair smacked his arm. "Jim, you know we have one more stop. The caterer wants us to taste the results of his efforts. Remember how you insisted on tasting the hors d'oeuvres before approving them after we picked out the ones we wanted?" Blair asked.

"I sure remember," Megan muttered. "He about pitched a fit."

Jim's eyebrow rose. "Oh? I am kind of hungry. Let's go and taste. And I do not pitch fits," he stated.

"It was a bloody tanty," Megan muttered. "I know a tanty when I see one."

Laughing, Blair opened the truck's passenger door and waited for Megan to climb in before he joined her. When Jim got in, Blair leaned forward and said with a smirk, "We have about an hour. Just enough time to get this done before we head back to take a look at those video tapes." Blair grinned. "Always thinking with your stomach, aren't you?"

Before pulling out into traffic, Jim looked past Megan and waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his partner. "Not always with my stomach, Chief."

Megan held up a hand. "Stop right there. TMI! Please, have mercy on the lady in the middle!"

Blair and Jim both laughed at Megan's feigned look of outrage at the obvious flirting going on, and they chatted enthusiastically as the three friends went to complete their final errand in the planning of a special wedding for special friends.

-------------------------------

Jim carried two dinner plates to the table and after setting them down, he retrieved the basket of rolls. "Sandburg! Dinner!" he called.

"Be right there," Blair called, emerging moments later from the office. "Man, I'm starved! Looks great, Jim."

"Beer?"

"Please." Blair sat down and spread his napkin on his lap. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Chief." After opening the two bottles, he tossed the caps into the trash on his way through the kitchen. "Just hungry."

"You are such a liar."

The men ate silently for a few minutes, satiating their hunger, until Blair said, "Good meatloaf. And you made real mashed potatoes for little ol’ me?" he asked, batting his eyelashes dramatically.

"Dork," Jim muttered around a mouthful of freshly baked biscuit.

"Come on, Jim. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans and biscuits. The ultimate comfort dinner that mom always used to make."

"Maybe your mother; not mine," Jim responded, waving his fork toward Blair.

"You're telling me that Sally didn't make dinners like this?"

"You said mom, not Sally."

"Dick," Blair groused before returning to his dinner. "It's still wonderful."

"Thanks."

"Jim? Can we... you know, skip the TV and the dishes, and just everything for tonight?"

"Oh?" Jim raised an eyebrow, glancing into his lover's pleading eyes. Jim knew very well that no matter what Blair wanted, he'd get it when he used that look, but not wanting to seem too much like a push-over, he feigned ignorance. After all, he had appearances to keep up, even if they were soon to be dashed into tiny little bits and he would be at Blair's mercy before he could say, "Fuck me, Chief."

Blair's smile widened. "I have other plans. More important ones."

Jim wiped his plate with a piece of biscuit, gathering up the last of the gravy that had escaped his fork. He chewed thoughtfully, drawing out the anticipation that grew while he watched Blair finish his meal. Leaning back, Jim took a few sips of beer before he asked, And just what's more important than TV or doing the dishes?"

With a mischievous grin, Blair said, "We haven't had a night to ourselves in almost a week. I - Well, let's just say, I have needs, man."

Laughing, Jim shook his head in loving exasperation. "But that doesn't answer the question, Sandburg. What do you have planned?"

"I'm calling a time out." Blair gave Jim a look that could only be described as incredibly sexy with just a touch of evil mixed in. Jim's mouth went dry when Blair calmly leaned back in his chair and casually crossed his arms. It was going to be a long -- but good -- night.

Jim sucked in a startled breath, and he felt his body start to hum. His blood quickened just a bit and his breathing escalated a fraction. Sure, they had a fulfilling sex life, but sometimes, work got the better of both of them. When that happened, one or the other would finally call time out, and insist on reconnecting their bodies, minds and souls. The outside world was turned off overnight, and whoever called for the action took the lead. While there were times when Jim called time out, he especially appreciated when Blair was "in charge" because he welcomed the break from always being the lead detective on their cases, and being the senior officer in the bullpen, and being the older, more mature partner in their relationship. Besides, Blair was more -- sensitive about the job than he was, and he felt Blair needed a feeling of power to help him cope with the daily grind of police work. Giving Blair a curt nod, he carefully placed his knife and fork on his plate and patiently waited.

"Why don't you clear the table and put the dishes in the sink while I go and wash up? Then join me upstairs after you're finished with your own..." Blair rose and leaned close to Jim's ear, whispering, "...bathing."

Jim shivered and swallowed hard. The simple request was made in a soft voice, and the very sound only made him more excited. When Blair issued requests, his voice was always low and soft, with a hint of firmness. Just enough to make Jim start to tremble. "Yes," he answered simply, rising.

Blair gave him a quick, approving nod before disappearing into the bathroom. Jim completed his tasks, ignoring Blair when he walked back through the room to climb the stairs. Jim tracked his lover with his senses, though, and enjoyed the scent of Blair sans deodorant and hair gel and hand lotion, and the sounds of bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. When he heard Blair moving around the bedroom, and the sharp scent of sulfur followed by the fragrance of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, he carefully walked into the bathroom, his cock hard in his now-tight jeans. With a moan, Jim quickly stripped and cleaned himself thoroughly. He ignored his hard-on and hurried to join his lover.

------------------------------

"Face down, my love," Blair ordered softly the moment Jim crossed the bedroom. Jim stifled a moan and lay down, stretching out fully. Blair tapped the back of one of Jim's knees, and Jim spread his legs. The bed dipped when Blair climbed between them, and fingers spread his cheeks, making him gasp when a wet tongue laved his center. Clutching the blankets with his fists, Jim cried out when the tongue was replaced by slick fingers. Raising his hips, Jim bit down on the pillow as the fingers fucked his passage for a few moments. Shuddering around the invaders, the fingers pulled out, but before Jim could register their absence, Blair entered him, hot and slick and hard.

"Chief!" Jim cried, spreading his legs even more.

"Shhhhh," Blair whispered, "no begging. I'll give you everything you need," he added, spreading his upper body across Jim's back and shoving forward. The hard length pressed in further, making Jim gasp again. Sharp teeth bit his ear lobe. He squirmed. "Settle down," Blair admonished.

"Can't," he said with a groan. "Please..."

Levering himself on his hands, Blair nuzzled the side of Jim's face. "Turn your face toward me." Jim complied. Blair gently kissed Jim's lips before pressing his tongue to them. Jim opened his mouth and Blair entered, his explorations slow and lazy. Jim clenched his ass cheeks around the cock buried deep in him, and wiggled his hips, trying to encourage motion. Blair pulled his mouth away for a moment and their eyes met. He returned his lover's warm smile. "Tongue," Blair said. Jim's tongue snaked out and Blair firmly sucked it into his own mouth. Jim groaned when Blair's lips held it and he suckled on the flesh. All Jim could do was whimper.

Of all his lovers, only Blair paid enough attention to do what Jim liked or needed or wanted, only Blair... When Blair minutely rolled his hips before pressing forward, Jim couldn't stifle the whimper that erupted from deep in his throat. He knew he probably sounded like a begging puppy, but with Blair, he didn't care. He needed to be loved. He needed this. Finally, his tongue was released, and he tasted Blair on his own flesh. The very idea, what Blair was doing to him mixed with Blair's flavor coating his tongue, made him even harder. If he had to describe what he felt, he would have said that a strong electrical pulse traveled through his entire body, settling in his cock, and he was afraid he was going to come immediately. Thankfully, before he embarrassed himself and came so soon into their lovemaking session, Blair's sharp teeth bit into his earlobe, making him yelp, more from surprise than pain, but it did knock back the feeling of impending orgasm a couple of notches. How Blair knew he was skirting the edge, he had no idea, but the nip worked. He felt his body relax a bit, and he let out a grateful sigh.

"On your knees, lover," Blair whispered into his ear, moving back a bit.

With Blair's hands for guidance, and with their connection still firmly in place, Jim scrambled awkwardly to his knees. When Jim started to rise to his hands, a firm hand pressed his face back to the pillow, so he resumed the vulnerable position, his ass up high, ready for the taking. The thought made Jim shudder as he pictured himself, on his knees, with Blair's cock buried in him deeply. He wished he had a mirror so that he could watch-

Blair grasped Jim's dick, stopping his thoughts in their tracks and leaving him gasping as the hand pumped hard and fast. Jim grunted and tried to hump the hand, but the sound of Blair's laughter drifted to Jim's ears. While Blair pleasured Jim's cock at his own pace, the shaft that filled Jim's body remained irritatingly still. Jim's hips twitched and jerked. Blair's hand clamped on Jim's hipbone, and he pressed forward even tighter against Jim's ass, forestalling any significant movement. Jim groaned. He wanted to plead with Blair to fuck him hard and long, but he knew what his answer would be. Blair would only laugh and continue to play with Jim's body at his leisure. Shivering with desire, Jim buried his face in the pillow and bit down, while his hips minutely bucked. Blair's hand was relentless, stroking, pulling, tugging, until Jim felt a familiar feeling travel from his balls to his belly and back, and before he could cry out, he came in a rush, spilling his seed on the sheets below.

Panting into the pillow case, Jim struggled to take in enough air. A hand patted his exposed ass cheeks. "Good, Jim. Very good. How do you feel?"

Jim moaned his appreciation, nodding. His reward was the cock in his channel pulling out slightly to just the right place before it moved forward, brushing his sensitive prostate. He cried out loud, the pillow muffling the sound. His lover's hands caressed his body, touching everywhere, caressing his stretched asshole where they were joined as one, tickling the sensitive skin surrounding his lover's buried cock.

"You like this, don't you?" Blair asked, the feather-light touch almost a torment. It wasn't quite hard enough to stimulate, but was just light enough to tickle. Jim's skin rippled from the touch, making Blair laugh. Jim focused on the light touches, and he almost zoned on the sensations. Again, how Blair knew what was happening, he could only explain as Blair's innate guiding abilities, because at just the precise moment he felt himself start to skip away, his lover's hand distracted him. It moved to cup his sated cock before traveling to finger his spent balls. Jim shuddered at the touches, his face still buried in the pillow. He almost begged for... almost, but he knew that he shouldn't, so all he did was moan.

"You want to ask, don't you?" Blair chuckled. "You want to plead and beg. You know I can do this, Jim. I can hold off for a good while. It's the meditation, my love. It makes me harder, longer. See?" he asked, again pulling back just enough to stimulate Jim's prostate again before burying himself to the hilt. "Ask me, Jim," Blair finally allowed. "Go ahead. Ask me."

All Jim's good intentions of letting Blair lead flew out the window. "Please..." Jim begged, embarrassed when the words erupted unbidden. "Pleaseplease fuck me. Please touch me. Please love me. Please! Now, Blair, now!"

Soothing hands stroked his skin, calming him. "But you've already come, Jim. What else could you possibly want?" Blair asked teasingly.

"You. You, you. Want you. God, want you. Please, Blair, please."

"What do you want? Tell me. Explain it to me."

Jim couldn't have resisted if he wanted to. "Want your tongue in my mouth. Want your fingers in my ass. Want you to fuck me. Want you to come in my mouth, in my hair. Want your come on me and in me. Wantwantwant..."

"Is that all, my love?" Blair asked with a laugh. "You seem to want an awful lot, and always more." He leaned forward and slipped his arms up Jim's chest to grasp the broad shoulders in his hands. He licked Jim's ear before sucking on the lobe. He worried the ear until Jim was shivering and goose bumps ran down his body. "You are such a good lover. The best I've ever had. Nobody is better than you. And I love you. You know that, don't you? I love you more than I can explain. I will always love you.

"Now here's what we're going to do. I'm going to raise you up and I want you to lean back against me. Understand?"

"Too heavy..." Jim murmured, afraid to hurt his lover with his larger frame. "No... too much."

"What? You're too heavy? You will do as I ask. Not for long, Jim. Just long enough. I can do it. You know I'm strong. You know I can do it. So you will do what I ask. Do you understand?" Blair asked softly. Jim finally nodded. "Good. Now I'll help you, then I'll sit back on my legs. When they start to fall asleep, I'll let you know."

"Promise?"

"Shhh. Shhh. No more words. Feel, Jim. Feel."

In one fluid motion, with Blair tugging against his shoulders, Jim raised himself up and moved backward so that his ass was resting in Blair's lap. Blair's cock went as a deep as it could, making Jim gasp. "Shhhh," Blair said softly, his hands ghosting over Jim's chest, stopping to worry the hard nipples.

Jim bent his knees and slipped his legs back to rest on either side of Blair's thighs, keeping some of his body weight on them, while resting his hands behind him on Blair's hips, giving his lover full access to his body, to anything he wanted. His lover's fingers pinched and twisted his nipples, making him squirm and arch into the touch. Jim felt Blair's chuckle as he kissed the side of Jim's neck before latching onto the sensitive spot on the curve of his shoulder. The passion mark rose quickly under the strong suction while Blair's fingers tightened on Jim's nipples, sending sharp stabs of pleasure mixed with a touch of pain into Jim's groin. He felt his cock lazily take notice of the stimulation. He moaned deeply, shuddering under the delicious assault, and wondering when he would be fucked. He needed it, and he would have asked, but it was up to Blair... It was Blair's decision. Blair would know when...

With a strangled sob, Jim felt himself sink back against his lover. Blair's strong fingers stopped their tweaking of his nipples to gently rub each one soothingly.

"Yes. That's it, lover. Lean on me. Let me hold you up. I can hold you, and love you. You can rely on me. I'll always be here for you, Jim. When you trip and fall, I'll catch you. Surrender to me."

Jim felt his body almost melt under Blair's words. He closed his eyes and let Blair hold him, love him, take care of him. The fingers caressing his nipples moved away for a moment, only to return, wet and warm. Jim focused and realized that Blair was licking his fingers before rubbing the abused nubs, over and over, soothing, comforting... The very thought of Blair's mouth around his own fingers made Jim groan even more. Those lips around his cock were as close to heaven as he would ever come in this life. With his eyes tightly closed, he enjoyed the feeling of Blair's hands on his body.

"Like that? I know what you like, Jim," Blair said, his hands rubbing wide circles across Jim's chest before one hand walked up Jim's face and a finger tapped his lips. Jim opened his mouth eagerly and sucke