Sequel to "To Have and To Hold"

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Notes: Jim's call sign--one zebra one--is from the episode "Cypher." He used another call in a later episode. Don't you just love continuity?

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Blair looked out over the class of freshmen anthropologist wannabes. "Read Chapters 7 and 8 for next Monday, and answer the essay questions at the end of both chapters." He gathered his notes, stuffing them in his backpack as the students filed out of the lecture hall.

"Mr. Sandburg?" A petite young woman stood tentatively near the podium.

"Hey, Katie! What do you need?"

"Are you in a hurry?"

Blair pulled his watch from his pocket and checked the time. "Well, uh... yeah, a bit. Can we make it quick?" He began walking toward the door, Katie in tow.

"I was a little confused in class, and I wondered if maybe we could have a talk? Maybe over a cup of coffee at the student center?"

"I suppose," Blair agreed. "But I have to meet my partner at the PD by five o'clock."

At 4:30, it was already getting dark outside, as Blair and the young woman exited Hargrove Hall. He shivered as the cold January wind cut through the warm coat Jim had given him for Christmas. They headed around the building, taking a common shortcut between the university buildings to the student center.

Slipping from the shadows behind the building, four young men blocked their path. Katie went white, bolting back the way they had come at the sight of the campus bullies. "Where do you think you're going, fag?" asked a well-muscled youth in a football jacket. He reached out to push against Blair's shoulder.

"Hey! Cut it out!" Blair barked back, shrugging away from the touch and backing up a step.

"I asked you where you're going," the young man said, advancing on Blair as the others fanned out to surround him.

"None of your damn business." Blair looked around, noting that Katie was safely gone, but that his own avenue of escape was cut off.

The bully held up a copy of the Cascade Herald, folded to the page that listed county records. Under name changes was listed "Blair Ellison Sandburg."

"You took the name of your cop boyfriend," the man sneered. "You married?" As he spoke, the circle around Blair tightened until all four men brushed against him. "Does he fuck you every night? I'll bet he makes you moan."

One of the other young men chuckled. "Good one, Carl." He shoved at Blair from behind. "Yeah, I'll bet he pistol-whips you with his cock until you beg for it in your ass."

Blair took a deep breath, shaken by the accusations. "What would you know about it? And why do you care?"

"Queers have got no business teaching good Christian students," Carl spat. "And we're going to make sure that you don't."

"Wait a minute," Blair said, holding up his hands defensively, trying to back away. His motion was stopped by the wall of flesh behind him. "I've got no beef with you guys. If you have a problem with my teaching, take it up with the Dean or the Chancellor." He squirmed, trying to find an opening for escape.

"Takes too long," Carl snarled. "And meanwhile, you Homos are polluting the minds of impressionable freshmen."

"I'm not polluting anyone," Blair exclaimed. "I teach Anthropology!"

"Shut him up, Ray," Carl ordered.

The man named Ray took a roll of duct tape from his pocket and tore off a strip, covering Blair's mouth. As the anthropologist struggled, the four assailants stripped him down to his underwear and began pummeling him. A vicious fist to the solar plexus brought Blair to his knees. He was soon on the ground, his hands bound behind his back; his ankles taped together as well.

Helpless, Blair watched as the students picked up baseball bats from where they'd left them next to the building, and began the beating in earnest.

~oO0Oo~

Jim had closed a major case and handed in his paperwork early for a change. As a reward, Simon had chased him from the bullpen. Knowing that Blair was planning to meet him at the station, Jim decided to drive by the university in hopes of catching his lover before he left.

As the university came into view, his radio crackled to life. Assault in progress. Rainier University. He picked up the radio. "One-zebra-one, on the scene," he barked. "Got any more information for me?" As he spoke, he pulled into a parking space in front of the building. Sandburg's old Volvo was still parked nearby.

A student beating behind Hargrove Hall, the dispatcher clarified.

"Show me handling the call... and get me backup!" Jim growled into the microphone. He tossed the mic onto the seat of the truck as he banged the door open and headed at full speed around the building.

He dialed up his sight as he ran into the darkness of the backside of the building. He could see a pale figure huddled on the ground, four dark shapes bent over it. "Stop! Police!" he shouted, holding out his badge and grabbing his gun as he ran.

The four men scattered as he approached, so Jim was forced to circle around, trying to cut them off. Minutes later, other officers swarmed the scene, and within a half an hour, all four assailants were rounded up and placed into patrol cars.

Jim walked back to where the victim had lain. A uniformed officer stood on the spot, writing in his notebook. An ambulance was pulled up beside the building and the paramedics were just closing the doors. As he watched, the emergency vehicle headed out, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

Jim turned to the officer. "Do we have an identification on the victim?"

"Yeah. We found this." The officer pulled open a familiar worn wallet and took out a driver's license. "Blair Sandburg..." Before the man could say more, Jim was off like a flash, running to the parking lot.

He leaped into the truck, jerking the door shut and jamming his key into the ignition. Gunning the engine, he turned on his own light and siren, peeling out of the lot to follow the ambulance. Picking up the microphone, he called Dispatch. "This is Detective Ellison. I need the destination of the ambulance from Rainier."

They were directed to Mercy, Detective, the dispatcher answered.

Jim swerved through traffic, taking a sharp left turn on a red light to the screech of brakes and blare of horns from other drivers. Too long. It was taking too long. He pounded a fist against the steering wheel, growling and willing the traffic out of his way. Eventually, he pulled into the parking lot of Mercy General and barreled through the doors of the emergency room.

"Blair Sandburg," he stated, skidding to a stop before the admissions desk. "He was just brought in by ambulance. A beating victim."

"We have an unidentified beating victim in Trauma Room 2 right now," the receptionist told him. "No! Wait! You can't go back there!" She ran after Jim, who had charged passed her and barreled through the trauma room's door.

"Blair?" Jim's voice grew softer as he took in the battered face of his young lover as doctors and nurses labored over him.

"You know this man?" the attending physician asked.

"He's my partner," Jim answered, still in shock. "I'm Detective Ellison, Cascade PD." He held up his badge. "That man is Blair Sandburg. How is he, Doc? How badly was he hurt?"

"He's pretty banged up," the doctor informed him. "Bruising indicates he was badly beaten around the head and abdominal area--probably kicked once he was down."

"Doctor!" one of the nurses shouted. "Blood pressure is 110 over 60 and dropping. He's having trouble breathing."

"I'm sorry," the doctor said to Jim. "You'll have to wait out in the lobby." With that, he turned back to his patient, beginning the intubation procedure and issuing orders. "Get this man to x-ray. I want films of his head and abdomen." Turning to another doctor he ordered, "Type and cross match four units of blood. It's likely we have a ruptured spleen on our hands."

Stunned, Jim moved slowly out into the waiting room. He was too upset to sit still, so he began pacing the room. At the far end, in a small alcove, was a bank of pay phones. He made his way over to one and called the station.

"Simon? Yeah, it's me, Jim. Simon... Blair's been hurt. We're at Mercy General."

Aw, shit! How bad? came the gruff voice over the phone.

"I don't know yet. They're taking him into surgery now," Jim told his captain. "I got a look at him. It's pretty bad, sir."

What the hell happened? Simon roared into the receiver.

Jim pulled the phone away from his ear before speaking. "Gang beating behind Hargrove," he said. "The kid's all black and blue. His left eye was swollen shut."

Shit! WHY? the captain growled. Jim could hear the rustling of paper in the background. Never mind, Simon sighed. I'll be right there. Wait for me.

"I'll be here, sir." Jim hung up the phone and resumed his nervous pacing.

Twenty minutes later, Simon arrived. "Any news yet?"

Jim shook his head. "They've only been in surgery a half an hour. Nothing yet."

"Jim, why would a bunch of students suddenly decide to gang up on a popular teacher and beat him to a pulp?" the captain asked.

"I don't know, sir," Jim said.

Simon held out a January 5th copy of the Cascade Herald, folded to the page with county records. "Could this have something to do with it?"

Jim took the paper and stared with growing horror at the listing: Name changes in the past seven days--Blair Ellison Sandburg. "God dammit it to hell!" he exploded, throwing the paper down.

"Easy, Jim," Simon soothed, physically restraining his distraught detective. "Care to explain things?"

"How many people have seen this?" Jim asked.

"Oh, I suspect just about everybody, by now," Simon told him. "There's a lot of speculation running rampant at the station."

"I can imagine."

"Does this mean what I think it means?" the captain asked.

"Probably." Jim sank into one of the molded plastic chairs, all the fight drained from him.

Simon took the seat next to his detective. "How long?"

Resting his elbows on his knees, Jim let his head sink into his hands. "Just since New Year's Eve," he confessed. "It's not like either of us saw it coming."

"So why would Sandburg do something stupid like this?" Simon asked.

Jim shook his head. "Wasn't thinking, I guess; or he didn't know it would be published."

"But why?" Simon repeated.

Jim lifted his head from his hands to look at his captain and friend. "We realized right away that it was right, Simon," he said. "So we sort of promised each other we'd stay committed."

"Sort of?" Simon looked skeptical.

"We exchanged vows... sort of," Jim stammered. "This was Sandburg's way of making the deal more permanent, I guess."

"And now he's taken a hit from some homophobic group of students." Simon sighed, staring down at his folded hands. "I'm really sorry, Jim. This never should have happened."

"I wanted it to remain our secret," Jim confessed. "But I was flattered when he showed me the document. Nobody's ever cared for me that much before. Even Carolyn kept her own name." He took a deep breath. "What's being said behind our backs at the station?"

"Well," Simon said, taking a breath of his own. "Your friends weren't totally surprised, although I think they're a little hurt you didn't confide in them. They're getting over it. Some of the others are muttering homophobic crap, but I wouldn't worry about it. Despite the rumors, Sandburg's popular. Once people hear he's been hurt over this, attitudes will change. You'll see."

"I hope so, Simon," Jim replied. "I want Blair to be able to come into the station without having to look over his shoulder. And I certainly won't be taking any crap from anyone."

"Nobody expects you to," Simon soothed.

The two men fell silent, watching the slow and quiet ticking of the clock on the wall.

~oO0Oo~

"Detective Ellison?" the doctor from the trauma room walked into the lobby, wiping his hands on bloody scrubs.

Jim stood up to greet him. "How's Blair? Can I see him?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "It was touch-and-go there for a while," he admitted. "Mr. Sandburg's spleen had ruptured, so we had to remove it. He required a transfusion of three units of blood." He stopped to check Blair's chart. "There's a hairline fracture of the orbit above his left eye, as well. As a result, his eye will be swollen shut for a few weeks." He looked up at Jim. "When he recovers, I would recommend a thorough eye exam. There's a possibility that he could have permanent damage to his vision in that eye. Only an exam can tell us for certain. Also, his left arm was broken. It looks like it was a defensive wound, before his hands were bound behind his back. Because the break was twisted, it resulted in a compound fracture." Jim listened intently as the doctor continued his laundry list of Blair's injuries. "There's deep bruising over eighty percent of his body. He's going to be very tender for a long while, I'm afraid. The worst of the bruising was concentrated on his face and genitals."

"Oh, God," Jim groaned, wincing at the pronouncement. "Is he...? Will he be all right?"

"Until the swelling goes down, it's too early to say. There's a good chance that everything will heal with normal function," the doctor answered, his voice soft with sympathy.

"Is that everything?" Jim asked. The doctor looked at his chart and nodded. "Can I see him now?"

"He's still in recovery," the doctor answered. "Give us an hour to monitor his condition and get him settled in a room."

Jim slumped back into one of the plastic chairs. Simon approached the doctor. "Thanks, Doctor...?"

"Welby," the man filled in with a slight grin. "No cracks about the name, all right?"

Simon returned the smile with a measure of relief. "Thank you, Dr. Welby. We appreciate the news." As the doctor turned to go back on duty, Simon settled next to his detective.

"It's going to be all right, Jim. You'll see," Simon comforted.

~oO0Oo~

Jim sat next to the still figure in the bed, his hand covering the one that lay upon the blanket. A small moan caught his attention. He stood and leaned over the bruised face.

"Blair? Are you awake, Sweetheart?"

Blair's left eye was swollen shut and covered with bandages and a makeshift patch. His right eye, also black and blue, slit open to look at Jim. "Jim?" The battered lips barely moved, but the Sentinel heard his name: the most precious sound he had ever heard.

"Yeah, Chief, it's me," he answered, squeezing Blair's free hand. "I know it probably doesn't seem like it right now, but you're going to be all right." Blair's one eye blinked slowly. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

"Yeah," the soft voice responded. "Beaten 'cause I'm gay."

Jim brushed a wisp of hair from Blair's forehead, almost afraid to touch his lover for fear of inflicting more pain. "That about sums it up," Jim agreed. "We caught all four of them."

"Good."

"Oh, God, Blair! For a while, I was afraid I was going to lose you."

"Never, man. I promised not to leave." Jim felt the barely-there squeeze of his own hand as he held on tight.

"That's right," Jim agreed, his eyes tearing up and his voice choking as he spoke. "And I'm going to hold you to it."

Blair's eye closed, and the young man sighed. "I'm so tired...."

"Then sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." Jim bent down to kiss the broad forehead, before settling back into his chair again.

Four days later:

"Aw, geez.... Ow!"

"Come on, Blair; we have to get you dressed if you want to go home," Jim reminded him.

"I know; I know. But getting dressed never hurt like this before." Blair eased himself into the baggiest jeans Jim could find to bring, but as he attempted to zip the fly he let out another curse. "Damn! Jim, think anyone would mind if I left the fly open?"

"You're not wearing underwear, either, G.I. Joe. I think someone might notice," Jim commented.

"Some sympathetic partner you are!" Blair groused, having had an equally difficult time getting a shirt on with the cast and sling on his left arm. "Can we just throw a blanket in my lap?"

"Sit down," Jim commanded. Blair lowered himself slowly into the wheelchair, while Jim got a blanket from the room's closet and laid it with great care across Blair's lap. "Now we can get on those shoes and socks."

"That's one area that isn't bruised, at least," Blair said with some relief. He cooperated by lifting his feet as Jim knelt to finish dressing him.

"For which we can be forever grateful," Jim said with a whimsical smile and not a little helping of honesty.

"So, are we all dressed and ready to go?" An all-too-perky nurse sailed into their room and gave Blair a final quick check.

"Yes," Blair answered with a shade of sarcasm lacing his voice. "We are ready to go."

Jim walked beside his partner as the nurse wheeled Blair to the elevator, then down the hallway to the pick-up entrance. "Don't go anywhere," he admonished. "I'll be right back with the car."

"Aw, Jim," Blair pouted. "I was gonna ask Patricia, here, for a date, man!"

Jim shook his head, a big smile plastered across his face, and went to fetch the truck. Minutes later, he pulled up at the loading ramp and helped Patricia get his clumsy partner loaded into the passenger seat.

"It's gonna be so good to be home," Blair sighed as they pulled out into traffic. "You're going to have to help me up the stairs to bed, though. I can barely move!"

"Not going to be a problem for me," Jim told him. "Simon has given me a week off to help you get settled at home."

"That was nice of him," Blair said with a small grin. "So he took the news all right?"

While Blair had been hospitalized, Jim had avoided talking about the unintentional outing of their relationship, but once the release papers had been signed, he felt obligated to mention it. "As well as can be expected. I don't think he wholly approves, but he likes both of us well enough to let it slide. So long as we don't rub it in his face, he'll be fine with it."

"And everyone else?"

"I don't know. I haven't been back to the station since I found out about the listing in the paper," Jim admitted.

"I'm really sorry." Blair took a deep breath and blew it out. "I forgot all about the county listing stuff like that in the paper. I guess the information runs for at least a full week. I really screwed up, didn't I?"

"We all make mistakes, and you certainly paid for this one," Jim said. "You meant well, and the gesture really meant a lot to me." He carefully placed a hand on Blair's knee as he drove. "Not even Carolyn took my name when we were married."

"Really? I didn't know that!" Blair was astonished. "It seems like such a little thing. Besides, I didn't give up my name or identity; just added yours." He smiled as best he could with bruised and swollen lips.

"That's more than anyone else ever did," Jim repeated. He fell silent then, pulling into the parking lot beside the loft's building. Sliding out of the driver's seat, he went around the front of the truck to Blair's door, helping the young man down. He slipped his jacket off and tied the sleeves around Blair's waist, covering his front for the walk into the building.

They took the elevator up. Blair walked slowly and with some difficulty, but he managed to navigate the hallway. He walked into the apartment with an air of relief. "God, it feels good to be home!"

Jim helped him across the room and settled his partner on the couch. "Can I get anything for you?"

"I'd like to get out of these clothes and into something more comfortable, like my robe," Blair told him.

Jim knelt down and slipped off Blair's shoes. "We'll leave the socks, so your feet don't get cold."

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll get your robe." Jim stood and headed for the bathroom, where Blair's robe hung on the back of the door, right where he'd left it over four days ago. Bringing it back, he began to carefully undress the younger man.

"Owowowowow..." Blair muttered under his breath as Jim slowly and methodically stripped him. He sucked in his breath and held it while Jim eased the shirt off past his cast and over his head. When the softness of the fleece robe was finally wrapped around him, he sighed. "Hold me?"

Gingerly, Jim wrapped an arm around Blair's shoulders and pulled him close. Blair rested his head against Jim's chest, snuggling into the embrace. There was no place to touch his lover that didn't hurt, Jim knew, but Blair desperately needed to be held and loved. His other arm reached around the cumbersome cast until he had the young man in a loose hug. He placed a kiss on top of the head of curls, and heard a soft sigh of contentment.

"I love you, Jim."

"Love you too, Humpty Dumpty."

"Hey," Blair said, tilting his head up to look at Jim. "I disclaim that nickname. I've been put back together again. It's just going to take some time before I appreciate it."

"Appreciate this." Jim leaned down and very carefully pressed his lips against Blair's. The young man opened his mouth, allowing Jim's exploring tongue to enter.

Blair pressed himself against Jim, allowing Jim's arms to tighten around him. He threw himself into the kiss, until the pain grew to more than he could tolerate. An anguished moan climbed up his throat, causing Jim to release his hold and back away.

"God, Blair! Why didn't you say I was hurting you?" Jim's anger flared briefly, misdirected at the victim.

"It's okay, Jim," Blair said, cuddling back against Jim's chest. "It's just the way it is, for now. It'll get better."

Jim allowed his arms to wrap back around the battered man. "Not soon enough for me," he muttered.

They stayed that way on the couch for over an hour. No more talking, just holding and snuggling. Blair was hungry for the comfort, for the safe harbor of his lover's arms. Finally, he roused from a drowsy stupor.

"Blair? What's the matter?" Jim frowned as Blair pushed away and attempted to stand.

"Gotta take a leak," Blair murmured, shuffling painfully toward the bathroom.

Jim was immediately up and at his side. "Let me help. You shouldn't be up on your own, yet."

"Thanks, Jim." Blair leaned heavily against his partner.

Jim steered Blair into the bathroom, then backed off to give the young man a modicum of privacy. Blair turned around, lifted his robe and sat on the toilet, unwilling to handle his swollen and aching penis. Jim winced as a whimper issued from Blair's throat, as the gentle sound of tinkling water filled the room. What kind of justice was it that let four assailants languish in jail in perfect health, while their innocent victim couldn't even pee without crying?

The sound of shuffling feet brought his attention back to more immediate matters. "All done?" Blair nodded. "Well, how about something to eat? What would you like?"

"Just a sandwich would be fine," Blair answered, steering toward the dining table.

"Hold up a minute," Jim said, as Blair prepared to sit. The young man watched, perplexed, while Jim ran upstairs. He came down moments later with a pillow. He pulled out a chair, placed the pillow on the seat and patted it. "Put it there, Chief."

Blair grinned. "You think of everything."

"I try."

Once Blair was settled, Jim went into the kitchen and began to prepare sandwiches for both of them. As he worked, he brought up a painful subject. "You know, the preliminary trial for the kids who beat you is coming up." He looked up at his partner. "You're going to be asked to testify. Think you can do it?"

"Do I have a choice?" Blair looked glum.

"Not if you want them put away," Jim replied.

"They're just kids, Jim. What're they going to get for this? A couple years? Meanwhile, I have to live with the consequences." Blair raised a hand to his to his left eye, fingering the patch.

"They're all at least twenty," Jim reminded him. "Young, yes, but not kids. This is felony assault, Blair. We're pushing to put these kids away."

Blair sighed. "I'll do whatever I have to do, I guess."

"Good, because I want to see these guys get everything that's coming to them for what they did to you. Damn the consequences," Jim spat.

~oO0Oo~

The afternoon passed quietly; Blair tried catching up on reading some journal articles, while Jim flipped through the TV channels, trying to find something that wasn't a soap opera or game show.

After dinner, the couple settled together on the couch to watch basketball. Blair snuggled as close as his cast and assorted bandages would allow. "It's great to be home," he sighed.

"It's great having you home," Jim agreed, wrapping an arm around Blair's shoulders.

The brief exchange ended in a gentle kiss before the TV announcer began the introduction of the teams' starting lineups. Blair rested his head against Jim's shoulder as the men turned their attention to the game. By halftime, his soft snores echoed through the loft.

"Hey, buddy," Jim said, nudging the sleeping body next to him. "Time to hit the sack."

"Huh?" Blair looked up, still a bit fuzzy from sleep.

Jim jockeyed for position, supporting Blair as he moved away and stood up. "I said, it's time for you to get to bed." He helped Blair to stand, and then wrapped an arm around his waist as the young man shuffled toward the stairs.

The walk up the steep flight took several minutes, with Blair collapsing in exhaustion by the time they reached the top. Jim stripped his partner of the robe he'd worn all day, and helped roll him over to his side of the bed. "Don't forget this," he added, handing Blair a portable urinal the hospital had sent home for his use. "It's too hard getting you up and down stairs."

"Tell me about it," Blair groused, trying to find a comfortable position. His only options were his right side or his back; the cast on his left arm making any position difficult. He finally opted for curling onto his side, his back to Jim.

Jim stripped quickly and climbed in beside Blair. He scooted close, spooning his body against his lover's. The soft sigh that escaped from Blair's lips made him smile. Despite the pain from the bruising and other injuries, he still welcomed Jim's touch. It would be a long while before Blair's battered body could respond sexually, but that didn't matter now. All that mattered was that the young man was alive, safe, and back in Jim's life.

Two weeks later:

The bruises were healing, but Blair still sported bright yellow and green splotches across the most deeply affected areas of his body. He eased into the suit Jim had laid out for him, anxious about the day's proceedings.

"You about ready?" Jim called up from the kitchen. "I've got some breakfast here. You really should eat."

"I'm not all that hungry," Blair admitted, making his way slowly down the stairs.

"It's going to be hell in court today," Jim reminded him. "You're going to have to face those bozos and tell what happened to you. You're going to need your strength."

"I suppose," Blair reluctantly agreed, sitting at the table.

Jim brought over oatmeal with sliced bananas and some toast. "Coffee or milk?"

"Coffee," Blair said with a grin. "I'm going to need all the fortification I can get."

Jim settled across from Blair and began eating his own breakfast. "Just tell the truth," he said.

"But what if the defense lawyer brings up... us?" Blair asked nervously.

"Oh, undoubtedly he will," Jim confirmed. "It's his job to make you look dirty and his clients justified."

"There is no justification for this," Blair said, a hint of anger coloring his voice as his right hand swept down and across his body, indicating his injuries.

"Of course not!" Jim agreed. "But that won't stop him from trying to make you look like you asked for it."

Blair sighed. "I really screwed up with that name change, didn't I? Jim, man, I never thought about the newspaper. God, what an idiot! I might as well have gotten 'faggot' tattooed across my forehead."

"Enough!" Jim's fist slammed into the tabletop. "You're not to blame here. If you go into court with that attitude, you're giving the trial to the goons who molested you." His voice softened, and he looked across at his lover. "It's too late to worry about being outed. You say what you have to say; I don't care anymore who hears it."

"You sure?" Blair looked up from his oatmeal, eyes wide. "It could mean your career."

"Simon already knows," Jim admitted. "He doesn't like to talk about it, but he's not going to raise a fuss, either."

"What about the others? What about Joel and Megan, Brown and Rafe?"

"They already know," Jim answered. "After all, they read the paper, too. Blair, they'll support you. Don't worry."

Blair ran his hand down his face in frustrated surrender. "All right. Whatever you say. I want these guys put away as much as you do."

"That's the spirit!" Jim smiled. "Go get 'em!"

Later that morning; County Courthouse:

"The prosecution calls Blair Sandburg," Attorney Marshall Davis announced. Blair got up and made his way to the witness stand. "Do you swear to the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

Blair raised his right hand, giving Jim a quick glance. "I do."

"You may be seated." Blair sat, looking up at the lawyer. "Now, Blair, would you please recount the events of the afternoon of January 9th?"

"I was walking behind Hargrove Hall with a student," Blair began.

"And why were you walking behind the building?" the attorney asked.

"It's a common shortcut to the student center," Blair explained. "I was going to have coffee with Katie Farrell and help her with an Anthropology assignment."

"And what happened as you were walking behind the building?"

"Four male students stepped out of the shadows and blocked my path." Blair took a deep breath. "Katie turned and escaped, while I was surrounded."

"Are the men that confronted you in the courtroom today?"

Blair nodded. "Yes, sir, they are. They're sitting at the defense table," he said, pointing.

"What happened next?"

"They began to taunt me and shove me around," Blair said. "They surrounded me and started hitting. Carl Monroe hit me in the stomach, knocking me to my knees," he continued. "After that, they brought out baseball bats and began to beat me."

"Why didn't you fight back?" Davis questioned.

"I did, at first," Blair said. "But they gagged and bound me so that I couldn't fight or get away."

"And how long did this go on?"

"I couldn't say," Blair admitted. "I was knocked unconscious, and didn't wake up again until I was in recovery from surgery at the hospital."

"And would you tell the court the extent of your injuries, please?" Davis continued.

"The beating ruptured my spleen--which had to be removed--broke my left arm and cracked my skull above my left eye." Blair's right hand automatically rose to finger the patch. "The doctor said I'll have to have my vision checked when the bandages come off, to see if there's any permanent injury to my eye."

"Objection; hearsay," the defense attorney interjected.

"Sustained," the judge agreed.

"Thank you, Blair. That will be all." The prosecution stepped down to let the defense lawyer have a turn.

Dan Cooper approached the witness stand, looking like a shark circling in bloody water. "Mr. Sandburg... could you please tell us why Mr. Monroe confronted you?"

"I'm sorry...?" Blair looked confused.

"Did it have anything to do with this?" The defense attorney handed Blair a copy of the Cascade Herald, folded to the county records page.

"Um... yes," Blair said very softly.

"Defense Exhibit 1, Your Honor," Mr. Cooper said, presenting the newspaper. "For the record, this newspaper published your name change, did it not?"

"Yes," Blair answered succinctly.

"And can you explain to the court why you added 'Ellison' as your middle name?" When Blair said nothing, Cooper continued. "It's because you and Detective Ellison are engaged in a sexual relationship, is it not?"

Blair continued his silence, all color having drained from his face.

The judge turned to the shocked witness, sympathy on his face, but sternness in his voice. "Please answer the question, son."

"Y-y-yes...." Blair looked with horror across the courtroom. As many of Major Crime's detectives as could get free for the trial were there to support their observer in his time of need. Looks of surprise crossed some of their faces, but most smiled and looked supportive. Jim gave him a thumbs-up; his sign to keep going, everything would be all right.

"That's all I have for now," Cooper announced, turning away from the witness.

"You may step down," the judge told him. "But stay available, in case you're recalled."

"Yes, sir." Blair stepped down from the stand on shaky legs.

The pre-trial hearing continued for some time, with a large bail being set for the four young men.

After the trial, Jim guided Blair out into the hall, anxious to get his still-healing lover home to rest. "Oh, God, Jim!" Blair sighed. "I really screwed things up in there."

"Why do you say that, Darwin?" Jim asked, surprised that by telling the simple truth, Blair felt he had somehow let Jim down.

"I admitted, in public, that we're a couple," he answered. "Half of Major Crime knows for sure, now. I'm really sorry, Jim. I know you wanted to keep it a secret."

Simon walked up to the couple, resting a reassuring hand on Blair's shoulder. "You did good in there, kid."

"Oh, man...." Blair groaned.

"Don't go beating yourself up," Simon soothed. "The damage was already done when the paper published your name change. Most of the detectives have not only accepted the idea, they actively support you." When Blair turned a look of surprise on the Captain, Simon continued. "Whether or not they support your relationship, they support you," he clarified. "Nobody deserves to be half killed over something like this. What those boys did was just plain wrong."

"You know, Simon," Jim began, wrapping a protective arm around Blair. "We appreciate the support, but Blair is still pretty banged up. He needs a soft couch and some pillows for the rest of the afternoon."

"I understand," Simon agreed. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off, too, Jim? I think that after this morning, you both need a little decompression time."

"Thanks." Jim's smile of gratitude lit his face. He hadn't wanted to leave Blair home alone today, after the trauma of the trial.

"I'll call if we hear anything," Simon assured him.

Just then, Megan came running up. "Glad I caught you," she said, slightly out of breath. Resting a hand on Blair's good shoulder, she rubbed it soothingly. "I just wanted to say that I'm really happy for you." At Blair's puzzled look, she continued. "About you being a couple." Megan's smile was electric. "I suspected for some time that there was something more between you two. I'm glad you finally came to your senses--no pun intended," she added, looking at Jim.

Jim gave her the patented Ellison look, then turned to Blair, guiding him toward the door. "Come on, Chief, let's go home."

Blair turned to Megan, flashing her a smile. "Thanks, Megan. Talk to you later?"

"You bet, mate!"

"Jim! Blair!" Before Jim could get his partner out the door, they were flagged down again, this time by Joel Taggert.

"Hey, Joel," Jim greeted the bomb squad captain. "I really need to get Blair home," he apologized.

"Yeah, I know," Joel said, noting the dark rings beneath Blair's eyes. "It's just been a while, and I wanted you both to know that this doesn't change anything between us." He turned to Blair. "How are you doing?"

"Been better," Blair answered, then smiled. "But it's great to know that I'm not going to be ostracized when I come back to the station."

"To tell you the truth," Joel said, dropping his voice, "the revelation was not taken kindly by everyone in Major Crime. But the guys that are talking down about your relationship are the same ones who never really accepted you in the first place." Joel patted Blair's shoulder gently. "Don't worry, you've got plenty of supporters."

"That's good to hear," Jim said. "Blair's going to need all the support he can get when he comes back."

"What about you?" Blair asked, surprised. "The ones who don't approve of us are going to be on your back now, too."

"I can take care of myself," Jim assured him. "Come on, Blair, let's get you home. Later, Joel."

"Sure, Jim. Later."

Once they got home, Blair collapsed on the couch. "I feel like I've been run over by a steamroller," he sighed, slouching into a corner of the cushions. "It's nice to know we have some supporters in Major Crime, though."

"Yeah, it's better than I expected it to be," Jim admitted, coming to sit next to his partner. "Blair," he rested a hand on Blair's knee, "despite everything that's happened, I still think the gesture of adding my name to yours was the most loving thing anyone has ever done for me. I'm sorry beyond words for what happened because of it, but the fact that you're still here proves to me that you won't ever leave." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. "Now that the world knows, anyway, I wanted to give you a little something in return."

"You don't owe me anything, Jim," Blair protested. "I know the depth of your feelings. You don't have to prove anything."

"I want to," Jim replied, opening the box. Inside, nestled side-by-side were two gold bands. He took out the slightly smaller of the two and cradled Blair's left hand. "We made a commitment to each other that bound us together, eternally. This band is a circle, endless, like our love." He slipped the ring onto the third finger of Blair's hand, then handed him the box with the other ring.

"Oh, man...." Blair sniffled, wiping unbidden tears from his eyes. "You may be the quiet one of the two of us, but when you talk, you sure know what to say." He picked the second ring from the box and slipped it on Jim's finger. "Eternity--together."

Jim leaned forward, sealing their vows with a kiss.

Six weeks later:

"I'll bet it's a relief to get finally get out of that cast," Dr. Welby commented.

Blair sighed, rubbing up and down his left arm in an attempt to relieve the itch that had plagued him for weeks. "You can say that again!"

"Your arm will be weak for a while," the doctor reminded him. "I want you to use it as much as possible. You need to gain back the strength. Just be careful not to overextend yourself."

"I'll be careful," Blair assured him.

"So, are you ready to get rid of that eye patch, too?"

"More than ready," Blair agreed.

The doctor dimmed the lights in the room and pulled off the patch. Then, slowly, he began to peel back the layers of gauze which had covered Blair's eye for two months. Once the bandages were removed, Blair blinked, trying to moisten his eye and clear his vision.

"Just a minute." Dr. Welby walked over to his cabinet and pulled out a bottle of eye drops. "Tip your head back for me," he instructed, placing two drops of the medicated solution into Blair's eye.

After blinking again and dabbing at the excess moisture with a tissue, Blair looked around the room. "How is it?" Welby asked.

"A little blurry," Blair said. "But not too bad."

"That's to be expected at first," the doctor assured him. "Your appointment with the ophthalmologist is this afternoon?" Blair nodded. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks." Blair pulled his shirt back on, enjoying being able to slip his left arm through the sleeve. "I'm glad this is almost over."

"I'll bet you are," the doctor said with a chuckle. "Good-bye, Blair. Take care of yourself."

"I will. Good-bye, Dr. Welby." Blair exited the exam room and found himself face-to-face with Jim, who was studying him intently.

"How'd it go?"

"Everything's copacetic," Blair said with a smile. "Got my eye exam this afternoon, then I'm free."

"Good," Jim growled possessively. "It's about time."

"You said it, man," Blair agreed.

~oO0Oo~

Blair's return to the Major Crime bullpen was almost anticlimactic. He was surrounded by his and Jim's friends and welcomed back into the fold; then life resumed its normal pace. Simon stuck his head from his office and summoned the two men.

"Come on in," he said, gesturing toward the conference table and chairs. "Jim, will you shut the door, please?" When both men were seated, Simon got to the point. "Carl Monroe and his buddies struck a deal with the D.A.'s office."

"What kind of deal?" Jim asked, feeling his heart sinking to his feet.

"The men pleaded guilty to misdemeanor battery in return for reduced sentences," Simon explained. "Monroe got five years, but he'll be out in three with good behavior. The others got assigned a thousand hours of community service at the Rainbow House..."

"I know that place," Blair interrupted. He turned to Jim. "It's a safe house for gay and lesbian kids."

"...on top of the two months already served in jail while they awaited trial," the Captain finished.

"Simon, these men would have beaten Blair to death if the police hadn't arrived when they did," Jim argued. "How can the D.A. give them a deal like that?" He turned to look at his partner.

Blair took a deep breath. "I can't say I'm entirely happy about this," he admitted. "I feel like I'm going to have to go through life looking over my shoulder."

"I tried to talk them out of it," Simon told his men, "but the D.A. wouldn't buy it. With all the budget cutbacks, they can't afford jail time for minor battery cases."

"Minor?" Jim exploded. "Blair just got his cast off and he's minus a spleen. You call that minor?"

"None of those men had any priors," Simon told them. "There's no reason to believe they'll re-offend. I understand that you're upset; so am I, but those are the facts and we're going to have to live with them."

"Simon, it's okay," Blair's soft voice sounded from two chairs away. "They aren't bad kids; just misdirected."

"I don't believe this!" Jim exploded. "How can you sit there and take this news like Simon was reporting the weather?"

"Jim, man, there's nothing we can do about it. I'll just have to stay alert when I'm on campus."

"Alert, hell. As long as any of those bastards are on campus, you'll have a bodyguard assigned to you," Jim promised.

"That's another thing," Simon interjected as memory kicked in. "They've all been banned from the Rainier campus, and there's a restraining order against all three."

"That's some comfort," Blair admitted. "But what's really to stop them? They could wait for me off campus. Restraining orders don't do much good unless there's a cop right there."

"The boys that were released were remorseful," Simon told them. "They seemed genuinely sorry that things escalated like they did. The D.A. was convinced that they weren't a threat and took steps to make sure you wouldn't come in contact with them."

"You're staying with me," Jim said, turning to Blair. "Take a medical leave from Rainier and become my full-time partner for a while."

"No, Jim," Blair said, shaking his head. "If I don't go back now, I may never be able to. It's the old getting back up on the horse thing, you know."

"I know it's none of my business," Simon said, "but I think Blair's right. He needs to get back into his routine."

"What would you know about his routine, Simon?" Jim growled. "He'd be safer with me."

"Jim," Blair interrupted. "It's my decision. I want to go back." Jim started to sputter. "No," Blair said, holding up his hands. "Don't start. I'm going back." He turned to the Captain. "Thanks for letting us know what's happening, Simon."

"No problem," Simon said with sympathy. "So, how did the eye exam go?"

Blair brightened. "Great! The only change in my vision was what could be expected for my age and the time since my last checkup. I need a new prescription, but the injury didn't do any permanent damage."

"That's terrific news!" Simon agreed. "You're looking much better."

"I feel much better," Blair assured him. "It's going to take a few weeks to get the strength back in my arm, but Jim's already got some ideas for workouts that will help." He turned his smile on his partner.

Jim finally relaxed and returned the smile. "Don't you think we ought to get home and get started on one of those workouts?"

"Yeah, sure," Blair agreed. "I'm ready." He stood, pushing back his chair and walking to the door.

Jim beat him there, opening the door and ushering Blair through. "See you tomorrow, Simon."

Simon grunted, lifting his cigar to his mouth to chew as he watched the two men walk out of Major Crime, arms wrapped around each other's waists.

~oO0Oo~

"Ahhhhh... Jiiiiim...." Blair sighed as the Sentinel's hands ghosted over his nipples, raising them to hard points.

"Think you're ready?" Jim asked, punctuating his words with kisses to Blair's straining cock.

"Oh, God, I'm ready! I'm ready!" Blair squirmed as Jim's finger traced its way down his crack to tease the tight muscle of his anus.

Reaching over to the nightstand, Jim grabbed the lube, coating his fingers. He gently probed the hole, his finger slipping in up to the first knuckle. Blair arched above him, raising his hips off the mattress. "You okay?" Jim's voice was breathy in Blair's ear. He nibbled at the lobe, waiting for his answer.

"Yes... yes...." Blair gasped. "Get on with it."

"We go slow," Jim reminded him. "We haven't been able to do this for a while and you're still tight."

Blair sucked in a deep breath, trying hard to allow his body to relax. His injuries had precluded sex for nearly two months. Before that, he and Jim had only begun to experiment with anal penetration. While Blair was no longer a virgin, he didn't consider himself experienced, either. He consciously relaxed his muscles one by one, until he felt Jim's finger slip fully inside.

The sensation was incredible. A moan escaped Blair's lips as he laid there, absorbing the notion that Jim was inside him. Slowly, the finger was withdrawn and replaced by two. While Jim's fingers gently fucked him, his mouth was captured in a kiss, a hand tangling in his hair. Wrapping his arms around his lover, Blair vowed never to disappoint him.

Jim's lips trailed off Blair's mouth, leaving him breathless. Kisses traced their way down his chest and abdomen until the lips encountered the firm column of his erection. "Oh, God!" Blair screamed, fingers digging into the sheets as Jim swallowed his cock, then began an unrelenting suction of the head.

The fingers slipped from his ass, replaced by Jim's own member, stiff and pulsing with life. The penetration pulled another inarticulate scream from Blair's throat. The young man squirmed, trying to rock his hips with the rhythm of Jim's thrusting. His lover held his hips still, increasing the tension until Blair thought he would burst apart.

His climax built, growing from the pit of his stomach. His balls tightened; his grip on the sheets tightening along with them. "Gonna come, Jim!" Blair warned, shaking with the effort to hold off a bit longer.

Finally, Jim released his hold on Blair's hips. With a few sharp thrusts, Blair's orgasm washed over him and he emptied his seed down Jim's throat with a cry of completion.

Jim swallowed as quickly as he could, increasing the speed of his own thrusts as Blair's body spasmed around his cock, milking the aching organ toward climax. He came explosively, pounding hard into Blair's yielding center. He collapsed on top of Blair with a contented sigh. Two arms wrapped around him, holding him in a lopsided grip.

Jim rolled over, taking Blair with him. He petted sweaty strands of hair from his lover's face, Blair's wide blue eyes watching his every move. "I'm not letting anyone else touch you, ever again," he vowed.

Blair leaned toward him, touching Jim's lips gently with his own before pulling back. "Nobody's ever going to touch me like that, except you," he returned. "But you can't be there to protect me all the time, Jim. I'll be fine, really."

"You will, won't you?" Jim's response was filled with a measure of awe, as he realized just how strong and resilient his partner really was. "I don't care who knows," he added. "Now that we're out, we shouldn't hide how we feel."

"Within bounds," Blair amended. "No groping in the bullpen." He smiled as he shook a finger in Jim's face.

Jim's mouth turned down in a pout, but he couldn't contain his mirth for long. "No sex in your office."

"No tongue in front of Simon."

"No sex in the break room."

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"Love you, too, Chief."

The End

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Acknowledgments: Many thanks to Mary for being such a reliable and faithful beta for my work. I couldn't do it without you!