He remembered to get gas. That morning, Blair had remembered to get gas before going to work, something he always forgot until the he was running on fumes. But this morning, he had remembered.

He'd forgotten to put the wash in the dryer. But then he'd had a few other things on his mind. Things he didn't want to think about too much, because if he ever sat down and let himself think, he knew the results would be too much to handle.

His classes passed in a blur, he knew he'd handed back the term papers, but couldn't remember if he'd recorded the grades. It didn't matter, everyone had passed this semester. Somehow, without his thinking about it, Blair had ended the spring semester ahead of schedule, assigning a final paper but no final exam.

Ahead of schedule, Blair packed a few of his personal possessions from the office... a coffee cup, a favorite desk clock, a book or two, the pen Naomi gave him when he got his Masters. The rest he just left in its place. Then he locked the door, said goodbye to the department secretary and walked out.

He didn't drive back to the loft, instead he drove around Cascade-past the police station, the courthouse, the Wilkenson Tower, William Ellison's house. Then he headed for the bay, stopping first at a convenience store to buy a twelve pack.

He finished half the case before the sun set.

Leaning against the windshield, he finally let himself think.

There was no way he could finish the dissertation he'd started three years previous. No way he could protect Jim and still get those three all important letters behind his name. No way he could protect himself any longer.

He'd fallen in love with his research subject. He'd fallen in love with a man. He'd fallen in love with Jim.

And while it wasn't all bad, there was definitely a down side when two previously exclusively straight men tried to have sex. Two straight guys doesn't add up to gay love, there was just no way that equation added up to a happy ending. Wasn't possible. Even when multiplied by the Sentinel factor. The equation was just doomed to be divided.

When they did get close, it was electrical, like gasoline thrown on a raging fire. Bam, spontaneous combustion. But they never talked about it. Never. Not inside of bed, and certainly not outside. If Blair brought it up, Jim would grimace in that certain way and Blair would drop it. Jim never brought the subject up.

Destined for failure.

How can you manage a relationship if no one was willing to admit there was a relationship to manage?

Blair drank another two beers before thinking again.

Then he tried to figure out what he was working so hard for his whole life. It certainly wasn't about the job. Teaching was okay, research was okay, expeditions were pretty good, and while they made his mind whirl, they didn't stimulate him like they had before Jim. The things that excited him when he was twenty, paled in comparison to riding beside Jim, solving cases and putting the bad guys away.

His mother would have a seizure if she knew.

Another beer down.

A shooting star caught his eye, and as he watched it, he made a wish. A do-over. That's all he wanted, the chance to go back and do things over. But as he thought more about where he'd place that do-over, he realized that any change in his past would change where he was now. And other than the last few months, did he really want to change where he was?

He studied the new can of beer in his hand.

Where was he going?

Where had he been going so many years ago, why had he been moving so fast, what had he been looking for? So many questions.

His head felt heavy and he leaned it back against the car and closed his eyes. Just for a minute. Just for... a few minutes.

The sun slashed across his eyes and he turned his head to avoid it, but the movement made his whole body ache. His head was one giant throbbing mess.

Sliding off the hood, Blair grabbed what was left from his twelve pack and shoved it into the back seat before getting in. He started the car but sat there for a long time, engine idling, thinking about where to go.

He remembered he'd filled his gas tank yesterday.

Three hundred and fourteen miles from home, he climbed onto a bus after mailing a letter to Jim. It contained three words: Forget about us.

The end.

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Acknowledgements: Many thanks to Blue for the fabulous cover. Thanks to Mary for the [sniffle] beta. Thanks to Patt for always being there, even if I upset her with some of my stories. Obviously, this story was inspired by a song; the lyrics are below. Will write sequel for feedback, I swear. Although, the first couple of sequels won't be happy...gonna stretch out that reunion for a while...

Forget About Us by Tim McGraw

I'm gonna drive on out to the river tonight,
Find a quiet spot, turn on my parking lights,
I'm gonna drink some beers, try to catch a buzz,
Turn my radio up, and forget about us.

I'm gonna lay me down, on the hood of this car,
Make another wish upon a falling star,
I'm gonna think again about the way it was,
I'm gonna close my eyes, and forget about us.

I know it won't be easy, but I've got a plan,
To just let my memory let go of your hand,
I'm gonna miss your touch,
But I know I must forget about us.

And when the morning sun burns across my face,
I'll put my shirt back on, get up and walk away,
I'm gonna climb my frame onto a Greyhound bus,
Take a little blue pill and forget about us.

By the time I get to Phoenix I won't know your name,
Those soft green(blue) eyes, your warm skin,
And the way you say good morning,
I'll be all right.