Forever Blue: Part 3

by Sweeneybird

I'm afraid to let go of him, to break the fragile bond between us. He's sitting on the floor, exhausted, leaning back against the couch where I collapsed as soon as we got home. His curls tangle with the hair on my arm. My left hand rests on his shoulder, gently kneading as I revel in the contact. The poor bastard - even as he leans into my touch, okay, *caress*, I can feel the waves of anger radiating off him, pulsing in time with the throbbing of my leg. "Chief?"

"You suck, Jim," he says flatly. "You've got these senses, you're a good detective, and you can't see shit."

"See what?" I push my good leg against the arm of the couch and force myself up to a semi-reclining position. Sandburg moves with me, sliding to his left to maintain contact. Now my hand drifts forward from his shoulder. I move it around him so my arm encircles his neck in a combination hug and headlock. He hooks his fingers over my forearm as I move the back of my thumb lightly against his neck, repeating, "Chief?"

"I did it for you, Jim. Everything. Gave it all up, took the disgrace, even went to the goddamn Academy. For you. For _your_ comfort. _Your_ safety. _Your_ happiness. For you." He slumps and leans back, the crown of his head nestling into the junction between the cushion and my ribs. Absently he turns, reaches up and rubs my knee with his free hand. "And you just... TOOK it. No 'thanks', no acknowledgment of what I did, what it cost me. You just took it and withdrew."

"BULLSHIT." I move abruptly, swinging my legs around so that I'm sitting upright. Fuck - my knee bangs against the coffee table. I hiss but Sandburg's on his feet and easing my leg straight before I get the chance to really experience the pain. He gently massages my knee as he repeats, "Dials, Jim, easy." I exhale slowly and concentrate on his fingers, imagining them pushing the pain away with every stroke. As my heartbeat slows, I reach for him again.

"Is that what you really think, Sandburg?" I capture his hand between my palms, savoring the warmth and friction as I catalogue each callus, willing my touch to express what my words can't.

"I know it, Jim. I know you." He lowers himself to the floor again and rests his cheek against my thigh just above my knee.

My head starts to thrum painfully in time with my knee. "Chief..."

"Tell me you didn't push me away. Tell me you're not happier with no one knowing about you. Look at me, Jim - tell me *this* isn't okay with you." He sits up wearily and flaps his hand back and forth in the space between us.

"It wasn't like that. You gave up so much, everything..." I whisper.

His eyes soften as I clench my jaw. "C'mon man, tell me," he urges.

I raise my gaze over his head, staring sightlessly out the windows. "You threw away everything you loved for me. Everything. It was too much, Chief. I couldn't just, I had to pull back to show you, to..."

"...to let me know you didn't ask for it, didn't want it, yeah, I GET it, Jim." I look back down to see tired eyes now, gray and defeated.

"NO!" I roar. "You idiot, that's not it at all!" Use your fucking brain, Sandburg - I can't explain this right. "I had to show you I understood, had to give you the same gift. Show you that I'd do anything, sacrifice... But what I love most, Chief - it IS you."

He blinks. His face impassive, he says, "So to show me that you love me..."

"...I had to give you up." My cheeks warm as I mumble, "I didn't say it makes sense." I stare at my hands as the utter ridiculousness of the situation sinks in. His breathing hitches and his heart rate speeds up slightly. As I feel the tremor of his hand in mine, I raise my eyes to face his derision. His choked laughter cuts the silence.

Along with my heart, time seems to stop. He's shifting forward on his knees, too-bright eyes filled with the smile I haven't seen since before the press conference. "You... ginormous... dumbass..." he breathes, moving still closer. "Please tell me that this was instinctive, man, because if you actually reasoned this out..."

"No, Blair, no..." I don't know if I'm answering his question or trying to stop his advance. He laughs again and I can't move, can't breathe, because it's Blair, MY Blair, laughing. Then time speeds up again as it becomes my Blair breathing my air, tasting my mouth, devouring me. And I'm devouring him.

Finally we slow, parting only far enough to gasp for much needed breath. I can feel the heat beneath his skin matching my own and I softly kiss him. "You suck, Jim?" he teases and I feel the weight lifting from my heart.


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