He walked into the loft, expecting the cold, empty rooms he'd left behind. Instead, he stood in the doorway and stared. Every stick of furniture had been replaced, and most of it almost in the right place. It would only take a little moving and pushing to get things right again. Even Blair's things, the things he'd packed in those boxes, the boxes that made him cringe, were more or less where they belonged. It was almost a home again.

The only thing that was missing was Blair. He'd been Jim's home for years now. He'd just hadn't let himself know that. This was just a familiar place where they'd lived. Even so, it was good to have as it used to be.

But it might not be able to stay like this. He didn't know what Blair would need when he returned. At the least, he'd have to improve the accessability of some things. He didn't even know if Blair could *walk*. It didn't matter, though. Whatever Blair needed, he would get.

Two hours later, showered, shaved and in clean clothes and after running a couple of errands, Jim was back at the hospital. He'd been called when the tests were finished and Blair was settled into his new room.

"Hey, Jim." Blair smiled wearily and lifted an arm in greeting. "I almost need a machete to get to you, Chief. Look at all these plants." He kissed Blair lightly on the lips.

"I could open a flower shop. And a toy store. Look." Using his whole arm, he indicated a collection of teddy bears. "They're from everyone. People from the university, cops, people we've met along the way. I can't get over it."

"I'm not surprised, Angel. Everyone's just happy you're still with us. Here. Something else for the toy store."

"Another bear?"

Jim shook his head and handed the new toy to Blair. Blair's eyes widened. "A stuffed wolf! Oh, God. How did you know...You've been having visions again. Tell me about them." Meanwhile, he awkwardly cuddled the beast.

Jim was about to do as Blair asked when an orderly came to the door.

"Are you Mr. Ellison?"

"Yeah."

"Can you see Dr. Glasser now?"

"I don't know..."

"Go, Jim. I'm exhausted after those tests. I'll just take a nap." He settled down into the bed, the wolf still in his arms. Moments later, he was fast asleep.

"I guess I can go." The orderly led him to an office a few doors away, and let him in.

"Mr. Ellison? I'm Marc Glasser." The doctor stretched out his hand, and Jim clasped it firmly. Glasser was in his forties, with a Cowardly Lion mane of graying dark curls and a matching short beard.

"Good to meet you, Dr. Glasser."

"Marc." He gestured to a sitting area.

"Jim." Jim sat on a chair. Glasser took the couch perpendicular to it.

"Jim, I asked you here for a reason. Blair's chart says that you live together."

"We're roommates, if that's what you mean."

"You're more than roommates."

"Doc, is that any of your business?" Jim made as if to rise from the chair.

"Yeah, it is, in that it affects my patient and his treatment. What I'm about to say to you is what I would say to Blair's wife if he had one."

"Never thought of myself as anyone's *wife* before." He grinned.

"Does it bother you?"

Jim thought for a moment. "No. It doesn't. So, what would you tell the mythical Mrs. Sandburg?"

"First - we conducted a long series of tests on Blair today. I expect he's exhausted."

"The kid was fast asleep when I left his room. How did they go?"

"Fairly well. You know that hypoxia causes a more global brain damage? No specific area of the brain is affected?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Blair woke up this morning with very blurred speech. As the day wore on, it improved dramatically." Jim nodded. "There is still a slight blurring, but it would take an expert to hear it, and I expect that to be gone by tomorrow. On the other hand, his attention span is still very short. This made testing somewhat difficult, since we had to keep telling him to focus. He was willing to extend the effort, however. Blair said that he has always been easily distracted, but he's learned to cope."

"So this won't be a problem?"

"Time will tell. Blair is extremely intelligent, which helps in these situations. Actually, it always helps." He smiled. "Physically, Blair has several deficits, both mild and severe, all relating to motor control. He's already regained a lot of control over his arms and legs, and he should be able to walk supported in a day or so. The sooner, the better, of course."

Jim nodded. "Don't want his muscles losing tone."

"That's part of it. We also want to be able to start making new neural pathways for those functions that were damaged. To continue. He has little or no fine motor control in his hands or his feet. The feet will be easier, but he will have to learn to balance and walk all over again. Eventually, he should have full mobility."

Jim nodded. "What about his hands?"

"Those will take longer, but with therapy, I'm hopeful that he will regain full functionality."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that we believe Blair will regain enough use of his hands and fingers to be able to do pretty much anything."

"But he won't get everything back?"

"We don't know. He may need to change the way he does certain things, but given time, therapy and some adaptation, he should be fine."

"Blair is adaptable."

"And that's another plus. His therapy will have two goals. One is to train him to use what he has *now* to take care of himself and do what he needs. The other is to increase what he has as much as possible. The therapist thinks that he should at least get control of his wrist and thumbs shortly."

"Would that be enough?"

"With the right equipment, Blair should be able to manage quite well."

"That's good."

"Now, we come to you." Glasser looked straight at Jim.

"What about me?"

"Jim, Blair is going to be here for several weeks at the very least. And I can see right now that you're planning to take a leave of absence and spend your all your time here, helping him or keeping him company."

"You got that right, Doc."

"Don't. Go back to work. See Blair as often as possible, of course. We'll make you part of his therapy, and you'll get some training, too, for when he gets home, but you have to live your own life."

"Blair *is* my life."

Glasser sighed. "Jim, you need to take care of yourself. That's the best way to help Blair. He will need you when he goes home, and he needs to know now that you aren't just waiting for him." "You sure?"

"Jim...go to work again. If you can manage it, at least part time. Get out of the hospital. Go to a Jags game. Go out with friends."

"Without Blair?"

Glasser smiled. "Do your best." He stood up. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Jim. We'll be talking often, I think."

Jim shook his hand again. "Take care of Blair for me, Marc. He's special."

"He is, indeed." He walked Jim to the door.

The doctor was right. By working part time at the station and taking some evenings to himself - with Blair's blessing - he could be that much better with Blair. The days fell into a rhythm. In the mornings, he'd go to the station and do desk work. Occasionally, he'd go out with Megan as his partner. Since she now knew about his senses, she could keep him from zoning out. She wasn't Blair - no one was - but she was enough.

The afternoons were for Blair. He'd comb and braid Blair's hair; serve as a goal for Blair to walk or swim to;and deliver whatever books, magazines or notes Blair needed. Blair was trying to write his dissertation by talking into a tape recorder. It was a couple of weeks before he could handle a pen, even with a special holder, and typing was out of the question. He could only bear to work on it for a few minutes at a time, but he managed by writing *another* dissertation - the one on closed societies. He kept two recorders to keep them straight. And, of course, they kissed whenever they got the chance. By unspoken agreement, they would not do more than kiss until Blair came home.

The nights were for himself. He sometimes spent them watching TV with Blair, and sometimes he went out with people from work, but he spent many of them modifying the loft.

Blair's therapy went rapidly in the first few weeks. Every time Jim came it, it seemed like Blair had something new to show him.

"Jim - look!" And there he'd be - standing without support. Which, of course, earned him a kiss.

"Jim - look!" He walked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, all by himself across a room.

"Jim - look!" He carefully lifted his arm in the air and bent his wrists back and forth.

"Jim - look!" He wiggled both thumbs in triumph.

His therapist, a woman named Sharon with a mountain of red curls tumbling her shoulders, began to really train him then. She gave him holders with rings because he couldn't grip at all, and taught him to use them to write and to feed himself.

One day, Jim came in to find Blair combing his own hair with a specially modified comb.

"I thought that was my job, Chief." He felt vaguely disappointed.

Blair looked distraught. "Oh, God, Jim. I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. I'll miss it, though."

"I'm still working on braiding it. And you better not stop taking care of it. I love the feeling of your hands in my hair. And, Jim...next time, bring in my laptop. Sharon's going to show me how to type." Blair was grinning again.

"Good. Then you'll have your games to distract you, too."

"Not distract. Just an extra task."

After six weeks, though, things leveled off. Blair could mostly take care of himself. He could balance on the balls of his feet and walk fairly quickly, although he needed a little support. He could even climb stairs. He couldn't run, though. He lost his balance too quickly without the extra support of his toes. That would come with time.

Using the ring holders and a lot of patience, Blair could feed himself and write legibly if slowly. He was even able to cook fairly well, although some packaging was beyond him and he couldn't disjoint chickens yet. He couldn't touch type, but there were voice programs he could use, and he was getting better at using two sticks velcro'd to his hands. He could take care of his own hygiene, too, which was a tremendous relief to him. Sharon had even found masculine looking clips so that he could fasten his hair back himself. He could have cut it but Jim was disappointed at the idea and Sharon pointed out that they'd never ask a woman to do that.

All this had been true a week earlier, but now he seemed stalled. Jim could see how frustrated he was. He'd been trying to eat with the oversized handles instead of the rings for two weeks now, and maybe got one mouthful in ten.

"I'm really going home, big guy?" Blair's smile was brilliant as Jim held his hands.

"Yes. Tonight."

"But I'll still see you tomorrow, Blair." Sharon grinned.

"So long as I get to sleep in my own bed, I'm happy." *His* bed? Jim blinked, and then he saw Blair's face.

"Maybe more than sleep, angel."

"Guys, do this on your own time."

The staff had gotten used to the two of them. Blair managed to conquer the two biggest homophobes to the point that one, a scrawny little orderly, had informed Jim that if he didn't treat Blair right, the orderly would hurt him badly.

"And I don't care how big you are, neither."

Jim solemnly promised to treat Blair like gold.

"Yeah, well, you better. Or I'll find out." And the little man walked away muttering imprecations against faggots who didn't treat guys right and how he'd just blow them away.

It took a little while to get Blair out. Not only did he need to shower and dress - all by himself - but the entire Neuro wing had to say goodbye. They even had to wait while night shift people came in.

And then he had to go to the children's floor. It seems Blair had become storyteller-in-chief almost from the first day, when he had to enlist a child to turn pages.

"You'll come back to see us, right Blair?"

Blair made his own solemn promise that he'd stop by every day after therapy. And he'd have more stories of the wolf and the jaguar, too.

"Wolf and jaguar, Chief?"

"Yeah. There's this knight, you see. He's the jaguar. And his squire is the wolf, and they fight battles all over the galaxy."

"What sort of battles?"

"Drugs, bad guys, killers...you know."

"Sandburg, what are you telling them?"

"Nothing...Sir James." And he kissed Jim.

Jim kept a close watch on Blair's face when they entered the loft together.

"Oh God, Jim! What did you do?"

"I redecorated a little. What do you think?"

"You put up another bannister?"

"Well, me and the guys, but yeah." It had taken a week, but he was truly proud of it. It looked like it had been built *with* the house.

"Where are the area rugs?"

"Stored away. I like the bare floor." There was also less for Blair to trip over.

Blair wandered towards the kitchen.

"This is amazing! New knobs on the cabinets, new faucet handles...and all this equipment."

"Needed a change." The knobs and fixtures were larger and could be opened and operated with the side of a hand. And Sharon had suggested the cooking equipment that would let Blair continue to be a gourmet cook despite everything.

He went into the bathroom.

"You changed stuff in here, too. You must have been up at all hours."

"I had plenty of help, Chief. And you are worth every effort. Besides, I like the new look."

"What else did you do? My room... Jim, it's wonderful."

"A professor needs a study. I've already had your special software installed on the computer, and all your equipment is there - even two tape recorders. You could get to work tomorrow if you wanted to."

"I don't believe it. Why?"

"Because I love you and this is your home. And a man should be able to live in his home without needing extra help."

"Oh, God, Jim. I love you!" The next thing Jim knew, he had an armful of Blair. He held him close to his chest and nuzzled his hair. Nothing had ever felt so right.

And then Blair began to kiss him, first gently and then passionately. As usual, Jim began to lose himself in those kisses. Blair led them to the couch, where Jim gathered Blair into his lap and Blair continued to kiss him wherever he could find skin, although Jim's mouth was his favorite spot. Jim responded with all the love and need he'd built up in those past weeks, in those past years.

Blair must have felt his arousal because he chuckled. "I think it's time we took this party upstairs, lover." Jim glanced at Blair's lap. Oh, yes. Blair was ready, too.

"You want a ride, angel?"

"Not this time. I'll walk." He slithered off Jim's lap after a final kiss and, resting his fists on both bannisters, walked upstairs without a bobble.

Jim followed him, his mouth suddenly dry as a bone.

He found Blair sitting on the bed, unvelcro'ing his sneakers.

"Need any help, Chief?"

"I got it, Jim. Undressing is one of my major skills." Once upon a time, Jim might have fantasized about Blair slowly undressing in front of him. Now, though, he swiftly removed his own clothing while watching his lover. Blair wore loose pull- over shirts and elastic waist sweatpants. By pressing his thumbs against the side of his forefingers, he managed to hold on to his clothing as needed. He was undressed almost as quickly as Jim. He lay back on the bed. At that sight, Jim not only was nervous, he was hard as a rock. Blair was...

"Beautiful. I can't believe how beautiful you are." He was perfectly proportioned. All that therapy had built muscles, just visible beneath a layer of soft, dark curls that were thickest at his chest and groin. And there, in that fur, was Blair's penis. The monster was pointing straight up and it was glistening as Blair smiled at him.

"Look who's talking. I need to get my mouth on that skin of yours. I've been dreaming of doing that *forever*, Jim."

"Chief...Blair...I don't know how to say....Blair, I've never had sex with a man before."

Blair sat up. "Jim, if we're going too fast..."

"No. No. I want this. I've dreamed of this. I've wanted men, Blair. I just never *acted* on it before. You were the first man I kissed, and now you'll be the first man who'll..."

"Jim...I'll guide you through this, but I've only been on top." Jim's penis jumped. "That's what I want. I want you to make love to me, to be *in* me."

"Oh, yes. Yes. Come here." Blair opened his arms and Jim entered them. Something inside of him relaxed for the first time in years, or perhaps the first time ever. He was in Blair's arms and that was where he was supposed to be.

He began to kiss and taste Blair, covering his face and working his way down that perfect body, stopping only to nuzzle the thick patch of fur in the middle of his chest. He smelled of Blair and soap and lust and Jim found himself getting drunk on it.

Meanwhile, Blair was stroking his back, the clumsy hands surprisingly light and gentle.

Jim sucked on Blair's nipples.

"Yes, oh yes!"

"You like that, Angel?"

"I like everything you do, big guy."

Jim gently sucked, kissed and tasted his way to Blair's monster. Jim had fantasized about touching and tasting another man his entire life. Blair had been his fantasy in the last few years. He'd always tried to imagine how it would feel to hold another man in his mouth. He glanced at Blair, who grinned and lay back. Jim tried to swallow him whole.

It stretched his mouth, but he found room to move his tongue and to suck, to move his head back and forth. It felt like silk and tasted like Blair. It filled him in a way in which he'd never dreamed. Then, it was gone and he was empty.

"Roll over, Jim." Blair's voice was hoarse.

Jim rolled on his stomach, carefully adjusting himself over his own hardness. Blair dragged a pillow over to him.

"Here, lover. Under your hips. We need to do this right." Jim found another pillow for his head. His mouth was dry and his heart beat rapidly.

"Don't worry, big guy. This is going to be good. We won't do anything that doesn't feel good."

"I know." Jim spoke into his arms.

"I wish I could rub your back." Before Jim could reply, he felt a rain of kisses on his shoulders, sending shivers up and down his spine. Blair went progressively lower until he reached Jim's cleft.

"Jim, bend your knees outward, like you were riding a horse." Jim complied. He knew he was exposed to Blair view now.

And then he felt Blair's tongue on his anus and he was lost again. He rode waves of pure sensation, centered on the actions of that tongue. And then...it was also gone. Jim moaned. "Jim, do we have any..."

"In...the night stand..."

Blair found the lube and condoms.

"I need some help here." At Blair's direction, Jim squeezed a big dollop of lubricant onto Blair's fingers. Blair packed most of it into Jim, and then he began to press his thumb against the sphincter. Jim moaned again and sighed as he felt Blair's thumb enter him and then move, stretching him. Then came the other thumb. Once again, just as he reveled in the feeling, they were gone.

"Jim...I'm sorry..." Blair knelt in front of him and indicated a condom packet. Jim opened it and rolled it on his lover, and coated it with more lube. Then, at Blair's direction, he lay on his side facing away.

Jim could feel the head of the penis at his entrance, which had tightened again.

"It's okay, Jim...tell me if it hurts..."

"Doesn't...ohh, Blair...."

Blair insisted and he relented. Jim surrendered to Blair as Blair filled him. This was it, this was what he'd wanted all of his life, if only he'd known it.

"Oh, man, you feel so good, so tight, so hot..."

Blair changed the angle slightly. Jim gasped as pleasure jolted through him and he thrust himself up to meet Blair again.

Time ceased to have meaning as Jim lost himself yet again in sensation. There was only the feel of Blair in him and next to him and the sound of Blair's voice and the odor of their lust and the movement and the lingering taste of Blair in his mouth and Blair was moving faster and harder and holding him and the jolts came and went and came and...

Blair stopped the pounding and began to jerk back and forth and collapsed on the bed, one arm draped over Jim.

He lay there for a long moment, until Jim rolled to face him. Carefully, Jim removed the condom.

Blair smiled. "Let's take care of you, handsome."

"You have energy left? *I'm* exhausted, and I haven't even...haven't...oh, baby, that feels incredible." Blair had him in his mouth. Jim twined his hands in Blair's sweaty curls. It didn't take long for him to explode; he was more than ready. He could taste himself in Blair's kiss as he gathered his lover to his chest. He must have swallowed it all.

"So beautiful..."

"...love you, James Ellison..."

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