"Victory!" Blair walked into the loft, grinning broadly and fists clenched in triumph. Five years ago, he'd have bounced in, but five years ago, he wouldn't have been wearing a cadet's uniform. Jim waved to him from the couch, both phones and his notebook hidden from Blair's sight.

"I take it you had a good day, Chief." He had to smile back. "Defeating the academy again?"

"Oh, yeah, man. I have won the battle and the war for equal rights." He turned to hang his cap on one of the hooks, displaying a neat doubled ponytail.

"You're keeping your hair?" Jim wasn't sure this was good or not.

"I don't know yet, but it's now my choice, not some sexist bureaucrat or mindless rules.

Why should only women get to keep their hair any length they want?"

Jim, having heard all this before, just chuckled and stretched. "You want to make dinner tonight? I'm beat."

"So not a problem. I'm so wired, I could fly!" He disappeared into his room, where Jim could hear the whisper of cheap cotton and polyester onto plastic hangers. Moments later, he reappeared. This was the Blair he knew - old jeans, a faded flannel shirt over a newish t-shirt, and his hair back in a normal tail. "Stirfry okay? I think we have some chicken in the freezer."

"Sounds good to me. Or we could just order in."

"Nah." Blair took a couple of chicken filets out of the freezer and put them in the microwave to thaw. Then he pulled out half the vegetable drawer and started to chop. "Want me to tell you how I slew the regulations?"

"Lay it on me, Chief."

And Blair was off, chopping, slicing and grating, filling the air with scent of hot oil, ginger and soy sauce, all the while quoting the entire battle word for word and with commentary, and not expecting any replies from Jim.

For his part, Jim let the tide of words, sounds and scents wash over him. He'd spent a large part of his afternoon making appointments - and the thought of those appointments made his skin itch. He took advantage of Blair's preoccupation to check his notebook again, to make sure he got all the times straight - and to wonder when he was going to have time to do anything at the station.

"Jim! Jim! Dinner's ready." Jim tucked his notebook into the couch as inconspicuously as he could, and got up to set the table.

~~~

Jim crept into the station, extending his senses for signs of his captain - the sound of his breathing, the scent of expensive coffee - anything at all. The coast being clear, he walked over to his desk, placing his bag of burgers and coffee carefully among the clutter of papers, both official and not.

And there, on the monitor was a neon pink sticky note. "Ellison, soon as I come in, your ass is mine. Banks."

He clearly did not mean that in a good way. Jim looked forlornly at the growing pile of reports and casefiles, picked up his lunch and crept out of the office. His skin itched even more.

~~~
"Yes, I'll have all the necessary materials tomorrow at 1PM. See you then. Good evening." He put down the cordless and picked up his notebook to make a checkmark before going to stir the chili. Just as he was adding a touch more black pepper to the pot, the phone rang.

"Jim! Finally! Who have you been talking to all evening?" Blair's voice was nearly drowned out by background noise.

"Never mind, Chief. Where are you?" He juggled the phone and his spoon.

"I'm at a bar with some of my classmates - we killed in the obstacle course. Just killed! Want to come join us?" And Jim could hear young voices singing, offkey, about being the Champions of the World.

"I made dinner. When you coming home?" He turned the flame off as he spoke. He knew all the signs.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I'll come home right now if you want."

He knew Blair would. He knew it like he knew he'd be eating alone tonight. "Forget it, Sandburg. This is something you need to be doing. Have fun. Just not too much fun." He made himself smile, knowing Blair could hear it.

"No worries on that score. I got a pocket full of car keys right now. Don't wait up!" Just before the phone clicked, Jim heard, "Guys, I'm staying!"

Then he put the phone down, fixed himself a bowl of chili and rice, and opened a bottle of beer. When he was finished, he washed up and wrapped up everything, sat down at his table and picked up the phone.

"Hi, dad? I owe you big for this."

He fell asleep at the table, phone buzzing in his ear. He refused to tell Blair why when he came in..

He was starting to get welts.

~~~

"Can you believe it, Jim? In one week, I, Blair Sandburg will be an actual, for-real cop. 'This is Officer Sandburg, ma'am.'" Blair paced around the loft, gathering his supplies for the day.

"Do...Detective Sandburg is more like it." Jim caught himself. He took a sip of his fourth cup of coffee for the morning. "Remember, you already have the shield. And the background."

"Yeah! Full partner! Respect! And I won'tneed to wear this cap!" Blair positioned it carefully on his head. Jim thought he'd miss the cap, but he'd never tell Blair that. "Today, I'm doing ride along with some uniforms. Maybe they'll let me arrest someone!" He grabbed his backpack and ran out the door, leaving an empty loft.

Jim poured himself another cup of coffee before straightening his tie and pulling on a jacket. His first meeting of the day was in twenty minutes.

~~~

"What the hell is going on with you, Ellison?"

"Nothing, sir." Jim stood in front of Simon's desk, holding onto the conference table behind him for support.

"Don't give me that. I know you too well. You're not sleeping, you come in late, leave early, and I never know where you are."

"Sir."

Simon sighed. "Jim, I had to give half your cases away, and at least two of them have turned stone cold."

"Sir." Jim knew. It burned as badly as his skin, but it had to be this way.

"I'm going to have to put you on suspension if you don't say anything."

He shrugged, not looking at his captain.

"Great." Simon clenched his hands. "Give me your gun, Jim, and your badge." He sat up, clearly wanting to try again. "Think about Blair. He'll be getting his own badge for real in a couple of days, and you won't be here? Think about your partner!"

Jim never stopped thinking about him, not for one moment, waking or sleeping. This was part of the price he knew he might have to pay. "Sir." He handed his piece and badge to his other best friend and, wordlessly, walked to his desk and began to put his unofficial papers into a box.

He didn't say goodbye to anyone as he left, but he could feel their stares.

~~~

"What the hell are you thinking, Jim? It's all over the Academy, all over the station. You're missing cases, you've been suspended, you're...what is wrong with you?"

Jim sat on the couch, holding yet another cup of coffee. He let Blair's voice wash over him.

"God almighty, say something, dammit! You don't even talk to me anymore. And Simon! Simon's washing his hands of you. Jim, I'm supposed to be your partner, and I know I'm your friend. What's with the secrets?"

His hands hurt. He put the coffee down and started to rub them. He looked at his watch.

"I'm graduating tomorrow. Will they even let you be there? This is one of the biggest days of my life, Ellison. I need you there."

Blair's hair had come loose. It spilled around his uniform shoulders, making him look like a kid playing dress-up. He tossed it back. "Answer me. You have to say something."

The phone rang, making Blair jump halfway across the loft.

"Ellison."

"Mr. Ellison, I'm happy to say your efforts have paid off..." The voice on the other side sounded relieved. Jim took the phone into Blair's bedroom, and listened carefully.

When he came back to the living room, Blair was tearing at his hair. "What the hell is going on? And why are you smiling like that?"

"If I were doing this right, you'd change and we'd go someplace decent for dinner, with champagne."

"James Ellison..."

Jim grinned. His face hurt but he grinned anyway. "It's what I've been doing while you were at the Academy. Sit down." He gestured towards the couch, and joined him there. "It's the phone calls and meetings - Blair, I've called in favors from everyone, pulled every string I could find, and every string my father and brother could find, too. I went on my knees to some of these people, and...hid from Simon...but it's all worth it."

"What is worth it? Jim, what have you been doing?"

"Just getting your career back. Doctor Sandburg." Jim sat back on the couch, ready to bask in the triumph and Blair's joy.

"You...you...you...IDIOT!" He grabbed Jim's t-shirt with both hands. "What were you doing? If you've jeopardized things with the department..."

"That doesn't matter anymore. Don't you get it? I ruined things for you, so I made it better. You can teach again, you can go on expeditions."

"And when people find out you're a sentinel again? Then what? Is all this wasted?" Blair relaxed his grip.

"No one knows. I told them it was a composite, which meant it wasn't a lie, but it was still dangerous, so they're not publishing it. And it. It took some convincing and some money. You can start next semester, if you really want. Doctor Sandburg."

Blair took a deep breath, and looked into Jim's eyes. "You idiot." He smiled. "Jim, I'm doing what I want to do. I was...academia was feeling like a borrowed costume. I...it...we didn't fit. I hated being in the classroom. I hated the politics - and I know cops have politics, but compared to academia, they're nothing. This - Jim, I'm flying. I feel like I have wings, that I can really, finally, do things. I'm meant to be a cop, not a professor. Don't take away my wings."

"You'd still be my ride-along."

"Then you'd leave me with one wing, neither one or the other. I can't do that. I'm free." He squeezed Jim's shoulder. "I'm happy."

"What about...what about all those years you spent in school? Aren't they all wasted now?" He grasped at anything. He rubbed his hands together.

"Learning's never wasted. I've been using it everyday since I started working with you, and I'm not going to stop. Besides."

"Besides?"

Blair licked his lips, never taking his eyes away. "Besides, everything I've done has led me here. To you. My entire journey has been to this moment. Nothing can change that. I love you, Jim, and this is how it was meant to be." He smiled and leaned in closer.

And Jim heard his voice, finally, instead of letting it wash over him, and what he heard made other things make sense, and he brought their mouths together. Blair's lips were soft and skilled, and soon his tongue was probing at Jim's mouth, and Blair's hair was soft as feathers against Jim's cheek.

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