Jim came back with a huge bowl of chili, a smaller one of brown rice and two tiny ones of chopped onion and shredded cheese. He set them on the table and began to help himself.

Matt's laughter died. "Right. You woke up at age twenty five and realized that not only were you gay, you were in love with a married man. I'll bet that happens *all* the time."

Blair filled Matt's dish and sprinkled on some of the onion. Matt took it and stirred it with his fork. "It happens."

"Darling, we've all had crushes on married men. Have you *seen* Simon Banks?"

"James! You had a crush on Simon?"

Jim smiled. "*Years* ago. It was over before I had that *farce* with Carolyn. You have *nothing* to worry about."

Matt looked at both of them, stricken. "This isn't funny."

Blair bit his lip. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't be making fun of you. If you ever need to talk to someone about this...change in your life, we're here."

"Thanks." He took a bite of his chili. "This is *good*. Thanks for cooking veggie."

"Not a problem, darling. Eat up." Jim led by example.

"That means that we were making this anyway." Blair grinned and the conversation veered on to safer ground.

************************

"Be careful going home, Matt."

Matt waved before he got into his Saturn and sped off into the night. Jim watched him drive off, the smile on his face fading as the car disappeared around a corner.

"He's not going to make it."

Blair felt a chill. "What do you mean?"

"It's just something I *feel*. I know I tried to make it seem normal, but it simply *isn't*. I don't mean the crush on the straight guy. We *all* do that."

"Yeah. I had a crush on *you* for years." Blair grinned for a moment. "But I knew I was bi, and *you* knew you were gay when you fell for Simon."

"Yeah. This poor child...I just *hope* he doesn't try anything with Dave."

"Dave?" They walked into the building and signaled the elevator.

"Dave. He's handsome and smart and good and so completely *straight* he makes *Simon* look bi. And Matt hasn't had *time* to develop gaydar."

"What are you afraid he'll do?"

"I don't know. I don't think Matt knows. Poor baby."

"Yeah. It was hard at fifteen. It must be murder at twenty-five."

Jim nodded.

Blair settled down on the couch as soon as they entered the apartment, while Jim went to the fridge to get a couple of beers. He poured his into a glass, and handed Blair an open bottle.

He curled up next to his lover, who rested his head on Jim's chest. "I'm exhausted. I think that I'm heading up to bed and maybe sleep in tomorrow."

"Mind if I join you, angel?" Jim's voice was husky as he stroked Blair's hair.

"Just keep that up, James, and I'll fall asleep right here."

"Wouldn't be so bad..."

They quietly finished their beers. The apartment was still warm from the day and the dishes were done, and so far as they could tell, there was nothing more they could do until Monday. No reason not to drowse on the couch for a while before collapsing on the bed.

Jim made a really nice pillow, too. Maybe he would just sleep on him...

Brrring!

"Damn! Angel...wake up! I have to get to the phone. Blair..."

Blair shook his head and found the coordination to move off Jim and onto the couch.

"Ellison...Yeah, Simon?...All *day*? You *poor* thing. You should have called us...we *were* reachable...anyway...you *did*?...Names?...*Fabulous*...At this point, yeah...sure, bright and early..." Blair groaned. "Thanks, Simon...you *know* we'll get them...no, I *don't* give a damn. Okay. Good night. Blair sends his love."

Jim hung up the phone. He gathered up his glass and Blair's bottle and took them to the kitchen.

"What was that about?" Blair sat up and rubbed his eyes. He hated the way he felt after dozing off like that. It took forever to get his mind back in gear.

"Simon. He wants us in tomorrow. Poor thing says he spent the *entire* day looking at phone records and spreadsheets and it's our turn. But he found something. He has names, he has numbers. He just needs to get it all *done*."

"Yeah. He's right...it is our turn. You are going to be *so* hated." Blair got up to put his arms around him.

"I'm doing my job."

"You're doing IA's job."

"That's because *they're* not doing it. And I'm going to find out what's up with *that*, too. Angel, I'm going to *turn* CPD over."

Blair stood back and looked up. "Jim, I loved Freddie, too, but it is worth that?"

"It's not just her. It's those kids. And for God knows how many people who bled to death or died of overdoses or neglect or *whatever*. It just makes me *sick*." Jim took a breath. "Sick enough that I don't really want to be a part of this anymore."

That chill Blair had felt earlier came back, even stronger. He began to shiver. "You don't mean that, James. You *can't*."

"I'm the Sentinel, right? I'm supposed to be *taking* care this city. Sentinel of the Great City. And it's *not* just *part* of it, it's the whole place, right?"

"Yeah. That's why it makes sense you're a cop, and it makes sense you're in Major Crimes. It's the right place for you to be."

"Is it? Maybe I could do better doing something else? I'm not doing *diddly* now. And I *know* my career is *dead*."

"What...what would you do? I can't imagine you not being a cop. It's...it's part of who you *are*."

Jim looked away. "I don't know. It doesn't matter. We'll get this mess cleared up, and then...whatever happens..."

"Whatever happens, I'm with you. Right beside you."

Jim gathered Blair closely. "I know, Blair. It's what keeps me centered. I love you."

"Love you, too. Now, let's go to bed before..."

The phone rang again. This time Blair answered it, shaking his head and grinning.

"Sandburg."

"Blair, it's Dave. Dave Michaelson."

"Dave...what's up? It's after ten."

"I just got the...oddest phone call. Have you spoken to Matt Green tonight?"

"He had dinner here. He was fine when he left..."

"He was? Hmmm."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure I should say." Dave sounded very upset.

"Oh, that poor, stupid child." Jim shook his head. No secrets with Sentinel hearing.

"Dave, if you're that worried, tell me what it is. You *know* you can trust us."

Dave sighed. "You're right. My wife's taking care of the kids now, anyway." There was a pause. Blair could hear a deep breath. "Matt called about fifteen minutes ago. He asked me about the boys and their mothers and said he wanted to work with me."

"That's not so bad. He might be good."

"I...I have my doubts. He's a good man, but I haven't seen him have much rapport with the kids. And that's what I told him."

"How did he react?" Blair felt that same chill again.

"He wasn't happy, but he understood. And then..."

"Then what, Dave?"

"This is not easy." He took a deep breath. "The poor guy asked me out. Did you know he had a crush on me?"

Blair sighed. Jim covered his face. "That idiot kid. I *knew* he'd do something like this."

"We...had some idea. What did you say?" Blair felt colder.

Jim seemed to sense that. He walked over and wrapped his arms around him. Blair leaned into him gratefully.

Dave hesitated. "It...he's not the first guy to come on to me, you know? Usually, I can just be polite and it's fine. It...Matt's different."

Blair nodded and then caught himself. "Yeah. He is. Did he tell you...?"

"He said something about me being the first. That's a heavy load, you know? Damn it, Blair, I know you couldn't say anything, but I wish I had some warning!"

"You said it yourself, man. I couldn't."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted..." Blair could hear a woman's voice in the background. "Just a moment. It's all right, baby! Nothing big!" The woman's voice again. Blair couldn't make out any words, but it sounded agreeable. "Okay. So he lays this on me...I had to tell him the truth, you know?" Dave sighed.

"How'd he take it?"

"That's I'm married and I love my wife? That I have never been interested in men? How do you think? He kept trying to say it was 'only dinner', but...I sounded just that way when I was trying to get Libby to start seeing me."

"Libby?"

"My wife. He even asked if I would date him if I were free and if I were...interested. How can I know? He's a nice guy, and he's not bad looking as guys go, but...I didn't want to lie to him."

"How'd he take it?" Blair held tighter to Jim.

"I...I don't think it was good. He sounded desperate. Like he was looking for something and...hoping I could give it to him. I just tried calling him back but he wouldn't answer. I'm worried. I'm more than worried. I'm *terrified.* I'm tempted to run over there, but...you know it would make matters worse."

"You're right. We'll go." Jim was already getting the car keys out of the basket. "What's his address?" Blair wrote it down quickly, "We'll call you as soon as we can, man."

He hung up quickly and ran after Jim.

******************

"That's the third time I've tried. He's either not at home or not answering." Blair glared at his cellphone in frustration.

"Hold on, Chief. We're almost there. That should be the place now." Jim pulled up to a small house. The yard was dark, but there was a glimmer of light in an upstairs window.

Blair ran out of the truck and began pounding on the door. "Matt! Matt! Are you there?"

There was no answer. He was starting to panic. Why didn't Matt answer? That Saturn was in the driveway.

Something touched his shoulder. He jumped.

"Sorry, darling. I could hear your heart from the *truck*. First...did you try the door?"

"Jim, he's a *cop*. No cop leaves his door unlocked."

"Try it."

Blair shot him a look, but turned the knob. The door opened. "This is bad."

Jim nodded.

"Can you hear him?" Blair put a hand on Jim's arm. Jim closed his eyes.

"He's upstairs. And he doesn't sound good." He broke free and ran up to the second floor. Blair followed him, turning on the hall light before he did.

"Oh, dear Lord! Blair, call an ambulance *now*. He's in the bathroom and he's lost a lot of blood."

"His wrists?"

"Yeah. Darling, *don't* come in here. It's *not* pretty."

Blair called emergency and gave the information. He couldn't resist looking, but was sorry he did.

Matt was lying, pale and unconscious, in the bathtub, in a pool of his own blood. Jim was trying to staunch the flow from long, shallow cuts down each arm, but it was soaking through the towels.

"James...do...should..."

"You do *not* need to see this, babycakes. Go downstairs, and wait for the ambulance. And see if you can find *anything*...a note, *something*."

"You sure...I could take care of one arm..."

"Go! I don't want to worry about you, too." Blair went. Five minutes later, the EMTs arrived and ran upstairs to take charge. Jim, who was covered in blood, came down stairs to join Blair. "No room for *all* of us in that bathroom...even *if* the guy *is* adorable."

"James..."

"I'm sorry. It's just...difficult."

"Will he be all right?"

"His heart was still beating. That's all I can say. He did a *number* on his arms - he may have gotten some tendons in his right one. Did you find anything?"

"I haven't really started looking...there's something on his kitchen table." Something white on the kitchen table. Blair walked into the dark room and turned on the light. There were two notes. One had a thumbtack in it.

"'Die, faggot, Die.'" Jim's voice was filled with disgust.

"'If you don't do it yourself, we'll find a way to do it. Fag Ellison can't stop us, and he's next...him and his boyfriend. Do it...we'll all be better off.'" Jim, who had been holding it with his silk handkerchief, carefully put the letter back down on the table, and clenched his hands. Blair could feel the anger vibrating through the air.

"What does yours say, Chief?"

"'They're right. No one wants me. Better off this way. I'm sorry, Dave.'" Blair had to fight to keep from crumpling that paper. He did as Jim had, carefully putting it down. It was evidence.

"We have to call Dave, you know."

Jim nodded. "I am *not* looking forward to that. I'll do it now, before we go to the hospital."

He fished in his soaked pants for his cellphone. It was sticky with blood. He grimaced as he dialed Dave's number. It didn't take long to give him the bad news, and to promise to keep him appraised. Blair, meanwhile, found some ziplock bags to hold the letters. They weren't going to let anyone else get hold of this evidence.

They were debating if they should call Simon when the EMTs came down stairs with a well-wrapped Matt. Jim insisted on riding with the ambulance to the hospital, while Blair followed with the truck. By the time he arrived, Jim's clothes were bagged and he was in a set of scrubs, washing his hands thoroughly.

"How is he?"

"They're working on him now, but they're not saying anything. Did you call Simon?"

"No, but we should. He can get in touch with Matt's boss and call his next of kin. If he has any. I didn't see any family pictures in his house."

Jim nodded. "And if his boss even *cares*. Where are the notes?"

"In my jacket. Here." Blair pulled them out to show him. "I'm not letting these go."

"Good. You have any change? Can't use cellphones in hospitals."

Blair nodded and gave Jim a couple of quarters.

He found a seat in the waiting area, but as soon as he sat down, he was on his feet again, and pacing.

"Slow down, Chief. It's *not* going to get anything done faster." He wrapped his arm around Blair. "I reached Simon. He's calling Hart for us, and he said the case will be ours. Any word?"

"No. Nothing. How many more lives are these guys going to ruin, Jim?" Blair broke away and hugged himself.

Go to Part Nine.