Blair yawned at the touch of the flight attendant waking him for touchdown to Vegas, waking slowly. It had only been a three hour flight, but he’d been up for thirty-six hours straight and being in one place for longer than ten minutes meant he zonked out automatically. Straightening both seat and self, Blair groaned at the pull of sore muscles and vowed, once again, to Just Say No when Jim told him, “C’mon, Sandburg, it’s just a stake out. What could go wrong?”

“Are you okay?” the woman next to him asked.

Offering the older woman a wan smile, Blair nodded and said, “I will be after a hot shower, thanks. Rough day.”

And it had been. Jim had managed to not only get roped into taking part in a stakeout that had gone way long, but had ended with a bang. Literally. The warehouse they’d been watching had gone up in a massive explosion, sending their truck ass over teakettle. Blair had come out of it with only a couple of cracked ribs and a bruised cheek from where Jim’s fist had accidentally clocked him. Jim, who’d naturally been in the driver’s seat, had a severe concussion from whacking his head against the steering wheel and the window.

After insisting that Blair go to his symposium, Jim hadn’t put up a fuss at staying with Simon until he got back. Blair snorted as he thought, He’s probably hoping that being wounded in the line will keep him out of the doghouse for almost making me miss any of this.

Blair had been waiting the better part of a year for the ‘Cultural Exchange Symposium’ to happen and had been involved in it almost from the start. There would be lectures on all manner of topics from the scientific to the naturopathic to the shamanistic, not to mention the straight-up cultural and historical lectures. They’d basically taken over one of the hotels there were so many attendees from all over the world. If Blair had missed it, any of it, Jim would’ve been in the doghouse indefinitely.

When he clambered off the plane, backpack in place, Blair stumbled sleepily towards the main thoroughfare. He actually had a suitcase, since he was going to be there for ten days, and so went down to the luggage carousels before heading out to the taxi area. It was something of a shock to find a towne car waiting with a driver holding a sign with his name. Blair blinked fuzzily a couple of times and then walked over and said, “Hey, man. That’s me.”

The driver frowned, taking in the jeans, the bruised face, the long hair braided back, and then looked him askance. “Can I see some ID?”

Blair half-grinned at the assumption, but dug out his wallet. That, of course, was the driver’s first clue that he really was Dr. Blair Sandburg. By the time Blair handed over his license, the guy looked resigned to being tipless for questioning his identity.

“Let me take those for you sir,” he offered, gesturing to backpack and suitcase.

Blair was tired enough not to argue and handed over both. It was just gone six p.m., local time, and he had just enough energy to get to the hotel, eat something, check in with Sasha, check in with Jim, and then collapse for the rest of the night.

He actually dozed on the twenty minute drive to the hotel, jolting awake at the driver opening the door for him. Groaning at the resulting ache in his ribs, Blair took a moment and then climbed out of the car. He fished out a ten and gave it to the driver, saying, “Here you go.”

The guy looked surprised to get anything and replied, “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your stay.”

Blair smiled at him and then shouldered his backpack carefully, mindful of his ribs.

The bellhop, a college-aged kid, hurried over and took the suitcase then offered, “Can I help you with that, sir?”

“Sure, why not?” Blair replied, letting it drop to the crook of his elbow and holding it out.

They went inside and he stood in line to get checked-in, giving the kid a few dollars for the help in. His eyes drooped as the line slowly moved and he shuffled forward with the rest of the crowd. He’d been standing there almost ten minutes when someone called his name. Blair turned to find Sasha rushing towards him, her expression something like horrified joy.

Holding up a hand so she wouldn’t hug him, he explained ruefully, “Stakeout gone very wrong. I have a couple of cracked ribs, so please, no hugging.”

“No, that’s not, I mean ow, but why are you waiting to check in? You’re a VIP, Blair!” Sasha exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, still looking mildly horrified. Shorter than him with red, red hair, she actually reminded him a lot of his mother only less flighty. “Come with me.”

He allowed her to take the suitcase since it had wheels, but re-shouldered his backpack since it was loaded down with books and his laptop. At least until she summoned a bellhop who took control of both items.

Sasha ordered, “Suite 7110. Blair, I know you must be exhausted, but you absolutely have to talk to Ling Mi and Reya before you collapse. There’s a massive problem with the seating chart for the opening banquet tomorrow night.”

Blair groaned. “We got clearance from everyone on that damn thing. Sasha. I love you dearly, but if I don’t get some form of caffeine, I will fall asleep on my feet even with the threat of an international incident to follow.”

She dimpled at him, leading him down the corridor to the banquet hall which was decked out way more expensively than he’d anticipated. Not that this was a university function or anything, and it was Vegas, but… “Ah, Sasha? What’s with all the, you know, china and crystal?”

“Major, major last minute anonymous donation. Specifically wanted your speech to have, quote, “the setting it deserves,” end quote,” Sasha replied. “Since it was like, a hundred grand, we were good with that. Well, we’d’ve been good with anything, of course, you totally deserve it, but that gave us the excuse.”

Blair sighed quietly and thought, So much for my ‘less is more’ approach.

The next hour was filled with last minute prep and meeting with the two delegates who were causing the most trouble. He soothed them back to the original seating chart without too much effort, thank God, and then got roped into another meet-n-greet situation with some people from France.

It was eight when his cell rang with Jim’s ringtone and he begged off the current conversation, ducking into the nearest quiet spot he could find. Leaning against the wall, he answered with, “I should’ve stayed home and blamed you for it.”

Jim chuckled and said, “That good, huh, Chief?”

“Oh yeah,” Blair confirmed. Shaking it off, he asked, “How are you doing?”

“No longer seeing in triplicate and the ringing in my ears is gone.”

Blair breathed a sigh of relief. It worried him more than he wanted to admit when Jim hadn’t protested Simon’s babysitting. “Good. I’m glad. So did you find out what caused the explosion? And by ‘you,’ I mean the New Joel, because if you even left Simon’s house today, I will kill you myself.”

Jim sounded smug as he reported, “I didn’t leave the house once.”

Frowning suspiciously, it only took a few seconds to figure it out and accuse, “Major Crimes came to you, didn’t they? Damn it! I am going to kill Rafe and H when I get back! You’re supposed to be resting!”

Jim insisted, “This is restful. Me sitting on my ass and twiddling my thumbs is not restful.”

Blair took a breath and slowly let it out. “I’m too tired not to be pissed right now, Jim. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He hung up before he could say something he would regret.

“Blair? Why don’t I show you to your room?” Sasha suggested quietly from behind.

Blair turned and offered her a wan smile. “That sounds great, thanks, Sasha.”

“So what happened on the stakeout?” she asked as they approached the elevator.

Shaking his head, Blair answered, “I’m not sure, other than a very, very big explosion, which flipped the truck a few times. Man, I am so glad Jim uses his vehicles for police work. My insurance premiums are high enough with the accidents I get into that don’t involve high-speed chases or explosion rollovers. Well, and not that my car goes fast enough for a high-speed chase in the first place.”

Sasha blinked at him a few times and then said, “You know what, Blair? Sometimes I should know better than to ask for details.”

Blair laughed and then groaned, holding his side. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

* * * *

Jim stared at the disconnected phone in something like betrayal. He could count on one hand the number of times that Blair had hung up on him over the years.

“Sounds like that went well,” Simon observed from his place across the table.

Glaring at his friend’s faint smirk, Jim snapped, “Not now, Simon.”

Simon held up his hands, but reminded, “Hey, I told you to take the day off. I told you Blair would be ticked, remember?”

Jim grimaced at him. “No one likes an ‘I told you so.’”

Simon snorted. “Who’re you kidding? No one just likes being on the receiving end of one. Look at it this way. You showing up will have extra oomph now. He can’t complain that you’re working too hard if you’re in Vegas.”

“With my luck, he’ll be ticked that I traveled at all,” Jim groused.

Simon grinned outright and said, “Yeah, he probably will. But he stays pissed for what, five minutes? You’ll be fine as soon as you get him alone and beg forgiveness for being an asshole.”

Jim rolled his eyes and went back to looking over the forensics reports. “I still can’t believe that I didn’t smell the drugs. I always smell the drugs.”

“So maybe your nose needs a vacation, too,” Simon commented dryly. “No one’s infallible, Jim, not even you.”

Shaking his head, Jim said, “That’s not what I meant. I literally can’t not smell illegal drugs, especially meth. The chemicals are like…it’s like if someone snapped smelling salts right under your nose. You can’t help but smell it. All I smelled this time was dust, animal feces and Blair.”

Simon frowned. “And there’s no mistaking the chemical composition of what blew?”

“Not according to the New Joel,” Jim confirmed.

Simon’s lips twitched as he obviously bit back a grin while scolding, “Stop calling him that or the man’s gonna get a complex. His name is Ralph.”

Snickering, Jim pointed out, “It’s a lot nicer than what the guys were calling him before Sandburg stepped in.”

“I work with a bunch of ten year olds,” Simon muttered. “So okay. There was something in the warehouse that masked the smell from you. Maybe like lead hides kryptonite from Superman?”

Jim shrugged. “It’s a possibility, sure, but if the drugs had been sealed up that tight, why blow them up? And what the hell made them explode?”

Simon grunted, obviously unhappy with the puzzle. He closed the file in front of him and said, “You should get to sleep, if you want to make the nine a.m. flight.”

“It’s only seven-thirty.”

“Yeah, and you’ve still got a major concussion. The more rest, the better. Get your ass to bed, Ellison.”

Jim gave in graciously, knowing the black man was right. He stood up and was happy that the room stayed put. He almost felt back to normal, it was just loud noises and sudden movements that restarted his head throbbing. Being on a plane was going to be agony, but there was no way he would miss Blair’s big debut. It was his first real public outing of this kind since the dissertation disaster. Ever since that wreck of a day a little over five years ago, Blair had been involved almost exclusively in police work. Not that Jim blamed him, he’d be skittish too.

But then, about eighteen months ago a former student of Blair’s, Sasha Willoughby, had broached the Symposium with him. At first they’d just talked a lot about it, with Blair giving her the benefit of his knowledge. Jim had known how hard it had been for his partner at first, being on the fringes of the world that had rejected him so thoroughly. He’d wanted to warn Sasha off, but had bitten his tongue on several occasions.

Now, of course, he was glad that he had. Neither Blair nor Jim had known at the time, but the general academic consensus had been that Blair had been screwed by The Man in the form of university politics and the media. Things had really started cooking when Blair had made some calls on Sasha’s behalf and people had been so excited he was involved that it had just steamrolled into him being not only one of the organizers, but a major presenter, too.

Jim remembered his partner’s bewildered joy at the welcome he’d received from almost everyone he’d called while helping Sasha. He’d honestly been overwhelmed more than once at the way people had practically demanded that he be a part of it all. And so Hurricane Sandburg had reemerged with a vengeance as he’d worked a full load with Jim and then, essentially, a night job with Sasha to put together funds and locations and travel visas for the symposium.

Jim would’ve been on not just Sandburg’s shitlist if he’d made his partner miss any part of the convention, but probably on the ‘hunt him down and kill him’ list of about two hundred academics around the world.

Grinning faintly at the thought, Jim took care of his nightly routine and then climbed into the guest bed. He vaguely heard Rafe and Simon chatting quietly in the living room for the next couple of hours about the travel arrangements for the morning and then they went through their own nightly routine. It still took him by surprise, sometimes, the two of them together, but there was no doubt Rafe had mellowed Simon the last couple of years.

It wasn’t until he knew the house was locked down for the night that Jim finally fell deeply asleep.

* * * *

The wake-up call came way too early, jerking Blair from strange dreams as he fumbled for the hotel phone and answered, “Y’ello?”

“This is your six a.m. wake up call, Dr. Sandburg.”

“Oh God. I mean, thanks,” Blair replied, hanging up.

He flopped back onto the bed and started to drift back to sleep…just as the phone rang again. Heart racing, he grabbed it again and answered, “What? Hello?”

“This is your six-thirty wake up call, Dr. Sandburg.”

Blair groaned and told the woman, “I’m good, I’m up, thanks. You can hit the off button now.”

He heard a soft, feminine giggle as he hung up the phone. Climbing slowly out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom and stripped, turning on first the coffee maker and then the shower. Twenty minutes later, he stepped back out of the tub feeling something close to human. His first cup of coffee finished the transformation and he thought, Man, the detox is going to be a serious killer next month.

For the next nine days, though, he needed the caffeine.

Dressing with care in the casual beige pants and deep blue cotton shirt that Jim had insisted he take for the first official day of meet-n-greet, Blair combed through his hair last. It had partially dried, which was a royal pain, but finally it was done and he left it loose, also as ordered by Jim. While he normally wouldn’t give two cents for his partner’s fashion sense, he knew the other man was very partial to how Blair looked.

He was just buckling on his sandals when an impatient knock announced Sasha. Grinning, walked over to the door with one bare foot, knowing she’d probably explode if he didn’t let her in right away, and peered out the keyhole to make sure it was her. He opened the door and said, “Morning.”

Dressed in a simple green dress that accentuated her eyes and set off her hair, Sasha brushed passed him with a relieved, “Oh good, you’re almost ready.”

“Come in. Have some coffee,” he offered, still grinning.

She wrinkled her nose at him and said, “Don’t mind if I do,” before stepping into the bathroom to get a cup for herself.

Blair returned to the bed where he pulled on his other sandal and asked, “Did you go to bed last night?”

Sasha returned with a bright, “I got a whole five hours, can’t you tell?”

Considering that she was about where he’d been ten years ago, he really could. Keeping that thought to himself, he asked, “Breakfast?”

“Buffet in one of the ballrooms,” she replied. “Here’s a map of the hotel, your itinerary, and please, please, please don’t be late to the main banquet tonight. Don’t get trapped in an elevator by some madman, don’t stop a bank robbery, and please, please, please don’t get caught up in some kind of terrorist plot or plots.”

Blair snickered and pointed out, “Hey, only two of those three actually happened.”

“The fact that you can say that is my point exactly,” she retorted, dry. “Come on, come on! Time to go!”

He grabbed his wallet and badge, tucking both in his back pocket automatically. Strange to say, but after five years as a cop, he actually did feel a little naked without his gun.

“And by the way?” Sasha said as he locked the door behind them. “I love it when your hair’s down. Expect many women to touch it throughout the day.”

Blair grinned.

* * * *

The morning flew by, as Blair had known it would. From the buffet breakfast where he did more talking and eating, he went to an informal South American Studies gathering where he mingled eagerly with the few indigenous attendees they’d managed to fly north. He was one of the few who spoke Chopec, so he was there or a couple of hours both talking and translating before Sasha dragged him away.

Next was a stop in with the science geeks where he got to indulge the cop side of him for too short a time, talking to a few forensics experts. One was a local bigwig that he’d wanted to meet for years, Dr. Gil Grissom. He hadn’t even known that Dr. Grissom would be there. If Blair had known he was going to attend, he would’ve asked the man to be there in his capacity as an entomologist. It would’ve been great to hear him talk about the diversity of insect life and how pollution was affecting it and in turn, how the loss of insects the world over affected mankind.

Sasha introduced, “Dr. Gil Grissom, this is Dr. Blair Sandburg.”

Blair shook the older man’s hand with pleasure and said, “It’s great to finally meet you, Dr. Grissom. I’ve been a fan for a long time, even before my work with the Cascade PD.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Dr. Sandburg. And please call me Gil,” the other replied, smiling, blue eyes bright behind his glasses. “Though I can’t actually say the same, since the first I heard of you was when one of my people showed me a flyer for your Symposium last month.”

Blair put an arm around Sasha’s shoulder and corrected, “It’s Blair. And this is actually Sasha’s Symposium. I just helped out by spreading the word.”

“He likes to talk to a lot of people,” Sasha joked.

Chuckling, Blair asked, “Do you mind if I ask you some questions about…”

Sasha interrupted, “Blair, Dr. Grissom, I hate to do this, but we really need to go before you get started. It’s time for lunch and you need to be on hand for the Chinese delegation.”

Blair gave Gil a ‘what can you do?’ look and offered his hand again. “Another time, then. I’d really love to talk in-depth with you about a lot of things you do at LVPD.”

There was an oddly intent expression on Gil’s face and he cleared his throat before saying, “I’d like that very much, thank you, Blair.”

Blair followed Sasha out, but instinct made him turn back before leaving the hall, the sensation of being watched very strong. He found Gil staring at him, an odd expression in place. The older man jumped a little at having been caught out and then quickly turned away. Eyebrows lifted in surprise, Blair shrugged to himself and continued on his way.

He actually got to eat at lunch, which was good because he felt shaky from the lack. Sasha handed him a plate, ordered, “Eat,” and hustled him into an alcove to do so. Once he’d washed down the sandwich with a coke, he sat with a groan and wished that he’d remembered to bring ibuprofen, the ache in his ribs throbbing from all the activity.

“Hey, Chief. I’ve got some ibuprofen with your name on it.”

Blair jumped at Jim’s voice and then groaned, holding his side. Pleasure combated the pain, though, and he stood up to grab his partner in a tight hug. As soon as Jim’s arms went around him, Blair relaxed for the first time in six hours.

Kissing the top of his head, Jim told him, “Sorry about yesterday.”

Blair pulled back and smiled up at his lover. “So am I. Especially if you really do have drugs.”

Jim chuckled and pulled a bottle out of his pocket, then poured out four of them with, “You did eat something, right?”

Nodding, Blair confirmed, “A sandwich and soda.”

“And you complain about my eating habits?” Jim teased, handing over the pills.

Blair made a face at him and grabbed a water bottle from a nearby table before washing them down. Sliding an arm around Jim’s waist, he said, “Not that I’m complaining, really, but what are you doing here?”

Jim answered simply, “Do you really think I would miss your big day?”

Emotion tightened Blair’s throat. Trust Jim to find the fastest way to reduce him to Jell-o. He had to clear his throat in order to say, “Thanks.”

Jim gave him a brief kiss and then asked, “What room are we in?”

Blair’s mind went blank. “I have no idea.”

“Room key?” Jim prompted, grinning.

Blair pulled out his key and it said 7110. Shaking his head in amusement, he handed over the key. “I’m going to be swamped the rest of the day, but there’s a Chopec delegation in the Green Room, if you want to say hello.”

Jim brightened up even more at the news. “I didn’t think they would make it.”

“Hey, when the Sentinel of the Great City calls…” Blair teased.

Jim rolled his eyes, but Sasha appeared before he could speak. She gave him a surprised look and then hugged him, exclaiming, “You should’ve told me you were coming! I would’ve arranged a car!”

Jim waved it off and said, “That’s why I didn’t tell you I was coming. You’ve got more important things to spend money on. Blair, I will see you at the dinner tonight for your big speech. Until then, I’m just going to sack out in the room.”

Blair kissed him in thanks and said, “Good. I’ll see you tonight when I come back to get changed.”

Jim winked at Sasha and then headed for the elevators.

Turning to the still-bouncing girl beside him, Blair half-teased, “Where next, slave driver?”

* * * *

After a brief trip to the Green Room to speak with the Chopec delegation, Jim really did spend the day in the room, and most of it was spent sleeping. He wanted to be able to not only hear Blair’s speech without that damned ringing in his ear, but not pass out at the subsequent applause. The hotel was filled with so many nationalities that it was like a mini UN only without most of the politics. Even through the walls, he could hear the unfamiliar cadences chattering away. He’d finally had to turn on the white noise generator to tune them out and sleep.

So it was that Blair unlocking the door didn’t wake him. It wasn’t until a very familiar hand rubbed his back that Jim woke up, smiling. He rubbed his eyes and found Blair sitting on the bed, smiling down at him with love in his eyes. Jim reached up to cup his face and rumbled, “Hey you.”

Blair’s smile grew and he murmured, “Hey you,” before bending down to kiss him, slow and sweet and then rested his forehead on Jim’s.

Humming in contentment as his senses latched onto his lover with a vengeance, Jim yawned and asked, “How’d the rest of the day go?”

“Hectic. Insane. Awesome,” Blair replied, grinning. “I can see yours went well.”

Jim chuckled and the movement broke the tenuous connection. Sitting up, he agreed, “Very well. I feel about a hundred times better.”

A flash of worry crossed Blair’s face and he said, “You really shouldn’t have traveled on a plane with a concussion, Jim.”

“I’m fine, Chief,” Jim promised.

Blair smirked a little and agreed, “You sure are.”

Rolling his eyes as Blair stood, Jim did the same and asked, “How long ‘til we need to be somewhere?”

Blair grinned. “Not long enough, unfortunately.”

Snorting, Jim said, “Not for that, Junior. I just meant how long do we have to get ready?”

“Oh we’ve got a half-hour. I figured you’d be sleeping and wanted to give you enough time.”

“Right. Because we all know I’m the one who takes forever to get ready.”

Blair made a face at the casual insult and said, “Just for that, I’ve got the shower first.”

Jim chuckled as his partner went into the bathroom, calling after him, “We could share!”

“Not with only a half-hour to get ready,” Blair called back.

Still chuckling, Jim pulled out the suit he’d brought for the banquet, already hung up from when he’d first arrived. Rifling through Blair’s suitcase, he shook his head on finding nothing put away. He took out the soft grey shirt and black slacks that he knew Blair would wear that night, along with the sapphire pendant that Jim had bought for him on their first anniversary. The solid gold, twelve karat pendant was only worn on special occasions, but it matched the earring that never left his partner’s ear.

With his hair down in long curls, Blair would look positively edible, which stirred anticipation through Jim’s body. He half-grinned and told his body sternly, “Down, boy.”

Blair took an unusually short amount of time to get ready and gave Jim a grateful look for the clothes already on the bed, waiting. Jim didn’t even really need a shower, so he used the time to throw on some more deodorant and give himself a fresh shave before dressing. When he left the bathroom in the dark gray suit and pale blue shirt, Blair took one look at him and let out a wolf whistle.

Jim snorted, but grinned in pleasure at the appreciation, his hand automatically and self-consciously going to his receding hairline.

Blair wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist and smiled up at him, desire in his gaze and the semi-firmness pressing against Jim’s thigh. “Trust me. No one’s going to be looking at your hair.”

“Thanks, I think?” Jim teased, before dipping in for a long, hungry kiss. His fingers wound tight into the long curls, the sensory input long-familiar but always sought-for.

Blair groaned in need, but pulled away after only a few seconds. It had been well over a week since the last time they’d made love and they were both more than ready for it, but there simply was no time, Jim knew. Breathing hard, he stepped back and said, “Before we go, I have something for you.”

Blair’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he waited patiently for Jim to go to his suitcase and bring out a small, worn, leather journal. Jim saw that he recognized it instantly and explained, “I found this a few weeks ago when I was going through the stuff in the basement. It’s been a long damn journey to get here, but I am so, so damn glad you lied your way into my life and then bulldozed over all my boundaries. Without you…well, I wouldn’t be the man I am now. I love you and you are going to be great in there, I know it. You’re the Shaman of the Great City, my Shaman, and you lead people naturally with your heart and example. Everyone here recognizes that.”

Blair swallowed a few times before taking the journal with shaky hands. He finally whispered, “Thanks, Jim.”

Jim watched as Blair flipped through the journal he’d used at the start of things.

A faint smile lifted his partner’s mouth and then Blair looked at him, a mixture of love, tenderness, and mischief filling his gaze as he said, “I can’t believe I was so wrong about you.”

Jim knew something was coming, but willingly supplied, “Oh?”

“You can string more than three monosyllabic words together!” Blair teased and then cracked up.

Chuckling, Jim remembered the angry, confused man he’d been back then and had no problems with how Blair had described him at the time. They’d both come a long way over the years. Tossing an arm over Blair’s shoulder, he said, “Come on, Junior, it’s time to make an appearance for your adoring fans.”

Still laughing, Blair tucked the journal into his pocket and allowed Jim to pull him out of the room and then waited until Jim was sure it had locked behind them. They walked to the elevator like that, comfortable and in synch, and Jim relished the physical contact. He didn’t strictly need it the way he had in the early years, but he wanted it more than ever.

He started to pull his arm off Blair’s shoulder when the elevator doors opened onto the lobby, but Blair’s hand caught his and kept him exactly where he was. Jim flushed a little at the look of pure love Blair gave him and cautioned, “A lot of people won’t be happy with such an open PDA between two men.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Blair said succinctly.

Jim laughed at the blunt language and then kissed his partner’s temple as they stepped off the elevator together. Sometimes he forgot just how little Blair cared about other people’s opinions. He’d toed the line so well since becoming a cop, other than the long hair, that Jim occasionally had to remind himself of his lover’s bohemian roots.

Sasha almost immediately jumped on them as they reached the massive ballroom where the event was to take place. “There you are! Hi, Jim. Blair, we need to get you going with the photo ops with the delegations. No, don’t make that face, you knew we’d have to do some major PR if this is going to be a real, recurring event. Bye Jim! You’re seated at one of the front tables.”

Jim watched, bemused, as Sasha deftly pulled Blair away. Shaking his head, Jim wandered the room until he found his place card at the table nearest the long table set on a dais where the speakers would sit.

“Excuse me, did I see you come in with Dr. Sandburg?”

Turning, Jim found a man with graying hair and beard with glasses standing nearby, a quizzical look on his face. He had blue eyes and there was something about him that was very familiar, though he was sure they’d never met. The suit didn’t hide the minor middle-aged spread, but he seemed pretty fit otherwise. Jim nodded and held out his hand, “Jim Ellison. I’m Blair’s partner.”

“Dr. Gil Grissom,” the man replied, smiling as they shook hands. “I work here at the LVPD crime lab.”

A tech was as close to a cop as Jim was likely to find in this convention, so he smiled and said, “Have a seat, Dr. Grissom. Oh, unless you’re here with someone?”

“No, it’s just me,” Grissom replied, sitting. “And please, call me Gil, Detective.”

Jim half-smiled at that and echoed, “It’s Jim. How’d you know I was a detective?”

Grissom’s mouth twitched and he commented, “I’m afraid that you’re almost as well known as Dr. Sandburg, at least around here. Your escapades are something of a legend at LVPD. One of our younger techs interned for a year in Cascade.”

A grimace flashed over Jim’s face before he could stop it. “Great. So you work in forensics?”

Grissom accepted the subject change and nodded as he explained, “I supervise the day shift, though I’m hoping to get back on nights soon.”

“More action?” Jim asked politely.

But Grissom shook his head and said, “No, I…just work better with the people on the night shift.”

Probably no one else would’ve noticed the hesitation, but Jim did. He didn’t comment though and said, “I can understand that. You get used to working a certain way and your coworkers know how to anticipate and vice versa.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly. You’ve been with Dr. Sandburg for, what, about eight years now?”

The exceptionally casual question set off a lot of Jim’s internal alarms, but he nodded. It was public record, after all.

“And you’re life partners as well as police partners? That’s unusual. For the brass to allow it, I mean.”

Jim couldn’t get a read on the man. He was definitely prying, though politely so. There was a strange intensity to him, but it didn’t feel hostile or like it was coming from a bad place. “We get a lot of results and I think the higher ups are reluctant to mess with what works.”

Which was true, although Simon had had a hell of a time to get special dispensation for them to work together at the time. Of course, it had probably helped that he and Blair had lived together for almost four years at the time they’d come out in general. There’d been a solid blue wall of support around Blair when the academic side of his world had fallen out from under him. Plus everyone had pretty much already assumed they’d been screwing each other for years, even though they hadn’t become lovers until after the dissertation leak.

“That makes sense,” Grissom murmured.

Jim frowned at him, that feeling of familiarity growing stronger. He asked abruptly, “Do we know each other? Have we met?”

That appeared to startle Grissom, blue eyes going wide behind his glasses. “No, well, not that I’m aware of at least.”

Sasha’s voice said over the speakers, “Excuse me, but if you’ll all take your seats, we can get started.”

Grissom smiled as he stood and said, “It was nice talking with you, Jim.”

Jim nodded, taking the man’s hand. “You too, Gil.”

And then Grissom pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It finally hit Jim who the man reminded him of, and it was Blair. Bemused for the second time in twenty minutes, he watched Grissom walk away to a table halfway down the room and then turned to face the dais to see Blair walking to a seat on the end. He grinned and waved at Jim, so Jim waved back, smiling with pride.

The next few minutes were spent with introductions to his table mates, of which he found four of the seven to be Chopec. That made sense, since he could translate for them, if they wanted. The other three were also in forensics and Jim blessed Sasha’s sense of who he’d be comfortable with, because it was the perfect mix.

Sasha took the microphone again and said, “We’re going to start off with the speeches and then let you all get to the delicious food so you don’t have to be interrupted just as dessert arrives.” There was a gracious, mass chuckle from around the room and then she continued, “First, I just want to say thank you all so much for making this Symposium the success that it already is, even though we’ve just begun. For the next eight days, we’ll all be exchanging ideas and thoughts and cultures and making friends. For the next eight days, we’ll be breaking down barriers and prejudice with knowledge and our experiences. I can only hope that what we take away from this conference stays with us the rest of our lives so that we can share what we’ve learned with those at home.”

There was a loud round of applause at which Sasha dimpled and waited it out. When it died down, she said, “And now, the man who spent far too many hours helping me put this together, Dr. Blair Sandburg.”

Even Jim was taken aback by the thunderous applause and standing ovation as Blair took center stage. Blair stood there a moment, eyes wide and frozen; Jim spotted the moisture in his partner’s eyes by turning up his vision.

Blair finally cleared his throat and held up a hand for people to stop and sit down. When they did, he said into the mike, “Wow. Wow, I totally did not expect that. Thank you all, thanks so much. See, now you’ve completely thrown me and I can’t remember my speech.”

Jim grinned at the resulting laughter and Blair’s gaze met his for a split second. The sheer joy in his partner’s eyes caused him to straighten with more love, though that hardly seemed possible.

“That’s okay, though, because speeches are usually pretty boring. Oh hey, sorry guys.”

More laughter as Blair looked at his fellow panelists.

Turning serious, Blair looked down at the podium for a long moment and the room quieted. When he looked up again, he said, “Even as great as all of you have been with supporting me, it’s kind of the elephant in the room, so I think I should bring up now why I vanished from academia five years ago. My diss. My fake diss, I should say. No, fake isn’t the right word. Fictional diss. Yeah, that works better, because it wasn’t ever supposed to be released as fact. My well-meaning mom took matters into her own hands and things got way out of control, really fast.

“A great many of you know about my, well, obsession with all things Burton. And like many obsessions, it got out of hand. It took a bitter cold splash of reality to get through to me, but believe me, I heard the universe loud and clear,” Blair said wryly. There was a smattering of sympathetic laughter as he continued, “I did actually have a dissertation, a real one, about a society of protectors, but they go by the more mundane name of police. I rode along with the detectives of Cascade’s finest for three years and had what I modestly believe to be an awesome dissertation.”

More laughter at that, but it was also kind and Jim stayed relaxed.

“Unfortunately, that diss got thrown under the bus because of all shitstorm fallout from the fictional diss. I finally did turn it in and successfully got my doctorate, thanks to the extremely persistent nagging from my life partner, Jim Ellison, there he is. C’mon Jim, stand up and wave to the nice people.”

Jim sent his lover a glare, but half-stood from his chair and waved to the room, his face a massive hot flash.

Blair chuckled into the mike and said, “I’m going to pay for that later, let me tell you. So anyhow. Once that was completed, I thought I was done with the world of academics. Until Sasha showed up on my door a year and a half ago and man, I am damn glad that she did. I missed you guys. All of you. And I’m thankful every day that you all believe in me and let me continue to learn. So yeah. Thanks for coming and try not to yawn through the rest of the speeches.”

There was another standing ovation and Jim wanted to do nothing more than grab Blair in a bear hug and kiss him senseless, but settled for joining in the applause.

* * * *

Blair could barely control the shaking that wanted to rattle his teeth on the short walk back to his seat from the podium. The first standing ovation had shocked the hell out of him, the second even more so. He hadn’t planned on bringing up the diss, but something had prompted him to do so with all those eyes on him. He’d suddenly known that if he didn’t, the whispers would always be there, in the shadows. And while calling Jim fictional had hurt, he knew that it had been the right thing to do.

Part of his mind automatically listened to what his fellow panelists said. They’d all been chosen because of the weight they carried in their fields but also because of their reputation for being open-minded to a marked degree. By the time the last speaker finished, Blair had regained his composure and searched out Jim’s gaze at his nearby table. It wasn’t a surprise to find his partner’s eyes already on him and he smiled a reassurance to the other man.

Jim relaxed subtly, which told Blair that he’d been close to coming up on stage and getting Blair regardless of the stir it would cause. He knew that Jim thought Blair was the one who didn’t care about other people’s opinions, but Jim was the true rebel. He would do what he thought was right ten out of ten times and be damned of the consequences. It was just one of the things Blair loved about him.

Dinner was served and, as much as Blair liked the people he was sitting with, there was someone else he wanted to join more. He chatted briefly with each professor and then walked down to Jim’s table.

Jim stood, engulfing him in a brief, tight hug, and then kept his hand at the small of Blair’s back as everyone shifted to make room for him. The connection wasn’t nearly as much as he wanted, but it would do in a pinch. Once he pushed his chair between Jim and Pukara, the Chopec warrior who’d accompanied his elders, Jim took Blair’s hand, lacing their fingers together and telling him warmly, “You were great, Chief. I knew you would be.”

There were echoes of the same from the westerners at the table and nods from the Chopec. In their language, Blair asked Pilpintu, a tiny woman with steel gray, intricate braids, “How was your trip to get here?”

“Long, smelly, and noisy,” the old woman replied bluntly. “Like your too-bright city here.”

There were chuckles of agreement around the table when Jim translated for them.

Grinning, Blair looked at Yupanki, the other elder, and said, “I’m glad you came. How is Incacha?”

Yupanki smiled back at him, one of his front teeth missing, and replied, “Training a new Shaman, since you will not leave your Great City.”

“You actually apprenticed with their Shaman?” Patrick Lehane, also an anthropologist, exclaimed. “However did you manage that?”

Blair was startled that someone at their table spoke Quechua aside from himself and Jim and then realized that of course he didn’t have the monopoly on it. He shrugged and deflected, “Jim had a connection from his time there when he was in the military. Incacha was very gracious and taught me a few things.”

Jim choked on his water and glanced sideways at him, but didn’t contradict his words.

Patrick looked between them, obviously getting that there was more, but only asked Yupanki, “Are you the head of your tribe?”

Yupanki shook his head and replied, “I am not. I am a teacher, as is Pilpintu. The Shaman said he wanted teachers to come, so we came.”

Lehane glanced again at Blair when Yupanki gestured at him, saying ‘Shaman.’

Thankfully, Sasha appeared just then and joked, “I should have known you wouldn’t stay there once Jim arrived. No, don’t get up, I’m not here to interrupt your dinners. I just wanted to make sure you all were okay and didn’t need anything.”

There were polite head shakes and Blair told her, “Just for you to sit down for more than five minutes and eat something.”

Sasha dimpled at him and promised, “I am. Terry’s got some sirloin with my name on it.”

“Carnivore,” Blair teased.

Jim said, “A girl after my own heart.”

“And your cholesterol level if you don’t cool it, mister,” Blair retorted.

Jim made a face at him and Sasha said, “Well, on that note, I shall go eat. Enjoy, everyone!”

Her interruption was enough to turn the subject to the convention in general, for which Blair was grateful, but he occasionally felt Lehane’s thoughtful gaze on him throughout the night.

As dessert arrived, Jim said quietly, “I had an odd conversation earlier with a Dr. Grissom. You know him?”

Startled, Blair said, “I met him yesterday myself and had my own odd encounter today. What was yours?”

As Jim related the conversation, Blair wondered why Gil was so curious about him, about them. He was gathering data, that was obvious, but why? And he’d clearly misled Jim about who he was, at least in his position and the power he wielded at the LVPD. Blair corrected that on the spot and then wondered, “What do you think he’s up to?”

Jim shrugged and Blair glanced over at the other man’s table to find him looking right at them. Gil looked away immediately, but Blair had the feeling he somehow knew exactly what they were talking about. It creeped him out a little and he had a sudden, very worrying thought. Sub-vocal, he canted his head so Gil couldn’t see his lips and asked Jim, “Does he come across as another sentinel?”

The thought clearly hadn’t occurred to Jim, because he looked startled. He frowned, pausing, maybe casting his senses out, and then shook his head. “If anything, he reminds me of you.”

Blair stabbed at his raspberry chocolate mousse, uneasy with the situation. “I don’t like it, Jim.”

“Well, let’s ask him. He’s coming this way,” Jim said.

Looking up, Blair found that to be true. Gil wore an odd expression as he approached, something like determination and uncertainty combined.

Stopping at their table, he asked, “Could we talk for a few minutes privately?”

Blair looked at Jim, who shrugged and nodded. Blair stood and said, “There’s a small office nearby that we’ve been using. We can talk there.”

They were all silent on the short trip to the office but, once the door closed behind them, Gil said, “I’m sorry about eavesdropping back there. My mother was deaf, so I can read lips.”

Which explained why Blair had felt like he’d known what they were talking about.

“I’m also sorry for how badly I’ve handled this,” Gil continued. “I didn’t mean to make either of you uncomfortable. About a month ago, my best friend showed me the flyer for the symposium and your picture, Blair, was on it. You can imagine my surprise, or perhaps you can’t, to find my own eyes staring back at me. And then I saw your name. I was more than a little disconcerted, I still am, really, at the thought that, that you might be my son.”

Blair gaped at him, completely bowled over. Of all the possible explanations for the odd behavior, this one had never once entered his mind.

Gil hurriedly said, “You see, I knew your mother during my sophomore year in college, back in California. I’m from there originally. I was just nineteen and she couldn’t have been more than twenty-four, twenty-five at most. It was my first and only whirlwind affair. Naomi disappeared without a trace after we’d been together for about a month. I never heard or saw from her again, outside of a single letter she sent to tell me that she was fine and had found her joy, to not look for her. She said…she said she was detaching with love. Once I saw that flyer, I researched you. I found a picture of you with your mother and I just knew. She hasn’t changed a bit.”

Reeling from the narrative, hearing his mother’s words in Gil’s voice, Blair looked at the rock of his existence.

Jim met his gaze and said simply, “He’s not lying, Blair. He thinks it really is a possibility.”

Blair sank onto the loveseat, his mind whirling with everything the older man had said. Jim stood right beside him, his hand a warm, comforting presence on Blair’s shoulder.

Gil told him, “I still have the letter. Would you like to read it? Maybe you’ll recognize the handwriting.”

But Blair believed him. At least as far as the affair with Naomi. She’d been pretty wild back then and an affair with a younger man would’ve been no problem in her mind. As to whether or not Gil Grissom really was his father, well, he needed a lot more to go on. Like a DNA test.

“I understand if you need time to think everything over. I’m not expecting anything, honestly. If it turns out you are my son, if you would agree to a paternity test, then I still won’t expect anything from you, although I would like to get to know you, if you aren’t averse to it. I, I don’t know what she told you about me.”

Blair had to clear his throat in order to say, “Nothing. She told me nothing about you, about my father. Not your name, not where you met, not what you looked like, not a damn thing. There’s just always been a huge blank spot when it comes to my father.”

Gil looked shocked by that, eyes going wide behind his glasses. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, obviously thinking better of whatever he’d been going to say. He took a deep breath and then said, “Well. First things first. If you would agree to come down to the LVPD, or an independent lab of your choosing, we can get a paternity test. It’s completely up to you.”

“I, I don’t know anything right now,” Blair finally said.

Gil nodded, maybe expecting the response, and told him, “That’s fine. You need time. You know where to find me, so when you’re ready, please give me a call. Here’s my card.”

Jim took the business card and then, with a troubled smile at each of them, Gil left the office.

When Jim turned to him, Blair wrapped his arms around his partner’s waist and buried his face against his stomach. Confusion roiled through him, and anger that the symposium had just been ruined. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything except this news, not until he knew one way or the other.

Jim’s hands rubbed between his shoulder blades, under his hair, and he said, “I think you should do it, Blair, and soon. The sooner you know, the sooner you can deal with the knowledge that you might finally know your father.”

Blair nodded agreement, knowing that Jim was right. “Can I just…wallow for a few minutes?”

Jim sat beside him, pulling him close with a hand over his shoulder. Kissing the top of his head, he replied, “Wallow as long as you want, Chief. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sighing deeply, Blair hid his face against his lover’s neck and prayed the world would stay away for just a little while.

* * * *

Jim held onto Blair for a good ten minutes before his lover finally stirred. He wasn’t complaining about the closeness, just the reason for it. It was like Blair just couldn’t catch a break. As soon as his life started really going well, something happened to shake his world again down to its foundation again. And while Jim got the feeling that Blair could do worse than Grissom for a father, finding out about it here and now, of all places, was just piss-poor timing.

They walked down the hall and passed the banquet hall without a glance. Jim knew that Sasha would come looking for Blair early, so he wanted to get back to the room and into bed at a correspondingly early time of night. He was emotionally exhausted, there was no doubting that, and Jim’s need to protect him was demanding that he do something to help, he just wasn’t sure what.

Once in the room, though, Blair came to life. He grabbed Jim’s shirt and hauled him down for a hungry, almost desperate kiss. Taken aback, Jim opened automatically to the onslaught. His hands gripped Blair’s waist lightly and he kissed back, trying to calm down Blair’s frantic pace through touch. It took a few minutes, but by the time he’d backed Blair against the bed, the other man gasped for breath and pressed his forehead to Jim’s chest.

“Sorry, sorry. Just…love me?” Blair whispered.

Jim cupped his chin, tilting his head up so their eyes met and said firmly, “Always,” before bending down to take his mouth again, this time slow and wet and with all of his own hunger.

Blair moaned into the kiss and pulled Jim’s shirt up and out to slide his hands underneath, fingers splaying out against his lower back. It was all he needed to start unbuttoning Blair’s shirt, fingers moving on their own as he continued kissing. Their tongues played as shirts were undone and discarded, teeth clicking together as Jim tried his best to taste everything of his lover that he could. With all that bare skin calling, Jim hooked an arm around Blair’s waist and simply lifted him onto the bed, lowering him slowly as he bit sharply at Blair’s lower lip.

Gasping, Blair shivered and scraped fingernails up Jim’s back, one of his legs hooking around Jim’s thigh to hold him down, on top of him. Jim left off the kissing to bite his way down his lover’s throat, sucking a hickey into existence at the jugular. Blair moaned his name and Jim bit down hard enough to bruise before moving further down. He sucked at each nipple in turn and then shuddered in pleasure when Blair’s shin rubbed up against his dick through fabric.

Bracing himself on both hands, panting, Jim stared down at the wanton image of Blair, pupils blown, hair spilled out on the bedspread, bare chest thick with hair. He said roughly, “God I want you.”

Blair smiled, slow and dirty. “How much do you want me?”

Jim licked at dry lips and admitted, “I’d do anything for you.”

“Would you pay for me?” Blair teased, fingers trailing lightly across Jim’s chest. He leaned up to viciously bite Jim’s earlobe before continuing in a low voice against his ear, “Would you fuck me out in the open, in some nameless alley? What would you do to have me, Jim?”

“Anything,” Jim groaned, hips jerking involuntarily against Blair’s to rub their cocks together.

There were entirely too many layers between them, but he stayed where he was for a long moment, struggling to retain control, to not come then and there. When at last he had control, he knelt back and stared at Blair, who stared back with a smug expression. He knew exactly what he did to Jim, reveled in it, finding and pushing every dirty little desire that Jim had ever even imagined. It didn’t matter that they’d been together so long; Blair seemed to find new kinks all the time.

Blair twisted his own nipples and murmured, “I think you should take off those pants, lover, and show me what you’ve got.”

Jim hopped nimbly off the bed and unbuckled his belt first, leaving it open as he undid the button on his slacks. A quick glance showed Blair’s gaze glued to his hands and so he slowly lowered the zipper. He pushed down both pants and briefs, standing up nude and stepping out of the puddle of clothes. With a little smirk of his own, Jim put his hands on his hips and asked, “So? Am I worth a freebie, or do I have to pay for it?”

Blair crooked a finger at him as he said, “Oh, I think you’re definitely worth a freebie.”

Chuckling breathlessly, Jim strode back to the bed and crawled back between his legs, tugging at the pantlegs. “I think we need to get rid of these.”

“Go for it,” Blair ordered negligently.

Jim made short work of the button and zipper and tugged the pants off, but left the boxers. He palmed Blair’s erection through the fabric and grinned fiercely at Blair’s moan, the way his hips pushed up against the caress. Stretching out on him, Jim nosed at the shaft and then mouthed it, tasting Blair easily through the fabric. Strong fingers curved around his head, urging him to do more and he tugged the boxers down at last to suck on the cock. He spent time there, driving his lover to the point of orgasm and then backing off with a sharp twist or painful squeeze.

When Jim looked up again, sweat dotted Blair’s body and his chest rose and fell rapidly with the harsh panting. Blair’s lower lip was swollen from him biting it and Jim had to have it, surging up to kiss him, hard and hungry. Blair pushed at him insistently and Jim rolled onto his back, taking Blair with him.

Laughing breathlessly, Blair sat up and back, pressing Jim’s erection down and provoking a groan of need. Knowing exactly what he was doing, Blair slid his hands up and down Jim’s chest and purred, “Need something, baby?”

Jim’s hips thrust up, but not hard enough to dislodge him, mindful of the injured ribs. “You know I do.”

“Oh yeah, what do you need?” Blair demanded, rocking back and forth. “Tell me. You want my ass, my cock, or my mouth? So many choices.”

Jim shuddered, his mind temporarily shorting out when Blair twisted his nipples sharp enough to hurt. The tiny sparks of pain seemed to be wired directly to his dick, which throbbed angrily.

Leaning forward, Blair murmured against his ear, “You want me to pick? Want me to tell you what to do, baby?”

Jim could barely form a coherent thought and nodded, his hands squeezing rhythmically on Blair’s hips. He growled when his handhold shifted out of his reach, but then Blair’s dick was in front of his mouth, his lover having turned all the way around. Wet heat sucked around Jim’s dick and he moaned in pleasure, taking Blair’s into his mouth in return. He licked and sucked at his lover’s shaft and nuzzled at the balls before sucking on them, too. His hips thrust instinctively and Blair’s throat opened to his dick, taking all of it just as Jim took his all the way down. Within moments, Jim came, unable to hold back as he pushed as deep as he could.

Blair pulled out just long enough for Jim to catch his breath and then he fucked Jim’s throat hard and fast before spilling. Jim’s fingers squeezed against Blair’s ass as the world grayed out from lack of air. Just as the world faded away, Jim came again, his dick stroked and twisted all the while to milk more from him.

The next time Jim surfaced from the utter contentment, Blair lay sprawled over him, fingers trailing lightly over his chest. Jim turned his head and met Blair’s gaze with a slow, satisfied grin. He said, “Haven’t done that to me for a while. Needing a little control there, lover?”

Blair gave him a sheepish grin and kissed his shoulder. “Maybe a little. Sorry about that.”

“Why? I’m not,” Jim replied.

Blair laced his fingers with Jim’s as he said, “I should’ve warned you, should’ve made sure you were okay with it.”

Jim kissed his forehead and told him, “You can ambush me like that any time. I trust you. But speaking of control issues…what about Grissom?”

Sighing, Blair stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes and then said, “I don’t know. I guess… I should find out for sure, right?”

“It’s up to you,” Jim said softly. “But Blair, you’ve wanted to know your father your whole life. This is your chance to find out. And he seems like a good man.”

Blair nodded agreement. “I know. I actually, I’ve admired him for a number of years now. To think that he could be my father, it’s bizarre.”

Knowing from the tired undertone to his lover’s voice that Blair was about ready to fall asleep, Jim suggested, “How about we get the test done in the morning? Then you can go ahead with the rest of the day here at the conference, if you think you can concentrate on it. It won’t take long if he has it done in-house, maybe just a day.”

Yawning, Blair said, “I probably won’t be able to concentrate, but I’ll need to help out Sasha anyhow. I don’t think, can we just go in the morning? Not call ahead? I might chicken out.”

Jim almost smiled at the thought of Blair chickening out of anything, but bit it back. He just said, “Sure. Get some sleep, Blair.”

It took several minutes, but eventually Blair’s breathing slowed into that of a true sleep. Once he was sure his lover wouldn’t wake up again, Jim yawned and then closed his own eyes.