Blair's pace was very slow indeed.  He had not come home from D.C. right away, just as Morrow had warned.  He was not working at the Devereaux Agency either though, so Jim was able to sleep most nights.  Blair was at Georgetown, finishing his dissertation.  A much-changed dissertation, Jim thought with a smile.  He still was not quite comfortable, but he had finally realized that his comfort level was irrelevant.  This was Blair's life after all.  And for the most part, Jim was as proud of the new dissertation as Blair was.  Mainly because Blair was finally acknowledging the importance of the guide, something that Burton had overlooked.  Using Barnes and Chase, as well as old case studies of people with a few heightened senses, Blair had put together a dissertation that was receiving great praise from his Georgetown advisors.  Jim was there in the pages of it, almost anonymously, as a case study.   If anyone knew them, they would be able to identify Jim.  Otherwise, he was just subject number two. 

 

But the road from Millennium to Georgetown's acceptance of the dissertation had taken a long, hard eight months.  Jim had continued to work, just as a normal detective though.  Using the senses was too dangerous even with his co-workers trying to help.  Jim had also spent a lot of time and money on phone calls and airplane tickets, as he and Blair tried to repair their partnership, and more importantly, their friendship.  The first couple of visits had been tense, but as usual, Blair had dispelled the tension.  It was a simple statement that opened the floodgates.  It was that the third visit.  Jim had been toying with his fork at dinner until Blair had reached out and stilled his hand.

 

"I don't hate you.  I could never hate you, Jim."

 

After that, it was all downhill.  That was not to say that everything had gone smoothly after that.  Not by any means.  It did start the real work, however.  Blair was still angry and Jim knew that eventually he would have to face that anger.  In the end, he had had to force the issue.  He remembered the fight word for word, blow for blow. 

 

//"You have to be angry, Chief."

 

"I'm not angry anymore."

 

"You have to be.  I would be.  I lied to you.  I accused you of betrayal and—"

 

"Jim, shut up about it.  I'm not angry."

 

"I ruined your life."

 

"You are not going to leave it alone, are you?"

 

"Chief—Blair, we can't just act like it never happened."

 

"Why not?  I thought that was one of your specialties." 

 

Sarcasm, now he was getting somewhere.  Blair's fuse should be pretty short.  One more remark should do it.  "You seem pretty good at it too."

 

Blair's fist hit the table even as he stood.  "Okay!  Okay, you want me to be angry.  I'm angry!  There.  Happy?"

 

"I should have told you everything from the beginning, from the moment I knew."

 

"You're damn right you should have told me!  I had a fucking right to know, Jim!  And that's just one thing you fucked up!"

 

Kit Chase appeared in the doorway of his kitchen then discreetly backed away.  He was going to give them privacy and Jim was grateful.  "I know."

 

"Oh, and that fixes everything, huh?  You sit there and say, 'I know,' and 'you have to be angry, Blair," and that fixes everything!  What about 'Sorry, Blair,' or 'it will not happen again, Chief?'  Because it had better not happen again, Jim.  I can't keep taking the hits and getting back up.  I can't.  I'm not even sure I should even try.  Damn it!  Why do you have to be so fucking infuriating!? We are fucked up, Jim.  You know, you told me once my love life was a train wreck.  I've thought about it and I've decided that compared to our fucked up friendship, my love life looks like a tricycle accident!"

 

"I am sorry.  And I told you that."

 

"I know!  I know.  You just keep pushing me, damn it!  I'm trying to get past this, okay?  It's hard.  I can't—fuck!  I can't trust you, Jim.  I know you're sorry, but I don't trust this friendship anymore.  I just keep seeing you standing in that cell and telling me you had another guide!  Telling me to do what I was told!  I was sitting there thinking, 'gee, he throws me out, moves me back in, leaves me in the hospital, accuses me of selling him out, never even says thanks when I toss my future away, harasses me into the Academy, then hangs me out to dry here.  What else could go wrong?'  Then Rose shows me Alex Barnes.  And I'm supposed to what?  Forgive and forget?  Not sure I can, Jim.  I am trying.  I swear, but I am scared to death of trusting you ever again."//

 

That had hurt.  Even months later just remembering the words sent waves of pain through Jim's chest.  He could not blame Blair for feeling the way he did.  In his place, Jim figured he would have walked away and never looked back.  But Blair had looked back, and he was willing to try to repair their friendship.  They were almost there.  They just had one more little bump in the road.  Blair had never said that he forgave Jim.  He said that he understood, but that was part of the problem.  Blair always understood, and it made it so much easier to screw someone over when he kept giving you permission.  That was what Jim had done.  He had used Blair's own acceptance of his mistakes and trespasses as excuses to do make the same mistakes and trespasses again and again.  He knew that now.  He was the one who had attained understanding now.  In the meantime, Blair had been learning to call him on his idiocy and demand the truth, all of the truth.  In the end, though, he would still say he understood.  It was just his way.  But thus far, in all their hours of heart-wrenching soul-searching discussion, the word forgive had only entered the conversation that once when Blair had said that he was not sure he could forgive.

 

Now, as Jim sat in the audience watching Blair ascend the steps to the stage to receive his degree, his doctorate, a somewhat strained smile stretched his face as Simon pounded him on the back.  He and Simon were the only ones to make this trip.  The rest of Major Crimes was back in Cascade preparing for a "Welcome Home" party that Jim could only hope they could actually give.  He put aside the depressing thoughts and tried to let the mood of those around him sweep him along. He sighed then smiled for real as Blair walked across the stage and was handed his degree.

 

He stood, applauding and whooping in a way much too undignified for the occasion, as Blair shook hands with the chancellor of Georgetown.  But he was not the only one.  He glanced around himself then at Blair's friends here in D.C.  They were good friends.  Morrow had become a steadfast watchdog, Pete had told him.  Jess seemed determined to give Morrow something to do, dragging Blair off for one adventure after another when he was not busy with his dissertation or working with Chase.  Kit Chase was still a pain in Jim's ass, but he had been teaching Blair everything he knew, filling in the blanks that before Blair just had to reason out on his own.  Then there was Pete, the man who once left Jim for dead who now would go into hell for someone he barely knew.  The world was a strange place sometimes, but this time, it had been kind to Jim.

 

The rest of the ceremony was dull and far too long.  Jim felt like whooping again when it was finally over.  He waded through the crowds, looking for one curly-haired—long curly hairs, he might add—anthropologist.  Oddly enough, it was Blair who found him.

 

"Jim."  Blair hugged him without so much as a warning, but Jim did not mind.  He returned the hug wholeheartedly.

 

"Congratulations, Chief."

"Thanks, man.  I'm glad you came."

 

"Of course, I came.  I nearly cost you this.  I owed it to you to be here."

 

A shadow crossed Blair's face and Jim wondered if he had said the wrong thing.  Yes, he probably had.  "Besides," he added, "I just wanted to be here."  It was the truth, all of it.  Blair deserved the truth.

 

Blair almost smiled.  "Jim, um—"

 

"So, now what, Doc?  Hey, maybe that'll be your new nickname."  He wanted desperately to lighten the mood.

 

Now Blair really smiled.  "No thanks.  I have enough of them already.  Let's see, Chief, Darwin, Einstein, Junior and those are just the ones you've called me.  Sandy, that one's Megan's.  White Boy!  Kit is calling me White Boy! Can you believe it?" 

 

Jim laughed.  He could not help himself.  But his laughter ended with Blair's next statement.  "Actually, I have accepted a job.  Two actually."

 

"Really?"  Jim's voice shook just a bit and his heartbeat tripled in speed and volume. 

 

"Yeah, um, Senator Adams, remember him?  He sponsored this grant program where police departments could get a grant to hire social scientists, besides psychologists, that is, as consultants to see if their expertise could be helpful in investigative work.  One of the departments that applied for the grant and got it called me.  So I called the local university there and they were looking for a part-time anthropology professor so I interviewed with the department and the school and got both jobs."

 

Jim had been biting his tongue through the speech.  "Where, Chief?"  Did that sound snappy?  The idea of Blair working with some other department with some other detective was making his blood boil.

 

"Well, that's what I need to talk to you about.  See, I don't know if the guy they're going to partner me with really wants me around.  He wants a partner he can trust."

 

Jim's knees tried to give way, and Blair grabbed his arms before he could fall.

 

"Jim!  Are you okay?"  Concern was etched on Blair's face.

 

"Please, just say it, Blair.  Please, don't do this to me."

 

"Jim, I'm sorry.  I just didn't know if I was welcome."

 

"After all this time, Chief, everything we've talked about, everything I've done, tried to do, please tell me you know how much you mean to me."

 

"As much as you mean to me, I hope.  Maybe.  Do you really forgive me?"

 

Jim wrapped his arms around his dense best friend.  "There was nothing to forgive you for, Chief.  It was all me."

 

"No, no, it wasn't.  We both screwed up.  There were signs I should have seen.  I should have fought harder, and then I shouldn't have walked away," Blair argued into his shoulder.

 

"No, you shouldn't have had to fight for us, Chief.  I should have told you everything.  You were right to leave.  I wouldn't have learned my lesson otherwise."

 

"Since you put it that way, okay."  There was a smile in the voice that made Jim shake his head as he released Blair from his bear hug. 

 

"But do you forgive me?  I am so sorry, Blair.  I screwed up so badly.  I never meant—"

 

"I forgive you, Jim."

 

Again, such a simple statement, so important.  "I do trust you, Blair.  I hope you can trust me.  I have missed you.  Come home, Blair."

 

"I'm still learning to trust you again, but I've missed you, too.  Thank you, Jim."

 

"No, thank you."  Jim hugged him again.  "Simon knew all about this, huh?"

 

"Uh, yeah, he sort of wrote the grant application.  It wasn't a really difficult interview either."

 

"That bastard.  I can't believe he didn't say anything to me."  Jim released his guide but kept his hands on Blair's shoulders.

 

"We didn't know if the proposal would go through, and then that the application would be accepted.  We didn't want to say anything until we knew.  We just found out a few days ago.  Then I asked him to let me talk to you about it."

 

"Okay, so maybe I'll let him live.  We have other folks waiting for us outside, you know.  We better get going."

 

"Yeah, I guess so.  Pete swears he's got a slamming party waiting."

 

"Slamming?  Pete's been around Riviera for too long.  Just one more question," Jim said as they started walking to the door.  "You really going to work for Edwards?"

 

"Oh, didn't I tell you?  She got fired for what she did to me.  I have a formal apology from the school, back pay, the whole nine yards.  Dr. Meeks is the interim chancellor, and he may get the job permanently.  Needless to say, that interview wasn't hard to get through either.  And old Sid is out of a job too.  I tell you, Pete is a bulldog, man.  The way he went after Sid was scary.  We settled out of court for an undisclosed amount."

 

"I knew about the apology but not the rest.  So disclose, Chief, disclose!"

 

"Let's just say between the money that they paid me and the money that Pete managed to hustle for me from that CIA guy, I will never owe you back rent again, Jim."

 

"Does this mean you'll support us in our old age?"

 

"Think I'd rather take Pete's advice and spend it all on fast women and good wine."

 

Jim laughed.  "Damn, I've missed you!"

 

Blair smiled.  "Well, I'm back now.  We can do this, Jim.  We can make this work."

 

"And we will, Chief.  I promise you, we will."

 

"Sentinel and guide."

 

"Yeah, but more than that.  Brothers."

 

"I can deal with that." 

 

They walked out of the auditorium together, and for the first time in over a year, Jim was truly happy.  Happiness was a fragile thing, he knew, but there were things that he understood now, lessons he had learned that would make happiness a little easier to hold onto.  The sentinel had finally learned to see the colors, learned to hear the whispers of the heart, learned to feel and accept his own emotions.  The education was painful, but the rewards were many.

 

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The end…