Disclaimer: We don't own any of these guys, they are the brainchild and property of: Rysher, Panzer/Davis, Greg Widen, Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo, Paramount, Pet Fly Productions, UPN and a bunch of other people. No money made, no harm intended. It's all in good fun, don't take us too seriously.

Attention: This is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. Expect things to be wacky.

That said, this story takes place in it's own time period. Zen&nancy no longer feel the need to comply to TPTB's time lines.

Story title and lyrics borrowed without permission from Bob Marley (r.i.p.)

Mucho thanks to Suze for always being there, and to MoonPuppy, who is crazy enough to be resident beta at the House Of Slack, and the wonderful people who have written us, we're still in shock that people like this soap opera.

Vive la RSM!


Three Little Birds

Part 41

By Zen&nancy


Six Months Later...

"I'm really glad that I was able to talk you into coming with me, Methos." Duncan stretched in his first class seat, turning to face his companion.

"You wait until we're five thousand feet in the air to drop the other shoe, is that it, Mac?" Methos squinted his eyes into his familiar expression of suspicion. Duncan spoke quickly to defend himself.

"No, not at all. Why are you always so cynical? It's going to be a wonderful trip. Why does there have to be a catch?"

"Not a catch, just a motive." Methos signaled to the flight steward for another drink, lifting a lazy hand to offer his empty glass.

Duncan shrugged, looking quickly away from Methos when he spoke. "Just company."

"And?" Methos accepted his drink with a smile of thanks, without taking his eyes off Duncan.

"And, I'm afraid I'm going to miss Blair and Jim terribly and get drunk in my hotel room alone every night if left to my own devices," Duncan finally admitted, feeling a quick sense of relief for having said it. As much as he wanted to attend the auction, he hated the idea of being separated from the two people most important to him.

"Unbelievable. It's only a few days, Mac. Surely you can survive without him for that long."

"Without either of them," Duncan corrected, frowning, "And the answer is yes, of course I can."

"Good. I don't like the idea of you becoming dependent on them, as they are to each other. It's not wise, Mac."

"Lecture me some other time, we're on vacation, Dr. Pierson."

Methos' eyes laughed back at him, the hint of a smile shadowing his mouth. "I was on vacation in the first place."

"Well, this is a holiday from that." Duncan told him reasonably, thinking about Amanda's characteristically quick exit from their lives, and how Methos had stayed in Seacouver, keeping the apartment that he and Amanda had rented. "Besides, I'm going to need your expert opinion at the auction."

"You know as much about books as I do, Mac. You're the antique expert; I'm just old."

"Ah, but this is going to be a very special collection. Besides, you never know when an old chronicle is going to pop up."

Methos sank further into his seat, smiling at the suggestion. "There is that. If I find anything of mine there, I'm making you buy it for me."

"Deal."


The hot water felt wonderful on Jim's back muscles, and he sighed as he rolled his shoulders under the spray of the shower. He'd said his good-byes to Duncan and Adam early this morning, and then gone on a long run by himself, after watching Adam's SUV for several blocks as they drove away. He was glad for the time alone with Blair, but it would be strange without Duncan. Yet again Jim found himself marveling at how his life had changed, and how relatively easy it had been to slip into Duncan and Blair's life together. This was home now, and Jim wouldn't want it any other way. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined himself being so deeply and profoundly happy in such an unconventional relationship, but he was.

Even his job was starting to feel comfortable and familiar. At first he'd had a hard time adjusting to the new police force and his new partner, but now, with six months on the job, he was finally starting to feel like he belonged there. Even though he had brought home quite a few reports that he needed to catch up on, he was incredibly grateful for having the whole weekend off. Ever since he started on the Seacouver P.D. he's been working swing shifts, paying his dues and proving himself as the new guy on the force. A good sign that he was gaining ground was that his captain had been generous enough to finally give him a whole weekend off.

While Jim was shutting off the shower and toweling off, Blair burst in on him.

"Sorry man, nature's calling," a very frumpled and naked Blair mumbled, as he beelined for the toilet.

The sight of him, standing and pissing with his eyes closed, hair sticking out every which way, made Jim chuckle. He wondered if Blair was going to fall back asleep, standing up and taking a leak.

"I'm awake," Blair mumbled as he flushed the toilet.

At first it had seriously freaked Jim out, how connected they'd become. The first time Blair answered a question that Jim had never given voice to, only thought of, Jim got what Blair called "the woogies." Now that he was used to it, it just made him feel closer to Blair.

"Sure you are," Jim teased as he wiped the steam from the mirror so he could shave.

"I don't want to be." Blair's voice was still thick from sleep. "How about I convince you to come back to bed with me? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, Jim, you are looking really good standing there, all wet and naked."

Blair's appreciative stare warmed Jim, but he couldn't help but laugh at his partners libido. "Your sex drive is a force to be reckoned with, Chief."

"Ya reckon?" Blair asked as he walked past Jim, a devilish look on his face.

Jim was happy to follow, happy he had the whole weekend with Blair, and just plain happy.

"What did you have in mind, Chief?" he asked as he watched Blair burrow under the covers.

"Get your ass in this bed and start generating some heat. I think we can figure it out from there."

As he climbed under the covers, spooning up behind Blair, an image of the two of them, Blair on his back and Jim with his face buried between Blair's legs went flashing through his brain, but Jim couldn't tell if it was his own vision, or Blair's.

"Chief?" Jim asked as he curled himself around Blair.

"Hmm?"

"Did you just think of something specific?" Jim asked as Blair snuggled closer.

"Yeah." Blair chuckled.

"Specifically, me going down on you?" Jim let his voice go soft as he spoke against Blair's ear.

"Oh yeah. Exactly what I was thinking." He squirmed against Jim, his firm ass rubbing enticingly against Jim's groin.  Then he stopped, abruptly, his head popping up from the pillow. "You got that, huh?"

"Like a slide show in my head."

"Does it still wig you out, this psychic connection we seem to have going on?" A hint of worry filtered through the lust in Blair's voice.

"Not really. Not in a bad way." Jim gave Blair a reassuring squeeze, "It really floats your boat, though, doesn't it?"

Blair laughed so hard his whole body shook. "Of course it does, Jim. I mean, did you ever think you could be this close to another person? Far beyond the anthropological implications, I'm blown away by how much a part of me you are. We're more in tune with each other now than most people can even imagine. I'm aware of you on levels I don't even understand."

Jim buried his nose in Blair's hair, thinking that sometimes he still felt as though he could never get close enough to Blair. No matter how connected they were, Jim knew he would always want more of Blair. He held Blair tightly, the intensity of the moment overwhelming him.

"Me too, man, me too." Blair murmured as he turned in Jim's arms, rolling over so they were facing each other, with not an inch of space between them. He burrowed into Jim's neck, and Jim marveled at how perfectly they fit together. "Never get enough of you, Jim, never."

He felt Blair's words deep down in soul, and Jim needed to be closer, needed more with an urgency that always shocked him. Blair's hand slid up Jim's shoulder to curl around the back of his head, pulling Jim down into a fiery kiss. For a man who always complained about the cold, Blair's mouth was like a furnace. Jim dove into the heat of Blair's mouth, his tongue stroking Blair's, their lips dancing. They moaned as one, moved as one, and Jim lost himself and became a part of the whole that he and Blair created. He was peripherally aware of them rolling, Blair lying on his back and pulling Jim on top of him, but more than anything he was lost in the feeling of oneness.

Blair's hands holding his face stilled their constant kissing. Jim opened his eyes to see Blair, but he already knew what he would see... Blair's hair, even more unruly than usual, because Jim could never keep his hands out of the silky curls; smoky blue eyes, dark with passion; Blair's lips swollen from so much kissing. No matter how many times Jim saw Blair like this, no matter how familiar this sight had become, Jim was always staggered by the beauty of Blair's passion.

For endless minutes they stayed like that; Jim settled comfortably between Blair's legs, his elbows holding most of his weight, his hands buried in Blair's hair, Blair's hands holding either side of Jim's jaw, his fingers stroking Jim's face. Time froze, the world faded away, and nothing existed but Sentinel and Guide, as one.

Then the moment passed, and as the image they had shared earlier popped into Jim's head, a lecherous smile slowly spread across Blair's face. He rocked his hips into Jim's belly, his hard-on sliding across Jim's skin making Jim practically growl as his own erection pulsed with need.

Jim smiled back, love and lust and need and want rolling around inside him, spurring him to move. He took his time as he worked his way down Blair's body. He rubbed his jaw and mouth across Blair's shoulders, marking his Guide. Blair moaned, and his warm hands petted over Jim's short buzz cut. Jim brushed his cheek lightly over Blair's chest hair, combing it with his own morning stubble. He licked and nibbled Blair's ribs, feeling Blair's heartbeat vibrations through his mouth. Sliding further down, he sucked lightly on the sensitive skin of Blair's belly.

"Ooh, yeah. You're mouth is gonna feel so good, and you're so into it. Tell me, what you are getting off on right now? It's scent, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Jim could only groan, his nose buried in Blair's skin.

Jim let himself get lost in Blair, feeling like he was absorbing Blair through smell and touch, pulling Blair into himself with each inhaled breath. He didn't zone anymore, not with Blair so close, so attuned to him. Whenever Jim would come close to losing himself in his senses, he would feel Blair, like a presence inside him, pulling him back.

Powerful need had him sliding down, the heat from Blair's cock pulling him, Blair's pungent, heady scent overwhelming every other thought. He sought out Blair's cock with his mouth, his eyes closed, homing in on it by scent alone. Blair groaned softly when he was licked, rocking his hips up hopefully to push his cock against Jim's cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. Swallow me, take me inside you." Jim didn't just hear Blair's deep, husky voice, he felt it rippling over him, through him.

Jim turned his face to push his lips slowly over the slick head, savoring the explosion of taste on his tongue until his whole body was tingling from sensation. The hard shaft flexed, responding to the swipes of his tongue, and Jim gave himself up entirely to the demand in that quick, sharp thrust, and sinking all the way down, his throat closed tightly around Blair's incredible dick.

They easily found a fluid, lazy rhythm. As Jim slid up and down on Blair's dick, every nerve in his body came alive and made itself known. Blair rolled his hips, moaning, his movement the perfect counterpart to Jim's, until they became one motion. One sweaty, grunting, moaning thing, until Jim could feel Blair about to come, could feel the energy change, feel Blair's urgent need as if it were his own. When Blair's hips faltered, his breath catching, it didn't surprise Jim at all, he could feel it in Blair, feel it in himself. When Blair came, so did Jim, feeling Blair's pleasure as one with his own.

His muscles turned to jello and Jim sank down into the bed, laying his head in the crook of Blair's hip, feeling as if he was floating about a foot short of the ceiling, as if they were floating, still together, always connected. As he slowly started to come back to himself, Jim became aware of the fact that he had come all over the bed, and now he was sprawled in the slowly drying mess. Even the clammy feeling couldn't put a damper on the bliss that was flowing through his body.

"Magic." Blair sighed. He picked his head up off the pillow and looked down at Jim, smiling. "That's the only word I can find that comes close to this. Magic, man, just magic."

Jim chuckled as he pulled himself up from the bed, scooting up and lying next to Blair, stealing half of Blair's pillow. "It must be magic for a guy my age to able to come without having his dick touched."

"You're not old, Jim, and believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about when it comes to virility, man. You rock my world." Blair practically yelled, and he sat up quickly, bouncing on the bed, and Jim marveled at how Blair reveled in life, how he ate it up, enjoying every bite.

"No, Chief, you rocked my world, from the moment you barged into the exam room at the hospital impersonating my doctor." Jim sat up next to Blair, wrapping an arm around Blair's shoulders and bouncing with him on the bed like a couple of kids.

"You go finish shaving and getting dressed, man, I'll start the coffee." Blair bounced off the bed and grabbed his robe, heading for the kitchen. When Jim got back to the bathroom mirror to shave, he noticed he was still smiling.


Jim brought Blair a refill for his coffee where he was settled on the couch with his laptop and a pile of books.

"You've been researching this stuff for the last five years, Chief. If you haven't come across it so far... Maybe what's going on with us doesn't have anything to do with the Sentinel thing."

Blair shook his head, denying the suggestion immediately. He was sure, absolutely certain, that the changes in his awareness of Jim were about his role as Jim's Guide. Even as he was denying it, though, Blair realized that it spoke volumes about how much Jim's mind had broadened, that he was willing to consider other, even stranger possibilities.

"No, it is, Jim, I'm sure. I just need more information. It's so frustrating! I know Adam knows, knows all about this, but he's not going to tell me, not just for the asking."

Jim frowned, rubbing his forehead, the irritation clear in his voice. "Why are you so sure he's  the font of all knowledge here? Duncan's Immortal, and he doesn't know anything more about Sentinels than you do."

"Yeah, but Adam does. You don't like him, do you?"

"No, not particularly. The man has an ego the size of Cascade, and the first time he came here he broke into the house like he owned the place."

"I know, but he's.... Adam's a tricky personality. You have to give him a lot of slack."

"Look, Chief, I know he's Duncan's friend, but that does not mean that I have to like him. I don't have to give him any slack, I just have to refrain from being outwardly impolite. I can't help it, Blair. I don't like the guy. There's something about him..." Jim's voice trailed off, but Blair wouldn't let it go.

"What, man?"

"I don't know Sandburg, he's... sneaky, I don't trust him. It's like you said, about the hair on the back of your neck standing up, except with Pierson it's in a bad way." Jim ducked his head down, locking his eyes on Blair's, and Blair felt like Jim was looking inside him. "What aren't you telling me?"

Blair felt his stomach roll. He hadn't told Jim or Duncan about Adam's having been a Guide. Adam had never said not to talk about it or anything like that, but Blair had decided  it would be better for him to figure this stuff out on his own, before burdening Jim with it. On the other hand, this was yet another example of how connected he and Jim had become. He used to be able to get away with obfuscation's and withholding information, but now Jim seemed to able to take one good look in eyes and know.

"Okay, look Jim, don't get all worked up about this, Adam and I have had a couple of conversations about Sentinels-"

Jim interrupted him, his eyes narrowing with his frown. "Which you deliberately didn't tell me about?"

"Yeah, I know. Jim, don't get all pissed off at me over this. I just wanted to get some idea what the hell direction I was trying to take before dumping some crazy theory on you, okay?"

Jim took a deep breath, and pushed his fingers over the lines on his forehead. Unexpectedly, he smiled, and reached for Blair's hand, interlocking their fingers. "You don't have to worry about springing crazy theories on me, Blair. I think I'm all done busting your balls over this stuff. Next time you throw me a curve ball, I'll take you seriously, I promise."

"Wow." Blair gulped, his mouth hanging open in shock. "How'd that happen?"

"You really wanna know?" Jim laughed self consciously, looking away from Blair when he spoke. "I think I started re-thinking my whole attitude on crazy Sandburg theories the night you saved my life, and I gotta hand it to ya, Chief... you haven't been wrong about much since."

"Thanks." Blair squeezed Jim's hand.


"I must say, MacLeod, that was a five star dinner." Methos followed him into their suite. "Almost worth getting dressed up for... almost."

Duncan chuckled as he stopped to hang up his suit coat in the closet. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Methos tossing his suit coat haphazardly on a chair as he made his way to his bedroom. Duncan hung up his coat and went to the bar, pouring them both a drink.

"I think you looked very nice. Besides-- remember when we had to do this all the time?"

"Dress for dinner? Maybe you did." Methos teased back, coming back to the sitting room in his dress slacks and a t-shirt, accepting his drink and choosing on of the two arm chairs near the window.

"Of course I did. When I wasn't eating in front of a campfire." Duncan settled into the opposite chair, surrendering to comfort and unbuttoning the cuffs and the collar of his dress shirt.

They were quiet for a moment, sipping their whiskeys in companionable silence. When Methos spoke again, he was so quiet it took Duncan a moment to realize what he'd said.

"I've missed you, MacLeod."

"And I was damned worried about you. You didn't have to wait for Christmas for a reason to come back." Duncan let himself scold. He knew how much Methos disliked it, but it was the only way he knew how to say it, to say that he'd missed Methos, too.

"I'm not your responsibility to worry about, Mac. Do we need to go over that again? Besides, you have plenty to coddle in your own little brood, I should think that would be enough for you."

"I don't coddle Blair, Methos. He's a grown man."

"Actually, I was talking about the Sentinel." Methos' tone of voice was so mild that Duncan could only wonder what stronger emotion he was hiding. Although he'd been aware of tension between Methos and Jim the few times they'd been around each other, he didn't know what it was based on, other than perhaps just their totally dissimilar personalities. Duncan sipped his whiskey, giving himself time to chose his words carefully.

"I don't coddle Jim." Duncan couldn't imagine what Methos could have seen in the relationship to think that he was on anything but even ground with Jim.

Methos' laugh was sharp and bitter, the sound itself making Duncan squint his eyes in momentary pain. "I didn't mean to stir things up, forget I said anything. It's your affair, not mine."

"No, you're not stirring things up, I just don't understand what you're getting at. Tell me why you dislike him, Methos. I want to know."

"I never said I disliked him." Methos finished his drink and got up to pour himself another.

Duncan could tell just from his friend's body language that this was not a conversation Methos wanted to have. It was an important one, though, and Duncan was determined to find a way to get Methos to talk to him, really talk, not evade him with clever banter.

"You didn't have to. I'm not going to defend him, or try to argue with you. I just want to know why."

Methos was still standing at the bar, looking into his glass on the counter. "Seriously, Mac--" He looked up and Duncan was pleased to see a small smile on Methos' face. "I've had a lovely day, so why don't we have a game of chess or see if there's a movie on the television."

"You don't think we can talk about it without one of us getting angry?" Duncan spoke directly, trying to let Methos see his genuine desire for honest discussion without friction.

Methos sighed, coming slowly back to his chair. "Angry? Not necessarily, but I--" He sunk into the chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I do have a knack for stepping on toes. Hell, I enjoy it. You're already defensive. I just don't see what it would accomplish."

Duncan appreciated the honesty, even if Methos was still dancing around the subject. However, in the past what little insight Methos had given him had been invaluable. Also, since Methos hadn't just rolled off a derogatory comment about Jim's personality, Duncan was beginning to think that there was a lot more going on here than a simple clash of personalities.

"No, I don't want to defend him, I want to understand what it is that makes you react so negatively to him. What is it about Sentinels that you dislike? I know you enjoy teasing me about my relationship with the two of them, but I'm beginning to think that there's a lot more going on here, and if there's something I should know... I'd rather find out sooner."

Methos took a long time before he answered, his eyes unreadable but intense as Duncan sat still for the scrutiny. "Duncan... any reservations I have about Jim are, in reality, concerns for you. You must know that first and foremost they belong to each other, and they always will. It's the nature of the relationship, and quite frankly, you're too good to take a back seat to anyone."

"Let me ask you this. Are these ideas based on what you've know of Sentinels and their Guides in the past, or on things you see between Blair and Jim and me?"

"Both."

Duncan waited for Methos to elaborate, giving him time and hoping that he would eventually open up, just a little. One thing he was beginning to understand was that he would never really understand how Methos' mind worked, and that Methos would always have parts of himself hidden, unknown. Logically, it made sense; no one lived five thousand years by being an open book. Emotionally, however, it still bothered him, and he couldn't help but wish that Methos would trust him enough to open up to him.

Not being able to suffer the silence any longer, Duncan found himself just talking, trying to help Methos understand his relationship with Jim, and Blair.

"You heard the story of how Blair and I met at Christmas, didn't you?"

"Oh yes." Methos rolled his eyes, "Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod to the rescue yet again."

"You make fun all you want, but I can't help but feel protective of Blair, you can understand that can't you? Not that he needs it all that much. In spite of that incident, he takes care of himself quite well." Duncan finished his drink, and got up to get a refill, still talking. "When I first met Jim, it was bad, very bad. We beat the living hell out of each other."

"Really? That, I didn't know." Methos didn't sound surprised.

"Jim went through a very difficult transformation in the time that he and Blair were separated, and when he first came back, all he could see me as was a threat, an obstacle in the way of what he needed. It took saving his life to convince him that wasn't the thing keeping Blair from him, and when they did finally start to understand how their relationship needed to work, that's when Jim and I began to be friends. It sounds like it was all very messy, and some of it was, but I guess what I'm trying to say is the relationship I have with Jim, with each of them, really, is separate, not an addition to what they are to each other. Jim and I connect on levels that he doesn't share with Blair, and it's funny, but we have a lot in common."

"Oh, that I don't doubt. I know he's a warrior, and an honorable man, Mac. It's not that I think he would intentionally do you harm... I just know that essentially, at his center, he exists for one reason only, and that is to fight. To hunt and guard and protect. The only real connection to anything outside the physical world he can make is through his guide. What does that leave for you? Outside of great sex."

Duncan felt himself blush, and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. Methos snickered, shrugging his shoulders. "Their sensory awareness makes them rather exceptional in that aspect. Combined with our Immortal regeneration and stamina, it makes for quite a potent combination."

Duncan refused to give in to his own embarrassment, focussing instead on Methos' choice of words, a slow revelation dawning in his mind. "You were one once, weren't you? You were a Guide. You're speaking from experience."

"You could say I've been there and done that."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Duncan tried not to sound hurt.

"You didn't ask." He could almost see Methos' walls going up.

"Okay, well I'm asking now. When?"

"About the same time you were a wee Highland lad. South America. I wanted some peace and quiet, and someplace warm." This time when Methos got up to refill his glass, he brought the bottle back with him.

"Was it a bad experience? If you wanted peace and quiet, how did you become a Guide to a Sentinel?" Duncan did his best to keep the tone of this conversation as casual as possible, hoping to put Methos at ease enough to keep him from suddenly clamming up. Methos never spoke freely of his past. He'd talk about different eras and historical figures, but he'd rarely give Duncan a peek into his own personal experiences.

"A bad experience? Yes and no. I've never experienced anything that intense, and I don't want to."

Again Duncan found himself waiting out the silence, hoping Methos would give him more, or at least answer his question.

"I must say, from what I've seen, Jim and Blair seem to be figuring things out. They seem much more connected than when I first got here." Methos skillfully steered the conversation away from from himself, and Duncan decided to drop it, for now.

"It's fascinating. Maybe you have a few jewels of wisdom you could toss their way to make it smoother ride for them?" He realized that Methos probably had all the answers that Blair was so desperately trying to find.

"Maybe I already have." He smiled smugly, settling deeper into the chair.

This time the pause in conversation was easier, and Duncan didn't feel as if he was on the edge of his seat. The heavy meal and the scotch settled in him, a warm and mellow feeling that slowly spread through him. When Methos spoke again, his tone was quiet, fitting the mood.

"You know, Mac, I don't blame you for what happened with Byron, never did. I just needed to get away, separate myself from things for a while."

He was so shocked at Methos bringing this up out of the blue, that he didn't know what to say, and so touched that he didn't trust his voice at that moment. He didn't want to dredge up the past, and he did his best to convey that. "I may not have known then, but I do now. You didn't have to stay away for so long. I'm glad you're here now, though."

"So am I."


Checking his watch for the fifth time in fifteen minutes, Blair tried to be patient.

"Stop bouncing your knee, Sandburg, you're shaking every seat in the row," Jim grumbled as he put his hand firmly on the knee in question. Blair hadn't even realized he was doing it.

"Sorry Jim, I just wish their plane would deboard already." Blair took a deep breath, sitting back in the uncomfortable airport chair.

Duncan and Adam's plane had been delayed and now it seemed as though the plane had been sitting at the gate forever without anyone getting off. The past few days alone with Jim had been important, giving him and Jim time to focus completely on each other, bond. The depths of the bond between Guide and Sentinel seemed to never end, and Blair was amazed and astounded each time he and Jim found a new level of connection. Amazed that it was possible for two human beings to be this connected, and astounded at how easily it all seemed to be coming together lately.

Next to him Jim craned, and Blair looked to see passengers finally filtering off of the plane. "There they are."

Blair could see Duncan and Adam, who looked haggard after their long flight, slowly making their way down the corridor. Duncan's face lit up when he saw them, and Blair beamed back at him. When looked up to Jim, he saw the same joy in his the smile on his face.

After the initial hugs and "How was your flight?" they headed to the baggage area, while Adam entertained them with animated imitations and stories of the other passengers on the flight. Maybe Blair was just caught up in the joy of having Duncan home, but it seemed that Adam was more at ease, less reserved.

Jim insisted they drop Adam off instead of him getting a cab, as he had tried to do. He realized that Jim was doing more than "not being outwardly impolite," as Jim had put it, and then he felt that connection, that indescribable sense they seemed to share now, and knew that Jim sensed the change in Adam's demeanor as well.

Before they dropped Adam off they had made plans for him to come over for dinner sometime later in the week and regale them with stories of the trip. As soon as he disappeared into his apartment building, both Jim and Blair planted wet, sloppy kisses on Duncan, making him laugh, the sound filling the car.

"Come on guys, let's go home and get naked, in record time." Blair laughed he sat back, taking a moment to be eternally grateful for the love and joy in his life.


End Part 41


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