University parties were something that Blair tried to avoid at all costs, but this was one that he could not get out of, for a few reasons. First and foremost was the fact that it was his department putting on the party in the first place. Second, the dean himself had sent Blair a note requesting his appearance. And last, but possibly most important, Ian Hobson was reportedly going to attend and Simon had been dying for a chance to nail the bastard for years.

It was that, more than the other two reasons, that had made Blair put on a tuxedo and pull his hair back into some semblance of order, to get to the party. Ian Hobson was linked to organized crime and heavy smuggling activities in Cascade, but there had never been any real proof. He was too smart and too good to be caught, at least so far. Blair was interested in seeing the man go down hard for the personal reason that two of his students had become mixed up in the very wrong crowd that worked for Hobson and wound up taking the fall. They were now convict-slaves with no chance of ever being free, their young lives ruined and stolen from them.

Scanning the crowd a couple of hours into the affair, Blair didn’t see any sign that Hobson was going to show up and gritted his teeth. If another person came onto him under the pretense of wanting to give funds to the university, he was going to scream. Hell, if another person came onto him period, he was going to scream.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Professor Sandburg.”

Turning at the smooth statement, Blair was surprised to find the object of his searching standing only a foot away. When had Hobson arrived? In his thirties, mildly handsome with regular features, blue eyes, and dark hair, Hobson bore the air of power that generally only came from nobles or Imperial agents of some kind or another.

Blair shrugged and replied, “When the Dean personally asked me to come, I didn’t really see any point in refusing. We aren’t exactly bosom-buddies, but I do work for him.”

“Well, I must confess that I’m behind that particular action,” Hobson admitted, his gaze lingering.

Forcing a smile, Blair said, “I can’t imagine why, Mr. Hobson, as we don’t know each other.”

Hobson half-smiled in returned. “I can see that you have no use for me, Professor, but I am a fan of your work.”

“A thug and a scholar, how novel,” Blair sniped.

A real smile surfaced at that and Hobson pointed out, “Without slave dealers, there would be no slaves. And without slaves, our economy would come to a crashing halt, despite what you abolitionists think.”

“When you know what you’re talking about, then we can talk,” Blair dismissed, turning his back on the man and walking towards the bar, his heart thundering. It was a calculated risk he was taking. Simon had said that their profiler insisted that Hobson couldn’t resist this kind of challenge, that the man was interested in conquering those he felt were otherwise out of reach.

Someone like Blair, for instance. An outspoken abolitionist, a professor who was well-respected, a spiritual man vaunted for his connection to Realms that most couldn’t even begin to fathom, let alone touch. Hobson craved Blair’s respectability and influence, and the profiler had stated that he would do anything to get Blair as his own, which included letting Blair into his affairs.

Of course, the question remained whether or not Blair could pull off something this undercover. Despite his ability to fit in pretty much anywhere, his contempt for Hobson was genuine. Aside from his illegal dealings, anyone who dealt in human flesh was repugnant to Blair. Sipping at his wine, Blair nodded to Megan across the room, offering her a smile.

“I would love the chance to convince you that slavery isn’t the evil you seem to think it,” Hobson said from behind.

Blair turned, looking down his glasses at the taller man, an act of derision he’d perfected over the years. “Is that so?”

Hobson nodded. “I have a gift for you.”

“A gift?”

“Come outside with me, and I’ll show you.”

Blair eyed him for a long moment, then nodded reluctantly. This could be the opening they’d been searching for, after all. He walked outside with Hobson, noting that the other man walked a little too close for comfort beside him, but didn’t mention it. They walked to the parking lot, where a limousine waited for them. Blair stopped at that and stated, “You can’t really think that I’m going to get in there with you.”

“Blair, Professor Sandburg, no less than fifty people just saw you leave with me. That alone ensures your safety, believe me. And I have no interest in harming you, quite the opposite. I want you, I’ll admit that freely. I want you in my life and in my bed and I want you to willingly wear my Chain.”

Gaping at the other man, Blair couldn’t at first say anything, but finally gasped, “Excuse me?”

Hobson grinned, supremely confident, and explained, “I’ve seen you, Blair, I’ve been watching you for a few years now. Beneath that abolitionist exterior lies a slave waiting desperately to be Claimed by his Master. I know my business very well, and I know the signs of a true slave, someone aching to be mastered and given over completely to another’s care and dominance. You have all those qualities and so much more.

“I have no doubt that you honestly despise and wish to be rid of the more brutal slavery, the convict-slaves and the ones born into labor-slave status. But you, personally, you want someone to own you completely. You want to wear someone’s Chain, and I intend that someone to be me.”

Blair swallowed as an unexpected rush ran through him at the low, sensual words. Hobson had moved closer during his explanation, until the taller man had him backed against the limo, though they didn’t actually touch. Staring up at him, Blair shook his head and whispered, “You’re crazy, I, I don’t want anything like that.”

Hobson’s hand reached out and gripped the back of Blair’s neck, holding tight as he stated, “Yes, you do. Let me show you another world, Blair, one that you don’t understand. One that you’ve been denied, just as your true nature has been denied, because of blind loyalty to your mother’s teachings. Come with me.”

So many thoughts ran through his head, but they were all vague in comparison to the heat where Hobson’s hand gripped him. Unable to do anything else as he stared into the compelling eyes, Blair nodded.

Smiling in satisfaction, Hobson released him and motioned towards the door.

* * * *

The drive was short and Blair followed Hobson out of the limo to find himself inside the gates of the other man’s estate. Looking around, he saw guards at the gates and patrols and thought it seemed a lot more like an armed camp than a home.

“It’s okay, Blair, no one here is going to hurt you,” Hobson promised, putting a hand at the small of his back. “You’re always under my protection.”

Blair jumped a little in surprise at the other man’s presumption, but hesitated too long to make any protest sound real. Flushing, he looked away from the knowing gaze and prompted, “Your gift?”

“Yes, ever to the point,” Hobson agreed, smirking a little.

He guided Blair into the mansion, revealing the opulence that always bothered Blair about their society. Everything was always more, and bigger, and richer, almost no one was ever interested in living life simply. They moved down the main hall to a library filled with books and Blair’s jaw dropped at the sight. It was two stories high and bookshelves lined the walls, ladders set on a circular track to reach the higher up ones, with a cat-walk for the second story.

“I thought you might enjoy this. There are books here that you won’t find anywhere else. I collect all kinds of rare literature, it’s a passion of mine,” Hobson informed him. “But this isn’t your gift.”

Surprised, Blair admitted, “I didn’t think you were much interested in books.”

A smile hovered and Hobson reproved gently, “Appearances, Blair. Just as no one would know to look at you, that you practically demand someone to Claim you.”

Blair flushed, looking away, thankful for the distraction when the doors opened behind them. Blair turned to see two guards and a slave come inside. The slave was a big man, muscled, but not too much so, brown hair in a buzz-cut, and the eyes a pale, fierce blue. The manacles on the slave’s wrists seemed far too heavy to Blair, even for such a strong man.

“This is your gift.”

Shock ripped through Blair and he looked over at Hobson, exclaiming, “What!? You’re giving me a slave?”

“Yes,” Hobson confirmed, obviously amused. “I thought you should know what it’s like to own someone before being owned yourself. His name is Jim and though he does sometimes get an attitude, a firm beating dispels it easily enough.”

“No, Ian, I really can’t accept him,” Blair protested, horrified.

Hobson shrugged and replied, “If you don’t, then he’s due to be sent to a hard-labor camp. I have no use for him, nor no need for him, and only took him because a friend of mine wanted to get rid of him.”

Glancing back at the slave, Blair knew that the pride and self-worth in those amazing eyes, even hidden as they were, would be ground down to nothing if that happened. He’d been to hard-labor camps before and the slaves there were walking zombies. That someone’s life could be so casually ripped away from them by a system that had been in place for two thousand years burned him and kept him fighting for abolition.

“The choice, of course, is yours,” Hobson continued.

Stymied, Blair replied, “I wouldn’t have any idea what to do with him. Obviously, I’ve never owned a slave and I really don’t need one, I’m very self-sufficient.”

Hobson’s grin expanded. “Blair, I’ve seen your office and it’s a disaster. Jim is ex-military and so almost compulsively orderly. He can organize you. Use him as an assistant, since I gather he’s not your type.”

Not my type physically? No, I suppose not…ah…not traditionally my type, Blair thought, his eyes roaming over the mostly bare body, only the groin area covered by a pair of sleeping shorts. But the eyes…they stole his breath and Blair had to look away to form a coherent answer of, “No, he’s, ah, he’s not my type. I suppose…I mean…those camps are terrible. I, if taking him stops that, then, I don’t really have a choice.”

Hobson moved closer to him, running his hands up and over Blair’s arms to his back, pulling him in close. Blair stared up at him in surprise, the confident embrace turning him on despite himself. He murmured into Blair’s ear, “Tell yourself whatever you need to, Blair, but remember that you now own another human being and can legally do whatever you want to him. He has no rights and can not deny you.”

The sharp nibble on Blair’s ear underscored the words and he shuddered, his hands resting on Hobson’s hips as he accepted the caress.

* * * *

Blair had never felt more uncomfortable in his life than on the ride to his loft apartment. It was insane, him owning a slave, and yet he had the paperwork folded up in his pocket. Jim Ellison, formerly a Ranger, now belonged to Blair Sandburg, professor of anthropology and abolitionist.

Jim sat stiffly beside him in the back of the limo, silent and condemning, which wasn’t helping Blair’s guilt any. He was dressed, thankfully, in jeans and t-shirt, though of course his feet were bare. When the limo stopped, Blair got out and waited for Jim before shutting the door and hurrying to the building. The elevator was working, thankfully, and it was only a few more minutes before he ushered Jim into the loft.

Once inside, he locked the door and moved awkwardly into the living room. Facing Jim, he said, “I um, I’m not real sure what to do here. I’ve honestly never owned another slave and I never expected to. I guess, well, you can sleep in there. It’s just a futon, but it’s clean. And you can, you know, consider that your room, decorate it, or not, however you want.”

Not surprisingly, Jim just stared at him, silent and emotionless as he observed Blair.

Sighing, Blair continued, “I’m not master material, Jim, I know that, even though I’m not the slave-in-waiting that Hobson seems to think I am. Or maybe he just hopes I am, I don’t know. I’m going to free you just as soon as I can, but unfortunately, that’s not going to be right away.”

“Why not?”

The words did surprise Blair, and he almost smiled in relief to see that Jim was starting to question things again. “Because I’m working with the cops to bring Hobson down and if I free you, then the chance I have to get inside is going to be nil.”

A frown creased the handsome face and Jim asked, “I thought you were a professor of some kind.”

“I am. But I know the Captain of Major Crimes, he’s a very good family friend and when Hobson’s interest in me became known, he asked me to help out,” Blair explained.

“It’s dangerous,” Jim stated. “You’re not trained and Hobson is very good at smelling rats.”

Blair nodded and agreed, “I know. But it’s a chance I’m willing to take to get him off the streets.”

Silent again, Jim took a good look around the loft and Blair waited almost anxiously, wondering what the other man would think about his home. He seldom let people in, just his friends in MC and his mom, really.

Abruptly, Jim said, “Don’t make promises that you don’t intend to keep.”

Meeting Jim’s intense gaze, Blair knew that he was referring to freeing the other man. Closing the distance between them, Blair saw the haunted look in those brilliant blue eyes and repeated, “I intend to free you, as soon as this is all over. And until that happens, you are a slave in name only. You have freedom in this house, if nowhere else, until the paperwork is finished. I swear it, Jim Ellison, I swear it on my mother’s life.”

Jim’s Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively at the vow and he looked away, struggling to contain himself.

Taking pity on the other man, knowing that many military men had trouble with emotions, Blair turned and headed for the kitchen. “You want something to eat? I’m a pretty good cook.”

When he stopped at the fridge, strong arms wrapped around him from behind and Blair jumped in shock. Jim’s hand gripped his cock, rubbing him through his tuxedo pants, and he moaned in lust, arching against the rough touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched him that heat shot through him, hardening him in short order. Jim sucked on his throat, grinding his own hard cock against Blair’s ass, and that brought Blair’s thoughts back into order.

Wrenching himself free, panting with need and shaking from the encounter, Blair leaned heavily on the stove for support, holding out a hand. “No! Jim, you don’t have to do this, I swear! Your freedom isn’t hinging on anything. You don’t have to please me, or pick up after me, or cook for me, nothing.”

Jim licked at his lips and gracefully closed the distance between them, reminding Blair suddenly of a predator.

“Hobson was right about one thing, Blair. You do cry out for a Master. It’s in your body language and he picked up on it, just like I have. The only difference is that he’s not the one for you. He won’t treat you with respect or love, he’ll use you as a possession to show off, the ultimate in marketing his own slaves.

“I can smell it on you, Blair, I can smell your need and your loneliness,” Jim continued, putting a hand to either side of him, to stare down at Blair. “You’re desperate for it, desperate for someone to own you, to wear their Chain, and it’s going to be me. I’m the one that you’ve been waiting for, Blair, I’m the one who’s going to make you do things you never even dreamed of, and then beg for more.”

The larger body pinned his in place and Blair shuddered at the hot words whispered directly into his ear. It felt a thousand times more powerful than when Hobson had done the same against the limo. There was a…connection…and Blair moaned just before Jim’s mouth came down and covered his almost savagely.

His arms went around Jim’s shoulders as the bigger man pulled him up, hands supporting Blair’s ass as he walked them across the loft to the stairs. The kiss didn’t end, Jim’s tongue thrusting into Blair’s mouth in a heady bout of possession. His legs held tight to Jim’s body and he undulated against him, just as desperate as Jim and Hobson had both named him.

And then he was on his bed with Jim lying full-length on him, grinding him down into the mattress. Moaning again, Blair’s head fell limply against the bed, breaking the kiss. Jim proceeded to mark him, sucking on his throat fiercely while his hands ripped open the shirt to expose his chest. Blair’s breath hitched at the casual display of strength and he met Jim’s wicked gaze with a wild grin of his own. “Fuck, Jim, you’re incredible!”

“Master.”

Blair frowned. “What?”

“You call me Master,” Jim clarified, watching him sharply.

Master. A word that had never willingly passed his lips and one that he’d thought never would. But staring up into the blue eyes that promised forever, Blair knew he was lost. Whatever this connection between them was, it insured that Blair would call Jim whatever he wanted; including Master.

Acceptance leeched through him as he realized that his views hadn’t changed. He still thought slavery was an abomination and that it should be abolished. He also thought that the labor-camps were a horror and should be instantly dismantled. But Blair had been raised to be open-minded, too, and to believe in love, no matter what form that took. Submitting to this man, giving him the obedience he obviously craved, would be no hardship because he knew that Jim would never abuse him or the trust that went along with it.

As that thought trailed through his mind, Blair smiled up at Jim and breathed, “Master.”

Jim groaned and jerked against him, eyes clenching shut, panting harshly. Blair felt the damp heat spread through the cloth that separated their cocks, telling him that Jim had come. Wrapping his arms around Jim, Blair held tight and whispered, “Sleep, Master, you need to rest.”

Slowly, Jim relaxed into his arms, his weight pinning Blair into the mattress. It wasn’t long before the other man slept soundly and Blair smiled again, his own eyes closing, despite the raging of his own, frustrated need. Watching out for this man, giving him what he needed, was all that really mattered, though he didn’t know exactly why that was.

Tomorrow would bring all kinds of problems, but for now, Blair was content.

* * * *

Jim woke alert and on guard, as he always did, but relaxed for a change. The difference this morning was the man sleeping in his arms. The events of the last twelve hours or so were still causing his head to spin, but Jim knew that his hell was nearly over. The last three years of being a slave were going to be done with and put behind him, forever locked away in the back of his mind just as soon as the ink was dry on the paper.

He had no doubt that Blair was going to do exactly as he said and free him. His senses had catalogued the truth of the other man’s words as they’d been uttered, just as he’d been able to literally scent out the hidden need. It was a subtle difference in the people he met and one that was as innate to a person as breathing, the difference between owner and owned. It was a body language so subtle that most people only grasped it instinctively, not even realizing that they were doing it.

For Jim‘s part, he could pick out nuances of more than just body language; there was a scent, a pheromone maybe, that classified someone as slave or master to him. And even though most ‘normal’ people never even realized that they were one or the other, going their entire life in a regular marriage with two point five kids and nine to five job, it was always there.

He’d heard Hobson’s words to Blair and at first hadn’t cared. It was supposed to be the man who would own him, after all, and Jim was ready to hate him on sight. Then he’d actually seen Blair and suddenly, his senses were in overdrive and he’d locked on to the smaller man, wanting to catalogue everything about him. The large, deep blue eyes, the dark curls escaping their tie, the slender, strong body hidden beneath a tuxedo, the scent of confusion and need filling the air as he’d stared back at Jim.

It had been all he could do not to jump on Blair in the limo ride to the apartment. The miserable expression on the younger man’s face had made him want to soothe and reassure, to pull Blair into his arms and tell him not to worry, that everything was going to be all right. He’d kept his thoughts and words to himself, though, not sure what was going to happen when they were alone.

And then to hear those words of promised freedom, knowing that Blair meant every single one of them…it had been a siren’s call. That and the fact that Blair was doing all but baring his neck to Jim in submission.

A little embarrassed at how quickly he’d come, and at so little stimulation, Jim’s eyes roamed over the sleeping man’s face. Blair had been honestly happy when Jim had fallen asleep and seemed just as much so now. It wouldn’t last beyond them leaving the apartment, Jim was sure, since Blair would have to make explanations to his liberal friends about owning a slave without being able to tell them the truth.

Thanking the Gods that he’d been given into Blair’s care, Jim kissed the bare throat and outlined the hickey there with his tongue. After all this time of being a slave, denying his true nature, the heady feeling of again being the one in control filled him. He sucked on an exposed nipple and Blair stirred beneath him. Moving down, he kissed and licked his way over a hairy chest and abdomen, reaching the belt buckle in short order.

When he nuzzled the semi-hard cock through the fabric, Blair moaned. Grinning, Jim looked up into bleary eyes and greeted, “Morning.”

Rubbing his eyes clear, Blair replied, “Feeling better?”

“Definitely,” Jim agreed, pushing onto his knees and working Blair’s belt. He unzipped the pants and tugged them down, assisted by Blair lifting his hips, and then tossed them aside. “When we’re alone together, I want you naked.”

Blair shivered, nodding.

Keeping his eyes on Blair’s, Jim asked, “Have you been with many men?”

“No,” Blair admitted, his eyes lowering. “Mostly women, though there have been a few men over the years.”

“Not anymore. Now you’re mine and I don’t share,” Jim informed him sharply.

Blair gasped when Jim gripped his cock tightly and started stroking. Leaning down, Jim took the hard cock into his mouth, sucking on it and again completing his senses with the taste of Blair. They both moaned at the action and Jim felt himself harden painfully fast. He had to have Blair, had to Claim him, absolutely had to, and, taking his mouth away, Jim yanked his shirt up and off, then shoved his pants down and kicked them away.

Blood pounding with the need to have Blair, Jim stared at him and hissed, “I’m going to Claim you now.”

With a shudder, Blair nodded again, pulling his legs up to expose himself. Jim growled softly at the wanton behavior and lined himself up to Blair’s hole, rubbing his leaking cock there. Pushing inside provoked a cry of pain from Blair, but Jim didn’t stop. He forced his shaft into the body, pushing the tender flesh aside and driving all the way into the smaller man without mercy. When he was balls deep, Jim paused a few minutes to give Blair time to adjust to him.

“Oh Gods, Master, it hurts,” Blair gasped, eyes wide with distress. “You’re too big for me!”

“Ssh, it’s okay, just give yourself time,” Jim soothed, kissing him softly.

The distraction worked, Blair’s lips opening to his, and Jim devoured the sweet mouth eagerly. It was agony to stay buried and not move in his slave’s body, but Jim was binding the other man to him through love, not force. He probably would never be able to tell Blair what it meant that they’d been brought together, words weren’t easy things for him, but he could show the young man. His hands rubbed over Blair’s chest, fingers combing gently through the plentiful chest hair and then tweaking the nipples.

Hearing the thundering heartbeat slow as Blair became accustomed to him, Jim settled on his hands for leverage and started moving. Each thrust brought out a whimper of pain mixed with need from Blair. Jim was barely able to keep himself from slamming in and out of the exquisitely tight body, wanting nothing more than to take his pleasure as he hadn’t been able to do for three long years.

He kept a firm rein on himself, knowing that just a little more care would tie this man to him for eternity. And though he didn’t know much about Blair, Jim did know that he wanted to have him in his life for a long time, maybe forever. That…connection…flared to life between them and he deepened the kiss, desperate to Claim Blair, but keeping himself in check.

Blair arched up suddenly, his legs tightening around Jim, and exclaimed, “Do it! Stop holding back, Master, just do it! Claim me! Take me and make me yours, please, make me bleed for you!”

Groaning at the pleading, but hearing the utter sincerity in the needy tone, Jim did just that. He started moving hard and fast within the tight hole, Claiming the other without any mercy or even angling for his prostate. This wasn’t about Blair, after all, this was about Jim taking his pleasure and Claiming Blair’s body as his. An ancient ritual that went as far back as the Chains, the Claiming used to be only between Sanctified pairings, and performed before a holy Triad in a Temple. It had been used to show the slave’s willing submission and the master’s domination of the slave. To show their oneness at the opposite ends of the spectrum and be blessed for it.

Jim grunted as he fucked Blair, his cock sliding in and out with ease now, aided by the pre-come and even some blood as the near-virgin hole was violated. His balls slapped rhythmically against Blair’s ass, adding to the soft, wet sounds of the Claiming. As his balls drew up, as the lightening sizzled at the base of his spine, Jim could only chant softly, “Mine, mine, mine,” over and over.

The he hit Blair’s prostate deliberately and the young man cried out, arching in pleasure. Fingernails raked fire down Jim’s back, adding to the sensation, and Jim kept the same angle, hitting it repeatedly. Blair screamed, his body seizing with orgasm, spraying Jim with his seed.

Jim humped almost violently into the pliant body, spilling as deep inside Blair as he could, grinding his cock into the abused hole as he came. Panting, Jim collapsed, his cock still spitting come. Blair was limp, his heart thundering beneath Jim’s ear as he came down off his own orgasmic high.

“Oh, Master,” Blair breathed weakly.

Smiling, Jim nuzzled the sweaty throat and bit it softly. “Just as soon as I can move, I’m going to have you again.”

Blair shuddered, his arms winding tight around Jim’s shoulders as he whispered, “I’ve never…it’s never been like that.”

“That’s because you were meant for me,” Jim said softly, kissing Blair’s collarbone. “I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing, Blair, and I’m going to do it as often as we can. I’m going to give you what you didn’t even know you needed. I’m going to take care of you and you’re never going to need for anything ever again.”

Shaking, Blair pressed his face against Jim’s throat and mumbled, “I think I love you, Master. I don’t know how, so soon, but I think I do.”

Jim smiled again and rolled them so that Blair lay on top of him, Jim’s cock still lodged in his ass. Holding him tightly, Jim promised, “You’re going to know it, soon enough. It doesn’t matter what the world says, Blair, or how ugly people try to make this. You belong to me, and that’s what will make everything all right in the end. Just remember that, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Blair agreed in a small voice. “My, my friends won’t understand, though.”

“If they’re really your friends, they won’t care as long as you’re happy,” Jim stated softly, rubbing his hands over Blair’s back.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone, but my mother…”

Nuzzling the size of Blair’s throat, Jim ordered softly, “Tell me about your life. Tell me what to expect.”

And Blair did. He told Jim about the lonely childhood that he’d spent moving and living around the world with his mother, Naomi Sandburg, The Abolitionist. Jim could hear the capitol letters in Blair’s voice as he said that and hid a smile. Blair talked about learning about the native cultures that were an odd mix of Imperial and tribal, learning their languages and ways of life. He explained about being a sixteen year old boy at Ranier, about how he’d been both held up as an example by the adults and hated by the other students.

He explained the unlikely friendship that had developed between himself and Joel Taggart, a bomb squad captain, and how the detectives at Major Crime had taken him in, first as a kind of mascot, then as a real consultant and friend. He talked about his work as both an Abolitionist, following in his mother’s footsteps, and his research into the one passion she’d never been able to talk him out of: Sentinels.

Blair finished with the pressure always on him from the university and his mother, both expecting him to perform miracles, though different kinds. He spoke softly of the separation from the world at large because he was shy by nature, but unable to be so because of who he was and the position he was expected to uphold. His only true friends were the detectives in major crimes, their blunt, honest world something that Blair had latched onto from the first. No one there expected him to be anything but himself and talked to him as an equal, but cared for him too, keeping him from the people who tried to hurt him.

When Blair finally ran out of words, Jim just held on to him, running his hands soothingly up and down the curve of Blair’s spine. After a long silence, Jim finally said, “You don’t have to be strong anymore, Blair, not now that I’m here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner to take all that burden from you.”

“What happened? C-can I ask?”

Jim sighed, but nodded. He didn’t want anything but honesty between them. “I was a Ranger, working in South America to put down insurgents, or so my team was told. When we got there, we were shot down. Everyone died except for me.”

“Oh, Master, I’m sorry.”

Smiling at the murmur, Jim kissed his temple and continued, “I lived with a local tribe for about eighteen months, learned their language and their customs. When a rescue team finally found me, they assumed that I’d gone native and AWOL, and I was arrested. My lawyer at the courts-martial got me leniency and though I was sold as a slave, I didn’t have convict status and so could go to a private home. Not that I went to one.”

“What happened?” Blair asked, when Jim fell silent.

“Colonel Oliver, the man who was supposedly in charge of my operation, bought me. I know he was behind the whole thing, but I don’t know why,” Jim admitted, the familiar anger rising to the surface. Taking a breath, he said, “I took a lot of shit from him for the six months he owned me on the hopes that I could find some hard evidence linking him to what happened to my team, but it never happened. Then he sold me to Hobson, which wasn’t a slice of heaven either, but by then I was just waiting for my chance to escape.”

“Even with a tracker implant?” Blair asked, surprised.

Nodding, Jim said, “I know people who could get it out for a price, and I’ve got more than enough stashed away to cover it. You don’t get to my rank without making contacts.”

After a silent moment, Blair questioned, “What’s going to happen when I free you? Can I free you?”

Jim’s arms tightened around him and he answered, “You can. Because I didn’t get convict status, you can free me. Thank the Gods for that lawyer who believed me. As for what’s going to happen, I’m going to buy you a Chain and put it around your throat the first moment I can.”

Blair blushed and snuggled against him. “I thought your assets belonged to the state now.”

“Well sure, the ones they know about,” Jim teased. “One good thing my old man taught me was how to diversify. My brother Stevie has a good portion of my money safely under lock and key in a trust. He never lost faith in me, even when our fighting was at its ugliest. Once I’m free, he’ll gift the money back to me. That should tie us over until I can find work.”

“What about…can I still teach?”

Hearing the uncertainty in Blair’s voice, Jim said, “Your life is going to change, Blair, and whether or not you can still teach once you become mine legally is up to how liberal Ranier really is. I won’t stop you from teaching, not if it means a lot to you, but I don’t know if you’ll be able to.”

Blair sighed. “Well, it’s not as if my mother taught me to do things the easy way.”

Chuckling, Jim lifted his head from the pillow to kiss Blair. “It’s going to be hard, I won’t cushion it for you, but we can get through it.”

“I know,” Blair agreed, sighing happily this time. He squirmed a little, his ass squeezing around Jim’s cock and gasped, “I know it’s going to kill me by the time you take it out, but I’m up for another go if you are.”

Jim grinned and ordered, “Sit up.”

Blair obeyed instantly, gasping as the cock was pushed deeper into his body by the new position. Gripping Blair’s hips, Jim moved him back and forth, groaning as his cock was massaged by the tight body surrounding it. Planting his feet on the mattress, he shoved his hips up, driving his cock into Blair as Blair came down on him. It was a frenzied coupling and Jim jerked Blair off just as hard and fast as the younger man moved on him. Only minutes later, Jim came, filling Blair to overflowing. Blair cried out in pleasure as he came, again spattering Jim’s chest with his seed.

Wrapping his arms around the younger man when he collapsed forward, shaking, Jim held him through the aftershocks and promised, “It’ll be okay, Blair, things will work out.”

“That’s not, not why I’m like this,” Blair confessed, burrowing as close as possible.

“Then why?”

“Because I can’t believe this is real. I’ve never gotten anything that I’ve wanted before, Master, I’ve always lived for others.”

Kissing him gently, Jim murmured, “It’s real, Blair, and I’m never leaving you.”

Jim suddenly picked up footsteps outside the loft door and stiffened in alarm as he heard guns being primed. Without a word, he rolled Blair and pulled out of the other man, ignoring the gasp of pain in favor of scooping Blair into his arms and depositing him carefully to the floor. “Stay there, someone’s outside the door and they’re armed.”

“No! Master, wait!” Blair exclaimed. “It’s probably Simon! I didn’t check in with him and he’s probably afraid that something’s happened to me.”

Which made perfect sense, but Jim’s protective instincts were in full force. “All right. Get dressed before they get here.”

Blair hurried to obey, though it was with some pain, given how forcefully he’d just been Claimed. A smug grin tugged at Jim’s lips as he watched the other man move to the dresser and pull out clothes while Jim got dressed. They just barely got decent when someone started pounding on Blair’s door and shouted, “Sandburg!? You in there!?”

“I’m fine, Simon! Don’t you dare break my door down!” Blair shouted back, hurrying as fast as he could down the stairs.

Grinning outright at that, Jim followed him down, stopping him before he reached the door. Blair looked at him in surprise just before Jim pulled him in for a long, possessive kiss. When he pulled back, Blair looked dazed and Jim stated, “Don’t forget who you belong to, my beautiful little Slave.”

Blair flushed, but a pleased grin spread over his lips and he nodded before opening the door.

Jim’s first impression of Captain Simon Banks was of strength and cigars, the black man easily large enough to give Jim trouble if he wanted to. The dark eyes looked first at Blair, scanning him swiftly, then at Jim, giving him a more thorough going-over. The gun was put away as a young white man, handsome and in nice clothes but also carrying a gun, joined the Captain. “Damn it, Sandburg! You’re supposed to check in with Megan or me when something happens, remember? And who the hell is this?”

Blair flushed a little, this time in distress and embarrassment, and answered, “Captain Simon Banks, this is Jim Ellison, ah, he’s temporarily my slave until I can free him after this whole thing.”

Simon’s jaw tightened and he demanded, “What the hell happened? And I want details, Sandburg.”

“I think maybe you should watch your tone since Blair’s helping you out here,” Jim warned, stepping closer to Blair.

Arching an eyebrow at him, Simon asked, “You’re a slave?”

“Three years,” Jim confirmed. “I was a Ranger before that.”

“That explains it. Military make the worst slaves,” Simon stated flatly.

Blair snorted. “Like you know? Rafe, how are you?”

The other man smiled at Blair and replied, “Fine, thanks. And Simon, Jim’s right. Blair’s helping us out, here, you shouldn’t jump on him like that, even if you were worried.”

“I was not worried,” Simon grumbled, moving towards the sofa. “Irritated, not worried.”

Rafe snorted, grinning at Blair as he drawled, “Right.”

Seemingly reassured, Blair returned the smile and looked at Jim with, “I’ll make some coffee, how do you like it?”

“Black is good,” Jim replied, running his hand over Blair’s curls.

Blair flushed again as he moved away and Jim decided it was a good look for him. Turning his attention to the other two men, he asked, “Problem?”

Smiling, Rafe answered firmly, “No. It’s good to see Blair’s finally found someone to look out for him.”

“Hey!” Simon protested, sitting when Rafe motioned him to the sofa.

Jim hid a grin at the sight of the tough, intimidating black man meekly and automatically sitting on the couch at the younger man’s direction. They weren’t lovers, not yet, but Jim was sure it would happen soon. He could smell the pheromones drifting from them both and knew they were a good match. Meeting Rafe’s gaze, he saw the acknowledgement there and guessed that even though the Captain didn’t have a close acquaintance with slaves, he was about to find out from a personal experience.

“So what happened?” Simon rumbled, plainly catching the look exchanged and just as obviously not understanding it.

Sitting in the chair opposite them, Jim explained, “Hobson gave me to Blair as an enticement. He’ll probably stay away for a few days or so to let things simmer, thinking that it will make Blair more eager to see him.”

Simon frowned. “Why would it make him eager to see Hobson? Blair’s an abolitionist.”

“Blair’s a slave, in Hobson’s mind,” Jim informed him. “He’s given me to Blair as a taste of what control over someone is like. To make him even more eager for someone to take the responsibility from him.”

“Blair is about as much slave material as I am,” Simon snorted.

Jim bit his tongue, meeting Rafe’s amused glance, then called out, “Blair? You done yet?”

“Almost,” Blair called back. “Be right there.”

Blair came back into the living room, setting the tray of coffee mugs on the table and bringing one to Jim, smiling. Jim held his hand out and, though he blushed yet again, Blair sat on Jim’s lap, curling up against him as the mug was transferred. Wrapping his free arm around Blair’s waist, Jim said to Simon, “You might want to reconsider that statement. I Claimed Blair just before you two barged in on us.”

Outright disbelief etched onto Simon’s face and he jumped to his feet, snapping, “That’s ridiculous! You’re a slave, you can’t claim Blair!”

Keeping Blair exactly where he was, Jim was about to contradict him with the obvious evidence when Rafe ordered quietly, “Sit down, Simon. Now.”

Startled, Simon looked over at Rafe for a long moment, then, reluctantly, sat back down beside the younger man.

Jim took the opportunity to say, “Once I’m free and this is over with, Blair is going to wear my Chain. He’s going to belong to me, just as he always should have, if I hadn’t been delayed in getting back to Cascade.”

Still shell-shocked, Simon asked, “Blair, is this for real?”

Subdued, Blair nodded. “Yes, Simon. I’m, I’m sorry if this causes you to lose respect for me, but I’m not sorry it happened. I’m Jim’s now, and nothing is going to change that.”

“But, your position at the university, and your mother! She’s going to have a heart attack!” Simon exclaimed.

“I know,” Blair agreed, sighing. “But there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Changing the subject, Rafe questioned, “Wouldn’t it make more sense for Blair to free you now? Everyone knows that he’s an Abolitionist. It seems like the move that Hobson would be expecting.”

Jim shook his head, soothing his free hand up and down Blair’s tense back, and replied, “He as much as told Blair that he’d be disappointed if Blair did that and he thinks that he’s suckered Blair into his world and way of thinking. If Blair frees me now, you’ll lose your chance to get Hobson.”

“Hobson’s going to take one look at Blair and know,” Rafe announced quietly. “I did.”

Nodding this time, Jim said, “That is a problem, yeah. But you can’t use my testimony since I was his slave when I witnessed Hobson’s dealings.”

“So we don’t leave them alone together,” Simon said, finally joining the conversation.

“And how do you suggest I get evidence on him when I’m never alone with him?”

Blair’s reasonable question silenced Simon, but set off a thought in Jim. “No, that’s a good idea. Make him wait for it so that he’s so eager to own you that he doesn’t pay as much attention as he should. Avoid him like the plague, tell him you were mistaken last night, tell him that you were confused and can’t see him again. It’ll drive him crazy and he’ll pursue you even more. He won’t be as careful as he should.”

Swinging his legs over Jim’s, Blair snuggled closer and asked, “Then what?”

“Then you meet him at a public place and get him to talk about his world. Tell him that in order to make a good decision, you have to know everything about him. Don’t ever meet his eyes, because Rafe’s right, he’ll see that you’re already Claimed and know it’s a set-up,” Jim replied.

“We’ll get everything on tape and then we’ll have enough for a search warrant,” Simon said, growing excited. “And with the information that you can give us, we’ll know exactly where to look for the most damning evidence on him!”

“It would be my pleasure,” Jim agreed, grimly satisfied.

* * * *

Blair could hardly believe that Rafe and Simon took the news of him and Jim so well, barely batting an eyelash. They hammered out the details, Jim falling easily into working mode with the other two men, but Blair just listened at that point. He relaxed against his new Master with something akin to adoration. He finally felt…complete…was the best way to put it. No matter what happened, Jim was right, they would face it together and be fine.

Without realizing it, he must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, he was being lifted into the air as though he weighed nothing. Half-aware, Blair snuggled against Jim’s chest, one arm tossed over a shoulder and the other hanging in the air. He was settled on the bed and carefully undressed, Jim’s hands sure and soft as they bared his skin. Though still exhausted and sore from his Claiming, Blair rolled onto his stomach in blatant invitation.

Jim hissed and slapped him sharply on the ass, startling him with the action and waking him most of the way. Looking at Jim blearily, he asked, “What was that for?”

Instead of answering, Jim spanked him again, hard enough to raise heat throughout his ass and cause Blair to squirm in protest. A knee settled at the small of his back, pinning him to the bed, and the blows continued until he was crying, confused and upset that he’d done something to make Jim angry. Not knowing why was the worst of it.

Then the spanking stopped and he was gathered into Jim’s arms where he immediately curled into the embrace, shaking and crying. Gentle kisses touched his face and Jim licked the tears from his cheeks. Drawing in a shuddery breath, Blair gasped, “What did I do? Please, tell me Master, so I don’t do it again!”

Squeezing him tight, Jim bit his ear and replied, “You did nothing wrong, my Slave, nothing. When I saw you like that, I just had to mark you again, but I didn’t want to injure you by Claiming you again.

Blair sniffled and Jim tenderly wiped at his eyes before stretching and getting a tissue. Softly, he whispered, “Thank you, Master, but…I don’t understand.”

“You won’t always do something wrong to earn a spanking or punishment. Sometimes, I might just want to see you helpless, or see my mark on you, or to watch as you cry and beg for it to stop. When you’ve done something wrong and there is a real punishment involved, you will know it. I will always be honest with you. About that, and everything else,” Jim finished, nuzzling at his ear.

Calming down at his words, Blair nodded shakily.

“You’re so good, Blair, so perfect,” Jim soothed. “You did very well for your first spanking. How do you feel?”

Blair thought about it for a few seconds then answered, “It hurts, and it’s hot, but you were right to do it. I didn’t care if it injured me, I just wanted you in me.”

“And that’s something we’re going to work on,” Jim promised. “For now, get some sleep. It’s going to be a stressful week for you and I want you to rest.”

Nodding, Blair sighed deeply and drifted into sleep, reassured by the strong arms that surrounded him.

* * * *

It wasn’t until the day after Simon and Rafe showed up that the penny dropped. They were lying on the sofa, watching television and Blair was plastered over Jim’s body, naked to save his abused backside. In the middle of a commercial, Blair suddenly stiffened and pushed up on his elbows, demanding, “How did you know that Simon and Rafe were outside the loft before they were even at the door?”

Grinning, Jim replied, “I was wondering how long it would take you to figure that out.”

Eyes rolling, Blair prompted, “Well?”

“You know those Sentinels that you’ve been studying your whole life?” Jim said softly.

Understanding graced the blue eyes staring back at him and Blair’s jaw dropped as he squeaked, “You are one!?”

“I am one.”

“Oh my God.”

“No, just your Master.”

Blair snorted at the quip and questioned, “How long have you had control of your senses? When did you learn about Sentinels? Do you know your range in miles? How far can you…”

Jim cut off the flow of words by covering Blair’s mouth with his hand. “I promise full disclosure once you have time to study me to your heart’s content. In the meantime, be quiet and let me enjoy the game.”

“But…”

Jim slapped Blair sharply on the ass in silent rebuke and Blair gasped before grinning and subsiding back on Jim’s chest.

* * * *

Their brief foray into domestic bliss came to a screeching halt the very next day. Jim woke just after dawn, wrapped around his lover and froze, not sure what had woken him. Then he heard someone downstairs and carefully slid out from under Blair, not wanting him to wake and get in the way, which could get him hurt. He picked up the nearest thing that could be a weapon, some kind of carved cane hanging on the wall, and padded silently downstairs.

Focusing his vision, he scanned the open area of the loft and didn’t see anyone. Then he heard someone by the stove and frowned. It sounded like someone was making tea? Shaking his head, Jim crossed the living room and peered into the kitchen to find a woman puttering around in the darkness. He flicked on the lights and she spun in surprise, facing him.

Red hair, in her early fifties, slender, graceful, a pretty face and wide blue eyes that reminded him of… Jim silently groaned and asked, “Naomi?”

Naomi nodded, her eyes roaming over Jim’s nude body and she grinned, asking, “I gather you’re Blair’s lover?”

“Among other things,” Jim confirmed, wry. “Hang on, let me wake him.”

He turned and walked away, feeling her eyeing him the entire way upstairs. Not exactly how he’d wanted to meet Blair’s mother, but things happened for a reason. Settling on the edge of the bed, he ran his fingers through the tangle of curls and said softly, “Blair, wake up. Your mother’s here.”

Blair stirred but didn’t wake, instead curling towards Jim, nuzzling into the caress. Smiling tenderly, Jim continued to massage him, slowly bringing him up to wakefulness.

Finally, Blair’s eyes opened and he greeted sleepily, “Master? Something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” Jim assured him, hoping he wasn’t wrong.

Blair frowned, glancing at the window to see that the sun was just barely up. “Then why so early, Master?”

“Master!? What the hell is going on here?” Naomi exclaimed.

Startled that he hadn’t heard her walk up the steps, Jim glared at her. Blair whimpered and rolled away from him, pulling the covers up and over himself. “Downstairs, Naomi, now! I won’t have you upsetting him like that!”

Furious, Naomi snapped, “Don’t you talk to me like that you, you pervert! Get away from my baby!”

Standing to loom over her threateningly, Jim ordered, “Get downstairs, woman! Now!”

Fear blossomed in her eyes and she quickly turned and hurried down the stairs.

Turning back to the bed, Jim sighed at the small lump under the blankets and crossed over to it. Putting his hand on Blair’s back, he said, “Blair, it’s okay, she’s gone. Look at me.”

There was a long hesitation before Blair shuffled under the blankets and peeked out from them, with, “I knew this would happen. I knew she wouldn’t understand. She’s going to Disown me, I can tell!”

“Easy, Blair, easy, calm down,” Jim ordered. “Come here.”

Reluctant, Blair quit the blankets and crawled into Jim’s arms, his heart still much too fast for comfort as Jim wrapped his arms around him. Rocking them lightly, Jim didn’t say anything, sensing that words weren’t what the other man needed just then. This was a woman who had been, from Blair’s own words, the center of his lover’s world for a long time. Still was, in many respects, despite the fact that they didn’t travel together and hadn’t for a long time. Kissing Blair’s cheek, Jim whispered, “You have to give her some time.”

“What if she can’t accept it?” Blair whispered back, fingers tight on Jim’s arms.

“Do you want to be my Slave?”

“Yes!”

“Then whether or not she accepts it has no real bearing,” Jim pointed out quietly. “All you can do is hope that she can and deal with it if she can’t.”

Blair looked up at him, uncertain. “I’m yours, right, Master? No matter what?”

Seizing his lips in a fierce kiss, Jim put all his emotions into that action, owning Blair through it and thrilling to his whimper of need and passionate response. When he pulled away, Blair was dazed and Jim smiled, kissing the tip of his nose as he said, “Time to go see your mother.”

With a sigh, Blair nodded and took a moment longer to collect himself before scooting off Jim’s lap. He got dressed and Jim wasn’t surprised to find the entire regalia put on; boxers, jeans, t-shirt and flannel shirt. It was Blair’s armor against the coming confrontation, something that Jim had instantly divined his little slave was not at all good at.

Pulling on his jeans, grimacing at the fact that they really needed to go shopping and enter the real world again, Jim tugged Blair into his arms and brushed the hair back from his face with, “You ready?”

Blair nodded and agreed, “As long as I know I have you, I can do this.”

“No, my little Slave, I have you and don’t you forget that,” Jim admonished, slapping him lightly on the butt.

A pleased smile instantly surface and Blair turned towards the stairs, renewed of purpose.

Smiling to himself, Jim followed Blair down to the living room where Naomi sat waiting on the sofa. She’d clearly meant to not give them someplace to sit together, but it backfired. Jim sat in the chair and pulled Blair onto his lap, ignoring the flush of heat across the smaller man’s face.

Lips thinned with displeasure, Naomi demanded, “What, is going on here?”

Rubbing Blair’s back, Jim answered, “You’ve already figured it out, or you wouldn’t be so ticked. Or, you’ve figured out part of it at least. Officially, I’m Blair’s slave until an investigation we’re working on is solved. Then, I’ll be freed and Blair will become mine.”

The fury returned, bolstered by confusion and revulsion, and Naomi exclaimed, “Blair, you tell me what is going on. You don’t need some, some Neanderthal to speak for you!”

“It’s exactly like he said, Mom,” Blair said quietly. “I was working with Simon on a case when someone gifted Jim to me. But you know that I would never own a slave so I was going to free him when the investigation was over.”

Cautious, Naomi prompted, “That sounds like the son I raised. Then what happened?”

Blair hesitated before explaining, “It’s…I don’t think you can understand but…Jim Claimed me, Mom, and I wanted him to. I want to wear his Chain and I’m going to, just as soon as he’s free again.”

“No, baby, this isn’t what you want,” Naomi protested.

Nodding stubbornly, Blair insisted, “It is! And stop calling me that, I’m almost thirty years old for God’s sake!”

Holding up a hand, placating, Naomi took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Blair, honey, if you sign over your life to this man, it’s forever. This isn’t something that you can undo. You might think that you want this, we all go through phases of exploring our sexuality, but for the rest of your life, you’ll regret it. I know you, Blair, and I know this isn’t something you can live with for the rest of your life.”

“I do want it, for as long as Jim will keep me,” Blair countered.

Jim spoke up with, “And there will never be a time that I won’t.”

Shaking her head, Naomi stood and paced away from them, then spun on her heel and faced them again. “I can’t accept this, Blair. It was bad enough when you started hanging around those police officers, but that I could live with since there is nothing essentially wrong with being friends with peacekeepers, even ones like Simon and Joel. But this…Blair, have you thought this through? You will lose your position at Ranier. Your friends will probably never speak to you again. Your name will become synonymous with hypocrisy for all these years that you’ve spent railing against slavery! How can you want this?”

His voice was shaking as Blair answered simply, “I love him.”

She stared at them for a long moment, then stalked towards the door.

“Naomi,” Jim called sharply. When she paused at the door, he continued, “Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone unless you want to get Blair killed. It’ll hit the papers soon enough and then you can complain to whoever will listen.”

Naomi didn’t answer; she just left, closing the door loudly behind her. Shaking at her silent departure in lieu of a vocal condemnation, Blair curled up against Jim.

Jim sighed and held him through the tears.

* * * *

They were confronted by a reporter the very first time they stepped foot out of the loft to buy Jim some clothes, just a few hours later. Fortunately, Blair seemed to be fortified by his encounter with his mother. He ignored the woman who demanded to know if Blair had forsaken all his principals and honor and purchased a pleasure slave. Jim gave the woman a menacing look that caused her to draw back in fright, even if she didn’t leave altogether.

Getting in the car, Jim gripped Blair’s arm and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Blair assured him, smiling briefly. “I didn’t expect someone to be camped out on my doorstep, but I guess I should have.”

Halfway to the store, Blair’s cell phone rang and he gave Jim a heart attack by juggling it and driving at the same time. The moment Blair’s heart started beating faster, Jim upped his hearing and listened in.

“And I want you here in fifteen minutes, is that understood?”

“Yes, I understand. I’ll, I’ll be right there,” Blair agreed.

The line disconnected and Jim questioned, “Who was that?”

“That was my Dean, who is probably going to fire me.”

It was going to be a long day, Jim could just tell.

* * * *

Blair wasn’t fired, much to his relief, but knew that that could and probably would change the moment his new status as a slave was discovered. He endured the dressing down for bringing the University’s name through the mud in silence, knowing that he wouldn’t have to listen to these kinds of things for much longer. Of course, if Jim had his way, Blair wouldn’t be listening to it now, he was sure.

Once that was taken care of, they hit the stores, buying Jim everything he needed. Lunch was a welcome break after that and Blair found out that Jim had expectations to be met and did his best to learn them. Despite there being no obvious sign, it was no surprise that the server assumed Blair was the Slave and Jim the Master.

Bringing the packages home, Jim drove, clearly not trusting that Blair’s cell phone wouldn’t ring again. Blair hid a grin at the silent order to hand over the keys and did so without a protest. Sliding into the passenger side, Blair leaned his head on the headrest and asked, “When do you think Hobson will call?”

“Could be any time now,” Jim replied, pulling into traffic. “It’s been two days, long enough for…”

The cell phone rang and Blair jumped in surprise. Flashing Jim a look, he answered, “Hello?”

“And how do you like my gift?”

“Okay, now, that’s very…weird.”

“What is?”

Blair glanced again at Jim as he replied, “I was literally just thinking about you.”

A soft chuckle met his response and Hobson said, “I’m pleased. I thought we could get together for dinner tonight.”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Blair answered firmly. “I have a lot of work to do to keep from getting fired. Thanks, by the way, to your little present. And my mother is pissed at me, too. I’m not in a dinner kind of mood.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps tomorrow night?”

“Doubtful.”

“I’ll call you anyhow.”

“If you must.”

“Oh, I must.”

Blair hung up, shaking a little at the deception.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, rubbing in soothing circles and Jim praised, “You did that perfectly, Chief. He’ll be chomping at the bit to see you now.”

Shooting Jim an amused look, he questioned, “Chief?”

Jim shrugged as he turned his attention back to the road. “Just seems to fit with all the tribal things you’re into.”

Never having had a nickname before, Blair settled back in his seat, pleased.

* * * *

The meet took place three days later. Three very long days later that were both revealing and painful for Blair. Jim could only watch helplessly as the young man’s friends deserted him, one by one, when they found out that he now owned a slave. Some were more vocal than others, but they were all harsh and vindictive, in Jim’s opinion. The only ones who had stuck by Blair were the detectives who worked for Simon, even those who hadn’t known about the sting operation at the time. He had wondered how the supposedly more liberal world, could be so cruel and narrow-minded.

“Academia is a critical and vicious world,” Blair had said the second night, in response to Jim’s question. He’d been burrowed close to Jim in bed after a long, hard Claiming that had exhausted them both. His voice had been slurred with sleepiness, but he had kept talking. “If you don’t fit into their standards, then you don’t belong and may the Gods help you. I dunno what the…”

Jim had smiled when Blair had dropped off mid-sentence.

Now, however, he wasn’t smiling. He waited tensely with Simon in the back of the surveillance van as Blair met with Hobson. Rafe and Henri were stationed in the restaurant kitchen as backup and Megan worked the floor as a waitress. Jim had been almost startled by the easy way they’d taken him into their midst.

So far, Hobson had been pathetically eager to spill his guts to Blair, but Jim knew it couldn’t go on unchecked like that. The slaver was going to demand a sign that Blair had meant what he said at the beginning, that he wanted to give over everything, including Jim, and belong to Hobson. Everything had been recorded on tape and Simon was just giving the order to move in when it happened.

“You little slut!” Hobson hissed in response to something they couldn’t see.

Without waiting any longer, Jim ran out of the van, Simon right behind him, the black man shouting for everyone to get Hobson before he got to Blair. It was the longest two minutes of Jim’s life, getting from the parking lot, through the kitchen, into the dining room. He heard Blair cry out in pain and the crack of fist to flesh and put on a burst of speed. When he finally got there, Blair was on the floor, holding his face, and Jim just lost it.

Unerringly heading for where Rafe had subdued Hobson, Jim grabbed him by the throat and threw the slaver against the wall. His hands squeezed the throat of the one who’d dared to hurt what was his, and he didn’t hear anything save the rush of his own blood. Not until Blair’s voice broke through it, a soft, insistent hum of sound changing reluctantly into words. That was when he noticed the smaller hands on his own, and the tugging to release Hobson.

The slaver was barely conscious when Jim finally let him go, and dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Still ready to finish the job, Jim nonetheless allowed Blair to pull him away, walking across to the other side of the room. He yanked Blair into his arms, breathing in the spices of his shampoo, and holding him tight. Blair didn’t move, just wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist and leaned on him, trusting in him to keep them balanced and upright.

Several minutes later, once the paramedics had gotten through with Hobson and the slaver had been read his rights, which he wouldn’t have for much longer, and dragged out of the dining room, Simon came over to them. Glaring at Jim, he snapped, “You’re lucky we’ve got definitive proof that he’s guilty as sin or that little stunt would have set him free!”

Knowing that the black man was right, Jim refrained from snarling an answer. Instead, he took a breath and apologized, “I’m sorry, Simon. I just saw that he’d hurt Blair and lost it. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn well better not!” Simon groused. “How is he? And can he breathe like that?”

Jim grinned and loosened his arms, asking, “Can you breathe like that, Chief?”

Turning his face up, Blair smiled, then winced as it pulled the mark on his cheek. “I can breathe just fine, Master.”

“That still sounds weird to me,” Simon muttered.

Jim gently kissed the bruise he could see forming, then said, “Better get used to it. We filled out the paperwork yesterday.”

Startled, Simon demanded, “What happened to waiting until the operation was finished?”

With a snort, Jim said, “As a freeman, I can get away with what I just did, but as a slave…”

“Yeah, that’s true. But how’d you know something would happen?”

“Because as good an actor as Blair is, his eyes say that he’s already been Claimed,” Jim replied. “And once Hobson got a look at Blair’s eyes, I knew the bastard would probably react violently. I was hoping we’d get him before then, but there was a good chance it would go down like it did.”

Simon rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, then said, “All right, the two of you go home and get some rest. You’ve had a stressful, and weird, week. Blair, I don’t want to hear from you for at least three days. And Jim…good working with you. Once you guys get, ah, bonded properly, give me a call about a job. We could use you.”

Nodding, Jim accepted the handshake and then turned Blair towards the exit, keeping his arm around his slave and holding him firmly to his side as they walked. Getting properly bonded sounded like a great idea to him.