Chapter Three: Blair

ONE OF MANY CIRCLES

I could move if I wanted to. It'd be more comfortable, that's for sure. Or I could just give Jim a poke in the ribs. It wouldn't have to be hard; it wouldn't even have to wake him up. He'd probably roll right over and give me a little more room.

But I like it here. Hot, sweaty, a major case of whisker burn from where Jim's face is pressed into the curve of my neck, half my body going numb and tingling from his weight on top of me... so what if it's not the most comfortable position. I like it here.

Even though it must be halfway through the morning by now, I can hardly hear anything going on in the village. The morning after the night before....

Jim sighs in his sleep and murmurs my name. I think at first that he's going to wake up, but then he's still again, warm and heavy and at ease. That's why I don't want to move. Even though we both know Vaughan is never coming back, I guess Jim can't stop watching for him. He needs a break from it, and if the price I have to pay is nothing more than a temporary loss of circulation, no problem.

We haven't talked about any of that yet. Vaughan, I mean. It's hard for me to even say his name out loud. Jim never told me the exact details of what happened out there, but he says Vaughan is dead and I believe him.

It's not like I didn't know Jim was coming after me. I just didn't know if I'd still be alive by the time he caught up. Sometimes in my sleep, or when my mind starts wandering, I hear the things Vaughan said to me. I feel his mouth on my skin, his knife cutting into my throat.... Swallowing hard, I close my eyes and press myself against Jim's body.

Jim tightens his hold on me without waking up. Reassured that no one's going to tear me away from him, I wrap my free arm around his waist and try to relax.

This is new for me. The sleeping together part, that is, not the sex. Sure, I've had lovers, women and men I was crazy about. For whatever reason, though, I never slept with any of them in anything more than the euphemistic sense. I could always excuse myself by saying I had class early in the morning, or I had to work on a paper, or -- or anything else they needed to hear so they wouldn't think I was rejecting them. It wasn't that I didn't care about any of them, about all of them. I just needed to know I was always free to go if I had to.

Free to go... yeah, there's one of life's little ironies for you, Sandburg. I'm in a situation that's the complete opposite of being free to go, and I'm happier than I've ever been. A therapist would have a great time with that.

I rest my cheek on the top of Jim's head and wonder what I was afraid of all those years. Afraid of being held? Afraid to let myself need someone too deeply... or maybe I was afraid to be needed. I feel a connection with Jim that I never felt with anyone else. It's like a current running between us. Sometimes it scares the hell out of me, but I'm even more afraid of what might happen if I ever stop feeling it.

How do I make him understand that, though? Every time I tell him I love him, he gets this sad, faraway look in his eyes. God, I wish I understood why. I wish I knew what I had to do to convince him that I'm serious about what I say and feel....

I can't stand it anymore -- I've got to get some blood moving through my body before gangrene sets in. I try to ease my arm out from under Jim's body without waking him.

Doesn't work. His eyes open and he lifts his head. Blinking, he stares down at me. He still looks half asleep. Damn, such a big, macho guy shouldn't be so cute.

"Hi." I lift a hand to his unshaven cheek and smile. "I was starting to wonder if you'd ever -- "

He bends down to kiss me. I'm expecting a chaste, friendly "hi, good morning, did you sleep well, let's find ourselves some breakfast" kiss, but that's not what I get. Not even close. He forces my lips apart; his mouth is pressed against mine, stealing my breath. I give it up willingly. His tongue thrusts into me, slick and hot and -- God, I've needed this.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he slides a hand up to cradle the back of my neck. Strong fingers clutch at my hip as he rolls over to cover me completely. Forget about what I was feeling earlier -- right now my entire body is tingling, and lack of circulation is definitely not the cause.

Gasping for air as his mouth finally leaves mine, I stretch against him and force my eyes open. Jim's staring down at me. He looks... confused. He starts to pull away from me, but I'm not about to let him go. "Blair, I -- " He shakes his head, as if trying to chase away a dream. "Sorry. I didn't mean to...."

Sorry? What's he got to be sorry about? Now I'm the one who's confused. I loosen my grip and let him stretch out by my side. Concerned, I lay a hand on his forehead. "Hey, Big Guy -- you awake?"

He blinks several times; when he opens his eyes again, the dazed expression is gone. "I knew I was tired last night, but... you sleep okay?"

"Oh, yeah." I sit up, leaning back on one elbow, and grin down at him. "Like I started to say before: Good morning."

Smiling in response, he reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear. "You really did okay last night. I told you that, didn't I?"

"Really? I mean -- yeah, you told me, but it was really a good name?"

He shakes his head seriously. The smile leaves his face, but not his eyes. "Nah. I lied. Joramo's a lousy name for the baby. They'll never forgive you -- in fact, they'll probably find one of those big cooking pots you were afraid of -- "

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" I ask ruefully.

His grin spreads. "Nope. Big, brave anthropologist, and the first thing that pops into your head is that the Direma are cannibals."

I lie down again, and he pulls me into his arms. "So? Under the circumstances, I think a little hysteria was understandable."

"Yeah." He presses a kiss into my hair. His voice turns sad. "Completely understandable." After a few moments, he says, "Did I ever tell you what happened when I first met them? It... didn't go well -- they were scared to death of me. They thought anyone who wasn't an Indian was a cannibal."

"You're kidding -- no, I guess you're not. I suppose their contacts with the outside world haven't been all that positive...." I think of Vaughan again, and force myself to suppress a shudder. "All things considered, they probably think the two of us are the exceptions to the rule."

Rather than answering, Jim just holds me a little closer.

We both raise our heads as we hear Kurali's voice from the other side of the village. He's going after someone for laying down animal traps wrong. "He's going to come looking for you in a few minutes."

"I know."

I kiss the hollow of his throat. "And I'm supposed to help Hisi with some new fishing spears."

"Uh-huh." Neither of us makes any move to sit up.

"Jim!" Kurali's voice penetrates the walls of our hut. "It grows late."

Sighing, Jim pulls away from me and gets out of bed. "Looks like 'later' is going to have to wait a while."

"Yeah...." Stretching, I sit up and watch him get dressed.

As he finishes tying a bandana over his head, he comes back to the bed and sits down again. "Blair? Can I... I need to ask you something." He looks down at his hands and clasps them loosely.

"Sure. Anything." I lean forward to try to read his expression. I can't.

"Are you -- " He takes a deep breath. "Are you happy here?"

I'm so surprised that it takes me a moment to answer. "Well, yeah." I should probably give him something a little more coherent, shouldn't I? "Look, I'm not going to try to convince you that this is something I ever dreamed would happen. I mean, when my guidance counselor asked, 'Where do you see yourself in five years?', it's not like I ever said, ''Now that you've mentioned it, I really like the idea of playing 'George of the Jungle.' "

Jim smiles and finally looks up at me. "They would have thought you were insane."

"They usually thought that anyway," I tell him cheerfully. More softly, I add, "I'm happy here, Jim. Really. And... I'm happy with you."

He nods, and reaches out to run a finger along my jaw. "Good."

"Good," I snort. "I bare my soul to you, and all I get in return is 'Good'? We've got to work on your communication skills." His smile widens, but he doesn't get a chance to answer.

"Jim!" Kurali's voice is a lot closer.

Leaning forward, I kiss Jim. Nothing like the kiss he gave me, but we've both got things to do. "You'd better see what Kurali wants before he drags you out by your ear."

"I'll be lucky if all he drags me by is my ear."

"I need a favor." Hisi's voice is low, and he looks from side to side nervously.

Putting down the spear I'm working on, I look at him curiously. "I'll help, if I can. What is this favor?"

"Mura."

"Oh, no." I pick up the spear again and go back to tying on the curved prongs at the end. "This is not something I want to get involved in."

Hisi leans forward eagerly, black eyes shining. "But she will listen to you, Blair. She is your friend -- "

"Yes, she is. And you are my friend. I would like to stay friends with both of you, which is why you must do your own courting."

Grimacing, Hisi picks up his spear. "I feared you would say that."

I grin at him. "Then why did you ask?"

"It would be much easier if you told her how I felt about her...." he says persuasively.

Oh, no. I've been down this road before, and playing matchmaker is something I do not do. "Perhaps. But she would be much happier if you told her."

"How do I do that?"

I put down the spear again and look at him in disbelief. "Are you telling me you never did this before?"

"Of course I have." He draws himself up, offended. "But I want to wed Mura, not simply share a night with her. You and Jim are wed, so I thought -- "

I lose track of what he says for a few moments. Jim and I are what? Shit. Oh, shit. Yeah, of course the Direma consider the two of us married, I went and got that tattoo -- okay, so I'm an idiot, but it never really sank in....

Setting aside my newfound marital status for the moment, I force myself to pay attention to what Hisi is saying. " -- and even if she does accept me, her father is... difficult. How do I convince him that I am worthy?"

He's asking me for advice on how to handle Kurali? Oh, man. I've been here almost seven months, and I still haven't learned to read the guy. But Hisi's looking at me, like he thinks I actually have some kind of answer for him.

"Well...." What do I say? "Kurali is a father. If you want to marry his daughter, maybe you should try to show that you can be a good father to her child."

Hisi looks into the distance thoughtfully. "I can provide for Joramo. I can teach him to hunt...."

I can't help laughing. "Before you can do that, you must teach him to walk."

He grins at me, a little embarrassed. "Yes." He stares into space again. Shaking my head, I pick up his abandoned spear and go to work on it.

"Oh, geez."

"What?" I look up from my notebook at Jim's exclamation. "What's wrong?"

He wipes a hand across his watering eyes. "Can't you smell how awful this stuff is?" He waves at the boot he's working on, the one with the loose sole. And the pot of glue....

"The glue?" I sniff. "Well, it's not what I'd call pleasant, but it doesn't smell that bad to me. Haven't you used that stuff before?"

"They must have changed the ingredients -- "

My mind starts turning over the possibilities... no. It couldn't be. Or maybe it could. "Maybe it's not the ingredients." Closing my notebook -- it's getting too dark in here to read, anyway -- I turn around on the bench and face him. "Do you just smell the glue? Or is there anything else?"

"Of course it's the glue -- " Jim hesitates, and I can see the look of concentration that crosses his face. "No. I can smell the cooking fires outside."

I lean forward. "Good. What else?"

He's quiet for a few moments. "The herbs you were working with the other day -- I can still smell those. And the river...." Jim stops talking again. A full minute goes by; with each second, my curiosity edges closer and closer to fear. His expression slowly changes from attentive to distracted to completely blank. His chest rises and falls steadily, but that's the only thing that lets me know he's alive -- he's not even blinking.

Alarmed, I stand up. "Jim?" He doesn't answer. I take the pot of glue from the bed beside him and quickly take it to the door and set it outside. Returning to his side, I take the boot from his unresisting hand and put it on the floor. "Come on, Jim." There's still not any response as I sit on the bed.

What the hell is going on here? I force myself to calm down as I sit beside him. Okay. There's got to be an explanation for what's happening. He was smelling something, he was deliberately focusing on one sense over the others -- damn, maybe he went a little too deep. Getting to my knees, I put my hands on his shoulders. Trying to sound a lot calmer than I feel, I say, "Okay, Jim. I know you can hear me. Stop -- stop smelling for a second, and start listening."

I keep talking for a few minutes. Just when I'm about to give up and go get someone -- like they'd have any more idea of what was going on than I would -- Jim blinks and turns his head. "Blair? I thought you were...." He looks over at the table, and back at me.

"Oh, God. You had me going there, Jim." I sit down, but I keep an arm around his shoulder as I explain what happened.

He's not exactly happy to hear it. "What if this happens again? What if I black out again when there's something big and hungry waiting to pounce on me?"

"That would be bad," I agree as I try to rub the tension out of his back.

"That's helpful." He doesn't sound too happy.

Well, I can't say that I blame him. I shrug. "I guess it's just something we have to keep an eye out for."

"We?" He looks over at me. "You mean you plan on..." He glances away, but only for a moment. "You plan on seeing me through this?"

I stare at him, speechless. When I can talk, I say, "No offense, man, but that's a hell of a question. Do you really think I wouldn't help you figure this out, that I'd go off and leave you in some kind of weird coma?"

"Sorry." He stares at the floor. "I just meant -- well, it's a lot to ask of you, Blair. I'd understand if you didn't want to commit yourself that deeply."

He sounds noble and understanding and forgiving. Damn him. My hand keeps stroking his back, smoothing away the tightness. Relieved that I can keep my voice level, I say, "Hisi told me that as far as the Direma are concerned, you and I are married."

Jim doesn't say anything right away. Then he sighs and looks at me. "Yeah. I know."

I nod. "And you were planning on mentioning this... when, exactly? Our first anniversary, maybe?" He opens his mouth to say something, but I don't let him. "Just try to get this through your head for once and for all, Jim. I love you. If you think I don't mean it, just tell me, okay? Because if that's what you think -- " In spite of myself, my voice starts to rise.

"No." He shakes his head and grabs me by the shoulders, gently but firmly. His fingers start rubbing the tattoo on my shoulder, but I don't know if he's aware of that. "Blair, I didn't mean -- I don't want to hurt you. I don't understand what's going on between us, but I need you to know that. All I want -- "

I put my fingers over his lips. "All I want is you. Everything else is details." I can feel the fight go out of him as he leans his forehead against mine. Maybe it's because he finally believes me. Or maybe it's because it hurts him too much not to believe me.

"Oh, Jim," I breathe against his neck. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"You can't," he blurts. "Not after what I did -- "

Pulling back, I study his expression in the rapidly dimming light. "Yes. After what you did, in spite of it, maybe because of it... I don't know why, Jim. It doesn't make any sense at all, I realize that. But I know what I feel." I stare at him. "And I think you know, too."

Without answering, he eases me back against his chest. He swallows hard. My God, he's shaking. He's terrified. "Yeah. I know. I... love you, Blair."

I can't say anything at first. He's never told me that before. "You... love me."

"Yeah." His voice is still trembling, but it's stronger. "I love you."

Snuggling into his side, I put my arms around him. "Good." And his laughter is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.