by Winds-of-Dawn (WoD)


The loft looked exactly like when Larry trashed it. Overturned furniture, stuff scattered all over the place. The scene laid out in front of him was becoming all too familiar.

"Blair!" he called, willing his errant roommate to pop up from an unexpected corner with hands raised, saying "Jim! Don't shoot, it's me!"

Gritting his teeth, he holstered his gun and pulled out his phone. He dialed. Yes, I'm reporting a missing partner. No, he's not a cop. He's... he's...

And there really was no name for the crime of sneaking into a man's heart when he wasn't looking.





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