Blair would never be able to say why he had decided to visit that particular store. He had been strolling around, enjoying one of Cascade's rare sunny days, when he had stumbled upon it. It was located in a run-down looking place by the waterfront; a sign reading 'Antiques' detailed its business.

He walked in and saw it immediately. A beautiful mirror bordered by an intricate wooden framework. It had a mysterious aura about it and he couldn't resist taking a closer look.

"May I help you?" a voice spoke suddenly from behind him, causing him to jump.

"Yes, um…" his voice trailed off as he looked at the young woman before him.

She couldn't be more than thirty years old, with long, black hair framing a pale, but beautiful face. Wide green eyes stared amusingly at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she stated. "I couldn't help notice you were admiring that mirror. It was done by my ancestor, Rebecca Nurse, in 1690."

Blair frowned. "Rebecca Nurse? Why does that name sound so familiar?"

The woman smiled. "She was one of the first women accused of being a witch in Salem in 1692. Was convicted and hung. Her story is well known."

"And you say she made this mirror?"

"Yes. See the pentagrams in the framework? She carved them herself."

Blair couldn't help but grin at that. "So you're basically confirming she was a witch?"

The woman laughed. "Believe what you will. But I can tell you it is supposed to have supernatural powers. It is said it will grant you your most desired wish."

He looked at the mirror. He didn't really believe what the woman was saying, but it was truly an exquisite piece, especially the framework. It would be a great addition to the upstairs room and a nice surprise for his lover.

"Why not?" he grinned. "How much does it cost?"

"For you, fifty dollars." the woman replied.

Blair was surprised by the cheapness of the piece. He paid the fifty dollars eagerly, already envisioning Jim's face as he saw it hanging in their bedroom. Hopefully he would enjoy the surprise; with the other man it was always hard to tell.

"Enjoy your wish," the woman said as he walked out the door.

He drove quickly, wanting to get home as soon as he possibly could. When he got to the loft, he hauled the mirror into the upstairs room. It took a while, but he managed to hang it just right. He stared at himself in the mirror with a smile. He had done a good job.

That night Blair couldn't sleep. The large bed seemed even bigger without Jim there to snuggle up to. It had been two weeks since they had been together. Two whole, long, lonely weeks. Jim had been sent to Seattle to help the local police; they had a serial killer on the loose, using the exact same MO as David Lash. Since it had been Jim investigating the original case, Simon had sent him to help the Seattle PD. Blair's responsibilities at Rainier had prevented him from tagging along.

It was the first time in the three years they had been lovers that they had spent so much time apart. Oh, they spoke on the phone daily, but it wasn't the same thing. He missed Jim terribly; the wide smile meant solely for him, the frequent touches, the tender lovemaking.

He rose from the bed warily, then frowned. The room seemed brighter, the air was cold, he could almost see his breath condensating as he expelled it. He approached the mirror, eyes staring at the almost brilliant surface. There was nothing there, everything was as usual. He shook his head with a chuckle. For a moment he had fallen for all the superstitious nonsense the woman at the antique store had sprouted about.

He touched the mirror gently. "Mirror, mirror on the wall, will you grant me my dearest wish of all?" he whispered with a chortle, then gasped.

A slight breeze flowed around him, the room seemed to fill with swirling smoke and his body began to swirl around with it, making him dizzy. He closed his eyes, waiting with trepidation for the spinning to cease.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't in the bedroom anymore. He wasn't even in the loft. He was in a strange place, in the middle of a deserted street. The cottages and outbuildings around him were those of the 17th century and he whimpered as he realized he was now dressed in tight breeches and buckled shoes.

"Oh, man," he whispered softly. "What's going on here?" He pinched his arm. "Shit, not a dream."

An elderly woman ran up to him, panic clear in her visage. "Child, why do you remain here? Leave... Run. Do you not know what will become of you if they find you?"

Blair frowned at the strangely familiar woman. "I... I don't understand."

She blinked. "Sweetie, listen to me, please. You must leave this forsaken place. They believe you to practice witchcraft; they believe you have caused that child's demise with your potions. They will not take your word that the child was beyond saving, that the influenza was too strong to be fought by such a frail infant. If you do not leave, they will hang you."

"Naomi?" he breathed, suddenly recognizing the fearful eyes staring pleadingly at him. "Witchcraft? Potions? I don't --" The sound of angry voices prevented him from asking any further questions.

He looked in the direction of the voices and saw a group of villagers approaching. "Here he is!" yelled the one leading. "Get him!"

"He killed that child! Catch the murdering bastard! He cast a spell on our crops so we would starve!" another shouted.

Blair stood frozen as the mob bore down on him heavily. Naomi grabbed his arm desperately. "Run! For our Lord's sake, run!"

Sucking in a startled breath, he began to run, his body responding to the command faster than his mind. He couldn't understand what was happening, why he was there. He tried to escape, but he was unfamiliar with the land and was soon captured by the angry mob.

He tried to explain it was all a mistake; that he hadn't killed anyone, especially a child, but no one would listen. He was dragged into the woods, kicking and struggling against their hold, but it was useless. His hands tied behind his back. A cart was pushed in front of him and he was raised to stand upon it, but not before a rope was placed around his neck, the other end slung over a tree branch.

"No, please! This isn't happening, I'm going to wake up any minute now... Please, let me wake up!" he pleaded brokenly.

Before the mob could proceed with the hanging, a shout was heard. All heads turned to see a rider approaching. The first thing Blair noticed was the horse. It was a beautiful animal, at least sixteen hands, sleek, with a shining white coat and long mane. The second thing he noticed was the rider.

It was Jim.

He was dressed in royal clothes, his proud bearing letting everyone know he had birth and money. His ice blue eyes searched the crowd slowly before settling on Blair. The young man felt a shudder run through him at the intense look.

"What is going on here?" Jim asked the obvious leader of the crowd.

"He practices witchcraft, my Lord. He was responsible for little Abigail's death."

"Let him down," Jim ordered calmly.

"But, my Lord --"

"Let him down! Abigail's father told me that he was aware it was too late by the time he sent for the healer. There was little to do, the child had been sickly since birth. The healer had nothing to do with the child's demise. Let him down." This time Jim was obeyed and Blair was released. "Leave us," Jim ordered the mob.

Little by little, all the men began to walk back to the village, until finally it was just him and Jim alone in the forest. Blair looked at the other man, uncertain on how to react. Whatever or wherever the hell he was, he couldn't assume the man in front of him was his lover, 'his' Jim. He would have to be careful when he spoke.

"My Lord," he whispered, bowing slightly.

To his surprise, the other man gave him a wide smile. "Come," he said, a hand reaching out for him.

Blair took the offered hand and with Jim's help swung onto the horse, his arms going instinctively around the other man's waist. He heard Jim chuckle, then brush his fingers over his hands in a soothing caress.

The older man kicked the horse into a trot and soon they were leaving the woods. Blair felt himself relax, resting his face against Jim's shoulder as he watched the beautiful landscape surrounding them. He gasped as the terrain suddenly changed and they found themselves on a beach.

Jim helped him dismount, then leapt off the horse, allowing the horse to wander off. Before Blair could utter a word, he found himself in a tight embrace, Jim's mouth capturing his in a passionate kiss.

When they finally broke apart panting for breath, Jim sighed. "If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up."

"Me neither," Blair replied, placing a kiss above the other man's heart.

No further words were exchanged as they undressed each other, somewhat hindered by the unfamiliar clothing. Soon though, they were both lying naked on the white sand, hands leisurely caressing and arousing the other.

Their lips met anew, sharing a slow, loving kiss, taking each other's breath away. Jim's body covered his, rubbing wantonly against him, causing their hardening cocks to slide together. Blair arched against the man holding him down, thrusting into the welcoming warmth, his whole body tingling from Jim's knowing caresses.

He groaned as Jim nipped at his neck, marking him as his. He thrust his hips upwards, wanting more friction, more contact between them. It was not enough, it would never be enough. He was frantic now, moving his body against his lover's, his hands brushing over Jim's powerful chest and back.

He felt Jim's hands sliding down his back until they stopped at his buttocks, kneading the soft mounds, thrusting down to meet his frenzied pace. Never releasing Jim's lips, he moved a hand down, holding both of their shafts, pumping in sync with their thrusts. A few electrifying strokes was all it took for them to climax, bodies shuddering as they came together, groaning into their kiss.

Jim rolled them around in the sand, their lips still ravishing each other, a parting touch after their intense lovemaking. When they finally eased back he was the one on top. He rested his head on Jim's shoulder with a contented sigh.

"You know it'll take forever to get rid of all this sand, don't you?" Jim asked him suddenly, causing him to chuckle. That was his lover all right.

"We could go for a swim," he ventured softly.

Jim nodded and they got up lazily, walking hand in hand to the water's edge. They took their time washing away the vestiges of their lovemaking, hands brushing over each other's bodies, enjoying the feel of smooth skin, loving the feeling of being together again.

Blair narrowed his eyes as he saw Jim grin evilly. "What?"

"Ever rode a horse bareback?"

"Bareback? The horse or me?" Blair asked, still suspicious.

"Both," Jim replied with a chuckle.

"No."

"Then come on." Jim grabbed his hand, dragging him out of the water.

He stood silent as Jim reached for the horse, soothing the animal who miraculously was still wandering on the beach. Jim unsaddled the animal, taking everything off from girth to stirrups until only the reins remained. He mounted the horse and once again held out a hand for him. Blair grinned and mounted as well.

"Ready?" Jim asked over his shoulder.

"Yes."

Jim spurred the horse at a gallop, taking them across the amazing expanse of the beautiful beach, across the sands, to splash at the surf. They both laughed as the water sprayed their naked bodies like raindrops on a summer storm, watching the birds and seals take flight as they rushed by.

Blair closed his eyes and opened his arms wide. With the wind caressing his sensitive skin and the horse's gallop it felt as if he was the one flying, soaring above the beach, smelling the salty air, crying out to the skies and answering his lover's cry.

The horse stopped suddenly and the wind vanished. Blair frowned as he realized he could no longer smell Jim's musky scent or feel his body in front of him. Opening his eyes cautiously, he found himself staring at the ceiling. Their bedroom ceiling. He was back at the loft.

A dream. It had all been a dream. But then... Why was he naked under the sheets when he was certain he had donned a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before going to bed? And why was his body damp? And there was... he squirmed uncomfortably. Yep, sand on his body. He smiled. Oh God, and he could still smell the salt on his skin. From the seawater.

The phone rang, bringing him out of his reverie. "Hello?"

"Happy Halloween, Chief," a voice purred from the other end.

Blair chuckled. "Hey, Jim. Isn't it a little late for a call?"

Jim sighed. "Yeah. I meant to call earlier, but fell asleep on the bed. Had the weirdest dream about us."

"Me too. Only it wasn't a dream."

"What? Blair --"

"Trust me, Jim. What happened in your dream? You saved me from hanging, right? Then we went to a deserted beach, made love, swam in the ocean and then rode bareback on a horse."

"Shit," Jim whispered. "What --? How --?"

"I'll tell you everything when you get back. I made a wish and it happened."

"You wanted to hang?" Jim asked in an incredulous tone.

"No, you moron," Blair laughed. "I wanted to see you, to be with you again."

"Oh."

"When are you coming back, Jim? I miss you."

"I miss you too, Chief. And I'll be home tomorrow. That's why I'm calling; we caught the guy today. He was living in Cascade at the time of the murders and got a fixation on Lash. We found dozens of scrapbooks of the case at his house."

"So he was just a copycat?"

"Yeah. I should be there by lunch time."

"I'll be waiting for you, Love."

"Okay. And Chief..."

"Yeah?"

"Next time be careful what you wish for."

THE END