“No, that’s not your way. But your decision saved my life.” Ian settled his dry, cracked lips into a satisfied smile. “And that’s how you control the stone.”
“I what? I don’t understand. I don’t control anything.” David had years of practice tamping down his jealousy of Ian’s witnessing history firsthand, while having to satisfy himself with retellings.
“Even though we weren’t lovers at the time, we imprinted the stone as a couple when we touched it together. Remember how hot it got? I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, and as near as I can tell, it was designed to be used by two people, one to travel, one to remain behind as the focus so the first could get home. My desire sends me back in time, but it’s you who brings me back.”
No, that couldn’t be. Ian came back once he’d accomplished his goals. He controlled the stone. “If that’s the case, why couldn’t you return? I wanted you to come home, why didn’t you?”
Ian stared over David’s shoulder for a few moments, and then his expression brightened. Those grass green eyes lit with excitement. “That’s it! Neither one of us control the stone separately. Unless our desires are the same, nothing happens!”
Furrowing his brow, David stared at his lover. Ian’s poor physical condition must be affecting his mind.
“David, when I leave what is your desire?”
“For you to be successful on your trip.”
“And when I come home?”
“For you to return safely.”
“Well, normally my desire is for adventure and to recover a treasure, which coincides with your own and, like you, I wish for a safe return.”
“What went wrong then?” David asked.
“I’d broken off our relationship before I left, so you didn’t really expect me to return, did you?”
David gave Ian’s hand a light squeeze. “I’d hoped, but wasn’t sure.”
“That’s what I figured. And this time I didn’t merely want to come home, I wanted to come to our home. Until you wanted that, too, I was stuck. In fact, I wasn’t even holding the stone when I returned—you summoned me. It must be some sort of safety mechanism so the traveler won’t return at a bad time, like if the house was on fire or someone else was there.”
Things finally started to fall into place. It all made perfect sense. Unfortunately, it also served to underscore David’s guilt. “So, if you’d never come home it would have been my fault.” He shook his head. The gauze across Ian’s back accused him. What had the man endured during his time stranded?
“No, babe.” Ian’s voice rose scarcely above a whisper. “It would have been our fault for not acting like what we are—a committed couple. I’m just thankful that didn’t happen.”
“So am I, so am I.” David brushed his lips over Ian’s.
Those adorable dimples appeared, even covered by copper-colored scruff. “Did you see the statue?”
“I did.”
“It’s us. I don’t know how or why, but it’s us.”
“How do you suppose…?”
Ian locked his gaze with David’s. “One day, once we figure out how, you go with me. But one question.”
“Yes?”
“If we turn the statue over to the museum, reckon they’ll see the resemblance?”
David sat alone in his study, amid boxes of books and other of his lover’s possessions that he’d yet to unpack. Ian had given up his apartment and was now permanently ensconced in David’s house and no one seemed in the least surprised. All that worry for nothing. David chuckled. How foolish he’d been. He could have saved them both a lot of grief if he’d just done the right thing to begin with. Better late than never.
He studied Ian’s collection of magazines as he arranged them on the new set of shelves he’d had built for that purpose. Ian, who was very photogenic, graced many of the covers, but several pictures within the periodicals included David as well. One particular cover caught his eye, and he picked up the magazine for a better look. Flipping through to find the article, he spotted a very candid shot from an excavation in Peru in which Ian gazed at the camera, but David, always a bit camera-shy, had focused his attention on… Ian.
Moving to the next magazine, he found another photo that showed him studying his partner, but Ian was looking at him, too. Their heated gazes weren’t the looks one exchanged with a mere business partner. He checked the other issues, one after the other. What he’d been hiding for so long was apparent to