"That's strange," Blair said as he looked at the picture half cut from its frame and drooping down in a way that reminded Blair of a dog's ear, the way it folded over itself.

"And, but, or, yet, so?" Rafe asked in an exaggerated tone of voice.

"Oh, man, you watch entirely too much Stargate," Blair laughed. He hadn't pegged Rafe as a sci-fi fan, but then again, Blair had learned that people were often more than they appeared to be.

"What? I'm not," Rafe protested. "Now Law and Order... that's a seriously good show."

"Don't give me that; you're quoting Stargate."

"I did not," Rafe insisted, and now Blair could see Rafe start to blush.

"And, but, or, yet, so?" Blair repeated. "That's classic O'Neill."

"It's just a saying, Hairboy," Rafe said, picking up on Henry's favorite nickname. Blair wondered why all his nicknames seemed to focus on his hair. He also had a flashing thought that the assignment of communal nicknames could be an interesting topic for a paper. He let that thought go.

"The only person I've ever heard say it is Colonel O'Neill. Just saying," Blair quickly added when Rafe opened his mouth to protest again. "Now this is different," Blair said as he gestured toward the painting. "If these guys are such pro's, why would they leave a job half done?"

"Good question," Rafe answered as he walked around the armchair in the lavish study so that he could look at the painting from the side as the techs fingerprinted everything around. Blair didn't expect them to find anything, especially since Jim hadn't found a single clue despite the three crime scenes he'd visited. Simon had finally pulled Jim off to deal with a homicide leaving Rafe and Blair to handle the rash of art thefts from private homes.

"I suppose they could have been interrupted," Blair thought out loud as he circled to the opposite side.

"And what interrupted them?" Rafe asked.

"Something or someone that didn't trip the alarm or call the police."

"And that someone or something is now... where?"

"Somewhere else, and yeah, this theory is not really working," Blair said without bitterness. As a scientist, he knew the value of challenging a hypothesis.

"Not really," Rafe agreed.

"Could they have had an accomplice who pulled them out for some reason, maybe buzzed their phone?"

"And why do that?" Blair took his turn at asking the questions.

"Because... okay, you got me there. I have no idea."

"Okay, let's take a step back," Blair said as he walked out to the garden room where a neat hole had been cut in the glass door. "I come in looking for art work. I've obviously cased the place..."

"And you watch way too many bad detective shows if you think in terms of 'casing a place,'" Rafe interrupted.

"Whatever, man. I'm looking for art, and I go straight for the study because I know that Roberts has an original Dorothea Tanning in there." Blair stopped and Rafe picked up the story.

"And you're obviously an idiot because you start taking the painting and then abandon a $30,000 piece of art for no reason." Rafe had no more than said the words when he looked over at Blair with an expression of revelation. Blair smiled as he had the same thought.

"We need to take this painting back to the lab," Blair said.

"Indeed," Rafe said with a deadpan voice.

"No kidding. I can't believe all that stuff was forged."

"What people won't do to keep up a front, huh?" Rafe said as he straightened up.

"You mean, like hiding a little Stargate obsession?"

"Or hiding a relationship," Rafe shot back, and then the man instantly stepped back as he flushed slightly. "I'm sorry. That's really not my business," he quickly added.

"Whoa. I have never hid my relationship, and if I don't go waving it in people's faces, I think I have my reasons."

"I know. It was a stupid thing to say," Rafe quickly agreed.

"Then why did you bring it up?" Blair demanded. He wasn't about to let this slide. If there was a problem, he would rather have it out right up front.

"No problem," Rafe insisted in a tone of voice that begged Blair to drop the matter.

"Oh man, cough it up."

"Blair, let's not go there."

"Oh, let's."

"Fine. I just think it's pretty crappy that you were hiding behind all those women."

"Wha... all what women?"

"Oh come on, you had a parade of love interests that you used to trot out. I mean, poor Sam."

"Poor Sam?" Blair nearly squeaked. He could think of many words to describe Sam, who he still considered a friend, but poor wasn't one of them. Brilliant, beautiful, arrogant and terrifying maybe, but not poor.

"You used her."

"I dated her!"

"When you were interested in him!"

"Whoa, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You and Ellison."

"Ellison and I weren't an 'us' until we came back from Phoenix. I never used Sam or any of those other women to put up some front."

"You mean... you two weren't…?" Rafe's voice trailed off in confusion.

"Man, I am as wysiwyg as they come. What you see is what you get."

Rafe snorted. "If you think that's true, then you were putting on a front for yourself because everyone except you and Ellison already knew you two loved each other." Rafe answered. Blair opened his mouth to respond, but then he closed it again. He had already come to a similar conclusion himself. Blair shrugged as he took the lab report and added it to the art theft file.

"Whatever," Blair answered. After all, he couldn't change the past now.