Control.

By Gillian

"Sandburg," Ellison said patiently. "Sandburg!" A little less so.

"What?" Blair looked up, a startled expression on his face.

"I'm finished." Ellison gestured at the array of opaque plastic containers on the kitchen bench in front of him. On each small container was a label and each label now had something scribbled on it in Jim's haphazard hand writing. "Aren't you supposed to be monitoring me or something?" The detective said with genuine irritation. It had been a long tiring day, beginning at the crack of dawn with a call out to a suspicious looking suicide, followed by a frustrating day getting nowhere on the case. "I'm not sitting around all evening getting high off plastic fumes for nothing you know."

"It's making you high?" Blair asked with interest, pulling his notebook over and picking up a pen.

"It's making me nauseous," Jim corrected sarcastically. "But I can tell by smell, through the plastic, all of the different elements in each container. Happy?"

"Hmm?" Sandburg was absorbed now, picking up the numbered containers one by one and making notes on his pad.

Ellison gritted his teeth. "I'm finished crawling through the maze now," he said in a sing-song voice. "Time to put me back in my cage."

"Umm," Sandburg agreed and Jim shook his head in exasperation, watching as the young scientist made note after note in his pad. Once Sandburg got into his work he was as zoned as a Sentinel. Well, usually anyway. Today he had seemed particularly distracted.

Jim told himself it was none of his business. "Where are we going for dinner tonight?" Jim rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Lunch had been meager and a long time ago, and the tiny amount of chili in one of the containers had given the cop a hankering for spicy food. Or as spicy as he could handle now, even with control of his senses improving every day. When he received no answer he tapped a finger tip on Sandburg's pad. "Blair." He said sharply.

"Hmm?" The younger man peered up at Jim through his glasses, blinking as if he had forgotten the cop was still there.

"I said dinner," Jim repeated. "Patty's Chili Dogs. Okay?"

"Oh, no thanks, Jim. I'm a little tired. You go ahead though."

Unaccountably disappointed at the breaking of their Friday night routine Ellison shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. Blair... You okay?"

Sandburg looked up again, his absorbed expression fading a little. He smiled amiably at Jim. "I'm fine," he assured his friend firmly. Jim shrugged again and left it at that.

-000-

Maybe I'm getting too dependant on him, Jim thought as he lay wakeful in his bed that night, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling. A tracery of moonlight crept slowly across the washed out surface and for just a moment Jim sharpened his view, pupils expanding to absorb every particle of light around him. The blue moonlight suddenly gleamed like neon, throwing every corner of the room open to view, bathed in the weird glow until even the dust motes suspended in the air were visible. Blinking, Ellison refocused on the room, watching curiously as the bright glow faded. Control of his Sentinel senses was easier and most of that credit was due to Sandburg, Jim admitted that freely. But how wise was it for him to become dependant on the younger man? He was beginning to rely on the sound of his voice, the reassuring touch of his hands. Sometimes, when he was zoned, it was only that calm clear voice that could reach him. Not even the words really, just the unmistakable cadence of Blair's voice, penetrating into that place his other senses retreated to when one sense sharpened and expanded. And then when he left that place and emerged back into the world, the first thing he would feel was Blair's hands on him, holding him up when even his legs seemed to fail him. That kind of reliance was pretty scary to a guy used to flying solo.

And then there was this feeling tonight, when Blair had looked at him through distracted eyes and turned down his invitation. The feeling of disappointment at not being able to spend that leisurely time in each others company that he had become used to. A man just couldn't afford to let someone, anyone that close to him. Maybe it was time to suggest, gently but firmly, that Sandburg start looking in earnest for a new place to live. A sound penetrated the edge of Jim's consciousness, just as his eyelids were fluttering against the onslaught of sleep. Faint, distant for only a moment and then way too close for comfort as his hearing automatically sharpened. With a start Jim sat up in bed, kicking the covers aside. He grabbed his gun off the bedside table, unclasping it from the shoulder holster and discarding the whole harness onto the rumpled bed in one easy motion. Quietly he padded down the stairs, tilting his head, again focusing on those sounds.

A low moan, a mumble, maybe a word, one voice only and... deeper still, one heartbeat only, pounding in the walls of Blair's chest. Shaking his head to clear his other senses Ellison swiftly walked across the loft. No-one else was in the apartment, but that did not mean Sandburg was not in danger . Pushing aside the curtain that passed for the other man's door Jim swept the room with his Sentinel vision, checking for any potential trouble, but nothing lurked in the bright moonlit room, no danger was present. Only Blair, laying on his side in the center of the big bed, huddled beneath the covers. He whimpered under his breath and Jim breathed out a sigh of relief as he located the source of the disturbance. The man was having a nightmare.

Clicking the safety on the gun Ellison padded to the bed, studying Sandburg curiously. This night disturbance coming as it did on the heels of Blair's distracted behavior all day was no coincidence. Something was definitely troubling the young man. Carefully laying the gun on the bedside table Jim bent over the sleeping figure.

"Sandburg?" he murmured softly, trying not to jolt the other man awake. He reached out and gently touched his upper arm, stroking the skin there. "Blair?"

Blair's eyelids fluttered and he blindly turned his head towards the other man's voice, his long dark curls catching on his perspiring forehead.

"You're alright, Blair," Jim said quietly. "I'm here."

Finally Sandburg's eyes opened. He flinched back in alarm from the dark shape looming over him. "It's okay, kid." Jim pulled his hand back and straightened a little. "It's just me."

"Jim?" Blair croaked, rubbing at his eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"You tell me." Jim sat on the edge of the bed and felt his own weariness catch up with him. A yawn escaped with his next words. "You were having a nightmare. At first I thought someone was in here throttling you or something." Even without his Sentinel senses Jim could see the spasm of pain that crossed Sandburg's face. "Chief," he said more quietly. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Blair squinched his eyes shut and shook his head. "I don't want to remember..." he said hoarsely and then choked into silence.

Understanding all too well the power of night terrors Jim lightly touched Blair's arm in a gesture of comfort. "Do you want me to go?"

"No!" Blair's eyes flew open and he reached out, fumbling for and finding Jim's hand in the darkness. "Umm, I mean, please don't go yet."

"I won't." Jim soothed, squeezing the younger man's hand in comfort.

"I'm sorry." Blair closed his eyes miserably and reluctantly released Jim's hand. "I'm keeping you from your rest. I'll be okay, really."

Jim studied Sandburg, the long ruffled hair spread out on the pillow, the wide glistening eyes open again and peering up at him in the darkness, plainly asking the opposite of what his voice was saying. Moving with sudden decision Jim stood up and hauled the blankets up on his side of the wide bed.

"Move over," he commanded firmly.

Blair shivered as the cool night air met his sweated body, clad in only thin pajama bottoms. "What?" He blinked sleepily, following Jim's orders automatically and shifting over in the bed. Jim climbed into the warm spot and pulled up the covers in relief. His Sentinel senses seemed to make him vulnerable to the climate and he still couldn't get used to sleeping in anything more that a soft pair of shorts.

"It's cold," he informed Sandburg, settling down under the covers, making sure he and the other man were separated by a good couple of inches. "And I'm tired and I'm not gonna get much sleep in there if you're gonna be thrashing around in here all night." His gentle tone belied the rough words. "So I'll stay here and wake you up if you start having bad dreams. Okay?"

Still on one elbow and staring in stunned surprise at the cop, Blair nodded. "Okay." he repeated, and lay down. The warm presence of the other man seeped across the space between them and the soft puff of Jim's breathing was a steady, welcome presence in the quiet room.

"But I don't think I'll have any more bad dreams tonight." Blair's quiet voice reached Jim as he slipped over into sleep.

-000-

Jim stirred awake with a languid flutter of lashes, a quick contented flexing of fingers. A quiet hum was echoing in his ears, resonating in his throat, vibrating in his skull. Like the purr of a big cat it trembled over his frame, setting his nerves afire, tingling over his skin all the way to his toes. Pleasure hummed through him too, in tune with the sounds emanating from his throat, soft, hot, liquid pleasure, beginning in his breast and running like a live wire to his groin.

Automatically Jim's flexing fingers lifted and found their prey, burrowing into soft luxuriant waves and stroking over the warm skull. Cupping the head to his chest he tugged the busily working mouth from one tingling nipple and guided it to the other. Jim's languor dissipated as he awoke and the situation penetrated his mind. Blair was suckling his nipple, his dark head under Jim's hands, one leg thrown over Jim's body, a masculine thigh rubbing his groin.

Jim's mind split in two. One side of his brain, the logical thinking side, was shrieking at him from somewhere, he could hear it like the vague irritating sound of a wasp buzzing around his ear. That voice was telling him to pull away, get out of bed, stop this. It seemed to be swamped however by the other side of his mind, the one that had been aware of what was going on even as he was stirring from sleep, the side of his mind where his senses dwelled, overloaded as they were now by sensation.

"Blair," Jim managed to croak out through the soft hum of pleasure in his throat.

"Umm?" Sandburg hummed his answer against Jim's skin, sending skittering ribbons of pleasure through him, which was worse, a hundred times worse than the suckling mouth, the stabbing tongue. That hum echoed his own fierce pleasure, beat the logical part of his mind down, shut it up.

"What are you doing?" Jim framed and muttered the question even as his big hands were cupping Sandburg's lightly muscled arms and he was rolling him onto his back. Blair opened startled eyes but he had barely opened his mouth to speak when Ellison's head swooped and smothered his lips beneath his.

Jim devoured Sandburg's mouth, hungrily drinking in the flood of sensation his starving senses were craving. How was it he had been so hungry and not even known it? He had been starving! Now it seemed he was making up for lost time, soaking up the feel of the body against his like a sponge soaking up water. Jim could feel control slipping away from him as his senses went into overload. The peculiar sensation of 'zoning', familiar to him since his Sentinel abilities awakened, was overtaking him, blinding him to all else but the pleasure humming through his senses. Then something seemed to reach him from far away.

"Jim?" For a few disorientating moments Ellison had to sort through the tangle of his senses, did he taste this, hear it, smell it? It was distant, like the sound of someone calling from a far-off shore while he battled the surf. A sound then, a voice, "Jim." It came again, a little louder, someone calling him, the calm tone slowing his frantic movements, stilling his grasping hands until all he could feel was the pounding of his own heart and the heart beneath his lips.

"Jim." Now he could feel soft hands stroking his back, long even strokes from his shoulders over the downy skin to the rise of his buttocks and then back up. Jim laid his suddenly heavy head down on Blair's chest, the heartbeat under him now a strong pulse beating in time with his own. Reality was slipping back into focus and Jim could feel the 'zoning', the loss of all other senses, slipping away under the stroking hands, feeling each individual finger, each distinctive fingerprint as the digits ran gently over his back, just touching the rise of his buttocks where the seam of his shorts rode and then skimming back to the shoulder blades.

"Don't stop touching me," Jim muttered against the silky skin of Blair's breast. "I need... it feels so.. please," he finished in anguish.

"Shh." Blair's lips touched the top of his head, slid down to his ear. "It's all right," he murmured in Jim's ear. "I'm here, let me help you." The hands stroked down again, this time not stopping, gathering the soft waistband of his shorts, slipping them over firm buttocks, stroking the sensitive flesh as he did. Jim arched, allowing Blair to reach into his shorts and cup his straining erection as he peeled the loose fabric away.

"Blair." Jim's teeth were chattering. "Help me, I can't control this."

"I'm here to help you," Blair said softly, using the calm tone of his voice to reach that place in Jim. "Focus on the sound of my voice."

"I need..."

"I know what you need." Blair's lips covered his again and Jim sighed his relief into his friends mouth. Of course, Sandburg always knew what he needed, was always there to help. Now his hands were on Jim's cock, stroking gently, seeming to know by instinct how tender Jim's skin was to even that careful touch.

Jim let his hands roam over the firm young body beneath him, automatically noting the differences between caressing a male body this way and the feel of a female. This place so firm and sleek, flat instead of rounded, here a roughness where a woman was artificially smooth. Despite the obvious differences between this and anything he had known before the pleasure was intense, the intimacy of touch and taste that he had long denied himself was... delightful. The comparisons should have forced him to focus, should have helped him to keep his senses under control, but instead something about the comparison was only making it worse, dragging him again under the fierce spell of pleasure. He moaned aloud.

"It's all about control, Jim," Blair was saying breathlessly as Jim engulfed a nipple in his searching mouth. "Control each feeling as you do in our experiments, testing your limits. Don't let any one sense overwhelm you to the point that you zone out on it."

Obedient as always to that calm authoritative voice Jim struggled to concentrate on each sensation as it hit him, trying desperately for the strength to pull away, climb from the bed and end this before... before... Taste; salty and sweet by turns. Scent; clean, male, slightly sweaty, aroused. Feel; smooth, firm, unbelievably good.

"Oh god, Blair." Jim moaned. "Stop me." The urge to turn the sweet young body in his arms, to thrust into that firmness, to drive himself until his pleasure was spent, was driving Jim to the brink of madness. He tried one last time to warn his friend, already knowing it was too late, he was 'zoning' again, and this time not even Sandburg's voice would bring him out of it.

Blair was moaning something now, his body moving beneath Jim's driving one, his own hard cock weeping against Jim's belly, but the words were lost to Ellison, as lost as his own sense of time and place as he took what his starved senses demanded.

-000-

Ellison stretched contentedly as he awoke. He felt great! He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this relaxed languor, this wonderful lassitude in his limbs. "Mmm," he sighed. Suddenly his eyes flew open as the sound of his own contented sigh woke him fully, memory crashing down on him even as his senses flared to life. Turning his head on the pillow Jim's eyes took in what his sense of smell and hearing were already telling him.

Sandburg lay next to him in the wide bed, belly down, head turned away, back rising and falling with his breathing. In horrified fascination Jim's eyes took in the wide smooth surface of skin, marred now with darkening bruises, sloping down to the small of his back where the tangled sheet rested, covering him from there down. The sheet was marred too, with a bright new red stain.

"Oh no," Ellison breathed, fighting his first instinct which was to spring up from the bed and run screaming from the room. It was only that blood stain that stopped him, terror striking him to the heart at what he had done, the thud of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears.

"Blair?" Reaching out a tentative hand Jim briefly touched the sleeping man's shoulder. Sandburg snuffled into the pillow and turned so he was facing Jim, his eyes still shut tight. Jim studied Blair's sleep flushed face in distress, marveling at how young he looked asleep. "Sandburg." He poked the other man this time, under the ribs.

"Wha..." Under Jim's stare Blair woke up, his eyelids fluttering, his mouth opening in a huge yawn. "I'm up already," he groused, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Dropping his hands and blinking sleepily he took in the sight of Jim under the covers next to him, still staring goggle eyed.

"Jim, are you okay?" he asked huskily. "You look terrible."

"I look terrible?" Jim said incredulously. "You... you're... bleeding," he blurted out.

Blair frowned a little and started to sit up, then he grimaced and sank back down.

"Oh yeah," he said softly. His eyes met Jim's again and then he dropped his glance, skimming it over what was revealed of the man's body. Jim resisted the urge to tug the blanket up to his chin under the almost clinical regard. Blair again began to sit up, frowning and mouthing a silent ouch. Jim automatically reached out to help but withdrew his hand before it touched Blair's body.

Noticing the gesture Blair smiled reassuringly. "It's okay," he said quietly, blowing a loose curl out of his eye.

"It's not okay," Jim said shakily. "It'll never be okay again." He desperately wished he had given into the urge to get out of bed before he awoke Sandburg. Now it was too late, there was no way he could stand up and walk out of here under Blair's gaze. "I... hurt you," Jim finished in a whisper.

Every trace of amusement was swept from Blair's face at the distress in Jim's voice. "Jim..." he began.

"I hurt you, I could have killed you." The words seemed forced out of Ellison and he had to look away from Blair's keen regard.

"But you didn't, I'm okay. And I understand,"

"You understand?" Jim broke in incredulously. "My god, I wish I did. I've never lost control like that in my life. I don't even remember most of it. It was like..." Ellison groped for words.

"You zoned out," Blair said quietly. "Who would understand that better than me?" Jim's eyes shot to the younger man's. "And it's a lot more my fault than it is yours. I knew you hadn't been with anyone since your Sentinel abilities emerged, I knew it was a risk last night when I started it. I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly myself," Blair finished ruefully.

"When you started it?" Dimly Jim cast his mind back, back to the reason he was here in Blair's bed, back to the moment he had woken up half covered by Blair's body, Blair's mouth on him, suckling on him... "You started it," Jim said accusingly. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I told you, I wasn't thinking," Blair said defensively. "I was lonely last night. Needy. And you were there for me. When I woke up and you were next to me, so warm and alive when all my dreams had been of cold death... I'm sorry, I took advantage of you," Blair said miserably.

Swept back to those heady moments of pleasure, waking with soft lips tugging at him, a warm body pressed against him Jim found it all to easy to accept Blair's words. "I didn't know you were gay," he said, a little uneasily.

"Oh, you know." Blair made a flip flop motion with his hand. "I've swung both ways. I guess it was pretty new to you, huh?"

Jim nodded. "My god, Blair. You said it yourself, I was... hungry. By the time I realised what was happening I was lost. My control..." Jim could feel color sweeping up under his skin. "Speaking of my control, or lack of it, we should get you to a doctor. God knows what I did to you, you know, inside."

"I'm fine, Jim," Blair said gently, laying a hand briefly on the back of Jim's where it was clenched on the edge of the sheet. "I got up last night after you passed out and checked myself over."

The blush was spreading on Jim's skin, he was helpless to prevent it. "You can't know that," he said, almost desperately. "There's blood..."

"I'm fine," Blair said. "I guess you tore me a bit, but I'm pretty sure it's all on the surface. But," he overrode any protest Ellison was about to make. "If I suspect it's worse I'll go to a doctor. Okay?"

Jim nodded. "You were a virgin weren't you?" he said, pretty sure of the answer. "I don't mean with men I mean... anal sex."

"Jim..." Blair began reluctantly.

"Weren't you?" Ellison was relentless.

"No wonder you're such a good cop," Sandburg grumbled. "Yes I was, but please don't fixate on that." He gathered the sheet around him, pulling it off the bed so that Jim was still left with the cover of the blanket. "It had to happen sometime." He climbed stiffly out of bed and headed for the bathroom. "And to tell you the truth, since it did happen, I'm glad it was with you."

Jim was left gaping at the empty doorway. "What?" he said, dumbfounded. Scrambling out of the ravaged bed he located his shorts and stepped into them, pulling them on as he followed Sandburg down the hall. "What did you say?" he demanded.

The bathroom door was wide open, the crumpled stained sheet was lying on the floor. Sandburg was in the shower cubicle, through the frosted glass Jim could see him leaning forward under the spray, both hands braced on the wall in front of him.

"You heard me," Blair called out from under the spray.

"But I... I raped you," Jim said emphatically.

"Bullshit," Blair said. "Hand me a towel." The spray stopped and Jim automatically tugged one of his thick fluffy towels off the warming rack. Blair's damp hand reached out through the door and grabbed it. "You did not rape me," he said, opening the door and stepping out of the shower cubicle, the towel knotted firmly around his hips. He grabbed another towel and started rubbing at his long dripping curls.

"The hell I didn't." Jim was curiously outraged at Blair's defense of him. Okay, so the kid had been out of line, starting something between them when he didn't have the first idea if Jim's Sentinel senses could handle it, but still. How could he doubt what Jim had done to him, the crime he had committed against him when the proof stood out lividly on his body? Ellison reached out a touched a gentle finger to a particularly vivid bruise, about the size and shape of his own fingerprints on Blair's shoulder. Sandburg stopped towel drying his hair and stared at their twin reflections in the mirror as Jim ran his finger lightly down the blemish. "I hurt you," he said softly.

"Jim." Blair pushed his damp curls back off his brow and shook his head. "When I felt it slipping away from you last night, when I knew that you'd lost it, I didn't try to get away, I didn't fight you. I just relaxed and let it happen."

"I'm twice your size, kid," Ellison said curtly. "You didn't fight because you knew you didn't stand a chance. That doesn't make it any less of a rape."

"You're determined to beat yourself up over this, aren't you?" Blair said in exasperation. "Jim, listen to me. I invited your lovemaking, my god, truth be told I'm the one guilty of rape here! Did you have any choice at all once you woke up? Your senses were swamped, don't you think I know you well enough to guess that would happen? I didn't give you a choice, that makes me a lot more guilty that you'll ever be."

"But you're the one who's bleeding. You're the one I... tore. My god." Jim turned away and strode out of the room, across the apartment, up the stairs and into his own bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and locked it with a savage twist.

"Jim." Sandburg was right outside the door. "Please just listen to me."

Jim didn't answer, he pressed his hands to his ears to block out the sound of that calm voice.

"Come on, Jim, I know you can hear me," Blair continued in an even tone. Despite himself Jim found himself listening to the words. "You are such a stubborn so and so. Didn't you hear me? I wanted it to happen between us. I've always figured one day we'd end up in bed. Didn't you?"

"No!" Jim yelled, unable to stay silent. He unlocked the door and swung it wide, facing Sandburg squarely. "No I did not," he said fiercely.

"Well I did. And like I said, I'm glad it was you. Even though it was a little rougher than I would have liked, I wanted it to be with someone I cared about."

"I don't understand you." Jim was shaking with misery.

Seeing his distress Blair took him by the arm and led him to his rumpled bed. Jim followed obediently, too stressed to object. "Sit," Blair ordered, and Jim sat. "Lookit, Jim, we haven't talked about this before, and this isn't the time or place I would have chosen but, and this is my fault, now it's too late to delay it. I know you've consciously been avoiding sex since your Sentinel abilities emerged."

"I have not," Jim denied automatically.

"Please, Jim. This is me you're talking to. You are a normal healthy man and in all these months, nothing."

"I've dated," Jim said sulkily, avoiding the other man's knowing eyes.

"No you have not," Blair corrected, sounding very much the teacher. "You've flirted, but that's not the same thing. What were you afraid of? Of losing control?"

"Oh what do you think?" Jim cried out angrily. "Of course I was afraid, and obviously I was right to be. I could feel my sensitivity even when I was alone and I got aroused. How could I begin to trust myself with some poor unsuspecting woman? This is my worst nightmare come true, losing it, hurting somebody... My god." Anger spent, Jim covered his face with trembling hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Ahh, Jim." Blair wrapped an arm around his friends back. "Maybe it's just as well I did take the plunge last night. At least it got that first dreaded time out of the way. Now we can go on from there."

"Are you nuts?" Jim demanded, tiredly. He wiped at his damp eyes with the heels of his hands. "How can I go on from there? How could I risk putting anybody else through what I put you through last night?"

"And the first controlled experiments we tried with your senses? How many of them did you get right first time, hmm? Not many if I remember correctly."

Jim met Blair's eyes in weary exasperation. "Not being able to tell the difference between salt and sugar is not quite the same as 'zoning' out in the middle of sex," he said sarcastically. "Failing to figure out the difference between coffee and tea is a little trivial compared to that, don't you think?"

"The principle's the same," Blair insisted. "Practice. Focus. And I'll be there to guide you, as always."

"My god," Jim said slowly. "You mean practice on you don't you? With you?"

"Well I hardly think it'd be appropriate for me to be sitting in the corner of the room with my clipboard while you practice on anybody else now, would it?"

Jim pulled away from Blair and climbed off the bed. "You are nuts," he enunciated.

Blair looked at the digital clock by Jim's bed and shook his head. "I don't have time to argue this with you now." He said. "But I'll leave you to think on a few things, Jim. There's no-one else in the world with my knowledge who you can trust to help you. There's no way you can get through this without me. And unless you are planning on staying celibate for the rest of your life, my friend, you are going to have to get through this. Now, I'm late for a lecture, I'll see you tonight." He turned and walked from the room.

-000-

Jim was used to being alone. Long before his eighteen months in the jungle he had been well known as a loner. Part of the problem in his marriage - a big part - had been his habit of keeping things to himself, working out his problems and even celebrating his joys all alone and with a minimum of fuss. So, that day, with Sandburg off about his own business, Jim fell into his familiar habit of introspection.

A dull day catching up with paperwork was about all he had on the agenda and with his mind on auto-pilot Jim set about trying to untangle the mess he found his life in today.

Sex with another man. Jim frowned at his computer screen. How the hell did he even start dealing with that? He had no frame of reference, nowhere to begin. In all his years, school, college, army, the force never, not once had he felt even the suspicion that another man had been coming onto him. Jim knew, with hindsight, that he hadn't even given a thought to it at the time.

Maybe he had been sending off strong 'straight' signals. Maybe he just looked like he would beat the living shit out of any guy who tried to put the make on him. Actually, even in his young, wild days, this had never been true. As a teenager and a young man the world had been Jim Ellison's on a platter. Intelligent, healthy and strong, everything had come easy to him, sports, academics, everything. Instead of making him cocky or arrogant it had simply made him confident. So confident in himself and his abilities he had felt no need to prove himself to anyone and so never fell into the trap of peer pressure.

If Jim wanted to party all night and drink 'til he puked, then he did so. If he didn't want to he just got up and walked away. People very rarely made the mistake of calling Jim a wimp or a chicken twice. And if his circle of cronies started making drunken remarks about 'queers' or 'damn frigid dykes, then he just turned his back on them and found some new friends. So he'd never really had to confront his own feelings about homosexuality before. It was a startling admission for a man of his age.

Jim scowled and punched a few buttons, absently scanning the screen in front of him. This was all Blair's fault. Jim thought irritably. Him and his outrageous proposition this morning. Making me think about all this stuff. Frowning ferociously, Jim finished his work in record time.

-000-

Blair was ladling steaming hot Chinese food onto plates when Jim let himself into the apartment that evening.

"I meant to cook," Blair said, looking harried, "I wanted candlelight and wine and soft music, but I've been running late all day." He stopped fussing with the cartons and turned a rueful face Jim's way. "I guess my mind was a million miles away."

Sandburg's easy attitude caught Jim a bit off guard, although he told himself he should have expected it. Blair's attitude to most things seemed to be an easy one.

"I don't like wine," Jim reminded him testily, "and I've told you before the way to my heart is not through my stomach."

"Then it's just as well I didn't go to any trouble, isn't it?" Blair retorted, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "And wash up before you eat," he ordered as Jim also pulled out a chair.

"Yes, dear." Jim mocked, sketchily rinsing his hands under the kitchen sink and drying them on a tea towel. There was silence for a while as the two men tucked into their meals, Blair broke it first.

"How was your day?"

Jim shrugged, already regretting his sarcasm but unable to find the words to apologise for it. "I guess my mind was a million miles away too," he admitted, eyes on his plate.

"Did you think about what I proposed this morning?" Sandburg asked tentatively.

"Not now, Chief, okay? After dinner."

"Okay."

After dinner Jim escaped to the bathroom and had a nice long shower, turning slowly under the hot water, trying to delay his discussion with Sandburg for as long as possible. He still had no idea what he was going to say to the man. After his shower he headed upstairs and read for a while, but his concentration was shot. Finally he could delay no longer and he made his way down to the lounge room to find Blair ensconced on the couch with a book, looking as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Jim felt irritation flare in him, until Sandburg looked up at him and smiled gently.

"Rough day, huh, Jim?" he asked kindly and Ellison felt the swell of irritation in him deflate like a pricked balloon. He collapsed on the chair opposite the couch and rubbed at his face tiredly.

"Chief, you have no idea."

"I think I do." Blair put his book aside. "It's been the same for me too you know. And me, heck, I always figured we were heading in this general direction. You didn't have a clue did you?" Blair finished with a soft laugh.

"Not one." Jim returned the smile a little ruefully. "But don't let that surprise you too much. I've never been good at all that introspection stuff. Never felt the need for it. Get the job done, minimum fuss, you know. That's how I've lived my life."

"Not let any of that thinking stuff get in your way, huh?" Blair said feelingly, making an icky face at the word 'thinking'.

"Ha ha," Jim said sarcastically. "Not all of us go through life so... 'in touch with the universe.'"

"Okay, Jim. Enough sniping." Blair leaned forward in his chair. "I'm gonna ask you to do something that requires a lot more effort than using any of your Sentinel abilities. No lives will be saved, no criminals arrested. Just... tell me what you are thinking. Feeling. Okay?"

Jim made a sour face. "Thinking?" 

"And feeling. About us, about last night. About what I said this morning. Everything."

"This morning." Jim rubbed his suddenly damp palms on his thighs. He was wearing a soft pair of track-suit pants and a white cotton t-shirt. "It's probably weird, but I've spent more time today thinking about what you said this morning than I have about anything else that happened."

"Not so weird." Blair shrugged. "The rest is over and done, for better or worse. But my proposal this morning..."

"I can't do it, Chief." Jim interrupted him quietly. "I mean, even when I was a kid, you know, a teenager, one walking hormone, even then sex had to be something pretty special to me. With someone I really cared for. And as an adult, well, that's how I live my life. You better believe I gotta have some pretty deep feelings for someone before I get naked with them. So what you said this morning, I just can't do that, Blair. I can't take lovemaking and turn it into some kind of lab experiment. No matter how much part of me wants to climb back into to bed with you I won't do it for those reasons."

"Of course not," Blair said quietly. "And I'm ashamed of myself that I ever termed it like that." Sandburg ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "I guess I make you feel a bit like a lab rat at times, don't I, Jim."

Jim shrugged, a little embarrassed to have said so much.

"Does part of you want to climb back into bed with me?" Blair continued softly and Jim shrugged again, all words failing him now. "Jim, that stuff I said, about me thinking our whole relationship was leading to us becoming lovers, don't you want to know about that?"

"I guess," Jim said uneasily. "If you want to tell me."

"Me trying so hard to get you to let me stay here? Didn't you think that was a hint as to the way I felt?"

"You needed a place to stay. It made sense for you to stay here while we were working through this Sentinel stuff," Jim defended.

"Okay. How about me giving up the chance of a lifetime to study in Borneo. D'you think I'd do that for just anyone?"

"I told you to go," Jim reminded him hotly.

"Yeah, then you sulked about it for days."

"I don't sulk," Jim said sulkily. "Do you regret it?"

"Of course not," Blair dismissed. "Jim, I've been in love with you... forever. You've never seen that?"

"I knew you liked me."

"Oh, Jim." Ellison looked up to see Blair smiling gently at him. "Man, you're right. You can be so blind about this stuff at times."

Jim rubbed a big hand across the back of his neck. "I know." He admitted.

Blair stood up and closed the distance between them, standing next to Jim's chair and looking down on his friends exposed nape, the perfect vee of his shorn hair, his large strong hand rubbing at the tender skin there. "Come to bed with me, Jim." Blair invited softly. "Not for an experiment, or for kicks, not even just because it all felt so damned good. But because I love you and I'm pretty sure you feel a lot for me too, okay?"

"I'm scared I'll hurt you again." Jim studied his own big hands somberly.

"I'm not." At the confidence in Blair's voice Jim looked up and into his shining blue eyes, so calm, so certain, fixed squarely on him. And one of Blair's hands was stretched out to him, palm up. Jim lifted his hand and place it into Blair's.

-000-

The room was dim, the light by Blair's bedside was on, pooling soft radiance over the turned down bed.

"Where you so sure I would follow you in here tonight?" Jim asked a little breathlessly as Blair led him to the side of the bed.

"Sure? Oh no. But I was hoping." Sandburg's fingers found the bottom of Jim's washed out old t-shirt and stroked it. "This feels soft," he observed softly. "Like it would be comfy to sleep in. Is it?"

"I guess," Jim managed.

"Maybe I'll sleep in it sometime and see." Blair said throatily, lifting the hem and tugging it up, over the expanse of Jim's chest. Slowly he lifted it and Jim stood motionless, feeling his heartbeat increase, hearing his own pulse thudding at neck and wrist. The hem reached Jim's nipples and Blair smiled coyly as the puckered pink nubs were exposed. "This is were it all started I think." Leaning forward he engulfed a nipple in the wet heat of his mouth and Jim felt arousal arc through him like a bolt of pure electricity. He caught at Sandburg's wrists and tugged them away from him. Blair's mouth released his reddened nipple with a wet pop and he gazed up at Jim through the dim light.

"Don't let me hurt you," Jim ordered hoarsely.

Blair smiled reassuringly. "I'm sorry, Jim. I'm going too fast." He turned and took a step away from Jim, noting the man's clenched hands and the way his chest was rising and falling with deep breaths. "You are not going to lose it this time," he promised. "Now get undressed, I'll be back in a minute."

Jim willed himself to relax as Blair padded out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. He pulled his t-shirt off and balled it in his fist before tossing it into a corner of the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed Jim rubbed his palms over his upraised nipples, shivering at their unfamiliar sensitivity. Tugging off his sweat-pants Jim crawled under the covers, feeling his heart rate slow a little. What he had said to Blair was the truth, he was unused to examining his own motives too clearly. Up until now instinct had been enough and had so far never led him wrong. Was it instinct he was following now? Or was it something deeper, something he had no more control over than his Sentinel abilities?

All thought ceased and his heart-rate picked up again when Blair appeared in the bedroom doorway, a towel tucked around his hips his only cover. He walked slowly over to the bed and clicked the lamp switch off, before dropping the towel and climbing into the bed. Jim's Sentinel sight barely had time to flare on when he was covered.

"Figure that's one less sense to deal with," Blair explained in a husky voice. But Jim barely heard. All his other senses were clamoring for release. "Focus on the sound of my voice, Jim," Blair was saying, just as he did when that were working together, or trying one of those endless experiments he kept coming up with. "I'm gonna talk you through this, which will be a great sacrifice for me as my mouth has a whole bunch of other stuff it wants to be doing."

"I'm okay," Jim managed throatily, concentrating on his Guides voice.

"I know you are, buddy," Blair said reassuringly. "Come on over here," he invited and Jim obediently shuffled closer to Blair's warm form. "Put your arms around me. Hold me close."

Jim's arms wrapped around him, gathering the smaller man's compact body even closer.

"Tell me what you feel," Blair ordered. 

"You," Jim began a little incoherently, fighting the urge to smother the question under his lips. "You're... warm and smooth and rough."

"Good, that's good." Blair groaned a little under his breath as Jim buried his lips in his neck and opened his mouth against the skin there. "Talk to me, Jim. Concentrate on my voice and your words."

"I don't want to talk." Jim's nostrils flared at the clean masculine scent from Sandburg's body. "I want to..."

"You want to lose yourself in the pleasure," Blair finished for him. "Look at me, Jim. Look at me." At the insistence in Blair's voice Jim pulled his head back and opened heavy eyes, staring through the dimness. His eyes easily adjusted to the light and he was staring clearly at Blair's face so close to his. "Do you want to lose yourself?"

A groan rumbled through Jim's chest. "No," he shook his head.

"I know it's hard, buddy." Blair lifted one thigh and rubbed it against Jim's cock, weeping against his belly. "In more ways than one. But we've got time, right?"

"Time," Jim agreed, breathing deeply again, this time absorbing Blair's scent and enjoying it rather than getting intoxicated by it. And the feel of Blair's skin against his, it was warm and smooth and rough, just as his primal senses were telling him. But it was so much more as well. Jim set about with lips and teeth and tongue, exploring all the different tastes and textures, concentrating hard on keeping them focused in his mind and not zoning out on any or all of them. Blair's voice encouraged him in this, sometimes his words were crystal clear, reassuring, praising. Sometimes his words were lost in the sobs of his own pleasure as Jim's lips found yet another sensitive part of his body and catalogued it.

Finally Blair's hands were on the sides of his head, tugging Jim's lips from his cock and bringing the bigger man's mouth up to his. He pressed a desperate kiss to it.

"Okay, Jim. Now, please."

Jim frowned a little, finding it almost as difficult to emerge from selfish absorption as he had from his zone-out. "Please what?" He asked thickly, his lips feeling swollen and sensitive. Blair took one large hand in his and guided it down past his weeping cock and under his tight balls until Jim's fingers were pressing on the small opening of his body. With a sigh of astonishment Jim felt the slick heat against his finger as he slid in easily up to the first knuckle, realising that Blair must have prepared himself for this.

"Aren't you sore?" Jim mumbled, feeling his stomach muscles clench in desire as his fingers stroked gently at the entrance to Blair's body.

"Please, Jim." Blair was almost whimpering. "C'mon, buddy." He gave a desperate half-laugh. "No control is one thing, now you have too much!"

"Don't count on it," Jim muttered, gently freeing his fingers and grasping Blair's narrow hips between his hands. With a twist he had him over on his belly and without wasting another moment Jim was covering the smaller man, his hungry cock blindly seeking the home it craved.

"That's it." Blair's voice was muffled into the pillow. "Do it, Jim. Do it!"

With a groan of agonized pleasure Jim pushed forward, impaling Blair on his huge hardness, feeling the slick tight walls engulf him wholly. And then, finally, when it no longer really mattered any more, Jim lost it.

-000-

This time when his senses returned Blair was leaning anxiously over him, stroking his face. "Oh, buddy. Don't do that to me," Blair groaned. He dropped a kiss on Jim's brow and straightened a little. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so." Jim frowned. "I guess I lost it a little back there, huh? Did I hurt you?"

"No. I didn't even realize you were zoned until after we came and you just collapsed on me."

"I don't think I was zoned." Jim frowned a little. "I mean, I remember it all very clearly. I just... overloaded. It felt so good!"

Blair smiled a little smugly. "It did didn't it?"

Jim met the pleased blue eyes and allowed a little smugness to show through on his own face. He reached up and cupped the back of Blair's head, pulling his lips down to his and kissing him greedily, exploring the wide mouth as thoroughly as he had explored the rest of the younger man's body. Blair's soft, rich brown hair fell around them like a cape and Jim stroked it back with both hands, still cupping Blair's tender nape. "You really got off on all that, didn't you?" Jim asked curiously.

"Yep," Blair agreed. "Didn't you?"

"I guess there's no denying that." Jim could feel the sensitive tenderness of his softened cock, draped over one thigh. He sighed and pulled Blair down until he was nestled next to him on the wide bed. "Was it okay?" Jim groped for words. "I mean, uh, what do I mean?"

"You mean, are we okay. And yes, I think we're just fine." Blair's voice was sleepy but Jim's senses felt too alive, still thrumming as they were with the after shocks of pleasure.

"Chief? You wanna tell me about that nightmare you had last night? The one that started all this?" Jim felt the stroke of Blair's eyelashes against the skin of his chest as the younger man opened his eyes.

"I guess I owe you that much, don't I? Considering where it led." Blair's voice was reluctant.

"Only if you want to," Jim assured him, stroking a hand down Blair's already slightly stubbled face and tilting his chin up.

"It was the case yesterday. The suicide."

Jim blinked, recalling the scene they had been called to, the young man who had hung himself from his shower rail and had been a suspect in a major car theft ring. When they arrived his body had already been cut down by the paramedics, the first to attend the scene after the boy's body had been found by a room mate.

"Even though he was covered up when we got there, just being there with his room mates, and when his mother arrived... You're a cop, Jim. You're used to this stuff."

"No, you never get used to it. You never do. But you do develop a cop's shell and I forgot you didn't have one. I'm sorry, Blair. But you just always seem able to cope. To keep up with me."

"Yeah, well I guess yesterday just struck a little too close to home." Blair snuggled a little closer to the bigger man as if for comfort. "When I was in college my room mate... hung himself."

"Oh, man." Jim lifted his hand and covered Blair's where it lay on his chest. Blair gripped his fingers gratefully.

"I barely knew the guy, I mean, that seemed to be the way he wanted it. But it didn't make it any easier when his mother came around later asking me all these questions. The biggest one being why. I just didn't have anything to tell her."

"Blair... you found him didn't you?"

Blair turned his face into the smooth skin of Jim's chest and nodded. "That's what I dreamt last night," he gasped. "Stepping in there and finding him. His face, his hands." His voice broke and Jim felt the dampness of tears on his shoulder.

"You poor kid," Jim soothed, stroking the tangled curls gently.

"I'm okay," Blair said eventually, wiping his damp face on the edge of his sheet. "Jim, are we gonna keep doing this? Being lovers?"

"Do you want that, Chief?" Jim watched the younger man's face intently, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

"You know I do." Blair smiled happily. "For as long as you want."

"Then I guess that's what we'll do."

-000-

Being Blair's lover was surprisingly similar to being his friend and room mate. The only major difference was, of course, the sex. The rest of their lives went on as they had always done, working, studying, refining the Sentinel abilities, refining Blair's ability as a Guide, a role he had taken to like a duck to water. When Jim thought about such things, which was pretty seldom, he wondered if Sandburg's Guide ability was as genetic as his own Sentinel ability. If that was the case, might they not be genetically predisposed to become partners and eventually lovers? And if Sandburg had been a woman, would it all have happened much sooner?

Jim admitted to himself that he was uncomfortable with such speculations, Blair was not a woman so the point was moot. Still, there were definitely times he seemed so close to being feminine that if it wasn't for his hirsute body and perpetual five o'clock shadow Jim knew he'd be in danger of forgetting he was with a member of his own sex. Much as he tried to smother such thoughts Jim couldn't help but consider what made him think this way. Was he deliberately feminizing his partner in his mind, to justify the startling sexual attraction that had sprung up between them? That was a hell of a thing to do to a friend, Jim admitted to himself.

Still... There was that attitude Sandburg walked around with, so bright and bouncy and open, always talking about feelings and stuff. Even before they had gone to bed together that first time there had been that habit of his of gazing up at Jim with big adoring eyes saying things like, 'You were wonderful today, Jim', or 'I knew you could do it.' In Jim's experience guys didn't say things like that to each other.

And then last night… Jim closed his eyes for a second, hearing Blair's words from the night before wash over him. 'I love you, Jim. I love you.' He shook himself hard, looking around the squad room. This was not the time to be thinking such things. He tried to concentrate on the report he was typing but his thoughts kept intruding.

Blair had some really feminine mannerisms too, Jim thought, the way he had of gesturing excitedly with his long tapered hands, fiddling with his many bracelets and earrings. And of course there was that hair. Long and soft and fragrant, he was forever pushing it back, running his fingers through it, tying it out of the way with fancy clips and thongs, no old shoe laces for him. Again Jim drifted away in memories of the night before, draped over Blair's back, cock buried deep in his body, face buried in long wavy hair. Who could blame him if he came close to forgetting it wasn't a woman beneath him accepting his fucking?

Of course, Jim never did entirely forget, physically Blair was just too much a man for that. Still, just thinking that way about his friend seemed to be a put-down to him, a subtle denigration. Jim couldn't help the flood of shame that washed over him and without doing another stroke of work he shut down his computer and left the station. Blair had asked him to talk about his feelings, it was time he tried. 

-000-

Jim heard the quiet singing long before he pulled his keys out to unlock his front door. "Oh, no." He muttered. This kid must have been raised on musicals. If it wasn't selected classics from Paint Your Wagon or Camelot he was serenading the apartment with more modern favorites from Evita or Phantom Of The Opera. Jim paused outside the door, listening to the words Blair was singing in cheerful falsetto. "I could stay home every niiight, Wait around for Mis-ter Riiight."

"Good grief." Jim muttered, opening his apartment door and stepping inside.

"Take cold showers every day and throw my life away on a dream that won't come true."

"All right, Chief." Jim stood with hands on hips, surveying Sandburg propped up on a kitchen stool hunched over his books. "Keep it down willya."

"Oh hi, Jim." Sandburg dropped his pen and brushed a long strand of hair from his face. "Was I singing too loud? Sorry."

"I guess it wouldn't seem loud to anyone else." Jim conceded, dropping his keys on the bench and heading to the refrigerator for a beer. "Just, can't you find something better to sing?" he finished, his earlier irritation rekindled.

Blair blinked at the tone and frowned a little. "It's Grease, man. That's from your generation, isn't it? What's wrong with Grease?"

Jim took a drink and then waved the bottle significantly. "I mean do you hafta, you know... Never mind." He wandered into the lounge area and stretched out on the couch.

Blair frowned over at him for a moment. "Do I have to what?" A smile dawned on his mobile face. "Oh come on, Jim. You mean singing like that? That's it isn't it? Because I was singing a girls song?"

"Drop it, Sandburg." Jim ordered in his best cops voice.

"Oh, Jim." Blair shook his head in amused dismay. "Man, you are so out of touch with your feminine side." He picked up his pen and bent back over his books.

"Oh, please." Jim took another long pull from the narrow bottle, feeling the numb alcohol tingle down to his knees. "Please don't try to blind me with this 'feminine side' bullshit. The eighties are gone Sandburg. Get over it."

"Jim, I was ten when the eighties started." Blair pointed out. "What do the eighties have to do with getting in touch with your feminine side?"

"I don't have a feminine side." Jim informed him firmly. He stood up and posed for Sandburg, turning to one side and then the other, ala mug shot. "See, two sides, both completely masculine."

Unimpressed by the theatrics Blair just shook his head. "Every man has a feminine side, Jim, just as every woman has a male side."

"Oh, crap." Jim interrupted succinctly. He finished the dregs of the bottle and burped hugely.

"Bravo." Blair grimaced. "I guess that's proving the old masculinity, big time."

Jim sprang off the couch and paced over to Blair, placing the damp empty beer bottle squarely in the middle of his page. "No, see, I don't have to prove my masculinity," Jim said sarcastically. He flicked a finger derisively at Blair's long rumpled curls. "I'm not the one with the long hair and the earrings and the pretty bangles." Blair lifted his gaze from the damp ring on the page already beginning to bleed ink over his painstaking notes. He stared directly into Jim's eyes. The big man continued relentlessly. "I'm not the one who rolls over and get fucked any time his man feels like it, am I?"

Blair blinked once, twice, slowly absorbing the ugly words and the tone behind them. "Whoa," he said quietly, "Touched a sore spot, did I?"

The aggression on Jim's face melted and ran away like the condensation on the bottle he still held braced on the paper. "Oh, Blair. I'm... I'm sorry, man." And Jim did sound sorry, his voice was stricken with guilt. "I didn't mean..."

"I think you did." Blair corrected him softly, lifting the bottle away from his page. Jim surveyed the ruined notes and backed a step away, rubbing his damp hands on his thighs.

"I should never have..."

"Jim, it's okay," Blair said calmly. "I can't say I'm crazy at the way you phrased it, but I have no problem being compared to a woman. I like women," he continued, pushing his notepad away and standing up. "Some of my best friends are women. My mother's a woman."

"All right." Jim winced at the perceived sarcasm, "I said I'm sorry."

"No, Jim, really." Blair reached out to touch his friends sleeve but dropped his hand before he could make contact. "I'm not messing with you, man, I'm serious. All that macho bullshit never meant a thing to me, it still doesn't. I've always been comfortable with who and what I am, and that means if I want to grow my hair long, or wear jewelry or put on a dress, then hell, I do it."

"You wear a dress?" Jim was momentarily side tracked.

"Not any more," Blair dismissed. "That's not the point. The point is, in my opinion half the problem homophobes have with gays is the who-fucks-who bullshit. You think it feminizes me, fine, I got no problem with that. But when you equate feminine with weak and despise me for it, I gotta draw the line."

I don't despise you," Jim managed. "Myself maybe, after that little performance. I am sorry, Blair."

"I forgive you."

"I know women aren't weak," Jim muttered. "Some of the strongest, bravest people I've ever known have been women. It's just..." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Doesn't it bother you that I'm always... on top? I mean, you're a guy, a guy just naturally wants to... you know."

"Yeah. And when I'm with a woman, believe me, my natural instincts know just what to do. But that's not how it is with us. I can't picture fucking you, even if you were inclined to let me."

"Uh, well," Jim opened his mouth to speak but Sandburg forestalled him.

"Jim, it's okay. That's not how it is between us." Blair stood up and wrapped his arms around the big man's waist, pressing their lower bodies together and leaning back to look into Jim's eyes. "I like this, looking up to you. I love it when you crush me into the mattress, when your mouth ravishes mine. And when you grab my hips and turn me over..." Blair shuddered in genuine pleasure at the memory and then had to laugh as he felt Jim's response stirring between their bodies. "Okay?" He smiled up at Jim and Jim couldn't help smiling back. Who could resist those wide blue eyes, that big beautiful grin, those sensual lips parted in pleasure? He lowered his head and touched his lips to Blair's in a light kiss that quickly deepened.

"Chief?" Jim muttered, separating their throbbing lips for a moment.

"Umm?"

"I never despised you. I... really care about you, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, big guy. I know."

"Blair?"

"What?"

"You wore a dress?"

"I'll tell you later," Blair promised, tugging the shorn head back down again to finish what he had started.

-000-

"Okay, talk." Jim ordered later over a bowl of bowl of Rice Crispies. Blair shook his head fondly. Some men smoked after sex, Jim went straight for the cereal.

"What do you want me to say?" Blair opened the refrigerator and studied the contents, trying to decide on what to do about dinner.

"Come on, Chief," Jim said in exasperation. "A dress?"

"Man, are you still hung up on that? Jeez, Jim, I was a teenager."

"Yeah, and?"

"And it was the style. You'd go to a party and guys would wear kilts and dresses and stuff. I had this cute little black number I picked up in op shop, sometimes I wore a long string of fake pearls. I'd go to a rage or a happening, dance, get stoned, whatever. It was no big deal. I got a photo in all that junk if you want to see it."

"Get it," Jim ordered. He turned and watched through the doorway as Blair tugged a box out and rummaged through it. "Didn't your mother mind?" Jim asked, fascinated in spite of himself.

"Who do you think loaned me the pearls?" Blair quipped. He snagged a thick album out and flipped through it.

"To think I wasted my teenage years drinking beer and playing football." Jim shook his head as Blair carried the open book to the counter.

"Here we are." Jim pushed the cereal bowl out of the way and Blair lay the book on the counter, pointing to a picture on the top left hand side. Two guys stood pressed together, arms cheerfully wrapped around one another. Jim didn't know what he had been expecting, some drag queen looking thing with make-up and falsies perhaps. But the only make-up the Blair in the picture had on was a smear of kohl around his eyes, and the black satin dress hung straight down over his skinny chest. The dress's thin spaghetti straps showed off Blair's already youthfully hairy chest and tufts of hair under his arms. His long hair was loose and gleaming wetly in the flashes light. The other guy was dressed in a short kilt and mesh vest. They were both smiling hugely and even through the picture Jim thought he could detect the thick scent of marijuana.

"I was skinnier then." Blair informed him with a sigh, putting the book aside. Jim made a mental note to check out the rest of the contents later. "Without so much of this annoying fuzz." Blair rubbed ruefully at his stubble.

"I've been meaning to mention that." Jim pointed with a dripping spoon at Blair, uncaring that the milk from his spoon was dropping little wet puddles on the counter. "I'm getting stubble burn in places a man just doesn't want to admit to. Start shaving more regularly."

"I do," Blair protested, gloomily rubbing at his face. "But I'm like Homer Simpson, as soon as I shave it just pops right back out."

"No excuses, Chief."

Despite Blair's easy forgiveness, over the next few days Jim found himself brooding about his savage treatment of the younger man. The last thing he ever consciously wanted to do was hurt Blair, and yet during that ridiculous argument he had been overcome by the desire to grab Sandburg and shake him like a rag doll. See, he wanted to say, see what a mess you are making of my life?

"Hey, Jim, wake up."

Jim started back to the present, realising he had been lost in a daydream, slumped over his desk.

"Where the heck where you, man?" Simon asked curiously.

"A million miles away," Jim said, not altogether truthfully. His mind had been wandering a lot closer to home than that. He glanced at his watch. "Man, is it that time already?"

"Meeting's about to start in the briefing room." Simon gave him another odd look and continued on his way. Jim cursed himself under his breath. He had been doing this way too often lately, focusing on his personal life when he should have been concentrating on work. Lecturing himself sternly Jim followed Simon to the briefing room.

The meeting was an update from the various branches of the Cascade Police dept on the latest suspected activities of one of it's more notorious residents, Rico Spinelli. For over three years the P.D and the Feds had been trying to get something on the alleged crime boss to no avail. Finally they had decided to join forces and combine information in hopes of finding some kind of hook they could use on this guy.

The meeting ran on a little long and Jim had to force himself not to yawn by the end of it. His recent lack of sleep lately was catching up with him. That and his brooding over his relationship with Sandburg. Even thinking the word 'relationship' made Jim wince. Why was it when he was with Blair, touching him, holding him in his arms, everything felt perfectly fine? And yet the minute he was on his own Jim's mind was filled with doubts and confusion. He hated it. He was not a man used to doubting himself in any way.

The meeting finally broke up and Jim was gathering together his rather haphazard notes when he became aware of a woman standing next to him. Looking up he recalled her name, Lindy Chen from Narcotics. They had flirted briefly a year or so earlier at someone's retirement party, but it had only been a few months since his divorce and Jim hadn't had the heart to pursue it further. Now here she was, bright and pretty in her cheerful blue suit, smiling readily at him. Jim was struck by a sudden impulse.

"Hi, Jim," She greeted him confidently. "How's it going?"

"Hi, Lindy. How are you? You look great."

"Thanks." Lindy pushed a strand of smooth black hair behind her ear. "I was sitting over there thinking the same thing about you."

"How do you think this deal is gonna work?" Jim nodded at the other cops and agents wandering out of the room.

Lindy wrinkled her nose. "Time will tell, I guess," she said doubtfully.

Jim took a deep breath and went with his earlier impulse. "Hungry?" He raised an eyebrow. "Fancy grabbing dinner somewhere?"

Lindy smiled in surprise. "That sounds great," she agreed. "I did kind of miss lunch."

"Great." Jim smiled and gestured for her to proceed him from the room, shutting his mind to the feeling running through him. It felt like guilt.

"My car or yours?" Lindy asked when they reached the underground parking lot.

"Whatever." Jim shrugged, feeling unable to make even the simplest decision now that he had got this far. What the hell was he doing? He didn't want to be here climbing into someone else's car heading off for a date of all things. He wanted to be home with Blair, quieting all the worries and fears that rose up in him when they were separated. That was the crux of it, Jim thought, studying the woman opposite him as they sped along. He was afraid.

The restaurant was quiet and elegant, almost empty this early on a Tuesday evening. Two women were dining together and Jim's hyper-sense of hearing picked up a little of their conversation as the maitre'd led them to their table. The blonde was whining something about her boyfriend only being a gardener, not earning enough, not fitting in with her friends. Shallow bitch, Jim thought, dismissing her.

"Shrimp cocktail to start," Lindy said thoughtfully, studying the menu. "And the lamb sounds good. Jim?"

Jim folded his menu and handed it to the waiter. "Sounds good," he agreed.

"So, Jim." Lindy folded her hands under her chin and surveyed him thoughtfully. "How've things been going since I saw you last? Anything interesting going on?"

Jim smothered the urge to laugh aloud. Gee, he thought, it depends what you mean by interesting. Gaining hyper sensitive senses? And a live-in lover? The fact that even now I have a boyfriend waiting patiently at home while I sit here with you? Naah, nothing interesting.

"Oh, you know, same old same old. You?"

"Well, I got engaged and then unengaged." Lindy looked down at her hand, rubbing absently at the bare ring finger.

"I'm sorry," Jim said awkwardly.

"Oh, I'm over it. It's just tough sometimes, being a cop and trying to keep a relationship going."

"Oh, I don't know," Jim said quietly, playing with his gleaming cutlery. "If you find someone strong enough to support you in your life, someone whose own career you can respect, then I think it all falls into place."

"Have you found that person, Jim?" Lindy asked shrewdly.

Jim looked directly into her dark eyes with a frown. Had he found that person?

"I'm sorry," Lindy waved her hand. "It's none of my business. I've got to admit though, I'm a little disappointed."

That was his cue, Jim thought. This is the moment to say, 'Sorry, Lindy, I'm seeing someone', or 'I'm free as a bird, Lindy, what are you doing Saturday night?' But Jim didn't say anything, he maintained his silence as the waiter served them their drinks and departed.

Lindy made a determined effort to change the subject over dinner, talking about the briefing and speculating on the eventual outcome of the joint investigation. Over dessert Lindy's beeper went off and she studied the read-out with a frown. "Excuse me, Jim. I better make this call." Excusing herself she walked out into the foyer and punched a number into her cell phone.

With a sigh Jim studied his melting chocolate mousse. The night had not been a success and he knew it was largely his fault. This whole thing had been a mistake and it just showed how desperate he was feeling if he resorted to such cheap tactics to divert himself from what was bothering him. As if picking up the first available woman, a terrible disservice to the charming Lindy, was going to stop him thinking about Blair for a minute. The man was in his blood stream, burrowing his way into his heart. And really, hadn't it been that way from the beginning? When had Jim ever been able to deny him anything? So what was he so afraid of now, and afraid was the right word. And even more important, would he be feeling this fear if it wasn't another man he was falling in love with?

Absently Jim's attention focused on the two women who had been seated when he and Lindy arrived. They were drinking coffee now, still talking earnestly and absently Jim tuned into their conversation.

"What else can I do? He is everything I didn't plan on in my life. My god, if someone had asked me to describe my perfect mate he wouldn't even be close!" It was the blonde speaking and Jim could hear the genuine despair in her voice. It did not tally with his initial impression of her and he cast a glance her way, seeing her twisting a fine cloth napkin between her fingers. "It's just, he really loves me, you know? And I... I can't help loving him."

"Then for goodness sake grow up, Cheryl," the brunette said. "Or wake up. I mean, I don't even know you any more, what happened to you? The Cheryl I knew in college wouldn't have been whining about family and friends and career. She would have spat in the eye of anyone who even tried to tell her she couldn't have whatever she wanted. God, she would have moved heaven and earth to get it. What the hell happened to you?"

The conversation went on but Jim lost the focus of it, the dark haired woman's words tumbling in his head like socks in a tumble dryer. What the hell had happened to him? When had he ever let anything stand in his way? In school he had been determined to join the army despite all opposition, and he had done it and carved out a fine career for himself. And when he knew it was time to leave he had walked away, despite all the people who called him a fool for leaving. Even joining the police force at his age, some people had actually laughed at him, called him unrealistic. But with his background in the military he had practically walked into a detective's post almost as soon as his rookie days were behind him. He had run over all the objections like a tank. So now he had to face fears of a different kind, fears that seemed all the more frightening after his debacle of a marriage to Caroline.

Suddenly Jim knew he had to get back to Blair, he had to be with the younger man, talk this out with him. He jumped when a gentle hand descended on his shoulder.

"Oh, Lindy, hi." Jim stood up and fumbled with his wallet. "I have to go," he said apologetically.

"Jim, is everything okay?" Lindy asked as Jim peeled off a couple of large bills and dropped them on the table.

"I'm fine, something just came up, is all. Can I drop you off anywhere?"

"We came in my car remember?" Lindy said quizzically. "That was my boss anyway, I've got to meet him so I'll drop you off at your car, okay?"

"Yeah, great, fine," Jim said, rocking eagerly on his heels as Lindy gathered up her purse and coat.

"You sure you're okay, Jim?" Lindy said over the cars roar as she drove him back to the station.

"I'm fine," Jim called back. "And I'm sorry about the evening, I know I wasn't the best of company."

"I understand. You are seeing someone aren't you?"

"Yes," Jim said softly. "I am."

-000-

Jim let himself into the apartment quietly. Blair was sprawled out on the couch, sock clad feet over the arm, directly against Jim's house rules. He was holding out the remote control, desultorily flicking through the channels.

"Blair." Jim said softly from the darkened kitchen area.

"Jim, you're home." Blair straightened and pointed the remote at the screen, clicking it off. "Sorry about the feet on the couch, man. I keep forgetting."

"That's okay," Jim said quietly, stepping into the light cast by the paper lamps.

"Meeting run late?" Blair flicked a glance to the clock in the kitchen, its luminous hands showed it to be after ten. "Is that the time?"

"I wasn't at a meeting," Jim said calmly as Blair stood and stretched. "I had a date." Blair froze in mid-yawn and then dropped his arms back to his side.

"A date?" he repeated numbly. Jim watched carefully as he sank back down onto the lounge. "A date, wow."

"Blair..."

"I don't know why I'm so surprised," Blair interrupted almost absently. "I mean, we never said anything about being exclusive."

Jim tried to interrupt again but Blair overrode him with a raised hand. Tugging off his glasses he began to furiously polish them, head bent over his task. "And you know, a lot of primitive cultures don't even recognize the concept of monogamy..."

"Blair, please." Jim reached over and grasped the younger man's chin, tilting his face up. The big blue eyes were swimming with tears and as Jim exclaimed softly Blair blinked and a tear over flowed and stroked down his cheek. "Oh, please, Chief, don't."

"It's just, I've been so happy," Blair said shakily. "And I thought you were too? Was I being blind? How could I miss that you were dating?"

"I haven't been dating, Blair. Tonight was an impulse, after the meeting I asked a casual acquaintance out for dinner."

"You called it a date," Blair reminded him, studying Jim's face earnestly.

"Because that's what I intended it to be." Jim released Blair's chin, running a gentle finger over his damp cheek. "I was afraid. I have been ever since this began."

"Afraid?' Blair frowned, wiping at his eyes. "You?" He sounded like a little kid who'd just found out Santa Claus didn't exist.

"Yeah, Chief, me."

"Because of this whole gay thing?" Blair asked doubtfully.

"Oh, man, if it were only as simple as that. No, Chief, it goes a lot deeper than that, it goes back to when I first came out of the jungle."

Blair sat up alertly. "It has to do with your Sentinel abilities?"

"I guess. After my time in the jungle, when I came back to 'civilization', you know I suppressed a lot of what happened out there, including any memory of my Sentinel ability. But in doing so, I managed to, I don't know, shut off a lot of myself as well. Do you understand?"

"Not entirely. You mean you'd changed?"

"It was so much more than that. Take my marriage to Caroline for instance. I really did love her, Chief."

"I know you did."

"But, at times, it was like I was totally unable to tell her that, or even feel it myself. It was like part of me had frozen."

"Jim, I'm no shrink, but we talked about this before, remember? Delayed Stress Shock Syndrome. "

"I know the jargon. It was the effects I had to live with. My God, when I look back on how cold I was with her at times, how I would freeze her out, I can't believe she put up with me as long as she did. I can't believe I acted like such a..."

"Dick," Blair finished for him and then shrugged when Jim glanced at him. "Caroline and I have had a few conversations about you," he admitted.

"Oh, that's great." Jim didn't even want to think about that one. "Anyway, since my Sentinel abilities reappeared, it's like I can feel myself coming back to life, thawing out. It's been a bit of a painful process."

"I can imagine," Blair said thoughtfully. "And I guess everything has been coming at you pretty damned quickly."

"Yeah." Jim agreed. I wish I could say I've been handling it in a calm and adult fashion, but as you've witnessed first hand, I haven't."

"Jim, you are not Superman, x-ray vision not withstanding. You have to let some of this out, buddy. You have to talk to me. That's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Jim asked quietly. "Even when I put you through shit like this? I mean nothing is resolved, I'm just as confused as ever."

"Except now you know why you're confused. It's like AA, man, the first step is admitting you got a problem. And the second step is talking about it." Blair touched a gentle hand to Jim's back, rubbing soothingly at the big muscles there. "You gotta know, lover, I'm here for you."

"You always have been," Jim agreed, leaning into the caress.

It was Blair's turn to grasp Jim's strong chin and tilt his head towards his. "Then we will make it," he murmured, resting his forehead on Jim's. "Okay?"

"We'll sure try, Chief."

The End.

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