Moments earlier...

Once Rafe dropped him off after a night of surveillance, Jim stood for a moment outside the loft, immediately tuning out all other sounds to find the one he always searched for -- the one that welcomed him home.

He sorted out and dampened the layers of sounds that assaulted his sensitive hearing. He recognized the soft snoring of one of his neighbors and filtered it out, along with a dog barking in Apartment 102, and a cat's tongue scraping across its fur in Apartment 204. His hearing also picked up a dozen crickets chirping out back, and a mouse scratching near the dumpster in the alley. Jim filtered out each sound until at last he found it.

There.

Strong and steady, the lub-dub, lub-dub of Blair Sandburg's heartbeat filled Jim's ears with melodious sound. He focused on the soothing beat as he entered the building and moved toward the first set of stairs.

Muttering an especially caustic expletive as he took the first step up, he cursed the powers that be that chose that particular time to have the elevator go on the fritz. Great timing, considering now Jim had a bum leg and each step seemed to pull at the healing bullet wound.

As he slowly climbed each step and then turned to tackle the next set of stairs that led to the second floor landing, Jim noticed with each step that Blair's heartbeat was speeding up.

A dream. Maybe Blair was dreaming again. Well, he had a cure for that...

He had to smile despite the pull of the bum leg, not to mention the inconvenience of the cane, as he mounted the next flight of stairs heading to the third floor. Since Jim had begun sleeping with Blair -- something that just seemed to happen naturally as the hubbub over the dissertation began to wane and they started rebuilding their friendship -- Jim realized how often his Guide would wake him in the middle of the night, trapped in some wild dream. Asleep, Blair was much like he was when awake -- body in nearly constant motion, lips gasping out indecipherable mutterings -- in a word, hyperactive. A warmth spread across Jim's chest as he recalled the first time he shared a bed with Blair, and how he discovered, quite by accident, a way to settle his Guide down into a restful slumber. Blair may have discovered ways to bring Jim out of a zone, but Jim was equally gratified to learn of his own hidden talent. The Sentinel looked down at his free hand as it grasped the railing and smiled. His touch could work wonders on calming an unsettled Guide. He had been thinking about doing just that all night, waiting impatiently for the stakeout with Rafe to end so he could get home to Blair.

As Jim reached the second floor landing, his sensitive hearing noticed his Guide's heartbeats were becoming increasingly erratic, pulsing faster and faster into a flurry of panic.

He tried to rush up the last set of stairs to the third floor, again cursing as the added jarring strained the bullet wound in his leg. He almost tripped on the last set of steps, hearing Blair's heart thud steadily like a jackhammer, almost sounding as if it were about to explode from the stress.

Jim limped as fast as he could down the hallway to their apartment. Key in hand, he stealthily unlocked the door and entered the darkened loft.

He focused his hearing outward. Blair was in his bedroom, the French doors closed. Not questioning at the moment why Blair was sleeping downstairs instead of up in Jim's bed, Jim extended his hearing further. Suddenly, Jim sensed a second heartbeat.

Close.

In Blair's bedroom.

Shit!

Drawing his gun with his free hand, Jim tried to walk as silently as he could in spite of the limp and the cane. Closer... closer still, he neared the doors to Blair's bedroom.

"Blair, please," a woman's voice pleaded behind the French doors. "I need you to love me, I need to know..."

Naomi? He was certain. It sounded like her voice. But something was wrong here. Definitely wrong. Blair's heartbeat continued to pulse at a startling rate, as if in full panic attack mode.

Jim extended his senses outward again. Finding no other heartbeats within the loft, he holstered his gun. Hearing a scuffle, and then a body landing hard on the wooden floor, Jim's free hand moved to one of the doorknobs.

"god, god, no, no, god, no, god..."

Hearing Blair's anguished voice in the other room, Jim turned the knob and opened the door. He dialed down his senses before flipping on the light, but that still didn't prepare him. What he saw, what he witnessed behind the door, nearly drove him into an instant zone.

The smell of sex, the spicy scent of arousal, was strong in the air. Jim stood there, leaning on his cane, his other hand still gripping the doorknob. Knowing his mouth had dropped into a stunned, gaping expression, the detective silently watched Blair struggle to pull his boxers up over his softening erection.

Oblivious to Jim's presence, Naomi continued to plead in an endless loop as she reached out, attempting to stop Blair from scrambling away from her grasp. "Please, love me, Blair. I need you to love me. I can't live without your love... without knowing if you truly love me back."

Temper rising hot within him, Jim finally rediscovered his voice as he clenched Naomi's hair with his free hand. Yanking the naked woman away from his Guide, he boomed, "What the hell is going on here?" He savagely jerked Naomi's head back so that her face tilted up to look him directly in the eyes. "What are you doing here? What are you doing to Blair, you god-damned little, little... slut?"

Hot tears rolled down Naomi's cheeks, but Jim held no sympathy for the woman at this moment. His heart turning cold as ice, Jim released his grip and stood upright, towering over the now-sobbing woman. He tore his sight away from Naomi and focused on his Guide. He found Blair huddled at the head of the bed, as far away from Jim and Naomi as he could get. The young man had pulled the comforter up, covering himself almost completely -- as if forming a shield to shut himself off from the intruders in his bedroom. To the Sentinel's sensitive ears, Jim could make out the anguished whispers, "God, no... no...! Why here? Why now? Oh god, no!"

Jim swallowed the bile he felt rising within his throat. "Chief?"

He started to make his way to Blair's side, but insistent hands gripped his ankles. "You keep away from him," Naomi warned, her voice nearly hysterical. Jim felt the woman's arms wrap around his lower legs. "Stay away, Jim. This is none of your business."

"The hell it isn't." Jim felt his jaw clench painfully at the urge to kick Blair's mother to oblivion. That's exactly what he wanted to do -- fling her so far away that she could never hurt Blair again -- so she could never hurt Blair again like she just had with that whole dissertation fiasco. My god... he and Blair were still dealing with the repercussions from that, finally opening up to each other, learning to love each other, trust each another. And now this? He still couldn't get a grip on the thoughts, the emotions that were churning inside him. The only thing he understood was that Blair was hurting, Naomi was the reason, and Jim would be damned if he'd allow her to hurt his lover again. Never again. Never.

"Let me go, Naomi," Jim warned, his free hand clenching into a shaking fist. His other hand fiercely gripped the cane to balance himself as his body lurched with a sudden jolt of pain that originated from his injured leg.

"No... you get out of here. Leave us alone. I have to be with my son. I have to know he still loves me, that he doesn't hate me," the woman sobbed. Naomi's hands snaked their way up along Jim's shins as she sat up and held on tighter. One of the hands grazed over Jim's healing bullet wound and the Sentinel gasped with another jolt of pain.

"Mom...!" a wounded voice called out from under the covers. The heap on top of the bed that was Blair Sandburg stirred slightly, then blue eyes rimmed in red peered out from under the bedspread. "Please, stop. Just stop. Please, just stop..."

"Chief," Jim whispered, his sensitive ears picking up soft gulping sounds as Blair tried to hold back tears and get his breathing back under control. "Talk to me, Chief. You okay, buddy?"

He noticed the younger man's blue eyes flicker down to look at Naomi, who was still huddled around the Sentinel's legs, and then back up to Jim's face. The two men locked gazes for a moment, and then Blair's eyes squeezed shut.

Jim heard his partner take in a deep breath, and then mouth a nearly silent, "Shit." Blair slowly rolled over, pulling the comforter off as he tried to straighten up into a sitting position on the small futon. Jim noticed that his Guide's hands trembled slightly as Blair reached out and touched his fingertips lightly on Naomi's bare shoulder.

"Mom."

"Baby?" Naomi sniffed, but kept her face pressed against Jim's leg.

"Mom. Let Jim go. You know his leg is still healing. You're hurting him. Come on, Mom. Please?"

Ever so slowly, Jim felt the woman's arms loosen slightly. Naomi stared down at the floor as her arms gradually slipped down along Jim's shins and to his ankles. Pulling her arms free, she buried her face in her hands, curling into a fetal ball on the floor by the bed.

Deciding to leave Naomi for the moment, Jim moved closer to the futon and eased himself down next to his partner. Looking down, Jim suddenly realized he had no idea what the hell to say. Finally, he found his voice again and choked, "You all right?"

Blair looked up, a sad, confused expression spreading across his facial features. At that moment, all Jim wanted to do was pull his Guide close and protect him from every hurt and disappointment the young man had experienced during his life.

Finally putting his thoughts into motion, Jim wrapped his arms around Blair's waist and held him close. He still marveled at the emotions that coursed through him as he caressed the warm body pressed against him, listened to the rapid heartbeat, and smelled every scent that was the essence of his Guide. Want and desire threatened to overtake his senses. This was what brought him back to the loft every night. This was home, all packaged into the wiry body and curly hair of one Blair Sandburg. Who would have ever guessed it?

Until recently, their relationship had had its ups and downs. Mostly downs, lately, Jim sighed to himself sadly. But the good times had been great -- the teasing, hanging out together, sharing little touches here and there. Jim had yearned to have those little touches mean something more, but never acted upon them. As much as Jim had often longed for this closeness during the past four years, he had held back, not trusting enough. He claimed he couldn't trust Blair, when in fact it was really Jim who couldn't trust in himself -- who couldn't trust his true feelings for Blair. And he certainly had no reason to believe Blair could ever love him back -- not after all the shit he had loaded onto his Guide. Not after Alex, and the fountain, and everything else. Jim wasn't sure he could ever hope for, ever be worthy of, the kind of relationship he really wanted with Blair.

But now, they were finally taking those first dizzying steps -- finally forming a loving relationship based this time on trust and truthfulness. It amazed Jim -- but it also frightened him. Frightened him because now that he had finally opened himself up to accept Blair fully into his life and heart, he realized down to his very soul what he would lose if it were ever taken away.

"Jim?"

The Sentinel shook his head, suddenly realizing that he had nearly zoned on the heartbeat of the warm body still clutched in his firm embrace.

"Sorry, Chief," Jim offered as he loosened his hold a bit. He pressed his lips against Blair's cheek and whispered, "You okay?"

"Yeah. I guess. I'm not sure," Blair murmured. The younger man wrapped his arms tighter around Jim's waist, snuffled softly, and then whispered, "God. I... I don't know what just happened. I am just so out of my comfort zone here. I mean... man. I was sound asleep and then I wake up to find someone on top of me. At first, I thought you... And then, I saw and... oh god! Mom?" Blair shuddered and Jim pulled him closer, brushing his lips against his lover's closed eyelids, tasting the salty tears that were still trapped amongst the lashes.

"Tell me you love me," a tiny voice sobbed from the floor next to the bed. "Please, I need you to love me. Say I haven't lost you. Please... don't shut me out, baby."

Jim heard a low rumble in the body huddled against his chest. Suddenly, he realized that Blair was laughing.

Blair lifted his head and turned toward Naomi. "Mom? After all this time, you still never cease to surprise me over your concept of love. Even after..." Blair's voice trailed off and he shook his head as if suddenly finding a bitter taste in his mouth. He ran shaky fingertips across his tear-streaked cheek, then continued, "Do you think you have to jump me in the middle of the night to know for sure that I love you? Is that what you think? That is, like, so rich."

Naomi sat up and faced her bemused son. "Don't you dare make fun of me, Blair Jacob Sandburg," she snarled darkly, "After all we've been through -- just the two of us? When we had no one but each other? I love you, baby, and I need to know you still love me, too. That you'll always love me. Forever and ever -- no matter what. Like we promised..."

"Oh, Mom," Blair sighed.

Jim decided that he had had about all he could stomach of this conversation. He was about to say something when his cell phone rang.

Startled, Blair looked into his face and Jim read the sudden fear in his lover's wide eyes.

Jim punched 'talk' and raised the phone to his ear. "Ellison."

"Jim. It's Taggart. Sorry. I know you just got off stakeout, but there's been a kidnapping and I need you here on the double."

"Where, Joel? What happened?"

Jim's eyes never strayed from Blair's face as he talked to Captain Taggart -- the man who was filling in for the wounded Simon Banks after their last run-in with Karl Zeller. He saw the younger man's questioning expression.

"Meet us at 4578 Fletcher Road. The name is Matthew Calhoun."

"Calhoun?" Jim asked, "The owner of Calhoun Oil?"

"One and the same, Jim. His youngest son was just kidnapped. God, the boy is just twelve years old. The perp left a note before sneaking out with the kid. It's the same MO as the others. Looks like another abduction by Preston."

Jim sighed. Not again. Shit. Not again. He and Rafe had been on stakeout just minutes before, tracking down a lead on the elusive Preston. But the perp had struck clear across town from where they had lain in wait, this time targeting the child of one of Cascade's most influential families. Preston had an insatiable appetite for young boys and another one had just slipped away. Damn it all to hell.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes, Joel."

"Okay. I'm sorry I have to ask you, Jim. You should be home resting. Getting some sleep. Letting that leg of yours heal properly."

"It's okay, Joel. With Henri gone to Spokane to take care of his aunt's funeral arrangements, I know you're short-handed until Simon and Megan are back on active duty full time."

Jim could hear Taggart let out a loud sigh on the other end of the connection. He knew how hard this was, filling in for Simon Banks. They'd all been through the wringer these past few weeks.

"Thanks. I appreciate that. More than you can know." There was a pause, and then Taggart continued. "Jim?"

"Yeah, Joel?"

"I hate to ask this, but we really need Sandburg on this one. I may not fully understand everything that's up with you two -- and I know things aren't official yet -- but I know Simon trusts your ability as a team. I need Simon's best team on this one, Jim."

"Okay. I'll ask him, Joel."

"Good. If Blair can't make it, I can send a squad car over to the loft to pick you up."

Jim looked down at Blair, whose face was beginning to take on the familiar look of stubborn determination that put the Sentinel on notice he was not going to be allowed to leave his Guide behind without an argument.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Joel, but thanks. We're leaving right now."

Jim punched 'end' and pocketed the phone. Still looking into Blair's worried eyes, Jim took in a deep breath and said, "Something's come up, Naomi. Go get a hotel room, go wherever you like, but you have to leave immediately. Got that?"

"Don't you order me around, James Ellison. I'm not leaving until I have my answer." Jim turned to see that Naomi was staring at Blair, a questioning look in her eyes. "Blair, honey?"

He heard Blair let out a soft sigh. "I love you, Mom. That will never change, you know that."

Seemingly relieved, Naomi rose to her feet with a deep sigh. Reaching past Jim, she pulled Blair into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry I caught you by surprise, honey. Am I forgiven?"

"Forgiven? Just like that?" Jim asked, incredulous. "You practically rape him and you expect Blair to just forget it, like it never happened? You may call it love, but I have some different words for it. Sexual abuse. Manipulation. Incest. Do I need to paint a picture for you?"

The woman's eyes widened with surprise, and then she turned angrily to face him. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about. You have no idea what Blair means to me... what we mean to each other."

Jim looked back at Blair, whose expressive face suddenly reflected a weary despair. That expressive face, the face that Jim had loved for so long, now looked away in confusion and grief. How could Naomi have twisted the meaning of love so dramatically to hurt Blair in this way?

He felt the anger rising again. Jim wanted to tell her exactly what Blair meant to HIM, and what he would do if he ever caught Naomi touching Blair like that again. He wanted to tell her -- wanted to wipe the smug expression from Naomi Sandburg's face when she realized Jim and Blair were lovers. But they hadn't told anyone about their budding relationship yet -- not even Naomi. It was still too new for them, too fragile after all they had been through. So Jim pushed down his anger. For Blair's sake.

Jim was about to respond to Naomi's outburst when Blair turned to face his mother directly. "Mom. We're not going to resolve this tonight. Jim's right. Find a nice hotel. We'll talk about this tomorrow. Jim and I have to get going."

"Another case?" Naomi huffed. "Is that more important than spending time with your mother?"

Blair ignored his mother, turning to Jim instead. "What did Joel say?"

"Another child disappeared tonight. Taggart thinks Preston made another hit. Same MO." Jim ran his hand affectionately across Blair's shoulder, "If you feel up to it, I'd sure like your help on this one."

Blair looked up at Jim, a weak smile forming over his lips. Nodding his head, the younger man whispered, "I'm with you."

Jim heard Naomi's low growl, then footsteps, as the woman stalked out of Blair's bedroom.

The Sentinel felt a satisfied grin form over his lips. "Okay, partner," he said, his voice warm. He pulled the younger man into a long, passionate kiss. Releasing him finally, Jim favored his lover with a big grin. "Go ahead. Get dressed. Joel's waiting for us."

With Blair's help, he pushed himself up off of the futon. Using the cane that he had left leaning against the mattress, Jim hooked Naomi's discarded dress, and then her sandals. Giving Blair a wicked grin, he turned and hobbled out of the bedroom.

He found Naomi standing by the door, seemingly at a loss to what to do next. "Put this on," Jim ordered, flinging the dress at the silent woman as she turned towards him. He couldn't keep the animosity from spilling into his voice as he added, "You can use the bathroom if you want. We're leaving in five minutes, as soon as Blair is dressed and ready to go. You're leaving at the same time."

As Naomi bent to retrieve her overnight bag, Jim used his free hand to pull it away from her grasp.

"Hey," the woman complained bitterly. "This is illegal search and seizure!"

"I could get you on trespassing charges, Naomi, so consider us even."

After dumping the bag on the kitchen counter, Jim unzipped the top and rifled through the contents inside until he found it -- Sandburg's spare key to the loft.

Holding the key up in front of him, he glared at Naomi. "I don't think I need to explain why you're no longer welcome to drop by unannounced or have a key to our home."

"I was right the first time. You're nothing but a fascist brute, Jim Ellison. Blair gave that to me and..."

"...And, I repeat, you are no longer welcome here, Naomi." Jim zipped the overnight bag and tossed it back to Naomi. "Calling me names is a waste of time."

"Well, we will just have to see what your Captain has to say..."

Jim turned furious eyes on her. "You better think twice about making idle threats, Naomi. I don't think you want to stir things up right now, not after what happened to Blair's dissertation, not to mention his academic career. You may want to hurt me, but it will be Blair who pays for it in the end. I will not allow you to hurt him again. Got that?"

When Naomi didn't say anything more, Jim let out a frustrated snort and added, "Now get dressed or you'll find yourself outside in your birthday suit."

Naomi Sandburg gave him a murderous frown. Standing completely naked in the middle of the living room, Naomi's furious expression only made a wry grimace form over Jim's lips. At another time, he may have been attracted to the shapely body of Naomi Sandburg -- but never again. Tonight, Jim had to dial down the disgust he felt at the mere sight of the woman so as not to become physically sick.

Finding the bottom hem, Naomi pulled the dress up over her head and dragged it down her slim body in one fluid motion. Just as Naomi was pulling on her shoes, Blair shuffled out of his bedroom and toward the door, wearing a rumpled flannel shirt buttoned over a heavy pullover and faded blue jeans. Jim watched the young man step into his Nikes and pull on his black leather jacket. Naomi wisely pulled on her heavy coat and waited at the door, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. The woman stared at her son, who stood just outside of reach and ignored her gaze as he watched Jim expectantly.

In a hurry to put this particular scene out of mind and move on to the next crisis, Jim Ellison silently unbolted the lock. Naomi rushed out as soon as he opened the door, not giving a glance back as she purposely stalked into the hallway and out of sight around the corner. Blair turned to follow his mother, but Jim stuck his hand out, stopping his Guide in the doorway.

"Chief?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Jim. Okay?" The younger man raised his hands up to his head and brushed trembling fingertips through his slumber-tossed curls. "This is like so messing with my head right now, man." Blair looked up, eyes widening, and Jim heard the younger man's heartbeat accelerate alarmingly. "You... you won't tell Simon or the others, will you? Oh man, I can't let anyone else know...!"

Jim favored Blair with a warm grin. As much as he loved to tease Blair, this was definitely not the right time, nor the right place. He hoped his face conveyed the deep affection inside as he murmured, "I have to admit that the thought of hauling your mother's ass into lockup right now and throwing away the key is quite compelling right about now. But unless you're thinking of filing charges against her, I promise we'll keep this just between the three of us. Okay?"

Blair seemed relieved and Jim could hear his Guide let out a held breath. "Okay, uh... no charges is good." The younger man looked up into Jim's face, locking gazes for a long moment. Then Blair looked away, his cheeks blushing slightly. "Thanks, Jim. For everything."

Jim cupped the side of Blair's face with his free hand, and then kissed him gently. Looking into the young man's deep blue eyes, he promised, "I maybe haven't been there in the past for you, Chief, but I'm here now, okay? Any time you want to talk, or..." He let his voice trail off. Then, so as not to allow himself to sink any deeper into sentimentality, he ruffled his fingertips through the younger man's curly hair. "Now let's get going before Captain Taggart starts asking questions, huh?"

Blair was greatly surprised -- not to mention relieved -- to discover his mother had left without waiting for them outside the loft. He had expected her to stay behind, to make one last ditch attempt at turning the screw a little tighter.

Letting out a loud sigh, he averted his eyes away from Jim as they climbed into the Volvo and buckled themselves in. Because of Jim's recent injury, and with the truck in the shop for an engine overhaul, driving duties fell to him. Blair took one more look around the parking lot before putting the car into gear, looking for signs of a vehicle that didn't quite fit in with the normal residents' mode of transportation. His mother was sneaky that way. She always had been. Naomi had followed them before when they had to leave on an assignment and where did it get them -- kidnapped and nearly killed by a professional car jacking ring.

The two men traversed the darkened city streets in near silence, Jim only speaking up to give directions as they made their way to Michael Calhoun's residence. Blair focused his attention on the road while Jim seemed to stare out into nothingness, deep in thought. It was very early in the morning, so the streets were nearly vacant.

Although he forced himself to focus all of his attention on his driving, Blair couldn't stop the occasional flashback of that night's events from running through his mind. He usually enjoyed Naomi's visits. And he could even find himself forgiving her for releasing his dissertation without his knowledge or approval. That nightmare was over, so why the hell did she have to come back this time? He couldn't forget what it felt like waking up to the touch of warm, skillful hands on his body, the expert fingertips knowing just the right places to arouse him, a slight weight balancing above him. At first, he thought it was Jim. He so wanted it to be Jim. But then he tasted her mouth. It was a different taste. And then her legs were wrapped around him. Her distinctive scent. Even without Sentinel senses he could pick out Naomi in a crowd with her familiar perfume. And then, he felt her wet moistness surrounding him as she thrust him inside herself, moving her hips, undulating above him. He opened his eyes and...

Oh god!

He shook his head as if to loosen the cobwebs suddenly crowding within his mind, focusing his mind back on the road. But the memory of seeing Naomi's desperate face above him suddenly came back to haunt him. His first conscious thoughts of arousal were twisted to sudden panic as he realized what was happening. He desperately tried to pull away, but then his worst nightmare came to life. Harsh lights snapped on. Jim's stunned face took in the sight of the two of them. Blair tried to cover himself, ashamed that Jim had to see. God, what must Jim be thinking? What kind of pervert must he think I am? Oh god!

Blair's hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter and he let out a shuddering breath. He realized, too late, that the Sentinel's sensitive hearing would easily pick up the sound of his hammering heartbeat, his rapid breathing. He wished he could squeeze his eyes shut so he could block out the images -- especially the one of Jim staring at him in stunned silence -- as if what he saw was overloading the Sentinel's senses. The mere thought of Jim discovering his most private, hateful secret made Blair want to cry out in pain.

"Turn around, Chief."

"Wh... what?"

He felt a warm hand touch his shoulder lightly for a moment, then pull away.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You don't need to be out here -- not tonight of all nights. And not this case. Not after..."

Blair sat up straighter in the seat, and then turned to face the larger man sitting across from him. "What do you mean turn around, Jim? Is Joel waiting for us at the crime scene or isn't he?"

"He can wait a few more minutes, Blair. I need to take you back home to the loft. You don't need to do this tonight, okay? I can have a squad car come pick me up to take me to the crime scene."

Blair let out a soft sigh. His Blessed Protector was back full force after the dissertation disaster and Zeller's attack on Major Crimes. They still had a ton of issues to work through between them, and the newest step that they had taken in their relationship was complicating things a bit more, but the Sentinel's protector mode was operating at full strength these days. Blair felt a chill run up his back. He suddenly realized how lucky Naomi was tonight. Jim could easily have killed her -- seeing nothing else but the need to protect his Guide and lover at all costs.

He looked at Jim, whose death grip on the dashboard in front of him belied his outwardly calm expression.

"We're not going back, Jim. I'm okay with this, really."

"No, Chief. I can't let you deal with this right now. Joel and I can handle the crime scene."

Blair felt his frustration growing by leaps and bounds. Although there were times he really appreciated how Jim looked out for him, dealing with Blessed Protector mode could really be a downer at times. It made Blair feel like Jim didn't trust him to be able to deal with much of anything -- like he was a child. It reminded Blair of how Naomi treated him most of the time -- like he was her little possession instead of the adult he had finally become. Well, no more.

Blair noticed a Cascade Federal Bank just up the block and its well-lit parking lot alongside the building. Without a word, the young anthropologist pulled the Volvo into the vacant parking lot by the bank and brought the car to a complete stop. Turning off the ignition and the lights, he stared out the windshield for a long, silent moment.

Blair swallowed, then looked up into the Sentinel's piercing eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Jim. I really do. But you don't have to treat me like I'm damaged goods here, man. I'm all right."

He watched the older man study him for a long moment, as if using his full senses to determine whether Blair was lying or not. Jim blinked, then let out a loud sigh.

"Okay, if you say so. But I'm not all right with this, Chief." Jim brushed his fingertips through his short-cropped hair. "I just... I just don't know what happened back there in the loft with Naomi."

"It's a long story, Jim, and we're expected at a crime scene -- remember?"

Jim stared back at him. That cool stare. God... Jim must hate me. Does he think I wanted that -- wanted Naomi to do that?

"You say it's a long story, Chief. Does that mean this has happened before? That she's molested you before tonight?"

Blair looked away. God, that word. Molest. It made him think of dirty old men lurking in dark alleys looking for little boys to take home as a little plaything. Not something he pictured his mother ever doing. Not to him. Not to anyone. He did not want to do this, talk about it. Not now, not ever. Was he going to have to spell it all out here -- in the parking lot of Cascade Federal -- before Jim would let him drive to the crime scene? A boy was missing, that's what Joel Taggart had told Jim. God, what spark of insanity made someone do that to a child -- a poor defenseless, trusting, naive child?

He felt his chest constricting, his breath coming in shorter, weaker gasps. Shutting his eyes, he tried to relax his body's reaction to the suddenly wild spiral of his thoughts and memories. Images long since buried sprang up into his mind unbidden, images of a much younger Naomi, standing naked in front of him, telling Blair to trust her, that he needed to do something to be accepted, so they'd be allowed to stay. He recalled what it felt like as Naomi peeled the shorts off of his sweaty body, how her fingers set him on fire and made him feel so incredibly ashamed that his mother would... that he would... that everyone expected they would...

Powerful hands reached down to his hips and Blair suddenly realized it was happening again. He let out a stifled scream as another hand brushed across his waist. He heard the metallic click of something being unbuckled. Strong arms enfolded him, pulling him close.

"It's okay. You're safe, Chief."

Caught up in the sudden flashback, he didn't recognize the calm voice at first and instead struggled against the body that was pressed up against him.

"No... no... no! Don't...! I don't want to do this...! Please don't make me..."

"Blair. It's okay. It's Jim. Come on, buddy. Come back to me."

The voice kept repeating the calming mantra over and over again. Finally, the message sifted through Blair's consciousness and reality righted itself in a sudden jolt.

"Oh god. Oh god."

"You're okay, Chief. I'm right here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. You're safe."

"Oh god!" Blair let go of the lapels to Jim's leather jacket and ran his hands around the big man's neck, hugging his protector close. He buried his face against Jim's neck. "I'm sorry. I really lost it there for awhile. Oh god. I'm sorry, Jim."

"You're okay, buddy. You have nothing to apologize for. Just take in a deep breath and let it out slowly -- like you tell me to do all the time in those damn relaxation exercises you have me do."

Blair had to grin a little bit as he tried to follow his own advice. As he slowed his breathing, he could feel Jim's fingertips rub in slow, soothing circles along his back and shoulders. The older man's lips pressed against his temple and brushed along his cheek. Jim continued to whisper comforting words into his ear as Blair worked on relaxing his breathing. In time, it did work. Little by little, Blair felt himself calming, the panic attack abating. The images and fears from his flashback retreated into the haze where they had remained for years. Filling the void was an overwhelming embarrassment and grief. He wasn't sure he liked the new feeling that took form, but he figured anything was better than a panic attack.

When he felt strong enough, Blair tried to push away from Jim, but the big detective refused to budge.

"Come on, man," Blair groaned as he pressed a hand against Jim's chest, trying again to push himself away. "I mean, it's embarrassing enough that you saw... that you walked in when Naomi...! And now... now you must think I'm totally screwed up after this, man. A total freak show on legs."

He snuffled against the collar of Jim's flannel shirt, feeling the warmth of the Sentinel's skin flow through the soft material and out to his face. He never wanted to leave this spot, but he was afraid it would only reinforce his fear that Jim had fallen in love with a total wuss. Jim would have a field day about his neediness. Why did Jim put up with him in the first place? Their relationship was so new, and Blair wasn't sure if he trusted fully in it yet. He was so tired of being hurt. He just didn't want to be hurt again. But he was trying. They both were really trying. They had to make this work. Blair didn't think he could survive if it didn't.

Blair felt the powerful arms hug him tighter. A large hand ran up to cup the back of his neck and warm, soft lips pressed against his temple.

"A freak show on legs, huh? That's why I love ya, kid," the larger man whispered, his voice husky with unmasked emotion. "We can be screwed up together and start charging admission."

Blair let out a snort and then began laughing in gasping chokes. "Yeah... they can put our cage right there between the Ape Man and the Horse with Two Heads."

Jim snorted. "The Ape Man's cool, but the Two-Headed Horse? No way, Darwin. I've always been partial to the Bearded Lady, myself."

The two men laughed and Blair felt his spirits lighten as they continued to embrace in an affectionate hug. They stayed that way for a long moment and the same feeling came over him as before. It was the same feeling he had when Jim held him close that first time -- a couple days after the press conference. The night Naomi left to spend the weekend with friends, and Jim took the opportunity of a private evening together to pour his heart out to Blair. Lying in bed with Jim that night, knowing his Sentinel loved him like no other and never wanted him to leave, Blair felt safe and secure for the very first time in his life. Growing up a nomad as he did, moving from one location to another, he never thought he would ever find a true home. Even his life with Jim, his stay at the loft, had felt temporary -- even after four years. Hell, he had been kicked out before, without a moment's notice. But now, Blair was truly home. He may not know what tomorrow may bring, now that his career at Rainier, his doctorate, everything he had ever hoped and dreamed for had just been flushed down the toilet. But if it took letting go of that to have this -- his Sentinel by his side, loving him, working together instead of against each other -- then maybe it all would have been worth the pain that it took them to get to this place. It was about friendship. And now, it was about love.

Finally, Blair let out a quiet sigh and lifted his head from Jim's shoulder. "You know Joel's going to send out an APB on us pretty soon if we don't get our butts over to the crime scene and pronto."

"I know," Jim said, his voice tight. The detective cupped Blair's face in his hands and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. Finally coming up for air, he then brushed sensitive fingertips through Blair's curls. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

Blair couldn't look into Jim's eyes, not when his emotions were so close to the surface. He cleared his throat slightly, patting Jim's muscular arm, and then whispered, "Thanks."

"Any time, Chief. But I meant what I said -- I'd still like you to sit this one out."

"Can't, Jim. My place is by your side."

After a long moment, Jim finally nodded his head. "Okay, partner. And thanks."

"Any time, Jim."

The two men pulled away from each other and buckled themselves in again. Blair switched on the ignition and pulled the Volvo out of the parking lot. Turning back onto the street, they headed straight for Matthew Calhoun's home.

Unbeknownst to Blair, a dark sedan pulled out from the curb next to Cascade Federal, its headlights turned off -- following the Volvo at a distance so as not to be detected.

-- Finis (for now) --