Contains mature sexual situations.

Adam and Eve

by MaryReilly

Disclaimer: A big surprise: this story involves love between men, physical, spiritual, and social. Maybe that’s why you found it filed under ‘slash?’ It also features sexual activities between members of the opposite sex (technically). The song is “Adam and Eve,” by the October Project, from their album “Falling Farther In,” which I cannot recommend highly enough.
Oh, and I don’t claim to own Jim Ellison or Blair Sandburg, or any of the other recognizable characters; I’m just borrowing them for a little storytelling. They are all owned by UPN and Pet Fly Productions, and they can have them back when I’m done. I promise to remain respectful to the characters, barring the obvious and necessary twist.
Send comments to author by clicking on link above. If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.

Harvest, September.

Only ever really one story
Another night of death and misery ended, and Jim Ellison, the Sentinel, wearily walked up the stairs to his home. Behind him, even more exhausted, was his Guide, Blair Sandburg. Both men were physically spent and emotionally drained from dealing with this night’s horror.

Jim opened the door to the loft, and let Blair precede him into the forgiving warmth of their home. Blair sighed, and barely made it inside before slumping to the floor, supported only by the counter.

Jim walked in and carefully locked the door. He smiled at the smaller man. “Rough day?” His weak attempt at humor brought a faint smile to Blair’s lips, but that quickly faded.

Blair closed his eyes. “Jim, I can’t go on like this.”

A flash of fear ripped through Jim. “C’mon, Blair,” he said encouragingly, “it’s not always like this.” At the same time, he ruthlessly pushed away all thoughts of the vile firebug who had made the lives of the Sentinel and his Guide a waking nightmare for the past two weeks, the wretched firestarter who had gotten away. Again.

“It’s not ‘this,’” smiled Blair sadly. “It’s just part of it.”

“What then?”

Blair tilted his head back, and blinked up at Jim. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to tell the truth without obfuscating or sugar-coating it. “Every time you put yourself in the line of fire, a little part of me dies, because I’m so afraid that you’ll never come back.”

“Blair--”

“And all I’d have left would be my memories. I don’t know if that will be enough.”

“Oh - Blair--” Frightened and sad, Jim knelt down to hug his friend.

Blair hugged him back fiercely, and pulled Jim down to sit next to him. “I know you’re straight. I know we talked about this before, but just once, I want to fall asleep next to you,” said Blair desperately. “Just once.”

A cold sadness filled Jim. It hurt Blair so much, and all because Jim’s wiring was firmly heterosexual. He’d thought about it, wondered if he could try, but men - even Blair - left him cold. Jim looked at Blair’s sad, lonely blue eyes and knew that he couldn’t deny him this. Just once. “C’mon,” he whispered, and together they went up to Jim’s room.

Blair held Jim’s hand as they walked up the stairs, but pulled away when he saw the bed, beckoning him with all the dreams that he knew would never come true.

Before Blair could say a word, Jim could hear his breathing change and his heart start to beat harder. Jim turned and kissed Blair, anything to keep him there as long as he could.

It was at once easier and harder than he thought it would be. Harder, with sharp stubble scraping his hypersensitive skin and making Jim acutely aware that he was kissing another man. Easier, as Blair sank willingly into his arms, a comfortable familiar warmth. Jim could feel Blair’s heartbeat slow and even out, and he knew that his kiss was merely the extension of the many hugs and gentle touches that he used every day, to reacquaint himself with Blair and to calm and center his Guide.

When he looked at it that way, it was easy.

“Jim, this isn’t what I meant,” Blair tried to explain, as he pulled away from Jim’s powerful kiss.

“But it’s what you want, isn’t it? I can do this, Blair, if you’ll let me. I mean, I’ll try,” Jim offered. His blue eyes shone in the dim moonlight that had danced into the loft.

Blair reached up, hesitantly, frightened to accept what was being offered, but too desperate, too hungry to refuse. Finally, he closed the distance between them, letting his hand rest on Jim’s cheek and offering his mouth for another kiss.

Jim kissed gently at first, but the heady scent of Blair’s arousal was stimulating despite the bitter tang that marked it as another male’s. Jim carded his hands through Blair’s soft curls, losing himself in the feel of the curls; in the taste of Blair’s mouth, sweet with the sugar from his coffee, and the sharp taste of blood where Blair had bitten the inside of his lip.

But it was the sounds that were his undoing.

The sound of Blair panting beneath him while they kissed; the sound of cloth rustling on cloth as they moved against each other; the sound of cloth hitting the floor as Blair shed the first layer of flannel. The sound of Blair’s heart beating in a passionate rhythm with his own. The sound of denim, damp with sweat and semen, pulling away from skin as Blair came in his arms. The sounds of two people having sex.

“Deargodinheaven,” gasped Blair, shuddering.

Jim turned him, so that Blair collapsed to the bed, and Jim laid down on top of him. His kisses moved on to other body parts, Blair’s neck, the unfamiliar Adam’s apple, down to that sensitive hollow at the base of the throat. This required the shedding of more clothes, which Jim did through the simple and expedient method of ripping them away from Blair’s body, pausing only briefly to pull off his own shirt and jacket as well.

Then there was a new sensation: being skin to skin with Blair, moist from sweat, and Blair’s scent mingled with his own. Jim rubbed his face in the curls that covered Blair’s chest. Blair moaned eagerly, and the sound made Jim’s cock twitch in the confines of his jeans.

“Oh, god, Jim, please....”

Blair was using his Guide voice, Jim realized. That, combined with the rich scent of Blair and sex, convinced Jim to finish stripping away the rest of Blair’s clothes. Just to see.

Jim pulled off Blair’s boots and socks with ease, but his jeans were stuck to him. Jim growled in impatience, and whipped out his knife. Blair’s eyes widened with equal parts of shock and lust, and Jim made short work of the offending garment, not to mention Blair’s underwear.

Blair did nothing to help, and let Jim destroy his clothes, opening himself to his Sentinel’s ravages. And ravage he did, throwing the knife over Blair’s head, and when it hit the wall, Jim dropped to his knees and took Blair’s throbbing cock in his mouth. He wanted to taste that part of Blair so badly; it was like a madness had come over him. Jim hoped he wouldn’t regret it in the morning.

Blair arched, thrusting deeply into Jim’s hot mouth. His eyes were fixed on the knife quivering in the wall behind him. A deep moan escaped the younger man, and he realized that he was about to come again. He reached down to touch Jim, to warn him, but instead his hands met the smooth muscles of Jim’s back. Blair stroked them, the broad shoulders, the godlike physique that had plagued his dreams for three years.

Jim savored the taste of Blair in his mouth. It was so different, and yet so familiar. Blair tasted like his scent, and Jim couldn’t get enough of either. Any sexual pleasure he got out of this was merely secondary. His mind was getting off on this as it was; and his body couldn’t be too far behind. It rocked Jim that he could do this to his Guide, that his Guide would be helplessly gripping his shoulders for balance as he thrust mindlessly into Jim’s mouth, that he had gotten Blair to come just by kissing him. Jim flicked his tongue one last time over the slit at the tip of Blair’s penis, and quickly moved back as Blair came, filling Jim’s mouth with salty, bitter come.

Blair melted into the bed, and just lay there. Stunned. Sated.

Jim pulled himself back onto the bed, propping himself on his elbows over Blair. His Guide needed this so badly; he couldn’t stop now. “Blair?” Jim waited until their eyes met and locked; one set hungry, one set curious. “How do you want me - to do this?”

Blair’s eyes were luminous in the moonlight, vivid and enchanting even to this Sentinel’s eyes. “I’m okay with what you’ve done - what you’re doing - it’s more than I ever hoped for, Jim.” Blair’s whisper was honest enough, but Jim could sense the unfulfilled desire that lay beneath it.

“Your dreams, Blair. This is about your dreams.” Jim moved his body closer to Blair, letting the man beneath him feel the extent of his willingness to continue, in the form of his now-painful erection. “What do you want?”

“oh god i want you inside me so bad please jim please take me fuck me make me yours --” the words spilled over each other trying to escape Blair’s lips without being screamed at the top of his lungs. Blair writhed, spreading his legs and wrapping himself around Jim, heedless of the fact that Jim was still half-clothed. Blair’s hands dug firmly into the back of Jim’s neck, holding the Sentinel’s head tightly against his body as he whispered his desire over and over against the skin of Jim’s neck.

Jim was a little shocked. He had expected Blair to ask for something entirely different. He certainly hadn’t expected to want to do what Blair wanted. Blair’s nails were digging into his skin, and he could feel each tiny rip as another pulse in his own throbbing cock. Jim took a deep breath, trying to keep as much control as he could, and kissed Blair.

Blair met his kiss for strength, for depth, for passion. There were going to be two sets of sorely bruised lips in the loft tomorrow.

“You have to show me,” growled Jim when Blair pulled away to breathe.

“I’m your Guide,” Blair smiled. “I can do that.” Blair raised his hand to Jim’s lips, and Jim dutifully licked them. “More,” Blair whispered, again using his Guide voice and commanding Jim’s total obedience. He pulled his fingers away, and inserted one slick wet finger into his own anus as Jim watched, mesmerized. Blair grunted at the first penetration, but soon he added another finger, stroking himself quickly, fired by the knowledge that Jim was watching him, that Jim wanted him, that he was going to be very throughly fucked by Jim Ellison in the near future.

Blair had to shift, raising his hips to thrust his fingers in deeper and farther, and Jim suddenly remembered how to breathe. He drew in one gasping breath, filling his nostrils with the rich earthy scent of Blair’s body. Jim moved away from the bed, and pulled off his jeans before he did himself serious damage. He managed to tear his eyes away from the sight of Blair fucking himself with three fingers, and started to walk to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Blair half-snarled, half-gasped.

“Condoms,” said Jim woodenly. He could hear every thrust of Blair’s hips as they rose from the surface of the bed, meeting his hand, and then back down again. He could hear the glide of skin on skin, lubricated by sweat, and the fluid from the first two eruptions.

“No,” said Blair quickly.

“What?”

“Not with you, Jim. You wouldn’t hurt me. You couldn’t.” Blair pulled his hand away, and displayed himself for his Sentinel’s eyes.

Jim’s erection was past caring. Jim’s mind was out of the loop. He could hear trust and need in his Guide’s voice, and that had to be enough.

Jim returned to the bed, with only temporary misgivings, banished by the sound of Blair’s heart speeding up in anticipation. He could do this.

Blair’s small hand wrapped around Jim’s thick cock, stroking it roughly and spreading the leaking pre-cum as more lubrication. Blair guided Jim over him, slowly working the thick head into his body. Jim gritted his teeth, waiting for Blair to tell him it was okay to move, or that it wasn’t going to work. Anything.

He felt something new; a soft ‘pop’ and then tight, strong muscles were clutching at his cock, and Blair’s hands were back on his shoulders, pulling him into Blair’s body. Blair moaned, and Jim thought of how beautiful Blair would be as a woman. He tried to take it slowly, but just one stroke showed him that his ability to fool himself was gone. Jim could feel his control being stripped away by instinct, driving him to grip Blair’s hips harder, to thrust faster, to bite down on Blair’s strong, tanned shoulder, marking him and making Blair scream with animal pleasure.

Jim realized that there was more to that scream - with it came the dark, deep scent of Blair’s pleasure. Again. Blair’s body convulsed around him, clasping Jim’s cock with more strength than he ever thought possible. The physical pleasure and sensations drove Jim to the edge, and he screamed too, thrusting again, giving in to the primal instinct that demanded that he drive his seed as far as possible, even though there were no eggs to compete for in this partner.

Bonelessly, Jim slid from Blair’s body, and pulled Blair to him for comfort. Blair let himself be held, but as the sweat began to evaporate from their bodies, he sat up and pulled away.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Jim nodded weakly in return. A shower would be a wonderful thing. Now that he wasn’t in the heat of the moment, he could smell himself and he didn’t want to.

Blair rolled off the bed and walked gracefully to the stairs, and it took Jim a moment to realize that the young man was limping.

“Oh god,” Jim moaned. He’d hurt Blair. He felt sick.

Blair walked down the stairs, slowly and carefully in the dark, and walked into the bathroom. Jim waited patiently, turning down his sense of smell as far as he could.

As soon as Blair came out of the shower, Jim walked downstairs and hovered outside the bathroom door, listening to Blair brush his teeth.

Blair finished and wasn’t particularly surprised to find Jim waiting there when he came out. Both men were naked, and each could see the marks of passion explicit on the other’s body.

Jim flushed with shame. He’d never been so vicious in bed before. Had it been Blair’s desperate need? Or simply the fact that Blair was a man, and strong enough to take it?

Blair stepped forward and kissed Jim sweetly on the lips.

It is just like hugging, Jim thought, and returned the kiss in equal measure.

“I’m going to get some clothes,” Blair announced. “It’s cold in here.”

“I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll come keep you warm,” Jim offered. Blair’s eyes shone with delight, and Jim knew that he’d done the right thing. All of it, even the parts that made his skin crawl now that he thought about it. His Guide was smiling and happy.

Jim showered quickly, and stepped out with relief. He didn’t reek quite so badly anymore. Jim walked back upstairs, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Blair had changed the sheets.

“I saw your nose. It was very expressive.” Blair patted the bed, and sat down himself.

Jim joined him on the bed and looked at Blair curiously.

“I know why you did it, you know.”

“Blair-”

“You were scared that I was going to leave you.”

Jim nodded, shamed and silent, and Blair pulled him into a strong hug.

“Oh, Jim, I love you. But I can’t do this, and you can’t either.”

Blair’s soft whisper scared him more than he thought it would, and Jim clutched him tightly. “No! Blair, you can’t leave.” Jim was aware of how pathetic he sounded, but he couldn’t do anything else.

“I’ll come back,” Blair promised quickly. “It’ll just be for a little while.”

Jim sat up sharply. “How long?”

Blair shook his head and looked away from Jim’s eyes, like a child’s eyes, filled with hurt and fear. “I’m not sure. Can we talk about this in the morning?” Blair looked back at Jim, facing the pain that he had caused, and stroked the noble planes of Jim’s sweet face. “I’ll come back.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” confessed Jim. “I feel so stupid!” Why can’t I do this one simple thing? he asked himself savagely. Why can’t I love Blair the way he wants me to?

“I wouldn’t want you to be anything other than you are, Jim. I love you. I know what you just did, and the fact that you did it for me leaves me weak. I don’t deserve you - don’t interrupt, it’s rude,” grinned Blair, moving his hand to cut off Jim’s words, “but I want you. I just need some time away from you to sort myself out.” He paused to kiss Jim, and went on. “I’ll always be your Guide. No matter where you go, I’ll follow. I’ll come back. Just give me a little time.”

Jim knew what Blair was asking him for, but couldn’t say the words, and instead snuggled into Blair’s chest. “I believe you,” he said finally.

Year’s End, October.

Only ever really one story A boy and a girl and a dream of the world, an apple, a kiss
Jim sat in the living room, sprawled gracelessly on the couch and tried not to listen as Blair made the final arrangements for his trip. All of his things were already packed and gone to storage, or waiting to be taken to the train station early tomorrow morning. Jim understood, intellectually, why Blair wouldn’t tell him where he was going, but it still hurt. It had hurt all week, starting with Blair’s admission that he’d been planning to leave all month. That his desperate actions of that night had been too late.

“It’ll be for a year or two,” said Blair softly. “Not much more. No more than three.” He had walked out of his room to stand quietly behind the couch. “Doctor Church couldn’t be more specific.”

Jim just nodded. All he knew was that it was a very involved research project, and Dr. Church was very pleased to have Blair on board. The Anthropology department at Rainer was holding a position for Blair whenever he returned, in reward for his loyalty and the time he’d put in over the last three years, and of course, for the chance to be associated with the results of Blair’s work when he did return. It was a good deal for everyone. Really.

“I probably won’t be anywhere with mail or phones.”

Jim felt the pain of abandonment knife through him, and concentrated on counting the imperfections in the floor.

“Say something, Jim.”

“Something.”

Blair laughed, suddenly and honestly. “You need help, man,” and with that he jumped over the couch to sit next to Jim. “Can I give you a hug?”

Jim turned to face him, and let himself be wrapped in the warm haven of Blair’s arms. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Jim-” Blair started, but his words stopped when Jim tilted his head to bring them together for a kiss, pausing only to carefully pull away Blair’s glasses.

Jim put all of his longing into that kiss, all his need, all his willingness to do whatever it would take to keep his Guide with him, here, where he belonged.

Blair drowned in that kiss for one wild moment, than struggled to regain his self-control. He was losing the battle, and finally panicked. He shoved Jim away roughly. “Dammit, Jim! Don’t do this to me! I’m trying to help us both.” He stood up, using physical distance to try and control his need. Jim stared at him silently, the way an unhappy cat will stare at its human. Blair paced the room in agitation. “You know you need this just as much as I do. You know it!”

“I don’t want it,” said Jim sullenly.

“Do the words, ‘unhealthy co-dependency’ mean anything to you?” Blair muttered too low for anyone except an attentive Sentinel to hear.

“You’re my Guide!” Jim exploded, and surged out of the couch, grabbing Blair and throwing him against the wall in one smooth motion. “I don’t know what else to do. I want you to stay here with me, but I know I have to let you go.” Jim stood there, listening to Blair’s quickened breathing. For a second he thought he might have frightened his friend, but his senses told him that he had triggered an entirely different set of responses. Not fear.

Jim took a deep breath, stretching his senses to their limits, and filled himself with Blair. His scent, as familiar to Jim as his own and a thousand times more precious. His feel, his body trembling beneath Jim’s hands with tightly repressed need. His sounds, soft shuddering breaths that Jim knew could easily become cries of passion. His looks. Oh, Jim knew all about his Guide’s looks. He knew what made this moment so special - the slight flush coloring his skin, the bruised and slightly parted his lips, the wild disarray of his curls - and more, so much more, that would take an eternity to catalog. And his taste. Jim leaned forward to kiss Blair again, despite the protests of what was left of his rational mind.

“No, Jim, we cannot do this,” said Blair shakily. He smelled like need, and Jim could feel the hardness against his thigh contradicting Blair’s statement.

“But you want me to?” Without waiting for an answer, Jim yanked up Blair’s shirt and slid his hands up over Blair’s warm skin, losing himself in the feel of the soft hair on his chest, feeling the nipples grow hard and stiff as he caressed them. The madness returned, with a fury that Jim hadn’t expected. He needed to hear Blair crying out for him, he needed to smell his sweat mingled with his own. He needed to be inside Blair.

Blair arched with a wordless moan, brushing his hips against Jim. All his protests had faded, burned away by the elemental need to let his Sentinel have his way.

Jim worked one leg between Blair’s, lifting him so that he could slide one hand down to work Blair’s hardness. Blair threw his arms around Jim’s neck for balance and began thrusting into Jim’s hand, moaning wordlessly in white-hot need.

“Yes, baby, come on, show me you need me,” growled Jim. He nuzzled Blair’s neck, nipping with his teeth, and in return, Blair bit and scratched every part of Jim’s body that he could reach. “Yes, that’s it, baby.” He shifted, moving his hands to open and peel away Blair’s pants. Jim ran his hands down the length of Blair’s hot throbbing flesh, and underneath it, touching his balls, and one finger found its way to brush over the tightly guarded gateway, and Blair writhed.

“Jim!” he gasped desperately, raising his ass in a blatant invitation to let Jim’s finger enter him. Jim accepted the offer, and slowly worked his finger into his Guide. He used short strokes, not wanting to hurt Blair, until he reached the spot that he hadn’t even been aware that he’d been searching for. But he knew it was right when he felt Blair shudder and tighten around his finger. “More, Jim, please, I need you, I need more,” Blair cried hoarsely.

Jim moved Blair, pushing him down over the arm of the couch. Jim pulled Blair’s pants completely away, and opened his own. Jim stroked his cock, bringing himself to full hardness. His eyes noticed the bottle of oil left in the living room from the salad they’d shared at lunch today, and Jim grabbed it. He poured a generous amount on himself, and then on Blair, who spread himself with an eager moan. Jim returned his finger to Blair’s waiting ass, entering him easily. Jim moved his finger in an imitation of what he remembered seeing Blair do to himself the last time they’d been together, adding another finger when Blair began thrusting back against his hand.

A long moan, almost a whine, came out of Blair. “No, more, Jim, more!”

Jim pulled his fingers away and moved the head of his cock, slick with sweat and oil and the first few drops of pre-come, to enter Blair slowly. The moan became a scream, eager and hungry, and then Blair started begging with his voice and his body, full-blown screams of passion and rotating his hips on every thrust of Jim’s cock.

Jim leaned forward, never losing his rhythm, so that he could reach down and take Blair into his hand. “That’s it, come for me, baby,” he urged as he stroked in and out of Blair’s body.

The combined stimulus was too much for Blair. He threw back his head and screamed loud enough to cause Jim pain as he came in Jim’s hand. Jim flinched, but the feel of the muscles in Blair’s ass gripping and releasing him was more than enough to distract him. Blair sank bonelessly into the couch, but kept his hips up for Jim. Jim started fucking Blair savagely, trying to get himself off. He realized he was thrusting hard enough to shift the couch, but Blair made no complaint.

Blair arched back, taking in as much of Jim’s cock as he could, giving as good as he got from Jim’s fucking. Jim had one hand on Blair’s back, holding him down, and the other was on Blair’s shoulder, fingers playing in the long brown curls and clutching tightly.

Jim pulled out as far as he dared, and slammed back into Blair as hard as he could. His cock twitched, then filled the tight dark passage with his seed. Jim started to slump over Blair, but caught himself and pulled away.

Then his senses all calmed down for a second, and Jim realized where he was and what he was doing - or rather, what he had just done. Blair was bruised again, with fresh dark marks on top of the sickly yellow ones from their last encounter. Blair stood up, and Jim could smell and see semen - his semen - slowly leaking down Blair’s thighs.

Jim took a shallow breath, and staggered into the bathroom. He fought down a wave of nausea. “What the hell is wrong with me?” he asked himself aloud, and behind him he could hear Blair sigh in despair. Jim pulled off the rest of his clothes, and threw them into the hamper before he jumped into the shower to wash the mingled scents and sweat away.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Blair demanded just before the water started running, and Jim couldn’t tell if Blair was talking to him or to himself.

Jim came out of the shower, dripping and sheepish. Blair had dressed, in clean clothes, and his duffel bag was by the door. He’d piled their dirty clothes by the door to the bathroom. “Where are all the towels?”

“In the laundry. Hurry up and get dressed.” Jim could hear the annoyance in Blair’s voice, and it seemed to be pretty equally divided between himself and Jim.

“What?” Jim looked at the clock. Four? In the morning? “Oh my god, your train!” It would take an hour to get to the station, and Blair needed to be there to pick up his tickets and board before six. “Do you want to shower?”

“I’ll be fine, just get dressed,” said Blair with strained patience.

Jim ran upstairs and used a sheet to wipe himself dry as best he could. He dressed quickly, ready to ignore the cold for speed, throwing on jeans and a sweater before running back downstairs. “I’m ready,” he announced. “Is there anything else?” he asked, hefting the duffel bag.

Blair shouldered his backpack. “I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

“Do you want to get breakfast or something? We can pick up donuts and coffee, it’ll only take a minute.” Jim was so nervous he was bouncing, and he couldn’t quite keep his senses from taking in the fact that Blair still smelled very strongly like sex and Jim Ellison.

Blair agreed, and they stopped at a donut shack for sugar and caffeine. Jim welcomed the distraction, and drove through the lightening night as fast as he dared. The train station was bustling, even at this hour. By the time they picked up Blair’s tickets, his train had started boarding. Jim walked with Blair down to his gate and allowed Blair to kiss him goodbye.

It was harder to do in public, in full control of his senses. No madness came over him to make it easier, but he did his best, despite the stares that he thought could feel and the muttering that he knew he could hear but filtered out. Jim concentrated on kissing Blair, holding him tightly and opening his mouth to taste his Guide and be tasted. Blair could tell the difference, and Jim knew it by the sad smile on Blair’s face when they finally pulled away from each other.

“I’m sorry,” whispered Blair. “I love you, Jim. It’ll be all right.” His voice was so low that only Jim could hear it.

Jim nodded, unwilling to speak. He wanted desperately to believe that, but didn’t know if he could.

Blair boarded the train, and went right to the window of his compartment. He easily found Jim’s eyes watching him from the platform, and hoped desperately that Jim wouldn’t just zone right there. He watched Jim watch him as the engines started up, and the train pulled away. Blair stayed at the window, watching until he knew that not even a Sentinel could see him anymore.

Then, and only then, did he let himself cry, dreaming of a day when Jim would look at his body without disgust, and prayed that the day would come soon.

Winter’s First Day, December.

Only ever really one story A boy and a girl and a dream of the world, an apple, a kiss A moment of sky, a moment you choose without knowing why
“Why me?” Jim was doing his best not to whine, but could tell from the grin on Simon’s face that he was failing miserably.

“One more time -” Simon turned to the gathered officers of the Cascade P.D. Major Crimes Division, “everyone?”

“Detective of the Year!” they chorused, much to Jim’s despair.

Simon chuckled, and handed Jim the fluffy white beard. “Now, get going.”

With a disgruntled sigh, Jim went off to play Santa for the local elementary school’s ‘Holiday Safety with Santa.’ Megan went with him, playing Mrs. Claus, and handing out cookies and apple juice to the eager, happy youngsters. Jim had a great time, once he let himself get caught in the silliness of the holiday season. Finally the morning ended, and Jim retreated to the teacher’s lounge to remove his costume in with a grateful sigh.

He heard someone while he was buttoning his shirt, and turned to see a young boy walk up to the water cooler. “Hey.”

“Hi,” said the boy, giving no explanation for his presence. “Is that a real gun?”

“Yep.” Jim grinned. The kid wasn’t in the least bit frightened, of Jim or of being caught. He could hear someone calling, very distantly, for a ‘Todd.’

“Do you get shot at a lot?”

“Not really,” lied Jim smoothly. “It’s more exciting being a cop on T.V. than it is in real life.” He could hear footsteps coming closer, a woman, worried from the speed of her heartbeat. Jim made sure he was decent, then opened the door.

“Todd?”

A young woman walked into the room, looking around. The young boy perked at the sound of his name, but didn’t immediately respond. She wasn’t very tall, and was conservatively dressed; wearing comfortable shoes, a long, straight black skirt with a plain, high-collared, long-sleeved white shirt and a dark brown vest. She had light brown hair, with strands of red and gold in it, twisted back and pinned into a severe bun. A few curls had escaped to frame her delicate face. Her eyes were midnight blue, and she wore tortoiseshell glasses that fit her high cheekbones perfectly. Her only other adornment was a pair of white feather earrings. She wasn’t wearing any perfume, and her deodorant and shampoo were both of the herbal kind that accented her natural scent, rather than masking it.

“I’m over here, Miss K.,” said the little boy into the tense silence in the room, and Jim realized that she’d been staring at him just as long as he’d been staring at her. Jim hoped that meant she liked what she saw, just as much as he did.

“Oh, Todd, you shouldn’t run off like that.” Her voice was nice, deep and even. She spoke carefully, not rushing her words. Jim liked the sound of her voice.

“Sorry,” said the little boy. He didn’t sound sorry at all, and was still watching the two adults watch each other.

The woman walked into the room, and Jim held out his hand to her. “Hi, I’m Jim Ellison.” She shook it shyly. “I was Santa before.”

“Oh,” she smiled in surprise. “Of course, you were.” She was still holding Jim’s hand, and Jim was perfectly happy to keep it that way by not pointing that out to her. “My name is Lacey Kinesley. I’m the teacher’s aide for Mrs. Somner’s third grade class. Thank you for finding Todd, Mr. Ellison.”

“Actually, he found me. And, please,” Jim smiled, “call me Jim.”

Todd made a gagging noise and rolled his eyes. Lacey looked down, and realized that she and Jim were still holding hands, and smiled, taking her hand back gracefully.

“I’m not -” she stopped, and shook her head of whatever she had been about to say and held her hand out to Todd instead. “We should get back to the others now.”

Todd looked askance at her hand. “No way, Miss K. You’ve got cooties!”

Jim snorted at the look on her face, and she laughed too before shooing Todd out of the lounge. “Now!” She turned to leave, but stopped, and looked up at Jim and smiled openly. That smile was like the sun cresting over the mountains, bright and beautiful. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Ellison. Jim.”

“Uh,” Jim could feel what was left of his brain melting away under the radiance of her smile. He knew that if he spent the rest of his life searching, he would never find anything as beautiful. Jim knew that he could not let this woman just walk out of his life. “Can I give you my phone number? I’d like to see you again.” Jim couldn’t believe he was fumbling over asking someone for a number. He felt like a teenager again, shy and embarrassed and utterly at the control of his hormones.

Lacey smiled shyly at the floor. “I’d like that.” She took a sheet of paper from the copying machine, and carefully wrote out her name and number for him. Jim walked up, and did the same on the bottom half, grinning. They ripped it in half, and exchanged numbers, smiling like teenage conspirators.

“You’ll get cooties,” warned Todd.

“That’ll be just fine with me,” muttered Jim under his breath.

Lacey laughed, whether at Jim or Todd, Jim didn’t know and didn’t care. “Come on, Todd, we really have to get back to the others.” She glanced back at Jim one last time before leaving the room, and this smile was shy and secretive, but no less beautiful. Jim’s Sentinel senses heard her pat the pocket where she’d put his number.

Jim smiled back, and watched her leave. The smile stayed on his face as he folded up the Santa costume, and packed it away. It was still there when Megan arrived to take off her costume.

“Hey, Jim.” She took in his general sense of happiness. “Did you finally catch the holiday spirit?”

Jim shook his head. “Not really, unless the season is Valentine’s Day.”

“Hmm?” grinned Megan. “Spill! What’s up?”

Jim shrugged. “I think Ms. Kinesley is pretty, that’s all.” He could feel himself blushing under Connor’s scrutiny.

“That little one? With all the hair? You think she’s pretty?”

“Yeah.” Jim considered. “Really pretty.”

Megan looked confused. “Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Megan, too quickly for honesty.

“No, really what?”

“She just doesn’t look like your type, that’s all.”

“My type?” repeated Jim softly. “I’m glad she’s not ‘my type;’ maybe that means she won’t try to kill me.”

Megan dropped her eyes. “I’m gonna change out of these clothes. Give a girl some privacy, will you?”

Jim left the room without another word. He wasn’t really sure how to react to Megan’s comment. He wasn’t angry, just disappointed that Megan wasn’t as impressed with Lacey as he had been.

St. Dwyn’s Day, January.

Only ever really one story A boy and a girl and a dream of the world, an apple, a kiss A moment of sky, a moment you choose without knowing why
Burning like a fever inside you
“Hey, Jim, where are you going?”

Jim paused in his rush to the elevator. “I’ve got a date, Simon.”

Simon raised an eyebrow, and Megan looked up from her desk. “It’s not that schoolteacher, is it?” she asked.

Simon shot Megan a confused glance, then looked back at Jim. “What schoolteacher?”

Jim groaned, and threw his hands up to the ceiling in defeat. “Yes, I have a date with Lacey. Her name is Lacey Kinesley, by the way, and she’s an assistant teacher at Second Cascade Elementary, okay? Anything else you need to know?”

Simon stared at Jim. “Step into my office for a second.”

Jim made a face at Megan. “This is your fault.” He followed Simon back to his office.

“Close the door.”

Jim obeyed the command, then turned to face his captain. “What’s this about, Simon?”

“You’re dating someone?” Jim nodded. “That’s a pretty fast rebound, Ellison. Blair’s only been gone for what - two months? Barely?”

Jim’s mouth fell open in shock. “What?” He couldn’t believe what Simon had just said. Worse, what he had implied. “What gave you the idea I needed to ‘rebound’ from Blair? We weren’t even dating! We weren’t a couple! What are you talking about?”

Now it was Simon’s turn to be shocked. “If you two weren’t dating, you should have been! C’mon, Jim. You were certifiable when he left. I’m sorry if I assumed wrong, but you gotta admit, all the signs were there. In neon.”

“You really thought...?” Jim let his question trail off. Simon was right, and too damn close to the truth for comfort. “Never mind. Just - don’t mention it again.”

Simon held up his hands, showing that he was backing off. “You’re right. I won’t.” He sat down in his chair. “So, tell me about this woman. Where are you taking her?”

“We’re having dinner with my father.”

“That’s a bit heavy for the first date. Wait - how long have you been seeing her?”

“Since Christmas,” Jim admitted. “We went to that new Italian restaurant, Posa Posa, for Christmas dinner together, and we’ve been seeing each other pretty steadily since then.”

“Wow.”

“I, uh, I really like her, Simon. And she really likes me - like, serious stuff might start happening soon.”

“Serious? Like, wedding bells and desk job serious?”

Jim nodded. He didn’t even challenge the ‘desk job’ part of Simon’s comment.

“If you’re so serious about her,” asked Simon slowly, “why haven’t you mentioned her to anyone here? Or am I the only one who didn’t know about this schoolteacher of yours?”

Jim had the simple grace to look ashamed. “Well, Megan doesn’t like her for some reason. The other guys think she’s okay, but they don’t know what I see in her. And I was going to introduce you to her, but....” Jim’s voice trailed off. “I wasn’t really up to another round of Lacey-bashing, y’know? They don’t know I can hear them, and it gets on my nerves that everyone is nice to her face. So I just stopped bringing her around.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I’d like to meet her, and I’ll give you my honest opinion. Does it bother you that your friends don’t like your new significant other?”

Jim shrugged. “They didn’t really give her a chance. But it doesn’t change the way I feel about her. Besides,” he added quietly, “they all liked Carolyn, and the rest of my disaster relationships.”

“Good point.” Simon pulled out a cigar. “Well, they say second marriages work out better. Good luck to you, Jim. I hope to meet Lacey soon.”

Jim smiled, as the idea of being ‘Mr. Lacey Kinesley’ danced through his head. “Yeah, that’d be good. We could do dinner next week, if you like,” Jim offered.

“Sounds good. We can talk about it later - you, get out of here. Go on your date.”

Still smiling, Jim let himself out as Simon lit up his cigar. “Keep your calendar open.”

Later, that same day.

Only ever really one story A boy and a girl and a dream of the world, an apple, a kiss A moment of sky, a moment you choose without knowing why
Burning like a fever inside you The heat of your skin and the taste of your lips
William Ellison chuckled at his son’s discomfort, and grinned as the source of his discomfort broke into peals of laughter again.

“Oh, give me that,” Jim said with a mock snarl, and tried to grab the picture away from Lacey.

“That is just so cute,” giggled Lacey, holding up the picture of the Ellison boys after being pulled into the lake by their catch. “Does Steven know you have this?” she asked Sally.

Suppressing another fit of laughter, Sally shook her head. “He didn’t even know I brought a camera on the fishing trip. He’s never seen any of these.”

Jim stared at his father’s housekeeper in shock. “Are you serious? Sally!” Both women burst into a fresh round of laughter. Jim rose from the couch in defeat, and walked over to where his father was smoking by the fireplace. “Hey, Dad.”

“You can’t let them get to you like that, son,” William managed to say without laughing.

Jim looked sourly at his father. “You should see the shot of you outside your tent.”

William started. “What?” He looked over at the two women, eagerly flipping through the family album. “There are no pictures of me in there.”

Finally, it was Jim’s turn to smile. “You keep believing that, Dad.”

William shook his head. “I’ll deal with Sally later. Did you want to ask me something earlier?”

Jim quickly checked that Lacey was still engrossed with the myriad embarrassments of Jim’s childhood. “Um, yeah. Can we go outside?”

The two Ellison men walked out onto the porch. “Well?” asked William impatiently.

Jim looked inside again, to make sure Lacey couldn’t see him, and pulled out the small velvet box. “I wanted to get your opinion on something.”

“Ah,” he said, as perfect understanding descended. William opened the box and examined the small ring, sized perfectly to fit one slender hand. It had one single flawless diamond, tension mounted, surrounded by a series of smaller, equally flawless rubies, all set on a gold band, elaborately worked to recall the antique marcasite ring that Sarah Jennifer Ellison had worn until the day she took her own life. William shook off the past, and returned the ring. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly.

Jim smiled nervously. “I tried not to make it too...” He lost the courage to mention his mother’s ring out loud. Even after all this time, even knowing how much his father had changed, he still couldn’t do it.

“It’s beautiful,” William repeated. “It suits her.” He handed back the box. “The jeweler on Russian Street?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah. She was great. Thanks. For everything.”

“So, when are you going to ask her?”

“I haven’t really decided,” said Jim, blushing. He looked up, to see his father’s scornful disbelief. “All right, I thought maybe, Valentine’s Day would be good.”

William raised his eyes in disbelief. “Are you hoping for a June wedding. too?”

“Lacey’s really romantic. Dates mean a lot to her.” Jim was turning redder by the second.

“Lacey’s romantic?” William smiled. “I see, you’re just indulging her.”

“It makes her smile,” said Jim in a voice dangerously approaching a whine.

William placed a kindly hand on his son’s shoulder. “I understand. It’s never too late to fall in love, is it?”

The Ellison men looked fondly at their respective women. William, at the housekeeper who had turned his mansion into a home and still made him smile after all the pain and the years they’d been through together; Jim, at the lonely beauty who had appeared in his life just in time to save him from despair. Lacey looked up, and nudged Sally. Sally held up a picture of William Ellison crawling back into the fishing boat, and waved the men in.

“Come back in here! Aren’t you guys cold?” she called.

William shook his head sadly. “Why did we ever let them become friends?” he groaned.

Jim smiled, and followed his father inside. Lacey’s friendship with Sally had gone a long way towards patching up the bad blood between Jim and his father. William had liked Lacey immediately, and they were friendly in a way that Carolyn and William had never been. Lacey had somehow managed to find all the gaps in Jim’s life, and was filling them in one by one. A small part of him was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the rest of him was finally ready to believe that she really was the one.

Lacey smiled up at Jim, as if she could tell he was getting too serious, and whispered, “I love you,” before bending her head down again to the photo album.

Jim touched the box hidden in his pocket, and smiled at the thought of making this woman his wife.

Part II