Jim and Blair walked down the hall to the autopsy room. Jim glanced over at his young friend, wondering if the kid was going to be all right with seeing the body again. Devan had really butchered the young male student from Blair's University.

Sandburg hadn't known the young man, but it was still hard to think that something so horrible had happened right on his home turf. He took a deep breath, and gave Jim a reassuring smile as they entered the autopsy room. He knew Jim had to do this, he had to try again to determine what kind of weapon had been used to mutilate the poor student, to see if this Devan had been responsible for a number of other similar murders in the past few months. Blair shuddered as he remembered how nice Devan had seemed, the one time on campus when Blair had stopped to help the middle-aged man pick up a toolbox he'd dropped. Blair had gotten engaged in a short, but completely pleasant conversation with the school's new handyman. He'd had no clue at that time what Devan was capable of.

Then Blair had discovered Gerry's body in the closet of Devan's workroom when he went to ask Devan to fix the light fixture in his office. Later, when questioned by the police, the handyman had made no attempt to hide the fact that he had murdered the young student, and was planning to kill again. Turned out Devan was a world class nut-case. Blair shuddered again, and felt Jim pat him on the back a little as they entered the room. Blair hung back against the wall as Jim carefully examined the body.

Jim inspected the body of Gerry Taylor, once a young, promising chemistry student. Now, he lay on the cold metal slab under the harsh white lights. Jim's heart clenched as he looked at the kid's face. He was so young, even younger than Blair. Jim stole a glance at his partner, who was trying to keep his distance from the body while staying close enough to watch Jim for Zone Outs. Blair was a bit pale, but seemed to be doing all right. Ellison fought down a tremor as he thought again about how close Blair had been to that psycho. It could've been Sandburg laying on that slab now, battered and bludgeoned to death.

Jim banished the thoughts and threw himself into his task. He continued with his examination, and muttered a soft, triumphant "Yes!" as he found what he was looking for. There was a narrow, deep gash at the base of Gerry's skull, in the back. The mark left by the claw of a hammer. It was the same mark, in the same place as on the other three victims. Devan was going down for a long, long time. Jim turned, and told Blair his discovery, smiling a little as the young man punched his shoulder, praising him. They walked out of the autopsy room and along the wall of morgue drawers, ready to head back to the office. Just then, Ellison's cell phone chirped.

"Ellison," he said, flipping the phone open.

"Jim!" It was Simon.

In the back of his mind, Jim heard the sound of Blair's cell phone ringing. The detective glanced back as the young man flipped his phone open. Jim held one hand over his ear and moved down the hall away form Blair, so they could both concentrate on their conversations. "Hi Simon, I've got news...," Jim started to tell the captain that they had just solved the three previously unsolved murders, but Banks cut him off.

"Jim, Devan's escaped," Simon said quickly. "He got out about an hour ago. We've got about 30 uniforms on their way to the campus right now, to watch for him. The psychologist seems to think he'll try it again."

"Ohhh shit...," Jim replied. He closed his eyes in pain at the thought of more young victims. "Do they have any leads yet, Simon?"

"Not yet," Simon replied. "But I'll keep you posted. Where's Sandburg?" The edge of worry was clearly evident in the Captain's voice.

"He's here with me, Simon. Don't worry," Jim smiled a little at Simon's concern for his partner. He'd have to tell Blair that the gruff Captain had been worried about him. Blair would be flattered, if he believed Jim.

"Hey, Jim?" Simon said, "Maybe you shouldn't tell Sandburg about this just yet. I mean, we'll hopefully have the bastard back in custody within the hour. There's no need to worry the kid needlessly."

Jim grinned. "I dunno, sir. I think Blair might be a little offended if we kept him in the dark, don't you?" Jim winced inwardly at the memory of the last time he'd tried to keep bad news away form his partner. It had led to one of the worst fights they'd ever had.

"Well, it's up to you Jim," Simon answered. "I want the two of you to lay low at your apartment for now. Be careful, OK? We really have no clue as to what Devan will do."

"Will do, sir. Keep me posted!" Jim hung up the phone, and started back toward where he'd left Blair. "Blair I...," Jim's voice stopped dead when he saw Blair's face. The kid was as white as a sheet, leaning back against the morgue drawers, breath coming in harsh gasps. Jim recognized a panic attack immediately, and quickly closed the distance between himself and his frightened partner. "Blair...Blair, what is it?" Jim asked.

Blair turned his eyes to meet Jim's, his face a study in terror. Limply, he held up his hand to display his cell phone, still open. "It was him," Blair whispered hollowly. "It was Devan, Jim.... He's out...," The phone dropped from Blair's limp hand to smash to pieces on the floor, as the young man sank back against the morgue lockers.

"I know, Blair. Simon just called me." Jim looked at the remains of the cell phone. "What did he say to you?" Jim asked quietly as Blair slowly sank down onto the floor, pulling into himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his drawn-up legs. Jim knelt beside him. He reached out to touch Blair's arm, but drew back when the young man flinched at his touch. Ellison waited silently, listening to Blair's racing heart. He waited for Blair to talk to him. Jim knew from past experience with trauma victims that too much pressure to make Blair open up to him now would only result in the young man pulling further into himself, away from Jim. The detective just waited, arms aching to reach out and comfort his Guide, the haunted look in Blair's wide eyes tearing him apart.

After a long moment Blair's eyes flickered toward Jim for an instant, then resumed their glassy stare into space. "He's coming for me, Jim," he whispered. Blair shuddered, and began to rock a bit, looking helplessly up at the ceiling. "He's going to kill me."

Jim was shaking his head, "No Blair. We've got him covered. There are cops everywhere out there." Jim tried to get Blair to look at him, without success.

Blair shook his head. "Cops can't stop him," he whimpered. "He's gotten past cops before." Blair laid his forehead down on his folded arms, his voice muffled as he continued. "He said it will be slow, Jim.... He'll kill me slowly...," Blair's voice trailed off as he continued to rock, hugging himself.

Jim moved closer, careful not to spook his young friend, and gently placed his hand on Blair's shoulder, feeling the tremors through the T-shirt he wore. "Blair, there's no way I'm going to let that happen." Jim paused as Blair took a deep, shuddering breath without raising his head. "Listen to me, Sandburg," Jim continued, "Even if he does manage to get past the uniforms, I'm gonna stay with you constantly until he's caught." Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "If he wants to hurt you, Blair, then he's got to get through ME first," Jim took hold of Blair's upper arms and gently turned the young man to face him. He met Blair's eyes with his own as he added, "And he WON'T... get... through... me." Jim set his jaw in determination, showing Blair that he meant what he said.

Blair looked into Jim's eyes, his fear warring with his need, his desire to believe him. After a moment Blair began to shake. Then he crumbled, lunging into Jim and wrapping his arms around the detective's body. Blair was a drowning man; Jim was the only solid thing left to cling to.

Jim gently enfolded Blair into his embrace, feeling his own throat tighten as his young friend buried his face in Jim's shoulder, fingers clutching spasmodically at the detective's jacket. He rocked the frightened young man for a few minutes, just holding him. Then he began to speak, keeping his voice low. "I won't let him hurt you," Jim vowed quietly, forcing his voice not to shake as he held his wrecked partner in his arms. "Blair, I'm a cop. It's my job to stop people like Devan." Jim pulled back for a moment and cupped Blair's face in his hands, looking deeply into the frightened blue eyes. "But that's not all I am. I'm also a Sentinel, and you're my Guide. You're my partner...," Jim paused to take a deep breath, never taking his eyes off Blair's. "You're my friend... and... I love you."
Jim pulled Blair's face forward, and brushed his lips very gently across Blair's. Then, before Blair could respond Jim pulled him into his arms again, pressing the young man's head against his shoulder, hand gently caressing the curl-covered scalp. When Jim began to speak again, his voice was soft, and full of love. "I don't know exactly what that means to you, Blair. But I know what it means to me," Jim lowered his head to whisper into Blair's ear as the young man tightened his arms around Jim. "It means that I'm here for you. That I will always be around if you need me." Jim swallowed hard before adding, "It means that I will fight with my last breath to protect you." He closed his eyes as he heard and felt Blair begin to cry softly at his words. Jim smiled; the tears were a good sign. They meant that Blair was beginning to understand just how precious he was to Jim. How much he was cared for. How much Jim loved him.

Blair clung to Jim, feeling the big, strong arms around him, keeping him safe, protecting him, loving him. He wanted to talk to Jim, to tell him how he felt, to tell him how much he cared about the detective. His throat wouldn't let him speak at that moment, though. So he just snuggled deeper into his friend's embrace, trying to let his body do the talking. *I love you, Jim*, he willed his arms to say as he tightened them around Jim's middle. *Please, let me love you....,*

"It's true," Jim said softly, brushing his lips across the top of Blair's head. "I'm your Blessed Protector, according to you," Jim gently tilted Blair's head back to look at his face. "That's not a responsibility I take lightly, Sandburg." Jim closed his eyes, and gently pressed his lips to Blair's.

Blair closed his eyes, letting Jim's loving words flow over him like a warm shower, losing himself in Jim's lips, all thoughts of Devan's threat fading like a bad dream. He moved his hands up Jim's back to press against the back of his head, drawing Jim's mouth down tighter against his own. He let his lips part as Jim's tongue slipped into his mouth, teasing the ridge of Blair's teeth, curling around his tongue. Blair explored Jim's mouth with his own tongue, teasing the smooth roof of Jim's mouth, sealing his lips over Jim's.

Jim gasped a little as Blair's tongue stroked the roof of his mouth, feeling himself becoming aroused. He had no idea how far this was going to go, but he relaxed and let it happen, keeping one ear open to hear if anyone approached. Jim brought his hand up and took hold of Blair's shirt, slowly tugging it out of his jeans. He kept one hand on Blair's back and gently lowered him to the floor, then laid on his side beside him. He never let his lips leave Blair's for a moment as he pushed Blair's shirt up, baring the young man's stomach and chest. He finished up one more kiss, then lowered his head to gently run his tongue over Blair's nipples. He smiled as Blair moaned, and arched a bit, pressing his chest against Jim's face. Jim continued to nibble and swirl his tongue over the little brown nubs, feeling them hardening under his lips.

Jim let his hand slowly drift down, fingertips following the path of dark hair to Blair's stomach. He ran his tongue roughly over Blair's nipple, and at the same time stroked his fingertips over the warm flatness of his friend's belly, feeling the muscles flutter at his touch. Blair's whole body shuddered as Jim let his fingertips dance in a playful little circle around his navel, index finger gently teasing the rim of the little hollow, tugging lightly at the soft hair.

Blair arched against Jim's hand as the detective fondled his stomach. He gasped as Jim began to tug at the soft, fine hairs surrounding his navel, following the path downward. He reached down to try and unbutton Jim's shirt, but the actions of Jim's hands and tongue were making him clumsy. Finally, Blair just grabbed either side of the shirt and yanked, hearing little clicks as the buttons scattered and bounced on the cold linoleum floor. The sound made Blair's mind jump for an instant. Good Lord, were they crazy? They were in a public place, for crying out loud! What if someone discovered them? But these thoughts were quickly dismissed as Jim bowed his head and began to run his tongue over the hard muscles of Blair's abdomen, right below his navel. "Ohhhh Jimmmm," he moaned, voice raspy with arousal. He ground his hips up against Jim's chest as the detective continued to lick and nibble at his skin.

Jim tasted Blair's body, savoring the fine sheen of sweat that came out beneath his touch, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Blair's pheromones. He brushed his lips in a feather-light path over Blair's stomach, following the path upward toward his chest. As he took a nipple lightly between his teeth, Blair's hand suddenly grabbed him by the ear and dragged him upward. Jim fought down a giggle as his Guide's tugging became more persistent. "OK, Chief, OK... I'm coming...," he grinned down at Blair as the young man snickered.

"I'll bet you are," Blair said, in a strangled voice. He raised his head to lock his lips over Jim's in a rough, almost violent kiss. One hand stayed on the back of Jim's head, holding the detective's mouth against his own, the other hand ran down the smooth, hairless expanse of Jim's chest. Blair heard and felt the big man moan as his fingers brushed over the tanned nipples and hard pecs. In a rush of arousal-driven strength, Blair kicked out and managed to flip them both over, pinning Jim under him. Amazingly, he accomplished this feat without breaking the kiss, and wondered absently if Jim was impressed.

Jim was startled as he suddenly found himself on his back, the coldness of the linoleum seeping through his shirt, Blair's weight pinning him down. Well, not really, Jim reasoned. He could easily get out from under his smaller partner if he wanted to. But he didn't have any desire to escape at that moment, especially when Blair began to slide down Jim's body, kissing a trail down his chest. Jim gasped as Blair took one of his nipples between his lips and began sucking, at the same time pinching and tweaking the other between his fingers. The detective felt his arousal pressing against his jeans with increasing force as the assault from Blair's mouth continued. He could feel Blair's similar condition, the hardness of the young man's erection boring a hole into Jim's thigh. This was rapidly getting out of hand....

Blair kissed a path down Jim's hard, hairless torso, trailing his tongue gently over the washboard muscles of the flat, broad stomach. He let his tongue dip into the shallow little pit of Jim's navel, tasting the sweat that pooled there, then let his tongue continue its path downward. Jim's erection was about to bust through his jeans, Blair noticed, and he reached a hand down to pop the button if the detective's fly open. He was just easing the zipper down, when suddenly Jim froze, grabbing Blair's hand in his. "Jim?" Blair asked huskily. Was he Zoning?

"Shhhh!!!!" Jim hushed, laying a hand over Blair's lips. His Sentinel ears strained, and his heart nearly stopped as he heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps. He looked down at Blair in horror. Both of them were in such a state, between the arousal and their clothes half ripped off.... He quickly scrambled to his feet, wincing as his painful erection bumped Blair's chest. He pulled his young partner to his feet, whispering "Someone's coming!!" He ignored the wiseass smirk Blair gave him. Jim looked around desperately for a place to hide as the footsteps came closer. A closet, a bathroom... anything.

"Jim!" Blair hissed from behind him. Jim turned, and stared.

"No way, Chief!" he hissed.

"You have a better idea?" Blair asked, hands on his hips, trying not to smile. This had to be one of the craziest things he'd ever do.

Bill Henriksen walked slowly down the hall, pushing his broom ahead of him. He glanced nervously at the rows of morgue lockers as he swept the floor. This was his least favorite place in the building, the hall where they stowed the stiffs. Bill had been very leery of taking on the job as custodian of this place at first. Over time, the fears had dwindled, for the most part. But this one hallway always gave him the creeps. Just to know that behind each of those metal doors, there was a..... Henriksen's eyes were drawn to the floor. "What the..." he said softly, kneeling. A cell phone, in pieces, and a handful of shirt buttons lay on the floor at the foot of one of the banks of morgue lockers. Henriksen collected the debris and stood up, wondering where it had come from. He stuffed everything into one of the bulky pockets of his overalls before taking up the broom and continuing toward the autopsy room.

*Thump!*

Henriksen whirled. What was that? He'd distinctly heard a muffled sound, the sound of something soft hitting metal. He scanned the hallway, heart thundering in his chest, but saw no sign of anything that would produce such a sound. The custodian sighed, chalking it up to nerves, and moved down the hallway and around the corner into the autopsy room.

"Owww," Blair hissed, rubbing his scalp. He'd just slammed his head against the metal roof of the morgue drawer. He and Jim were laying inside one of the pull-out morgue drawers, waiting for whoever it was out there to go away. Blair laid down on Jim's chest and sighed. It wasn't that bad really, the tightness of their hiding place forced them to squeeze their bodies tightly together. Blair could tell by the rod of iron still jabbing into his thigh that Jim didn't find the situation completely unpleasant, either. Suddenly, Blair had the most evil idea...

Jim sighed, reaching up to run a soothing hand over the back of Blair's head. That had to hurt, he reasoned. His Sentinel ears were trained on the person in the hallway. The soft swishing that accompanied the footsteps told Jim that it was the janitor, with a push-broom. That was good, he thought. That meant the guy would probably just pass through briefly and then leave. Then he and Blair could get the hell out of this metal coffin. Jim was beginning to feel claustrophobic, and was thankful for the comfort of Blair's body against his. He felt Blair shift, and was about to tell the young man to keep still, when there was an unmistakable sound...

*ZIIIIIPP!!*

"Blair, what do you think you're doing?" Jim hissed in alarm. Blair had unzipped Ellison's jeans, and was now slipping his fingers through the opening of Jim's boxers.

Blair giggled softly. "Take a wild guess, Jim." Blair slowly slipped backwards, down along Jim's body, feeling his way along in the dark.

Jim gasped as Blair's tongue touched his erection. "Sandburg!" he growled through clenched teeth. "Sandburg, I swear...,"

""Shhhh!" Blair hissed back, giggling. "He'll hear you, Jim!" Then he put his mouth to better use, feeling Jim writhe beneath him.

"Ohhhhh my Gawwwwd!" Jim groaned. Blair ran his tongue over him, teasing and tasting every centimeter of Jim's throbbing arousal. Almost against his will, Jim reached down to cup the back of Blair's head, pushing him down closer to his target. Jim closed his eyes as his hips began to thrust against Blair.

Blair took Jim into his mouth, and tried to deep throat him. But he gave that up quick when he nearly gagged himself, Jim was just too long. Blair contented himself with focusing his attention on the end of Jim's cock, running his tongue over the head, feeling the pulsation as Jim got ready to cum.

Jim pressed his hand over his mouth in alarm as he neared his climax. He could hear the footsteps right outside their morgue drawer again. The custodian was on his way back out. *Oh, shit....not now not now not now not...* Jim couldn't help himself. He came, and threw back his head, bellowing loudly in ectasy. "OOOHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!"

"AAUUUUUUUGH!!!"

Henriksen's scream echoed through the morgue as he dropped his broom and ran, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the wailing ghost that had taken up residence in the morgue locker. Maybe that job cleaning up after the elephants at the circus was still available....

Henriksen's footsteps faded, followed by the sound of the morgue's door opening and slamming shut. Everything was still in the hallway for a minute or two. Then, slowly, carefully, one of the morgue locker doors swung open. There was the sound of a morgue drawer sliding out, and soon two heads appeared from within the dark cavity. Blair and Jim were still lying there face to face, arms entwined around each other, looking in opposite directions up and down the hallway. Seeing that the coast was clear, they looked at each other and promptly burst into loud laughter. Blair collapsed against Jim's chest, helpless with mirth as he imagined that poor janitor's face. Jim wrapped his arms around his partner-turned-lover, chest heaving with laughter mixed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. As they slowly got themselves under control, Jim reached up to brush Blair's sweaty hair back from his face.

"Was it good for you?" Jim asked. This sent them both off into giggles again. Jim recovered first, and slid out from under Blair to stand on the linoleum floor. He quickly did up his pants and tucked in the remains of his shirt. Then he reached into the drawer and lifted Blair out, smiling as the young man squeezed his arms around Jim's neck. Jim set him down, and Blair began to tuck his shirt in and smooth his wildly disheveled curls. He smiled up at Jim as the detective pushed the morgue drawer back in and closed the door.

"Well... that was an adventure," Blair said, grinning as Jim leaned down to kiss him. He snuggled against the big man as Jim draped an arm around his shoulders and headed toward the exit. "Can we go home, now? I'm dead tired." Blair laughed as Jim started to chuckle. Just then, Jim's cell phone rang.

"Ellison, " Jim said, still giggling.

"What's so funny?" Simon's voice asked, gruffly.

"Nothing Captain... Sandburg just told me a joke...it was dead funny," he winked as Blair grabbed his sides and collapsed against the wall, laughing silently.

"Oh," Simon said. He didn't ask what the joke was. Any humor of Sandburg's was sure to be a little too... well... Sandburg for him. "I just wanted to let you know Jim, that it's over. They've got Devan in custody again."

Jim smiled and told Blair the news. The young man sighed in relief. "That's great, Simon," Jim replied. "Tell the men, nice job!" Ellison shut off the phone, and put his arm around Blair again as they left the morgue. "You see?" he said to his Guide. "I told you everything would be fine." He unlocked the door of the Ford for Blair, and went around to climb in the driver's side.

Blair buckled himself in, then leaned over for a kiss as Ellison did the same. "Thanks, Jim," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you before...," he stopped as Jim quieted him with another kiss.

"Nevermind about that, Chief." Jim said softly. "If you hadn't needed...comforting... we might not have realized just where this relationship was going, right?" Jim arched his eyebrows questioningly at his young lover.

Blair thought about it, then smiled. "You're right, Jim." he said.

Jim started the Ford and headed home, turning to grin at his partner, his Guide, his lover, his friend. "I'm always right, Chief!" he teased.

Blair rolled his eyes. "Of corpse you are!"

There was a lot of laughter on the ride back to the loft.

THE END