Disclaimer: Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely for the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. No profit is being made from the posting of this story.

Acknowledgments: I would like to give my undying thanks to my betas: Annie and Bobbie. Many extra thanks to Annie who suggested the general idea for this plot, and to Becky for her transcripts.

Rating: NC-17/FRAO

Category: Drama, Episode Related

Warnings: Explicit m/m

Summary: Jim and Blair go on their first mission together: a rescue attempt in the jungles of Peru.

Blair stood naked in front of the mirror, brushing his fingertips lightly across the bare skin of his chest. His nipples stood out darkly, surrounded by the pale skin, and he couldn't help thinking how odd it looked. He let his hand drift lower, down across an abdomen that used to sport an arrow-line of hair to his navel and beyond, to his groin. He stared at his penis and balls, no longer accentuated by the springy, dark curls of pubic hair.

"Here, let me." Jim walked up behind Blair and wrapped his arms around his Guide, letting one hand brush the erect nipples, while the other stroked the length of his flaccid cock. "Still not used to the transformation?"

Blair shook his head. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. It's so... so weird. Answer me something -" He turned his head to look at Jim directly. "If Sentinels have Guides to help them control their senses, why rid them of body hair? Shouldn't the Guide be able to help the Sentinel control his sense of touch?"

Jim pressed a kiss against Blair's temple before answering. "Two reasons, I guess," he began. "One, because a Sentinel doesn't want to have to control himself around his Guide; and two, because it sets Guides apart as special. Anyone can see that you're a Guide."

"Anyone who sees me naked," Blair countered, "which, I hope, won't be anyone but you."

"You never know." Jim shrugged. "Sometimes the need to bond strikes hard and there isn't any privacy. People pay no more attention to a Sentinel fucking his Guide in public than they do to a mother nursing her child."

"O-Oh... yeah." It was another consequence of being a Guide that Blair had blacked out of his conscious memory.

"Don't worry about it." Jim turned Blair to face him and stared down into the depths of apprehensive blue eyes. "If it happens, it won't be a casual thing. I'll go out of my way to find us shelter from prying eyes. So, are you about ready to leave? Our plane takes off in three hours and we need to get to the airport."

"Uh, sure. I just need to get dressed." Blair disengaged himself from Jim's embrace and walked over to the closet. "Should I wear the uniform?" he asked, looking through his selection of clothes.

"Nah... You can wear whatever you like. Jeans and flannel would be fine, if that's what you're comfortable in," Jim replied. "You'll only need to wear the uniform when we're on duty."

"That's a relief." Blair smiled and picked out a pair of worn, comfortable jeans and a blue Henley shirt that he layered with a blue-plaid flannel over-shirt. He gathered his other clothes from the closet and began to fold them into his suitcase. He was grateful that he wasn't going to have to wear the revealing jumpsuit uniform during the flight to Georgia. Leaving Cascade was going to be hard enough.

Blair was used to moving. He'd done it often as a child when his flower-child mother decided to pick up and leave. That hadn't made it any easier, though. Blair had hated changing schools and having to always make new friends. While the experience had garnered him an interest in people and cultures that Blair eventually turned into a degree in anthropology, it didn't ease the pain of pulling up roots. Cascade had been his home for the past eight years - perhaps the longest time he'd ever spent in one place. And Maya was here...

He put the thought of his ex- fiancée out of his mind and concentrated on his packing. "What about the rest of the stuff?" he asked, looking at the boxes of books and artifacts they'd collected from his old apartment.

"I've arranged to have everything packed and shipped," Jim told him. "Don't worry about it. It should all arrive in Georgia in a few days. Just take what you really need for now."

Blair dug around in the boxes for the latest anthropological journal to read on the plane and stuffed it in his backpack, along with his other essentials, then picked up his suitcase and sat it next to the door. "I guess I'm ready."

Jim walked over and grasped his Guide's shoulders, smiling encouragingly. "You don't need to be worried about anything," he said softly. "You're going to be a great Guide."

Nodding, Blair took a deep breath and picked up his suitcase, opening the door and stepping out into the hall. "Let's get this show on the road."

"You said it, Chief."

+++++

When the boarding call came, Jim and Blair were the first to enter the plane. Blair barreled through first class, heading for coach, as he asked, "What are our seat numbers?"

Jim reached out to halt his Guide's progress. "Here."

"Here? Where here?" Blair asked, confused.

"Right here," Jim explained, tossing his carryon into the overhead locker.

"But this is the first class section!" Blair exclaimed. "I can't afford..."

"You don't have to afford anything, anymore," Jim reminded him. "You're a Guide. You go first class automatically." He took Blair's backpack and shoved it into the generous locker next to his overnight bag, and then slipped into the window seat. "Sit anywhere you like. We've got the place to ourselves today."

Blair slid into the seat next to Jim and looked around. "Did you arrange that, too?"

"Nope. Just got lucky." Jim grinned at the stunned Guide. "Get used to it. You're a celebrity now. A bonded Guide is as rare as a Sentinel, so that puts us on an even footing. Anything you want, you ask for, got it?"

The flight attendant approached and smiled at the two men. "Would either of you gentlemen like a drink?"

"A beer would be great," Blair replied, looking at Jim who nodded and grinned.

"Make that two." Jim clasped Blair's hand and gave it a squeeze. "See? Wasn't that easy?"

The attendant brought the beers and a tray of assorted snacks. Blair took a sip of his drink and grinned. "I think this part might be fairly easy to get used to."

"Just don't get carried away." Jim chuckled and reached over to ruffle the mane of mahogany curls.

"Hey, man, not the hair!" Blair protested with a laugh, knocking Jim's hand away.

+++++

The flight was uneventful. Both Sentinel and Guide had dozed and needed to be awakened to fasten their seatbelts for landing.

"This is it," Jim said, gathering their bags from the overhead as soon as the plane had taxied to a stop. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Blair said, following behind the Sentinel.

The weather was much warmer than Cascade, the air heavy with humidity as they walked out of the airport to the lot where Jim had parked his jeep. Blair peeled off the flannel shirt he'd been wearing and stuffed it in his backpack before hopping into the passenger seat next to Jim. The Sentinel started the engine and turned out of the lot, heading for the highway that would take them to the base at Fort Benning.

"Is it always this warm?" Blair asked, watching with interest as the scenery rushed past.

"Not always," Jim replied, "but more often than Cascade. And you'll have to adapt to the humidity."

Blair was already unbuttoning the neckline of his Henley. "Thank goodness for air conditioning!" he said with a chuckle. "Then again, I lived in South America for eighteen months. I'll get used to it."

+++++

Base housing wasn't the most attractive Blair had ever seen, but the houses looked neat and reasonably roomy.

"This is Officer's Row," Jim explained. "Things are more comfortable here than at the barracks."

"I can imagine," Blair replied, watching the homes pass by.

Jim continued down the street, finally stopping in front of a white clapboard, single storey house with, of all things, a white picket fence. "This is it." He jumped out of the jeep, grabbing their luggage from the back as Blair emerged and stood in front of the gate. "Go on in," he urged, waiting for Blair to open the clasp on the gate and walk through.

Taking his suitcase from the Sentinel, Blair made his way up to the small front porch and waited for Jim to unlock the door.

Jim pushed the door open and set his suitcase inside. "Wait! Wait a second," he cautioned Blair, taking the Guide's suitcase and setting it inside next to his own.

"Why?" Blair looked puzzled as Jim came back outside.

"Because," Jim said, scooping the startled Guide up into his arms. "I want to carry you over the threshold."

"What the fuck?" Blair struggled to be put down as soon as they were inside. "What's gotten into you, Jim? We're not married!"

"Might as well be," Jim answered. "The Sentinel-Guide bond is far stronger than most marriages. Did you know that Sentinels and Guides are allowed to legally marry, even if they're a same-sex couple?"

"Yeah, we studied that at Rainier," Blair said. "But most pairs don't."

"That's because most pairs don't fall in love," Jim explained. "I-I don't know what it is about you, Blair. But when you're near, my senses tingle. It's so subtle that it's hard to define, but it's as though I can see things more clearly; hear, smell, touch, and taste with more sensitivity. I just feel good."

"Same here," Blair admitted. "I've been thinking about that, you know; how we seemed to click right from the moment we met, and I've got a theory."

"What would that be?" Jim asked, curious about the answer.

"Pheromones." Blair grinned at the blank look on Jim's face. "I think we have compatible pheromones. You know, the biological chemical that's used by animals as a sexual attractant."

"I know what pheromones are, Professor," Jim said with cocky smile. "And maybe you're right. But to be honest, I don't give a fuck. What matters is what I feel for you, and that's love."

Blair slipped his arm around Jim's elbow and looked up, batting his eyelashes in mimicry of a southern belle. "How 'bout y'all show me around our new home?" he said with an affected southern drawl.

"Right this way," Jim said, chuckling. "This is the living room..." Turning to his right, he indicated a modest kitchenette. "This is the kitchen." He led the way into a short hallway. "The bathroom is straight ahead, and we have bedrooms on either side." Turning to his left, he led the way into the smaller of the two bedrooms, which was full of boxes stacked in neat rows and volumes of books on the art of war lining the shelves. "I thought maybe we could remodel this room into an office for you."

"I need an office?" Blair turned a surprised grin on the Sentinel.

"You might, you never know," Jim countered. "In any event, you need a place to set up your computer and do whatever research you may need to do. And, you'll have lot of studying to do as well."

"I will?"

"You're going to need to brush up on military protocol, and you're going to have to learn how to handle a gun."

Blair raised his hands, palms out. "Oh, no... Not guns, man. No way. I'm a pacifist."

"You're my Guide, and I'm an Army Ranger," Jim pointed out. "That means you need to know how to handle weapons. You'll need to be certified within the next thirty days."

"Well, if I must," Blair said, sounding dejected.

Taking his Guide by the shoulders, Jim turned Blair around to face the final door in the small home. "This is our bedroom," he said, changing the subject.

Blair followed Jim into the comfortable room that was nearly filled by a king-sized bed, a dresser, a single chair, and a large closet.

"Sorry, but this closet is already full," Jim apologized. "I figure that you can have the one in the spare room, if you don't mind the inconvenience."

Blair sat on the bed and bounced on the mattress. "No, I don't mind," he replied. "Comfortable." He bounced a bit more, then got up and wandered back into the living room.

His attention was drawn to a number of framed photographs sitting on the fireplace mantel. They featured Jim and another man, both smiling in comradely friendship. He picked one up to study it. "Who is this?" he asked, indicating all the photographs of Jim and the other man.

"That's Paul. He was my Guide before you," Jim explained, coming to stand next to Blair.

"He looks like a good man," Blair said, tilting his head to glance up at Jim's somber face. "Why isn't he still your Guide?"

"He died." Jim's statement was cold and flat.

"I'm sorry." Blair frowned, his face softening with empathy for his Sentinel. "How did it happen?"

Jim took the picture from Blair's hands and set it back up on the mantel. "He was killed by a roadside bomb in Beirut three weeks ago."

"Shit! Only three weeks? What the hell were you thinking, getting a replacement Guide so soon? You haven't had any fucking time to grieve yet, man!"

"It wasn't my choice," Jim answered bitterly. "The Army insisted I have a Guide, or they were going to put me on desk duty. I would have gone crazy within a week."

"Did you love him?" Blair asked softly, glancing back at the row of photos showing smiling faces.

"He was my best friend, my comrade, a brother-in-arms," Jim explained. "I would have given my own life to save his, but... I didn't love him. Not the way I love you. He was like a brother to me. Closer than my real brother." He reached out to clasp Blair's upper arms, looking intently into the wide, blue eyes. "I cried, I grieved, I said my good-byes and I don't have any regrets, except that it's a shame such a good man had to die. But if he hadn't... I wouldn't have found you. God, Blair... if anything ever happened to you..."

"You won't let it," Blair said with conviction. "I'm not going to die on you and leave you alone again," he promised.

"You'd better not!" Jim started to drag Blair across the living room, heading toward the back of the house.

"What are you doing?" Blair didn't fight his Sentinel's strong grip, following behind the determined man.

Jim steered them past the kitchen and into the hall, turning right into their bedroom. "Strip!" He pushed Blair toward the bed and watched as his Guide stumbled onto the mattress.

"Jim?" Blair looked up at the Sentinel and saw the haunted, empty look in his eyes. Immediately, he began to undress, sensing the man's need to connect to his current Guide in the wake of the loss of his former one.

Jim also stripped, climbing onto the bed and straddling his naked Guide. "On your knees!" he snapped. "Bend over!"

Blair did as he was ordered, biting his lip to hold back a cry as Jim entered him without lube and began to pound into him so hard that he drove Blair flat onto the mattress. Sounds came from above him - wailing cries that sounded like an animal in pain. Blair's eyes grew moist, and he found himself sobbing into the sheets, unable to withhold the terrible heartache that consumed him.

A short while later, he felt himself filled with the warmth of Jim's completion, and then the heavy body of the Sentinel covered Blair like a blanket. Moments later, Jim rolled off, allowing Blair to breathe deeply. Strong arms wrapped around him, and Blair heard the whisper-soft plea.

"Forgive me. I'm sorry, Blair. Forgive me. I love you. I love you."

Rolling over to face Jim, Blair reached out to cup a tear-stained cheek. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know about Paul. It's okay. I understand your need to connect, to bond with me, to assure yourself I'm real. Well, I am, and I'm not going anywhere. I love you, too. Whatever you need, whatever you want; it's my pleasure to give it to you."

"I hurt you."

"No..."

"Yes, I did. I smell the blood," Jim insisted.

For the first time since the initial breach of his body, Blair thought about what he was really feeling. "Well, maybe you hurt me a little," he admitted. "But it's only because you didn't take the time to use the lube. It'll be okay."

"I didn't take time to prepare you, either," Jim said, still angry with himself for the way he had treated Blair. "You're still practically a virgin, and I didn't take that into account."

"You are grieving, my Sentinel," Blair said, stroking away the tears on Jim's cheek with his thumb. "It's not your fault."

"I want to make it up to you." Jim's hands gently caressed Blair's shoulders, dusting across peaked nipples and sending a shiver of desire down his Guide's spine. Leaning in, he gently captured Blair's lips with his mouth, deepening the kiss as he pulled the pliant body close.

All the melancholy emotions surrounding their bonding evaporated as Jim made love to his Guide, finally slipping low to take the leaking cock into his mouth. Blair closed his eyes, concentrating all his attention on the talented lips that sucked and laved his aching manhood until he could hold back no longer. With a cry of pure delight, he emptied himself down Jim's throat, collapsing in a warm heap on the bed. Jim curled around him, and the two men slept.

+++++

"Up and at 'em!" Jim called the next morning. "Breakfast will be ready in five."

A muffled mumble came from the bedroom, making Jim grin. He'd only been with his new Guide for three days, and already he was coming to realize that Blair was not a morning person.

"Better hurry up, or there won't be time for breakfast," he called again.

Blair appeared from the hallway, naked, except for the open robe he'd thrown on, his hair rumpled, and his eyes still half closed. "Just coffee for me," he mumbled, coming to sit at the small kitchen table.

Jim set a steaming mug in front of his Guide, and went back to preparing the bacon and eggs. When breakfast was ready, he set a plate in front of Blair, despite the younger man's protests. "Eat up. We're going to have a big day," he said, shoveling the eggs into his mouth.

Blair picked at his food, gaining more interest as he tasted the eggs. "These are good!"

"Didn't think I could cook, did you?" Jim grinned at the disheveled man sitting across from him. "Hurry up and finish. We need to take a shower and get dressed. You'll be wearing the uniform today."

"So we're doing something official?" Blair asked, looking up from his plate.

"We're going to get you registered, get your dog tags, and get your study material. Maybe I'll take you out to the shooting range this afternoon."

"Do we have to start with the guns so soon?" Blair asked, sounding dismayed.

Jim chuckled at his Guide's reluctance to use firearms. "We'll see how the day goes, but it's better if we don't wait too long," he added.

They finished up, putting the dishes in the dishwasher and hurrying to take a shower and get dressed. Forty-five minutes later, they were out the door.

+++++

"Captain Ellison reporting for duty, sir!" Jim stood at attention, saluting his superior officer, while Blair stood just behind and to his left, observing the protocol with interest.

"At ease, Captain." Colonel Oliver looked up from his paperwork. "I see you found yourself a new Guide."

"Yes, sir." Jim waved Blair forward. "Blair Sandburg."

"Welcome to the Army Rangers, Guide Sandburg," Oliver greeted him.

"Thank you, sir," Blair replied quietly, drifting back to his place behind Jim.

"So, Jim, are you ready to go out on assignment again?" Oliver asked.

"We still need to get Blair registered. He hasn't been issued his dog tags yet," Jim explained. "We just got back yesterday. There hasn't been any time for him to get any training."

Oliver eyed Blair appraisingly. "Is he a trained Guide?"

"Yes, sir. He graduated magna cum laude from the Guide Program at Rainier University in Washington State," Jim answered briskly.

"Then he's got enough training for this assignment," Oliver said, pushing some papers toward Jim. "It's an extraction. Seems a Washington State police captain and his son disappeared in Peru. Captain Banks was there for an anti-narcotics conference, according to a Captain Ernesto Sandoval. When the conference was over, Banks and his son were going to do some fishing out on Lake Intacha in eastern Peru. Their helicopter was shot down near the Almaguas Valley. I have the satellite photos of the region." Oliver passed the enlarged picture over to Jim, who studied it, noting the remains of the downed copter at the north end of the valley. "I can't afford to send in a full team at this time," Oliver continued, "but a single Sentinel with his Guide should be able to ascertain if Banks and his son are still alive. If so, it's up to you to bring them home."

"We'd have to leave right away," Jim mused, already feeling the adrenaline pumping from a new field assignment. "Is there any reason to think they might be in danger, if they did survive the crash?"

Oliver looked up at Ellison, his lips pressed together in a grim line. "There have been reports of guerrilla activity in the area," he said. "Not a good place for anyone to be at the moment."

"I'll push Sandburg's registration through this morning, and we can be on a flight out by this afternoon," Jim said, glancing back at Blair and noting that the color had drained from his Guide's face at the news.

"Very well. There'll be a plane waiting to take you to Peru," Oliver said. Then turning back to his paperwork, he barked, "Dismissed."

Jim turned on his heel and hurried out of the office, hustling Blair down the steps and out into the hot Georgia sun. "I wired your information as soon as I knew you'd be coming back with me," he said. "So your dog tags should be waiting for us... here." He turned to a building on their right, trotting up the stairs and holding the door open for Blair.

"Good morning, Captain. What can I do for you?" the man behind the desk greeted Jim.

"Sentinel Ellison here to register Guide Blair Sandburg," he snapped.

"Just a moment, sir." The man went to his computer and with a few clicks of the mouse, printed out a form. "Everything is here. All you need to do is sign."

Jim signed the document and slid it over to Blair for his signature.

"What is this?" Blair asked, skimming through the paper.

"It's just a formal declaration that you're my Guide, with all the rights and privileges that go along with that rank. Sign, so we can get your tags and get out of here."

Blair signed the form and was surprised when he looked up to have Jim slip a chain with his dog tags over his head.

"These will act as your identification," Jim explained. "One has all your pertinent information; the other identifies you as my Guide. Never, and I mean never take these off. You shower with them on, you fuck with them on. Understand?" At Blair's dumbfounded nod, he continued. "With those tags, you're free to roam the base, to go anywhere that I have authorization to go. You outrank more than half the people on this base now, so get used to it."

"Jim? Um...." Blair flapped the tags and shrugged. "Won't they get in the way?"

Jim tugged at the neckline of the tight jumpsuit and dropped the tags inside. When the Spandex fabric snapped back into place, the outline of the tags and chain were clearly visible.

"I've got to get some supplies in order before we leave for Peru," said Jim. "I'll drop you by the house and you can wait for me there."

"Do I need anything?" Blair asked. "I-I mean, if we're going to Peru..."

"Leave the packing to me," Jim answered brusquely. "We're going to need to travel light."

"And I should wear the uniform?" Blair persisted.

Jim scowled, but then his features softened. "Yeah, kid. We're going into the field, into a potentially dangerous situation. I need you to be safe, so you'll wear the uniform." He opened the passenger side door of the jeep and ushered Blair inside. "Take care of your personal needs and get some rest," he said, as they drove back to the house. "I'll pick you up when I'm ready."

+++++

Blair glanced out the window of the military plane that had flown them to Peru. The jungle below was dense, but broken by a river flowing through a small valley. He shivered, not liking heights, even when he was in an enclosed space. It's not that he minded flying; he just didn't appreciate the window seats.

Jim stood up and began to shrug on a parachute. "Time to get moving, Chief."

"Aren't we going to land?" Blair asked. "I don't see any sort of runway down there."

"This is the jungle," Jim explained. "We'll be parachuting in."

"Parachuting?" Blair's face drained of color. "Oh, Jim... no... Please."

"It's the only way in. Come on, get your chute on." Jim picked up the parachute pack and held it up for his Guide. Blair slipped it on with trepidation and watched while Jim made sure it was cinched on tight. Then the Sentinel pulled open the side door of the plane and looked out over the north end of the valley. "Time to jump." He pulled Blair over to the open door. "Just count to three, slowly, and then pull the cord," Jim instructed.

"Easy for you to say," Blair mumbled. "I don't know if I'll have enough sense left to pull the cord."

"You'll do just fine," Jim assured him. "Now go. I'll be right behind you."

Blair took a deep breath, blew it out, and then closed his eyes. Steeling himself for the jump, he inched toward the open door, finally needing a slight shove from behind to get him going.

"Oh... my... God!" he cried as he fell. Fumbling for the ripcord, he opened his chute. As it unfurled and caught the air, it jerked Blair upwards, eliciting a string of curses. "Help! Help me, Jim! Helllllppp! I don't know what I'm doing! I can't do this!"

"Yes, you can," Jim's calm voice sounded off to his right. Blair turned his head to see Jim floating down not far away. "Pull on the left cord," he ordered. "No! Your other left!" he corrected when Blair pulled the wrong one.

Jim watched in horror as Blair began a spiral descent. He was falling too fast, the chute no longer able to catch the air properly. His Guide's cries for help were like a knife in Jim's heart. There was nothing he could do; the situation was out of his control. Blair crashed into the trees and Jim lost sight of him through the foliage. He landed and abandoned his chute, anxious to find Blair and make sure that his Guide was okay.

Blair dangled in a tree about twenty feet up. He was battered from his fall through the branches, but still conscious. Frightened, wanting to get down to the safety of the ground, he grasped the emergency release on the harness and pulled. He fell to the jungle floor, hitting his head and rolling down a shallow embankment. When he came to a stop, he wasn't moving.

Jim ran over, senses wide open to check on Blair's condition. His Guide's heartbeat was strong, but the rhythm was slow, his breathing shallow. Looking around, he decided to make camp in the small clearing where they had landed. Gathering materials for a fire, he soon had a small blaze going. He set up a lean-to tent with a tarp from his pack and carried Blair over to its shelter, near the fire. Sitting on the ground, he cradled Blair's head in his lap, stroking the long locks of hair and picking out the debris tangled in the strands.

Blair moaned and shifted, but didn't open his eyes. Jim's heart still thudded with the near death experience. He couldn't go through losing another guide, not so soon... and not Blair, of all people. They hadn't even known each other for a week yet, and Jim already knew that he wouldn't be able to live without Blair. Tenderly, his need strong but his hands gentle, he peeled off the tight fitting jumpsuit and began to stroke the bare skin of his Guide.

It was almost five minutes before Blair woke up, shifting uncomfortably as he cataloged all the sore spots on his body.

"It's about time," Jim said softly. "I was really worried about you. How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts," Blair groaned, closing his eyes momentarily. And then, as if just realizing, his eyes flew open. "I'm naked! Jim...?"

"I had to check," Jim explained. "I had to know you were okay. I needed... I need to bond."

Blair frowned. "You didn't...?"

"No, Blair; God, no. I wouldn't take you like that. You're hurt. I needed you conscious and consenting," said Jim. "But... I-I thought for a while there that I might lose you, and... and... I couldn't deal with that, not again; not so soon."

"Aw, geez, man... I promised you I wouldn't leave," Blair consoled his Sentinel. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"I need to bond with you. I need to reconnect so that the part of my mind that still doesn't believe can be convinced," Jim said, cupping Blair's testicles in his palm and rubbing his thumb up and down the length of Blair's penis.

"Now?" Blair asked, incredulous. "Here? Can't it wait until after the mission? Until we get home?"

"Here. Now," Jim confirmed. "I can't go further without the bond."

"But we're in the middle of a jungle!" Blair persisted. "Geez, anyone could see!"

"There's no one else around," Jim said calmly. "Please, Blair. I don't want to have to make it an order."

"That bad, huh?" At Jim's nod, Blair sat up slowly, stretching his muscles and assessing the damage, which wasn't much, considering the fall he'd taken. He turned his back toward Jim, kneeling and then lowering his head to the ground, resting on his arms, his ass in the air. "I just hope you remembered to bring lube," he said.

Jim pulled a small tube out of one of the many pockets on his uniform and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his knees. Lubing a finger, he pressed it into his Guide, determined to prepare him properly this time. Blair had already been hurt enough. He worked his finger around inside before gently inserting a second finger and working to stretch the tight muscle of Blair's anus.

Blair groaned and shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Hurry up, would ya?" he complained. "This isn't very comfortable."

"Just another minute," said Jim, trying to insert three fingers, but finding Blair's groans of discomfort more than he cared to deal with. Lubing his cock, he knelt behind his Guide and slowly inserted it into the stretched opening.

"Mmmmmm..." Blair's moan was filled with desire, not pain. Jim took the clue and bent over to press warm kisses along the length of Blair's spine. He reached beneath them to grasp Blair's cock and stroke it to fullness. "Mmmm... feels good," Blair murmured, forgetting about his aches as he fell deeper under the spell of the bond.

Jim resisted the urge to pound into the pliant body and instead thrust slowly, with an even rhythm. Stroking his cock over the hot button of Blair's prostate, he listened to the resultant cries of pleasure as his Guide rocked his hips, sending Jim ever deeper inside the warm cavern. With his free hand, he reached down to pinch and roll a nipple as he tugged on the hard length of Blair's shaft.

"Oh, God, Jim...!" Blair moaned. "Finish me, please!"

Abandoning the nipple, Jim began squeezing Blair's balls, rolling them in his palm and kneading them with his fingers as he pulled on Blair's cock, milking him to the height of his orgasm. With a cry that reverberated through the jungle, Blair came, shooting his come straight down into the brown earth. As his climax roared through him, the muscles in his ass spasmed, clamping down hard on Jim's penis and halting its thrusts. When he was finally empty of seed, Blair relaxed, breathing hard. He found it difficult to remain upright as Jim began pounding into him with controlled force. Jim's climax followed soon after and the two men collapsed to the jungle floor, spent.

Just before passing out, Jim heard a sound and looked up. In the bushes behind their lean-to stood a black jaguar, watching them with golden eyes.

+++++

Jim woke up in a blue jungle - alone. He looked around, panicked when he couldn't see or sense Blair anywhere nearby. The roar of a jaguar took him by surprise. The big cat pounced...

+++++

...and Jim woke up. Disoriented for a brief moment, he shook his head and looked around. The jungle was green, their fire was burning low, and Blair lay curled beneath him, still naked and covered with the remains of their bonding.

He put more wood on the fire, bringing it to a hot blaze before waking Blair.

"Hey, Chief, time to wake up." Jim gently shook his Guide, smiling as Blair shifted and moaned, blinking up at him with owlish eyes.

"W'at hap'ned?" he slurred, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Ow... what the hell? Jim? Aw, shit! I'm filthy!"

"No time to clean up," Jim said, handing Blair a cup of hot soup. "Drink up and then get dressed. We need to get a move on. We've wasted enough time already."

"Jim... something went on while we were sleeping. I felt... something through you. What was it?"

"It's nothing. Eat up," Jim urged, breaking camp and packing up while Blair sipped at the cup.

"It's not 'nothing', Jim," Blair insisted. "I thought I heard a big cat, like a panther or something. What's with that?"

"I thought I saw a panther," Jim admitted. "I just caught it with the corner of my eye, but when I looked, it wasn't there. I don't know... there's something screwy with my senses."

"Screwy? In what way?" Blair asked, intent on his Sentinel as he settled into the role of Jim's Guide.

"They're kind of in and out," Jim explained. "I don't know." He threw his hands in the air.

"Are they more in or more out?" Blair queried.

"More out," Jim admitted. "Look, it could be any number of things. We don't have time to get into this now. We have to see about rescuing Banks and his boy."

Blair wiped himself off with a fistful of leaves and grass, and then pulled the jumpsuit back over his bruises. "Well, let's see... maybe it was the sudden change in air pressure when you parachuted in," he suggested.

"Nah. My senses were fine until I woke up an hour ago," Jim responded.

"Well, then, maybe there's something about being in the jungle. Sentinels were originally born in the jungles, you know."

"Let it go," Jim grumbled. "Just let it go."

Blair scrambled to follow as Jim headed out into the jungle. "We need to study this, Jim. If I'm going to act as your Guide, I have to know how you work, what's going on inside that head of yours."

"I'll tell you what's going on inside my head," Jim growled, stopping and turning on Blair. "I can't stand the thought of losing you. You almost died in that damned parachute jump. You almost died and left me alone again, and all because of my senses... because I'm a Sentinel. Maybe I don't want to be a Sentinel anymore. Maybe I don't want to risk your life."

"Oh, no, Jim." Blair approached and clasped Jim's arm. "Don't say that. Please don't say you want to give up your gift. It's what brought us together, and it's what will keep us together. I'm fine, just a few bruises here and there. C'mon, Jim. We need your senses."

"I can't just turn them off and on like a light switch," Jim grumbled. "Just drop it, Sandburg," he said brusquely. "We have a mission to complete. We'll discuss my future in the military and as a Sentinel when we get home." He headed off, leaving Blair to scramble to follow.

+++++

"Wait here." Jim flung out an arm as they neared a clearing, stopping Blair. "Let me scout this out before you come in."

Blair obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and watched as Jim made his way into what appeared to be a deserted native village. A woman appeared from behind one of the huts and attacked Jim, hitting him in the head with a heavy branch. Blair watched as Jim fell and the woman looked around. Hesitating only briefly, he held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender and walked out of the jungle, into the village.

"It's all right. We're not here to hurt you," he said.

"W-Who, who are you?" the woman asked, not relinquishing her hold on the branch.

"My name is Blair Sandburg, and this is Jim Ellison. He's a Sentinel; I'm his Guide. We're here looking for a missing man," Blair explained.

The woman lowered her weapon. "There are many missing men here," she said, "and women." She held out a hand, which Blair shook. "I'm sorry. My name is Kimberly Ashe. I'm a botanist from UCLA. I'm here to study the effects of man on the disappearing rainforest."

Blair knelt next to Jim and took Jim's face between his palms. "Jim? Come on, man, wake up," he said softly. As Jim's eyes opened and began to focus, Blair explained quickly. "This is Kimberly Ashe. She's a botanist studying the rainforests here. She didn't mean any harm."

"I'm so sorry," Kimberly apologized. "It's just that there are mercenaries in the jungle. Just yesterday they came and took all the adults of the village. They herded them out of here and took them to work in the drug labs. I managed to escape with the children into the jungle."

"And where are the children?" Jim asked, rubbing his head as he sat up.

The woman called out in Quechua, and the sound of many young voices responded. The children came running out of hiding to greet the newcomers.

"Why did you stay here, alone?" Blair asked, smiling as the little ones gathered around.

"The nearest village is a hundred miles west of here, through the mountains," Kimberly explained. "It would have been too hard of a journey on the children."

"Yes, I see," Jim agreed. "So, have you heard anything about a missing American in these parts? The description I have is a black man, six feet, four inches tall with a muscular build. He'd be traveling with his fourteen-year-old son."

Kimberly shook her head. "I haven't seen or heard about anyone like that. I'm sorry." She looked at the Sentinel and Guide. "You two look as though you've had a hard journey. You're welcome to stay here, wash up, get some food and rest."

"We're in a hurry," said Jim, getting up and dusting himself off.

"Just a minute, Jim." Blair tugged on the Sentinel's sleeve. "I could use a good freshening up, if you don't mind, and we could both use a good meal."

"We don't have the time," Jim insisted, scowling at his obstinate Guide.

"Look," said Blair, setting his feet firmly so that he couldn't be budged. "You were sent on this mission, alone, because you're a Sentinel. Well, you've lost your enhanced senses, so your edge in this little war game is gone. I'm your Guide, and I say we need to wash up and rest, and see if we can find a way to get those senses back on-line."

"Maybe I don't want to be back on-line," Jim argued. "Maybe I don't want to risk you anymore."

"Well, you seem damned determined to go through with this rescue business," Blair pointed out. "And I'm sure as hell not leaving you to do it alone. Don't you think it's a bigger risk to do this without your senses?"

Jim sighed, conceding Blair's points. "But we were tasked with a mission," he stated softly. "This man needs to be found."

Just then, one of the children came running up to Kimberly, chattering away in his native tongue. Kimberly looked over at the Sentinel and Guide with wide eyes and recited the child's message. "He says that a strange boy has been spotted just outside of camp. A boy with dark skin."

Minutes later, the young man in question was brought into the village. Jim smiled over at the disheveled boy. "Are you Daryl Banks, Simon Banks' son?"

"Yes, sir," Daryl answered. "They've got my dad!" he said, turning and pointing to the north.

"Whoa, slow down. Who's got your dad?" Jim asked, calming the boy.

"They called themselves the Calvera Lumber Company, but dad and I found out that it's a cover for a cocaine processing lab. They've got dozens of Indians in an underground room, making the drug," Daryl explained.

Jim nodded. "Great. That's good to know. Did you overhear any names, by chance?"

"Yeah. The head guy is Carl Reischer, and his sidekick is a man called Rosario," Daryl said.

Jim nodded. The name of Carl Reischer was well known to the Special Forces, who were often called out to rout out cocaine processing in Central and South America. "Can you show us the layout of the camp?"

Daryl picked up a stick and began to draw in the dirt. "This is the main tent, and this is where they keep their supplies," he said. "This," he marked a spot in the earth, "is the door to the underground room. It's disguised as a stack of old crates."

"Very good." Jim nodded, and then looked up as a young girl approached, speaking in Quechua.

Blair listened to the girl and then turned his attention to Jim. "She asks that if we're going to rescue this boy's father, could we bring hers back as well?"

Jim nodded grimly. "But first, let's get cleaned up and have something to eat.

+++++

Blair was having a hard time pulling the skin-tight Spandex back over his wet body. As he struggled with the fit, Jim looked up from splashing some water on his face.

"What is it?" Blair asked, looking around.

"I thought I heard that panther again," he whispered, looking around. "But I can't see him anywhere. Maybe I'm just going crazy."

"Or maybe not," Blair said. "This panther, maybe it's your animal spirit, sent to guide you."

"You're my Guide," Jim said, his voice clipped. "I don't need any jungle hocus pocus."

"Look, Jim. You need to get your senses back. You can't do this alone without them. When I was studying to become a Guide, we spent an entire week talking about the animal spirits. I found out that mine's a wolf. Maybe yours is the panther. If so, it's trying to tell you something; something important. You should listen."

"And how am I supposed to listen to something that isn't really there?" asked Jim.

"You need to relax and focus," Blair instructed. "Try to picture the panther in your mind."

"Maybe later, Chief," Jim said, patting Blair's shoulder. "Right now, I need to go into the jungle and scout the area."

"I'll come with you," Blair said. "Without your senses, you'll need someone to watch your back."

"No, I'd rather you stay here, with the villagers," Jim said, handing Blair his gun. "Here, I want you to take this -- for protection."

"But what about you?" Blair asked, hesitant to accept the weapon.

"I got these from a hut in the village," Jim said, showing Blair a crossbow with a quiver of arrows and a blowgun with darts. "The darts are tipped with curare," he explained. "It's not enough to be lethal, but it will cause temporary paralysis."

"Jim, be careful," Blair cautioned. "I worry about you without your senses."

"I'll be fine," Jim assured him. "Now, you head back to the village where I know you'll be safe."

Blair watched for a few moments as Jim shouldered his weapons and ran off into the surrounding jungle. With a sigh, he turned back toward the village.

+++++

As Jim ran through the jungle, he heard the unmistakable roar of the big cat and saw a black shadow following him. Ignoring the spirit guide, he continued to run; and as he ran, the foliage around him turned blue. The big cat stopped at the steps of an ancient temple, and then stood up on its hind legs and morphed into the image of a native shaman.

Jim stopped short. "Who are you?"

"The question is: who are you?" the shaman replied enigmatically.

"I don't understand," Jim said, shaking his head.

"That you were brought into the jungle is no accident," the shaman said. "Your sentinel abilities, as is true for all Sentinels, were born in the jungle. You have been brought here to complete the circle."

"So then, why have my abilities been taken away? I thought this was all about protecting my Guide," said Jim, confused and angry.

The shaman smiled knowingly. "It was done to remind you of who you were. You may choose to remain as you are, to reject your gifts and live as an ordinary man, safe from the dangers, safe with your Guide. Or you may choose to go forward, but to do so will require your life and your soul. Are you prepared to make such a journey?"

Jim hesitated. "I-I'm not sure." He turned to find himself standing at the edge of a very high cliff, with water flowing deep in the canyon below. "I'm standing at the edge of a cliff," he told the shaman. "If I go forward, I'll die."

"Yes!" The shaman nodded.

"Okay," Jim said. "I'm ready." He turned back around, but the shaman and the temple were gone, as was the precipitous cliff. A loud noise captured his attention, and his vision honed in on a praying mantis in the grass, yards away from him, chewing on the green blades. Then he picked up the sound of panicked voices from the village.

Shouldering his crossbow and blow pipe, he began to run back through the jungle, stopping only to get some mud to smear on his face and arms for camouflage. When he got back to the village, he found that Blair and Kimberly, along with the children, had all been taken by the mercenaries.

+++++

Jim had made his way from the village to the lumber camp, but needed to find a way in. Hitching a ride on the undercarriage of a truck, he dropped and rolled, then dashed behind some stacked crates. He dialed up his hearing and centered his concentration on Blair's voice. He heard the young Banks boy first.

"So, uh, Blair... Do you think they're going to let us go?"

"I don't know, Daryl," Blair replied. "I wish I could tell you more."

"I-I think my dad might already be dead," Daryl said morosely.

"Hey, man, you can't think like that," Blair said. "You have to stay strong. It's what your dad would want, right?"

Jim took out the guard with a well-placed dart from the blow gun, and then made his way inside the tent where Blair and Daryl were being held.

"Jim!" Blair was delighted to see his Sentinel again. "Oh, man, they took Kimberly and the kids."

"Shhhh!" Jim admonished, untying Blair and Daryl. "Where are they?"

"In the underground drug lab," Blair said. "I think that's where they took Daryl's dad, too."

"All right," said Jim, hustling the two out of the tent, while trying to keep them all hidden. "Make your way to the motor pool and get us a transport out of here. I'm going to go rescue Banks and the others."

Blair and Daryl made their way to the motor pool tent as Jim slipped over to where the munitions were stored. He spent a few precious minutes rigging some C-4 to explode, and then took a couple of grenades with him. Slipping into the hidden underground lab, he immediately spotted the black police captain. Although Banks didn't know who he was, Jim hoped he'd recognize a friend. Using the blowgun, he shot a dart into the canvas bag of cocaine leaves that Banks was carrying.

The distraction made Banks look up. Spotting Jim crouching on the stairs beneath the trap door, he nodded his understanding and swung the bag at the nearest guard, knocking the man down. An all-out fight ensued, with the Indian natives helping to overpower the guards and escape.

Blair was waiting in the truck with the engine running. The Indians piled into the back, along with Banks, who had acquired a gun, and Jim. As they were pulling out, Jim lobbed a grenade at the munitions tent, setting off a huge explosion that distracted most of the guards and destroyed the underground lab. Shots were fired, but they managed to escape unharmed back to the village.

+++++

"Why don't you come with us?" Jim asked Kimberly as they stood in the common area of the village. "I'm going to radio ahead for help; have a team sent down here to take out the stragglers, but until then, it isn't safe for you to be here."

"But what about the Indians?" Kimberly asked. "I can't just leave them here to face this alone. I'm staying."

"Ellison's right," Banks chimed in. "Those men are mean bastards. They're more likely to take out their anger on you, than on the Indians. You can come back when it's safe."

"Oh, no," Blair said, shaking his head. "I think Kimberly will be fine here, if she wants to stay. This place feels protected. You saw your spirit guide here, remember?"

"Come on, Sandburg, give it a rest," Jim grumbled, not happy with the mystical side of his Sentinel abilities.

"No, really," Blair insisted. "I think she ought to come back with us, too. But if she wants to stay, I think she'll be okay."

"I want to stay," Kimberly insisted, smiling at Blair. "Thank you all for your concern, but I have important work here to finish."

Jim sighed. "Well, have it your way. Good luck with your research." Wrapping an arm around Blair's shoulders, he led the way to their extraction point.

+++++

"Once we've had a chance to wash up a bit, I'd like to take you two out to dinner," Simon Banks said as they exited the plane that had brought them home to Georgia. "Just a little gesture of thanks for getting us out of the jungle in one piece."

"We'd like that," Jim said with a grin. "But first, I have some business that needs attending to."

"Meet you at eight?" Simon asked.

Jim nodded. "Sounds great."

The men parted company and Jim began a brisk walk toward Colonel Oliver's office.

"Jim? What do you plan on doing?" Blair asked, hustling to keep up with the longer legged Sentinel.

"I'm planning to do what I should have done the day after we bonded," Jim replied. "I'm quitting the military."

"But you can't just quit!" Blair exclaimed. "Don't you have a contract or something?"

"Sentinels have a clause - they can quit at any time, even though most don't," Jim explained. He marched up the steps and barged into Oliver's office, ignoring the protests of the Colonel's secretary. Walking up to the desk, he slapped his dog tags down in front of the startled officer. "I quit." Reaching over to Blair, he lifted his Guide's dog tags over his head and placed them next to his own. "I won't risk losing another Guide."

Without waiting for Oliver's response, Jim turned on his heel and walked out of the office.

"Now what?" Blair asked, as they got in the jeep to ride back to their home.

"I don't know, Chief. I haven't thought it through quite that far yet," Jim answered. "I guess we'll have to pack up and move again. Any preferences?"

"How about Cascade?" Blair suggested with a grin.

+++++

"So, you decided to quit the Army?" Simon inquired over dinner. "What sparked that decision?"

"I lost my first Guide less than a month ago," Jim explained. "Blair and I, well, we have something special, something even closer than I had with Paul. I'm not willing to risk that for the sake of a job."

Banks nodded in acknowledgment. "What are you going to do now?"

"I haven't thought about it much," Jim admitted. "Blair wants to move back to Cascade." He looked over to his Guide and found Blair grinning at him.

"What?" Jim asked, curious about the Cheshire Cat smile.

Blair shook his head, his smile widening. "Nothing. It's nothing," he replied.

"I think the kid is going to burst if I don't say it," Simon said, breaking the air of expectation. "How would you feel about coming to work for the Cascade Police Department? We could use a good Sentinel-Guide team in our Major Crimes Unit."

"Which just happens to be the one my dad commands," Daryl added, smiling broadly.

"What do you say, Jim? It's the perfect solution!" Blair practically bounced in his seat. "We'll get to go back to Cascade, and you can still serve the public."

"I don't know..." Jim hesitated. "Police work is still dangerous."

"Granted, it is that," Simon replied. "But you'd come in with Detective First Class status. While I can't say that you'd never be in danger, at least it's not as bad as the street cops."

"And it's a lot safer than Special Forces," Blair added.

"Promise me you'll at least think about it?" Simon asked.

Jim pursed his lips and nodded. "All right. I promise I'll think about it."

+++++

Cascade, Washington, a week later:

"Let's go back to the motel," Jim suggested. "I'm getting tired."

"There's just one more place on the list to look at," Blair insisted. "Come on, Jim. Wouldn't it be nice to have our own place, instead of living out of a suitcase?" He reached over to tap the cabbie's shoulder. "852 Prospect, please."

"Yes, sir."

"You're going to like this one, Jim. I just know it." He began reading from the brochure. "'Roomy loft apartment, hardwood floors, fireplace, open kitchen, two bedrooms, one bath, balcony that overlooks bay front, furnished.'"

"And how many flights of stairs do we have to climb to get to this roomy loft apartment?" asked Jim.

"It's located on the third floor, Apartment 307," Blair said. "But there's an elevator and basement storage."

The cab pulled up in front of the building and Jim looked it over. "All right. It's not too bad. Decent looking neighborhood, but I'll have to check it out."

They got out of the cab, tipping the driver and asking him to wait for them, and then went into the building. The old elevator creaked as it ascended to the third floor, making Jim wince.

"Dial back your hearing," Blair suggested. "And don't pre-judge the apartment based on the elevator."

They got off on the third floor and made their way to the end of the hall. Blair reached up over the door, feeling for the key he'd been told would be left there. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, letting Jim enter the apartment first.

Jim stood just inside the door, giving the apartment a quick sensory sweep before entering. He was impressed with the size - more than enough room for the two of them. The furnishings were adequate and the kitchen well stocked with cookware and accessories. "This could be your study," he said, looking into the small, downstairs bedroom.

"Yeah, it's perfect," Blair agreed. "There are even windows that look out into the main room, so I can keep an eye on you if I need to." Jim took a playful slap at the back of Blair's head for the comment. "Hey, man, watch the hair!" Blair protested, laughing.

They made their way upstairs. Jim looked around the open bedroom, separated from the floor below only by iron railings that allowed the occupants to see the apartment below.

"Is this going to bother you, with your sensitivity to heights?" Jim asked.

Blair shrugged. "I don't think so. Especially not if you're around."

"I like it." Jim leaned against the railing to look down on the main floor. "I've got some money to invest, thanks to some back pay the Army owes me," he said. "How about I make a down payment and we buy the place, instead of renting?"

"You mean it?" Blair's face lit up with delight. "That means we're staying here for a long time."

"That's the plan," Jim agreed. "What do you say? Do you like the place?"

"Love it! And we haven't even checked out the view yet!" Blair went running down the stairs, and threw open the balcony doors. "Jim! There's even a barbeque out here!"

"That settles it," Jim said with a laugh as he came up behind Blair. "We'll get the paperwork started tomorrow."

+++++

"It's good to see you again, Jim, Blair!" Simon greeted the pair as they walked into his office. "Have a seat. Want some coffee? My cousin sends me special blends to try from his shop."

"Sure, thanks." Blair took the offered cup and sipped. "Mmmm... this is good."

Jim chuckled. "You should see him in the morning before he's had his cup of coffee. He's a real slug."

"But get some caffeine in me and I can go all day."

"Regular Energizer Bunny, that kid," said Jim, ruffling Blair's hair.

"Cut it out, Jim!" Blair protested with a grin.

"So, gentlemen, may I assume that the reason you're here is because you decided to take me up on the offer of joining the PD?" Simon asked. "Because we'd really like to have you both."

"Blair insisted," Jim said, looking with loving exasperation at his Guide. "He doesn't want my sentinel abilities to go to waste."

"That would be a shame," Simon agreed. "So, when do you want to start?"

"I'm going to need some time to brush up on police procedure," Jim hedged. "And we've put a down payment on a place, but we're still living out of a motel room. How about the first of next month?"

Simon nodded. "That's only three weeks. I suppose I can wait that long. I'll have Vera send home the paperwork so that you can get that out of the way. She has the procedural books you'll need to review, too. I'll have to check on department policy, but you may have to test out of the Academy."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Jim said. "My military training has given me everything I need to do this job, except for the procedures."

"Great! It's a deal then." Simon came around his desk to shake hands with both of the men. "See you in three weeks."

+++++

"Man, it sure feels great to be in our own place!" Blair said, carrying his suitcase into the loft apartment and setting it just inside the door.

"Welcome home!" Jim swept Blair into his arms and kissed him soundly.

"Whoa, if that's the kind of welcome I'm going to get, maybe we should move more often!" Blair chuckled when Jim finally released him.

"Did you do any studying on the mating rituals of Sentinels and Guides?" Jim asked, as he carried their luggage upstairs to their bedroom.

Blair's head bobbed in the affirmative. "Sentinels like to mark their territory with periodic bonding. When they move into a new dwelling, it's traditional to fuck the Guide even before unpacking."

Jim smiled when he turned to see that Blair was already undressing. "I don't know how much of that is truth and how much is obfuscation," he said, pulling a tube of lubricant from his pocket and dropping it on the nightstand before quickly shedding his own clothes, "but I like the way you think."

Jim climbed onto the bed and straddled Blair, who had sprawled naked on his back while waiting for his Sentinel to finish undressing. He lowered himself to press a kiss against each eyelid, each cheek, before claiming Blair's mouth with unbridled passion. Blair opened to him, wrapping bare arms around Jim's neck, as Jim's tongue explored all the reaches of his Guide's mouth and throat, tasting him, becoming one with him.

Blair lay gasping when the kiss ended, short of breath and high on adrenaline - his cock hard and bumping up against the smooth skin of Jim's ass. Ignoring the blatant plea for release, Jim brushed his fingers over the scar on Blair's shoulder. He traced the outline, one corner of his mouth curving into a small grin as he remembered giving Blair this unique mark during their first, impromptu, bonding during the initial interview. The sight of Blair naked before him had set off alarms in the Sentinel's head and he'd bent to bite and draw blood, claiming the man who had offered his body to be Jim's Guide. Now, Blair just purred as Jim's fingers traced the bite marks, pleased to show the world he belonged to this man, and this man alone.

Jim let his touch drift lower, brushing over nipples hard with anticipation. Blair squirmed beneath him, having difficulty in letting Jim take his time. The Sentinel could smell the arousal, the pearl of come leaking from the straining cock; could hear the pound of an excited heart; could feel the minute trembling on the surface of the skin; could taste the excitement in the sweat oozing from the pores; could see the bright light of love in the sparkling blue eyes. He bent down to take a taut nipple between his teeth, teasing the tender tissue and causing Blair to cry out and hump against Jim's ass in a hopeless attempt at relief. Blair's fists gripped the sheets, threatening to tear through the fabric in an effort to constrain his rising orgasm.

Sitting up, Jim rested both hands on Blair's chest, over the achingly tight nipples. He brushed the tender flesh with his thumbs, watching the shifting emotions on the animated face.

"Oh, God, Jimmmm..." Blair groaned, squirming all the harder to make Jim move.

Taking pity on his Guide, Jim raised his body and slipped lower, allowing Blair's erect penis to pass between his legs before he settled near Blair's feet. Bending over, he took the straining, purple cock into his mouth, kneading Blair's testicles with one hand as he suckled the swollen cockhead.

Blair cried out, the sound an inarticulate wail, as his control over his body evaporated and he pumped Jim's mouth full of his seed. Hips raising off the bed, Blair thrust into the willing throat, making gurgling sounds of relief as his cock pulsed in time with his rapidly beating heart.

Finally, the waves of his climax receded and Blair sank back to the mattress, a limp mass of flesh and bones, too spent to move.

Jim reached across to the nightstand and grabbed the lube, generously coating himself before slipping his elbows beneath Blair's knees and lifting his legs high enough to align his loose hole with Jim's cock. A single, smooth thrust was all that was needed to enter the willing body. Blair's eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned his pleasure at having Jim fill him.

Starting out slow, Jim found that his control over his need was slipping, and his Guide was too relaxed to care. As his arousal continued to climb, Jim pounded harder and harder into the pliant body, until Blair's head was bumping against the headboard of the bed with every rapid thrust. Jim grunted and drew in great, gasping breaths as his orgasm built to a peak, spilling over in a final series of shallow thrusts that filled his Guide to overflowing with his seed.

Exhausted, Jim collapsed on top of Blair, showering the smiling face with kisses and brushing wet locks of dark hair from Blair's eyes. Blair's lips moved, and only a Sentinel could hear the breathy whisper, "Love you, forever."

Jim returned the sentiment like a benediction. "Love you, mine."