Disclaimer--The guys don't belong to me, but belong to Pet Fly, UPN (who

seem to abuse them), Paramount, etc., etc. The title is from a song by

the same name from Elton John. Also used in the story without permission,

are "All Out of Love" by Graham Russell and Clive Davis, as well as "Shadows

in a Mirror" by Chris Isaak. No infringements upon any trademarks or

copyrights were intended. This was done in fun.

Warning: Lot of angst ahead. Some bad language. The first half of this

was originally betaed by Saraid and Nan L. (thanks guys, you're the best!)

but my slightly changed versions were *not* betaed. The last half was

*not* betaed. If this bothers you, if the thought of possible grammatical

errors and spelling makes you writhe, hit the delete key. Also, this story

depicts a male/male relationship. If you don't like this, you're on the

wrong list, in the wrong place, whatever. Go elsewhere.

Summary: Trying to start a relationship with Jim, the Sentinel pushes

Blair away, in no uncertain terms

Notes: Feedback is welcome, good or bad as long as it is constructive.

*NO FLAMES* please. Any mistakes are all mine.

No Valentines

The words from the radio poured over him...an old song from Elton John...

But keep my Valentine

I'll keep my bleeding heart

Just let me out of here

Before that sentimental music starts

And your regrets

Fall like empty lines

Like the lies we write on Valentines...

Blair Sandburg let his head rest against the seat of his Volvo, the hot

tears scalding down his face. 'Why, oh, why couldn't it have been

different?" he moaned to no one in particular, thinking back....

Three Days Earlier

They came through the door of the loft quietly, Blair flinging his backpack

on the floor and heading for his room before Jim could say anything, but

he was called back by his Sentinel's voice.

"Chief, we need to talk." said Jim in a quiet tone of voice.

"What is it, Jim?" Blair answered, his voice quavering. "I mean, I

know what you're going to say, man..."

"Do you, Chief? Do you really? I mean, do you know how close you came to

being killed tonight? I mean, KILLED, DEAD, NADA, NOTHING! Do you ever

even hear anything that I have to say to you? Does your safety mean

nothing to you? Do you have a suicide wish that I should know something

about?" Jim said in an amazingly controlled and tight voice.

"Of course not man! I don't have any death wish, believe me! I just

didn't think..."

"That's it!" yelled Jim. "You don't think! If you took just two seconds

to let a random thought go through that brain of yours, you might actually

do something that makes some kind of sense."

"Oh, thanks, Jim," said Blair quietly, in a defeated tone of voice. "I'm

sorry that I saved that girl from getting run over by the car."

Jim started clenching and unclenching his jaw, obviously very upset. Blair

shifted from one foot to the other nervously.

"She wouldn't have been in that position, Sandburg, if it hadn't of been

for you."

Blair hung his head, not wanting to look his older partner in the eyes. As

the young anthropologist took a deep breath, he glanced up at the

detective.

"That's not fair, Jim. Look, I know I don't have a cop's training like

*you* do, but I do the best that I can...."

"That's just it, Blair," Jim said. You don't do the best that you can.

Lord knows, I've never known anyone smarter than you, but do you ever use

that genius brain of yours on simple matters of common sense? Heaven

forbid! No, you just stick your nose, your foot, your BODY in the way;

it's a wonder that you haven't been killed before this."

"Wish I had..." Blair whispered, only audible for a Sentinel to hear.

Anything was better than disappointing his older friend.

In two quick strides, Jim was in front of him, grabbing him harshly by the

shoulders, shaking him. "Don't ever say that! Don't ever say that, or

even *think* that again!" Jim yelled in Blair's ear.

As the Sentinel shook him violently, Blair vaguely wondered if you could

get a concussion from your brain rolling around inside of your head.

Jim seemed to realize that he had almost gone too far, and he stopped.

"I'm sorry, Blair," he said. "Sometimes you just drive me crazy. I just

don't want anything to happen to you, Chief."

"I know, Jim; I know. I guess what I did tonight was pretty stupid, but

all I could think of was getting that girl out of the way of the car."

Jim sighed. "You've got a heart bigger than all of the outdoors, Chief,

but one of these days it's going to get you killed." Suddenly, he reached

out for Blair, pulling him in tight to his body, his arms holding the

compact body of his young friend snugly to his own. Without warning,

he placed a kiss on the top of Blair's head and let his cheek rest against

the curly topped crown of his Guide.

Blair stood stupefied by what had happened. The heat from Jim's body

coursed through him, dispersing coherent thought. He leaned into Jim,

enjoying the feel of the older man's strong arms holding him, the heat of

the well-muscled torso melding with his own body. Finally, realizing that

his friend was probably just establishing contact to reassure himself that

his young friend was all right, he stiffened slightly. The touch and feel

of Jim that Blair had longed for had caused Blair's body to betray him, as

his cock surged partially erect. Thinking of how disgusted the Sentinel

would be if he saw or guessed, Blair willed his body into submission.

Feeling the withdrawal of Blair's small form, Jim reluctantly let go of

him, slowly removing his arms from around the younger man's body. A

stoic look upon his face, only the detective's eyes showed any emotion.

The ice blue orbs betrayed the amount of hurt the large man felt. Stepping

back, he got his feelings under control, a look of resignation now crossing

his face briefly. He crossed his arms across his chest, and stared at his

young friend, waiting for a response.

Blair stepped back a couple of paces. His face was a little pale, his eyes

huge in his face. "Uh, Jim, look, I'm really, really, *really* sorry, man.

I'll try to do better next time."

"There won't be a next time, Sandburg, if you can't at least show a small

measure of self-preservation."

"Oh, no, Jim. Look, don't shut me out. I *will* do better next time; I'll

think before I move, talk, everything; just don't shut me out, man."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Sandburg. Just reassure me that

next time you'll try to remember to *think* before you act. Okay?"

Suddenly, Blair threw his arms around the older man, hugging him tight. "I

promise, Jim," he whispered.

Jim looked down at the dark curly head underneath his chin, and hugged

back, his eyes once again betraying his feelings as they looked longingly

at his friend.

The two men stood, bodies clasped together, each deep in his own thoughts.

Finally, Blair broke free, albeit reluctantly, and stepped back, afraid of

what his older friend would think of the hug. He cast his eyes downward,

unwilling to meet Jim's gaze as his face turned an alarming shade of deep

pink. "Uh, goodnight Jim" He rushed to his room as a pair of eyes

followed him, the sky blue gaze filled with hunger and longing.

Present

Blair's head rested on his arms, which were crossed over the steering

wheel. As the memories flooded him, he sighed loudly, then finally gave

into his emotions. His small frame shook with the sobs as the feelings of

loss overcame him. He no longer had a home, and had no idea of what to do

anymore.

Blair Sandburg lifted his head, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

With one swipe of his hand, he roughly brushed them away and hiccoughed.

He stared sightlessly out of the window of his car. It had started to

rain again, a cold relentless drizzle that was steadily increasing in

tempo. The ever-decreasing temperature finally impinged itself on his

senses, and he tried to wrap his jacket even more tightly around his

body, to try and warm it, as if anything could ever warm him again.

Although he didn't want them to, his thoughts began to drift back again,

back to what he didn't want to remember, but could never forget.

Two Days Earlier

Blair Sandburg murmurred softly, shifting under the heavy weight of the

blankets on his bed. He slowly came awake, and shifted his still bleary

eyes to his clock. Groaning, he slowly sat up until he remembered that it

was Saturday and that he didn't have any Saturday classes this semester.

He snuggled back under the covers, then sat bolt upright again. His hand

strayed to the top of his head, rubbing softly as he recalled the kiss that

Jim had bestowed upon him the previous evening. A contented look entered

his eyes, as he lay back down and drifted once more into sleep. Soon, he

was lost in the land of dreams, and a soft smile crossed his face.

********************

Jim Ellison came quietly into the bedroom of his roommate. He silently

watched the sleeping form of his partner, the man he loved. Almost

without volition, his hand went to the shoulder of the beautiful figure

lying on the bed in front of him, sheets and blankets twisted over the

lower body, leaving the naked torso open to Jim's inspection. His thumb

began a circular motion over the bare shoulder. He almost zoned on the

touch.

With a soft groan, Blair roused himself to wakefulness. "Jim?" he said.

"What's going on, man?" His eyes looked at Jim trustingly, doubt and

longing both warring for prominent placement there.

"Nothing, Chief. Just go back to sleep."

"Jim?" Blair questioned. With an effort, he struggled to a sitting

position, his eyes holding Jim's.

Jim sighed. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Chief. It's just that, well,

after last night, I just can't let this go on any longer, not without

telling you, no matter what you think. I don't want to lose you, Blair,

I don't want to frighten you away, but you came so close to being killed

last night that I just had to let you know..." his voice lowered to

almost a whisper. "I love you." His hand came up to rest on Blair's

cheek, cupping the younger man's jaw in his hand, beginning a soft,

gentle stroke. His eyes betrayed the naked emotion he was feeling.

"God, oh Jim!" Blair leaned into the caress, his own hand covering

Jim's. "I love you, too. I was just scared that if I ever told you,

you'd toss me out of the loft, Hell, out of the *window.* I was sure

you knew how I felt, those times that I've touched you but let my hand

linger too long". His smokey blue eyes met Jim's lighter blue ones...the

love shining through for all to see. His eyes did not waver.

Jim gasped. "I don't believe it. Lord knows, I don't deserve it. How

could anyone like you ever love me? You are so beautiful, not just on

the outside, but on the inside. I've never known anyone like you before

Chief. I don't know why or how you could ever love anyone like me." His

head lowered; he didn't dare let his eyes meet Blair's.

One of Blair's hands came up behind Jim's neck, pulling the bigger man

towards him. "Did anyone ever tell you you talk too much, Ellison?"

Blair's other hand caught Jim's chin, slowly pulling the older man's head

upright; he leaned forward, softly pressing his lips to the mouth of the

man he wanted more than anything he had ever yearned for in his entire

life.

Jim's mouth met Blair's hungrily, teasingly, sucking at that wonderful

lower lip. His tongue darted out from between his lips, gently forcing

Blair's mouth open; their tongues touched, and it was as if time stood

still for both of them. They hungrily explored each others mouths, the

passion that had been building up for months slowly being unleashed.

Then, Jim lowered his mouth to Blair's left nipple, drawing in the ring

that wound it's way through his lover's flesh, sucking, licking, gnawing.

Blair groaned and thrust his hips forward as Jim's body covered his own.

"Easy, lover." Jim said. "We have all the time in the world." He said

this all the while his own hips began to undulate in that age old rhythm,

as old as time itself.

"Jim! Oh, God, Jim!" Blair screamed, as he tried to make his body one

with the man on top of him. He quieted for a second, and looked up

at Jim through the curtain of his dark curls. "Jim," he said quietly, I,

well, I've never been with a man before. Lord knows I love you, but I'm

so afraid I'll disappoint you..."

"Shhh, Blair, it's all right. We have all the time in the world, now.

I'll teach you, I'll show you, I'll lead you. Let me be the Guide this

time, okay baby?"

Blair looked trustingly up at the man he loved more than life itself.

"Okay, Jim. I trust you." He offered himself to the older man.

Jim sucked in a deep breath. "Oh, God, Blair, I don't deserve you.

I feel like I'm taking something meant for a much better person than

me. You were meant to be saved for the Angels."

"Enough, Jim. Don't get all sappy on me. Just kiss me again, and show

me what to do." Blair pulled the covers off of his lower body, and

removed the boxers he was still wearing.

Quickly, Jim divested himself of the clothes he was wearing, and lay down

beside Blair on the small bed. Tentatively, Jim pressed his naked body

against Blair's. The younger man moaned, and reached for Jim, folding

his arms around the bigger man, trying to press his body into Jim's

awkwardly, but enough to almost send Jim over the top. Jim groaned,

and grabbed Blair's hips, pulling them against his. Their cocks rubbed

against each other, strained against each other, finding a rhythm of

their own. Suddenly, Blair was grasping Jim hard, screaming Jim's

name, and with a rush, his orgasm poured out of him, baptizing both

of them with its creamy spurts. Jim followed soon after, his orgasm

leaving him gasping for breath. "Oh, God, Chief...it's never been that

good before."

"For me either, Jim." Blair confessed. He seemed shy all of a sudden,

his eyes dropping, his face turning a soft pink color. He hid his

face against Jim's chest, not wanting to let go, but not knowing

exactly what to do, either.

"It's okay, Blair. Everything's all right." Jim held the smaller

man against him in an embrace, until Blair fell asleep.

********************

With a start, Blair emerged into wakefulness, hoping that he hadn't

screamed Jim's name outloud. Grimacing, he realized that his boxers were

wet. He laughed mirthlessly as he realized he had had a wet dream,

something he hadn't done since he was a teenager.

"Anything you want to tell me, Chief?"

Blair looked up to see his bedroom doors open, Jim casually leaning against

the doorframe. He groaned, wishing for the floor to open and swallow him

up.

Present

Coming back to the present, Blair hung his head as the emotions washing

through him took their toll. The words to the Elton John song he had heard

earlier went round and round in his mind relentlessly.

......................

No more Valentines day

No more Christmas cards

I've thrown 'em all away

No more sequined stars

No birthday wishes

No more surprises

Who needs 'em anyway

No reason to get excited

Yes, I gave you everything

I gave you earth and sky

And everything in between

That walks, crawls or flies

No Easter mornings

It's your cross now

Keep it all for yourself

It's overrated anyhow

But keep my Valentine

I'll keep my bleeding heart

Just let me out of here

Before that sentimental music starts

And your regrets

Fall like empty lines

Like the lies we write on Valentines

The tears once again coursed down Blair's cheeks. He wrapped his arms

around himself, and sobbed.

Blair's body shook not only with his sobs, but with the cold seeping into

every pore from the chilly Cascade night. He knew that he couldn't stay

where he was, but didn't know where to go. "Anywhere as long as it's

not in Cascade," he mumbled. His hand shakily went to the ignition, and

he started the Volvo. He turned the heater on full blast, but it sputtered

and hissed, sending out only a bare minimum of warmth against his frosty

skin. Sighing, he realized that he should have gotten the heater fixed.

He put the car in gear and slowly pulled off of the beach, heading toward

the road. The wipers scratched against the windshield, barely penetrating

the falling moisture enough to let Blair see where he was going. He swiped

at his face with the back of his hand, willing his tears away. Cautiously,

he pulled onto the road, heading east. He wasn't sure where he was going,

he just knew it had to be away from Cascade, away from the loft, away from

Jim...especially away from Jim. He drove, slowly gaining speed as the

lights of Cascade receded in his rear view mirror. He glanced once more

into the back seat, where most of his worldly possessions now resided.

Pretty much everything he owned, but they were only things, not important.

The only really important thing, the only thing he cared about more than

his own life, hated him, never wanted to see him again. Once more, he

felt the hot tears seep from his eyes. With a slightly reddened face,

he thought back with embarrassment to two days ago, waking from his dream,

his boxers wet from his own ejaculate, Jim's name on his lips. He had

almost jumped out of his skin when he realized that Jim was in his room,

leaning against the door jamb.

Two Days Earlier

"Anything you want to tell me, Chief?" Jim had said, half smiling.

The young man had begun babbling. "Uh, no Jim, uh, just a bad dream, y'

know, uh, I hope I didn't wake you up. Did I scream or something?"

"Well, you yelled my name out pretty loudly, Sandburg; anyway, I was

already up, so don't worry about it."

"Uh, okay Jim, uh, sorry about that. Didn't mean to disturb you or

anything. Sorry."

Jim's face softened a little. "Anything you need to talk about, Chief?"

"Uh, no Jim. Sorry. Guess I'll get up now. Sorry."

Laughing, Jim had turned away. "Don't get up on my account, Sandburg.

It's Saturday. I'll make breakfast." With one last chuckle, Jim had

gone to the kitchen, whistling softly.

Whew, that was close, Blair thought. As he stirred in bed, he felt

his wet boxers once more. His face flamed with embarrassment. Oh,

God, Jim *must* have known, he would have been able to smell that.

With a groan, Blair pulled the covers over his face, praying to every

deity he knew to just let him disappear off the face of the earth; well,

out of Cascade at any rate.

A few minutes later, the phone had rung. Jim told Blair that it was

Simon and that he had to go to the Station for a while, but that Blair

didn't need to go with him. Jim did not return until late, well after

midnight, after Blair had already gone to bed.

Present

The rain increased its steady pounding on Blair's car; the wind had picked

up quite a bit, and Blair had to slow down due to decreased visibility

and the buffeting his car was taking. "Wonderful," he said out loud.

Although Blair didn't think it was possible, the rain started to come down

even harder, and he was forced to start looking for a place to pull over to

wait it out. His range of vision was zip, and even as unhappy as he was,

he wasn't quite ready to end everything just yet. At that moment, he saw

a sign pronouncing a picnic area two miles ahead. As he crawled along,

Blair finally sighed with relief as he came to the exit he wanted.

Signalling, Blair took the exit and gratefully pulled into a far corner

of the picnic area. As it was getting late, he decided to spend the night

at the rest area. Turning off the ignition, Blair began to rummage in

the back seat for something he could cover up with; it was damned cold,

and even though he knew it wasn't freezing, he hated the chills and the

shivering that were arcing through his body as what little warmth the

heater had provided began to dissipate. Wishing that he had taken the

time to grab the blanket on his bed, he moaned to himself. His forays

into the boxes and suitcases in his back seat soon provided him with a

sweater and another jacket. He bundled up as best he could, and

prepared for a lonely and miserable night. He soon became lost in his

thoughts.

Yesterday

Blair had gotten up before Jim that Sunday. Knowing that his friend

had gotten in very late, he decided that the least he could do was make

something special. He decided to make blueberry pancakes which Jim

loved. He rapidly began to assemble the ingredients on the counter--milk,

eggs, flour, the fresh blueberries he had picked up at the Farmer's

Market...He mixed all of the items he needed together, and heated a pan on

top of the stove. Soon, he had several pancakes beginning to brown, bubbles

forming on the top. He hummed softly to himself, flipping the delicately

toasted cakes over. When he realized he wasn't alone, he jumped. Jim

hadn't made a sound.

"Jeez, Jim. Why don't you give a guy a heart attack? You trying to kill

me on purpose, or what? Tired of me hanging around? Something you need

to tell me?"

"Sorry, Chief. Didn't mean to scare you. Just lost in thought, that's

all."

Blair sighed. "That's all right, Jim. Hey, by the way, how did it go at

the station yesterday? Anything you need my help with? And *don't* for-

get I'm your partner."

"Uh, no Chief. Nothing important," Jim said.

Blair had the feeling that Jim wasn't telling him something, or he wouldn't

have gotten in so late the night before. Blair had gone to bed at 2 a.m.,

and Jim still hadn't come in. "You ready for breakfast, Big Guy?" he

asked, not voicing his suspicions.

"Yeah, kid. I'm starved."

Blair served the pancakes and put butter and maple syrup on the table; he

got each of them a glass of orange juice, and sat down at the table with

Jim.

"Uh, Blair. What's the special occasion, buddy? You haven't made these

since my birthday."

Blair just shrugged. "I don't know. Just felt like making them, that's

all. Okay?"

"No complaints here, Chief."

Both men began to eat, each lost in his own thoughts.

Blair sat silently, wondering why Jim, who was usually eager to discuss

a new case with him was being so reticent about saying anything about

his unexpected call to the station, and extremely late night. "Something's

going on," he muttered to himself, forgetting for a moment that, although

no one else would have heard him, a Sentinel could.

Blair didn't notice Jim looking at him, a worried expression on his face.

Present

With the steady tap, tap of the rain on the roof of his car, Blair's

remembrances slowly began to fade, and sleep overtook him.

Blair awakened with a moan. His back was stiff, his neck hurt and he

was chilled to the bone. Not to mention he had to pee. He slowly

opened his eyes, but nothing but an inky blackness greeted him. He

realized that he was in his car and that it was still the middle of

the night. Flipping on the headlights of his car, he roused himself,

fumbled for a minute trying to get the car door open, stood and then

stumbled off behind a tree at the edge of the picnic area to relieve

himself. After pulling up his zipper, Blair walked around a little bit,

trying to work some of the kinks out of his body. Rubbing his hands

together and then wrapping his arms around his thin torso, he attempted

to coax some warmth back into his shivering body. The rain had

stopped for now, but the air was heavy with moisture; Blair hoped that

it would hold off for a day or so. Although he actually kind of liked

the rain, he didn't really want to have to drive in it. As if on cue,

there was a flash of lightening, a loud crack of thunder, and the

heaven's opened, almost drenching Blair within a couple of seconds. He

ran back to his car, cursing. "Man, what *did* I do in a previous life

to have karma such as this? I must have *really* pissed off some deity."

Getting in the passenger side of his car, he squirmed out of his wet

shirts, jeans and boxers. Reaching in the back seat, he found a towel

in one of the boxes resting on the floorboard. He dried himself off as

best he could, and then found dry clothes in his suitcase. He dressed

as quickly as possible, then wrapped himself back in the sweater and

jacket he had been using for a blanket. Shivering almost uncontrollably,

he closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back to sleep. However,

all he was capable of doing was recalling details of the day before.

Yesterday

After breakfast, Blair had cleared the table and washed the dishes. Jim

had draped himself over the couch, newspaper in hand, and settled in

comfortably. He soon appeared to be engrossed in an article.

"Hey, Jim. What's so interesting?" Blair inquired. "Jim? Uh, Jim?"

He touched the older man on the shoulder. Surprisingly, Jim jumped

at the light touch. "Zoning on the newspaper, Jim?" Blair grinned

down at the bigger man.

"Oh, hey Chief. I didn't hear you. Guess I was pretty much absorbed

in the comics. Always like to see what the Peanuts gang is up to. Well,

I'd better shower and dress. I have to be at the station by 11."

"On Sunday, Jim? What's going on? Is there a new case, something that

I should be helping you with?"

"Oh, nothing's going on, Sandburg. I just promised Simon that I'd come in

and get caught up with some of the paperwork; then he and I were going to

try that new Italian restaurant and talk shop. You know. You'd be pretty

bored. This'll give you a chance to work on your paper, or something."

Jim grinned down at his younger friend, but the smile didn't quite reach

his eyes.

"Okay, man. Whatever." Blair mumbled desultorily.

Jim disappeared into the bathroom, taking the paper with him. Blair went

to his room, slamming the door a little harder than necessary, wondering

why his friend was shutting him out. If he wasn't wanted, couldn't Jim

just tell him? Disbelieving that his friend was really going in to do

paper work which he usually left for Blair, he wondered what it could be.

Sighing, he thought maybe it was something dealing with children, or a

really gruesome murder or perhaps....His wonderings were put on hold

as the phone rang and he went to answer it.

"Hello? Oh, hi Jarrod." Blair groaned to himself, not now! Jarrod was

a good friend who had been dumped recently by his girlfriend, and he had

been semi-suicidal ever since. In all good conscience, Blair couldn't

not take this phone call. "How's it going? Oh, you want to talk about it?

Uh, huh, uh, huh." The conversation went on for about 45 minutes, by which

time Jim had already left. Blair was feeling better after talking to

Jarrod; once again he had quieted down his friend and made him feel better

about life in general, and women in particular. "I'll talk to Jim later,"

he murmured under his breath.

Blair had worked part of the day on his dissertation and part on getting

his lectures ready for the coming week. He worked straight through dili-

gently. Finally getting up and stretching, he realized it was almost

dinner time. Wondering what he could possibly make for dinner, he

suddenly realized the phone must have been ringing, because he heard

the answering machine picking up. Thinking that he had had his own

version of a zone out he shook his head ruefully and listened as the

caller left a message.

"Hey, Chief. It's Jim. Where are you? Oh well, just wanted to let you

know not to expect me for dinner. It's gonna be another late night. Don't

wait up. See you tomorrow."

Blair heard the click as Jim hung up. Speculating about what was going

on for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, he knew that he

had to talk to Jim. Musing that perhaps he was in Blessed Protector

mode trying to protect his partner from something, Blair grimaced. He had

to make his friend realize that he was his partner and that Jim needed him

to watch his back. Making up his mind, Blair grabbed his jacket and left

the loft. Getting in his car, he drove to the station. He parked his

car and entered the building. After showing his ID he made his way up in

the elevator to Major Crimes. He peered through the glass at the darkened

offices...no one was there. Wearily, Blair leaned back against the door

and tried to think. Finally realizing he had no idea where Jim might be,

he left.

Returning to the loft, Blair made himself some soup, and then proceeded

to clean up after himself. Trying to get his mind off his partner, he

worked some more on his paper; he gave up when he realized that the

last paragraph he had written made absolutely no sense. He went to the

couch and turned on the television. An old Jerry Lewis movie was

showing. He followed it for awhile, but eventually his head began to nod,

and he fell into a restless slumber. He didn't hear Jim come home at 2:30,

nor did he hear Jim walk softly over to the couch.

Thinking that he was dreaming, Blair stirred as he felt the warmth of

Jim's hand on his head; he moaned softly as he felt the bigger man's

fingers twine themselves in his hair. He began to shake his head

groggily as he heard "I love you, Chief."

"Jim?" Blair asked sleepily, trying to sit up on the couch. "What's

going on, man? Everything all right?"

"Everything's just fine, Chief. I just wanted to wake you up and tell

you to get in bed, otherwise you'll be pretty stiff tomorrow."

"Oh, okay Jim. I guess I'll go to bed, huh?" Blair drowsily stumbled

to his feet and headed for his room. Turning, he asked, "Uh, Jim, a

minute ago, did you say something before I was fully awake?"

"Nothing important, Sandburg. I was just trying to wake you up."

"Okay man, I'll see you in the morning. G'night."

"Good night, Chief."

Falling into his bed, Blair thought back to the past few minutes. He

felt sure that he had not been dreaming, that Jim had really touched

him and that he had said 'I love you, Chief.' If that was true, then

perhaps that kiss on top of his head the other night meant what he

hoped it meant. He sent up a heartfelt thank you to every deity he

could think of, and drifted off happily to sleep, picturing in his mind

what the coming day would bring.

Present

"You are an absolute idiot, Sandburg." Blair said aloud. "To think some-

one like Jim would want *you* of all people." He shifted in the car

seat, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Tears began to course

down his cheeks once again. Remembering some of the words to the song

that had been flitting through his mind, he thought bitterly...'yeah, no

more valentines, no Christmas, no Easter, no Labor Day, no more camping,

no more talks with Jim, no more friendly camaraderie, nothing. Just me

and my bleeding heart.' As he settled back into the seat, tears streaming

down his face, something began to tease the back of his mind. Something

wasn't quite right....

The rain continued to beat against the windshield of his car. Ignoring

it, Blair shook his head slightly. Something was bothering him, something

just out of reach of his conscious mind. Swiping at his face with the back

of his hand, he dried his tears. "What is it? Come on, Sandburg, use

that *educated* mind of yours to remember!! Think! Think!" He racked his

brain trying to recall what it could be, but the memory remained elusive,

tantalizingly close yet far away, out of his grasp. He stared un-

blinkingly out of the windshield of his car, realizing with a start

that it was dawn, another grey dreary day to try to get through, alone.

Alone...nothing unusual about that. Most of his life had been spent

in that lonely state, until a miracle had occurred, sending him to

the hospital to check out a patient by the name of Jim Ellison, a

Cascade PD detective who appeared to be the embodiment of Blair's field

of study. Since meeting the detective, he had finally known what it was

like to have someone to care for who actually seemed to reciprocate the

feeling; he had discovered that he, who never seemed to stay in one place

very long, wanted to stay in Cascade and build a life. Unfortunately,

that life he wanted to construct revolved around one Jim Ellison...

his Sentinel, his partner, his best friend, his reason for breathing.

He had done something that he had promised himself he would never do;

he had fallen in love, leaving himself open to the anguish he now felt

coursing through his body. Naomi had been right. As soon as he had

felt himself beginning to care, he should have been out of there.

That was what Naomi had always done; pulled up stakes anytime her

emotions came too much into play. Hurt them before they hurt you--that

was her motto. Blair had always followed her example, until he was

blindsided by his research subject. 'What a fool you are, Blair,' he

thought to himself. Sighing, he let his thoughts drift back.

Monday

Blair stretched his arms overhead, yawning widely. Today was the day!

He was going to tell Jim how he felt and with any luck by that evening

they would be together in Jim's bed, making love! Frowning as he realized

he wasn't exactly sure what that entailed, he decided to spend part of

the day doing research. His thoughts turned to more mundane matters

as he stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later,

he hummed to himself as he made some eggs and toast. He poured

himself a cup of coffee, wondering just what time Jim had made the brew.

No other trace remained of the detective, as he always cleaned up

compulsively after himself, leaving no clue as to what, if anything, he had

had for breakfast before leaving for the station.

Moving his plate and cup to the table, Blair sat down and reached for

the newspaper that was resting there. 'Hah!' he thought. 'You're slipping

Ellison. This is *not* what I would call a tidy paper.' Indeed, although

folded, most of the paper was out of order and very wrinkled.

Finishing his breakfast and straightening up a bit, Blair began to plan

his day. He had classes most of the morning, and needed to spend some

time in his office in the afternoon grading some of the term papers

that had been turned in the previous week. Then he figured, he'd

spend a little time at the library, researching a little into the how

and what two men did together in bed. Shaking his head, he realized that

he was making this *way* too clinical. He loved Jim. Surely the two of

them making love would just come naturally. Oh, well, a little

research wouldn't hurt. He laughed at himself, grabbed his keys and

backpack, and started his day.

**********

For the hundredth time, Blair hoped fervently that Jim wouldn't be late;

he wanted this to be perfect. He finished setting the table, then went

to the kitchen to stir the spaghetti sauce that was simmering there. Going

to the refrigerator, he pulled out the bowl of salad that had been

chilling; placing the salad and a couple of bottles of salad dressing on

the table he turned and put a colander in the sink and then dumped

the waiting pan of spaghetti and boiling water into the strainer. At that

second, the oven timer dinged; putting on an oven mit, he retrieved

a golden brown loaf of garlic bread. 'Perfect,' he mused. 'Dessert is

chilling in the fridge, dinner's all ready, now I just need to light

the candles and turn down the lights. A little music won't hurt, either.'

Finishing his tasks, Blair cocked his head as he heard a key turning in

the lock. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down. It was

just Jim. Taking one last nervous breath, he turned to greet his loftmate.

"Sandburg, what the Hell is this?" exclaimed Jim as he trudged slowly

through the door, tossing his keys in the basket.

"Uh, it's dinner, Jim. I just sort of wanted to have something special,

y'know? I mean, you've been working so hard lately, and I thought this

would help you to relax. And if that doesn't work, I'm hoping that this

will!"

Blair slowly moved closer to Jim, and taking a deep breath, he launched

himself at the bigger man, throwing his arms around his neck, reaching

up on tiptoe to kiss the mouth of the man he loved so much. "I love

you, Jim," he breathed.

Suddenly, Blair felt his arms wrenched from around Jim's neck; the next

thing he knew Jim had shoved him down and away from him. A stunned

Blair fell onto his butt, looking up at the older man in surprise. He

watched with a sinking heart as Jim wildly started wiping off his

mouth with the back of his hand, a look of intense disgust upon his

face.

"You little pervert!" shouted Jim. "You sicken me! How could you ever,

in a million years, think that I would want that kind of relationship

with you? You're revolting." Striding purposefully towards the door,

Jim grabbed his keys and turned around, glaring at Blair. "You've got

two hours; when I get back, I'd better not so much as find one of your

hairs in my loft. Get all of your stuff and get the hell out of my

home." Slamming the door, Jim left.

A dazed Blair slowly got to his feet. 'Oh, God, oh, God, what just

happened? This can't be real, it can't, it can't, it can't. What am

I going to do? I don't believe this, I don't believe this.' His thoughts

in chaotic turmoil, Blair hugged himself, and rocked slightly on his feet,

back and forth. Tears slowly ebbed from his eyes; with a loud sob, he

ran to his room and threw himself on his bed. After about thirty minutes,

he tiredly got to his feet, and started the job of packing his meager

belongings. With only a few minutes to spare of the two hours given to

him, Blair turned and looked at the loft for what he figured would be the

last time. Picking up the last box, he cast one final glance around,

and left what had been his home for almost two years.

Present

Shaking his head, Blair came out of his reverie. He finally realized

what he should have before. The reaction just wasn't Jim; it was totally

out of character. If he hadn't been so shocked, he would have realized

it sooner. It was almost as if Jim was just looking for an opportunity to

get him out of the loft, out of his life. They'd been so close, and Blair

was sure he had not imagined Jim's feelings toward him. He might not

be a detective, but he had spent two years with one. With a renewed

vigor, he started his car and turned on the wipers that strained to clear

his field of vision. Leaving the picnic area and pulling carefully onto

the highway, Blair headed in the direction of Cascade.

Blair squinted, trying desparately to see through the smeared and foggy

windshield of his Volvo. All the wipers seemed to be doing now was

streaking dirt, dead bugs and leaves. Finally, though, he was able to see

the lights of Cascade in the distance. Sighing in relief as he was now on

a much more familiar stretch of road, he nevertheless still took it easy,

not driving over the speed limit and keeping his headlights on bright

whenever he could. As he got closer and closer to Cascade, though, he

became more nervous. What if he was wrong about Jim? What if it hadn't

been some sort of ploy to get the anthropologist to leave? He shook his

head. His gut feeling, his instinct was telling him that there was

something terribly wrong. Funny how he had been getting these feelings

more and more lately. His shaman talents coming into play? At this point,

he didn't really care where they came from...he just prayed that they were

right.

As he came up on Prospect Street and prepared to turn, he remembered that

it was only late morning. The day was so dark with the clouds and rain,

that it looked like early evening and the street lamps were all lit. What

if Jim wasn't at the loft? After all, he should be at the station. But

still relying on his instinct, the young Guide continued his path towards

his former, or current? home at 852 Prospect. Finding a parking space

fairly close to the dwelling, he parked the Volvo and slowly exited the

driver's side of his car. He hesitated. What if Jim threw him out again?

Standing lost in thought, the grad student slowly straightened his body,

and continued on towards the loft where he now knew Jim was, as his truck

stood parked along the curb. Muttering to himself, the young man tried to

give himself a pep talk. "C'mon, Sandburg. The worst he can do is throw

you out again. Not like you've been kidnapped by Lash again. Just

worse..." his voice trailed away as he acknowledged the truth of the

statement to himself.

Taking the stairs, Blair fairly flew up to the floor his Sentinel was on.

But once he was standing outside the door, he hesitated. As he stood

there wondering where his next bout of courage was going to come from, he

heard the refrain of an old familiar tune playing much too loudly on the

stereo. What was Jim thinking? Or was he? He stood there, listening to

the lyrics that he could hear clearly through the door.

I'm lying alone with my head on the phone

Thinking of you till it hurts

I know you hurt too but what else can we do?

Tormented and torn apart

I wish I could carry your smile and my heart

For times when my life seems so low

It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring

When today doesn't really know, doesn't really know

I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you

I know you were right believing for so long

I'm all out of love, what am I without you

I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong

I want you to come back and carry me home

Away from these long lonely nights

I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too

Does the feeling seem oh so right

And what would you say if I called on you now

And said that I can't hold on

There's no easy way, it gets harder each day

Please love me or I'll be gone, I'll be gone

I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you

I know you were right believing for so long

I'm all out of love, what am I without you

I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong

Oh, what are you thinking of?

What are you thinking of?

What are you thinking of?

What are you thinking of?

I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you

I know you were right believing for so long

I'm all out of love, what am I without you

I can't be too late I know I was so wrong

As the chorus repeated again and again until it began to fade, Blair

quietly entered the loft. He barely stifled a gasp as he took in the sight

of his Sentinel upon the couch. Jim was slouched down low, a half empty

bottle of beer in his hand, and it was obvious that it was not his first

one of the day, although it was not even lunch time. His clothes looked

as if he had slept in them; but what was the most frightening was that Jim

was not even aware that Blair had walked into the loft. He was too lost in

his own thoughts to have heard the young man enter. It wasn't really a

zone, not really, but close. A cold fist of fear clenched Blair's heart in

its grip as he recognized the despair that the older man was going through.

As he stood there looking at the man he loved, another song came on the

stereo. Blair recognized Chris Isaak as the sounds blasted forth much too

loud through the speakers. The music reverberated throughout his body

and soul.

I'm watching somebody's heart break in two.

And wondering if somewhere your crying too.

Shadows in a mirror tell me that I'm wrong.

Shadows in a mirror, tell me that we're through.

I'm watching somebody's world at an end.

And wondering if someday we'll love again.

Shadows in a mirror tell me that I'm wrong.

Shadows in a mirror, tell me that we're through.

Oh and I, I still need your love.

I can't see my life darling without you.

Shadows in a mirror, shadows in a mirror.

As the guitar solo started, Blair watched Jim as he raised the beer bottle

to his lips, draining the rest of the liquid in one gulp.

I'm watching somebody's world at an end.

And wishing that somehow we could love again.

Shadows in a mirror tell me that I'm wrong.

Shadows in a mirror, tell me that we're through.

Oh and I, I still need your love.

I can't see my life darling without you.

Shadows in a mirror, shadows in a mirror.

Shadows in a mirror.

Blair strode quickly over to the stereo flicking it off. He then turned

and faced his friend.

"Jim?" Blair questioned softly, now standing close to the older man.

The older man finally noticed the young Guide. At first there was a smile

playing around the lips, and welcome in his eyes. Then the Sentinel

lurched unsteadily to his feet. Standing as erect and tall as he could,

the detective gave Blair his best glare.

"What are you doing here, Sandburg? I thought I threw you out. Do I need

to resort to physical force to actually get you to leave where you're not

wanted?" Jim growled the words at the younger man.

"Won't work, Jim. I know something's wrong. You're just trying to protect

me again, aren't you?"

Suddenly, the large man threw his beer bottle across the room. As it

smashed against the wall, Blair could not help but cringe. "I want you OUT

Sandburg. Which of those words are you having trouble understanding?"

Blair stood his ground, looking up at the older man. Shaking his head, he

said softly, "Sorry, Jim. Not convincing. I don't believe you, man."

Suddenly, the older man did something he had not done in a long time.

Grabbing ahold of Blair, he pushed him roughly against the wall. "I want

you gone, Sandburg. This is *not* your home anymore."

Backing down slightly, Blair acquiesced. "Okay, Jim. You win this round.

But I'll be back, man. I know you need me."

As Blair exited the loft, he did not notice the look of longing and anguish

that the light blue eyes bestowed upon his retreating form.

As Blair slowly exited the building, he turned. A feeling of doubt was

niggling him. It was like something or someone was telling him that he

should not leave. Shaking his head in exasperation at not being able to

read the signs he felt his body was trying to give to him, he made his way

to the Volvo. Getting in, he slowly looked around the area. Seeing nothing

amiss, he took off, heading for the Station. He was going to get some

answers from someone. Of that he had no doubt. Few people could be more

determined and adamant than an irritated Guide needing questions answered.

With a firm set to his jaw and a look of resolve upon his face, he worked

out his strategy in his mind as he drew nearer to the men he hoped would

answer his queries.

By the time he pulled into the parking garage, Blair was a bundle of

nerves. Due to the rain, traffic had been a nightmare and it had taken him

much longer than usual to get to his destination. Exiting his car, he ran

a slightly shaky hand through his hair. Squaring his shoulders, he headed

to the elevator that would take him to Major Crimes and hopefully, the

solutions he was seeking.

Finally, the young man was standing outside of Simon's closed office door.

It was fairly quiet in the department as most of the detectives were

probably at lunch, but Blair knew that the Captain was at his desk.

Knocking, he waited for only a second before he opened the door and entered

the Captain's domain.

Looking up at the young anthropologist, chewing on an unlit cigar and

obviously quite involved in whatever he was working on, Simon Banks snarled

at the smaller man.

"Sandburg, do you know what a closed door means? It means, in case you

didn't know, that I *do not* want to be disturbed. I'm busy right now.

Whatever you want will just have to wait."

"Sorry, Captain. I can't do that." Blair crossed his arms and leaned

against the wall, his face set in a mask of determination. "I want to know

what is going on with Jim, sir."

"Sorry, kid. There's nothing that I can tell you."

Look, Captain, I know that you are aware of whatever is going on with him.

Did you know that he kicked me out of the loft yesterday?" As Blair stared

at the older man expecting a look of disbelief or amazement, he realized

that he saw neither in the large man's face. "You did know," he said

softly.

"Sandburg, I can't tell you a thing. I just suggest that for now you stay

away from Ellison."

"I can't do that, Simon. He's my friend; he needs me. I'm his partner,

his guide, his backup. I'm meant to be by his side. I know that you don't

understand everything about the Sentinel aspect, but you're just going to

have to take my word on this one. But I can't help him if he won't talk to

me. Please, Simon, tell me what's going on."

Shaking his head, the large man removed his glasses and pinched the bridge

of his nose. "Look, Blair. I can't. Jim doesn't want you to know, so I

can't talk to you about it. Just believe me when I say that for now it's

best that you stay as far away from him as you can." Under his breath, the

large captain added, "and the safest."

With a look of slight triumph upon his face, Blair said, "So I was right.

He is just trying to protect me. Damn it! I'm a grown man! I can take

care of myself, y'know. When is everyone going to stop treating me like

some wet behind the ears kid?"

"Maybe when you quit acting like one? Blair, I'm sorry that I can't tell

you more. Suffice it to say that for now, you need to keep out of Jim's

way." Sighing, Banks continued, "Anyway, with any luck, this whole thing

should be resovled in a day or two."

"What thing, Simon?!" Blair exclaimed in frustration. As the Captain rose

from his chair, a look of extreme annoyance upon his face, Blair raised his

hands in surrender. "I'm going, I'm going." Exiting the Captain's office,

Blair allowed himself the small satisfaction of slamming the door, albeit

not too loudly.

"Sandburg!"

Cringing slightly, Blair walked away. Looking around, he didn't see either

Brown or Rafe, so he headed in the direction of Joel Taggert's office. The

young man and the large captain of the Bomb Squad had formed a close

friendship, due in part to the help that Blair had given the large man

during a series of bombings of churches in the area. Joel had been almost

incapacitated due to a former nemesis of Ellison's named Lee Bracket.

Blair had helped the Captain to overcome his fear, and be instrumental in

helping to save lives and property during the church bombing case.

Knocking on the door and hearing a faint "Come in," Blair entered the

office of the friendly Bomb Squad captain.

"Hey, Joel. How you doing, man?"

"Hi, Blair. Are you okay?" Joel's round face was a study of concern and

affection as he looked at the younger man.

Wiping his hand down his face, Blair replied, "No. Not really, Joel. I

need your help, man."

"Anything, Blair. Just name it."

Joel motioned for Blair to sit down before continuing.

After he made himself comfortable, Blair took a deep breath and continued.

"Joel, I need to know what's going on with Jim. I know that he thinks he's

protecting me or something, but...well, it's hard to explain. I know that

he needs me right now, but he won't let me help. He's thrown me out of the

loft, but I saw him earlier. He's hurting. What's going on, Joel?

Please, talk to me."

Joel sat quietly for a few minutes, subjecting the young anthropologist to

a silent examination. His large round face was full of compassion, and his

dark brown eyes held a hint of understanding. Sitting up straighter, he

came to a decision. "Okay, Blair. I'll tell you. I know Jim wanted this

kept from you, because he knew that you'd try and help and he was afraid

you'd get hurt. But I think you have a right to know. I'm not sure how he

got you to leave the loft, but I saw him last night. Man, he looked like

he'd not only lost his best friend but that he'd lost part of himself. He

looked beat, lost....I'm not sure I've ever seen Jim Ellison look quite

that defeated before."

Taggert paused as he took a sip of coffee. "It's someone out of his past,

before you knew him. A really nasty character by the name of Boyd Sawyer.

Jim put the guy away, and the guy swore vengeance on him. Nothing new

about that; it's happened before. But Sawyer was a real piece of work.

Ex-military like Jim, he was highly intelligent and extremely inventive.

He killed quite a few people before Ellison took him down. But the bastard

almost killed Jim during the case. He was good, damned good. Almost as

good as Jim. It was damned close, and before Jim could take him down, he

killed two more people. A couple of teenage kids that just got in the way.

Sawyer said their blood was on Ellison's head. Man, that case almost

killed him. I know he's felt guilty about it ever since. Like he should

have found Sawyer before he did. After that case, Ellison became even more

closed off than he'd been before, and that is really saying something. A

year later, you came along and weasled your way into his life." Joel

chuckled. "He's been more human since he met you, Sandburg. Something

that all of us are grateful for. Anyway, Jim'll be okay. We're narrowing

down on Sawyer, and we've got four of our best men guarding the loft."

Blair sat up in alarm. "Joel, I was just at the loft about two hours ago.

I didn't see anyone guarding the loft. No one, man."

Staring at the young anthropologist in horror, Joel grabbed his phone and

punched in a few numbers. "Simon, it's Taggert. Blair's in my

office...look, I know, but I told him. Listen, the kid was just over at

Jim's and he said there weren't any of our men there. Simon...."

"Shit!"

Even Blair could hear Bank's exclamation over the phone. As Joel was

heading out his door, Blair quickly followed the large man to Major Crimes.

As they entered the department, they heard Simon quickly barking out

orders. Before anyone could stop him, Blair whirled around and ran

hurriedly out the doors and to the elevator.

"Sandburg! Stop! Blair, God damn it!" Simon yelled, watching as the young

man disappeared into the elevator. Grabbing his coat, the Major Crime's

captain quickly strode out of the department, followed by Joel and several

of his men.

As the elevator halted at the parking garage, Blair fairly flew through the

doors and towards his car.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! I knew something was wrong. Why didn't I stay? Shit!"

Fumbling with his car keys, the young Guide opened his car door and jumped

inside. Starting the engine, he pulled out just as Simon and the others

were exiting the elevators. He saw the large captain yelling at him in his

rear view mirror, but he didn't hesitate as he gunned his motor and shot

away, almost hitting a car as he exited the parking garage. Amid a blare

of horns, the Volvo disappeared down the street.

In spite of his driving like a maniac, somehow Blair managed to avoid an

accident, but it still took him more than 30 minutes to reach the loft. As

he pulled into a parking space, he heard the sirens heralding the arrival

of Simon and the others. But he didn't wait. Exiting his car, he ran

across the street and into the building where Jim was, hopefully, still

alive.

Blair ran as quickly as he could up the stairs, but as he neared the door

to the loft, he slowed. The door was standing ajar, and he hesitated for a

moment before entering, afraid of what he would find. Berating himself for

being a coward, he entered through the door and stared in horror at the

scene before him. An unknown man was lying in a pool of blood near the

door of Blair's bedroom. Barely sparing the man a glance, Blair hurried

into the room where Jim Ellison lay on the floor, very still. Jim also was

in a pool of blood that seemed to spread as Blair looked at it. As he

reached his Sentinel, the young Guide knelt and shakily put his fingers to

the carotid artery in the large man's neck. It was there! Weak, but there

was a pulse. Ripping off his shirt, the young man hurriedly put pressure

to the wound in his friend's shoulder. He looked up, his eyes glistening

with moisture, as Simon and the others entered.

Simon quickly dispatched his men to take care of Sawyer, as he and Joel

hurried over to Blair's side. Pulling out his cell phone, Simon called for

additional backup as well as for paramedics and an ambulance.

As Blair felt Simon touch his shoulder gently, he let forth a heartfelt

sigh. "He's alive, Simon. He's alive."

"Jim's a tough man, Sandburg. He'll be all right."

"God, I hope so, Simon. But how long has he been lying here, by himself,

slowly bleeding to death? I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have left.

I shouldn't have...."

The large Major Crime's captain interrupted the ramblings of the distraught

man. "Blair, if you had been here, there's a good chance that you would be

dead now. It looks as if he got in through the fire escape outside your

room."

"If Jim doesn't make it, sir, I might as well be dead." Blair stated the

simple truth quietly.

Joel patted the back of his young friend, as if trying to impart some of

his strength to the anthropologist. Turning his head, he noticed the

entrance of the paramedics. "Blair, you need to stand back. The EMTs are

here. They'll help him."

Blair, however, refused to do more than move over to give the medical

personnel room to work. He maintained his contact with his Sentinel, and

seemed to be daring anyone to make him leave Jim's side.

As the men finished working on Jim, they gestured to Simon to get the young

man to step aside so that they could get Jim moved to the stretcher.

Blair balked. "No! I'm staying with him!"

An older man, looking kindly at the frantic young man, told him that he

could ride in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Giving the man a

look of gratitude, Blair backed away to let the men finish loading Jim onto

the stretcher, and then without a backward glance, followed them out of the

room to the elevator.

Simon shouted after him. "Blair, we'll be there as soon as we can."

Although he heard the captain, the young man did not acknowledge him. He

was totally focussed on his Sentinel.

**********

Simon Banks strode purposefully through the doors of the emergency entrance

to the hospital. Making his way to the waiting room, he saw Blair Sandburg

sitting dejectedly in a chair, head in hands. He looked up as the large

captain stood beside him, holding out a sweatshirt for him to take.

Blair simply stared up at the large captain, not taking the shirt from him.

"Here, Sandburg. Take off that shirt you've got on. In case you didn't

know, it's completely covered in blood. I'm glad to see that someone at

least got you to wash your face and hands."

Finally seeming to come back to himself, Blair stood up and pulled his

shirt off. Dropping it on the floor, he reached for and put on the

sweatshirt that Simon held out to him. It was at least two sizes too big,

the sleeves hanging below his hands. Absent-mindedly, the young

anthropologist pushed them up to above his elbows.

"Sorry. That was the best I could do. It's one of Jim's. Your, uh, room

didn't seem to have any of your clothes in it."

"Oh! Yeah, they're still in my car."

"I called the hospital earlier, and they said Jim was still in surgery.

Has there been any more word?"

Shaking his head, Blair stared at the floor.

Standing, the large Captain put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Look, I'm

going to go and get us some coffee." Picking up the shirt that Blair had

dropped to the ground, he questioned Blair. "Sandburg, what should I do

with this shirt? You can't just leave it on the ground."

"Just put it in the trash, Captain. Please."

"Are you sure?" As Blair nodded, the large man stode away to find coffee

and a trash can.

A few minutes later, Simon came back in carrying two large cups of coffee.

As he handed one to Blair, the young man barely acknowledged that he was

even aware of what was going on around him. Before he could say anything,

though, a man wearing scrub greens streaked in various places with blood

came in.

"Are you here for Detective Jim Ellison?"

"Yes," both Blair and Simon said at the same time. Blair stood up and

walked over to the doctor. "How is he?"

"Detective Ellison is in recovery right now. Then he'll be put in ICU,

probably for at least a few hours. We got the bullet out. Fortunately,

there doesn't seem to have been much nerve or tissue damage, but he will

have to do some physical therapy before he regains full use of his arm.

The worst thing was the blood loss. If he'd been found much later, well,

he would have bled to death. Anyway, he should be in his room by later

this evening. He'll be out of it for quite a while, what with the blood

loss and medications we have him on."

"Er, did you have any problems during surgery, Doctor?"

"Why do you ask, Mr, er...."

"Sandburg. I was just curious. Detective Ellison has a history of

reacting different than most people to medications of various kinds, as

well as to anesthetics."

"Ah! Perhaps that explains it, then. Yes, we did have trouble keeping the

detective under. It took a while to get the right combination of drugs

that seemed to work. We'll watch him closely for any reaction to the

antibiotics and pain medication he's on, now."

"Could I see him, Doctor? Please? It's important."

"Well, as soon as he's moved to ICU, family can visit for five minutes out

of every hour. But I assure you, he's doing well, and is in stable

condition. He wouldn't even know you were there."

Smiling faintly, Simon said under his breath, "You might be surprised."

Blair spoke, using his best puppy dog expression. "Look, doctor. I'm the

closest thing he's got to family. And I really think it would help him for

me to be with him as much as I could."

The doctor sighed, looking down at the young man. "All right. I'll let

the ICU nurses know. But it's still just five minutes out of each hour."

"Thanks, doc."

"I'm just glad I had good news. Gentlemen." As the doctor left the

waiting room, Simon and Blair looked at each other. Their relief at the

news about Jim could be seen quite easily in each other's eyes.

"Blair, look. Why don't you go home, take a shower and change clothes,

then come back?"

"No, Simon. I'm staying right here."

"I thought you'd say that," the large man muttered. "Well, I'll be back

later tonight, Sandburg. Take care of him for me."

Grinning up at the captain, Blair agreed. "Aye, aye, sir." He saluted.

"Smart ass kid," Simon grinned himself, and left.

Heaving a large heartfelt sigh, Blair sat down heavily, put his head in his

hands, and whispered under his breath, "Thank God. Thank Goddess. Thank

You, whoever You are." Tears rolled silently down his face as he wound

down.

**********

Several hours later, Captain Simon Banks entered Room 217, taking in the

sight before him with a slight shake of his head. Jim was lying, very pale

and quiet, in the hospital bed. He was surrounded by various machines,

each letting out little sounds and beeps. He had an IV in his arm, and

looked very ill. Blair Sandburg sat close by the Sentinel's side, his head

lying on the bed, his hand resting on Jim's arm. The captain cleared his

throat.

Blair sleepily raised his head. As his vision cleared, he acknowledged the

large man. "Hey, Simon," he said quietly.

"How's he doing, Sandburg? Has he regained consciousness yet?"

"No, sir. Not yet. But the doctor says that it isn't unusual. He did

lose a lot of blood, and he's bound to be very tired and weak. What with

these drugs they're pumping into his system, it's hard to tell exactly when

he'll wake up."

"Sandburg, you look like shit. You really need to go home and get some

sleep. I'll sit with him for awhile, if you like."

"No way, Captain. I'm not budging until Jim's outta here. I mean, how

many times has he sat with me, when I've been the one in the bed? Huh?"

Sighing, Simon agreed. "More times than I want to remember, Sandburg. But

he did take some breaks. At least he'd go home and shower, change and eat.

Oh, and Joel brought your car over. It's downstairs in visitor's parking,

for when you do decide to go home. For one thing, you need to unpack and

put your stuff back in your room."

"Not until Jim tells me to, Captain. I mean, I know why he did what he

did, but, well....I still want to hear him say that he wants me to move

back in."

"I want you to move back in," said a voice, barely recognizable for its

hoarseness and weakness.

"Jim! You're awake, man! All right!"

Simon gave a visible sign of relief. "Ellison. It's good to see you

awake. Don't worry about a thing. The paperwork can wait until at least

tomorrow." Grinning at the man in the bed, Simon let his feelings show

through on his face. He added quietly, "You scared us to death, Jim.

Especially the kid. It's great to have you back." Straightening up and

fixing his face in a solemn mask once more, the captain shrugged off his

sentimentality and added, "Well, I've got to get back to the office. There

are a few things left to do before I can call it a day. Oh, and Jim, you

don't have to worry about Sawyer anymore. He's dead."

"Thank God for that, Captain."

"No, I think it's called 'Thank Ellison that he's such a good shot.' See

you guys." With that, Simon turned and left.

Biting his lip and looking down at his hand, still holding onto his

Sentinel's arm, Blair spoke in a very small voice. "Jim, I, well, I'm

sorry about the other night. I, uh, look, I, uh...."

"Sandburg at a loss for words. A Kodak moment if ever I saw one, and me

without my camera." Jim paused. "Blair, we've got a lot to talk about, I

know. But right now, I'm just so tired, so weak...."

"Jim, look. Go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when

you wake up, unless you don't want me to be."

"No, partner. You're right where you should be, by my side." Jim smiled

at his Guide, and then closed his eyes, letting sleep grab him in it's

gentle clutches.

**********

Blair awoke with a start. He slowly raised his head, and looked around,

unsure where he was. As he took in the hospital room, the memories

flooded back. His eyes took in Jim, who seemed to be resting peacefully.

As if aware of his Guide's contemplation, the Sentinel opened his eyes.

"Hey, Jim," Blair said softly.

"Hey," Jim answered.

"Jim, it's early yet, why don't you go back to sleep?"

"Yeah, I think I will, if you'll get me a glass of water. My throat feels

like sandpaper."

Filling a cup of water from the pitcher by the bed, the young man put in a

straw, then helped Jim to lift his head to take a drink.

"Thanks, partner. Look, I'll probably sleep at least a couple of more

hours. Why don't you go to the loft, take a shower and get something to

eat?"

"I'd rather stay here, Jim. But I will get a change of clothes and a

razor, and see if they'll let me take a shower here. I'll go down to the

cafeteria and get something to eat. Then I'll be back." He smiled at Jim

as the larger man nodded and his lids drooped over his eyes. Within

minutes, the older man was asleep.

**********

When next Jim Ellison woke, the sun was part way up in the sky. Looking

around, he saw his young friend just exiting the bathroom. His hair was

damp, but he was clean-shaven and had changed clothes. Seeing that his

partner was awake, the young man strode up to the bed and sat back down in

the chair by Jim's side.

"Hey, Jim," Blair said quietly. "How do you feel?"

"Still tired, Sandburg, but lots better. When do I get out of here?"

Laughing softly, the young man patted Jim on the shoulder. "Probably not

'til tomorrow, maybe Friday. You lost quite a bit of blood, you know.

They want to make sure that your blood pressure is back up and that your

shoulder is healing properly."

Sighing, the detective reached out with his hand for Blair's. As they

linked fingers, Jim took a breath and began to speak. "Sandburg, er, Chief,

about the other night. The way I reacted to your kiss. God, I'm sorry.

But I really could not figure out another way to get you to leave. If I

had told you that there was some madman out there gunning for me, you would

never have left. Your kiss, well it gave me the idea to react as I did. I

know it hurt you. I'm sorry. I knew, even when I did it, that there was a

good chance that you'd leave Cascade and never look back. I took the

chance of losing you forever, physically, because I knew I had to get you

away from me. I...I wish that there had been another way for me to do that;

maybe there was, but that opportunity presented itself and I grabbed it. I

am so sorry, Blair, that I hurt you. That kiss, oh man! I...."

Looking down at their interlocked fingers, Blair said softly, "I'm sorry,

Jim. About the kiss. I thought, well I hoped, that, well, I....Oh, Hell!

I don't know. I was sure you felt the way that I did. I'm sorry, man. I

didn't mean to place you in a corner like that. I guess I just didn't think

things through."

"No! Oh, baby, no! You've got it wrong! The kiss...I wanted it; I *do*

feel like that about you. I have for sometime. But you know me, I'm not

much good with words. I was afraid to tell you, afraid that you would

reject me. Now, though, I'm glad I didn't tell you. It kept you safe. I'm

just thankful that you didn't leave Cascade, that you didn't leave me

forever. I was so afraid that you had. The other morning, when you came

in...I was at the point that I didn't care whether Sawyer killed me or not.

I was afraid that I had driven you away forever. But when you said that

you weren't going to leave, well, I came back to my senses. If you hadn't

of stopped by, I would probably be dead now. I would have kept on

drinking. As it is, I didn't hear him enter. My senses were dulled

somewhat by the booze; he shot me first, but I had my gun with me, and I am

a pretty damned good shot, even drunk. But his shot wasn't far off the

mark; as soon as I shot him I lost consciousness."

"Oh, God, Jim. What if Taggert hadn't told me? What if he hadn't said

there should be men guarding you? I wouldn't have gone back, at least not

right away. You could have bled to death, you could have...."

"Shh. It's all right, Baby. Normally, the Station would have been alerted

when the officers guarding me didn't check in; it turns out the dispatcher,

well, she was in on it with Sawyer. As was some guard at the prison.

That's how he escaped. Simon, Rafe and Brown figured it all out yesterday.

Everyone else is pretty much in custody, now, and with Sawyer dead,

they're all talking. Trying to cut some kind of deal." The Sentinel's

face grew stern. "I hope they don't get one. They almost ruined both of

our lives; almost killed me in the process. Prison is too good for them."

"Yeah. I agree. But it didn't work. We're together now, aren't we?"

"You bet your dissertation we are, Chief. And as soon as I get out of

here, I'll show you just how much." The large Sentinel grinned lewdly at

his Guide.

"Jii..iim...you're going to have to give yourself some time to recover.

But in the meantime...." Blair leaned forward, softly brushing his lips

across Jim's. Before he could draw back, though, Jim grabbed the back of

his head with his good arm and pulled his partner in close for a

soul-searching, electrifying kiss.

Pulling reluctantly away, gasping for breath, Blair squeaked, "If that's

how you kiss when you're hurt, man I don't think I'll survive when you're

well. But what a way to go." He sighed, and put his head down on the bed

beside his Sentinel; Jim reached up and gently stroked his hair.

"By the way, Pipsqueak, I want you to go over to the loft and unpack. In

my room. Upstairs. Got it?"

Grinning, Blair agreed. "Got it, lover mine. But Pipsqueak? Can't you

come up with a better endearment than that?"

"I'm working on it, Babe. I'm working on it."

**********

Epilogue

Coming slowly awake, Blair Sandburg lay quietly in bed, thanking all the

deities that he could think of. The Sentinel lay by his side. Jim had

come home Thursday afternoon, and Blair had put him promptly to bed. Since

then, he had not let his lover do much more than get out of bed to take a

shower. Blair wanted to pamper him. He brought him his meals in bed. He

borrowed a TV from a friend, and put it up in the bedroom along with the

VCR so that the large man would not get bored. They were both sleeping in

Jim's large bed, but they had not done much more than cuddle and kiss,

although Blair had given Jim a gentle blowjob, at least gentle until Jim

had come, screaming Blair's name. He was healing very quickly, more

rapidly than the average person. Blair wanted to do a few tests to prove

the theory that perhaps Sentinels recovered from wounds much quicker than a

normal person, but he would do them later. Now, all he wanted to do was be

by Jim's side and take care of him. He grinned, and gently extricated

himself from beneath Jim's arm.

Jim stirred at the loss of his Guide. Speaking softly, Blair reassured

him. "Jim, go back to sleep. I'm just going to get up and shower, and get

us some breakfast. Okay?"

"'Kay," Jim murmurred sleepily. "Come back, though?"

"You got it, Big Guy."

Trying to contain his excitement, Blair hurriedly went downstairs. He

quickly showered and finished his morning ablutions, then put on a pair a

red silk boxers. Almost bouncing up and down, he went into the kitchen. He

rapidly made pancakes and bacon, filled a pitcher with orange juice, and

got the coffee to going. Just as he finished, someone knocked on the door.

Striding over to answer it, he got his wallet out and pulled out a few

bills. Thanking the young man at the door, and giving him the money, he

walked back to the kitchen. It took him a few more minutes, but then he

was finished and ready to go back upstairs.

Blair carefully made his way upstairs, weighted down by a heavy tray. He

laid it on the nightstand, and then turned to his mate. "Jim, Jim, you can

wake up now, love."

Jim instantly came awake, and sat up. Blair placed an empty tray on his

lap, put a plate on it, and then began to fill it with pancakes and bacon.

He poured the coffee, and filled a glass with orange juice.

Jim stared at Blair. "Er, Blair, these pancakes, they're, uh, pink. And

they're shaped like, well, like, hearts?"

Blair leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jim's. "Happy Valentine's

Day, love of my life."

"Valentine's Day? Oh, Blair, I completely forgot. I'm sorry, I

didn't...."

"Look, Jim. We're both guys. No sappy shit. Well, unless *I* do it. I

thought the heart shaped pink pancakes were a perfect touch, don't you?"

Jim grinned at the irrepressible anthropologist. "Not bad, Pipsqueak. Not

bad. Now how do they taste?" Jim poured a liberal amount of syrup from

the container that Blair handed him, then sampled the pink cakes. "Wow!

They're great! What'd you put in them?"

"Sorry, Jim. Family secret. From a little old Jewish grandmother of

mine."

As Jim took a huge bite of bacon, his face wore a blissful expression.

"This is great, Chief."

"There's more coming, man."

Blair ran quickly downstairs, and then returned, holding a bouquet of

spring flowers in a vase. "Love you, Jim."

As Jim took hold of the vase, he smiled at the young man. "I love you,

too, Blair. God, how I love you." He laughed. At least you didn't get

roses."

"Nah! Too traditional. But this, now...." Blair turned around, and

reached into a drawer. He pulled out a large red heart shaped pillow, that

said 'Be My Valentine.' "Now, *this* is traditional." He grinned

unabashedly at his friend and lover.

"Thank you, Pipsqueak."

"Jim, I insist that you come up with another...."

"And I insist that you come over here, right now. I want to see just what

those red boxers are hiding."

"Jim, you're still recovering...."

"I feel like a million bucks today, Little One. And I want to make love to

you."

Moving the breakfast tray out of the way, Blair lay down next to Jim. Jim

reached out and carded his fingers through the long curls. "Like silk," he

sighed. Looming over the younger man, Jim touched his lips to Blair's.

The kiss started softly, then grew in urgency and intensity. They had both

waited so long.

Pushing his tongue at the crease where Blair's lips met, he asked for and

received permission to enter. Taking his time, Jim began to explore the

sweet dark cavern of Blair's mouth. He sucked at the full lower lip, and

then touched his tongue to Blair's. With that, the young anthropologist

arched off the bed, groaning. Jim continued his exploration, his tongue and

lips working now on the throat of his small lover. Sucking, kissing and

licking, Jim made his way down to the curve of his Guide's shoulder. As Jim

sucked at the juncture of neck and shoulder, Blair once again arched off

the bed, moaning Jim's name. Leaving his mark on the skin of the small

man, the Sentinel continued his forays of the body of his lover. He licked

and sucked down to the nipples. Laving on the left one, drawing the ring

of silver threaded through the nipple into his mouth, he sucked, pulling

on the ring gently in his teeth. With an abrupt movement, Blair's hips

began to undulate almost uncontrolledly. He called Jim's name, and then

came in several milky spurts. Lying almost boneless beneath the larger man

now, Jim nevertheless continued his assault. He licked his way down the

body of his Guide, slurping and biting, licking and sucking. At last he

came to the groin; Blair's cock had begun to fill again, and once more the

young man began to writhe and moan. Jim pulled the head of his lover's

cock into his mouth, tonguing rapidly at the slit there, lapping at the

remaining ejaculate. Now he moved his mouth down the shaft, taking more

and more into him; relaxing his throat, he took all of the young man into

his moist cavern. He then began to suck and tongue the hot length of his

lover, and then began to mouth fuck his gentle Guide. As he did this, he

lubed up two of his fingers with the come of the young man, and began to

work slowly and gently at the puckered opening of Blair's most private

part. Blair was loose from his previous orgasm, and Jim was soon able to

work two of his fingers into his anus. As he continued to plunder the cock

with his mouth, the fingers worked the same rhythm in and out of his guide,

the muscles squeezing them tightly. Blair's body arched and almost

completely left the bed as he had the most electrifying orgasm he had ever

had in his life. He spurted hot come into the willing mouth of the

Sentinel, who sucked and licked his Guide dry. Then, Blair fell back,

completely still.

"Blair?" Jim called. He took his lover into his arms, realizing that the

young man had lost consciousness. As Blair slowly came awake, Jim soothed

him with gentle kisses.

"Jim?" Blair asked weakly. "Oh my God, Jim! I've never, it's never been

like that. That was the most, the best...words fail me, man."

"At a loss for words again, Sandburg? If I had known that this was what it

took, I'd have tried it a long time ago." Jim chuckled.

"Give me a moment, man. There's payback involved in this, you know."

Blair waggled his eyebrows at Jim seductively.

"Well, I do seem to have this swelling. Not sure what it is, but I'm sure

if you put your mind to it...." Jim smiled sweetly at his young lover.

"You've got it, man. You've got it."

As Blair got his breath back, he began to work on the man he loved. He

kissed and licked, sucked and laved the Sentinel from his mouth down to his

toes. Then he began to work upon Jim's long and thick length, sucking it

into his mouth and tonguing from root to stem. He then reached over to the

drawer of the nightstand; withdrawing the lube he had left there, he began

to oil his fingers and push them back against his opening. He continued to

lick and suck Jim at the same time, so the larger man did not realize what

he was doing. Blair had been stretching himself for two days now, working

at his hole every chance he got. He knew it might not be enough, but he

wanted to do this. Withdrawing his mouth from the hot shaft of his lover,

he lubed it down completely before Jim realized what he was doing. He then

drew himself up, and straddled Jim; putting Jim's cock at his opening,

Blair slowly began to ease himself down upon the larger man.

'Well,' he thought, 'this will either be great, or I'll be a vegetable in a

few minutes.'

Blair continued to ease himself down on the Sentinel; Jim suddenly realized

what Blair was doing when the young man moaned out in pain. Jim's hands

were at Blair's waist, trying to life him off.

"No," Blair said, a note of agony in his voice. "Please, Jim, I want to

try this. If it gets to be too much, I'll...I promise I'll pull off."

Blair continued to lower himself slowly onto the body of his large mate.

Finally, he had taken all of Jim into himself. A few groans still poured

out of him, but as his body began to adjust itself to the length and

breadth of the larger man, a few moans of pleasure began to spill out.

Slowly, he began to move on the shaft of the Sentinel, almost pulling the

entire length out, and then slowly sinking until he was once again filled.

At this point, Jim's mind had turned to putty, and he began to undulate to

the moves of his partner. Soon, both men were gasping, and Blair leaned

forward, capturing Jim's mouth with his own. The slap of skin upon skin

could be heard throughout the loft, and both men were now groaning in

ecstasy. Blair's hand went to his erection, which had initially

contracted, but had now fully expanded again. He pumped in time with the

thrusts of Jim's cock in his hole; when Blair finally reached orgasm, his

cock sputtered and still managed to throw forth a small amount of milky

come over his hand and onto Jim's belly. As the muscles of his anus

clenched and unclenched in time with his orgasm, Jim screamed Blair's name,

and thrust up once, twice, three times hard into the body of his Guide.

Afterwards, Blair fell almost lifeless onto the well-muscled torso of his

Sentinel.

Jim stirred first, bestowing kisses upon Blair. "Oh, baby, that was so,

so....I don't think I've ever felt anything so wonderful, so beautiful in

my life. No one has ever done what you've done for me, Blair. God, I love

you."

"And I love you too, Jim," murmurred Blair against the chest of his love,

his mate. "Forever."

Both men fell into a gentle slumber, their arms and legs entwined.

The End.

Happy (belated) Valentine's Day, all you great Senners, you!!!