Title: "A Matter Of Pride"
Series:
Fandom: The Sentinel
Pairing: J/B
Rating: NC-17
Published: 2001.04.29
Status: Complete
Archive:
Author: Kel
Email: dragonbane4@aol.com
Website: http://www.geocities.com/tyshka/sentinelindex.html

Disclaimers: he characters do not belong to me. They belong to Pet Fly Studios. I am making no money from this; I am doing it for sheer love of the characters and my own personal fulfillment.

Summary: Sam's games and rejections of Blair sends him to the arms of another lover.

Warnings: m/m sex, first time encounter, very slight spoilers for "Light My Fire" and "Vanishing Act"

Notes: slightly episode related; mentions events occuring in "Light My Fire" and "Vanishing Act"





"A Matter Of Pride"
by Kel




Blair had left the station a few hours earlier, with Sam in tow, and Jim had just shaken his head as he watched his Guide sniff after her. He was surprised by the vehemence in his thoughts as he idly wondered what Blair saw in her.

Professionally, Jim didn't have a problem with Sam. She did her job, and did it admirably.

Personally, he detested her. And his dislike of her all stemmed from a beaker full of magnesium flare solution and a two-day-late birthday present.

These were Jim's thoughts as he opened the door to the loft and tossed his keys onto the counter. As soon as he walked in, he turned up his dials and listened for heartbeats. Finding only one, he recognized Blair's almost immediately, the Guide's unique scent confirming the guess. He followed the sound of the heartbeat over to the couch, where he saw a fringe of curly hair laying over the arm of the couch. Sam's scent was nowhere in the loft, and Jim allowed himself a small smile of pleasure. "Hey, Chief."

"Hey, Jim." Blair's voice was devoid of its usual enthusiasm. In fact, he was downright quiet.

Jim's brow furrowed at that. He walked around the couch and found Blair lying full length on it, his chin resting on his arms as he stared into empty space. He waved his hands in front of Blair's eyes, and the Guide rolled over onto his side, swatting away Jim's hand as the Sentinel moved to sit beside him on the couch. "What's the problem, Chief?"

"She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, she loves me not… we're going around here in circles, Jim, and I'm getting dizzy!"

That made little sense to the Sentinel, but yet that was a typical Sandburg answer. "Sam?"

"Yes! She's slammed that window in my face--again--and I don't know what to think anymore! I apologized for standing her up, and I didn't even mean to, then she tries to burn my face off, then she agrees to go out with me again, and then she throws the birthday present back in my face, then she wants it back again and so I go out and buy her something else, and then we go out to dinner and I don't know what I did but she leaves me standing there in the middle of the restaurant and Jim… I don't know what to think!"

*Perhaps that she's a flighty bitch who doesn't deserve you?* Jim thought to himself. "Just don't think about her, then," Jim said simply. He turned Blair around to sit with his back to the Sentinel, and Jim put his hands on Blair's shoulders and started to rub.

He felt Blair relaxing under him almost immediately, and he dialed up again, seeking out the uneven knots under Blair's shirt and skin. His hands were large, hot, and firm against the knots in the Guide's shoulders, and Blair sighed. "Man, where did you learn how to do that?"

"Do what?" Jim asked innocently, using his heightened touch to zero in on the worse of Blair's tension.

"Massage," Blair answered shortly. "Massage at just the right place."

"It's a Sentinel thing," Jim answered with a proud grin. "I can feel it, Blair," he explained. "I just put my hands down, and I can feel the knots under your skin."

"Mmmmhmnnnnnng," was Blair's only intelligible response.

Jim, meanwhile, was about to rocket off the tactile scale. He had dialed himself up to find Blair's tough spots, and now he could feel every shift of the man in front of him, and it was slowly killing him. He never should have done this in the first place, but he could not let his Guide suffer.

Blair shifted to lean back against Jim, and the Sentinel was forced to stretch out on the couch with Blair sitting between his legs. Jim rolled up his sleeves; the loft was getting stuffy and Blair sighed again. His eyes were closed and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

*Is this the look you have when you're making love to her?* Jim found himself wondering as he kept working Blair's shoulders. The small beads of sweat that rolled down the Sentinel's temple felt like boulders to his senses, the heat from Blair's over-tired body like a furnace. Yet all those discomforts were washed away in the ecstatic look on Blair's face.

*Damn,* Jim cursed to himself with his next deep breath. Blair was starting to leak pheromones. On one level, Jim was thrilled that he was reaching Blair ON that particular level, but on another, he was cursing up a storm because there was *no* way that Blair was going to understand Jim's hard-on poking him in the back.

The Guide's body was relaxing against Jim, almost going limp, so good did Jim's hands feel. Gently, Jim slid out from under Blair, and folded his legs as he sat on the floor beside the couch. "There you go, Chief."

"I'm going to hire you as my own personal masseuse," Blair muttered softly. "Those hands and that sense of touch…" He opened his eyes to look at Jim. "I gotta get up, Jim, it's time for dinner."

"Forget it, Chief… besides, didn't you and Sam eat at the restaurant?"

Blair shook his head. "No, she walked out before we did much more than order salads and drinks."

*Bitch,* Jim thought to himself, but was very careful not to say it out loud. "Then just relax. I can call in delivery or I can cook; I do know my way around the kitchen," he reminded Blair.

"Yeah, I know," the Guide said, keeping his eyes closed as his head followed Jim around.

"So relax," Jim said, getting up from the floor and moving into the kitchen. He was careful to keep the noise down to a minimum as he cooked a box of pasta shells and heated up a fragrant Alfredo sauce from the fridge. As the pasta was boiling, Jim cut several slices of bread off the loaf and carefully stored it back in the breadbox, then buttered and toasted two slices for each of them. He drained the pasta and stirred the sauce, and as the toast was browning, he carefully popped the cork on the bottle of white wine in the fridge, and poured two glasses of it. Pulling the bread out of the oven, he set it on the cooling rack to cool as he divided the pasta onto two plates, and ladled sauce over both portions. Tucking the slices of bread on either side of the plate, Jim picked up the plate in one hand and the full wineglass in the other, and carried them into the living room.

Blair was asleep by the time Jim got into the living room with the pasta, but the smell of the food woke him up. "That smells good," he said, squinting against the bright lights.

Jim noticed the squint and made sure the drapes were pulled over the windows and turned out the light as he walked back into the living room with his plate. "Better, Chief?"

"Yeah… you mean we're actually going to break house rules and eat in here?"

Jim nodded. "Unless you prefer the kitchen table," he said, looking over his shoulder.

"No, no… this is fine," Blair said, as he started to eat.

"After you eat, I'll get you something for that headache, but get some food in you first," Jim suggested.

"How did you--never mind, it's a Sentinel thing, right?"

"Right," Jim confirmed, closely watching Blair pick at his pasta. "Eat, Blair."

Blair slowly made a dent in his pasta as Jim watched, eagle-eyed. He kept his plate in his lap, covering the problem that had refused to subside as long as he was around his Guide. He was doubly glad for the dark room.

"Hey, Jim… thanks, man."

Jim shrugged it off. "No problem, Chief. You've done the same for me." Across the small space, he could see the Guide's cheeks flushing red, but said nothing about it as the leaking pheromones increased. He got up and carried his plate out to the kitchen, scraping the last bites into the garbage and stacking the plate and fork in the sink. He brought the bottle back into the room and filled up his and Blair's glasses again.

Blair looked down at the half-finished plate of pasta. "Just stick it in the fridge, Jim, I'll finish it later, I promise."

Jim nodded as he took the plate and put it in a Tupperware container, and then sealed it. "There you go, Chief, just pull it out and warm it up when you're ready. I'm going to go get you something for the headache, just lean back and relax."

He moved quickly down the hallway to the bathroom, and pulled out a washcloth. Letting the water run hot, he searched through the shelves and finally found the aspirin bottle, and shook two out into one of the plastic bathroom cups. Then he wet the washcloth under the steaming water, and wrung it out over the sink. He carried both out to the couch, and handed Blair the plastic cup. "Swallow," Jim instructed, passing him the almost-empty wineglass to wash the tablets down with. "Now, if you're still thirsty, let me know and I'll get you some water. Lay down."

Blair did as Jim told him, and the Sentinel pulled one of the sofa pillows up to cushion Blair's head as he draped the warm cloth over his Guide's eyes. "There you go, Chief; call me if you need me." He sat down on the couch, and Blair's feet moved into Jim's lap. The Sentinel smiled as he flipped on the TV and turned the sound almost off. Blair turned and wriggled on the couch, and finally he sat up, using one hand to hold the hot cloth over his eyes as he turned around and lay his head in Jim's lap instead.

Jim stared wide-eyed down at Blair's cloth-covered face. He could not believe Blair had just put his head in his lap. The Guide's hair brushed against Jim's erection under his tight jeans, and he forced himself not to twitch and disturb Blair's rest. As soon as he'd turned, Blair stilled and his breathing slowed and regulated.

*He trusts you, Jim,* the Sentinel admonished himself. *He trusts you not to take advantage of him and your cock is so hard you can barely think straight!* He let his hand drop, fingers tangling gently in Blair's hair as he stroked. "Mmmhmm," Blair mumbled as Jim stroked. "that feels good."

"You're supposed to be resting," Jim scolded gently.

"I am," came back the soft mutter.

"Usually it entails silence," Jim reminded him, still stroking Blair's hair, wrapping curls around his finger and watching them spring back in place.

"Yeah so? It feels good," Blair kept mumbling. Shortly, though, the mumbles turned into light snores, and Jim smiled. Finally he was sleeping.

He wrapped the fragile Guide in the knitted afghan on the back of the couch and picked him up, cradling Blair against his chest as he moved down the hallway. He nudged the door open with his foot, and breathed in deeply, automatically dialing up to get the full range of Blairscent in the room. He carefully laid Blair on the bed, and took off his shoes, and unbuttoned the flannel shirt. He tossed the flannel aside and pulled the white t-shirt up and over. Blair stirred and grunted, but didn't wake as Jim gently lowered him back to the bed. Jim didn't trust himself to unbuckle Blair's belt and pull off the khakis. Instead, he stood back and just looked down at Blair. His partner's eyes were still obscured, covered by the hot cloth. His hair had spread out around his head like a halo, and the soft light from a lamp in the corner glinted off Blair's nipple ring. Before he knew it, his hand was almost halfway towards touching the nipple ring and the soft skin it pinched and pierced. He jerked it back, sucking air through his teeth as he realized what he'd almost done. He laid the afghan over Blair, making sure to tuck it in around his feet, and left the room before he could do anything else he'd regret.

He dropped onto the couch and stared back at the Jags game on TV. He got up and got a beer, and then sat back down, his body unconsciously leaning into the warmth patterns left by Blair's body. He shook his head as he realized what he was doing. *You are out of your mind. How many women have paraded through Sandburg's bed, and you think you can take up residence there?* he ridiculed himself. *You really are a dreamer, Ellison.*

Jim was concentrating on the Jags game, trying NOT to think about the feel of Blair's head in his lap, the nipple ring that glinted under the lamplight, the warmth of his partner's body. That's why the gentle call of his name jolted him. He dropped his empty bottle onto the floor, and followed the quiet whispers to Blair's bedroom. Blair was still fast asleep, calling out Jim's name in a soft whisper.

:: Blair's dream ::

"Jim! Jim!!" Sweat was running into Blair's eyes as he tried to untie his hands from behind his back.

"Blair!" Jim, too, was struggling to untie himself.

"Blair!" a third voice called out, and Blair looked around to the side.

"Sam!"

Blair looked around in desperation. The cracks in the ground were growing wider by the second, and hot lava was beginning to bubble up between them. Finally, the ropes holding him gave, and he jumped from plate to plate, and as he did that, he realized the problem. Jim and Sam were in opposite directions. And with the rate the cracks were opening up… he could save one of them, but not both. He looked from Sam to Jim, and made his decision in an instant. He turned his back on Sam, sprinting over to Jim and working the ropes from around Jim's wrists. "Jim! Come on, man, we've got to run now!" Jim and Blair took off, and Blair was almost dragging the Sentinel behind him. A plate rocked behind him, shattering, and Jim started to plunge downward-- "JIM!!"

:: end nightmare ::

Blair woke himself screaming Jim's name. As he caught his breath, he became aware of two arms around him, rocking him and holding him down. A voice--Jim's--was talking to him. "Easy now, Chief… easy now, I'm here… calm down, buddy." Jim's hand was back to stroking his hair, petting him. Blair's breath hitched in his chest as he realized how closely he was pressed against Jim.

* * * * *

The whisper of his name aroused Jim more than he could almost bear. He leaned against the doorframe listening, his hand rubbing across his stomach. He turned to leave, but Blair's tossing and turning caught his attention, and the light kept bouncing off the nipple ring. He turned to leave again, when the first scream pierced the silence.

*Shit!* Jim raced to Blair's bedside, crossing the room in two strides, pulling Blair against him as soon as he got there. "Hush now, baby," Jim said, holding him close and rocking. The second scream terrified Jim, because it was deep and heartfelt, and Blair was starting to leak fear. "Easy now, Chief. Easy now, I'm here. Calm down, buddy." He didn't even stop to think that he was holding Blair in his lap, the only thing that mattered to him was Blair and taking care of his Guide. "I'm here now."

He heard the hitched breath in Blair's chest, and he loosened his hold on Blair long enough to look down on him. "You okay, Chief?"

"Jim?" Blair was clinging tightly to him. "Ah, man, Jim! It was a nightmare!"

Jim let out the breath he was holding as soon as Blair recognized him and started talking. The fear scent was lessening with every second, and Jim felt no compulsion whatsoever to let Blair out of his arms. In fact, Blair was leaning back against him, and Jim stretched his legs out to accommodate. "What was, Chief?"

"The dream, man. Whoa. Talk about a nightmare, with a capital N!"

"You want to tell me about it, Chief?"

Blair blushed against Jim's shoulder. "I don't remember it," he fibbed. *Only in excruciating detail…*

Jim knew by the blush that Blair was lying, but as long as he was calm, everything was okay and he wouldn't push. "You want me to stay close?"

Oh did he. He most definitely wanted Jim close. Close as in sharing the same skin close. "If you don't mind… that'd be great."

"No problem at all," Jim said. He was more than happy to serve as a security blanket for his Guide. He kicked off his boots and socks, and slid into bed behind Blair, tucking his large frame between the wall and the Guide, keeping his arm around Blair. "How's that, Chief?"

Blair turned over and hid his face again against Jim's shoulder. "Much better," came the muffled reply. His body was still shaking from the adrenaline rush.

Jim felt the shaking, and slid his hand up Blair's back to stroke his hair. "There we go, Chief. Calm down, it's okay, just go on back to sleep," Jim whispered, consulting his watch. "It's only ten-thirty; you need your sleep."

Blair nodded as he scooted as close as he possibly could to Jim, and the Sentinel spared a brief thought to thank his Protector instincts for pushing his erection away in favor of comforting his Guide. "Hey Jim, you are gonna stay, right? In case it happens again?"

"You want me to stay, Chief?" Jim asked, curiously. He desperately hoped the answer was yes. He really did not want to let go of his partner.

"Yeah, I do, if you don't have any other plans."

"Well, I was thinking about a midnight dip in the University fountain, but this is much better," Jim teased gently. He shifted, and Blair held tightly to keep from falling out of the bed. "Chief, I don't think this is gonna work unless we switch."

"Switch? You want the outside?" Blair started to crawl over Jim, and the Sentinel quickly grabbed him.

"No, no, no, I mean switch beds, because mine's bigger and neither of us will end up on the floor," Jim said sensibly.

Blair's eyes widened in the dark. Jim was offering to let Blair invade his space. "You sure, man?"

Oh yes. Jim was definitely sure. "I wouldn't offer it if I weren't, Chief. Change into your sleepwear, whatever that is, and, uh, meet me upstairs." Jim rubbed the back of his head nervously. "That okay with you?"

"Yeah, man, that's fine!" Blair rolled out of bed, and Jim moved out as well, watching Blair vibrate like a pinball in the small bedroom.

Quietly, Jim closed the door as he climbed the stairs to the bedroom overlooking the loft. *You, my friend, are a masochist,* Jim chided himself as he methodically stripped for bed, leaving on his boxers and V-neck. *An hour ago you're dying to screw his brains out and now that he's had a bad dream you're inviting him to sleep in your bed? You do realize you won't be able to do anything but hold him, right?* Jim nodded to himself; *Yes, I realize that. But he needs me tonight and I can put aside my own needs for his sake.* The little voice shut up then as he heard Blair climbing the stairs. He stopped at the top and looked at Jim, and the Sentinel was struck by how small and waif-like Blair appeared at that moment. For reasons Jim could not fathom, Blair had put on a pair of ugly pajamas with yellow and white blocks on it, and they seemed to swallow him up. He'd tucked his wild hair back behind his ears, and the headache seemed to deepen his eyes and darken the circles under them. His skin seemed whiter from the nightmare and as Jim held out his arms, Blair moved to them. "Make yourself comfortable," Jim whispered as Blair got into bed. Once Blair was in his bed, Jim looked down for a moment, drinking it in before getting in beside him. "See? Better, more room. Nobody hits the floor."

Blair didn't say anything; he was awed by the fact that Jim invited him up here, that Jim cared enough about him to offer his personal space. "Jim… thanks," he said quietly.

Jim shook his head as he situated himself close to Blair. "You're welcome." Blair didn't have to thank him.

Blair curled up against him, needing the security of his large partner close by. Both men jumped when the telephone rang, and Jim sighed, rolling out towards the floor. "Let the machine get it," Blair asked quietly, and Jim nodded.

"Why not, that's why we have it."

"Blair, I know you're home, pick up the phone." Sam's voice echoed through the loft, and Jim growled.

"I'll be right back." Jim thundered down the stairs as Blair curled up around Jim's pillow. He grabbed the phone, and shut himself in Blair's bedroom. "Sam, it's Jim."

"Jim, hey. Is Blair around, I want to talk to him."

Jim gritted his teeth. "He's asleep right now. I'll tell him you called in the morning."

"I need to talk to him now, I wanted to know if he wants to meet me for breakfast."

"I'm not waking him up just for that!" Jim fought to keep his voice level, but frustration was starting to creep in, and he heard Blair's bare feet padding down the stairs as his raised voice floated up them. "I'll tell him in the morning and he'll get back in touch with you then."

"Jim--"

"Good NIGHT, Sam," he said with emphasis, before hanging up on her. Just as he hung up, Blair came in. "I told her you'd call her in the morning, and that I wasn't going to wake you up."

"What'd she want?" he asked, shifting from foot to foot.

"To know if you'd meet her in the morning for breakfast."

Blair sighed. "I don't know, Jim, should I?"

"Only if you woke up in the morning and hell froze over." Jim let his real feelings out before he thought. "I mean, that's your choice to make, Chief."

A small smile crossed Blair's face. "I think I know where you stand," he said softly, turning the smile towards Jim. That smile fell when the phone rang again.

"Yeah?"

"Jim--"

"Sam, I told you, he is asleep, I am not waking him up, and don't call back!" He walked out of Blair's room and slammed the phone down on the cradle, turning down the volume on the answering machine. Then he turned the ringer completely off. "There."

"Jim, what if the station calls?"

"I'll hear it," he reassured Blair. "Remember the ears."

"Oh yeah, duh." Blair yawned. "Can I go back to bed now?"

"Yeah, Chief, I think we both should."

Jim followed Blair up the stairs and into bed, where the Guide promptly curled up around Jim like the Sentinel was nothing but a large teddy bear. Jim was oddly touched by Blair's trust. "Hey, Jim?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I don't think I'm going to call Sam back in the morning, I really don't want to go to breakfast with her."

Jim fought back the smile that threatened to split his face. "I don't blame you one bit, Chief."

"I mean, does she think I'm going to jump every time she yells?"

"Looks that way."

Blair sat up in bed, his back against Jim's chest, his knees tucked under his chin. "Well, I'm not going to do it. I'm a good looking man, Jim, I can find someone else just like that," he said, snapping his fingers. "Someone who's not going to be jerking me around!"

"Yes you can, you always do." Jim was not thrilled with Blair's mention of finding another girlfriend.

"You're damn right, and what the hell, I don't need her, I got you!"

Jim fought the urge to bolt upright. "Yeah, Chief, you do."

"I mean, not every guy has a best friend who'll let him crash in his bed because of a bad dream, right?"

"Right," Jim echoed, sensing that Blair needed this tirade.

"Right! Who needs that merry go round when I got you here and I don't ever have to worry about where I stand!"

"No you don't," Jim confirmed, watching Blair carefully. He knew that the young man was building up to something and he wanted to be ready for it, whatever it was.

"Who needs a woman when I got a guy like you?" With that question, Blair's confidence seemed to crumble, and Jim moved into position, wrapping his arms around Blair's waist. "Why aren't I good enough, Jim? What did I do?"

"Ah, come on, you didn't do anything, Chief! She's the one who tried to burn your face off, remember? That magnesium flare solution? You didn't do anything except miss a date when you were first going out with her, and that's it, buddy, nothing that would make you deserve this!"

"Then why, Jim, why?" He snuffled against Jim's shoulder as he leaned against him.

"I don't know, Chief. Wish I did, but I don't. Just break it off with her altogether, Blair. I mean, you deserve better, and I know there's lots of other fish in the sea out there, if that's what you're looking for."

"I tell you, Jim, it's enough to make a man swear off women!" Blair exploded. "If it's not Sam, it's every other woman I date coming over and--" Blair quickly cut his words off before he went any further.

"And what?" Jim asked.

"And realizing I'm not what they thought," he finished in a hurry. "They come over and find out that I'm a good lay but they can't get anything else off me and then it's sayonara Blair, see you later buddy but we'll still be friends!" He sighed. "Who needs it?" Jim just shook his head mutely, holding onto Blair as the Guide talked. It was the best thing he could offer at the moment. "I mean really, Jim… half those women I've dated didn't even know my last name! And the ones who did didn't care!"

"I care," Jim said softly, too softly for Blair to hear over his ranting. "I know your name."

Blair settled against Jim, as he remained quiet. "Sorry, Jim, didn't mean to rant like that."

"You needed to get it out." Then he paused. "Blair Jacob Sandburg."

"What?" Blair looked up at Jim quizzically.

"Blair Jacob Sandburg," Jim repeated. "Your name."

"Yeah, I know it's my name," Blair said with a half laugh.

"Well… you said that half the women you dated didn't even know your name… but I do," Jim said softly, catching Blair's eyes with his own, gambling.

For a reason he couldn't explain, Blair felt himself flushing. "Jim, I--"

"Blair Jacob Sandburg," Jim said for the third time. "I cared enough to find out."

"James Joseph Ellison," Blair said to Jim, after a moment. "I did, too."

Jim smiled gently. "If you don't call me Joseph, I won't call you Jacob."

"Deal," Blair agreed weakly. Was Jim really saying what Blair thought he was saying? That he cared? "Jim…"

"Yeah?" His fingers had found their way back into Blair's hair, stroking.

"Could you--say my name again?"

Jim nodded, and looked Blair straight in the eyes. "Blair Jacob Sandburg." Jim's voice was soft, yet deep and throaty. "My Blair."

Blair didn't say anything for a moment, just wrapped his arms around Jim and moved into his lap, putting his head under Jim's chin. "My Jim."

Jim was afraid to move, afraid that if he did he'd fright Blair like a deer and send the skittish Guide running back to his bed. Instead, Jim just kept his arms around Blair, using one hand to gently press Blair's head closer to his chest. "Your Jim," he confirmed softly.

It didn't take Sentinel hearing to hear Jim's heart pounding in his chest, and the Guide fought the urge to look up, dreading breaking the moment and seeing the expression on his partner's face. Instead, he took a shallow breath and confirmed Jim's statement, just as Jim had confirmed his. "Your Blair."

At that, Jim's arms tightened involuntarily around Blair. Still though, he didn't say anything, instead lowering himself and the Guide back to the bed, and pulled the sheet and blanket up after them. "Rest now," Jim said, in the same throaty voice. He propped his head on his hand as he looked down at Blair's face, the Guide's closed eyes and soft lips as he turned onto his side and scooted back against Jim. Jim pulled the blanket up a little higher, over Blair's shoulders, and let his arm fall around Blair's waist. He watched his partner fall into a deep sleep as he listened to the muted machine answer three more of Sam's phone calls before he fell asleep beside his Blair.

* * * * *

In the morning, Blair's shifting and pulling a pillow over his head wakened Jim. He looked at the clock and saw why; it was almost a full hour before Blair usually woke up and the sun hit the loft bed early. He took out his earplugs, listening to Blair's muffled breathing and heartbeat, and both were calm. The blanket was twisted around Blair, exposing his ugly pajama top, and Jim ran his hand up Blair's back, feeling for telltale tension knots. There were none, and Jim de-tangled the sheets and draped them back over Blair as he rolled out of bed. The Guide immediately rolled into the hot spot left by Jim's body and grabbed the Sentinel's pillow, tucking it under his head. He heard the dream-soft mumble. "Five more minutes, Mom."

Jim didn't let himself laugh until he got downstairs. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it into the downstairs hamper as he went into the kitchen and started breakfast. He put two slices into the toaster and pushed the lever down, and then looked at the answering machine. 5 new messages. He hit play, and listened to each one as he snagged clean sweatpants out of the basket by the stairs and slipped into them.

"Jim! You have no right to hang--" *Erase.*

"Blair, it's Sam, Jim says you're asleep but--" *Erase.*

"Blair, it's Sam, I wanted to say I'm sorry about walking out on you at the restaurant." That one Jim left for Blair to hear. He loved the fact that there was no other explanation, just "sorry buddy."

"Jim Ellison, I know Blair's not asleep at this time--" *Erase.*

"Jim--"

*Erase.* Then he turned the volume back up to normal and turned the ringer back on. He opened the refrigerator and rooted through the contents, looking for and finding one of the green blocks of stuff that Blair put into his morning shakes. Not that Jim ever drank them, but he'd watched Blair enough to know how to do it. Pulling out the blender, he dumped in the green block and the other ingredients, and blended it until it looked like milky grass. *How you drink this stuff, Chief, I will never know.* He put the blender base back up in the cabinet and put the pitcher up in the fridge as he buttered the toast that just popped up. He took a couple of eggs and started them to boil. Although he wouldn't admit it, he was starting to like the way Blair boiled the eggs, and more often he found himself switching from fried to boiled. He pushed the automatic button, and the coffeepot started to brew coffee.

He watched over the eggs as he pulled out bacon and started to fry several slices, and that's what brought Blair down in a fit.

The smell of toast toasting smelled great to Blair as he woke up. The coffee smelled even better, and he sat up, realizing that he'd slept in Jim's bed last night. And that Jim had called him "my Blair." *Get a grip, Sandburg,* the little voice started, but he cut it off in his head. *No! I won't listen to you any more! He called me his Blair, he does want me, he just doesn't know it yet!* Then he smelled the frying bacon, and bolted up out of bed, taking the stairs two at a time. "Jim! I can smell that greasy fatty bacon all the way upstairs."

"Don't worry, Chief, I'm cooking enough for both of us."

"No way, man! You might as well just take a needle and shoot the cholesterol into your arteries!"

"Chief, do I tell you that you look like a rabbit munching on that green stuff?" he questioned as he continued to fry the bacon. "If it makes you feel any better, it is turkey bacon."

"My green stuff doesn't give you a heart attack two seconds after you eat it either!" Blair kept fussing over Jim's breakfast choices.

Jim walked over to the fridge and pulled out the blender pitcher. "Here, now be quiet about my bacon, please, I'd like to have breakfast."

Blair sniffed the pitcher. "You made this?" It smelled great.

"Yes, I made it," Jim said testily. "What, you think that just because I don't drink it I don't know how to make it? God knows I've watched you concoct it enough." He moved the crispy bacon to a paper towel, which immediately went transparent from the grease. "Drink and be merry." Jim pulled the eggs off the burner and drained them, his hands making quick work of peeling them as he watched Blair pour a glass out of the blender pitcher.

"I'll eat that bacon if you'll drink one of these," Blair offered.

Jim rolled his eyes. "No thanks, Chief, I'd rather not graze this morning."

"Ooh, eggs," Blair said, reaching for one of the steaming eggs as Jim put the plate on the table. "Firm boiled too, great!"

Jim snorted as he put the toast on the table, followed by the coffeepot. "Just leave my tip under your plate," he said dryly. "I take it my breakfast passes muster?" Blair was too busy cramming toast into his mouth to answer. He hadn't realized he was so starved until he smelled the good food. Jim helped himself to several slices of bacon under Blair's disapproving eye, and then he looked up. "Hey, you got a message." He got up and played Sam's message for Blair.

Blair poured a cup of coffee as Sam's message played, and then poured one for Jim, handing it to the Sentinel as he sat down. "Well, wasn't that nice of her," Blair said, dismissing her without a second thought; he didn't need her, he had Jim now. "So what made you cook breakfast this morning?"

"Hunger," was Jim's short reply. "I don't know why I was so hungry this morning when I woke up, but I felt like I hadn't eaten all day."

"Me too," Blair echoed. "Man, I'm glad you don't have to go in today."

"I don't?" Jim was surprised.

"No, you don't, remember you traded working Valentine's weekend with Brown for this weekend off?" Blair reminded him.

"Oh yeah! I'd forgotten."

"Yeah, I figured you had when I woke up and you had gotten up at your usual crack of dawn time."

"Sorry." Jim was not used to sleeping with someone else, and yet he knew, he wouldn't be able to sleep again without Blair in his bed. He paused in mid-chew when that thought hit him. How was he going to keep Blair in his bed?

"Don't be, man, it's okay." Blair looked at him, noticing Jim's stricken look. "You okay, Jim?"

"Yeah, fine, why?" He started chewing again, his mind whirring. "You gonna call her back?"

"Who, Sam? Nah, not gonna bother. I mean, why should I? Like I said last night, I don't need someone like her when I got someone like you."

Jim hid his blush behind his coffee cup. "Thanks, Chief," he mumbled. He really did not know what to think; did Blair really mean it, or was he just talking about friends? "Hey, uh, you want the first shower? But if you use all the hot water, I'll kill you." He forced his hand not to shake as he put down the coffee cup. "I'll clean up the dishes, don't worry."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Blair said, grabbing the last slice of toast on his way out.

"Watch the crumbs!!" Jim shouted as he watched his friend walk out. As soon as he did, he did something that he would have yelled at Sandburg for. He dumped all the plates together in the sink, and ran to the window, looking down. Yep, the flower cart was still there. He pulled a clean shirt over his head, pulling it out of the same basket the sweatpants had come out of. He listened for the water to cut on, and as soon as it did, Jim stuck his feet into his loafers, sprinted out the door and down the steps. He had exactly five minutes to accomplish this.

He was down the flight of steps in a minute thirty, a personal record. He took the steps two at a time and swung over the last four on the railing. He wove quickly through the light traffic and over to the flower cart, buying two single red roses, paying with a twenty and leaving the change with a very surprised vendor as he sprinted back through traffic again, and pounded up the stairs to slam the door with thirty seconds to spare. *Damn you're good, Ellison,* he congratulated himself. One rose he put in the fridge to keep it fresh, and the second he carried stealthily to Blair's bedroom and laid it carefully on top of the clothing that Blair had left out on the bed. He heard the water shut off, and he quickly tiptoed back into the kitchen, stripping the shirt off and kicking his shoes back by the door. He was finishing clearing off the table and wiping off the counter as he heard Blair go into his room.

Blair was busy scrubbing his hair dry with a towel as he walked into his room, and the sight of the rose on his bed didn't register until he dropped the towel around his shoulders and looked down. *It had to be Jim!* he thought to himself. A thrill shot through his body, making him tremble. He dropped the other towel from around his waist, and got dressed in the faded and ripped jeans on his bed, smiling a second at how tight they were. They were snug in all the right places; Blair considered these jeans part of his date-wear when he wanted to show off. He pulled the white t-shirt over his head, and left the flannel shirt lying on the bed as he picked up the rose and padded in bare feet out to the kitchen. He walked quietly, laying his feet flat with each step and eliminating the slap on the floor as he regulated his breathing, making it shallow and quiet. The only thing he could not do anything about was his heartbeat, which threatened to pound out of his chest the closer he got to Jim.

The Sentinel heard the thudding of a heartbeat behind him, but nothing else. He guessed from the silence that Blair had found the rose and was deciding on his reaction. Indecision froze the big man, and suddenly he felt vulnerable as he stood at the sink dressed only in sweatpants.

Blair saw the stiffening of Jim's shoulders, and reached out with the long-stemmed rose, touching the soft petals to Jim's back, trailing the bud down his spine.

Jim whirled at the touch of the flower on his skin, and he put his hands on the counter behind him for support as Blair smiled softly at him. "Thank you," he said, moving close to Jim and kissing him, keeping his hands on the big man's as he leaned in. "Thank you for the rose."

Jim's instinct was to growl, pounce and roll his Guide, and then make feverish love to him as soon as Blair's lips touched his. But he felt Blair's hands on his, restraining him, and he fought down his instincts, waiting to see what the younger man wanted.

After the kiss, Blair moved his hands from Jim's and stepped back, carefully placing the rose on the counter as he looked at Jim. *It's in your court now, Jim,* Blair pled with his eyes.

In two steps, Jim crossed to where Blair was and wrapped his arms around the Guide's waist. He breathed in his scent, and then with one motion picked him up and swung him around, sitting him on the counter as he let his hands start moving. One of the holes in Blair's jeans was at the knee, and Jim slipped his hand inside it, stroking Blair's knee and thigh as highly as the tight fabric would permit. His other hand moved to the collar of the white shirt, and pulled, ripping the flimsy fabric in half.

But before Jim could do anything else, someone knocked on the door. "Ignore it," Blair whispered, his mouth nuzzling Jim's ear. Part of him was afraid that if Jim did stop, he'd never start again. Jim nodded, beyond rational thought as his senses and his arms were full of Blair. But the person at the door wouldn't go away, only knocking harder. "Damn. Jim… Jim!" he said, loudly enough to get the Sentinel's attention. "Go get dressed… jeans… shirt…," he explained, seeing the irrationality in Jim's eyes. "I'll deal with the door." Jim nodded, and then snarled as he took a deep breath. He knew that scent; a bitch in heat, after his mate. Blair whirled when he heard the snarl. "Jim?"

"Protect," was all the Sentinel could come out with. "Protect mate." He was fighting to think rationally, but he was too full of Blair.

Now Blair was worried. "Just a minute!" he called to whomever was at the door, and then helped Jim upstairs. The further he got from the door, the more rational he seemed to be acting. "Jim?"

"Sam's at the door," he gritted out, pulling off his sweats and putting on a pair of jeans. He was NOT thrilled with her timing.

"I'll get rid of her, Jim." He stopped the Sentinel from putting on a shirt.

"No, Chief, we'll get rid of her and then go back to what she interrupted," he said with a deep growl.

Blair was secretly flattered that he brought that urge out in Jim; he knew how hard the Sentinel worked to repress it. "No growling at her, Jim," he admonished, walking down the stairs with Jim in tow, and opened the door.

"Blair, I--am obviously interrupting something," Sam said, taking in the ripped shirt and the half-torn jeans.

Jim came up behind him and looked at Sam, pulling himself to his full height to tower over her. "I don't appreciate your attitude last night," he said, only a hint of a growl in his tone. "I told you he was asleep and not to call back, and you didn't; you were rude and I don't like rude people."

"I know Blair was not asleep at eleven o'clock last night."

"Yes he was, and in my bed too," Jim said, smiling triumphantly at the look on her face. "He was having a migraine and I put him to bed upstairs so someone's incessant phone calls wouldn't wake him up."

Two small spots of red jumped up into Sam's cheeks as Jim told her off. "I did not call incessantly."

"Sam, I talked to you twice and you left three messages that I know of before I went to sleep, I'd say five times in an hour is incessant."

Blair snickered and looked back at Jim. "She really called five times while I was asleep?"

"Seven, if you count the other two messages she left after we both went to sleep," he said, running his fingertips under Blair's shirt, out of Sam's sight. Blair almost jumped when Jim touched him with hot hands.

"Man, I'm glad I was sleeping it off last night," Blair said, shaking his head and leaning back against Jim's hand. He started to put more and more weight against Jim, seeing if the Sentinel would hold him up or not. Jim's arm didn't even buckle.

"Me, too," Jim said, rubbing Blair's back as he held him up, sliding his hand down a bit lower with each rub. "Especially after dinner, you looked like you needed it."

Sam crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. "Blair, I'm still here," she said.

"Yeah, so I noticed," the young man said, smirking at her. "Why?"

"I thought you were going to call me back and meet me for breakfast. Didn't you get my messages?"

"Yeah, and I didn't care. I've had enough, Sam, and I don't need you anymore." He turned around, putting his back to Sam and looping his arms around Jim's neck as he kissed his Sentinel. Jim kissed him back, his hands going to the small of Blair's back and holding him tightly. Blair's hands slipped down Jim's side, and Jim let his hands move to stroke Blair's firm ass through the thin tight denim. He squeezed gently, using the handholds to lift the Guide slightly, and Blair moaned quietly.

"Yeah, well, I get the picture, no more demonstrations needed," Sam said, turning on her heel and walking away. Jim barely had the presence of mind to slam the door before ripping Blair's shirt the rest of the way off, then slamming him against the door.

Blair oofed as Jim pinned him to the door, but stopped protesting as soon as Jim started using his body to stroke Blair's. Jim's hands were still gripping Blair's ass tightly, and he squeezed rhythmically, kneading his partner's--lover's--firm cheeks as he lifted him again, and kissed him again.

This kiss was hard and demanding, and Jim's tongue pushed it's way through to stroke Blair's, nibbling his Guide's lower lip as his tongue laved it. He absorbed every taste, every scent that threatened to overwhelm him and loved every second. Jim felt himself teetering on the brink of overload, and he let go, trusting Blair to jerk him back when he was needed. His mouth moved from Blair's mouth to his chin, down his jaw to his throat. He licked and nipped the pulse pounding in Blair's throat, using his teeth and his lips to break the skin and mark the pulse, sucking to soothe the pain. He moved down, down to the Guide's Adam's apple, which bobbed frantically. Jim nipped it, kissing and sucking it as Blair panted. "Clothes," Blair managed to get out, and Jim backed off long enough to let Blair slide out of his jeans. Then he dragged his mate back into the kitchen, sitting the now-naked Guide on the counter and kissing his chest, sliding his hands over Blair's stomach and thighs. He moved his mouth to the pierced nipple, sucking it and tugging on the ring with his tongue as his fingers rolled and pinched the other nipple into matching hardness.

Blair shifted on the cold countertop, and Jim growled as the nipple he was sucking on was pulled away from his hungry mouth. He moved closer, pinning Blair between his body and the cabinets, and licked his lover's shoulder, nuzzling the small hollow between neck and shoulder blade.

Blair's hands went to Jim's shoulders, burning his skin as they touched him. Jim growled again, and his licks intensified as Blair shuddered against the sensations of Jim's rough tongue against his skin. "I need you," Jim gritted out, barely able to speak. "Now. Always."

"You can have me," Blair whispered, "Now and always, as long as you want me, I'm yours."

Jim nipped Blair's shoulder, his teeth leaving small crescents as he chuffed. "Bed," was all the Sentinel could choke out. The need for possession of his mate, now that Blair had consented, was riding him hard. Blair had agreed to be his mate, his lover, his partner, just his, and the need to posses him, touch him, taste him, smell him, hear him, see him almost killed him. His senses needed to be full of Blair.

Blair smiled as he slipped off the counter. "The bed?" he questioned, and Jim nodded. "Close your eyes then," Blair said, and headed towards the stairs. Jim waited until his lover was over to the stairs, and then opened his eyes. Gauging the distance, Jim loped in lazy strides over to the bottom of the stairs, arriving just as Blair reached the halfway mark on the staircase. He sniffed once, catching the scent of Blair's arousal and his lope quickened, taking the stairs two and three at a time, tackling and rolling his mate at the top of the stairs.

"Jim!" Blair cried out, hitting the hard floor with Jim's weight on top. Immediately, Jim's hands touched and roamed, checking for injury. Finding none, he nuzzled Blair's neck, and the rumble in his chest sounded like a purr. He used his hands to gently push Blair towards the bed, and Blair quickly got the idea, and Jim rolled him onto the softness of the bed. "Better," he said with a smile, and Jim kissed him, hard.

Primitive thoughts filled Jim's mind as he tasted the arousal in Blair's kiss. It tasted earthy, spicy and delicious. His mouth moved lower, and Blair arched up to meet the roaming mouth. The closer Jim got to Blair's erection, the stronger the taste became until finally his tongue lapped at Blair's shaft. His mouth wrapped around it, sucking it, nibbling it, his hands kneading the area around Blair's cock as he sucked it. He sucked it down as deeply as he could, his tongue working, lapping and searching for the source of the taste he craved. Blair was crying out, wordless bleats and whimpers as Jim's rough tongue laved him.

Jim's ears pricked as he heard Blair's cries. He stopped kneading and looked up. His mate's hands were fisted in the sheets of the bed, his back arched to almost breaking. Jim reached up and slid his arms along Blair's sides, pulling Blair's hands down to his head, and they immediately locked into the short strands of Jim's hair. Jim chuffed once in approval, and he moved his tongue down lower, licking along the gentle tissue that surrounded his lover's opening, and then gently thrust his tongue inside.

Blair's legs tightened around the side of his head as he pulled at Jim's hair, almost yanking handfuls of it out, so intense was the feeling of Jim's tongue inside him. Jim growled as he felt his mate twisting and turning beneath him, and reared up again.

Blair's eyes were screwed shut, his hands had dropped out of Jim's hair and had dug into his thighs. The cock Jim had recently abandoned was throbbing and leaking, and he rubbed his cock quickly against it, wetting it in the leaking fluid. He lifted his hand to his mouth, licking the leakage off them and wetting them as he pressed one inside his lover. He twisted it and turned it, against the motion of Blair's thrusting hips. He growled as he felt Blair pushing down, and the growls got louder and louder, overpowering Blair's moans as he felt the Guide's muscles tightening and pulling his fingers inside, first one and the second and third as Jim added them.

Blair's hands clawed at Jim's shoulders, scoring them with red furrows as he began to beg for his lover to take him. "Fuck me, Jim, come on, please, man, fuck me now, make me yours, come on!"

The urgency, the smell of desperation hit Jim's sensitized system like electricity, and it jolted his entire being. He heard Blair's voice crying out to be filled, and he roared as he thrust into his lover for the first time. The heat of Blair's body wrapped around him as he slid deep, and Blair's scream echoed under Jim's roar as the Guide's over-stimulated cock shuddered and came. Jim roared again as Blair clenched tightly around him, and Blair's arms wrapped around him, hands digging into Jim's broad shoulders as he started to thrust.

Blair's nails dug in like claws as he rode out Jim's thrusts. Jim's head tossed back as his hands gripped Blair's waist tightly, pulling his Guide's body down to bounce off his groin. He felt the marks on his back being opened by Blair's nails and he didn't care; with each claw mark, it marked him as belonging to his wolf-mate, and it pleased him to carry the marks. He thrust harder and harder into Blair, his mate rocking up to receive each thrust. The arousal scent was filling him again, and he could hear the blood pounding in Blair's throbbing cock. It was hard again, and Jim's paw wrapped around it, sliding over his hip to grip it tightly, before stroking it with a velvet palm. His nails trailed up and down as he pumped, leaving light red scores.

Blair's moans had turned into screams of pleasure when Jim's paw wrapped around his cock, and Jim's roars met each scream and thrust. The entire bed was shaking, Blair's head was twisting and his hair was flaring as Jim rocked into him, over and over again. The roars turned into snarls as he felt a quickening in Blair's body, a tightening around his cock. His hand stroked harder and faster, almost a blur as his hips slammed into his lover, pounding over and over again until finally, Blair's voice screamed one last time, his back arching and then falling as Jim roared into the echo. His cock almost burst inside the furnace of his mate's body, spilling his seed and marking his territory, over and over again with hard thrusts.

Blair's seed burned as it spilled onto Jim's furiously-stroking hand, and Jim growled as he licked it clean, and then lowered his head to lick and nuzzle the softening cock of his mate as it shuddered out its last spurts. Blair was very still in Jim's arms, his breathing shallow and his heart pounding. After cleaning the seed from Blair's body, he curled up beside his lover with his head resting on Blair's stomach, occasionally butting Blair's arm with his head, urging him to wake. He did not have long to wait, and as soon as Blair came back into consciousness, he rubbed his cheek against his Guide's. "You okay?" Jim whispered hoarsely, his throat raw and sore.

Blair tried to move, but the weight of his lover combined with the aches and pains of his body prevented him. "think so," he said, his voice as throaty as Jim's. "damn," was the only other comment that he could make.

Jim smiled lazily at his new mate, his fingers running over the nip marks and the suction marks on his lover's throat. As he registered what they were, however, Jim's modes switched almost immediately. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, fear and revulsion skittering across his features as his hands slid across his lover's body.

Blair struggled to sit up. "Jim, no, no, you didn't! It's nothing that a hot shower won't cure!" He looked at the fading crescents on his shoulder, and pointed them out to Jim. "Look, skin's not even broken!" Then he pointed to the lazy smile that he couldn't keep off his own face, even after reassuring Jim. "Look at the smile, big guy, I wouldn't be smiling if I was hurt!" His fingers kept running over the marks on his throat.

Jim blew the deep breath he'd just taken out through his teeth. The intensity of their mating surprised him; he hadn't even realized how easy it had been to slip into primitive mode, or back into Blessed Protector mode when he thought he'd hurt his lover. He moved his shoulders, and hissed as the scratches and welts on his back reported in. He turned to show the scratches to Blair. "How do they look?" he asked, pride swelling at the proof of his mate's acceptance.

Blair raised an eyebrow. He'd drawn blood, but apparently it hadn't bothered Jim. He raised his hand, running them over the open scratches, and then something hit him. "Jim, come on… we got to clean those up, and I got something that's perfect for it," he said, ignoring the dull ache in his ass and the other little aches as he grabbed Jim's arm. "Jim, come on!" he said, when the Sentinel wouldn't move.

Reluctantly, Jim got to his feet. "Blair, calm down! They're just scratches!"

"Yeah, that could get infected and introduce who knows what into that hyperactive system of yours!" Blair dragged Jim into the bathroom, and sat him down on the toilet seat. "Stay here," he said, running down the stairs and going into his room to retrieve the small aloe plant he'd been growing, just in case. He carried the small potted plant up the stairs and back into the bathroom as Jim rolled his eyes. But he said nothing as he let his lover tend to him.

"After this, you're going to let me give you that hot bath… a trade," Jim said, as Blair leaned over him to wet a washcloth. He nibbled Blair's earlobe as it passed him.

"All right, just let me take care of you first," Blair countered. He used the wet cloth to swab off the scratches, and once the smattering of dried blood was wiped away, the scratches were small and red, but not puffy or hot to the touch. He took one of the aloe leaves and broke it, dripping the cooling sap onto the scratches. Jim sighed, and Blair smiled. "Feel good?"

"Oh yeah," Jim said, closing his eyes. The sight of so much bare Blair skin was close to driving him over the edge again. He felt Blair's fingers massaging the aloe in, and he sighed once more. "You can just keep doing that."

Blair laughed. "I'll owe you a back rub later." Jim opened his eyes as Blair sat the cloth on the sink, and looked down at his shoulder. "I'll check them in the morning, and if they're fine then, they should be fine. And I'm sorry."

Jim caught Blair's wrist as he tried to turn away. "Don't be sorry; I'm not. I'm proud of those, Blair, because I know what they mean. It means that you accepted me as your mate, forever." He kissed his lover's palm. "I'm just sorry that I hurt you."

"Jim, you didn't hurt me," Blair said, dropping to sit in his lover's naked lap. "You gave me a couple of hickeys--nothing I haven't had before, believe me--and that's it! Yeah, I'm a little sore from my back almost breaking, but hey, you can't tell me you don't have a few little aches and pains of your own," he countered swiftly, sensing the Sentinel's protest.

Which died in his throat as he listened to Blair. "Okay, you made your point; you're just as proud of your marks as I am of mine." He snuggled Blair close. "I love you."

"Oh, man, Jim… I love you, so much!" Blair wrapped his arms around Jim, careful of the scratches. "You're what I've always been looking for." He felt Jim stirring beneath him, but did not want to move out of his lover's lap.

Jim held Blair close, his mind spinning with many new thoughts. "You're what I've always needed," he said softly. He got up, and as Blair wrapped his legs around his waist, Jim supported him and carried him over to the shower. He reached around the armful of Guide and turned on the hot spray, leaning Blair against the wall and kissing him as the water started to cascade down around their intertwined bodies.

As the water slid down Blair's frame, Jim's hands slid over it as well, balancing his Guide against the wall of the shower as he gently massaged sore kinks that his touch found. With each gentle touch, Blair moaned quietly into Jim's mouth as the Sentinel barely broke their kisses. "You okay?" Jim whispered.

"Excellent, man," Blair whispered back, resting his chin on Jim's shoulder as the hot water hit his face and ran through his hair. He used his heels to rub Jim's back, and then slid his legs sensually down Jim's hip and legs as he stood under his own power. He was thankful for the wall at his back, helping his shaky legs support himself.

Jim's hands came up with a bottle, sliding the nozzle up Blair's side and heading towards his head. The Guide shivered as he felt the light tickle, and then the feel of the shampoo as it pooled in his hair and ran through the strands. Jim's hands came up to massage the shampoo into a deep lather, his strong fingers kneading Blair's scalp. The Guide closed his eyes, moaning again at the feel of strong fingers sliding through soapy strands.

Jim turned Blair around, the spray rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and running down his shoulders. He kept running his fingers through his lover's hair, rinsing and kneading until the water ran clear. Taking the soap in his hands, he rubbed them briskly together and lathered them well. He ran soapy hands over Blair's shoulders and through the curls on his chest. He ran his hands over Blair's stomach, his groin, even kneeling down to gently massage his thighs and calves.

Blair's hands caught desperately at his shoulders, pulling him up into a kiss as Blair's soapy body rubbed against Jim's, covering them both with foamy lather. Jim steered them both into the shower, rinsing them both off as their mouths remained locked together, tongues stabbing and dancing as their bodies undulated together in the water, both men's erections quickly surging again. Jim's hands reached down and lifted Blair's bottom, urging the other man to wrap his legs again around his waist. Blair obliged, and gasped when he felt Jim's fingernail scraping lightly over his exposed opening, and then sliding in on a cushion of lather and soap. The gasp and the tightening of muscles sent another surge of blood through Jim's veins, bringing his erection to readiness as he supported Blair against him. His finger stroked roughly, and Blair's teeth dug into his lip as the head of his cock butted against his tight opening, and then slid in.

Blair cried out as Jim's thickness penetrated him, and he gripped Jim tightly with his newly discovered inner muscles. Their bodies slithered against each other under the water as Jim's thrusts rocked them both. The Sentinel pulled his mate down against him with each thrust into the welcoming heat. Jim's teeth gently worried Blair's earlobe, his tongue tugging the hoops there as Blair's lips grazed his shoulder and throat. He could feel the pulsing heat of Blair's cock throbbing between their bodies, and Jim leaned forward, trapping it against his rippled stomach so that the length rubbed along the defined muscles.

Blair's chant of Jim's name was muffled against the Sentinel's throat, but the puffs of hot breath against Jim's throat were enough to urge him on. His thrusts into Blair became harder and faster, and his kisses to Blair's neck and face more insistent. His mouth locked onto the skin behind the earlobe, sucking hard as he rocked his hips, pushing himself into his lover. The strokes became shorter and faster, Blair's mouth moving on his neck, begging to cum, begging for Jim to cum inside him.

Jim's hands gripped Blair's hips tightly, red marks forming already around his fingers as he felt his lover's seed spilling onto his stomach. The contractions of Blair's sheath around Jim's cock pulled his orgasm out with a loud cry of his lover's name. "Blair!"

Blair trembled in Jim's arms as Jim's shuddering cock filled him. "Jim… God, I love you, man," Blair whispered as Jim barely gathered the strength to reach around and redirect the spray to rinse them off. "Sorry I waited so long to tell you."

Jim handed Blair out of the shower and then climbed out after him, sitting down on the toilet and bringing Blair down on his lap. "I love you too, Blair, and I took just as long as you did," he said quietly, grabbing the nearest towel and scrubbing his Guide dry. Blair returned the favor, pulling the towel out of Jim's hands and drying him off next. He looked at his watch, lying discarded on the sink from this morning's face wash. It was only ten in the morning, and already he was tired.

Jim opened his mouth to say something, and Blair beat him to it by yawning also. "Hey, Jim… what would you say to a nice nap together, then a light lunch, separate showers or we'll never get anywhere, and then kicking back in front of the television until dinnertime, at which time we go out for dinner?"

"I would say that sounds like the best idea I've heard lately, Chief." Then he grabbed Blair's wrist as the Guide headed out of the room. "Wait just a minute there, Chief… I just want you to know that I don't want us to be the kind of lovers who can't be friends too… can we still be friends?"

Blair's smile lit up the entire loft, and Jim's heart warmed. "Of course we can, man! We're always gonna be friends, Jim." It made him feel so warm inside to know that Jim not only loved him, but valued their friendship as well.

"Good. I don't want to lose that, Blair. I don't know what I'd do without it… without you." He put his hands on his thighs and pushed himself up to stand beside his naked lover. "Want something to drink?"

"Oh yeah." Blair hadn't realized his mouth was so dry until Jim offered a drink.

"Just wait here; I'll bring it up to you." Jim watched as Blair got into his--their--bed and then hurried down the stairs and out to the kitchen. Listening to Blair's heart and breathing, he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine, pouring two glasses and then put the rose in one of the glasses. Carrying the bottle up with the other hand, Jim climbed the stairs again, and smiled at Blair when he saw the Guide smiling back at him. "Here you go," he said softly, passing Blair the glass with the rose in it.

Blair pulled out the rose and waited for Jim to lie down and put the wine bottle on the bedside table. He held up his glass to Jim's. "To new beginnings?" he asked, with a slight questioning tone.

"To new beginnings," Jim confirmed. "And to friends."

* * * * *

On Monday morning, Jim and Blair came into the station together, both men smiling and laughing at a joke Blair had just made. Simon raised an eyebrow as he looked both men over, and smiled to himself. He wasn't going to get his hopes up, but if you looked hard enough, you could see Blair was walking very gingerly this morning, and flinching slightly as he sat down on the corner of Jim's desk. Leaning against his office doorframe, he watched as Blair sat down and winced, and Jim's hand immediately moved to Blair's knee, looking up and asking something, to which Blair nodded yes and shifted slightly again. At Blair's answer, Jim smiled and moved his hand, and Blair scooted a little further into Jim's desk, away from the edge. *Bingo!* Simon thought to himself.

Jim looked down from Blair. "Still a little sore, Chief?"

Blair flushed and whispered for Jim's ears only. "A little!"

Jim smiled as he shifted through the papers on his desk to cover his words. "Can I help it if you're so tight?"

A shadow fell over the desk as Blair raised his coffee cup. "Morning, Simon."

Jim looked up and around Blair's shoulder. "Morning, Captain, how is everything?"

"I should be asking you that," Simon said with a smile, and then it fell. "Can I see you two in my office please?"

Jim's smile fell also, and he traded a concerned look with Blair. "What's up, sir?"

"Nothing, I hope," the captain said, shaking his head. "Jim, have you had a confrontation with Sam from the lab lately?" Jim and Blair exchanged a significant glance, which Simon did not miss. "I take that to be yes?"

"Nothing that relates to work, Simon," Blair said quickly. "Anything we've had to do with Sam was completely outside the station."

Simon sighed. "Do I really want to know?"

Jim looked at Simon. "Come on, Simon, you know me."

"Yeah, and I know Sandburg too, and that's what I'm afraid of. Jim, what's going on here? I hate being in the dark when a complaint crosses my desk about one of my best detectives."

Jim sat upright. "A complaint? What are you talking about?"

"Sam filed a complaint this morning against you and Sandburg both saying that you've made it impossible for her to continue to do her job."

"Captain, you don't believe this!" Jim exclaimed.

"Yeah, I mean, come on, Simon, she's just pissed off at me and she's taking it out on Jim!"

"And why is she pissed off at you, Sandburg? Did you stand her up again?"

"No, she walked out on me Friday night at dinner and I wouldn't meet her Saturday morning!"

The captain sighed again. Already he was getting a headache and the day had just started. "All right, I'll buy that, but Jim, what's this story that you verbally abused her?"

Jim got up and started pacing. "Sandburg was home Friday night when I got home. Migraine. I put him to bed, got him to sleep, and she started calling, trying to get in touch with him. First time she called I told her not to call back and wake him up, the second time I told her to not call back and hung up on her, and she called three more times in that hour and then twice more during the night! Then she shows up at the loft Saturday morning demanding to know why Blair hadn't met her and then getting pissed off because we were in the middle of something and told her to get lost!"

Simon buried a chuckle at that. He could just imagine what they'd been in the middle of, and he had to admit that if he'd been interrupted like that, he'd have been rather rude too. "And none of this happened on the station premises?"

"No sir, absolutely not," Jim said, prowling around the office. "All of it at the loft… my home, not the office."

"Good, then I can call Sam and tell her to take her complaint and file it in the circular file." He picked up the phone. "Rhonda, get Samantha up here from the lab. Thanks." He looked back at Jim. "Off the record, Jim… what did she interrupt?"

Jim looked at Blair, in effect tossing the question to him to answer or not. "Uh, well, she knocked on the door while Jim was... kissing me," he said quickly, running the words together.

Simon smiled and looked over at Jim. "Didn't I tell you to tell him weeks ago?"

Jim flushed as Blair looked at him. "Jim?"

"I had to talk to someone, Chief, I was going nuts because I didn't know what to do so I told Simon how I felt and explained the situation to him and he said I should just sit down and tell you."

Blair transferred his glare to Simon. "And you didn't tell me?"

Simon held up his hands in protest, lighting his cigar. "Not my place, Sandburg." A knock sounded on the door, and Simon looked at Jim. "Sit down." He shook his head as Jim dragged the chair over beside Blair's before sitting, but he didn't argue as long as the Sentinel planted his ass in the chair. "Come in!" Sam came in, looked at Jim and Blair together, and then crossed her arms and looked at Simon, who pointed at the door with his cigar. "Close the door and take a seat." Sam shut the door and sat down, keeping several feet of space between her and the two men. "Sam, this complaint is bullshit," he said, keeping his voice level. "First of all, you exaggerated the events and second, none of it happened on these premises! You're wasting my time with this."

"Captain, I'm not wasting your time with this! These two have made it impossible for me to work here."

"Sam… nobody here gives a damn about anyone's personal life."

"What about the betting pool on--"

Simon interrupted her before she could finish. "I *said* nobody cares about anyone's personal life here, Sam! What you or Sandburg or Ellison or I choose to do outside the station walls stays there! Now, if you've got a complaint with the way Jim or Sandburg's treated you ON premises, then you're welcome to file it, but otherwise, keep it off my desk and out of this station, do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Sir," she said in a brittle tone.

Jim couldn't resist a parting shot. "Nice try, Sam, but you lost out all the way around." He made sure she could see his arm around Blair's shoulders, his fingers playing with the tips of his hair. "Next time try being a little nicer, it wouldn't kill you to be polite. A smile wouldn't crack that icy veneer either."

Sam slammed the door on her way out, and Simon waited for her to leave before laughing. "Jim… think you could have been any more obvious?"

Jim left his arm around Blair. "Oh, I think so, Sir… I could have kissed him again. She got an eyeful once and didn't like it, but she got the message."

Blair leaned back against Jim's arm, resting his head against it. "Thanks for the support, Simon."

"What are friends for, Sandburg?"

Blair couldn't let that one pass. "Friend, Simon?" he questioned with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't repeat it, or I'll deny it." He laughed as he said it. "Out. I'll take you both out to lunch today; my treat. My way of saying congratulations." He paused for a minute. "Jim, can I see you alone for a second?"

Blair got up. "That's my cue. I'll be at your desk, filing your reports."

"Thanks, Chief," Jim said, squeezing Blair's hand as he walked by. Simon waited for Blair to close the door, and then pulled out his wallet and passed Jim a fifty. "And thank you, Captain."

"I thought Sam was going to mention the office pool for sure," Simon said with a sigh. "The last thing Blair needs to know is that there was a bet as to how long it'd be before you two got together."

Jim pocketed the fifty and smiled. "Or that I won."

Simon looked through the blinds at Blair, sitting behind Jim's desk. "Yeah, Jim… you did win. Big time."




*** end ***






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