Pet Fly supposedly own these guys, tho they don't seem to want to make any money out of them, and i'm certainly not.

Thanks to Cheryl for reading and encouraging.

This story was a difficult one to write. It's an unremitting angst fest and contains the most disturbing rape scene i've ever written. Not because it's violent, but because it isn't. Please be aware that you may find it objectionable.
There's also kids in this story. Cute ones. Be warned :)
Also be aware that Jim and Blair are somewhat out of character in this story, due to the circumstances of their meeting. i wanted to write a Dark!Blair story and wound up with an uncommunicative Blair and a Jim who wants to talk about his feelings. Go figure!

It had been a bad one this time. Jim didn't need the long faces surrounding the opening to tell him that, as the lid of the Null tank was lifted away. He sat up, cautiously, and accepted Rafe's arm to enable him to climb out of the tank. Once, not so long ago, he would have scorned any such offers of assistance. Now he couldn't manage without them.

"How long this time?" His voice sounded rough and his throat muscles felt tight. Just like every other muscle in his body.

The three men exchanged reluctant glances. Obviously, none of them wanted to be the bearer of bad news. Finally, Rafe cleared his throat. "Uh... five hours."

Five hours. Even worse than he'd expected. The attacks were coming closer together and lasting longer, an almost daily deterioration. Soon he'd be taking up permanent residence in the damn tank. But even that wouldn't save him in the end.

How in the seven hells had it come to this? A little over a year ago he'd been an athlete, a warrior, head of an army; James Joseph Ellison, eldest son of the autocratic Sentinel Prime of Cascade. Now he was the Sentinel Prime of Cascade, one of the richest men in the galaxy; slowly disintegrating, and nobody could do anything to help him. For the last five months he'd been spending increasing periods of time in the Null tank, and all it was doing was delaying his inevitable death.

Neither of his two doctors would so much as meet his eyes. Rafe did, but Rafe had known him a long time. Jim began to strip off the microns thick sensorsuit, exposing a body that had once been muscular and now was just short of emaciation. "How much longer, do you think?"

Dr Tarleton finally met his gaze. "A month, Sire. Perhaps two. Unless..."

Jim laughed. "I thought men of science didn't believe in miracles. Don't you think if there was a Guide for me we would have found him or her by now?"

"Well..." Rafe smiled apologetically, "you haven't exactly been looking until... until recently."

It was a good point, and it shocked the doctors, which was mildly entertaining; at least, for a moment. He'd never needed or wanted a Guide until a year ago. He'd even taken a perverse pride in that fact. His father had been a Sentinel and that was all the reason Jim had needed not to want to be one too. Stephen had, of course, been proud to be a Sentinel and therefore his father's heir. Jim had been content with pursuing other goals. Then, a year ago, Sentinel Prime, Heir and their respective Guides had been killed in a disastrous crash - groundhopping, of all things, a pastime so lacking in danger, they'd never considered it a risk to allow both ruler and heir to indulge in it together.

With no other adult family member to take their place, the Sentinel heritage had fallen, suddenly and extremely painfully, onto Jim's shoulders. Late onset Sentinel abilities were always a hardship - they were best handled by the young and mentally flexible. Jim was well into his thirties and prided himself on being a man of few, but unbending, principles. Even so, he could have handled it, if only he could have found a Guide.

It shouldn't have been so difficult. On a planet with a population of two hundred million, in a system with three times that number of inhabitants, it should have been child's play. His DNA was on record, all that was required was to find a half-dozen or so candidates with complementary DNA readings and bring them to him. One of them would surely have that indefinable quality which Jim had been told time and time again would prompt him to claim the lucky person as his Guide.

After meeting close to two hundred candidates, Jim still had no Guide, and his senses were barely under control at the best of times. There hadn't been many of those times lately.

"Maybe I'm being too fussy." Jim shrugged on the loose robe that Rafe held out to him. "That blond woman... what was her name...?"

"Serena." Rafe grimaced.

"That's right. Or maybe the boy... but he was really too young."

"Sire, when you meet your Guide, you will know." Dr Tarleton spoke with an air of sympathetic authority. He was supposed to be the foremost expert on Sentinel abilities. "Without any shadow of doubt. You will know."

Jim shrugged carelessly. "Not if it takes longer than a month. Or two." He ignored their scandalised expressions and left, leaning heavily against Rafe.

They were halfway back to the Royal Apartments when he felt the nerve-jarring tingle of his comms implant. Signalling to Rafe, he tapped the spot just below his jaw to pick up the signal. "Ellison."

"Jim, I think you should get to the audience chamber." Simon's voice, gruff and slightly tinny, reverberated inside his head.

"I've just got out of the tank. Can't it wait?"

But his Chief of Security was in no mood to take no for an answer. "There's a new batch of prospective Guides."

Jim almost groaned. After all the candidates he'd seen, and rejected, he no longer had any hope of finding his Guide. Faced with a choice between surveying more hopeful candidates and dying... well, dying didn't seem so bad any more. "Can't they wait?"

"Can you?" That was Simon - honest, and blunt as a cudgel.

"I suppose not. I'll be there in ten minutes." He met Rafe's inquiring look. "More candidates. I don't suppose you could rustle up a hoverchair?"

Ten minutes later, almost to the second, James Joseph Ellison, thirty-eighth Sentinel Prime of Cascade, marched into his main audience chamber and took his place on one half of the Double Throne. It still felt strange to sit there, where his father had sat for as long as Jim could remember, along with his Guide, Alden. Part of that strangeness was the empty feeling on his left side where his Guide ought to be. In spite of his cavalier attitude towards the Sentinel-Guide bond, once he'd become a Sentinel, Jim had started to feel that space, could almost sense the shape of it, corresponding in some nebulous way to the shape of the person destined to sit there. If that person existed.

After five minutes of watching a parade of young men and women, some hopeful, some frightened, some resentful, all dressed in their finest clothes, Jim was bored.

He gestured to Simon. "How many more?"

"Five."

Jim sighed.

Candidate number twenty-three was ushered in. At least this one was indisputably an adult. Tall and well built - Jim cast an appraising eye over him and hoped... but, no. Not the slightest twinge. He waved the man away reluctantly.

Candidate number twenty-four was... a surprise. Scruffy and - Jim hastily tried to throttle back his sense of smell - definitely unwashed. He stood swaying before the Double Throne, his eyes empty, his face blank. They had to be kidding.

Jim leaned forward. "Is he drugged?"

Number twenty-four's keeper smiled nervously. "N... no, Sire. He's been ill. I wouldn't have brought him until he got better, only they said it were urgent-like."

Urgent... more likely the keeper had a pressing debt that was urgent. Sometimes Jim regretted offering a reward to whoever located his future Guide. It had resulted in a number of totally unsuitable candidates until he'd insisted that their DNA scans were vetted first. But he was getting desperate. Nobody on Cascade with the DNA match he required had turned out to be suitable and off-worlders had some strange notions about Sentinels and Guides. Some kind of incentive had to be offered.

He was trying to decide between amusement, disgust, and outright offence when the young man's knees suddenly buckled. Before any of the half dozen people who stood closer to him could move, Jim was at his side, lifting the slackened body into his arms. With some care, he gathered the lolling head and cradled it against his shoulder, then met Simon's incredulous stare.

The world as he knew it was sent spinning out of control. Fuck and damnation to all the demons of the seven hells! This malodorous and possibly infectious scrap of humanity was his Guide.

Behind him the audience chamber was in utter chaos. Jim ignored it all. He strode through the door and along the wide hallway with his Guide in his arms and only one thought on his mind. Protect the Guide. Or, in this case, wash the Guide, feed him and bed him. Not necessarily in that order, though he was certain that washing should definitely come first.

Luckily the audience chamber had been built to be easily accessible from the Royal Apartments. Borne along on a wave of adrenaline Jim might be, but it had to give out some time. He made it into his bedroom without faltering, but it was a relief to set his nameless Guide down on a plain cotton bedcover that was the scandal of a laundry staff that prided its collective self on their mastery of maintaining the most delicate and sumptuous of fabrics.

Rafe appeared in the doorway and Jim had to bite back a snarl of warning. They'd told him, back when everybody had expected him to find a Guide easily, that the bonding was an intense and unpredictable process. They hadn't told him the half of it.

"Bring hot water. And soap." He glanced at Rafe warily, still half expecting to have to beat one of his faithful servants off the most precious treasure his planet had ever yielded up to him. And since when did bonding with a Guide involve thinking in ludicrously overblown poetic imagery? He bent over the thin figure, crooning softly.

Rafe wrinkled his nose. "Wouldn't a bath be a better idea?"

"I suppose so." Jim came back to earth reluctantly. "Can you...?"

"Already started it." Rafe smiled smugly. "I added extra bath scents. Herbal."

He had to accept Rafe's assistance in carrying his burden to the bathroom. They laid him on the couch and proceeded to strip off the stinking clothes before lowering his naked body into the warm water. His black hair was escaping messily from a waist length braid, and Jim carefully loosed it. Like its owner's body, the hair was definitely in need of cleaning.

"You can go now." Jim heard the note of jealousy in his voice with something like alarm. Then practicality overcame instinct. "But stay close. I might need your help getting him out again."

"Sure." Rafe smiled cautiously. "Just call, okay, Jim?"

Jim nodded, his attention already drawn back to his Guide. There was no obvious sign of ill usage on the young man, other than his thinness, which could have been attributed to illness as his keeper had claimed. Jim lovingly soaped the still body and just as lovingly swirled the soapsuds away, then shampooed the long thick strands of curly hair, talking to his Guide as he progressed. Somehow he managed to lift the limp body out of the bath, soaking himself in the process, and wrap him in the warm towels Rafe had provided.

Cradled on his lap, the young man seemed to weigh nothing at all. Jim patted him gently dry and then rubbed his hair briskly in an effort to dry it as much as possible. He was tempted to try to carry him through into the bedroom, but the fear that he might drop his Guide forced him to call out to Rafe. The servant came in, followed by Simon.

"The man. He's gone?" Anxiety struck. Nobody could be allowed to take his Guide away from him.

"I paid him. He's gone." Simon nodded his head towards the unconscious man. "His name's Blair Sandburg."

"Blair." Of course it was. How could he be called anything other than Blair Sandburg? Jim looked up into the face of his closest friend and smiled joyously. "He's my Guide."

Simon rolled his eyes. "You should get a doctor to check him over."

"Why?" Protective instincts surged inside him, howling. Was Blair in some kind of danger? He glared at the only two possible threats.

"No, no... he's just a bit under the weather." Simon walked cautiously to Jim's side and patted his shoulder soothingly. "He might need some medicine, that's all."

Protect... Jim nodded reluctantly. "All right."

The doctors' visit was a severe trial, both for Jim and the doctors. It went against every instinct to allow others to touch his Guide, but Simon managed to distract him enough that the doctors could perform a sketchy examination. They pronounced him seriously undernourished but not actually sick. Then they beat a hasty retreat.

Satisfied, Simon and Rafe left them alone at last. Jim sighed, stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed with his Guide. Blair. His Guide. Blair Sandburg. His.

Waking had never felt so good before. Jim stirred against the warmth of a body already familiar and the delicate strands of a bond beginning to form. His Guide - Blair - was snuggled up against him, one arm draped across his chest. He stroked the smooth skin of his shoulder and the smaller man stirred weakly, sighing. Did he feel it too? The bond was so new, so fragile, but growing stronger with each touch.

Curious about the man who was going to be his closest companion for the rest of his life, Jim eased back a little so he could take a good look. The first thing that struck him was the mass of dark hair spread out across the pillows. It wasn't black, as he'd thought at first, but a rich, dark brown with glints of red and gold. And he was... beautiful; his face was just a little bit too masculine to be described as pretty, but beautiful... yes, that fit. Jim brushed a cautious fingertip across Blair's full lower lip, smiling as his Guide responded to his touch.

He ached to gather the pathetically thin figure into his arms, to lavish care and attention on him. He ached to fulfil the promise of their nascent bond. Jim blinked, his eyes drawn to the one bare shoulder that was peeking from under the covers. Cautiously, he eased them back, exposing smooth olive skin and a rather delightful swirl of dark chest hair.

With a sense of guilty pleasure, Jim drew the covers down further, wincing a little at the sight of that too thin body, but captivated by it too. His hand hovered uncertainly over the soft swell of genitals before withdrawing. Too soon. Too soon to start anything, with his Guide still unconscious and weak.

Drawing the covers back up, Jim lay down and wrapped his arms around Blair, pulling him close. He could feel his awareness of his Guide expanding, filling all his senses. With Blair's head resting on his shoulder Jim could absorb the scent of his hair and feel the warm brush of breath on his skin. Tendrils of pleasure stirred in his groin, warning Jim that he needed to do something about the bond developing between them. But until Blair was also ready, there was nothing he could do.

Soon it became clear that Blair was slowly coming closer to consciousness. His heartbeat was speeding up a little, his breathing deepening. Minute stirrings of his muscles indicated the restlessness of an awakening sleeper. "Blair. It's all right, Blair. Everything's all right. I just need you to wake up. Just... when you're ready, Blair. I'm waiting for you. I'm here..."

Without thinking about it, he was stroking his fingers lightly over Blair's tumbled curls. The Guide moved against him, sighing, and Jim's cock stirred. "Blair... Blair..." he crooned the name over and over, losing himself in the sound.

Time passed; immersed in his senses, in his growing awareness of the body next to his, Jim was gradually losing any sense of separation between himself and his Guide. He surfaced from a dazed fog of sensual images to find he was caressing Blair's back under the blanket of hair, nuzzling his temple with lips that seemed far more sensitive than ever before, yet without the pain that he usually associated with his heightened senses. And Blair was responding, his cock stirring aimlessly against Jim's thigh.

"Blair. Blair, wake up." Jim whispered to his Guide urgently. His need to complete the bond sizzled through his nerve endings and he groaned. "Please..."

Frightened and shocked by his slipping control, he released Blair's body, moving away a scant few inches before he stopped, unable to retreat any further. Within moments he was back again, his hands reaching instinctively, cradling warm flesh, his lips finally where they needed to be - on Blair's. Soft nipples hardened instantly at his touch and for the first time Blair moved with a hint of purposefulness. He must be close to waking, and that, suddenly, seemed enough reason for Jim to surrender to his surging desire.

Still whispering Blair's name, he allowed his hands to roam over the already beloved body, learning the shapes and textures of his Guide. The thrumming of blood in Blair's veins reached him with unusual clarity and he followed the flow to where it pooled in that flushed, barely glimpsed cock. Gently, he encouraged the process, running ultra-sensitive fingertips along the thick dorsal vein, soaking up the heat of arousal, drinking in the scent of it. Under his hands, Blair moaned and arched into his touch.

The bond whispered in his brain, commanding, seductive. He turned Blair away from him, brushed aside the long strands of hair. They fitted perfectly together, regardless of the difference in their heights, and his cock nestled in the cleft of Blair's ass as though their bodies had been created only for this. Quiet sounds tumbled from his lips, from Blair's; sounds of pleasure and need.

Protective instincts kicked in suddenly. He couldn't cause any harm to his Guide. It was his most deeply ingrained instinct, since finding Blair. They would need lubricant, and he had none. For long moments, he could think of nothing, his hands frozen in their movements while his brain raced furiously. Long enough for Blair's awakening to progress almost to full consciousness.

"Please..." the faint murmur sent tremors through Jim's body and galvanised him into action. He collected what moisture was available from Blair's hardened cock and the Guide moaned at his touch. Square hands closed over his, clutching weakly.

"Easy, sweetheart. Let me do this." He nuzzled Blair's ear through the thick strands of hair. "I don't want to hurt you."

He managed to withdraw one hand and use the slippery fluids to smooth his fingers' entry into Blair's ass. It was easier than he'd expected, and he knew that his Guide was experienced with men. His hackles rose a little at this revelation, but nothing could distract him for long; especially when Blair began to move against his fingers with languid sensuality. After only a few moments, Jim was satisfied. He withdrew his fingers and pressed his cock against Blair's hole.

A ragged gasp escaped Blair as Jim entered him and he hesitated for a moment. Blair felt tight, and absolutely wonderful. He lay shivering, only the head of his cock inside, desperate to sheathe himself fully, but determined to wait it out until Blair was ready.

It couldn't be much longer now. Blair moved restlessly, muttering incoherently. Another faint plea was all the invitation Jim needed to press further inside his lover. His hands moved, caressing, soothing, arousing and he felt a long shudder run through Blair's thin body. Oh yes... this was beyond wonderful, beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. He began to thrust, slow and easy, whispering loving nonsense into Blair's ear.

"...please..." Blair's hands brushed weakly against Jim's and he twisted his head away, turning it into the pillow. "...no... please..."

"It's all right... let me love you, sweetheart." Jim kissed the soft skin of Blair's throat, tasting the sweat that coated his body. "...so good, so beautiful... love..."

The siren cry of the bond was almost overwhelming his senses now. Nothing existed beyond the two of them. Nothing mattered except to strengthen the fragile ties that bound them together. He thrust deeper, feeling the surge of response from Blair, feeling the bond draw strength from their bodies' connection and feed it back to them.

Blair's hands pushed at his again, and his body twisted in Jim's arms. "No. No, please..."

It took long, long moments for the sense of what was happening to sink into Jim's conscious mind. Moments when he might have been able to stop. His heart began to slam against the inside of his ribs, the instinct to protect literally at war with the pull of the bond. Blair didn't want him, wasn't begging for him. Blair wanted it to stop. He had to stop, but... but he needed to complete the bond, to seal Blair to him forever. He had to... to...

"No. Blair... please, Blair..." Jim tried desperately to soothe his Guide. Protect. Bond. Claim. With an anguished sob he caught hold of the fluttering hands and held them in just one of his own, the other continued pumping Blair's cock. Once it was done, once they were bonded, truly joined, he could make Blair understand. They both needed this. "It's all right... don't, please..."

A scream was torn from his throat as his cock emptied itself deep inside Blair's body and Jim felt the hot spurt of come on his hands. Blair shuddered and then lay still in his arms, their hearts beating furiously, but in perfect time with each other. The bond was complete now, clear in his mind, shining and golden.

A muffled sob brought him back to earth with a sickening thud. Blair was lying curled around himself, with Jim's cock still hard inside him. "Blair... Blair, hold still, I'm just going to..."

Sweating and terrified, he pulled back gently, freeing his cock. "Are you hurt? Blair, please. Tell me if I've hurt you."

Blair moaned, but his head shook slowly from side to side and Jim felt a sick sense of relief. He realised that his fingers were coated with Blair's semen and acting entirely on instinct, hurriedly sucked them clean. It was only then that he remembered one of the more embarrassing lectures he'd been given on the bonding process between Sentinel and Guide. Their bodies would absorb each other's sexual fluids, feeding the bond that united them. Which sounded all very well in theory, but right now, Jim wished he'd never felt that first tiny tug that had resulted in Blair being brought to his bed.

"Blair, I'm so sorry, so very..." How in the seven hells did you apologise for something like this? How could they ever be what they were meant to be to each other after what he'd just done? He'd violated every instinct that told him he must protect his Guide. He'd violated Blair. "Please... let me..." He reached for his Guide only to feel Blair flinch away from him, still too weak to move very far.

He'd done this. Now he had to set it right. It felt wrong, so terribly wrong, to feel such incredible joy in the bond, to feel such tenderness towards the man he'd just raped. With a groan he closed his eyes and forced his mind to clear. This wasn't about him. Not now, perhaps not ever. He'd hurt Blair. Blair was all that mattered.

"Blair?" He leaned as close as he dared. "I'm going to get someone... someone to help you. Okay?"

There was no answer, but even though his senses were reeling under the weight of his shame and guilt, Jim could easily hear the quiet sobs. He lifted a hand instinctively, to touch the bare shoulder, and stopped. The best thing he could do for Blair right now was to leave him alone.

Jim looked up as Rafe hesitated in the doorway. Two hours ago, Jim knew he wouldn't have been able to hear the quiet footsteps without risking a sensory spike or zone, now he had no difficulty at all. A lot of things could change in two hours.

"How is he?"

"Resting." Rafe's expression was sympathetic, though who that sympathy was aimed at, Jim wasn't sure. "Dr Tarleton's pleased with his progress."

Jim nodded apathetically. Dr Tarleton was pleased with his progress too, but he felt like shit. "Rafe, I have to talk to him."

"He's... not really in the right frame of mind for that. Maybe later." Rafe looked him over critically. "You both need to rest."

"I can't rest!" Jim slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair. "I have to... to..." he stopped, frustrated by his own confused needs. "I have to explain. Try to make him understand. The bond... I have to set things right."

"Jim, I don't think he's ready to hear what you have to say." Rafe leaned over him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

There were few people he'd allow that kind of familiarity. In fact, there were only two - Rafe and Simon. Rafe had been his aide since he'd made Colonel, and Simon had been his second-in-command. They'd both followed him without hesitation when he'd become Sentinel Prime and normally he would have taken their advice under serious consideration, but neither man could possibly understand the effect this bond was having on him. He could feel Blair, his emotions, his physical responses. He knew how much pain his Guide was enduring, how confused he was. He couldn't just sit back and let him suffer, not if there was any chance of being able to help him.

"I think you're right." Jim pushed himself out of his chair and headed for his private chamber. "But I have to try."

It was a large room, and the bed was in proportion to its surroundings. Still, it shocked him to see how small Blair appeared, huddled in one corner, knees drawn up to his chest, head resting on his knees. He was wearing some loose outfit of pants and top, too big for him, and his hair had been tidily braided. It only served to make his face look more pinched and exhausted, when he raised his head to stare at Jim. He didn't speak.

"Blair. Can I...?" He gestured towards the edge of the bed.

The Guide shuffled hurriedly away, putting distance between them, but he nodded his permission.

"Thank you." Jim sat, gingerly, on the bed. For a few seconds they both sat, watching each other in silence. It hurt to see that pale, distraught face and not dare to offer the comfort of touch.

"What have you done to me?" Blair's voice was as beautiful as his face, a rich baritone that resonated with emotion. When Jim hesitated, uncertain of his meaning, he shook his head. "Not that. What have you done in here?" He gestured towards his temple.

For a native of Cascade, the answer would have been easy. But for this young man... Jim sighed. "What do you know about Sentinels?"

All he received in reply was a blank look. "I guess I'd better start from the beginning. A Sentinel has what you could call hyperactive senses. Sentinels need a Guide to help control their senses, otherwise they can go crazy or burn out. I'm a Sentinel."

"And this has exactly what to do with me?" Anger laced the Guide's voice.

"You're my Guide." Jim stated it baldly and saw Blair's eyes narrow. He had to fight not to be completely captivated by the blue-grey depths. "What you're feeling is... is the bond."

"Look, just spare me the religious crap, all right?" His anger seemed to be giving Blair strength. He straightened out of his defensive posture and glared at Jim. "Tell me what the fuck you've done and how to undo it."

It was becoming increasingly difficult to think; the effects of Blair's anger, felt through the bond, and the implicit threat to the bond, especially coming from his own Guide, were leaving Jim disoriented. If anyone else had suggested such a thing Jim probably would have attacked him. "I can't. No one can."

"No! No, I won't believe that." Blair's heartbeat spiked and his breathing was becoming increasingly chaotic. "You can't... I can't... I won't do this."

"Blair." Instinctively Jim reached out and then stopped, but it was the breaking point for Blair

"Don't touch me!" He flung himself off the far side of the bed and ran unsteadily for the door, snatching up a heavy bronze statuette on the way. When Jim followed, he brandished it like a weapon. "Keep away from me."

"I'm not going to hurt you." Jim spread his hands wide, open palms facing his Guide. "You're my Guide. I have to protect you."

"Is that what you call it?" A rough sob escaped him and Jim felt it in his gut. "I don't need that kind of protection."

"Blair." Jim spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "What I did... I shouldn't have done it. I was... it's been so long. We've been searching for a Guide for over a year, and I... when we found you I lost control. It's not meant to be like that. It'll never be like that again, I promise."

Blair's face hardened. "I'll kill you before I let it happen again."

"I believe you." And he did, even though he was a head taller and much larger. The resolve in Blair's eyes was chilling. "If you'd grown up here on Cascade, you'd know that this isn't the way it's supposed to be. The bond between a Sentinel and Guide is the most precious thing anyone can ever have. It can be that way for us too."

"No." Blair backed away a little further, his lips trembling, and Jim could feel his weakness increasing. Two more steps had him backed up against the wall and he slid down it, still clutching the statuette. He looked up at Jim with eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "I won't be your whore. I don't care what you call it."

"You won't be. You'll be my partner. My equal in every way." Jim smiled tentatively. "I need you far more than you need me." He could see the tremors running through Blair's body. "Let me help you?"

Blair didn't resist as Jim gently removed the statuette from his grasp. He set it aside and lifted the thin body into his arms. He was under no illusions; Blair's acquiescence was due to exhaustion, not trust, but for the moment it would have to do. He laid Blair on the bed, covering him quickly, and the younger man turned away, shuddering. It didn't require Sentinel senses to tell that Blair was crying and it made Jim's stomach lurch to know that he was the cause. He lay down on top of the covers and reached for his Guide.

Amazingly, Blair didn't resist. Jim draped one arm carefully over the shaking body, leaving Blair plenty of space to escape. It hurt just to feel the echoes of Blair's pain through the bond. What Blair was enduring... he couldn't begin to comprehend.

The next few days were rough, to say the least. Neither Jim nor Blair was in any condition to deal with their emotions or each other. After that first tense morning, Jim took his friends' advice and arranged for the Guide's chambers, unused since Alden's death, to be cleaned and refurnished. Even with a small army of staff, that took most of the day. Blair disappeared into the suite, and promptly barricaded the connecting door to Jim's room with a heavy old chest. How he'd managed to move it alone was beyond Jim's understanding.

After a night's restless sleep, Jim sent Rafe in to talk to his Guide. Perhaps hearing the same information from a third party would convince Blair that Jim had told him the truth. But when Rafe came out into the wide lounge that both suites shared, it was obvious that he'd had little success.

"It's going to take time, Jim. It's not surprising."

"I know." Jim could hardly bear to meet Rafe's eyes. "Is the comms station online yet? Maybe if he can do his own research, he'll realise I've told him the truth."

Rafe smiled wryly. "I don't think anything will convince him at the moment."

"He's stubborn, all right." Jim felt an unwilling pride, even in this rather inconvenient aspect of his Guide's personality. He rubbed his aching eyes. "He's going to need a personal servant. Who would you suggest?"

"Well..." Rafe grinned suddenly, "there's Henri. He's, uh... well, he might cheer Blair up."

The name seemed familiar, though Jim hadn't exactly had a lot of spare time, between adjusting to his new position and dealing with his erratic senses, to get to know the small army of servants that ensured the smooth running of the palace. "Well, we'll see how Blair likes him. Can we trust him to organise suitable clothes for Blair, or should I leave that in your hands?"

"I'll keep an eye on him." Amusement glinted in Rafe's eyes, but his face was composed. "Maybe you should ask Simon to bring Daryl over to visit. I think he'd hit it off with Blair."

It was a good suggestion. Daryl was sixteen and, having been raised in a military family rather than in the sometimes claustrophobic atmosphere of the palace, was refreshingly blunt like his father, and just as good hearted. If anyone could break through Blair's defences, it would be Daryl.

"In the meantime..." Rafe jerked his head towards the Sentinel Prime's chambers, "you should rest. And eat. You're going to need your strength."

"People are curious, Sire." Karlin smiled, indulgently overlooking his ruler's temper. "The Sentinel Prime has a new bond-mate and nobody knows anything about him. Nobody has seen him outside of your Apartments. Rumours are becoming wilder by the moment. All I'm suggesting..."

"I know what you're suggesting." Jim forced back the urge to snap at his Chamberlain. "Ordinarily, I'd agree, but Blair needs time to... to find his feet. He knew nothing about the Sentinel-Guide bond, or the customs of this planet when he arrived. And he's been ill. I won't subject him to public scrutiny."

The old man nodded understandingly. "Well, it's only been a few days. Perhaps we could make a start by releasing a few personal details, a holovid of the young man. Or the two of you together."

Jim turned away. How could he explain, even to someone who knew him as well as Karlin did, that he didn't know any personal details; or that the chances of Blair agreeing to have a holovid made, with or without Jim, were less than zero? He hadn't so much as stepped outside his chamber since he moved in there. "I'm sorry. It's just not that simple."

He could almost feel the stare that must be aimed at his back. He certainly heard the quiet rustle of clothing that indicated an aborted movement, probably towards him. The old man had been his father's Chamberlain for as far back as Jim could remember, and had always been ready to console a young boy in need of parental understanding. Some things never changed.

"Jim, if you need anything, you will tell me, won't you?" it was the closest Karlin was ever likely to come to straight out demanding to know what was wrong. It had been that gentleness and respect for Jim's privacy that had first drawn him to Karlin.

"I need time. We both do." Jim turned to face his Chamberlain, his expression carefully schooled. "It... the bonding... was... difficult. Blair wasn't prepared for..." to his horror, his voice cracked and he fell silent rather than give way completely to his emotions.

"I see. Late bondings are never easy." The well-modulated voice gave nothing away. "Your father and Alden had some difficulties at first, you know."

"No, I didn't." Anything was better than dwelling on his own and Blair's problems. Jim tried to feign an interest in the father he'd hated. Alden had been all right, he supposed, but too intrinsically linked to his father for Jim to ever consider liking the man. "I don't even know how old they were when they bonded."

"William was twenty-three, and Alden was eighteen." The old man smiled. "I wish you could have known them then. William was such a reserved, unhappy young man. You may find it hard to believe, but Alden made him much more approachable."

Jim shivered involuntarily. Even his earliest memories of his father were of a cold, disdainful man who was never satisfied, let alone pleased, by anything his elder son had done to earn parental approval. He'd often wondered if the mother he couldn't remember would have loved him; his father certainly hadn't.

"Jim." Karlin smiled sadly. "It's not easy to be a parent. We all fail, in one way or another. Your father did the best he could."

The sympathetic tone gave him strength, though not in the way Karlin intended. Jim straightened his spine into an almost military posture. "Did he?"

"Yes." The old man's gaze never wavered. "I know he regretted your estrangement."

Jim shrugged. "Well, it's too late now, isn't it? I'll let you know when Blair's ready to... to deal with strangers."

He made the words a dismissal, and the old man took the none-too-subtle hint with a brief, ironic bow. "Of course, Sire. Please give my regards to your bond-mate."

"Everybody else is ready, Sire. Do you know when you'll be arriving?" The polite formality of Simon's voice didn't come close to covering his impatience. That meant he had an audience. If he'd been alone, he would certainly have phrased things very differently.

"No, I don't." If the situation had been any less awkward, Jim would have smiled, or sworn, or done something to defuse the tension. But he needed to keep his own stress under control if he was going to get through this. "We're waiting for Blair."

"Ah." The comms implant fell silent.

He hadn't seen his Guide in the two weeks since their bonding. Rafe had relayed messages via Henri, and Daryl had visited twice. As much as he wanted to know what was really happening with Blair, Jim had forced himself to follow the advice of his doctors, servants and friends, all of whom had told him to leave Blair to make the next move.

Finally, Blair had agreed to Jim's request, conveyed to him by Henri, to attend a formal welcome for a minor trade delegation from Permioan, the only other inhabited planet in this solar system. It was the first public occasion since Blair had arrived in Cascade, and Jim knew very well how much his Guide's reclusiveness had set the gossipmongers' tongues wagging. It was public knowledge that Blair was expected to be at the function; if he failed to turn up, all sorts of wild rumours were likely to fly.

Jim glanced helplessly at Rafe. "Do you think you could..." then he heard the faint sound of Blair's door opening. He'd been doing his best to not use his enhanced senses to spy on Blair, but now they came on full alert. He could smell the nervous sweat on Blair's skin, beneath the light fragrance of the deodorant Blair had been supplied with - guaranteed not to adversely affect Sentinel senses, like most goods produced on a planet where Sentinels made up nearly twenty-five percent of the population. His Guide was scared almost out of his wits, if the rapid beating of Blair's heart was any indication.

He turned to look as the door opened further and Henri came out, closely followed by Blair. Jim took in a deep breath and held it for several seconds as he examined every detail of his Guide's appearance. Blair was still very pale and there were shadows under his eyes. He looked like someone who'd been very ill and was barely recovered, and there was something quite disturbing about the way he held his body, the complete lack of animation in his features. His eyes met Jim's for a moment, then slid away.

"Blair, thank you for agreeing to this." Jim pitched his voice low and gentle, but there was no mistaking the tiny flinch in response. "You look perfect."

That had been something Jim had worried over. Totally unconcerned himself with the niceties required of his position, he'd been afraid that any perceived imperfection on Blair's part would be seized on by a media showing signs of hostility towards the Guide who had so far avoided them. But someone, Rafe or Henri most likely, had taken care over the selection of Blair's clothes. The outfit he wore was an elegant blue-grey tunic, decorated with rich but understated embroidery and grey pants with a discreetly military cut. Plain silver hoops adorned Blair's left ear and on the middle finger of his right hand, he wore the silver ring of a bonded Guide. It matched the one Jim wore on his left hand.

A minute lifting of one shoulder conveyed Blair's disinterest. "If I have to be here, I guess I ought to earn my keep."

It sounded like a line someone might have used to talk him into this. Jim frowned at Rafe and Henri, but they both met his gaze with limpid innocence. "You don't have to do anything. You didn't ask for this." Then Jim sighed heavily. "But since you have to live here, it would be better in the long run if you were accepted by the people. Otherwise life could get pretty uncomfortable for you."

"Like it's not now?" Blair moved towards the main door of the Royal Apartments. "You'd better tell me what I have to do."

"Nothing much." Jim fell into step beside the smaller man, resisting the urge to rest his hand on Blair's shoulder or back. "Just stay beside me, be polite to everybody. It's not anything too strenuous, but if you need to leave, just signal Simon and he'll get you out."

"Okay."

As they walked, Jim monitored his Guide as best he could. Apart from the nervousness, Blair seemed to be physically all right, however he was far from looking well. The shadowed eyes and flat pallor of his skin spoke of an internal suffering that filled Jim with guilt. He bent his head slightly to speak quietly in his Guide's ear. "Blair, are you getting everything you need? You only have to ask. If it's possible to give you what you want, I'll make sure it happens."

"Don't." Blair's voice was low and angry. "I just want to get through this, okay? Don't talk to me."

Jim nodded, his heart sinking. Fortunately, the reception was being held in the smaller audience chamber, close to the Royal Apartments. Within a few minutes they'd reached the double doors where a servant stood waiting. At a nod from Jim the doors were thrown open and Blair followed Jim into the crowded room.

Such diplomatic functions as these were one of the banes of Jim's life. He was no good at small talk and hated formality; these were the reasons, after all, that he'd joined the army. That, and to annoy his father. Still, he kept his calm manner, half his senses focused on Blair, and the rest, ridiculously, on the rest of the room, checking for potential threats to his Guide. Telling himself that Blair was completely safe in this environment made no difference to his instincts.

Once the initial introductions were over, Jim retreated to the Double Throne, Blair at his side and pretended to take an interest in the interminable speeches. He was aware that the media who'd been invited to attend were far more interested in the Sentinel Prime's new Guide and bond-mate than in a relatively minor trade delegation. Stretching out his hearing, he eavesdropped on the whispered comments and was relieved to find that the story of Blair's ill-health was suddenly finding a more sympathetic response than it had a few days ago.

He glanced over at Blair, sitting straight and uncomfortable beside him. It was the first time they'd sat together on the Double Throne, and Jim couldn't help feeling pleased at how right it seemed. Surely someday they'd be able to get past what he'd done. They had the rest of their lives together; something would have to give, sooner or later.

Lost in his thoughts, Jim almost missed the end of the speeches, but, warned by a significant glance from his Chamberlain, he rose from the throne with Blair just a second behind him. "Now we mingle. If you want to leave..."

"I know." Blair's voice was sharp with impatience. "Ask Simon."

There was no more time to talk after that. Blair stayed at his side for a while, then drifted away. Jim saw him, several minutes later, talking to one of the junior members of the delegation; one of the few who was close to him in age. They both seemed to be enjoying the exchange and the woman's face was bright and interested. Jim tried to ignore a tingling sensation of impending danger in his gut. He caught Simon's eye and, excusing himself to a senior reporter, tapped the comms implant.

"Simon. Who's that woman Blair's with?"

"Which... oh, her." Simon face got that slightly unfocused look that meant he was checking his database through his comms implant. "She's the newest member of the Trade Ministry on Permioan, just elected delegate for Marontine province six months ago. Why?"

"Just wondering." As he watched, Blair leaned closer, saying something that made the young woman laugh and blush. Jim gritted his teeth and refused to listen in. Then the Ambassador came over to speak to him and by the time he'd escaped, there was no sign of Blair. The tingling sensation got worse.

By the time Jim saw Blair again, he knew exactly what that sensation signified. If he hadn't, he would have found out the instant Blair entered the Royal Apartments stinking of sex. Even so, it felt like a blow to the gut when he smelt that woman's scent on his Guide. Jim forced himself to remain still. Silence was another matter. "I'm glad you managed to find your way back."

Blair stood just inside the door, looking trapped and defiant. "You have no rights over me. I'll do what I damn well please."

"Have I said anything?" Jim changed his mind abruptly about what he had planned to say. "All I ask is that you're reasonably discreet. The people of this planet have some very romantic ideas about Sentinels and Guides. They won't thank you for shattering their illusions."

"Not my problem." Blair favoured him with a flat stare. "I still don't accept that there's no way out of this, man. You can't hold me here against my will."

Jim sighed. "You're free to go at any time. But I warn you, breaking the bond will probably kill both of us."

"But you would say that."

"Of course. However it happens to be true." Jim waved a hand towards the door. "You can always find out for yourself."

As he'd hoped, Blair hesitated, uncertainty showing in his face. "How would I do it? I can't get anybody to tell me."

"You could kill me." Jim smiled faintly at the widening of Blair's eyes. "Or you could leave the planet. I'm told a great enough distance between Sentinel and Guide would break the bond, but I'm afraid I don't know the precise figures."

"What in hell are you playing at?" Blair's face went white with fury, and it seared across the bond, making Jim gasp in pain. "Do you want to get rid of me? Have you found a better candidate or something?"

Jim shook his head wearily. "Let's just get this straight. In all the history of this planet, and beyond - as far back as we know anything about Sentinels - there has never been a record of a Sentinel surviving the loss of his or her Guide by more than a few days. There has never been a record of a Sentinel taking another Guide after their first bonding. If this bond is broken I will die. You might survive. Probably, you won't."

"Then why..."

"When you were brought here I was dying. I'd been unbonded for over a year. Only a handful of Sentinels have ever survived that long without a Guide." Jim shrugged. "But believe me, if I'd realised you were unwilling, I would have taken my chances on finding someone else."

Blair was suddenly very still. "So you thought I wanted it? Be original, at least. What rapist doesn't use that excuse?"

"It's not an excuse." Stung, his voice was sharper than Jim intended. "I know what I've done. When it started, I had no idea... I was barely in control of my senses, and I thought you wanted it as much as I did. By the time I realised, it was almost too late."

"Almost?" Blair's eyes were fixed on his face. His voice was hushed and fearful.

Jim nodded. He had to force himself to continue; Blair deserved the truth. All of it. "There was a moment, a few seconds at most... when I knew. And I didn't stop."

There was a dense silence in the big chamber, except for the harsh sound of Blair's breathing. His face was even paler than before and, as Jim watched his frozen expression for any hint of reaction, tears began to trickle down his cheeks. And still he made no sound. Then, just as Jim felt he had to go to his Guide, regardless of the consequences, Blair turned and fled to his room.

"Jim." Simon's voice was more nasal than usual, and his use of Jim's name signalled that the business part of their meeting was over. "We need to talk."

Jim turned a carefully blank face to his friend. He'd been expecting something like this. "About what?"

"I think you know." When Jim's expression didn't change, Simon continued. "The council is worried about... well, about the kid. They think he's unsuitable, and that he has an undue influence on you."

It was far from funny, but Jim couldn't help smiling. "Simon, for fuck's sake..."

"No. Hear me out, Jim." Simon waited, his dark face utterly serious, for Jim to nod his acquiescence. "They know what he's been up to. Who he's sleeping with. He's even been trying to find out how to break the bond."

"I know." Jim sighed, all impulse to humour draining away. "I told him myself, but he doesn't believe anything I tell him."

"Damnit, Jim! Do you want to die?" Simon's eyes blazed at him. "This is exactly the kind of thing the council's worried about."

"No, I don't want to die, but I have no right to coerce Blair into staying here against his will." Jim gritted his teeth and forced himself to speak more calmly. "What do the council want me to do? He's my bonded Guide. I can't exactly trade him in. I can't make him care about his position, about the planet." About me, his mind insisted on adding. "He hates me, Simon. I don't know if I can ever win him over, but I won't do anything to jeopardise that chance. The council are just going to have to let me deal with this in my own way."

"Just so long as you do deal with it." Simon relaxed almost imperceptibly. "What in the seven hells do you hope to achieve?"

"That I can keep him here long enough for the bond to influence him." Even as he said it, Jim acknowledged to himself that he had little hope of doing so. "The only thing that's keeping him here right now is the fear of being caught trying to escape."

Simon grunted. "Maybe I should increase the patrols. If he can't get out of here..."

"No!" Jim was as surprised as Simon by his own vehemence. "If he thinks there's no hope... Simon, I don't like to think about what he might do. The mood he's in now... anger is the only thing that's keeping him going."

"And what's keeping you going, my friend?"

Jim shrugged, unnerved by the sympathy in Simon's voice. "I don't have a choice. Do I?"

Councillor Strennan rose ponderously to his feet and Jim kept his polite facade, but underneath he was groaning in frustration. The young man was pedantic enough now; what on earth would he be like in twenty years time? Unfortunately, blocking him out wasn't an option. He might be infuriatingly slow and mind-numbingly boring, but he almost always came out with useful ideas and insights. If Jim could keep his mind focused enough to actually take his words in.

He thought he was succeeding quite well this time, until a slowly rising tide of heat distracted him. He knew exactly what was causing it - somewhere, Blair was having sex again. It had been a major mistake to allow him to realise just how much Jim was able to sense about him from a distance. Now he was using it like a weapon against his Sentinel.

As his body continued to respond in tandem with Blair's increasing arousal, Jim's patience finally snapped. He pushed himself hurriedly to his feet and Strennan stopped, mid-sentence.

"My apologies, councillors. I'm going to have to leave." He waved the others back to their seats. "Please continue without me."

He swept out of the council room, his senses already extending, seeking his Guide. As always, he found Blair's heartbeat first; then it was simply a matter of following the sound to its source. In this case, it was somewhere on the third level - the area set aside for higher officials who needed to reside in the palace for whatever reason. Jim found the apartment without much trouble and simply walked in, ignoring the red-faced security officer currently assigned to Blair's protection.

"What are you..." The apartment's owner fell suddenly silent as he realised who his uninvited guest was. He hurriedly pulled away from Blair and dragged a sheet across his lap. "Sire... I, uh..."

Jim smiled pleasantly. "Please, there's no need to stand on ceremony here."

The man's flushed face paled suddenly and he all but fell out of his bed, then drew himself up to attention, one corner of the sheet still clutched to his groin. Blair lay watching the interplay, an apparently detached observer.

"Blair." Jim turned his attention to his Guide. "I need to talk to you."

"So talk."

"Alone." Jim took a couple of steps forward and wrapped his hand around Blair's bicep. "If you don't mind."

It took an effort of will to drag his Guide out of the bed and back across the room. Only the certainty that he could hold Blair firmly enough to prevent an escape without physically harming him allowed Jim to override his protective instincts. It seemed, however, that those instincts didn't extend to sparing Blair public humiliation. In fact it gave him some pleasure to drag his naked Guide through busy hallways and into the elevator to the fifth level and the Royal Apartments.

Blair could have made it considerably more difficult had he wanted to. Obviously, he had other things on his mind, but the moment they were through the door Jim grabbed his other arm and held him at arm's length.

"All right. You've made your point, Sandburg." He growled the words between clenched teeth. "You want to punish me? Go right ahead. But don't ever screw with me when I'm in a council meeting. Whatever you want to do to me... I guess I deserve it, but I have certain responsibilities to the people on this planet, and I'm not going to let you interfere with that in any way. Do you understand?"

Something between a scowl and a sneer crossed Blair's face. "What are you gonna do about it, Jim? Bend me over a desk and show me who's boss?"

He didn't know which hurt worse, the words themselves, or the ugly sense of satisfaction at his reaction that reached him through the bond. He released his Guide and stepped back. "That won't happen. I've given you my word on it."

"And I'm supposed to trust your word." Blair stood rubbing his arm, though Jim was well aware he hadn't inflicted any damage. "This may seem strange to you, but I have a problem with that."

"It doesn't have to be like this. Blair, we could be so much better together." There was no softening of Blair's face, no sense of readiness to compromise or co-operate, only hard, cold anger and pain. Defeated, Jim turned away.

"You're wrong. You're so wrong." Blair's voice was becoming ragged. "It does have to be like this. You have no idea, do you? You have no idea what you've done to me."

"Blair..." Strange how the urge to protect and comfort his Guide still wouldn't be denied. His rational mind told him it was useless, but something deeper told him he had to try. He was still turning back when Blair grabbed his arm. He felt a tearing sensation as the bond between them opened to a degree it was never meant to carry. A flood of images and emotions crashed into him and he fell to his knees.

Agony. An anguish that knew no bounds. And then numbness, a sense of being dead inside. Jim sobbed with lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. His gut churned as new images exploded inside him. He felt the warmth of a body at his back, the slow glide of a cock inside him, the heat of arousal in his groin. Pleasure turned to horror to fear as the realisation grew that this was not one of many lovers, not even a casual lay - this was a stranger, an attacker. He tried to fight, but couldn't even raise the strength to speak at first. Words jostled in his mind - no, please, don't, help, stop - but his ability to process them into actual speech was non-existent. His arms and legs felt as if they were weighted down. A whisper inside his head resolved finally into words. With growing revulsion he heard the softly spoken endearments, felt the gentle kisses on his bare skin and somehow they gave him the strength to protest. He was ignored. The feeling of powerlessness was suffocating him and he struggled to gain control of his body, to push this monster away from him, to stop his body responding. How could he be responding? How could his own body betray him so horribly? Disgust and despair blanketed him and if he could have died right then, he would have gladly embraced it. And still that hated voice whispered loving words into his ear. The orgasm, when it came was the final, worst betrayal.

He was retching, the taste of bile sour on his tongue; his heart was racing. Jim managed to lift his head enough to see Blair's bare feet on the far side of a puddle of his own vomit. He felt like he'd been beaten all over his body.

"Now you know." Blair's voice was cold and distant but Jim could hear him panting. However he'd done this, it had cost him almost as much as it had Jim. "What d'ya think, Jim? Did you enjoy it? Was it good for you, sweetheart?"

"Blair..." It took an effort just to groan out his name. He couldn't possibly hope to achieve anything with Blair right now. "...we can talk later. Please, just call Rafe."

His eyes blurred suddenly, all his senses jumbled into incoherence and by the time he'd untangled them, Blair was gone.

It was certainly one of the more humiliating experiences of his life. By the time Rafe had helped Jim to his bed and stripped off the vomit-speckled clothing, Jim was ready to sleep for a month, if only to avoid dealing with the aftermath. Except that he couldn't. He forced his eyes to remain open and washed his mouth out with the mint-flavoured water Rafe brought him. He could hear someone cleaning up the mess in the other room and grimaced. Then he cast his senses out as wide as possible, searching for Blair.

"Something's wrong." He sat bolt upright in bed. "I have to find Blair."

"Maybe you should wait. I sent Henri after him. He'll take care of him for you." Rafe tried to push him back down.

"No. Something's wrong." Jim shoved aside the covers, finding the strength from somewhere to keep him on his feet while he staggered to his wardrobe for clothing. "I have to find him."

Trying to dress himself while searching for Blair's presence proved to be an error of judgement. If it hadn't been for Rafe's support as he pulled on a pair of loose pants and sweater, Jim would never have managed it. He finally located Blair's heartbeat, sounding weak and uneven and a long way from the apartments, and his sense of something being very wrong increased.

He tapped the implant urgently. "Simon. Blair needs help. He's somewhere in the basement levels. You have to find him."

"Jim, there are three basement levels. Do you have any idea how long it'll take?" He heard Simon's muffled voice speaking to someone else for a moment. "I'll get every security team I've got onto it."

"I'll let you know more when I can." Jim turned back to Rafe. "Don't let me zone, okay?"

Rafe's smile was grim. "I'll just drop you if it looks like you're going under."

"You do that." He concentrated again on sound. He had Blair's heartbeat again in a moment, but there were no other sounds nearby to give him any other clues to Blair's location. He added scent and immediately started to choke on the sickly tang of blood. It overwhelmed any other smells that might have helped, and Jim couldn't focus past his anxiety to filter it out. Only the continuing beat of Blair's heart, though noticeably weaker, prevented Jim from panicking. Taste and touch were useless in this instance, but for a moment Jim thought he caught a flicker of something. He closed his eyes, flinging his senses dangerously wide and caught a fragmentary glimpse of a hallway and door. Blair was behind that door. If only he could... And then he had it.

"Simon! Level B2, room 1553. He's in there. He's bleeding. I'm on my way." Jim didn't wait for an acknowledgement, but pulled away from Rafe and headed for the door.

Rafe was with him all the way to the elevator and through the maze-like corridors on Basement Level 2. If he hadn't been, Jim might not have managed it. As it was, it seemed to Jim to be an eternity before he saw the security team outside room 1553. "Let me past."

"Sire, the medics are..."

Jim pushed past the young guard with a low growl. Inside the small storage room another security guard bent over Blair's still body. The stench of blood was overpowering. He dropped to his knees beside his Guide, resisting the urge to push the medic away.

Blair's arm was cut open from his wrist almost to his elbow, and only a tourniquet around his arm was stopping him from bleeding to death. The medic was carefully sealing the wound with a small cellular regenerator. She finished a moment later and applied a patch to the inside of Blair's upper arm before releasing the tourniquet.

"Sire!" The medic leapt to her feet. "I'm sorry... I didn't realise..."

"At ease." Jim dragged his eyes away from Blair's pale face long enough to smile reassuringly up at her. Outside, he could hear Simon's nasal voice giving orders. "You probably saved his life. I'm in your debt."

If she answered him, he didn't hear it. He was too busy stroking one finger down Blair's cheek. It felt chilled, and he pulled the limp body into his arms, trying to warm his Guide.

"Sire?" Simon's voice pulled him from a near zone. "We need to move him. There's a stretcher here."

Jim released Blair reluctantly into the hands of a couple of civilian orderlies and rose shakily to his feet. Rafe was at his side, helping him out into the corridor while Blair was lifted into the stretcher and covered with a thermal blanket. They followed the orderlies back to the elevators and up to the Royal Apartments.

He hadn't been inside Blair's suite at all, wanting Blair to feel secure in his own space, but now his protective instincts demanded that he remain at Blair's side. He sat beside Blair's bed, in a chair supplied by Rafe, and watched as Blair was put to bed and Dr Morrison inspected the medic's handiwork. The older man straightened after a while, making a grudging sound of approval.

"She did a good job, considering the limited means at her disposal. The vein is properly sealed and the patch is stimulating blood production very nicely." Morrison nodded complacently at Jim. "Of course, the regenerator won't prevent scarring, but we can deal with that once the wound is healed."

"No." Blair's voice came weakly from the depths of his pillows. "I want the scar."

Obviously startled, Morrison seemed about to argue the point, but Jim intervened. "If that's what he wants, it's what he gets. Is there anything else, doc?"

"For the moment, no." Morrison took the blatant hint and began packing away his instruments. "You should stay in bed for a couple of days, Blair. Otherwise, you'll be just fine."

"I'm sure." Weakness was no impediment to Blair's sarcastic tone. He was studiously avoiding looking at Jim.

Neither of them spoke until the door closed; then Jim levered himself slowly out of the chair and moved closer to the bed. Blair still wouldn't meet his eyes. With a small sigh Jim touched the backs of his fingers to the cheek nearest him. Blair turned his head away.

"Promise me you'll never do that again." His voice sounded harsher that Jim would have liked and he paused, swallowing past an ache in his throat.

Silence.

He tried again. "Blair, please."

"Why? So you don't have to feel guilty?" There was only weariness in Blair's voice.

In spite of his exhaustion and fear, Jim managed a faint smile. "No. Because killing yourself is a stupid way to punish me."

There was a long pause. Then, "I guess I can't argue with that."

"You surprise me." He bent over and brushed his lips gently against Blair's forehead, withdrawing before his Guide could object. "You need to sleep. I'll leave you alone."

Henri was hovering outside the door, his normally cheerful face clouded with anxiety. "Sire..."

"Don't let him out of your sight."

It must have been hours later when a sound jerked him out of an almost sleeping state, and Jim turned his head towards the door of Blair's chamber. His Guide was standing in the doorway, barefooted and wearing a light sleeping robe. Jim straightened, but didn't dare move from his seat. Their eyes met across the wide room; Blair's were as sombre and weary as his own.

"Jim?" Blair's voice was no more than a whisper. "Are you..." The slender body swayed a little and Blair's knuckles whitened as his fingers tightened on the doorframe.

It looked as though he might collapse at any moment. Jim went over to him, cautious even now, as Blair took a couple of steps then buckled at the knees. Jim caught his Guide's arm, supporting Blair until he could get an arm around him. The dark head rested against his chest for a moment.

"I... I'm sorry..." Blair's voice was weak, and he sounded close to tears. "What I did... it was no different from... from..."

"From what I did? Blair, I raped you." Jim forced the words out. "I deserved everything you did, and more."

"No!" Blair looked up, meeting Jim's eyes with an obvious effort. "No. You deserved to be punished, but not like that."

"Some people wouldn't agree with you."

"Maybe not." Blair swayed again, and clung to Jim's sweater with shaking fingers. A watery laugh escaped him. "It's kinda ironic don't you think? You're the only person who really understands what it was like."

He was crying quietly, his face buried against Jim's chest. Jim pressed his face into the dark curls and felt tears flooding his eyes in defiance of a lifetime of training and denial. He knew exactly what he had done to Blair, what Blair had felt. He wasn't ready to forgive himself, and he doubted Blair was ready to forgive him either. Reluctant need was in every line of his Guide's body, hiding behind every softer emotion Jim could feel through the bond. Blair needed him, and probably hated him all the more for it. And he knew that he would do anything he could to help his bond-mate, and then accept the inevitable withdrawal when the reopened wounds healed enough for Blair not to need him any more. It was the least he could do.

In the meantime, nothing could take away from the pleasure he felt at such physical closeness, Jim opened his senses to a degree he couldn't possibly risk unless he was touching his Guide. Information flooded in, and he stored away the scent, the feel of this beloved body, cataloguing the minutest details for a time when Blair would turn away and he would be alone again. It was heaven. He could easily hear Blair's heartbeat, could even hear the rush of blood through his veins. He knew more about this man than he would ever know about anyone else. And he knew nothing.

Moving cautiously, he walked backwards, drawing Blair with him, until he could ease down into his chair with Blair sprawled awkwardly across his lap. He continued to hold the younger man until Blair fell into an exhausted sleep.

"Sire, what you suggest... it's not possible." Dr Tarleton smiled sympathetically. "The bond allows you to ground yourself. There's a rudimentary ability to sense one another's emotional and physical states; but to share memories, experiences, actual thoughts... that's unheard of."

"It happened." The memory was as bright and fresh and painful as it had been yesterday. "Whatever it was, it's like a door has been opened. I felt things, knew things that I couldn't possibly have..." Jim's voice cracked. He'd experienced what it had been like for Blair the night he'd raped his Guide. "It's how I knew where to find him when he tried to kill himself. I can still feel it if I try." He didn't add that he went out of his way to avoid feeling it. It was too much like mental voyeurism for him to be comfortable with it.

"But..." Tarleton sighed. "Sire, I'd like to help. If we could verify this phenomenon..." his eyes lit up briefly before he sighed again, "but you've forbidden us to question Blair, and I don't see..."

Jim knew where this was headed and held up his hand to silence his physician. "You've conducted a complete physical, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Then use the information you already have. You can do anything you like as long as you leave Blair alone." He glared at the lanky man. "You have access to the most comprehensive databases in the known universe. Surely you can find something. I don't even know what system he comes from."

"I'm sure Security Chief Banks could..."

"I'm sure he could, but I have no intention of asking my Chief of Security to investigate my Guide." Jim sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "In any case, he's not equipped to answer these questions. You're the scientist. I don't need progress reports, just send me the information when you're finished. I want you to handle it yourself; nobody else is to be involved and I want it done as soon as possible. Do you understand?"

The older man nodded. "I'll get onto it right away, Sire."

The night was utterly still, yet something had woken him. Jim lay unmoving for a while, allowing his senses to scan for anything unusual in his chamber, then cast them out further. Deliberately, he filtered out any awareness of his Guide, determined to allow Blair what privacy he could. Besides, if Blair was entertaining someone in his chamber, did he really want to know? The answer was easy. He didn't.

But something was tugging at him and eventually he realised that it wasn't his senses, it was the bond. That meant Blair. Cautiously, Jim opened himself a little further, allowing whatever mysterious process it was that bound him to Blair to fill his mind. Blair was definitely awake, and in the grip of some strange, complex emotional state. Not agitation. Not fear or anger. Not arousal. There was a hint of steely determination and a tinge of regret, but otherwise Jim could make nothing of it. His senses told him only that Blair was awake and moving around.

Unable to lie there any longer, Jim slipped out of the bed and wrapped his robe around his bare body. What he thought he could do, Jim had no idea. Certainly, he wouldn't enter Blair's chambers. He moved quietly to the door and opened it a crack. There was nobody in the main room, and the lights were out, though a faint wash of moonlight gave him more than adequate light to see by. Instinctively, he stayed in the shadows, waiting as he had so many times in his younger days when he'd been a highly skilled covert operative, before his status as the son of the Sentinel Prime propelled him on a fast-track to Commander-in-Chief.

It wasn't long before his patience was rewarded. The door to Blair's chambers opened as silently as Jim's had and a dark head appeared, turning to scan the large room. So Blair was sneaking out to another assignation? Jim shook his head slightly. No. Something didn't add up; Blair had never felt the need to hide what he was doing. In fact he took pleasure in flaunting his infidelities. Why would he be so furtive now?

Blair's head retreated for a moment and then he emerged, fully dressed and carrying a small bag. Jim's heart seemed to stand still and he forgot to breathe. Blair was leaving. No, more than that. Blair knew that Jim wouldn't stop him from simply moving out of the palace, or even the city. There had to be more - Blair was leaving the planet, running as far as he could in the hope of breaking the bond. There was no other reasonable explanation. It was exactly what he'd feared from the start.

He could put a stop to it right now. He could... what? Force Blair to stay? How? Jim's lips tightened. He would have to put Blair under permanent guard, a polite house arrest. Maybe even imprison him. Blair would never accept his fate meekly; imprisonment would most likely be the only option. He couldn't do that, didn't even want to try.

A tight knot of pain was forming in his chest, and Jim had to struggle just to keep his breathing silent as Blair crossed the floor towards the main door of the apartment. There were no guards; the Royal Apartments were protected by the most advanced electronic system in the known universe. But it had never been designed to keep the inhabitants in. Blair could walk out without tripping a single alarm. Still, Jim did nothing. There was a kind of peace in knowing that it would all be over soon. A few days at most. If only it didn't hurt so much.

When the main door closed behind Blair, Jim finally moved, returning to his bed to lie awake until morning.

Morning came, and Jim could hear the sounds of his awakening household. He usually rose with the first stirrings of the servants, but today he lingered in his bed. Blair wouldn't be missed for a while - Henri would assume he'd spent the night with yet another lover - and Jim had no heart for the task of informing everyone that his bond-mate had abandoned him to die. Even when Rafe began setting out his breakfast in the next room, Jim felt no urge to join him. He certainly had no appetite.

But eventually, it seemed easier to get out of bed than to explain his aberrant behaviour to his aide. He drank coffee listlessly, and toyed with his comms unit, until some instinct, overruling his conscious brain, prompted him to bring up the listings for the spaceport.

Blair would have chosen an early flight, but there were several to choose from. Probably not the cruise liner, though he could have afforded the fare from the generous allowance he received as the Guide of the Sentinel Prime. No, Blair would have chosen some freighter, probably. Somewhere he could blend in. It hadn't taken much insight on Jim's part to recognise Blair's spacer origins.

So, a freighter... There were several long haul freighters due to leave within the next two hours. It seemed unlikely Blair would delay longer than that. But Jim hesitated. It was too obvious a choice. There were at least another half dozen short haul freighters, kept busy taking supplies out to the mining camps on the moons that orbited gas giants on the far edge of the solar system. And from there it would be easy to find a berth on one of the huge ore carriers bound for any number of different systems. It would be slower, but just as effective.

It was still not too late to stop Blair. Except that it had been too late since the moment Jim had claimed him. He drank another coffee and closed down the comms unit. He wouldn't get any work done today. When Rafe came in to clear away the breakfast dishes, he advised his aide to cancel all his meetings for the day.

Alone again, Jim sighed and tapped his implant. "Simon. I need to see you. As soon as possible." Without waiting for Simon's response, he closed the connection.

Jim could feel the bond weakening, become more tenuous with every passing hour. He still didn't know how far away Blair would need to travel, but surely it couldn't be much longer now. At least, he hoped it wouldn't. Jim was tired - tired of fighting Simon's determination to go after Blair, himself if necessary, tired of dealing with the shocked and sympathetic reactions of his councillors and servants, tired of waiting.

Gradually the Royal Apartments emptied as the hour grew later, until Jim finally ordered Rafe to leave. Simon had gone an hour ago, angry and frustrated at Jim's intransigence, and Henri had been making himself scarce since Blair had run away. He sat in the big, formal armchair that his father had always used, and waited. Something told him it was very close now, and he wanted to be alone when it happened.

Jim leaned back into the heavily carved wood and closed his eyes. When the pain came, he gave himself up to it with a sense of relief. Though shocking in its intensity, this was something he could deal with; it was the emotional abyss, and the sense that something deep inside him - his soul? - had been shattered, irreparably demolished, that made him double over, tumbling from the chair to lie gasping in agony on the floor.

He wanted to scream, but no sound escaped his gaping mouth. No sound could ever express the loss he felt right now. He wanted to die rather than endure another second of this emptiness. The tang of blood filled his mouth, warring with the sour taste of bile from his long-empty stomach, and Jim fought to control the convulsive heaving of his gut long enough to drag himself to his feet and stagger towards his private rooms. This was going to be very nasty, and very messy indeed.

Hours later, when it seemed that his body had, one way or another, emptied itself of anything he might had taken in over the last few days, Jim lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. Sleep was very far away, but at least it was better than watching the room sway and heave nauseatingly. His body ached from the rigors of the last few hours and his mind was simply numb. Until he realised he was rubbing his thumb back and forth over the silver bond-ring that he'd worn since the day after he'd found Blair.

All these past weeks he'd worn it as a promise. A sign that their bond would some day become a true partnership of mind and body. Blair had worn his ring only on public occasions. He looked at the plain silver band on the middle finger of his left hand and had to fight back tears of despair. It was never going to happen now. With trembling fingers, he drew the ring off and placed it carefully on the bedside table.

In spite of the pain and weakness, he refused to die in his bed. Ignoring the urging of his doctors, Jim continued making preparations for whoever would rule after him. It would almost certainly be one of his three children, all of whom were under adult-legal age, but since none of them had yet manifested Sentinel abilities, he didn't know which. Karlin, together with Carolyn, their mother, would act as co-Regents and he knew he could count on Simon and Rafe to look after all of them. Still, there was a lot to arrange and he wasn't going to just give up and crawl into a corner to die, however tempting the idea might seem. Besides, he needed something to distract himself from the gaping black hole where the bond had been.

When it became too difficult to move around, Jim retreated again to the large, almost throne-like chair in the main lounge of the Royal Apartments. As a soldier, he'd learned how to wait. It wouldn't be long; he knew he was deteriorating rapidly. Perhaps he dozed a little. But the sound of running footsteps, of harsh breathing sent spikes of pain through his temples, and he lifted his head wearily just as the door flew open.

"Jim!" Simon skidded to a halt in front of him, looking more dishevelled than Jim had ever seen him before, and like he hadn't slept in days. "There's a frigate... damnit, I can't remember which... but they've got him. They've just entered the system and they'll be here in two hours."

There was only one 'him' Simon could be referring to. "Blair? I told you..." a harsh cough interrupted him, "...told you not to send anyone after him."

"I didn't. Sire, I swear it." Simon seemed to be telling the truth, and though he might lie to Jim if he thought it justified, it was hard to believe he would lie to his ruler. But why would Blair return after planning his escape with such efficiency? "The vessel was on a routine stopover at Alderaan. The captain advised me that Blair simply walked up to the officer on guard duty and demanded to be brought back to Cascade. As soon as they verified his identity they started back."

"It doesn't matter. Once it's over, you have to promise you'll look after him." Jim grasped Simon's arm with all the strength he could muster. "Please."

"But if he's coming back..."

"I won't force a bond on him again. I don't even know if it's possible." Jim tightened his grip a little more. "Promise."

Simon nodded reluctantly. "If he lives. You know he probably won't."

"He will. He's too determined to die." Jim smiled faintly, leaning back in the chair. He needed to conserve his strength if he were to see Blair one last time. It felt strange to know that Blair was so close and yet be unable to feel the bond. Strange, and painfully lonely.

They were all there with him when Blair arrived - Simon and Rafe, Henri and Karlin, the doctors. Half the damn council. Blair stopped in the doorway, his eyes darting from one to the other, not looking at Jim. He looked ill; pale, unshaven and shaky.

"Come in, Blair." Jim's voice was weaker than he liked, but it brought Blair's shadowed eyes to his face at last. "I give you my oath, as Sentinel Prime of Cascade, that whatever happens you will not be harmed."

A broken sound came from Blair, and he took two steps forward then stopped again and stood swaying. His eyes seemed to burn into Jim's for a moment and then suddenly filled with tears, but still he said nothing.

Jim had to swallow painfully before he could speak. "Did you return of your own free will or were you forced?"

"Nobody forced me." Blair spoke hoarsely.

A sigh of relief escaped Jim's lips. He signalled to Rafe to clear the room and the two of them waited until they were alone. "Why?"

"Why did I leave? Or why did I come back?" Jim flinched at the bitter edge to Blair's questions.

"I can guess why you left." Jim smiled wryly.

"I had to come back. I didn't want to, I had to." Blair half turned away, his shoulders hunched. "I need it - the bond... I can't..." he dragged in a sobbing breath. "How can you just sit..."

Jim shrugged. "I can't do much else."

Immediately, his errant Guide was at his side, eyes scanning his face and seeing, no doubt, the mess he was in. Just having Blair so near him was sweet agony and he was far beyond the point where he could hide anything, least of all from Blair.

"What do I have to do?"

Jim shook his head. "There's only one possible way to re-establish the bond, and nobody can tell me if it'll work. There's no record of a bond being broken and restored again. If you don't want to..."

"I'll do whatever's necessary. Can you walk if I help you?" Fever-hot hands touched his arm.

"I'll try." Jim smiled weakly. "I'd prefer not to do this on the floor."

The moment he stood, his knees buckled. Blair's hands and body supported him until he regained his balance. Together, they shuffled towards Jim's private rooms. Blair was shaking, not in a much better state than Jim. It had been sheer madness to send the others away, yet the thought of doing this with an audience in the next room was distasteful to say the least. They'd almost made it to the bed when pain shot through Jim's nerve endings and he collapsed. He was dimly aware of his body convulsing and of Blair calling his name in a panicked voice, then nothing.

"Jim? Jim, you have to wake up now."

It was a command, not a request, and Jim responded, though it took nearly every scrap of strength he still possessed. He looked up into Blair's frightened face. "I'm awake."

The weakness in his voice would have alarmed him if he'd been capable of feeling anything right now. He realised, after a moment, that he was naked and lying on his bed. Blair was still fully clothed and the bond... was still broken. "It didn't work?"

"We haven't done anything yet." Blair's face was a study in frustration. "You collapsed. I had to get help. I couldn't manage on my own."

"Okay." Jim closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength. He might, quite simply, be too far-gone to do what was necessary. The thought brought a tinge of panic and forced his eyes open again. "Maybe you should..."

Blair visibly rallied; anger sparked in his eyes and he snarled silently. "I'll do what needs to be done, all right? You don't touch me. You don't speak. You don't do anything."

"Okay." Jim took a deep breath. Whatever Blair needed to do to get through this, Jim would give him, even if it was only silence. He watched in something close to despair as Blair slid out of his pants and clambered onto the bed beside him. Even feeling Blair's anger through the bond would be better than this awful, soul-numbing emptiness.

It seemed little short of a miracle that a single touch of Blair's hand had him hard and aching in seconds. If anything, Jim had been afraid he wouldn't be able to perform at all. Instead he had to bite his lip and clench his fists in the sheets to stop himself from coming immediately. Blair snarled again, his face drawn and intent as he straddled Jim's hips. Then, with no preparation at all, he all but flung himself onto Jim's burning cock. The pain was clear in Blair's face, but he seemed to welcome it. Jim gasped as Blair's greater heat enclosed him, and struggled to remain still.

Sweat was pouring off both of them, dampening the sheet beneath Jim's body and making Blair's long shirt cling to his chest in wet patches. He rode Jim's cock expertly, with no concession to any physical weakness that either of them might feel. Within seconds Jim felt the imminent climax threatening and fought to keep it at bay. Surely it would be better to prolong this as much as possible, or did it even matter? The momentary confusion, as he pondered this was enough to loosen his control. Heat exploded in his groin, making him cry out as his cock pulsed into Blair's body.

It was echoed by another cry - one of anger and frustration. When Jim opened his eyes, Blair was staring down at him, furious, tears streaming from his eyes. With a muttered curse, Blair yanked up his shirt, exposing a flushed, angry cock leaking copious drops of pre-cum. He began to jerk himself off, all the while fixing Jim with a hard, accusing stare. If this failed, Blair's expression told him, it would all be his fault.

Blair's breathing became erratic, his hand movements uncoordinated. Jim felt the channel contract suddenly around his spent, but still hard cock moments before Blair came. It milked another brief orgasm out of him, and his cry mingled with Blair's as the hot cum splattered his chest and belly. Then Blair collapsed across his body.

Seconds passed, and nothing seemed to change. Jim was beginning to think it had all been for nothing; and then he felt it. Tender, incredibly fragile, but unmistakeably there. Shaking, he lifted his Guide's hand to his lips and licked the sticky fingers clean.

For a few, brief, hours there was peace between them. Waking from a light doze, Jim found Blair still in his arms, head tucked into the curve between his shoulder and his throat, fast asleep. He found Blair's hand, lying in the centre of his chest and covered it with his own, then kissed the smooth skin at Blair's temple. Blair stirred, murmuring something incoherent, and then woke. His body tensed momentarily and Jim prepared to release him, though every instinct screamed to hold him close and never, ever let him go again.

But Blair didn't move away. What Jim was feeling - this need, this incredible tenderness - Blair must be feeling at least some of it too, if only through the bond. But Jim suspected that Blair needed him just as desperately as Jim needed Blair. As if to confirm it, Blair snuggled closer, relaxing into Jim's embrace with a contented sigh. Somehow Jim doubted that it would last; but it was so pleasant not to hurt, to feel connected and safe and whole again. He lifted his hand and smoothed back the stray tendrils of hair from Blair's face and, when Blair lifted his head, kissed him gently.

They lay in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity, touching with hands and lips and bodies; building the bond between them once again. Jim ached with the desire to make love to his Guide, yet he held back. He couldn't take advantage of Blair's need, not now, no matter how desperately he wanted to. Once the initial euphoria had worn off, he would do it, if Blair still wanted it. Until then, he submerged himself in the pleasure of the moment, and when Blair finally fell asleep again, he sighed and allowed himself to follow.

He woke up alone. No matter how much he thought he was prepared for this, the reality was all but unbearable. Jim rolled onto his side, facing away from the crumpled covers where Blair had lain. His eyes fell, ironically, on the bond-ring that still lay on his bedside table. A weak smile fought its way past the pain to lift the corners of his mouth. He'd thought the bond was irrevocably broken, but Blair had returned to him. There was still hope. Not much hope, but a little. It would have to be enough. He reached for the ring and slipped it on his finger again.

"Sire." Tarleton's long, lugubrious face stared at Jim from the comms screen, "I have the report you requested."

Report? Jim frowned, then remembered. The information about Blair and his ability to, quite literally, get inside his mind. "I'd almost forgotten. It's taken a while."

"Yes, well..." Tarleton smiled apologetically. "I, uh... suspended my work when... uh..."

"When Blair ran off." Jim shrugged, attempting to look indifferent but not, he thought, succeeding terribly well. "Understandable. What did you find?"

"I think I may have found an explanation for what you experienced." Tarleton's eyes lit up, transforming his face with their eagerness. "Blair's DNA samples indicated that he is a native of the planet Denusia. It's really quite an interesting subject in its own right, you see Denusia was founded in much the same way as Cascade - the settlers wanted to escape persecution due to a genetic advantage which the general human population had come to distrust, and..."

Jim cut ruthlessly across the doctor's enthusiasm. "Is it something to do with the bond?"

"Well, yes, of course." Tarleton looked puzzled for a moment and then smiled. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm a little excited by the whole thing. You see, the Denusian genetic code was engineered, not naturally occurring like the Sentinel gene complex, and it's dominant. The original settlers were mostly doubly dominant, and since the Denusians are a very reclusive people, virtually everybody on the planet has it."

"What is it?" Jim got the words out through gritted teeth.

"They're empaths, Sire. They can sense..."

"I know what an empath is, thank you." Jim rubbed his forehead thoughtfully. It would certainly explain what had happened between Blair and him. It would explain, too, Blair's inability to cope when the bond had been broken. And yet, really, it explained nothing. Jim ignored the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach and dredged up a smile of approval. "Good work, Doctor. Can you forward the report to me? I'd like to read it over thoroughly."

"Of course." Tarleton's face was brimming with eagerness. "Perhaps it would be possible to run some tests? This is very exciting. I'd like..."

"No. No tests." Jim spoke with utter finality. "You're not to talk to Blair about this, do you understand?"

"But..."

"I mean it. He is not to know I requested this investigation." He put every ounce of forcefulness into his voice. "That's an order."

"But, Sire..." Tarleton sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I give you my word."

"Thank you." Jim cut the connection, his mind already elsewhere; reaching out instinctively for Blair. His Guide was on the rooftop, looking out over the city - something he'd been doing a lot in the few days since his return. Jim didn't know what it heralded, but feared it was something unlikely to improve relations between them.

As he'd expected, once the initial intense period of re-bonding had ended, Blair had retreated back to his old pattern of avoiding Jim as much as possible. The only change that Jim could see was that his anger had given way to a more introspective moodiness that was no easier to deal with. In fact, it worried Jim more than the anger had. In such a mood, Blair might be more likely to harm himself. He also seemed to have stopped sleeping around, and Jim didn't know whether to be pleased by this development, or even more concerned.

It was time, Jim realised, to do what he had sworn he wouldn't do - ask Simon to investigate Blair's background. He should have done this months ago, but had wanted to leave Blair some privacy. The other reason - that he had been afraid of what any investigation might reveal - Jim was tempted to avoid exploring; and yet he could no longer ignore the likelihood that Blair had been brought to Cascade unwillingly, in order to claim the reward Jim had offered for locating a prospective Guide. And if that had been done to Blair, what else had happened that Jim did not know about? It was time to find out. Ignorance had not helped to improve his relationship with Blair. He would have to see what knowledge could do.

Waking for the third - or was it fourth? - time, Jim groaned and twisted around in his bed, trying vainly to get comfortable. It seemed like an impossible task. In fact, it was an impossible task, and Jim knew why. Blair.

His Guide had been restless and on edge all day. They'd met only briefly to attend a public audience in the mid-afternoon, but Jim had felt Blair's mood from the moment the younger man had woken that morning. As usual, Blair had offered no explanation, although he must have known that Jim sensed his distraction. Jim had not asked. He knew any questions or expressions of concern would have been unwelcome.

It certainly wasn't the first time Jim had been kept awake by Blair's insomnia, or his nocturnal activities, but it never got any easier to bear. Mixed with his own weariness and desire for sleep was the instinctive urge to offer comfort to his Guide, even though he knew any such offer would certainly be rejected. But perhaps if he used the uniqueness of their bond to discover the source of Blair's disturbance, he could find some way to ease it.

Guiltily aware that he was making excuses to do what he wanted to do anyway, Jim cast his senses out through the bond, seeking Blair. The first part was easy. Blair was in his own bed, and he wasn't alone. Jim could hear two other heartbeats, slow and easy in sleep; and Blair's rapid patter as he struggled to control his breathing. So Blair was taking lovers again. Jim smiled humourlessly - he'd gone sneaking in Blair's private life and found out more than he wanted to know. The only real surprise was that he hadn't noticed it sooner.

In fact... he should have noticed. Jim frowned and linked his sense of smell to his hearing, but found nothing to indicate sexual activity. Blair's two companions were men, and there was a hint of arousal, but certainly no scent of semen, and he would have smelled it no matter how carefully they'd cleaned up afterwards. After a moment he caught a faint whiff of a familiar scent. It was a cologne that Henri had been wearing today, and Jim had noticed because it reminded him of his father. Henri? Blair was sleeping with Henri? And who was the other man?

Jim got his answer half an hour later when Blair's increasing restlessness woke his two companions, and Rafe's sleepy voice mumbled a concerned query.

*"Sorry, guys. I just can't settle tonight." Blair's voice was rough and a little shaky. "You don't have to stay. I'm not gonna sleep anyway."

"No, we'll stay." Rafe's voice was firm. "Come closer."

Bedding rustled and there was a quiet sigh as three bodies rearranged themselves. The delicate whisper of skin against skin was followed by a slight increase in the musky scent of arousal, but as the minutes passed it became obvious that none of the men was going to do anything about it. There was barely a hint of desire colouring Blair's thoughts.

"Blair, you wanna talk about it?" Henri's voice was unusually subdued. "You know we won't tell... uh..."

"I know." Bair sighed. "There's nothing to tell, okay? Go to sleep."

Soon the sound of steady breathing indicated they had done just that. Blair remained awake, but perhaps a little more relaxed than before. Eventually, his vital signs slowed into the patterns of sleep. *
Jim allowed his senses to fade back to normal with a sigh. So, not even Rafe or Henri knew what was happening with Blair. Jim settled himself as comfortably as possible and left a thread of connection open so he could monitor Blair for the remainder of the night.

When the sounds of the usual morning routine began to filter into Jim's room, he rose and pulled on his robe. A hasty check told him that Blair and Henri were sleeping, but it came as no surprise that Rafe was already pulling on his clothing. Only a few minutes later the door of Blair's chambers opened and Rafe came though. He stopped at the sight of Jim waiting for him.

"Sire, I... uh..." For once the impeccable servant was lost for words. He drew himself up and looked his ruler square in the face.

"I'm not angry." Jim smiled faintly. "Incredibly jealous, perhaps, but not angry. I want Blair to have someone he can rely on. I know I can trust you and Henri to look after him."

Rafe nodded warily. "Yes. You can."

"Good." Jim started to turn away.

"Jim." Rafe sounded uncomfortable, even nervous. Jim stopped, but didn't turn back. "We're not having sex with him. He just... he doesn't like to sleep alone. That's all it is."

He did turn then, hoping he could keep control of his voice and face. "If he wants... I'm not giving you an order here, but if he wants to... to... well, you shouldn't say no because of me, okay? Anything he wants, it's okay by me."

Compassion flickered briefly across Rafe's face, and then the mask of the perfect servant fell into place. "I understand. I'm sorry, Jim."

"Jim, are you busy?" The always-disconcerting metallic tone of the comms implant could not hide the worried tone of Simon's voice. "I've finished my report."

"It's nothing important. Come to my office." Jim closed down the file he'd been attempting to read. Something about a military/trade alliance with one of the more strategically important systems in this quadrant. His concentration was shot anyway. He sent a request to Rafe for coffee and some snacks and tried to relax back in his chair.

When Simon came in, the expression on his face told Jim he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "Grab a seat. Have some lunch."

"Okay. Do you want to wait?"

"No." Best to get it over with, Jim decided. "We can talk while we eat."

"Hmm." Simon shifted restlessly, ignoring the food. "All right. There were only fifteen Blair Sandburgs that I managed to track down; it's not such a common name apparently. Most of them I was able to eliminate pretty easily. The last three were a bit more difficult."

"Would it help if I told you that Tarleton's DNA analysis shows Blair is most probably a native of Denusia?"

"It would have if you'd told me sooner." Simon's irritation was a bad sign. He was normally more respectful than that, since Jim had become his ruler instead of just his commanding officer. He sighed heavily. "Anyway, it confirms what I already uncovered. The Blair Sandburg that fits best with our Blair Sandburg comes from a Denusian spacer family. They had a merchant ship, the 'Sandburg's Folly', but it disappeared with all hands around three months ago. Nobody's seen or heard of it since."

"Shit." The bad feeling just kept on getting worse. "Has anybody investigated?"

Simon shook his head. "Apparently not. Denusia is pretty isolationist. The planet doesn't trade much and doesn't have any alliances with other systems. They hardly even trade with other planets in the same system. Nobody seems to care very much that the ship has disappeared."

"And the last known sighting?"

"I thought you'd want to know that." Simon's face grew sombre. "Rikor system. They were heading out to the mining base on Beta-Rikor. Never arrived."

Rikor system was one of their nearest neighbours, only a couple of days travel away. "I don't like this. I want you to investigate. I want to know what happened and how Blair got here. And you can start with that old guy who brought Blair in."

"Already ahead of you, Jim. He's dead." Simon shrugged. "My guess is he was just a dupe for the real instigators. I've got some investigators tracking down his contacts and checking into where the money went."

Jim closed his eyes briefly, struggling to hold in his emotions. The last thing he wanted was for Blair to get any hint of this meeting. "He was kidnapped, wasn't he? For the reward?"

"Probably." Simon was watching him with sympathetic eyes. "If it was pirates... they probably won't have left any witnesses, Jim. Maybe take a few of the crew to sell as slaves, but the rest... are you sure you want to find out?"

"I have to know." And if his worst fears were realised, how was he ever going to face Blair? "I want you to find the people who did this. I want to make them pay, you hear? And if any of his family survived, then I want them found."

"I hear." Simon pushed himself out of his chair. "Don't worry, Jim. I'll use every resource I have to track them down."

Jim swayed to the right, easily evading the blow aimed at his head, and left himself wide open for a vicious jab to his ribs. He managed to block it, but the effort left him gasping. He was seriously out of shape and the practice bout was exposing his inadequacies mercilessly. He stepped back, bowing to his instructor.

"I'm sorry. I'm wasting your time." He turned to leave the mat, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Jim, you've been through a hell of a year. It's going to take time to recover the fitness and skills you've lost." The smaller man smiled. He wasn't even breathing hard. "Take a breather, and we'll go through some easier routines before we finish for the day. You need to warm down."

"Thanks." He walked over to the bench and wiped his face and chest with a small towel. Frustration was his main problem, he knew. He'd barely begun to get back on his feet, so to speak, after the long deterioration while he was unbonded. When Blair had broken the bond, it had hit him hard. Now it felt like he was having to start all over again from the beginning.

A couple of sips of water eased his raw throat and he tipped some over his head and shoulders to cool himself a little. He stepped up to the mat and bowed again, enjoying the archaic formality between student and master. It was the one place on the planet where his rank was meaningless.

They took up position, Jim watching warily for his master's first move. Suddenly, the comms implant broke through his concentration and he threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender and stepped back. "I hope this is important, Simon. I said I didn't want to be disturbed."

"It is." Simon's voice was grim. "Carolyn wants to speak with you. Urgently."

His master was moving away, giving him privacy. Jim went back to his bench and sat, his heart suddenly racing. "What is it? One of the kids?"

"She didn't say. Want me to patch you through to her?"

"Please." While the link was being set up, Jim pulled a sweatshirt over his head and was wrestling his arms into the sleeves when his Consort's voice came through the implant.

"Jim." She sounded reasonably calm, and the worst of Jim's fears subsided. "Lissa's manifested."

"What? When?" It was impossible. Lissa was just a baby, hardly seven years old. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes, of course I am." Carolyn sighed sharply. "She started feeling it last night, but I thought it might just be a chill. She's far too young..."

He allowed her to spill it all out, while his mind grappled with this new twist in his life. His youngest child and only daughter was a Sentinel. "Look, Caro, I'll get there as soon as I can. A couple of hours at most. How's she bearing up?"

"It's bad, Jim." He could hear the tears in her voice. "My doctor said it's because she's too young to be able to deal with the senses. She needs..."

"I know what she needs. But it'll take time." He was heading for the apartments as fast as he could without actually breaking into a run. "I'm practically on my way now, okay? I'll bring some people. Lissa'll be fine in no time."

Finally, he'd reached the private lifts. He dived into one and used the retina scan to activate it. Ten seconds later he stepped out into the vestibule of the Royal Apartments. "Caro, I've got to go now, okay?"

"Okay." He heard a sniff and a quiet sigh. "But you'll come?"

"Of course I will. Lissa's my daughter." And now his heir too. Jim cut the connection with a quick tap. Then opened another. "Simon, patch me through to Rafe." And when Rafe came on line, "Rafe. I'm on my way back to the Apartments. Get my groundcar ready for a trip out of town. It's urgent."

Jim was halfway to his private chamber when Blair's door opened and his Guide stepped out. "Blair." He stopped, changed direction as an idea struck him. Blair was an empath; surely he could help Lissa, even though there was no bond between them. "I need your help."

For once, when he'd had the situation explained to him, Blair was unexpectedly co-operative. Jim even managed to imply that he'd deduced Blair's empathic ability from their experiences with the bond, thus avoiding the issue of the investigation he'd ordered. In little more than twenty minutes, they were both in Jim's private groundcar on their way to Carolyn's estate. Jim was aware that Blair was watching him, but until they reached the outskirts of the city, Jim preferred to pilot the car himself and had no attention to spare. When they got to the open countryside, he put the machine onto autopilot and turned to look at his Guide.

"Well? Are you going to say what's on your mind?"

Blair looked offended. "Man, I can't believe you. You've never even told me you had a wife and kids."

"Yeah, it's hard to believe, seeing as how you're so interested in knowing all about my life." An all too familiar defensiveness made the sarcasm in his voice sharper than he intended. Blair flushed and turned his head away. "I'm sorry. I just... I haven't seen any of them in a while and... and anyway, Carolyn isn't my wife. We had a contract; she's my Consort. That's all."

"But they're your family." Blair looked appalled.

"You'd have to know my family to understand." Jim shrugged. "I would never have had kids, if Marla - my brother's Guide - hadn't been unable to have children. Hell, I had a vasectomy when I was twenty. But Stephen refused outright to have a child with anyone else, not even in vitro."

"So, you didn't... uh..."

"Do it the old fashioned way?" Jim smiled wryly. "No. I deposited sperm before the op, just as a precaution. When we found out Marla was infertile, I drew up a contract with Caro. I wasn't around much - I was Commander-in-Chief of the Army until this happened," he waved a hand indicating the two of them, "so they haven't exactly seen a lot of me."

Blair's upper lip curled in something close to a snarl. "So they're what? Breeding stock to carry on the great Ellison line?"

"You could put it like that." As unpromising a beginning as this was, it gave Jim a chance to tell Blair something about himself and his situation. He only hoped that Blair was in a mood to really listen. "You know how Cascade was settled?"

"A group of Sentinels and their Guides wanting to escape persecution?" Blair nodded. "Daryl's told me some. And Henri."

"They knew that, over time, they'd gradually become a minority again. Sentinel abilities come from a specific combination of genes; they're not that common, even in Sentinel families. So the Founders drew up a charter, that all legislation had to be agreed to by an elected head of state, who also had to be a Sentinel." Jim waited for Blair's reaction, but there was none. "Eventually, the position became hereditary. It passed to my family when the previous ruling family died out. There was a reason for that."

"Yeah?" Blair seemed genuinely interested. "What was that?"

"Each generation has only one Sentinel. Nobody knows why that is." Jim shrugged. This was family history, drummed into him from an early age. "By that time there'd been a few fairly vicious battles over the succession. There was no specific right of inheritance; the current ruler usually just named his or her successor. If that didn't happen for some reason, things could get nasty."

"But, in your family that wasn't a problem?" Blair grinned. "I can see that would be an advantage. But if your brother was a Sentinel, then why are you one too?"

"That's the other reason my family were chosen. We're all of us latents. If the head of the family dies and there's no member of the near family to take his or her place, one of their close adult relatives will manifest. A sibling or direct descendant, if there is one." Jim smiled grimly. "That's how I got into this situation. My father and brother were killed in an accident and my kids were too young. I was the only close adult relative. I certainly never wanted to be a Sentinel, much less Sentinel Prime. You have no idea how relieved I was that Stephen manifested instead of me."

"And now your daughter's a Sentinel."

"Yes." Jim frowned at the thought. "She's really too young to be manifesting. It usually happens around puberty. It's pretty tough for a young child. I can't help wondering if..." he saw Blair's curious expression and decided to continue anyway. "Maybe it's because of the bond being broken. I should have died. Maybe that's what set her off."

"Oh." He saw Blair digest that, his brow wrinkling a little in concern. "And you really think I can help her?"

He nodded emphatically. "You're a Guide and an empath. If anyone can help her right now, it's you. At least until we find a Guide for her."

Blair's face suddenly went a sickly shade of white. "No! No, man, there's no way I'm being a part of that. You can turn around right now."

"Blair." Jim reached out a hand and then drew it back as Blair instinctively shrank back. He knew how much Blair hated to be touched by him, but his Guide's reaction had shaken him badly. He should have known this would happen, and cursed himself that he hadn't thought of it. "Listen, it's not going to be like... like it was for us. Lissa's only seven years old. Most Sentinels manifest around the age of puberty, the sex comes later. Usually much later, when they've had a chance to bond in other ways."

He could see Blair was shaking, though whether with anger or fear, Jim wasn't sure; but with the inner courage that he'd seen so many times now, Blair pulled himself together and stared stony-faced at him. "But it still happens. Does the Guide get a choice about this? Do you even ask if they want to be a Guide?"

"I've never known anyone turn down the chance to be a Guide. Blair, what happened between us was so far from normal that it's not even on the same planet." Jim took in a deep, shaky breath as remembered shock and guilt sent his pulse racing. "I promise you, Lissa's Guide, whoever he or she is, will be willing. Once that initial bond is set, neither of them will want to have sex with anyone else."

"Yeah?" Blair's voice was sceptical. "It doesn't seem that way to me."

"You've been fighting it since the beginning." Jim's mouth was dry and he had to swallow painfully. Even talking about it was difficult. "I guess if you're determined enough, you can overcome the natural instincts of the bond."

Enlightenment dawned on Blair's face. "Can you? I mean..."

"I haven't tried." Jim stared out the window for a moment while Blair digested that. "We're almost there. Are you still willing to help?"

There was a long silence before Blair answered. "I'll help your daughter. I can't promise more than that."

Lissa seemed tiny, lying in her mother's large bed. Her eyes were swollen from crying and her forehead was furrowed with pain. Sweat darkened the daffodil yellow of her hair to a dark brown and her arms were covered in scratch marks from her attempts to ease the itching of her reddened skin. Jim stood at the foot of the bed with Carolyn and watched as Blair sat gingerly on the edge and took hold of Lissa's hand.

"Can she hear me?" Blair looked up at the doctor standing beside him.

"Yes. The white noise generators are on the lowest setting. There's not really a lot more we can do, though." Tarleton, dispatched by Jim to tend to his daughter, had arrived only half an hour before them. "Unfortunately, Lissa is too young for us to risk the drugs that would help an adult Sentinel to control their senses in the absence of a Guide."

Blair's shoulders tensed visibly at the mention of a Guide, but he leaned forward, close to the little girl's ear and began to talk quietly. Even Jim couldn't tell what he was saying, with the interference of the white noise generators, but he could see the minute softening of his daughter's face as Blair continued to talk. "It's working."

Beside him Carolyn let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

He watched as Blair's hand reached out and began to stroke the sweat-damp hair. It sent a sharp pang of jealousy through Jim to see Blair's tenderness towards another Sentinel, even though that Sentinel was his daughter. Another part of him ached for a touch such as the one Blair was bestowing on Lissa. Blair glanced back at him, his eyes wide with shock and Jim flushed, ashamed and annoyed with himself for having so little self-control. By the time he'd gotten his emotions under wraps again, Blair had resumed the quiet murmur that was calming Lissa and easing her pain.

Jim took Carolyn's arm and drew her out of the room. "I've got my staff checking for suitable prospects. They should have a list drawn up soon. Then it's just a matter of sending out the notifications. With luck it won't take more than a week."

"A week!" Carolyn paled. "Jim, you saw what she's like. Unless you plan on leaving Blair here with her, a week is going to be far too long."

"All right." Jim ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, thinking fast. "If the Sentinel-Guide Academy agrees, I could take Lissa to the candidates that are close enough. I'll need Blair's help though. He may not want to do it."

"Why ever not?" Carolyn looked at him as though he was mad.

Shaken, Jim managed a stuttered "He... has issues." The last thing he needed right now was to explain to Carolyn what those issues were and how they came about. "I'll talk to the Academy first."

For once luck was on Jim's side. There were four possible Guides for Lissa within a three-hour flight from Carolyn's estate. If his luck, or Lissa's, continued to hold, one of the four would be the one to bond with her. The gods help them all if Lissa had the same phenomenal bad luck that had attended Jim's attempts to find a Guide. She probably wouldn't survive half as long as Jim had.

Even more astoundingly, Blair had relented enough to agree to come with them. Jim programmed the most efficient flight plan into Carolyn's light flyer - which would be much faster than a groundcar - and they left as soon as it was done. Lissa was wrapped in a blanket and settled on Blair's lap, her head resting quietly on Blair's chest. She already looked a lot better than she had two hours before.

The first two prospective Guides were a washout. Lissa barely even bothered to raise her head from Blair's shoulder to look at the two boys, both of them slightly younger than her. Jim smiled diplomatically, commiserated at their lack of fortune and left as soon as possible. The third seemed hopeful, at first. The girl was ten years old, but that could be an advantage, given Lissa's extreme youth; and she was keen. Her infectious excitement seemed to bode well, but it quickly became obvious that she was in love with the idea of being a Guide - anyone's Guide. Lissa roused herself enough to smile a little, but Jim could tell there was no deeper connection.

That left one last chance. If this next child wasn't suitable, there would have to be a more formal gathering for the children who lived further away. Two of them from Olympia, Cascade's other main landmass, and five from Permioan. It couldn't be done in less than a week.

Jim landed the flyer in a paddock outside the rambling, run-down building that must be home to the family of the fourth candidate. The land seemed to be in good condition, but the house showed definite signs of neglect. This, obviously, was a poor family - there was no sign of any modern machinery at all, reminding Jim that the family were members of a religious sect that believed in living a deliberately primitive lifestyle. He led the way to the front door and Blair followed with Lissa still cradled in his arms.

"Maybe this time, sweetie." Blair's voice was low, an encouraging whisper. "What d'you think?"

Lissa smiled wanly. "Maybe."

Jim knocked on the door, and waited. It seemed like a long time before he heard footsteps through the heavy wooden door. When it opened, he stared in surprise at the tall, thin man who stood there wearing clothing that was shabby and ill fitting. His face was pinched and disapproving as he stared at his ruler without any sign of recognition - unlike the previous households they'd visited.

"You're here about Yanosh?" Something about the man's voice grated on Jim's nerves. The man turned back into the house. "You'd better come in. Yanosh! Get yourself here!"

Instead of a single boy, a whole herd of youngsters came stampeding into the wide, dank hallway. Jim stopped, relieved at the excuse not to go any further into a building that, to his nostrils, reeked of decay. The children ranged in age from toddlers to youngsters in their early teens, most of them of indeterminate gender, dressed as they were in baggy tunics and pants made of the same rough-woven cloth.

"Clear out, all of you brats!" The man's sharp, nasal voice made Jim wince instinctively. "Yanosh, step forward before I belt you."

Even before the small crowd dispersed, Jim was aware of Lissa's reaction. She lifted her head from Blair's shoulder and was staring intently into the swirling melee. When it cleared, leaving a small, skinny boy with straight, raggedly cut sandy hair and a disarmingly gap-toothed smile, she began to wriggle in Blair's arms.

"Let her down." Jim nodded encouragingly to his daughter. "Lissa, this is Yanosh."

She brushed past Jim as though he didn't exist, as though nothing and nobody existed except that ungainly scrap of a boy who stood shyly alone in the middle of the floor, staring at her as though she was some magical creature out of the old stories. Again, Jim felt that pang of jealousy. It was so easy for them, and so very hard for him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his attention to the man who must be Yanosh's father.

"Mr Schywzinski, we have some talking to do."

Less than an hour later they were all, Yanosh included, in the flyer heading back to Carolyn's estate. The two children were sitting in the back, firmly belted into their seats and drowsing contentedly, their hands loosely twined together. From the moment Lissa had first reached out to touch the boy, they hadn't been out of physical contact for a moment. It was a good start.

Blair was staring out the window at the scenery, though only Sentinel vision would have much hope of seeing anything as the light faded rapidly. Somehow, Jim suspected that he wasn't really looking. He'd been extremely quiet during the discussion with Yanosh's parents, withdrawing more and more into himself as his anxiety radiated through the bond. As soon as he could, Jim switched to autopilot so he could give all his attention to his Guide.

"What's bothering you, Blair?" Jim said it as gently as he could, partly out of concern for Blair, but also because he didn't want the children to be involved.

"You just don't see anything wrong with this, do you?" Blair turned his head to face Jim. "You bought that boy."

"No, I didn't. He's not a slave. He has rights, including the right to leave if he wants to." Jim hesitated, knowing this discussion wasn't really about Yanosh, but not sure whether it was better to acknowledge the fact or not. "His family was compensated for the loss of his contribution to their income. That's only fair. For some of these families even one child can make a lot of difference. And..." he glanced over his shoulder at the oblivious pair and lowered his voice still further. "And Yanosh has been assigned an annuity for as long as he remains a Guide. That's the law here. You already know that."

"You really think that makes a difference?" Blair's fist clenched suddenly. "Do you believe for one second that his parents wouldn't have sold him without even caring what he wanted?"

"Look at them, Blair." Jim nodded toward the back seat. "Look at them and tell me they don't belong together. This isn't about them, it's about us."

Blair's lips tightened and he turned away again, though by now it was completely dark. Jim stared at the dark head and the sliver of pale cheek that was all he could see, and ached to take Blair in his arms and comfort him in any way he could. Perhaps Blair felt it through the bond, because after a moment his head came up and caught Jim staring at him with open longing on his face. The blue eyes widened and Blair hastily looked away again.

"How much did you pay for me?" Blair's voice was low and strained.

"That was different. We'd already exhausted all possibilities in this system." Something told Jim to tread very carefully. "We... I... offered a reward for anyone who could locate a suitable candidate. And a bonus if that person became my Guide. It was never intended as a... an inducement to kidnap somebody. I never thought..."

"You should have." Blair's fists were clenched so tight now that his knuckles were white and Jim could smell a trace of blood. "How much?"

"I know. Blair, I'm so sorry..."

"How much, damn you!" Sheer hatred blazed in Blair's eyes now, and seared through the bond.

His vision greyed out momentarily, and Jim gritted his teeth against the pain. "Two hundred thousand credits for bringing you here, and half a million when we bonded."

Tears spilled down Blair's cheeks. "It wasn't enough." He turned away again and this time Jim left him in peace.

As soon as they arrived at Carolyn's estate, they were met by a small welcoming party, led by Carolyn, who whisked the two children away for a late supper and then bed. Jim watched them go with a smile and a wave of his hand for the young Sentinel and Guide, before turning to his own Guide with a heavier heart.

Blair looked exhausted. Jim knew he'd put a lot of energy into sustaining Lissa until Yanosh was able to take his place. He wasn't sure what Blair had done, exactly, much less how, but it had taken a lot out of him. He was almost tempted to ask for quarters for the night, until he took in the tumultuous aura surrounding Blair. It looked like there was going to be trouble, and it would be better dealt with in the privacy of the Royal Apartments.

It wasn't hard to get away. Jim sent a message after his Consort and arranged for the groundcar to be prepped for the trip. Within ten minutes they were on their way. The journey was quiet. Jim prudently allowed Blair all the space and silence he so obviously needed, and concentrated on driving, instead of allowing the autopilot to control the vehicle. To his surprise, they arrived back at the palace well before midnight. It felt like the day had been far longer than the normal twenty-six hours.

Blair obviously felt the same; he seemed barely aware of his surroundings as he walked alongside Jim on their way to the Apartments. When they got inside, he turned automatically towards his own chambers, but Jim, throwing caution to the darkest depths of the seven hells, reached out a hand to stop him.

Dull blue eyes lifted to meet his. Blair waited, seemingly indifferent. "I just wanted..." Jim smiled awkwardly, "just... thanks. For helping with Lissa."

Blair shrugged. "She's a great kid."

Perhaps it was the memory of that moment when Lissa and Yanosh had first set eyes on each other that did it. Jim moved a step closer. "Blair... can't we..."

But, of course, they couldn't. He retained enough sense to know that, no matter how much his heart wanted to tell him otherwise, that last, disastrous conversation with Blair made any closing of the rift between them impossible, at least for the present. "I'm sorry. You're exhausted. Go to bed. I'll send Rafe over shortly."

There was a slight hesitation. Blair's face showed a hint of confusion as his tired brain grappled with the implications of Jim's offer. Jim smiled. "I've known for a while. It's okay. If it helps... well, I don't mind."

"I... I just..." Blair frowned, then raised his eyes to Jim's. "He's... they're friends, and I needed... we haven't..."

"It's all right, Blair." It wasn't of course; it was very far from all right, but Jim wasn't going to say that. He put a hand lightly on Blair's shoulder and drew him into a loose embrace. "You don't have to explain anything."

Blair endured his touch a moment longer before moving away. His voice, when he spoke was stronger, more controlled. "It's better this way. There won't be any talk. Nobody has to know about it."

"Go to bed." Jim touched him again, a brief brush of fingertips against Blair's shoulder and turned away to his own chamber.

Later, lying in bed, he felt the telltale tingling sensation in his belly and groaned softly. It was inevitable that this would happen sooner or later; and after the emotional roller coaster they'd been through today, it was understandable that Blair would need more than simple companionship tonight. That didn't make the pain any less. Jim damped down the bond as low as he could get it and set himself to endure what was to come.

It was worse than before. He knew now, with absolute certainty, that Blair hadn't been sexually involved with anybody since the day he'd forced the bond between them to a wider, deeper channel. There was no way Blair could have done it without Jim knowing. He gritted his teeth and tried to think of other things, but his arousal grew apace with Blair's. At least he could ensure than his reactions didn't echo back along the bond to Blair, and he managed that with a sense of bitter triumph; but his physical reactions were beyond his control. Jim wrapped his hand around a cock that ached almost unbearably and squeezed until he knew he could delay his orgasm until after Blair and his companions were finished. It was a small assertion of control, but at least it allowed him to retain some measure of self-respect.

The holocube sat on his desk for hours before Jim could bring himself to use it. He'd expected it to bring bad news, but the expression on Simon's face as he handed it over told him that it was going to be worse than anticipated. Cautiously, Jim stretched out his senses, seeking Blair's location. He wasn't hard to find, only metres away in his chambers, but busily engaged in sex with Henri and Rafe. It ought to be safe enough, in that case. Jim dropped the cube into the reader.

The image of a merchant vessel appeared, floating above the reader. As the holocamera drew closer and circled the motionless ship, Jim saw the name painted with a flourish on the prow: Sandburg's Folly. The portholes, which should be radiating light, were all dark. Jim swallowed as the commentary noted that there'd been no response at all from the ship.

Slowly the view rotated to show the docking bay and the camera closed in. Scorch marks and bright metallic gashes showed where entry had been forced. The docking bay door was completely missing. Unless someone had been able to close the interior hatches, the whole ship would have been exposed to vacuum.

Jim's hands clenched into fists as the recording went on. All of the hatches lay open and the ship was completely empty. The cargo holds were bare and there were no signs of human habitation except for a few artworks that were firmly fixed to the walls; not even the smallest personal possessions were left on tables or other surfaces. Which meant either the entire crew had been removed, or the bodies were simply allowed to vent into space when the pirates blew the docking door away.

Simon's voice interrupted the other commentary, indicating that the next sequence was taken from the ship's own recorders. The image changed from three-dimensional to two.

Two helmeted, heavily armed men herded half a dozen older adults and children into a storage bin and locked them in. A group of three pirates, one a woman, searched the inner levels of the ship, shooting randomly at the few spacers who remained to fight back. A teenaged boy was flung against a bulkhead and collapsed, bleeding from the head and nose. A broad-chested giant of a man picked off two tiny children, no more than four years old, and laughed as an elderly woman tried futilely to protect them.

Sickened, Jim would have given anything to turn the recording off, to close his eyes, but he couldn't. He owed it to Blair to know what had happened to him, to his family. In all his years in the army, he'd seen brutality on a larger scale, but never enacted with such casual unconcern as this. He watched, sick to his stomach, as a young girl was raped and then shot. Then a boy. Another girl, just a child.

"No!"

Shocked by the scream, not from the display, but from behind him, Jim still managed to hit the eject control as he flew out of his chair.

Blair's eyes were still on the place where the display had been a moment before. His face was ashen with shock. As Jim came closer he backed away hands held up to keep Jim at arm's length. "You did it. You..." his knees buckled and he fell, curled into a foetal ball. "Oh god. Ohgod, ohgodogod..."

"No. Blair, listen. Listen to me." Jim crouched over the shaking body, not daring to touch him. "We found your ship. We found it and that was the ship's recording... Blair!"

Convulsions racked his Guide's body and Jim grabbed his shoulders, carefully restraining him until he could lift Blair and cradle him against his chest. He tapped the comms implant urgently. "Simon! Get a medic here!" He raised his voice to a bellow. "Rafe! Henri!"

The convulsions were already easing into racking sobs when Rafe arrived. Unlike Blair, who wore only a thin wrap, he'd pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt, still unbuttoned. "What happened?"

Jim couldn't answer. Blair's emotions were buffeting his self-control to the point where he could feel himself losing any sense of separation between them. He clutched at his Guide and fought to keep from screaming in rage and grief.

Hands fastened painfully on his shoulders and shook him. "Jim! Tell us what happened!"

Simon's imperious command got through when nothing else would have. Jim shuddered and lifted his head. "He saw it, Simon. He thinks we..." he choked back a sob. "He thinks we did it."

Suddenly it seemed like the room was full of people. Someone tried to touch Blair, and Jim reacted instinctively, pulling the limp body closer and snarling a challenge at the interloper. His own shock and fear at Blair's collapse melded with the anguish reaching him through the bond, depriving him of reason, of thought. He resisted the hand that would remove Blair from his grasp, fought when they tried to separate him from his Guide. The sound of their voices became distorted, unreal, and then faded.

Jim woke, lying on his bed with Blair clasped firmly against his chest. For a moment he allowed himself to believe that everything was all right. That Blair had, finally, chosen him. Yet, beneath that fantasy, he could already feel the gathering horror of reality. Then it hit him, full force - the memory of Blair in his office, wild-eyed and accusing in the moments before his collapse.

A tiny sound of grief escaped him and he heard the faint rustle of clothing as someone stirred. "Jim?"

"Simon." Jim forced his eyes open, tried to keep his face impassive. "Did you bring us in here?"

"I helped. The medics couldn't separate you two, even after they pumped you both full of sedatives, so we carried you in here together." A faint smile crossed the dark face; then Simon looked at Blair, resting against Jim's chest and frowned. "The kid really saw the holovid?"

Jim nodded, unable to speak for a moment. He swallowed heavily. "I want you to find them. I don't care what it takes, you understand?"

"My staff are already on it." Simon rose from his chair. "You should rest. He's going to need you."

"He thinks..." Pain flared, choking him. "He thinks it was us, that we did it."

"Jim, he was in shock. When he has a chance to think about it, he'll know it's not true." Simon put a large hand comfortingly on Jim's shoulder for a moment, then headed for the door. "I'll send the doctor in."

"No. Not yet." Instinct told him that the last thing Blair needed was to have Tarleton poking and prodding him. "Let him rest. Stay for a while."

"Okay." Simon came back to sit by the bed. He nodded towards Blair. "You want me to talk to him when he wakes?"

"I'll do it." Jim swallowed painfully. "You know, it's not like he was far wrong... Simon, if it wasn't for that damned reward, this wouldn't have happened. I should never have..."

"You needed a Guide. Jim, this wasn't your fault." Simon scowled at him. "You didn't know..."

"But I should have, Simon." A sound, half bitter laugh, half sob, was torn out of him. "How long was I a soldier? I've seen people kill each other over a loaf of bread, when rations were short. I should have known. I'm as responsible for the deaths of Blair's family as the people who killed them."

"You were desperate, dying." Simon leaned forward, his eyes intent. "If you hadn't offered that reward, you'd be dead right now. I wouldn't wish what happened on anyone, but I can't help feeling glad that you're still here, my friend."

"But at what cost, Simon?" The ache in Jim's chest spread, deepened until he was almost breathless with the pain of it. "How many people died so I could live?"

At that, Simon's eyes dropped. "There were thirty-eight on the crew list, that included the children. So, unless they took captives, the pirates killed thirty-seven."

"Thirty-eight." Blair's voice was slurred. He was so limp with exhaustion and grief that Jim hadn't sensed him waking. "Kira had just given birth a few days before, but she hadn't decided on a name for him, so he wasn't in the ship's logs..." his voice broke and Jim felt him struggle for control.

He could feel the questing of Blair's mind coming through the bond and didn't try to fight it. It was possibly the only way Blair could be sure that Jim hadn't ordered the murder of his family. Even so, it was both painful and incredibly intimate. Jim gasped and tightened his arms around Blair. "Simon, leave us, please."

The security chief left without making a sound and Jim turned his attention, and all his senses, to his Guide. "Blair, we have to talk."

"No." The single word was a desperate plea. Blair had withdrawn back into his own mind now, leaving Jim feeling utterly bereft. "Please, Jim. I know you didn't order the attack. I was wrong. I know that. I don't want to... I can't..."

"All right. For now." He turned his head so he could kiss Blair's forehead gently. His hands had already begun a soothing caress up and down the sturdy back. "You don't have to bear this alone, Blair. If you can't talk to me..." he swallowed painfully and clamped down on his emotions, "there are others, Rafe or Henri. Or I could get Tarleton to recommend a counsellor."

But Blair was sobbing now, incapable of answering. The sound of his grief, combined with the physical sensation of it, was almost overwhelming. Instead of fighting it, Jim surrendered, allowing the pain to wash over him. He held his Guide close and pressed his face against the dark curls as the tears escaped his control.

By now, Jim knew what to expect. For a few, bittersweet hours Blair remained at his side, needing the comfort that the bond offered, and then, as the first shock passed, he retreated, first emotionally and then physically. Jim was left, still aching, alone. Knowing what would happen hadn't helped at all.

It was several hours later that he had the idea. Blair had so obviously enjoyed meeting Jim's children and they had liked him. He called Carolyn on his comms unit and within an hour was alone in the Royal Apartments. Blair, Rafe and Henri were on their way out to the estate. Jim would have liked to go too, but with an upcoming visit to Olympia only a few days away, there were far too many things to organise, and meetings to attend, for Jim to be able to leave the city. Probably, Blair would be more relaxed without him there anyway.

Still, he found the time to fly down to the estate the day before he was due to leave on his trip. Carolyn was there to meet him, and the children, but not Blair. Preoccupied as he was, Jim tried to show an interest in their chatter, but had the feeling they recognised his distraction. It wasn't long before they drifted away and Jim was left to face Carolyn's obvious disapproval.

"Caro, I'm sorry. I don't have a lot of time." The expression on her face didn't change at all. "How's Blair? Where is he?"

At that, her coolness fled. She shook her head and frowned. "He's... he's very quiet. Apart from the time he spends with the children. He's been going up to the roof and just... staring out across the countryside. He's there now."

That meant Blair must have seen him arrive, and hadn't thought to come down to meet him. Jim's heart sank, even though it was no more than he should have expected. "I have to talk to him."

"He's suffering." He stopped for a moment, obedient to the grip of her hand on his forearm. "And so fragile that it hurts, sometimes, to look at him. It's only when he's with the children that he comes to life. Be careful Jim."

"I will." He headed for the main door. It didn't take long to make his way up to the rooftop garden, or to find Blair, leaning against the parapet, staring into the distance.

It was at that point that Jim realised he had no idea what he could say to Blair. Or rather, that there were a million things he wanted to say, but nothing that Blair was likely to want to hear. He stared at the still figure, traced the supple curves of his back with eyes that saw beyond the thin cloth to the solidity of muscle and bone beneath. Just once, he would like to reach out and touch that perfection and have that touch accepted. He sighed quietly and went to stand beside his Guide.

Blair showed no surprise at his arrival; even with the bond restricted almost to nothing, it was all too easy to sense each other's presence when they were close. He spared Jim a sidelong glance before turning his eyes back to the horizon, but there was no tension, no hint of reluctance in his stance. No sign of welcome, either.

"It's a pretty view." Jim spoke casually. "Have you been down to the lake?"

"The kids took me yesterday." Blair's voice was quiet and even. Beautiful to Jim's ears. He'd missed the warmth of its timbre, the way it seemed to resonate through their quarters, no matter how quietly he spoke. "They were trying to teach me to ride."

Amused in spite of himself, Jim grinned. "Did they succeed?"

"Well, I only fell off twice." Blair half turned to face him. "Rafe tells me that's not bad for a beginner. Why are you here?"

"I have to... I'm leaving for Olympia tomorrow morning. I wanted to see you before I left." That was half the truth. Jim wondered if he had the courage to say the rest. It seemed that he did... "I needed to talk to you."

Blair met his eyes briefly, then looked down again. "What about?"

"About us." Seeing a complete lack of reaction in his bond-mate, Jim sighed. "I can't go on like this. I don't think you can either. I want... I want this bond to work, but if it won't... if you can't accept it, accept me... then it would be better if we stayed apart."

A faint crease between his eyebrows was the only reaction Blair showed. "Can we do that? I mean, can you?"

It wasn't the response he'd hoped for. Jim tried to take heart from the fact that Blair showed even the slightest concern for his well-being. "I think so. The bond by itself is enough to keep me grounded; it's not like I really need to use my senses. As long as I don't try to extend them too far, I can manage."

Blair nodded absently. "If that's what you want." It seemed not to matter to him one way or the other.

"No. It's not what I want." A deep, deep breath did little to ease the constriction in his chest. "What I want..." a stray breeze ruffled the short, wispy hair around Blair's face, teasing a strand loose at his temple. Jim brushed it back into place without thinking. "I want us to be what we're meant to be. Together. I just don't know if that's possible."

"I don't know either." Again, their eyes met, and Jim could see trouble clouding the smoky blue depths. Blair's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Moving cautiously, Jim reached out and drew Blair a little closer. When that was accepted without a murmur, he leaned in, closing the distance to mere inches. "Blair, please... if there's any chance..."

"I can't..." Blair's breath caught in his throat, but he didn't move away. "Jim, I..."

Jim kissed him. It was no more than a soft brush of lips against lips, but it set his heart racing. Blair didn't move away. Jim deepened the kiss a fraction, and Blair didn't move away. He kissed... no, they kissed again, and still Blair didn't move away. When he drew back, Jim was breathless; almost light-headed with relief and desire. Blair's eyes were closed, and his lips were parted. Unable to resist, Jim kissed him again, and swept his tongue across the full lips, dipping just deeply enough to catch a hint of Blair's taste. As Jim drew back, Blair sighed quietly and his eyes opened.

"You don't have to make any decision now." To his embarrassment, Jim's voice was rough and shaking. "This trip... it's ten days. You can think about it. We can talk when I get back. Or later. Whenever you're ready. Okay?"

Blair nodded uncertainly. "I guess."

"It's entirely up to you." Jim stepped back, hands dropping to his sides. "If you want to say no now..."

"No." Blair shivered, though it was warm still. "When you come back. I'll tell you then."

Perhaps it was guilt that prompted Jim to stay longer. Even without Carolyn's reaction, Jim had felt bad about the way he had brushed off his children's welcome. He'd resented his own father for years because of exactly that kind of behaviour and now, for the first time, it occurred to him that his own children might very well see him in a similar light. It was ironic, considering that he'd stayed away precisely because he was afraid of treating them the same way his father had treated him.

It was humbling to realise that he knew almost nothing about any of them. Aidan was almost twelve and ferociously intelligent. If he'd been only a little older, then he might have become the next Sentinel Prime of Cascade, instead of Jim, when William and Stephen had died. Niall had just turned ten, but was almost the same size as his brother, and looked exactly like Jim had at that age, although he seemed a lot happier than Jim had ever been. Like Jim, he was more interested in active pursuits than academic work. Of them all he knew Lissa best, and that was only because of the time he'd spent with her while looking for her Guide.

If not for Blair, the visit could have turned out to be a disaster. Somehow, he managed to mediate between Jim and the children, helping Jim to find ways to communicate with them and keeping the inevitable awkward silences to a minimum. And, with the children, Blair seemed like an entirely different person. Gone were the moody silences and the angry looks; he smiled and joked and played the fool, for all the world as if he were a child himself.

By the time they'd walked down to the lake and back, Jim had spent a little time alone with each of the children, even the painfully shy Yanosh, although Lissa hung about nearby, endearingly protective of her Guide. When they returned to the house, Jim allowed himself to be talked into staying for dinner.

This, he discovered, was a far cry from his childhood memories of coldly formal manners and elaborately presented meals. The children's tutor, Joel, and Carolyn's companion, a tall, striking brunette by the name of Megan, joined the family, Rafe and Henri for the meal. The food was simple country fare and the conversation bordered on the chaotic.

Jim caught Carolyn's eye as Niall and Joel argued over an obscure piece of military history with Rafe and Henri. Blair threw in the occasional comment although it was obvious to everyone that he knew nothing about the incident in question. When the argument finally wound down, Aidan drew Blair into a long and involved story about his encounter with one of the few non-human sentient species that traded with humans. In the middle of the tale Lissa burst into a sudden fit of giggles that, after a whispered exchange, spread to Yanosh; they both eyed Megan and Rafe, sitting at the other end of the table and talking quietly together. Suddenly Megan drew back, frowning and Rafe flushed.

"Lissa, what have I told you about eavesdropping?" Carolyn's voice was stern, though the corner of her mouth twitched. "You know very well that your abilities are to be used responsibly."

"Sorry, Momma." Lissa smiled prettily, and Jim got the distinct impression that, being the youngest, she was accustomed to charming her way out of trouble. "I'll try to remember."

Carolyn seemed unimpressed. "I don't think it's me you should be apologising to."

"Sorry, Megan. Sorry, Rafe." Lissa turned large, innocent blue eyes on the pair.

"And I think it's only fair that Megan should be the one to decide on a suitable punishment." Carolyn smiled maliciously.

The fake air of contrition fled Lissa's face to be replaced by an all too real trepidation as Megan announced that she'd have to think about it for a while. Jim smothered a grin behind his hand and leaned over to talk privately with his Consort. "Are mealtimes always as... uh, lively... as this?"

Her face took on an expression of child-like innocence that was entirely too like her daughter's. "This is pretty quiet, actually."

"I see." Jim realised that he was enjoying this meal a great deal more than any other he'd ever attended. "Are you raising my children to be a bunch of hooligans?"

"You want to take over the job, Jim?" Carolyn smirked.

He laughed and shuddered. "No, really. You're doing a wonderful job."

When the time came to leave, Jim realised how reluctant he was to go. Not only because of his need to be close to Blair, but because he'd truly enjoyed spending time with his children, and even Carolyn. It was strange to remember that they'd once been friends, and that it was because of that friendship he'd considered her a suitable mother for his children. He'd even liked Megan and Joel and would have been happy to spend more time with them, especially in the relaxed atmosphere of the household.

But tomorrow morning, at an early hour even for him, he was flying out to Olympia; he had to get back to the city. He took his leave of the children and Carolyn, and didn't attempt to single Blair out in any way, thought it went against all his instincts to do so. A quick touch on his arm was the only farewell he offered. Beside him, Rafe seemed distinctly unwilling to leave also, and Jim didn't have far to look for the reason. Megan smiled at them both, but her gaze lingered on Rafe's face much longer than Jim's. Beside her, Henri grinned at his friend and rolled his eyes.

Ten days had never seemed so long in Jim's life. In spite of the fact that he had little or no time to himself during his whirlwind tour of the continent, the days dragged interminably and the nights were worse. He couldn't sleep, couldn't even relax enough to lie in his bed and pretend to sleep. He'd known what to expect from this separation, after Blair's escape attempt, but it hadn't helped much. Rafe watched him like a hawk for any signs of zoning or sensory spikes, but that tiny thread of a connection to Blair was enough to keep him stable in spite of his discomfort.

Now, every moment that brought him nearer to Blair exponentially increased his desire to see his Guide again; even before his flight landed, he could already hear the heartbeat that was as familiar to him as his own. It was with extreme difficulty that he stopped himself from brushing past the official welcoming committee and heading for the Royal Apartments as fast as his legs could carry him.

Perhaps sensing his Sentinel Prime's impatience, Karlin made what was possibly the shortest speech of his career, smiled brilliantly and stepped aside to lead Jim into the palace. "I daresay you'd like to refresh yourself before dinner, Sire. Please go ahead. I'm afraid I'm not as agile as I used to be."

The kindliness of the offer brought Jim up short. He slowed his pace to one more suited to his elderly companion. "Thank you, but I'm in no hurry. How is Anise these days?"

"She's well. Expecting her second any day now." The old man brightened at the mention of his granddaughter. "Young Tomas is going on four. Bright as a button."

Jim managed a perfunctory smile. Anise's father had been a few years older than him, and had been a soldier. It had been Tomas who had instilled in Jim the desire to join up. But Tomas had died in a transport vessel en route to Unity just a few years after Jim had followed him into the army. "So will he be a diplomat or a soldier, do you think?"

"Neither, I hope." The old man gave him an impish grin and waved him on. "Go to your Guide, Jim. I'm not so old I've forgotten what it's like to be apart from the one you love."

He could only nod his thanks and lengthen his stride, determined not to make a fool of himself by breaking into a run. Blair must know by now that Jim had arrived; yet there was no sign of him. He'd hoped that this time apart might stir some kind of response in his Guide, but apparently that wasn't the case. He let himself into the apartment quietly, achingly aware of Blair's presence on the other side of the wall and wondering what, if anything, he should do.

Blair's rooms were sacrosanct. The only time he'd gone into them was the day Blair had tried to kill himself. He stood close to the wall, one hand pressed against the wooden panel and opened all his senses to their fullest. There was no sound other than the beating of Blair's heart, and the movement of air in his lungs, but Jim could smell the nervous sweat that must be dampening his skin, tinged with a hint of arousal.

That might mean anything - he knew that Blair was not completely indifferent to him as a man, but whether he would ever consider doing something about it was an entirely other issue. He felt his breathing quicken, matching Blair's, and knew he could not bear to delay their reunion any longer, whatever it might bring. The door was slightly ajar. Jim knocked gently and receiving neither an invitation to enter nor a request to go away, pushed the door open further.

Blair was sitting sideways on a long bench beside the window, his face half glimpsed as he gazed out over the palace gardens five storeys below. He didn't move a muscle, but Jim heard his heart stutter before resuming a faster than normal rhythm. His hair was loose, something Jim had rarely seen, and fell over bare arms and hands clasped tightly together around one raised knee.

Jim swallowed, finding the sight of his Guide almost more than he could bear. He took another step into the room. "Blair?"

The dark head moved at last, but only to bend Blair's gaze downwards. Suddenly, Jim smelt the tang of salt and heard a faint sniff from his Guide. Still not looking at him, Blair sighed. "I can't do this any more."

Jim's heart plummeted and it took an incredible effort to keep his voice calm. Pointless, really, when Blair would know everything he was feeling anyway, but it allowed him to retain some kind of self-respect. "What? What can't you do?"

"This." A hand waved vaguely in the air between them and Blair looked up. His eyes were bright with as yet unshed tears, but as Jim watched one spilled over, drawing a trail down the pale cheek. "This thing with us."

It was unbearable to see his Guide in distress and be able to do nothing. And now, since he had nothing left to lose, there was no need to bear it. Jim walked quickly over to the still-seated man and laid an arm across his shoulders, drawing the sturdy body against his own. His other hand reached up to stroke the long skeins of hair, as he'd always wanted to do. Incredibly, Blair not only accepted the loose embrace, he leaned into it, allowing his head to drop against Jim's chest.

"It's all right. Whatever you want to do, I'll make sure it happens." He bent over to press a gentle kiss against the top of Blair's head. "I'll make sure you never have to worry about... about material things."

Blair's head came up, tilted back to reveal a pair of startled blue eyes, rimmed with wet, spiky lashes. "You mean that?"

"Of course I do." Jim smiled shakily, resisting the urge to wipe away the tears and hold Blair so tightly he'd never be able to let go.

Abruptly the gaze was withdrawn. Blair's eyes closed and he turned his head so his face was hidden against Jim's shirtfront. "That wasn't what I meant." He sighed and fell silent again, but this time Jim had enough sense to wait. It wasn't like Blair to be at a loss for words, but he obviously was now. One square hand came up to tweak at a fold of the thin fabric of Jim's shirt and somehow that tenuous grip seemed to fortify Blair's resolution. "I don't want it to be like this between us... I just don't know how to stop... I don't know how to be any other way..."

Oh... Jim closed his eyes too, his arm tightening around Blair's shoulders. Suddenly the stakes had increased exponentially and he was terrified. If he screwed this up... but he couldn't screw it up. Would not consider for a moment the possibility that he might not succeed in winning over his Guide at last. He took a few slow breaths, willing his heart to beat to a more normal pace before he dared speak.

"Blair... I don't know either. I wish I had the answers for you, but I don't." He swallowed heavily. "Will you let me... just give me three days, okay? Three days to see if we can do this. I won't ask you to do anything you don't want, I promise you. Can you trust me that far?"

Apparently it was the right response. Blair relaxed a little against him and nodded wearily. "Three days."

The first hurdle over, Jim released the breath he was holding and brushed a strand of hair back from Blair's face. All he could see was the curve of his temple and it made the younger man seem that much more vulnerable. He realised he hadn't the slightest idea what to do next, and the clock was already ticking away those three days. It was almost a relief to accept that there was nothing he could say in the next few minutes that would convince Blair to stay with him. Maybe it was better not to say anything; he'd never been good with words anyway.

"Look, I'm..." he licked lips gone suddenly dry. "I could really use a long, hot soak. Will you join me?"

Blair looked up at him for a long moment, then nodded. "All right."

He smiled, unable to hide the pleasure he felt in that tentative acceptance. "Come on." He took Blair's hand gently and pulled him to his feet, then led the way out of the room, still maintaining that small contact.

Not for the first time, Blair's head drooped, brushing against Jim's shoulder. Jim wasn't much more alert than his companion, and he finally decided it was time they both got out of the tub before one of them drowned. They'd hardly spoken in the last twenty minutes, but Jim was pleased enough.

They'd showered together first, after Blair had arranged his long locks in a complicated looking pleat that kept them above his shoulders. Blair had allowed Jim to scrub his back, up between the shoulder blades where nobody could reach properly. He'd even returned the favour without being asked. And in the tub, he'd sunk into the hot water alongside Jim, not quite touching, but much closer than was strictly necessary. It was very shortly after that that the strains of the last ten days caught up with them both and they'd fallen completely silent. Not that they'd talked about anything significant before that - just idle questions and comments about Jim's trip and minor events that had occurred in his absence. Like Henri's pursuit, so far unsuccessful, of a pretty new servant.

"Come on, Blair. It's time we were getting out." He shoved gently at Blair's shoulder and steadied the younger man as he began to slide sideways, "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Blair grunted softly, his head coming up, his eyes blinking rapidly. "I was not asleep, man."

Jim grinned and forbore to argue. "Rafe should have brought us some food by now. Come on."

They towelled off in comfortable silence. Jim tossed Blair his spare robe to use and they wandered through to the office-cum-living room where a truly amazing spread of snack foods awaited them. They sat at the table, idly picking at the food until hunger overcame tiredness and they turned all their attention to eating. When his immediate hunger was satisfied, Jim leaned back in his chair and watched Blair, who was busily licking his fingers clean with a combination of childlike innocence and very adult sensuality.

"You know, I've never known a spacer who had long hair." He smiled as Blair looked up at him inquiringly. "Is that just something Denusians do?"

Blair grinned faintly. "Only the vain ones, that's what Naomi would say." His smile faded suddenly and he looked down at his hands.

"Naomi?" Jim could already feel Blair's distress rising, but even now he knew next to nothing about his Guide and he needed to get him talking.

"My mother." Only a Sentinel would have heard the words, or the tears that Blair was trying to suppress.

When he didn't continue Jim leaned forward to touch his Guide lightly on the shoulder. "I don't want to push... but if you ever feel like talking..."

"Not right now." Blair wiped discreetly at his eyes.

"Okay. So tell me about Denusians. I don't think I've ever met any before you. Is it true your people don't usually travel off planet?"

"We... they don't." Blair avoided looking at him. "Most Denusians don't really think of us - spacer families, I mean - as real Denusians. Partly because we interbreed with other spacers. They think it dilutes the Gift."

It took a moment for Jim to get his meaning. "You mean the empathic ability?"

Blair nodded. "Of course we make sure to go back to Denusia every ten years or so, so some of the women can..." his voice cracked, and he bit his lip for a moment. "You see we can't breed with each other, most of us are too closely related, and there aren't many other Denusian spacer families, so we don't meet up with them very often. My father was...well, I don't really know who he was, but not a Denusian."

Jim's surprise must have shown in his face. What little information he had found had told him how important family was to a Denusian, and it seemed incongruous that Blair should be so unconcerned about not knowing his own father.

"It's pretty common, actually. It isn't easy for the non-Gifted to live among a large group of empaths. Or for an empath to live among the non-Gifted." Blair shrugged, his face clouding over a little. "Mostly they don't even try."

It was time, Jim decided to steer the conversation away from family. "Is that why Denusians don't travel?"

"Not exactly. Denusians won't travel alone. They take their whole family." A tiny smile flicked the corners of Blair's mouth upward. "And I mean their whole family - parents, grandparents, children, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins. They'd have to hire a whole ship."

It seemed everything, for Denusians, came back to family. Jim shrugged noncommittally. "Is it hard for you, being with non-Gifted?"

"It's... I think the bond... it helps." Blair hung his head, visibly struggling. "I think... if it hadn't been for that I would probably have died. I need to feel... connected."

Just the mention of a threat to his Guide's safety set all Jim's nerves on edge. He moved without thinking to stand behind Blair, one hand protectively on his shoulder. Why hadn't he seen this before? "You felt it, didn't you? You felt them die?"

Blair's head moved in a barely discernable nod. He was crying almost silently, but Jim didn't need his senses to tell him that. Blair's pain resonated through the bond. He put his arms around his Guide, drawing him up out of the chair and against his chest. Blair came without a murmur or hint of hesitation and after a moment his arms went around Jim's waist and held on tightly.

They stood like that for a long time, Jim silently sending comfort through the bond, Blair simply dazed with sorrow. But eventually, exhaustion won out over emotion and Blair sagged against him, moaning softly.

Jim rubbed his cheek against the silken hair. "Stay with me tonight?" Then, as Blair's heart began to falter, "just to sleep. Nothing else."

Blair nodded against his shoulder, too weary even to speak. Jim would have carried him to the bed, but thought better of it. He drew the shorter man with him, slipped off the robe and eased him between the covers. Blair curled around himself, burying his face in the pillows. With a quiet sigh, Jim turned off the lights, then dropped his robe on the floor and climbed into the other side of the big bed.

Cautiously, he didn't move too close to Blair. Close enough to feel his body heat warming the covers. Close enough to reach out a hand and touch Blair's arm. It would have to be enough, for now.

The one thing Jim hadn't expected was to be too wired to sleep. Every sense was focused so intently on Blair that he couldn't relax. It wasn't a hardship, though. The lack of light was no barrier to his enhanced eyesight, so after a while, when sleep seemed further away than ever, Jim rolled onto his side and watched over his Guide's sleep.

It allowed him to catch the first hint of disturbance in Blair's breathing. A faint sound, almost a whimper, and the sharp tang of sweat sheening his skin. Jim stroked his fingers carefully up Blair's arm and whispered his name. A frown wrinkled the sleeper's forehead. Jim brushed back some loose strands of hair from Blair's face and cupped his hand over his cheek.

The dark lashes fluttered and lifted a little. "Wha..?"

Jim said nothing, waiting for full consciousness to seep in. After a moment Blair's eyes opened fully. "Did I wake you up? Oh man, I'm sorry."

"You didn't wake me." Jim continued his thumb's caress.

"It was the snoring, wasn't it?" Blair sighed. "Everyone tells me I snore."

He hadn't really been snoring at all; it was no more than a gentle snuffling. Jim grinned. "You're talking to a guy who spent three years in an army barracks. Your snoring was charming, believe me." He flicked the corner of Blair's mouth with a fingertip. "And the drooling was cute."

"Oh, man..."

"But I was already awake." Jim inched a little closer. "I was watching your face in the moonlight."

"Oh." Blair stared at him, his eyes widening. "I... you were?"

"I was." Suddenly he couldn't breathe. Blair's eyes seemed enormous, and he was leaning closer; so close Jim could feel the warmth of Blair's breath on his face. "I... uh..."

Blair's lips touched his so gently that Jim could almost believe he'd imagined it. He held himself completely still, promising himself that this was for Blair to choose, not him. Blair kissed him again, and pressed his fingertips against Jim's cheek, then drew back to study his face.

"It's all right." Jim licked his lips nervously. "I'm not going to..."

He was silenced with another kiss, warm and achingly sweet. They teased at each other's lips, not lingering or delving too deep. Blair's fingers stroked lightly across Jim's cheek and into his short hair, traced the curve of his ear and returned to his cheek again. His tongue pressed wetly against Jim's lips, slowly infiltrating Jim's mouth, and still Jim did little more than passively accept his attentions.

Eventually, he realised that the one thing he was waiting for was not going to happen; at least, not tonight. He could smell Blair's arousal, mingled with the scent of his own, and he could sense Blair's desire through the bond, but it was desire for physical pleasure, for comfort; not desire for him.

He detached himself from Blair's embrace and drew back, laying a finger over Blair's lips. "Not yet. It's not time."

Blair nodded, seeming almost relieved, and they lay still, staring at each other until Jim rolled onto his back and drew Blair against his side. With a little sigh, Blair settled with his head on Jim's shoulder, his arm flung carelessly across Jim's chest and within moments was asleep again.

Coffee. The delicious aroma woke Jim and, as he surfaced, the sound of Rafe moving quietly in the other room. There were food scents mingled with the coffee and Jim's stomach rumbled appreciatively. He hadn't had much of an appetite while he'd been away. Blair was curled on his side, his back towards Jim, but close enough to share his body's heat. Jim slipped out of the bed and picked up his robe from where he'd let it drop.

Rafe was just finishing as Jim came into the room. He smiled easily at Jim. "Everything okay?"

"Yes. And, no, not what you're thinking." Jim grinned back feeling enormously pleased with himself all the same. "Can you ask Henri to bring some clothes over for Blair? And cancel all my appointments for the next three days."

"All right." Rafe's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't ask. "There are a few things you ought to look at, though."

"After breakfast." Jim started loading a tray with goodies. "Just list them for me, will you? And call Carolyn. Ask her if I can see her today."

"I'll do it right away."

Jim nodded absently, his mind already anticipating watching Blair awaken to the treat of breakfast in bed. He laughed softly as he turned back to the bedroom. He had it bad. Really bad.

Blair was already awake and pushing himself up into a sitting position when Jim entered the room. His eyes lit up at the sight of the tray. "Coffee." He grinned widely.

"There's more out there." Jim nodded towards the half open door as he placed the tray beside Blair. He climbed onto the bed and stretched his legs out, rolling onto his side to face Blair. "Eat up."

Blair almost inhaled that first cup of coffee. Jim sipped his own and watched in amusement. Then between them they demolished the contents of the tray - eggs, fruit and sweet pastries. Finally, Blair poured himself yet another cup from the large thermal decanter and sighed. "Thanks."

"Thank Rafe, not me." Jim smiled. The temptation to suggest spending the rest of the morning in bed was strong, but if last night had been any indication, it would almost certainly be a mistake. "Blair, I need to go see Carolyn. Today, if possible. Besides, I want to see how Lissa and Yanosh are getting on. Would you come with me?"

"Sure." Blair looked pleased. "I'd like to see them again."

"Good." Jim leaned across the tray and kissed him briefly. "I've got a few other things I need to take care of first. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

Actually, it was closer to three hours before they finally left. It had taken that long for all the purchases he'd made using the comms unit to be delivered to his hover car. Blair grinned at the pile of sealed packages in the rear of the car.

"Spoiling the kids, huh?" He hopped into the seat with all the eagerness of a child himself. "What's Carolyn going to say?"

"Most of them are educational." The defensive note he heard in his voice made Jim flush guiltily. "And they're not all for the kids."

"Sure." Blair rolled his eyes.

It happened to be true, but since he didn't want to give away all his intentions, Jim wisely refrained from arguing.

The journey seemed to go much faster than it ever had before. Blair hummed softly under his breath and Jim found he was actually looking forward to this visit. He'd always approached his children with a mixture of guilt and trepidation before. He never would have believed that it was possible to have anything approaching a normal father-child relationship until Blair had come along.

Their arrival simply reinforced Jim's optimism. Aidan and Niall hurried eagerly forward to meet Jim and Blair, and if their greeting to Blair was more enthusiastic than the one they gave their father, well, Jim could deal with that. Blair made things easier for all of them. Lissa and Yanosh hung back a little, holding hands tightly and watching rather than joining in. Jim detached himself from the small group and went over to them, dropping into a squat so his eyes were level with theirs.

"Your mama tells me you're doing very well, Liss." He smiled reassuringly. "And Yanosh is fitting into the family perfectly. Are you happy here, son?"

The boy nodded nervously and whispered a soft 'yes'.

"You won't send Yanni back will you, Father?" Lissa broke in with less than her usual confidence. "We're really trying."

Which probably meant she'd dragged her young Guide into some kind of mischief. But Yanni was looking distinctly anxious and Jim found he couldn't resist that look any more than he could if it was Blair who'd been upset.

"I can't Liss." Jim put his arms around the pair and drew them close against him. "Haven't you got that far in your studies? There are laws to protect Sentinels and Guides from being separated. Not even I could force Yanni to leave."

"Oh." Lissa sagged against him, her eyes huge with relief. Then she grinned widely at her Guide. "I toldya it was okay."

Jim firmly repressed a grin. "That doesn't mean I can't shut you both in your room until you're adult-legal though. What have you been doing?"

"Nothing. Really." Lissa's face was perfect in its innocence. "Was it Yanni?"

The boy agreed rather doubtfully. There was no doubt who was the leader of the pair, and Jim thought Yanni would have his work cut out for him as they grew older. "Well, don't do it again. And pay a little more attention to your studies. If you had, then you wouldn't have had to worry about Yanni being sent away."

He saw that sink into his headstrong daughter's mind with some satisfaction. Study was definitely among her least favourite pastimes and she was going to need to do a lot of studying, now that she was his heir. He straightened, still holding them, so their feet dangled off the ground. "Your punishment can be to carry some parcels into the house for me."

Several hours later, Jim relaxed in one of the large, comfortable chairs in Carolyn's private drawing room. An afternoon spent with his children and Blair, walking through the gardens, talking, and admiring their skills at archery and horse riding had been followed by a delicious evening meal and an invitation to stay overnight. Since that suited his plans, Jim had had no hesitation in accepting and Blair had obviously been delighted.

Now, his Guide was sprawled on the couch with Lissa curled up beside him and Yanni leaning against his other side while he spun tales of his travels in a quiet voice designed to lull the youngsters into sleep. On the floor in front of this little group, Niall and Aidan were lying on either side of the holoconsole, playing the latest game that Jim had brought with him from the city. From the way Niall was kicking Aidan's butt, it was apparent that Aidan was far more interested in Blair's stories than the game. Not surprising, given that he'd shyly confided to Jim that afternoon that he wanted to study xenobiology at the university.

"He certainly has a way with children." Carolyn's voice was pitched low enough not to disturb the rambling story.

"Yes. He grew up in an extended family, several generations living together." Jim glanced at his Consort. She seemed completely relaxed, and there would probably never be a better time to broach the subject that was on his mind. "He's already very attached to them. He thinks it's shocking that I've had so little to do with them."

Carolyn favoured him with a speculative glance but said nothing.

"I suppose he's right." Jim offered the observation reluctantly. "I thought I was doing them a favour by staying away. You know how I felt about..."

"Oh, you made it perfectly clear, Jim." Her voice was quiet, but Jim heard a note of pain in it. "It was your duty to produce a few heirs, since Marla couldn't bear Stephen any children. I have no complaints about our contract."

"Maybe you should." Jim smiled faintly at her surprised expression. "I've been thinking about it a lot recently. Now that Lissa's abilities have manifested, and with the boys getting older, it could be a good time to consider moving into the city. You could have your own apartments at the Palace, or, if you prefer, you could have a separate residence in the palace complex."

"If you're only doing this for Blair's sake..."

He smiled at the heated tone of her voice. "I promise you, I'm not. I won't deny he's made me realise how much I've been missing out on, but my reasons are... well, a mixture of self interest, and practicality. Liss and Yanni really need to attend the Sentinel-Guide Academy, at least part time; and Aidan's nearly ready to start university. Joel's struggling to keep up with him, and you know it. And it certainly won't hurt Niall to get a little polish. All he thinks about is hunting and riding and running flight sims."

It was an argument she couldn't win, and Carolyn had the sense to know it. She still looked unconvinced however. "I'll think about it. There's no need to rush into a decision."

"That's all I ask." He smiled at her and she returned it before catching Megan's eye and nodding towards their youngest child and her Guide. "Those two need to be in bed. Excuse me, Jim."

He watched as Blair and Megan gathered up the two small children and carried them out, sleepily protesting, with Carolyn following close behind. Joel, who had been talking with Megan up till now, came over at Jim's nod and they settled into an easy discussion of one of Jim's more recent campaigns. In fact, the last one before he'd become Sentinel Prime. Before very long, Niall was seated cross-legged at their feet listening intently and Aidan was looking considerably put out at losing both an opponent for the game and the chance to listen to Blair's tall tales.

It wasn't very long before the three remaining adults returned, but it signalled the end of the evening's activities. Jim was exhausted and the others, apart from Blair, were accustomed to keeping early hours. Even Blair was looking unusually sleepy. They followed Carolyn to the room she'd had prepared for them, and it wasn't until she was gracefully withdrawing that Jim realised she expected them to share it, and the enormous bed.

A hand on his arm silenced Jim's instinctive protest. "It's all right. We shared a bed last night. I can do it again."

He looked anxiously at his Guide, in spite of the fact that he could feel not the slightest sensation of disturbance or reluctance. "Are you sure? I could probably sleep on the rug in perfect comfort."

The rug in question was undoubtedly luxurious, and Blair grinned. "I'm sure you could; but it won't be necessary." He yawned hugely and began to unfasten his light tunic. "I'll take the left."

Grey light filtering through the curtains woke Jim while it was still early. It was a habit he'd acquired during his military service and hadn't shaken off in the year since he'd been forced to resign. Beside him Blair slept peacefully, his breathing and heartbeat slow and steady.

Long before any one else would have known, he could tell that Blair was close to waking. Avidly, he followed every step - the slight increase in body heat, the change in his breathing and heartbeat, the almost invisible twitches of tiny facial muscles - until the fluttering lashes lifted and sleepy blue eyes opened to meet his own. He smiled, not knowing until he felt Blair's reaction how tender and delighted that smile was. Then, embarrassed, he looked away.

A light touch on his arm brought Jim's gaze back to Blair's face. His bond-mate's expression was sad, yearning, and full of silent need. Jim eased down beside the younger man and cautiously drew him into a loose embrace. There was no resistance, indeed Blair came to him easily and they lay for a long time, exchanging no words, but only the occasional random thought or emotion. It was a strange form of communication for two men who barely knew how to speak to each other, but Jim found it comforting.

It was inevitable, being men, that their thoughts would turn to the morning erections that Jim, at least, had been valiantly trying to ignore. Nothing obvious was said, or thought, but as their bodies became accustomed to the unusual degree of closeness they shared, a kind of affectionate sensuality surfaced. Gentle, almost random touches on the arms and shoulders developed into petting, and it wasn't long before one or both of them - it was becoming difficult to separate their consciousnesses - turned towards the other, lips already parting for a tentative kiss.

Blair's hand touched his cheek, lightly caressing, and Jim pushed blindly against his palm, then brushed his lips lightly along the scar on the inside of his arm. Blair's breath caught in his throat as pain and remorse flared briefly through the bond. Jim drew him closer. "Thank all the gods we found you in time."

Blair swallowed and didn't answer, but he pressed against Jim's chest, his face lifted for another kiss. Tiny sounds of pleasure escaped them both; the taste, and the feel of Blair against his lips, his skin were almost enough to make Jim zone. Perhaps he did zone, for he had no idea how long they lay there before he heard a child's giggle and a triumphant whisper. "See? Toldya they'd be awake!"

He just had time to pull away before a small body caromed into his. Beside him, all the air left Blair's lungs with an audible whoosh as Yanni landed fair and square on his chest. If it had been the older children, Jim would have undoubtedly given them a moderated, but comprehensive dressing down, but Lissa, and especially shy, timid Yanni, had to be treated with more care. One thing he had promised himself was that he would never resort to the intimidatory tactics of his own father.

Before he could find some acceptable form of reprimand, Blair began to laugh, albeit rather breathlessly, and to tickle the squirming body of his attacker. Jim decided he couldn't do better than to follow his Guide's lead. It didn't take long to reduce the pair to helplessness and Jim met Blair's eyes with a grin. "Well, now that we have them prisoner, what shall we do with them?"

"Tickle them some more?" Faint protests came from the still sobbing pair. "No? Then maybe we should claim a forfeit." It was a reference to one of the previous night's stories - something about an alien monster and a pretty girl locked in a tower Jim thought. "Clean out the stables, maybe? Or learn the periodic table by heart?"

"In the army the punishment was to clean all the latrines with a toothbrush." Jim ignored the sounds of disgust. He had a firm hold of Lissa and Blair had his arms wrapped around Yanni, so there was no chance of escape. "Or the drill sergeant would make us do push ups. Lots of 'em. Two hundred. Three hundred."

Lissa's eyes became huge. "But I can only do five! Can you really do that many, Papa?"

"Not now." Jim shook his head ruefully. By most standards he was extremely fit, but he knew that his standards had slipped since leaving the army. He released his daughter and the two children sat cross-legged in the centre of the big bed. "I'm out of practice."

"Yanni can do eight. Can't you Yanni?" She nudged him with her elbow and the boy nodded solemnly.

"Let's see your arm." Jim inspected the small bicep with proper solemnity and pronounced himself impressed. "What about you, Blair?"

"Oh, hey... no, I'm not the athletic type. Maybe fifty, tops." He looked almost alarmed.

"That's okay. I'll soon whip you into shape." Maliciously, he allowed no hint of humour to give the lie to his threat. Lissa giggled, then clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Help!" Blair dropped back against the pillows looking suitably appalled. "Yanni, you won't let him do that, will you? We Guides have to stick together."

"We'll both help you." Yanni spoke with unwonted firmness. "Won't we Lissa?"

It was hard to tell which of them was more surprised when Lissa meekly agreed. Twin accusatory gazes fixed on Jim's face and he surrendered with alacrity. Part of his mind was occupied with this new snippet of information. Perhaps Yanni would be a better Guide for his daughter than Jim had expected. He was still digesting that possibility when a new attack was launched.

"Papa, why does Blair have all that hair? Is it because he's a Guide? Will Yanni get all hairy too?"

For a confused moment, Jim thought she was referring to the length of Blair's braid, but a stray tendril of amused embarrassment from Blair's direction enlightened him on that point. He favoured his Guide with a long look. "I don't know. Blair, what do you think?"

Blair glanced down at his chest, his fingers unconsciously straying to the densest patch, in the centre. The sight sent a sudden stab of heat to Jim's groin, and he hitched the bedcovers, completely unnecessarily, a little higher. Smoky blue eyes met his for a moment and then slid aside. "I don't think it's anything to do with me being a Guide."

"Good." Lissa's voice was more emphatic than was polite.

"I think it looks nice." Yanni flashed Blair a quick, nervous smile. Guides sticking together, it seemed. He looked at Lissa seriously. "I won't mind if I get hairy."

"Okay." Lissa cocked her head, considering. "Then I won't either."

"There you are." Megan's voice, coming from the doorway startled all of them. "I thought I told you both not to wake anyone."

She received a chorus of 'but we didn't' from Lissa and Yanni with obvious scepticism, only relenting when Jim and Blair backed the children up. Then she favoured them with a speculative look that had Blair blushing faintly. "Well, breakfast will be ready in just over half an hour. You two had better get dressed." She smiled guilelessly at the two adults. "And you two can always eat later if you want to... being guests and all."

There was a stunned silence as she swept out of the room behind the children.

"Well?" Blair's voice, and mind, was full of laughter. Jim stared down at him, reclining on his side, propped up on one elbow.

He had to swallow before he could reply "Well what? I like your chest hair too, by the way."

A snigger echoed in his head, though not his ears. "Do you want to be late for breakfast?"

Oh. There wasn't anything he'd like better, but... Jim wrenched his eyes away from contemplation of the dark curls adorning Blair's chest, and the dusky nipples those curls surrounded. "I... uh..."

His fingers brushed lightly over the soft, slightly coarse texture and then he withdrew his hand reluctantly from that luxurious sensation. He wanted all of Blair, not just his body, and something told Jim that if he settled for that now, it was all he would ever get.

"Don't tell me..." Blair's voice was resigned, "it's not the right time."

Jim kissed him, a cautious brush with closed lips. "No, it's not."

They left mid-morning, despite the complaints of the children and Carolyn's invitation to stay longer. Blair would quite happily have stayed but Jim had other plans, and refused to be persuaded; Blair had promised him three days and already more half that time was gone. So they left, promising to return soon.

Blair was quiet for a long time before stirring himself to look at the passing scenery. Jim didn't need to look at him to feel his frown. "This isn't the way back to the city."

"No. There's a place I want to show you." Jim glanced at his Guide. "It involves some walking over rough terrain. Is that a problem?"

Blair shrugged, but he seemed relaxed enough.

"I thought we could stay overnight. It's... well, it's a special place to me." Jim wondered suddenly if it was such a good idea. He had no idea if a man like Blair, born and bred in space, would have any appreciation for the natural beauty he was about to be shown. "I've brought everything we'll need, but it's very basic."

"No comms unit?" Blair flashed him a quick grin.

"No house, no beds, no plumbing. We'll sleep on the ground and gather our food from the surrounding area, cook it over an open fire." Jim couldn't help but chuckle at the expression on Blair's face. "I'm guessing that whenever you went planet-side you stayed in the cities?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Blair tried to sound calm but his heartbeat was just a little faster than normal. "So, what's so special about this place?"

"It's possibly the most beautiful spot on the planet." Jim smiled reminiscently. "And I lost my virginity there."

Blair choked. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Karlin's son, Tomas, took me there. I'd had a crush on him since I was about thirteen. He'd joined the army, and when I told him I was going to join up too he said before I did I should learn how to survive in the wilderness, and lose my virginity with men."

"And he took you to this place to do both." Blair was grinning.

"That's right. I go back there as often as I can. It has some good memories." He didn't add that he'd never taken anyone with him before. "We're nearly to the place where we'll have to leave the car."

"Oh." Blair looked out the windscreen at the rising terrain ahead and the bank of forest. His heart rate hitched up a little higher. "It looks pretty wild."

"It's perfectly safe. There aren't any predators. As long as you stay close, you'll be okay. The comms implant will send out a signal if anything happens to me, and if we get stuck, I can always call for help." Jim laid a hand reassuringly on Blair's thigh for a moment. "If you really don't like the idea, we can go back to the palace."

"No. I'm fine." He still sounded a little uncertain, but Jim could feel his determination through the bond. "It's an adventure. Right?"

"Right." He landed the hover car on a small patch of level ground only a few metres away from the beginning of the trail. "This is it. We've each got a pack to carry, and you'll need to change your clothes and boots. Those ones aren't suitable for hiking."

"Great..." But Blair helped him unload the packs and changed into the clothes that Jim had ready for him without protest. "How heavy are those things?"

"Not too bad." Jim eased the smaller pack onto Blair's broad shoulders and settled it comfortably. "Is that okay? Comfortable?"

Blair moved his shoulders experimentally. "Yeah. It's fine. How much of a walk is it?"

"About an hour, if we take it easy. It's not that far, but it's uphill, as you can see." Jim slipped on his own, larger, pack and checked the straps. "Just stay close, don't wander off."

"If I did, you'd be able to find me, right?" Blair sounded nervous now and the bond almost vibrated with tension.

"Of course I would. But if we want to have fresh fish for dinner, then we'd better not waste any time."

He'd started up the path before he heard Blair's footsteps coming hurriedly after him. "Fish? You mean we have to kill things? And eat them?"

"Well, you don't have to, Chief, but roots and berries by themselves don't make the greatest meals." This could be a lot of fun.

"Stop laughing at me."

There was no sign of offence in Blair's voice or thoughts and Jim grinned.

They reached their goal in just under fifty minutes of fairly brisk walking up an occasionally steep incline. Jim had been monitoring Blair most of the way, ready to slow down if necessary. It hadn't been, though he'd been pleased to catch the odd stray thought from Blair that indicated his Guide was watching his butt appreciatively.

For the first time, he was experiencing this place through Sentinel senses, and accordingly, he heard the stream long before they reached the top of the trail. In fact the woods were, he'd discovered, absolutely teeming with animals, birds and insects. This must have been how the ancient Sentinels had lived, in tune with their surroundings, using their abilities to ease the burden of survival for their tribes. It was a humbling reminder of what he really was.

When the trees began to thin, Jim slowed a little and edged aside so Blair could come up beside him. He wanted to see the spacer's reaction to his private spot. "Nearly there, now."

"Good." Blair was panting a little, but not in any difficulty. "How far have we come?"

"Not very far, in a straight line. The trail's steeper than you might realise, so it's slower going." Jim rested a hand on Blair's shoulder for a moment. "You'll find it much quicker going back."

Together, they walked forward, and stopped a few metres further on when a turn of the path left them literally on the edge of a clearing a couple of hundred metres across.

"Wow..." Blair's voice was awed. He looked up at Jim for a second and then his eyes scanned the view.

It was an anomaly, this place; a tiny plateau carved out of the hillside. There was enough space for the sun to stream down into the clearing, and for a small grassy area, but much of the clearing was taken up by a large pond, sparkling in the sunlight. Wildflowers were liberally sprinkled through the grass, scenting the air with a delicate fragrance. A small stream at its eastern end fed into the pond, and the water escaped at the western end over a miniature cascade of rocks. It was as close to perfect as anything Jim had ever seen. Except, perhaps, for the man standing beside him.

Blair caught that thought. He turned to stare at Jim for a long moment, before his eyes dropped awkwardly. Jim brushed his finger down Blair's cheek, disturbing a trickle of perspiration. "I don't suppose you ever learnt how to swim?"

"No." Blair moved forward into the clearing and Jim followed. In silence he indicated a spot that he knew from experience was the most level, least lumpy bit of ground, and they lowered their packs to the ground.

"Do you want to learn?" Drawn by the scent of the fresh water, Jim itched to undress and plunge into its coolness.

Something of that must have got through as well. Blair looked longingly at the pond, but his reluctance was plain. "How deep is it?"

"Not very. At its deepest, near the centre, it would be just over my head." Jim peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside, then sat to remove his boots. "If you keep to the edges you'll be in no danger at all."

Blair took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll try it. Is it cold?"

But, by then Jim had stripped off his remaining clothes and was running for the water. He dove into the pool with a yell and didn't surface until he'd nearly got halfway to the other side. When he turned to face back the other way, Blair was wading cautiously towards him.

"It's cold." In a moment, Jim thought, Blair would change his mind and retreat to the shore.

It only took a few long strokes to get back to his Guide, and then he stood, dripping water and grinning like a fool. "Come on."

He took Blair's hand and drew him just a little further out, until the water lapped around Blair's knees, then he pulled his bond-mate into a firm grip, chest to chest, covered the mobile mouth with his own and toppled them both into the water. He felt a momentary panic from Blair, then they were floating on the surface, Blair cradled securely against his chest. "You're completely safe. Just relax and let me hold you."

"It's freezing!" But Blair took his advice, and Jim kicked lazily, propelling them both along the shoreline. After a moment, he rested his chin on Jim's chest, staring thoughtfully at Jim's face. He sighed. "The water feels good against my skin. It must be incredible for you."

"Mm-hmm." He could have added that Blair against his skin felt even better, but he didn't, and luckily Blair was too preoccupied with this new sensation to pick up that random thought. To be fair, he did his best to stay out of Jim's mind as much as possible, but there was no telling when he might slip up. "Do you want a lesson? Or we can do it tomorrow if you like. Or later this evening. The water always seems warmer if you swim after dark."

Blair shuddered. "I think I'll stick to daylight, thanks. What do I have to do?"

Jim eased him over onto his back. "Just start by floating. Move your arms and legs a little to help you float and to move yourself around." As he talked he allowed himself to sink away a little until he was only supporting Blair's shoulders. "Ready?"

"Yep." Blair began to kick gently and his eyes widened when Jim moved entirely away from him. He grinned delightedly. "Hey!"

By the time the cold water was starting to chill them both, Blair was able to do a clumsy breaststroke. Jim ordered him back to shore and set off at a quick pace across the pond and back to warm up a little. He stumbled out of the water and stood shivering in the sun as Blair trotted over with the towels he'd pulled out of the smaller pack. They dried off quickly and dressed, then Jim nudged the smaller man. "Feel up to some fishing now?"

"You weren't kidding, were you?" Blair blinked at him, genuinely surprised.

Jim shook his head. "When you're on a strange planet and you've lost contact with your platoon, being able to find food will save your life. Tomas taught me some valuable lessons and I've never forgotten them. But..." he indicated the packs, "if it really bothers you, there's ration bars in the packs."

"No... it doesn't really bother me. It's just kinda strange, that's all." Then Blair's eyes lit up. "I guess it's the way our ancestors lived, right? Primitive and all that."

"I suppose so." Jim pulled a collapsible rod out of the side pocket of his pack. "You want to try it?"

After a meal of fish baked wrapped in vine leaves on hot stones, accompanied by roasted tubers, wild greens and a handful of tart, juicy berries, both men were more than ready to bed down beside the embers of their cooking fire and make an early night of it. Jim had packed two sleeping bags, and though it was possible to fasten them both into one double-sized bag, he didn't suggest it and Blair didn't ask. Still, they settled close together in perfectly amiable companionship.

It was half an hour later that Blair broke the silence. Jim had been very aware that his Guide was not asleep, but had made no effort to talk, figuring that whatever thoughts were keeping Blair awake were either private, or that Blair would talk to him when he was ready.

Eventually, Blair rolled onto his side to face Jim. "You know how you keep saying it's not time yet?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you waiting for?" Suddenly Blair sounded awfully young. "How will you know?"

"I'll just know." He hadn't even thought about it much, preferring to rely on his instincts, but Blair deserved a better answer than that. He looked inside himself, always an uncomfortable process, and found the answer with surprising ease. "When you want me... when you really want me, and not just a warm body. When every breath you take makes you want me more. When every bone, every muscle aches with wanting me, when your blood cries out for me and your heart beats with mine... that's when I'll know it's the right time."

Had he just made a terrible mistake? Saying it out loud had somehow made everything so much more real. Jim could hear the rapid beating of Blair's heart, and his ragged breathing. He could smell the salt tears, though none escaped from beneath Blair's closed eyelids. Even worse, he could feel the shock that ricocheted through his Guide's mind. Shaken almost beyond bearing by what he had revealed about himself, Jim allowed every defence he'd built over the last few months to shatter and fall. No more than that. He would not force Blair to share his most intimate emotions, but they were there for him to read, if he wished.

It took a while, but eventually Jim felt that delicate tickling sensation that he associated with Blair's presence in his mind. Biting hard on his lip, he endured that gentle exploration, until Blair reached somehow and Jim saw... "No! Blair, please..."

His hoarse whisper was ignored, and yet he made no attempt to protect himself. Couldn't. Wouldn't deny Blair any part of himself, not even the most shameful. In a daze, he felt again the wonder, the joy of his bonding turn to horror and self-hatred as he violated not only his Guide, but everything he'd ever believed about himself. Then Blair was gone, and he had never been more alone in his life.

"I had no idea..." Blair's hand slid inside Jim's sleeping bag and touched his shoulder lightly. "Jim... I'm so sorry..."

"You're sorry? I raped you!" A sob tore its way out of his throat and Jim forced the next one down. "I should..."

"Stop it, Jim." Blair's voice was quiet, and commanding. "Yes, you raped me, and it was wrong, but you never meant me any harm."

"And that makes it all right?"

"It changes things. The way I..." his breath hitched and suddenly raw emotion flared between them, too intense for Jim to recognise. "I told myself I could never love a man who took pleasure in such a thing. Do you have any idea how much I hated myself for caring about you? How much I hated you for making me care? I couldn't bear this bond. I felt like it was turning me into some kind of monster, if I could even think about loving the man who'd raped me."

"Blair, don't." Somehow he found the strength to reach out, and yet it was he who ended up in Blair's arms, his head resting against Blair's chest, feeling the pounding of Blair's heart beneath his cheek. His tears wetting Blair's skin.

After the emotional storm of the previous night it was a relief, the next morning, to sit quietly eating cold fish and hard ration bar, washed down with copious amounts of self-heating coffee. Jim even managed a stab of amusement as Blair, grimacing, pulled the heat activation tab on yet another pack of the revolting stuff. It might have all the caffeine of real coffee, but it had none of the flavour.

"So, what do we do today?" Blair avoided looking at him. They were both carefully shielding their emotions and thoughts.

"It's up to you." Jim shrugged. "If we walk half an hour in that direction, there's a cliff, with a view out over the valley. Or we can go uphill a bit further. There's some wild bees that have built a hive. We could get honeycomb off them." He grinned and shrugged. "Or we could get stung."

Blair's eyes widened. "Or we could just stay here and relax."

"Yeah we could."

"And you could give me another swimming lesson." Blair lifted his head at last and met Jim's eyes. "Jim..."

"It's all right. You don't have to say anything." He forced the words out between stiff lips. "Last night..."

"Look, last night was good. We needed to say those things. It's just..." Blair sighed, "what you said... about knowing - you know - I just... I never imagined ever feeling that way about anybody. I could love you. I know I could. But loving you like that..."

"You don't have to..."

"Yes I do." Blair interrupted the speech he'd been rehearsing half the night with ruthless efficiency. "You won't accept anything less; and you shouldn't have to."

Jim's shoulders slumped. "No. I would if I could. Hell, I should be happy to have whatever you can give me."

Even Sentinel hearing barely caught the rough whisper: "It's not over yet."

"Isn't it?" Jim smiled bitterly. "What else is there to say?"

"I don't know." Their eyes met and Jim held his breath at the longing he saw in Blair. "But I promised you three days, and they're not over yet."

It was hopeless. "What's going to happen in six hours?"

"I don't know. Let's find out." And Blair stood, reaching down a hand to pull Jim to his feet.

They walked to the cliff and Blair dutifully admired the view, but Jim was already anticipating their return to the city and couldn't even pretend to share his pleasure. When they returned to their small camp, Blair once again demanded another swimming lesson. It helped a little; concentrating on the mechanics of teaching Blair the basic swimming strokes, Jim was able to forget, for a while, all the emotional baggage they carried with them.

Afterwards, Blair flung himself face down on the grass to bask in the warm sun. After a brief hesitation, Jim did likewise, careful not to lie too close. A weary silence fell between them and Blair's breathing slowed as he drowsed. Jim stared up at the sky and tried to think how he was going to deal with what was sure to come.

There were no answers to be found in that blue expanse, however, and Jim found his head turning, his eyes drawn to Blair. His strong, shapely body was relaxed and the pale spacer skin was tinged with pink from the sun. It suddenly occurred to Jim that his Guide would probably have no idea about such planet-bound realities as sunburn.

"Blair." He reached out and shook Blair's shoulder gently. "You have to move. The ultra-violet light will burn your skin."

"Huh?" Blair lifted his head and blinked, then, when Jim insisted again that he move, rolled onto his back.

That hadn't exactly been what Jim had intended, or wanted, but Blair would be safe enough for a while. Jim let his gaze roam over his Guide's body, and the dark down of hair on his chest that narrowed to a dense line bisecting his flat belly and then flared out again to surround his cock. The ache he felt was so much more than simple arousal, but he repressed it ruthlessly for fear of disturbing Blair's peace.

When he judged Blair had spent enough time in the sun, Jim leaned over him, patting his cheek with gentle insistence. "Come on. You have to get out of the sun now. You're not used to it."

"What? What's the matter?" Blair's voice was slurred with sleep.

"Believe me, there are some places you just don't want to get sunburnt." Jim smiled, amused despite his sombre mood. He pushed and pulled at Blair until he'd got him into a sitting position. "You'll thank me for it."

"Okay, okay." Blair shoved his hands away, though not bad temperedly. He pulled on the shirt Jim handed him and reached for his pants, pulling them on without benefit of underwear. That done, he sat, his knees drawn up, his loose hair, mostly dry by now, falling around his face. "We don't have to go back today, do we?" He kept his gaze firmly on the hands he'd clasped around his knees.

It was the last thing Jim had expected to hear, and it took him a while to find his voice. "Not if you don't want to. I can let Simon know that we'll stay longer."

"I'd like to stay." Blair glanced sideways at him. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No. I don't mind." Not mind! It was all he could do to stop himself from yelling for the sheer joy of it. Judging by the tiny smile playing about Blair's lips, his Guide was well aware of that fact. Jim clambered to his feet. "In that case, we'd better do some more fishing."

It almost seemed as though they'd reached some kind of turning point. No longer awkward and wary with each other, it was easy to be together, sharing the small chores, swimming or relaxing together; actually talking... about anything; about everything except the recent past. That night as they settled to sleep, Blair lay close enough that Jim could, without any effort at all, feel the heat that escaped his sleeping bag, and smell the musky scent of his body. He moved closer, easing Blair onto his side, facing the dying fire, and then spooning up behind him to afford his Guide both protection and warmth. He slipped one arm out of his own sleeping bag and wrapped it loosely around Blair.

When he woke, in the grey light of early morning, they were still lying in the same position, though all that could be seen of Blair was the top of his head and a few recalcitrant strands of hair escaping from his braid. It would have been pleasant to stay like that, but Jim was suddenly assaulted by a surge of restlessness.

Rather than disturb his sleeping Guide he eased away from Blair and out of his sleeping bag. The chill morning air made him shiver and energised his body. He knew what was causing this - no matter how well they were now getting on, Blair had made no promises and once they returned to the city, Jim doubted that this rapport would survive the pressures of daily living. Besides, it just seemed too much to hope for that Blair could ever love him the way Jim needed him to.

Still naked, he crossed the damp grass to the pond's edge and decided suddenly to go in for a swim. The shock of the almost freezing water nearly made him cry out, and he plunged beneath the surface, coming up again with a gasp near the centre of the pool. A glance back to shore confirmed that Blair was still sleeping, and then Jim began to swim the length of the pool and back again, over and over until his arms and legs began to feel heavy with the effort. He really was out of shape.

By the time he made it back to shore, the first rays of sunlight were filling the clearing - not as far as the trees that sheltered their sleeping area, but enough for Jim to pause in a puddle of golden light and slick the wet hair back against his scalp with a satisfied sigh. He hadn't thought to bring his towel over, and the soft touch of sunlight on his skin was just too sweet to give up, so he skimmed his hands down over his body, sluicing away the drops that clung to him, then stretched until his tendons popped and his muscles protested.

His skin felt wonderful, invigorated - still slightly chilled, and tight over his body. And not only his skin... his nipples were hard little peaks, his cock stiff and rising in irrepressible expectation. For a moment Jim succumbed to temptation and swept his hands down over his belly, over his cock, pushing it down a little and then allowing it to spring back. He wouldn't permit himself more than that, in spite of the warm tingle of pleasure in his belly.

An unexpected surge of desire made him gasp suddenly, and then Jim realised that he was hearing the sound from another throat as well as his own. Across the clearing, Blair moved, pushing himself up onto one elbow, the sleeping bag slipping from his shoulder.

"Jim!" A slim, muscular arm reached out towards him and Jim went to his Guide, dropping to kneel beside Blair as the other man struggled into a sitting position and the sleeping bag pooled around his hips.

The wide blue eyes darkened as Blair's pupils dilated enormously. Under their scrutiny, Jim felt heat rising to his skin. In moments it felt as though he was on fire. Blair fumbled for his hand and he took it in a gentle grasp, wondering what was happening. Emotions roiled beneath the surface of his mind and he couldn't tell which were his own and which were Blair's.

"It's time." Blair's voice was so faint as to be almost inaudible, and yet it thundered in Jim's ears, almost drowning out his heartbeat. His hand was guided to Blair's chest, over his heart, and Blair's other hand covered Jim's pounding heart. "Jim, can't you feel it? It's time."

There was no doubting Blair's meaning, and yet Jim hesitated. He brushed his forefinger lightly down Blair's cheek, feeling the smooth skin give way to rough stubble and then to the soft moistness of Blair's bottom lip. A tremor ran through Blair's body and he sighed, unconsciously leaning forward, his lips closing briefly around Jim's fingertip. "Jim, please."

Suddenly Jim was more afraid than he'd ever been in his life. The scent of desire rose from Blair's body, confirming what Jim already knew - everything about Blair, from the pheromones that surrounded them both, to the frantic pounding of his heart told Jim that Blair's need was real and almost overpowering in its intensity. But, as they both knew, purely physical desire wasn't enough. Yes, Blair wanted him, needed the bond that sustained them both, but how was it possible that Blair could have put aside all the anger, the hate that he'd harboured against Jim for all those long months?

There was only one way to find out, but a part of Jim's mind rebelled. If Blair was trying to use him, or even simply deluding himself in order to get what he so desperately needed, Jim wasn't sure that he could bear to find out. Faced by this last hurdle, his courage was close to failing.

Uncertainty tinged the aura of Blair's mind. He leaned forward until their lips were almost touching. "Jim?"

His breath caressed Jim's cheek and Jim lifted his eyes to stare into his Guide's. He had to know. Deliberately, as he had done only two nights ago, but now with so much more to lose, Jim dropped all his shields and waited.

Blair's eyes widened. He lifted one hand to caress Jim's cheek in exactly the same way that Jim had just touched him. "It's all right. This is real, I promise you."

The opening of Blair's mind to his sent a shock through Jim that made him sway drunkenly. Never had he experienced his Guide so intimately, with no barrier to thought or emotion. Delicately, he touched the open wounds of grief and loss, and saw that they were at last beginning to heal. Blair's quiet sob tore through him, but Jim could not allow himself to feel what Blair was feeling. Blair needed him to be the balm that would ease his pain. He lingered there, moving away only at Blair's silent direction, but knowing that his presence had helped.

Immediately, he was assaulted by other, darker emotions - the anger and fear that Blair had nurtured so carefully, the despair that had alternated with hatred in dominating Blair's relationship with him - and saw them melt away before him. Behind them was the Blair he had only been allowed to glimpse on rare occasions. The Blair who loved and lived with all his heart, whose insatiable curiosity drove him to wild exploits that both amused and terrified his mother; the son, grandson, nephew, cousin who knew who he was and where he belonged - in the heart of his family. Who feared being alone far more than he feared death. Who had found, to his complete bewilderment, the other half of his soul in the man who had abused him so terribly. Who, somehow, had managed to overcome that dreadful obstacle and give his heart, damaged and hurting as it was, to Jim.

Their lips were pressed together, tender and aching, their every breath shared between them. Blair's tongue explored his mouth with a slow sensuality that sent tremors of desire through every muscle in Jim's body. The bond surrounded them now, comforting and nurturing; far more than a simple connection between Sentinel and Guide. He drew back reluctantly, his lips whispering over Blair's skin, delighting in the rough texture of Blair's morning stubble, sucking gently on Blair's bottom lip.

A faint, tremulous smile hovered around the corners of Blair's mouth and Jim returned it before dipping his head to kiss his Guide again. His hands fumbled with the braid, hanging over Blair's shoulder and across his chest, until he'd released the thick curls into a heavy blanket to warm Blair's back against the morning chill. He slid his hands under the thick fall of hair, gently stroking up and down Blair's back, unconsciously drawing him closer as he moved to straddle Blair's thighs.

"Jim." It was only the breath of a whisper, but it drew him back from the edge of infinity. He looked up into Blair's face, lips parted in invitation as Blair leaned forward to claim his mouth once again.

The sensuous dance of their tongues became a foretaste of sex. Teasing, darting incursions progressed to long, slow tongue-fucks that stole away all reason and stripped them both of any remaining uncertainties. It would have been easy to continue like this almost indefinitely, but a gentle touch on his hip sent a sudden shudder of aching need through him. Jim drew back, reluctance fighting with hunger, and bent his head to kiss the soft, sensitive skin at the base of Blair's throat.

"I love you. I want you. The gods know I need you." He sucked gently and swabbed his tongue across the spot, following the pulse in the vein, lying so close beneath the skin, up to Blair's jaw. "Blair, will you trust me?"

His bond-mate moaned helplessly. "You know I will."

He pressed against Blair's shoulders, easing him down to lie on the spread-out sleeping bag. "Everything I am, or ever will be is yours. You hold me in your hand. Do you understand that, love?"

"I'm beginning to." Blair's hand cupped his cheek, then slid back over his hair, down to the nape of his neck, guiding him back down for a long kiss. "It scares me... to know what I mean to you."

"Don't be afraid." Jim silenced him with another kiss. "This is what we were always meant to be."

"Jim..." Blair's voice shook with emotion, and the bond resonated with it. He pushed the sleeping bag away, flinging it open to bare himself completely. "Oh, fuck... please, Jim. Please. I need you so much."

"You have me. You always have, from the moment I found you." He bent his head and kissed one flushed nipple, lingering there, sucking gently, before gracing its twin with the same attention.

The tang of sweat on his tongue and the scent of arousal combined into an intoxicating mixture, sending shivers of delight through him. As the body beneath his also began to shake, he soothed the quivering muscles with hands and lips, whispering words of encouragement and disjointed endearments. He cupped the delicate arch of Blair's ribcage between his hands and slowly lowered his head to press his lips to Blair's belly. The taste and scent of Blair's excitement was even stronger here. Jim lapped away the slippery mixture of pre-cum and sweat with a shudder of arousal that wasn't entirely his own.

With a heartfelt groan, Blair's body arched, his hips thrusting up to meet Jim's caress. Jim took his time, pausing to appreciate, with lips and tongue, the thick, springy cock that lifted so eagerly toward him. When he deserted even that pleasure to explore the heavy balls beneath, Blair sobbed with frustration. But as Jim moved lower still, his lover's thighs spread for him with instinctive abandon.

Encouraging sounds and ruthless hands held Jim captive there for longer than he'd intended, but eventually he drew back with an incoherent murmur of apology. He captured Blair's cock once again, this time taking it into his mouth and sucking deeply. With a wail, Blair thrust up into him, only to be disappointed again when Jim released him. He lay panting, and staring up at Jim with wordless, if not entirely mute, reproach.

"Patience, love." Jim smiled weakly and wrapped a shaking hand around Blair's cock while he positioned himself. It was worth the effort to see the expression on Blair's face as he eased himself down onto the sensitive cockhead, pressing down until it penetrated the tight ring of muscle. He leaned forward a little and felt the sturdy cock slide deep inside him.

"Jim... oh, fuck..." Blair licked his bottom lip, his eyes still wide with shock. "You didn't have to..."

"It's what I want." Jim leaned down to kiss him quickly. "It's what I've always wanted."

He reached down and drew Blair up into a sitting position, wanting to feel his lover within the circle of his arms. Once again, he buried his hands under the thick curls and stroked Blair's back as they kissed. He could have stayed like this forever, with Blair's solid length filling his ass and Blair's mouth hot against his own.

"Please, Jim... let me..." Blair dragged his mouth away, lowering his head to fasten it against Jim's throat.

In all these months, in every fantasy, every moment of hope that Jim had allowed himself, he'd thought of how it would feel to finally touch Blair, to kiss him, to hear his groans of desire; it had never occurred to him to think of how it would feel when Blair touched him. In any case, it wasn't possible that he could have imagined this. Lush, moist kisses sent Jim's senses reeling, and the sweep of Blair's broad hands across his skin was the very definition of pleasure.

The bond flared between them, wide-open and unrestrained. Jim could feel the play of his muscles under Blair's fingers, could taste his own sweat in Blair's mouth. He could feel his body's tight clasp on Blair's cock, as if it were his own.

"Yes... oh, Jim..." Blair eased back a little, only to bow his head and take one of Jim's nipples between his lips. Jagged bolts of pleasure set Jim's cock afire and he groaned raggedly, cradling Blair's head against his chest. "You feel so good... so... good..."

Blair wrapped his hand gently around Jim's cock, squeezing, stroking; getting the measure of him, learning what pleased him. With the feedback running between them, it didn't take long. Jim rocked his hips into the steady rhythm of Blair's hand, almost delirious with sensual overload. No other lover, however skilled, could have matched the pleasure that Blair was giving him, that he was giving back to Blair via the bond.

Jim cupped his hand around the base of Blair's skull, supporting him as he eased his lover down again. He leaned over Blair, supporting himself at arms length as Blair began to thrust into him urgently. He rode the thick cock, slamming himself down onto it, demanding more and more sensation. The pleasure was almost pain now, the approaching orgasm like a threatening lightning storm; its presence crackled in the air around them. At the last moment Blair lunged upwards, flinging his arms around Jim's neck, and his lips met Jim's in a bruising kiss.

Sensation, emotion, raw need blasted into Jim as Blair's back arched and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. He felt Blair's cock swell inside him, felt it pulse and the scalding seed erupt into his body. Then he was falling, collapsing in a boneless heap across his lover's body, not even aware, until afterward, of his own climax.

Jim stretched luxuriously, aware of every aching muscle and sore spot, but not caring in the slightest. He was alone, yet not alone; he turned his head to smile at his bond-mate. Blair was sitting, cross-legged, on the edge of the sleeping bag, just inside the dappled shade of the trees. His hair was neatly braided, hanging over one shoulder. He was naked.

In spite of the fact that this was easily the most attractive sight he'd ever woken to, Jim's nose wrinkled. "I really think we need to go for a swim. We stink."

"I wonder why." Guileless blue eyes smiled back at him before turning to the sky. "I'm no expert, but I think it's getting late."

"Mm-hmm." Jim sat up, stretched again, and captured his lover with a quick move he'd learned in the army. Blair didn't even bother to resist. "I'll have to call Simon and let him know we're staying another day."

"Rafe's going to be at his wit's end, rescheduling all those meetings." Blair seemed blissfully unmoved by the prospect. "Again."

Jim nibbled the edge of his ear. "I'll blame you. He won't mind."

"Or we could always go back today, after all." Blair turned his head for a long kiss. "If we left now..."

"Are you kidding? I'm exhausted." Jim released Blair and lay down again. How many times had they made love today? He'd lost count, but it was certainly more times than a man his age had any right to expect. Still, he couldn't stay here forever, as much as he might want to. "We'll leave tomorrow. Early."

Blair leaned over him, a small smile hovering around his lips. "How early?" He wriggled his body until it was half on top of Jim's. Then he wriggled again, suggestively.

"Oh, some time around noon." Jim's hand cupped one muscular buttock. "If you don't kill me before then."

"You'll survive." Blair's eyes gleamed. "You're not doing too badly for an old guy."

"Old?" Jim tumbled his lover off his body and lunged for him as Blair twisted quickly and stumbled to his feet. "Who are you calling old?"

Blair laughed. It was a wonderful sound, young and carefree, and it stole Jim's breath away; long enough for Blair to get a head start. With a quickly suppressed groan, Jim pushed himself up and after his bond-mate. He caught Blair at the edge of the pool, scooped him up and over one shoulder and waded into the pool until the water level was at mid-thigh. It wasn't too hard to control Blair's struggles, and Jim paused to enjoy his momentary superiority. "I'll show you who's old."

"Jim? Jim, what're you gonna..." He dumped Blair into the pool with a loud splash, then hauled him upright again into a firm embrace. "Fuck, that's cold! Jim, you're not..."

But it was too late; Jim sank beneath the water, circling his lover menacingly. This was going to be fun.

epilogue:

The audience chamber was hushed, despite the huge crowd. Everybody who could possibly find an excuse to be there had come. Blair was seated beside him on the Double Throne, dressed in a rich but sombre dark red tunic and dark grey leather pants, as self contained as Jim had ever seen him, even at the worst of times. Now he knew how unnatural that was for his bond-mate, he found it more disturbing than ever.

His family were all there; Carolyn in the Consort's chair to his left and the children to his right. Lissa and Yanni were closest to him, sitting together in the Heir's Double Throne and the two boys sat beyond them. All of them were utterly serious and Jim had to hold back a smile of pure pride at the sight of Lissa's pretty face set in lines of stern concentration.

They were as ready as they'd ever be. Jim nodded to Simon. His Chief of Security spoke subvocally into his implant and a few seconds later the pirates were brought in.

It was quite unnecessary to ask if Blair recognised them. The moment they entered the chamber, Blair's heartbeat went crazy. Jim could smell the fear and distress on his skin and hear the shaken breathing even over the normal scents and sounds of the assembled throng. Still, this had to be done, if only to ensure that the correct procedure was followed. Reluctantly, Jim rose.

"Blair Sandburg, do you recognise these persons as the pirates who attacked your family's vessel, abducted you, and murdered your family?" He kept his voice steady with an effort. He had to remain as free of emotion as possible, otherwise how would Blair ever get through this?

Blair stood too, steady as a rock beside him, in spite of the physical reactions that battered at his self-control. "I do recognise them."

A little murmur ran through the onlookers. Jim waited for it to end. "Chief, escort the prisoners to the dock."

Simon nodded to his officers and the six men and two women were herded into the hastily erected stand, where they were able to sit facing the twelve citizens who would determine their fate. The next part was little more than a formality; the real trial would be before the Federation's Piracy Tribunal on Centrex. All that was required here was a display of the evidence against them. Then they could be bound over for trial off planet.

"Chief, the evidence please."

"Sire. I have a holographic record of the condition of the vessel 'Sandburg's Folly'." Simon held up the tiny cube for everyone to see. "I also have the results of forensic testing of the vessel."

"Play the recording." Jim reached surreptitiously for Blair's hand, the movement hidden by the formal robe he was wearing. It was icy cold.

From this angle, nobody sitting on the dais would be able to see the holographic display. There was no way Jim wanted his children or Blair to see what it contained. The shocked sounds coming from the audience and the jury were bad enough; he felt Blair's quickly suppressed shudder and tightened his grip on the cold hand.

When the recording stopped, Jim turned towards Simon. "Please present the forensic evidence."

Simon stepped up to the comms unit. "Request data from file 'Sandburg'. Identify all DNA residue found on vessel 'Sandburg's Folly'."

"Working." The quiet mechanical voice paused fractionally. "Sample one: Aylene Sandburg. Sample two: Rogan Sandburg. Sample three: unknown."

A murmur ran through the audience. The DNA of every human being was recorded at birth. Only viral engineering could alter that DNA and any legitimate medical or cosmetic enhancements were automatically uploaded into the universal database. Only the most hardened criminals thought it worthwhile to pay the exorbitant fees it would take to have their DNA altered without leaving any trace.

The roll call of the dead continued. If Jim hadn't seen the holovid for himself, it would have been almost impossible to take in the fact that the names he was hearing were real, once-living, people. Blair's name was among them, the only survivor, and Jim heard him sob quietly when his mother's name was read out. The emotionless voice finally fell silent. In all ten DNA samples were unaccounted for.

After a brief hesitation Simon spoke grimly. "Match the unidentified samples against DNA samples taken from the accused."

Six of the samples matched with six of the eight accused. The other four matched the DNA of four out of the six pirates who'd been killed when Simon's operatives had stormed their base. Jim turned to the jury. "You have only one duty here, and that is to determine whether this evidence, coupled with the identification of these people by the sole survivor of the crew, is sufficient to bind over the accused for trial by the Federation. You may take as much time as you wish to make your decision."

It didn't surprise him to see the exchange of glances and a hurried, whispered consultation between the leader and the other eleven members of the jury. "Sire, we are all agreed that the accused should stand trial."

Jim quelled another outbreak of comment by the audience with a scowl. "Thank you. You are released from your duty. Chief, please take the prisoners away."

The audience chamber was almost empty now, except for the Double Throne. Few people would have recognised their Sentinel Prime and his Guide in the two men seated there. Jim had long since discarded his official robe and was sprawled across the broad seat, legs spread wide to accommodate his lover. One arm was wrapped around the younger man's waist and, with his free hand hidden inside Blair's unfastened tunic he was idly stirring the soft, slightly coarse chest hair. Where words would have been too raw to ease Blair's pain, the simple touch was able to bring silent comfort to both men. Blair's hair was unbound from its braid, falling like a heavy, living shawl across Jim's chest; his head was tilted back to rest against Jim's shoulder.

Slowly, the sorrow and pain that had roiled through the bond they shared had faded to a gentle wave, lapping at the edges of their consciousness without seriously disturbing it; in spite of that neither of them was ready to face the outside world as yet. Their emotions were still too near the surface, their composure still too fragile. They hadn't spoken more than a few words in the last hour, but there was no lack of communication between them.

Blair sighed and turned his head, smiling up at Jim. "I'm sorry. I must be depressing company right now."

"But I love you anyway." Jim lifted his hand from Blair's chest and angled his beloved's face for a kiss. "It's over now, sweetheart. We can move on."

"Is it over?" Infinite sadness shadowed Blair's blue eyes.

It would never really be over, Jim knew. Nobody recovered from the loss of a whole family in one awful blow. Especially not someone like Blair, an empath who had felt each death as though it was his own. It had been a slight comfort to find out that the pirates had not targeted the vessel because of Blair; that it had simply been a coincidence that Blair had been a possible candidate to become Jim's Guide. It had saved Blair's life, for which Jim would always be grateful, and it had absolved Jim of responsibility for the deaths of Blair's family. There was little else to celebrate.

Jim sighed. "No. But we've done all we can. Our testimonies have been recorded and there's no real doubt they'll be convicted. We can start to look forward instead of to the past. We have each other. We have a future."

"Together." Blair twisted around, awkwardly since they were sitting almost sideways along the throne, and knelt facing Jim. "Yes. We have each other."

He drew Blair's head down and his hands slid up to tangle deeply in Blair's riotous curls. How could words ever express what he felt when they kissed like this? Joy melded with sorrow and gradually transmuted it into an aching desire. Jim brushed Blair's tunic aside, baring one shoulder and upper arm, and pressed his lips to the dark, sweet nipple above Blair's heart.

"Jim! Jim, we can't..." Blair made no attempt to move away. Every sense told Jim that he wanted this, wanted it desperately. He knew all too well how necessary physical contact was to ease his lover's wounded heart. "What if..."

"We won't be disturbed. I gave Simon orders to allow nobody in here until after we've left. He's guarding the door himself." Jim returned to his gentle sucking for a moment then kissed the smooth skin of Blair's shoulder. "Let me make love to you?"

"Here?" Amusement quirked up the corners of Blair's mouth. "I must be a bad influence on you, my love."

"Oh, you are." Jim grinned. "As if you didn't already know."

"It makes me happy to corrupt you." And indeed, Blair's smile was almost devoid of shadows now. He began unbuttoning Jim's tunic. "And you know I can't refuse you anything."

"Unless you really want to." Jim released him reluctantly and lifted his arms so Blair could remove his tunic. They shifted positions so Blair could straddle his lap. "This would go a lot smoother if you removed those incredibly sexy pants."

"I suppose it would." Blair looked thoughtful, but made no attempt to follow Jim's suggestion.

Heaving a longsuffering sigh, Jim slid his hands under Blair's tunic and began unfastening the pants. Beneath the soft leather he found only bare skin and he opened his senses to the fullest as his fingers drifted over Blair's belly and swelling cock. "Kiss me, then."

That was a request Blair would never ignore. Sometimes Jim thought that his lover enjoyed kissing even more than sex. That luscious mouth closed over his and by the time their lips parted again they were both hard and panting.

Jim smiled lazily. "Lose the pants."

This time Blair didn't hesitate. The soft, loose boots were easily removed and Blair twisted out of Jim's arms to peel off his pants. The tunic was more than long enough for decency, though decent was hardly the word that came to Jim's mind at the sight of his Guide. With his hair tousled, his lips kiss-swollen, and the tunic still hanging off one shoulder, he looked more wanton than the most provocative of concubines. He clambered back onto Jim's lap and reached for the front of Jim's pants.

"Mmn..." The relief of having his cock released sent a shudder through Jim's body. He shoved his pants and underwear down, out of the way.

Blair leaned into him, his hair falling about them both and tickling Jim's skin delightfully. He reached for Blair's hips, pulling him even closer and sliding the tunic up high enough that Blair's cock pressed directly against his belly.

"Jim... oh yes..." Blair rocked his hips, rubbing his cock against Jim's. After the first delirious moment, he drew himself up, reaching for Jim's cock, guiding it to his opening. With a groan of pleasure, he lowered himself onto his lover's shaft, sinking down until he was sitting on Jim's lap. "Oh, love, I need this. I need you."

"Yes." Jim stroked one bare thigh gently, sliding his hand up and around to cup Blair's firm buttock. With his other hand he slowly pumped Blair's cock just enough to keep him hard. "And I need you."

For a while it was enough just to have that physical connection. They returned to their kisses, groaning as each became more desperate than the last, but neither moved until it became impossible to remain still. Blair broke first, shuddering, and his thigh muscles bunched as he began to ride his lover's cock.

It was almost impossible for Jim to thrust, however urgently he might want to. The best he could do was to rock his hips up into Blair's downward thrusts and to guide his lover with one hand, while he pumped Blair's cock with the other. Their pleasure rebounded from one to the other through the bond, feeding on itself until they were both spiralling out of control. Blair's breathless sobs reached breaking point and he plunged down onto Jim's cock and remained there.

"Now! Now!" Blair's head flew back, his face wild with passion, as he came in hot, hard spurts between Jim's fingers.

As they always did, nowadays, Jim climaxed at the same moment; the bond ensuring that one could not outlast the other. With an effort, he managed to wrap Blair in his arms and hold him as he collapsed, sobbing against Jim's chest.

Ostensibly, it was Yanni's eighth birthday party. In reality, the gathering was an attempt to distract everybody from the sombre mood that had hung over the top floor of the palace for the last few days. Yesterday the pirates had been deported to Centrex to stand trial. It would be months before the outcome of that was decided and Jim knew that there was no better way to cheer his lover up than with a family party.

"Bet you can't!"

"Can too!"

Jim heard the words that ought to strike terror into any parent's heart, but chose to ignore them. Blair was better with the kids in any case, and if not Blair, well there were plenty of other adults who could step in if things got too rough. He continued his conversation with Carolyn until the noise coming from the junior members of the gathering made it impossible, even for Sentinel ears, to hear any normal tones.

Whatever had started it, the dispute, if that was what it had been, had progressed into a general free-for-all comprising of Yanni and the three royal children - who definitely ought to know better - Daryl, and Blair. Rafe was hanging around the edges but, as Jim watched, a hand, adult sized, shot out and grabbed him by the ankle, pulling him off balance and into the melee.

Shortly after that Henri's sense of decorum, always a fragile commodity, gave way to temptation and he flung himself into heaving mass of bodies. Things degenerated rapidly after that but, curiously, none of the remaining adults seemed inclined to interfere. Simon simply rolled his eyes, leaned his head closer to Joel and bellowed. Jim and Carolyn watched in bemusement and Megan slipped out of her preposterously high heels, hitched up her long gown in a most unladylike manner and charged in, whooping like a savage. Jim suspected she had a soft spot for Rafe, who was definitely looking less than his usual elegant self.

Through their bond, Jim could feel Blair's happiness and contentment, and that was enough to make up for all the noise and disruption. It was only a family gathering, after all. Blair's family, Jim realised suddenly, and wondered why he hadn't seen it before. It was Blair who had drawn them all together. Who had adopted Jim's family as his own, made servants into friends and friends into family. It occurred to him, forcefully, that Blair should father some children; pass on his genes and his family's lineage. It would benefit both Blair and Cascade, because surely any child of Blair's would make an incomparable Guide. Maybe Megan would be willing to help them out, if Rafe didn't object - which was starting to seem quite likely. If he did... well, they'd just have to make their own contributions to the family gene pool.

His thoughts were distracted by a yelp and a sudden tightening of his nerves, which meant that something had happened to Blair. Jim shot out of his chair. "Enough!"

Miraculously, the room went quiet, except for the breathless panting of eight assorted adults and children. Under his sternest glare the tangle of bodies resolved itself into its component parts, most of whom were not noticeably the worse for wear. The same could not be said of their clothing. Last of all, Blair emerged, long strands of hair poking out wildly from his braid and his shirt torn at the shoulder. But his face was bright with laughter and whatever damage had been done was clearly not serious. He made his way to Jim's side completely unmoved by his lover's commanding stance. It was blatantly obvious that the others were counting on him to wheedle them all out of trouble.

"You're worse than all the rest of them put together." Jim tried, and failed completely, to keep his face straight.

Blair's arms came up and wrapped themselves around Jim's neck. He leaned in and spoke in a confidential murmur. "Thank you, Sire."

Sire. As though Jim wasn't as much under Blair's spell as everyone else in the room. He put one hand on the small of Blair's back, pulled him closer and nuzzled his cheek. "Just don't let them wear you out. That's my job."

End Taming of the Guide by elaine: shaman@slashzone.org

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