Author's webpage: http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Network/6332

Author's disclaimer: Everything related to "The Sentinel" belongs to PetFly. I only own a handful of words. No copyright infringement was intended. No money was made from their usage. Darn. :)

Author's notes: Thanks to all of my betas, wod and renaitrai, who really helped shape this story, and to Diana for helping to polish it and always finding just the right words and phrasing.

A Fleeting Vision

The vision's memory is enough to keep my love intact,
To tell of love and life transcending time,
And join us in a marriage with the universe
Where death is only life when merged with love!

--James Kavanaugh

It was raining the day Jim Ellison died. In fact, it continued to rain the week following Jim's death, like the world was mourning his passing as well. Blair Sandburg refused to believe that Jim was dead until Simon escorted the shaking young man into the morgue. Realizing the pale, cold, lifeless body was indeed Jim Ellison, the surviving lover passed out, his security and stability shattering around him.

The finality of Jim's death was almost too much for Blair to handle, so he retreated into himself. He spent the next two days in their bed, their big, empty bed, with only Jim's scent on the pillows to keep him company in the dark. In his silence, Blair was aware of the steady stream of mourners coming through the loft, but he didn't speak to anyone; keeping a weak grasp on his sanity was all he could handle, and he didn't need to hear the grief and pity in other's voices, he was living it.

Simon pushed his own grief aside as best he could and made all the necessary arrangements. He offered his sympathies to Jim's father and brother, offered his shoulder to the men and women of Major Crimes, cried with Daryl and sat vigil at Blair's side every night, holding his hand and hoping it was enough to see the younger man through the worst of the darkness.

The day of Jim's funeral, Blair rose at dawn and mediated. Afterwards, he showered and dressed, his movements slow and methodical, as if every one was a struggle. He chose a tie from Jim's closet and tied it with trembling hands. As Jim's long time partner and lover, Blair was expected to be at Jim's grave, and he would be. Blair would stand next to Bill Ellison and accept the folded American flag from Simon, and he would honor Jim's memory.

Again it rained, but rain, like tears, has a tendency to wash away the bad and leave only the good behind. Sad memories were washed away by the tears, and in their place came memories of camping trips, of Jags games, of a quiet man who loved completely and who was now gone.

With the echo of the twenty-one gun salute still jarring the graveside silence, the heavens had stopped their downfall. The clouds had parted enough for a shaft of golden light to pour through. In that one brief moment, standing at Jim's coffin, Blair smiled and a single tear slid down his cheek. That ray of sunlight had chosen to pause upon the dark mahogany wood and the devastated man beside it, and suddenly, Blair was flooded by the love he felt for Jim. Its intensity coursed through his blood, filling Blair with a warmth he had thought lost when he accepted Jim's death. Blair felt Jim's presence in his heart and head, and he knew that he would never be alone again.

Time passed-a day, a week, a month, a year-life happened. A dissertation was published but there was no Sentinel to share the degree with. Expeditions were undertaken and information was gathered. Papers where written and published. A professorship was offered and accepted, at Rainier of all places.

Blair's life was full and rich. He taught multiple courses at the graduate and undergraduate levels. His students hung on his every word, living vicariously through his tales, promising themselves equal adventures. Other professors sought him out, asking for valued opinions. Friends from his past, from the years he had been a consultant to the police department, called and invited him to their houses for dinners and holidays. He always agreed to go.

Blair's life was long and happy. And on the day of his death, it rained.

Friends, colleagues and students gathered to say their goodbyes. Daryl Banks stood vigil at Blair's coffin, his thoughts drifting back to Jim's funeral so many years before. At the time, Daryl had been too young to understand the depth of Blair's loss, but now, holding his wife's hand, he understood. He only hoped that wherever Jim and Blair were, they were together again.

In the shadow lands, the place where lovers wait to be reunited, the two men stood face to face. They looked as they had the day they'd admitted their love, young and happy, full of wonder at the joy that awaited them on their road together. While more than a handful of years had passed for Blair, Jim had only been without his lover's presence for no more than a flicker of time, a whisper of a breath.

The sun, no longer wrapped in mourning, shook off her sadness, for the lovers were reunited, and this time, there would be no goodbyes.

The end.