Author's website: http://writingonthewall.slashcity.net/~angelise7/toc.htm
This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only. Original characters Sharrie, Dawn and Chloe belong to me.
'Light My Fire' Award Nominee for Best Non Jim/Blair Pairing.

Definitely not canon in regards to how a sentinel's senses comes online--you have been warned. Also, young love relationship. James is in high school.

This story is a sequel to: Work of Desire, Chapter 18

"The young one, he's gone off to bed?"

"Yes, Marta." Simon handed his longtime housekeeper the empty dessert plate and coffee cup he had been holding hostage for the past hour. "Thanks again for making those brownies. James absolutely loves them."

"That boy will eat anything chocolate. He is a bottomless pit when it comes to desserts," Marta groused good-naturedly. Collecting a glass left behind by one of Simon's guests, the older woman inquired, "Is there anything else you need before I retire for the night, sir?"

Pushing back his chair, Simon stood and walked to the edge of the patio before answering, "That's all for tonight. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Marta." He heard his housekeeper start to walk away, but then she stopped and returned to his side. The woman remained silent for several seconds, prompting Simon to ask, "Is something wrong?"

Marta hesitated, and with a nervous cough finally said, "I . . . Simon, you must know by now that I have deep affection for James, even if he is, as Dawn puts it, full of shit."

"He is that," Simon agreed with an indulgent chuckle.

James had formed a strong bond with Marta shortly after his accident, and more often than not, the two could be found in the kitchen playing poker of all things. It seemed both James and Marta were fanatics about the game, which explained the reason peanut M&M's were a permanent item on the grocery list. Simon's resident card sharks used the small candies to bet with, and because James was the victor nine times out of ten, it was no wonder the teen had put on a couple of pounds since his release from the hospital.

Marta patted her employer affectionately on the arm. "James is a good boy, Simon, and I would hate for anything to happen to him."

Simon captured Marta's hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. "Marta, what's this about?"

Again silence reigned for a number of seconds before the normally reticent woman spoke again. "Keep James close, Simon. The Blair that visited us tonight is not the same young man you brought into this house so many years ago. He's changed, and frankly the way he looks at our James makes me very uncomfortable."

The warning bells sounded in his mind once more. "And just how does Blair look at James?" Simon inquired even though he already suspected he knew the answer.

"As if he's starving and James is his next meal." Marta gathered Simon's hand in both of hers and squeezed it hard. "Be careful, sir. Do not let Blair steal what is rightfully yours. And James is certainly yours, Simon. He loves you with his whole heart. You can see it in his eyes whenever he looks at you. Don't let Blair take that away."

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced at the pain knocking against the back of his eyeballs. He had always known James would one day leave him for another man. He just hadn't thought it would be this soon and with someone who had nearly destroyed his world.

"Thank you, Marta. I appreciate your concern." Calling to his dog, Simon collected Jeffrey's harness and instructed the canine to guide him toward the rose garden. "See you in the morning."

"Good night, Simon."

Simon followed Jeffrey down the stairs and along the gravel pathway that led to his home's award-winning rose garden. There was an abundance of the blooms this year, and Simon took a moment to savor the exquisite scents floating through the evening air. When their familiar fragrance failed to calm his feeling of unease, Simon reached for his one true addiction, an expensive hand-rolled Cuban cigar. He had nearly finished smoking the cigar before he finally felt relaxed enough to allow his mind to process what had occurred that night.

Dawn and Sharrie, along with Blair, had accepted Simon's invitation to stop by for dessert, and it was during their visit that James had had another spell, this one brought on by a severe muscle cramp in the calf of his fractured leg. The teen had been overwhelmed by the pain, almost to the point of having a seizure, and it was only with Blair's unorthodox assistance that they had been able to prevent James from injuring himself.

During the entire incident Simon was forced to stand by helplessly while Blair worked with the nearly incoherent teenager. And even though it was Simon's embrace James had sought once the danger was past, it was Blair's voice and touch that had calmed his frightened trembling.

Simon was extremely loath to admit it, but he had resented the intimate manner in which Blair had spoken to James. He also took major umbrage with the way Blair had fondled the teen. Simon realized his eyes were permanently offline, but his ears were working just fine, and his acute hearing had easily picked up on the caressing hands touching James.

It went without saying that James had also protested Blair's touch, both verbally and physically, more so the latter and in terms that left no room for confusion. A small smile crept across Simon's face when he recalled the `witchdoctor punk' comment James had hurled at Blair when the anthropologist's hands had wandered below the teen's waist while Simon was assisting his lover to his feet. James, once righted, had balanced himself on his good leg and threw a punch at Blair. Blair expertly ducked and James had gone ballistic when the man called him by the nickname, `Big Guy.' Screaming expletives, James had lifted Blair in the air and tossed him toward Sharrie before falling backwards into Simon's arms.

"Call me that again," James had growled angrily from the safe shelter of Simon's embrace, "and I'll rip you a new one."

Sensing the undercurrents of emotions between Blair and James but unwilling to consider its cause, Simon had taken James inside and coaxed him upstairs to bed. He sat with the teen until he had finished three of Marta's brownies, and it wasn't until James had fallen asleep that Simon took himself back downstairs. It came as no surprise to find Blair and the girls sitting outside on the patio waiting patiently for his return.

+++++++

"How long has he been having these spells?" Blair asked Simon the second after he sat down. "It's the third one I've witnessed firsthand. How many other incidents have there been where he's either acted irrationally or as if he's totally spaced out, not responding to his environment or those around him?"

Sharrie was the first to remind everyone of James' accident. Eyewitnesses had reported how the teen had stopped dead in the path of an oncoming garbage truck and hadn't responded when the driver of the truck had blown his horn repeatedly in warning.

Dawn was next, recalling the bizarre behavior James had exhibited shortly after being transferred from the ER to his hospital room on that very same day. She described to Blair how James had been screaming and clawing at the cast immobilizing his broken leg.

Simon remained silent, leaving it to Blair to explain to Sharrie and Dawn the incident that had occurred at the pool three days ago. Instead of joining in on the conversation, Simon struggled to remember if there had been any sign, anything in James' behavior that would have alerted him so that he could have prevented the teen from tumbling into the pool and nearly drowning.

"I, of course at that time, didn't realize what had happened," Blair's voice interrupted Simon's thoughts. "I knew he was looking in my direction but had no clue to the fact that he was experiencing what I now know was a zone-out. It wasn't until he lost focus again once we got him out of the pool and nearly stopped breathing that I began to suspect." Blair jumped up and started to pace, his hands and feet moving as fast as his mouth.

"My suspicions were confirmed this evening when James commented on something I said to Sharrie. There was no way he could have heard that conversation. We were standing by the pool, alone. Also, I don't know if any of you noticed but shortly after we sat down, James started listening to tunes on his MP3 player."

"What's strange about that? He does it all the time." Sharrie commented.

Blair picked up the miniature audio device James had left behind. "Without headphones? Come on, guys, I don't know about you, but it was quite obvious the kid was jamming to some seriously cool music. Again, I repeat, without headphones."

"Add that to what just happened." Blair stopped dead in his tracks and nervously carded his hands through his long hair. "The boy possesses heightened senses. I'd stake my life on it. That can be the only answer to all of this."

Blair twisted around and looked unerringly at the window that marked where Simon's bedroom was located. The awe in his voice was unmistakable as he whispered almost to himself, "I can't believe after all these years that I've actually found one, a real live sentinel. Dear Goddess, I'm forever in your debt for bringing me to James. I can be his guide. Teach him everything he needs to know about his senses."

+++++++

Simon rubbed at his throbbing temples while taking a seat on one of the granite benches scattered throughout the garden. Less than an hour ago he had come close to tossing Blair out on his ear, literally, and it didn't matter one iota that Blair had once meant the whole world to Simon. The possessiveness of his former lover's words, the way his voice dropped down to a husky whisper when talking about James was almost too much for Simon. His inner voice had screamed at him to take James and run like hell, but the more he had listened to Blair explain what he thought James was, the more Simon realized he and his current lover would have to stay put in Cascade. James' life was too precious to risk, and as much as he now resented Blair's intrusion into their lives, Simon would never put James in danger by taking him away from the one person who could help him deal with his unique senses.

Simon dropped his head into his hands and moaned softly. He still didn't comprehend the magnitude of what Blair had told them. Why after over a hundred years did the world suddenly decide it needed a sentinel? And why James? The boy was only a teenager, for god's sake, and had his whole life ahead of him.

A life that now would include guide extraordinaire, Blair Sandburg.

+++++++

Dawn had taken immediate offense to Blair's enthusiastic offer to be James' guide.

"I beg your pardon. James has a guide already. Simon can help James deal with his senses. He is his lover, after all."

Blair threw his arms around Simon and kissed him affectionately on the cheek. "No offense, man, but being James' guide is a responsibility you can't just assume is yours because you're fucking him. It doesn't work that way. A sentinel's senses are unique and will only respond to his chosen guide."

"And just why in the hell do you think that's you?" Completely forgetting the fact that Blair would soon be the father of her child, Dawn surged to her feet and pushed the anthropologist away from Simon. "James is with Simon and not because Simon is fucking him. He genuinely loves Simon, and Simon loves him. One plus one equals two in my book. Why does the fact that he's a sentinel suddenly make that equation equal three?" Dawn slipped her arm around Simon's shoulders and hugged him. "Simon is the logical choice."

"I'm not saying that Simon can't help James with his senses. Sir Richard Burton, the explorer, not the actor," Blair explained when Dawn looked at him with confusion, "did mention in his writings that the sentinel could be assisted by other members of the tribe during times when a guide was unavailable, injured or sick. Unfortunately, from what I understand, that person would more than likely have to use force to bring the sentinel out of a zone, whereas his guide could do it with just a word or touch."

"What do you mean use force? Hit him upside the head with a two by four?" Sharrie chuckled. "If that's the case, I'm sure Dawn will volunteer for the job." Sharrie ignored the sassy tongue aimed at her. "Are you saying we'd have to hit James in order to break him free of his senses?"

"Break his concentration is more like it. Remember, a zone out is where the sentinel's total concentration on one particular sense overwhelms all others. A mere tap on the shoulder or the calling of his name by someone who is not his guide won't do the trick." Blair resumed his seat and took a healthy swallow of the beer he had been sipping on earlier. "And yes, to answer your question, you, Dawn, and Simon would probably have to slap James, possibly repeatedly, or even yell at him in order to bring him out of a zone. Even then there is no guarantee it'll work. That's why a guide is so important."

Blair leaned forward and fixed his gaze on the chair James had occupied earlier. "A sentinel's very life could be placed in danger if he was caught in a zone out. James has cheated death twice that I know of. How many more times do you think he can do so and live to tell the tale?"

Dawn clutched at Simon's hand as she slipped back into her chair. One look at the artist's frightened features and she immediately wrapped her arm around his stiffly held frame, hugging him with all of her strength. "Blair's full of shit, Simon," she whispered in his ear. "Don't pay attention to anything he says."

Sharrie spared a glance at her mate before turning back to Blair and asking, "So what you're telling us is that you feel you're James' chosen guide, and you're basing that assumption on the fact that you were able to bring him back just now by only talking to him? That we," Sharrie indicated herself, Dawn and Simon, "would have had to beat the living shit out of James in order to accomplish the same thing."

Blair avoided looking at his former lover. "Basically, yes."

Sharrie quickly shifted her gaze from Blair to Dawn when she heard the younger woman cry out softly with pain. Dawn was cradling her hand against her breast while staring anxiously at Simon. "What about all those other times James zoned? You definitely weren't at the hospital."

"What day was that? What hospital? I've been in Cascade for several weeks now."

"It was Cascade General." Sharrie turned to Dawn. "Do you remember when, sweetheart?"

Dawn stopped flexing her fingers and smiled briefly at her lover. "How could I forget? It was the day Simon cut his hand." She quoted the particular date and frowned when Blair started bouncing in his chair and nodding his head. "What?"

"I was there," Blair answered with absolute certainty.

"How do you know that?" Dawn cautiously slipped her hand back into Simon's and grimaced at how cold it felt. "You're joking, right? You were there? We certainly didn't see you. And you sure as hell weren't in the room when James went nuts."

"I was there at the hospital," Blair repeated. Deliberately ignoring Dawn's look of incredulity, he went on to explain. "The university requires a physical exam for all new hires, and that was the date I had mine done. You can check with Dr. McCabe if you don't believe me."

Blair jumped up again and resumed his pacing. "Besides, I don't have to be in the room in order to assist James with his senses. You've got to understand that his hearing is off the scale. I could have been on the roof of the hospital and he still would have heard my voice or picked up on my heartbeat." Stopping behind James' chair, Blair ran his hands along the upper edge of the backrest, his touch appearing more like a caress to those watching him. "Sir Burton's research indicated that a sentinel and his guide were predestined from birth to be together, and if that's true, then James has been unconsciously searching for me from the moment his senses came online. He must have latched onto my voice that day, and it instinctively calmed his hyster---"

"No!"

Simon stood up abruptly, nearly tipping over the table in his haste to escape the consequences of Blair's words. He had heard enough, and in no way was he ready to hand James over to Blair even if he knew in his heart it was the best thing for the teen.

"I want all of you to go home. Now."

Suddenly feeling weary to the bone, Simon turned his back on his guests and was reaching for Jeffrey's harness when he heard Dawn hiss angrily at Blair.

"You bastard. See what you've done."

Chairs were pushed back from the table but instead of his guests leaving as instructed, they all moved to his side.

"Simon, I apologize. I never meant to impl---"

"Blair didn't mean to up---"

"You want me to kick his ass, Simon?"

The last came from Dawn and caused Simon to chuckle. He reached for her hand and flinched noticeably when Blair intercepted his move.

"Simon, let me explain."

Yanking his hand free, Simon spoke harshly to his ex-lover. "You've explained enough for one night, Blair. Go away."

"Boss?"

Simon gracefully sidestepped the arm sliding around his waist. He offered his loyal assistant a smile of appreciation. "Please, all of you go home."

Several more apologies were offered before his trio of guests finally realized he truly meant for them to leave. The last to walk away, surprisingly, was Sharrie, and she refused to move until Simon returned her hug.

"We won't let Blair destroy what you have with James," she confidently told him.

Simon felt the threat of tears and tightened his hold on the plump woman. "I want what's best for James, and if that's . . . ." Simon surrendered to his emotions and allowed the tears to fall freely down his cheeks. "He's my heart, Sharrie. I don't know if I can handle losing him to Blair."

"Who said anything about losing James to Blair?"

Simon released Sharrie, gently pushing her away when she tried to embrace him again. "It's inevitable, my dear, and I've known it from day one. James is young and handsome and would be a fool to tie himself down with someone like me." Simon dug out the shades he rarely wore and slipped them on. "If we are to believe what we were told tonight, that James is truly a sentinel and that Blair is indeed his guide, then I'm the odd man out. One and one equals two as Dawn reminded us. Unfortunately, that seems to be James and Blair."

Unconsciously, Simon rubbed a hand over his chest and frowned when it did nothing to assuage the deep ache inside. "And no, it doesn't matter that Blair and I were once lovers. I'm not into threesomes. My heart's not wired that way."

"Simon, you can't believe that your relationship with James is over. He loves you, not Blair. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that he hates Blair with a passion."

"My point exactly. I'm blind, not stupid, Sharrie. The attraction is already there, and I can't do a damn thing about it, especially if it was predestined from birth." Lifting his hand, Simon put a halt to Sharrie's protest. "Go home, Sharrie. Your daughter and wife are waiting for you."

Turning away, Simon walked back to the table and sat down. He fumbled for the plate of brownies Marta had baked and upon locating it, helped himself to the largest one. The second he heard Sharrie's footsteps fade away, he dropped the brownie and pushed his plate away in disgust.

"Why? Can someone tell me why I'm so damn unlucky when it comes to love?"

Lowering his head in his hands, Simon cried for the first time in years.

+++++++

Hours later a wet nose nudged his hand and Simon reluctantly relinquished his seat of meditation in the rose garden. "I take it you're ready for bed?" he asked. Collecting Jeffrey's harness Simon followed the Lab back to the house and once inside, released the dog so that he could roam freely throughout the spacious kitchen. "See you in the morning, partner," he told his constant companion.

Without conscious thought, Simon found himself standing outside the door of his bedroom, and he remained there for nearly a quarter of an hour. Feelings of anger, sorrow, hopelessness, and longing swirled through his mind while he stood staring at the spot where his current lover lay.

"James," Simon whispered brokenly while reaching out a hand to the person who dwelled deep inside his heart. The thought of living the rest of his life without the teenager at his side tortured him mercilessly, to the point of actually causing him physical pain. He clutched at the doorframe and struggled to keep from crying again.

The sound of James moving restlessly on the bed finally freed Simon from his emotional prison, and he slowly walked into his bedroom, taking a seat beside the snoring teenager. He stretched out a hand and hesitantly touched James' bare chest, allowing his fingers to trace the spot where the boy's heart lay. A trembling sigh whispered through the silence, and Simon wasn't sure if it came from himself or his lover.

Seconds turned into minutes while Simon sat contemplating his future. It wasn't until James turned on his side and instinctively snuggled closer to Simon that the older man made his decision.

"Blair can be your guide, but that's all." Simon slid his hand down James' back and rested it on the curve of his ass. "That's at least until you decide otherwise. Pending that . . . ."

Leaning down, Simon tenderly kissed James' cheek. "Pending that, I plan on loving you to the max. Hope Marta won't mind sewing on more buttons."

As if he had heard his lover's words, James bumped his groin against Simon's hip. "Si?" he sleepily inquired.

Simon eased James over on his back before reaching for the bottle of lubricant they kept stashed under the pillows. "Gonna love you so good, Tiger, you'll remember this night for the rest of your life."

Simon tipped back his head and moaned softly when drowsy fingers found their way beneath his shirt and began tugging on his nipples. "I'll remember," he assured his awakening lover. "When I'm alone with only my memories, I'll remember this night. Remember you, our love, and hopefully it'll be enough." Gathering James in his arms, Simon embraced him while desperately trying to ignore the agony of his heart breaking into a million pieces.

He wasn't successful.

End Work of Desire, Chapter 19 by Angelise: angelise7@hotmail.com
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: The Sentinel is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount.