Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters belong to Paramount, Pet Fly and you-know-who. No copyright infringement is intended. This is an amateur piece of fan fiction. Be gentle, you lawyers.

Author's notes: Thanks to Rosie for the fabulous beta and the unique way of pointing out the mistakes. It actually worked!

Rating: A gentle "R", J/B, a little h/c, the rest is complete mush.

For Leila, who asked for some gentleness. Voil!

The Powers of Nature
by DannyD

Two naked bodies. Illuminated by the dim light the bathroom bulb provided, their erotic dance began.

Have you ever longed to make love to your best friend? To your same-gender best friend? Oh, God, I don't believe I'm following this train of thought. I don't want to have these thoughts. It's ridiculous. I'm a cop. Blair's my partner and my best friend. We're buddies, not lovers. I know about the rumors anticipating otherwise. We live together, we spend most of our spare time together, we get in trouble together. Does that necessarily mean we also have to sleep together? Well, some people might think so, but not anyone who knows Blair's reaction to women. Or maybe this is what happens to you when you always have him at your side. Friendship turns into affection, affection becomes love. Sounds like a bad chain reaction to me.

On the other hand, I really like him. Blair's great, cool, energetic, amicable and gorgeous. Gorgeous? Wait a minute! When did 'gorgeous' jump onto the bandwagon? He is NOT gorgeous. Attractive, I give you that, cute too. Cute? Come on, Ellison! 'Cute' also isn't a word you should associate with your lover, darn!, friend.

Why am I shivering then when he touches me? It surges through me like an electric current, starting in my arm, racing through my body and ending up in my... well, there. This is nuts! I'm not hot for him. I'm not, I'm a guy, a cop and a Sentinel.

Fuck! The Sentinel thing. Maybe it's my senses again, going haywire, zoning on his herbal shampoo or aftershave. There must be some strange destiny playing tricks on me. Did this Burton character ever mention in his book that Sentinel and Guide have to fuck each other?

What if I enjoy it? And he doesn't? Or... does?

Blair Sandburg sighed deeply as he stumbled backwards and landed into the soft grass. The volleyball made its way over the net, only barely, then dropped like lead on the other side. Lying on the lawn and enjoying the warmth of the high July sun, the anthropologist sighed again. Watching his partner and roommate was truly a sight on such a hot day. Muscles made of steel fought for each point, jumping, twitching - a gorgeous power play of flesh and tanned skin. The blue tank shirt competed with the incredible piercing blue of Jim's eyes, the smile so stunning it made his legs buckle. Blair was happy to sit in the grass, surrounded by flowers, his legs spread lazily. The freshly mowed lawn tickled his thighs. Tugging at his denim shorts, Blair feigned exhaustion to watch the intoxicating game that had nothing to do with volleyball.

Jim stretched himself for another point, throwing his body up in the air and scoring with the strength of a winner. His long legs were as muscled as his powerful arms, and Sandburg imagined how it would feel to have those legs wrapped around his body. Strong and yet gentle, groins joined, rocking in the motion of love.

Blair let himself fall backwards with a deep sigh.

"Come on, Sandburg, get your lazy butt up here," Jim shouted, watching in amusement as his roommate lay sprawled out on the lawn. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Hey, Simon," Jim called out when Sandburg just smiled and didn't move. "Did you bring ice-cubes?"

"Sure thing, Jim," came the reply from the other side of the net. "They're in the cooler."

Ice-cubes? It took a moment for Blair's at other times sharp brain to make the connection. He bolted upright, swatting at a bug that had started to crawl up his thigh. "Don't you dare, Jim!" Blair warned, scrambling to his feet. Suddenly he gasped at the sharp stinging pain in his inner thigh.

"See? He lives!" Jim announced laughingly and took the ball, letting it fly over the net.

Blair winced a little as he walked slowly back to the volleyball field. The spot on the inside of his thigh began to hurt.

"Watch out, Chief!" Jim shouted as Simon returned the ball forcefully.

Ignoring the burning pain, Blair surged forward to greet the ball. He heaved it across the net, catching an approving smile from Jim. Oh boy, the man could smile, Blair thought, watching as the steel muscles worked in sync with Jim's movements. Absent-mindedly, the anthropologist rubbed the sore spot on his leg, flinching at the discomfort his touch caused.

By the time they got home, Blair's thigh throbbed with each step he took. They'd lost the volleyball game, much to Simon's and Daryl's delight, but Blair wasn't in the mood to return the good-natured teasing. When Jim promised revenge, he'd just nodded, hoping to get home. A cold shower felt like a beautiful idea, maybe it would extinguish the fire in his thigh.

"...we'll never hear the end of it," Jim finished and closed the door behind them. "What do you want for dinner, Chief? We could order something," he suggested.

Blair shrugged. "Nothing for me, man. I'll just take a shower and go to bed. I'm beat." He shuffled to his room, trying hard to avoid limping.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked from the kitchen.

"Just tired, Jim," Blair replied truthfully. He collected a set of fresh clothes from his room and vanished into the bathroom.

"Want some ice-tea?" the detective called after him.

"Sure," Blair said in a low voice.

In the kitchen, Jim frowned. Blair might be tired but his behavior indicated something else than just exhausted. Preparing their beverages, Jim dialed up his hearing a little. It might be bordering on a violation of privacy, but the detective wanted to know if there was anything wrong with his younger friend. If he had hurt himself during the game, pulled a muscle or something, maybe he could help.

Jim sighed. Horny devil, he scolded himself. You'll do everything to see him naked, huh? Startled by the thought, Jim busied himself with ice-tea, opening the freezer door to retrieve some ice.

"oh, fuck..!" The exclamation was low, almost inaudible, and accompanied by a sharp intake of breath.

"Sandburg?" Ceasing his motions, Jim listened. "You okay?"

"It's nothing, Jim," came the muffled reply, worrying the detective more than a confession of blood and broken bones. Blair seemed to downplay whatever discomfort he was suffering. Didn't want him to know, to see... to help.

Jim swallowed. He couldn't stand the mere thought of his partner hurting. Listening to the sounds of quiet distress coming from the bathroom, Jim slowly walked over to the closed door. He knocked carefully. "Chief? You sure you're okay in there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Jim," Blair reassured from inside.

Jim hesitated. As much as he wanted to help if anything was wrong, he didn't want to intrude on his friend's privacy. What the...? Since when did privacy stop you from helping? Why are you tiptoeing around knowing he's probably hurting?

"Can I help?"

"I'm sorry," Blair's voice sounded defeated.

The Sentinel frowned again. "Sorry for what, Chief?" he asked, his hand already on the door knob. When no answer came, he turned the knob slightly. "May I come in?"

"You're almost in," Blair sighed.

Jim deciphered that as a yes and opened the bathroom door. "Chief?"

Blair sat in his boxers on the edge of the bathtub, an expression of total misery on his face. "Sorry, man," he repeated.

Entering the bathroom, Jim smiled reassuringly. Whatever it was, Blair seemed to be pretty upset about it. "What's with the apology, Chief?" he asked gently as he sat down on the closed toilet lid.

Blair shook his head. "I don't... want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I guess I need your help."

"What are you talking about?" Jim inquired, while cataloguing Blair's condition. There didn't seem to be any life-threatening injuries, thank God.

Another sigh accompanied Blair's next words. "It's nothing actually, just... I guess I got stung by a bee or bug or something... and it hurts and looks kinda ugly." He gestured towards his lower body, hanging his head in shame.

Jim wanted to laugh out loud in relief. Seeing Blair's blushing face though, he just nodded. "Let me see it?" he asked, moving to kneel in front of the tub.

"I'm sorry," Blair said for the umpteenth time and slowly moved his hands away.

"It's okay, Chief, there's nothing to be sorry about, you hear me?" Jim said. He looked at Blair's legs and soon discovered an angry red spot on the inner left thigh. It traveled up the thigh and the center of it was still hidden by the boxers Blair wore. As Jim touched the rim of the boxers' leg, Blair flinched.

"Does it hurt?" Jim asked worriedly. At Blair's silent head shake, he said, "I guess it'll be better if you lie down in your room and I come with the heavy artillery." He winked, trying to lighten Blair's mood.

"Okay." Blair slowly stood up. As he left the bathroom, he didn't make the effort to hide his limping.

"I'm right behind you," Jim said, opening the medical cabinet to obtain some supplies.

Blair's room was the usual clutter of books, artifacts and loosely scattered notes. The anthropologist stretched out on his bed, listening to the sounds of his older friend. Soon Jim appeared in the door frame, hands full of first-aid equipment.

"Why don't you take these off, Chief? It might be easier for both of us," Jim suggested smiling. To his surprise Blair blushed again but followed the instruction and took off his boxers.

Jim sat down on the edge of the bed. He tried hard not to look at Blair's exposed genitals. After all, his friend was in pain and needed his help. No time for arousing thoughts. Still, the sight of Blair's cock, vulnerable and at the same time powerful, made Jim's body temperature rise. Then his gaze fell on the red area where the bug had stung and he swallowed. Close to the point where thigh met groin, the spot was swollen.

"Do you have any idea what it was, Chief?" Jim asked, gently touching Blair's thigh and urging him to spread his legs a little.

"I've no idea," Blair said, his eyes closed. He couldn't look at Jim and his tender ministrations. He couldn't stand the thought of Jim touching him there, as close to a lover's touch as it could be. "A bug. I swatted at it and that's when it stung."

Jim focused on the offended area. "Looks like a bee. The sting's still inside." He leaned closer, ignoring the invitation of Blair's penis so close and yet so far away.

"Can you get it out?" Blair took a deep breath as the callused fingers probed the hurting area.

Reaching for the tweezers, Jim took hold of Blair's thigh with his left hand, his arm brushing against Blair's flaccid organ. "Take it easy now, Chief," Jim soothed, his sight enhancing and guiding the instrument.

Blair hissed. "Easy for you to say," he murmured.

Grasping the sting carefully, Jim increased his hold on the leg and pulled. A tremor vibrated under his hand and he felt Blair's muscles tense. Then it was done. With disgust Jim viewed the dark sting and placed it on the nightstand. "That was the hard part, Chief," Jim said, retrieving a tube of ointment.

"Everything feels so hot and heavy down there," Blair complained. He sucked in another breath as Jim began to massage a cooling gel into the inflamed skin of his thigh.

"It swelled up pretty good," Jim nodded. His hand roamed over the thigh, moving to the groin area and back. "How does it feel now?" he asked, continuing the massage.

"Nice and cool," Blair mumbled, enjoying the sensation that took the burning away. Jim's fingers worked expertly making him wonder how it would feel to get a full-body massage. They were so gentle, so careful not to inflict additional pain. So Jim-like.

The Sentinel spread another glob of gel on his hand and worked it into the tender flesh. "The swelling should go down soon," he said, kneading a little bit firmer. I love touching you there, Chief, Jim thought, lingering longer than necessary on each spot.

"You'd make a great masseur," Blair sighed, spreading his legs wider to give him more room. Jim's fingers felt great. Slick with the cooling gel, they effortlessly slid over his flesh. Blair opened his eyes and looked down at himself, observing the journey Jim's fingers took. Jim's hands... close to his cock... touching him... caressing him... giving comfort and soothing his pain. Like a good friend like him would do.

Like a lover...

Much to his shock, Blair watched as his cock started to twitch ever so slightly. And even as his mind tried to shut down, his cock slowly rose to attention, emphasizing his sensual thoughts.

Maybe a frustrated exclamation would've been appropriate to disguise the obvious. An "oh, shit, what's with that?" or a "It's not what you think, Jim" would've probably saved the situation, would've saved his neck. However, Blair threw his head back with a sigh, his cheeks beet-red with embarrassment. "Sorry, man," he whispered, closing his eyes, afraid to see Jim's reaction. "I can't...," he trailed off, his mind numbly searching for words while his cock spoke a distinct language.

Jim's reaction came as expected. His callused fingertips tenderly brushed over the underside of Blair's cock, urging the organ to full attention. What the...?

Blair's eyes popped open in surprise! His glance locked on the fingers that caressed the sensitive flesh, stroking up and down gently. Watching the hand, knowing it was Jim's hand, his cock swelled proudly. Blair's gaze traveled upwards.

Jim's face, Jim's eyes, Jim's smile.

"Jim?" he croaked breathlessly, his mind still not completely comprehending what was happening. "What's--, I mean, what's... what are you--" Blair trailed off as coherent words wouldn't come to mind.

"What am I doing?" Jim helped, and still smiled that smile that melted icebergs. "What does it feel like?" he teased gently, continuing the loving ministrations.

Blair gasped at the sensation, his eyes growing impossibly larger. "I never thought...," he began, shaking his head and looking at his partner with awe in his eyes.

Jim never stopped the caress but increased his motions in sync with Blair's rapid breathing. "It's a long story, Chief," he admitted.

"L-ong story?" Blair arched his back a little to meet Jim's expert touch.

The Sentinel nodded. "About four years old.." he confessed.

"Oh man," Blair breathed, closing his eyes.

Without losing contact on the precious organ, Jim bent forward until he was face to face with Blair. "Chief?" As Blair's eyes opened again slowly, he found that Jim's features hadn't lost their gentleness. However, his voice was firm, questioning, "Are you okay with this?"

Blair chuckled. "I've never been better, big guy." He reached out to pull Jim closer. When their lips almost met, he whispered, "I've dreamed of this." To stress the truth behind his words, Blair tentatively placed a kiss on Jim's lips. Nothing more than a peck, a brush of lips on lips, but it caused both man to moan at their first contact.

"Tastes good," Jim murmured, enjoying the flavor of Blair's mouth.

"Dinner's ready," Blair smiled as Jim moved to return the kiss.

"What about dessert?" Jim asked after their lips had met a second time. His blue eyes glistened seductively.

"All you can eat," Blair moaned passionately.

"Sounds good to me," Jim said huskily and descended on Blair's mouth again. For the first time his tongue probed inside, carefully entering the unexplored territory. Meeting its mate, the kiss deepened.

Two naked bodies. Illuminated by the dim light the bathroom bulb provided, their erotic dance began. Remembering his thoughts, Jim smiled.

The End.
"to"
I think it should be "had", or maybe "did", if you use the last one, change "jumped" to "jump"
"word"
"dropped"
Delete
"His"
I think you mean "sharp"
Good one! But I think you mean "violation" "the center"
"the head" or "his head", or better yet, you could just say "head shake" Comma not needed
"Chief? It"
Comma after
Either "the tight met the groin" or just "tight met groin", oh and a comma after "groin" "increased"
??? I'm not sure what you mean, "precious" maybe? Consider formatting the thoughts in italics, there's only a few throughout, those that are in first person.

End The Powers of Nature by DannyD: danny@dextersworld.de

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.