Author's webpage: http://www.cybercomm.net/~rhiannon/sorka.html

Author's disclaimer: All the character contained within are the property of Pet Fly productions, Bilson&DeMeo, and Paramount. I'm just having a little fun and will return them when I'm finished. If you are under the age of 18 or are offened by m/m relationships... What are you doing here?

Author's notes: This is the first in what should be three stories, not sure yet though. One warning, the ending is a bit abrupt. Hopefully I won't recieve any threats to my life for it. Jut remember, there is a sequel coming. I want to thank Stagie and EagleEye for being kind enough to beta for me. It has been a while since I've posted anything, I hope you like it.

Canary in a Coal Mine

by Sorka

Jim looked up from the copy of Tsun Tsu he was reading when he heard Blair open the door to the loft. There was a vigor and lightness to Sandburg's steps that had been subdued since they had returned from Sierra Verde. Jim was curious as to what had brought it back to full strength.

"Hey, Jim," he called happily. "Great day isn't it?"

"It seems good so far," Jim replied. He had been very cautious in how he replied to anything his partner said lately. After what had happened, he didn't trust himself not to say something hurtful.

Blair grinned and pulled out a folded envelope from his jacket pocket. "The University wants me, me, to lead a team of researchers back down to the ruins at Sierra Verde. We're going to translate the writings in the cavern and research the origins of the Sentinel legend. Can you believe it? They're going to let me earn my doctorate with this!" He paced the room excitedly as he explained how this was the perfect way to protect Jim's identity, since he could use Alex as an example of someone that 'thought' they were a sentinel. Plus using the information gleaned from the temple he could prove that the mythical guardians did indeed have their own rituals in the ancient world.

Jim plastered a look of enthused interest on his face in a desperate attempt not to show his true feelings about this news. He needn't have bothered. Sandburg was so into his explanation that he totally missed Jim's initial reaction. The detective had everything under control by the time Blair looked him in the face again. "So what do you think?" he asked.

"I think it sounds like a great opportunity," Jim replied thoughtfully, measuring his words carefully. "You deserve a chance like this after everything that's happened lately."

Blair's expression faltered a moment. "You're gonna come with me right? I mean, I would hope that you'd want to see it, you know. Without all the other... distractions."

Jim shook his head. "I've got too much work to do here. You know what our caseload has been like, and now Simon has me and Megan switching off working with Taggert..."

"Jim, come on! Don't you think it would do you some good to see the temple? Without it calling you?" Blair insisted.

"No," Jim replied with deadly seriousness. The look of confusion that spread across Blair's face was unmistakable.

"Why not?"

"Chief, you have to understand. I'm never going back there again, and I'm sorry, not even you can make me go." Blair waited for him to continue, his entire body screaming that he would drag the reason out of the sentinel if it took them all night. "That... woman... drugged me with just enough curare to paralyze me, stuck me in a tank and forced me to drink more drugs. I saw stuff that'll keep me in nightmares for the rest of my natural life, all because of these senses. Every time I get a handle on them, something happens and I'm back a square one. Plus my senses are a hell of a lot more powerful then they were before the tanks. What if I go down there and the temple wants me back?" Jim's voice cracked with barely controlled emotion. "I refuse to take that chance, Blair."

There was a long silence between them, and the tension that had been a living thing ever since Alex Barns had nearly destroyed them both was back with a vengeance. "Believe it or not, Jim, I actually understand your feelings. I was just hoping that you might want to take this journey with me."

"Blair, do you honestly think that going down there would do me any good?" Jim asked. "I've done what needed to be done, but now... now you need to go where you need to... without me." Jim's voice was flat.

"But what about your senses?" Blair asked with real concern. "You can't work alone."

"I'll keep everything down until you get back." Jim promised. "I'll contact you if I have any problems."

"I don't know about this, man, I'll be gone for at least three months, nine at the outside. You can't keep your senses bottled up for that long."

"I know, but I think... I think we need some time... away... from each other." Jim said with quiet reluctance.

"We've been walking on eggshells around each other and its not healthy." Blair admitted reluctantly. "Maybe a little time and distance could do us both a world of good."

"But you'll come back, right?" Jim asked, cursing himself when his voice cracked.

"Always, man." Blair promised solemnly.

Jim Ellison slowly rose from his bed, he winced at the harsh sounds coming from his next door neighbor. The woman in apartment 305 was beginning her morning workout routine on a squeaky treadmill, with her Hi-fi stereo blasting at the limits of human audio tolerance. Unfortunately, it was several octaves above not only Jim's tolerance but those of the stereo's speakers, which were in a constant struggle not to blow out as a Garth Brooks CD played over and over and over again.

To a person with normal hearing the loft and its adjacent apartments were virtually sound proof to the everyday noises of living. Even the sound system from Hades would have been a minor annoyance. But for Jim, whose hearing, as well as his other senses where quite exceptional, it was a nightmare.

Reluctantly, Jim headed down stairs and made himself some breakfast, or at least tried too. The only thing he had that didn't turn his stomach was the organically grown fruit that he had picked up the day before. The rest he had already thrown out. Still chewing on his last bite of apple, Jim stepped into the bathroom and contemplated the shower for a moment. He reluctantly decided that one last hot shower was worth the risk and turned on the showerhead.

He took a deep breath to ready himself, but was brought up short by the congestion that had settled in his chest. He coughed in a vain attempt to clear it. But as with everything else that had been occurring, his efforts were ineffective.

With a frustrated growl, he stepped into the shower, gritting his teeth as the spray hit his skin. He soaped himself down as quickly as was humanly possible while still removing the dirt, then rinsed off with equal haste. Jim fumbled with the controls for a second before he was able to shut off the water. Again, quickly as he could, not caring that he was dripping water onto the bathroom floor, he grabbed one of the collection of gallon jugs of distilled water that sat between the toilet and the shower.

With a sigh of relief, he poured the purified water over his entire body. It was a truly frightening feeling when the chlorine in the water that normal people use everyday was actually enough to cause a rash on his skin if he didn't remove it fast enough.

Once he stepped out of the shower, Jim leaned against the sink to stare at his reflection. He wondered if anyone at Major Crime would recognize him at the moment. Even to his own estimate, he looked rough. He had bags under his eyes from a lack of sleep that had been going on for weeks, a growth of beard that was a reaction to the shaving cream than felt like napalm against his skin, and a loss of weight that was a testament to his inability to find much of anything edible in the city limits.

Today was the last day. He could make it, he had to. Jim just hoped that Blair would be more understanding than the department had been when they had been forced to put him on indefinite medical leave.

Finally dressed in a silk shirt and a pair of linen slacks, he grabbed the bags he had packed carefully days before and left the loft. He longed to don his Jags cap, but its built in sweatband had rubbed his forehead raw the last time he'd worn it.

With one last look at the building that housed his home, he placed a letter in the mail box on the street corner, climbed into the '69 Ford pickup truck and drove away.

Blair Sandburg was practically vibrating as he waited for the door to the airliner to open. He clutched his carry-on bag spasmodically with tension as he tried hard not to rush the door. Finally they were allowed to deplane and he practically ran to the Customs line to get through it as quickly as possible.

He looked rather bedraggled, hair coming out of its tie-back, a day and a half's worth of facial hair, and a slightly bleary-eyed gaze were a testament to his total lack of sleep for the past forty-eight hours. To his surprise he was met before he got to the line by Inspector Megan Connor.

"Sandy, you look bloody awful." She said in way of greeting. Pulling out her badge, she lead Blair to an unused gate. "Come on, we have permission to skip the standard search."

"All right, Megan," Blair said once they where inside the terminal proper. "What the hell happened?"

"It's a real mess," Megan replied shaking her head as they walked. "Jim was acting a little off a few weeks back and having some problems with a cold he couldn't shake. Simon caught him on the verge of passing out in the break room and sent him home with orders to stay in bed until he was feeling better. That was the last time any of us saw him."

"No one checked up on him?" Blair nearly accused.

"Give us some credit," Megan replied sharply. "One of us called at least once a day for that first week to see how he was doing. But things got really busy and we all thought someone else had been checking up on Ellison. The next thing we know it's another two weeks, and suddenly there's this letter addressed to the Captain written by Jim."

"I can't believe Jim would just up and resign like that." Blair said with conviction. "What I don't understand is; if Jim was that bad, why didn't anyone try to contact me?"

"We tried." Megan shot back. "It's not like you were in some hotel having cocktails. I sent a letter the day Jim went on medical leave. I know Simon sent one too."

"I know, I got them a last week... Jim said I should go," Blair lowered his eyes guiltily. "It isn't often you get to be a leader in a study like that. I should never have left, not after what happened."

"No, Sandy, you can't think about 'what if' at this stage." Megan cautioned. "Besides, there is no guarantee that you would have noticed anything odd either, not until it started to get really bad."

"I would have noticed," Blair replied quietly. Megan didn't seem to have an answer to that.

They climbed into Megan's car, which was parked in the 'no parking' zone near the main doors. "Where are we going?" Blair asked, half expecting to go the precinct.

"Simon is waiting for us at the loft," she replied as she pulled into traffic. "I was in there when we searched the place and, honestly, I'm very worried about Jim."

With those words from Megan, Blair went from very worried to terrified in the blink of an eye. "What aren't you telling me, Connor."

"Look I know you two decided that a little distance was in order after what happened at the Sentinel Temple. But, in my opinion, your going with that team back down to Sierra Verde, without Jim with you, was a very bad idea." Megan took a deep breath to control her anger. "Your separation from Jim so soon after you nearly died hasn't done the man any good at all."

"Megan, you're starting to scare me." Blair looked away. "He promised me that he'd be okay."

"Sandy, I had to go to work everyday and watch a friend slowly disintegrate before my eyes, while you were off cavorting in the one place you knew Jim would never want to go back to."

"Now just a damn minute!" Blair retorted. "Jim knew he could contact me if he needed help. I made him promise that if anything started to seem strange he should write me."

"And did he?" Megan asked.

"Just one letter a week before that call from Simon on the emergency satellite phone," Blair replied. "He said he had been getting headaches, nothing too bad, but regularly. That was all. I wrote him back and gave him advice. I was gone for four months, how bad could it possibly have gotten?" The fear in his voice was easy to hear. Megan didn't answer, she simply drove to the loft, glancing at him every few minutes. Blair stared out the windows desperately wishing that the inspector would clue him in a little more.

Blair was out of the car and running into the building at 852 Prospect before Megan had a chance to put the vehicle into park. Taking the stairs two at a time, he ran full tilt for the door. He burst into apartment #307 and stopped dead five feet in from the doorway as his brain registered the sight before him.

All the furniture, what was left of it since all the lamps were missing, were covered in drop cloths, as were the stairs leading up to Jim's bedroom. Blair stepped back and flipped on the overhead light switch. He felt no surprise when it showed that the power was off. He finally noticed Simon sitting quietly at the kitchen table. "Where is he?"

"I wish I knew, Sandburg." Simon replied. "I really wish I knew."

Jim stepped out of the remote cabin and into the early morning sun that was just reaching past tops of the tall pine trees. He took a deep breath, grateful that he could feel only the gradual loosening of the deeply seated congestion that he had been dealing with for weeks. It was so quiet here, even more so than the jungles of Peru had been. The crisp cool air was also a balm to his frazzled senses. While in Cascade he had been trying to turn his senses as low as possible and wore himself out in the process. Now, while things where still all over the map, there was so little that was potentially dangerous he didn't have to fight them to do his daily routine.

The trip to this remote spot had been a long, difficult drive. Thinking back on it, Jim admitted to himself that it was a miracle that the '69 Ford hadn't blown it's engine some time during the journey. Truthfully, he doubted he would have survived a plane ride, no matter how much quicker it would have been. He had slept in the back of the truck, on the side of the road several times.

The truck's exhaust dispersed completely about an hour after he'd shut the engine off. But that didn't stop the headache that he got from it from pounding at him for most of the night. What little sleep Jim had managed was just enough to allow him drive without swerving all over the road.

As he drove further and further away from the hubs of civilization he had found his discomfort lessening. He had driven straight through the more densely populated areas no matter what time of the night he encountered them. And floored it past the high-tension electrical lines. He'd had to grit his teeth and clutch the wheel tightly to endure the nausea that the EMFs caused.

Ellison knew that Blair would tell him that it was all a matter of control, that he could master the confusing array of painful stimuli that pounded into his body every few moments. And he had tried, and tried, and tried to dial it back, to get things in check until he was exhausted, but it didn't work well enough to do any lasting good.

Jim had admitted to himself early on that he had needed some help, but the letters he had sent to Blair had either come back to him as undeliverable or were yet to be answered. He'd waited as long as he had dared, knowing that once he ran, he wouldn't be able to turn back. When he reached the small town of Tanana, Alaska over a week had gone by. Tired, hungry and nearly at the end of his endurance; not even the discomfort of the electric service in the town could keep him form doing what he needed.

The town was sparsely populated with people going about their business. Jim had no trouble finding the only real-estate agency in the town. He entered the tiny building after a polite knock.

"Hi, I'm Jim Ellison," he said, his smile a painful mask that hid his discomfort.

"Oh! Hi, I'm Helen Young," the agent smiled. She was in her mid thirties, with long brown hair than hung straight passed her shoulders. "I wasn't sure when you where coming up. The cabin is all ready for you. Just sign these papers here, and everything will be all legal."

"Thank you." Jim replied gratefully. "Is everything else I requested ready?"

"Yep, just go over to the general store, Marty has you permits and equipment ready. We don't normally send in the paperwork for hunters like that, but since your allergies are so bad we figured the quicker you can get out of here the better."

"You don't seem at all surprised," Jim said suspiciously.

"Oh, it's not unheard of. Every couple of years someone comes a-runnin' up here looking for an escape from the modern world, acting like a canary in a coal mine." She smiled and waved it away.

"Canary in a coal mine?" Jim asked, then remembered his history lessons. "Oh, right, miners used to bring canaries into the mines with them to let them know when the air went bad."

"Right," Helen nodded. "When the bird died you headed for the surface as fast as you could, otherwise you'd end up like the canary." She looked at him more closely. "Look, I know from experience that a lot of people can't hack it out there alone, they go stir crazy because its too quite and remote. There's is small HAM radio at the cabin. You need anything, especially in an emergency, call; someone will hear you."

"I doubt I'll need it, but thank you," Jim replied he turned to leave, but paused and said. "A friend of mine may be coming up eventually. He's about 5' 7", curly, shoulder length, auburn hair, and blue eyes. His name's Blair Sandburg. Could you show him the way to the cabin if he shows up?"

"No problem, Jim," she smiled and waved farewell.

Jim picked up his supplies and equipment, including a shotgun and a hunting crossbow. He put everything into the back of his pickup and headed into the wilderness. That had been two weeks ago, he couldn't help wondering what Blair would think of his actions.

Coming back to the present, Jim grabbed the axe from the equipment trunk and headed behind the cabin to split some of the seasoned logs for firewood. It wouldn't be long before the first snows hit and he would need all the firewood he could get to keep the place warm.

Blair pulled himself out of his shock, and examined the room. From the level of dust on the furniture, it was evident that this had been going on for some time. "How long has this place been like this?" Blair asked rubbing his hand along the fabric draping the couch. //Satin.//

"I honestly don't know," Simon replied. "I haven't been here in quite a while, but it couldn't have been that long. Jim was fine up until three weeks ago."

"I have to disagree with you on that score, Sir." Megan said. "Ellison was many things, but 'fine' wasn't one of them."

"Connor..." Simon warned.

"No. I'm tired of playing 'three monkeys' about this." She stated harshly. "The entire force is guilty of turning a blind eye to his misery. Originally he may have been upset about Sandy leaving, but it went way beyond that and you know it."

"All right, enough you two," Blair interrupted, seeing clearly that this was an ongoing debate between the two of them. "What happened to him to trigger this?" He waved his arms indicated the room around them.

"I don't know," Megan admitted.

"Well that's a big help, not!" Blair replied angrily.

"Maybe you have some connection between the two of you that allows you to understand what happens to Ellison, but the rest of us jerks have to guess." Megan shot back heatedly.

"Look, we've been trying to figure it out ourselves ever since he vanished." Simon broke in. "The closest thing we've been able to come up with was he started getting really bad headaches ever since the department had that face-lift."

"A what?"

"All the departments are getting face-lifts. It was the governor's husband's idea. He took a tour of HQ last year and decided that everything was too drab. So every P.D. in the state get to have the treatment." Simon recalled. "It was a royal pain in the ass. New paint job, brand new carpeting, hell, even the drop ceiling was replaced."

Blair's eyes widened. "The fumes must have been horrendous. How did you get any work done?"

"Each floor was done separately, we doubled up on space with another squad one floor down until they were done. Then we moved back upstairs once the paint was dry." Megan shook her head. "It sucked royally."

"And then?" Blair pushed.

"And then things got busy," Megan said defensively.

"A major crime wave hit," Simon continued. "I barely had time to eat and keep up with the detectives' case loads, let alone see what was going on with the people around me. The mayor was all over me to get things under control again, and Jim complaining about a headache or a head cold was the least of my worries at the time."

"Which was it?" Blair asked curiously.

"Which was what?"

"Was it a headache or a head cold?" Blair clarified, his mind quickly going over the possibilities.

"Honestly, Sandburg, I wish I could remember," Simon replied tiredly. "All I know for certain is that Jim was looking bad when I sent him home to rest, and that's the last I saw of him."

"I think it was both," Megan offered tentatively. "Not at the same time though. The headache was first, and then he came in with that nasty cough later. Does that help at all, Sandy?"

"Yeah actually, it does."' Blair smiled at her and Simon for a moment.

"I have to admit," Simon began. "I was half hoping that you would arrive with Jim walking in beside you."

Blair shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, Jim's aversion to seeing the temple again wouldn't allow him to seek me out personally. He told me himself that nothing would get him to go back down there, aside from a threat to my life."

"There isn't much that will rattle Ellison," Simon commented. "Whatever happened down there must have been pretty bad."

"Lots of things rattle him," Blair responded, sitting down at the kitchen table, folding one foot behind a chair leg. "He just rarely lets anyone see it. What he's told me, while not exactly stunning in detail, was enough to understand his wish not to stir things up again."

"He wouldn't go down to you..." Megan said. "So, where does a man with hyperactive senses go when things are out of control?"

Blair looked down at his hands, which he had clasped in front of him. "I need to find him. Who knows what he's going through right now."

"We'll declare him missing and start an investigation," Simon said quickly. "That way we can obtain his credit card and other financial information." He turned to Megan. "Connor, I'm putting you in charge, get all the information you can. Maybe Jim left a clue or two laying around."

"I'll get right on it." Megan emphatically. "Come on, Sandy, lets get to work."

Blair stood with her. "Thanks, Simon."

"For what?" Simon asked.

"For taking this seriously," Blair replied.

"That's a purely a self defense measure, Sandburg," Simon replied gruffly. "When it comes to you two, I don't have a choice. Besides, it's the least I can do for not noticing what was happening sooner."

The bullpen was full of activity when Blair arrived the next morning. ( He had crashed badly after Megan and Simon had left. Sleeping in his bedroom was strange after months of using tents and sleeping bags, but it was the hot running water that had help Blair reorient himself to life back in the modern world. ) His appearance brought a chorus voices welcoming him back. Several detectives, including Rafe, Brown and Taggert thumped him on the back or gave him bone crushing hugs.

"All right, people, back to work." Simon ordered from his office doorway. "Sandburg, Connor, my office."

"Man, Simon," Blair groused. "You really can spoil a moment."

"So sue me," The captain replied. "Connor, tell the man what you've found out."

"Yes, sir," Megan responded seriously. "Looks like Ellison was a very busy boy just before he vanished. I've found evidence that he transferred a large amount of money from his savings and paid off all his outstanding debts."

"Not that he owed that much on anything," Blair commented absently. "Aside from property taxes and insurance payments, he never liked using his credit cards for anything. I mean how many people do you know that have a zero balance on all their cards."

"How did you know that?" Megan asked. "I found that out and had them check it again, because I didn't believe it."

"I live with him, Megan," Blair replied with a smile. "Trust me, he doesn't touch those cards except when he needs to, and then he pays the total balance when the bill comes in."

"Anyway," Megan continued after considering that information. "He took $40,000 as a cashiers check. I was able to trace the money to a real-estate company with an address in, get this, Alaska."

"Alaska?" Simon stared a her in disbelief. "What the hell is he doing up there?"

"It makes sense," Blair perked up. "Depending on what part of the state you go to, you can find pristine wilderness. Just the kind of thing an overloaded Sentinel would crave."

"Well, now that we know where he's gone, what do we do about it," Megan asked.

"I'm going up there to find him," Blair replied determinedly. "Hopefully I'll be able to get him to come back."

"Why wouldn't he come back?" Simon asked in confusion and concern.

"It all depends on whether he's physically able to come home. From what you've told me, and the evidence I've seen, there may not be anything I can do except help him clean out his system. There's no telling whether his body would ever be able to withstand the pressures of a modern city again." Simon stared at Blair in horror. It was obvious the prospect of Jim not coming back had never occurred to him.

"You do whatever you have to, Sandy," Megan said. "We'll support you all the way."

"Thanks, guys. Listen, I need to do more research to find out how bad Jim is, and what started this."

"Whatever you need, Sandburg, you'll get it," Simon promised.

"I need a record of all the cases Jim's been on since I left." Blair said. "Including anything that might not have been officially his cases. Also, any pictures or videos of him would be a big help, even security camera footage would do."

"I'll get Rhonda to pull the case files," Simon said picking up the phone. "You two go down to the control room and see if they'll pull the tapes for you."

Megan stepped into the commandeered interrogation room where Blair was watching the tapes and reading the reports. Before she's left earlier that day, the pile of reports had been broken down by date and type. Those piles where now further broken down, and the pile of video tapes had been shuffled as well. "Sandy, have you been here all day?" she asked.

Blair looked up with bleary, blood-shot eyes. "Hey, Meg, you're back. Yeah, I was just going through this one pile of tapes." As he spoke he ejected the tape and grabbed another to replace it.

"Oh, no you don't." She grabbed the tape from his hand. "It's time for you to go home and get some rest. You'll wear yourself out working like this, and that won't do you or Jim any good."

"But..."

"Not a word," Connor said. "You come on, we'll get some dinner, and you can tell me what you've been able to find out."

"Okay, okay," Blair couldn't help but grin at her tiredly. "Let me just lock this room up."

Half an hour later they were in an Applebee's eating dinner. Megan couldn't help but stare at the steak and potato dinner that the anthropologist was scarfing down with gusto. Her own dinner was the bourbon steak, so she didn't really have room to comment. "So find anything useful yet?" she asked.

"Actually, yeah." Blair said, trying to chew and talk at the same time. Swallowing hard, he continued. "I found a reference to a fire at a chemical storage warehouse. Jim reported it after he was relieved at a stakeout a few months back. He'd managed to rescue a janitor that had been overcome by the smoke before the fire department arrived."

"So, your thinking that he got exposed to something at that fire, and that's where all the trouble started?" Megan ventured.

"Basically," Blair nodded. "I think, considering all the facts you've told me and what I've seen on those tapes, that Jim has become over sensitized to all kinds of man made chemicals. Each subsequent exposure to any kind of chemical just compounded the problem until he couldn't take it anymore."

"And the cure?" she pushed, hoping that the anthropologist had come up with a plan. Blair mumbled into his plate, his eyes cast down. "What was that?"

"I said, there may not be one."

"Tell me you're joking," Megan demanded.

"God, Megan, do you really think I would joke about this?" Blair pushed away his plate. "The images of Jim that I've found are frightening the hell out of me. I'm surprised that no one dragged him to the hospital. I understand that you were all busy, but what about when he went out on dates? Didn't any of them notice anything?"

"Um, Sandy, Jim hasn't been on a date since before you left." Megan looked uncomfortable. "In fact, he's reacted with either indifference or outright hostility toward anyone asking him out. I mean, everyone knows by now how he feels about you."

"About me?" Blair squeaked. "You're not suggesting that Jim is attra- ...has... feeling for me, are you?"

"Come on." Megan demanded angrily, lowering her voice when nearby patrons stared at her. "Are you totally blind? I've known since we went undercover in that neighborhood watch case. Captain Banks suspects but he doesn't want to say anything because he would be forced to take away you observer status if it became official."

As she spoke Blair became paler and paler, his eyes were as round as a twin moons, and his mouth hung open. His mind raced through every touch, every look, every gesture that the Sentinel had ever done toward him. A chill ran through his body as he realized how easily he had dismissed all of it as simple friendship. Although he had known that Jim wasn't an openly expressive person, nor was he very touch-feelly for all his tactile sensitivity. Blair had simply believed that what he was experiencing from Jim was platonic.

//Okay, so maybe I had entertained the thought of a relationship between the two of us,// Blair admitted to himself. //But the occasional late night fantasy is a far cry from taking the necessary steps to shtupp a man like James Ellison. What if Jim had said something, but I'd been too dense to figure it out? Oh, Jim...// "I didn't know."

"I can see that," Megan replied softly, wearing a sympathetic smile. "Puts things in a new perspective doesn't it?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Blair smiled back weakly. "What do I do now?"

"Well, once you find Jim, I'd say that depends on you, doesn't it?" Megan said, her expression inscrutable.

"Yeah, I guess it does," Blair replied, more to himself than to the inspector.

"So what have you got?" Captain Banks asked Sandburg and Connor several days later. He had been feeling guilty about not having noticed Jim's distress. The detective was as good a friend as he'd ever had in the department, and he hated that the younger man had been suffering in silence.

Simon prided himself on his ability to make friends with his detectives while maintaining discipline in the ranks. Jim had been one of the few major challenges, especially when the former Ranger had first transferred in from Vice. Their friendship, which had grown sporadically over the years, was one of mutual respect. He counted himself lucky that Ellison had become personable enough to accept his friendship, especially after all the personal hits that dogged the reticent detective.

That friendship had been sorely tested following the revelations concerning Jim's senses. Simon had fought tooth and nail with him over needing a civilian, a grad student in anthropology, as his partner. He had only signed off on it because he had thought that it was going to be a temporary thing. Now, years later, he thanked his lucky stars that it had been a man like Sandburg that had come to Jim's aid. Because for all his seeming flightiness, Blair was one of the most stable personalities he'd ever met.

At the same time, Jim had shown just the opposite. For all of his apparent strength and courage, there was a fragile soul underneath the clenched jaw and steely eyes. In the past few years Simon had been privy to enough of Ellison's personal demons to wonder how the man got out of bed some days, and he knew for a fact that there was more that he didn't know about. Stuff that only Sandburg had been a witness too.

That in and of itself had been worrisome, especially since Simon knew of Jim's reputation when he first joined Major Crime. Rumors of bisexuality weren't uncommon in the Vice Squad, but there were very few cops that looked like a walking advertisement for alternative lifestyles. Jim had been that, plus an attitude that just wouldn't quit. Having the young, good looking grad student hanging on Jim's every word, following him on cases and even going undercover with him was a recipe for rumor if ever there was one.

Now Simon wished that there had been more going on than was on the surface, because if Ellison and Sandburg had been intimate sexually, maybe they wouldn't have been torn apart by what happened. Maybe there wouldn't have been a conflict at all, because all their cards would have been on the table. Unfortunately, hindsight was useless and counter productive. What was important now was finding Jim.

"Captain, the good news is," Megan began. "We've got a general location of where Jim has gone. It's a town in the wilds of Alaska, called Tanana. It seems he purchased a small cabin up there in an effort to escape modern civilization."

Simon considered that information for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on the end of his cigar. "So what's the bad news?"

"The bad news is," Blair replied tiredly. "That from the way Jim took care of things down here, legally I mean, it looks like he has no intention of coming back to Cascade, ever."

"So what do you plan to do now?" Simon looked straight at Blair. While his gaze wasn't accusatory, it wasn't difficult for the grad student to grasp that the captain was fully expecting him to pull off some sort of miracle.

"Now, I have to pack my things and get the next available flight up there," he said. "I've made arrangements with the University to send all the research from the expedition to me as soon as they get back. They were actually very understanding about what happened."

"It's good to know your academia career won't suffer," Megan said. "I guess I sometimes forget that you're not a cop."

"Thanks, Meg, I'll take that as a compliment," Blair said grinning.

"Do you need any help?" Simon offered.

"I sent a message to Naomi telling her that I back was in Cascade. She hasn't called yet, and I figure she won't get my message that I'm leaving again for a while yet. If she calls the station, just tell her that I'm okay, and that I'll call her when I can." Blair sighed.

"I'll tell her, don't you worry. When you get there, tell Jim... that I'm sorry I couldn't go with you." Simon replied. "Tell him that we all miss him."

"Count on it, Simon."

After two days of commercial and charter planes and far more turbulence than he ever wanted to think about, Blair finally made it to the small town of Tanana. He climbed out of the Cesna as quickly as he could, and was not the least bit embarrassed when he fell to his knees to kiss the ground.

"Hey, come on, buddy," the pilot groused as he came around the front of the plane. "It wasn't that bad."

"Man, I've been in shoot-outs that were less dangerous than your flying," Blair complained.

"I'm hurt," the scruffy pilot replied, clutching his chest. "I've always prided myself on my ability to reserve the best turbulence for those that would most appreciate it."

"Smart ass," Blair muttered, hoisting his back pack over his shoulder.

He surveyed the airstrip and realized that they were actually just one set of buildings from the main road. He walked into the center of town and couldn't help but smile at the rustic feel of the place. Moose racks mounted on several buildings, beaten up old pickup trucks parked outside what looked like the only bar. There was a general store, a doctor's office, and even a movie rental place.

For a moment, Sandburg felt as though he had stepped into a rerun of Northern Exposure and he was supposed to be Dr. Fleischman. Fortunately, the anthropologist had been in much more rustic places than this. In fact, Tanana was down right modern compared to some of the native villages he had been to. Figuring that the one place Jim would have to go was the general store, Blair headed there first.

The door opened with a chime from the set of brass bells hanging just inside the frame. There were no other customers that could be seen, so Blair approached the woman sitting near the register. She was in her late twenties, her eyes riveted to the novel she was reading. Blair cleared his throat loudly to get her attention.

"Oh, sorry," she stammered when she realized he was standing there. "I was a little, um..." she stashed the book on her chair as she stood. "What can I do for you?"

"It's okay," Blair assured her with a smile. "I've been known to get lost in the pages of a good book from time to time. I was actually looking for someone, a friend of mine that just came up in the past few weeks."

"Does this someone have a name?" she asked suspiciously.

"Jim Ellison," Blair replied. "Tall muscular guy, short hair, receding hair line, blue eyes."

"Oh yeah, nice guy. Kinda quiet though. He's had a really bad cold ever since he got here." She said thoughtfully. "Helen over in the realty office, she can give you directions to the cabin."

"What kind of cold?" Blair asked with concern.

"Chest cold, I suggested he go to the doctor, or take something for it." She shook her head.

"I take it he declined your suggestions?" Blair inquired.

"You got it," she said. "So, you need anything?"

Blair looked around the store thoughtfully. There was a lot of things that the store sold, and any number of them could be potentially useful. Yet at the moment, Blair couldn't think of a single thing that he might need. "Not really, I'll probably be back after I see Jim."

"The realty office is three stores down." She called as Blair left.

"Thanks."

Blair entered the realty office, and the woman behind the desk smiled in a knowing way that surprised him.

"You must be Blair Sandburg. I'm Helen," She said holding out her hand.

Blair took the hand and smiled nervously. "How did you know?"

"Jim told me you might be coming," she said. "Although I wasn't too sure , since he said he didn't know when he was expecting you to arrive."

"I came up as soon as I could," Blair replied affably. "I had work I was doing."

"So are you just visiting, or are you going to cohabitate," Helen asked, then covered her mouth. "Sorry, my mouth runs away with me on occasion."

"Hey, no big deal," Blair replied waving her concern away. "I get that way on occasion too. So, tell me, since I don't have a car, and I don't exactly think that there's a cab that I could hail within two hundred miles of here; how can I get there from here?"

"Simple, you can walk the 30 miles to the cabin," She grinned at the look of consternation on Blair's face. "Or I can give you a ride up there."

"Are you sure?" Blair inquired. "I mean, I don't want to take you away during business hours."

"It's okay," Helen waved. "It's not going to cost me anything to be out of the office for a while. Besides, I can use the sunshine before winter hits."

The drive out to the cabin, which Blair found out was just inside the border of the county, was punctuated by bouncing of the truck off the ruts in the rarely used road. Blair filled the silence as he normally did, by talking.

"So, how was it that you and Jim met, Blair?" Helen asked in a conversational way.

"It was work related. I was looking for a subject for my doctorate in anthropology, Jim was willing to let me ride along with him and study him while he worked." Blair answered affably

"Really? What did he do down in Cascade?"

"He's a detective in the Major Crime division of the police department. I hope he can go back once he's feeling better."

"Are you sure you'd want to subject him to the stress of a big city again? Assuming he recovers." She asked.

"He can't hide up here forever. He's got skills that would stagnate up here." Blair replied thoughtfully. "I can't see him not doing a job he was born to do."

"You care for him a lot. It must have been hard for you to watch such a good friend suffer," Helen commented sadly.

"Yeah," Blair said non-committally. "He's always been sensitive, I guess it just caught up to him finally."

"There it is." Helen pointed as she pulled the truck over to the side of the road.

"That's Jim's truck all right," Blair said excitedly. "How far to the cabin?"

"Follow the path, it'll take you straight there. It's about a quarter mile."

Blair climber out of the truck, and grabbed his baggage from the bed. "Thanks, Helen, I really appreciate you going out of your way for me."

"No problem, just take good care of him."

"I'll do my best." He promised solemnly.

Turning away from the truck, Blair headed for the easily seen path that disappeared into the pine trees. The trail was well worn and from the look of things it had just recently been cleared.

The trees parted suddenly to reveal a small rustic looking cabin. It could have been taken from any classic western film and dropped in the clearing as a decoration. Aside from the pair of boots sitting just outside the front door, and the slowly rising smoke from the chimney, there was no indication that anyone was there.

That in itself was worrisome. Normally, Jim should have noticed someone approaching by now. "Jim, if you can hear me, I'm here." Blair swallowed nervously and climbed the steps.

"Good to see you, Sandburg," a raspy voice called from just past the right corner of the cabin.

Blair spun in surprise and froze at the sight before him. Jim Ellison was coming around the corner. His face was pale, cheeks sunken in, and his walk was somewhat unsteady, but his eyes were clear. "Jim!"

He ran to embrace his friend but was brought up short when Jim held up a forestalling hand. The sentinel leaned against the side of the cabin as he was hit by a succession of wracking coughs, which ended in a spectacularly disgusting upheaval of phlegm, which he spat out.

"Are you okay?" Blair asked, coming to his side to help support him as Jim slumped with exhaustion.

Raising his head to feel the sun on his skin with his eyes closed, Jim inhaled carefully. "Yeah, I'll be better in a minute. At least the congestion is breaking up now."

"You want to go inside for a while?"

"Yeah, I've got some stew simmering on the hearth, if you're hungry."

Blair shot Jim a concerned glance at the weakness in his voice. "Yeah, I could definitely eat something."

Several minutes later they were both seated before the warm hearth, eating a hearty stew with chunks of crusty bread on the side. The stew was quite tasty and the bread was obviously hand made. Blair was surprised by this, even though he knew that Jim was an exceptional cook when he wanted to be.

"This is a nice place," he commented idly, trying to find a way to begin. "How did you find it?"

"Amazing what you can find when you look for it. Listen, I appreciate you coming all this way, Chief," Jim said tiredly. "So lets just skip the pleasantries and come out and say what your obviously wanting to get off your chest."

Blair was taken aback by the abruptness of the statement as well as by the fatigue that was so very apparent. "You know, I damn near panicked when I got that message from Simon, and if you think acting like King of the Ass holes is going to send me packing after all the work I did to find you, you have another thing coming."

To his surprise Jim chucked, the rough hacking cough was back again almost immediately, but not as bad as before. "Sorry, Sandburg," he finally said, his bright blue eyes full of sincerity. "I guess this isn't the welcome you were expecting."

"You're right, it's not. Especially after being told I was expected," Blair replied softly taking in Jim's sickly pallor again. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I was in Cascade," Jim said, sitting up. "I'm hacking up a lung every once in a while and I'm still pretty weak. But other than that I'm in good shape."

"Well, speaking as someone that has known you for years, and hasn't seen you in months. Let me just state that, one; you look like death warmed over, and two; if this is an improvement, I don't want to know what you looked like before."

"I looked like shit on a shingle, Chief." Jim said honestly, then looked away. "I-I really missed you."

"I missed you too, Jim," Blair replied. "But I'm really confused about this whole thing."

"What's there to say?" Jim shrugged and set his bowl of stew on the table.

"How about why you didn't contact me the moment your senses started to act up?" Blair said earnestly.

"Because I knew you'd be on the next plane back home," Jim replied. "And I've screwed up your life enough already. I figured I could hold out until you got back, and I was doing okay..."

"Until the fire at the chemical storage warehouse." Blair finished for him. "Yeah, I did some digging when I got back to Cascade. And let me tell you something, you didn't do yourself any favors by hiding how miserable you were."

"I guess that means Simon didn't take my resignation too well," Jim sighed.

"Oh yeah, you could say that," Blair commented dryly. "He does guilt in a really bizarre way; all pissed off at you, all the while blaming himself for not realizing you were in trouble to begin with. I'm just lucky he didn't take it out on me like Megan did."

Jim lifted his head, his eyes wide with concern. "What did she do?"

"Reamed me a new one." Blair couldn't help but grin at the anger in Jim's face. "Although I think she was more angry about having gotten saddled with your case load than anything else."

Jim shrugged. "She's as good a detective as I am, and she doesn't have sentinel senses to deal with."

"But you are the Sentinel, protector of the great city, remember?"

"Whole lot of good that title is to a protector that can't survive inside the city limits," Jim said bitterly.

It was Blair's turn to sigh in frustration. He was amazed at how angry that resigned tone made him. "Whatever it was in the chemicals that you were exposed to caused your reactions to go off scale. You just have to get control of that part of your senses again."

"Control, heh, that's a laugh." Jim muttered.

"And another thing." Blair continued without pause. "Where did you get the idea that you are somehow responsible for the destruction of my academic career?"

Jim stared at him with a level piercing gaze that cut right through him. "Can you honestly say, after everything that has happened in the three years we've known each other, that your career in anthropology has benefitted from our association?"

"Of course it has!" Blair said instantly.

"Oh really? Name one tangible way that it has," Jim demanded standing abruptly. His emotions lending strength to his tired body. "And you can't use your research on me, since no one even knows about that."

Blair opened his mouth to answer quickly, knowing that Jim was all wrong about his assessment of their relationship, but nothing came out. He went through every year, every chance to advance in his standings at Rainier. And found only a handful of them he had been able to take advantage of because of his commitment to Jim and the Sentinel project.

In fact, Blair had missed a dozen meetings, had to reschedule lectures, grade papers on the fly, and turn down offers for and increased workload. His advisor had been on his back to show progress in his dissertation just before the fiasco with Jim reading the first chapter and the appearance of Alex Barns.

The silence between them was all the sentinel needed. "You see? You stay with me and you can just kiss your Ph.D. goodbye," Jim stated dryly. "The way things have turned out, I should have put you on that plane to Borneo myself. At least that way one of us would still have a career."

"You still have a career!" Blair insisted. "Simon has you on an extended leave of absence. He said that whenever you're ready, your badge will be waiting for you."

Jim's reaction was one of anger and silence. He sank back down into his chair and stared into the warm fire. Blair narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You think that you've ruined my career, that's why you let me go. That's why you didn't want to come with me to Peru."

"You needed to go on that expedition, Sandburg." Jim's voice was tired, his eyes never leaving the flickering flames before them. "And I..."

"And you what?" Blair asked, getting a hold of his frustration. "What was it you needed to do? You think self flagellation is part of your penance for my nearly dying?"

"You were dead!" Jim suddenly rose to his feet. "Your heart had stopped, your skin was blue, and you weren't breathing. All because of me!"

"Bullshit," Blair replied with deadly calm. "If I hadn't been studying you, I would have grabbed Alex as my dissertation subject without a second thought. In the end I would have been just as dead. Except this time there would be no merging of souls to bring me back. I would have been just one more homicide victim of a remarkable thief that stole nerve gas from the University."

Jim visibly shuddered at the thought of Blair truly dead, his energetic body slowly decaying in some cemetery. "I couldn't handle your death, it was so close... you were leaving me and all I could do was watch."

"But you came for me," Blair stood and placed his right hand on Jim's shoulder. "Which is why I can't understand why you're pushing me away now. Why, after everything that has happened, are you running?"

Jim turned to look him straight in the eye. There was something so profoundly sad in the bright blue depths, it made Blair want to pull him into his arms and comfort him. In the blink of an eye, the moment was gone, Jim's mask of indifference was back in place. "It's getting late, you'd better get your stuff inside. I'll get the extra blankets together and set up the couch to sleep on."

Blair could only stare as Jim turned and headed for the small closet near the kitchen. He shook his head sadly and headed out to get his bags. Megan was right, he could see that now. Now he had a choice. He could let Jim believe he was ignorant of those feelings or he could let Jim know that he knew. The problem with the second choice was that even after countless hours of traveling he still wasn't sure if Jim would welcome having his feelings reciprocated or if he was even capable of reciprocating at all.

The following morning, Jim woke early to take care of some minor chores he hadn't been able to finish due to Blair's unexpected arrival. He got out of bed, relieved to feel the congestion in his chest had reduced during the night. Quietly, he exited the cabin and stacked the wood he had chopped into a neat pile near the back door.

There was a pile of hardwood from which he pulled logs to split for firewood. The logs had been cut by the cabin's previous owner, had been seasoning for over a year and were now prefect for burning.

Jim could feel the colder weather begin to creep its way into the area, and he knew it was a matter of weeks, if not days, before the snows started. He'd wanted to get some more hunting in before then. But now he had to worry what his partner was going to say.

Ellison shook his head sharply. There was no time for worrying about Blair's opinion of his health, if he wanted to have fresh meat for the next few weeks, he needed to go hunting now. With that in mind, he finished stacking the wood and returned inside to gather his rifle and other gear. Blair was in the small kitchen area making cream of wheat and a fresh pot of coffee.

"Morning, Jim." Blair greeted with his usual morning bleariness. "You're up early."

"Morning, Sandburg. Well, I've got a lot of things that need to get done. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to sleep in." He headed to the mantle and took down the 30 caliber rifle, then dressed in hunting camouflage. "Listen, if you're planning to be here a while, why don't you head into town and pick up some more supplies. I've got a lot of the essentials, but I don't want to get caught short."

"Sure, man. What do we need?" Blair asked, sitting down at the small table. Inside, he honestly didn't want to leave the cabin, not after having just arrived.

"The list is right next to you," he said pointing to the small notepad. "If you see anything you might want, or need, feel free to pick it up."

After they finished breakfast, Jim grabbed his wallet from where it sat on the mantle. "Take my credit card, and get yourself a decent coat and some long johns. The weather turns cold faster up here than it does down in Cascade. I don't want you caught unprepared."

Blair's lips twitched with a smile he couldn't quite hide. "Sure, Jim, I'll go as soon as we finish breakfast. What are you going to be doing while I'm gone?"

"Hunting," Jim said matter of factly. "I've got quite a bit of preserved meat stored, but fresh meat is better for you."

Blair looked up with concern. "Are you sure your in good enough shape for that? I mean, honestly, you still look terrible."

"I feel better than I did yesterday." Jim replied. "I've felt better every day actually, but today I feel ten times better than I did yesterday morning."

"Really?" Blair looked him over and was surprised at the lessening of the dark circles under the sentinel's eyes.

"Yeah." Jim's smile was inscrutable. "Maybe it's the company." With that he headed out, not waiting for a response. The image of Blair's gaping mouth was enough to put a spring in his step.

The morning air was crisp with the promise of winter, the deciduous trees had already lost all their foliage. The dried leaves making it more difficult for even experienced hunters to move through the forest silently.

Ellison had been woods walking since he was in highschool, the rudimentary skills he'd learned back then were honed to a razor's edge in the Rangers, and refined beyond that in the jungles of Peru.

A half mile out from the cabin, he found fresh signs of game. Broken branches off a sapling, and a pile of scat that was still radiating heat directed him to a small clearing. Several caribou were grazing on the last of the green grasses. Their bodies were ladened with fat reserves that would see the herd through the rough winter months.

Jim settled down to watch them, kneeling in the tall dry grass. He slowly unslung his rifle from his back, and inserted a cartridge. Bracing the stock against his shoulder, he took careful aim at one of the bucks of the herd. His vision focused in on the buck through the rifle sights, as he turned down his hearing and squeezed the trigger.

The .30 caliber slug pierced the caribou's heart with such precision that it didn't even have time to bleat in pain before falling to the ground. The rest of the herd, startled by the rifle shot, took off into the protection of the trees.

The stillness of the forest returned, to be broken again when Jim's body decided it wanted to try to purge itself of some more mucus. Rubbing his sternum to relieve the ache that accompanied the coughing, he went to retrieve his kill.

There was something primeval about cleaning game in the wild. He enjoyed the acrid tang of the blood and innards on some primitive level that most modern humans just couldn't understand now. Technological advances had removed man so far from the struggle to survive that even the most hardened cops shied away from killing 'Bambi' when they could get meat from the local supermarket.

Blair understood, he was one of the few people that Jim had met that had gone beyond his initial revulsion at what appeared to be the cold hearted killing of a helpless animal, and saw that it was a skill, and a discipline to hunt.

Jim paused in his work as he thought more of the younger man. Blair was his partner. The man that had managed, against all odds, to pull the burned out shell of a loner that was losing his mind, back from the abyss of sensory madness. The man that had forced a soldier and veteran police officer to admit that he couldn't do it alone anymore.

That was the crux of the problem Jim thought, as he hefted his kill and started the trek back to the cabin. He could no longer be a loner, but Blair hadn't realized that in forcing that admission of dependance, he was unwittingly placing iron shackles on his own freedom.

What had started as a research project for Sandburg, was now quite possibly a life long commitment. That was what Jim longed for, to hear the words spoken clearly and spontaneously. Jim felt in his heart that he had already made the commitment, but he was fearful that voicing his feeling would force Sandburg into a corner.

One that would put too much pressure on him, forcing a statement that both of them might regret later. If Blair made a declaration to him, he wanted it to be for the right reasons. Because he wanted to, not because he felt it was required of him.

Blair whistled happily as he entered the general store. The list of items that Jim had requested wasn't extensive, and he was sure to be back at the cabin in a few hours. He waved to the clerk and searched the store gathering the items as he went. When his arms were full, he set the pile on the counter.

"Looks like you're going to be staying then," the clerk said with a grin.

"Yeah, for a while at least." Blair nodded. "Listen, I was wondering if there was any place I could find herbs around here."

"Well, if you're talking for cooking, we've got most of the common stuff." The clerk looked at him closely. "But somehow I don't think that's what you want, is it?"

"You'd be right there," Blair said his hopes sinking.

"You want to go over to Warren Dearborn's place," she said. "He's a shaman. Most of the people in these parts go to him for what ails them."

"Really?" Blair asked. "I'm surprised you don't have a medical doctor around."

"Oh, we do," she grinned. "Dr. Dearborn went to medical school before the spirits called him to service. Why don't I write down the directions while you finish up shopping."

"That would be great. Thank you, so much."

"No problem."

Twenty minutes later Blair was on the road again. The bed of the pickup filled with the supplies Jim had requested along with a few extras that Blair figured would make the time spent up here a little more comfortable.

The small dirt road was in better shape than the one that lead to Jim's cabin, but it was still littered with pot holes. He sang softly to himself to disguise that he was nervous as hell about meeting the doctor.

Dr. Dearborn's residence was a two-story cabin, which was totally unremarkable in appearance. But there was a strange feeling that squeezed Blair's chest as he stopped the truck. It felt as though he had driven through a mild electric field. His nervousness increased as he walked to the door. He hesitated before knocking, and nearly jumped out of his skin when the door opened almost immediately. The man standing before him was nearly six feet tall, the bright red hair and green eyes were a stark contrast to the Inuit features of his face.

Blair swallowed and extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Blair San-"

"Sandburg, I know. I'm Warren Dearborn. It's about time you got here," Warren said gruffly. "Come on in, I've got everything you'll need to help the sentinel."

"Wha-?" Blair stood there gaping at the open door as Dearborn walked back into the house.

"Don't just stand there letting the cold air in."

"Right..." Blair said softly. He entered the house and shut the door. The place was glowing with a mixture of soft electric lights and candles.

He composed himself quickly and found the doctor in the kitchen. "Sit down, son, while I make us some tea. We've got some things we need to discuss."

"I'm not sure I know what you're referring to." Blair replied as he sat down.

Warren sighed, throwing Blair a look that told him the guy knew he was full of it. "Listen, Sandburg, I'm a shaman, just like you. I know when things aren't in balance in the world around me, so cut the crap and just admit you're guiding a sentinel."

"I think I'll be going now," Blair stood and turned to leave, only to be stopped by a gentle touch on his arm. He turned back to see Incacha sitting where Dearborn had been moments before. He gasped and backed away hitting the kitchen counter. He looked away from the Chopec shaman to catch his balance when he looked back and Dearborn was there again, smiling sadly.

"Sorry," the doctor said sincerely. "I didn't mean to come on that strong. Usually I'm a lot more cautious with how I approach a new shaman."

"Well, I would have appreciated a bit more subtlety!" Blair clutched his chest.

"Would you?" Dearborn shook his head. "I think the spirits are done with being subtle with you."

Blair felt his gut clench with apprehension. "Listen, I don't know a lot about what it means to be a shaman. I'd like to think I've been doing a pretty good job so far, considering I haven't had any formal training."

"What have you been doing that would give you that impression?" Dearborn asked. His expression held no judgement now, he was genuinely interested in Blair's opinion of his own abilities.

Blair shifted nervously. "Well, I've always tried to help people work through their problems. I've always worked with my instincts, trying to see the truth behind a person's actions. I like to think I'm a good judge of character... Though that sometimes gets me into trouble."

He paused to let Dearborn speak, but the shaman simply motioned for him to continue. Swallowing hard, Blair continued. "I've been wanting to do more research on shamanism, but between my school work and working at the department I've had very little time."

"And working with your Sentinel, how has that been like since 'The Way' was passed to you?" Dearborn asked.

Blair blinked in confusion. "It hasn't changed much. Jim seems a bit more on edge, a bit more ready to go for the jugular, but otherwise..." The look of pure disbelief that his words elicited made him trail off and rethink his answer. "Okay... Jim was a bit unhinged when Incacha died, but he got over it."

"How?"

"How what?" Blair asked

"How did he get over it?" Blair opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He thought long and hard trying to find the right words, but he found there was nothing to say. "Well I think your prolonged silence answers my question better than anything else you could have said."

Outraged by the man's presumsion, Blair stood abruptly. "Look, man, I didn't come here for a lecture. I was hoping to find some help for a sick friend. I'm outta here."

"Mr. Sandburg," Dearborn called. Blair turned back reluctantly to see a small tin in the shaman's hand. "This is cumfrey. It's the best thing for the symptoms he has, make him drink an infusion of it every 4 hours until it's all been used."

"Thank you," Blair said as he took the tin and headed for the door.

"Oh, Blair. We will be speaking again." He promised

"Not if I can help it." Blair muttered as he left.

Blair was surprised to see Jim waiting for him at the end of the trail when he returned. "Hey, Jim, I figured you'd be still doing your Mighty Hunter impression. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Jim replied in an offhanded manor. "It's not that hard to find game around here. I've been back for about an hour."

After unloading the truck, Jim became aware of how quiet his friend was. He smelled different too, the sent of many herbs clung to Blair's clothing.

"Where'd you go besides the market?" he asked as he shut the door behind them.

"The store clerk said Dr. Dearborn had some herbal medicines. I went over to his place to pick them up." Blair pulled out the packets of herbs from his jacket.

"Should I worry about what's in there?" Jim asked.

"Relax, its just some comfrey and coltsfoot." Blair replied with a grin. "No psychedelic trips this time."

A soft grin spread across the concerned face. "I was kinda looking forward to the ride. I guess I'll have to figure out some other way to go tripping then."

Blair rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, like you'd willingly let go of that iron clad control you keep on everything."

"I would, you know," Jim replied. "With the right person willing to guide me through it."

Blair stared at him for a long moment, his mouth suddenly dry as sandpaper.

"I know you think that I'm a anal retentive, emotionally repressed, control freak, Chief. But it's not like I ever had the option of being a free spirit like you did." Jim chided gently. "When I do get the chance to loosen up, it's got to be with someone I trust or it doesn't happen."

"So you're saying that if I showed up with peyote buds, you'd be willing to chew one?" Blair asked.

"As long as it was you..." Jim grinned back. "However, I think I'd draw the line there. Anything stronger would probably be a bad thing."

"I don't know what to say to that." Blair replied honestly.

"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know that after everything that's happened between us, there is no one in my life that I trust more than you."

"But that whole thing... with the chapter of my dissertation... and Alex..." Blair moved his hands to create a large amorphous shape between them.

"Okay, Sandburg, time for some ugly truths about me, that you know already but failed to mention in that paper of yours." Jim stated crisply. "Do you really think after all that shit, that I would have even stayed on speaking terms with you if I didn't love you more than life itself."

Blair looked like he had been sucker punched. "God, Jim, how can you just say something like that without even blinking? How do you expect me to react to an admission like that?"

"Hopefully by reciprocating," Jim replied.

"Why?" Blair suddenly blurted out.

"Why, what?"

"Why is it suddenly so easy for you to say what you're feeling?" Blair demanded. "Why can't you just be the same repressed stoic person you've always been?"

Jim sighed and moved to make some coffee. The temperature outside was beginning to drop, and he had a feeling that snow wasn't far behind. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I do." Blair said, sounding rather perturbed.

"Remember that little dip in the tank I took?" Jim asked. "The one with all the visions of darkness?"

"Yeah, you said Incacha helped you," Blair replied.

"That's not what I said," Jim corrected. "I said he came when I called, but he said I had to find my own inner light to fight the darkness."

"Well, you certainly found it," Blair said crisply. "I mean, you didn't go insane or anything, like she did."

"You don't get it do you?" Jim shook his head sadly. "All of your studying, all the times you called me dense, and you don't understand at all."

"Hey! I-" the rest of Blair's reply was cut off when a strong gust of wind rattled the shutters outside. Both men quickly looked out the window and were amazed to see dark boiling clouds overhead.

"Shit, that came up faster than I thought it would." Jim muttered. "Sandburg, get the shutters while I bring in a load of firewood."

"What's going on, man?" Blair asked as he hurriedly put his jacket back on.

"The weather service reported a storm coming in just after I got back." Jim replied heading out the door. "We'll be getting the first few feet of snow tonight, maybe more tomorrow."

"A few feet?" Blair was aghast as he shouted over the increasing winds. He reached up and latched the window shutters as quickly as he could, muttering as he did so. "Why couldn't he have run away to Barbados or maybe the Galapagos Islands. Someplace warm and isolated."

"You do remember that I can hear for miles, right?" Jim called from the wood pile.

"Bite me!" Blair called back, feeling frustrated and a little frightened at the prospect of being stranded thirty miles from the nearest help. Okay, he'd had that happen before with much less habitable shelters, but this thing that seemed to be rearing it's head between Jim and himself made it harder. There was going to be nowhere to bail if things got ugly.

Not that he'd never been in the wilderness, heavens knew he's had his times of isolation. Just at the moment, with the strange, revealing conversations he was having with his best friend, there was a good chance of things going south quickly. The two room cabin afforded only the illusion of privacy for normal people, when one of them was a sentinel there was none at all.

"Come on, Sandburg, before you freeze to death out here!" Jim called carrying one more load of wood to the house. This pile he set in the wooden box on the porch.

"I'm coming already, get a grip." Blair muttered, but quickened his pace as a gust of truly cold wind hit. As Jim closed the door behind him, he couldn't help but feel as though someone had set a timer that was counting down to... something.

"So, what would you like for lunch?" Jim asks as he headed for the kitchen area. "I've got some left over stew. I could also grill up some caribou steaks, fresh off the hoof."

Shaking his head in confusion at Jim's upbeat mood, Blair said, "Whatever you want man."

Jim opted for the stew, not really wanting to delve into the new kill just yet. They sat in silence as they ate, the only sounds were the occasional pop from the roaring fire. The wind, which was really beginning to pick up steam, seemed to slam into the side of the cabin. Blair brewed some of the herbs into a tea and made Jim drink it down slowly.

"How was the expedition?" Jim asked softly.

"It was great, the government was so happy to have some positive attention for the region, that they helped arrange everything. We even had nice cabin tents to live in instead of the puptents I'm used to." Blair smiled back.

"You... um, learn anything while you were down there?" Jim asked.

Blair's smile faded a little. "Are you sure you want to know? I mean when I left you didn't want to hear the temple even mentioned."

"I know," Jim said. "I'm sorry about how I reacted, I've tried to deal with it, but I just couldn't go with you there. I do want to know what you learned."

"Okay, the first thing I learned is that the writings on the walls are actually pretty easy to translate. The potion was made of plants that are harmless by themselves but together they make a concoction that's a lot like LSD, but not as strong." Blair said, his eyes never leaving him for a moment. "However, give that to a sentinel and you might as well have given you mescalin. Knowing what I do now, I'm amazed either of you got out of there with your sanity intact."

"It was a close call, Chief," Jim admitted. "If I hadn't had you to focus on..."

"But I wasn't there," Blair said softly.

"Not physically no. But here," Jim placed his hand on his own chest. "You're always here."

Blair swallowed hard. "There was one wall in the temple that was completely covered in writings. It was a story, we're still working on the full translation, but I'm pretty sure it's the history of why the temple was built. From what we had gotten down so far, it seems there was a history of conflict in Mayan Sentinel culture. They needed a way to bring about the sensory awareness that was sometimes never fully developed in times of peace.

The tanks and potions were to enhance the senses and bring about a spiritual journey. What they also learned was that anyone with sentinel abilities that had too much darkness in their hearts were consumed by their visions. They considered it divine retribution for abusing a gift from the gods."

"What about a sentinel's partner?" Jim asked. "Did it mention anything about that?"

Surprised by the question, Blair replied. "That part wasn't quite done when I left. Something about 'one to one, hearts that bind' The rest is still being worked on."

"Not far from the truth is it." Jim smiles suddenly, one of his rare glowing smiles. "Do you believe it? What the story told, I mean."

"I-I haven't really thought about it in terms of truth, when I'm in the field it's usually all data that I gather to go over later. I just enjoy the experience until I'm done." Blair replied.

The wind howled outside, more fiercely than before, and there was the distinct sound of driven snow hitting the shutters. "Do you think that a sentinel would have to have a partner he could trust?" Jim asked.

"Well yeah," Blair swallowed hard around a mouth full of stew. "Dealing with a zone-out would almost necessitate a level of trust that was associated with only with marriage in most cultures."

"So, adding the fraise 'one to one, hearts that bind' it wouldn't be a long stretch to say that a sentinel and their partner were considered... a couple." Jim's expression was one of pure innocence.

For just a split second, Blair was tempted to say 'A couple of what?', but thought better of it. This was a most serious moment for both of them, and the outcome could very well determine their future. He knew where Jim was going, he'd known deep inside himself ever since that moment when Jim in the form of his panther spirit guide reached out for him and brought him back from death.

Blair stood suddenly, deciding that now would be a good time to make a pot of tea for himself, though at the moment, he could have really used a stiff drink. "You know if we go down that road, things will never be the same."

"They haven't been the same since I read your dissertation." Jim reminded him. "I doubt that things will improve any if we don't do something."

Blair slammed down the empty mug that he had brought over to the stove. "So your solution is to do the 'big nasty' with each other?" His voice trembled with uncertainty.

Jim closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his right hand. A soft sad chuckle erupted from his chest. "You certainly have a way with words, Chief." Standing up, he let out a raspy sigh and closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. He looked straight into Blair's eyes as he spoke. "You're deliberately making this sound tawdry, just so I'll back off. Unfortunately for you, it wont work."

Busted, Blair didn't deny anything. "Why not?"

Jim leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Because I want you, I can sense how much you want me too. I can also sense how scared shitless you are."

Blair trembled slightly as Jim's hot breath caressed his ear. "Jim... please... don't."

The heat pulled back so abruptly that Blair actually felt a draft. He was shocked to see the pain in Jim's expression, even though the protective walls were obviously trying to assert themselves.

"What the fuck is your problem, Sandburg?" Jim demanded.

"I've never done this before!" Blair shouted back. "Women I know, women, I understand. Men... it's different. You can't tell me it's not. You can't send an entire lifetime being straight and change overnight. It's not that simple."

"You're unbelievable." Jim's barking laughter rang as cold as the wind outside. "You're standing here, lying to my face. You've been with men before."

"What-? How-?" Blair paled and stepped back.

"I'm a sentinel," Jim replied with very little patients. "Sex smells, pure and simple. Straight sex and gay sex smell different. You never seemed to grasp that fact did you?"

"But... It's not what you think." Blair denied.

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Oh I see, you can sleep with women do anything you want with them and that's just fine, but so long as all you ever do is some mutual masturbation and the occasional blowjob with your buddies from Rainier you can still call yourself straight. Am I right?"

"How dare you judge me." Blair growled, covering his shock with anger.

"I've never judged you, I'm just stating the painful truth. Even when you were going steady with Samantha, you'd come home from a late night 'study session' smelling of other men's semen." Jim countered.

"Like you've ever been with a guy since I've known you." Blair said heatedly. "Mr. Poster-boy for straight America."

"You've always made a lot of assumptions about me, Sandburg." Jim smiled in a way that did nothing to reassure the other man. "You ever think that the reason that I keep my sexual experiences private, might just be because most of the time, I'm dating men?"

"But what about Lila, and Carolyn? Fuck, what about that shit with Alex? You can't tell me that was all an act."

"Three of the biggest mistakes of my life, one of which was pure Sentinel mystical mumbo jumbo that would never have happened if I had been in control of myself." Jim rubbed his temples tiredly. "I prefer men, I always have. I'm just very particular with whom I share my bed."

Blair looked away suddenly very embarrassed about how deep the level of intimacy that their argument had reached. "Well it's news to me. You never said anything about being bisexual, not ever."

"Blair, I know you think you got full disclosure about me from Carolyn when you interviewed her for your dissertation. But the whole fear of intimacy thing she told you about, while it was true to quite an extent. She left out, for my sake, the fact that I came out to her and that's why we got divorced. We stayed friends but the marriage couldn't survive afterward."

"I thought we were friends, man," Blair said softly. "But you never said anything to me."

"We are friends," Jim asserted. "You're the best friend I've ever had, but I'm also your research subject, and something somewhere had to give. When your thesis is published, there is always the chance that someone somewhere will put the pieces together. If that ever happened, I wanted to know that if I was revealed to be a sentinel, I still had my sex life private."

Blair stared at his friend stunned, yet again, by what he was saying. Not only that, he felt a stinging pain in his heart for the pain Jim was obviously going through. The 'project' had always loomed over them, tainting what was otherwise a near perfect partnership. Their were countless times that Blair's curiosity about Jim as a person was a less about research than about wanting more of a connection.

How many times had Jim deflected Blair's inquires into his past? It took a chance encounter at an equestrian race track for him to reveal that he had a younger brother. How many secrets was Jim still hiding? As if reading his mind Jim spoke in a soft voice behind him. "You ever think that maybe there were things that I was waiting to tell you until after you turned in your dissertation?"

Blair turned to look into his friends eyes, seeing only pain reflected there.

"You ever think that maybe, just maybe, I might want there to be things to tell you, secrets to share with a friend or a lover."

"Jim..." Blair began, his voice cracking with emotions. "I don't know what to do here. I care for you on several levels." He began to pace the cabin's main room. "But I don't know if I can love you. I've fallen for a lot of people, lusted after more than my share, slept with women and, okay I admit it, had sexual encounters with men. But that's a far cry from saying I love you forever."

"I know." Jim replied softly. "I'm not asking for forever. I won't tie you down like that."

Blair looked at him in confusion. "Then what is it that you want?"

"Just this time," Jim said sadly, stepping up into Blair's personal space again. "Until the storm passes. If you still don't want to be with me after that I'll let you go. No strings."

Blair stared up into his eyes, seeing the pain that this bargain was causing his friend. "You would do that? After everything you've told me about how you feel about me, you would be able to let me go?"

"I didn't say I would be happy or that it would be easy for me," Jim was practically shaking. "But I give you my word, and you and I both know that I've never reneged on a deal."

Blair looked away from him, he couldn't look into Jim's pain filled eyes a moment longer. It hurt too much, knowing that he was the cause of that torment was worse than anything he'd ever imagined. Suddenly the answer became clear to him. The truth behind his own pain, his own repression of feelings and memories.

Too many nights spent with Jim instead of going out dating. Too many memories of the partnership that he knew was closer than it should have been. Things he just chalked up to their need as friends, but were really the beginnings of a true bond between sentinel and guide.

He pictured the concept of being with Jim, this incredibly sensual, passionate man. Then thought of turning away from that after a few days, never to touch him again. Knowing that if that happened it would probably kill Jim's spirit forever.

"No." Blair said finally.

"What?" Jim backed away in confusion.

"No, I won't accept your deal. It's not fair to you and I'm done taking advantage of you." Blair stepped forward tilting his hear up slightly. "If we do this, we're doing it the right way."

Jim barked a bitter chuckle and Blair decided he was tired of hearing his friend so terribly depressed all the time. "I may not know if I'm in love with you but, I do know that I love you very much." With those words, he swallowed the lump of fear in his gut, took Jim's face in his hands and kissed him softly on the lips.

A strangled moan escaped from their sealed lips just before Jim reached out and grabbed two hand fulls of Blair's curly hair, pulling them into a tighter embrace. It felt as though they were melting into one another, the heat between them rising as their mouths caressed.

Finally they pulled apart gasping for air, Blair's lips were tingling and he knew they must be swollen. His heart was pounding hard and as he looked into Jim's stunned expression, he knew that all his protests had been lies. He did love Jim with all his heart and soul, he had just been too much of a coward to say it.

Now though, with the truth before him, he knew exactly what he wanted. He kissed Jim again, this time delving his tongue between the slightly parted lips to taste the heated depths. Jim moaned and shuddered, letting Blair control the kiss. He felt as though his entire body was on fire, and that his bones where melting away.

Jim had the sneaking suspicion that if he didn't find some way to prop himself up, he'd be on the floor as a very happy puddle of goo in a few moments. Never letting go of Blair, or lessening the pressure of their embrace, Jim backed up until he felt his ass come in contact with the oak dinning table. It was heavy enough that it didn't slide when Jim put most of his weight on it.

Blair, released his hold on Jim's face and began to trail his hand down Jim's chest, nimble fingers began to work on the buttons of Jim's flannel shirt quickly exposing his pale, well muscles flesh.

Their lips parted and Blair began a slow exploration of Jim's neck, licking and sucking the taught skin as he pulled off the shirt that was hampering his explorations. Blair pressed into Jim, feeling a rock hard erection trapped in the confines of Jim's jeans. With a knowing grin he reached down to cup the bulging crotch as he sucked Jim's right nipple.

After so very long, nearly six months, without sexual physical contact with anyone other than his own hands, Jim couldn't control his reaction. After a few gentle strokes, he threw his head back and cried out as he came in his pants.

Blair felt the wet spot spread across the front of his lover's jeans and smiled thoughtfully. "That was something there Jim," his voice soft and teasing. "Are you always that quick off the mark?"

"Just shoot me now, dying from humiliation is a horrible way to go," Jim said as he fell back to lay across the table.

Blair pulled him to his feet and guided him into the bedroom. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I find it rather flattering actually." He pushed his lover onto the queen-sized bed and slowly traced a pattern across Jim's nearly hairless chest, tweaking his nipples as he went.

Jim gasped at the sensation, his still tingling body becoming somewhat interested. "But you barely even touched me."

"Well... there is always a bell curve when it comes to learning your partner's limits." Blair grinned as he unbuttoned the front of Jim's pants. "We just have to learn what you can take, and how often."

"This isn't a test, Chief." Jim groaned, still feeling like a limp noodle, trying to work up some indignation. Which was hard to do when the object of his fondest and hottest dreams reached into his jeans and began to stroke him expertly.

"No it's not, but I think I've suddenly developed an addiction to seeing you come." Blair opened his own pants and pulled them down past his hips, exposing his erect cock.

Jim watched with fascination as Blair aligned their cocks together and began to stroke them with one hand. He reached up to caress Blair's cheek softly with his right hand.

With a wanton smile, Blair grasped Jim's hand and brought it down to whap both their hands around the two throbbing members. "That's it Jim, show me what you like. Teach me how to love you."

Jim arched up involuntary finally touching Blair cock, panting like a racehorse as he felt himself approaching orgasm for the second time in less than ten minutes. "You don't need lessons. You're a natural at this."

Blair stared in amazement as Jim shuddered and gasped under his touch. His own need was growing steadily, as they stroked their cocks together, but he had always had enormous staying power.

"Oh god, Blair! I'm losing it again!" Jim gasped arching up again as his cock sprayed semen out onto his and Blair's hands and groins.

After what felt like hours, but it was really only a few minutes, Jim raised himself up and motioned for Blair to let him up. Looking down at Blair's rock hard erection poking out of his jeans, Jim grabbed him by the waist and rolled him over so that he was on the bottom.

He stood and shucked off his clothes quickly, smiling when Blair followed his lead. Once they where both naked he gently pushed Blair into a sitting position at the head of the bed, then he knelt down between his legs and spread them wide. Blair squeaked in surprise as Jim took his impressive cock into his mouth and began to suck on it gently.

The suction increased slowly and Jim licked and sucked Blair's cock like no one had ever done before. His hands where busy too, roaming over Blair's body pinching his nipples into hard buds, then rolling his balls gently. Blair watched between half lidded eyes, as his best friend, turned lover, went down on him. The handsome, but often stern visage was transformed into an expression of total bliss.

The moment those blue eyes looked up at him, Blair lost it completely. He grabbed the back of Jim's head and thrust twice as deeply as he could, coming hard, screaming his lover's name. Jim took it all, swallowing quickly and repeatedly, so as to not lose any of his lover's essence. Finally he release Blair with a soft kiss to the tip of his now shrinking erection. "That was beautiful Blair. Thank you."

Panting for breath Blair reached out and pulled Jim up onto the his chest. Together they snuggled down into the blankets and held each other in a comforting embrace. "Jim..." Blair began.

"Shhh, we'll talk in a little while. I just want to hold you."

"Okay, it can wait."

Blair woke the next morning with the realization that he warm, naked, snuggled into someone's back, and had a morning hard-on which was very happily nestled between someone's ass cheeks.

The memories of the previous night came flooding back as he ran his hand along Jim's muscular shoulder.

"Morning, Blair," Jim said softly as he rolled to face him.

"Morning, Jim." Blair smiled at the sleep mussed hair and sleepy expression on his partner. He reached out and trailed his fingers through the incredibly soft, short brown hair.

Jim sighed softly, his eyes closing with pleasure. "Does this mean we're okay?"

Smiling Blair leaned forward and kissed Jim's forehead. "Yeah, we're okay. Better than I ever imagined, in fact."

"Really?" Blair almost gasped when Jim opened his eyes again, there was such depth of emotion all of which was center on hope and doubt that it nearly broke his heart.

"I don't know how to describe it," Blair replied. "I feel... content. That's something I've never felt after sleeping with someone."

Jim reached up and gently pulled Blair's hand away from his hair and kissed the palm with gentle passion. "I've never known such happiness as I did the moment I woke to feeling you beside me. I've wanted you for so long."

Blair sat up and stared down at his lover for a long moment, taking in Jim's healthy complection and clear voice. "What happened to you? Not that I'm complaining, but you look about a hundred times better than you did last night."

Jim lay back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. He debated on what to tell his lover for only a second, realizing that Blair would accept nothing less than the truth. "Have you ever wanted something so bad that it physically hurt, ever wanted someone you knew you could never have?"

"A few times, I've felt like I was going to die from wanting." Blair admitted. "Like when Maya left the first time."

"Think of that feeling, then combine it with the fact that the thing you wanted was within arms length every day." Jim rubbed his eyes. "Then just when you think you might have the courage to ask for it, have it taken away." Jim dropped his arms to his sides. "A normal man might have been able to deal with the loss. But my senses... they kept looking for you.

"My sensitivity kept getting higher and higher, except when I was consciously fighting to keep them down to normal levels. After the chemical plant fire, everything in Cascade hurt, even the low levels of chlorine in the water burned my skin."

"And one night with me...?"

"One beautiful night with, perhaps, the promise of many nights to come."

Blair settled back into the bed, he could hear the wind still whipping the snow outside. "As many nights as you'll have me. For the rest of my life." He promised wrapping his arms around Jim's larger frame.

"I love you, Blair." Jim smiled into his curly hair.

"There's something I need to know, Jim." Blair looked up into his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Do you want to stay here, in Alaska, or can I convince you to come back down to Cascade with me?"

"I resigned, I don't have a job down there anymore." Jim reminded him.

"Simon has you on an extended leave, sighting personal problems as the reason. Everyone wants you to go back."

"Even you?"

Blair nodded. "Being a cop may not be the safest job in the world but, it is the closest thing to what Sentinels did in the traditional tribal setting."

"We won't be able to get into town for at least a week but, I'll think about it." Jim promised.

"That's all I'm asking for." Blair replied, content for the moment to slide back into sleep. He'd had no idea when he came up to this wilderness that he would end up in bad with his best friend, but if he had to do it all over again, he doubted there would be anything he would change.

Getting Jim to return to Washington state might take some talking, but he was nothing if not persuasive. The thought of Jim not being a cop was unthinkable. He stopped that line of thought and examined it. Did he really think that returning to Cascade was the right thing to do or was he simply wishing for the return to what he concidered their normal life? No, he wouldn't force Jim to return to being a cop, especially if Jim didn't want to anymore, but he would try to convince him of the merits of it.

For now though, this was all he cared about. Learning to be with the man that he cared for more than anything in the world. With that last thought, Blair slipped back into a peaceful sleep.

The End

Sequel to come