A Christmas Miracle

by Sioux99

Sentinel and Guide meet up with another Police Officer whilst on holiday who guesses at Jim's secret.

Overview

A Christmas Miracle

By Sioux

Disclaimer: PetFly and Pearsons own a number of the characters in this story, the rest of them are mine, all mine!

Rating: M

Setting: This is a crossover story between The Sentinel and a couple of characters from The Bill, a few years after they left Sunhill.

For those of you unfamiliar with The Sentinel; - A Sentinel was a tribal watchman chosen because of a genetic advantage; he has all five senses enhanced. The phenomenon is still occasionally found in modern man. The Sentinel usually had a Guide who could help him with his senses and who watched his back. The Sentinel and Guide also have a pair of spirit animal guides, the jaguar for the Sentinel and a wolf for the Guide. James Joseph Ellison is a Sentinel, watched over by his Guide, Blair Sandburg. Both are now detectives in the Cascade Police Force.

Feedback: Always welcome at

Slowly Jim turned to look at his partner. Blair was oblivious to him, checking the ingredients of one can of beans against another. He knew Blair was checking for E numbers and artificial flavourings, just one of the many things he did automatically to keep his Sentinel on an even keel. A small smile tugged at the corner of Jim's mouth. The younger man tried so hard to keep him safe at all times so much so Jim often wondered how he had landed with the title of Blessed Protector. His gentle partner had even aced the police academy course so he could become his official partner and could continue to watch his back.

Blair replaced one of the cans of beans and picked up three more of the other brand. So, we're on the organic beans again, Jim thought to himself, reading the label from seventy five feet away with no problems. The supermarket was quiet at this time of night, and it was the only time either of them had found to do some much needed food shopping after the hellacious ten days they'd endured.

As he waited for his partner to return to him Jim turned back to the shopping trolley and loaded in two six packs of imported beer. Rather expensive imported beer, but, what the hell, they deserved a little downtime. The fact it was the stuff his partner adored had nothing to do with it, he told himself. He heard Blair's footsteps stop in front of another shelf. Cautiously he juggled the tins of beans into the crook of his arm and picked up a glass jar.

"Whoa, that better be for you, Junior," Jim muttered under his breath, watching the delighted grin spread over Blair's face as he contemplated the jar of harrisa. Almost as if he had heard Jim, Blair looked up and grinned triumphantly. He loved his spicy food but he never force fed Jim with any of it, knowing it was usually too much for him to cope with. The smile blossomed on Jim's face, then faded quickly as his hearing picked up an altercation at the cash desk at the front of the store. Blair's head turned towards the disturbance. A young man was arguing with the cashier, gesturing wildly. Jim's sensitive nose twitched, the guy was flying on crystal by the smell of him. And they could both recognise a two eleven in progress. Quietly Blair put down the tins of beans, but incongruously kept hold of the jar of harrisa, then crept forward towards the man.

Jim closing the distance between them even more quickly. The two men walked quietly and carefully down each side of the food aisle leaving manoeuvring space between them.

The young woman cashier was crying as she stuffed money into a grocery bag, the kid waving the gun around her face and moving from foot to foot muttering to himself. Blair was drawing slightly ahead of Jim. Jim could feel his own heart rate begin to sky rocket. He wanted to call out to Blair, to warn him, to stop him, but the words couldn't get past his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to shout but feeling paralysed.

The woman stopped, momentarily, in her progress on filling the bag, but it was all the gunman needed. He turned quickly drawing a bead on Sandburg. Jim could see the tendons and muscles in the punk's hand begin to shorten as he prepared to fire on his unarmed partner.

"Hey!" he yelled at the top of his voice waving his arms about.

The punk obliged, turning to point the gun at Jim. The gun looked like a cannon from his angle. He stared, mesmerised, for a second before suddenly his arms were full of Blair; Blair who was jerking around like a mad marionette to the same rhythm as the dull roar of a gun being fired without a pause. A burning pain in Jim's shoulder made him gasp as he grabbed his partner and turned them, lowering them both to the ground, his larger body protecting that of the smaller man. Time seemed to stand still. He heard the door open at the front of the store as the kid with the gun took off with the bag of money.

Jim tried to keep his full body weight off Blair whilst keeping his head down at the same time. Sandburg's heartbeat seemed odd somehow, it wasn't beating as fast as it should have been, under the circumstances. He risked a look, instantly taking in bloodstained lips and teeth and a glassy, unfocussed gaze.

"Chief?"

Sandburg's violet blue eyes met his.

"Jim?" he whispered, a wet cough forcing itself out along with a little spray of blood. "You OK man? You're bleeding."

A hand touched his shoulder, which immediately began aching.

"Sorry. Should have moved faster," Sandburg muttered, almost caressing the blood stain on his jacket.

"Chief? Sandburg! Where are you hit?"

Ellison looked down and saw a small bloodstain spreading over the usual layers of flannel. That wasn't enough to cause that level of respiratory distress he could hear. He looked back at his partner's face. Sandburg's eyelids had begun to droop.

"Sandburg, you stay with me, you hear? Call nine one one!" he yelled at the shocked cashier.

In the few seconds it had taken him to look at the cashier then back to Sandburg a pool of blood had spread around his shoulders on the floor.

"Shit!" Jim swore, turning Sandburg.

The back of his shirts were soaked in his blood. Jim balanced Sandburg on his side whilst he took off his own light jacket and his sweater. Bundling both up he pushed them between Sandburg's t-shirt and his skin then rolled him back, letting the pressure of his body hold them against the bleeding gunshot wounds.

"Blair! Blair, can you hear me? Blair!"

Wearily Sandburg opened his eyes. He lifted his hand to touch Jim's face, leaving smears of cooling blood, livid across his skin. Weakly his carmined lips moved knowing Jim would hear him.

"Love you," he mimed.

Jim started to panic. 'Love you' shouldn't sound like 'goodbye'.

"I love you too, you know that," Jim whispered.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Sandburg's face, then his arm dropped away from Jim's face as his eyes closed.

"Sandburg! Chief!" Ellison shouted, picking up the bleeding, broken body and cradling it to his chest, pressing as hard as he could against the wounds.

He heard the wet sounds of air moving too slowly into damaged lungs and he could hear Blair's heart falter, the beat erratic as it tried to compensate for the physical insult it had just received. That beloved heartbeat which kept him grounded. It was the first thing he always remembered when coming out of a zone, it was the one sound which could keep him anchored when he extended his senses, and now it was racing, then slowing and missing beats altogether as the injury took it's toll.

"No," Jim sobbed into the blood stained flannel. "No! Blaaaaiiiiirrr!" Ellison screamed at the top of his voice.

"Jim! Jim man, come on, wake up!"

Ellison's eyes snapped open, confusion evident. He could hear his Guide's voice, feel his hands on his arms, hear his heartbeat, a little elevated but stable.

"Jim, come on. It's a nightmare, that's all, a nightmare."

Blair shook his partner, trying to break him out of his terror, his hands slipping on the other man's sweat.

"Chief?" Ellison gasped out.

"It's alright, Jim. I'm right here. I'm OK."

Ellison knew that last part was a lie. He could readily hear the difference in his heartbeat.

Blair took Jim's hand and laid it on his own chest, letting the Sentinel feel the sound as well as hear it. He didn't have to be told what the nightmare was about, he already knew.

He had survived being shot in the back three times, but he couldn't really remember a lot about it. His heart had stopped seven times altogether. The last time, the cardio-thoracic surgeons had deliberately stopped it letting a heart lung machine take over whilst they repaired the damage.

Jim, on the other hand, remembered everything in full Technicolor detail. After Jim had heard Sandburg's heart fall completely silent in the hospital he had zoned for the next fifteen hours. Simon had despaired of ever getting his best detective back again. During that time, surgeons had removed the bullet from Jim's shoulder. Put him on an IV to replace the blood he'd lost and started him on antibiotics. But still his vitals had continued to drop.

At a loss, all they could do was watch as Ellison's body slowly began to shut down.

It was only when the surgeon's restarted Blair's heart that the beloved sound brought Jim out of his long zone. Even when Sandburg had drowned in the fountain, Jim had managed to stay anchored. Anchored enough to bring Sandburg back. But not this time. This time Jim had followed his Guide, his body beginning a slow process of decline which would have ultimately let him join Sandburg in death. His mind had already leapt ahead and started the roll.

Seeing his Guide shot and listening to his heart failing, knowing he could do nothing to arrest the damage had left Jim prey to harrowing nightmares.

Nightmares where he relived the incident over and over again.

Jim took a deep breath, slowly exhaling through his mouth.

"Sorry Chief, didn't mean to wake you. Did I yell?"

"Not really."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," Blair replied briskly, getting up from the side of Ellison's bed. He fetched a towel from their tiny en-suite bathroom and filled a glass with water, bringing both back to Jim. He put the glass down on the night stand and gave the towel to Jim to wipe away his fear sweat.

"Were you awake?" he asked taking a large gulp of water.

"Yeah," Blair replied softly.

Jim touched his partner's hand, which was cold.

"Have you taken your meds?"

Blair nodded. Jim finished wiping himself down then scooted over in his bed and turned the duvet back.

"As long as you don't mind the sweat, hop in."

A look of deep seated sadness flashed through Blair's eyes then he grinned and gratefully huddled under the covers.

Since his injury he had had difficulty keeping warm at night. Jim pulled him close trying to share as much of his body heat as possible but keeping things platonic at the same time. He thought he could smell pheromones wafting around, not sure if they were from Sandburg or himself but he couldn't, literally couldn't, take that final step. For once Sandburg hadn't talked it to death and Ellison would never bring up the subject so they continued to dance around each other. Intellectually he could understand anyone, male or female, finding Sandburg attractive. He was a handsome man, a little on the thin side at the moment, but still very good looking and with a fantastic personality to boot. Intellectual understanding was not a problem. Emotional understanding was not a problem, it was the mechanics where he became unstuck. If Jim declared himself then Sandburg, being Sandburg would expect some physical proof of his love. Therein lay the rub, his body refused to cooperate, although to be fair, it wasn't just Sandburg, it wouldn't cooperate with anyone. Jim hadn't managed a straight forward morning glory since Blair had been shot almost eight months ago.

Jim was first awake the next morning. For a few minutes he enjoyed holding Blair in his arms. This morning, like all the others for the past few months, was no exception. Complete absence of early morning hard-on, although he was enjoying holding Sandburg; he always liked touching his partner, there wasn't the slightest sign of his body reacting sexually to him.

In a lot of ways it would be easier if he and Sandburg did become lovers, it was about the only thing they hadn't done together; but Jim's body would not let him make that final move. So, if deep and abiding brotherly love was all he could offer, then offer it in abundance he would.

Quietly he got out of bed and went to shower. He let Sandburg sleep on. Sandburg needed his rest these days and it hadn't helped that Jim had had another of his nightmares during the night either. By the time Sandburg had surfaced Jim was washed, shaved and dressed, looking out of the window over the rooftops of York.

"'Time is it?" asked a sleepy voice.

"A quarter after ten."

"Missed breakfast again."

"You'll need your appetite for later."

"Why? What's going on later?" Blair asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

For answer Ellison threw a small coloured brochure at him.

Sandburg blinked his eyes a couple of times then reached out onto the shared nightstand for his glasses.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Thought you'd love it Chief. Traditional dish of old England and all that."

"This is Wonderburger, in a different form."

"Live a little Chief, we're on vacation."

"We could do a little further detour, and go down into Bradford."

"Not another curry!"

"I like curry!"

"I know. Make sure you leave the bathroom window open this time will you?"

"So, how did you enjoy your fish, fries and peas?"

Blair fastened his seatbelt and lay back, patting his stomach.

"Chips man, they're called chips over here. And it's mushy peas."

"Whatever."

"Best I've ever tasted. How come they taste so much better here?"

Jim grinned and kept quiet. He'd detected the taste of beef in the cooking fat.

"Still want to go for that curry?"

"No way. Couldn't eat another thing. But thanks for the offer."

"You OK to head up to the cottage?"

"Fine by me," Blair replied, smiling.

Within ten minutes Blair was asleep, his head lolling with the motion of the car as Jim expertly navigated them into a part of he world he knew Blair had wanted to revisit for a long time.

The wide road narrowed down as they travelled north and the short English winter's day drew to a close. Further on it became even more narrow.

"You sure this is the right way Chief, this isn't wide enough for two cars to pass."

"I know, but there are passing places every so often. You want me to drive?"

Ellison ignored the question, intent on reading a sign looming up in the gathering darkness.

"How far?" Blair asked, grinning, almost able to read the Sentinel's mind.

"Two and a half miles."

"Jim relax, this valley road has been used for at least five hundred years."

"They weren't driving Land Rover's along this road five hundred years ago, Chief," Jim replied dryly.

Still smiling Blair lifted his eyes to the night sky. With so few streetlights, he could see so many stars in the indigo sky. It reminded him of the times he'd been camping with Jim. Abruptly he felt homesick. No, not homesick he corrected himself, timesick. Back then he could physically keep up with Jim. They both kept themselves in good shape to cope with the demands of being police officers. Those days were very probably gone for Blair. It was unlikely he would ever be medically fit enough to go back on active duty. The thought saddened and worried him. Without his Guide to watch over him, Ellison was likely to very quickly become unfit for active duty too. A desk job would not go down well with him. Heaving a sigh he decided not to continue thinking along those lines.

"You OK Chief?" Jim asked quietly, touching his shoulder.

"Yeah, fine!" Sandburg replied with a flash of a smile. "I'm OK, I'm warm enough." He knew Jim had checked his temperature with the casual touch.

Ellison smiled and continued driving.

Entering the tiny village was a sudden business. One second they were just passing the first house for a couple of miles then suddenly Jim was signalling left to pull into the road in front of a row of holiday houses. He drove to the far end, Blair handed him the booking documents, then he hopped out, leaving the engine running. Waiting until Jim had entered the office and shut the door, Blair wound down the window. The purr of the engine was low and soft and didn't disturb the sounds of early evening. It was so quiet here, even more so than he remembered.

Blair congratulated himself on his choice of venue. This place was perfect. It was quiet enough to benefit Jim, who most definitely needed the time to relax and unwind from a very, very stressful year. The continuing nightmares were evidence of that much.

Squinting though the trees towering over a stone wall on the other side of the road he could just about make out the outline of Buckden House. One or two lights shone from the top storey, and all the way along the ground floor. He grinned to himself as he remembered the three months he had spent there with his mother when he was a little boy. It had been winter then too. He and Naomi had loved the eccentric house. Together they had explored the house along with three other children who were also part of the group staying there. As they had ascended the house, the staircases became narrower and narrower, whilst the doorways to the rooms became smaller and narrower, until, by the time they were in the attic, they could only climb the stairs in single file and only six year old Blair was small enough to walk upright through the doorways into the normal sized bedrooms.

A sound drew his attention away from the house back along the road. A group of people in track suits were pounding they way along the road. A man at the back suddenly shouted,

"Right, now sprint back to the centre!"

The group pace immediately increased, the man at the back shouting at them,

"Keep moving!"

Jim returning to the car distracted him, so he didn't see where they went.

"Apparently our cottage is at the top of the village, Chief." He handed Blair a photocopied drawing of a map. "We take the first right just after the pub, drive to the top of the street, turn left through an archway and that's the parking area for the cottages. Ours is number three."

"OK."

Jim pulled smoothly out of the road, signalling left, back onto what passed for the main road. A few yards along they over took the runners. All of them were wearing the same track suits, Blair noticed.

"Hmmph!" Jim grunted.

"What?"

"Police training school," he elaborated, gesturing with his head.

Blair turned in his seat to see the group entering the large gate. The runners were police cadets.

"You think we should introduce ourselves, professional courtesy and all that?"

"Yeah, but not tonight. Is this the right street?"

Blair switched his torch on and shone it on the little map.

"Yeah, this is it."

Still Jim didn't look convinced. Blair continued to read the photocopied map.

"According to this if we drive on and round the corner, we can get to the cottage that way as well."

Jim released the brake and drove slowly along. Both men silently noted a small post office cum general store on the corner, with a tea shop at the back. Jim signalled right. There was a large National Park car park on their left and yet another tea shop on the right.

"They like their tea around here," Jim muttered.

"Tourism, that and farming are about the only ways to make a living in places like this."

Carefully Jim drove up the silent and totally dark street, the headlights illuminating the grey stone houses, and the odd flash of reflective green as a cat got smartly out of their way. Blair was very glad Jim was driving. Ahead, Jim easily picked out the archway and drove smoothly through. He parked the large vehicle right outside the door of number three.

"Do you want to open up and get some lights on? I'll get the stuff out of the back."

Handing Blair the keys and not giving him time to object Jim jumped out and went around to the back of the car.

He could head Blair fumbling with the keys a little, using his torch to find the keyhole. Jim unerringly picked out the heavy box of groceries they'd purchased at a supermarket in the market town further down the dale. He blinked and dialled back his sight as lights illuminated the courtyard when Blair found the light switch inside. He hefted the box and took it into the cottage. Heat met him at the door. Good, he though the heating was on. Blair needed heat these days. He spied the small kitchen and dumped the box on the worktop.

"You want to start putting the food away, I'll bring the bags." Again he didn't give Blair time to reply before he had ducked out of the cottage. He grabbed their cases and the bags, locked the car and brought all of them into the lounge area.

"Biiig problem here!" Blair called.

"What is it?"

"No coffee machine!" Blair wailed.

Jim cruelly laughed as he ruffled Sandburg's hair.

"What a catastrophe! How will you survive six weeks without a decent cup of coffee?"

"That's it," Sandburg declared, "We're going back to Skipton tomorrow, we're going shopping!"

"Take it easy, Junior," Ellison replied spying a coffee pot on the very top of the wall mounted cupboards. He reached long arms out to grab the prize. "You'd better hope there are some filters around here."

Sandburg was way ahead of him and feverishly searching through drawers and cupboards. A beatific smile announced that he'd found his treasure, a packet of unopened coffee filters pushed behind the bread bin.

Ellison grinned and left him to the domestic chores whilst he took care of the luggage. He put Sandburg's gear in the bedroom just off the lounge. It had its own en-suite wet room and was a very nicely appointed bedroom with a double bed, although a bit on the cool side. He turned up the radiator and pulled the curtains across to keep the heat in, not even realising what he was doing. He ran upstairs with his own case and bag and dumped it on a bed in the twin room at the top of the stairs. He didn't have an en-suite bathroom but the second bathroom was only a few steps down the hall, so no great hardship.

Descending the stairs he took stock of the lounge/dining room. A bit too flowery for either of them, but it was clean and well maintained, they could live with it. A television and video rested in the corner of the room, a couple of easy chairs and a sofa grouped around the fireplace. A basket of logs to one side and a coal scuttle, which needed filling, on the other side. A drop leaf dining table, currently pushed against the wall, with its accompanying chairs along the wall. It looked like a doctor's office, Jim thought to himself as he grabbed the coal scuttle and went outside, letting his nose find the coal bunker for him.

Returning, he shut and locked the outer door then firmly shut the inner door, hung his coat and proceeded with making up the fire.

"You hungry, big guy?"

"Yeah, I could eat," Jim replied continuing with building the fire.

He nipped into the en-suite of Blair's room to wash his hands, rather than disturb Blair in the kitchen. Military training to the fore, he unpacked his partner's case, shaking out and putting clothes away, and toiletries in the wet room then went and took care of his own clothing by which point mouth watering smells were drifting upstairs towards him. Stir fry, unless he was mistaken, chicken marinating in ginger, honey and a little chilli, vegetables being chopped and rice boiling in a pan.

"You want a beer?" Jim asked, opening the small refrigerator. "Where is it?" he asked, taking in the sight of well packed food but no beer.

"I put it outside in the porch, not enough room in there."

Jim went and fetched two bottles. Opening the first he started to pour it into a glass. The scent of the beer foaming into the glass tickled his sense of smell. It was the same brand of beer he had put in the trolley just before….. before……. His hand started to shake slightly, rattling the neck of the bottle against the rim. He took a deep breath and put the half full glass and bottle down near Blair.

"Thanks man," Blair said, not looking up from finely chopping spring onions. He hadn't noticed anything over all the other sounds in the kitchen.

Ellison settled for drinking his out of the bottle.

They shared a companionable evening lazing and chatting in front of the open fire, played an extremely silly game of slides and chutes, which went by the name snakes and ladders in England then played three hands of poker before they realised the pack of cards lacked a queen of diamonds and a four of hearts. Blair decided to read the paper for a while before bed whilst Jim switched on the television to catch the late night news. Settling in opposite corners of the sofa, Blair nearest the glowing fire, they went on with their own amusements.

After a few minutes the rustle of paper stopped. Ellison glanced across at his companion. Sandburg's glasses were sliding down his nose as he drowsed over the paper. Deftly, with an ease born of long practise he plucked the reading glasses from his face and folded them, placing them out of harms way on the mantelpiece.

The news programme forgotten Ellison studied Sandburg. The lamps in the room lit him kindly. He looked almost as he had before the shooting, still a little on the thin side, but, relaxed in sleep, his cheeks didn't appear to be as sunken, even to Ellison's unforgiving sentinel sight. This long holiday had definitely been a very good idea. After nearly eight months of recovery and physiotherapy Blair was starting to look like his old self. His energy levels were still down and he did still have times when too much physical exertion left him in need of a lot of rest, but that was starting to improve too.

Now all he needed to do was to get therapy himself to kill the nightmares he still had about losing his partner, Guide and best friend. A rather taller order. Ellison smiled wryly to himself as he padded to the kitchen for a glass of water for Sandburg. It was time for his last meds of the day.

The smell of coffee woke Ellison as the sun was clearing the horizon. It was a beautiful winter's day; clear blue skies, bright sunshine and crisp, clean air. He jumped out of bed and into his running gear. After all the pigging out the day before he decided he'd better get some exercise in.

"Morning Chief," he said jauntily hanging over the barely awake man and taking his cup of coffee out of his hands, downing the scalding brew in a couple of mouthfuls.

"Hey!" A pause. "Where are you going?" Sandburg asked, taking in the exercise outfit.

"Thought I'd go for a run. You're up early."

"Thought I'd look around the village. We need some more milk."

"I can get milk on the way back."

"Jim, I think I can manage fifty yards without help."

Ellison held his hands up in surrender.

"Come on, you can walk down to the little store with me," Sandburg said, reaching for his jacket.

At the small post office they parted company. Ellison did a few warm up exercises in the car park, which, at this hour was pretty empty. He eyed the track up the hill he was intending to run up, judging the gradient. Part of his mind heard Sandburg conclude his business in the store and start back along the narrow street to the cottage. Unable to stem his curiosity he was reading one of the three newspapers as he went. Ellison grinned and opened the five barred gate to the track.

Sandburg strolled back along the street, engrossed in the news. The sound of a car behind him hardly registered, but he moved to the edge of the uneven grass verge anyway. A car coming the other way, far too quickly for the narrowness of the street, caused the first vehicle to swerve. The verge was wet with melting hoar frost, with the sudden movement Sandburg lost his footing and fell heavily against the first car. Less than a third of the way up the track Ellison heard the sudden spike in Sandburg's heartbeat. Moving without conscious thought he ran back down, jumped the fence, across the car park and into the field at the other side. Within seconds he was vaulting the wall onto the street. The driver of the first vehicle had exited his car and was helping Sandburg up. Jim got hold of the man and slammed him hard against his own car, he had an impression of dark brown eyes and brown hair before he turned him, intending to twist his arm into an arrest position. He ignored Sandburg shouting his name intent on making a citizen's arrest on this moron who had apparently tried to run his partner down. The arm twist didn't go quite to plan as the other man reversed the hold in a way which told Ellison he was familiar with the procedure. Then Ellison noticed the black uniform jacket with silver markings.

"You're a cop?" Ellison asked.

Angrily the other man pulled his arm away.

"Inspector Gilmore. And you are?" he asked coldly, flashing his warrant card.

Ellison ignored the question turning instead to check on his partner.

"Detective Sandburg, this is my partner, Detective Ellison," Blair replied for Jim, brushing down the legs of his jeans.

"Chief, you OK? Did this idiot hit you with the car?"

Inspector Gilmore drew himself up to his full height and bristled at Ellison. Before he could open his mouth Sandburg replied,

"No Jim. Some idiot came the other way too fast. I just slipped and fell against Craig's car."

"Fell? Are you OK? Where does it hurt?" Jim asked anxiously, patting down his partner quickly.

Gilmore's eyes narrowed at this display. At first when Sandburg had introduced them as 'partners' he'd assumed working partners, now he wasn't so sure.

"Stop fussing Jim, I'm OK," Blair said, fending the other man off.

"Your hip's bruised," Ellison announced, his large hand resting lightly over Sandburg's jean and jacket covered left hip. He could easily feel the temperature difference as ruptured capillaries leaked blood to the skin surface.

"It's alright, it's just a bruise."

"Do you need medical attention?" Inspector Gilmore asked quickly. "We have trained medics at the training school."

"I'm a trained medic," Ellison growled.

Craig Gilmore received the unmistakable impression he'd just been, not so subtly, warned off.

Instead of answering Sandburg put his hand on Ellison's forearm.

"I'm fine Jim, stop worrying."

To Gilmore's intense surprise the touch acted like soothing syrup; the big Detective began to visibly calm down. Carefully he assisted his partner from the grass verge and onto the street in front of Gilmore's car.

"Are you sure you're alright Mr Sandburg?" Gilmore asked, braving the wrath of his Neanderthal protector.

Sandburg smiled brightly up at him, making Craig's heart beat a little faster.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm on meds which make me bruise easily."

"Blood thinners?" Gilmore asked.

Sandburg nodded.

Ellison's cold blue eyes narrowed as he heard the brief surge in heart rate although the man's face didn't betray anything.

A warning tightening of Sandburg's hand around his arm brought him back.

Gilmore was fishing in his jacket pocket then produced a small box with business cards.

"If you need anything, this is where you can find me."

The card stated the address of the police training school at the bottom of the village. Sandburg grinned.

"Well, we were intending to come and see you anyway today, to introduce ourselves, sort of a professional courtesy. We only arrived last night."

Gilmore smiled down at Sandburg, his face immediately looking younger and happier.

"Sorry the meeting was a little precipitous," he replied kindly looking down at the friendly trusting face and big blue eyes. He felt an immediate attraction to the young American detective; he was definitely pinging his gaydar.

Ellison's nose twitched at the unmistakable whiff of pheromones; this Gilmore character was lusting after his Guide!

The hand on his arm tightened even further.

Ellison returned to the conversation realising that Blair had just made arrangements for them to meet up with Gilmore after he finished work.

The hand tightened to the point of pain.

Taking a deep breath he tried to ignore the primal Sentinel which had taken offence at Gilmore sexually noticing his Guide. Jim, the police officer and modern man made a valiant come back attempt.

"Umm, yes, that would be good," he said, hoping he was replying to the right part of the conversation.

By the way Sandburg beamed up at him it looked like he'd said the right thing.

"Which pub?" Ellison asked.

Gilmore smirked getting into his car.

"There's only one pub in this village, the Buck Inn. Opposite the police training school, which you'll have passed on the way in."

Sandburg and Ellison stood back as Craig drove away.

Craig watched through his rear view mirror as Ellison slung a companionable arm around Sandburg's shoulders, turned him around and guided him back to the cottage. Definitely partners in every sense of the word Craig thought to himself. What a pity, Craig mused, he would have liked to get to know Sandburg a lot better.

As soon as Sandburg got inside the pub Ellison knew they would be spending a lot of time there. It was the quintessential English pub. Open fires, long wooden bar in the tap room, wooden beams and the smell of various beers mixing with the smell of food from the restaurant at the back of the building. Some patrons were eating their food in the lounge area and the blackboard menus were prominently placed. Despite having eaten earlier Jim was nearly salivating at the descriptions of 'locally caught trout' and 'local game in the game pie'. Even Sandburg was reading intently.

"Sounds like a great place to check out one evening, Jim."

"Mmmm."

"Ah, you're here," a friendly voice greeted them, bringing in a dash of cool air.

Gilmore turned to a smaller, older man at his side.

"This is Tony Edwards, he's an instructor at the training school. This is Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg."

The men shook hands.

"My shout, what are you having?" Gilmore asked.

Ellison turned his attention to the bar and the bewildering array of beers on tap. Sandburg took the path of least resistance.

"What do you recommend, Craig?" he asked.

"Dave keeps a very good cellar here. They're all good beers but I do like the Pendle Witch."

"I'll have a pint of Pendle Witch."

"I'll join you," Jim added.

Friendly nods and a few quiet,

"'ow do?" followed Craig to the bar, making it clear that he was known in the pub by the regular patrons.

Sandburg thought Craig Gilmore looked even better out of uniform. The dark blue shirt he was wearing emphasised his dark eyes even more.

As the evening drew on Edwards and Ellison, discovering a shared background in the armed services naturally gravitated into conversation together which left Gilmore and Sandburg to do the same. Not that Craig found this to be any hardship, Sandburg was very good company and the interest with which he listened made him feel like the only man in the room. It felt like minutes instead of hours when Dave, the landlord, was calling time.

Ellison was finishing off his last pint when he overheard Blair setting up what sounded like a swimming lesson.

"Thought you could swim already, Chief?"

"Physiotherapy exercises. Craig says there's a pool near the holiday cottages we can use."

Swimming was perfect for Blair, low impact but gave him a good workout.

"Eileen and Harold are very good about letting the cadets use the pool out of hours," Edwards volunteered.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning around seven then," Craig said, smiling down at Blair and buttoning up his coat.

"Look forward to it," Blair replied.

Outside it was pitch dark, streetlights being very few and far between. Ellison and Sandburg set off along the road.

"Jim, Blair, didn't you bring a torch?" Gilmore shouted after them.

"It's OK Craig, Jim eats a lot of carrots," Blair shouted back.

Gilmore grinned and turned to follow Edwards out of the circle of light cast by the courtesy light on the front of the pub. After a few steps he stopped and watched. Ellison was guiding Sandburg who was obviously having difficulty seeing where he was going, Ellison, however, showed no such problems, his stride was confident. Craig watched until they rounded the corner and were lost to sight. Stumbling a little himself, Craig started to walk back to his private rooms in the training school, his maglight throwing a circle of brightness ahead of him. How the hell was Ellison finding his way around the village in the pitch dark? Granted it wasn't a very big village but to two Americans who had only just arrived? He remembered his own difficulties before it had become second nature to him to carry a small torch around in his pocket. Maybe Blair's explanation was true, perhaps Ellison did eat a lot of carrots!

Six fifty am found Blair and Jim, with swimming gear, heading down towards the training school. The morning was another cold day, not as crisp as the day before. A light mist covering the fields, close to the ground.

"Morning," Craig greeted them cheerfully as he met them at the door to the swimming pool entrance.

"Hi Craig," Blair replied.

Jim nodded and smiled. He still didn't like the fact the other man was enamoured with Blair, but he seemed to make Blair happy, and that was all that counted in Jim's book. It would be a different matter if he ever hurt Blair, though.

Craig ushered them through the door saying,

"Changing rooms are down there on your left. Lockers are at the end."

Neither Jim nor Blair took long changing but Craig was still there before them, just putting his clothes in a locker.

He smiled, discreetly checking out Blair and his partner, and pointed towards a second door, next to the one where they'd entered. Blair was through first, sploshing through the foot shower then he emerged onto the poolside and stopped dead, Ellison bumping into him.

"Chief!"

"Oh wow!" Blair breathed, not moving.

Ellison looked up and was rendered completely speechless. Craig smiled at them both.

The whole of the left, back and top part of the right hand walls of the pool area were glass, giving a panoramic view of the hills and the valley until it curved out of sight further down the dale.

"Spectacular, isn't it?" Craig asked.

"That is truly amazing," Blair replied unable to stop looking at the view. The sun was just beginning to make its way over the horizon, outlining the hilltops in rosy gold and reds. Jim was staring at the sight, completely lost in the marvellous colours he alone could discern. Blair turned to speak to Jim and noticed the zone-out. Unobtrusively stroking his hand against Jim's, he continued to talk until Jim came out of his zone. Craig looked at Ellison a little oddly, as he was blocking the doorway, but didn't say anything.

Edwards was already in the pool, and appeared to have completed his workout. He welcomed the three newcomers, swimming to the shallow end where a flight of wide shallow steps descended into the water.

"Good morning," Tony said, gesturing for Blair to get into the pool.

"Catch you later, Chief," Jim said, patting him on the back and heading up towards the far end, Craig beside him. The sight of the two scantily clad, broad, muscular men walking away momentarily distracted Blair then he concentrated on starting his work-out.

Ellison kept his partner monitored even as he matched Gilmore lap for lap of the pool. At the end of an hour he knew Blair was tiring. Tony obviously knew that too as he started Blair on some cool down exercises.

For the next few days their routine was settled, physio in the morning in the pool for Blair whilst Jim and Craig swam dozens of lengths, chatting about every subject under the sun. Jim found Craig to be interesting and entertaining company. Craig was very open about his sexuality but he certainly didn't conform to the cartoon image of a gay man. He was passionate about rugby, loved hiking and sports. Very much a man's man, who just happened to find other men sexually attractive. For once, Jim couldn't fault Sandburg's taste. Every time Craig looked at Sandburg Jim caught a noseful of pheromones. Blair seemed to be flattered but also wary. Each time Craig smiled at him he'd cast an almost apologetic look at Jim before smiling back.

Jim liked Craig but he didn't volunteer the fact that he and Sandburg weren't a couple in the sexual sense. If Sandburg wanted to do something about Craig's interest, he had never been backward at coming forward in the past.

During the rest of the day the two men would travel around various counties, seeing the sights and doing the touristy bit.

On Thursday morning Craig asked them if they would like to have dinner with him at his place on Friday evening.

"It's the last day here for these guys on Thursday," he explained, indicating a few cadets who were taking advantage of the swimming pool. "Friday is the start of my three days off before the new lot start on Monday."

Although he very pointedly included Jim in the invitation, Jim was about to turn him down when Blair said,

"That's great Craig, we'd love to!"

Jim turned a surprised face to his partner before agreeing, in response to a subtle pinch to the back of his thigh.

Craig smiled happily.

"Good, I'll see you about seven thirty then."

Later on, when they were walking back to their cottage Jim said,

"Chief, I don't mind having dinner on my own, you know."

"What?"

"Friday. You can have dinner with Craig."

"He invited us both."

"Yeah, but he's really interested in only one of us."

Blair felt his face heat up.

"Hey Chief, I'm fine with that. Is that why you've been looking worried whenever he smiles at you? You think I'd mind?"

"It just feels, a bit, you know, uncomfortable. In front of you."

"Why? I've been fine about the other guys you've dated. Why would Craig be any different? It's not like it's going to be long-term." Jim stopped. "Is it?"

"No! No, of course not," Blair replied hanging his coat up just inside the door of their cottage.

Jim turned his partner around, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"Sandburg, I just want you to be happy. God knows, you deserve it."

Sandburg felt his eyes sting a little at Ellison's words.

"Thanks man," he replied quietly before turning away.

Jim frowned not really understanding why his heartfelt wish for Sandburg's happiness had made his partner sad.

"Sandburg?"

He stopped in the doorway of his room.

"You don't seem to be enthusiastic."

Sandburg sighed deeply.

"What's wrong? I thought you liked him?"

"It's not Craig, it's me."

"Go on."

"This is embarrassing!"

"How can you be embarrassed with me? I've fed you, cleaned you and even helped you in the can!"

"I know, but still…."

"Sandburg, you're killing me here."

"I can't….," he took a deep breath. "You know. I can't. With anyone."

Ellison frowned at the cryptic utterances.

"You can't what?"

"You know."

"No, I don't know."

Sandburg closed his eyes and sighed.

"I can't get it up!" he said quickly.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, oh! If I get close to Craig he's going to expect a bit more than a peck on the cheek at the end of the night."

"Did you tell the doctor?"

He nodded. "He said it's probably a combination of the trauma and also some of my meds have that as one of their side-effects."

"When did you last…."

Sandburg gave him a sideways look. Your room mate asking the last time you got an erection was definitely out there on the list of weird conversations.

"Before I got shot."

Ellison was about to add, without thinking, 'Yeah, me too!' but stopped himself in time. He didn't have the excuse of medication although nearly losing his Guide and partner certainly came under the heading of major trauma. Then he shrugged.

"So, explain the situation to him. If he doesn't want to know, then he's a jerk."

Sandburg laughed.

"What? Tell him beforehand. He's bound to notice at some point if things don't go according to plan," Ellison explained, sounding like the epitome of reason.

"And what do I do then?"

Jim winked at him, saying,

You're a resourceful man Sandburg, I'm sure you'll think of something. Do you want a coffee before we go out?"

Dinner was a great evening. Craig, unsurprisingly, was a good cook and excellent host. He'd also invited Tony Edwards to dinner making sure Jim didn't feel, in the least, like a spare part. The evening broke up in the early hours of the morning. Dave returning to his own rooms, whilst Jim guided Sandburg back to their own place, unaware that Craig was watching him, as far as he could, navigate in the very cold, near pitch dark. He shook his head in amazement. Ellison must have incredible eyesight.

After sleeping late the next day Sandburg only ventured out to buy newspapers then returned to curl up in front of the fire and read. Jim went for a run, meeting up with Craig on his way back. After completing their cool down exercises Jim invited Craig back for a coffee.

"Hey Jim! The Messiah is on next week. How do you feel about going to see it? Oh, hi Craig. Do you want to come too?"

"Hi Blair. Where is it on?" Craig asked, shutting the door behind him.

"Halifax. I was trying to find out how far it is from here?"

"It's a couple of hours away, South of the county." Craig paused, then added, "Not too far from Bradford." He knew all about Blair's addiction to British curry.

"Great!"

Jim groaned under his breath as he busied himself making coffee.

"Well, if you want to make a day of it, I know a great little place in Bradford. It was one of the first curry houses to open in the sixties. Could have lunch there. Have you been to the museum of photography?"

"No," Ellison replied. Despite the word museum being in there, it did sound interesting.

"If you're interested we could have a look around then head over to Halifax."

"Sounds fantastic, I'll book the tickets," Blair replied, almost bouncing his way over to the telephone.

The following week they set off through a cold and frosty morning to drive down the dale into the more industrialised area of the county. Much of the old industry of the area had gone, moved to countries with lower labour costs, but the cotton mills survived. Some refurbished into apartment buildings, others into offices and light industrial units. The centre of the city was surprisingly pleasant. Pedestrian walkways, general city shops with some genuinely different little places mixed in amongst the big names.

Craig asked if they minded waiting whilst he paid a visit to a very small shop at the edge of the city.

Jim smelt the spices well before they got to the shop window and sneezed.

"You OK?" Sandburg asked.

"Yeah, just the spices," Ellison replied without thinking.

"How did you know I was going to a spice shop?" Craig asked.

"I can smell them, they're strong."

Craig pointed to the shop. "We're twenty five yards away."

"Sensitive nose," Ellison replied, straight faced, whilst Sandburg tried to choke down his laughter.

"Don't tell me, the carrots help that too?" Gilmore asked.

Sandburg just nodded.

Gilmore was more than curious but let it drop. He didn't want to ruin the day out.

Mrs Patel's shop was just about big enough to take all three men.

"Mr Gilmore. How are you?" The tiny Asian woman asked. Her appearance was Asian but her accent was pure Yorkshire.

"I'm well. And you Mrs Patel?"

"Oh I'm fine."

"This is Jim and Blair, American police officers visiting us in England."

"Hallo, pleased to meet you."

Jim and Blair returned her friendly greeting.

"Now, what can I do for you?" she asked Craig.

Then the serious business started.

"I'd like a rogan josh please."

"For how many people?"

"Four. And can you make it on the hot side please."

"Certainly."

She picked up a foil container and began to spoon various spices and seeds into the container from open jars and dishes spread out behind the counter. Lastly, before putting the cardboard lid on, she wrote 'Rogan Josh – Spicy', then a few instructions on frying the spices, on the cardboard.

"So that's how you do it!" Sandburg said.

Jim still looked confused.

"Mrs Patel measures out all the spice ingredients for the curry, then you go home and make it up according to the instructions."

"And it's perfect every time," Craig finished.

Sandburg laughed. "What a wonderful way of getting an authentic tasting curry every time."

Leaving the small shop with Craig's purchases, they strolled back to the car and put them in the boot before following the tall Welshman's directions to a car park in the city centre. A few minutes later they arrived in front of the café/restaurant.

Ellison hadn't seen many places like this one. It looked like two houses had been knocked into one. Blair had seen similar on his travels and his taste buds tingled. This promised to be an eating experience.

And it was. No alcohol, only water or soft drinks were served inside. And the place was full. Business people, students, manual workers, office workers the whole cross section of society. The most expensive dish on the pegboard menu was four pounds and fifty pence. Craig told them it was named after a British chef who had visited the place a while ago.

Ellison opted for a medium strength muragh dansak whilst Craig and Blair plumped for the gosht Rick Stein. The food arrived, piping hot. Putting his first spoonful into his mouth, Ellison thought he'd died and gone to sensory heaven. His eyes closed in bliss as he savoured every nuance of flavour which the chef had incorporated into the dish.

"Oh that is good!" Jim almost moaned. "He's even put in a touch of cinnamon. Try some?"

Gilmore was grinning on the other side of the table as Blair helped himself to some of the sauce and meat on his partner's plate. Then Craig tried some of the sauce as well. It was very nice but he certainly couldn't discern the taste of cinnamon amongst the rest of the spices.

"Oh wow!" Sandburg agreed. Then he tried some of his own dish. The lamb was so flavourful and tender it melted in his mouth. "Oh my god!" he gasped.

Jim didn't wait for an invitation as he stuck his spoon in. Both dishes were heavenly; different but both so good. Without a word of discussion Sandburg and Ellison shared their meals between them.

Craig laughed at the blissed out expressions on their faces as he spooned up his own meal. They were so in tune with each other they could have been an old married couple. He felt a moment's twinge of conscience at that thought, then dismissed it. Craig had made it blatantly obvious he was attracted to Blair and Jim didn't seem the type to keep quiet if that was going to bother him.

With full stomachs they lingered over milky coffees before paying the bill and then walking to the museum.

And a good thing they were walking, Ellison told himself, otherwise he knew he would have been spending the afternoon sleeping.

The museum was fun as well as informative, full of interactive things to do. Blair decided to try his hand at news reading.

"I didn't realise how much I move my head about," he exclaimed when he saw the playback.

By the time they got to the Imax cinema short film presentation all three were acting like teenagers, laughing, joking about and enjoying themselves. Blair was giggling through his '3D' glasses at the flying birds which appeared to come out of the screen at him.

Jim winced at the almost blinding visual input.

"Dial it down Jim," he whispered softly reaching out to touch him.

Almost immediately the visual assault let up and he could start to enjoy the film.

Later on, after an early dinner at a Chinese restaurant (food wasn't anywhere near as good as lunch), Jim was wishing he'd given the concert a miss. Craig, on the other side of Blair, was unconsciously echoing Jim's sentiments. Only Blair, caught up in the history of the theatre, and the unbroken string of annual performances reaching back for over two hundred years, was loving it. By the time everyone got to their feet for the Hallelujah chorus Jim and Craig were softly snoring. A quick dig in the ribs brought them to their feet.

Outside after the show Blair was walking backwards haranguing his two companions.

"I cannot believe you slept through most of that! This has been performed every year for two hundred and two years. You've just slept through two centuries of English history!"

Ellison and Gilmore glanced at each other before Ellison replied quickly,

"Hey, I'm American!"

Blair transferred his blue-eyed gimlet stare to Craig.

"Don't look at me. I'm Welsh."

"Philistines!" Sandburg muttered, turning to face the way they were going, his breath condensing into plumes of white. "You are just total Philistines!"

Above his head the two tall men grinned at each other.

Gilmore pulled his car out of the car park and followed Ellison's quiet voiced directions, as he read from the map. With nightfall the temperature had dropped quickly, coating pavement and the edges of the roads in white frost. The main roads near the big towns were gritted and salted but further up the dale, the smaller roads glittered dangerously. The radio was playing softly, Ellison was silent beside Gilmore, allowing him to concentrate on driving, whilst Blair dozed in the back seat.

They were no more than five miles from the village driving along a ribbon of road which hugged the contours of the hill when Ellison suddenly shouted,

"Craig, stop the car!"

Gilmore swore and frantically applied the brakes. The vehicle skidded slightly on the frosty surface then came to a complete halt.

"Reverse!" Ellison said loudly.

Quickly checking behind him, Gilmore rammed the car into reverse travelling back about twenty five feet then stopped as a flurry boulders and large rocks came hurtling down the hillside, crashing into the road where they would have been had he continued forward. Most of the boulders rolled across the road then rolled down the rest of the hill on the other side, down to the river.

Landslide.

"Shit!" Gilmore softly swore.

Flicking on the hazard lights all three men exited the vehicle. Only one boulder remained in the road, but it was the size of a family washing machine and about twice as heavy. A few large stones were spread around it. Moving fast Sandburg kicked the smaller stones out of the way, letting them bounce down the hillside whilst Ellison and Gilmore applied themselves to the boulder. Eventually, under the combined onslaught of both men, it teetered then rolled away to join the rest of the rocks, taking out a small spindly tree in the process.

After a few seconds silence Sandburg asked,

"You guys OK?"

Gilmore nodded, his policeman's mind ticking over at top speed.

"Yeah, thanks to Jim. How did you know that lot was going to come down?"

"I heard the rocks giving way," Ellison replied without thinking, making his way back to the car alongside Blair. Gilmore stared up at the dark hill. Against bright, hard pin points of starlight he thought he could faintly see where the line of rocks had broken off before crashing down to the road below. From his study of the area's maps he remembered the top of that hill was over four hundred feet above the road. Ellison 'heard' the rocks giving way from four hundred feet away, over the road noise from the car as well as the car radio? No, that was impossible. Maybe the landslide hadn't started at the top. It could have started lower down but even that was a reach.

Thoughtfully he got back into the car. Ellison had somehow known when Sandburg had slid against his car the first morning they had met, despite being half way up a hill half a mile away. He could see his way around the village in the pitch black without the aid of a torch, he'd figured out Sandburg had bruised his hip through a thick jacket and denim jeans. He could taste minute portions of a particular spice in a curry, and could, apparently, smell Mrs Patel's spice shop upwind from twenty five yards away and now had saved their lives by hearing a landslide start whilst travelling in a car with the radio on. Pretty incredible feats by anyone's standards.

Craig dropped Jim and Blair off at their cottage a few minutes before midnight then drove to the training school, locking his car inside the compound.

Sandburg put the kettle on whilst Jim locked up and did what Sandburg privately called, 'his night routine', checking windows were closed and locked and that the door was firm against intruders.

"You want coffee or hot chocolate Jim?"

"What are you having?"

"Camomile tea."

"I'll have some of that."

"Can this day have any more surprises? Ellison enjoys curry and drinks tea!"

"Funny Sandburg, very funny."

They drank their tea discussing the day's events before drifting off to their own rooms.

Sandburg burrowed into his quilt still thinking things over. It had been a really good day out. Despite the snoring policemen each side of him, he'd enjoyed the evening's performance of "The Messiah". He'd really enjoyed spending quality time with both Jim and Craig. Craig knew the score now, knew Jim was his work partner and his room mate but didn't want him in a romantic sense. He'd also explained his little problem. Not a conversation he wanted to have to have too often, but Craig had been fine about it, unconsciously echoing Jim's words. "I'm sure we can think of other things to do!" he'd said, as he smiled at him before leaning in to kiss him. They hadn't gone any further than kissing so far but Sandburg enjoyed Craig's kisses. It felt good to be getting physical after so long being celibate. Craig was letting him set the pace, not putting him under any undue pressure at all. Sandburg smiled to himself in the darkness. Under the skin Craig and Jim were very much alike. Both noble souls with heart's of gold hidden behind a gruff exterior. He fell asleep cataloguing the ways they were alike and dissimilar. He wondered if Jim's lips would feel as good as Craig's did on his skin. Somehow, in his dream state, Blair's sub-conscious changed the men around, casting Craig as his work partner and Jim as his lover. He moaned softly in his sleep as his dream Jim bestowed toe-curling kisses on his neck and his shoulders as stroked his hips and made love to him.

In the bedroom upstairs Jim's eyes opened, instantly aware of the change in Sandburg's respiration and heart rate, hearing him moan. He threw back the bedclothes ready to go to his friend before he caught a whiff of an elusive scent. He sniffed harder then relaxed and smiled a little sadly, pleased that his friend was getting back to normal, but knowing that another man would be getting the fruits of Sandburg's loving sometime in the near future.

At the back of his mind he heard a jaguar snarl and roar. Irritably he shushed the spirit animal. Let Sandburg have the kind the loving he couldn't provide, he deserved it. The jaguar roared even louder. The wolf was his!

Jim ignored the angry animal and turned over in bed.

Sandburg woke sticky and hard. A condition he took his time about relieving in the shower, thankful that his body seemed to be responding normally once more. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt as he remembered how his dream had turned itself around and given him Jim as his lover. Not going to happen, he told himself firmly. Jim did not desire him. He loved him, there wasn't ever any doubt about that, but in all the times they had shared a bed not once had Jim shown any sexual interest in him. One the other hand, Craig was most definitely attracted to him. Again he felt slightly guilty that he didn't feel anything any deeper for Craig than a friendship overlaid with a degree of lust but he was perfectly sure Craig's emotions were exactly the same for him. It could be a lot worse.

Unsurprisingly they were later than normal going swimming. The sky was grey and it was bitterly cold. Huddled into their fleece jackets they walked quickly down the village street and into the wet warmth of the pool. Unsurprisingly Craig and Tony had already left the pool and gone to work. They completed their swims and went back to the cottage planning on going food shopping to stock up. Jim was certain the weather was going to be bad over the next couple of days, so he was determined they would have enough food to see them through. Jim thought Sandburg was quieter than normal but he didn't say anything. He didn't say anything either when Sandburg picked up a couple of bottles of Craig's favourite red wine in the supermarket.

Keeping his eyes downcast Blair asked,

"Are you sure you're OK with this?"

"Chief, when have you known me not to complain if I don't like something?"

Sandburg laughed, looking into Jim's eyes.

"Thanks man," he said softly.

"But if he hurts you, I'll rip his balls off," Jim replied conversationally, startling a white haired lady who was picking up a bottle of red for her husband.

"Good morning ma'am," Jim said, smiling, laying on his American accent with trowel.

"Good morning," she replied bemused. This pleasant young man couldn't have possibly said what she thought she'd heard.

In the evening Sandburg and Ellison made their way down to the pub for dinner. Even though they had drunk in there enough times to be recognised, they hadn't yet had a meal there. The food was as good as the menu options promised. Jim opted for venison whilst Blair chose the wild trout dish. Not that it mattered what either man chose as they shared the dishes between them.

"So, are you seeing Craig later?" Ellison asked as he stirred his coffee.

"Yeah."

Ellison grimaced as he sipped the coffee. In his opinion neither the English nor the Welsh could make a decent cup of coffee.

"You want I should tell the chef how to make that?" Sandburg asked.

"Yes, please!"

Sandburg grinned.

"Play safe Junior," he added.

Sandburg put down his coffee carefully.

"You smelt me?"

"I heard you," Jim admitted.

Sandburg closed his eyes and sighed.

"Sorry! I thought you needed me. I thought you were in pain."

A smile flickered over Sandburg's features.

"It's OK man. I know you meant it for the best. You've spent so long being my nurse you can't just turn it off."

Ellison took another sip of his insipid coffee to cover himself as Sandburg patted his arm. He gripped Sandburg's hand and squeezed.

"When are you meeting him?"

"I haven't actually made any arrangement to meet him."

"You're just going to turn up on his doorstep?"

"Spontaneity, you remember that?"

"Over rated Chief," Jim replied dryly. "You want a brandy with the coffee?" Jim offered.

"Is that to kill the taste?"

"No, to get some!"

"I happen to know Dave has some very good port behind the bar, for those in the know."

"I bet I don't have to guess your snitch there."

"You're not the senior detective in this partnership for nothing, then?"

"You too will become wise with years, Chief," Jim replied, waving the waiter over.

After their second glass of excellent port both men plunged back out into the frigid conditions and walked back to their cottage. Jim hung his coat and made his way to his favourite armchair and picked up a newspaper. Sandburg paced around for a couple of minutes then went into his bedroom to put a smear of Vaseline on his lips to prevent them chapping. As he rubbed the greasy stuff onto his skin he considered his options. Making his decision he went back out to the kitchen to pick up a bottle of wine.

"Don't wait up Jim," he said as went out into the porch.

A grunt was his only reply.

A few minutes later Jim was certain he was being watched. Lowering his paper slightly he scanned the room. The jaguar was back. He was pacing the room, his sinuous black tail flicking to and fro, bearing his teeth in a silent snarl every few seconds. Jim lifted the paper again saying distinctly,

"Go away!"

A growl answered him.

He ignored it.

Another growl, this time a few paces nearer.

"Sandburg is safe now leave me alone."

The big black cat hissed in reply then growled again.

Jim wondered if the cat could be trying to warn him of danger. The threat wouldn't be from Craig though, otherwise he was sure he would have sensed something earlier.

Cautiously he extended his hearing, zeroing in on Sandburg without any trouble. Craig was just ushering him into his private rooms. Then realising he was listening in to his partner on a date he quickly withdrew his hearing, dialling it back to normal levels.

"See, nothing to worry about!" he almost snarled back at the cat, annoyed with himself for allowing it to influence him like that. Sandburg deserved his privacy.

The jaguar didn't agree. The spirit cat took a jump and merged with Jim, pushing the modern man down and urging the primal Sentinel to emerge. The Sentinel immediately extended his hearing again, listening without compunction to his Guide then he slid into a zone on the sound of his Guide's voice.

"Is this a good time Craig? You look a little tense."

Craig smiled. "Seeing you is always good. Just a lot of work for the first few days with a new intake. Come on in."

He took Sandburg's coat, hung it up then turned to kiss him in greeting.

Sandburg melted into the kiss. He loved the feel of Craig's soft, warm mobile lips on his. He ran the palm of his hand down Craig's face, feeling smooth skin give way to evening stubble. Craig smiled down at him, brushing his lips again.

"See, feeling better already."

Craig's Welsh accent always thickened when he was either angry or aroused. And it never failed to send a delightful shiver down Sandburg's back.

He smirked at the expression on the American's face and deliberately thickened his accent even more.

"Come away in, cariad."

Sandburg followed Craig into the small kitchen area leaning against one of the units whilst Craig poured a glass of wine for them.

"Have you eaten?" Craig asked?

"Yeah, we had dinner at the pub."

"Very nice. What did you have?"

"I went for the trout, Jim went for the venison."

"Nice choice."

"Mmm," Sandburg agreed edging nearer until he could stand between Craig's legs. Craig's arms naturally encircling him, bringing him closer. Blair reached up, seeing his reflection in Craig's dark eyes, almost falling into the soft brown. Craig lowered his head to kiss him gently. Sandburg didn't want gentle tonight. He wanted wild and passionate. Deepening the kiss Craig responded wholeheartedly. And what a kiss! Sandburg had no complaints and it was only the lack of air which forced them to part, both panting.

"How about we take this somewhere more comfortable?" Craig asked softly.

"As long as it involves a mattress," Blair replied.

The smile nearly split Craig's face in two.

Sandburg moved his head then put his hand against the warm hair covered flesh so it wouldn't tickle his face so much. Chest hair was a bitch to sleep on. Craig sighed, but didn't wake. Blair was still awake an hour later when Craig turned onto his side in his sleep. Staring into the darkness he tried to rationalise his guilt.

Everyone has fantasies, he told himself. There was nothing wrong with that. A little voice inside his head whispered, 'Wanna bet?' Curtly he told it to shut up.

Maybe it was a temporary thing. Jim had literally been looking after him for months now. Perhaps it was a little of 'the nurse' fantasy taking over. It would be better once he'd slept with Craig a few more times. Craig was a wonderfully tender lover. He made sure to take care of his partner's pleasure before his own; Blair couldn't have wished for a more considerate bed partner. As he'd shivered through his climax, Craig had held him and stroked him, crooning nonsense words to him before letting go himself. But Craig's consideration and gentleness made him feel all the more guilty knowing that the only times his traitorous body had responded was when he'd imagined it was Jim touching him and loving him.

The luminous figures on Craig's bedside alarm changed very slowly but still Blair couldn't sleep. At twenty past three he decided he would go back to the cottage. At least he could be restless in his own bed without worrying about keeping someone awake who had to be at work early in the morning.

Craig whispered a sleepy, "Good night," when he kissed him goodbye.

Frost was already deeply formed on the cars outside as Blair slipped quietly out of the building, his pocket torch guiding his way.

He entered the cottage and hung up his coat in the porch, locked the outside door and gratefully went in to the dark warmth of the lounge. For a second he didn't see Jim in the chair, eyes staring sightlessly ahead then an impression of movement alerted him a split second before Jim had him pinned against the wall, a growl sounding low in his chest.

"Jim! What fuck do you think you're doing? Jim!" Sandburg struggled against the hold to no avail. His Sentinel was not going to be letting go of him anytime soon.

"Jim? Jim man, you with me?"

Jim ignored him, he was busy. He had his nose pushed against Sandburg's curls, cataloguing the scents and he was not happy with the results. The scent of another man lay strongly over his Guide. He tightened his hold on his squirming Guide.

"Oh this is not good! Look Jim, not taking a shower before I left Craig's wasn't my brightest idea. Let me go and I'll take a shower now. OK? You OK with that? You need to let me go, now."

Under his persuasive tones Jim's grip softened slightly. Sandburg tried to edge away but the Sentinel wasn't giving up that easily. He followed, very, very closely, not leaving more than three inches of space between them.

"OK, that's cool. No problem there Jim. I'll just go into my room. You can stay out here. I can't go anywhere from in there."

He could have saved his breath for all the effect his entreaties had on the man. Jim stuck to him like glue. He was followed into his bedroom then into the wet room. He turned the shower on, adjusting the temperature then turned back to get back into his bedroom. Jim was not willing to let him go. He simply stood in the room like the original immovable object, not letting Sandburg past him.

"When you get out of this, whatever it is, Jim, you and me are going to have a little talk!" he promised ominously, jerkily undressing and dropping his clothes out of the way of the shower head.

Jim watched every movement impassively.

Finally he dropped his watch onto the pile of clothing and turned towards the steamy water. Jim following, still fully dressed.

"No, you stay there. You can keep watch on me from where you are." Lightly he pushed back against the bigger man who stopped but didn't move any further back.

"Jim, you're going to get wet man."

Jim put his hand against Sandburg's face, his thumb lightly caressing along his cheekbone. Sandburg pushed his face into his hand, wishing with all his heart this was a prelude to their making love rather than the Sentinel being pissed at his Guide for coming home smelling of another man. Even if Jim had said he was OK with him seeing Craig, the primitive part of the Sentinel had, quite obviously, not been in agreement with the arrangement.

"It's OK. I'll take a shower then we can sit and talk. I want you to come back here Jim. Can you do that? Can you follow my voice? Come back to me." Sandburg held Jim's face in his hands, stroking gently, trying to bring Jim back to normal.

"Guide," Jim whispered huskily.

"Yes, your Guide Jim. Come on back to me, I need you here buddy."

He shivered as he realised his words weren't even registering with the other man. This was like no zone he'd ever seen before.

"Stay there man."

Sandburg turned to walk under the spray. He reached for his sponge and shower gel, realising too late that his Sentinel was getting wet with him.

"No Jim! You're getting wet!"

Wet was something the Sentinel was quite prepared to get in order to stay near his Guide.

Sandburg pushed back against the bigger man, taking him out of the way of the warm water.

"OK, you want to shower with me, you need to take your clothes off."

Jim didn't react. Exasperated Sandburg started pulling at his partner's wet shirt. When Jim showed no signs of taking his wet clothes off he gave in and started undressing him himself.

Sandburg groaned to himself as he found his hands, quite naturally, undoing shirt buttons, popping the button on Jim's jeans, uncovering his partner's magnificent body, inch by inch. Jim looked on in interest, but didn't offer to help, or hinder. Whatever the Guide wanted to do was absolutely fine by him. He would carry on to the end. Sandburg tried to be as impersonal as possible whilst undressing his partner, but it was tough not to look. Jim was built like a Greek god, he decided.

Jim looked down as Sandburg slid the zip on his jeans and then tried to remove wet denim, without a lot of cooperation. It was a struggle but finally the offending garment was down around Jim's ankles, pulling with it underwear and socks. Getting Jim's boots off was the next task, made doubly difficult by the laces being wet as well. Muttering imprecations under his breath Sandburg finally managed to work the laces loose then to remove jeans, socks and shorts. He took a deep breath and looked away when he saw how a particular segment of Jim's anatomy was reacting to all the stimulation.

"Don't worry about it man. Probably just a Sentinel reaction," he muttered.

It was rather more difficult to keep his own obvious reaction under control. He stepped quickly under the spray, turning it down until the temperature was well into the realms of cold. A large hand snaked past him and readjusted the dial.

"Seriously Jim, cold is best for me."

Jim didn't agree. He stared at Sandburg until he picked up his earlier discarded sponge and worked up a lather.

"You know you and me are definitely going to be having a long talk about this."

Moving in an agitated manner Sandburg soaped himself well, trying to remember where Craig had touched him and to wash well in that area. Remembering how many times Craig had kissed his hair he reached for his shampoo and began to wash his curls. Large hands joined his in working the soap suds through his curls. Sandburg froze. Jim was being so gentle in soaping his hair, it was more a sensual massage than a hair wash. Relaxing, he let Jim continue. Then the Sentinel moved his hands down to his shoulders, massaging his muscles, bringing the blood to the surface then on down his arms and onto his chest hair. Sandburg gasped when large warm palms massaged his nipples causing them to stand in peaks. Jim appeared to enjoy his reaction as well, since he showed little inclination to move elsewhere quickly. Blair leaned back into the warm body behind him, then just as quickly jerked forward when he was poked in the back by Jim's hardness.

"Sorry man! Look I think you'd better stop doing that," he said, trying to laugh.

Jim simply pulled him back against his body again, moving his hands lower, gliding over his skin, petting him and rubbing himself against Sandburg as well. After making a half hearted attempt to struggle, Blair gave in and let Jim have his way. It didn't take long to trigger a mind shattering orgasm from him which intensified the slight ache in his lower back, a legacy from his earlier time with Craig. He felt a hot splash as Jim came against his back, the warm shower water sluicing them both clean in seconds. Jim held him close until he felt his legs would, once again, hold him up. He turned around and put his arms around Jim, whilst Jim held him close, resting his cheek on the top of Sandburg's head.

Sandburg enjoyed the closeness for a few minutes then said,

"Think we'd better get dry, before we turn into prunes."

He looked up into Jim's face seeing the primitive possessiveness in his eyes which wasn't a usual part of his partner.

"Jim, I wish you'd come back to me." He wondered how much of the evening's events Jim would remember when he returned from where ever it was he'd gone.

He handed Jim a large fluffy towel to dry himself off and took one himself. He was vastly surprised when Jim immediately started to pat him dry with it.

"You need to get dry yourself Jim." He demonstrated with his own towel, patting the bigger man's skin. "See, you need to get the water off."

Jim used his own towel to dry Sandburg's hair. After a couple of minutes of trying to persuade Jim otherwise, Sandburg let him get on with it then used his own towel to dry him off.

He led the way over to his bed with his shadow following closely. Getting in he scooted over to the other side of the double bed then held the bedclothes up. Jim folded his arms and stood guard at the side.

"Jim, get into bed," Sandburg said wearily, more tired than he cared to admit.

After a little hesitation the Sentinel obeyed and spooned up behind his Guide, rubbing his nose through his damp curls, very nearly purring then he sneezed. Turning over Blair smiled. Sometimes it was the simple things which made his Sentinel happy.

Sandburg relaxed into the arms holding him. He was almost asleep when he became aware Jim wasn't sleeping he was whispering something, very softly, over and over again. He turned over to face his partner his hands going to touch his face which was wet. Jim was crying very quietly and saying,

"My Guide, my Guide, my Guide…."

"Oh Jim, I'm not going to leave you! I love you."

The Jim shaped clone continued to touch his face with his fingertips and kept on muttering his mantra.

"Yes, I am your Guide. I won't leave you. I couldn't leave you." He pulled Jim's head down and held him tightly against his chest. Jim, put his arms around him and buried his face against his neck and his shoulder.

Sandburg gently rocked him, soothing the big distressed man in his arms.

"Is this what caused all this? You thought I was going to leave you for Craig? I like Craig, Jim. He's a wonderful man but I don't love him and he doesn't love me."

The Sentinel went still in his arms, as if he was listening.

"But you do, don't you? You love me?" Sandburg asked, suddenly understanding.

Jim lifted his head and shyly looked at him.

"I love you too. I have done for years." Carefully he lowered his face to kiss Jim's lips. It was meant to be a quiet gentle kiss. The taste sizzled along Sandburg's nerves like lightening. He did it again, wanting more of the elusive exciting feel and he wasn't disappointed. Seemingly Jim felt the same as he sought out a kiss at the same time.

For a few seconds they broke apart and gazed at each other before diving back in. Sandburg was buzzing on the electric experience. He felt alive and energised as he hadn't felt in months. It didn't seem to be in the least strange to find Jim settled between his legs whilst he was lifting his legs desperate for feel Jim inside him. But Jim was hesitating, almost whimpering in his frustration. Fighting to think rationally Sandburg came up with the only explanation; somehow even in his state Jim realised he might hurt his Guide without at least using some lube. Sandburg put his hand out on the nightstand, feeling around for the tin of Vaseline he used for his lips. Finding it he spread the full contents onto Jim's shaft, liberally coating him before dropping the tin. Jim surged forward filling him again and again. Sandburg's back arched off the bed in ecstasy, joyfully impaling himself and losing himself in his wondrous pleasure.

Sandburg snuggled closer to his warm human mattress. He felt the bedclothes being tucked in more securely around his neck and sighed deeply in pleasure at the soothing heat. Strong arms held him close and stopped any draughts finding a way into his cocoon. Then a hand went back to stroking his hair.

"Morning," he said sleepily.

He felt Jim swallow before he asked,

"Are you OK?"
"Jim! Jim you're back!"

"Are you alright Chief?"

"Never better."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Almost as if he could hear the way Jim's mind was going Sandburg answered,

"Jim, you didn't rape me. This was quite consensual." He paused for a few seconds before asking, "Are you going to freak on me?"

Jim considered the question.

"No, I'm not going to freak."

Sandburg felt his heart drop at the look on his partner's face.

"You're not happy with this though."

"I didn't say that," Jim replied quickly.

"You didn't have to, I can see the look on your face." Sadly Sandburg made to get out of the bed.

"No, don't go." Jim tightened his hold on his partner. "I was so worried when I woke up and found you here and, I remember pushing you around and I thought……" Jim tailed off, still not meeting his partner's eyes.

"And you really thought I'd be sleeping like this, wrapped around you if you had raped me?"

"I didn't know what to think. I couldn't bear the thought of, of, of having hurt you. You're the most important person in my life."

Sandburg stared.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Jim smiled despite himself.

"You know me, don't say what's in my heart." Jim stopped then looked into Sandburg's guileless blue eyes. "But I meant that."

Blair smiled.

"Good. Because I mean this." He leaned forward and kissed him.

Jim sighed. All the tension leaving his body.

"Keep on telling me," Jim said, sliding forward for more kisses.

Several hours later, when grumbling stomachs had driven them from the bed they curled in front of the fire eating eggs and hot toast. Sandburg suddenly spluttered,

"Craig!"

Jim tried not to growl.

"I don't share Sandburg. This is it, you and me only."

"We invited him to dinner this evening!"

"Oh! How do you want to play this?" Jim asked trying not to feel like an idiot.

"Calmly," Sandburg suggested. "As far as he knows he and I are still an item."

Jim looked down at his half eaten piece of toast.

"Who do you prefer?"

"Don't be such a bastard James! And don't ever ask me that again!" Sandburg shouted.

"Sorry!"

"You should be."

Jim held his arms out.

"Sorry. You know I'm not the easiest person to live with, you can still change your mind."

"I haven't changed my mind in he last six years why would I do that now."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm glad I did it."

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?" Sandburg asked curiously.

"Couldn't."

"Couldn't as in unable or couldn't as in unwilling?"

Jim sighed knowing Sandburg wasn't going to give up.

"Couldn't as in unable."

Sandburg pulled away and looked at him.

"If I'd said something you would have expected some kind of physical demonstration."

"Yeah…"

"I couldn't."

"You were doing more than OK last night."

"That was the first time since… since you were shot."

"What?"

"Same problem you had Chief."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought you had enough to cope with without adding a defective partner to the mix."

Sandburg slapped his arm.

"I want to know about any other problems, you understand?"

"Yes dear," Jim replied, rubbing his arm.

By half past twelve the promised snow had begun to arrive. By four in the afternoon it was dark but the snow continued to fall. At least four inches had covered the ground outside and the storm didn't look like it was going to let up anytime soon.

At four forty five the telephone rang.

"Hi Blair, it's Craig."

"Hi Craig. Terrible weather."

"Yeah. Tony took a group of four out on the hills for an exercise. He was due back two hours ago but they haven't turned up. I was just phoning to say I won't be able to make it for dinner. I'm needed here."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Not at the moment. We need to sit tight and hope they walk out of this storm."

Jim looked through the window at the blizzard white out conditions. It would be much worse on the hill tops.

Sandburg put down the telephone and asked,

"What do you think?"

"I think we need to get some supplies together and go and lend a hand."

Sandburg smiled as he headed to the bedroom to collect his cold weather gear. Jim would always get the priorities right.

The wind bit into Sandburg when he opened the outside door and he shivered. He started towards the car, not wanting to be out in the freezing weather longer than he had to. It was already dark, the short day cut even shorter with the advent of the storm.

"Come on Jim."

"Shush."

Jim was standing in the courtyard looking up towards the towering fell which was obliterated at the moment due to the snow.

"What is it? What can you see?" Sandburg asked coming back to him.

"Two people, young men. I can hear them as well. They've walked along the ridge and they're trying to get down the track. Come on Chief. I think it's two of the cadets."

Amazed that even Jim could see and hear under such conditions Sandburg got into the Land Rover and fastened his seat belt.

Jim drove down the narrow street towards the large car park, straight across to the five barred gate.

""You really think we can get up there?"

"You can wait here. I'll drive up."

"No way. Wither thou goest….," Blair said, as he got out to open the gate. He swung it back then locked it open. "Just in case we can't stop on the way down," he explained at Jim's questioning look.

"Did you just ask me to marry you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I suppose I did," Sandburg grinned. "Do you accept?"

"Surprised you needed to ask Chief," he replied dryly, a smile on his face.

The smile soon disappeared as they mounted the steep track. Sandburg tried to keep his mind off the fact that his side of the vehicle faced a three hundred feet drop through a small wood to the road. He couldn't even see the track either, it was totally lost in the snow drifts.

"You OK there man, don't want you to zone when you're doing this?"

"I'm fine," Jim replied revving the engine in low gear. "There's another gate coming up Chief. Be careful when you get out, we're close to the edge."

Sandburg didn't need reminding of that fact.

He managed to exit the vehicle whilst Jim kept it creeping forward slowly. Applying the brakes wasn't an option. He opened the gate and again locked it open in preparation for the journey down. He ran forward and got back in as Jim kept the speed low until they were on wider level ground at the top of the track then he stopped and opened the window. Sandburg automatically leaned forward to touch him and ground him.

After a minute or so Jim said,

"They're about half a mile over there. They're tired and lost."

"What are we waiting for?"

"Not you Sandburg, you stay in the truck."

"What? I'm not your little ride along now. I've been a cop for over three years."

"You were severely injured. It's cold enough out there to give your heart problems."

"And what happens if you zone on the snowflakes?"

Jim paused. It was a real possibility.

"That's what I thought as well."

"No, Chief. Just talk to me."

"What?"

"Please, just stay in the truck and talk to me, as if I'm sitting beside you. I'll hear you and it will ground me and guide me back to the truck."

"You think you can hear me over this wind?"

"I can tune into you anywhere."

"You serious?"

Jim nodded then leaned forward and kissed him.

The wind was horrendous when he stepped out into the blizzard. It tore through him as if he were naked. Grimly he set part of his hearing on Sandburg's voice and part of it on the weakening voices ahead. They were talking about Tony being injured and encouraging each other to keep going. Sandburg was singing 'Jingle Bells' now interspersed with admonitions for Jim to keep safe.

After ten minutes of fighting his way through snow drifts Jim gained the lee of a wall and used it to track his way up the field, the snow being less thick there. The wind tore a curtain of snow aside allowing him a clear look at the two cadets.

"Hey!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

One of the men stopped.

"Did you hear something?"

The other replied,

"Only my teeth chattering."

Jim swung his torch up towards them, hoping the beam would attract their attention.

"I did hear something, look!"

Jim walked forwards to a break in the wall.

"Hey!" he shouted again.

"Thank god!" he heard as the pair stumbled towards him.

When they reached him he shouted,

"Are you with Tony Edwards?"

"Tony is injured," the taller one replied. "We left him with Pete and Brian. They were going to hole up at Barras while we went for help. It's taken us ages to get this far."

Jim could believe it.

"This way," he directed in a shout. He concentrated on Sandburg now, using his voice to direct him the shortest route back to the truck. For some reason he couldn't fathom his partner sounded out of breath and a lot louder.

"Come on Jim. You should have found them by now. I've turned the truck around so we don't have to waste time. God it's cold!"

His voice was crystal clear. Suddenly Jim realised Sandburg was walking about alongside the Land Rover, so Jim would hear him better. The cold was making him breathless.

"I told you to stay in the truck Chief," he muttered, his words taken away on the wind.

The few minutes it took to get back to the Land Rover seem to last forever. Gratefully the two cadets climbed into the back seats whilst Sandburg and Ellison fastened their seatbelts in the front.

"We'll get you back to the centre and Inspector Gilmore," Jim said as he put the vehicle into gear, slowly and carefully bumping down the track. As Sandburg surmised stopping at each gate wasn't a possibility. Jim and the car skated out onto the car park and elegantly tobogganed out onto the main road via the entry ramp. Luckily they were the only vehicle on the road at that point. The rest of the journey was effected in silence. The two cadets in the back letting Jim concentrate on his driving. Sandburg jumped out and opened the gate into the training school compound, whilst Jim did his best to guess where the parking spots were.

Gilmore came out to guide the two cadets into the centre.

"Where did you find them?" he asked in relief.

"They came up Bolter's track looking for us," John answered for them.

"Thanks for sending them, Sir. I'm not sure we would have made it down here without them."

Craig didn't bother to correct either man.

"Sergeant Edward's is injured. We got him into Barras then we went for help, then it started snowing."

Sandburg and Ellison followed into the training school proper whilst Gilmore extracted the information he needed to track down the other two cadets and his Sergeant.

"How are you feeling?" Jim quietly asked Sandburg.

"Surprisingly fine," he replied with a smile.

They listened as the two cadets, John and Paul explained how they'd all been doing fine when Tony had slipped then fell and tumbled over some crags. The four cadets with him had splinted his leg as best they could and then managed to get him into shelter as the weather worsened.

Craig let them go off to their rooms for a hot shower and to change, he called the local doctor in to check them out then turned to his two friends.

"The helicopters are grounded this weather and the Mountain Rescue units can't see to drive in this snow. We've already had two accidents this evening," he explained to Sandburg and Ellison.

"Tell the Mountain Rescue units to follow us."
"I should be advising you to stay off the roads, not asking you to go out again," Craig said, torn between gratefully accepting help and keeping civilians safe.

"We'll stay in when we've got Tony and the other two safe," Jim replied. "Where are the teams?"

"We've only got one vehicle left, I'll get the team." Craig strode off giving various orders and fastening up his fleece and picking up his rucksack, gloves, hat and scarf.

The journey to the nearest point to Barras took a long time. Almost three hours to cover less than four miles by Sandburg's reckoning. Craig was in the land rover behind with Jim taking point in the Land Rover. The final part of the journey was up a steep narrow road. Sandburg was dreading the return journey down that hill. Jim turned into a gate and began driving very carefully across the field the Land Rover hitching and tossing across the ruts and potholes. He went through another gate then on towards a third. Pulling in by the side of the gate Jim exited and met up with Craig and the other two men.

"We'll have to walk in from here, gate's too narrow to get the cars through," Craig shouted.

Jim nodded, then rapped on the window to Sandburg.

"Keep talking," he mouthed.

Taking a compass bearing Craig and the Mountain Rescue team set off across the snowy field. By the map it wasn't too far, through the snow and wind it seemed like forever. Eventually the dark bulk of the abandoned farm known as Barras rose out of the flying blizzards. There were no windows or doors and most of the roof had disappeared over the years but the walls were still sound. Craig led the way into the remains of the farm to find the two cadets huddled over Tony trying to keep as much of the blowing snow off him as they could.

Their grateful faces as they beheld the rescue party was a sight Craig knew he would remember all his life.

"Well done lads. You did everything right. How's the patient?" Craig asked.

"Bloody cold," the patient replied. "What took you?"

"We thought we'd have dinner first before we came up here. Have you had any painkiller?"

"'Bout four hours ago. Thought I'd better make it last."

Craig nodded and opened his rucksack extracting a bag with a small supply of morphine styrettes in it. He administered one then set about checking all three men for hypothermia and any other injuries. Surprisingly, with the exception of Tony's apparently broken leg, they were in pretty good shape.

Bob and Cyril set up their stretcher next to Tony put it together around him, then strapped him into it. They took one side of the stretcher, whilst Jim and Craig took the other, the two cadets following behind. Silently the whole party trooped out of the old farm. Craig had taken a reciprocal bearing but he wasn't really using it, he was watching the unerring way Jim just seemed to know where the two vehicles were. It still took a long time with their added burden of the stretcher but not once did Jim hesitate.

Sandburg was pacing along the side of the Land Rover when he made out the dark shapes moving towards him.

"What happened to stay inside Chief?" Jim asked quietly when they were moving down the hill, the Mountain Rescue vehicle following close behind.

"Needed some fresh air," Sandburg replied, knowing Jim wouldn't want to start an argument with the two cadets in the back seat.

Jim gave him a dark look then turned back to the road. He was worried that his partner had over done it; his lips looked slightly purple.

Again the journey back was slow and long. It was after midnight when they arrived back at the training school. Even though Tony needed to have his leg set Craig decreed, over the walkie talkie, they would wait for the helicopter in the morning rather than risking everyone's life trying to get through the snow drifts and down to the hospital twenty five miles away.

Wearily they pulled into the training school compound and helped get Tony out and into the warmth. Dr Dorly was already inside awaiting their arrival.

Jim put an arm around Sandburg's shoulders and said,

"Come on Chief, let's go home."

Sandburg nodded. He felt dead on his feet and he more than suspected from the lines of pain around his eyes, that Jim had a monster of a headache from all the concentrating he'd done that day. Electing to walk the few yards rather than take the Land Rover out again they stumbled into the cottage, the warmth from the dying fire and the central heating meeting them at the door making their faces tingle. Sandburg hung his coat up and shimmied out of his wet and cold cord trousers and socks.

"Do you want a hot drink?" Jim asked from the kitchen.

"No thanks," Blair replied.

Jim handed him a glass and his evening meds whilst he took off his wet clothing. Guiltily Sandburg remembered that he'd actually missed two doses that day. He was tired, very tired, but didn't feel as ill as he could have been feeling. At the back of his mind he wondered if all the sex he'd had in the last thirty six hours had helped any. Intriguing idea but one for another day. He literally fell into his bed, having just enough energy to roll into Jim's arms when he got in beside him.

A couple of hours later Jim opened his eyes as he heard a helicopter pass overhead. Sandburg didn't even stir.

Craig watched the bright yellow chopper fly down the valley taking Tony to hospital in Leeds. The snow had stopped and the clouds had cleared. It was a crystal clear night, the reflection from the snow making the sky seem lighter and the stars brighter.

He'd already alerted his superiors that he needed another Sergeant for physical instruction and to help him run the centre. He did a couple of other bits of paper work then sat at his desk thinking. He was so bone weary he knew he wouldn't sleep well. Taking a sip of lukewarm coffee he remembered the way Jim had somehow managed to see through the blizzards and keep them on the road tonight. He thought back to when Jim and Blair had brought in the first two cadets and how grateful he was that both had been found safe and well. Which, once again, reminded him he hadn't had a chance to ask how Jim had known where to look. The guy was well and truly amazing.

Opening an internet browser on his laptop Craig started a search for 'super senses'.

A bright sunny dawn was breaking as Craig was reading an old online American newspaper. There was a picture of Blair, his hair a lot longer but still curly, pulled back into a ponytail, with the word "Fraud!" prominently displayed above his picture.

'Blair Jacob Sandburg,' he read, 'submitted his thesis on Sentinels but the data was fraudulent and has ended his very promising academic career. The thesis states that his room mate, Detective James Ellison, three times detective of the year in Cascade, is a modern day Sentinel, with all five senses enhanced beyond the normal range.'

Further down the page there was a fuzzy shot of Jim, holding his hand up to a cameraman to stop him taking the picture.

A Sentinel. A man with all five senses enhanced. He didn't even consider that Sandburg might, indeed, be a fraud. He had witnessed too many incidents with Jim which made the explanation of him being a Sentinel almost the only one possible.

Craig entered the term into another search engine and got a string of mostly unrelated hits. He almost scrolled past one which listed extracts from forthcoming books, ironically enough it was the one he wanted. Greedily he read it, hearing the building coming to life around him, then he sent both the extract and the page with the photos on it to his printer, then he locked the pages in a drawer before leaving his office to take a shower and make himself presentable.

It was a long day for Craig, tired as was, but he was determined to present his findings to Jim and Blair. In the late afternoon he put on his coat and walked to their cottage. Ostensibly he was there to tell them Tony was making good progress but he would be out of action for at least eight weeks.

"Hey Craig, come in," Sandburg said enthusiastically when he answered the door.

"Hi. Just come to say Tony is doing well. He had broken his leg so he'll be out of action for a few weeks."

"How are you going to manage at the training school?" Jim asked.

"They're sending me another Sergeant who's done a lot of physical training at Hendon. He's supposed to be here tomorrow."

"Do you want to meet up for a drink with the new chap tomorrow?"

"That'll be nice," Craig replied, taking the folded papers out of his pocket and putting them on the dining table. In the dim light the black headline screaming 'Fraud!' seemed to jump out of the page.

Sandburg stared, transfixed at the paper, then turned to Craig and said with a wintery smile,

"So now you know."

"You're no more a fraud than I am," Craig stated categorically. "I assume you sacrificed your career to protect him. It's the only explanation I can come up with."

"No. The headline is correct. I submitted a fraudulent diss and got found out…."

"No, he didn't," Jim said quietly. "It was accidentally submitted before Sandburg had had a chance to take my name off the data."

"Jim, you don't have to protect me like this. It was a long time ago now…."

"Shush," Jim soothed him, turning him so he could face him.

"I'm not going to tell anyone else," Craig said. "I just wanted to know how Jim can hear and see so well. He saved lives last night. It's not something I'm going to forget."

"You're right, Craig. He called himself a fraud because it was the only way he could protect me." All the time Jim was speaking he was looking into Sandburg's eyes, his hands resting on his shoulders. "He's given up a successful career in anthropology for me, he got drowned because of me and he got shot three times in the back saving my life. I know I don't deserve this kind of commitment and I'm a pig to live with and work with most of the time but I do know I love him."

Tears overflowed from Sandburg's eyes and ran down his cheeks.

Craig smiled gently.

"You're a lucky SOB Ellison. You don't get that kind of love everyday."

Jim nodded.

"Sorry Craig, but he's mine."

Craig smiled even more.

"Just make sure you look after him."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Sandburg asked in a shaky voice.

"No," both Craig and Jim answered for him.

Jim wiped the tears away as Craig went to let himself out. Stopping a moment, Craig turned back to the table, picked up the papers he'd left there and threw them on the fire before leaving.

The next day both Jim and Blair slept late. By the time they surfaced the sun had been out and melted quite a lot of the snow. A trip down the dale seemed to be in order, or it did to Sandburg and whatever Sandburg wanted, he got, at the moment. They wandered around the market town looking at the stalls and picking up local produce. With Christmas only a week away Sandburg wanted to start on Christmas dinner preparations whilst Jim thought Christmas Eve, late afternoon, was soon enough for that. It was as they were leaving the outdoor market that Sandburg fell in love. The object of his affections was over eight feet tall, handsome and very green.

"You have gotta be joking Chief!"

"It's a fantastic tree."

"Can't we have a fantastic four foot tree rather than this monster?"

"Oh please Jim!"

Which was how the tree was netted, they were sold a pot and then they went to buy decorations.

By the time they returned to the cottage it was dark, Jim was hungry and wanted feeding so decorating the tree was put aside.

Sandburg was like a child bouncing in his seat, almost too excited to eat.

"Chief, you're Jewish!" Jim reminded him.

"So? We were pretty multicultural when I was growing up. We celebrated just about every major festival. I've just always loved Christmas trees."

As soon as Jim had eaten enough the plates were pushed into the kitchen then the real business of the evening started. Pouring a couple of glasses of wine to fortify themselves Jim took a sharp knife to the net whilst Sandburg prepared the pot with plenty of water. Standing the tree upright, securing it and stepping back Jim was a little surprised to see it was literally a couple of inches below the ceiling.

"Well judged, Chief."

"Not just a pretty face," Sandburg replied tearing open the first packet of decorations.

Jim went to answer the knock on the door.

"Hey Craig, come on in and help. Has your new Sergeant arrived yet?"

"Wow! That is an awesome tree," Craig replied, transfixed at the sight. "No, he hasn't arrived yet, he's apparently driving up from London."

"What's his name?"

"Not really that sure, the fax with all his details on was very smudged."

"You wanna help?" Sandburg asked, seeing Craig's look of awe.

"What do you want me to do?" Craig asked, hanging up his coat.

Half an hour later Craig, festooned with tinsel and holding onto a chair whilst Jim, as the tallest of the three, leaned over to place the star on the top, heard someone knocking.

"Shit! I bet that's the new man." Hurriedly he removed the tinsel whilst Sandburg when to answer the door.

"Hello, I'm looking for Inspector Gilmore. He left a message this is where he would be if he wasn't at the training school."

The fresh faced young man didn't look as if he had got to his thirties.

"Yeah, he's here. Come in. Sorry, didn't catch your name?"
"Ashton, Luke Ashton."

Jim watched curiously as Craig's face first of all turned red then he went as pale as a ghost.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Craig asked the new Sergeant.

"I've been sent to help you out, Sarge, er, Inspector. I've done a lot of physical education programmes at Hendon, I'm a fully qualified instructor."

Craig continued to stare at Sergeant Ashton.

"I thought you'd realised it was me," he added softly, looking stricken.

Jim was more interested in Craig's physical reactions to the new man. He already knew Craig was gay so the new Sergeant's well toned, muscular body was likely to trip some switches. But it was the way his heart rate had skyrocketed and the barrage of pheromones he could smell from both men which told him there was some history between these two. He tuned back in as Sandburg was saying,

"Have you only just got here?"

At Ashton's nod he asked,

"Have you eaten? Do you want a coffee or a glass of wine?"

"No, no, I haven't had time to eat but a coffee would be great." He smiled at the American.

"I'm Blair Sandburg, this is my partner Jim Ellison."

Ashton nodded and said his hellos.

"And by the sounds of it, you already know Inspector Gilmore."

"Erm, yeah. I used to work with Craig when we were both based in London."

"Sounds interesting. You'll have to tell us about it sometime."

Craig looked seriously worried about that prospect, and Ashton didn't seem to be overly happy about the idea either.

"Probably wouldn't be allowed to tell civilians," he answered politely.

"Detectives Sandburg and Ellison are more than trustworthy. They are the people who saved Tony Edward's life and those of four cadets the day before yesterday," Craig said coldly.

"Oh you're the American police officers?" Ashton loosened up immediately. "You're the talk of Hendon."

"Really?" Jim asked.

"Oh yeah, Craig, erm, Inspector Gilmore recommended you for commendations."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Jim asked dryly, meeting Gilmore's eyes.

"The least I could do," Craig replied, relaxing infinitesimally.

"I'll just get your coffee," Sandburg said, rushing off to the kitchen now that the threat of physical violence had been avoided.

"Great tree," Luke said.

"Fantastic, isn't it?" Sandburg agreed re-appearing with a coffee. "Craig was helping us to decorate it. Do you want to join us?"

Ashton looked questioningly at Craig.

"I'd love to, as long as it's OK with Inspector Gilmore."

Craig shrugged.

"You're not on duty until tomorrow morning, you can do what you want this evening."

"Great! Let me take your coat."

An hour later, all four were having a celebratory glass of wine and admiring their handiwork. Craig seemed to have relaxed a little after his first shock of seeing Luke. The admiring looks Luke kept shooting Craig hadn't gone unnoticed by either of the detectives. Craig was rather more circumspect about checking out Ashton.

When Ashton and Gilmore had both left for the evening Sandburg bounced onto the settee saying,

"Wonder if all that was UST or have they got a history?"

"UST?" Jim questioned.

"Unresolved Sexual Tension."

"Ah. Whatever it is Chief, it has nothing to do with us." Giving his mate a sharp look Jim added, "And don't start with the Yenta plans."

"So what did you notice?" Sandburg asked cheerfully.

"When did we go from 'Have they got history' to 'What did you notice'?"

"If you hadn't noticed anything, you would have said so. Ergo, you did notice something. What was it? A look, a smell?"

Jim smiled at his irrepressible partner.

"Well?"

"Smell," he admitted. "As soon as they saw each other they were leaking pheromones all over the place."

Sandburg rubbed his hands together in glee.

"Chief, I mean it, quit with the matchmaking."

"Make me," Sandburg challenged.

Jim turned a smouldering look on him then launched himself, flattening Sandburg to the cushions.

"With pleasure, Chief."

"Oh yeah, expecting lots of pleasure," Sandburg agreed.

Laying in the afterglow, Jim was lazily tracing patterns through Blair's chest hair when he stopped and went into his listening pose.

"What's wrong, Jim?"

"Your heart."

"What? I feel fine."

"It sounds almost like it used to."

"Oh! Must be all the attention it's getting these days."

Jim dutifully grinned at the joke but inside he was bursting with happiness. Sandburg was getting better.

Each evening after that first meeting all four men met up in the Buck Inn. Craig was still rather cool towards Luke but Sandburg soon had all three of them laughing. Blair had also invited both men to Christmas dinner at the cottage. There wouldn't be enough time for either man to get to their respective families and then back for Boxing Day ready to continue the course on the twenty seventh; Luke still had a lot to learn and Craig was the only one available for teaching. They would have a week off at the end of January instead.

It was the twenty third of December and it was Sandburg's round. He collected the drinks and brought them back on a tray as well as having a folded piece of paper in his mouth.

"What's this?" Jim asked taking the paper.

"Just seen it on the bar. They're having a midnight service in the little church at Hubberholme."

Jim quickly read the notice. He knew how much Sandburg liked the little church. He said it felt so peaceful there. Even Jim felt the calming ambience soaking into him on the several occasions when he'd been dragged in there by Sandburg.

"Thought we were having a few drinks in here?"

"We can still do that. We can walk it from here."

"Sounds good to me," Jim replied more than used to his partner's willingness to dip into any belief system. "You game for that, Luke?" Jim asked.

""Not really the religious type," Luke replied.

"He's Jewish, he doesn't let that bother him," Jim said.

"How about you Craig? Fancy going to the midnight service?" Sandburg asked when the other man returned from his visit to the gents.

"Not really the religious type," he replied echoing Luke's reply which brought forth sniggers all round.

"Exactly what he said," Sandburg explained. "I like the church, the history of the place just seeps into you. Not to mention all the mice."

"Mice?" Ashton asked, worried.

"Wooden mice," Craig elaborated. "They're carved into every piece of furniture in there. It's the trademark of Robert Thompson. Famous furniture maker of Kilburn."

This was sounding more interesting to Luke.

"How old is the church?" he asked.

"It's mentioned in twelfth century historical sources," Sandburg replied. "It has one of three remaining rood lofts in the country."

"Rude loft?" Ashton's interest really was piqued.

"Where the musicians used to play," Craig replied smiling.

Luke looked and couldn't take his eyes off him. Craig looked so young when he smiled. He smiled back at Craig then it was Craig's turn. He lost himself in his wide hazel eyes.

"Where they used to bear their all as well," Sandburg said, noticing the look on both men's faces.

Jim grinned.

"Mmm," Luke replied.

Sandburg laughed breaking the spell.

"So, it's a date then. We have a couple of drinks in here then walk to the church?"

"Why not?" Craig said, his face turning a shade of pink realising he had been caught gazing like a fool at his Sergeant.

Christmas Eve was bitterly cold by eleven pm when all four men buttoned up and made their brisk way the three quarters of a mile to the church. As they entered through the huge wooden door, a wave of heat and gentle light met them. The church was lit by hundreds of candles in huge metal holders in the corners and hanging suspended from the ceiling. The effect was magical. The church was also crowded. They managed to find seats at the back on the end of the pew. Once the service started even Jim was moved to join in with the carol singing. Sandburg just soaked in the atmosphere, sending up a few little entireties for this friends and relatives too.

Leaving the building at the end, Sandburg shook the vicar's hand warmly and stepped out into a transformed landscape. For the hour they had been inside, it had been snowing. A carpet of white lay over the fields and along the ridges and hills. The sky had cleared showing thousands of stars against a black backdrop. The sense of awe and majesty affected them all for a few minutes until Jim's sense of humour came out to play. Sandburg didn't even have time to dodge the first snowball which hit him on the back of the head. It was a free for all; snowballs flying everywhere, few hitting their mark but all of them enjoying themselves. Jim even managed to sneak in a few kisses under the guise of trying to stuff snow down Sandburg's neck. They trooped into Craig's rooms at the training centre for warming, well laced coffees. Jim was showing a tendency to linger with his until Sandburg elbowed him discreetly and then waggled his eyebrows at his mate. Jim got the message. His Guide was feeling horny and what could an obedient Sentinel do but to be honour bound to help out on these occasions. They took their leave almost flying up the tiny street to their cottage.

Craig was enjoying his rum coffee having let Ashton do the honours of seeing their visitors out.

"Nice couple," Craig commented as Ashton returned.

"Very, glad they've gone though."

"What?" Craig asked. "I thought you liked them?"

"I do," Ashton replied taking his courage in both hands as he straddled Craig on his chair. "Want to do this more though," he said as he lowered his mouth to Craig's.

For a split second there was no reaction and Luke thought he had totally misread Gilmore. Then a tentative pressure was returned, followed by more enthusiastic movement.

"This isn't a good idea," Craig muttered in between kisses.

"No," Luke agreed trying his best to reach Craig's toes with his tongue, via his throat.

"Shouldn't get involved with people at work," Craig said rather indistinctly.

"Shut up Gilmore," Luke murmured. "I can think of lots of better things you can be doing with that mouth."

For the next several hours he showed Craig all of what he had been thinking about.

In their cottage Sandburg was lying in Jim's arms, whilst Jim was lazily stroking across his back and down his arm. Pleasantly relaxed he let his senses roam not really concentrating on much until he heard the unmistakable sound of two men making love. A broad smile spread over his face as he pulled his hearing back and dialled it down to normal levels.

"What are you smiling at?" Blair asked sleepily.

"Blair Yenta."

Sandburg frowned at this cryptic utterance. Then a look of dawning amazement spread over his face.

"Are they…….?"

Jim grinned even more.

"Yes!" Sandburg said, punching his arm in the air.

"Your own little Christmas Miracle, Chief," Jim agreed thinking Christmas dinner would be a most relaxing affair tomorrow, even if they were all walking a little strangely.