Standard Disclaimer: I own no rights to any of these characters. But the bunnies are attacking me in force now and this is the only way to appease them.

Warning: Here there be slash. Nothing graphic.

In Need, Sheryl Crow

Every night I dream you're next to me
Tenderly
You say my name
You stay close enough to keep me here
Then disappear
When we're face to face

And if you'd carry me tonight
I would be strong enough to fight
And when you're weak and can't go on
I'd be the bed you lay upon
And blue is blue
And so am I
Cause I want to be with you tonight
You're not the only one in need

You know everybody's watching me
And what they see
Is me watching you
In the middle, time is creeping by
And I wonder why
You're so removed

And if you'd carry me tonight
I would be strong enough to fight
And when you're weak and can't go on
I'd be the bed you lay upon
And blue is blue
And so am I
Cause I want to be with you tonight
And you're not the only one in need

Come on baby
Life is just a net into which you dive
And I'm getting
Closer to you now

If I love you
Will you run away
And if you stay
Will I disappear

And if you'd carry me tonight
I would be strong enough to fight
And when you're weak and can't go on
I'd be the bed you lay upon
And blue is blue
And so am I
And I want to be with you tonight

And blue is blue
And so are we
And you're not the only one in need


Jim lay on his side, pillows bunched up under his head. He studied the man who lay beside him, bare skin bathed in moonlight. Dark curls spread across the pillow and he had to touch them, enjoying the silky way they moved through his fingers. Full lips twitched up in a smirk and the man opened his eyes, a deeper shade of blue in the dark. Jim leaned in, eager to taste him. But when their lips touched, all he tasted was death and fetid water.

With a gasp, Jim woke. He automatically reached out for Sandburg, who wasn't there. He had a moment of panic before he remembered that there was no reason for his roommate to be in his bed; it was just a dream. A very disturbing dream. Nonetheless, he didn't relax until he heard the steady beat of Sandburg's heart, coming from his own room as it should be.

Jim sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn't like he'd never had sex dreams before, but they'd always featured women. Very hetero dreams about very attractive, very buxom women.

With a sigh, he decided he may as well get out of bed. It was still early, even by his standards, but there was no chance of going back to sleep now. May as well get in the shower, and hope the hot water would wash away the last vestiges of unease he felt.

By the time Sandburg got up, Jim was feeling much better. Or so he thought. He'd made omelets for breakfast, had coffee for himself and tea waiting for his roommate, and was reading the morning paper. But the sight of Sandburg shuffling to the bathroom in just a pair of flannel pants brought the dream back in stark detail and Jim found himself actually blushing.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he hurriedly finished his breakfast and left Sandburg a note that he was heading to work early and would see him later. He hoped that by the time his partner was done with his morning classes and came to the station, he'd be more in control of himself and not feel quite so out of sorts.

*o*o*o*

Blair was just finishing up with a student when he received a call from Simon. Jim had zoned during a meeting and nothing he'd tried had brought the detective out of it.

"Get down here!" Simon barked into the phone.

Blair added that to his mental list of things that weren't right with Jim today. The first two being that he'd gotten up way earlier than normal, and he'd left the loft without so much as a word. It had been a while since he'd had to help Jim with a zone, and wondered if that was somehow connected to the man being off his schedule today.

He made it to the station as quickly as traffic would allow and headed straight for Simon's office, heedless of the curious looks that came his way from the cops in the bullpen. Jim was sitting across from the Captain's desk, his head slightly cocked in a way that told Blair he'd zoned on hearing. He'd have to use one of the other senses to pull him back out.

"What happened?" Blair asked, digging through his pack.

Simon leaned back in his chair, unlit cigar clamped between his teeth. "I don't know. We were just reviewing details of a case and the next thing I knew he was gone."

"How long?"

"I'd say he's been under at least forty-five minutes."

Blair finally found what he was looking for, a narrow wooden box with a hinge lid. Inside were several small glass vials and for a moment he studied them, wondering if it would be best to go with smell or taste.

"I'll just…leave you to it." Simon pushed out of his chair and gave them the office.

Blair crouched down in front of Jim, deciding to start simple and see if touch would work. He took one of the detective's hands in his own, gently squeezing it.

"Jim. It's time to come back now, Big Guy. Can you feel my hand?" Blair alternately used gentle and firm pressure on Jim's hand, but there was no response. Abandoning the hand, Blair lightly touched his face. He had a quick jolt of déjà vu when his thumbs ran over stubble, but he shook his head and forced himself to focus.

"Okay, this isn't working. We're going to do smell next, Jim, okay? I want you to take a nice deep breath for me." Blair uncapped one of the vials and dipped his pinky into it. He smeared a little Vick's Vapo-Rub under his partner's nose, and the response was immediate.

Jim reared back, eyes wide, and he rubbed violently at his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. "What the hell?"

"Easy, man. Just relax, okay? You were zoned."

"What?"

"Almost an hour, Jim." Blair stuffed the wooden box back in his pack and sat on the edge of Simon's desk. "What did you hear? You were zoned on sound."

Jim flushed, and Blair added that to the mental tally. He was acting so strangely today that…and suddenly his stomach lurched as a new thought crossed his mind.

"Is it…is there another Sentinel?" There was no thought of research opportunities. Instead his mind's eye dredged up an image of Alex Barnes, pointing a gun at him. The last time Jim had acted so strange and out of character, it was because of her.

"No!" Jim was quick to say. "No, nothing like that. I was just…listening."

Blair put a hand on his chest, willing his heart to stop racing. Even a month later, the thought of Alex was enough to send him straight into a panic attack.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim reached out his hand, like he was going to grab Blair's shoulder, but hastily snatched it back.

"Fine. I'm just…what were you listening to?"

Jim flushed again, and Blair's eyebrows went up in surprise. Twice in less than five minutes? He really wanted to know what was going on, but getting information out of the man was like getting blood from a stone.

"Jim, I can't help you if you don't tell me. We can stop that from happening again. What if you'd been out in the field?"

"…heartbeat…" Jim mumbled.

"What?"

"I was listening to your heartbeat," he repeated, not looking Blair in the eye.

The anthropologist considered that for a moment, concern giving way to incredulity. "You were listening to my heartbeat? All the way over at Rainier? Man, that's like…that should be impossible, even for you!"

Jim just shrugged, looking uncomfortable. Blair opened his mouth to ask more questions, but then Simon was back, demanding the return of his office.

"We're talking about this later," Blair hissed as they headed back through the bullpen.

*o*o*o*

It had been a long day and Jim was tired. Who knew it could be so exhausting staying out of Sandburg's way? He'd been too far off his game to do any of the usual joking around with the guys in the bullpen, and had fairly wept in gratitude when a call came in of shots fired downtown. All his focus had gone into diffusing a hostage situation at a convenience store, and then handling the follow-up interviews and paperwork.

He'd been alarmed to realize how much he touched Sandburg during the course of a day. He'd never noticed it before, but today he was conscious of every move he made. There'd been no casual arm slung over Blair's shoulder, no pats on the back, no tags on the arm. Countless times his traitorous hands had reached out and he'd had to force himself not to touch.

"I'm gonna reheat the veggie lasagna. You want some?" Sandburg asked after stowing his pack in his room. Jim knew it had been a long day for him too.

"Sounds good. Beer?"

"Yeah, sure."

Jim got them each a bottle before settling himself on the couch and laying his head back, eyes closed. He knew Sandburg was itching to talk to him, about the zone and probably other things as well. He'd seen the confused, hurt look in his partner's eyes when Jim pulled away from even the most casual brush of fingers. He didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but he just couldn't deal with that right now. That dream had really thrown him, much as he didn't want to think about it.

"Jim, about today…"

"Can we save this for later, Chief?" Jim asked, holding up a hand. "I think I'm just gonna eat and then crawl into bed."

"Well, yeah, but I think…"

"We can talk tomorrow, after I've had a decent night's sleep," Jim promised. Anything to get out of doing this now.

"Oh. Okay."

He could tell Sandburg wasn't happy at being put off another day, but Jim just wasn't ready to talk about…well, anything.

They spent the next hour or so eating, making small talk, and carefully keeping out of each other's way. When Jim finally went upstairs to go to sleep, he tried not to think about having to do that all over again the next day.

*o*o*o*

Blair lay with his head on the other man's chest, an arm draped over him and keeping him snuggled close. He didn't need super senses to hear the steady thump-thump of the man's heartbeat, or appreciate the feel of muscle overlaid with soft skin. He lazily ran his fingers over the man's taut stomach, pausing just a moment to poke gently at the bellybutton. A hand on his chin tilted his head up, and then his lips were captured in a kiss. It started soft and sweet, but more and more pressure was applied until Blair was actually in pain, tasting blood in his mouth.

Barely giving himself time to blink his eyes open and steady his breathing, Blair fumbled on the shelf beside his bed for his dream journal. He wanted to write down the details of the dream before they were gone, so that he could study it in the morning. In most cultures, dreams were given great significance and…and he was lecturing himself.

Done writing, and hoping it would be legible when he went to read it, Blair lay back on his pillow and took a deep breath. He'd had some crazy dreams in his lifetime, but that one was a doozy. The weird part, for him, hadn't been that he'd been in bed with Jim, but that his subconscious mind had Jim hurting him. He licked his lips, almost expecting to taste blood, but of course there was none.

Tomorrow he'd do some research on dreams and try to find out the symbology of homosexual dreaming. If there was one thing Blair was pretty clear on, it was his own sexuality. Even during the "experimental" years, he'd never been inclined to take the same sex out for a test drive. So whatever the dream meant, he was fairly certain it wasn't that he had the hots for his roommate. Which would not only be laughable, but Jim would likely throw him off the roof if he even mentioned his dream.

Trying to shake it out of his mind, Blair tossed and turned for several minutes until he found a comfortable position. He had some free time tomorrow, and he vowed to get to the bottom of his dream. It had unsettled him, and it a good half hour before he could get back to sleep.

*o*o*o*

Jim had lingered in his bedroom longer than necessary, avoiding having to facing Sandburg. He wasn't looking forward to the talk he'd promised his roommate, even less so after having a rerun last night. Same dream, same horrible ending. It had been hours before he could go back to sleep, his heart pounding in his ears. Of all the recurring dreams he could be having, this one was definitely at the bottom of his list.

Deciding he couldn't put it off any longer, Jim trudged down the stairs. It was only once he'd gotten there that he realized there were none of the usual morning smells to greet him. Sandburg, who was sitting at the table with two notebooks and several papers spread around, hadn't made coffee, tea or anything else edible. It didn't look like he'd been in the shower either.

"Morning, Chief." Jim skirted the table, giving his roommate a wider berth than necessary, and headed right for the coffee maker. The only response he got was the sound of Sandburg scribbling in one of his notebooks. While Jim waited for the coffee to brew, he wondered what he could do today that wouldn't involve his partner. It was Saturday and he was off for the weekend, but he was damned if he'd be spending the whole day talking about his feelings.

"You want some tea?" Jim asked. "Hey. Sandburg."

He wondered if Guides could zone, or if he was just being ignored. He grabbed a packet of sugar and threw it at Sandburg's head, hitting him squarely in the ear.

"Hey, man! What are you doing?"

"You zoning now too?" Jim asked. "I asked if you wanted some tea."

Sandburg rubbed his ear. "No. Thanks. Actually, I have to run over to the University for a little while."

He picked up his notebooks and got the papers into some semblance of order, carrying the whole lot back to his room. Jim poured a cup of coffee, listening as his roommate got dressed and threw some things into his pack.

"Everything okay, Sandburg?" Jim asked when Blair emerged from his room, resplendent in blue flannel.

"Fine. Just need to do a bit of research. Uh, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Sandburg was headed to the door and without thinking Jim reached out and grabbed his arm. For just a second, maybe two, his roommate's face was superimposed by the dream face; the smirk, the skin glowing in the moonlight. And Jim was gripped by an overwhelming impulse to fold his Guide into his arms, desperately needing to touch him after being denied all contact the day before. Instead he clenched his jaw and stepped back, refusing to let himself lose control like that.

For a long moment Jim and Sandburg just stared at each other, the air between them charged and pregnant with all the things that weren't being said. And then Blair was gone, darting through the door and out of sight. Jim had to force himself not to track his Guide's heartbeat, not after the long zone he'd had yesterday.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Jim grumbled. He rested his forehead on the door and sighed.

*o*o*o*

Blair made it all the way down to his car, sliding behind the wheel just before his legs gave out. What the hell was going on? The dream had thrown him, sure, but when Jim had grabbed his arm Blair could see him, just for a second, as he'd been in the dream. He'd wanted to touch him so badly then. Jim had gone out of his way to avoid touching him yesterday, but Blair hadn't expected it to bother him this much.

"Stupid," he muttered to himself. He turned the car on and drove to Rainier, his mind going a thousand miles a minute trying to come up with a rational explanation for the last two days.

When he got to campus, Blair headed right for the library. If there was an answer to be found, he knew it would be there. As always, once he was through the doors he took a moment to just stop and inhale the intoxicating scent of all those books. Sometimes he got a little dizzy, thinking about all the knowledge contained in this one building. There was no way the internet could compare.

"Good morning, Blair!" Kelly, who was working the front desk for the Saturday shift, waved at him when he came in.

"Hey, Kelly."

"Hitting the books kind of early."

"Knowledge knows no time constraints," Blair said with a grin. He gave her a little wave and headed back to the stacks.

Two hours later he was sitting at a long table, surrounded by stacks of books. He made copious notes, nodding frequently and biting the end of his pen. He'd picked apart his dream and felt like he had a better handle on things now. The bigger question was what to do with the knowledge. He had to talk to Jim, obviously. Things had been really weird between them this morning. But there was also the zone and Jim's strange behavior from the day before that needed to be addressed.

Blair made a few more notes, and then tried to organize the whole mess so that he could present it to Jim. Assuming he could get his thick-headed roommate to even listen, despite his promise.

*o*o*o*

The loft was empty and Blair couldn't help feeling a bit relieved. Jim hadn't left a note, so he had no idea where his roommate was, but decided that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Shrugging out of his backpack, he made a beeline for the bathroom and the shower he'd neglected that morning.

The combination of hot water and deep breathing exercises went a long way to making Blair feel more centered. He found himself whistling as he combed the tangles out of his hair and shaved. Whatever was going on, he was confident that he and Jim would deal with it. Just like they always did. It was up to him to keep a level head.

Securing a towel around his waist, Blair walked out of the bathroom, pausing for a moment in front of the window. It was a nice, sunny day; maybe he could talk Jim into going to the park or something. He turned back around and nearly had a heart attack. Jim was standing behind the couch, staring at him.

"Oh, hey man! Didn't know you were back. Jim?"

There was no response from his roommate, and Blair wasn't even sure the big guy was blinking. Oh, no. Another zone? So soon? Worry swirled in his gut as he hurried over to Jim, who stood still as a statue.

"Jim? Hey, Big Guy. Can you hear me? Come back out, Jim." Blair put his hand on Jim's bare forearm, squeezing gently. "Can you feel that? Follow my voice, Jim. Feel my hand."

It wasn't working. Blair turned, making to go for his pack, when he was suddenly grabbed from behind. Jim's arms crossed his chest, pinning his own arms at his sides. Blair found himself pressed tightly against his roommate and he wriggled furiously, trying to get free.

"Whoa, there! Hey, Jim…uh…what're you doing, man?"

Jim didn't answer. He rested his cheek on the top of Blair's head, inhaling deeply. Blair continued to struggle, only now it was against himself. Whatever Jim was doing, a part of him wanted it to continue. The part of him that was the Guide and missed the touch of his Sentinel.

"Jim, you with me man? You gotta let me go."

"I had a dream about you," Jim murmured in his ear.

Blair stilled. "A dream? What dream?"

"We were together," Jim said, his breath tickling Blair's ear.

"Um…we're always together."

"No!" Jim pushed Blair away, letting the man get a firm grip on his slipping towel. "We were…together."

He was blushing again, but there was a look in his eye that made Blair take a step back. He scrambled for something to say. "Talk about coincidence! You know, I was at the library today and I did some research on dreams. Sex dreams are, like, rarely literal. The dream you had, about…about us, it was really just a dream about yourself, how you feel about yourself."

"I'm feeling gay?" Jim snorted derisively.

"No, no, it's not that at all. It's like you're accepting yourself. Maybe you're finally coming to terms with the Sentinel thing."

"I want to touch you." Jim's hands were fisted at his side.

"Yeah, uh, that's a Sentinel thing, Big Guy. Nothing to worry about there."

"I zoned on you again."

Blair gave a little start, surprised. "What?"

"You were by the window. Little drops of water, on your skin. They…sparkled." Jim was standing so rigidly that Blair was worried he'd snap himself in two.

"We'll figure this out, Jim. I promise we will." But now he wasn't so sure. A Guide was supposed to help his Sentinel, not send him into a zone. To say nothing of the fact that until now, Jim had been in control of that. He hardly ever zoned anymore. And now he'd gone under twice in as many days. The urge to go to Jim, to reassure him through touch was incredibly strong. And yet he worried it might do more harm than good at this point.

"Give me some time to work on this, okay? Maybe…maybe these dreams are tied up in the Sentinel thing."

Jim looked at him sharply. "Dreams?"

"Oh, uh, you know…your dream."

"Something's going on here, Chief. Have you…have you been dreaming too?" Jim took a step towards him and Blair backed up again.

"Yeah, well, I guess that's another coincidence." He laughed weakly. "You know, kissing in dreams can be a sign of respect for the person you kiss."

"You dreamt about kissing me?" That look was back in Jim's eyes, stronger than before, and Blair felt himself panicking. Not because he was afraid of what Jim would do, but because he was afraid he wouldn't stop it; would in fact want it too much.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, in dream mythology…"

"Was there something wrong with it? With the kiss?"

Jim was bearing down on him now and Blair was running out of places to go. His heart was racing, and he didn't know if it was fear or…or something else. The dream flashed before his eyes again, and he could taste blood in his mouth.

"No. Yes, it…"

"You're bleeding."

Blair put a finger to his mouth and saw that Jim was right. He must have bitten his lip. Jim was seriously invading his personal space but he found he couldn't move, didn't want to move.

"You need to figure this out, Einstein."

And then Jim was gone, out the door, and Blair was left pressed against the wall, his knees weak.

*o*o*o*

Jim spent the rest of the day driving aimlessly around Cascade, stopping only to grab a bite to eat at Wonderburger and again to wander around the park. He knew he dumped a lot on Sandburg, just as he knew his roommate was up to the challenge. He hoped it wouldn't take too long to find an answer; he didn't like losing control and he'd come very close to doing just that in the loft today.

The thing was, he was more worried about pushing Sandburg than he was of what he was feeling. He should've been freaking out – about the dream, about his obsessive need to touch his roommate, about the fact that he'd wanted to do more than just touch today. Somehow, it all seemed perfectly natural. Which is why he was sure it was a Sentinel-Guide thing. Jim knew that Sandburg had only just scratched the surface of what being a Sentinel really meant; it seemed they were always learning something new.

One thing was certain – he didn't want anything to come between him and Sandburg. It had only been a month since he'd found him floating in the fountain, cold and dead. He wasn't going through that loss again, wasn't going to do anything that would force Sandburg to leave. The other man was too important to him, as a friend and as a Guide.

As dusk began to fall, Jim pointed the truck back to the loft. He stopped on the way to grab some pizza, certain that Sandburg hadn't thought about eating when there was research to be done. And he was right. He found his roommate stretched out on the couch, asleep, with a book on his chest. More books were piled on the coffee table.

Jim set the pizza box on the kitchen table and then moved some books around to give himself a spot to sit. Sandburg's face was peaceful in sleep, his mouth partially open. Jim reached out and brushed a wayward curl off of his friend's forehead.

They'd been through a lot together, him and Sandburg. For a genius anthropologist, the kid had guts to spare. He'd helped Jim get a handle on his Sentinel abilities and he'd helped the Cascade PD solve countless cases, usually at personal risk to himself. Whatever else was in store for them, he knew they'd handle it. He'd had plenty of time to think today and he'd decided that whatever it was that they were meant to do, they'd do it. Together.

"Wake up, Chief," Jim said, tapping him on the cheek. "Time to eat."

Sandburg woke with a snort, knocking his book to the floor. "Wha…Jim?"

"Pizza." Jim nodded his head towards the kitchen. "Hungry?"

"Oh, man, you have no idea!"

Together they tucked into the pizza. Jim let his friend have a couple slices before he started asking questions.

"Find anything in all those books?"

Sandburg shrugged. "Not a lot. Not even Burton had a lot of documentation on Sentinels and Guides, nothing helpful with the day to day stuff at any rate. I did find something in an old Magumbe legend, though."

"Magumbe?"

"Ancient African tribe," Sandburg explained. "Sentinels are mentioned several times in their mythology. There was only one that also spoke of Guides."

"And?"

"And, they spoke of a joining, in two parts." Sandburg wiped his mouth on napkin. He pushed a piece of crust around on his plate. "A…uh…spiritual joining followed by…a physical one."

Jim pondered that for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. He didn't know much about the history of Sentinels and Guides, but he knew it was a very intense relationship. He and Sandburg were already living and working together, and often shared their down time and vacations as well. Looking at it that way, his dream indicated the logical progression of things.

"We've done the spiritual joining already," Sandburg said. He kept his gaze lowered.

"At the fountain," Jim replied. "I remember."

Incacha's spirit had guided Jim that day, helped him call on his spirit guide to save Sandburg. He would never forget the vision he'd had of the panther and wolf merging into one. He'd never appreciated his abilities more than that moment, when Sandburg's heart had started beating again.

"We didn't know, Jim. If the Magumbe legend is right, we put something into motion without knowing it. I think all the zone outs have to be related." Sandburg pushed back from the table and went back to his books. "I've been trying to see if there's a way around this, man, but so far I haven't found anything."

Jim joined him, sitting on the coffee table again. Staying close.

"Sandburg."

"I'll find it, Jim, it's just going to take me some time."

He could hear the worry in his Guide's voice, and the unspoken apology as well. If anyone knew how much Jim had struggled with his Sentinel destiny, it was Sandburg. It was that whole loss of control thing. Here he was again, being pulled into something he didn't want. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Not this time.

"Chief. I'm sorry you have to go through this." And he meant it. Sandburg had done nothing but try to help him, since day one. His partner looked up at him, surprised.

"No, I'm the one that's sorry. Jim, if you hadn't…if you hadn't saved me…"

"If I hadn't saved you, I wouldn't be here right now. I can't do any of this without you, Sandburg." Jim scrubbed his hand over his face. "This is a lot to ask, I know. But if it helps us do our job better…maybe we should think about it."

Sandburg stared at him, his mouth gaping.

*o*o*o*

Blair stared at the man sitting in front of him, stunned speechless. Whatever he'd expected from Jim – anger, accusation – it certainly wasn't this calm acceptance. Yesterday he'd avoided touching him, today he wanted…well, he wasn't exactly sure what Jim wanted. He must be feeling the same pull that Blair was, though. But was it enough to take such a big next step, especially for two raging heterosexual men?

"You still with me, Chief?" Jim asked, looking worried.

"Yeah. I just…I'm not gay." Okay, that sounded lame. But Jim just laughed.

"Didn't think you were. I'm not either." He shrugged. "This is something…different."

"A Sentinel thing?" Blair asked wryly. As if that made everything better.

"Yeah. Look, I never wanted this thing in the first place. But it helps me do my job, helps me protect my tribe. I can't just take part of it and ignore the rest. If I'm going to be a Sentinel, I'm doing it all the way." Jim looked down at his hands. "I'd rather have you with me on this, but I understand if you can't."

Blair leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "In my dream, you hurt me."

"What?"

"You kissed me, and it was…nice. But then it was hard, and my mouth was bleeding." Blair ran his tongue over the spot where he'd bit his own lip earlier that day. "I don't now, man. I don't know what that means."

"I've been thinking about that, actually, because the kiss in my dream wasn't…it was scary. I think it's because I have a complete picture of you with all my other senses, but not that one. Not taste." And while Jim was blushing again, he maintained eye contact.

"What do you mean, a complete picture?"

"I know you by scent," Jim said, his voice hushed. "Underneath the fruity shampoo and the organic-whatsis deodorant, I know how you smell. Earthy. Solid."

Blair was startled when Jim leaned forward, but he didn't pull away. The Sentinel sniffed around his head, eyes closed.

"I know you by sight. Every hair on your head, every freckle. I can tell just by looking at you if you're tired or if you're having a headache or if you're trying to hide something from me. Your eyes are so blue."

Blair shrank a bit from the scrutiny, though he had to admit that he was a bit flushed from the way Jim's words were making him feel. He knew, academically, that Jim could find him in any size crowd. But this was something he hadn't been prepared for; it was so personal.

"I know you by touch. Imperfections in your skin." Jim put his hand on Blair's face, one thumb stroking along his cheekbone. "I can feel the blood moving in your veins."

His voice was hypnotizing and Blair felt himself leaning into his touch.

"I know you by sound. The changes in your voice that tell me your mood. Your heartbeat, which is the last thing I listen to every night before I fall asleep."

"Jim…" Blair wasn't sure what to say.

"The only taste I have of you tastes like death." Jim's mouth pulled down at the corners. "From doing CPR."

Blair hadn't thought about that. He tried not to think of that day in general, but he'd forgotten that Jim had worked so hard to save him. And suddenly the only thing that mattered to him was erasing that sense memory forever.

"Jim," he said again, though there were really no words needed. He moved forward, gently guided by Jim's hand on his face. And then they were kissing, his first kiss with another man, but that thought was extremely fleeting. At that moment, all he felt was love.

*o*o*o*

Moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow. Blair lay with his head on Jim's chest, Jim's arm draped loosely over his hip. Both men were covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but Blair didn't care. His fingers trailed down his partner's rib cage and back up again.

"That was…intense," he said after a while.

Jim chuckled. "Best I've ever had."

"Really?"

"I think it made a difference. It being you. I trust you."

Blair flushed, pleased. He knew what Jim meant. They knew each other in a way he'd never known any of the women he'd been with. He already trusted Jim with his life; he didn't have to hold anything back. Of course, it didn't hurt that the man had the uncanny ability to know exactly how Blair wanted to be touched. He could just see the title of that paper…Sex and the Sentinel.

"What happens now?" Jim asked.

"I don't know," Blair admitted. "Are you…sorry?"

Jim leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "No. This wasn't something I ever planned on, but I don't regret it. I could never regret you, Chief."

Blair blinked back tears. He'd never planned on this either. After a childhood living as a gypsy with his mother, there were a lot of things he'd never planned on. Like having a home. Or a family made of members of Cascade PD. And Jim was all of that for him – home, family, acceptance.

"This is the best I've felt in a really long time," Jim murmured. "I feel like everything is…right, somehow."

"I feel that way too, Big Guy." Blair idly poked at Jim's bellybutton. "Like, nothing else matters. Naomi always said that love was love, no matter what shape it took."

"Smart lady," Jim remarked. He tugged on Blair's curls until he moved his head back. They kissed, and Jim smiled.

"Now I know you by taste. Minty, from your toothpaste. And sweet, like peaches." Jim kissed him again, then closed his eyes.

"Love you, Blair," he whispered.

Blair cuddled up next to him, this time unable to stop a few tears from escaping. "I love you too, Jim."


AN: My gal pal asked me not too long ago why I wasn't writing any Sentinel fics, since I was otherwise obsessed with these characters. I said I just didn't feel the need to. I had nothing to add. And then the plot bunnies came, not satisfied with just one fic but needing more and more. This particular bunny attacked me while I was driving to the store, not caring that I already have a billion other fics in progress. Selfish bunnies!

This one went really slashy, but I'm not going to apologize for that. ::grins:: The whole Sentinel-Guide thing just really seems to lend itself to that kind of relationship, does it not? This one's for you, Smiles2Go!