ALL YOU WANTED

By LilyK

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If you want to
I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted
was somebody who cares

(Michelle Branch--All You Wanted)

"Just put in on the floor and leave," said the gruff voice from behind the thick steel door.

When a twenty-dollar bill slid into view at Blair Sandburg's feet, he reached down and plucked the money from the floor. "No way, man. The pizza was $19.85. I drove six friggin' miles and you're tipping me fifteen cents?"

"Get lost or I'll call the cops."

"Thanks a lot, buddy." Blair turned and pocketed the cash. "Now that means I have to work another two nights this week to make enough money to eat. Just my luck," he muttered, crossing the barely lit parking lot to his Volvo. He turned once and shouted, "I have to buy books, you know!"

Suddenly, the sounds of pounding feet made Blair's blood run cold and he dashed to his car. He had just put his hand on the door handle to escape into its relative safety when someone grabbed his jacket from behind. He was spun around quickly and with a violent thrust, shoved against the Volvo.

"Give me your cash, asshole," the impatient black man ordered, grabbing Blair's shirt in his fist.

When Blair raised his hands in surrender, from his right, another man with long, dirty brown hair slammed a fist into his side. Simultaneously, the black guy punched his stomach. Blair doubled over in pain, groaning. "Please," he whispered.

He was grabbed by the collar of his jacket and yanked upright, and his arms were quickly pinned behind his back. Blair scanned the face of the third man, cropped blond-haired and tattooed, who searched his pockets. He tried to focus through the tears of pain, needing to remember the faces for later.

"What are you looking at, motherfucker?" The blond growled and smashed his fist into Blair's face, hitting him hard on his right cheekbone.

Lights burst in front of Blair's eyes and the pain made him gasp. His knees buckled and the man who was holding him roughly shoved him to the ground, kicking him in the thigh. Blair groaned and tried to curl around his aching body. He forced his eyes open and from his position, he saw the brown-haired man draw back his foot, ready to strike. He screwed his eyes closed, bracing for the blow, but it never came. Instead he heard more running feet and sounds of a scuffle. He heard the thuds of fists meeting skin and muffled blows. There were protests and screams of pain and swearing before the feet quickly pounded off into the distance.

Hands touched Blair and he shrank back, curling up tighter, expecting more strikes. A quiet voice comforted him.

"Come on, Chief. You'll be okay. Let me have a look."

Blair's tense body relaxed slightly and the adrenaline started to fade. His ribcage screamed in protest, his leg hurt like the devil, and his face throbbed unmercifully. His stomach lurched at the pain and he lost his dinner while the strong hands held him throughout, keeping his long hair out of the way of the worst of the mess.

The fingers wiped the disheveled hair back from his forehead. The hands helped him to his feet and when one hand wound around his shoulders and another held him under the arm, he weakly tried to pull away.

"I just want to help you, buddy. Take it easy."

Blair tried to focus on his rescuer's face but in the dark all he saw was the outline against the pale street light. He nodded and whispered, "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome," the stranger said as he led Blair back to the warehouse where he had delivered the pizza minutes before.

"Hey, you're the guy who stiffed me out of a tip," Blair said.

"Damned pizza was too expensive anyway."

"Ow. Ow." Blair grimaced when they walked up the two stairs to the front door that stood ajar.

"Don't be such a baby," Blair's benefactor growled.

"Easy for you to say," Blair groused, wrapping an arm around his ribs and pressing a hand on his bruised thigh.

The man led Blair through the large warehouse door and into the kitchen area where he directed Blair to a chair at the table. "I'll be right back. Let me lock up." He closed the door and quickly threw the four deadbolts mounted on the inside of the frame.

Blair's eyes followed the man and he studied him carefully. He was tall and lean, with well-muscled shoulders that stretched the black t-shirt in just the right places. He had on worn black jeans that hugged his body nicely. Blair could tell that the guy worked out religiously. The face of the stranger was very interesting, too. Short, closely cropped brown hair with just a bit of a receding hairline, a strong nose and an interesting mouth. Blair watched his benefactor lock up, and then he scanned the area around the door, noting the TV monitor that panned the outside entryway and the parking lot. Blair could see his car sitting at the edge of the camera's field.

"So that's how you knew I was being mugged." Blair pointed at the camera.

Steel blue eyes met Blair's and he swallowed involuntarily. He was drawn into their depths instantly. He could feel the eyes examining him, deciding his mettle, and he felt as if they were looking straight into his soul. He shifted nervously, a bit uncomfortable at such careful scrutiny, and a bit surprised that he hoped he would pass muster.

The man finally made his decision. He shrugged. "Yeah." He crossed into the kitchen area and, after methodically washing his hands and drying them on a sparkling clean towel, he went to the refrigerator and opened the freezer compartment, pulling out a bag of frozen vegetables that he handed to Blair. "Here, it will help with the pain."

"Peas? Gee, man, thanks. Of all vegetables, I don't like peas." Blair grimaced when the cold touched his face, but after a few seconds he sighed with relief. "I'm Blair Sandburg. Thanks for stopping those assholes." Blair extended his hand.

"Jim Ellison." He ignored Blair's hand. "As soon as you're rested, you need to leave."

"Sure, Jim. Whatever." Blair rose, placing the veggie pack down. "I can leave now." The pain in his ribs and leg flared violently and he leaned his hand on the table, struggling to catch his breath, his knees shaking.

Jim moved quickly, gently pressing him back into the chair. "I said after you've rested. Sit still for a while and let me take a look, Sandburg."

Before Blair could protest, his coat and t-shirt were stripped off and Jim's fingers barely skimmed the surface of his skin. "You have a good deal of bruising there, Chief. It's going to be very sore for a few days. I'll tape them up for you." Jim started to unbuckle Blair's belt. Over his protests, Jim said, "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

"No, man, it's cool. I'll go to the free clinic in the morning. I'll get out of your hair."

Jim towered over Blair and glared down at him. "I said I'd tape your ribs. Are you always this stubborn?" Jim's tone reminded Blair of the type of man who expected his orders to be instantly obeyed.

"I am not stubborn!" the headstrong man quipped.

"Yeah, right." One corner of Jim's lips curved for just a second before the impassive face returned. "You will do as I ask, Sandburg."

Blair's eyes grew wide and he mutely nodded at the tone of authority in the quiet voice. "Thanks." Blair smiled. "You live here alone?"

"Yes."

"It's a big place."

"Yes."

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"No."

Blair chuckled and then grimaced. "Damn, don't make me laugh, Jim. It hurts too much." Blair looked into the icy blue eyes staring down at him and something tugged at the corner of his mind. He frowned, thinking for several seconds before his eyebrow arched. "Oh, fuck!"

"What is it now, Sandburg?" Jim said with an exasperated sigh.

"I know you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. Man, I never forget a face. It just took me a few minutes to remember. Think back about five years, Jim. Exam room. Cascade Memorial." Blair rose gingerly and fished his glasses from his jacket pocket. He plopped them on his nose and pretended to hold a pencil and tablet in his hands. He cleared his throat. "Detective Ellison, I'm Doctor McKay."

Jim's eyes widened and he swallowed. "You?"

Blair grinned. "Yeah!" The smile quickly faded, replaced by a scowl. "Why didn't you ever get in touch with me? Man, I waited around for two or three days, then I tried to find you. I even found out what division you worked out of, but when I went to the precinct, all I got was tossed out on my ass." Blair put his hands on his hips, and said in a gruff voice, mimicking the desk sergeant: 'Detective Ellison is very busy. He's not available at the moment. Please leave your name and number and he'll get in touch with you when he's able.' Translation: Get lost, jerk." Blair continued to glare. "Well?"

"Sorry, Sandburg. I had a big case."

Blair shook his head and he watched Jim's face. He could almost see the walls being thrown up around the man's emotions. "You had a big case," Blair echoed in an aggravated voice. "Bigger than the problem you were having? If I remember my facts correctly, you were going nuts. Enough that you went to the hospital and spent eight hours going through all sorts of tests." Blair sank back into the chair. Normally he would have paced restlessly, but his body reminded him that he had better not abuse it any more than it already had been this evening. "Let's see if I can recall your file." He put a finger alongside his cheek and tapped impatiently. "Full blood work-up. Hmmm. CAT scan. Yes, what else. Full set of x-rays. The only thing I remember you refused was a psychological evaluation." Blair ran his hands through his dirty hair. He yanked it back, rummaged through the pocket of his jacket hanging on the back of the chair and quickly put in the elastic hair tie he found there. "Did I remember correctly?" he demanded.

"Sandburg, why are you pissed at me? I didn't do anything to you. In fact, I saved you a hell of a lot of trouble. You didn't need to get involved in what I was going through." Jim paced for a few seconds. "I had an important case. More important than me having a few problems with my sen…" Jim stopped before he revealed more than he cared to and glared at his companion.

"I know damned well why you didn't follow up, Jim Ellison. It's because you took one look at me and figured I couldn't possibly have any answers for you. You knew that was my business card and you dismissed me on that single meeting. You thought I was some…" When Jim took a step towards Blair, the words dried in his throat at the intense look Jim gave him.

"… neo-hippie, witchdoctor punk?" Jim supplied.

"Yes!" Blair growled.

Jim threw up his hands. "Why am I talking to you?"

"Oh, I don't know. Let's see. Maybe you need help?" Blair said smartly.

"I don't need your help. Not then and not now," Jim growled.

"Fine." Blair rose gingerly. "Nice meeting you." He took one step before Jim blocked his path. "Do you mind moving out of my way? I'm not feeling all that great and I'd like to go home."

Jim stepped aside and watched silently as Blair grabbed his t-shirt and jacket from the back of the chair. He shrugged on the jacket, zipping it up as he grimaced at the pain in his ribs. He stuffed the t-shirt into a pocket and fished for his keys. When Blair headed for the door, Jim followed. He cleared his throat once, then twice.

"Don't go," Jim said softly.

Blair spun around and looked into Jim's eyes, searching for something, some reason to stay. "Why not?"

"Because I... I don't want you to go."

Blair took one look at Jim's face and realization dawned on him. He suddenly had an image of the Jim Ellison of five years ago. A man on the edge, with out of control senses. He remembered Jim in the hospital, confused and hurting. He knew very well from Jim's file that he was a man with hyperactive senses, although he had no clue as to the extent of his abilities. But he did remember those eyes. As he studied the face intently, he remembered the look in Jim's eyes even though their encounter had been brief. He remembered a cop afraid he would hurt an innocent bystander because of his inability to function any longer. Blair decided to keep quiet about his knowledge, waiting for just the right opportunity to question Jim about his senses. Something else bothered Blair and right now, it took precedence over even Jim's abilities.

Blair stepped up to Jim and put a tentative hand on the side of his face. When he didn't pull back, Blair forged ahead. "Jim, when was the last time you left the warehouse?" Blair waited patiently while he watched the emotions flash across Jim's face. When he didn't answer, Blair pushed a bit harder. "Jim?"

"Three years ago," Jim offered reluctantly.

"You haven't left this place in three years?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Then I'd better go, because I can't help you if you won't talk to me." Blair walked backwards a couple of steps before he turned. He managed to slide two of the four deadbolts open before Jim spoke.

"I, ah, wait. Please. Shit, don't…" Jim sighed deeply and clenched his fists in frustration. Make a fucking decision, Ellison! he growled at himself. "Sandburg, okay."

Blair's fingers froze. "Okay what?"

"I'll try to explain if you'll stay."

"Cool." Blair locked the two bolts and smiled. "Don't disappointment me again."

"I'll work on that, Chief." Jim held up a finger. "You need a shower," he blurted out. "The smell…"

"What do you smell, Jim?"

At first, Blair thought he wouldn't answer. He could almost hear Jim battling with himself over whether or not to trust the stranger before him.

Jim sighed softly, deciding that now was the time to trust, at least a bit. He felt a small measure of comfort with this man and he was tired of being alone. "The muggers. I smell them. I smell you. I smell your fear. Sweat. Dirt." He shrugged. "I don't want to. It just happens."

"Wow." Blair nodded. Not wanting to damage the fragile connection he felt growing between them and more than willing to let Jim set the pace, he smile. "Okay, then, I guess I need a shower."

Jim's face broke into a smile and the eyes that sparkled back at Blair made him grin in return.

"You have a nice smile, Jim. I hope to see it more often. It lights up your eyes."

"Sandburg!" Jim groused, but his irritation was a cover that Blair saw through.

Blair laughed merrily and unzipped his jacket, following Jim through the large building toward the bathroom, but he was immediately distracted. "This is a great place. May I look around?" Blair's eyes examined the huge warehouse.

"No."

"Come on, man." Blue eyes pleaded and the lower lip pouted nicely.

Against his better judgment, Jim nodded, drawn to the beautiful face of his companion. He looked into the sapphire blue eyes that radiated curiosity and a sense of vibrancy that he wished he felt himself. Jim stared at Blair until he felt his senses spike. He sucked in his breath harshly.

"Jim, you okay?" Blair put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Take a couple of nice, even breaths."

Jim closed his eyes and breathed in and out several times before he opened them. "I'm fine." He dismissed Blair's look of concern, but he liked the way he felt when Blair's hand touched him. "I'll give you a quick tour and then you'll do as I asked."

"Okay, fine. I'll take a damned shower. But first, give me the grand tour." He waved expansively.

Jim put a hand under his elbow and he ignored the fact that Blair leaned into his touch even though he was pleased at the man's trust in him. "This is the kitchen," Jim offered.

"Yeah, I figured that out all on my own." Blair's quiet laugh tickled Jim's ears pleasantly. "Just how big is this place anyway?" Blair asked, looking up at the twenty-foot ceiling.

"Eighteen thousand square feet, give or take. I only use about ten thousand. I've closed off the rest to keep the utilities reasonable." Jim stopped walking. "This is the living room."

Blair looked around appreciatively. "Oh, man, what I wouldn't give to watch the Jags on that big screen TV. And the stereo! This is first rate. You have great stuff." He dragged his fingertips over the butter-soft brown leather sofa and admired the hand-woven Navajo rugs.

"Don't touch," Jim muttered, but he softened his tone with a quick smile. He gently tugged on Blair's arm and led him into another section. "My bedroom."

"Nice, very nice," Blair said, "I like the way you partitioned off portions but you didn't enclose the space all the way to the ceiling. It makes it nice and airy. I like that." Blair ran his fingers over the headboard, admiring the king-size bed and matching furniture. No plastic veneers for Jim Ellison. "This looks hand-made." Blair pointed to the dresser and highboy.

"Yeah, I made them myself."

"Very cool, man. You do great work. Did you make all of the furniture?"

"Thanks. Yes, I made all of it. I suppose you're an expert on furniture, Sandburg."

"No, but I am an expert on a few other things."

Jim had to smile. "Such as…?"

"Oh, hyperactive senses, that sort of thing," Blair muttered.

Even though Blair felt Jim's body stiffen for a few seconds, he also felt Jim quickly regained control and Blair wasn't surprised when he chose to ignore the comment. Instead, he asked, "Just who are you, Sandburg? What are you?"

Blair laughed. "I'm a starving grad student searching for a knock-out dissertation subject so I can graduate. But I want to graduate with a bang, man. Land a top job at Rainier. Write a book. Who knows? Conquer the world, maybe."

"You probably will conquer the world, Sandburg." Jim smiled. "Tell me something else about yourself. Are you, ah, involved? Married?" Jim was shocked at himself for asking such a personal question. He clamped his mouth closed tightly and wondered what was wrong with him.

Blair grinned at Jim's demeanor and he ignored his apparent discomfort. He was not at all uncomfortable about relaying facts about his life. "No way, man. I can hardly afford myself, let alone another person. I live in a loft over on Prospect Street. It's a pretty cool place but I share with five other guys." Blair shrugged. "It's a roof, but it's damned crowded, especially when a couple of the guys have their dates in. I've had to sleep in the hall before."

"You're kidding?" Jim raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm not kidding. I've just telling it like it is. It's not so bad, believe me. I've lived in worse places." Blair grinned and practically bounced.

Jim liked watching Blair talk. He liked his outgoing personality and he liked that Blair wasn't the least bit intimidated by him. He admitted to himself that when he was living in the outside world that he scared people with his rigid and sometimes cold personality. He further admitted that he associated with people more like himself to avoid emotional trauma of any kind. It was safer that way. No one pried into his life. No one asked what he liked or what he felt. He lived inside himself even when he had not shut himself away from people. But with Blair, he suddenly felt more alive than he ever had in his life. Jim marveled that how a few hours with this man had already started to change his life, but he also acknowledged that it frightened him.

Jim tugged Blair through the warehouse, giving him a quick glance at the workout center with a full set of weights, several expensive pieces of exercise equipment, and the latest treadmill model. Next was a large library of several thousand books, cozy leather chairs and vintage lighting fixtures, and finally past a state-of-the art computer workstation.

Blair would not be led away from the vision before him. His eyes were wide with wonder. "Oh, man. What a great set-up! These components must have cost a fortune." Blair sat on the comfortable executive chair and glanced around with open admiration at the computer, monitors, scanners, printers, fax machines and just about every other gadget known to man relating to computer usage. "Just what is it that you do anyway, Jim?"

Jim shook his head. "Sandburg!"

"Ellison!" Blair mimicked, laughing.

"You aren't going to be happy until you examine everything about me and my life, are you, Chief?"

"No."

It was those expectant blue eyes that had Jim once again spilling information he hadn't told another living soul in years. Jim relished the interest and care he saw in Blair's eyes. He hadn't had anybody that interested in him since he had lived with his mother, more than thirty years before. And even then, he knew he was a failure, a freak, because she had abandoned him before his tenth birthday. Jim shook off the melancholy and slid open a cabinet door.

"I'm a consultant, Sandburg. I do lots of things." He handed Blair a black bound book. "I write training manuals for law enforcement officers. I do some research for my old military pals who have business interests that need watching over. I write a bit, also."

Blair flipped the pages. "This is good stuff, Jim. You have an eye for detail and a way with words." Blair handed the book back to Jim. "What else do you write?"

"Nothing much." Jim slid the cabinet door closed. "This and that."

Blair laughed quietly. "Does this and that sell very well?"

"Do you ever stop with the questions?"

Blair swiveled the chair back and forth playfully and shrugged. "How else do you learn stuff except by asking questions?"

Jim laughed at Blair's innocent demeanor and once again he marveled at the ease with which he talked to the man. Jim felt drawn to Blair on several levels. He felt a spiritual connection growing the longer he was in his company. He felt a physical longing that he hadn't felt in many years for another human being. He felt an emotional need to be close to Blair, to comfort him and be comforted, to talk and to listen, to hold and be held, so many things. He forced his face to remain stoic when he nonchalantly said, "Oh, I write kids' books, and the occasional cookbook."

Jim steeled himself for the ridicule, or the teasing, or the dismissal of his admission, but instead Blair sat up straight and said enthusiastically, "That's fantastic. May I see them, please?"

"Sure." Jim swallowed at the lump that suddenly blocked his throat and he turned away quickly to search inside yet another cupboard. He turned and handed Blair six thin volumes in vibrant primary colors. "They're kids' books."

Grinning, Blair took the handful. "Yeah, you said that already. Why kids' books, Jim?"

"Sandburg, because I like kids. I was one once."

Blair just laughed and methodically started with the first volume, examining each and every page. He didn't stop until he had finished all six books. Blair looked up and met Jim's eyes. "These are wonderful! What a great idea! Each one is very nicely done. 'My Life as a Policeman', 'My Life as a Fireman'. Let's see. Airplane Pilot. Truck Driver. Veterinarian. Computer Operator. I love all of them. Are you doing to do more? Who did your illustrations? May I have a set?"

Jim shrugged and blushed bright red. "You can have them if you like."

Blair grinned. "Yeah, man, I do like. And I want all six of mine autographed."

"Okay." Jim relaxed a bit more, pleased at how nonjudgmental Blair was about Jim's tentative admissions and even more so at Blair's excitement.

"Cool. Now show me the cookbooks."

"Sandburg!"

"Ellison!"

Jim laughed. "Are we doing that again?"

"I guess we are." Blair grinned.

"I'll show you the other stuff later. Come on, you look tired. How about I make you some tea?"

"Thanks. That'd be great. Right now, I'm feeling like I've been hit by a truck."

Jim was at Blair's side immediately and he helped him to his feet, leading him back into the kitchen and planting his butt in a chair.

Blair yawned. "Sorry, I guess I am tired." He rubbed his eyes, careful not to touch the sore area near his right one. "Say, Jim, I remember what you were working on when we first met. I read all about it in the paper. It was dubbed 'The Switchman Case" by the press. Man, you were the Hero of the Great City, Jim. You saved those people on that bus when it blew."

"Hero, my ass." Jim snorted derisively while he searched the cupboard for tea bags. "Three people died."

"But if I remember correctly, and I do, believe me. You managed to get fifteen people off of that bus before it exploded. I'd say that makes you a hero."

"Three people lost their lives, Sandburg." Jim said gruffly.

"It could have been eighteen dead," Blair reminded him softly. "You did a good thing and you are a hero." Blair leaned his chin on his hand. "Say, didn't I read that you were hurt in the blast?"

Jim nodded, turning the gas on under the kettle after he shook it to be sure it held enough water for tea. "Yes, I was hurt, but it wasn't bad." Jim sighed. "You have a good memory, Chief. Too good," he added.

Blair waited but when Jim failed to explain, he gently urged, "Well…?"

"I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks with second degree burns, a concussion, a broken wrist, and a few cuts and bruises. Nothing much." Jim pulled two cups from the wooden stand on the counter and added a tea bag to each mug.

Blair rose and moved over to lean on the counter to watch Jim prepare the tea. "Sugar, please." He liked watching Jim Ellison. The man moved with grace and ease, and he was strong and capable, but he had an aura of vulnerability about him that made Blair want to protect him. It had nothing to do with Jim's physical attributes, but he also knew that he would be insulted if Blair mentioned it, so he tucked it into a private place in his heart.

Jim dumped a spoonful in and looked at his companion. "More?"

"Nah, that's good." Blair smiled, admiring the way the arm muscles rippled with even the simple gesture of pouring water. After Jim set the full cups down on the table, he turned to Blair and with a hand under his elbow, directed him back to his chair. Blair smiled softly at his rescuer. "You're a natural protector, Jim."

"What makes you say that?" Jim asked, opening another cupboard and bringing a small bottle to the table. "Ibuprofen. It will help with the pain."

"The way you're helping me. I'm a stranger to you." Blair popped the cap and shook out three of the tablets.

"No, you're not. We've met before, remember?"

Blair sat opposite Jim and after stirring his tea, he took a sip, sighing gratefully. "Oh, man, that's good. Thanks." He tossed back the pills and took another sip.

"Will you stop thanking me?"

Blair smiled. "Sorry," he said, not at all apologetic. They drank silently for a few minutes before Blair said, "Why didn't you look me up? Did you get the help you needed? I'm sorry I didn't get to follow up, but my mom got really sick and I had to go back home for a while. How are they now, Jim?"

Jim sipped his tea. "Sorry about your mom, Chief." He stared into the cup for a few seconds before he finally spoke. "They're off line most of the time. When they're on, it's hell. I wish… " Jim stopped and drank again.

"What do you wish, Jim?"

"That they'd just go away," he snapped before he ran a hand over his forehead. "Sorry."

"Jim, do you want to hear what I was going to tell you five years ago?"

"Truthfully, no, but I guess I'd should. I'm getting worse instead of better. Even the isolation doesn't work all of the time."

"Jim, listen to me, you're what? Forty, forty-two? You have another thirty years to live, at least. I don't want you living those years locked up in this fucking warehouse!"

"Whoa, Chief. Okay. Don't get so upset. It's my life, after all."

Blair sighed. "Yes, I know that, but what if I can help you? What if you can walk out that door and function like a normal guy? Do you want to try, Jim? Because if you want me to help you, I'm all yours, man."

Jim was quiet for a long while before he said, "So tell me."

"Okay. Here goes. There's a monograph written over a hundred years ago by Sir Richard Burton, the explorer. In all tribal cultures each village had what Burton called a Sentinel. Someone who patrolled the borders."

"Like some sort of a scout?"

"No, not really. More like a tribal watchman. The Sentinel watched for approaching enemies, changes in weather patterns, movement of game, that sort of thing. The tribe's welfare depended on the Sentinel."

"And so…?"

"Give me a second. I'm getting there. This Sentinel was chosen because of a genetic advantage of enhanced senses, and this sensory awareness can be developed beyond what normal human beings were capable of. Burton also said that solitary confinement heightened these senses. Man, just think about it. Locking yourself away is making them more active, not less."

Jim thought for a while before he said, "And I have all five of these heightened senses."

"Yes, you do. It's very rare, Jim. You are a Sentinel."

"So what's the bottom line?"

"You need someone who understands about your senses. Also you need someone to watch your back. Burton explained that when a Sentinel is using his gifts, he's sometimes oblivious to outside influences. You need backup, Jim."

"Oblivious?" Jim rose and paced. "Good God, that's what happened!"

"Hang on a sec. What happened?"

"I was on stakeout by myself one night five years ago. When they found me the next morning, no one could wake me up. I ended up at Conover for six days." Jim stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit."

"So when you finally woke up, you quit the force?"

"Not right away, but eventually. It kept getting worse and worse. Even desk duty became impossible. I couldn't tell what would set off one of the spells. I couldn't drive. I was afraid to go out in case I had an attack, so one day I just locked the door and stayed here. That was three years ago."

Blair rose and touched Jim's arm. "It's called the zone-out factor, Jim. It's when you use one sense to the exclusion of the others. That's why you need backup, a Guide if you will."

Jim clenched his teeth and closed his eyes tightly.

"Come on, man, relax." Blair said soothingly as he rubbed Jim's arms with the palms of his hands.

Jim shivered and blinked rapidly. "Will you do it? I'd be willing to offer you something in exchange for your help."

Blair smiled warmly and when their eyes met, he said, "I'd love to do it, Jim. What did you have in mind?"

"You said you needed a topic for your dissertation. What about if I volunteer to be your Sentinel topic in exchange for you helping me learn control?"

"No." Blair said without hesitation.

"No? Damn it, Sandburg. You lay all this on me and you're refusing?" Jim pulled back and he scowled at his companion. "Some help you're turning out to be. You owe me."

Blair's face fell and his voice was a mix of disappointment and irritation. "You can go to hell, Ellison. You jump down my throat without even giving me a chance. You are a pigheaded unreasonable son of a bitch."

"You said no."

Blair didn't even try to hide his disappointment. "Okay, I said no. But to what, Jim? You want me to help you but you don't have a clue what I'm about, do you? Why don't you ask me why I said no instead of being all Mr. Macho-Broomstick-up-the-Ass Ellison?"

Jim stared at Blair with his mouth open before he clamped his teeth together with a hard click. "I deserved that, didn't I?"

Blair nodded. "Yeah, man, you did."

"I'm sorry, Sandburg. That was uncalled for. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions." Jim crossed his arms tightly and asked quietly, "Is it all right if I try again?"

Blair crossed his arms too. "Sure. We'll see how it goes."

"Why don't you want to help me in exchange for a dissertation subject, Chief?"

Blair looked Jim directly in the eyes. "Because if I had to study you, I'd have to be impartial and treat you like any other test subject, Jim. I don't want you exposed to the world. There are too many people who would exploit your abilities. I can't do that, Jim, because I have to protect you. I care too much about you to study you and conduct experiments, and I can't pretend you don't mean something to me. That's why I can't study you for my dissertation, Jim. I can't treat you like a lab rat. At least, not publicly." Blair gave him a sweet smile. "Now privately is another story."

"Oh." Jim's face broke into a dazzling smile. "Blair, that's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I meant every word."

"I know you did. I'm sorry, truly sorry. I have another offer."

"Will I like this one any better?"

Jim laughed. "I hope so. How about I ask and you let me know what you think?"

"Shoot. I'm listening, man."

"I'd like you to consider becoming my Guide as you called it, and help me learn to control my senses. In exchange, I'd like for you to move into the warehouse with me. You can have your own space and you can have the run of the place. You can use anything of mine that you'd like and you may come and go as you please."

At Blair's surprised face, Jim said, "Take your time, Chief. Think it over. I know it's a lot to ask. I'll be willing to pay you for your time."

Blair shook his head. "No," he whispered.

Jim tried to read the emotions flashing across Blair's face. This time, he quietly asked, "No to what, Blair?"

"I don't want your money."

"What do you want?"

Blair knew immediately want he wanted. He wanted Jim. Totally and completely. He knew that without a doubt, but he was scared from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet. Blair searched deep inside and listened to his heart speaking to him. Jim Ellison was his soul mate. He sighed. He was used to rushing headlong through life and tonight was no different. He made his decision and forged ahead, willing to accept rejection, but praying for acceptance. The decision was Jim's he knew, but he had to ask. He had no other choice.

Jim was a patient man. He stepped back and waited, giving Blair the time he needed to answer the question. Four simple words. 'What do you want?' His life had changed tonight and he suddenly knew that he could never go back to the way things were. Jim knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted Blair Sandburg. Body and soul. As his partner and as his lover. Jim felt himself tremble and he felt the sweat trickle down his back. He had never made any life altering decision without months of contemplation, without making lists of pros and cons, and without endlessly mulling over the consequences. But tonight, he changed forever. He followed his heart and made his decision in minutes.

When Jim looked into Blair's face, he saw the turmoil there. He saw the tiny beads of sweat accumulating on Blair's upper lip and he had to fight the urge to wipe them with his finger. It took all of his military training to stand back and allow Blair to make his decision.

Blair forced himself to relax before he took a step closer to Jim. "This is what I want," he said softly, turning his face upward and closing his eyes. He waited quietly for Jim to agree to his terms or to dismiss his offer.

Jim gazed into his companion's face and he nervously licked his lips. He felt his heart skip a beat and his hands shook. Jim leaned over and lightly kissed the waiting lips briefly before pulling back. "Offer accepted," Jim murmured.

"Deal," Blair whispered before their lips met again.

Jim felt Blair's body tremble and he slipped an arm around his waist. He reluctantly broke the gentle kiss and when their eyes met, they smiled shyly at each other. "You're exhausted. Come on, Chief. Shower and then you need some sleep."

Blair allowed Jim to steer him into the bathroom. When Jim flipped on the light, Blair looked around. "Great bathroom. That's a huge shower. Oh, man, this is going to be a real treat."

"Take off those clothes. I'll toss them into the washer. There's a robe on the back of the door and there are clean towels in the baskets over there. There are sweats in the wicker one also. They'll be too big for you, but they're clean." Jim fiddled with the bottles lining the shelf in the shower stall. "Shampoo. Soap. I can only use all natural products." He went over to the sink. "Here's a new toothbrush."

"Works for me," Blair quipped, earning a ruffle on his hair from his new lover.

Jim gathered up the clothes that Blair unabashedly shed. Jim managed one quick look at the sturdy body before he dragged his eyes away. "Call me if you need anything, and be careful. I don't want you to slip and fall and hurt those ribs."

"Me neither, Jim. Believe me. And Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Chief. We both have a lot to be thankful for tonight."

-------------------------------------------------

While Blair showered, he lazily thought about Jim. He wondered what it was going to be like having him for a lover. Blair smiled. He'd never had a male lover before but he was intrigued by the idea. Until now, no man had ever attracted him the way Jim had and he looked forward to making the discoveries with him. With Jim's heightened senses, he knew he would have to be careful not to overwhelm the Sentinel, but Blair was a patient man. He had lots of time to discover the secrets of Jim Ellison.

Jim sat on the corner of the sofa and did something he hadn't done in many years. He actively used his senses. He opened his sense of smell and allowed the Blair-fragrance to delight his nasal passages. He breathed deeply and did something he didn't know he had the ability to do, he catalogued Blair's aroma into his brain, thereby indelibly setting his lover's scent into his memory.

Jim also opened his hearing and listened to the small sounds that Blair made while he showered. He made small painful moans when he accidentally rubbed too harshly on one of the injured areas of his body. He sighed in contentment when he washed his hair. Jim heard the palms of Blair's hands skimming his body. He could tell when Blair was touching the smooth skin and when he was touching the hairy parts.

Suddenly, his senses went haywire. Sight was overwhelmed and the overhead lights sent shards of pain into his eyes. The sound of Blair's heartbeat and breathing pounded in Jim's ears. He could hear the towel rubbing away the water on Blair's skin and he clamped his hands over his ears to block out the sounds. His nose prickled and his eyes watered when the shampoo and toothpaste, the forgotten pizza and the new Blairscent combined. The smells hit him all at once and he never had a chance to assimilate them. His skin crawled and his muscles spasmed from the touch of his clothes and his own hands. He wrapped his arms around his head and sank to the ground, the moans burst forth unbidden one after the other. He curled into a ball and whimpered in pain.

Blair emerged from the steamy bathroom and immediately heard the painful sobs. He raced to Jim's side and fell to his knees, but when he touched the fallen man, Jim moaned deeply and shuddered. Blair pulled back his hands.

"Jim? Come on, man. What's wrong? Is it your senses? Please, what can I do to help?"

When Jim failed to respond, Blair reacted instinctively. He started talking to Jim in a low, soft voice. He spoke aimlessly about nothing in particular, comforting the ill man.

"Jim, I'm hear to help you. Please listen to me. I need you to concentrate and hear my voice. I'm going to touch you. Okay, Jim?"

Blair's hands lightly stroked Jim's hair and face. He kept up his banter while he touched the trembling body and his hands caressed the taut back. "I think we have something very special happening here, Jim. You know that I feel drawn to you. I know you feel it too." The hands kneaded the tight shoulders. "I'm sorry we didn't get together back then, but told you that I had to leave town for a few years. I'm back now and I'm not going anywhere. I want to help you, Jim. I want to be your Guide. Jim, please, just come on back to me now."

Blair slid closer to Jim and after he tugged the arms away, he guided Jim's head into his lap. He stroked the soft hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He massaged Jim's upper arm and took one of the strong hands between his own.

"I'm right here, Jim. Relax. Listen to me. You're overloaded right now. Your senses are out of control. I need you to concentrate on each sense. I want you to do something for me. Jim, can you hear me?"

A small moan was Blair's response so he continued. "Picture each of your senses as a tangible item. I want you to see a dial, like on a TV or radio, and each sense is controlled by this dial. Ten is the highest setting and one is the lowest. Turn each sense down, Jim. You can do this. You can control your senses. I'm going to be quiet now and you take all the time you need. Okay?"

Blair watched Jim's face intently. He shuddered hard and then he breathed in through his mouth and out through his nose several times. Blair watched closely while his body relaxed inch by inch and finally, after many long minutes, he was rewarded with Jim's facial features beginning to relax and his teeth unclenching.

Blair's fingers traced the warm jawline. "Good work, Sentinel. Can you open your eyes?"

Jim sighed and finally opened his eyes. "Blair?" he whispered.

"I'm here, Jim. Can you feel me holding your hand?"

"Yes."

When Jim shivered, Blair pulled an afghan from the sofa and covered him with it, tucking it around his shoulders. "You're going to be fine. You did a good job, Jim."

"It worked," Jim said in a surprised voice.

"Oh, the dials. Good. I didn't know what else to do. It was the first thing I thought of."

"Thank you, Chief."

Blair laughed lightly, almost forgetting about his aching ribs and leg until they reminded him of their presence.

Jim slowly raised his head and looked into Blair's eyes. "You're in pain."

Blair shrugged. "I'll be fine, now that you're okay."

Jim gave Blair a tired smile. "I'm cold."

"Do you think you can get up if I help you?"

"Yes, but you aren't helping me. You're hurt, in case you've forgotten."

"We'll help each other."

After a bit of a struggle, both men managed to regain their feet and they covered the few steps between them and the sofa, collapsing onto it in a heap. Blair hissed with pain when he jarred his ribs. Jim lay down and tugged Blair into his chest. He petted the damp hair for a few strokes, murmuring words of comfort before they both gave into the emotional and physical drain the evening had brought and fell asleep.

Blair woke a short while later with his body screaming at the discomfort and he failed to stifle a small moan.

Jim woke instantly. "Come on, Chief. You need a couple more pain pills."

Blair nodded and pushed himself up, wrapping an arm around his ribs. With Jim tugging gently on his hand, he followed sleepily. He opened his mouth when Jim coaxed and swallowed another dose of ibuprofen, along with a few sips of water. He sighed and leaned against Jim's strong chest.

Jim's hand rubbed the back of Blair's neck and shoulders. "Let me tape up those ribs." Jim gently pressed Blair down onto the closed toilet seat and after retrieving the medical supplies and a pair of scissors, he raised Blair's shirt. "Damn, the bruising looks nasty. I'll bet it feels pretty bad."

Blair mumbled a few incoherent words, making Jim smile. He had the ribs snuggly taped in short order and with a steadying hand under Blair's arm, he helped him to his feet. "Blair, do you have any objections to sleeping in the bed? I swear I won't bother you. You're in pain and it's a hell of a lot bigger and more comfortable than the sofa. There's no way I'm letting you leave here tonight to drive home."

Blair raised droopy eyes and gave Jim a lopsided smile. "The bed sounds good. Lead on, man."

With arms around each other, they worked their way to the bedroom. Jim settled his companion into the big king-sized bed and covered him with a warm blanket. He watched over his lover until the rhythm of Blair's breathing indicated deep sleep. Jim pulled off the jeans he was wearing and followed Blair into the bed. In minutes, he was dead to the world.

-------------------------------------------------

Jim woke several hours later needing to pee badly. He rose and tested his senses. Right now everything seemed to be under control. He signed thankfully and after putting an extra blanket on his sleeping companion to ward off the chill of the warehouse, he made a trip to the bathroom. He splashed cool water on his face and examined his reflection closely. While he looked the same as he had that morning, he now felt like a changed man. For the first time in almost five years, he felt some modicum of control of his senses and he was very grateful to Blair Sandburg for supplying that control.

Jim smiled at the thought of his companion and he tentatively sent his sense of hearing out to scan the sleeping man. He smiled even more at the tiny snores and small murmurs coming from Blair as he rolled in his sleep. He tested his sense of smell and allowed it to waft over Blair's body. He marveled at how the fragrance calmed his senses while it enticed his body with its aroma. He had been without a sexual partner for five years now and while he only had a teenager's experimental experience with another boy, he was intrigued at the prospect of Blair as a lover. He was a bit surprised at himself because he had never considered a male lover before, but now things were very different.

After a fresh pot of coffee brewed, Jim poured a large cup and went into the bedroom area to sit and watch Blair sleep. The bruising around his eye had turned an ugly reddish purple and with a single fingertip, Jim felt the hot skin. He raised the blanket and lifted Blair's t-shirt to peruse his injuries. With the palm of his hand, he tested the thigh that had been kicked and even through the cotton material, he could feel the angry bruising.

Protective instincts washed over Jim and he clenched his fist, the desire to do damage to the perpetrators of Blair's injuries was so strong that it was a physical pain. In the morning, Jim would insist that Blair file a police report and he would provide the videotape of the assault so the fucking idiots could be removed from the streets. Jim downed the last of his coffee before he crawled under the covers and with a light touch encouraged Blair to move closer.

Blair sought the warmth of his bedmate and he plastered his body against Jim's. He muttered in his sleep and when his body twitched and his hands fluttered in dream, Jim pulled him closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Blair relaxed and a soft sigh escaped his lips. He slowly became aware of the warm embrace and when he opened his eyes, Jim was watching him intently, gauging his reactions for any signs of rejection.

"Hello, Chief."

"Hey, Jim." Blair smiled and slipped his arm across Jim's chest. He snuggled into the crook of his arm, putting his head on Jim's shoulder. "This is nice."

Jim breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Yes, it is."

"Are you okay, Jim?"

"Yes, Thanks to you."

"Good. I'm glad."

"Blair?"

"Hmmm?"

"I think I'm, ah, I'm falling in love with you."

Blair raised his head. "Oh?"

Jim nodded and blushed.

Blair's warm blue eyes met Jim's. "Me, too, Jim. I think I'm falling in love with you."

Jim gave Blair a dazzling smile. "May I kiss you?"

"Please. That'd be nice."

"I don't want to hurt you. I can feel the pain, Blair, right through your shirt." Jim held his hand over Blair's bruised body. "I want to kill them."

"Whoa, Jim. It's okay. I understand. You don't have to kill anybody. But thank you for the offer."

Jim chuckled. "You're welcome, I think."

Blair rolled to his back and pillowed his head on Jim's arm. "Go ahead, Jim. I'm waiting," he whispered seductively. He closed his eyes and lay still.

Jim's steel blue eyes warmed and he licked his lips. He leaned over and slowly pressed his lips against Blair's for a brief moment before he pulled back, licking the enticing flavor from his skin. "Nice," he murmured before returning for more.

Jim brushed their lips together lightly over and over, savoring the feel of the tender skin against his. He enjoyed the softness of Blair's lips and he gingerly touched them with the tip of his tongue. He licked the surface of Blair's mouth gently, outlining them before laving the surface of the lips themselves. When Blair's mouth opened slightly under his tongue's explorations, he slipped the very tip in for just a moment before withdrawing to once again savor the taste.

Jim's eyes never left Blair's face and he catalogued his lover's responses instinctively.

Blair asked quietly, "Jim, are you doing all right?"

Jim nodded. "Very much all right, my love."

Blair's gentle smile warmed Jim's heart and he resumed his kissing of the inviting mouth once again. Jim took Blair's full lower lip between his teeth and chewed gently before exploring the inside area with his tongue. Jim grew bolder and he kissed Blair harder, enjoying the immediate response of his lover returning the kiss. At Blair's invitation, Jim slipped his tongue into his mouth and delved into the wet depths with gusto.

Jim ran his tongue over Blair's before moving on to investigate the roof of his mouth. He tickled the tiny ridges from front to back and then did it again before examining the teeth and gums. When he finally sucked on Blair's tongue, he was pleased at the moans emanating from his lover's throat and at the fingers frantically clutching his arm. Jim released his hold and boldly thrust his tongue in and out quickly for a long while. Next, he tasted the insides of Blair's cheeks before resuming his passionate kissing, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Blair's mouth against his. Jim kissed him long and hard until Blair was breathing harshly through his nose and the whimpers bubbled constantly from the back of his throat.

Jim tangled one hand in the long silky hair and with one arm, he held Blair's head tightly, pressing their mouths together firmly. He kissed him ardently and deeply and he savored the body next to him trembling with desire. As Jim grew bolder, his kisses were more demanding and relentless until he felt Blair hold his breath and shudder from head to toe.

A new smell registered in Jim's brain. He licked the reddened lips once before he pulled back to catalogue the scent and after he examined it, he realized that it was the scent of Blair's semen. The fragrance slammed him in the head and he groaned loudly. His body shook and he followed Blair, coming fiercely. Jim held Blair tightly until they both had finally managed some semblance of coherence.

"Sorry, sorry," Blair whispered, still panting from the force of his orgasm. "I couldn't help it. That was the most sensual thing anybody's ever done to me. God, Jim, hold me."

Jim pulled Blair as close as possible, cementing their bodies together, and whispered into his ear, "I did that to you, Blair? I made you come without even touching you?"

Blair finally caught his breath. "Yes, you did that to me." Their eyes met and Jim shivered at the intensity of Blair's desire. When he looked down at Jim's boxers and saw the large wet spot there, he laughed. "Looks like I did it for you, too. Huh, Jim?"

Jim laughed deeply. "Yes, you did, Chief. It was fantastic."

Blair's face grew serious and he said adamantly, "Jim, I love you. I hope you'll do it to me again and again. I'm yours, Sentinel."

Jim felt a lump in his throat and he cleared it quickly. "Always, Chief. You'll always be mine. Remember that I'll always be yours."

Blair's smile beamed from his face. "It's a deal." Blair snuggled closer to his lover. He kissed the warm skin under Jim's ear. "We're a mess and I need another shower. Oh, and Jim?"

"Hmmmm?"

"You still owe me five bucks for the tip."

The End