A Sense of Belonging

A Sense of Belonging by katef, illustrated by PattRose


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October 30:

Sentinel Detective Jim Ellison rubbed his hand over his face in an attempt to stave off a combination of exhaustion from long hours of surveillance and the added stress that the unceasing rigid control over his wayward senses produced. Without a bonded guide to help him with fine-tuning and support, he was finding it increasingly difficult to utilise his gift to its full extent without incipient headaches or even the occasional zone when sheer fatigue got the better of him.

Knowing that a bonded guide could be the answer to his sense problems was one thing, but actually finding and bonding with said guide for life was something he simply wasn’t prepared to do. It wasn’t so many years ago that the whole concept of sentinels and guides was one of suspicion and misunderstandings. Sentinels themselves were considered as either supermen or freaks, depending on one’s point of view, whilst the need for guides was considered by many non-sentinels (or mundanes) as an excuse for some sort of legalised sex-slave, and consequently many guides were treated accordingly.

Recent years had seen a vast improvement in attitude such that Sentinels were now considered to be an asset to the community, especially in services such as the military, the police force and other law enforcement agencies, rescue services and healthcare, and their guides’ supporting roles were understood to be of far greater importance than previously realised. A whole government Department for Sentinel / Guide Affairs, complete with regulatory body and specialised health care and psychological assessment had been created with a view to maximising the potential of these gifted individuals.

These developments notwithstanding, Jim still couldn’t see his way to binding another person to him for the rest of his (and his guide’s) natural life, so continued to ignore all attempts by the captain of his police department, Simon Banks of the Major Crimes Unit, to try to get him to attend social ‘mixers’ designed to pair up potential bonded partnerships.

As an ex-military officer with outstanding credentials, Jim was a very private individual who, once having joined the PD on returning to his home city of Cascade, found himself and his talents eminently suited to the type of undercover operation for which the MCU found itself particularly successful.

This latest operation, which was threatening to drive Jim to distraction, was a complicated joint operation between the MCU, Vice and the FBI in an attempt to infiltrate and eventually bring down the wide-ranging criminal network run by one Vittorio Galbini. Although superficially a highly respected member of the Cascade business community, with more than a little influence on the local political and social scenes, Jim and his colleagues knew Galbini for the ruthless and amoral low-life that he really was: one who was knee-deep in illegal drug dealing, arms smuggling and prostitution over an area stretching from Cascade to Vancouver. Only his tight control over his associates and henchmen, maintained through a combination of bribery, corruption, blackmail, and, where necessary, torture and murder, ensured the continuation of his empire thus far.

Recently, however, flaws in the security and set up of one or two of Galbini’s larger deals had come to the attention of the FBI, one of whose agents had been in deep cover for several months, such that it was deemed appropriate to get the joint venture underway with a view to finally taking the evil bastard’s empire down and him with it.

Thus it was that Captain Banks from MCU and Captain Sullivan from Vice, along with Special Agent Matthews from the FBI and their department colleagues had hammered out a plan to infiltrate Galbini’s closest gangland associates by setting up Jim Ellison as a potential client for a large drug shipment for his carefully created fictional set up in the Seattle area.

Once inside Galbini’s inner circle, Jim was to get the man’s trust and collect as much information as possible in as short a time as practical to take the operation down.

This then was the reason for Jim’s current tiredness. He’d been watching the comings and goings of Galbini’s closest associates for days now, along with fellow detectives Rafe and H amongst others, using his heightened senses to track and record the various negotiations with a view to obtaining the widest possible base of information before approaching his target. Once he had as much information as feasible under the circumstances, he professed himself ready to act, and began the subtle negotiations to get himself accepted as a potential business partner.

*

Two days later, under the guise of being introduced as a potential customer by the undercover agent, Jim found himself in the company of Galbini and a few of his closest henchmen, calmly taking the first steps in creating the fictional drug deal. The background research gathered by his colleagues and himself stood him in good stead, as did his hard-ass attitude and calculated air of menace, such that he found himself quickly in favour, so much so that he was invited to stay at Galbini’s mansion in the Cascade suburbs for an evening of entertainment before closing the ‘deal’.

While he was well aware of Galbini’s varied criminal activities, Jim didn’t possess much information regarding the gang lord’s personal whims and vices, other than to know that he wasn’t averse to indulging himself in the comforts available through his connections with prostitution. However, even as hardened an officer as Jim undoubtedly was, he was almost taken aback with shock when, after a gourmet dinner, complete with brandy and cigars, Jim was shown into Galbini’s large and expensively furnished den to find out what the proposed evening’s entertainment was to be.

Kneeling submissively on the rug in front of Galbini’s sumptuous couch was one of the most beautiful boys Jim had ever seen. Very slender, with curly dark auburn hair, the boy appeared small in stature, and was virtually naked, wearing little more than a skimpy loincloth and a leather bondage-style harness complete with collar, wrist and ankle cuffs. His beautiful, but completely masculine, face was down-turned, eyes fixed on the floor at a point in front of his knees, and it didn’t take sentinel senses to make out the fine tremors running through the slight frame. Although his face was unmarked, there was ample evidence of abuse, sexual and otherwise, in the many marks and fading bruises on his skin. Jim found himself at once horrified at the boy’s condition, and ashamed to feel a growing arousal at the sight before him. Wrenching his gaze away from the tempting morsel, he looked at Galbini, whilst raising a quizzical eyebrow at his host, who was grinning in vicious glee at his guest’s reaction.

“So, you like my pet?” he said, taking a sip of expensive brandy. “He is my favourite – completely under my control, but I’m not averse to lending him out for the night to my chosen friends. He will do anything you want – all I request is that he comes to no permanent harm, and that you don’t mark his face. Otherwise he’s yours to use for the night if you want him.”

Struggling to take control of the situation in which he found himself, Jim took his time answering, giving the appearance of cold calculation, whilst fighting down a feeling of inner panic. He couldn’t turn down Galbini’s offer without seriously offending the man. This was obviously a sign of acceptance into the favoured inner circle, not to be passed over, but how in god’s name was he going to carry it off? Shrugging, he smirked at his host, and asked if he could retire immediately to enjoy an early night. Galbini laughed harshly, appreciating what he thought to be a man after his own heart, and waving his arm expansively, wished his guest a good night. Turning to the kneeling slave, he snapped his fingers imperiously. The boy rose gracefully to his feet and approached Jim, eyes still downcast, and held out the leash attached to his collar for Jim to take. Grasping the leather as offered, Jim nodded to his host and turned for the door with the boy following quietly behind him.

On reaching the luxurious guestroom assigned to him for the night, Jim shut the door behind them and turned to study his unwanted guest. The first thing he realised was that the boy wasn’t really as young as he’d first thought, although he’d be surprised if he was much over twenty years old. Lifting the young man’s chin, he was also startled by a glimpse, swiftly concealed, of the most beautiful deep blue eyes he could remember seeing – eyes in whose depths you could lose yourself. He was also well aware that the young man was terrified, but totally compliant, so that it was obvious that he had been conditioned, most likely quite brutally, to submit to whatever was demanded of him. More surprising still was the first faint buzz of a connection between them, although Jim chose to ignore it for the time being.

“You have no reason to believe me, kiddo,” he murmured, “But I have no intention of hurting you.” He was pleased to be rewarded by a swift, incredulous glance from his companion, and was moved to reach out to grip the boy’s shoulder. The effect was immediate and startling, as the boy fell to his knees and dropped his head onto his outstretched arms in the most submissive posture possible. “Sorry, so sorry, please, don’t hurt me,” came the almost silent plea, while his trembling became pronounced.

“Hey, ssh, ssh...it’s OK, I’m not mad,” Jim hastened to reassure him. “Look at me, kid,” he commanded gently. “It really is OK, just get up for me?”

Totally obedient, the young man shot to his feet, and was surprised to be taken into Jim’s arms and held gently but firmly against a strong chest. For the first time in an age he felt a measure of safety, although bitter experience prevented him from indulging in any sense of complacency. Having said that, when Jim gently wound his hand into the soft curls and raised the kid’s face up, they were both startled by a second, sudden, and stronger (and entirely mutual), feeling of oneness – a tingling sensation which seemed to spread between their close-pressed bodies.

“Oh crap,” was Jim’s immediate reaction, unable to ignore the evidence in front of his eyes. “You’re an empath, aren’t you? A guide also...! Shit! This can’t be happening!”

The youngster’s face crumpled in despair. “I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to – please forgive me – it just happened – please...” he babbled on. Jim’s heart broke at the total defeat and terror in the kid’s whole demeanour. “Hey, look, it’s not as bad as you think, but this isn’t the time or the place to have this discussion. I don’t have anything but my word to offer you to make you believe me, but I can and will get you out of this if you want to go, but there are conditions which I’m in no position to compromise right now. You’re an empath, though, right? So you should be able to tell if I’m telling you the truth, right?”

Holding the wide-eyed gaze, he tried to project as much sincerity as he could while placing both hands on the slender shoulders. After a long moment, the boy sighed and nodded once before lowering his eyes again. Releasing the breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding, Jim smiled slightly and took his hand to lead him towards the king-sized bed, where he sat himself down on the edge.

The young man stiffened briefly again, then hurried to Jim to drop down gracefully on his knees between Jim’s wide-spread thighs. “I’ll do anything you want, anything...” he promised.

“Because no doubt you’d be severely punished if you failed, wouldn’t you?” Jim finished gently, to be answered by a tiny nod. Holding on to his outrage at the boy’s treatment by the merest thread of control, Jim took stock of the situation.

No way could he fill the boy in on his plans, even if he was certain of the kid’s sincerity. He was far better off not knowing anything – what he didn’t know couldn’t be given up under duress. However, Jim could at least give his unsolicited companion a better night than expected.

Pulling the slender body towards him again, he nibbled the delicate skin of the elegant neck above the leather collar. Delighted to discover the two hoops piercing the left earlobe, he was nearly overwhelmed by the other’s intoxicating scent, even overlaid by the sour stench of anxiety. Unable to resist the pull of his senses, he licked the tender skin behind the well-shaped ear, earning himself a tiny moan of pleasure from the boy in his arms. Forcibly wrenching his reactions under tight control, he murmured quietly into the boy’s ear under the guise of seductive nuzzling. “I’m serious about not hurting you, kiddo, but I’m happy to give the impression of having a good time, as I dare say your boss isn’t averse to a bit of voyeurism, eh?” He was fully aware that his senses felt sharper and more focussed than he could ever remember, so he could easily make out a couple of potential peep-holes or camera placements in the wall above the bed whilst the lack of any electrical signatures suggested that there was no audio equipment installed.

He wasn’t entirely surprised by the boy’s timid assent, but was more than infuriated by the further information offered. “My Master likes to watch, and lets Sean and Marco watch also. Usually when there’s more than one guest to be entertained, he drugs me before they use me, so I don’t remember too much, but sometimes he likes me to be aware, like tonight, and always when he gives me to Sean and Marco to play with...” and he tailed off, cheeks pinking with shame.

“Jeez, kiddo,” snarled an enraged Jim, briefly forgetting for the moment that the empath probably thought he was to blame, only to hug the slender body closer. “Hush, now,” he whispered, rubbing soothing circles on the shaking back. “I’m not mad at you, only at those animals.” His thoughts flashed to the two goons the young man had named; recalling their sneering arrogance and smug confidence in their boss’s approval. Sean was a thickset and sandy-haired Irishman, standing around six feet tall, and heavily muscled, a scrapper; whilst Marco was of Mediterranean descent; dark and a couple of inches taller than Jim’s six feet two inches. His muscles were just as noticeable, but leaner and supple, more like those of a martial arts specialist. Both looked big and mean, and Jim was certain that they were more than happy to inflict their sadistic pleasures on the boy in his arms.

Coming to a decision, Jim pushed the young man away from him a little, while placing his hands on the thin shoulders. “I’m going to the bathroom to get ready for bed, so why don’t you take off that monstrosity” – indicating the leather chest harness – “and get yourself comfortable under the covers. I’ll be back in a few, OK?” Receiving a tiny nod in response, he stood up and stepped towards the bathroom, pulling off his tie on the way. As he made his way across the floor, he caught a fleeting scent of saline before hearing the boy stripping away the hated harness. Rather than drawing attention to his companion’s tears, he closed the bathroom door behind him and utilised the facilities before stripping down to his boxers.

Pausing briefly to give the young man time to get settled, he stepped from the bathroom, turning off the overhead lights as he went. Figuring that not only would the dim glow from the small night light deter the voyeurs, but would also offer some vestige of privacy to the kid, he moved towards the bed; his sentinel vision allowing him to study the worried face looking towards him from the large pillows. Guessing correctly that the boy would be unnerved by his silent approach, he whispered in reassurance. “Ssh, it’s OK. I’m not going to pounce on you, Chief!” So saying, he slipped under the bedclothes to find that his companion had removed both harness and loincloth, and lay beside him wearing nothing but the collar and cuffs. Murmuring soothing nonsense words, he opened his arms to the boy, and was more than pleased when the kid scooted over to nestle against him. He settled the curly head against his shoulder, and recommenced the soothing circles over the soft skin of the bony back. Viciously curbing his desire to vent on feeling the many imperfections and scars that his sentinel touch picked up with ease, he gently turned the body in his arms so that he could straddle the slim form.

“Easy, Chief,” he whispered, aware of the boy’s sudden tension. “I’m just going to make this look good for the audience, OK?” So saying, he eased down to finally claim the succulent mouth offered shyly to him, to find the taste as addictive as he hoped. Gently deepening the kiss, without frightening the young man, he rolled them both over again so that the smaller body was on top.

“Still OK, Chief?” he asked, looking up into the beautiful face. The boy looked astounded, with so many emotions crossing his face. He looked nervous, hopeful, inquisitive and submissive in rapid succession.

Blair knew in his heart of hearts that he was a fool to believe in the good intentions of this stranger, but, oh, he so wished he could. He was mortified to feel his eyes filling with tears, especially as he had become accustomed to being either punished or reviled for such shows of weakness by his Master. However, far from the expected punishment, he found himself cuddled close again, with a gentle hand around his neck pulling his face down to nuzzle into Jim’s neck.

“Don’t sweat it, Chief,” murmured his new friend – and, yes, he was beginning to feel that this really could be a friend – “If you feel able to tell me your name, it’d be a good start. Or then, I guess you’ve been told not to speak it, huh?” Jim wasn’t surprised to feel the slight nod in response, so he changed his line of questioning.

“Are you going to tell me how you got here, Chief?” he asked, “Or is that out of bounds too?”

Again unsurprised to feel a slight nod, he didn’t push it. “It’s OK, Chief, really, don’t sweat it. We’ll have plenty of time to catch up once you’re out of here. And I DO mean to get you out of here....” He knew very well that the youngster was probably too traumatised to believe him, but he vowed to himself that he was definitely going to get his guide – yes, HIS guide, out of this situation as soon as humanly possible.

“Get some sleep, kiddo,” he whispered, kissing the top of the curly head under his chin. “I’m going to have to go tomorrow, but I will be back.”

As Blair settled down against the muscled chest, he allowed himself for once to think back over the last few months....

*

Previous April:-

Blair bounced across the campus of Rainier University, having finally submitted his Master’s Thesis at the tender age of twenty. He was looking forward to the Easter break, as he had worked non-stop to get his paper submitted in good time so he could have a few days of complete relaxation before preparing for the next expedition with his friend and mentor, the renowned anthropologist, Dr Eli Stoddard.

He felt as if everything was finally coming together for him, after a short lifetime of uncertainty, following his itinerant, hippy Mom from place to place around the world.

He had no idea of his father’s identity, since Naomi, his Mom, insisted that she had no idea who he was. She merely declared that it mattered not, since her child was a child of the world, with no need for an acknowledged father. Because of that, Blair had done his best to fit in wherever they ended up, with whatever new ‘Dad’ or ‘Uncle’ his Mom fetched up with.

Sometimes it worked out OK, but other times weren’t so good, especially when said ‘Uncle’ preferred the charms of the son over those of the mother. Not that he would have confessed this to Naomi. He always felt as if he should protect her, rather than the other way around.

The only constant in his life was his indubitable intelligence, and his overwhelming desire to study and acquire as much information as his inquisitive nature could absorb.

Seizing upon every book he could get his hands on, he was also drawn to observe closely every different culture with which he came into contact, such that it was no surprise that he began to long to study anthropology seriously.

Thus it was that, at the tender age of 16, he managed to persuade his mother to let him test for early entry to Rainier University in Cascade, whose anthropology programme held particular appeal for to the teen due to the presence of the famous Dr Eli Stoddard.

Testing out easily, and with all the potential of a genuine wunderkind, Blair was accepted by the board with open arms, and Naomi cheerfully detached from her only child, and went on her way unencumbered once again.

Enormously excited at first, Blair soon found out how hard it could be for a super-smart sixteen-year-old, who was both smaller and at least two years younger than his peers. Gradually becoming more and more disheartened, despite the glowing reports of his teachers, he was on the point of calling his Mom and giving up the struggle when he was discovered by the great man, Dr Stoddard, himself. Eli was enchanted by the youngster’s charm and intelligence, and hugely flattered by the boy’s hero-worship, such that he happily took Blair under his wing and encouraged the boy’s growing interest in anthropology. Treating as the son Eli never had, Blair found himself supported and encouraged unstintingly, and reciprocated with all that he had.

Having come across an old monograph by Sir Richard Burton, the Victorian explorer, Blair focussed his attention on Sentinel studies, and, having raced through his undergraduate degree by the age of nineteen, he threw himself into his Master’s thesis on the subject of tribal Sentinels.

On a whim, he had submitted to genetic testing to see if he possessed any Guide genes, but had yet to hear the results when the kidnapping occurred.

Crossing the parking lot on the way to his cheap digs, he was taken by surprise by a dark-coloured van with obscured windows pulling up in front of him. Idly supposing that the driver needed directions, Blair was initially unworried when the passenger door opened in front of him, only to startle in fright as heavy hands gripped his arms and a sweet-smelling cloth was clamped over his nose.

He knew nothing more until he finally woke up, head aching and nausea roiling in his belly, to find himself lying naked and bound on a cot in a small, virtually unfurnished room. Hell for Blair had started right then.

As time went on, he began to understand that he had been targeted by a crime lord who had seen him working in a bar during one of his part-time jobs intended to supplement his student grants. This crime lord, Galbini, had obsessed on the beautiful bartender, to the extent that he had looked into the young man’s background and had discovered that, despite his academic achievements, the boy actually had no family ties per se except for some ditzy, absentee Mom, so he was unlikely to be missed any time soon.

A brutal training regime commenced, which stripped Blair of all he had been, and reduced him to a compliant, nameless sex-slave totally under Galbini’s domination. Not even allowed the freedom to end his own life, Blair was tended to by one of Galbini’s goons, his many injuries treated by Galbini’s tame Doctor, and lent out to any and every potential business client Galbini wished to impress.

He had undergone every form of abuse his ‘clients’ wished to perform on him, the only restrictions being that Galbini refused to let them mark his face, and they were not allowed to permanently damage him, otherwise, anything went.

Frequently dosed with ‘Roofies’ (the date-rape drug, Rohypnol) when appropriate, at least on those occasions Blair was mercifully unaware of the abuse until the following morning, when he awoke to the ministrations of Galbini’s doctor.

Occasionally, though, when he was being played with by Galbini himself or his particular favourites, like Sean and Marco, he was kept awake and aware of every hurt and depraved act.

No longer aware of the passage of time, only existing from day to day, Blair had become totally subservient and controlled to the point of denying his own name, until, this evening; a man had arrived who seemed to be the answer to each and every one of Blair’s prayers.

*

The following morning Jim awoke early, having passed a disturbed and watchful night. He had seen, as expected, the careful cracking open of the door, and the silent and gloating gaze of both Galbini and Sean. Pretending to be asleep, Jim kept the covers tucked high over the shoulders of the sleeping boy. He had no intention of letting their lecherous glances sweep over his soon-to-be Guide, even though he was unhappily aware that he wouldn’t be able to take the kid with him when he left in the morning.

It would be up to him to get the operation up and running as soon as possible so he could get back to collect his Guide.

As he slipped out of bed to use the bathroom, he was just stepping into the shower when he heard the slight disturbance caused by the boy being unceremoniously dragged out of bed by his keeper.

Jim exited the bathroom to see the boy, leashed once again, led from the room without a backward glance. Once again adopting his submissive demeanour, the young man didn’t dare look back. It had been a wonderful interlude – one to treasure in the coming months until he either succeeded in killing himself, or some overly-aggressive ‘client’ did it for him.

Forcing himself not to react out of character for his adopted persona, Jim quietly returned to the bathroom to finish his ablutions, and dressed for the day while extending his hearing as far as he could to monitor the heartbeat of his designated Guide.

*

A couple of hours later he left Galbini’s mansion following a sumptuous breakfast (which almost choked him), with declarations of friendship and gestures of bonhomie on all sides.

Sauntering to his rented SUV, Jim wryly congratulated himself on his icy control, when all he wanted to do was run back inside the mansion, gun blazing, to seize and rescue his Guide.

*

A little later still, having ensured he hadn’t been followed, he was back at the PD running through all that had happened during his stay at the mansion (but omitting the details of the night spent with his guide-to-be).

It was decided that he should follow through with the planned meet with Galbini’s team, set for that afternoon at an isolated warehouse, so that the arrest could go down with all sides taken in flagrante.

As it happened, the take-down went far more smoothly than Jim and the rest of MCU could have foreseen, thanks to the minute detail provided by the inside men. Special Agent Matthews and Captains Banks and Sullivan would be more than content to relay to the Chief of Police and the powers-that-be that there were more than a few of Galbini’s inner circle rounded up at the bust, including his ‘money man’, who had been along for the negotiations. Added to that another couple of minor gang lords and the representatives of at least two other major crime families, and the operation could be considered to be a complete success, especially with no casualties to the ‘good guys’.

It was only when the perps were being cuffed and loaded into the vans that Jim realised that, not only was Galbini not present, but neither were his favourite bodyguards, Sean and Marco.

Suddenly concerned, Jim called to his Captain. “Simon, there are some missing faces here. I’m surprised that Galbini didn’t show in person, and his closest bodyguards are missing too. I need to go back to his place, now!”

Unaware of the real reason for his subordinate’s concern, Banks wasn’t particularly inclined to be cooperative, but in view of Jim’s contribution to a hugely successful bust, he was prepared to cut his best detective some slack. So saying, he hurried to his sedan with Jim hot on his heels, and, calling over his shoulder to the rest of his team to follow as soon as possible, he peeled out of the yard and headed for Galbini’s mansion.

On arrival at the gates, Jim hurriedly identified himself to the voice activated security system under his assumed alias, and Simon drove carefully up to the front doors, trying to avoid suspicion until the last moment.

Once there, both men climbed out of the car, and, swiftly taking charge of the situation, Jim extended his hearing to locate the already-beloved heartbeat of his new Guide. Locating it with those of at least two others in the direction of Galbini’s den, he was concerned to hear that the Guide’s heartbeat was rapid and accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of panic and pain.

“This way,” he snapped to his Captain, and took off without waiting for a response. Seeing that there didn’t appear to be any particular opposition in the immediate area, Simon followed the detective to the ornate doors of what was apparently Galbini’s inner sanctum.

The tableau that greeted them seemed to be frozen for a few vital seconds before all hell broke loose.

Jim saw his Guide, dressed like a party boy in skin-tight leather pants and cropped sleeveless tee, gripped tightly by his upper arms by Marco, who was holding him still for Sean to grope at will. Galbini, cigar in hand and a predatory smirk on his face, looked on approvingly at the boy’s distress. New marks and bites visible on the kid’s arms and torso suggested to Jim that he had been given to the goons to play with after Jim had left, probably to make up for the lack of action in the bedroom last night.

Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, the men in the room became aware of the cops’ presence and sprang into action. Sean, turning to face the pair whilst reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster, refused to comply with Jim’s, “Freeze, Cascade Police!” and paid the price with a bullet through the heart.

Seeing his colleague slump to the floor with blood already soaking his chest, Marco took the sensible route, and raised both hands in surrender.

Galbini, however, had no such intention, and swiftly grabbed his toy to him.

Holding Blair tightly to his chest, he ground the barrel of a 9mm pistol against the delicate skin of the boy’s temple. “Drop the guns or he dies!” he snarled, and the two cops had no trouble believing in his complete sincerity. Jim glanced into the boy’s face, and automatically catalogued the expression of pain and eyes wide with a world of fear and hurt. Biting his full bottom lip in an effort not to cry out, Blair begged silently for rescue.

Dragging his captive slowly backwards with him, Galbini repeated his threat, growing more impatient at Jim’s lack of cooperation. Suddenly, Blair abruptly decided that he was totally unable to permit his Sentinel to be hurt because of him, so, with a look of resignation crossing his face, he glanced apologetically at Jim before going completely limp in Galbini’s arms. Distracted by the sudden dead weight unbalancing him, Galbini was left momentarily open to Jim’s shot, which he took with sentinel precision, drilling Galbini cleanly through the left eye. The crime lord dropped without a further sound, taking Blair down with him.

Swiftly covering the few yards between them, Jim kicked the gun away from the lifeless hand, and dropped to a crouch beside his Guide.

Blair seemed to take a few moments to realise that he was still alive and freed from his ex Master’s grip. When the truth dawned, Jim could easily read the expression of shock and reaction that crossed the youthful face as the trembling started, and the boy launched himself into his Sentinel’s open arms.

Clinging like a limpet to Jim’s shirt, and burying his face against the broad chest, he gave himself up to the hysterical tears clamouring to escape and sobbed uncontrollably for many minutes while Simon looked on in disgust, having cuffed Marco and handed him over to the newly-arrived backup.

Eventually, Simon spoke to his best detective.

“Come on now, Jim. It’s time to hand him over for processing and printing....” He got no further, and was taken aback with Jim’s snarled response. “Mine! My Guide! No one touches him without my say-so! He’s a victim, not one of them, and he goes with me!”

‘Oh, holy crap!’ thought Simon. This situation had the makings of his worst nightmare. Having denied the necessity of taking a guide for so long, his best detective appeared to have fully imprinted on possibly the most unsuitable candidate in Simon’s view. He gritted his teeth, unsuccessfully trying to wipe the disbelief and disgust from his face as he watched the big cop cuddling the sobbing, slutty boytoy to his chest.

From day one on the job, Jim had proved to be a taciturn, hard-assed loner, whose attitude was tolerated mainly because of his dedication to duty and his impressive arrest and closure rate. Unwilling to put up with support from temporary guides unless in extreme circumstances, it seemed that he was now completely fixated on the scrap of humanity in his arms. The situation, in Simon’s opinion, couldn’t really get much worse, but, if the new bond was as strong as it appeared to be, he feared that he had little chance of prying the two apart.

Taking several deep breaths to calm himself down, Simon addressed the semi-feral sentinel in his most conciliatory tone, suggesting that he take the kid to get checked out at the hospital, then bring him back to the PD to take his statement for the wrap-up. Already anticipating Jim’s refusal, he hurriedly added that it would be a good thing to get the boy’s prints and photo so they could be run through ‘Missing Persons’ if the traumatised youngster was unable to provide his name and history right now.

Seeing the sense of this argument, Jim nodded once, and, gathering the slight figure to him, he left the room, oblivious of the questioning glances from the other police personnel who had arrived in the aftermath of the shooting.

Tucking the trembling and silent young man close to his side, Jim commandeered one of the squad cars to give them a ride to the Sentinel / Guide unit at Cascade General, where he knew that his new Guide would get checked out with the least amount of additional trauma.

During the ride to the hospital, Jim ignored the glances of the uniforms in front, and concentrated on sending calming and supportive thoughts to the kid tucked into his side. The boy had yet to speak a word, only responding to Jim’s gentle enquiries regarding his condition with small nods and shakes of his head when appropriate.

Now apparently free from Galbini’s clutches, Blair was unable as yet to fully grasp his new situation. He understood that the big man beside him was apparently a detective at the PD, not one of Galbini’s criminal acquaintances as he had first believed.

What he also understood deep in the very core of his being, was that this man was his Sentinel, and that he had already been imprinted and claimed as Guide.

However, what should have been one of the most glorious moments of his young life had been rendered virtually worthless. How could any Sentinel, let alone a police detective, have any need for a crime lord’s abused ex-sex slave? His always low self-esteem was now non-existent, and he was sure that, once given the opportunity to consider the true extent of his folly, the Sentinel would abandon him to a life of drug-controlled empathic misery.

Lost in his thoughts, he was startled when Jim shook him slightly to warn him of their arrival at the hospital.

On entering, the staff, well used to dealing with over-protective sentinels, gently took the pair to an examination room, where a sympathetic elderly doctor waited to check Blair over.

Knowing full well that there was no point in even suggesting that Jim wait outside, the grey-haired, kindly-looking man introduced himself to the pair.

“I’m Dr Stevens,” he said gently. “May I look at you, son?” This question was directed as much to Jim as to the Guide as part of accepted Sentinel / Guide protocol.

Receiving a nod of consent from Jim, he approached the young Guide, whose pale face had suddenly flushed with embarrassment and shame.

It was more than obvious what type of injuries the doctor was going to encounter as the young man peeled off his tight clothing with the help of his Sentinel, but Dr Stevens was no innocent when coming face-to-face with all types of situations, so he was able to address the boy calmly.

Once all his clothes were removed, including the ever present collar and cuffs, Jim was enraged to see that, not only were the boy’s torso and buttocks covered with new marks and bruises, but Galbini had had the boy’s neck, wrists and ankles tattooed with chains, so that, even without the leather coverings, his status as ‘slave’ would be plain for all to see.

Knowing that his new Guide was fully aware of his anger, Jim fought to control his disgust in an effort to comfort the boy, who was hunched in on himself in shame.

Watching the pair shrewdly, the doctor was astonished to see the depth of connection between them, although he had already been made aware that they hadn’t even fully bonded yet in the full sexual act. The sheer strength of the nascent bond already outmatched many a fully bonded pair, so Stevens was fairly certain he was watching an alpha pairing in the making. Such a pity that the young Guide was in such poor shape physically, and surely emotionally also.

Shaking himself, he gently moved to examine the boy, and was not surprised when the big detective made it plain he was staying in the room.

After a full examination, including the unpleasant intimate rectal probe, which the doctor did his best to make as quick and the least traumatic possible, he encouraged the young Guide to sit up and dress in the scrubs and paper shoes which the Sentinel had commandeered since the obnoxious leather clothes had already been bagged for transport to the PD’s forensics lab for trace evidence against Marco and the deceased Sean and Galbini.

He then suggested that Blair lie down for a few minutes to try to relax a little while he quietly pulled Jim aside for a consultation.

He was well aware that the Sentinel had already scanned the Guide, and was probably at least as aware of the boy’s injuries as the doctor himself, but Stevens wanted to catalogue the list fully anyway so that there would be no misunderstanding as to the severity of his patient’s condition.

Beginning with the numerous welts and bruises, he confirmed that there had been many savage beatings, with newer bruises overlaying the old, but none severe enough to be life-threatening; rather intended to inflict the maximum pain for the minimum damage. The nipples were raw and bruised from rough pinching and biting. Nevertheless, the boy had obviously had reasonably adequate medical treatment after these episodes, and had also received sufficient sustenance to keep him fairly healthy, if conspicuously underweight and somewhat dehydrated.

However, in terms of the rectal exam, it was obvious that Blair had been roughly and frequently penetrated over a lengthy period, and was in some considerable discomfort from the barely healed tears and bruising. Again, he had been patched up to some extent, but the scarring would cause discomfort for some time to come, even when allowed to heal completely. Dr Stevens finished by saying that he had taken blood samples whilst completing the rape kit, and would send them off immediately to the lab to check for STDs or AIDs. All that was left to do was to give Jim the prescription to fill for oral antibiotics and painkillers, and a soothing antiseptic cream for the tender nipples and rectal area. Finally he suggested that Jim try to get the Guide to eat something light before taking him back to the PD for his statement.

Jim listened to the doctor’s advice with a commendable amount of attention, whilst keeping his senses firmly anchored on his Guide. As soon as he heard sounds of small movement coming from the cubicle, he left the doctor’s side and strode to where the young man in question was twisting around on the gurney, muttering under his breath in obvious distress.

“Hey, Chief,” he said softly, gently holding the shaking shoulders in an attempt to wake the boy without startling him. Blair shot up with a gasp, momentarily disorientated, then his wildly darting gaze fixed on Jim’s eyes, and he relaxed a little, much to Jim’s satisfaction.

“Time to get back to the PD,” Jim murmured. “But we’ll get a snack on the way ‘cos I can hear your stomach rumbling from here even without sentinel senses,” he added with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. The youngster offered a tiny grin in return before ducking his head again, almost as if afraid of having responded in such a way. Choosing for now not to make an issue of his Guide’s reaction, Jim took his arm and helped him down off the gurney, keeping hold of his shoulders for a moment or two while Blair found his balance.

Thanking the doctor, who was still waiting outside the cubicle, for his gentleness in treating his Guide, Jim steered his charge towards the pharmacy to pick up the meds before heading back the PD.

Remembering that he had arrived in a squad car, he decided there was no hurry, so after picking up the prescription, he tucked Blair into his side again and headed for the cafeteria. On arrival, Jim sat him in a quiet corner while he purchased some decent-looking chicken soup and a couple of sandwiches along with orange juice for Blair and coffee for himself. Seeing that the young man was drooping with fatigue, he gently encouraged him to eat at least a few bites of the soup and drink the juice, and finished his own food as quickly as possible.

Knowing he could put it off no longer, he helped Blair to his feet again, and almost carried him out to the exit where he hailed a cab to take them back downtown.

As they waited to enter the cab, Jim noticed that, despite the relatively mild day in Cascade terms, the boy was shivering continuously. Deciding that he was probably suffering from a combination of nerves, fatigue and low blood sugar, as well as discomfort over the scanty cover provided by the hospital scrubs, Jim slipped out of his jacket and encouraged him to put it on.

Blair shivered again, this time in delight, as he snuggled into the cosy material, still warm from Jim’s body. This time, as he dozed off in the back of the cab, he could almost imagine himself wrapped in his Sentinel’s arms, warm and secure, just like last night before he had been dragged away again in the early morning and given to Sean and Marco to play with.

Forcibly trying to concentrate his mind on the positive, he recalled how Jim had come back for him, just as he’d promised, and had taken down Galbini and Sean to save him. Now all he had to do was be as good as he could be to prove himself worthy of being chosen as Guide to such an amazing man. Burying his face in Jim’s sleeve, he settled down to try and catch a nap, basking in the comfort of his growing love for his Sentinel, augmented by a hefty dose of hero-worship.

Jim smiled at the small figure pressed up close to his side, pleased at this proof that the youngster was beginning to trust him, despite his awful recent past. Jim was determined to find out as much as he could about him in as short a time as possible in order to start cementing their partnership. Although he didn’t even know his Guide’s name yet, Jim was determined that he would come to live with him at his loft apartment where he would be protected and cherished, and he would do his level best to help him get back as much as he realistically could of the engaging young man Jim was sure he must have been before his kidnapping.

Settling back in his seat for the short drive, Jim closed his eyes for a few minutes’ relaxation before taking the next step in their partnership.

*

On arrival at the PD, Jim shook his Guide gently awake and helped him out of the cab, totally oblivious of the strange look he was getting from the driver. Handing over the fare, plus a good tip, he tucked his Guide under his arm again in a gesture which was already feeling familiar and comfortable to them both.

He was aware of Blair’s increasing nervousness as they reached the elevator, and when they were joined by a couple of uniforms, Blair couldn’t stop himself from grasping a fistful of Jim’s shirt, while hiding his face against his Sentinel’s sleeve. A deep growl and intimidating glare from Jim prevented the uniforms from making any untoward comments or approaches to his new Guide, and when they reached the sixth floor he pushed Blair in front of him towards the MCU bullpen.

On opening the door, the immediate hush and the curious attention centred on the new arrivals by the rest of the officers had Blair stopping dead in his tracks, and whipping round, looking for the nearest escape as his fight or flight reflex kicked in. Reacting even faster, Jim grabbed his fleeing Guide, and reeled him back in, pulling the young man to his chest and tucking the shaking Guide’s face into his shoulder.

Taking the hint, the more sensitive of his colleagues turned their attention elsewhere in an effort to relieve the tension and offer a little privacy, although others smirked in ill-concealed glee at the sight of the ‘Hard-ass Ellison’ cuddling his Guide like a baby.

Snarling in irritation, Jim headed for his desk, where he pushed Blair gently into an empty seat by the wall, keeping the smaller figure protectively behind him, and placing himself between his Guide and the rest of the bullpen.

After a short pause, a large African American detective with a friendly face approached the pair, hands held out unthreateningly.

“Hey, Jim.” Captain Joel Taggert, erstwhile leader of the Bomb Squad hitched his hip on the edge of Jim’s desk, although he made no overt move towards the young man trying to make himself one with the wall behind him. “Just wanted to introduce myself to your new Guide, and to say how glad I am that you’ve found each other at last.” Joel’s cousin had been a Sentinel, but, never having found his Guide, and refusing medication to ease his pain when his senses eventually went out of control, the man had killed himself rather than exist without a companion. Joel was a good man, and his congratulations were sincere, as was the welcome he extended towards the newcomer.

Tamping down his instinctive urge to get up in Joel’s face, Jim the Sentinel forced himself to bring his rational self to the fore, in view of his genuine liking for the man, and the knowledge that Joel would never pose a threat to a fragile youngster such as Blair.

Extending a hand backwards to his Guide, Jim urged him forward away from the wall. Easing Blair up to his side he gently introduced the Captain as a good friend and colleague. Jim’s easy acceptance convinced Blair of the man’s trustworthiness, so he smiled shyly, after glancing sideways at his Sentinel to make sure he was interpreting the situation correctly.

Joel was overjoyed with the response, as was Jim himself, especially in view of the Guide’s previous reaction on entering the bullpen. When Joel extended his hand in greeting, Blair gazed at it for a moment then looked up to see his Sentinel’s approving nod. Swallowing hard, he extended his own smaller hand, which shook visibly, and briefly squeezed Joel’s large paw before withdrawing quickly and stepping behind Jim’s broad back. Jim and Joel exchanged knowing glances, both understanding the significance behind the small gesture in re-establishing the Guide’s sense of self-esteem.

Unfortunately, the effect was negated almost immediately when a loud voice bellowed forth from Captain Banks’ office. “Ellison, my office, now! And bring the kid with you!”

Blair shot backwards in fright, collided with the wall and hunkered down, folding his arms over his head. Glaring furiously at his Captain, Jim knelt in front of the shaking figure, while Joel walked up to Simon, his normally genial face scowling in displeasure. “For God’s sake, Simon, can’t you cut them a little slack? You know what that boy’s been through, and whether you like it or not, he’s well on his way to being Jim’s bonded Guide. The Sentinel Director himself told me just now that even at this early stage it would probably be impossible to part them without some serious psychological damage to them both. You’ll just have to live with it if you want to keep Detective Ellison in the department.”

“Don’t lecture me, Joel,” Simon snarled at his friend. “The way I feel at the moment, I may well prefer not to have Ellison on my team if it also means putting up with that little hippy freak pretty boy--”

“Simon!” Joel responded in shock. “You can’t mean that! I’ve known you for years, and I simply don’t believe you can be so intolerant!”

Simon had the grace to look uncomfortable, but didn’t change his tone, except to quieten it down a little.

“When you’re quite ready, Detective...” he said, turning away to go back into his office.

“You may as well come in too, Joel,” he added, somewhat ungraciously. “Especially as everyone will have to be brought up to speed sooner or later.”

Joel turned back to face Ellison and the boy, to see that Jim had succeeded in pulling Blair back to his feet. He was murmuring something comforting to the Guide, who had begun to relax somewhat, although still holding tightly on to Jim’s shirt.

Nodding to Joel, Jim tucked Blair into his side as was becoming the norm with them, and headed towards the Captain’s office.

Conversation, which had paused yet again during the latest incident, resumed as the office door closed. Jim tried hard not to eavesdrop on his colleagues, but couldn’t help but listen in. He was surprised to find that, although there were one or two unpleasant remarks regarding fucktoys and cheap sluts, most of the comments were sympathetic and supportive.

Turning his attention back to his Captain, he settled his Guide on one of the chairs in front of the desk, ignoring the brief grimace of distaste from Simon. He glanced up when two others knocked and entered, noting his colleagues and fellow detectives Brian Rafe and Henri (H) Brown. Rafe, dapper and slim, and his cheerful, round-faced African American partner nodded their greeting to Jim and looked inquisitively at the small figure at his side.

“Hey Jim,” the ebullient H addressed him breezily. “Ready to find out a bit about your new Guide? We’ve been looking up his details in Missing Persons.”

“S’OK, kid,” he added, addressing Blair directly in spite of Jim’s affronted frown. “There’s nothing there you should be afraid of,” and he grinned guilelessly, not noticing at first how the youngster was reacting.

Sitting up sharply, Jim nodded his agreement, as eager as any of them to finally hear some of the details his Guide had been too traumatised to reveal up until now, when he suddenly became aware of the kid’s gasping breaths as he worked his way towards a full-blown panic attack.

“No, Chief, not now!” he grated out, gripping both his Guide’s wrists with bruising strength.

The sharp pain pulled Blair back from the edge, and he nodded hurriedly, babbling, “S..s...sorry! ‘M sorry! Please don’t reject me, please! I’ll be good, I swear...!”

“Easy, Chief. It’s OK. I know, it’s just been too much for you in one day, hasn’t it, baby? Ssh now, OK?”

Disregarding the astounded expressions on his colleagues’ faces, Jim was relieved when the young man nodded again, and sat back down, dropping his gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

“Go on, H. It’s OK,” said Jim, jumping in ahead of Simon, who was spluttering in irritation.

“Sure thing, Jim, Captain,” H replied, perching a hip on Simon’s conference table, and opening the slender file in his hands.

“Your man here is called Blair Sandburg. He’s a grad student from Rainier, and a smart one at that. He started there at age sixteen, graduated at the tender age of nineteen, and completed his Masters in Sentinel Studies this April, just before his twenty-first birthday. He was reported missing by a Dr Eli Stoddard a week or so after he handed in his Thesis when he didn’t show at the defence. He’s been missing ever since. It would appear from the testimony of that goon of Galbini’s, Marco Rosa, that Galbini had become obsessed with the kid, so had him picked up straight off the campus. That’s all the info we have until he re-surfaced during Jim’s undercover job.” H finished his report, looking down at Blair’s bowed head, unmistakable compassion in his eyes.

Blair had hunched in on himself, unable to respond until he could get his head round the few baldly-stated phrases that summed up nearly seven months of sheer hell. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all; tell them all about the torture, the brain-washing, and the unending sexual abuse, but had no energy, no will left right now. He just wished to be left in peace, to be allowed to meditate in an effort to come to terms with the trauma of his captivity, but there was no way that was going to happen. Not only was he going to have to make some sort of statement to the authorities, he now had to learn to accommodate a new Sentinel before he had even come to terms with his own newly-awakened empathy. It was all too much, and gripping his head between clenched fists, he rocked backwards and forwards in distress for a few seconds before slumping senseless towards the floor, unaware of his Sentinel’s swift move to catch him before he hit the ground.

“OK, that’s it,” growled Jim with finality. “He’s had more than enough...I’m taking him back to the loft. Sorry, Simon, but you’ll have to tell everyone that they’ll have to wait for my Guide’s testimony until he’s had a chance to get some rest.”

So saying, he scooped up the slender figure, and marched towards the elevators with Joel running interference, and completely ignoring his Captain’s bellowed command for him to return at once.

Guessing that Jim wouldn’t have his truck at the PD, Joel quietly offered to drive the pair back to the loft, and was relieved when Ellison nodded and murmured his agreement. So saying, the three of them descended to the parking garage, where Jim continued to completely ignore the curious stares from the various other cops wandering through the area, no doubt intrigued to see Detective ‘Asshole’ Ellison cradling some kid like a small child. Jim pondered briefly that, although he was hefting his precious bundle with apparent ease, the Guide was no lightweight despite his half-starved condition, so he had the potential to develop into a sturdy, compact man.

When Joel opened the car door for them, he wasn’t surprised when, after settling the still-unconscious Guide into the back seat, Jim climbed in after him to sit with the boy’s head resting on his lap. Understanding that it was not the time to be attempting small-talk, Joel simply pulled out of the garage and headed out to the loft at 852 Prospect.

During the drive, Joel glanced in the rear view mirror at the pair several times to check on their progress, and was charmed to see that Jim was carding his hand gently through the boy’s soft curls, apparently both giving and receiving comfort. He also noted that his friend’s normally stern face had taken on a faintly bemused look, and wore a gentle smile as he gazed down at the sleeping face in his lap. Joel swallowed a small lump in his throat as he contemplated the fortuitous circumstances which had brought the two together. He considered that, by the looks of the young man, he was desperately in need of some TLC and protection, whilst providing the same could be just what Jim Ellison needed to fully integrate his sentinel senses and re-enter the human race after maintaining a rigid aloofness for so long.

On arriving at Prospect, Joel pulled into the nearest parking bay to the entrance to 852, and opened the door for his passengers. Offering to give Jim a helping hand, he wasn’t really surprised when the big man scooped the smaller body up into his arms again, and, with a nod of thanks to Joel, he strode towards the building. Joel didn’t hesitate, but preceded the pair to open the entrance door for them, then pressed the call button for the ancient elevator to take them up to the 3rd floor. Once inside, Joel took the keys for #307 from Jim’s hand, and opened the apartment door for them.

Jim immediately laid his burden down on the couch, and covered him with the afghan from over the back. Turning to Joel, he thanked the man for his help and support, but turned down the offer of further assistance.

“Thanks for everything, Joel, but we’ll be OK for now. I doubt we’ll be in the office for a couple of days. Blair’s going to need some proper down-time, and I’m not sure how we stand as regards bonding leave yet. I guess Simon’s not going to be happy with us, but it’s too bad. The kid’s running on empty, and his head must be a terrifying place right now,” he added, glancing fondly at the sleeping face.

“I understand, Jim,” replied Joel. “Don’t worry about Simon for now; just concentrate on your Guide. For what it’s worth, I think you’ve dropped lucky whatever anyone else may say. I’m positive that he’s a good person, even after such a short acquaintance, and he’ll be good for you. Hell! You’re the best thing that could have happened to him, too!”

“I’m not so sure, Joel, although I appreciate your confidence. It’s not that I could care about anyone else’s opinions about Blair’s ability as my guide, but I’m not sure that I’m the best thing for him. For all I know, he may not even have wanted to be a guide if his life had continued as normal without that bastard kidnapping him!”

“That’s as may be, Jim,” replied Joel, laying a friendly hand on the Sentinel’s shoulder. “But the fact remains that Galbini did kidnap and torture him, and you did come to his rescue, so who’s to argue with the hands you’ve both been dealt? For all you know, this could have been meant to happen, if you believe in Destiny!”

With a short bark of laughter, Jim replied, “Thanks, Joel. Even if you’re talking out your ass, you always sound convincing. I’ll choose to believe that you’re right. It’s good to know at least one person is going to cut us some slack.”

Sobering, Joel murmured, “I think you’ll find there’s a lot more support out there than you think, if you give it a chance. Don’t sell yourself, or your Guide, short, OK? Anyway, I’ll get back to the PD and start pouring oil on Simon’s troubled waters, if you know what I mean…”

So saying, he made his way to the door, and left the loft with a wave to Jim and a brief smile and fond glance at the sleeping figure on the couch.

Thanking the powers that be for good people like Joel Taggert, Jim returned to the couch and sat down on the small chair opposite so he could contemplate his new Guide.

Thinking that he ought to take Blair up to bed, he changed his mind the next instant when he realised how bewildered the young man was going to be to find himself in yet another new situation. The last thing he was going to need right now was to find himself in another new bed with all the connotations that such a location would provoke in his traumatised mind.

No, he decided that he would wait until his Guide woke naturally, then he would feed and clean him up before taking him to bed (and he would take him to bed), only there would be no forcing of the sexual bond until the Guide was good and ready.

In the meantime, he kept himself busy getting out the fixings for a light supper, and sorting out a few garments Blair could wear until they could get something new for him. After sorting out some smallish boxers, a tee shirt, warm socks and a pair of sweats that had shrunk in the wash, Jim checked once again on his charge, only to find that he was still deeply asleep. Realising that Blair must be way more exhausted than he had supposed, Jim left him in peace again, having made the decision that now would be a good time to try and contact that Dr Stoddard who seemed to be the only person other than Blair himself who could provide some background.

Making up his mind, Jim dialled the number for Rainier University, and asked to be connected to Dr Eli Stoddard in the Anthropology Department. Half expecting to be given the brush-off, or to be told that the Professor was out of the country on another field trip, he was pleasantly surprised to be put straight through. The voice answering the phone was a light tenor, youthful sounding, even though Jim was pretty sure the man must be at least entering his early middle age. Introducing himself as Detective Ellison, Major Crimes, he got no further before the voice cut in immediately. “Is this about Blair? Have you found him? Is he all right? It’s been so long, I was beginning to despair--”

“Hold on please, sir, just a minute and I’ll explain,” Jim interrupted the flow of words.

“Yes, we have found Blair Sandburg, but I need to find out something about him. He’s had a pretty rough time, and I’d like to get as much information about him as possible so I can help him--”

“What do you mean, Detective?” Stoddard interjected worriedly. “Why can’t he come back here to the University? He has friends here, and I’ve kept all his things – boxed them up and kept them in my garage until he came back to claim them. He has a place on the Doctoral programme which he can still take up if he gets back here soon--”

“Whoa, there, Professor!” and it was Jim’s turn to cut in again. “Look, I can’t tell you how glad I am that there’s someone out there who still cares about Blair, but I have to explain the situation to you. It’s much more complicated than simply finding a missing student.”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” replied Stoddard with a sigh. “I do understand, Detective, and I promise to listen to everything you have to tell me. It’s just that I’m very fond of that boy. He’s like the son I never had – incredibly smart – he started here at 16, you know – and so full of enthusiasm for anthropology, well, any subject really – and he absorbs information like a sponge – amazing recall too, and bounce! He can talk a mile a minute...!

“Oh! I’m sorry, Detective Ellison. I’m running off again aren’t I?”

Despite his impatience, Jim couldn’t help but smile to himself at the man’s enthusiasm for his Guide. There was obviously a lot of mutual regard and affection between the two. It was a great shame that he was about to ruin the picture Stoddard held for his missing protégé.

“Actually, Dr Stoddard, I’m sorry to have to tell you that Blair isn’t as you remember him. He was kidnapped off campus, as you already know, but he was held by a criminal low-life for nearly seven months until I found him two days ago.” (Two days? Was that all?) Shaking his head and getting himself mentally back on track, Jim continued.

“Anyway, he was treated extremely badly – I don’t think you need to know too much detail at this point – but, suffice it to say he’s really traumatised. He’s staying with me now, and I need to know as much as you can tell me so I can help him to get back some sense of self.”

“How do you mean, staying with you?” Stoddard asked sharply. “Why can’t he come to me? I can help him reintegrate into the doctoral programme and his research--”

“No, Professor,” Jim cut him off again with no little impatience this time. “It’s not going to be as easy as that. I don’t know if Blair ever got tested for the guide gene, but that’s what he is and, well, we sort of imprinted when I found him. He’s my Guide.”

The sense of shock emanating from Stoddard via the phone connection was almost palpable, and Jim braced himself for what he expected to be a shout of denial. What came instead was a whispered, “Oh! Oh Blair, my dear boy. What have you done now?” then, a little louder, “Look, Detective, thank you for telling me this, and letting me know that Blair is alive at least. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to go away now and ‘get my head round this’ as Blair would say. I’ll be in touch again shortly if you’ll leave your number...perhaps I could come and visit him soon?”

“Sure, Professor,” replied Jim affably. “My number is 555 6453. We live at #307, 852 Prospect, if you’d like to call by, but please be aware he won’t seem the same, for a while at least.”

“I understand, and thank you, Detective Ellison. I’ll be in touch,” and with that the connection was broken.

Looking distractedly at the handset clutched in his fist, Jim sat for a moment before replacing it in its cradle. He had a lot to think about, and he knew that how he decided to proceed from now on would have a lasting effect on them both. Knowing full well that he wasn’t the most patient person in the world, nonetheless he was going to have to learn to be calm and supportive whenever humanly possible if his Guide was ever to realise some of his potential. He just hoped he was going to be up to the task.

Heaving a sigh, he returned to the kitchen to continue his preparations for a simple stir fry when he heard slight movements from the couch, and registered the increased heart rate which preceded his Guide’s return to wakefulness. Abandoning the knife and chopping board he hurried over to crouch in front of his new roommate so the first thing Blair would see on opening his eyes would be a familiar face.

“Hey there, you’re up!” he murmured with a smile, and was enchanted by the boy’s reaction. Far from the expected startle, Blair offered a small smile and reached out sleepily to touch Jim’s cheek, which he stroked gently for a second. However, the precious moment of serenity dissolved an instant later when reality kicked in, and the young man visibly reconnected with his fears. Shocked at his audacity, Blair pushed himself back against the couch cushions, half expecting a blow or harsh words at the very least. He was more than surprised when all he received was an encouraging smile from the man before him, and waves of comfort and support flowed into his mind. A tiny voice, ruthlessly suppressed until now, awoke in his brain, whispering that perhaps there really was hope, and that this Sentinel really could be his saviour. It was up to Blair himself to nurture his trust and belief in his new companion, and, for a wondrous moment, Blair allowed himself to embrace this amazing notion.

Smiling in relief at his new Guide’s gradual relaxation, Jim held his hand out in invitation. “Bet you could do with the bathroom, hey?” he asked, unbelievably pleased with the tiny nod and shy smile he received in reply.

“Here you go then, Chief. Let’s get you up and I’ll go fetch the clothes I found for you. You may as well grab a quick shower while you’re at it, then we’ll get something to eat, OK?” As he spoke he matter-of-factly slid his arm around Blair’s waist to support the smaller man’s initial shakiness, and led the way to the bathroom.

“There you go, Chief,” he said, intending to give his charge some privacy, only to stop in the doorway at the sight of Blair’s lost expression. Making no move other than glancing worriedly at Jim, Blair began to tremble again.

Realising immediately what the problem was, Jim stepped forward again and gently took hold of the shaking shoulders. “S’OK, kiddo, look at me,” he commanded softly, tipping Blair’s chin up so he could make eye contact. Taking in the expressions of confusion, shame and guilt which crossed the expressive face in rapid succession, he expressed his own conclusions at the reaction.

“Bet you haven’t been allowed to do anything for yourself for the last few months, have you, Chief?” he murmured gently, getting his answer in the downward glance and the sudden flush of shame that suffused the beautiful features.

“It’s just conditioning, babe,” he continued gently. “It may take a while, but you’ll soon get used to doing your own thing again. Meanwhile, would you like me to give you a hand now? It’s no big deal, and I guess I could do with a shower too.” Not waiting for a response, he turned away without fuss, and turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature automatically. Turning back to face the bemused Guide, he quickly helped him get out of the rumpled scrubs, and pointed him in the direction of the toilet to take care of business, while he turned his back to give the impression of privacy while shedding his own clothing.

Hearing the toilet flush, he reached back and took Blair’s hand to help him step into the tub, stepping in himself right after. After a few moments of simply letting the warm water pour over them, he reached for the shower gel and began to soap up his Guide, tactfully ignoring the immediate tension the action created. Gently continuing his ministrations, he was rewarded by the incremental release of tension in the slender body, until he reached the tender genitals and bottom. Again, ignoring the sharp intake of breath, and Blair’s nervous worrying of his bottom lip, he soaped up and rinsed the areas before continuing to wash himself down. While he did so, he unobtrusively catalogued his Guide’s body. Blair was quite severely underweight, probably weighing in at no more than 130 pounds. He was small in stature, about five feet seven inches, and his ribs and hip bones stood out prominently. His shoulders, although rather bony at present, were surprisingly wide, while waist and hips were narrow. The legs, although again rather thin were shapely and in proportion to the torso, and, combined with the almost too pretty face and long, slender neck, Jim could understand Galbini’s obsession, and wasn’t disappointed on his own behalf that this attractive Guide was now his.

Not worried by the eventual necessity of the sexual bond, Jim had long ago come to terms with his bisexuality, although his occasional dalliances with other men so far were just that – a no-strings-attached means to scratch an itch. Come to think of it, most of his dates with women followed the same pattern, until his ill-fated attempt at marriage to Lieutenant Carolyn Plummer, head of Forensics at the PD. Jim knew that the enterprise had been doomed from the start. Carolyn hated the loft, and had no intention of compromising her career to accommodate any of Jim’s wishes, whilst expecting him to fit in with hers. Finally deciding that the great sex simply wasn’t enough to hold the marriage together, Carolyn filed for divorce, and they returned to being polite professionals in the workplace, which was a far better state of affairs.

Jim was pulled from his musing by the feel of shy hands beginning to wash him down, and he was delighted when his smile of encouragement led to more confident strokes from Blair. It wasn’t until Blair reached the sizable erection that Jim was now sporting that things went downhill again. Blair seemed to freeze for a moment, then, face blanking and eyes downturned, he mechanically sank to his knees in front of his Sentinel.

Knowing what his Guide intended, Jim reached down and pulled the smaller man to his feet.

“No, Chief,” he said firmly, giving the young man a little shake to get his attention. Blair looked up at him, frightened and confused by the reaction.

“Don’t you want me to suck you?” he whispered in a tiny voice.

Jim took a moment to consider his answer because he didn’t want to make his Guide feel any worse than he obviously already did.

“Chief,” he began gently. “I’m certainly not averse to the idea. You’re a really attractive guy, and I’ll look forward to any and everything we get to do together - but now isn’t the time. You’re just acting as you’ve been conditioned to. When we’re both ready to enjoy each other, and when you’re healed, then we’ll reconsider, but I don’t want you to think you have to service me just because we’re together now. The love has to be mutual, OK? I don’t want a bond based on fear and simple duty on your part.”

Pulling the young man into a gentle hug, his erection subsiding, he held on for a few moments until he felt a few tears on his shoulder. “Hey now, it’s OK, really, Chief. Come on, the hot water’s not going to last much longer,” he murmured, turning off the cooling stream and reaching for a large, fluffy towel in which to wrap the slender body. Keeping his tone and actions matter-of-fact, he stepped out of the tub and urged Blair to sit down on the closed lid of the toilet while he used another towel to dry the worst of the water from his Guide’s curls. Swiftly drying himself, he wrapped a towel round his waist, and crouched down to Blair’s eye level. “I’ve got some new clothes here for you, Chief. They’re on the big side, but I figure they’re better than those scrubs. Let’s get you into them, OK?”

So saying he helped Blair stand, and finished patting him dry. He helped the smaller man into the boxers and warm socks, which weren’t that much too big, and the tee shirt which was, hanging down almost to his knees. With a smile he held out the shrunken sweats, which, with the cuffs rolled up a couple of times, and the drawstring pulled tight, didn’t do too badly.

“Well now, sartorial splendour here, not!” he said, grinning, and was overjoyed to receive a tiny chuckle in response. Compulsively hugging his Guide, he was even happier to feel arms creeping round his waist to return the embrace. ‘It really is going to be OK’ he thought, pulling back to smile down at the shyly smiling face.

“Come on, I’m freezing here,” he said. “I’m just going up to get some clothes.”

Leaving the bathroom, and turning for the stairs to the loft bedroom, he realised that Blair was following close behind like a shadow.

Stopping at the foot of the stairs and turning back to face his Guide, he said, “You don’t have to follow me everywhere in the loft, kiddo. But perhaps you should see the bedroom anyway. Come on,” and with that, he took Blair’s hand and led him upstairs towards the large bed. Deliberately ignoring the young man’s immediate tension, he simply pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed while he puttered around getting fresh clothes for himself out of the closet.

By the time Jim had dressed, Blair was noticeably more relaxed, so, taking his hand again, Jim led him back downstairs to the kitchen, where Jim went back to preparing the stir fry. Pouring a large glass of milk for Blair, he sat his Guide down at the kitchen table with his meds, and talked inconsequentially while he cooked, surprising himself with his own chattiness; something with which he’d never previously been associated (just ask Carolyn). He realised he was really comfortable in the other’s presence. ‘Must be a Guide thing’, he thought, smiling inwardly at the notion.

Blair himself was quiet, obviously not accustomed to being allowed to speak unless spoken to, but, remembering what Stoddard had said about the pre-Galbini Blair, Jim hoped that this state of affairs wouldn’t take too long to fix. He got the feeling that the old Blair would have been talking up a storm by now.

Dishing up the finished meal, Jim put a good sized plateful in front of his Guide, and tucked in, only to glance up to see Blair, eyes downcast and hands in his lap, obviously waiting for permission to begin. Tapping his Guide’s chin to get him to make eye contact, he said gently, “You don’t have to ask permission to do everyday stuff while you’re with me, Chief. There may well be one or two things like house rules....” he tried for humour, and was rewarded by a little grin, “but don’t feel you need to check up with me all the time.”

Relaxing again, Blair began to eat, to find that, not only was the food really good, but he actually felt hungry for the first time in what seemed an age, so he tucked in with gusto, oblivious of the amused satisfaction on Jim’s face.

When they were both done, Jim suggested that Blair relax on the sofa while he did the clean up. Seeing his Guide drooping again, he realised he was pretty much exhausted himself, and wasn’t too surprised to note that it was well after midnight. It had been a long day for both of them, so after checking the locks, he gathered up his sleepy partner and headed upstairs to bed.

Seating his sleepy Guide once again on the edge of the bed, Jim stripped him down to boxers and tee, and, raising the bedclothes, urged Blair into bed. The fact that the youngster complied without complaint was testimony to his fatigue, so Jim simply stripped to boxers himself, rather than his usual nudity in bed, and spooned up next to the small body. He was rewarded by Blair turning over and snuggling up to him, settling his head on Jim’s shoulder like the previous night. Jim found himself momentarily choked with the depth of feeling he had for this beautiful but damaged boy, and swore again to himself that he would do everything in his power to make things good between them. Resolution made, he relaxed into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*

Late the next morning, Jim roused to find himself more rested than he’d felt in an age, and was convinced that it was on account of the warm body still curled around him. Gently easing himself out of the octopus-like clutches of the still sleeping Guide, he quietly made his way to the bathroom to take a much-needed leak.

Washing his hands, he went to the kitchen to put the coffee on, and contemplated what to prepare for breakfast, when his hearing picked up on the accelerating heartbeat from upstairs which heralded Blair’s awakening. He quickly climbed the stairs to make sure that the young man was OK, and not about to go into melt-down again at finding himself in a strange bed, and was struck by the adorable vision of a crumpled, sleepy Guide, sporting one of the most awful cases of bed-hair he’d seen in a good while.

Crossing over to the bedside he gently stroked the soft cheek, rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin beneath a still hazy blue eye. “Hey there, Sleepyhead. How do you feel this morning?” he asked softly. The face below him gradually became more alert, and he was gratified that this morning there was no immediate return of the anxiety and wariness he had become used to seeing on the boy’s face. Instead, Blair smiled shyly and reached out to him for another cuddle. Jim was only too happy to oblige, wryly acknowledging that he was getting really sappy, but not in the least worried by the fact. It seemed that, whereas any sexual touch was likely to cause fear and tension in his Guide, Blair positively basked in non-sexual cuddling, and seemed to crave Jim’s touch whenever possible. Jim supposed that a lot of it was a ‘guide thing’, since empaths needed plenty of tactile input. On the other hand, Jim’s own ‘sentinel thing’ responded to his Guide’s grounding touch, so the need to cuddle was apparently mutual. Who’d have thought the reserved, taciturn Detective Ellison could have turned out to be such a mush-ball?

After a prolonged and mutually satisfying snuggle, Jim shifted his bedmate slightly. “Hey, Chief, I suspect you could do with using the bathroom, huh?”

Blushing a little, and aware that sentinel senses could easily decipher his every bodily need, Blair nodded, and made to get out of the cosy nest he’d enjoyed sharing with his apparently accommodating Sentinel. He felt the stirrings of overwhelming adoration for this wonderful man, who was not only the epitome of a Greek god in appearance, but also seemed to be genuinely caring and supportive of a fragile Guide. Concentrating fiercely on his new personal mantra ‘think only of the positive, think only of the positive’ he was content to wallow in the present sense of peace and caring, and ruthlessly tamped down thoughts of an eventual return to the real world; particularly the PD and the alarmingly intimidating Captain Banks. He would have been surprised and angrily in denial if he had been made aware of his paragon’s reputation at the PD as a moody loner who would probably twist the arms off of any hapless individual who attempted to embrace him without prior warning or permission.

Unaware of his Guide’s thought processes, but happy to note his cooperation as regards the bathroom, Jim sat up and held out his hand again to lead Blair back down to the facilities. This time, Blair, with only a slight hesitation, went in by himself to take care of nature and to wash up after. He was only mildly apprehensive when Jim came in with clean underwear and a tee shirt – the sweats would have to suffice for now as he didn’t have anything more appropriate at the moment – but tensed visibly at the sight of the tube of ointment in Jim’s hand.

“Sorry, kiddo, but we’re going to have to deal with this. Should really have put it on last night, but I thought you’d had enough to deal with already. It’s got to be done, though, to help prevent infection, but it should also feel good after a bit, because Doc Stevens said it has a mild analgesic in it. Do you want to do it yourself, or can I help?”

Blair was grateful for Jim’s non-threatening offer, but knew very well that he couldn’t bear to touch himself in his sore areas. Quiescent but unhappy he nodded his acceptance of his Sentinel’s help, although it shamed him to have to do so. “S’okay,” he whispered. “Please go ahead if you don’t mind....” and he tailed off into embarrassed silence.

“No problem, Chief,” replied Jim immediately, going with his instincts to play down any potentially upsetting situations. Turning Blair to face him, he went with the easier part first, gently smoothing a small amount of the cream on to the young man’s sore and still swollen nipples. Smearing a little on the more angry-looking bite-marks, he concentrated hard on not allowing his anger to leak out and further upset his Guide.

Finishing up, he gently turned Blair’s back to him. “Sorry, kiddo, but you’re going to have to bend forward a bit. Now, don’t worry, OK?” he added quickly, when he sensed the boy’s rising panic. “I’m going to be as quick as I can, so think some nice thoughts for a couple of minutes, OK? Like, what shall we get for breakfast?” Pleased that the stupid non sequitur seemed to have the desired effect, and Blair really did seem to relax minutely, he quickly pulled on a disposable latex glove, and gently worked a good dollop of the cream into Blair’s passage. Understandably upset at the intimate touch, Jim was nonetheless impressed by his Guide’s sincere attempts to control his reactions, and to relax his inner muscles to accommodate the probing digit. Finishing up as quickly as possible, and pulling off the glove to put it in the trash, Jim patted the smaller man on the shoulder, then pulled him in for another comforting hug, which lasted until the minute tremors had ceased, and Blair had recovered his equilibrium.

Handing Blair the clean clothes to put on, Jim left the bathroom to prepare eggs and toast to go with the fresh coffee. By the time Blair had reappeared and headed a little hesitantly to the kitchen table, where another tall glass of milk and meds awaited him, Jim had mostly finished the eggs, and was waiting for the toast to pop up. Once they had done, Jim said, “Hey, Chief, why don’t you butter the toast for us? The plates are on the counter and butter’s beside the toaster.” Blair rose with alacrity, pleased to help, and hopeful that he’d do it right, as nothing was more important to him right now as to make his protector happy.

Breakfast prepared and eaten, and with the clean up out of the way, Jim gave Blair the full tour of the loft, since they had both been too wiped last night to do more than go from meal to bathroom to bed.

Jim pointed out the small room under the stairs, currently used as storage space, and explained his plans for turning it into an office where Blair could continue his studies and have a quiet place to retire to when he needed it. He wasn’t prepared for his Guide’s response, which was for the beautiful blue eyes to fill up with tears of gratitude, and he was more than a little embarrassed to find himself with an armful of sobbing, happy Blair.

Choking back his sniffles, Blair gazed up at his Sentinel with blatant hero-worship, almost incapable of murmuring his heart-felt thanks.

Glad that his plans were a resounding success, but unused to such adulation, Jim huffed a bit and muttered that, since he had a few calls to make, perhaps Blair would like to find something to watch on TV in the meantime, since he should still be taking things easy. So saying, he wrapped an arm round the young man’s waist (and how good was that getting to feel now?) and steered him back to the couch where he switched on the TV and handed over the controller. Blair looked at him a little uncertainly, then surfed through the channels until he came upon a National Geographic programme about the Amazon, in which he soon lost himself.

After making sure that his Guide was completely engrossed in the programme, Jim took the cordless phone out on to the balcony to make some necessary calls.

His first call was to the PD, where he asked to be put through to Simon’s office. Simon’s pretty blond secretary, Rhonda, answered, and politely enquired after his health. Normally accustomed to getting a short, snappy reply, she was pleasantly surprised when an apparently relaxed Ellison responded by saying he was good, and hoped she was in good sorts herself? Almost too shocked to answer, she thanked him and put him through to Simon, after which she stared somewhat bemusedly at the phone for some minutes, until another call came in and distracted her.

Simon, on the other hand, was in no mood to be appeased, and barked uncompromisingly down the phone at his absent Detective. “About time, Ellison!” he growled. “I wondered if you were going to grace us with an update today, or are your hands too full with that head-case you’re claiming as your Guide? I’ve got to state for the record that I’m completely against this so-called bond, even if apparently I have no say in the matter; but you’re going to have to do some serious work to impress me that you still belong in this department!”

Biting down firmly on his immediate impulse to tell his Captain exactly what he could do with his job, Jim made an admirable attempt at diplomacy, explaining that he’d need a few more days to get his Guide settled (which he would be entitled to even under normal bonding situations) after which he was prepared to come in to the PD and introduce Blair properly. He took the opportunity of mentioning Joel’s help and support (hey, he wasn’t above using a little emotional blackmail, after all) and terminated the call as quickly as possible before he got too close to the point of blowing his stack at his boss’s harsh remarks regarding his new partner.

Next was a call to the Sentinel / Guide Department to check he had the correct information regarding new partnership requirements and privileges.

He was put through to the Director himself, who had taken a personal interest in this unusual pairing. Having been informed of the circumstances surrounding the meeting, he had been advised of the apparent depth of the bond, even though there had been no formal introduction, and no likely sexual bonding in the near future due to the Guide’s fragile physical and emotional state. He was pleased therefore to discuss the situation with the Sentinel in question, and suggested that he and his new Guide come to the Institute the following day for a formal introduction. Jim prevaricated a bit, knowing that Blair might still be too traumatised, but agreed in the end to come in if his Guide was up to it.

Thanking the Director for his sympathetic understanding, he hung up, preparing to attempt a search for a number for his next call; that was, to try and contact Blair’s wandering mother, Naomi, who apparently hadn’t been in touch with her son for over a year. However, before he could come up with a plan to track down the elusive woman, there was a knock on the door, which caused Blair to jump violently to his feet.

Not recognising the scent of the visitor, Jim waved Blair back down to his seat, and carefully opened the door to find a pleasant looking middle-aged man of medium height and build smiling politely up at him. He barely had time to open his mouth in enquiry, when a Blair-shaped blur shot under his arm and latched on to the stranger, who hugged him back with visible affection. Jim was hard-pressed not to grab hold of his errant Guide, and haul him back into the loft, when he registered what Blair was saying.

“Oh Eli, I’m so happy to see you! I thought you’d forgotten me – I’ve missed you so much!”

Patting the boy on the shoulder, and pushing back a little, Dr Eli Stoddard seemed just as delighted as his erstwhile student. “There there, my boy. I’m happy too. I’d almost given up hope of anything coming of my Missing Person report, until your admirable Detective here telephoned me to say you’d been found – and bonded, even!”

Turning to said Detective, who was standing to one side, torn between feelings of protective jealousy and pleasure in seeing the joyful reunion, Eli extended his hand in greeting. “Very pleased to meet you, Detective Ellison, and many apologies for dropping in on you unawares, but I couldn’t keep myself away any longer, as I wished so much to see for myself how young Blair was holding up.”

“Apology accepted, Dr Stoddard, and please call me Jim,” responded Jim, with a small but genuine smile. “Please come in and make yourself at home. I’m sure we all have a lot to talk about.”

“Thank you, Jim, that is most kind of you, and call me Eli, like this young scamp does,” he chuckled, patting Blair again.

Jim was amused, but also saddened by the brief glimpse he was being granted of the happy student Blair must have been before the kidnap. Blair was smiling fit to burst, and almost bouncing with excitement, until he glanced towards his Sentinel, and the present crashed in on him. His excitement extinguished as if a switch had been turned off, he shot a look of horror and abject apology at Jim, and backed away hurriedly from Eli, knowing that he had acted out of line, and fully expecting to be punished for it.

Jim and Eli exchanged worried looks, and Jim, indicating that Eli enter with a nod, approached his devastated Guide as if approaching a half-wild colt.

“Hey there, kiddo, it’s OK, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s OK to be happy to see your friend, and he’s welcome to visit, so come on and stop looking as if the world is coming to an end.” Taking hold of the young man in a gentle hug, he looked over his shoulder at Eli, and asked him to take a seat. “Be with you in a sec, Professor,” he said. “We’ll just get ourselves calmed down a bit here, OK Chief?” this last addressed to the slender figure in his arms.

A few minutes later, Blair broke away from the embrace with an expression of shame on his face. However, he took a steadying breath and straightened up with visible effort to face the two men. “I’m sorry Eli, Jim. I really do want to get better, but it’s so hard...” He tailed off, unsure how to continue, or even if he should. His relief was palpable when he sensed no disgust or anger directed towards him, and he relaxed enough to take a seat next to Jim on the couch facing Eli, who smiled encouragingly at him.

“Blair, my boy, if even half of what I understand you to have been through is true, you have every right to be a little antsy,” said the Professor kindly. “However, I think I have something which might distract you for a while in good way,” and he reached into the satchel he’d been carrying over his shoulder, and which he had placed at his feet when he sat down.

Curious, both Jim and Blair watched as he pulled a cardboard tube out and handed it to Blair. With a questioning look at his Sentinel, and receiving a nod of encouragement, he took the tube in a slightly trembling grasp, and opened the top of the container.

Withdrawing the certificate rolled up inside, he gasped in shock at what he held in his shaking hand. “Oh, oh!” was all he could manage as he gazed in disbelief at the evidence of the granting of his Master’s Degree. With eyes filling with tears of deep emotion, he looked from Eli to Jim, and held out the parchment to his Sentinel to see.

“Oh, Chief, this is great!” came the enthusiastic response. “I knew you were smart, but this is something to boast about! And you got this before you were even 21,” he added, noting the date of the award. Choosing not to dwell on how Blair’s birthday must have passed in Galbini’s household, he concentrated instead on sending waves of pure pleasure and congratulations to his Guide. Happy to see the faint blush of pride on the young face, he decided it wouldn’t do any harm to labour the point a bit, especially as he himself was genuinely pleased with Blair’s success. “You know,” he continued thoughtfully, “We should go get a decent frame for this, and hang it up here in a prominent place. It’s no bad thing to have a guide with this sort of smarts. Got to show it off.” While he was speaking, he couldn’t help but notice the pleased expression on Eli’s face, even though Jim knew that the teacher must have been hurting inside to witness the nervous and uncharacteristic quiet his favourite student was displaying.

“Hey, Chief,” he continued, amazing himself with his tact, “Why don’t you put a fresh pot of coffee on for us?” He was taken aback when the distracted reply came back immediately. “Oh, Eli doesn’t do coffee, man, but if you’ve got herbal tea...uh…oh,” and Blair shut down in shock as he realised what he’d done – spoken out of turn without his Master’s permission...oh god, oh god, sorry, so sorry...!

Initially surprised, Jim played the situation by ear, and casually pointed to the kitchen cabinets. “There’s some on the second shelf, Chief, but it’s been there a while, so I don’t know how good a shape it’s in. Still, if you don’t mind giving it a try, Eli, I’m sure Blair can do a better job of making it than me.” Swiftly playing along, Stoddard smilingly agreed to try some of the aged tea, and Blair, baffled by the reaction, but happy to escape to the kitchen, placed his precious certificate on the coffee table and hurried to seek out the packet as requested.

While he puttered about in the kitchen, making tea for Eli and preparing a fresh pot of coffee for Jim, the other two men commenced an animated conversation, mostly with Eli regaling the Sentinel with tales of his Guide’s exploits over his years of study at Rainier and during the several expeditions in which they had both taken part.

While Jim was pleased to hear of the young man’s achievements, he was left wracking his brains to figure out how he could get Blair back some part of his academic life.

Having placed the drinks on the coffee table (well away from his certificate, since there was no way he wanted to get any accidental spills on it), Blair sat close to Jim’s side, and while not yet ready to join in the conversation, he let the comfort of the voices wash over him, and unconsciously pressed tighter until he was nearly sitting in Jim’s lap. Far from pushing him off and responding with impatience, Jim casually shifted to accommodate the snuggling, and continued his conversation, happy to see that Eli was acting with the same aplomb, although he did have the suspicion of a tiny grin playing at the edges of his mouth as he spoke. Jim found himself liking this man more and more as the visit went on, and was sorry when Stoddard finally excused himself on the grounds that he had a guest lecture to attend. Rousing at the movement of Jim standing to see Eli to the door, Blair followed closely to say his own goodbyes to Eli, all the while hoping that this wasn’t the last time he would get to see his favourite teacher.

Turning as he reached the door, Stoddard shook Jim’s hand, then pulled Blair to him in a gentle hug, with a whispered promise that he would keep in touch, and would arrange for the boxes of Blair’s belongings which he had stored for him in his absence to be delivered to the loft within the next couple of days. Eyes filling yet again, to his own annoyance, since he so hated appearing to be such a wuss, Blair stammered his thanks and stepped back into Jim’s arms, smiling at Eli’s retreating back.

“Well, Chief, he seems like a great guy,” offered Jim, rubbing the smaller man’s upper arms. Turning them both to re-enter the loft he said, “Why don’t you collect up the tea things, then we’ll check out where to hang your certificate. I might have a frame somewhere, but if not, we’ll go and get one as soon as you feel able to go out on a shopping spree.” Blair smiled happily up at him, and moved to do his bidding with the suspicion of a spring in his step, which left Jim with a feeling of smug self-satisfaction for a job well done. Perhaps this ‘Guide rehabilitation’ stuff wasn’t as impossible as it had first appeared.

*

The rest of the morning passed without incident as Blair gradually relaxed by increments and concentrated on trying to anticipate his Sentinel’s wishes, and maintaining his ‘positive’ mantra. By lunchtime he was beginning to feel a little more comfortable in doing routine actions without constantly asking Jim for permission, an improvement that Jim greatly appreciated.

The frequent hugs seemed to bolster the young man’s confidence to a huge degree, and Jim found himself more and more comfortable in providing the tactile stimulus, especially as it benefited him also, steadying and grounding his senses to a degree he wouldn’t have believed possible. If he regretted the total lack of sexual interest in his Guide’s aura to date, he could hardly blame Blair, and concentrated on keeping his own hormones under strict control, fully believing that the attraction would happen at the right time.

After a snack lunch of soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, which Blair both helped to prepare, and demolished in good order, he offered to do the clean-up, to Jim’s pleased surprise. “Hey, knock yourself out, Chief,” he said with a grin. “You might as well get used to where everything goes. By the way, do you cook?”

Ducking his head again, but with less apparent nervousness, Blair replied, “Yes, Sir – uh – Jim. I used to love cooking when I could afford the ingredients! Mom used to make me do my share at the communes and retreats we stayed in. She always said men should be capable of doing for themselves.” Realising he was running on, something he’d gotten out of the habit of doing, he was surprised to glance up at his Sentinel to find his face wreathed in smiles. Not only was Jim very pleased to know he’d have help in the kitchen and catering department, but he was really happy to hear the young man offering more than one-word responses.

“Guess a lot of the stuff you cook is vegetarian, eh, Chief? Or will you eat meat when you have to?”

Blair’s response was immediate. “Mom’s vegan, but she never stopped me when I wanted to try other things. I do try to avoid red meat when I can, and I try not to eat too much processed stuff, but I love Thai and Chinese, and Asian when I can afford it. My pasta’s pretty good too, if I say so myself,” he continued, unaware that he was beginning to gesture as he spoke and there was even a slight bounce in his step.

Thrilled to see the increased confidence in his Guide, Jim refrained from interrupting the little speech – he was enjoying it way too much. This was surely how ‘student Blair’ must have been, so he’d do everything he could to encourage the reawakening of what promised to be a fascinating personality.

“Sounds to me like you’re on for supper tonight,” said Jim with a chuckle. “I could do with some good pasta that I haven’t had to cook myself. Perhaps we can find a film to watch later, unless you like watching basketball?”

“Oh yeah, I love watching the Jags, and I play pretty well too! At my height I can duck under most guys’ arms....”

Suddenly, he shut down again, in an abrupt change which Jim figured would be part of his Guide’s behaviour patterns for a while to come, until he got the worst of the ‘slave’ conditioning out of his system. However, considering it had only been a couple of days since their first meeting, he reckoned that Blair was doing really well, and was quick to tell him so, accompanying the statement with the customary hug.

Blair returned the hug with a small smile, and promised do his best to stop reacting so negatively to each and every action.

*

Unfortunately for both Sentinel and Guide, each small step forward seemed to be countered by another one back, or so it seemed to Jim, as he caught the faint whiff of cigar smoke approaching the apartment which could only mean that they were about to get a visit from Simon Banks. Stiffening, he turned to the door, where he made out three heartbeats exiting the elevator. Simon had obviously brought along reinforcements.

Pushing Blair behind him, he stalked to the door and pulled it open just before Simon’s hand connected with it, partly just because he could and partly because he knew very well it annoyed the shit out his captain.

Huffing with expected irritation, Simon grunted, “Ellison, we have to talk,” and moved to enter, only to raise an eyebrow at his detective when Jim failed to stand to one side immediately. Nodding to Simon’s companions, who turned out to be Joel Taggert and Megan Conner, an Australian Inspector on an exchange programme with the PD, Jim spoke respectfully but firmly.

“You’re welcome to come in, Simon, but I give you fair warning that any undeserved attitude towards my Guide, and you’re out, Captain or no Captain.”

With that, he stepped aside and let his visitors in, moving himself to go back to Blair’s side.

Simon stared at him for a moment, then, raising an eyebrow questioningly, he moved to sit on the single chair facing the couch. Joel stepped towards Jim and Blair with a smile. “Hi Blair,” he said “it’s good to see you again, and you look much better than the last time! This guy’s obviously looking after you so far.” Then, with a fake conspiratorial air, he added, “Of course, any complaints with the present accommodation, and you could come stay with me!”

The astounded expression on Blair’s face was classic, and brought chuckles from the others (except Simon), but completely without malice, so the empath was aware that it was a joke, but not at his expense. He relaxed visibly, and smiled shyly at Joel, who he already recognised as a good man.

Then Megan stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Hi Blair, my name’s Megan Conner, and I’ve been working at the PD for a few weeks. On an exchange from Down Under, as if it wasn’t bloody obvious from the accent. Had the bad luck to work with the big guy there a few times, since I’m supposed to have some guide ability....”

“Huh! No way, Conner” growled Jim, only half-joking. “Guide support from you I could do without. Meet the real thing!” and he eased Blair forward to allow him to respond to the cheerful Australian.

Without making it obvious, Blair surreptitiously scanned the woman, but her slight smirk and raised eyebrow told him he’d been made, but she wasn’t annoyed at him. Blushing, he ducked his head and held out his hand, after the usual confirming glance at his Sentinel. Jim sighed internally, realising that some conditioned mannerisms were probably never going to be cured, but glad that at least two of his colleagues approved of his Guide.

Megan gladly took Blair’s hand, and looked as if she wanted to pull him into a hug, although she restrained herself after a glance at Jim’s lowering expression. “You’re really cute, love,” she made do with saying. “It’ll be good to work with you.”

“When we’re quite finished with the small talk,” Simon broke in, “We need to talk about the bust. I’ve been talking with the FBI and the Commissioner – Mayor and Chief too - and although they’re pleased with what we achieved, there’s been some suggestions made that it could have been better. Apparently Kobyoshi was supposed to be in on the meet also, but he got tipped off somehow and left Cascade the day before. Word is that it was one of ours, and there’s going to be an internal investigation.”

“What are you inferring, Simon?” snarled Jim. “You think it was me? Or perhaps Tony DiLuca?” DiLuca was the deep cover FBI agent. “Because if so, you can put me in front of any PD Sentinel / Guide pair and they’ll be able to tell you I’m not lying!”

“No, no,” responded Simon, back-pedalling rapidly. “You aren’t under suspicion, even if he” - nodding towards Blair – “could have compromised you. It’s more likely another cop, although I hate to say it, but I need you to come in to help out with the enquiry. Guess he’ll have to come too, but that can’t be helped,” he added ungraciously.

Torn between wanting to rip Simon a new one for the implied insults to his Guide, and a sense of duty to finish the job properly, Jim ground his teeth before answering.

“OK, if Blair agrees,” he replied. “We’ll come in for a while, but just for the Board of Enquiry for now; the bond is too new to be subjected to any fresh casework yet. That won’t be until the Sentinel / Guide Dept give us the go-ahead.”

“Agreed,” said Simon, obviously relieved with Jim’s ready capitulation, as he’d expected a head-butting contest at least on Jim’s previous form. Perhaps this guide stuff did have some good points after all...?

Standing, he made to leave, only asking when he could expect the pair to turn up. Jim, carefully studying his Guide’s wan face, replied that they would be there in a couple of hours, tops. At that, Simon, Joel and Megan moved to the door, with a friendly, “See you,” from Taggert and Conner, if not from Simon.

Once he was sure his visitors were in the elevator, Jim turned back to Blair to find the kid fighting hard not to burst into tears again. “I’m so sorry,” Blair whispered past the lump in his throat. “I never cried much before, honest, but I can’t seem to stop now...I don’t know what’s wrong with me...I’m becoming such a wuss....”

Squeezing the young man’s shoulder in sympathy, Jim murmured, “No, Chief, it’s a normal reaction, believe me. Think of it as a form of PTSD. You’ll probably be going into meltdown at unexpected moments for a while to come. Just don’t start feeling that it’s just you, it’s not. There are plenty of guys in the military who’ve gone through far less trauma than you’ve suffered who have the symptoms, so don’t get thinking you’re any less of a man.” Jim moved in to cuddle Blair again, amazed at himself for his comments. Ellison, the sympathetic partner, who’d have believed it? Huh!

Blair raised his head after a few moments and said, more firmly than he felt, “OK, I’m ready now. We can go whenever you need, M…er...Jim.”

Admiring his partner’s spunk, Jim nodded, and went to retrieve his truck keys, and a lightweight jacket which would be very big on his Guide, but would serve to both cover his arms from shoulder to fingertips, and give him some sense of security after being on display virtually naked for so many months. Shrugging into the oversize coat with a grateful look, Blair steeled himself to leave the loft and return to the place which would be part of his future for a long time to come.

*

The drive to the PD was made in relative silence, with the only comments from Jim being enquiries after his Guide’s relative comfort, which were met with whispered but not very convincing assurances from the younger man.

Had it been the Blair of old, he would probably have commented on the cool classic truck his Sentinel chose to drive, followed by an endless mini-lecture on the impact of internal combustion engines on the environment and the evils of pressure on third world countries encouraging them to make the same mistakes in order to compete with the industrialised nations of the Western world, etc. This Blair, however, was turned in on himself, endlessly repeating his ‘think positive’ mantra and concentrating all his meagre remaining self-control into not embarrassing his Sentinel with the hissy fit to end them all.

The arrival in the parking garage threatened to be as traumatic as the last one, except that this time at least Blair wasn’t dressed like a party boy any more, but more like a scruffy hippy in the oversize jacket and rolled-up borrowed sweats. Jim wasn’t taking any prisoners though, when it came to snide comments, so more than one uniform shrank beneath his furious glare as he steered Blair to the elevator.

Once in the relative quiet of an empty elevator car, Jim realised that his Guide was only wearing a pair of his own white socks, as they hadn’t yet been able to buy any new clothes or shoes, and Blair’s own boxed up possessions weren’t due to be delivered from Dr Stoddard until tomorrow at least. The small oversight could well prove to be a disaster out of all proportion with its actual nature if anyone was foolish enough to mention it in the already shaky guide’s hearing. ‘Talk about last straws,’ thought Jim. His protective instincts were growing with every step they took towards the MCU, and it wouldn’t have taken much to send them both back down to the truck and home.

Finally reaching their destination, Jim looked down at the small figure tucked under his arm. “OK Chief?” he enquired. “Just remember that I’m going to be right with you the whole time, and any sign of trouble, I’m taking you out of here. I don’t care what they say; I’m not having you upset unnecessarily, OK?”

Unable to articulate an answer, Blair swallowed hard and glanced up at Jim with a small nod of acquiescence. Straightening his shoulders inside the large jacket, he took a deep breath and stepped into the bullpen alongside his Sentinel, determined not to bolt this time. Proud of his Guide’s courage, Jim steered him straight for the conference room where his senses had already told him the members of the enquiry board were gathered.

Knocking once and entering immediately, Jim and Blair faced the group which consisted of Simon, Captain Sullivan, Special Agent Matthews and the undercover agent Tony DiLuca, and the Chief of Police. Also present were the Sentinel / Guide pair from Homicide, Ralph Smithson and his Guide and wife Stephanie, and the Director of the Sentinel / Guide Department himself, Adam Kingsley and his chief Science Officer, Dr Gerry Larsen.

“Thank you for coming, Sentinel Detective Ellison, Guide Sandburg,” said Director Kingsley formally, rising from his chair. “We very much appreciate your agreeing to come in, especially in view of your unfinished bonding process,” he continued, looking around at his colleagues for their approval. Only Simon and Captain Sullivan showed any signs of disagreement, but were too politic to voice their complaints.

Nodding to the Director, and surveying the room in general, Jim led Blair over to two spare chairs, making sure his Guide was settled close to him within his protective shield. Sending support and comfort to his Guide through their developing mental link, and receiving love and determination in return, he prepared to hear what the board had to say.

The Chief of Police started the proceedings by outlining what had actually been achieved at the bust; who had been taken into custody, and who was likely to receive significant sentences. The list was comprehensive and impressive, but Jim could tell there was a ‘but’ about to follow. He wasn’t disappointed when the Chief continued by confirming that it had been believed that the Japanese crime lord Kobyoshi had also been expected to be present, but had left the day before after being tipped off by person or persons unknown, and had returned to his own turf in Seattle where he continued to operate unchecked.

Having already heard this much from Simon earlier, Jim was impatient to get down to the details and see what the theories were regarding the source of the tip-off. Before the discussion could get underway, however, there was knock on the door, which opened to admit two of Sullivan’s detectives from Vice.

“Hey, Captain. Mancuso here said you wanted to see us about the Showgirl bust?” drawled the first man without ceremony; a tall, tough-looking man by the name of Barney Davidson. His partner, a slightly shorter, but equally tough Hispanic called Eric Mancuso, nodded in agreement; an arrogant half-smirk tugging at his full lipped mouth.

Standing, Sullivan excused himself for a moment, and followed his men outside, unaware of the drama unfolding behind him.

Like the others present, Blair looked up at the newcomers, but his reaction took his Sentinel, and everyone else, completely by surprise. Face blanching dramatically, he dived under the desk to huddle at Jim’s feet, clinging desperately to Jim’s leg.

“Nonononononono...don’t let them take me...not again, never again...!”

“Chief, what is it? What’s up?” Jim asked worriedly, almost overwhelmed by the feelings of panic and terror pouring into him from his Guide. The other Sentinel / Guide pairing looked almost as upset as they picked up on the young man’s strong emotional reaction.

“Oh, for God’s sake!” growled Simon impatiently, so very unwilling to have the peace disturbed yet again by Ellison’s weird little hippy partner. He really was beginning to feel that it simply wasn’t worth the effort to retain Ellison in MCU, and replayed the opening notes from ‘The Twilight Zone’ in his head.

“Not now, Captain!” snapped Director Kingsley, knowing that there had to be good reason for Blair’s outburst, and wanting to get to the bottom of the mystery as soon as possible. His thoughts were echoed by the others there, so Simon was out-voted for the time being.

Meanwhile, Jim had succeeded in pulling the smaller man onto his lap, and was working on calming him down before he descended into a full-blown panic attack.

“Hush, now Chief, I’ve got you, nothing’s going to get you, I promise,” he repeated, over and over again in as soothing voice as he could manage. Little by little the body in his arms relaxed, but the tremors didn’t cease fully.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, but was only in fact a few minutes or so, Blair raised his head from Jim’s neck and looked fearfully towards the door. “Those men – they were there – hurt me – saw them at Galbini’s club. Please don’t let them see me!”

“Too late for that, son,” Director Kingsley murmured, as the Vice officers had stepped back inside with their captain to see what the fuss was all about.

Davidson spotted Blair immediately, and, nudging his partner surreptitiously, (or so he thought) he nodded towards the small Guide.

“Who’s this then? He your new partner now, Ellison? Where did you find him, Guides‘R’Us?” His attempt at a bald-faced bluff couldn’t fool the sentinels present, and the others took their cue from the angry growls emerging from the throats of almost primal creatures.

In the cause of self-preservation, Mancuso backed out of the room hurriedly, followed by his partner, and both raced off down to the elevators as fast as possible. The only reason they managed their escape was because their captain bravely, if somewhat foolishly, placed himself in the doorway in an attempt to prevent the irate sentinels from taking them down. His courage paid off in this instance, because Stephanie grabbed her husband’s arm, and pointed urgently at Blair. The small Guide was desperately clinging to Jim’s waist to hold him back, wanting only to prevent bloodshed which could conceivably take his partner away from him. Despite his indubitably distressed state, he couldn’t allow Jim to get into trouble with other cops on his behalf, even if they deserved everything they got.

Between them the two guides got their sentinels seated again, but Blair was in real trouble by then, overloading on the deep emotions swirling round him, and unable to rely on the support of a full bond to hold him together.

Realising this, Jim turned his full attention back onto his Guide, and wrapped him in a close embrace, unashamed of the need to cling to each other for comfort, especially since Ralph and Stephanie were also indulging in their own mutual comfort regime.

Squirming a little in his seat, Simon looked pointedly away from the pairs, but the others waited patiently until relative calm was regained.

“I think we need to know what sparked that off, if Guide Sandburg is up giving us an explanation,” said the Chief of Police, not unkindly.

“Just give him a bit longer, and I’ll see what I can do,” replied Jim. “But if he can’t talk about it yet, I won’t force him, whatever it is.”

“Fair enough,” responded the Chief. “But we’ll all be grateful if he can be persuaded – without further duress, that is.”

Nodding abstractedly, Jim continued to rub his partner’s back with a soothing hand, whilst whispering reassurances that no one was going to get to him without going through Jim first. Eventually, Blair patted his chest gently, and pushed back a little.

“I’m OK now, Jim. Well, better,” he qualified, with a shaky chuckle. “I can explain, but I’m so scared you’ll hate me when you hear the sort of things I had to do – have done. I don’t know how you can bear to touch me.”

“Ssh, Chief, never going to happen,” comforted Jim. “But I do want to know what went on, simply so I know what I’m up against when the nightmares start. But don’t let’s discuss that now, it’ll wait until we’re back home at the loft.”

“Home,” breathed Blair, almost too quietly even for sentinel ears. “That sounds so wonderful. I don’t want to spoil it....”

Turning in his Sentinel’s arms, he apologised softly and rather shamefacedly to the assembled Board, and, leaning against Jim’s broad chest for comfort and support, he began.

Blushing with embarrassment, and staring fixedly at the floor, he explained in a small voice how he had come to be in Galbini’s household, and for how long. He tried hard not to go into too much detail about the ‘training’ and grooming he had undergone; although there were one or two sympathetically-worded questions posed at a few points which he couldn’t ignore; concentrating instead on what was more relevant to this enquiry; i.e. the reason he was acquainted with the two Vice detectives.

He told of Galbini’s habit of sharing his favourite ‘pet’ with valued clients, or those he wished to impress. Explaining to the assembly how he was usually drugged before larger parties, partly to promote amnesia in their plaything, and partly to make him more compliant, there were occasions when it pleased Galbini to keep him fully aware and awake during the abuse.

Such an occasion occurred during a specially planned party held upstairs at one of Galbini’s clubs, where the guests of honour included Kobyoshi himself and his chosen bodyguards and colleagues.

Unable to verbalise the atrocities meted out on the young man’s body throughout the evening, Blair jumped ahead to where he regained consciousness much later on, to find himself being treated by Galbini’s tame but disinterested doctor, and witnessing a strange scene.

Galbini was nowhere in sight, so had presumably returned to the mansion, but Kobyoshi was talking animatedly to two of the other ‘guests’, namely Mancuso and Davidson, who Blair had taken to be Kobyoshi’s men. Although in too much pain to concentrate fully on what was being said, Blair remembered hearing phrases referring to a ‘meet’, where several other clients of Galbini’s were due to exchange a large amount of drugs, weapons and laundered money all in one go, in an attempt to cement Galbini’s much-desired reputation as a major player. As he began to grey out again at the doctor’s less-than-gentle ministrations, he knew he had heard the man he now knew as Detective Davidson distinctly warn Kobyoshi against attending, because there was likely to be a bust. The ensuing clean-up of many of his rivals would leave Kobyoshi in a strong position to take over the others’ turf, and enable him to become one of the most powerful crime lords on the West Coast.

At that point, Blair’s voice faltered and ceased, and he turned his face once more into Jim’s shoulder, desperately seeking his Sentinel’s strength and comfort.

The room was silent for long moments after he finished speaking, then Simon Banks stood up. “I don’t know about the rest of you,” he declared, “but I am very reluctant to take the word of an acknowledged sex-toy against that of two of Cascade’s finest, even if it does sound plausible. How in God’s name do we get genuine proof that what he’s claiming is true? This could be some form of vengeance for all we know, to get his own back on as many of his alleged ‘clients’ as possible!”

Blair gasped audibly, and buried his face further into Jim’s neck; unaware of the frowning reception Banks’ words had had on most of those present.

As for Jim, he was torn between maintaining his hold on his Guide, who plainly needed the touch, and getting up in his captain’s face for his heartless comments. He was saved from speaking by the snarled words from Ralph Smithson, who, backed up by Stephanie, stated uncompromisingly that his senses confirmed that Guide Sandburg was speaking the truth, and that Banks was out of order in questioning the integrity of Sentinel pairings and their acknowledged role as lie-detectors, amongst other things.

Silently agreeing with Smithson’s words, but needing to maintain the peace, Director Kingsley held up his hand and addressed the room.

“I’m sure we all know and respect the part sentinel senses play in our roles as peace-keepers,” he said, with a repressive sideways glance at Simon. “And we are more than grateful for Guide Sandburg’s contribution to this enquiry. I propose that we let Jim and Blair go home for some reconnecting and mutual comfort, while the rest of us concentrate on apprehending Mancuso and Davidson for questioning. Lady and gentlemen, let us adjourn for now and let the follow up commence!” He was aware that his words came over as somewhat trite and pompous, and a little amusing because of it, but that was the effect he wanted; defusing a potentially explosive situation.

Nodding his approval, Jim tucked his Guide under his arm again and headed for the door and the elevators without another word.

*

The ride back to the loft was completed in virtual silence, this time due to the contemplation of still-fresh memories in the case of the wounded Guide, whose ‘positive thinking’ mantra seemed to have taken a back seat for the present, and the equally disturbed thoughts spinning round in his Sentinel’s brain, nearly all of which were centred on his Guide and said Guide’s well-being.

Jim was relieved to reach Prospect without delay, and quickly parked up and moved around to the passenger side to open the door for Blair. He was relieved when Blair didn’t immediately cringe away from him, but sending out his senses, he ‘felt’ the uncomfortable emotions churning inside his partner’s consciousness, and was disturbed by the uncertainty apparent in Blair’s face. Holding out his hand to help his Guide down from the truck, in deference to his still-healing injuries, he was relieved when Blair grasped it willingly, and allowed himself to be eased out. He was even happier when the smaller man accepted being tucked closely into Jim’s side, and he walked them both into the building and into the ancient elevator, and from thence to the loft.

When they slipped tiredly into the welcoming calm, Jim vaguely noted the flashing message light on his phone, but disregarded it in favour of getting Blair his meds, a snack, if he could manage to face eating something, and a swift trip to bathroom and bed.

Totally emotionally and physically exhausted, Blair was completely pliant, and made no moves to deny his Sentinel’s apparent need to coddle him. He was so wiped that the attention, far from being unwanted, was received with gratitude, and he barely registered the placing of the usual glass of milk and handful of meds next to his hand as he sat drooping at the kitchen table.

Although in his deepest fears he figured that the sentinel may well be getting fed up with dealing with such a pathetically inadequate guide, he was grateful for the present respite from sad thoughts and loneliness.

Standing suddenly with tears threatening to overflow from devastated blue eyes, Blair stumbled over to his Sentinel, craving nothing more than to be cuddled and reassured; for someone to keep the demons at bay for a while longer. He was almost completely undone when Jim opened his arms and pulled him in without question, proving by his very actions that Blair was indeed loved, protected and needed. It was almost too much.

“Please Jim. Take me. I need you so much!” He was barely aware of his own words, but was convinced of the truth of them. He wanted and needed to belong to this wonderful man, and wanted so much to be everything Jim needed, even if it was realistically unlikely. It would be no sacrifice on his part to be claimed fully by his chosen partner.

Unwilling to question his luck, Jim felt an internal shout of glee bubbling up at the heart-felt declaration from the dear little body in his arms. Reason kicking in, however, he was duty bound to ensure that his Guide’s offer was genuine, and not a knee-jerk reaction to the traumatic interview at the PD.

Pushing the trembling body back a little way he kissed the broad forehead, and tilted the face up so he could read the emotions in those beautiful eyes.

“Chief, I have to say that I’m totally in awe of your commitment, and I so want to make you mine in every way, but, please don’t take this the wrong way - but are you really sure? Because if you are, then I won’t keep you waiting any longer. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. All I want to do is take care of you for the rest of our lives, and make sure that we achieve all I believe we were meant to by whatever powers are looking after us.”

Sappiness be buggered’, he was moved to think, (borrowing from their Aussie Inspector). The depth of emotion he felt from his Guide was enough to convince him that his declaration of commitment was both received and welcomed. Add to that the few tears of relief and happiness that spilled over from Blair’s eyes, and he moved both of them towards the stairs to the bedroom.

“Do you need the bathroom, Chief?” he asked, thinking that perhaps a reminder of the mundane might help temper the growing emotional situation here.

Blair seemed to think about the question, then nodded, but appeared to be unwilling to make the necessary movement by himself. Jim had no problem in helping him out, and turned them both towards the bathroom, where he pointed his Guide towards the commode whilst stripping off his own clothes.

Tactfully ignoring his Guide’s taking care of business, and washing up, he followed suit, and then, gently turning Blair towards him, he asked if he would like a shared shower first?

Blair was nonplussed for a moment, then quiescent, as he realised that this was something that Jim would like. He nodded shyly, and waited for Jim to make the next move.

Jim smiled gently at him, then moved to turn on the shower, automatically adjusting the temperature to suit. Taking his Guide’s hand in a replay of their previous shower, this time he was quicker to start soaping up the beloved body, automatically noting, and discounting, the blemishes he found, and concentrating on making Blair feel really good. He was particularly gentle when washing the nipple area; sentinel touch registering just how sore they still were. The same applied to the tender genital and anal region, but this time he was astounded to feel a positive reaction. Blair was actually getting hard at his super-gentle ministrations, and he was moved once again with the strength of the boy’s spirit.

When Blair moved to reciprocate, he received the worshipful ministrations with awed gratitude, so that, once they were both clean and dry, he was more than ready to lead his partner up to their shared bed.

Blair followed willingly, even eagerly, and stood beside the bed awaiting Jim’s directions. Knowing that this situation was so far removed from Galbini’s commands that there was no comparison, he had no trouble in disassociating himself from the actions of the last few months, and was eager to make his commitment to his Sentinel.

When the sculptured body moved up close, he suffered a momentary pang of uncertainty; again not because of the situation, but because of his own disbelief that such a god among men could possibly want to mate with such as himself.

Jim seemed to be aware of his self-doubt, and was quick to reassure him; actions speaking louder than words in this instance.

Laying the small figure down in the centre of the bed, he proceeded to explore and enjoy the beautiful body laid out before him with such care and obvious delight that Blair couldn’t fail to be assured of his Sentinel’s love and care for him. Although he knew he was still less than completely healed, it seemed to him that this was of no consequence when it came to the cementing of their love, so he refused to listen to his internal warnings.

As it happened, the warnings were unnecessary, because Jim was fully in tune with his Guide’s needs, even in the full heat of bonding, and his rational persona had no intention of causing pain.

Thus it was that, after preparing his Guide with the super-gentle touch of an alpha sentinel, Jim propped himself against the head of the bed with a pile of pillows, and lifted Blair on to his lap. Momentarily unsure of Jim’s intent, the Guide was still for a moment, then he realised that Jim meant for him to ride on the impressive cock between them.

“It’s OK if you don’t want to, Chief,” murmured Jim, “But this is the best way of doing this. If you ride me, you can control just how much and how fast you can take me. If it gets too much for you, I promise I’ll pull out and do my best not to hurt you, OK?” Although he wasn’t entirely sure he could live up to his promise, he truly meant to try, so sat back and waited for his Guide’s response.

He was both moved and relieved when Blair, gazing at him with determined concentration, positioned himself over Jim and guided Jim’s cock into his waiting hole.

It was undeniably painful at first, the half-healed tissues protesting mightily at the invasion, but, before Jim could pull back in sympathy, Blair sank lower onto the large erection, and panted harshly while he adjusted to the stretching.

After what seemed to Jim to be an agonising age, Blair raised his head and began to move slightly, gradually increasing the tempo as his passage grew accustomed to the pressure. A few strokes later, and Jim knew he’d hit the ‘hot spot’ when Blair moaned and further increased his movements. From thereon they both became totally wrapped up in each other, each striving to both enjoy themselves and pleasure each other in equal measure, such that, when the mutual climax was achieved, the bond sang between them, and they were tossed into a world of shared pleasure and understanding.

Jim was beset by a swirling mix of emotions as he was allowed to fully enter his Guide’s mind: enormous gratitude for the gift of the youngster’s unconditional trust in him and adoration such as he had never hoped or believed himself worthy of, amazement at the sheer breadth of Blair’s experiences in such a short life, and deep sorrow and anger for the many hurts visited upon the boy, not all of which had happened in the few traumatic months of his captivity. Glimpses of past disappointments and broken friendships as a result of an itinerant lifestyle; episodes of bullying and unwitting neglect by his adored but ditzy parent; treatment bordering on child abuse with one or two of his Mom’s many boyfriends, the list went on.

Such episodes notwithstanding, he was cheered and amazed by the resilience he could sense, and the youthful hope and naivety not yet extinguished, which Jim pledged to nurture to the best of his ability.

For Blair’s part, he entered his Sentinel’s mind much more carefully, primed as he now was to avoid confrontation and overt inquisitiveness. He moved slowly through the areas where he felt comfortably welcome, but side-stepped any which appeared shielded or blocked, although his empathic ability could undoubtedly have pushed his way in.

He tentatively picked out impressions of Jim’s lonely, mostly motherless childhood, his disappointment in his only brother’s treacherous competitiveness and his father’s harsh upbringing, which ultimately led to Jim’s taking refuge in the military.

He picked up flashes of action with the Rangers, and Jim’s disillusion following a botched incident in the jungles of Peru which led to his leaving the army and joining Cascade PD.

He side-stepped areas concerned with his Sentinel’s involvement in black ops, and passed only briefly over the ill-fated marriage to Lieutenant Plummer.

Overlaying it all was the sense of Jim’s commitment to him and his welfare, and the deeply comforting protectiveness which he could feel cushioning him body and soul.

Moved once again to tears of pure love, he threw his arms around the strong neck and pressed himself down onto the hard body, ignoring the twinges from his half-healed cuts and bruises, and virtually oblivious of the soreness of his passage, even when Jim’s softening cock slid out of him.

Jim reciprocated by cuddling the slim body close, and whispering endearments such as he had never done to any of his past bedmates, even his wife, who would more than likely have laughed at him.

Finally, worn out but fully in tune with each other, they settled down to sleep with limbs tangled comfortably after Jim had roused himself just enough to give them both a quick clean up, and check his Guide for further damage. He was relieved to find just a minute spot of blood, and no new tears or bruising. Smoothing a little of the antiseptic cream on his already sleeping Guide’s reddened anus, he spooned around the cherished body and swiftly followed him into sleep.

*

The next morning, Jim surfaced from a solid night’s rest, and turned carefully to look at the small bundle of Blair curled up tightly next to him, arm encircling Jim’s waist, and head comfortably pillowed on his shoulder.

His Guide and now lover looked incredibly young and innocent in repose, and already seemed to Jim to be gradually losing the drawn and tight expression which had been noticeable even in sleep during that first night at Galbini’s mansion. He snuffled endearingly, and had managed to drool a little on Jim’s pectorals – something the new Jim accepted with a rueful smile rather than growling irritation. Lying there relaxed and warm with an armful of beloved Guide, Jim allowed himself a few more moments of quiet contemplation before getting himself moving, and was pleased and even a little smug to mull over how he knew he had changed for the better almost overnight, and all due to the boy in his life and his bed.

It wasn’t the case, however, that he thought that everything was going to be coming up roses from now on though. He was well aware that their new partnership was going to have more rough patches than most, simply because of the odd circumstances surrounding their imprinting. Blair, through no fault of his own, would undoubtedly have to put up with bad attitudes and sneering comments from the less sympathetic and enlightened members of the PD, although Jim fully intended to shield him from as many of such incidents as an alpha sentinel was able.

He was, however, determined that they would strengthen their bond with every passing day, and he knew that neither of them would ever be alone again.

Finally, with the call of the bathroom growing urgent, he gently disentangled himself from the octopus-like clutches of his Guide, pushing his pillow into the clinging grasp and slipping out of the bed before Blair got wise to the substitution. Muttering crossly, Blair turned over again and snuggled back down into the cosy nest of blankets until only the top of his curly head was left showing.

Chuckling to himself, Jim trotted downstairs to the bathroom, where he relieved himself with a sigh of pleasure, and decided to have a quick shower before fixing breakfast.

Ten minutes later, showered, shaved and comfortable in clean boxers and robe, he set about making fresh coffee and preparing the eggs and toast his Guide seemed to like so much. Remembering with a smile Blair’s confession regarding preferred foodstuffs, he decided against bacon, (just for today) and listened for any sounds of movement from upstairs.

Sure enough, a slightly elevated heart rate and almost sub-vocal mutters heralded his Guide’s slow climb to wakefulness, and the softly uttered “Jim?” had him mounting the stairs in time to see the spectacular bed-hair pushing upwards from the blankets.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said with a smile. “Guess you smelled the coffee, huh?” He was rewarded by the first instant and unaffected smile he had yet seen on the young man’s face, and was almost taken aback by its dazzling effect on him. His own smile widening in return, he reached out and pulled the eager body into his arms, thoroughly enjoying the sheer joy of the spontaneous hug.

Moments later, they broke apart when there was a knock on the door, which left Jim mortified that he hadn’t registered anyone’s approach, so involved was he in their cuddling.

“It’s OK, Chief,” he said reassuringly, “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you get my robe and do whatever you need in the bathroom?” So saying, he ran downstairs and paused long enough for his Guide to get into the spare robe and slip down to the bathroom and shut the door.

With the knocking growing more and more urgent and impatient, he threw the door open with a scowl, only to be momentarily side–tracked by the sight of a uniformed delivery man complete with clipboard and trolley filled with a pile of boxes. Belatedly recalling that Professor Stoddard had promised to send Blair’s things around, Jim signed for the shipment, and helped the delivery guy manoeuvre the trolley into the loft. Thanking him, and reaching for his wallet to give the guy a reasonable tip, he shut the door behind him and called to Blair, knowing full well that the kid would be hiding behind the closed door waiting to be given the all-clear.

Calling out to Blair to come out and check out the boxes, he moved to the phone to replay his messages, and, sure enough, there was the Professor’s cheerful voice advising Jim that he had arranged for the delivery of Blair’s boxes before 9.00 am that day. Hearing the message, Jim was heartily glad he was an early riser, so he’d had time to shower before the delivery. He wondered what the man would have made of him struggling downstairs rumpled and still reeking of sex?

Blair peeked out of the bathroom, and, seeing the pile of boxes, ran forward to stop dead in front of the nearest box. Jim had to swallow hard round the lump in his throat at the expression on Blair’s face. He looked like a little kid at Christmas, whose every wish had been granted.

“I can’t believe it!” he whispered. “Eli did this for me! I didn’t even know anyone realised I was gone! It’s so great!” and with that, he fell to his knees to start tearing at the tape holding the box shut.

Not wanting to spoil the kid’s pleasure, but also wanting him to take a few minutes to have a bite of breakfast, and his coffee and meds at least, Jim spoke up.

“Whoa there, Chief! Not that I mind you covering the floor with packing cases, but slow up just a second. I really think we should get some breakfast and get you washed and dressed first.” He could have bitten his tongue when he saw Blair’s reaction. Ducking his head in red-faced embarrassment, the boy shut down and backed away from the box he’d been attacking.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I didn’t mean to make a fuss, I swear. I’ll tidy everything away, I promise.”

“Aw, Chief, I wasn’t telling you off,” responded Jim with a rueful grimace. “I’m really happy you’ve got your stuff, but I just wanted us to take a bit of a step back before unpacking. I’d like us to decide where everything should go, especially as it looks like you’ve got quite a pile of books and papers to store. Let’s just take a moment to get ourselves organised, OK?” and with that, he crossed the room to loop a comforting arm around the drooping shoulders.

Gracing Jim with a tiny smile, Blair settled at his Sentinel’s touch, and leaned back into the embrace. “I’m sorry, Jim,” he said. “I guess I’m still worried about being punished for acting impetuously. I’ll go get a quick shower, and help you with breakfast if you want. If you wouldn’t mind though, could I just look in the ‘clothes’ box so I can get out something to wear?”

“Sure, baby,” was the affable response. “I don’t think those old sweats would do another day anyway.”

Hugging Jim briefly, Blair hurried to open the relevant box, and withdrew some old but clean items. Aged boxers and mismatched socks were followed by even older faded jeans and a blue Henley. The final item was an obviously soft, well-worn blue plaid flannel shirt.

Biting his cheek to refrain from making the unkind comments that sprang immediately to mind, Jim smiled in encouragement and backed away towards the kitchen. “Breakfast in ten, Chief, so make it quick,” he said, and was enormously proud of himself for holding back his guffaws until the bathroom door was closed again.

By the time Blair re-emerged no more than the allotted ten minutes later, Jim had himself well under control, and was, in fact, suitably impressed by his Guide’s appearance. Although the kid’s clothes had undoubtedly seen better days, he looked happy, relaxed and comfortable, and, Jim had to admit, the blues in the Henley and shirt really brought out the colour in Blair’s beautiful eyes.

“Hey, you look just like I imagined you would,” he admitted almost honestly. “Much better than borrowed sweats, huh?” and he put the plate of eggs and toast down beside the coffee and meds. “Sit down and tuck in, Chief. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can start sorting out your stuff.” And with that, he set to with his own food, and was pleased to see Blair go at his share with a will.

*

Breakfast over with in double-quick time, Blair looked longingly at the pile of boxes, and, receiving a nod of encouragement from Jim, he set about unpacking the rest of the clothes, as that box was already open.

Jim sorted through the items as they were lifted out, and put them in tidy piles to be carried upstairs and placed in the drawers and section of closet which Jim had already cleared out. Seeing that Blair had little in the way of smarter clothes, or a warm coat for that matter, he knew he’d be fixing that situation before too long.

Clothes unpacked, Blair was now buried in one of the boxes marked ‘books’, and was pulling out stacks of anthropology volumes and journals, as well as loose-leaf files and notebooks. Happily crowing over every item, he smiled up at Jim with such a look of satisfaction that Jim couldn’t help but smile in response.

Taking up some of the tomes, he moved to the spare room under the stairs, where he placed them in a stack on the old futon in there. “We’ll have to get some proper bookshelves in here, Chief,” he said, “Because there’s too many to fit on my shelves with my books, and it’d probably be best if you keep them all together for easy access. Besides, once we get it sorted, this will be your office anyway.” With his back still turned to the doorway, he couldn’t see Blair’s grateful, but slightly watery expression, although sentinel hearing picked up the convulsive swallow, and Jim could easily scent the faint tang of saline from the tears threatening to fall. Deciding it was better not to make an issue of his Guide’s tendency to over-react; a state of affairs he was sure would ease once the young man was feeling less fragile; Jim turned back with a quick smile of encouragement, and bent to pick up the next pile.

After the other books had been unpacked and lovingly checked over, and piled into the new ‘office’, Blair started on the couple of other boxes remaining.

One held a few artefacts and knick knacks Blair had undoubtedly picked up on his travels, plus a small photo album, and the second held a colourful afghan and a bedraggled old backpack.

This last had Blair almost bouncing with glee, as he pulled out a battered older-style laptop and a handful of CDs and floppy disks.

“Oh Jim!” he cried, almost beside himself with joy. “It’s all here! All my notes, my files! Everything I was working on when I was grabbed...!” For once not cringing at the thought of the kidnap, so happy was he at the discovery, that he jumped into Jim’s open arms and hugged the Sentinel hard.

“That’s really great, kiddo,” said Jim, genuinely pleased that the building blocks needed to get his Guide’s life back on line were apparently unharmed. “Perhaps when things have settled down a bit, Eli can suggest how you can go back to the U in some capacity. I’m afraid that you may not be able to take up your place in the doctoral programme yet, although I really wish you could, Chief, but I’m sure there must be some way you can continue your studies.”

“I know, Jim, and I truly appreciate that you’re willing to let me keep in touch with Rainier, but I also know that I’m going to have to learn so much so I can be of use to you. Any academic stuff will be great, but you’re the most important person in my life right now.”

Jim gulped, and realised that it was his turn for the emotional response. Jeez! ‘Iron Man’ Ellison was about to melt in the face of his Guide’s declaration of devotion and duty. Simultaneously, he realised that he really didn’t give a shit. This was what it was all about with Sentinel / Guide bonding, and that was more than OK with him.

Changing the subject simply to give himself a breathing space, he said, “You know, Chief, I was thinking that I might have a suitable frame for your certificate. It’s down in the basement store, so, if you’re OK with taking the rest of your stuff into the office, I’ll just nip down and get it.” Knowing that his empathic Guide would understand, he grinned a little self-consciously and went to the key basket to get the appropriate key set.

“Sure, Jim, and thanks so much,” replied Blair, intuitively realising that Jim needed a little space, and feeling confident enough now to be alone in the loft for a little while at least.

*

Down in the basement, Jim went unerringly to the box where he had packed away all the bits and pieces acquired during his all-too-brief marriage. Remembering that the single formal portrait of him and his new bride had been placed in a rather tasteful, certificate-sized frame, he located the item and contemplated it carefully.

It was undoubtedly a good photographic portrait. He and Carolyn looked like the typical handsome and happy couple, but he removed the photo from the frame without a second thought, just pausing long enough to tuck the picture safely between the leaves of the wedding album lying in the bottom of the box. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, he repacked the rest of the box, and locked up the storage area to return to the loft and his Guide.

*

Reaching the door to #307, he knocked once, so as not to startle Blair, then went in, holding the frame out to his Guide. “What do you think, babe? Will this be OK?”

As he might have expected, Blair’s eyes lit up with genuine glee, and he rushed to get his certificate from the coffee table. “Oh Jim, its great!” he gushed. “Oh, man, its perfect! Are you sure?”

“Breathe, Chief,” chuckled Jim. “Yes, I’m quite sure. It wasn’t being used for anything important, really, and I’d far rather see your Masters’ cert in here. We’ve still got to decide where we can put it, so it’s in plain view,” he finished, smiling gently at his Guide’s faint blush of happiness.

Taking the certificate from Blair’s hand, he quickly fitted it into the frame, and walked to the wall across from the living area. “How’s about here Chief?” he asked, placing the frame in line of sight from the main seating. “No one could miss it from here!” he declared cheerfully, looking back over his shoulder.

He just caught a swiftly concealed look of wonder and amazement on Blair’s face.

“Are you sure you want to do that, man?” murmured Blair uncertainly. “Mom would probably say that it was an unnecessary demonstration of ego....”

“Bullshit, Chief!” was the swift response. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with simply displaying proof of a worthy achievement. I’m sorry, Blair, but it sounds to me that your Mom was way too quick with the new-age clichés. You earned this, Chief, and I intend to make sure that people know it. Eli would want that too, you know he would.”

Squeezing his Guide’s shoulder, he moved towards the small toolkit he kept handy in the under-sink cabinet, and took out a hammer and picture hanger. Without pause, he knocked a picture hook into the wall, and hung the certificate in his chosen spot.

Knowing he had over-ridden his Guide’s protests to a certain extent, he was equally sure that this was one of those occasions when he knew he was right to do so, and that Blair would secretly be glad to submit to the fait accompli. Stepping back, Jim admired his handiwork, and was pleased and relieved when Blair crept up to his side and gazed in happy wonderment at the symbol of his achievement.

“Thanks, Jim, it’s great,” he whispered, and turned to hug his Sentinel yet again.

*

Following a snack lunch, Jim suggested that they go and do some grocery shopping so that Blair could prepare some of his pasta for dinner. Although he knew he really ought to check in with the PD, the Sentinel / Guide Department’s guidelines for newly bonded pairs allowed for up to two weeks’ maximum ‘bonding leave’ to cement the new partnership.

Considering that the first three days of his and Blair’s unorthodox pairing had been more traumatic on several counts than virtually any other partnerships he was aware of, and since it was Friday already, he thought he was more than justified in kicking back for a long weekend at least in order to let Blair settle even more into his new home and relationship.

Blair was a little wary at the thought of leaving the safety of the loft, but he knew that Jim would be with him the whole time, and he couldn’t stay hidden from the real world indefinitely. He summoned up a smile, and asked if he could check through the cupboards to see what he would need for a lasagne, which he knew he could manage easily enough.

“Sure, Chief, knock yourself out,” said Jim happily. It was good to see Blair pottering about the loft, already obviously feeling more relaxed and at home, and also thinking positively about everyday actions. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as hard as he had imagined for them to grow into a fully-functioning sentinel / guide pair in the PD environment. He admitted to himself that, seeing how badly traumatised Blair had been just a few days ago, he hadn’t held out much hope of them working together in the near future, if ever, although he had had no intention of ever letting the boy go. Humbled by the young man’s resilience and love for his Sentinel, Jim looked up to see Blair standing in front of him with a shopping list in his hand.

“Finished already, Chief?” he said, holding out his hand for the list and scanning it quickly. “Looks good – perhaps we can drop by Blockbuster on the way back and pick up a couple of films to watch tonight.” Smiling happily, Blair nodded, and stepped naturally into the offered hug.

Breaking apart after a few moments, they fetched coats as the Cascade Fall was already slipping wetly and coldly into winter. Seeing that Blair’s coat looked as if it had come from a thrift shop (which indeed it had) and didn’t look very warm or particularly weather-proof, Jim lightly rested his hand on his Guide’s shoulder.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Chief, but I really want to get you a decent winter coat,” he said. “Boots too, I think,” he added, looking at the ratty trainers on his Guide’s feet.

“You don’t have to, Jim, really. This is what I’m used to, and I can’t pay you back.”

Kissing the top of the curly head, Jim replied, “You don’t have to, kiddo. After all, it’s because of me that you can’t work now. Besides which, if you’re going to be tagging along with me from now on, I want to know you’ll be warm while you’re doing it. And I wouldn’t want Joel and Megan to feel I’m not looking after you properly,” he finished with a mock shudder.

Ducking his head, Blair whispered his thanks, even grinning a little at the humorous image an angry Joel and Megan cornering his Sentinel conjured up.

Having successfully defused any potential discomfort in the situation, Jim grabbed the keys to his truck, and they left the loft for their shopping trip.

*

Whilst Jim had never had any patience with shopping, only doing what he couldn’t avoid, he was surprised at how enjoyable the experience was in Blair’s company. Although still a little skittish, and with a tendency to jump or flinch a little at loud noises and pushy shoppers, Blair soon relaxed in Jim’s protective presence, and began to chat about various topics such as the importance of organic farming, and the potential health hazards of too much red meat, animal fats and sodium. Jumping from topic to topic with such speed that Jim could barely keep up, Jim realised that it didn’t matter. What did matter was that the young man was coming out of his shell more and more as his confidence in Jim grew, and the chatter provided a soothing background for over-sensitive hearing.

He looped his arm around Blair’s shoulders; they finished with the grocery shopping, and headed for a clothes outlet store just over the way.

Knowing that Blair was still a little embarrassed to have Jim buy his clothes for him, Jim let him choose from the sales sections, so that, although good quality, the coat and hiking boots they settled on didn’t cost too much, and the grateful Guide’s unease at his protector’s generosity was assuaged somewhat.

Finishing up by going in to the nearby Blockbuster Video shop, Jim picked out the newest Star Trek film, while the kid looked longingly at the Twilight movie. Raising his eyebrows a little, Jim was moved to say that he thought the film was supposed to be a bit of a teen ‘chick flick’, but noting the swift blush crossing the Guide’s expressive face, he took it anyway with a surreptitious wink at the pretty girl at the till, who obligingly gushed with enthusiasm over the choices.

Heading back to the loft with their booty, Jim reflected that he’d never enjoyed a shopping trip so much, and happily looked forward to a future where shopping ceased to be a chore.

*

Arriving back at the loft with arms full of their purchases, Blair immediately started unpacking the groceries and putting them away, while Jim turned on the TV and channel-surfed for a moment before settling on a replay of the last Jags match which he’d missed due to the surveillance he’d been obliged to do for the Galbini bust.

Blair hung up his new coat, and began to prepare the lasagne, puttering around the kitchen searching for the appropriate pans and utensils, and obviously thoroughly enjoying the experience of having the free run of a decent kitchen.

Humming happily, he chopped garlic, onions and tomatoes, frying them off with the ground beef, and added a careful amount of herbs and condiments in deference to his Sentinel’s heightened sense of taste. Leaving the meat sauce to simmer, he prepared white sauce and grated cheese, then came over to sit by Jim for a while.

Jim smiled as the smaller man cuddled up to him with a sigh of contentment, and they watched the game for a while, until Blair had to move to put the lasagne together and put it into the oven to bake.

While he did that, Jim put together a salad, and set the table, all the while almost drooling at the delicious aromas wafting around the kitchen.

The lasagne turned out to be as delicious as it smelled, and both men had hearty portions, something that cheered Jim no end – at this rate his Guide should soon get back into the healthy weight range.

He made sure Blair was fully aware of his appreciation as they both set to with the clean up, then settled down to watch the films, Jim with a beer, and Blair with milk and meds, seeing as he wasn’t allowed to have alcohol with the antibiotics.

Noting that Blair was drooping a little again – after all, he was still far from being fully fit yet - Jim encouraged him to lie with his head on a pillow on Jim’s lap.

Blair accepted with a grateful smile, and settled down to the wonderful sensation of sentinel fingers carding gently through his curls.

Jim put the ‘Twilight’ DVD on first, fully expecting to have to fight to contain his chuckles, only to find that the gentle escapism was, in fact, quite soothing, and suited their mellow mood.

About half way through the ‘Star Trek’ movie, though, Blair’s eyes finally closed and he fell into a light sleep, soothed and protected by his Sentinel’s touch.

Films over, Jim gently roused his Guide, and half-carried him to the bathroom where the sleepy young man did the necessary without really waking up. Taking the opportunity of this semi-conscious compliance, Jim quickly applied the antiseptic cream to his Guide’s sensitive areas and led Blair upstairs to bed.

Stripped down to his underwear, Blair once again snuggled contentedly up to his Sentinel’s large and comforting bulk, and drifted deeper into the Land of Nod.

*

The rest of the weekend passed in a very similar fashion, with both men growing more and more familiar with each other and more comfortable with their new shared quarters and relationship. Blair, although prone to flashbacks and uncertainty, was doing far better than Jim could have hoped for at their first meeting. Beneath the shy and fragile-looking exterior, there was a core of strength and determination in the young man which at times left Jim in awe. Added to that, the ever-growing attraction to each other meant that, although Jim held back from penetrating his Guide again so soon because of the still-tender and healing tissues, Blair was becoming far less gun-shy in terms of gentle, intimate touches. The bond could only continue to strengthen between them, and the sense of mutual love and belonging was a comfort to them both.

*

Monday morning arrived with an unwelcome call from the PD.

Simon, who had held back from contacting his best detective only with extreme self-control; knowing that the new pair was fully entitled to some down time; finally gave in to pressure and called to request that the pair report to the PD as soon as possible because the proceedings against the two accused Vice detectives needed to move forward. Both had been suspended without pay until the investigation was over, but both were fully aware that, if convicted, they would be looking at some serious jail time. Since it was Blair’s testimony which could tip the balance against them, Simon desperately needed sentinel and guide to return to the PD. (Having said that, Simon himself was still more than a little wary of accepting a charge of guilt against two of his fellow Captain’s men on the word of a crime lord’s fucktoy.)

Jim took the call just as he and Blair had finished the breakfast clean up, and beckoned his Guide over as he listened to what Simon had to say. Looping his arm over Blair’s shoulders in a now-automatic gesture, he asked his boss to wait a moment until he had checked with his partner. He could almost feel Simon’s aggravation and impatience emanating from the handset, but had no intention of answering before checking on Blair’s comfort level and willingness to comply. Covering the mouthpiece, he quietly asked Blair if he was happy to go in to the MCU, and, after receiving a slightly nervous, but definite affirmative, he told Simon they would be in later in the morning.

Thanking Jim in a noticeably grudging tone, Simon hung up and prepared for the next stage in the proceedings against Mancuso and Davidson.

Replacing the handset, Jim met Blair’s worried gaze, and offered a ruefully apologetic and understanding smile.

“I’m sorry about this, Chief, but look at it this way – at least it’ll get the whole mess over with sooner rather than later.”

“I know, Jim, and it’s not that I don’t want to do the right thing, but I’m afraid that my testimony isn’t going to be enough. Not everyone is as accepting as you are, and I’m still a sex-slave and victim in most cops’ eyes. What happens if they don’t believe me?”

“Chief, it’s not going to happen,” Jim replied firmly, knowing full well that there would be other sentinel pairings present. “Even if both of us were suspect, it would only take other neutral sentinel senses to confirm our honesty, and, if I say so myself, I have some pretty good street cred as an Alpha!”

Still nervous, but trusting in Jim’s confidence, Blair nodded his acquiescence and followed the Sentinel to the door.

*

Their arrival at the PD this time was a slight improvement on the previous two, probably because Blair was dressed a little better (He had on a decent top coat and shoes over old but well-fitting clothing) and also because word had gotten around regarding Jim’s jealous protective attitude towards his new partner. There were no noticeable unfriendly or adverse comments directed at the couple, until they neared a group of Vice cops waiting to board the elevator. Unable to avoid using the same car without appearing to display either anxiety or antipathy, Jim and Blair had no choice but to step in, but Jim immediately moved to the back of the car, and placed himself uncompromisingly in front of his slightly trembling partner.

Refraining from overt hostility and comment by the sheer animosity oozing from Ellison, who was in full Blessed Protector mode, the other cops contented themselves with a few unfriendly glances at the pair, and a noticeable closing of ranks in the presence of the MCU Sentinel Detective and his rather unconventional new Guide.

When the elevator stopped at three, the floor for the Vice Department, the cops exited, taking their animosity with them. Blair, buffeted by the negative emotions, leaned weakly against Jim’s back, trying to regain his equilibrium before they arrived at the MCU. Able to do nothing else, Jim simply pulled the slender body to him, and rubbed soothing circles on the still bony back until Blair’s trembling subsided a little.

By the time they had reached the doors to MCU, Blair was more in control of himself, and smiled gamely, if a little shakily, at his Sentinel.

Barely having time to acknowledge the greetings from H, Rafe, Megan and Joel, the pair were summoned to Simon’s office with the usual bellow.

Greeting them with a barely polite nod of acknowledgement, Simon advised the pair that the Board of Enquiry was re-convening in the Conference Room down the hallway, and he would be obliged if his Sentinel Detective and Guide would accompany him there immediately.

Saddened and bemused by his erstwhile friend and captain’s stiff attitude, Jim pulled his Guide close and followed Simon to the Conference Room. The set-up was as before, only with Captain Sullivan as a notable absentee. The others greeted the pair with varying degrees of warmth, but with no noticeable animosity. As before, the Sentinel / Guide Department Director Kingsley took it upon himself to start the proceedings, which more or less repeated the statements of the previous meeting, only this time with a much more focussed attention directed at Jim and Blair in particular.

Blair did his utmost to ignore any negative thoughts coming his way, but by the time he had finished giving his statement, he was relying heavily on Jim to buffer the worst for him. Finally winding down, he sank heavily to his seat, and unconsciously leaned in to Jim; an action which was totally expected and accepted.

After hearing Jim’s testimony and that of Tony DiLuca, the Board dispersed to seek out coffee and the restrooms as needed after agreeing to re-convene in half an hour’s time.

“How’re you doing, Chief?” Jim enquired gently, fully aware of the minute tremors running through his partner’s thin frame.

“I’m OK, Jim, but I need to use the bathroom – by myself, man,” he added as Jim prepared to accompany him. “Please, Jim, it’s just that I need to do this myself because I’m sure everyone here thinks I can’t even pee without having you to hold my hand. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Sure, Chief,” said Jim, although he wasn’t at all happy about it. He fully recognised his Guide’s need to act independently, but couldn’t shake a feeling of unease. Nevertheless, he nodded his agreement, and told Blair that he’d go grab some coffee in the meantime and would meet him back in the Conference Room.

*

Blair made his way to the restrooms, trying hard not to feel small and vulnerable, and pushed open the door with a sigh of relief when he found it unoccupied. Pushing into a cubicle, he took care of business, and exited to wash up, when the door opened to admit the figures from his worst nightmare.

Mancuso and Davidson, here to attend the enquiry, had spotted their accuser alone and unprotected heading for the bathroom, and made the most of the opportunity. Davidson stepped forward, intentionally crowding the youngster against the far wall, while Mancuso locked the door behind them.

“Hey, look what we have here,” Davidson murmured menacingly. “A second chance to enjoy G’s little fucktoy. God, I’m looking forward to this. He was real sweet, wasn’t he, Mancuso? Remember how he couldn’t get enough of us, huh? Wish the night could have gone on and on....”

“Yeah,” answered Mancuso, his expression cruel and lascivious. “Perhaps if we make it good enough for him, he’ll get a little case of amnesia, I’m thinking.” And with that he stepped forward quickly and grabbed Blair by shoulders, quickly spinning him around so he could hold the young man tightly from behind, and yanking his shirt down by the collar, providing Davidson with an unchallenged opportunity to grope his victim at will. Davidson reached out and, twisting and pinching Blair’s nipples, growled into his ear.

“One word from you about us and Kobyoshi and you and your precious Sentinel are toast. This is what you’ll do,” he continued, dropping his hands down to Blair’s zipper, ready to lower it and grasp the youngster’s genitals. “You’re going to deny the whole thing – admit to being drugged - and that you imagined our part in it in order to get yourself out of trouble. Yeah, that’s what you’ll say,” he purred, grasping Blair hard enough to hurt.

Crying out in pain as sharp nails gouged the soft skin of his belly, and terrified almost out of his mind, Blair responded the only way he could, by shouting his denial out loud whilst pushing all his fear and hatred outward towards his attacker. He was totally unprepared for the result, which had Davison flying backwards to slam against the wall, hitting his head on the counter’s edge with a sickening thud as he went down. Horrified, Mancuso let go of Blair as he felt something akin to an electric shock course between the young man’s flesh and his hands. He backhanded the boy, splitting his lip, then flew to his partner’s side to see how badly he was injured.

At that moment, Jim, having picked up on Blair’s panicked heart rate and frightened scent, barrelled into the bathroom, bursting open the locked door. He was closely followed by Simon, who had been behind Jim in the break room when the Sentinel went on the alert. Grabbing Mancuso, Jim threw him at Simon to take care of while he rushed to his Guide’s side. Blair was huddled on the floor, arms round his head, and shaking from head to toe in reaction.

“Oh godohgodohgod” the kid was muttering. “I didn’t know, truly, I didn’t know!” he cried brokenly. “Oh god, what did I do?”

Aware that the rest room was crowded now with other personnel trying to check on Davidson and taking Mancuso into custody, the latter now screaming about ‘murdering freaks’, Jim pulled his Guide to his feet and took him to the nearest interrogation room for a measure of privacy. Sitting on the nearest chair, he pulled his unresisting Guide onto his lap, where the terrified young man clung to him as if trying to burrow under his Sentinel’s skin.

Jim catalogued his lover’s fear and pain, sentinel touch locating bruising to arms and chest, noting with a growl the pinched nipples and with rising fury the sight of a bite mark on Blair’s right shoulder.

Since he could also pick up the faint tang of blood from the scratches on Blair’s abdomen, he knew without doubt that Blair needed to be checked out by the forensics team to record the evidence of the attack, as did both Davidson and Mancuso, so there would be no question as to who the victim was.

Rocking Blair gently and whispering reassurances to the devastated guide, Jim looked up sharply as H poked his head round the door, but didn’t enter the room fully, as common sense told him that approaching a sentinel in full Blessed Protector mode was bordering on suicidal.

“Jim,” he said quietly. “Just wanted to let you know they’re transporting Davidson to Cascade General now. It doesn’t look good, I’m afraid. How’s the kid?”

“Just make sure they get the skin scrapings from under that bastard’s fingernails – the DNA’ll match Blair’s,” came the growled response. “They should swab Mancuso’s mouth too – he bit my Guide,” he continued, pulling the torn collar aside slightly so H could see the bloody teeth marks on Blair’s shoulder.

“Will do, Jim. I’ll make sure of it,” H said, wincing in sympathy. “Tell Blair to take care,” and with that, he ducked back out of the room.

Some minutes later, Jim heard the EMT’s pushing Davidson’s gurney along the corridor. He fervently hoped that H would get the samples as requested, although he knew that the outwardly happy-go-lucky man was a good detective, and wasn’t likely to mess up something as important to the safety of MCU’s resident Sentinel / Guide pair.

A little later still, when Blair had calmed slightly, Jim pushed him back a bit and spoke quietly to him. “Chief, we have to get you checked out and photographed. I’m sorry that it’s yet another upset for you, but we need to have all the evidence we can to make sure there’s no question that you were the victim here. I’ll stay with you, I promise, but would you rather have it done here or in the Sentinel / Guide unit at Cascade General? I really think the hospital would be better for you – not so traumatic, and they can check you over at the same time. How about it, babe?”

Still watery-eyed and trembling, nevertheless Blair was able to nod in agreement, and whispered, “I’ll go the hospital if I have to Jim, but do you think Dr Stevens will be able to see me? I don’t want any more strangers gawking at me.”

“I’m sure it’ll be OK, Chief. If he’s not on duty, I’ll bet we can call him in. Let’s go now while the evidence is still pretty fresh.” He could have bitten his tongue at the apparently callous statement, when he saw Blair’s flinch and embarrassed blush. Thinking that further comment would probably only make things worse – (Stop digging, Ellison) – he gently slid the Guide off his lap until Blair stood unsteadily before him. Standing himself, he tucked the shaky young man under his arm and opened the door, looking for potential confrontations with personnel that he wanted to avoid.

Reluctantly recognising that his Captain was one such obstacle, he was relieved to see the corridor clear, so quickly hurried his charge to the elevator before anyone could stop them.

Down in the parking garage, Jim helped Blair into the passenger seat, and set off for the hospital, ruefully thinking that in the bare few days they’d been bonded, his Guide had probably seen more of the hospital than the PD.

*

Once again entering the Sentinel / Guide Unit, the nurse at the Reception nodded helpfully when Jim asked for Dr Stevens.

“Yes, he’s on the ward at the moment, so he shouldn’t be too long. I’ll page him to make sure he’s aware that you’re here. If you’d like to take Guide Sandburg to the cubicle at the far end there, I’ll fetch a gown and a plastic bag so you can keep the clothes for evidence.”

A little surprised at her forethought, Jim thanked her and led Blair to the cubicle she’d indicated. Only a couple of minutes later she was back, bag and hospital gown in hand, although she didn’t attempt to enter the cubicle without the Sentinel’s specific permission. “Dr Stevens is on his way now,” she said with a smile, and backed out into the corridor.

“I guess it’s obvious that I’ve been attacked again, huh?” whispered Blair dispiritedly. “I’m going to get a reputation as a real wuss at this rate,” he sighed. “Or potential victim material.”

“No Chief, that you aren’t,” countered Jim, needing to offer comfort and support. Privately, though, he reflected that the Guide might just get a reputation as a trouble magnet.

Helping Blair out of his clothes, he hissed in fury at the new marks on the soft skin. The poor kid just didn’t seem to be able to get a break. Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, knowing that the empath was well aware of his strong emotional response, he eased the gown over the thin shoulders, taking care not to brush the oozing bite mark. Blair climbed tiredly on to the gurney, just as Dr Stevens coughed discreetly from the curtained entrance.

“Come in, Doctor. Thanks for agreeing to see Blair. He’s had enough of strangers poking at him, and wanted someone he’d been seen by before.”

“I completely understand, young fellow,” replied Stevens sympathetically. “I just wish it wasn’t so soon, though, eh?” So saying, he pulled on latex gloves and took the tray of appropriate instruments so he could take the forensic samples first.

Gently swabbing the bite mark, he also did the deep abdominal scratches, and checked Blair’s own fingernails, even though Blair hadn’t had his hands free at any time to do any of his own scratching. “It’s negative evidence” the Doctor explained. “Just as important as positive evidence in a way, as it proves that you didn’t have a chance to retaliate.”

“Well, not like that anyway,” came the whispered reply from Blair. “It seems as if I don’t have to use my hands now.”

Puzzled, the Doctor let the cryptic comment lie for now, but knew he’d be asking about it later.

He continued with the check up, cleaning and bandaging the bite and the scratches. He gave Blair a tetanus shot, and took Polaroid photos of the new bruises before declaring Blair as fit to leave, but to apply the antiseptic cream to the bite mark and scratches for as long as needed. He then told them that they were good to go, and said that Blair could have a shower, but to try not to get the bite too wet.

Helping Blair into another set of scrubs, which looked a little odd with the new hiking boots, and taking the bag of clothing, Jim slipped a supportive arm around Blair’s waist. Thanking the Doctor, they made their way slowly back to the truck.

When they were seated, Jim spoke gently to his Guide. “Link with me now, babe. I need to be able to understand what happened so I can back you up.” Sighing, Blair raised wounded eyes to meet his Sentinel’s crystal blue gaze, and concentrated on trying to pull his unruly emotions into some sort of control before gently entering Jim’s mind.

After a few minutes of exchanging information and mutual support, Jim took a deep breath. “Wow, Chief,” he exclaimed, his awe apparent in his tone. “I’ve never known anything like this before. My best guess is that you’ve always had latent high status Guide capabilities, but when you came online after the kidnap, bonding with me has released an even higher ability. I’ve got a nasty feeling that the Sentinel / Guide Department is going to want to do some studies.”

“No, no, please Jim! I can’t be a lab rat – please! I’ll try never to do it again, I promise! PLEASE don’t let them have me...!” Blair’s terror was heart-breaking to witness, causing Jim to act quickly to assuage his Guide’s distress.

“Whoa, hush, Chief. I’m sure it won’t amount to anything like that,” Jim replied soothingly, although he wasn’t totally convinced himself of the truth of that statement. What he did know for sure was that there wouldn’t be any unpleasant experimenting on his Guide as long as he had breath in his body.

Blair calmed a little, his trust in Jim complete. He asked if they would have to go back to the PD now, or if he could take a shower first, he felt so violated and dirty again.

Jim agreed, thinking that another PD trip could wait until Blair was once again clean and wearing his own clothes, so they detoured via the loft where Jim wasted no time in stripping them both down so he could tend to the fragile young man’s injuries himself. He deliberately kept his ministrations non-sexual for the time being, as Blair now had yet another bad memory to process, and after drying them both off, he made a fresh pot of coffee while Blair a little shakily pulled out more clothes, just as well-worn as the first set, and dressed carefully, mindful of his new hurts.

A cup of coffee and a cuddle later, the pair set out once again for the PD.

Blair was quiet and introverted during the drive, and Jim glanced over at him worriedly, knowing that his partner was beating himself up unnecessarily (in Jim’s opinion) about acting to defend himself, and consequently discovering that he was capable of what might even prove to be a potentially lethal power. Having seen deep into his Guide’s mind, Jim was well aware of the young man’s gentle nature and non-violent beliefs, despite all the hurts that had been visited on him during his short life. He also knew there was little point in his trying to get Blair to verbalise his thoughts and fears for the moment, since it was obvious he was going to have to spend some serious meditation time to try and get to grips with the new concept and its consequences.

*

When Jim pulled up again in the PD parking garage, Blair took a deep steadying breath, and, glancing over at his Sentinel, murmured, “I’m ready, Jim.” Locking gazes with the slightly trembling but determined young man beside him, Jim was once again overcome by a feeling of love for and pride in his plucky Guide. Nodding firmly, he got down from the cab and walked round to give his partner a helping hand, as it was apparent that he was stiffening up again despite the pain meds Jim had managed to get into him back at the loft.

This time when they entered the MCU bullpen, they hardly had time to move towards Jim’s desk when Simon Banks’ bellow stopped them short. Once again cringing a little at the angry tone, Blair tucked behind Jim’s back and tried to make himself look as insignificant as possible.

Once inside Simon’s office, the door had barely closed when Simon rounded on the hapless pair. “I’ve spoken to Sullivan in Vice, and Davidson died without regaining consciousness,” he started straight in. “I want your Guide down in booking a.s.a.p. for printing and processing....”

The reaction was two-fold and immediate. With a pained moan of pure grief, Blair folded in on himself and sank to the floor, where he huddled in a small, rocking ball of misery. On the other hand, Jim, coldly furious and not about to take any prisoners, answered his captain in a low tone that portended a far greater threat than an out-and-out shouting match could have.

“No, Captain, sir,” he snarled. “You know yourself that Blair was the victim – Jesus, man, you saw the state of him in the restroom after those two bastards had assaulted him!”

“Yes, I did,” came the unrepentant reply. “And I also saw a body on the floor and your Guide the only one there who could have caused the injury. If he’s innocent then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” he finished smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Unsurprisingly responding to the man’s obduracy with corresponding aggression, Jim answered back, the volume of his comments rising as his sentinel-driven protectiveness burgeoned.

“This is bullshit, and you know it, Captain. What’s your problem? Is it because Blair has been raped and violated so you don’t think it’s appropriate for me to bond with him? Well, that’s a bunch of crap, Captain! I don’t care if your feelings are hurt because he doesn’t meet with your approval. My Guide, Captain, mine!

“And another thing; I took him to the Sentinel / Guide Unit to get checked over and the Doctor there took full forensic samples and Polaroids, and I’ve got his statement verifying that Blair was obviously attacked by those two. By now H should also have the skin samples from Davidson’s fingernails and a swab from Mancuso which will prove without doubt that my Guide was scratched, bitten and bruised by those bastards, as well as being sexually assaulted.”

Looking slightly deflated, Banks backed up a bit, but wasn’t giving in without a fight.

“All that’s as may be, Ellison, but there’s still the question of that ‘kinetic power’ or whatever it was that the kid used. The Director’s going to need to do some testing there. When I spoke to him a few minutes ago he said he hadn’t heard of a projecting empath in the Pacific North West for decades. The kid really is a freak, Ellison, and you’d do well to break this bond while you still can.”

“For the last time, Captain, the bond is set, and is stronger than anything the Director has heard of in his time at the Department – his words, not mine – so no, I couldn’t break it even if I wanted to, and I don’t!

“And I’ll thank you not to keep disparaging my Guide by referring to him as a ‘kid’ in that sneering tone. He’s twenty one and legal, and already has more academic qualifications than we have put together!”

With that, he turned his back on the seething Banks and crouched down to take hold of the rocking, devastated young man huddled on the floor at his feet.

“Oh gods, he’s dead, I killed him!” Blair was saying over and over. Looking up at Jim’s face, blue eyes filled with despair and self-disgust, “I’m so sorry, Jim. So sorry. Please don’t let them take me; don’t let them lock me up. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted him to stop!” And he dissolved into tears, throwing his arms around Jim’s neck as if afraid the Sentinel would move away from him in disgust. Holding him close, Jim stood up and guided Blair to the nearest chair, where he sat with his Guide once again in his lap, face buried in Jim’s neck, trying to block out the world.

Having heard the raised voices from the office, Joel knocked lightly and entered to see what the fuss was about. Seeing the state of the young man in Jim’s arms, and the simmering fury on the Sentinel’s face, Joel set himself out to mediate between Ellison and Banks to try to defuse the alpha dog pissing contest that was obviously taking place, with the hapless Guide in the middle.

“Look Simon,” he said calmly, “I don’t know what’s going down in here, but I came to tell you that H is back from the Forensics lab, and he’s already dropped off the samples Ellison wanted from Davidson and Mancuso. If those,” he added, nodding towards the bag of clothing and photos Jim had dropped by the door, “are what I think they are, there won’t be any problem with proving that Blair was acting in self-defence. Mancuso has been talking up a storm too – ranting on about how Davidson should have killed the little bastard but that he wanted another taste of him first. The only other question is that of how the Sentinel / Guide Department want to handle the discovery of a new projecting empath, but I would hope that they’ll use some tact in handling Blair owing to the seriousness of the situation.”

The look on Banks’ face was thunderous, but he knew Joel was in the right, and his faint opportunity to break up the unlikely pairing was fast slipping away.

On the other hand, Jim was manfully hauling back on his desire to let the primal sentinel in him loose and tear Simon limb from limb for his verbal and emotional attacks on his Guide. After a few tense moments, and a gentle touch from Blair, who, even hurting as he was had no intention of leaving his Sentinel unguided, Jim relaxed minutely.

“Thanks, Joel. That’s good news. It’s good to know that there won’t be any trumped-up charges against Blair,” this uttered with a sideways glare at Banks. “If Blair’s willing, we’ll drop by the Department now, to see just what they have in mind. I’d rather get it over with for Blair’s sake, so he can begin to heal.”

“OK, Chief?” he whispered in Blair’s ear. “Let’s get it over, shall we? The sooner it’s done, the sooner we can get home, babe.”

Knowing that a visit to the Sentinel / Guide Department building was probably the last thing his Guide wanted to do, Jim was relieved when Blair didn’t fight him on his decision, but nodded slightly against Jim’s shoulder. He stood with Jim, and straightened up a little, but couldn’t look at the others in the office, even though he could easily feel Joel’s sincere sympathy. The sheer animosity directed at him by Banks on the other hand was enough to make him press his face into Jim’s shoulder, even as the Sentinel’s comforting arm wrapped around his waist, and he was pulled in close and tucked in to Jim’s side.

Nodding to Joel, but ignoring his captain completely, knowing full well that one more thoughtless word from that source would lead to a full primal challenge, Jim quickly exited the office and MCU.

*

As the Sentinel / Guide Department was less than a block away from the PD, Jim elected to walk, partly to give Blair a little while longer to try to regain some sort of balance. However, even shielded physically and mentally by the Sentinel from passers-by, Blair was shuddering with a mixture of trepidation and reaction by the time they pushed open the main doors, such that the young woman at the reception desk, a sensitive herself, moved forward swiftly to wordlessly point the pair towards a quiet room immediately off the foyer.

Leaving them in the hushed, low-stimulus environment to make themselves comfortable in the plush overstuffed sofas, she called up to the Director’s office and rapidly appraised Kingsley’s secretary of the situation. Less than ten minutes later, Adam Kingsley himself knocked gently on the quiet room door, and peered in at the visitors. He could tell immediately that the Guide was in a bad way, rapidly heading towards emotional meltdown as he overloaded on guilt and fear.

“Sentinel Detective Ellison,” he said softly, addressing the primal sentinel in deferential tones. “Perhaps you would like to take your Guide to a bonding room for a few hours? We would be honoured if you would make use of the facilities we can offer you.”

Jim responded with a sharp nod of acquiescence, and, literally lifting his Guide in his arms, he followed Adam to a bonding suite further down a corridor at the back of the building. Adam opened the door, then stepped aside, prepared to give the pair the utmost respect and privacy. He left them with a quick smile, and closed the door behind them.

*

When the Sentinel was sure they were alone, he directed his attention solely on the young man in his arms, first settling him on the soft bed in the corner of the room. He knew that Blair might well be shy of any sexual touch right now, and understandably so, but he desperately needed for them both to reconnect fully for the sake of the sanity of them both, so he stripped Blair as gently as he could, swiftly following suit, and joined his Guide on the bed.

Sensing Blair’s panicked withdrawal, Jim pulled the trembling body close until he was spooned up tightly behind the Guide.

“Look, babe, I know it’s all too much right now, but we need to reconnect, Blair. I swear I’m not going to penetrate you – you aren’t ready for that again yet - but I just want to make you feel good so the bond’ll kick in. You know we need this, babe.”

Receiving no reply, but no denial either, he went with his instincts and began to stroke the small body with gentle, non-aggressive movements, until he began to feel Blair relax incrementally under his touch. Trying hard not to hurt the sore spots, or dredge up unwanted feelings of violation, he tuned his senses fully on his Guide’s responses, and was finally rewarded with a slight hardening of the lax penis. Gently reaching round to take it in his hand, he was stopped in his tracks by his partner’s timid entreaty. “Please, Jim, I can’t. Please don’t be angry with me, please. I love you so much but I’m so scared...”

“Oh baby, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I know you’re too sore, and I honestly didn’t intend to penetrate you, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear me just now? But we need to connect, babe, you know we do!” Turning in his arms, Blair sought the comfort of a kiss, instinctively trusting his Sentinel not to progress it further than he wanted, now he had expressed his fears. Jim was happy to reciprocate, and kept the kiss gentle and unthreatening, even though the primal sentinel within wanted to push his Guide down and nail him to the mattress.

No longer fearing pain and domination, Blair tried valiantly to let go of his fears and was grateful to feel the beginnings of arousal and a deep-seated need for his Sentinel’s claiming. Jim responded in kind, using the utmost control over his demanding instincts to keep all touches unthreatening, gentle and loving rather than passionate. He was rewarded by the feeling of his Guide gently humping his leg and moaning softly against the skin of his throat.

“I want to touch you again, OK, love?” he whispered, and was further rewarded by a tiny nod and kiss against the hollow of his throat.

Needing no other encouragement, he took hold of his Guide’s gradually hardening penis in the most unthreatening touch possible, stroking oh-so-slowly until Blair wailed softly and came over his hand. It was enough to send his way over-stretched feelings into overdrive, and he followed suit mere milliseconds later, and the bond sang between them, comforting, nurturing and supporting in a golden burst of light and understanding.

*

It was around 6 am the following morning when Jim woke again after several hours of healing sleep. Turning his head slightly, he looked at the face pressed against his chest. Blair was still asleep, but not particularly peacefully it would appear, judging by the minute twitches he was making, and the frown between his brows.

Jim noted with dismay the dark shadows like bruises under the closed eyes, which almost matched the colour of those on his cheek and chin from Mancuso’s blow. His lip had scabbed over, but was still sore and puffy-looking. However, Jim, although well aware that he was somewhat biased, still considered Blair’s face to be the most beautiful sight in his world.

Painfully aware of his bladder protesting, and feeling itchy and uncomfortable from the dried semen on his groin and belly, Jim slid carefully from the bed and made his way to the adjoining bathroom, which he was pleased to find fully stocked with sentinel-friendly toiletries, fluffy towels and even two soft robes hanging on the door. Taking care of business with a sigh of relieved pleasure, he decided to have a quick shower and shave, then, donning one of the robes, he moved to the intercom on the wall beside the door. Speaking quietly so as not to wake his lover, he connected with Reception, and was answered by a friendly female voice wishing him a good morning and asking how she could be of assistance.

Realising that he was ravenous, which was hardly surprising in view of the fact that he and Sandburg had had nothing since the cup of coffee at the loft the previous afternoon, Jim requested coffee and pastries for two, and asked if they could be provided with either fresh clothes or have their own cleaned. Finally he asked if the Department could provide some more of the dressings and antiseptic ointment required for Blair’s injuries, since they had arrived with just what they were wearing, and the truck was still in the PD garage. The cheerful voice replied that the breakfast and medical supplies would be with them in about 15 minutes, and that she would bring along fresh scrubs for them both to wear while their clothes were washed and dried. Thanking her, Jim turned from the intercom to see that Blair had roused, and was kneeling on the bed, hands stretched out towards him. His complexion was pallid, and the eyes were wounded and deeply unhappy as he said, “Jim, man, why are we here? I’m scared – please let’s go home, please!”

Stung with pity and also a feeling of guilt and responsibility for creating the whole situation, Jim for once responded with uncalled-for but understandable irritation, which dissipated the moment the words left his mouth.

“For Christ’s sake Sandburg, just suck it up! We’re here because we have to be, so stop whining!” he snapped, then looked on in horror and self-disgust at the effect his cruel words had on the young Guide.

Blair’s face took on a look of total devastation, wide eyes filling with tears as he shut down and curled up into a ball on the bed. “Knew you’d get sick of me – I’m too dirty. A freak and a killer,” he whispered brokenly and began to sob as if his heart was breaking.

“Oh shit, babe! I’m sorry,” Jim hurried to his side and pulled the unresisting bundle into his arms. “I didn’t mean it – well, I sort of did, but I didn’t think you’d react like this. Surely you can tell I love you? But I am only human, love, and even Superman gets angry sometimes....”

Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down, Blair sniffled, then murmured, “I’m sorry, Jim. I know you didn’t mean to upset me, really, it’s just that I’m having such a hard time believing that you won’t get fed up with me ‘cos I’m a head-case, and likely to stay one for a long time.”

“Yeah, but you’re my head-case!” was the reply, which provoked a tiny giggle and watery sniff.

Pushing Blair away from him a little, Jim continued, “I ordered breakfast, which’ll be here shortly, so why don’t you have a quick shower now? You’re a little ripe there, Chief”.

Nodding his agreement, and wanting to do anything to please his Sentinel, Blair hurried to the bathroom and after using the commode, he turned on the shower and was about to step under the spray when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He gazed at the battered reflection staring dolefully back at him, incidentally realising that he hadn’t really seen himself, except for the occasional brief glimpse in passing, since his kidnapping.

He was disturbed by what he saw. His eyes looked ancient and full of dark secrets, while his cheekbones looked more prominent because of his weight loss. The hair was longer than he was used to wearing it, although not really quite long enough to tie back yet. Worst of all was the tattooed chain encircling his throat, and he raised his wrists to gaze sadly at the matching ones there. He didn’t hear Jim come in, but looked up to see his reflection behind him, as the man stepped forward and pulled Blair gently back to rest on his chest.

“There’s nothing there which is your fault, Chief,” he murmured, “And nothing about you is anything but beautiful to me. Your face will heal quickly, and you can cut or grow your hair, whatever you like. You’ll put on weight eventually with some TLC, and we’ll deal with the ‘head-case’ things as they occur, OK?” He finished with a gentle kiss near the spot where the bite mark was, deliberately not thinking about, or mentioning the many scars on the rest of his lover’s body, or the awful tattoos.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you cleaned up so we can grab some breakfast.”

When they left the bathroom, both now wrapped in the snug robes, the young receptionist was waiting for them with a trolley laden with a fresh pot of coffee, a good range of breakfast pastries, fresh orange juice and a small selection of dressings and ointments. She had even provided today’s newspaper, and after collecting their clothes for cleaning, pointed out two sets of scrubs and slippers for them to use in the meantime.

Thanking her for her kindness, Jim moved to the trolley, while Blair graced her with a shy smile and quiet, “Thanks.”

Smiling in return, she left them in peace to enjoy the first excellent cup of coffee.

Perhaps an hour later, after they had eaten their fill, finished the coffee and juice, and attended to Blair’s bites and scratches, they changed into the scrubs. They were both feeling much more human, although Blair’s anxiety was only barely being contained.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Adam Kingsley, who was accompanied by Scientific Officer Gerry Larsen. A glance at the latter had Blair backing away in terror, as visions of laboratories and experiments flashed through his fertile mind.

Growling in irritation at the two arrivals, Jim swiftly reeled in his Guide, and held him protectively while glaring at the tactless intrusion.

Hurriedly moving to defuse the situation, Director Kingsley sent a quelling glare at his companion, who actually was looking greedily at the young Guide, then addressed the pair with hands held out unthreateningly.

“Jim, Blair, I’m so sorry for upsetting you like this. It certainly wasn’t my intention, and there really isn’t any need for worry, Blair. We honestly have no intentions of performing any type of intrusive or unpleasant ‘Dr Frankenstein’ style experiments on you, my boy. That really isn’t what this meeting is about. Perhaps we can all sit down comfortably and I’ll explain what the tests involve?”

With that, he seated himself on the sofa furthest away from the door, in an overt gesture to imply that the Sentinel’s escape route remained unimpeded. Indicating that Dr Larsen should sit beside him, he waited until Jim and Blair settled on the opposite sofa, thighs and shoulders pressed close together, before beginning his explanation.

“Firstly, Blair, let’s make it quite clear that we don’t regard you as a freak. Although we’re excited that you appear to be the first projecting empath to be reported in at least two decades, you are rare but not unique. The genetic variations that create sentinels and guides are completely normal, as you know, and you simply have an extra, also normal, variation which enhances your abilities even more. In your case, your exceptional ability may have remained dormant even after your empathy came on line, but I feel, as does Gerry here, that perhaps it took bonding with an alpha sentinel like Jim here to switch it on, so to speak. Even then, it’s quite likely that you would have remained unaware of it had you not undergone a traumatic event such as the attack at the PD. Whatever the explanation, son, you are not a freak; just a very gifted young man.” Looking at the pair, and seeing some relief and a lot of interest in their combined gazes, he continued.

“What we propose, Blair, is to conduct some tests and run a few scans to try and determine the strength of your power, if at all possible, and to measure to what extent different stimuli can affect you. The whole point of the exercise is to try and give you some confidence in your control so that you aren’t in a permanent state of anxiety that you’re going to react inappropriately at the wrong moment. Your ability is a gift to embrace, not to fear.”

Seeing Jim’s nod of approval, and feeling the gentle squeeze to his thigh, Blair let out a deep breath and daringly read the Director’s aura, relieved to find that the man was sincere. Trusting in his Sentinel’s instincts and the results of his own empathic reading, Blair nodded and whispered in reply. “Thanks for explaining everything to me, sir. I know I probably seemed to be over-reacting, but I actually haven’t studied guide abilities that much; only where it affected sentinel performance. I didn’t even know I had guide genes as I only got tested in March, and I hadn’t had the results before I got snatched. I guess I panicked after the attack, but I still didn’t mean for the detective to die, sir, truly I didn’t.”

He was comforted to feel Jim’s arm loop around his shoulders, and was even more relieved when Adam was quick to reassure him. “We know that, son. It was a tragic accident, but one brought on by himself, sad to say. You can’t be blamed for a mental ‘push’ any more than if you had pushed him physically in the cause of self-defence.

“One other thing though, you say you hadn’t been tested until this March. Can you tell me how it is that you failed to have the routine tests at five years and ten years as the law demands?”

Ducking his head, Blair mumbled something about his Mom.

“Speak up, babe,” directed Jim kindly. “That might work for Sentinel hearing, but I don’t think they can hear you over there.” He tried to keep his tone light so Blair wouldn’t feel intimidated, but it was obvious to all that his Guide was deeply embarrassed.

“I didn’t really go to school when I was travelling around with Naomi, my Mom, because we didn’t stay around in one place for long enough,” he explained. “She didn’t really believe in the power of the State, so she made sure we stayed under the radar as far as tests were concerned. I only had the genetic test done because I felt that it was time I know for sure if there was a sentinel out there who needed me. She’ll have a cow when she finds out I’ve bonded to one of the pigs,” he finished, only half-jokingly.

Peeking up at his Sentinel from beneath his eyelashes he added for Jim’s ears only, “I’m sorry, man, it’s just the way she is. She goes on protest marches and stuff.”

“S’OK, Chief,” replied Jim, although he had to squash down a strong flash of resentment towards the woman he had yet to meet. “Not your fault; and at least we’re together now as we should be.”

Nodding in agreement, Adam proposed that they adjourn for an hour or so, then meet down at the testing centre adjoining the department. He was happy to explain exactly what tests Blair could expect to undergo, and stressed that he was confident that they could be completed within a few days. Assuming correctly that Jim would be staying with his Guide for the duration, he also suggested that Jim contact someone at the PD to explain the situation and to go to the loft to collect any necessities they felt the Department couldn’t provide. He added that they might prefer to use Department clothing, at least as far as Blair was concerned, as it was easier to get in and out of scrubs (and the occasional detested backless hospital gown). Once left alone again for the time being, Jim pulled Blair into his arms for a reassuring cuddle.

“Well, Chief, what do you think? It doesn’t sound so bad – no lab rat type testing and no scalpels involved. You could really benefit from the control exercises as well, huh?”

Still a bit apprehensive, but much more settled in his mind, Blair looked up at Jim and replied, “You’re right Jim, and I’m sorry I went off like that. I think I can cope with an MRI or two, and I do need to know more about this power and how to control it. Maybe if I can get a real handle on it, it could turn out to be useful to you in our partnership – that is, if you still want a partnership...” he tailed off, a little unsure of his presumption.

“That’s one thing you should never feel you need to ask, baby,” replied his Sentinel, smiling down on him gently. “This partnership’s going to be the best thing that ever hit Cascade and the Cascade PD.”

And Blair believed him.


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