Friendship and Family Matters by katef, illustrated by PattRose

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Blair was introspective on the drive back to the loft from Cascade General following Jim’s release after being held overnight for observation; Jim having been knocked unconscious by the suspect they had been trying to question.

Although still a little groggy and suffering from the type of headache he needed to control by dialling down his senses and holding them there firmly, Jim had declared himself good to drive, and had helped his Guide into the cab of the truck which Simon had arranged to be delivered to the hospital. It had had to be picked up from where it had been left outside the Castle Lumber Company buildings; that being the location of the suspect, Albert Delaney’s, business.

Knowing through their shared link that Blair wasn’t inclined to open up with his thoughts just yet, Jim simply concentrated on keeping his emotions in check and sending calming ‘vibes’ to his young companion.

As they drew up outside 852 Prospect, he finally broke into Blair’s musings, saying, “Those have to be worth a buck or more each, baby. Care to share your thoughts with your Sentinel, huh?”

Obtaining the desired response - a tiny smile from his anxious-looking Guide - he continued.

“Well, anything I should be concerned about, babe? Or are we good?”

“I’m sorry, Jim,” came the quiet reply. “I don’t mean to upset you. I’m just having a bit of a hard time processing everything that’s happened over the last 24 hours. I’d like to talk over things with you – you need to know after all – but I don’t know where to begin. It’s so muddled right now, I can’t even begin to explain how I feel….”

“That’s what the bond’s for, baby,” replied Jim softly. “How’s about we get ourselves cleaned up and do a bit of comfort snuggling in bed, hey? I know I wouldn’t mind lying down again, in spite of being confined to a hospital bed for the night. Being woken every two hours to check on possible concussion isn’t my idea of a restful night.”

“OK, Jim. I could do that,” responded Blair, looking pretty rumpled and tired himself having been woken just as often, which was hardly surprising since he’d shared his Sentinel’s bed.

Locking up the truck they made their way into the building, with Blair tucked against his Sentinel’s side as normal. As soon as they climbed into the ancient elevator, Jim leaned down and kissed his Guide gently.

“You did real good there, kiddo,” he murmured. “I owe you, and so does the new Mrs Delaney, even if she doesn’t realise it yet!”

Blair blushed a little at the praise and ducked his head before looking up into his Sentinel’s eyes, his expression one of gratitude tinged with pure adoration. For his part, Jim couldn’t fail to be amazed at the healing effect a simple compliment could have on his Guide’s damaged ego, and promised himself he would offer them as often as possible.

“Thanks Jim. You don’t how much that means to me, even though I have such a hard time believing in myself. I never want to let you down.”

“You couldn’t do that even if you tried,” came the sincere response, murmured while Jim stroked the soft skin of Blair’s cheek just below the beautiful and earnest blue eyes. Feeling the sap rising to an alarming degree, but not giving a damn, Jim pulled him in for a hug, which they held until the elevator finally arrived at the third floor.

Moving as one to #307, Jim let them into the loft and made for the kitchen after hanging his and Blair’s coats up.

“Tea, Chief?” he enquired, filling the kettle. “I’m going to need something soothing to take with these meds, although I don’t really need them with you to help me with controlling the pain dial.”

“Yes, please, Jim. And you should still take the meds to give your pain control a break…”

“You got it, Mom,” Jim replied with a smile, and collected the necessary tea and mugs.

“How’s about you freshen up and go on up to bed, and I’ll bring the tea up when I’m ready?”

Blair tensed minutely then got his reactions under control. He hoped Jim hadn’t noticed his automatic response to the mention of ‘bed’, but of course the Sentinel would hardly have missed it. He felt bad that Jim might take it as a slight – it really wasn’t – it was just the conditioning kicking in from his stint as Galbini’s sex object. He threw a pained glance at his lover, and opened his mouth to apologise, but Jim beat him to it.

“It’s fine, Chief. I’m not mad at you. It’s just that old PTSD response catching you unawares again, isn’t it? Lighten up, kiddo, and I’ll join you in a sec.”

Smiling in relief, Blair nodded and made his way to the bathroom to change out of the crumpled scrubs and wash up, making his way up to the large bedroom where he settled down on the side of the bed furthest away from the door as was their habit.

A few minutes later, after a quick pit-stop of his own at the bathroom, Jim mounted the stairs carrying the hot tea and smiled at the picture in front of him.

As usual, Blair had snuggled down under the sheet, as he still didn’t feel comfortable exposed, and was deeply ashamed of the scars on his body despite his lover’s protestations that they didn’t affect his beauty. Although saddened by the reason behind his Guide’s shyness, the view of his face peeking out from under the bedclothes was adorable, and Jim smiled warmly whilst putting the mugs of tea on the nightstand.

“Move over, gorgeous,” he said with a suggestive leer. “I need my snuggle now – injured party here!” but said in such a way that he hoped Blair wouldn’t immediately be stricken by guilt, as he had been ever since the incident at the lumber yard. He was relieved when Blair only smiled a little at him this time, but knew that before the day was through they were going to have to talk.

Lying face to face, Jim reached out to touch his Guide, but as always kept his movements gentle and unthreatening until Blair relaxed. He always made a point of not covering the smaller man, which they had found out through past experience had tended to lead to panicked flashbacks of being pinned down by Blair’s many abusers, so either faced him or lifted the smaller body to lie on top of him.

“I think we both need that bond now,” he said quietly. He could feel through their link that Blair needed his Sentinel’s strength and protection right now, as much as he needed to reaffirm his total commitment to Jim. Likewise the Sentinel needed the thorough grounding that full imprinting with his Guide would provide.

“I want to try the full bond again, please, Jim. I think I’m ready and it’s been long enough for me to have healed up properly.”

“Are you sure, love? I don’t want to pressure you at all, although there’s nothing I’d like more,” Jim replied feelingly, trying very hard not to overwhelm the young man with his surging excitement. After all, they had only bonded fully once, when he had penetrated his Guide under trying circumstances for them both. He was well aware that, even though Blair’s hurts had healed, there was residual scar tissue which could lead to discomfort, especially when added to the nerves that the kid was sure to have. Apart from that occasion, which had actually turned out to be mind-blowing for them both, they had made do with hand jobs, cuddles and the occasion blow job when both were fully relaxed and in tune with each other.

“If you’re sure, baby, then how about you ride me again? That way you are in control, and you can watch me all the time.” He had given this a lot of thought, and really believed that this should be their position of choice, as it avoided the trapped feelings Blair suffered from when on his back, and the degrading submissiveness of being taken on his hands and knees.

Knowing what Jim had in mind, and loving him for it, Blair smiled, and reached up to kiss his lover gently. “Thanks, Jim. I really appreciate the thought, and I want to make this good for you.”

“Always do, sweetheart, whatever we do,” came the reply, and Jim rolled them so that Blair lay full length on top of him.

With mouths locked in a passionate kiss, he stroked and touched his Guide gently but firmly, and Blair reciprocated until the pair of them were well into the throes of heated love and lust.

“Get me ready, please?” gasped Blair, turning so that Jim could have easy access to him. By this time he was well beyond nerves, and moaned in pleasure as Jim stretched him, even though he could feel some discomfort from the scar tissue. This was Jim, his Sentinel, and Jim would never force him.

As soon as he felt ready, he turned back to his lover, who had propped himself up on a mound of pillows, and was waiting, cock hard and begging for attention. Blair reached for the lube, and gently slicked up the engorged member, knowing just how to touch to stimulate without pain or teasing.

“Ah, Chief, so good!” groaned Jim. “Need you now, baby!”

And Blair moved up the bed and positioned himself above the large cock, which he gradually sat down on, taking it in in small increments until they were fully joined.

“You OK, Babe, because I need to move!”

And Blair really was OK, and they soared into the heat and healing of the bond together.

*

In the drowsy aftermath of love-making, the pair cuddled together, sharing a combination of word and thought to mull over the issues raised during their first case together.

As an experienced police officer and former Ranger, Jim had long been used to controlling his emotions as regards crime scenes and criminals, even if it was much harder to do the same when it came to their victims. Also, as he had told Blair at the hospital, danger was sometimes unavoidable, and ‘came with the turf’ for an on-duty cop. However, he was well aware that Blair, however well-travelled and culturally adept, was still very young and strangely innocent of violence, despite his traumatic few months with the crime boss, Galbini. His Guide was a gentle soul; deeply hurt by past misuse for sure; but he was also a strong empath, and was naturally disposed to try to see the best in everyone. It followed therefore that the use of his newly discovered ‘kinetic’ powers caused immense disquiet to Blair himself, even if forced into it for self-defence, as with Davidson and Mancuso - the two crooked cops who had attacked him - and Delaney, who had (more importantly as far as Blair was concerned) attacked and injured his beloved Sentinel.

It fell to Jim therefore to try and offer comfort and support at a time when Blair’s guilt was threatening to overwhelm him, and he did so firstly by sending all the calming thoughts he could manage through their link. He was finding this more and more natural, and discovered that the benefits were mutual, with them both relaxing into the cushion of each other’s shared confidences.

Turning the sleepy face up towards him, he said, “I know you’re still hurting right now Chief, and I can feel your uncertainty, but I promise you, baby, you made all the right moves. First you made the connection between Delaney and the U, and recognised the method of killing for what it really was, then you used your power to protect both of us, for which I’m extremely grateful. And think on this, kiddo. Delaney was only knocked out briefly, enough to temporarily disable him, so you must subconsciously be employing the control techniques they showed you at the Sentinel / Guide Department. There really is no need for all this doom and gloom!” And he finished his little speech with a kiss on the end of Blair’s nose, which made his Guide go cross-eyed for a moment; making him look so cute Jim couldn’t help but hug him even closer.

Swallowing hard and blinking back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks at Jim’s words, Blair hugged him back with all his might. “Thanks Jim. You make me feel so much better. I can’t promise I’m ever going to be really cool about police work, but I’m going to keep doing my best, always.”

“I know that, love. With you, it’s a done deal, and I’ll keep doing my best also to remember just how difficult this job is for you, and support you when things are getting too much.

“Now”, he continued, wanting to change the subject to something much more cheerful for both of them. “I’ve been thinking about what Eli said when he came over. I know you haven’t had much chance to talk to him lately, apart from thanking him for sending your stuff over, that is, so I was wondering if maybe you should call him up and ask if he’s had any more thoughts about how you could go back to Rainier, at least for a few hours a week.”

He was rewarded by Blair’s now fully alert and dumbfounded expression gazing back at him.

“Oh, Jim, do you mean it? Can I? Oh man, that’d be so cool! I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to be with you, man, and I want to work with you...” and, aware that he was babbling, he hid his face against the muscular chest beneath him.

Jim, fully aware of the heat from the blushing skin pressed to him, let the kid down lightly. “Hey, baby, I know you won’t abandon me – I get that – I just think you should get a little something out of our deal. I want you to keep in with academia, Chief. It’ll be good for you – Hell, it could be good for both of us in the long term - so stop with the angst and enjoy, OK?”

Nodding wordlessly against his Sentinel’s chest, Blair tightened his arms as much as he could, and let himself believe that his life could really get back on track now he was under the protection of this wonderful man.

*

As it turned out, they were both so exhausted following the incident and its aftermath that they ended up sleeping peacefully for the rest of the day, not rousing until early evening. Jim decided that there was simply no point in going in to the PD at that time, so he rang Simon’s office and left a message with Rhonda that they would be in first thing in the morning.

Eventually dragging themselves out of bed, mainly because of the siren call of the bathroom, they showered companionably and went in search of edible, as opposed to hospital, food, which was sadly lacking in quality even in the Sentinel / Guide ward.

The rest of the evening was spent cuddling up on the sofa in front of mindless TV until they both decided that perhaps returning to bed was a pretty good idea.

*

The next morning both woke early due to the prolonged ‘bed’ time they had enjoyed the previous day. After their customary shared shower, Blair helped Jim in the kitchen to prepare a simple but satisfying breakfast of eggs and toast.

After the clean-up, there was still a while to go before they had to leave for the PD, as Jim had no intention of going in too early. His head still ached uncomfortably despite the pain control, and the bruising on his forehead where the paperweight had struck him was now looking spectacular. He noticed how Blair’s eyes kept straying to the small ‘office’ they had created under the stairs, but which Blair had seemed disinclined to use up until now.

“What’s up Chief, you need something?” he queried.

“Uh, do you think I could…um…spend a little while sorting through my papers, Jim? I won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be ready to go when you are...” came the uncertain response.

Jim suddenly realised why the young man wasn’t using the office – he hadn’t felt that he was entitled to take time for himself away from his Sentinel and protector – so Jim knew he would have to straighten him out on that one.

“Sure, babe,” he said with an encouraging smile. “That’s what it’s there for, after all. You’ll need some quiet time and a bit of privacy when you start getting to grips with all that academic stuff at Rainier. Speaking of which, why don’t you give Eli a call now before we leave so we can get things in motion?”

His answer was written all over his Guide’s expressive face – joy, amazement and gratitude – so much so that Jim had to swallow round the lump that seemed to lodge suddenly in his throat. He simply hadn’t realised just how much the young man had curtailed his lifestyle and normal wishes and actions in order to fit in with what he assumed the Sentinel needed in a companion. Add to that the horrors he had endured in Galbini’s household, and it was a wonder Blair was even functioning.

“Hey,” he said gently, “no need for you to be upset, baby. Just give Dr Stoddard a call, and then we’ll make tracks for the PD after you’ve sorted out the office.” And with that he gathered the small body in for a hug which was returned ten-fold.

Sniffing slightly, Blair eventually pulled away, and offering his Sentinel a somewhat watery smile, he walked over to the cordless phone mounted on the wall.

Grinning in response, Jim moved away to give his Guide some privacy, and began sorting through the kitchen cupboards to make a list for some grocery shopping that they would need to do after work.

Although he knew it wasn’t really proper for him to listen in to Blair’s private call, he salved his conscience by thinking that, if there was any disappointment brewing because the professor had re-considered his offer to Blair, Jim would rather know it immediately so he could begin to pick up the pieces. Therefore, he opened his hearing enough to hear both sides of the conversation, and was moved to smile gently to himself at the genuine affection that came over the line from Eli in response to Blair’s shy introduction.

“My dear boy! How good it is to talk to you at last! I was beginning to think that your work with the esteemed Sentinel Detective Ellison was going to take up all your time after all. I was talking with Lottie Bristow” (the Professor they had consulted in the Delaney case) “and she told me how you two were tracking down potential suspects! I just know it was your insight that led to the Mayan connection, dear boy...you have always been so intuitive....”

Finally pausing for breath long enough for a blushing Blair to make his tentative enquiry into returning to Rainier, there was barely a pause before the enthusiastic response was forthcoming.

“But of course we must arrange something, dear boy! I know it’s too late to enter the doctoral programme this year, and I recall that your partner advised me as to how much of your time would be spent at the Police Department, but perhaps you would consider taking on a part-time position as my researcher and assistant? I’m putting together the basis for an expedition to Borneo, and desperately need someone reliable to help out. I don’t suppose you’d be able to accompany me on the expedition itself, more’s the pity, but then it’ll probably be for at least a year, and I’m sure your Detective Ellison won’t want to part with you for that long! But anyway, there’s a good deal of preparation to be done before then, and you could maybe even get a paper or two out of some aspects of it. What do you say, son? Are you interested?”

Almost overcome with gratitude and happiness at the professor’s enthusiastic offer, Blair could barely stammer out his thanks. Looking over at Jim for his agreement, he accepted, but explained that Jim would have to be consulted regarding dates and hours.

“But of course, dear boy! Wouldn’t have expected anything else. So how about the pair of you come to my office tomorrow evening and we’ll thrash out the details?”

Glancing again at Jim, and receiving another nod of assent, he thanked Eli effusively again, and ended the call.

When he turned to Jim, he glowed with a depth of emotion Jim had never seen as yet on the beautiful face, and Jim automatically opened his arms to receive the bundle of happy Blair that hurtled in his direction.

“Oh thank you, thank you!” Blair choked out, almost crying with pleasure. “It’s so great – I can work with you and go to the U as well. I never thought I’d ever get any life back, but then you claimed me. What did I do to deserve you? I love you so much...” and then he did begin to cry in earnest, but for the best of reasons.

Jim simply smiled indulgently and held him while he rode out the storm of emotion, and once the young man had regained his equilibrium, he gently steered him towards the bathroom so he could splash some water on his face, and suggested he spend a few minutes in the office, sorting out a few papers before they had to leave for the PD. Smiling, Blair did as he said, and spent a happy half hour setting up his ancient laptop, and putting his Sentinel notes in some sort of order.

Jim was enchanted to hear Blair humming to himself – a sure sign of true contentment, and was moved to congratulate himself just a little on the success of his plan.

*

Blair was fairly vibrating with barely-controlled excitement during the drive to the PD, and Jim was smugly high-fiving himself on providing the stimulus to open up his Guide’s expectations and hopes for a future he thought he’d never have. He was honest enough to recognise that it wasn’t completely selfless – after all, a happy and contented Guide made for a satisfied (or in his case, self-satisfied) Sentinel – but in view of what the poor kid’s future would likely have been in Galbini’s clutches, the only way was up, as the saying went.

Mind working overtime with ideas and prospects, Blair didn’t even tense up with nerves as he had done on all previous trips to the PD, and was oblivious of the reception the pair were getting from passing cops, particularly uniforms.

Jim, on the other hand, had no intention of letting down his guard, and listened in shamelessly to each and every comment.

Sorting through the various whispered communications and the accompanying emotions behind them, he was surprised but pleased to pick up plenty of approving and even admiring references to his Guide’s ability. Sure, there were a few snide comments about ‘freaky shit’, and ‘weird little faggot’, but these were few and far between and obviously stifled swiftly once the accusers were aware of the Sentinel’s presence.

Smiling slightly and with a thoughtful expression on his face, Jim held his Guide close, and entered the bullpen to a loud and enthusiastic greeting. Caught unawares, Blair startled and huddled close to Jim, gripping his jacket with both hands, until he realised that the sentiment behind the uproar was genuine and good natured. Relaxing by degrees, he glanced up at Jim to register Jim’s approval, then moved away slightly to be pulled into several hugs and back-slapping embraces as the other Major Crimes detectives congratulated him on both helping to solve a difficult cold case, and for his extraordinary contribution in the arrest of the suspect, protecting his downed partner at the same time.

After a few minutes of genial conversation, and enquiries into Jim’s health, the group broke up when Simon called out from his office for Jim and Blair to enter, “My office, now!”

As per usual, Blair once again retreated into himself, and slid behind Jim’s broad back, but Jim noted that the sour stench of outright fear was absent, replaced by the lighter scent of tension and some small anxiety. Maybe his Guide was getting a handle on his perception of Simon’s intimidating behaviours, and also realised that his Sentinel would never allow the big captain to hurt him either emotionally or physically with impunity.

Hoping this was indeed the case; he pushed Blair ahead of him into Captain Banks’s office, and smiled at the man in cheerful enquiry.

“Sit down, both of you,” growled Simon. Rolling one of his precious cigars in his fingers, he seemed to take a moment to compose himself, then said, “Good to see you back in one piece, Ellison, even if your face is in glorious Technicolor. You too, Sandburg. I’m pleased to say that the Delaney case will be open and shut, thanks to his full confession, but it’s likely that a psych evaluation will prove that he’s too mentally compromised to go to trial, so he’ll cop an insanity plea. Still, he won’t be seeing the outside of Conover for many years, if ever, so you can say the outcome is a success. Just wanted to let you know that I appreciate your input, Sandburg, and to invite you two to the poker night at my place this Friday.”

Blair’s mouth had dropped open in shock, but Jim grinned at his Captain. “Why, thanks, Simon, yeah, poker night’ll be good. Won’t it, Chief,” he added, nudging Blair in the ribs with his elbow.

“Uh...uh...yes sir, thank you sir,” came the bewildered reply. “Um...do you need us to bring anything?”

“Just yourselves this time, kid,” replied Simon, suddenly realising he was smiling at the young man, and that the reaction was perfectly genuine and spontaneous. Pulling himself up short before he could get sappy – (Heaven forbid!) - he added, “OK, what are you still doing here? Back to work, both of you!”

“Yes Sir!” they responded simultaneously, and headed for the door, Jim grinning widely in satisfaction, and Blair still reeling in shock. He’d been invited to poker night! One of the most sacred rituals of the cop closed society! Wow! Perhaps he did stand a chance of being accepted after all.

The rest of the morning was taken up by finishing up the Delaney report, and catching up on the paperwork which had accumulated on Jim’s desk over the last few days.

“I think the damned stuff breeds spontaneously when I’m not here to see it,” he grumbled, tossing various memos to Blair to deal with, along with anything else he could get away with.

Blair typed assiduously and searched as necessary without complaint, since he was well used to such computer grunt work associated with studying at Rainier, and the fairly mindless tasks gave him ample opportunity to sort through the myriad thoughts racing around his brain.

He was thrilled with the idea of working with Eli again, and, knowing that of necessity it would only be a few hours a week, he was fairly certain he could manage to be away from Jim’s side without too much strain on their bond. Having said that, he was even more certain that neither of them would ever be able to be separated for very long periods without some sort of detrimental effects. Such effects would undoubtedly be particularly marked in his case, as the empath in him relied heavily on Jim’s physical and mental protection. He pondered as to whether he should suggest that they test the theory to see how long they could comfortably manage? It could well be that practice, coupled with the strengthening of the bond over time, could eventually mean they could comfortably be apart for reasonable periods. On the other hand, short of being medicated to suppress his empathy, or, in Jim’s case, to dampen the hyper senses, long-term or permanent separation was unthinkable. Since the thought of such separation terrified him, he ruthlessly quashed the unhappy thoughts before too much distress could leak out and alert Jim through their link.

Even so, he looked up guiltily when Jim nudged him with an eyebrow raised in tacit question.

“Sorry, Jim. I’m OK, just got a bit caught up in my thoughts for a moment,” he murmured, mostly truthfully. “Nothing to worry about,” and he treated his Sentinel to a completely unconscious dose of appealing, puppy dog eyes.

“Sure it isn’t,” Jim replied knowingly. “I think we may have to work on some of your anxieties, Chief, so you can actually enjoy your hours with Eli!”

Blair sent him a small relieved smile. He should have known that Jim would realise what was worrying him, as his Sentinel knew him intimately down to the deepest level. He supposed that he should be aggrieved or concerned that the other man understood him so well, but instead he simply felt loved and cherished in a way that he had never experienced before in his young life, not even from his mother.

Smiling with genuine happiness, he turned back to the computer and carried on with wading through the stack of forms.

*

After a lunch of subs from the deli just a block down from the PD, Jim got a call from Captain Sullivan from Vice. It was the first time he had spoken to the man since the Galbini bust, and he was somewhat wary, since he and his guide had been instrumental in exposing no less than four of the Vice cops as crooked. Two of them, Davidson and Mancuso, had been so deeply in that crime lord’s pocket that they had abused Blair when he was Galbini’s sex slave, and when they attacked him again at the PD in an attempt to frighten him into retracting his statement, he had unintentionally killed Davidson in self-defence in the first manifestation of the kinetic energy at his command as a projecting empath.

In view of their recent history, Jim was surprised when the man, politely enough, if not exactly affably, asked if Jim and Blair could assist in going over a crime scene.

According to Sullivan, there appeared to have been a random drive-by shooting at a strip club in the seediest part of Cascade’s red light district. Several of the clients and a couple of the dancers had been hit, plus the club’s manager; a known minor criminal who was mostly into pimping and prostitution. At least three were pronounced dead at the scene, and the others, including the manager, were in critical condition in Cascade General.

Basically, Sullivan needed sentinel expertise to back up that of the forensics department to try and find some evidence of who perpetrated the massacre, and why, since the manager seemed to be too small a player to attract a turf war type of shooting. He assured Jim that there would be full cooperation from the Detective on scene, and added that he had already spoken to Simon to get the go-ahead to approach Jim and Blair. Under the circumstances, Jim could hardly refuse, so he agreed to Sullivan’s request that they go straight to the scene. Replacing the handset, he stared at it distractedly for a few moments before turning to an anxious Blair, who was hovering at his elbow; having picked up on Jim’s mixed emotional response.

“Well, Chief, looks like we’re seconded to Vice for the afternoon,” he said with a wry half-smile, and looped his arm comfortingly around the young man’s shoulders when the predictable nervous reaction kicked in.

“Hey, babe, don’t get so worried. Sullivan sounded OK, just relieved when I agreed to help, so I don’t think we’ll have any trouble. Besides,” he continued with a frown, “Anyone says or tries anything around us, and I’m out of there, and he knows it!”

“OK, Jim,” replied Blair, gazing earnestly up into his eyes. “I know you’ll look out for me.” Then, after a deep, steadying breath, he added, “What is it they want you to look at, Jim?”

“It’s not going to be a barrel of laughs, I’m afraid,” was the grim reply. “There’s been a drive-by shooting at a strip club, and Sullivan wants me to take a look to see if there’s anything forensics have missed. I’m sorry, kiddo, but I’m going to need you with me on this one.”

“I’ll do my best, Jim, really. I know that I’ve got to get used to all kinds of scenes, so I’m good. I may not be quite so good after we get there, though,” he added in a brave attempt to lighten the situation.

Squeezing Blair’s shoulders amicably, Jim once again thanked the gods for his Guide’s resilience, and grabbing their coats, they made their way to the red light district and the torn up and blood spattered bar.

*

Having reached the general vicinity of the bar, they were forced to park up about a block away, and approached the cordoned off area. Showing their IDs to the cops at the barrier, they made their way forward and got their first real look at the crime scene.

The Blue Lagoon had been a sleazy strip joint-cum-bar-cum-brothel, catering for the lower class of john, but it was now a shattered wreck, with broken glass and splintered woodwork, liberally coated with blood splatter and other more grisly remains. Jim glanced down quickly at his Guide, who was growing paler by the second, and was only somewhat relieved to see that the bodies of both surviving and deceased victims had already been removed. Curling a protective and comforting arm round Blair’s shoulders, he whispered, “You really OK with this Chief? You can wait in the truck if you want....”

He was more than grateful when his spunky little Guide gulped and then replied firmly, “No way, Jim. You’ll need me when you get to work, so don’t worry – I’ll deal...I hope!” this last muttered almost sotto voce.

Giving him a reassuring smile, Jim led him forward towards the shattered front door. There they were met by one of the largest men Blair had ever seen, including Simon Banks, and he shied away automatically, totally intimidated. Growling, Jim stepped in front of him, only to be totally disarmed when the giant figure smiled and introduced himself as Detective Daniel Brown, newly transferred to the depleted Vice unit.

Surreptitiously reading the newcomer’s aura, Blair realised that, not only did the man appear to be genuinely friendly, but he also had low-level empathic capability, suggesting that there were Guide genes somewhere in his ancestry. Reassured, he crept out from behind his Sentinel’s broad back and smiled a little nervously up at the man. Daniel held out a huge paw and grinned in welcome. “Hi there, Guide Sandburg,” he rumbled. “Real glad to meet you, son. Your rep – well, both of your reps – precede you. I’m honoured to work with you.” So saying, he gently took Blair’s small hand in his own to shake.

Bristling with indignation, and shocked at his instinctive reaction, Jim couldn’t fail to suffer a fierce pang of jealous possessiveness, which was only disarmed by his Guide’s gentle touch on his arm and within his mind, reaffirming their mutual devotion.

Getting himself back under control with a minute full-body shake, he dredged up an almost genuine smile, and studied the man before him.

In his early thirties, Daniel was indeed huge, at least six five in stocking feet, and built like a line-backer. However, the intimidating stature was offset by a strong-jawed, open face, with twinkling green eyes and a ready smile, topped with light brown hair worn in a buzz cut. The fact that he obviously approved of Blair was the deciding factor as far as Jim was concerned, so he took the guy at face value, and asked how he wanted them to proceed, seeing that it was officially a Vice case.

“Well, forensics has been all over the scene for a while now, since the shooting took place in the early hours of the morning, just as things were winding down inside. There’s one eye witness, a street kid, who couldn’t give us much except that the assassin was covered in tattoos, was wearing a black do rag and denim vest, and riding a ‘really cool bike, dude’. Could fit any or all local bike gang members I guess. Plenty of spent shell cases and tyre marks from the bike out front.”

Jim looked thoughtful. Moving towards the tyre tracks with Blair clutching his arm to ground him, he peered at the distinctive tread, a frown of concentration wrinkling his brow.

“These look like they were laid down by a Harley Electra Glide. That’s a ‘really cool bike’ all right, but not one I’d have picked for a drive by,” he murmured. “I don’t know for sure, but I’ve got a hunch who may be involved, but no reason as to why yet. Let’s have a look around and see if we can come up with something concrete.”

Nodding in response, Dan turned towards the busted up door, while Blair glued himself to Jim’s side. Gazing in horrified awe at the extent of the damage he whispered, “Jim, man, what sort of weapon could do all that?”

“The ballistics guys and forensic firearms specialists would have to confirm it, Chief, but I’d say it was a ‘spray and pray’ job”.

He grinned at Blair’s bemused expression, and continued. “There’s an automatic machine pistol that gangers love to use for drive-bys. It’s called a MAC 10 45 ACP. Fires a shit load of shots in a wide arc, but isn’t exactly accurate, hence the term ‘spray and pray’. You just point and shoot and hope you hit something, or several somethings. Ideal for causing mayhem.”

“Oh, man,” whispered Blair, gulping down his automatic queasiness. “I guess it was just bad luck for the folks that got in the line of fire, then. Do you think it was meant as a warning to the club owner, Jim?”

“Yes, Chief, but pinning down the likely suspects and the reason behind it may be difficult to prove.”

Dan, who had been listening in to the conversation, said, “I think you’re on the nail about the warning part, son, but the manager, Carl Schiffer, wasn’t known for anything much more than running a stable of cheap girls and this dump. Pretty much a low-key sleaze-bag. Doesn’t look too hopeful that he’ll pull through to give us any relevant information either.”

Nodding in glum assent, Jim and Blair entered the building with Blair concentrating everything he had on his Sentinel, so he wouldn’t have to look too hard at the gore. After they had both donned latex gloves, Jim did a slow sweep of the bar area, with Blair murmuring non-stop irrelevancies, as it was the soothing sound of his voice rather than the content of his speech that grounded the Sentinel. Added to his gentle grip of Jim’s arm, and Jim found his senses clearer than he’d ever known, seeing with pin point clarity, and touching and feeling more than he ever had before.

Thus it was that he could make out the finest of lines in an apparently solid panel behind the bar itself, probably done with a laser. He could clearly make out several sets of fingerprints around the area, and called the nearest Crime Scene tech over to dust, record and photograph them. Then, with Blair’s help, he gingerly felt for a pressure point or mechanism which would open the section of panelling.

Mere seconds later, he pushed gently and the panel section swung open to reveal several plastic wrapped bundles of powder and a stash of greenbacks.

“Well, lookee here,” he crowed. “Guess we just found out the reason for the warning, Dan. If Schiffer was trying to expand the business into the drugs trade, he was asking for retaliation from the locals. I don’t think this is the work of a major player; more likely to be the guys who hang out on Grant and Jefferson.”

Grinning in conspiratorial glee, Dan slapped his shoulder. “Great job, Jim! This is just what we needed! This is also why we desperately need a Sentinel / Guide pair of our own in Vice – we can’t keep calling you away from your own case load. Maybe we’ll get lucky with the new ‘recruits’!”

“You’re welcome, Dan, but I couldn’t do this without Junior here,” Jim replied, hugging Blair to his side. “I don’t mind helping out when I can, though, but the better option would be to recruit some more established pairs as you say.

“Anyway, do you need us any longer, or are we good to go now?” This because he could tell Blair was wilting rapidly, not only from the reaction to being exposed to the gory scene, but also physically. The young man’s health and stamina was improving in leaps and bounds under Jim’s constant care and attention, but it was still only a matter of weeks since he was a half-starved sex slave, beaten and abused at will by a sadistic crime lord.

“Sure, Jim, Blair. Thanks again, and I’ll keep you in the loop as things progress, if you want?” said Dan, with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Yeah, definitely!” came the enthusiastic reply, and the partners shook the large detective’s hand in farewell, and returned to the truck.

Once seated, Jim pulled out his cell and reported in to Simon, quickly and succinctly filling him in on the findings at the scene. He also asked if they could call it a day, as Blair was drooping against the passenger window, fighting to keep his eyes open. Simon agreed in an apparently grudging tone, but Jim was sure he could detect a hint of genuine concern in the man’s gruff voice. Smiling, he ended the call, musing on how the big captain seemed to be coming round regarding his Guide. Perhaps he would eventually accept them after all, given time.

“Hey Chief, you OK to do a bit of grocery shopping on the way home? Shouldn’t take too long, then you can get an early night.”

Rousing himself with a shake, Blair smiled over at him. “Sure, Jim, I’ll be OK, honest, and we do need some more veggies and stuff if I’m going to do the stir fry I had in mind.”

“Fine, kid, and stir fry’s good with me, if you can stay awake long enough to do it!” Jim teased, and, starting up the truck they headed for the store and loft in that order.

*

The following morning it was a bright eyed and bushy tailed Blair who climbed into the truck with Jim to head out to the PD. Jim had ensured that there would be no nightmares for the young man following his exposure to the grisly crime scene by making gentle love to his Guide until Blair fell into a deep and restful sleep.

“You know, Chief,” said Jim with a laugh, “You make a pretty good stir fry even when you’re asleep on your feet. I was really impressed.”

“Really?” replied Blair happily. “Thanks man. I love to cook, and I make good pastry too. One day I’ll treat you to my special quiche.”

“Quiche, Sandburg?” responded Jim with a mock scowl. “Do I LOOK like a Quiche man to you?”

Blair giggled endearingly. “But it is real special, Jim. Naomi taught me to make it...” He tailed off abruptly, and just like that, the enjoyment died out of his eyes and his expression became sad.

“Hey, kid,” murmured Jim worriedly, reaching over to lay a comforting hand on Blair’s knee. “What’s with the long face?”

“I’m sorry, Jim. It’s just that I suddenly realised that I haven’t seen or heard from Mom for over a year. The last time I spoke to her was before Thanksgiving last year, when she called to say she wouldn’t be coming to visit as she’d found another retreat in New Mexico. I don’t think she even knows about my being kidnapped. I mean, if she had, she’d have come, wouldn’t she?” he finished uncertainly

Squeezing the knee under his hand in compassion, Jim was at a loss for words. Sure, his own mother had walked out on him and his father and little brother, but he couldn’t understand how a woman who supposedly adored her brilliant son could stay out of touch for so long. It was almost as if the kid was some sort of temporary possession that she only thought of occasionally in passing, and picked up to play with when the mood struck.

He could feel the anger and resentment on behalf of his young Guide rising up like a black wave, and, knowing that Blair would pick up on it easily and become even more distressed, he fought to control both it and the growing urge to seek out the woman and give her a piece of his mind.

Sighing deeply, he sought to lighten the dismal mood by introducing a change of topic.

“You know, Chief, I’d almost forgotten that Thanksgiving is only a few days away. What do you want to do? Have a meal out somewhere to celebrate, or shall we have the real deal at home? I’ll bet we could do a mean turkey between us. What do you say?”

Knowing that Jim was trying to make him feel better, and loving him for the effort, Blair shook off his gloomy thoughts and replied with rising enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah, a turkey dinner at home!” he said. “That would be awesome! I’ve got this great idea for chestnut stuffing...” and he was off and running.

Jim smiled contentedly, glad that he’d staved off the kid’s unhappy mood, and let the soothing voice wash over him for the rest of the trip.

*

When they arrived at the bullpen, there was barely time to acknowledge their friends’ words of welcome before Simon’s normal bellowed demand rang out. “Ellison, Sandburg, my office!”

This time, Blair barely flinched, and a pleased Jim placed a hand on the small of his back and guided him towards the door.

When they stepped inside, they found Detective Brown already seated there. Standing, he held out his hand to each of them in welcome. “Hi guys, hope you don’t mind, but I’m looking to borrow you again if it’s OK with Captain Banks.”

“Hey, Daniel, how’s the case shaping then?” said Jim, shaking the proffered hand.

Shaking Blair’s hand next, Daniel replied, “It’s coming together well, thanks to the evidence you found for us. Although it’s not cut and dried by any means, what we have so far should be enough to justify at least questioning the ‘Sons of Satan’ bikers at their HQ at Grant and Jefferson like you suggested. The street kid came up with a few more ‘facts’ once we’d offered him enough monetary incentive, such as the tattoo on the perp’s upper arm, which matched the ‘devil’ one the gang members like to wear. Why the guy should have been so blatant about his visibility beats me, but then again, it wouldn’t be much of a warning if the target didn’t know who was doing the hit, I guess.

“Anyway, he also remembered a few more details about the ‘cool bike’, which is a Harley, like you said, Jim. The paint job is one of those customised ones which we think belongs to Rich Pearson, the ‘Son’s’ second-in-command. Added to that, the spent cases from the MAC 10 could be useful if we’re right, because I’ll bet that Pearson’s too arrogant to dispose of the weapon.

“What it boils down to is that Captain Sullivan wants to confront the gang at their place, but keeping the backup out of sight until they’re needed. He wants to keep it as low-key and unthreatening as possible in the first instance so’s not to stir up unnecessary trouble. I’m going to go in, and I’d be glad of your company if you’re OK with it, so you can tell me what’s going on inside the building. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me, Dan, but Blair stays in the truck. I don’t want him in the line of fire if we’re made, and everything goes pear-shaped.” Holding up a hand to forestall his Guide’s instant denial, he continued, “No, Chief. I won’t have you in danger. I’ll be OK, and won’t overstretch the senses without your backup. Also, I don’t want to be distracted by worrying if you’re safe, so no arguments, period!”

Subsiding unhappily into his seat, Blair knew better than to argue with his Sentinel, and could understand Jim’s reasoning even if he didn’t like it.

Simon spoke up then. “When is this going down, Detective Brown?”

“About mid-morning, sir,” Daniel replied. “We’re hoping that they’ll still be coming round from their normal late-night partying, so won’t be too alert. And Captain Sullivan has insisted on Kevlar,” he added quickly, forestalling Banks’s next demand.

“Well, if you’re OK with this, Jim, you and Sandburg can go along, but take care, the pair of you. I’ve got plenty of work in this department to keep you occupied without lending you out to all and sundry!”

So saying, he shooed them out of the office to get ready for the briefing, telling them to get it over with a.s.a.p. so they could get on with some ‘real work’.

The pair accompanied Daniel down to the briefing room in the Vice unit, where they were met with a welcome that was cool, but not as disapproving as Jim might have expected considering his and Blair’s recent history with the department.

Although Blair was noticeably nervous, and kept his gaze down at the floor, he was comforted not only by his Sentinel’s warm hand on his shoulder, but also by Daniel’s obvious acceptance and approval which seemed to have a positive effect on the other cops present.

Sullivan outlined the plan, which was a straight forward one consisting of an initial non-confrontational approach of the gang’s HQ by Daniel and Jim. However, at the least sign of hostility, the backup would move in from their hiding places in the vicinity, to surround the building and block the escape routes for any gang members who tried to run for it.

As the backup officers had already been advised of their positions, they left to get in place while Jim and Daniel went over a last few details with the captain, after which they made their way down to the parking garage.

Jim had insisted that he use his own truck, which had enough room for the three of them if Blair sat in the back, and Daniel was happy to oblige.

Turning round to address Blair, Daniel said, “You all right, son? Just to put your mind at ease, although I don’t claim to be a Guide, and wouldn’t dream of trying to interfere with a bonded pair, I do have low-level empathic ability, so I can help out in a crisis, if you get my meaning. If Jim here just wants a bit of grounding I can do that, but I don’t have the capability to get a sentinel out of a zone. Do I have permission from both of you to act if needed? I don’t want to cause any offence here,” he added quickly, as he could easily read the emotions flitting over Blair’s face and flowing through him.

Blair’s initial reaction had taken him completely by surprise, so quickly had he wanted to deny the request, and order the man to keep away from HIS Sentinel. He had never before had any person or object he had been allowed to consider as his personal property, so the instant possessiveness towards Jim startled him. However, almost immediately he could feel Jim’s touch in his mind, calming him and reaffirming his love, so he took a deep breath and willed himself to relax.

“I’m sorry, Detective Brown. I shouldn’t have doubted that you only want to help. It’s just that I’m so new to this, and I guess I haven’t gotten used to having a real partner,” he finished, shyly glancing at Jim.

“Hey, no problem, son,” replied Daniel soothingly. “Frankly I’d have been surprised if you hadn’t reacted, as I can see how strong your bond is. Just as long as you know I’m not here to muscle in on you. And you can call me Dan, you know. I’m not used to that formal ‘Detective’ shit.”

“OK, Dan,” Blair replied, relieved that he hadn’t caused offence to either Jim or the other man.

“But I still don’t see why I should wait in the truck. Can’t I--”

And that’s as far as he got before Jim nearly jumped down his throat.

“Not on your life, Chief! There is no way any civilian partner of mine is walking into potential danger unarmed and untrained. You’re not a cop, kid, and you could be a liability, so don’t even think about it!”

Jim knew he’d come over really strongly, and was sorry to feel his Guide’s immediate withdrawal as well as his hurt and embarrassment, but he’d deal with it later after the operation. What mattered now was that Blair should obey him and stay safe.

The rest of the trip was competed in silence as all three men were left to their own thoughts.

*

When Jim pulled up at the appointed spot, Sullivan was already there with two uniforms. Handing out three Kevlar vests, he asked if they were good to go. Receiving an affirmative, he looked at his watch and confirmed their time of arrival at the grungy ex warehouse that the Sons of Satan called their headquarters.

The building at the corner of Grant and Jefferson was in one of the most run-down areas of the city, bordering the red light district, so not far from the Blue Lagoon strip joint. It would be in easy reach of a bike-riding assassin, who, with a little creative back-tracking and zigzagging, could make his escape and be back in the warehouse with the other gang members and their hangers-on almost before the emergency teams had pulled up.

Less than ten minutes after leaving Sullivan, Jim stopped the truck just around the corner from the scruffy warehouse, and climbed out with Daniel. Both had their vests beneath their outer clothing, along with the usual wires for the benefit of their watching backup, and the damp Fall weather gave them a good excuse to be huddled in winter-weight jackets. Blair, on the other hand, wore his Kevlar vest on the outside because he wasn’t intended to be part of the operation, so it was for protection only in case of things going belly-up. He sat sulking in the cab, with a frown and pout that made him look like a little kid. Jim, who knew that he would be highly amused by the young man’s expression at any other time, couldn’t afford to be distracted now, so simply closed the door saying curtly, “Just make sure you keep your head down, Chief,” and then turned with Daniel to walk casually towards the front of the building.

Like Daniel, Jim had automatically taken note of available cover should their bluff be called, and saw that the most promising protection was that offered by the dumpsters lining the wall of the neighbouring building; the burnt-out shell of an old office block. They nodded to each other, wordlessly acknowledging their shared recognition of the fact, and continued on their way.

In the truck, Blair watched anxiously as his partner and Dan disappeared around the corner. Torn between obeying Jim’s orders and his instinctive need to be with his Sentinel, he worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he debated with himself. True, he’d had total and instant obedience beaten into him by Galbini, but the Guide in him needed to act. Making up his mind, he slipped out of the cab and quietly made his way to the corner of the street and peeked round so he could keep the other men in sight.

Meanwhile, Jim was keeping up a quiet running commentary as he and Dan neared the building, trying to appear non-threatening whilst keeping within range of the dumpsters should they need to dive for cover.

“I can hear eleven heartbeats inside, but at least three of them seem to be asleep. There’s an armed lookout in the top right-hand window. Now they’re arguing as to who’s going out to see what we’re up to. All awake now. Doesn’t sound very promising--”

Suddenly everything seemed to happen at once. As the armed lookout opened fire on the two cops, there was the deep-throated roar of a bike engine, as at least one of the gang members made his escape out of the back exit. At the same time, there was a piercing screech from some kind of alarm. As Jim had his hearing wide open, the noise ripped through him, and he fell to the ground clutching at his head in agony.

Dan, who had started running for shelter, turned back to help Jim, only to run into the hail of bullets coming from the building. He went down as one hit him in the chest, winding him despite the Kevlar, and another grazed his upper arm where there was no protection.

With a scream of horror, Blair sprinted towards his downed Sentinel, completely ignoring the gunfire, and threw himself across the prone body, urging Jim to listen to only his voice and dial down everything else. Dan, who had gotten his breath back, helped Blair drag Jim to his feet, and they staggered towards the dumpsters while the other backup units screamed to a halt surrounding the building and laid down covering fire.

In a matter of minutes, it was all over as the gang surrendered to the overwhelming odds, except for the one who had made good his escape on the bike, avoiding the hidden police cruisers by cutting through a series of narrow alleys. He wasn’t expected to get far, however, as his description was circulated rapidly to the rest of the force to arrest him on sight.

Behind the dumpster, Dan, clutching the graze on his arm, watched Blair talk his Sentinel down from the pain spike and back to normal. He smiled at the relief on the young man’s face as Jim shook his head to clear it then looked up at his Guide. However, instead of thanking him, he laid into Blair in fury, shocking both of them. Completely stricken, Blair listened in horror as Jim yelled at him for disobeying orders, and, grabbing his upper arms, shook him like a rag doll.

“That’s enough, Jim! Leave him be!” yelled Dan, springing to the Guide’s defence. Grasping Jim by the shoulder, he pulled the other man round to face him.

“Butt out, Brown,” snarled Jim threateningly. “This is between me and Sandburg!”

“No way, Ellison. Look at him! He just saved your life, goddam it!” Brown’s voice was harsh as he drove his point home, needing to get through to the furious Sentinel.

Jim whirled back to face the kid, and stopped short when he saw the tears streaming down the devastated face. He was immediately filled with remorse, yet the fear that had struck him to the heart on seeing his beloved Guide running heedlessly into danger wouldn’t allow him to forgive the kid yet, and his anger simmered barely contained just below the surface.

Turning his back on the other two, he stomped off towards the other units where Sullivan was waiting and watching the arrested gang members being cuffed and read their rights before being taken downtown for questioning.

Blair trailed dispiritedly behind him, only slightly comforted by Dan’s warm hand on his shoulder. He was convinced that it was all over, and that Jim would break up their partnership. He was filled with an unbearable sadness at the thought of being cast aside by the person he loved most in the world, coupled with terror at what sort of future a discarded Guide could look forward to, continuously medicated to control the emotional input with which a bonded empath without a Sentinel’s protection was constantly barraged. The distressing notion was strengthened all the more by the fact that Jim had cut off their mental link, and Blair was unable to feel anything from his Sentinel but the anger which seemed to roll off him in waves.

Unconcerned with disagreements between Sentinel and Guide, Captain Sullivan simply told Jim to return to the PD to help with the questioning, and ordered Dan to get his arm checked out at the ER.

Nodding in reluctant acquiescence, Dan gave Blair’s shoulder a final squeeze, and hitched a lift with one of the cruisers to Cascade General.

Still not looking at Blair, Jim stalked back to the truck and climbed in. When the passenger door remained closed, he finally looked up, and saw the young Guide gazing in at him, but making no move to enter. He was mortified to see the total devastation on the beloved face. Blair’s eyes streamed with silent tears, and were filled with a depth of despair Jim had never seen before, even when Blair was still at Galbini’s place.

Jumping back out of the truck he moved swiftly round to the other side, to see his Guide flinch and tense up, clearly expecting a blow.

“Oh, Chief, I’m not going to hit you, baby. I’ll never hit you, however mad you make me. Come here,” he murmured and held out his arms, reopening their mental link.

Blair didn’t hesitate, but threw himself into the hug, crying harder and sobbing, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again into Jim’s chest. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll do better, I promise. I just wanted to help. Please don’t break us up. I’m so sorry.”

“Hush now, Chief, it’s OK, I’m not kicking you out. Come on now, let’s take this inside, huh?” and Jim gently pushed Blair away so he could open the passenger door and lift the still trembling figure into the truck.

As soon as he had climbed in himself, he tugged the young man over to him, and held him close while he attempted to explain his reactions.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry to have upset you so much, but you scared the life out of me when I realised you hadn’t stayed in the truck. You took absolutely no notice of the fire fight. You could have been killed! I do appreciate that you did it for me, and yes, you did help me, but if it had been at the expense of your life, I’d never forgive myself. Hell, I wouldn’t live without you, kiddo. You’re everything to me!”

Blair could tell through their link that his Sentinel was completely sincere, and he was filled with remorse that he had caused Jim so much pain. However, he still couldn’t believe that he’d been wrong to come to his Sentinel’s aid. It was part of what made a Guide a Guide.

Haltingly, he tried to explain how he felt, trying to convince Jim of his deep-rooted need to protect as he was protected. He was truly sorry for disobeying Jim’s orders, but he admitted that he couldn’t in all honesty do anything else when he saw Jim go down.

Jim could feel Blair’s inner turmoil, and found he couldn’t maintain his irritation with the other’s obstinacy. It was, after all, why he was such a strong Guide. It was no comfort however, in the face of the possibility of losing said Guide in the dangerous situations that Jim was always likely to find himself in while working in the field.

“OK, Chief, we’ll leave it for now, but we have to discuss this more fully later. I do understand, but I can’t lose you, baby, so we’re going to have to come up with some sort of compromise, except for the life of me I can’t see how yet!”

And with that, he gently pushed Blair away so he could buckle up and set off back to the PD.

*

They completed the trip back to the PD in silence, both wrapped in deep thought, but with the mutual comfort offered by their link re-established.

They went to Major Crimes first, as Jim wanted to get Blair settled at his desk in the bullpen rather than drag him unnecessarily down to Vice for the debriefing and follow-up questioning. Although somewhat calmer now, Blair was still visibly upset and teary-eyed, and there was more than one speculative glance cast in their direction when they entered, despite the fact that Jim still held the smaller figure close to his side as usual. Joel and Megan, who were looking over a file together at Megan’s desk, had no qualms about coming over immediately to find out what the trouble was.

“Bloody hell, Sandy, what’s he been doing to you?” asked Megan worriedly, completely disregarding Jim’s frown of annoyance at her approach.

“Are you OK, kid?” this from Joel, who was close behind.

Blair smiled a little tremulously at them, grateful for their concern, but rather embarrassed by the attention. “I’m fine, really,” he whispered, aware of Jim’s rising irritation.

“Look, just leave it, OK? He’s just had a bit of a scare, but he’ll be all right in a bit, won’t you Chief?” Jim added pointedly, steering his Guide around the other two to seat him at his desk.

Crouching down to look into the worried blue eyes, he continued more quietly for Blair’s ears only. “I’ll be as quick as I can, baby, then we’ll go and get a bite to eat. I expect I’ll have to go back down to Vice again this afternoon to continue with the wrap-up, but there’s a fair bit of paperwork here to keep you busy if you feel up to it.”

Patting Blair’s cheek gently, he stood up and made for the door, stopping briefly on the way to reassure Joel and Megan that things really were OK between them, but that a little TLC for his Guide wouldn’t go amiss. The Aussie Inspector was quick to put his mind at ease.

“No worries, Jimbo, I’m on it!” she said briskly, giving him a quick grin. Joel simply smiled gently at him and nodded, squeezing Jim’s shoulder in passing as he turned to follow Megan.

Blair, meanwhile, quickly swiped at his face with his sleeve, surreptitiously trying to wipe away the tear tracks he was sure were still visible to all and sundry. Fervently wishing the ground could open up and swallow him, he was convinced that everyone present must consider him a real wimp, and ducked his head in shame when he saw Megan and Joel approaching. He was somewhat surprised when she simply ruffled his hair affectionately in passing, and returned to her desk, only to open the top drawer and pull out a magazine.

“There you go, Sandy,” she said brightly, plopping the latest National Geographic down in front of him. “I hope you haven’t read that one yet!” she added.

Stammering his thanks, Blair blushed and smiled up at her, to receive a pat on the cheek this time.

“I don’t think Jimbo will mind if you have a read of that before tackling his paperwork, love,” she said with a wink, and returned to her desk where she and Joel calmly carried on where they’d left off with studying the file.

Bemused but very touched by the kind gesture, Blair settled down to read, smiling happily to himself and not noticing the conspiratorial grin exchanged between Joel and Megan.

*

As Simon was out of the office attending a funding meeting with the Commissioner, the Mayor, and the Chief of Police, Rhonda popped her head out of her office, and seeing Blair, put on her personal kettle to make him a drink of hot chocolate.

When it was done, she walked over to the young man, who was engrossed in his magazine, and put it down in front of him, along with two chocolate chip cookies.

“There you go, Blair,” she said with a kind smile. “You look like you’re ready for a hot drink.”

Quickly closing his mouth, which had fallen open in surprise, Blair beamed at her.

“Thanks so much!” he said, quietly but sincerely. “That’s so kind of you....”

“No trouble, dear. Enjoy,” she responded with another smile, and returned to her office, quietly pleased that she’d brought a little happiness to the boy’s face.

‘I wonder if he has any idea how beautiful he is, especially when his face lights up like that?’ she mused, before turning her attention back to the pile of forms and memos in her in tray.

*

Several hours later, Blair had finished the magazine and was making serious inroads into Jim’s paperwork when the man in question returned to the bullpen. Although he looked a bit tired, and had been away far longer than he had intended, he was cheerful enough, and he gathered his Guide up into a quick hug.

“Come on, kid, it’s time you had something to eat – besides cookies, that is!” he added, having scented them on the young man’s breath, and noticing the few crumbs dotting the front of his shirt.

Blair blushed and ducked his head, but smiled happily when he realised that Jim wasn’t cross with him, just joking.

“Rhonda was so kind,” he said shyly. “She made me some hot chocolate too. And Megan gave me a magazine...that’s OK isn’t it?” he finished, suddenly unsure if he should have accepted it.

“Of course it is, Chief. I’m glad you had something nicer to occupy yourself with other than my paperwork – as long as it gets done later!” he added with a mock growl. “Let’s go to the break room and see what we can get from the vending machines. I know it’s not very appetising – not even sure if some of it qualifies as food – but it’ll save time, and the quicker I can finish with the case, the quicker we can get home. Don’t forget we’re supposed to be seeing Eli this evening.”

“OK Jim. That’d be good,” replied Blair, lighting up with enthusiasm at the thought of going to Rainier. He had thought for a while that perhaps, even if he wasn’t going to be dumped as a Guide, Jim might be too angry with his disobedience to let him go back to the U.

Pulling him close, Jim ushered him out of the bullpen to the break room. Seeing that the room was empty, he took the opportunity to give Blair a reassuring hug and kiss before eyeing up the contents of the vending machines. “What do you fancy, Chief?” he asked, looking askance at what was on offer.

“I can get them, Jim,” replied Blair, happy that he now had a small allowance from the Sentinel / Guide Dept as an official bonded Guide, and he’d already received his first weeks’ pay. Jim was hopeful that eventually he’d get a bit more from the PD as Jim’s partner, but that hadn’t happened yet.

Knowing how much it meant to Blair to be able to contribute a little to their partnership, Jim smiled at him and picked a half-decent looking beef sandwich. Choosing a tuna one for himself, Blair fed the machine with coins while Jim poured them both a cup of coffee, after first checking that the pot hadn’t been stewing away for hours.

Settling down with the snacks, Jim explained what had happened so far with the case between mouthfuls of slightly rubbery beef.

Firstly he assured Blair that Dan Brown was fine and already back at the PD. The bullet that clipped his upper arm had only left a deep gouge that needed a couple of stitches. Blair was relieved, because he really liked the genial giant, and was glad that the wound wasn’t bad enough to keep him off work.

Next he went on to explain that, although the rest of the gang hadn’t admitted to anything other than opening fire at what they believed to be an attack by a rival gang, Rich Pearson, the biker who had made his escape, had been stopped by traffic cops just a couple of hours later trying to get out of Cascade. Not only that, but he was found to still be carrying the MAC 10 machine pistol he’d used for the drive-by. “No accounting for arrogance and stupidity, thank the gods,” was Jim’s sardonic comment, which conjured an answering grin from Blair.

Charged with the shooting, and knowing he was going down for four counts of murder since Carl Schiffer had since died in hospital without regaining consciousness, Pearson knew he was facing the death penalty. Not willing to take the rap alone, and hoping to make a deal, Pearson rolled over on the rest of the ‘Sons’.

He asserted that he had been ordered to do the drive-by to warn off Schiffer from muscling in on their turf by getting involved in drug dealing. The leader of the ‘Sons’ hadn’t cared if there were any casualties as long as their potential rival got the message, and stuck to pimping and running the strip joint. With the confession typed up and signed, there was nothing left for Jim to do but to write up his own report and head on out

A couple of hours later, having finished typing up his report and updating Simon, recently returned from his successful, if protracted, meeting, the pair left for home with the captain’s blessing.

*

Back at the loft, Jim and Blair grabbed a quick shared shower, although Blair made time to give his Sentinel a much appreciated blow job. He was so grateful that the man he adored wasn’t mad with him anymore, and he desperately needed to show Jim how much he was loved.

In return, Jim had gently washed the smaller man, touching and caressing the slender body until Blair had come with a deep sigh of pleasure.

Drying off and changing into fresh clothes, Jim ordered a pizza as they were both too tired to bother with cooking, and they needed to hurry anyway if they were to make their evening appointment with Eli Stoddard.

Pizza finished up and clean up done, they headed out to Rainier and, entering Hargrove Hall, made their way to Dr Stoddard’s office. Answering Jim’s knock with a jovial “Come in!” Eli stood up from his desk, and came round to give Blair a friendly hug and to shake Jim’s hand vigorously.

“So glad you could make it Detective Ellison, Blair, my boy. I hope you haven’t reconsidered your decision to return, because I’ve rather taken it upon myself to arrange for your appointment as my part-time Research Assistant. I was thinking maybe two mornings a week as a start, with a few more hours when things are really busy?” Pausing for breath, he beamed at them, then continued hopefully, “Well, what do you say, dear boy? Is that what you had in mind? Of course I expect you’ll need to be flexible because of your work with Detective Ellison, but perhaps you could come in tomorrow morning to see how things go?”

Cocking his head to one side, Eli gazed expectantly at the pair, and was somewhat amused to see the effect of his words on them.

Jim was staring at him blankly, looking as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and Blair simply stood opening and closing his mouth in wordless astonishment, before managing to gasp out, “Oh Eli, that’s so great! I can’t believe you could do that for me. I’m so grateful, I can’t begin to thank you...”and he tailed off, looking hopefully at Jim for his approval.

Shaking himself, Jim patted Blair’s shoulder comfortingly and spoke up. “That’s really good of you, Professor. I can’t see any problem with a couple of mornings, especially as you’re allowing Blair flexibility in his hours. Only one thing,” he added with a smile. “I thought we’d agreed that you call me Jim? Detective is too formal, and Mr Ellison is my father!”

“Of course, Jim, and you’ll call me Eli, won’t you?” came the cheerful rejoinder. Smiling beneficently he continued, “I’ve no doubt you’ll have plenty to discuss between yourselves, so I won’t keep you any longer, but I’ll look forward to you coming in tomorrow morning, all right, dear boy?” And without further ado, he ushered them out of the office again.

When the door closed behind the still stunned pair, Eli chuckled to himself, rubbing his hands together in glee since not only had he managed to entice his favourite student back to Rainier, but he’d managed to render him speechless while doing it. Yes, it was going to be so good to have Blair back working and studying with him again.

As they left the building, Blair still wore a flabbergasted expression, and kept glancing at Jim to make sure he really was OK with Eli’s somewhat overwhelming approach to recruiting. He was vastly relieved when Jim smiled down at the young man tucked under his arm, chuckling wryly as he commented, “Do you know, Chief, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a quick job interview. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck!

“I’m really pleased for you, though, baby,” he continued sincerely. “It’s no more than you deserve, and perhaps one day you’ll even be able to get back into the doctoral programme. After all, you’re still only twenty one, and you’ve got that Master’s under your belt already.”

Giving Blair’s shoulder another squeeze, he steered them back to the truck and they drove home in companionable silence, both contemplating the new element in their lives together.

*

The following morning, Blair was nearly vibrating with a combination of nerves and happy anticipation. The thought of a few hours at the U poring contentedly through the contents of the library stacks was taking on the role of a dream come true in his imagination, whilst he had remembered, with some trepidation, that it was Friday, and that tonight he and Jim were expected at Simon’s house for the regular poker night.

Jim smiled at him with gentle amusement as he sought to get as much breakfast into his excited Guide as possible, knowing that Blair wouldn’t think to feed himself with so much racing around in his hyper-active brain.

Finally they were ready to head for Rainier so that Jim could drop Blair off before going on to the PD, but only after reassuring Blair yet again that he would be on desk duty during his Guide’s absence. Holding his battered backpack to him like a security blanket, Blair nearly bounced in his seat, only quieting when they were approaching Hargrove Hall.

“Are you really sure I can do this, Jim? I mean, I so want to do some work with Eli, but you’re more important to me. Are you really OK with working at the PD without me?”

“Sheesh, kid,” an exasperated Jim replied. “For the last time, yes, I DO want you to have some time here, and yes, I’ll be quite all right on my own in the office. I’m not going anywhere unguided without you, baby, so just jump on out and go, enjoy!” He finished his speech by leaning over to give his Guide a deep kiss, and smiled fondly as the excited young man bounced out of the truck, and, with a cheery wave, ran up the steps of the hall just like a happy school kid.

It wasn’t until he was half way to the PD that Jim really realised that this was the first time he and Blair had been apart since their bonding less than a month ago, and the reality hit him hard. As he drove, he pondered on how his life had changed so dramatically, but in the best possible way.

Sure, he’d landed himself with a damaged and somewhat fragile Guide, but in other respects the young man was everything he could have dreamed of; beautiful, smart and totally devoted to him. No longer alone either at home or at work, he knew that he was one lucky Sentinel.

On the other hand, he was under no illusions about his own effect on Blair. Without the bonding, the young man would have likely faded slowly, even away from Galbini’s clutches, as his latent talent was probably too strong for anyone but an alpha sentinel to cope with and he knew for a fact that alphas were pretty thin on the ground. Not only that, as they tended to come online at an early age, they were usually paired to strong guides very quickly through the Sentinel / Guide Department. It was either through pure luck or perhaps karma that Jim had managed to repress his senses as a child, and only came back online in time to meet up with his true Guide.

Arriving at the PD, he made his way up to the MCU, fielding cheerful greetings and more than one query as to the whereabouts of his shadow. Gratified to find that Blair already seemed to have been accepted as a proper partner for him in his work at the PD, he was smiling by the time he reached the bullpen. After letting Simon know of his arrival, he passed a few minutes exchanging pleasantries and few ribald jokes with the other detectives present, then settled down to an unexciting morning of paperwork.

*

Meanwhile, over at Rainier, Blair was happily filling Eli in with some of the nicer changes in his life, and, receiving a list of references and papers that needed looking up and noting, he bounced his way over to the library to lose himself in the book stacks as if he had never been away.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed and lunchtime was nearing that he began to feel a little strange. Unable to pin it down at first, the feeling grew until it culminated in a profound sense of loneliness, as if he was totally cut off from the rest of the world. Worried and upset, he started to gather up his books to return them to the library shelves, then, stacking up Eli’s notes and papers, he almost ran out of the building back to the professor’s office.

He had almost reached the steps to Hargrove Hall, when a familiar truck pulled up alongside him, and Jim’s beloved voice called out to him. Without pause, he ran back to the truck, and threw himself into Jim’s waiting arms as soon as the Sentinel emerged from the cab. Within moments, the feeling of loneliness and terror had subsided as they comforted each other through their link, and Blair’s trembling had virtually stopped.

Pulling back, he gazed hungrily at his Sentinel for a long moment, then said plaintively, “Gods, Jim, I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry for jumping on you like that, but I felt so afraid, so alone. It started growing in me about an hour ago, and I just couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“Same here, Chief,” replied Jim ruefully. “There I was slaving away at my pile of paperwork, when I realised I couldn’t reach out to you anymore, and I just had to get here and make sure you were OK. I’ve got a feeling that it’s some form of separation anxiety, and it may be that you’ll have to have slightly shorter hours here until we get more used to being apart.”

“I think you’re right, Jim. I’d better tell Eli. I hope he won’t be mad at me,” Blair added, chewing his bottom lip in consternation.

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine, baby,” Jim reassured him. “If anyone knows about Sentinel / Guide dynamics, it’s your professor.” And with that, he tucked Blair under his arm and the pair of entered the hall, completely oblivious to the amused and questioning stares of the passing students.

Sure enough, Eli, far from being mad at Blair, apologised profusely at not considering the newness of the bond, and was perfectly amenable to shortening Blair’s morning hours for the time being until both Jim and Blair grew more accustomed to being apart. He suggested that, in the meantime, perhaps Blair could do some of the work from home so that they didn’t get too behind, and Jim was more than happy to give his approval.

Relieved and much more relaxed, they returned to the PD after Blair had stuffed his backpack full of papers for studying and note-taking at home, stopping briefly at a decent deli to pick up sandwiches and chips for a snack lunch.

The afternoon turned out to be quiet by Cascade standards, with no murder and mayhem landing in their laps, so the partners were able to leave the office at a reasonable hour, with Simon’s reminder about the poker night ringing in their ears.

*

Later that evening, having showered and changed, Blair prepared a light meal of pasta before they left for the poker game, insisting that his Sentinel had to have something healthier than the beer, chips and dips that would be available at Simon’s house.

Smiling contentedly as he watched Blair putter around in the kitchen, Jim realised with a pang that he’d never really known this sort of domestic comfort, even as a child. At least, not after his mother had walked out. Although Sally, his father’s housekeeper, had done her best to love and care for two small boys, the strictness of his father had overshadowed her efforts. Even during his short marriage to Carolyn there was no sense of domestic harmony, since Caro hated cooking, and was more concerned with pursuing her career than playing house with Jim.

Watching his Guide putting the final touches to the pasta sauce, Jim speculated on what sort of early life Blair had really had. During bonding, he had explored of many of the kid’s early memories, and had probably looked deeper than perhaps he should have, particularly as he was aware that Blair was still too unsure of his situation even now to do more than take a superficial mental ‘visit’ to his Sentinel’s mind.

The memories Jim had allowed himself to view seemed to consist of rapidly changing countries and stopping places, none of which appeared to qualify as ‘home’. Brief flashes of an inquisitive child, trying to learn as much as possible, and gleefully absorbing different sights and sounds, were interspersed with less happy glimpses of the same child dragged unwillingly from newly-made friends as his mother took off for yet another fresh pasture. There were also a few darker images that Jim had tried to ignore as too intimate for his Guide to share willingly. Jim pondered for a moment, thinking that perhaps he should look deeper, even though it was something of an invasion of privacy, overriding the young man’s diffidence in order to offer comfort and support.

Shaking his head, he terminated that line of thought for the time being, and moved to the table where Blair had placed two plates full of delicious-smelling pasta.

*

An hour or so later they were in the truck heading for Simon’s place in a pleasant, tree-lined suburban street, with Blair clutching a six-pack on his knees. He had grown noticeably quieter as the journey progressed, and Jim was uncomfortably aware that he was picking up the scent of mounting anxiety from his Guide.

“Hey Chief, you OK there?” he asked. “Look, if you really don’t want to go, we’ll turn back and I’ll make our excuses to Simon. I don’t want you having a panic attack as soon as we get through the door,” he continued, only half jokingly.

Blair seemed to jump, thoughts returning rapidly from wherever they had been taking him.

“No, no, I’m all right, man. Really. I’ll be OK. I don’t want to spoil your evening, Jim. I’ll be fine, honest!” He knew he was babbling, but couldn’t seem to stop himself. Yes, he was nervous, but the last thing he wanted to do was to get between his Sentinel and his friends.

“OK, if you’re sure,” replied Jim, relieved but not entirely convinced of the truth of his Guide’s assertion.

A few minutes later they pulled up in the street outside Simon’s house, and Jim noted from the other cars already parked up that they were probably the last to arrive. Climbing down from the truck, he walked round to the passenger side and relieved Blair of the six-pack so he could jump down to the sidewalk.

“You good to go, then?” he said handing back the beer as Blair seemed to want something to distract him a little.

“Yes, Jim, I’m good,” came the not-quite-convincing reply, then Blair took a deep breath and set off up the path, Jim’s arm around his shoulders.

When they reached the front door, it was answered almost immediately by Simon, who was headed to the kitchen for the chips and snacks.

“Aha! Donations always welcome, heh!” he rumbled, relieving Blair of the six-pack. “Come on in. The others are already in the den – you know where that is, don’t you, Jim?”

“Sure, Simon,” he replied cheerfully, moving to steer Blair down the hall, only to pause when Blair spoke shyly to Simon, offering to help with getting drinks and snacks from the kitchen.

Raising an eyebrow, Simon clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure, kid! Make yourself useful. I sure don’t get offers of help from this bunch, so I’ll take any that’s going.” Casting a grin over the young man’s head at Jim, he winked and led Blair into the kitchen, where he quickly loaded his willing volunteer’s arms with a tray full of bowls of chips and a variety of dips and nuts.

“Well, far be it for me to avoid my share,” laughed Jim, and took up his own armload of beer to accompany the food.

“I could get used to this,” chuckled Simon, and, empty handed himself, led the way down the hall to a large but cosy den, where Joel, Megan, Rafe and H were engaged in light-hearted comparisons between the Jags and various opposing teams.

As soon as they spotted the newcomers, the others offered smiling greetings, and a few snarky comments about ass-kissing and ‘slave labour’, but no one except Jim noted Blair’s slight flinch at the latter.

Deciding to let it go, rather than risk embarrassing his Guide by drawing attention to the innocently made comment, Jim put down his armful of drinks and started to pass them around.

“Just helping out the elderly...” he smirked, and had to duck to avoid a pillow thrown at his head by Simon.

With Jim successfully defusing the situation, and knowing that everyone present was genuinely pleased to see him (having quickly ‘read’ them for any potential antipathy towards him), Blair smiled with his customary shyness and quietly put the tray he was holding down on the side table indicated by Simon.

“OK then, gents – and lady (heh, heh!) are you all ready to get your clocks cleaned? I’m feeling lucky tonight!” said Simon, rubbing his hands together gleefully. “You’ll be playing too, won’t you, kid? I mean, I assume you can play poker?” he added, directing his attention to Blair.

Blair was taken by surprise, as he had honestly not expected to be asked to join in. He was grateful enough to have been invited along for the evening.

“Um...yes sir. I’ve played before, if you’re sure...?”

“Wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t mean it, kid,” came the reply. “And less of the ‘Sir’ when we’re off duty, all right? But call me anything but my given name, and I won’t be a happy camper,” he added with a mock scowl.

Blair smiled at him and said, “Yes, sir – um, Simon,” and ducked his head, blushing right up to his hairline.

With that, they settled down to play, breaking off occasionally for drinks and snacks while the banter continued unabated.

A couple of hours later though, Simon was already regretting the magnanimity of his offer to let his newest recruit join in, since the majority of the winnings were piled up in front Blair. Not only could Sandburg play, but he was damned good at it too, so Simon sat back and glared across the table.

“Well, that’s me out. And there was me thinking you’d be easy pickings, kid!”

Horrified that he’d upset the Captain, and everyone else for that matter, Blair stammered an apology and tried to push the pile of cash away from him. He truly hadn’t meant to offend anyone, but had merely lost himself for an hour or two in a friendly game.

“God, kid, it’s OK!” said Simon before Jim could speak up in defence of his Guide. “That was a joke, Blair. Just don’t make a habit of cleaning me out every time, huh? It makes me feel humble, and I don’t do humble!” he added with a wolfish grin.

Relaxing when the other detectives added their own friendly agreement, Blair lit up with his first real megawatt smile of the evening, and the effect was stunning. Jim smirked smugly, H and Rafe couldn’t help but smile indulgently in response and Megan and Joel’s wide grins did their best to compete with the happiness that almost oozed out of the young Guide’s pores. Simon simply offered another knowing grin, and stood to usher his guests out.

“Enough already,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m off to bed to lick my wounds, so get out you lot, and get to your own beds.” And with that, he shooed them out of the front door, and waved them off with his smile still in place.

The group milled around for a few moments saying their goodbyes before dispersing to their cars. Rafe and H, who had driven over together, slapped Blair and Jim on the back with a friendly, “See you two Monday,” from Rafe and a good-natured, “Great playing, Kid – don’t spend it all at once!” from H.

Megan gave Blair her customary enthusiastic hug. “Sleep well, Sandy! And you too, Jimbo! Have a good one!” and waving jauntily, she climbed into her car and drove away.

Last to go was Joel, who smiled at them and asked what they’d be doing at the weekend, seeing as they’d managed to get until Monday off, and Thursday was actual Thanksgiving. Jim smiled at the older man, and slinging an arm around Blair’s shoulders, he hugged him as he replied, “We’re spending some time chilling out at the loft, Joel. And come Thursday, Blair here’s a great cook, so we’re going to have the whole turkey deal, and kick back for a while, aren’t we, baby?” Blair blushed at the compliment but nodded happily.

“That’s good, Jim. I’m glad you’ll be having the chance to celebrate at home. I was going to invite you round to our place, but it sounds like you two have got things sorted. If you change your minds, though, you’re welcome anyway. You know how much Ellen likes to cook,” he added, smiling fondly at the thought of his wife of nearly thirty years bustling round the Taggert’s homely kitchen.

“That’s very kind of you, Joel, and we really appreciate it, but I think we’re good to go. I have to admit I’m looking forward to watching Blair here stuffing the turkey!” Jim joked, steering his Guide towards the truck.

“Night, Joel,” said Blair with a small smile, and with a final wave they parted company.

On the way back to the loft, Jim squeezed Blair’s knee, snickering, “Well, you sure took them by surprise, baby! I’d never have guessed you were such an ace card player. After all, you’ve probably got the most expressive face I’ve ever seen. Even without the benefit of a poker face I’m guessing you’ve probably doubled your earnings for this week, huh?” and he smiled affectionately at his Guide when Blair blushed with pleasure at Jim’s words of approval and admiration.

“Thanks, Jim,” Blair replied. “I was taught to play by one of Naomi’s boyfriends one summer, when he couldn’t think of what else to do with me. I think it was mainly intended to shut me up from continuously asking questions. I guess I wasn’t the easiest kid to look after,” he added, a little sadly.

“Now there you’d be wrong,” said Jim with conviction. “I’m thinking that they should have been delighted to have such a smart and inquisitive kid around. I know I wouldn’t have minded having a kid like that,” he added honestly.

“That’s good of you to say, Jim, but do you still want children?” asked Blair, somewhat afraid that the answer might be positive, which would leave him just where?

“No, Chief, not now,” replied Jim, correctly interpreting the anxiety lurking behind the question. “Maybe once, when I was married, but it didn’t last long enough, and Caro wasn’t prepared to give up her career for motherhood, believe me! And before you ask, I’ve never considered it with any other woman I’ve been with since, and I certainly don’t want to consider it now, babe, because there’s no way I’d ever make you move over to make room for a new wife.”

Easily discerning the truth behind Jim’s fervent declaration, Blair relaxed and smiled happily at his sentinel lover. “Thank you for telling me, Jim. I truly wouldn’t have wanted to stand in your way if you did ever want to marry again, but I’m so happy that you want me with you. I want to stay forever!” he added, somewhat daringly, and was hugely grateful when Jim simply responded with a satisfied smile, and another squeeze of his knee.

*

Saturday morning turned out to be a relaxing time for both men, as they took the opportunity of having a lie in for some gentle loving and serious cuddling, only getting up when the bathroom called too urgently. Even then, they lounged around in their robes over a leisurely breakfast while making plans for the rest of the day, which would include shopping for as many of the fixings for their planned Thanksgiving dinner as they could get in advance, and getting some more shelves for the office now Blair was going to be doing more of Eli’s work at home.

Blair was just getting up to refill their coffee mugs when Jim looked up with his head slightly cocked, and Blair knew he was listening to something unexpected. When Jim also sniffed lightly, Blair rested his hand automatically on Jim’s arm to ground him.

“There’s someone entering the building, Chief,” muttered Jim, a frown of concentration creasing his brow. “A woman, and she sounds as if she’s in a hurry. She also smells a bit like you, kiddo....” and then he looked intently at his Guide’s paling face.

“Do you think it could be Mom?” Blair whispered, almost afraid of the answer. “It’s been so long – how would she know where I am?” and he began to chew his bottom lip in worry, torn between a longing to see his long-absent parent, and wondering what her reaction was going to be to find him here.

He didn’t have long to wait before there was an impatient knock on the door, which Jim opened a fraction later, not wanting to disconcert their visitor by opening the door in advance.

He stood back in amazement as a tall, slender, red-headed whirlwind flew past him into the loft to grasp Blair by the upper arms and peer into his face.

“Oh sweetie, there you are! I called your digs and they said you’d gone, and they couldn’t tell me where. I had to go to the university and that old professor you used to like told me your new address. Why didn’t you let me know? Where have you been? What are you doing with those horrid tattoos? And who is this person?” she waved backwards at Jim. “Tell me everything, sweetie, then you can get packed and come with me. We’ll go back to Taos. You look like you need to process...”

Finally able to get a word in edgeways, Blair responded, “Please, Mom, if you’ll just give me a chance I’ll explain, but can we at least sit down first? I think there are some things that will be hard for you to hear,” and he urged her over to the love seat and knelt opposite her, keeping hold of her hands.

“This is going to be hard for me to tell, and probably harder for you to hear,” he reiterated, “but please at least give me a chance and don’t get mad,” he pleaded.

When Naomi nodded, a tiny frown appearing between her brows, Jim moved quietly over to the kitchen area where he could monitor the conversation without appearing to intrude.

Taking a steadying breath, Blair began. “First, Mom, you should know that I’m not really at the U anymore. You see, just after I submitted my Master’s thesis, I was kidnapped off the campus.” At Naomi’s shocked gasp, he said, “I did try to contact you before it happened, Mom, because I wanted to tell you about finishing my paper, but you’d gone to Tibet and I couldn’t find a contact number.”

“Well, the retreat didn’t allow for outside contact, sweetie, you should know that. After all, you’ve been to several similar ones with me...” Naomi replied distractedly. Suddenly she seemed to actually register what her son had said. “What do you mean, kidnapped? Was it him?” She glared in Jim’s direction, ready to do battle.

“No, no Naomi, not Jim! Jim rescued me, took me in. But I was with a gangster named Galbini for nearly six months. He did some awful things to me, Mom. He...he...he r raped m m m me. Over and over....” He tailed off into humiliated silence, and hung his head, unable to meet his mother’s shocked eyes.

“Oh goddess!” breathed Naomi, lifting a hand to her face in horror. “Is that where the tattoos come from, then?” she demanded, and received a nod of confirmation from her son’s bowed head.

“Tell me you fought them hard, sweetie. That you defied them,” she implored, slipping her fingers beneath Blair’s chin to tilt his face up to meet her burning gaze.

“I tried, Naomi, truly I did,” whispered Blair, voice filled with shame and self-loathing, “but they drugged me and beat me, and I couldn’t fight them anymore and...please don’t be mad at me, Mom.”

When there was no immediate response, he struggled on, knowing that he must tell her everything at once, because he knew he’d never be able to go through this again.

Looking up to see Jim gazing at him, nothing but love and support filling his crystal blue eyes, Blair gathered his courage around him and said, “It was when Jim rescued me that I found I really was a Guide, Mom. Jim’s a Sentinel Detective with Cascade Major Crimes Unit, and we bonded. I’m so grateful that he wanted me. He’s given me a home, and even lets me do some work at the U--”

He got no further, as Naomi shrieked in horror, and leapt up from her seat.

“Blair, how could you? How could you tie yourself to a sentinel, and a jack-booted thug of a pig at that! Why didn’t you fight it, run away? You still can! Yes, come with me now and we’ll get you help to break this bond. I have to get you away from here! Go and pack right now!”

“That’s enough!” roared Jim, quickly moving forward to take the trembling body of his distraught Guide into his arms. “Lady, I don’t want to hurt you, because you are Blair’s mother after all, but you don’t get to blame him for things he had no control over, and you don’t get to insult me in my own place. You don’t get to muscle in here dictating to a son you haven’t even tried to contact for over a year. I suggest you get out now, and if Blair wants to see you again, we’ll be in touch.” And he glared at her, while tucking Blair’s face into his neck, and stroking his Guide’s shaking back with a soothing hand.

Struck momentarily speechless, Naomi glared back at him for a long moment, then spun towards the door, saying over her shoulder, “You haven’t heard the last of this, pig! I know what’s best for my son, and it certainly isn’t you!” And with that she slammed the door behind her, Jim following her retreating footsteps down the stairs and out of the building.

“Oh god, oh god, I’m so sorry, Jim. I’m so sorry she took it so badly. I hoped that at least she wouldn’t have a go at you, man. I’m sorry”. And the tears came then as he clung to his Sentinel with all his strength.

“Don’t worry about me, babe,” murmured Jim softly, rocking slightly as he cuddled the smaller figure close. “I’m just sorry that she upset you so much. I’d have expected more sympathy at least....”

“No, man, not really,” came the snuffly reply. “I should have guessed that she would be more upset about me being bonded to a ‘pig’ than about me getting myself grabbed. See, she’s a real hippy, into protests and all. I think the sort of experiences she’s had with pi…policemen have all been bad ones. I just wish she hadn’t taken it out on you....”

Moving them both over to the couch, Jim settled Blair in his lap, knowing that his Guide needed consoling far more than being worried about looking like a little kid.

As for Blair, he simply tucked his face back into Jim’s neck, and accepted the comfort with gratitude. How he was going to process the disastrous meeting with his flighty parent, he didn’t yet know, but at least he had the strength and constancy of Jim’s love to fall back on, and for that he thanked the goddess.

Some while later, when Blair had found some measure of equilibrium, he sat up in Jim’s lap and looked into his Sentinel’s eyes, finding them to be full of kindness and understanding, rather than the disgust and disapproval he thought that he deserved.

“I’m sorry I fell apart again, man. You must be sick of having a Guide who bursts into tears every five minutes,” he whispered, hoping against hope that it wasn’t true.

“Link with me, Chief,” came the gentle response, “and you’ll see that I’m not mad at you at all. You’ve had a real shit-load of angst dumped on you this morning, which you certainly didn’t deserve. I know she’s your biological parent, Chief, but she’s well short on maternal instinct, babe. I should know,” he added quietly. “If it hadn’t been for Sally’s love and care for me and my brother after my mother walked out, I’d be a whole lot meaner than I am now, and that’s saying something.”

Allowing Jim to slide into his mind, as he slid into Jim’s, Blair was comforted by the love he felt there, but also noted sadness, which had its roots in Jim’s motherless childhood. Since he had previously bypassed Jim’s deeper personal memories, sure that he wouldn’t be allowed access, Blair had to wonder if those pathways were now open to him. He felt the affirmation from his Sentinel in his mind, so he tentatively peeked in to be confronted by the harsh scenes his lover had had to live through, and had locked away.

Flashes of a happy early childhood gave way to bitter disappointment and feelings of guilt with the departure of his mother. Angry scenes with a father determined to make him suppress the senses with which he was gifted, and arguments and bitter competition with a younger brother, spurred on by his father with a view to making the boys tougher. Leaving home to join the army, rising quickly through the ranks to Captain in the Rangers, there were more flashes of a botched mission to Peru. Burned and blackened helicopter wreckage, broken bodies, and finally help from the native Chopec. Guidance offered and accepted from the Chopec shaman, and finally repatriation to a country which didn’t care about his successes or his sacrifices.

“Oh Jim,” whispered Blair, thoroughly upset now, and not on his own behalf. “I’m so sorry man. I wish I could have been there for you. I’m so sorry that you had to face all that alone.”

“It’s fine, kid, and I wasn’t completely alone. I had Sally looking out for me when I was at home, and Incacha the Chopec shaman was able to help me when the senses came back online in the jungle, although he told me straight away that he wasn’t my true Guide. It hasn’t been all bad, baby, and I certainly haven’t had to endure the sort of stuff you’ve had thrust on you, so don’t beat yourself up on my behalf. Let’s just thank whoever is responsible for these things that we’re together now, and can help each other from now on.”

“Yeah, you’re right, Jim, and I’ll try to keep everything in perspective, I promise. Um, do you think we could go shopping now? I think we both need to do something really ordinary, and I’d like to concentrate on something nice but normal, like finding the perfect turkey.”

Jim burst into laughter, completely disarmed by his lover’s ingenuous change of subject.

“Only you, Chief! Only you!” he gasped when he’d gotten his amusement under control.

“Come on, let’s get showered then hit the shops. Sounds like a real plan, baby,” and he stood up, placing Blair back on his feet, and urged his Guide towards the bathroom.

*

Several hours later, Jim and Blair staggered into the loft, arms laden with grocery bags and a handful of post that Jim had picked up on the way up. Still to be carried up from the truck bed was a set of self-assembly shelves for the office that Jim had picked out to supplement the small bookcase which was already filled to overflowing with Blair’s books and papers.

Blair started to unpack the grocery bags, looking much better now, although still somewhat introspective, mulling over Naomi’s disruptive visit.

Jim came over to help for a while, then left Blair to it while he went down to bring the flat-packed shelves up, since he wanted to assemble them that afternoon. He figured that sorting out his books and papers would give Blair something else to think about, after which he fully intended to distract his Guide in other ways, such as making out on the sofa in front of the TV.

It wasn’t until the groceries were all put away - including a pretty darned perfect turkey for the freezer - and Jim was done with wrestling with the shelving, that he finally got around to checking the post.

Blair was in the office, actually humming to himself again while he sorted through his notes and rearranged his book collection to his satisfaction. He stopped what he was doing as soon as he heard Jim’s surprised exclamation from the other room, and went out to see what was wrong.

“Well damn! Unbelievable! Where the hell does he get off with stuff like this?” And the angry Sentinel threw an expensive-looking embossed card and envelope down on the counter.

“Are you all right Jim? Can I do anything?” Blair asked worriedly, hurrying to his partner’s side.

Taking several deep breaths to get himself under some sort of control, Jim said, “It’s nothing, Chief. Well, nothing you should worry about, and I’m not going to worry about it either. It’s just my father butting in again out of the blue when I least expect it. Sort of like your Mom, huh?”

Sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, he squeezed the hand that Blair offered him, and continued. “You might as well know what it’s all about, babe. It’s just that my beloved father, damn his eyes, has obviously decided that now I’m a fully bonded – read ‘important’ – Alpha Sentinel, he now wants to invite me to a Thanksgiving bash at the country club, no doubt to show me off to his business cronies!” and he tossed the fancy invitation over to Blair.

“Could be worse, I suppose”, he went on. “At least he’s invited my Guide as well. Trouble is, reading between the lines, I think he may believe that you’re a woman, Chief!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Blair worriedly. “I suppose Blair is pretty much a unisex name. I think that’s why Naomi chose it in advance. It wouldn’t matter what sex of baby she gave birth to, the name would be OK for either,” he finished ruefully. “Do you want to go?” he added. “After all, it is your family….”

“Not a chance, baby. I’m not parading around for a bunch of stuffed shirts just because I’m now ‘acceptable’ in their social circle. And I wouldn’t put you through that sort of trial either. I want our first shared Thanksgiving celebration to be in our own home, just the two of us, and I want to see you stuffing that turkey, love! The last thing I’m willing to do is jump through hoops just because my old man wants me to.” And with that, he pulled Blair into his arms for a deep and loving kiss, holding the smaller body close, and revelling in the warmth and love he could feel emanating from deep within his Guide’s mind.

After a few more minutes of cuddles, they broke apart, and Blair suggested that he prepare a light supper since it appeared to him that they were undoubtedly going to have a blow-out the following day, judging by the huge amount of provisions Jim had encouraged him to buy. Nodding in agreement, Jim set the table in readiness, while Blair prepared the fixings for his delicious ‘all in’ omelettes; veggie for him, and with added bacon and sausage for Jim.

After the meal was finished and the clean-up done, Jim seized his Guide in passing and squeezed his torso with a chuckle. “You know, Chief, you’re beginning to fill out nicely now. I don’t think you’re ever going to get fat, but it’s good that your ribs have a bit of cover now. Much more comfortable to cuddle up to....” he finished, attempting a comically seductive tone.

Blair giggled happily, and shivered a little when Jim found a couple of his ‘tickle spots’, squeaking when Sentinel fingers began to attack in earnest.

Seconds later, he was on the couch, squirming and laughing until tears streamed down his face, and he cried, “Uncle!” while he still had the breath to speak.

Jim, face wreathed in smiles, pulled him up and straightened Blair’s layers of clothing which had twisted every which way.

“How’s about you choose a film to watch, baby? I’ll go and get us a couple of beers, and I’m thinking a nice evening making out in front of the TV sounds just the ticket.” He was more than pleased when Blair smiled and nodded his agreement with nary a tremor; further evidence that he was growing more and more relaxed and trusting in his Sentinel’s company.

A couple of hours later, having watched an occasional action scene from ‘Iron Man’ in between some serious necking, Blair was settled down on the sofa with his head on a pillow on Jim’s lap. As usual, the Sentinel was carding his fingers through Blair’s soft curls; an action that both soothed his senses and his Guide. He looked down with an indulgent smile when he heard the first soft snore telling him that Blair had fallen asleep, probably exhausted with the events of a day that had more than a few ups and downs for both of them.

He thought about Naomi’s visit, and the upset she had caused, not so much caring about what she’d said about him – he’d heard far worse during his work at the PD – but how she’d appeared to believe that her son was incapable of recovering from his ordeal without her support and some weird new-age meditation shit. Not only that, but he hadn’t discerned any real empathy in her for Blair’s suffering, only a barely disguised disgust - a belief that he ‘hadn’t fought hard enough’ which was a classic reaction from the less sympathetic towards perceived rape victims. Added to that her very real dismay at the notion of bonding, especially to a ‘pig’, and it was no wonder that Blair had been reduced to tears once again.

Clamping down hard on his rising irritation when he heard a small moan of distress from the sleeping Guide, he continued with his stroking until Blair settled back down.

His thoughts moving away from Naomi to his own parent, and once again he was hard put to not explode with indignation at his father’s high-handed attitude towards his estranged son. How the man had the gall to send a formal invitation to his society bash, and expect Jim to come running, towing his new Guide along for the ride was completely beyond belief as far as Jim was concerned. Smiling wickedly, he contemplated for a moment the reactions of his Dad’s business buddies if they were introduced to Blair wearing the ‘party boy’ sub gear the kid had been forced to wear – though god forbid he’d ever make Blair suffer that indignity again – but the image of spluttering, red faced dismay coming from the stuffed shirts held a certain charm nonetheless.

Stifling a yawn himself, he decided it was time to turn in, so he gently roused Blair enough to steer him towards the bathroom, still more than half asleep. After doing the necessary, he virtually carried his Guide up to the bedroom, thanking the gods that he worked out as much as he did, since even skinny, Blair was a fair weight to manoeuvre when more or less unconscious.

Stripping them both down to their underwear, he got them both settled in bed, with him spooned comfortably behind and around his Guide, and dropped almost immediately into a deep sleep.

*

After a few days of relative quiet at the PD in terms of criminal activity, Thursday morning dawned bright and clear in the sort of rare dry and sunny late Fall day almost unheard of in Cascade.

Jim awoke from a deep and restful sleep, to look up at his Guide, who, propped up on one elbow, was watching him, face soft and relaxed from sleep. He smiled up at the younger man’s open and plainly adoring expression, and murmured, “Hey beautiful, what’s up?”

Although it was not altogether unknown for Blair to wake first, it was pretty much always the case that Jim woke first, to spend long moments gazing at his Guide before gently waking him with tender caresses. Now it was Blair’s turn, and he wordlessly reached out and stroked his Sentinel’s broad and muscular chest with a gentle hand.

“I was just looking at you, and thinking how lucky I am to have such a gorgeous and kind man as my lover and Sentinel. It’s more than I could ever have hoped for, and definitely more than I deserve. I keep dumping my emotional breakdown shit on you, and you keep looking out for me and comforting me. What can I do for you to repay you?”

Deeply touched, Jim reached up and pulled his lover into his arms, rolling them over so that the smaller body lay on top of him.

“What makes you think you don’t repay me every single day, baby? Just having you with me, grounding me and making sure I get the best of food, and everything else ‘sentinel-friendly’ that you think I need is more than enough. On top of that, how could I not care for you? You’re beautiful, smart and generous. There’s no ‘owing’ or ‘repaying’ between us, lover. We just ‘are’. A true Sentinel / Guide, Jim / Blair pairing.”

Seeing that his words had had the effect of making Blair somewhat teary-eyed, he distracted him by pulling his face down for a kiss, and then added with a chuckle, “Tell you what, baby – I think you’ll be doing more than enough ‘repaying’ when you entertain me by letting me watch you stuff that turkey! How’s about we get downstairs and start looking out the ingredients you’ll need?”

Giggling in response, Blair nodded, and bent to kiss his lover again before sliding off the muscular body to sit on the side of the bed. “Can we have a shower together first?” he asked, still shy about requesting any act of intimacy between them, even though he knew Jim was always happy to oblige.

“Just what I was thinking, babe,” responded Jim, an enormous smile in place, as he knew that Blair’s diffident suggestion actually implied that he would like to pleasure his Sentinel in some way. And since he was still prone to the occasional flashback in bed, he was less likely to instigate a sexual act in that situation.

Taking Blair’s hand, they went downstairs together, and while Blair took care of business and started the shower, Jim sorted out some comfortable sweats for them, since he had no intention of doing anything else but relaxing in the loft today.

When he entered the bathroom, he looked his fill at his Guide, who stood before him quite naked, although he was blushing fiercely and couldn’t quite meet Jim’s eyes.

Running his eyes appreciatively over the slender figure, Jim was pleased to see that most of Blair’s scars were fading nicely, although they would never be completely hidden from sentinel eyes. Tattoos notwithstanding, he looked good enough to eat as far as Jim was concerned.

Stepping forward, Jim was moved to say, “Hey there, beautiful, what’s a gorgeous body like you doing in my bathroom?” And, cupping Blair’s face with large and gentle hands, he lowered his face to take the succulent mouth in a kiss of pure delight. Pushing back a little, he turned the smaller man and urged him to step in under the warm water, moving in behind him and reaching for the lightly scented shower gel.

“Please, let me?” whispered Blair. Holding out his hand for the container, he smiled contentedly when Jim held it out to him.

“Sure, babe, anything you want.”

With permission granted, he began to wash his Sentinel with careful hands, gradually making the touches more intimate until Jim, and Jim’s erection, were more than ready for the loving mouth that worked him until he came with a cry of pure passion.

Rising to his feet, Blair looked up into Jim’s face to see satisfaction, pleasure and love all there for the Guide to see.

When he had recovered enough to talk, Jim spoke, voice deep with emotion. “Thank you, baby. That was so good. Can I do the same for you?”

Blair was a little taken aback, because although Jim was only too willing to hold him and kiss and caress him to ecstasy, especially as he was still so wary about being penetrated, he had only once offered to actually take Blair’s cock in his mouth, and Blair had assumed that the idea was slightly repugnant for Sentinel senses, especially with an abused Guide.

“Uh Jim, are you sure? I mean, yeah, I’d really like that, but I didn’t think it was your scene, man. I mean, what with your senses, and me being what I am and all--”

“What you are, babe, is someone who deserves to be loved and cherished every day of your life, and if I haven’t made a habit of offering you a blow job before, it was only because I wanted to be sure you were ready for it, lover, not because I find it distasteful. So, what do you say?”

And at Blair’s stunned nod of acceptance, he did just that, until his Guide was almost boneless with satisfaction.

Quickly washing themselves off, because the hot water was rapidly running out, they dried off and dressed in the warm sweats, moving to the kitchen for fresh coffee and bagels before Blair, donning Jim’s flowery apron, set to in making his from-scratch chestnut stuffing with an endearing frown of concentration on his face.

Guessing it was better to keep out of his Guide’s way for the time being, Jim busied himself by laying the table with the best china and silverware that hadn’t seen the light of day since the divorce. Frankly, he’d been surprised that Carolyn hadn’t insisted on taking it with her, but was grateful now for the oversight.

He even produced a bottle of good red Oregon wine to go in the crystal glasses he unearthed from the depths of the cabinet.

That done, he turned on the TV and flipped through a few channels until he found the NFL game he wanted to watch, and settled down comfortably with his attention straying between the sports action and the bustling activity in the kitchen, which, for the enamoured Sentinel, was far more captivating.

As it turned out, stuffing the large turkey proved to be as entertaining as expected for the pair of them, and Blair was red-faced with exertion by the time it was completed to his satisfaction, but grinning happily from ear to ear while Jim applauded from the sofa.

With that done, and the bird in the oven, Blair came over to the sofa to have a cuddling session before returning to the kitchen to prepare the vegetables.

“Great work, Chief!. You really are an excellent turkey stuffer!” joked Jim, ruffling his Guide’s hair affectionately.

“Actually,” Blair confessed, “I’ve only done it once before, ‘cos Naomi didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving as such. We just used to muck in with whatever was going on in whatever culture or country we were in at the time, so all the celebrations sort of ran together. That went for the food as well, so I got used to having all sorts of weird combinations. It’s good to be able to do something completely traditional for once,” he finished with a smile, missing the brief flash of sympathy that his words had elicited in Jim on his behalf.

Quickly stifling his momentary dismay, Jim grinned back and replied with a heart-felt, “That’s as may be, babe, but I can see lots of Thanksgiving turkeys in our future, and you’ll be stuffing every one of them!”

“Oh joy!” came the cheerful response, as Blair managed to snag a pillow and whap his Sentinel over the head with it before even considering whether he should be so forward. Taken by surprise, Jim beamed in genuine pleasure before retaliating in kind until a full-scale pillow fight was in progress. This eventually led to a running battle around the sofa until Jim, using his superior height and strength, grabbed his Guide and lifted him bodily over the sofa back and dumped him in a giggling heap on the cushions.

“OK, enough!” he said, somewhat breathlessly. “Older guy here, so have some pity!”

Blair gaped at him for a second from his position on the sofa, and then broke into fits of laughter such that Jim had never before heard from the younger man and he just had to join in, it was so contagious in its unaffected joyfulness.

Once they had themselves back under control, and wiped away the tears running down their flushed faces, Jim cuddled his Guide to him in pure delight, before standing him back on his feet and shoving him gently towards the kitchen with a light swat to the attractive ass. “Back to the galley with you, O Master Chef, and prepare my veggies!”

Grinning and sticking his tongue out at Jim from over his shoulder, Blair went back to the kitchen to do just that, concentrating too hard for a while to realise that his Sentinel was being beset by several thoughts and emotions, all of them to do with his Guide, and all of them good.

Jim was overjoyed with Blair’s response to his teasing, as the young man was still so nervous in so many ways. The totally spontaneous pillow fight that his Guide had instigated, plus his genuine joy and laughter warmed Jim’s heart to the extent that he felt a lump in his throat from the emotion. Swallowing down the maudlin reaction before he could upset the happy soul puttering around with veggies and chopping boards, he returned to his TV / Blair-watching activities until it was time for Blair’s next break from his voluntary kitchen chores.

Some hours later, around mid-afternoon, the sumptuous meal was ready and set out on the festive table. Blair was somewhat tired, a bit sweaty and very dishevelled, but extraordinarily proud and happy to have cooked the whole spread, and he grinned at Jim, glowing with a real sense of achievement.

For his part, Jim was almost overwhelmed with a feeling of gratitude, happiness and honest–to-goodness sap as he gazed from his Guide to the repast spread out in front of him.

“Well, Chief, all I can say is thank you and well done, which doesn’t even begin to express how good this is. Sit down now, and I’ll pour the wine, then you can do the honours and carve that there turkey!”

“Um, Jim if you don’t mind, I’d rather you did that,” replied Blair a little shame-faced. “I’ve never yet actually carved anything with any success, even the only other turkey I cooked. Unless you want a disaster area on your plate, I think you should do it.”

“Sure Chief, I can do that,” replied Jim cheerfully, and, using sentinel precision, sliced the bird and dished out ample portions for both of them, plus generous helpings of the chestnut stuffing. Add to that an assortment of vegetables and some very good gravy, and they were good to go.

Picking up his wine glass, Jim proposed a toast, much to his blushing partner’s shy pleasure.

“To us, Chief. To a happy life and future together, and to plenty more stuffed turkeys!”

“Amen to that, Jim,” came the quiet but firm response, and with that they settled in to eat.

By early evening they had eaten their fill, stored the leftovers and shared the washing up, even though Jim had said he would do it himself, since Blair had done all the cooking. Blair had countered that by saying that if they both did it, it would be finished much quicker and they could kick back and relax for the rest of the evening. Still feeling a little guilty, because after all, he’d been kicking back all day watching his lover do all the work, Jim allowed himself to be persuaded, promising himself he would make it up to his lover later on.

Settling down in front of the TV, and enjoying the cosy warmth from the fire Jim had lit earlier in the day, they found a couple of films they hadn’t seen before and snuggled up together, relaxing into the sofa cushions.

Jim wasn’t surprised, or upset, when his Guide dozed off after a while, head dropping onto Jim’s shoulder. Knowing Blair deserved a nap after all the kitchen duties, he gently manoeuvred the lax body to lie with his head on a pillow on Jim’s lap – a position Jim was happy to assume since it left him free to stroke the soft curls. Indeed, he would be content to do it every night, given the chance.

Relaxing contentedly and feeling comfortably full, Jim leaned his head back and half watched the TV whilst tuning in automatically to monitor his Guide. Feeling heavy-eyed himself due to the soporific effect of Blair’s soft snores and snuffles, he was just dozing off when he went suddenly to full alert, knowing he was just about to have some very unwelcome visitors.

Gently sliding out from beneath Blair, and placing another cushion under his Guide’s head in the hope that he would continue to sleep undisturbed, Jim quickly and silently moved to the door which he opened with a flourish before his father had a chance to knock.

Somewhat taken aback, but quickly recovering, the older man glanced between his older son and Steven, Jim’s younger brother who stood at his side, and spoke with an air of inborn authority.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in, Jimmy? Surely it’s the least you can do after ignoring the invitation to my Thanksgiving party.”

Taking in the men’s formal attire, and assuming they were on their way home from the country club, Jim stepped aside with bad grace, and held the door open for them to enter, but didn’t invite them further into the loft than the entrance hall.

“This isn’t a good time Dad. I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your invitation, but I didn’t receive it until Saturday, and I’d already made my plans. I admit I should have given you a call, but considering you’ve had no time for me in years, I hardly thought you’d miss me this time.”

William Ellison pursed his lips and considered his answer, knowing that his son had a point. He hadn’t had much inclination to contact Jimmy after his return from Peru, even though in all honesty he had been sincerely glad that his son still lived. Instead he had concentrated his attention on the son who did adhere to his wishes, and groomed Steven to take over his business empire.

However, the change in status which bonding bestowed on a sentinel made him reconsider his attitude towards Jimmy, and he began to realise what an asset having a fully bonded Alpha Sentinel son could be for his social standing both at work and at the country club.

“You may have a point there, Jimmy, but the fact remains that as your father I expect a certain level of courtesy from you. I want to see this young lady you’ve bonded with, to see if she’s the right class of person for you, or if you’ll have to keep her away from social functions.”

Almost lost for words at his father’s self-centred and arrogant attitude, Jim reacted instinctively. Grabbing the man’s sleeve, he dragged him over to the couch where Blair slept on in innocence. Hissing almost under his breath so as not to wake his Guide in his fury, he grated out, “There you go Dad. That’s my Blair. Not a woman, but a beautiful and intelligent young man, who has done me the greatest honour in consenting to bond with me. This is the person I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with, because this is my family now, by choice. Now get out, and don’t come round again until you are prepared to act with respect towards my Guide!”

So saying, he pulled his father back to the door, totally ignoring both his and Steven’s shocked and bewildered expressions as he pushed them ungraciously out in to the hall.

“Jimmy! How could you? What were you thinking?” spluttered William in confusion.

“Leave him be,” Steven said to him, while glancing at his furious elder brother. “It’s nothing to do with us, Dad, and if it’s what Jim wants, you can’t do anything about it. Come on, let’s go.” And casting another glance at Jim, this one full of apology, he steered his still spluttering father towards the elevator.

Breathing hard, and desperately clutching at every last vestige of control, Jim finally stepped back into the loft only when he had heard the elevator reach the first floor, and his father and brother leave the building.

Taking a last deep breath, he turned towards the couch to see a sleepy and bewildered Blair peering up at him, hair every which way, and an adorable expression of confusion plastered over his face.

“Jim, man, are you OK? What happened? Have I missed something?” he mumbled, trying to get his head and mouth into sync.

Immediately relaxing at the sight of his cute and mussed Guide, Jim was able to respond with a smile.

“It’s OK, baby, really. We just had some unexpected visitors, and I got rid of them as soon as I could.”

Suddenly more alert, and frowning in concern, his Guide replied, “What aren’t you telling me? Has something happened to upset you? Is it to do with me?” this last whispered in fear, as he could plainly read his Sentinel’s reactions to his words.

Jim sighed deeply, and moved over to take the slender body into his arms. Hugging Blair close, he decided that he might as well tell all, so that they could deal with it and move on.

“First off, baby, you did nothing wrong. It’s just my Dad,” he began, putting a finger up to Blair’s lips in a gesture that implied his lover should remain silent for now.

“While you were sleeping, he and my brother Steven called to take me to task for not going to the country club bash. OK, I know I should have called, but considering we didn’t get the invitation until Saturday, I don’t think we should worry too much about that. Trouble is, my Dad has a huge hang-up about his social standing, and apparently decided that parading me and my Guide around would gain him masses of Brownie points, just like we thought. I’m sorry, love, but I never even considered that he’d follow up his invite with a visit.”

Head lowered in shame, Blair whispered, “He saw me, didn’t he? And instead of some personable girl he saw a scarred and beat-up kid. I’m right aren’t I?” he continued, voice deepening even further in his self-abasement. “Oh gods, Jim, what can I do to make it right for you? I’m destroying all your credibility here, man.” And he couldn’t stop the single tear that escaped from beneath his closed eyelids.

That was the last straw for Jim, and he grabbed his Guide by the upper arms and shook him firmly but gently, not wishing to hurt him, but to attract his undivided attention.

“That’s quite enough of that, babe. It’s his problem if he can’t deal with me having a male Guide, and same goes for his cronies and anyone else. I don’t care, never have, about meeting with his approval. Jeez, Chief, we’re talking about a guy who couldn’t even bring himself to contact his own son after said son was brought back alive from Peru! Why the hell should I care about his opinion?”

Gentling his tone he continued, now pulling his beloved partner into a warm and reaffirming hug. “Between you and me, Chief, I think parents are way over-rated.”

Snuggling into his Sentinel’s broad and comforting chest, Blair couldn’t help but agree.

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