Songs You Know by Heart 6:  I Cross My Heart
by JR  (JRR42@yahoo.com)

Disclaimer:   Jim, Blair, Simon, and everyone else you recognize 
are owned by UPN and Pet Fly Productions and are used without 
their permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any 
copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.  'I Cross My Heart' 
by George Strait also used without permission.  

THANKYOU!THANKYOU!THANKYOU!  To the wonderful 
people who stepped into the beta reading batter's box: Heather, 
Marius, and Vickster.  Equal hugs of appreciation go to Kim, Hope, 
and Wolfling.  This wouldn't have been posted (or have a sex scene ;-) 
without their much needed input. Eriker, many thanks for the wonderful 
suggestions and encouragement.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

	The sun was strong in the midday sky.  After adjusting his
Ray-Ban’s, Jim Ellison flipped a page in the Tom Clancy book he
held propped open in his other hand.  God, just how long had it
been since he’d had time to read more than a page or two before
giving into his exhaustion and falling into another night of
horror-filled dreams?  

	Too long.

	A deep sigh escaped him as he closed the book and set it
aside.  Out of a habit he’d learned in what seemed like another
life, his pale blue eyes made a cursory sweep of the open quad
around him, searching out any potential dangers before allowing
himself to rest easily.  Nothing out of the ordinary caught his
attention.  Of course not.  Crime wasn’t exactly a major
consideration on the Eastern Virginia College campus.  Shaking
his head at the unnecessary precaution, Jim reclined back into an
untidy sprawl on the blanket spread out beneath him.

	In the distance, the Appalachian Mountains loomed on all
sides, creating the valley in which the entire campus was located.  
This was a much older chain than the Cascade range back in
Washington, or even  the majestic Rockies.  Over the millennia,
time and the elements left their marks, wearing down the sharp
cliffs and jagged edges of the rocks.   These mountains were
rounded, softer and greener than their western counterparts. 
Even on a bright day like today, a perpetual haze tinted the
forest- covered hills in the distance with a purple hue.   That same
haze was the reason the region was often referred to as the Great
Smokey Mountains.   

	The last time Jim had visited Blair, the younger man had
given him a complete run-down on the history of the area.   The
anthropologist in Blair was fascinated by the various native
American tribes, the local folklore, even the customs of the
region.  As usual, Jim only half-listened to his guide’s
mini-lecture.   As he looked over his surroundings, Jim wished
now that he’d paid more attention to what his guide had said back
then.  

	It was easy to understand why his guide liked living here.  
The beauty of the area was breathtaking, and for the most part,
the majority of the people he’d come across adhered to the rules
of traditional Southern hospitality.  It seemed to Jim, a man born
and bred in a large city, that life moved a little slower here. 
Instead of rushing from one place to another, people stopped to
look along the way.  Clichéd and idealistic?  Maybe.  But, to put
it frankly, it was something the sentinel needed desperately right
now.

	It felt so good to finally be able to relax.  For a while
there, Jim wondered if  he’d forgotten the concept.  Five weeks. 
Five long weeks and thirteen little boys raped and murdered.   He
never asked for the case, no cop *liked* working on child
homicides, but the thought of refusing never once crossed his
mind, either.  As with many cases of this nature, eventually the
Feds were called in, and as sure as night follows day, the FBI had
jurisdiction in the matter.  As the original investigators, Jim and
his partner, Brian Rafe, remained on as part of the Federal Task
force, only two out of nearly a dozen men searching a large city
for a single psychopath.  Suffice it to say, Jim’s low opinion of
Federal agents did not improve much as time wore on and the
body count rose.

 	With each broken, violated victim they were called to
investigate, with each pair of tormented parents’ eyes he faced,
with each clue that led to yet another dead end, Jim felt a little
more of himself slipping away.  Only Blair’s nightly phone calls
kept him going from day to day.  Sometimes they talked about
the case, or on the nights that Jim couldn’t stand to think about it
any longer, Blair would talk about his classes or his students.  On
the most painful nights of all, those twelve nights that followed
the discovery of yet another victim, Blair would listen silently as
Jim released his rage over failing the youngest of those he was
charged to protect, both as a police officer and as the Sentinel of
the Great City.   And just once, when his anger was finally spent,
Jim cried out his sorrow and frustration while Blair comforted
him with soft words of love.

	The sound of distant laughter broke Jim out of his reverie. 
Opening a single eye, he focused his powerful vision in order to
gain a visual of the source of the sound.  Two girls were walking
side by side across the parking lot about 200 yards away. 
Without meaning to, he picked up part of their discussion over
where to go to lunch.  With practiced ease, he filtered out the
sound of their voices.

	Nearly seven weeks after the first body was found, the
task force closed in on one Jeffery Mason -- only minutes too late
to save the life of the last victim, an eight year old boy. 
Somehow, even through Mason’s insane laughter and the
taunting barbs he threw at the officers for taking so long to find
him, Jim kept himself from breaking the man’s neck then and
there.  

	But Jim Ellison forgot that he wasn’t the only one who’d
been working the case from the beginning, nor was he the only
one near the breaking point.

	With a cry that would have made a Confederate Rebel
proud, Brian Rafe hurled himself at Mason, beating him into
unconsciousness before any of the other officers could even get
close enough to pull him away from the murderer.   Jim would
wonder the rest of his days if, just perhaps, he hesitated purposely
before pulling his partner off Mason.  Maybe, just maybe, he
wished that it was he, instead of Brian, who rained blows on the
sick son of a bitch; standing by and doing nothing until the man
was beaten and bloody.

	Regardless, Rafe’s actions could have cost him his badge,
not to mention a nasty lawsuit for police brutality.  Internal
Affairs looked into the matter, but after word filtered down from
the Feds that Mason wouldn’t be pressing charges, Brian found
himself on a two week unpaid suspension rather than facing
unemployment.  He was lucky, and they all knew it.

	Once the matter with Brian was settled and all the
paperwork ‘crossed and dotted’ to perfection, Jim found himself
being called into his Captain’s office.  He was tired; the kind of
soul-weary exhaustion that left the sentinel feeling even more
hyper-aware of his surroundings than he usually was, as though
all his nerve endings were suddenly outside of his skin.  He
couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that didn’t
come from a drive-thru window, nor could he recall the last time
he’d slept without nightmares.  He was close to losing himself,
and the worst part was the fact that he was aware of it.

	“I’m giving you a week’s leave, Jim,” Simon Banks told
him matter-of-factly.  Chomping down on the unlit cigar in his
mouth, the Captain handed him a small slip of paper.  “Go see the
kid.  He knows you’re coming, and he’ll pick you up at the
airport.”

	For the first time, Jim actually looked at the note in his
hand.  A flight number and a time were the only things written on
it.   While the idea of taking a few days off was certainly
tempting, and the mere thought of getting to see Blair again was
causing some interesting jolts below his waistline; Jim’s number
of vacation days was already dwindling for the year.  In January,
he’d taken a week-long trip out to Virginia, and more recently he,
his brother Steven, and Blair had traveled to Aspen for a late
spring vacation.  “I really appreciate this, Simon, but I just took
two weeks, God, was it really only two months ago?  It seems
like ancient history already.”

	“Which is exactly why you’re going now.   The days off
are comp time from all the extra hours you worked on the Mason
case.   Now just go home, pack your bags, and give me a call
when you’re ready to go to the airport.  Sandburg said it was
pretty warm in Virginia this time of year, so bring some summer
clothing.”  Simon was waving a dismissive hand towards his
door, but kept speaking anyway.  “Oh, and tell the kid that Darryl
and I said hello, and that if you aren’t rested and ready to return
to work at the end of the week, he shouldn’t bother coming back
to Cascade any time in the near future.”   The last part was said
with a mock glare, and Jim smiled at what he knew was sarcasm.  
Over the years, Simon Banks had grown to respect, and though
he’d never admit it out loud, admire Blair’s tenacity and his
devotion to Jim.

	On the way home, Jim’s sleep-deprived brain considered
the matter a little further.  Jim couldn’t help but doubt that Simon
would still feel the same way if he ever found out that Blair
Sandburg was Jim’s lover.  The thought of Simon discovering
that little nugget of information sent a chill down Jim’s spine. 
That he loved Blair wasn’t the problem; having that love as
common knowledge was just something neither he, nor Blair, was
ready to face.  Yet.

	The flight out to Virginia was uneventful, in fact to his
embarrassment, the flight attendant had to wake him for the
landing.  Changing planes wasn’t a problem for once, and finally
he was face to face with his lover for the first time in over two
months.   Paying no mind to the people around them, Jim pulled
Blair into a back-breaking hug in the middle of the small regional
airport.

	“Simon was right, you *do* look like an extra from
‘Night of the Living Dead’.  C’mon, man.  Let’s get you home
and put to bed,” Blair admonished as he lead Jim to the baggage
claim area.  Once they were in the car, Jim grabbed the younger
man’s hand, needing the tangible connection between them just as
much as he needed air to breathe.  To his credit, Blair never once
let go; not even when Jim dozed off during the hour long drive. 

	The minute Blair closed the door to his faculty apartment,
Jim pushed him gently against a wall and kissed him with all the
passion he possessed.   As tired as he was, Jim’s body still
followed along with his mind’s desire.   Even fully-clothed, the
friction of their rubbing bodies led both men to explosive orgasms
within minutes.  Unfortunately, it also drained the last of the
sentinel’s reserve energy.   Asleep on his feet, he allowed Blair to
lead him to the bedroom, but he would later have no memory of
the younger man stripping off his clothes and tidying up after
their sexual interlude by the door.  The last thing he remembered
was the comforting, familiar sound of Blair’s heartbeat.

	The next thing he knew, he was waking from the demands
of a painfully full bladder.  A quick sweep of the apartment told
him that Blair was not home, not surprising considering it was
already daylight again.  Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jim made
his way to the bathroom, only to be stunned when he passed a
clock along the way.   Taking into account the time difference,
he’d slept almost twenty hours.  Blair came home from work
while Jim was in the shower.  Always looking out for his
sentinel’s needs, his guide was well prepared for the return of
Jim’s appetite, feeding him a huge dinner before insisting that he
return to bed for another marathon round of sleep.   Honestly, the
sentinel thought he wasn’t tired; teasing Blair that a ‘good,
healthy sexual workout’ might help, though.  His guide just
smiled, spooning up behind his larger form.  Jim was asleep
before Blair finished settling into a comfortable position.

	That was just last night.  After another solid,
nightmare-free twelve hours of shut-eye, Jim’s biorhythm was
back to normal.  Now, if only his mind would follow suit.   The
detective was well aware that he had been physically exhausted by
the long hours and nightmare- interrupted sleep working the
Mason case.  But all the rest in the world wouldn’t make his
doubts and self-loathing disappear.

	An unbidden memory rose in Jim’s thoughts; one of
himself standing in the kitchen back in the loft during the Lash
case.  He remembered telling his relatively new partner that he
needed to learn how to distance himself from the victims in their
murder cases.  God, what a hypocrite he was, lecturing Blair like
a cadet from the police academy, when he, the detective, was
completely unable to practice what he preached.

	An involuntary shudder ran through the sentinel’s large
frame as he recalled just how close he’d come to losing Blair to
the serial killer.  But Jim had come through, shooting five rounds
into Lash and earning the title of ‘Blessed Protector of Blair
Sandburg’ in the process.  While five bullets may have seemed
excessive to everybody else, the review board included, to Jim’s
way of thinking, the number was nowhere near enough.  Perhaps
that was why Jim chose to just stand by and watch Rafe as he
pummeled Mason into a pulp...

	By sheer force of his considerable will, Jim narrowly
managed to shelve the stray thoughts of both the Mason and Lash
cases.  He was there to relax, he silently repeated to himself like a
mantra.  Like a magician using one hand to distract attention from
the other, the sentinel replaced the pain-filled thoughts by
trooping out more pleasant memories:  those of his guide.

	Earlier that morning, Blair invited Jim to accompany him
to the campus that day, promising a fun-filled, relaxing event for
the afternoon.  He wouldn’t say what they were going to be
doing, but quite frankly, Jim couldn’t have cared less if he ended
up reading research journals all day, as long as he got to spend
time with his lover.  
	
	The sound of the bell tower chiming the noon hour
interrupted Jim’s mental wanderings.  It also reminded him that
he needed to get up and get moving.  After years of bitching
about Sandburg’s habit of perpetual tardiness, the sentinel knew
that he would never hear the end of it if he was late.  With a
joint-popping stretch, Jim rose and neatly folded the blanket on
which he’d been resting.  Grabbing his book off the grass, he
headed off in the direction of Blair’s office.

	With a detective’s eye, Jim noticed that there were more
people walking around now that the majority of classes had let
out for the day, but there was still a feeling of emptiness to the
campus.  While fall and spring enrollment numbers usually
averaged about 8,500; only 500 students or so signed up for
summer courses.  

	Blair was teaching two summer classes this session, an
Anthropology 101 which met on Tuesday and Thursday nights
from six ‘til ten, and a special seminar on Native American tribal
customs which convened daily from ten in the morning until
noon.  It was the latter class he was teaching now.   Or, more
precisely, it was class that had just concluded for the day.
	
	Most of the tenured faculty declined to teach over the
summer months, preferring either to travel, spend time with their
families, or even focus on research or articles for publication.  As
low-man in the Anthropology Department’s hierarchy, Blair was
expected to assume the duties of the Anthro 101 offering on the
summer schedule.  While he would have preferred spending his
summer in Cascade with Jim, Blair’s contract with the EVC ran
from the previous August until this July, leaving him no choice in
the matter.

	The year-long contract was binding in more ways than
one, though.  Because of his agreement with the University, Blair
was required to give at least two months notice before leaving to
pursue another teaching position -- a deadline that was rapidly
approaching.  As early as March, the young professor had
carefully and methodically submitted fresh resumes to many of the
same colleges and universities he’d applied to only eight months
earlier.  Although Blair enjoyed working at EVC, it was still his
goal to find a position somewhere relatively close to Cascade. 
Unfortunately, to both his own and Jim’s frustration, all the
replies he’d received thus far were negative.

	With his powerful sense of sight, Jim easily spotted Blair
standing out in front of Bryant Hall.  Like many buildings
throughout the south, most of EVC’s dormitories and lecture
halls were made of red brick.  It was a common building material
due to the abundance of red clay in the region.

	“Hi Chief,” Jim greeted tenderly.  He was more than
half-tempted to grab Blair and examine his tonsils, and from the
look on his lover’s face, the feeling was mutual.  However, there
were still students milling about, and more than likely, some of
them Blair’s.  While the majority of EVC’s student body were
liberal in their thinking, the school still had it’s share of bigots and
it was impossible to spot them by appearance alone.

	“Hey Jim,” Blair replied.  The tone of his guide’s voice
was as much of a caress as the gentlest touch could ever be.

	“So what’s on tap for this afternoon?” Jim inquired.

	As he asked the question, the front door of Bryant Hall
swung open.  A tall brunette emerged dressed in cut-off denim
shorts.  The strap of a red bikini top that tied around the neck
showed just above the collar of her white, over-sized T-shirt. 
“Hey, Jim.  Here Blair,” she said as she handed over a plastic bag
covered with the logo of the local discount store.  “Y’all ready to
go?”

	“Yeah Sabra.  We’ll meet you there,” Blair replied.  “Let’s
go,” he said to his sentinel, handing the bag over to his lover.

	Sabra Lowstein was many things in life:  the student
assistant to the Anthropology department, the granddaughter of
EVC’s Chancellor, and most importantly, one of Blair’s newest
test subjects.  In addition to teaching his regular classes, Blair was
still actively pursuing his research on the sentinel phenomenon.

	He’d yet to find another full sentinel, but Sabra possessed
four heightened senses: sight, hearing, taste, and smell.  That
alone would have been enough to warrant further study.  Initially,
Sabra sorely lacked the level of control she needed to live a
relatively normal life, and Blair was all too willing to help her
learn how to do just that.  Now, a year after they started working
together, Sabra was handling her senses with little outside
assistance.   In comparison, her abilities were nowhere near as
advanced as Jim’s, nor would they likely ever become so, which
was fine by her.

	Jim’s eyes trailed after Sabra as she made her way to the
student parking lot.  A feeling of sadness washed over Jim as he
noticed the limp in her steps.  She’d been in a rather nasty car
wreck the previous Thanksgiving, one that almost cost Sabra her
life.  Months of extensive physical therapy were needed for her to
simply walk again, but she would have a  limp for the rest of her
days.

	Following Jim’s line of sight, Blair smiled sadly.  “She’s
doing a lot better now that she’s back in school.”

	A deep exhale accompanied Jim’s next words.  “Why is it
always the good ones, Chief?” he asked rhetorically.  “Why not
some scumbag drug dealer or pimp?”

	“’Cause it can be a cruel universe,” Blair noted
philosophically.

	“It usually is, Chief.  It usually is,”  Jim replied, thinking
about those thirteen children whose only crime was being in the
wrong place at the wrong time.   As a feeling of depression
washed over him, Blair placed a hand on his shoulder and
squeezed.   It didn’t chase the shadows in Jim’s thoughts away
completely, but it helped to remind him that he wasn’t all alone in
the world.

****************************

	Twenty minutes and some very winding mountain roads
later, Blair’s Volvo station wagon pulled off the highway and
onto a dirt road.  Just past the turn-off, the sentinel spied a sign
that read:  “Doyle River Access and Recreational Area.”   Ahead
in the distance, Jim easily saw dozens of cars with various items
strapped to the roofs.  Several of the vehicles’ radios were
blasting, car doors flung open to increase the sounds of the music. 
Groups of people gathered around the picnic tables, some eating,
some just sitting around shooting the breeze.  A couple of girls in
bikinis were laying out in the sun on towels.  Two men were
sliding kayaks into the water, getting ready to set off
downstream.

	As soon as Blair parked the car, it was surrounded by a
group of college students calling out various greetings.

	“Hey!  Dr. S.  We got everythin’ set up over here fer
y’all,” one kid drawled out slowly.

	“Cool, Corbett.  We’ll be there in a minute,”  Blair called
out the window before he began rolling it shut.  Jim followed suit
and moved to exit the car, but halted when Blair asked for his
wallet.  An uncomfortable look passed over Jim’s face as he
watched the younger man shut both their billfolds into the glove
compartment, locking it with the ignition key.   Earlier that
morning, Blair had been firm when he requested that Jim leave his
gun back at the faculty apartment.

	“I take it we’re going swimming?” Jim asked, still unsure
of what the plans were for the afternoon.

	“Not exactly.  Oh, you can leave your shirt here, but put
these on,” Blair answered, handing over the bag from Sabra. 
Inside it was a pair of generic, black velcro-and-rubber sandals. 
Hardly his style, Jim balked at the thought of wearing them; but
Blair insisted, strapping on a pair of his own.  “The rocks can be
pretty sharp, and I doubt that you want to ruin your Nikes.”   The
younger man was quite correct.  The idea of ruining a pair of top
of the line sneakers was less than appealing.  Using his lover’s
ever-present pocket knife to cut off the tags, Jim fiddled with the
straps, adjusting and readjusting the velcro until he was satisfied
with the fit.  To be honest, he was surprised at just how
comfortable they felt, even if they weren’t much to look at
fashion-wise.

	Once finished, they stripped down to their bathing trunks
and applied a generous coat of water-proof sunscreen.   Finally,
the younger man locked the car doors and set out to find his
students with Jim in tow.

	Nearing the group, Jim saw Sabra standing among four
other college kids, two guys and two other girls.   Off to one side
was a large stack of rubber inner-tubes, the kind that used to fit
semi-tractor trailers.  The kids were horsing around, laughing at
something or another, but called out pleasantly when their teacher
approached.

	“Hey guys, this is Jim, my best friend from back in
Cascade,” Blair gestured with a wave of his hand.  He then
proceeded to introduce the kids to Jim.  The older man only
hoped that he would be able to keep all the names and faces
straight in his mind.

	“Here, Jim.”  One of the guys tossed the sentinel a can of
beer, evoking a frown.  The detective sincerely doubted that the
kid was twenty-one, and underage possession was a crime in the
State of Virginia.  

	Noticing the look of disapproval on his lover’s face, Blair
whispered for Jim’s ears alone.  “C’mon, Jim, relax.  When in
Rome.  It’s not like they’re going to be driving anywhere, and it’s
nothing they don’t do the rest of the week.”

	Blair’s pleas for understanding made no impact on Jim
whatsoever.  The law was the law, no matter if the local
authorities turned a blind eye or not.  Finally, the sentinel looked
up from the can he held in his hand into the azure blue eyes of his
guide.  The can Blair was holding was already opened, and even
from this distance, Jim could easy smell the familiar mixture of
barley and hops on the younger man’s breath.  Blair was looking
at him with that infamous puppy dog expression, the one that
could melt petty dictators into sniveling lumps of jelly.  Those
deep pools of blue were mesmerizing, like a vortex that caught
and captured everything in its immediate vicinity.  Jim was lost,
and he knew it.

	With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Jim cracked open the
can and took a hesitant sip.  No matter what brand, drinking beer
out of a can was always an unpleasant prospect for a sentinel. 
With his powerful sense of taste, the aluminum taste of the can
itself invariably contaminated the crisp flavor of the beverage.  

	Knowing the cause of Jim’s displeasure, Blair hastily
offered an apology as well as an explanation.  “Sorry about that,
but it’s a generally accepted rule that nobody brings bottles on the
river.  The glass is too dangerous.”

	Nodding in agreement, they approached the stack of
inner-tubes.  One of the students, Corbett, looked up at their
approach.  “You weren’t kiddin’ when you said he was a big guy,
were you, Dr. S?”  For a moment, the sentinel worried that his
size and bulk would make it impossible for him to join the party
on the river.  However, Corbett put his mind at ease with his next
comment.  “Don’t you worry none, we found another tube like
Jessie’s.  Jessie, the other male student, was even taller and
broader than Simon Banks.  If Jessie could fit into the tube, then
it wouldn’t be a problem for the sentinel.

	Tubes were handed out by Corbett’s girlfriend, Katie Lee
-- earlier, Jim had found small amusement in the fact that many
girls in the South seemed to have two names, the middle one
either ‘Sue’ or  ‘Lee.’   Jim was surprised to find the tube he’d
been given had a circular piece of wood in the middle held in
place by industrial twine.

	“Don’t mind that,” Katie Lee reassured.  Her accent was
the most Southern by far.  Jim would later learn that she hailed
from a little town in Kentucky, where speech was even slower
and more drawn out than here in Virginia.  “Big guys like you and
Jessie tend to drag along the bottom in the shaller patches ‘a
river.  It’d be a real shame if somethin’ happened ta that nice butt
of yers...”  

	“Hey!”  The word of warning came from both Blair and
Corbett, but it was the former who added, “don’t embarrass him
this early in the afternoon.”

	‘Good save, Chief,’ Jim thought in amusement as he
flashed a knowing grin at his lover.  It had been Blair’s choice not
to come out on campus, but many slips like the one he’d just
made would eliminate the option of remaining in the closet.

	“So where are we headed today?” Sabra asked to nobody
in particular.

	“Well, we thought we’d just head on downstream, maybe
break at Juniper Lake, then put out at Jenny Sue’s.  My car’s
down there so’as I can run y’all back here later,” Corbett replied.

	“How far downstream are we going?” Jim inquired.

	“Well the lake is about a mile yonder, then another
half-mile to Jenny’s.”

	Before the younger man even finished his sentence, a
choking  sound escaped the sentinel’s throat.   On any other day,
Jim wouldn’t have even noticed the remark, but after the horrors
he’d faced in the course of the past six weeks, the absurdity just
struck him the wrong, or maybe the right, way.  He needed the
release of this spontaneous laughter.  It had been so long since
he’d found humor in anything, the intensity of his outburst was
actually making the muscles of his abdomen ache. 

	The other students, Corbett in particular, were all staring
at him with odd looks, wondering what they’d missed.  After a
moment, Blair realized what was amusing his sentinel so much
and began grinning himself.  Taking pity on his students, he let
them in on the joke, since Jim was now laughing too hard to
speak for himself. 

	“I think that’s the first time Jim’s ever heard the word
‘yonder’ actively used in an actual conversation,” the young
professor grinned.

	Even in spite of his laughter, Jim worried momentarily
that he might have offended some of the born-and-bred
Southerners in his company.  The fear faded as one by one, grins
broke out on all the gathered faces.  Corbett half-heartedly
muttered something about ‘city-boys’ under his breath.

	“You’re such a redneck, Corbett,”  Jessie chided amidst
his chuckles.

	“Hello?  Pot...kettle...black,” Sabra retorted, widening the
smiles on all their faces.   	

	Once they settled down, everybody gathered their things
and headed towards the water’s edge.  A wide, wooden stairway
led down to the river, but the students ignored it, instead
choosing to jump straight from the wall set into the deeper water. 
As each person hit the waist-deep water, they gave shouts and
yells that left Jim wincing at the volume.   Blair looked over in
concern, but the sentinel dismissed his guide with a barely
perceivable shake of his head.

	Eventually Blair, Jim, and Jenny Sue were the only ones
left standing on the bank along with their inner-tubes and two
coolers.  The sentinel gave a hand by lowering the Igloo’s down
to waiting hands, where they were carefully strapped to extra
tubes.  Those tubes were then tethered to Jessie and Corbett’s
floats.  Shaking his head at the student’s ingenuity, Jim lamented
that these kids could probably find a solution to global warming if
they ever put as much thought into studying as they did to
recreation.

	Jenny Sue and Blair’s entry into the river at the same time
dragged the sentinel out of his thoughts.  Finally it was Jim’s turn.

	As soon as the sentinel’s lower body hit the water, he
sucked in a harsh gasp of surprise.   Cold water never really
bothered him, that is, when he was prepared for it.  However,
given the warm temperature of the July afternoon, he wasn’t
ready for the chill of the mountain stream, especially where it
came into contact with his genitals.  As the sensation
overwhelmed him, Jim felt the edges of reality start to gray,
fading into the oblivion of a fierce zone-out.

	“Jim, come back, man.  It’s okay, hear my voice...”  

	The comforting, soothing sound of Blair’s voice brought
him back.  For an instant, he wondered why his guide’s volume
was so low, but then he recalled that they were surrounded by
curious college students.  He needn’t have worried, though, as
Sabra was doing her best to distract her classmates; realizing and
understanding just what was going on with Jim’s senses.

	“You okay, Jim?” Blair asked softly as he waded over to
the older man’s side.

	“You could have warned me, Chief,” Jim chastised.  “I
think my testicles crawled up far enough to be considered
ovaries.”

	Laughing outright, the guide just shook his head.  “Sorry
‘bout that, but there just isn’t an adequate way to warn somebody
about it.  Best thing to do is just let ‘em jump right in.”  Ignoring
Jim’s scowl, Blair first flipped the rubber tube to get it wet.  He
then positioned it directly behind himself.  Crouching downward
to gain enough momentum, he leapt upwards and back, expertly
landing in the hollow center of the inner-tube.

	Handing Blair his beer, Jim did his best to copy the
younger man’s movements, but nevertheless missed on his first
try and ended up losing his balance.  The warning glance he shot
at his lover was unnecessary.  Obviously, Blair had done the same
thing in the past, as he offered the older man some advice.  “Hold
onto the tube with both hands to keep it steady.  That’s it.  See? 
Not so bad.  Just use your arms to paddle with, like rowing a
boat.”

	Jim was the last of the group to get settled, and at Blair’s
urging, the sentinel and guide paddled themselves ahead of the
others.  The younger man explained that given Jim’s size and
weight, his tube would move slower than those of the lighter
students, so they might as well get a head start.  With that
accomplished, the group was on its way.

	An incredible feeling of laziness overtook the sentinel as
they floated along the river.  It took about five minutes for him to
orient himself, to pick up the coordination to navigate the water’s
surface.  At the students' urging, he avoided the shallower banks
and overhead trees where water moccasins and other unfriendly
snakes liked to lurk.   Although his feet, ass, and arms were numb
from the chilly water, turning down his sense of touch made the
uncomfortable sensation less noticeable.  He wondered how Blair,
who was always so sensitive to the cold, was managing; but the
younger man did not seem to display any discomfort.

	From time to time, the group encountered rougher
stretches of the river.  While nowhere near whitewater conditions,
the mini-rapids were still tricky to negotiate without getting either
soaked or banged up against the larger boulders that randomly
broke through the water’s surface.  At one point, they crossed a
small waterfall, no more than three feet in height, but it was
enough to cause an adrenaline rush in each and every one of
them.

	Jim joined in the conversation from time to time, ignoring
Corbett and Jenny’s debate over who was the best NASCAR
driver on the circuit, but comparing army horror stories with
Jessie, who’d just gotten out after a four year tour in the infantry.

	All of the students were a little shocked when they first
learned that Jim was a police detective.  Yet, they listened with a
combination of both humor and awe when Sabra convinced the
sentinel and guide to share a few details on some of their more
outrageous cases.  Judging by the admiration in their eyes, they
had no idea of their professor’s ‘other’ job back in Cascade. 

	Beers were tossed back and forth, the empty cans
carefully collected back into the coolers for later disposal.  
Between the alcohol and the warming rays of the sun, Jim found
himself growing sleepy despite the solid two days of rest he’d just
had.  Ever in tune with the needs of his sentinel, Blair maneuvered
himself alongside Jim’s inner-tube.  Reaching out a hand, the
younger man grabbed a hold of the rubber surface, his arm
providing a make-shift tether between the two rafts.

	“Why don’t you try and get some rest.  It’s a calm stretch
for the next half-hour or so, and I’ll wake you if anything comes
up,” his guide suggested.

	With a sleepy nod, Jim closed his eyes and relaxed into a
light doze.  Not quite asleep, he heard every word perfectly when
Corbett asked if Jim was alright.

	“Yeah,” Blair all but sighed.  “He just finished up a real
nasty case.  Thirteen children between the ages of eight and
eleven murdered in a little more than a month.”

	Curses varying between ‘Oh my God’ and ‘holy shit’ were
uttered by several of the students, all of them speaking in a
hushed tone in reaction to the horrific nature of the crime.  Even
with his eyes closed, Jim could feel the stares as the students
realized just how tough his job could be.   As with so many kids,
they only thought of cops as ‘the people out to get them’;  for
speeding, drinking, or partying a little too hard.  Cops were
authority figures; the law, ‘the man,’ something to be either
avoided or ridiculed from a safe distance.  Maybe now they
would see the flip side of the job, the serve and protect aspect,
rather than the harass and annoy angle they had previously
associated with law enforcement.

	Silence descended over the group for a time, at least until
Blair dispelled the air of discomfort with a few of his tribal lore
stories.  With the melodic sound of his guide’s voice crooning in
the background, Jim fell into a light doze.

**********************

	An indeterminate time later Blair woke Jim with the
explanation that they had reached the lake.  The flow between the
two bodies of water was controlled by a small dam, which the
students referred to erroneously as ‘the lock.’  The obstruction
made it necessary for all of them to exit the water and hike down
a dirt trail for about a hundred yards.  With their tubes slung over
their shoulders, Jim and Blair both grabbed one of the handles on
the larger cooler and carried it between them. 

	The path ended abruptly at a ledge of cliffs about twenty
feet above the water line of the lake.  Another trail provided
easier access to the surface, and the girls threw their tubes into
the water below before carrying the coolers down safely.   The
guys being guys, Jessie and Corbett both tossed down their tubes
and retreated back down the path they arrived on initially. 
Breaking into a run, the two students jumped over the cliff and hit
the water cannonball-style.

	Smiling at their antics, Jim turned to Blair and found the
younger man staring at him with a cocked eyebrow.  Seeing the
challenge, the sentinel matched his guide’s grin with one of his
own.  Without so much as a word of warning, he pivoted sharply
on his heal and ran back up the trail with Blair only a few steps
behind.  By mutual consent, they both turned and reversed their
course, laughing as they rushed forward to the edge of the cliff.

	There’s always a moment when one jumps from a great
height, just a fraction of a second where the body feels totally
weightless.  It’s an exhilarating feeling, like being at the top of the
world and master of all that can be surveyed.  It’s almost like
flying, however brief it lasts...

	...at least until gravity kicks in and the body falls like
Wiley E. Coyote in a Roadrunner cartoon.

	Perhaps that was why Jim and Blair were still smiling as
they impacted with the water’s surface.   Opening his eyes
underwater, the sentinel was more than a little surprised to see
just how deep the lake was.  Scrambling upwards, Jim broke the
surface only a moment before his lover.  As blue eyes sought out
and found blue eyes, the two men shared a smile that spoke of
happiness, contentment, and above all else, love.	

	A honey-rich voice broke into their wordless exchange. 
“Y’all hungry?  We’ve got tuna or chicken salad.” 

	Swimming over to the shoreline, sentinel and guide joined
the others for sandwiches and, once the beer ran out, sodas. 
Conversation flowed freely around mouthfuls of food.  Since the
placid lake had virtually no current, the inner-tubes were left right
where they floated in the water.  

	“I don’t get it, Chief.  This water’s warmer than bath
water.”  Jim asked the question as they collectively headed back
into the lake.

	“Actually, this is a reservoir.   The water stays warm since
the dam is used for electricity.  It’s man-made, which is why it’s
so deep.”  Blair explained.

	Getting back into the inner-tubes was more difficult, as
the deep water made it impossible to brace oneself and jump.  
Jim watched as the other executed a complicated maneuver of
flipping the tubes on their sides and dragging them down into the
water before easing back into them.  It took a couple of tries
before he managed it, but eventually he was once again resting in
the center of the float.

	They spent about an hour at the lake, alternating between
swimming, jumping off the cliff, and just plain lazing about in the
tubes.   Checking the time, they headed back to the path that led
to the colder water of the river.  Along the way, Jim noted that
they were all a little sunburned, but only on the front side of their
bodies.  Grumbling about uneven tans, Blair wordlessly produced
the bottle of sunscreen from one of the coolers.  

	“You’d better do your back, too.  Or maybe you’d like
some help with it?” Blair tempted in a sentinel-soft tone.  Jim
glared, knowing that Blair’s offer would have to be refused in
light of the students around them.  A hiss escaped his lips as he
applied the freezing cold lotion to his chest, it’s temperature made
chilly by the ice in the cooler it had been stored in for the trip.

	Warmed by the sun and heated lake water, the river
seemed even colder when they entered it this time.  Jim was a
little shocked when he observed that everyone, Blair included,
was resting on their bellies rather than settling their butts into the
center of the tubes.  So this was how they managed to keep their
suntans relatively even.

	The trip to Jenny Sue’s was short, less than thirty minutes. 
Her apartment complex was situated on the other side of the rural
road that paralleled the river.  Some enterprising student had
fastened a thick rope two trees on each side of the river’s banks. 
Exiting the water was made easy by just reaching up for the rope
and shimmying hand over hand to the bank.

	Towels were handed out, but most preferred to lay-out,
allowing the sun to evaporate the excess water from their bodies. 
One by one, they all sank onto the ground, resting on their
stomachs to sun their backs.  Jenny handed out sodas to quench
thirsts caused by the heat of the late afternoon.

	Not too much later, Corbett offered to take them back to
collect Blair’s car.  Plans were made for an impromptu bar-b-que
at Sabra’s after everyone had the chance to go home and clean up
a little.  The inner-tubes and coolers were left at Jenny Sue’s as
they piled into Corbett’s Chevy Blazer for the trip.  
		
	On the way, Jim turned to his lover, smiling his thanks for
a most enjoyable afternoon.  Blair returned the grin, but said
nothing.

	It was one of those times when words were simply
unnecessary.

*******************************

	The warm, rich sound of Blair’s laughter echoed behind
him as Jim made a beeline for the shower.   River water wasn’t
exactly the purest form of H2O, and with his sentinel sense of
touch, the older man could feel each particle of the grimy layer of
sediment that covered his body.  Not overly fond of the sensation,
Jim wanted nothing more than to wash his body free of it.

	“You coming, Chief?” he asked his guide, a hand
extended in invitation.

	“Not yet,” Blair wise-cracked, “but give me a few
minutes.”  A saucy grin accompanied the suggestive remark.

	“Smart ass.”

	“Yeah, but it’s so cute.”  

	“And it’s all mine.”  

	Jim’s possessive words triggered the response he’d been
hoping for when he said them.   The sentinel was tickled by an
initial wave of pheromones, the first sign of Blair’s growing level
of arousal.  Looking deeply into those shockingly bright blue
eyes, he saw the first hint of dilation in the dark pupils.

	Unfortunately, Jim’s need for cleanliness was actively at
war with his hormones.  Breaking the intense eye contact
between them, Jim reached in to turn on the shower.  Blair was in
the process of stripping off his sandals and swimming trunks, the
latter revealing a cock that was just beginning to show signs of
interest.

	Knowing that he was the sole focus of his sentinel’s
attention, Blair made something as simple as moving into the
shower an act of foreplay.  There was a small sway to his hips as
he stepped into the tub, pausing for just a moment to remove the
band that held his hair back in a ponytail.   With an easy grace, he
shook the matted curls out and deftly stepped into the warm
spray, his back to the wall to give Jim a better view.

	As the water cascaded from his hair down the full length
of his body, Blair placed his hands on his stomach, palms flat
against the muscles of his abdomen.  Closing his eyes, he threw
his head back in abandon as his hands began a slow, sensual
journey upwards, teasing the flesh and hair underneath as they
moved.   Approaching the area around his nipples, Blair’s hands
first slowed, then stopped to play with sensitive nubs.   Jim
watched in fascination as the slightly rounded buds tightened to
sharp points under the teasing stimulation.  The infamous
nipple-ring was conspicuously absent, but it did not stop Blair
from pinching and gently pulling at pebble-hard flesh until he
groaned from his self-induced pleasure.

	The hands moved onward much too soon for Jim’s liking. 
As the fingers skimmed over collar-bones and then along the
graceful expanse of neck, Blair slowly righted his neck.   Sapphire
blue eyes met Jim’s own as his lover’s fingers dug into the long,
wet strands of hair.  After a moment’s pause, the sentinel reached
for the bottle of shampoo on the ledge of the tub, squeezing a
generous portion into the younger man’s waiting hand.  

	Blair worked the shampoo into a lather with the same
sensuousness that he’d shown to his own flesh only moments
earlier.  As the soap bubbled into foam, it released that all-too
familiar scent that Jim had grown to love so much.  With his
breath now just shy of panting and an erection that threatened to
burst through the confining swimming trunks he was still wearing,
the sentinel was tempted to become an active participant in his
guide’s shower.   

	Tempted, but not compelled.

	No, he chose to remain where he was instead, watching to
see what his lover would do next.  After the last of the shampoo
was circling around the drain, Blair smoothed in conditioner,
leaving it set while he tended to other parts of his body.

	Ignoring the washcloth draped over the towel bar, the
younger man once again silently requested Jim’s assistance with
an outstretched hand.  Jim willingly obliged, watching with keen
interest as Blair started at his neck and worked his way down his
body with his soapy bare hands.  Surprisingly, other than a few
slow pulls along his rampant erection which dragged moans from
both men, Blair finished washing himself without any further
teasing to himself or, by extension, to Jim.

	Thoroughly cleansed, Blair left the water running as he
stepped from the tub into the large, fluffy bath towel Jim held for
him.   Drying the younger man off became a game of sorts, both
men stretching and contorting in an effort to wipe away the stray
beads of water without breaking the deep kisses they were
sharing.  When Blair overextended himself and stumbled, Jim felt
rather than saw the smile on his lover’s lips as he secured the
smaller body more firmly against his own larger form.

	With a final, parting kiss; Blair surprised the hell out of
Jim.  “Go shower.”  The sentinel’s face must have expressed the
shock he was feeling.  “Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting for you,” his
guide reassured.

	It was the quickest shower of Jim’s life.

*****************************

	Emerging with a towel around his waist, Jim sucked it a
sharp breath at the picture before him.  Blair was sprawled across
his queen-size mattress, his head and upper body supported by
two large decorative pillows.   With one elegant hand, the
younger man was carefully pinching a nipple, teasing it into full
pebble-like hardness.   His other hand was as equally occupied,
maintaining a gentle stroking of his blood-engorged cock.

	Jim couldn’t recall another time his lover looked sexier.

	“Would you prefer to watch?” Blair asked in all
seriousness.  

	One dark eyebrow rose in response to the suggestion. 
The sincerity in Blair’s question was unmistakable.   If the
sentinel chose solely to observe, his guide would happily oblige. 
Jim’s surprise was caused by the fact that, despite all the various
ways they’d made love, voyeurism was not on the list.  Yet,
anyway.  The idea, however, was mentally filed for future
reference.

	“Maybe another time.” Jim gave his reply as he stalked
forward, unwittingly resembling the black jungle cat that was his
spirit guide.   Watching Blair pleasure himself was a tempting
thought, but it was one that would wait for another occasion.   At
that moment, Jim’s need to be a willing participant was too great
to ignore.

	Like a diver smoothly entering the water, the sentinel slid
up Blair’s body until they were face to face.   Lips met lips as
erection pressed against erection, pulling moans of anticipation
from both men.  Their tongues danced and swirled together,
caressing each other in an erotic dance.  Bodies were likewise
following suit, Blair somehow managing to squirm sensually
against the larger body bearing down on him.

	Yet even in this most delicious situation, the sentinel
found his attention wandering away from his lover.

	In almost all of his sexual encounters with Blair, Jim
found himself training all of his acute senses on the younger man. 
The effect was similar to a slight zone out, only instead of
narrowing one particular sense to focus on something specific;
the sentinel found himself overwhelmed by all five of his enhanced
senses reporting and recording each and every response of his
guide.  Unlike any of his other zone outs, these were in no way
threatening.  Instead, it was almost as if his extreme sensitivity to
Sandburg allowed him to raise the intensity and pleasure found in
their lovemaking to new heights, for both himself and for Blair.
	 
	This special sensitivity was something Jim had never
before experienced with any of his other lovers, including his
ex-wife, Carolyn.  Personally, he speculated that it had something
to do with the sentinel/guide relationship that he shared with the
younger man.  Whatever the cause, the only thing that really
mattered to him was that thing between Blair and himself worked
without fail.

	Until now.

	As soon as Jim realized something was amiss, he froze for
a short instant.  Despite his best efforts to continue what they’d
started, the ever-observant guide noticed his sentinel’s brief
hesitation.  Squeezing a hand between their bodies, Blair placed it
on Jim’s bare chest and pushed slightly.  

	Drawing away at Blair’s request, Jim pulled back slightly,
just enough to enable him to see the younger man’s face clearly. 
As he stared into the smoky, expressive eyes of his lover, the
sentinel read Blair’s thoughts as easily as he read the morning
paper.  Concern, worry, and a touch of love all mixed together
silently; asking unspoken questions while seeking answers from a
pair of pale blue eyes and a twitching jaw muscle.  

	The seconds passed by slowly as the necessary
information was exchanged by the intense look the two men
shared.   There was simply nobody else in the world Jim would
bare his soul to like he now did with Blair.  All of the insecurities,
the uncertainties, guilt, remorse, and doubt that he kept hidden
under his normal iron mask of stoicism were exposed for his
guide to see, leaving the sentinel feeling more vulnerable than he
could ever remember.

	Blair’s expression was one of pure shock.  It took him a
moment to comprehend what he was seeing.  For the first time in
all their years of friendship, Jim was completely unguarded,
offering Blair a level of emotional trust the younger man never
thought Jim would have been capable of granting to anyone, let
alone Blair.   Instinctively, the guide recognized the significance
of Jim’s gesture, and as a result he treated it with the reverence it
deserved.

	Neither man moved throughout the exchange.  The sultry,
teasing air of their foreplay in the shower evaporated in the face
of such  an overwhelmingly emotional need.  Blair, however, saw
this as an opportunity.

	“Let me love you, Jim,” Blair whispered tenderly as he
gently urged his lover to roll over, reversing their positions.  “Let
me help you put the pieces back together.”  The words were
accompanied by soft, resilient hands that smoothed the tense flesh
of Jim’s bared chest.  “You showed me how much you’re hurting
inside, Jim,” Blair coaxed as he added more pressure to his
strokes against the warm flesh underneath his hands.  “Let me
help to heal you.  Will you let me do that, Jim?”

	The sentinel was unable to do anything else but nod his
assent to Blair’s request.  As the strong, nimble hands carefully
worked weeks of pent up tension from Jim’s muscles, the sentinel
closed his eyes in sheer bliss.  Throughout it all, Blair’s reassuring
litany of words continued.

	“You take it all inside yourself, you know?  You protect
everybody else, but in order to do it, you put up walls to protect
yourself.”  Shifting slightly, the smaller man’s hands moved from
Jim’s waist to his upper thighs where they continued their magic. 
“You let so few people close to you, Jim.  Even the friends you
do let past your outer boundaries, you still keep them from
getting all the way inside.”

	Like a snowplow clearing a street, Blair’s hands worked
to sweep away the residual tension in Jim’s legs.  With calming,
yet determined, strokes, he drove it downwards, leaving behind
relaxed, if not sensitized flesh in his wake.  And as Blair’s hands
released the tension in Jim’s body, his words likewise worked to
sooth the sentinel’s aching psyche.

	“I guess in a way, I always knew that you cared about me. 
‘My Blessed Protector.’  But it was always more than that,
wasn’t it?”  It was a good thing that the question was rhetorical,
as Jim couldn’t have found the words to answer it even if he’d
tried.   

	Finishing with the larger man’s feet, one of Blair’s hands
relocated to Jim’s groin, his fingers finding the semi-erect flesh
that awaited them there.   Being more therapeutic than titillating,
the sentinel’s erection had diminished during the course of the
massage.  Now, under Blair’s urging strokes, the fire within the
older man once again began to grow.  He was vaguely aware that
Blair was doing something else besides touching him, but Jim was
too content to open his eyes to investigate.

	“You gave me so much, Jim.” Blair continued.  “You let
me study you, you let me live with you, you saved my life so
many times, you let me make my own mistakes knowing that you
would be there to help me when things went bad.  And then, you
gave me your love.”

	Like the tender words stroking his ears, Blair continued to
stroke his sentinel’s growing flesh.  Jim was moaning softly in
response to his guide’s inflaming touches, and it wasn’t long until
his hips began to unconsciously undulate in a silent request for
more contact with Blair’s soothing hand.   Lubricated by Jim’s
own pre-ejaculate, those elegant fingers slid up and down his
length, while an agile thumb gently traced the ridge that marked
the crown of his now-leaking cock.
	
	There was a slight dip in the mattress as Blair leaned
forward.  When his guide’s hot, moist tongue darted in for a
sweeping lick of soft, sensitive skin of his testicles, Jim’s hips
bucked off the bed sharply.  The thrusts took on a regular pattern
as Blair’s mouth retreated, but it remained close enough for Jim
to feel the warm exhalations as the younger man completed his
unfinished thoughts.

	“I saw the difference at Christmas, how you finally opened
yourself up to me and let yourself love.  But even, then I knew
you were still holding something back.”  There was tightness in
Blair’s voice that hadn’t been there before, but then again, Jim’s
moans were growing louder as Blair’s hand continually moved
faster and faster.  “But now you’ve let me in completely, haven’t
you?   I’ve seen it all, Jim; your self-doubt, the uncertainty that
you hide so well from the rest of the world.  And you know
what?”
	
	So lost was he in simply experiencing his lover’s touch,
the sentinel didn’t even notice Blair moving to straddle his waist,
nor did he realize that his erection was being positioned upwards. 
In fact, it took his mind a few critical moments to even process
that Blair’s last sentence was a question.  By then it was too late.

	“I love you even more for it.”

	As the words left Blair’s mouth, the smaller man sat
straight down on Jim’s cock, taking the entire length within him
in one smooth stroke.  Pale blue eyes shot open as a keening cry
of surprise escaped the sentinel’s mouth.  A look of discomfort
marred Blair’s beautiful face, but the only thing Jim noticed was
the radiant look of pure love in those expressive deep blue eyes.

	Neither man moved for a minute, one because of shock
and the other due to adjustment.  Despite Blair’s one-handed
self-preparation, the two lovers didn’t engage in this act often
enough to prevent the initial pain of penetration.  Beads of sweat
broke out all over the younger man’s body as he struggled to
willingly adjust to Jim’s length within him.

	As the seconds ticked by, the sentinel also began to
perspire.  It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep from
thrusting up into Blair’s hot, tight passage.   With his powerful
sense of touch, Jim felt every inch of connection between their
two bodies.  That knowledge alone was driving him to the edge
of sanity.

	After what seemed to be an eternity of waiting, Blair
rocked forward, pulling groans of ecstasy from both of them. 
With each thrust, his guide’s discomfort lessened, until Blair was
riding him with reckless abandon.  Throughout it all, their eyes
remain locked on each other.  Just as their bodies were engaged
in a physical union, they shared their emotions in a wordless
communion.

	Blair was riding Jim like a jockey on a thoroughbred,
raising himself up until only the tip of the larger man’s cock
remained inside him, only to plunge down until scrotum brushed
against scrotum.  Cords stood out on his neck from the strain and
his face was glowing red from exertion while their bodies slapped
together as thrust met thrust.  And still it wasn’t enough.  
	
	Loud panting filled the air as Blair brought his movements
to a sudden stop.  Jim, however, tried to keep going, bracing his
feet to gain the leverage needed to continue pounding into his
younger lover.  A forceful hand against his sweaty chest curtailed
the sentinel’s movements.

	Fighting to pull necessary air into his lungs, Blair leaned
forward so he could adjust his position.  Now instead of his shins
resting flat against the mattress on either side of Jim, he nearly
squatted over the other man’s groin.  With his feet planted firmly
on the bed and his hands resting against Jim’s chest for balance,
Blair once more eased downward onto the sentinel’s straining
cock.

	It was incredible for both of them.  This new position
allowed Blair to take Jim deeper in than he’d ever been able to
before.   Still, he knew that they needed to be careful not to get
too rough, lest he hurt himself.  With that in mind, Blair slid his
hands down to Jim’s waist in order to have more control over
Jim’s movements.  The slight pause in their activities had taken
the edge off for both of them, so Blair set out to regain the
ground they had lost.  Moving carefully, the younger man rocked
with slowly building speed.  
	
	As Blair’s eyes met his, Jim saw only one thing in them: 
trust.  With the miniscule portion of his brain still capable of
coherent thought, Jim realized that this was his guide’s way of
rewarding him for letting the younger man through the last of his
emotional barriers.  The significance of Blair’s actions shot
straight through the sentinel’s body like an electrical charge, one
that ended directly in his groin.

	Knowing that the end of this fantastic union was rapidly
approaching, Jim was determined that his guide find completion
first.  Bringing one hand down to stroke Blair’s bobbing cock, he
placed his other hand on Blair’s waist for guidance.  With a
minimal amount of urging, Jim helped his lover achieve an angle
where Blair’s prostate would repeatedly brush against the hard
cock impaling him.

	The dual sensations quickly became too much for the
younger man to take.  “Oh God...Jim...I’m gonna come...I’m
coming... COMING! ...JIM...JIM!”

	Hot, milky semen struck the sentinel’s chest as it arched
out of Blair’s cock in long bursts.  The rippling of contracting
muscles squeezed Jim’s probing flesh like a gloved hand,
snapping his iron control in an instant.  As his orgasm raced
through him, Jim drew out the pleasure with a series of short,
jabbing thrusts into his lover’s still-spasiming ass.  
	
	Once Jim’s cries of release died down, Blair slumped
forward onto his lover’s chest in an effort to relieve his straining
leg muscles.  The sentinel easily felt the post-orgasmic tremors
that still coursed through the younger man’s body, and wrapped
his own shaky arms around Blair’s back.  Muttering ‘shushing’
noises, he pressed a warm kiss into the juncture between his
guide’s neck and shoulder.

	“Oh God, Jim,” Blair began, still breathing heavily from
his exertions.  “That was incredible.”

	“Are you alright?”  Jim asked in all seriousness.

	“I’m better than al...”

	“What?  What’s wrong?” An air of panic crept into Jim’s
tone at his lover’s unfinished sentence.

	“Yuck!” Blair grimaced as he pulled away from the body
underneath his.  

	It was only then that Jim saw the pearly drops of Blair’s
spilled semen clinging to the thick mat of hair on the younger
man’s chest.  He would have laughed at his lover’s predicament if
he hadn’t been in the same situation.  They would need  yet
*another* shower, but it was well worth it for each of them to
see the love shining in the other’s eyes. 

*****************************

	The bar-b-que was already underway by the time Blair
and Jim arrived.   Some enterprising student had moved a set of
stereo speakers outside so that the Caribbean/Country sound of
Jimmy Buffett underscored the hum of conversation generated by
those gathered.   There were nearly twenty people milling around
the cinder-block pit-style grill shared by the tenants of Sabra’s
apartment building.  As they approached the group, Jim suddenly
began choking.

	“Lighter fluid,” the sentinel gasped out to his guide in
between coughs.  A reassuring touch on his arm helped Jim to
hold it together long enough to dial down his sense of smell. 
“Thanks, Chief,” Jim smiled warmly once he managed to regain
control.

	“Got you too, huh?” Sabra chuckled.  Neither Jim nor
Blair had noticed the student walking up behind them.

	“Yeah.  That was stupid, I should have seen it coming,”
Jim declared, his voice tinged with self-disgust.

	“Well, don’t feel bad.  It surprised the hell out of me,
too.”   Turning to her professor, Sabra made a suggestion.  “Why
don’t you take the food over to the grill?  Just give it to Corbett
and let him know how you want it cooked.  C’mon, Jim.  You
can put your beer in the fridge up at my place.”

	With a nod of agreement, and a private smile for his lover,
Blair headed over to meet and greet the various students hanging
around.  Unconsciously, Jim’s eyes feasted upon his lover’s
retreating denim-encased  bottom.  ‘Nobody’s ass should look
that good,’ he thought with a sigh.
	
	The sound of a throat clearing in amusement startled the
hell out of the detective.   A flush of embarrassment crept along
Jim’s normally stoic features; a reaction that had Sabra laughing
outright.

	“Busted!” She crowed in delight.  

	However, Jim failed to see any humor in the situation.  He
wasn’t quite sure what upset him more:  that he was so obvious
regarding his feelings for Blair, or that Sabra already seemed to
have figured it out for herself.  Despite his inner resolve to mask
his feelings of annoyance, Jim was unable to keep his facial
expression completely neutral.  One look at the unhappy sentinel
was enough to strike fear into Sabra’s heart.  

	“Jim?” she asked hesitantly.  “I’m sor...”

	Seeing the young woman’s stricken expression, the
detective noted her rapidly accelerating heartbeat and realized he
was actually frightening the college student.  Upsetting the girl
was never his intention, and he found himself rapidly
backpedaling to apologize.

	“God, Sabra, I’m sorry.  It’s okay.”  Keeping track of her
vital signs, he calmly waited until they were back to a more
normal rhythm before asking the question that was forefront on
his mind.  “How did you know?”

	“Are you kidding?” She asked the question with an
incredulous expression.  “The way you two look at each other is a
dead giveaway.”

	This news was unsettling to the sentinel.  Ever since the
romantic aspect of their relationship had begun, both he and Blair
had taken extreme care to keep their burgeoning relationship
under wraps.  They were careful to maintain the appearance of
their earlier friendship -- only allowing themselves slight, casual
contact and absolutely no, as Blair termed it, ‘public displays of
affection.’

	“Besides, Detective,” Sabra emphasized the title with a
playful, sarcastic tone, “I may not be a full sentinel, but my sense
of smell is almost on par with yours.”

	As the implications of the young woman’s words sank in,
Jim stifled the groan that threatened to escape his lips.  How
could he, Cascade’s officer of the year, have been so totally
clueless?  He knew better than anyone just how long the scent of
sex clung to a person, even after a thorough shower.   In the
years before they became a couple, Jim could always tell whether
or not Blair ‘got lucky’ when he went out on dates.  The younger
man was almost always careful to shower before he returned
home, either out of deference to Jim’s senses or simply out of
personal habit.  At the time, it wasn’t as if Jim particularly cared
one way or the other.  It was simply like any other low-level
stimulus to his senses; a brief flash of awareness, a fraction of a
second of analysis, then dismissal as unnecessary and unneeded
information.  

	Somewhere along the line, Jim forgot that Sabra had
abilities that were almost equal to his.  She had analyzed the
information and reached her own conclusions.  The question now
became:  what was she going to do  with the information? 
Neither Blair nor Jim was ready to ‘come out’ about their
relationship for myriad reasons, most of which concerned both of
their careers.  Sabra’s grandfather was the Chancellor of EVC. 
While the school’s policies were liberal, Jim was well aware of
the fact that there were too many bigots out there that could
make Blair’s working environment a living hell without breaking
any laws or university policies.  Or, even worse, they could
decide that the law didn’t apply when it came to a person
involved in a same-sex relationship.  Unfortunately, gay-bashing
still occurred in almost every city in the country.  

	The very thought of his guide in such a situation made
Jim’s blood run cold as the flash of fear triggered an adrenaline
rush.  Jerking his gaze to the young woman before him, the
sentinel trained all of his senses on her to gauge what her
intentions really were.  As his pale blue eye sought out her brown
ones, Jim searched for the truth he hoped to find there.

	“Jim?” Sabra asked cautiously.  His gaze was penetrating,
leaving her feeling like an insect pinned to a wall.  

	The sentinel regarded the subject he was studying with
great care, judging her thoughts by her facial expressions.  Fear,
worry, and concern all made brief appearances until finally,
understanding became clearly evident.  A small smile graced
Sabra’s lips before she began to speak.

	“I’m sorry if I spooked you there.  I didn’t know it was
*that* big of a secret,” she explained calmly.  “I mean, I’ve
suspected it for the past few months.”
	
	“How?”

	“I...well, lots of little things, I guess.  Like I said, just the
way y’all look at each other sometimes.   And the way you two
are so comfortable with one another.  The number of times you
call Blair’s office during the week.  But the biggest tip-off was
the way Blair reacts whenever you call.  Even if he’s
super-stressed or in a rotten mood, it just evaporates the minute I
tell him that you’re on the phone for him.  Sometimes I can
actually hear his heart rate drop as soon as he hears your voice.”

	There was a pause as Jim digested the information.  “Oh. 
I’m sorry I jumped to concl...”

	Sabra’s hand shot out in a gesture of placation.  “Don’t
worry, y’all’s secret is safe with me.  Unfortunately, there are all
too many rednecks around here...”  she trailed off, not wanting to
even finish the thought.  “Anyway, I just want to say that I think
you two make a great couple.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a
relationship as...perfect as y’all’s.”

	A wry chuckle escaped the sentinel.  “Well, it sure as hell
isn’t always wine and roses.”

	“I can imagine.  You guys are just so...different from each
other.  Guess that old ‘opposites attract’ thing must be true.”

	“Maybe so,” Jim agreed.

	The sound of a door shutting caught both of their
attentions.  Together, the pair watched as Blair made his way
back towards them.  “Just one thing, Detective.  If y’all are
planning on keeping your relationship a secret for a while longer,
you might want to consider being more discrete before you
visually molest Dr. Sandburg’s ass.”

	Laughing at Jim’s shocked reaction, Sabra danced out of
the way before the sentinel’s playful swat could reach her.

***********************************
	
	As the evening wore on, word of the party spread rapidly
through the small college community.   More and more cars
appeared, lining both sides of the two-lane road that passed in
front of Sabra’s apartment building.  Although most people
brought their own beverages in brightly decorated coolers, a
collection was eventually taken.  Two kids were dispatched into
town to fetch a keg of beer.   All those who contributed were
given blue disposable cups to identify themselves to the
‘keg-master.’

	While the party was boisterous, Jim was taken aback by
the underlying calmness of it.  There were no fist-fights, no
screaming arguments over ‘you hit on my girlfriend’ or other such
nonsense.  Instead, all the sentinel saw was a bunch of kids having
a good time talking, drinking, and dancing.  

	Even so, all the underage alcohol consumption bothered
the cop in him, even after he spied a local sheriff wave to the
crowd from his car as he drove by the complex.   EVC was trying
an experimental program over the summer session.   The college
hired students to work from 10 pm to 4 am as designated drivers.  
The drivers could easily be reached by a pager the school
provided for them, and for a single dollar, the DD would take
intoxicated party-goers anywhere within a two mile radius of the
campus.  Blair had been instrumental in sponsoring the program,
modeling it after a similar service provided at his old college,
Rainier.

	Throughout the night, Blair stood alongside his lover,
introducing the older man to students and a handful of other
younger faculty members who stopped by to say hello.  If any of
the students found it odd that some of their instructors were
present, they refrained from comment on the matter.  According
to Blair, such occurrences were par for the course during summer
session since there was little else to do in the quiet community.

	Never a fan of country music, Jim grimaced whenever the
‘twang’ of such a song was played on the stereo.   Blair noticed
his lover’s reaction, but gave no comment other than a
sympathetic shrug.   The sentinel, however, doubted his guide’s
sincerity when the younger man gave into Sabra’s urging and
joined a large group for a line dance.  One sharp look from Jim
was all it took to convince her not to try her powers of
persuasion on him as well.

	From the edge of the patch of grass that had been
converted to a ‘dance floor’,  Jim watched Blair laugh as he
tripped over his own feet.  With all the bravado and enthusiasm
he’d come to expect from his guide, Blair refused to be
discouraged by his sudden lack of coordination.  Instead, the
younger man waited a single count before jumping back into the
motions, adding a sexy little sway of his hips to differentiate
himself and make the dance his own.

	As fast as one can turn off a light switch, Jim’s relaxed
happiness drained away leaving him in the cold grip of guilt. 
Depression settled over the sentinel like a shroud, surrounding
and embracing him so tightly, his insides began to knot to the
point of nausea.   Concentrating on not losing his dinner, Jim lost
awareness of the people and party around him.

	“Jim?  JIM!  Listen to the sound of my voice...” Blair’s
soothing tone insisted.

	“I..I’m here, Chief.”  The detective’s voice sounded rusty,
as though it hadn’t been used for a while.

	“What’s wrong?”

	“I...” Jim’s eyes closed as he gathered his strength to
explain.  “I was just thinking of those kids.”  There was a pause
before he continued.  “They...they’re never gonna know this,
Blair.  They’ll never get the chance to experience this.  I see all
these kids out here...laughing, having a good time, and all I keep
thinking is that those thirteen children will never know this ‘cause
I let them down.  Protecting them was my job, my...duty, and...”

	“Oh Jim.”  The sadness and compassion in Blair’s tone
was heartbreaking.  Without conscious thought, the younger man
stepped forward to wrap his sentinel in a much-needed hug, only
to be stopped by Jim’s outstretched hand.   Whether Jim
prevented the move out of awareness of their surroundings or a
desire for emotional distance would forever remain a mystery to
both of them.  The simple rejection had an effect on Blair,
however.   Thwarted by Jim’s refusal, the guide settled for
placing a comforting hand on his sentinel’s arm.  

	“You’re forgetting something, though.”

	“What’s that, Chief?”  Jim inquired tiredly.

	“You’re forgetting kid fourteen, and kid fifteen, and kid
sixteen.” Blair’s tone was still gentle, but there was no mistaking
the conviction in it.  “What about the next kid that sadistic son of
a bitch would have taken?  In ten years, that kid is going to be at
a party somewhere, having the time of his life.  And why?  
Because of *you*, Jim.”

	Despite the words of reassurance, the older man would
not allow himself respite from his guilt.  Unable to cope with the
compassion he saw in his guide’s warm blue eyes, Jim’s gaze
dropped to his shoes.  Under his breath he mumbled a comment
about the uselessness of being a sentinel, let alone *the* Sentinel
of the Great City.

	“The word is ‘sentinel,’ Jim, not ‘god,’” Blair insisted
vehemently.   

	That his lover heard Jim’s quiet remark over the music
and constant thrum of the partygoers surprised the older man. 
“Maybe we should get your hearing tested, Chief.  Either these
sentinel abilities of mine have rubbed off on you or your sense of
hearing just kicked into overdrive.”

	For once, Blair refused to allow the conversation to be
dragged off on a tangent.  Instead, he smirked at the comment
before continuing his original line of thought.  “Jim, be realistic
here.  You *are* a sentinel and you do your best to protect your
tribe, but unlike the sentinels of the past, your tribe has over
100,000 members.  You’re a lot of things, Jim:  a strong sentinel,
a great detective, and God knows you’re a good human being. 
But you are *not* omnipotent, you can’t be everywhere.   All
you can do is your best.  If you do that, then you’re way ahead of
most of the people out there.”

	The words were accompanied by a firm clap to Jim’s
shoulder, reinforcing his guide’s adamancy on the subject.   One
look at the unwavering devotion in Blair’s deep blue eyes left the
sentinel knowing better than to argue with his lover.   Moments
passed by silently, as Jim thought about his guide’s words.  

	This time, though, words were not going to be enough.

	The conscience is a funny thing.  Sometimes, it’s
selective, carefully burying painful or traumatic memories until
the rest of the mind is prepared to deal with them.  But, on other
occasions, it can be a fickle.   In the past, Jim had been able to
separate himself from his pain, folding it away as neatly as he did
his clean laundry, until the case or crisis was over and done.  Not
this time, though.  The ghosts of those thirteen children wouldn’t
allow it.

	Blair, however, was looking expectantly at Jim.  The
sentinel knew that his guide firmly believed that this little ‘Jim is
absolved of all guilt’ speech would provide the basic blueprint for
healing his lover’s aching psyche.  As those eager, innocent eyes
stared at him, Jim made a quick decision.

	God, he hated trying to deceive Blair.  It felt so wrong,
so...unnatural.   Yet, it needed to be done.  This pain was his and
his alone.  Jim knew from experience that there were only two
things that would help to make the hurting stop:  time and love. 
With that in mind, the sentinel pasted what he hoped was a
believable thin smile on his face and aimed it at Blair.

	There was a suspicious edge to Blair’s expression, as if he
saw through Jim’s deception, yet the younger man wisely said
nothing.   After a moment or two, the look on his guide’s face
changed to one of longing.  When Jim recognized the yearning he
saw there, he gave Blair a genuine smile.

	“I know, Chief,” he whispered sadly.  As Jim lamented,
the sounds of a slow, romantic song drifted across the lawn.  

	“Damn, Jim.  If ever there was a time I wish we could
dance together...” Blair said softly.  

	“I know, Chief,” Jim sympathized as they watched
students pair off and head out to the dance area.

	Neither man noticed their hostess lurking only a few feet
behind where they were standing.  Not only did she notice them,
but her enhanced sense of hearing enabled her to listen in to their
entire conversation.  Leaving the picnic table she’d been busy
clearing off, Sabra headed into her apartment with a very
determined expression on her face.  After everything Blair had
done for her, she finally had a way to make a miniscule payment
on the debt she felt she owed him.

*******************************

	Fifteen minutes later, Sabra led the pair into her
apartment.  “It’s a surprise,” she smiled as she linked an arm
around each man’s waist.  “C’mon, it’s not gonna hurt,” she
teased as she directed them up the stairs of her townhouse.  

	“Right ‘dis vay,” the student teased with a horrible
impression of a French accent.  At the top of the steps, the young
student opened the door of her bedroom with an almost comical
flourish.  Jim and Blair’s quiet laughter at her antics stopped the
minute they walked through into the room.

	The room itself was pleasant enough; muted blond wood
furnishing embellished with curtains and walls in soft pastels that
wouldn’t irritate Sabra enhanced sense of vision.  The window
was closed and the shades were drawn, but instead of darkness,
the room was illuminated by dozens of burning candles.  The
effect was breathtaking.

	“Sabra?” Blair asked questioningly.

	“I...uh...happened to be walking by and I overheard your
comment about not being able to dance.”

	Jim’s sentinel abilities easily recognized the white lie, but
he made no motion to call the young woman on it.  In fact, he
found himself torn between being embarrassed that Sabra had
listen to their conversation and gratitude for her thoughtfulness. 
One look at the appreciation on Blair’s face was enough for Jim
to settle for gratitude.

	“Aaanyway,” Sabra drawled, “I put a cd in the player, just
hit the button when you’re ready.  I...um...the song kinda reminds
me of you guys, so I...uh...”

	“Thank you, Sabra.”  Blair said quietly, understanding her
hesitation.

	“Enjoy.”  With that simple word, the young student exited
room, locking the door on her way.

	Neither man moved for a few moments, uncertain as to
what to do next.  It wasn’t as if they’d never danced together
before, it just felt more...forced than it had any of the other
occasions.  Finally, it was Blair that broke the silence.

	“May I have this dance?” Blair asked softly.

	Nodding his assent, Jim waited until his lover found the
play button on the nearby boom box.  The sentinel almost
groaned when he heard the twang of the opening notes of a
country song.  Only Blair’s slight smile kept the older man from
changing his mind as the younger man slid his arms  around Jim’s
shoulders.	

//Our love is unconditional
We knew it from the start//

	As the lyrics reached his ears, Jim tightened his grip on
Blair’s waist, pulling the younger man even closer.   Azure blue
eyes slid closed in contentment as Blair’s head dropped forward
to rest on Jim’s right shoulder.  Without thought, the sentinel
leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek against his guide’s soft hair. 

//I see it in your eyes
You can feel it from my heart
From here on after
Let's stay the way we are right now
And share all the love and laughter
That a lifetime will allow//

	Placing a tender kiss against the long locks under his lips,
Jim tightened his hold.   With his sentinel’s sense of touch, he felt
the muscles of Blair’s face flex and knew his guide was smiling --
that small, gentle grin the younger man gifted him with in
response to any tender action the sentinel performed.  Although
he’d never admit it aloud, Jim would move heaven and hell to be
on the receiving end of one of those smiles.  Knowing that he had
coaxed one from his guide brought a grin of triumph to his own
face.

//I cross my heart
And promise to
Give all I've got to give
To make all your dreams come true
In all the world
You'll never find
A love as true as mine//

//You will always be the miracle
That makes my life complete//

	As the music continued, the two men swayed together in
small circles, until a sudden feeling of restlessness overcame the
older man.  Without thinking, Jim eased away from Blair,
continuing to hold the smaller form in his arms, but enough to put
some distance in between their bodies.  It took a moment for the
older man to find the courage to broach the subject he both
needed and dreaded discussing.

	“Jim?” Blair questioned quietly, “what is it?”

//And as long as there's a breath in me
I'll make yours just as sweet
As we look into the future
It's as far as we can see
So let's make each tomorrow
Be the best that it can be//
	
	“Blair, I...” the sentinel paused, not knowing how to
continue.  Concerned about Jim’s hesitancy, Blair moved a hand
to cup Jim’s cheek, forcing those sky blue eyes to meet his own. 
Seeing the steely determination there, the sentinel tried to force
himself to voice the thought that wouldn’t leave him alone.

	Instead of attempting to find the proper words for his
emotion, Jim decided to allow his actions to speak for him. 
Bringing one of his hands up from Blair’s waist, the sentinel
carefully cupped one of the younger man’s cheeks.  The
tenderness in the simple action set the stage for the gentle kiss
that Jim bestowed upon Blair’s full, pouting lips.   Instead of the
hungry, demanding kisses they’d shared earlier that afternoon,
this was more of sweet exchange.  It was no less passionate than
before, but for a man like Jim, someone who struggled to find the
right words, it was the most direct way to communicate the
overwhelming love he felt for his guide.

	“Chief...,” Jim began once they broke apart for some
much-needed air.
	
	“Sssh,” Blair hushed as he raised a finger and pressed it
against his lover’s slightly-swollen lips, effectively silencing the
older man.  

//And if along the way we find a day
It starts to storm
You've got the promise of my love
To keep you warm
In all the world
You'll never find
A love as true as mine//

	“That’s how I feel, Jim,” Blair said quietly as they listened
to the song ending.  “I love you more than anything,” he
whispered as he stroked the short, soft hair at the nape of Jim’s
neck.

//A love as true as mine//

	“And I love you, too, Chief” he reassured.

*************************************

	Four days later, it was a tanned, rested, and ready version
of Jim Ellison that emerged from the plane at Cascade
International Airport.  The sentinel spotted Simon’s tall form with
only a cursory glance at the crowd of friends and family waiting
for their loved ones to emerge from the fully booked airplane. 
Not in any particular hurry, Jim took his time walking over to the
Captain of the Major Crimes division.

	“Well,” Simon began with a smile, “it looks like the kid
finally followed one of my orders.  You look a hell of a lot better
than you did when you left, Jim.”

	“Well, Sir, there really wasn’t anywhere for me to go but
up,” Jim replied wryly.

	“I guess the kid hasn’t lost his touch when it comes to
taking care of you.” 

	Although Simon’s comment was made in total innocence,
the sentinel stifled a small chuckle.  “No, Sir.  He still has that
magic touch.”