Primal Urges

Part Two

Dusk brought the beginning of night-music on the breeze. Jim built the fire up again, then dug out his shaving kit and a small pan from his mess kit. Water heated by the fire was set out, and a small bowl with the wood ash in it, which Jim reassured Blair had antiseptic qualities, then the older man sat down in front of the younger and picked up the razor. A small, curved knife which he would use to make the mark sat waiting in another small bowl, soaking in hot, hot water.

"You ready, baby?" His eyes were already dark with desire, with love, and Blair shivered when he looked into them.

"I'm ready, Jim." He glanced down at the razor in the older man's hand, his own eyes glinting with the same emotions. The metal gleamed in the fading light and Blair lowered his eyes to watch Jim closely, his body tense with anticipation.

"I'm just shaving the area first, Blair." Jim worked up a soapy lather and spread it over the small area he was going to mark. His lover's skin was warm beneath his sensitive fingers and he could both hear and feel the heart pounding wildly below. "Easy, baby," he murmured. He understood, though. There was a kind of magic working tonight. He and Blair were pledging themselves to each other. Forever. Shaking his head to clear it, Jim carefully scraped the razor over the area he'd lathered, his concentration deeply focused on not cutting the young man.

The whole procedure only took a minute or two, then Jim was sluicing him down with water, cleaning away the remainder of the soap and any stray hair. Blair let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and smiled at his lover.

"It wasn't that I thought you'd cut me," he began, only to be cut off by Jim's finger across his lips.

"I know, baby. It's okay." Jim smiled back. "Are you ready? This part *will* hurt, though I promise it's not anything you can't bear." He watched as his mate closed his eyes and took several long, deep breaths, settling and relaxing into a lotus position in front of him. It was several minutes before Blair opened his eyes, but when he did, Jim could see the calm, the readiness there.

"I'm ready now, Jim. Mark me as yours."

"*Our* mark, baby." Jim's voice was gruff with emotion and he leaned forward and caught Blair's mouth with his own, pressing a hard, bruising kiss on the full lips.

The younger man's eyes were dark and smoky when Jim pulled back from him and reached for the knife. Blair watched him bring the knife toward him and grasped the older man's free hand tightly with his. The first prick of the blade against his skin drew a gasp but no other reaction. Blair watched in fascination as the knife traced a quick pattern over his skin; the tip broke the skin but not deeply. Blood welled over the cut, but not a lot. It hurt, but was bearable like Jim had said it would be. Actually, it didn't even hurt so much as stung like a sonofabitch. The small patch of flesh directly over his heart stung like he had fire scorching his body. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as the older man finished up the circle then paused to look at him.

"You okay?" His voice was heavy with concern over hurting this man who was so much to him.

"Fine, man." Blair's voice was hoarse. "Finish it up." He looked into Jim's eyes. "I love you, Ellison. Mark me as yours. Put our symbol on me, so that everyone knows who I belong to. Who belongs to me."

"I love you, too," Jim whispered, dabbing at the blood with a scrap of cloth. He raised the knife again. They had talked that afternoon about what sort of mark to put on Blair that would symbolize the two of them. It had been Blair's idea to use the two lines that represented the tribe and twine them together to show the two of *them*, forever joined. Overlaid on Jim's circle, as he would forever guard them.

The first of those lines appeared beneath his knife now, and Jim shuddered and wiped his forehead quickly. He could hear the increased breathing and pounding of Blair's heart, but didn't want to hurry because he didn't want to mess this up. He squeezed the hands holding his free hand and resolutely began the other line, moving steadily.

It was done in a matter of minutes then, a rough circle with two twined lines over top it. Jim wiped the blood once more, then picked up the bowl of ashes. He dipped up a fingerful and spread it over the cut, adding more, pressing gently against the still-weeping mark. The words he spoke to Blair then were an approximation of what he knew to be part of the bonding ceremony.

"The joining is complete, my mark to your mark, set into your flesh where none shall dispute it. You belong to me and my soul is yours. I am the lock which holds us, you are the key that binds us. Together we are one; separate we are none. The ash sets the wound; when it has healed you will bear a mark that shall never wear off, never fade, never disappear. You will be mine as long as that mark persists."

Blair met his gaze, his own eyes shining. He reached down to trace his fingers gently around the outer circle of the mark. "Yours," he breathed, then reached over to trace over Jim's mark. "Mine." Taking Jim's hand he raised it up and kissed the knuckles then pressed their joined hands first against the older man's heart, then over his own, holding it there for a moment, ignoring the pain of the new wound. "Ours. Us. Forever."

Jim leaned forward to grasp Blair's hair gently, threading his fingers through it, guiding the young man's face to his. He claimed that lush mouth in a gentle, loving kiss, then pulled back a little. "I love you, Blair Sandburg. I've lived here for a long time now, by myself, on the fringes of the tribe that I'm sworn to protect. But I've always known I'd find you…I just had to have faith in myself and powers that are beyond my comprehension. I will always love you, no matter if we're separated or together. I will always find you, if we are separated, because my heart will always find you, eventually."

"I love you, James Ellison. You've been a part of me, of my dreams, since I was hardly more than a baby. I've always known I would find you, and where, I just had to wait for the right moment to look. You're part of this jungle, Jim. You appear to me in dreams as a panther; a jungle cat who is wild and primal, but tender and gentle toward me. I see all of that when I look in your eyes, lover. I see the man who is primal; I see the man is tender. I will always love you, because there is no other choice for me. You've been my destiny since I was born. If we are separated I will wait for you and our hearts will find each other eventually."

Blair moved forward as he spoke until his knees were bumped against the older man's. Jim pulled him into his arms then and cupped his head to kiss him, groaning when his lover opened his mouth for him in invitation, teasing with an agile, facile tongue to lure him into the welcoming depths.

//Welcoming, indeed,// was Jim's muzzy thought as he thoroughly explored the interior of Blair's mouth. It seemed as though each time they kissed his lover tasted a little different, that it was a little better than the last time. He could smell such an increase in musk around the two of them, a musk that permeated their mouths as they kissed, because he could taste it, too. And the different textures and patterns of Blair's mouth; striated, smooth, bumpy, slick. Hard enamel and soft tissue. Warm and wet and fragrant, tasting of the lush, hot jungle and the cool water and of the essence of the two of them. He tasted himself in Blair's mouth, the dark, earthy musk of that most intimate part of his body, and he shuddered hard, his lover's mouth swallowing his moans.

He broke from Blair's mouth and nipped and sucked his way down, below the rough-stubbled jaw, down the side of his neck, across his throat. He rolled them over and Blair arched his head back, barring his throat, offering himself up. Jim grinned wolfishly and bent to suck at the Adam's apple bobbing there so temptingly before moving a little lower and biting down hard, sucking at the skin afterward, his body rousing to the wild sounds his lover was making. A rush, a primal urge was rising over him, to take this nymph, this seductive young sprite, and make him *know* what primal truly meant. What it meant to love a man who was part of the jungle; who claimed the jungle as part of himself. He bit again, hearing his own low growl as Blair tipped his head back further, a quiet groan sounding through the small glade.

"How 'bout it, baby? You ready to make a sacrifice? Sacrifice yourself up to me, to the gods of love?" The whisper was hot and harsh in the stillness of the clearing and Jim felt the shivers that traveled through the smaller body beneath his. He moved away from the tempting ear he'd whispered in to look into wide, dark eyes that were nearly black with desire, with need. His lover nodded, eyes growing even darker. He growled again, the urge hot within him. "You wear my mark, Sandburg…now wear a different one, also of my making." Jim lowered his head again to the luscious throat bared to him and bit down hard, drawing blood this time. Not a lot, just enough to leave a faint, coppery tang in his mouth, but it was enough. His lover screamed with the combination of pleasure and pain that was surging within him. He licked over the small wound, then sucked on it, pulling the flesh into his mouth.

A sting of pain greeted him then as nails were dug into his back and his lover held him close while teeth plundered his neck. He yelled himself, a primal sound; a large cat taking his mate--the scream of passion. No quarter asked for, none given. This would be rough and wild and loving and totally incredible. He grinned hotly into his lover's face, licked his lips and lowered his mouth to the soft skin below Blair's ear and bit again. Sandburg answered him by biting his shoulder, even, white teeth sinking into his skin. He shuddered and ground himself into the hardness that was throbbing against him.

"Mine," he growled as he moved a little lower, his mouth still nibbling, leaving blood-red bruises all along the pale skin of Blair's throat and neck. "I'll destroy anyone else who ever looks at you, Sandburg. I swear I will. You wear my mark…I wear yours. Don't ever think that means less than forever." He suckled the skin just above the cut, his lips feeling the faint stubble left from where they'd shaved the curly chest hair away. He heard the shuddering, gasping intake of breath as his lips hit the outer edge of the bruised flesh there. He softened his mouth, making his lips caressing, then moved lower to bite at the nipple that was throbbing so temptingly, waiting for him. This time he didn't tug on the ring; instead he threaded his tongue through it and slid it back and forth, knowing the nipple was being slicked and teased by the flat of his tongue. Blair moaned and grasped his head, holding him closer, but Jim shook the hands off, pinning them to Blair's sides. Long, slender fingers clutched at the grass on the ground as the bigger man began to slowly, carefully bring the small bud to the height of arousal.

He suckled the hard nub deep into his mouth, tasting the pebbly texture of it against his tongue. The ring was an obvious source of constant, low-level stimulation and he suckled it as well, knowing that he was tugging gently, even without doing so intentionally. He ran the tip of his tongue over side of the small hard bud, caressing the area where the ring disappeared and reappeared on either side. A vision formed in his mind of how this must have been done…someone pinching the bud to harden it, before piercing it. He growled and bit at it, growling louder at Blair's grunt.

"Did you get off on it?" he demanded roughly, staring down at his lover. "When whoever it was pierced you, did you get off on them handling your tit, making it hard?"

"No," the younger man ground out. "It wasn't sexual, Jim. Different shit, lover. I get off on *you* handling them. Do it, man. Touch me…make me scream again." He stared up into Jim's face, seeing the heat in the light blue eyes.

"I hate the thought that *anyone* else ever touched you, Blair. I'm jealous of any fucking person who's had any of you. And I mean it--I'll kill anyone who ever touches you again."

"Not a problem, 'cause there won't ever be anyone but you." Blair was panting now, his body straining upward toward Jim's.

The bigger man released his wrists and brought one hand up to pinch at the other bud that was standing there so fiercely aroused, so hard. "You like that, don't you? Like me touching and pinching you." The younger man had his head back again, panting and arching into Jim's touch.

"Yesssss." It was a sibilant whisper, echoing the sinuous movements Blair was making, his body writhing beneath the increasingly erotic touches to his body.

Jim lowered his head to whisper into his lover's ear, his tongue dipping into the small canal wetly. "Want more? Want it harder? Tell me what you like, baby." He traced the ear with his tongue while Blair struggled for enough breath to speak.

"H..harder, yes…please…ohhhgod! Yes!" His body arched upward into Jim's hand as the bigger man pinched hard on the small throbbing bud before moving his head to lick at the erect flesh. He groaned when Jim took his nipple between his lips and suckled hard, pulling the flesh deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue around, raking his teeth over it. "Yesss…like that, lover…god, yes…" The smaller man shook and shuddered from Jim's ministrations, his body on fire already.

Back to the other nipple to nurse and lick while he resumed pinching this one. Jim could feel the heat throbbing from both of the tender, hard little nubs and shivered, knowing he was pushing Blair to this. That his lover was throbbing with heat for *him*. His primal side pushed harder and surged again. He bit down on the nipple in his mouth and heard Blair's grunt of pain, then felt the wiggle as the pain subsided and warmed into pleasure. He left the nipple then and moved his mouth to the center of Blair's chest, licking at the silky hair there, nipping at the skin beneath it. The skin tasted of musk and sweat; of heat and smoke from their fire, and from the fire burning within the shifting body. There was a faint taste of grass and an even fainter taste of himself here, and he found himself licking up and down the slender torso, taking in all the flavors he could catalogue.

His tongue bathed up one side, running over ribs that were showcased when Blair arched hard against him, moving along to the hollow of one arm, before nosing gently through the tufts of hair there. He smelled his lover's fragrance, and licked lovingly, tasting him, before nipping gently and moving on. Back down and across Blair's waist, pausing only briefly to dip into the tempting navel before running his tongue up the other side of his lover's body. The other armpit was given the same treatment as Jim scented him thoroughly, knowing now he'd be able to find him in the dark just by scent alone. He moved lower then, back to the navel that had captivated him earlier, ready to pay it homage now. His tongue flicked in and out, teasing along the rim of the small hollow, the soft sobs and moans from the younger man like music to his ears as Blair wiggled and squirmed beneath him.

"Ticklish, baby?" he asked gruffly, his mouth moving against the soft hair that surrounded the tiny cavity.

"L..little…just feels g..good, Jim," was the stuttered answer, as Blair's brain attempted to respond. Rather than waste more time on words he could barely articulate, he wiggled a little harder, pushing himself upward, arching himself in invitation. Jim growled and thrust his tongue suggestively in, wiggling it back and forth, feeling the cock that was trapped against his chest throb hard in answer. His own dick felt like it was hard enough to snap off his body, and both of them were wet with the juices that were flowing copiously now.

He bit the rim of Blair's belly button, licked it again, then moved lower, licking as he went. His tongue picked up the heavier tang of sweat and musk here, along with the bitter flavor from the fluids spilled earlier today, as well as the hot juices leaking now. The skin across Blair's pelvis was tight, and he caressed the line of hair and the bluish veins there with his tongue, feeling the dull thud of his lover's pulse pounding there. Further down was Blair's cock; totally erect, straining upward, leaking from the tiny slit that was pulsing in time to the throbbing of his heart. Heavy, swollen balls were hanging below the gorgeous cock, all of it nestled within a luxuriant nest of thick, curly dark hair. Jim ran his tongue through that hair, then around the base of Blair's cock, feeling the hot skin stretched so tautly, the pulse so close against his tongue, only that thin layer separating them. He nipped with his lips here, moving up the shaft to the crown, sucking it into his mouth. His young lover groaned and thrust upward, trying to drive himself further into the hot mouth holding him. Jim shook his head and gently pushed the straining hips down. He let the hot flesh slide from his lips and kissed the weeping tip, using his tongue to soul-kiss, caressing and probing the tiny slit that was seeping fluid.

"You taste so good," he ground out, before returning to lick around the flared edge of the crown. "I could eat you…devour you. A fucking feast, baby. Ready to feed me?" He grinned lasciviously up at Blair and heard the younger man's heart speed up even faster. "That's it, baby…you get nice and excited, get hot. Gonna eat you up." He licked back over the slit that was leaking faster now. "You gonna come for me, baby? I want to drink you down."

"Oh, god." The hot words were burning into his brain. 'How long before I spontaneously combust?' "Make me," he challenged hoarsely, his cock straining from Jim's attentions.

"God, you're really asking for it, aren't you?" The bigger man mumbled around the heated flesh. "Oh yeah, I'll make you, baby," he growled in a low, rough voice. "I'll make you come so fucking hard you'll see stars."

"…*yes*…"

More of a groan, or a whisper, than an actual word, but it burned into Jim's brain. He opened his mouth and swallowed the throbbing organ down his throat, feeling the slide and glide of hot, sweet skin against his own heat. The shaft rubbing against his lips and tongue, fitting into his throat was silky smooth, but not. The veins beneath the surface rolled and shifted a little under his touch; the tiny pores were like a raised-dot pattern against his tongue. The skin itself held a musky flavor that was nearly intoxicating…and then there was the warm bitter-salt liquid seeping out. Above him Blair's voice had ceased to make words, the only thing emerging now were strangled groans and grunts as Jim worked him with his mouth, sucking and licking, moving up and down the hot shaft.

His lover shifted his legs open and Jim reached to fondle the swollen balls, rolling and cupping them in his hand, squeezing gently, then not so gently as he felt Blair's body temperature changing. The writhing, squirming body beneath him was moving faster, hips thrusting upward. Jim breathed out through his nose and swallowed the hot shaft a little deeper into his throat, his free hand reaching up to pinch at the hard nipples jutting from Blair's chest, tiny hard peaks, miniatures of the column of flesh he was sucking on.

"Oh! Ohohohohoh…." Blair thrashed his head back and forth on the ground cradling him and shook harder, the intensity of the pleasure washing over him, pushing at him. He was dangling on the precipice now, Jim's mouth taking him to that incredible place where there was nothing but pleasure. He shuddered harder, his cock straining and throbbing, then exploding, a burst of white-hot light searing through him at the same time. He released his seed in several hot bursts into Jim's waiting mouth, groaning and sobbing when the older man's throat massaged him as he drank him, just as he'd been promised; the stars he'd also been promised dancing around his eyes as his vision went a little spotty for a minute.

Jim swallowed the last of the thick cream and let the still partially-erect organ slip from his lips. His own breathing was fast and erratic because he wanted Blair so bad right now he could barely focus on anything. The blowjob had been an appetizer; he was ready for the main course now. He shifted upward to kiss his gasping lover, then bit him gently just below where he'd drawn blood. His tongue soothed over the bites, the marks turning into bruises of passion on the pale skin.

"Want you, baby," he whispered in a husky voice. "Want you, need you, love you. Gotta have you, Blair. Claim you again and again as mine." His lips traced the bruises, then moved across to nip at an earlobe. Fingers tightened on his biceps as Blair responded to the light, gentle caresses.

"Yes, yours," swirled around in his head as teeth scored his flesh over and over, biting and nipping down the side of his neck. Jim shuddered in Blair's arms as his young lover marked him, then shuddered again when the primal part of him began surging again, fed by Blair's seed and the scent and taste of his skin and the feel of the younger man marking *him*. He growled and pulled away, flipping the smaller man over onto his stomach, biting roughly at the unblemished skin of his back and shoulders.

"Gonna have you," he muttered harshly into the soft skin, watching the muscles ripple and move beneath it as Blair squirmed and wiggled. He licked his way down the long back, tasting sweat and salt and musk, combined with other earthy flavors. At the indentation that signaled Blair's waist he paused and nipped, then bit harder, sucking on the skin and growling when the younger man moved, pushing upward against him, an incoherent plea hissing around them.

"*Please*…" Just a word, but so much emotion, so much feeling behind it. The mouth devouring him was driving him insane with desire. Even now, just minutes after an intense, powerful orgasm that rocked him to his core, he was burning for this man, this primal other half of himself. He shook harder and felt the mouth move lower, a warm wet tongue tracing over the fleshy mounds of his ass, teasing down the crack between his cheeks. He groaned, his whole body surging in arousal, and spread his legs wider. He felt Jim grin at his wanton action, and teeth nipped his butt, sinking into the skin just to the outside of the sensitive cleft. He moaned and moved his legs a little further apart in invitation.

"Oh yeah, baby…you spread 'em for me." Jim grinned again, the words surging from his throat, husky and raw. Blair's whole body was flushed with arousal; a light pink dusting over the pale skin with its dark sprinkling of hair. He lowered his head and bit his lover's ass again, then teased his tongue all the way down the shadowy cleft until he reached the puckered, throbbing bud that hid the center of his lover. He caressed Blair's cheeks with his hands, then parted them, holding him open and exposed to his eyes. "I love you like this, Blair," he continued in a hot murmur, lowering his head to trace a whisper-soft trail around the little rosette. "All hot, and shaking, your body ready for my loving. I love it, I love you." He wiggled the tip of his tongue against the tiny bud and felt it relax and unfurl a little for him. "That's it, baby. Relax for me. Let me in."

A loud groan rose up and Jim felt his body shake as the hunger surged within him again. He licked back up the crease, nipped each cheek and bit at the edge of the crease, then licked back down again, detouring around the bud that was quivering, begging for his attention. He nibbled at the edge of the pucker, teasing it with the blunt edges of his teeth, then laving it expansively with the flat of his tongue. Blair's groans turned to outright moans of pleasure as he thrust his ass upward, begging without words for more. Jim pressed his tongue against the pulsing opening and fluttered it, teasing, then pushed inward, stabbing with just the tip, feeling the hot muscle tighten around him before loosening to let him in. He groaned as his own cock throbbed angrily, wanting and needing release, wanting to be where his tongue was right now. Another shove from the hot body beneath him forced his tongue a little further into the snug channel and he growled softly. Blair's body was butter-soft inside, and hot as a furnace. The tight muscles that guarded this most precious opening so carefully were relaxing and opening for him, loosened by their earlier loving and his lover's hunger for him.

Jim slid his tongue out and licked and nipped at the now partially-opened pucker and the tender skin around it. He sucked on a finger, slicking it up good, then slid it into the hot, tight tunnel, shuddering when Blair tightened then relaxed around him.

"More," the younger man groaned, pushing his hips up. "I want *you*, Jim…need your cock inside me, fucking me."

"Christ, baby," the bigger man thrust a second slicked finger into the straining, writhing body. "God," he moaned, "you're so hot…like a goddamn oven…" He withdrew his fingers and shifted upward onto his knees, then slapped the tempting ass in front of him. Blair groaned and wiggled for him.

"Do it, Jim…please…I'm beggin' here, lover…dyin'…need you…" the younger man panted hard, his body straining backward for the large warm man behind him.

"Comin', baby…relax." Jim spread oil on his throbbing erection, the poured some down over the open cleft, rubbing it into the exposed, loose hole there. He pulled Blair back against him, shuddering when his cock touched against the little bud waiting there, at the heat being thrown from his lover's center. A loud, snarling growl filled the air as he sank his aching dick into the slick heat waiting for him. Another growl answered him as Blair surged backward, pushing against him, driving him deeper into the pulsing channel.

"Take me! Take me! Fuck me, Jim, love me!" The words were hoarse whispers ringing around them, filling Jim's head. He growled again and pulled out, thrusting back inside the hot, willing body with all he had in him. Blair met him thrust for thrust, accepting, then demanding more; harder and faster, he cried aloud, begging to be pounded. Jim acquiesced willingly, pulling Blair further up onto all fours and spreading those luscious cheeks wide with his hands while he took him with a loving ferocity that surprised both of them. He groaned when Blair tightened around him and watched the long line of his lover's back, and the shaking arm movements as the younger man stroked himself furiously in time to the hard, fast thrusting.

The fast pace and hard, deep pounding over and over into a body that was hard and muscled on the outside, as soft and slick as button on the inside, and oh-so-welcoming and willing was almost more than Jim could stand. He wanted it over now, so he could get the relief of release; he wanted it to go on forever because he never wanted to leave this warmth, this heaven he found here. Part of him was appeased, finally; this was his mate, his lover, and he could have him as often as he wanted him, needed him. The primal part of him, the jungle part that would forever be part of his soul, would never be sated; no matter how often he did this he would want more.

Blair moaned and jerked himself harder, faster, his body beginning to shake from the intensity of the thrusts he was receiving. He relaxed himself further and felt Jim slide a little deeper into him, pushing against the hard little nub inside. He shouted with pleasure, a loud, indecipherable cry, and pushed back hard against the bigger man, his whole body quivering. His own cock was hard, drooling and spitting juice with each stroke, each thrust. He bit his lip and jerked faster, the moans escaping from his mouth as fast as his hand worked now. So close…just a little more…

Jim hit his prostate again and the world exploded in technicolor behind his eyelids as his body exploded within his hand, spattering the ground below him with his offering.

"Oh, Christ," the bigger man panted. He knew as soon as he touched that small, swollen gland it was all over. Blair's body tightened around his like a thermo-nuclear vice-grips, squeezing his aching cock beyond bearing. He had time to suck in a gulp of air, then the world was beyond him for a minute as all points on his body tuned into the exquisite pleasure flowing through him. His cock felt like it was burning from the inside out as he released his hot juices into the tunnel surrounding him, stroking him, milking him.

His legs gave out first, propelling both of them forward. At the last minute, just short of squashing Blair beneath him, Jim pushed himself sideways, pulling his lover against him, spoon-fashion. They were still joined, but his cock was flaccid now and slipped out when Blair shifted, his body tightening too much for the quiescent organ to fight against. Both men groaned quietly at the loss of contact and Jim pulled the smaller man even tighter against him. He buried his face in the riot of curls tumbling about, breathing deeply of the scent that was unique to Blair. In all the time out here, with all the crazy things his heightened awareness had brought to him, he decided that smell was the most blessed of them--he could imprint all the different smells that made up the scent of his lover into his brain forever.

They lay there for some time, not talking, just laying together and enjoying the closeness of the other. Eventually, both dozed off, content and sated from their loving. The last thing Jim heard just before he tumbled fully into the land of Nod was "I'll love you forever…"

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They woke shortly before sunrise, both stiff from having now spent two nights sleeping on the bare ground. Jim groaned as he staggered to his feet, then turned to watch Blair do the same. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of his young lover; at the bruises and bite that liberally marked the pale skin.

He smiled, although it didn't quite banish the concern in his eyes. "How do you feel?"

Blair grinned at him and teased a finger down his neck. "Like some wild beast devoured me whole last night."

"That's about what you *look* like." The bigger man's voice was sober.

"Don't even be guilting over this, Jim. I loved last night. Don't ever think different. Besides, lover, you're sporting a few bruises and teeth marks yourself." The slender fingers traced a particularly colorful pattern on his right shoulder and Jim found himself smiling for real.

"Guess we're both a couple of animals, huh."

"Looks that way." Blair shifted, still grinning, but with an urgent look on his face. "Look, man, I gotta take a leak. Be right back."

"I'm gonna poke up the fire so we can have some hot water for tea, then I have to do the same thing."

"Heat up some extra so I can wash up, 'kay?" the younger man called back over his shoulder as he moved into the copse of trees and brush just ahead of him. He heard Jim's grunt of acknowledgment and smiled. The smile turned to a frown when he considered that this could very easily be their last morning together for a long time to come. Jim hadn't actually said as much, but he knew the older man was going to guide him back to his camp either today, or at the latest, tomorrow. Last night's love-making had had a tinge of desperation to it that couldn't be denied. A hunger and a need that both of them felt down inside their souls. He sighed and finished peeing, then turned back to the small camp that felt more like home right now than anywhere else he'd ever been.

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Jim was already sitting back at the campfire pulling his boots on when Blair emerged from the small lean-to, dressed and uncertain. He cast a wary glance at his lover and felt his heart thud first to a dead stop, then begin beating in triple-time when the older man answered his unspoken question with a nod.

"When?" Was all he could manage with the piddly little bit of oxygen that was left in his lungs.

"I need to walk a perimeter, and check in with the Chopec who walked it for me yesterday…then we'll go." Jim looked down at the ground between his feet and sighed, poked at the dirt there before looking back up. "You've got to know I don't want to do this, Blair. The thought of taking you from here--away from me--it's killing me inside, baby." The last words were whispered; hoarse and full pain. Blair covered the small distance from lean-to to where Jim was and dropped to his knees in front of the older man.

"I *know*, Jim." He shuddered and reached out to cup Jim's face in his hands. "I know it, lover. Because it's killing me as well. I can't…" he closed his eyes tight, then opened them again when large warm hands covered his own. "At least we have some memories to hold us until we can be together again."

"I'm resigning my commission when I get back to the states, Blair. I'm not going to…I can't do something that will continue to separate us, and I'm not sure I want to do this any longer, anyway. I know it's all I've done…but I've had thoughts about getting out since I landed here over a year ago. It hurt so bad to lose my team…but I know that that was nothing compared to what it's gonna feel like to…to…" He couldn't say the words. Instead, Jim leaned forward and caught Blair's mouth with his, a desperate, demanding, bruising kiss, trying to convey all his emotions through touch.

Blair accepted and returned the kiss full measure, his own emotions spinning wildly out of control. He couldn't stand the thought of returning to his own camp, much less not having any idea how long it might be before he would actually *see* Jim again. He raised his arms to wrap around the larger man's neck, and his fingers brushed against the metal chain that held the soldier's dog-tags. He lifted it up, the pulled away to pull it over Ellison's head. With a defiant look at his lover he draped the chain over his own neck; the tags were still warm from Jim's body and he shivered from the heat.

Jim would have laughed at the defiant look if he hadn't been so heartsick and touched at the same time. He shook his head. "I don't suppose you care that you're not supposed to have those?"

Blair shook his head. "I need something tangible that was *yours*, man. And I know you have a spare set--I saw them in your toiletry kit."

"Snooping in my stuff again, Sandburg?"

Blair shook his head and raised sad eyes up. "Go do your perimeter, man. I'm gonna sit here and contemplate the gross unfairness of life right now."

Ellison reached out and caressed the auburn curls that were glinting with bits of sunlight. "I don't want to go…to leave you, at all. God, Blair…just the thought hurts… But I know that the longer we wait, *knowing*, the harder it will be to do. That's one of the things that the military taught me…the less time you have to dwell on it, the better off you end up, in the long run."

The sad, beautiful face in front of him didn't look impressed. Just sadder. "You'll excuse me, I hope, if that doesn't make me feel a lot better."

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, I--"

"Forget it, Jim. Just go do your thing, then come back here…" Blair settled on the ground cross-legged, his body shaking with suppressed emotion. Jim nodded and quietly left the encampment.

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

They made love one last time before leaving the encampment; a wild, rough, desperate dance that abruptly turned gentle, tender, needing. The hunger was no less intense; the emotions were no less evident. But both men felt the sadness deep in their souls and sought to comfort the other; their bodies responded and melded together. They climaxed, rocking gently, tears mingling on lips and cheeks as they lay together, loving, not knowing when they'd be together again.

When they had caught their breath, Jim helped Blair to his feet and they dressed silently, neither one sure what to say that wouldn't make them feel worse. Their hands brushed frequently, needing to touch, to feel the closeness of the other for this last bit.

At last, with the sun beginning its downward spiral, they set off through the jungle, in the direction of the river near where Blair'd been attacked by the snake.

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

They found the university camp a couple of hours after moonrise. Jim stopped them just on the other side of a small thicket of trees and brush and pulled the young man hard against him, squeezing tightly.

"I'm going to hold you for a minute, then kiss you goodbye. When I let go, I need you to turn around and walk to your camp. Don't look back, Blair. Don't turn to wave. Don't do anything that might…" he shuddered and stopped, his voice full of pain. After a minute he continued in a hoarse whisper, "I can barely do this as it is, baby. I need you to help me. I can't--can't do it on my own. Can you do that, Blair? Can you turn and go, and not look back at me? Just keep walking?"

Blair nodded against the hard, warm chest he was being cradled to. He brought his own arms up and squeezed back, his heart hurting so bad he wasn't sure he could bear the pain. "This is so fucking unfair," he whispered. "We love each other…we shouldn't have to…to…" His throat closed over the words and he found himself tipping his head back to stare at Jim. "Kiss me, lover. Make me forget for just a minute…please. Give me another minute to have you…to hold you."

Soft, warm lips found his and he shuddered and moaned softly as Jim teased at his mouth with his tongue, licking over his lips and asking for entry. He opened his mouth and let the warm invader inside, mated their tongues together. Slick and warm, hungry and needing, their mouths made love to each other for long, long minutes, different tastes and flavors combining once again with salt from a few tears that neither one could stop from falling.

"You'll come find me, right?" Blair whispered harshly against Jim's chest when they'd broken apart. They were still clinging tightly to each other, because when their arms let go, Blair had to walk away, and Jim had to let him.

"I'll come as soon as I can, baby. And Blair…" Jim loosened one hand to cup his lover's chin and tilt his head back. "I'm not going to wait here forever. If I haven't heard something in six months time…I'll make my way to the nearest city or military installation. I'll find a way back home…I won't leave you waiting. I promise, Blair."

"I'll wait for you, Jim. I'll be in Cascade, waiting for you. I… Oh, god, Jim…I can't do this." Blair buried his face against the muscular chest and bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. He wasn't going to cry. He *wasn't*.

"We have to, Blair. Kiss me again, baby, then let's do it. The longer we wait the worse it hurts."

"I can't imagine anything hurting worse than this." Blair tilted his head and opened his mouth for one last kiss; one last taste of the man he loved more than life itself. Then Jim's arms were unwrapping from him, pulling away. He shivered. "I love you. I will always love you, Jim."

"I love you too, baby. Go Blair…Jesus, go, before I forget why I'm supposed to be strong."

Blair reached out and stroked one finger over the mouth he'd just kissed, then turned and walked away. He didn't turn around, didn't look back. And Jim stood and watched him go, his heart breaking with every step that took the young man further from him.

He stood there for several long minutes; long enough to hear the glad, welcoming cries of the group that had thought their friend and colleague was perhaps missing forever in the unforgiving jungle. Long enough to hear Blair brush aside a lot of their questions and give vague answers in a hoarse, rough voice. Long enough to hear one last whispered "I love you, Jim". Then he turned and headed back the way he'd come, his back stiff, his face stern and unyielding, his heart broken.

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

Chopec Pass, Peru, September 1989

Captain Jim Ellison rolled over on his mat and stared up at the ceiling of his lean-to. It'd been nearly a month since Incacha had found him, bleeding and seriously wounded from a land-mine explosion. He'd listened to the shaman's tale of where and how he'd found him and combined it with the knowledge he had of explosives and come to the conclusion that he must have triggered a trip wire. But the question remained: why hadn't he *seen* it? He'd been able to spot things like that for a long time; ever since his heightened awareness had kicked in. Something niggled at the back of his brain, but he couldn't make the thought swim into focus. All he could do was speculate, and it was bugging the fucking hell out of him.

The worst of all was the missing time. He was missing at least three month's worth; possibly longer. It was hard to say for sure, because again, he could only speculate. He knew that the last *solid* memory he had was the day that he'd told Kandiki how odd the air seemed. Things got hazy after that, up until about a week ago, when he'd finally started really getting his strength back. Kandiki and Incacha told him that he was damned lucky not to have died; if shrapnel from the explosion had hit just a little further up or down from where it had, he'd probably have bled to death; never mind the head wound that came along with it.

A commotion or disturbance of some sort , near where the rotting wreckage of his helicopter was, caught his attention and propelled him out of bed. He thrust his feet into his boots and grabbed his weapons up. By the time he was halfway to the crash-site, he could hear volleys of gunfire going off. Gunfire meant one of two things: more guerrillas or soldiers. Officials of some sort. He shuddered and wondered if it was relief for him. //God, I hope so. I'm fucking sick and tired of this; tired of being down here.// Again, there was that fleeting moment of knowing something was lost, along with the sick sensation of missing it--but not being able to recognize what *it* was. The gunfire had stopped and an eerie sense of quiet hit him then. He hurried down the path, not surprised to see most of the Chopec warriors joining him, lining up to let him through. Halfway down the hill to the wreckage he spotted fatigues and camo paint; on the arm patch of one was the Airborne/Special Forces/Ranger insignia. His knees nearly gave out on him as he realized he hadn't been given up on! He was going home!

Jim Ellison schooled his face into a tight mask and continued down, seeing the disbelief in the commander's face as he approached. He held out his hand. "Captain James Ellison, ODA731. Are you my relief?"

The captain stared at him, then took his hand. "Your relief?"

Ellison stared back at him, trying to hold on to his patience. "We were ordered to contact the local tribes and organize a militia. These men and I have held the Chopec pass for eighteen months, and frankly, Captain, I'm kinda tired." A sudden burst of sound above him startled him and Jim tilted his head upward to view the sky. The other captain did so as well, then shot him an odd look when he saw nothing. When the flock of birds came into view, the Captain stared at him again, a strange look on his face. Jim ignored it and turned to gesture at the area where the unit had began to excavate the graves. "I have the dog-tags for all my men, Captain. If you want to accompany me back to my camp, I'll get them and they can be sealed with the remains so there's no question as to who is who."

The other man nodded and gestured to his second in command. "Continue the operation here. I'll be back shortly."

"Yes, Sir!"

It was so simple after that. He was airlifted out of the jungles of Peru and returned to the United States.

Three months later, after extensive debriefings, questioning and an unceasingly endless series of physical and psychiatric tests, Captain James Ellison was a civilian again, and on his way to his home state of Washington, to try his hand at police work.

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

Cascade, Washington, January 1990

"What do you mean, 'no record found'?" Blair Sandburg listened to the voice on the other end prattle on, his temper notching slowly toward out-of-control with each passing second. He'd been on the phone for the better part of the day--well, hell, for the better part of the last six *weeks*--and had gotten nowhere, fast. His latest attempt to find out some information on the whereabouts of an Army Ranger captain named James J. Ellison were dead-ending as quickly as all his other attempts had.

So far he'd tried Ft. Campbell, which was where Jim had said he'd flown out of. He'd tried the Department of Veterans Affairs headquarters in Washington, D.C. He'd contacted the Red Cross and the USO; the Veterans of Foreign Wars, the American Legion. When Jim made the cover of Newsweek he'd gone ape-shit, calling all of those organizations. When he made the cover of Time, he lost it completely, and contacted the editor of the magazine. He'd been told, sorry, that information is confidential; whereabouts cannot be given out without the person having given express permission beforehand. Based on information he read in the articles he'd contacted Walter Reed Hospital. Jim had been discharged from the hospital two weeks ago. He was so close, yet so far away. He'd hung up the phone, cried for a while, then sat back down, trying to regroup, reform a plan.

It hurt so bad.

Part of him was trying to figure out why he was trying so hard to find a man who obviously didn't want to be found. At least not by him. Then the sane, rational part of his mind would demand why he thought *that*--irrefutable evidence to the contrary aside. //Jim loves me. He swore he did; we took vows, make a pledge…we did a bonding ceremony. He wouldn't just not find me…something's wrong. That has to be it.// It had to be, because the alternative was too painful.

So here he was, one last attempt. After this he didn't know where to try, because he was out of options at that point. The Pentagon. A bureaucratic nightmare; the kind of place he'd learned long ago to avoid like the plague whenever possible, and he was calling there, practically begging for scraps of information.

And the bitch on the other end of the phone was telling him that there was no record available. Fuck!

Rationally, he knew before he picked up the phone that his chances of getting information when he called there were slim, but hope was a desperate, wild thing beating in his breast, and he felt he had to try. Never mind that the Pentagon staff didn't know him from Adam. Or that he had no claim to Ellison, like next-of-kin. Never mind that this was the last, clinging desperate attempt of a man so heartsick that he no longer really cared about the life going on around him. He had to try, one last time.

"Thank you very much for looking. Yes. Thank you." He hung up the phone with a click and stared at it for a long, long time, feeling the hope in his heart die a little bit. Not a lot; it would take a long time before it died away completely. But he knew that with each passing day it would grow a little fainter, no matter his attempts to bolster it. He raised his hand to trace absently over the gleaming black scar that showed two lines twined together over a black circle. Mates forever guarded by the guardian. Hanging next to it on a silver chain were a set of dog-tags that were all he retained of Jim, save the memories of a week's worth of laughing and talking, and two glorious nights of love-making.

The first of the hot tears dripping down his face nearly scalded him; then, Blair put his head down on his arms and cried out the pain of a slowly-breaking heart.

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

Rainier University, Cascade, Washington, April 1996

His phone rang, startling him from the tests he'd been submerged in. "Sandburg. Yeah, okay, be down there in a second." Shit, a fax. Well, that was okay, he just hated to break his concentration. He finished grading the booklet open on his desk, and tossed it into the pile of 'done'. Unfortunately, that pile was still a lot smaller than the 'not done'. He sighed, looking at it, then hurried down the hall to the office to retrieve his fax.

Dorothy Standish smiled at him when he breezed through the door. "You collecting medical charts now as well, Blair?"

Remembering that Kelly had said she'd let him know if anything 'suspicious' came into the hospital he grinned, then blustered, "Uh, no…why?"

"'Cause that's what this is, honey. Here." She handed him the copy and watched him, a frown breaking over her pleasant features when his face went dead white as he skimmed the information there. "Blair? Blair--honey, what is it?"

"He's here," he whispered hoarsely. "Oh my god, he's *here*." He turned and rushed back out of the office, not even hearing Dorothy's question of 'who's here?'

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

In the safety of his own office, with the door locked against visitors, Blair took the faxed record and smoothed it out on his desk, staring at it as if it were the holy grail. In some ways, it was. It sent a brief flare of renewed hope surging through him--hope he hadn't realized was still alive in his heart; however faint.

Name: James Joseph Ellison

DOB: June 12, 1958

Sex: Male

Marital Status: Divorced

Occupation: Detective, grade 1, Cascade Police Dept., Major Crimes Division

Address: 352 Prospect, #307, Cascade WA

Home Phone No. Not given

Work Phone No. 555-4735, ext. 2131

Insurance: Bill Traveler's via Cascade PD

Complaint: Hearing loud noises, hearing bothered by audio stimuli. Eyes highly sensitive to light and other stimuli. Sense of smell highly exaggerated; sense of taste highly exaggerated as well. Patient has asked that tests be run to try and uncover the source of this hyper-stimulation. Possible cause: Unknown.

Blair read over the information three times before he could focus on anything in particular. His mind was still reeling from this being *Jim*--at least he thought it was his Jim. The heightened senses thing certainly played out; some of the rest of it made no sense whatsoever. Divorced? Working as a cop? What was up with some of that? And living right here in Cascade? He shook his head, wondering about it; then he wondered no more as he settled on a plan of action. It was time to get down to Cascade General and visit one of the city's finest: one of her boys in blue.

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

Cascade General Hospital

Detective James Ellison wiggled impatiently on the exam table as the tech finished the x-rays, then sighed when he left him alone. He waited for a few minutes, in case anyone came back in to finish up, but it quickly became apparent that whatever the tech had x-rayed, he was done. He looked around the room, wondering what he was doing here. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he deal with this thing? So his senses were out of whack. That wasn't cause for freaking out like he had--was it? He shuddered, remembering the aborted attempt at dinner with Carolyn last night. What'd he been thinking, anyway? //Wooing the ex-wife, Jimmy? What the *hell* was up with that kiss, anyway?// He shook his head and slipped off the exam table, pulling the paper gown from his body impatiently. If a doctor didn't get in here in the next five minute, he was gonna stick his head out the door and start roaring. The part of him that had absorbed the jungle was still very much present; although generally quiet, his primal side had a tendency to surge to the fore when he least expected it...and now seemed like a prime moment for that.

He was buttoning his shirt on when the door opened and he turned his attention toward it to find a young man with long, curly hair gathered back in a pony-tail walking through the door. He was cute--he was damned cute. But Jim wasn't here to troll for dates or bedmates. He was here to figure out what the hell was up with his mind, his body, whatever it was. He looked at the young man expectantly, noting the faint expression of hopefulness and excitement on his face. //Way too young for you anyway, Jimmy,// he chastised himself, feeling an odd sort of prickle run through his mind at the thought.

"Detective Ellison? I'm Dr. McKay." The kid even *sounded* hopeful. Great. A brand-new baby doctor, hoping to score the big one with the cop with the freaky senses

Suspicion shot through Ellison like a bullet with his name on it. "Your name tag says McCoy."

"Um...yeah. But the correct Gaelic pronunciation of my family name is McKay."

He'd let it slide for now. "You got the results?"

"Of?"

Damn, the hopeful look had faded a notch. Too bad. He kind of liked the way it brightened the kid's eyes. If he was interested in looking at him. He reined in his wayward thoughts and tried to curb his impatience. "The tests?"

There was a momentary pause, then the kid regrouped. "Forget the tests! You don't need medicine. You need information."

"W-what are you? An intern?" All right. There were jokes and then there were jokes. This wasn't funny any longer. Jim finished buttoning his shirt and gestured toward the door. "Go get the doctor will you, please."

"Now, what a minute. Hear me out here." The kid moved around him and Jim turned to follow him, at once fascinated and irritated as hell . "Loud noises that shouldn't be loud. Smelling things that no else can smell. Weird visuals. Taste buds off the map, right?"

Ellison frowned. "That's all on my chart."

"Yeah. But I bet I could add one thing--a hyperactive tactile response."

"A what?"

"Uh, " the younger man grinned knowingly at him, "extra-sensitive touchy-feely lately?"

"Hey, man, that's none of your business. And who the hell are you, anyway?" The words were practically snarled and he felt a little bit bad when the kid winced away slightly.

"Hey. I'm no one. But this man, he is." Jim took the card that was handed to him. "The only one who could truly help you. You're too far ahead of the curve for any of this techno-trash. You're a cop, see the man." With that, Dr. McKay pushed passed Jim and left the room leaving a very confused, bemused cop behind, and not at all surprised when a *real* doctor, sans nametag, walked in a moment or two later.

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

//He doesn't remember me. He didn't even recognize me. What the *fuck* is up with that?! Did I mean that little...did *we* mean that little?//

It'd been twenty minutes since he'd left the hospital, except he was still sitting in his car in the parking lot, his mind whirling around. That Detective James Ellison was a sentinel, he had no doubt. The signs had been there when he knew him in Peru. He just didn't know enough about them at the time to really recognize it. But *why* Jim didn't recognize him now was a total, complete, heart-breaking mystery. And he thought he was way beyond the heartbreak stage.

It had been almost seven years since he'd seen Jim, other than a momentary glimpse of him on the cover of some magazines. It'd been six years that he'd quit trying to actively find him, although he still looked on the 'net sometimes, when he had some free time. Actually, he hadn't tried for nearly a year now to find him at all. In spite of the fact that the pain had nearly killed him, eleven months ago, on what would have been their sixth anniversary together, he'd given up. Oh, not entirely. A tiny part of him, that part that had reacted so strongly today when the chart was faxed in, still retained some hope. But he'd recognized the need to get on with his life; to try and find a reason for living and maybe find love again.

And now, when he was finally starting to put the pieces all back together again, the man he loved more than anything--the man he *still* loved, if he was honest about it--was back. Well, not *back*, but at least he knew where he was. And maybe...just maybe...whatever was going on with Jim and his hyperactive senses would be enough to get the soldier, no the *cop*, into his world. And maybe he'd be able to figure things out from there.

Blair put the car into drive and headed out of the parking lot, his head spinning so wildly he didn't notice anything going on around him. All he could see were the light-blue eyes that had haunted his dreams for years.

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

Rainier University

//I can't believe I'm doing this,// Ellison told himself for the dozenth time, standing outside the door labeled first, Artifact Storage 3, and second, Blair Sandburg. He stared down at the small card in his hand, his mind transfixed for a moment on the letters there. That little niggling voice in the back of his head was practically screaming at him right now, but he didn't understand what it was saying. The cacophony coming from inside the room made him wince and have to fight against the urge to turn around and leave. //What am I *doing* here? How is this related in any way to my senses going off the map?// And *who* was the cute, geeky little guy who had showed up yesterday, urging this card on him?

He swallowed, knocked, then knocked again. No one answered, but then, he wasn't surprised. The noise that he heard coming from the other side of the door was probably drowning out any other kind of sound. He pushed the door open, steeling himself for the blast of sound pollution that hit him.

Sonofabitch. It was the same cute, geeky little shit from the hospital yesterday. //I knew he wasn't a doctor. No way.// The kid was sitting in a chair in front of some hellatious stereo speakers, boogying and moving in place. He waited for a minute until this strange person turned around and saw him, then took a cautious step forward into the small room.

Blair's heart nearly dropped when he saw Ellison standing there in the doorway to his office. He swallowed hard, then grinned and said the first inane thing that came to mind. "Ooh, hey!... Notice how the war chant of the Yamo-Mamo headhunters finds its echoes in the cellars of Seattle." He eyed Jim, then said, "But I'm sure your dad used to say that stuff to you all the time about the Stones--'hey, turn that jungle music *down*!'"

Ellison grimaced. This was going to be a total fucking waste of time. He could tell right now. "Yeah, he did. So do I. Do you mind?"

"No, no." He reached for the controls of the stereo, his hand shaking a little bit.

The volume of the music dropped, then died altogether and Jim was able to breathe a little easier. He studied the younger man for a moment, naked curiosity on his face, then stepped closer. "Why're you in my face?"

Blair blinked, staring at the eyes that had once stared into his with love, desire, affection--sadness when they had to separate. Now they glinted like blue ice. "Oh, hey, look. I'm really sorry about all that Shakespeare stuff at the hospital, but I just had to find some way to get you into my area here, so we could talk." //And so I could see if there was *any* recognition. Anything.//

Jim stared at the kid, trying to decide how old this guy was. 'So young, baby. You're *so* young.' The voice was his...but who had he been talking to? He tuned back into the conversation. "So talk."

"Okay, all right. Here--please." The younger man moved some books and files from the only other chair in the small room, muttering, "get you a seat here...Um, have a seat man." He stood in front of Jim then, staring at him, wondering how to do this. Work on a buddy-buddy angle? Academic? Man-to-man? He shuddered inwardly. "You see, ah, there's this nurse that I've been...y'know..." the small, slender hands rolled and gestured, and Blair smiled suggestively, then stopped when the ice-blue eyes got colder, looking at him. "...tutoring, at the med center, and ah, she saw your chart and she faxed it over to me and when I read the thing it was like *BANG!*, Holy Grail time!"

Ellison stared at this kid, wondering when he'd been dropped into the Twilight Zone. "You're losin' me, Chief."

Sandburg looked uncertain for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, um, my name is Blair Sandburg-" he paused, hoping for a reaction and wasn't really surprised when he didn't get one, other than Jim looking away from him, "--and I'm working on my doctorate in anthropology. And you just may be the living embodiment of my field of study. If I'm correct, Detective Ellison, you're a behavioral throw-back to a pre-civilized breed of man!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he could call them back. That was stupid. That was *beyond* stupid. He could see it from the way the bigger man tensed in the chair he was still--miraculously--sitting in. When he spoke, the detective's voice made the ice in his eyes seem warm.

"Are you out of your mind?" He surged up out of the chair he'd been sitting in, body tight and tense. "You dragged me all the way over here to tell me I'm some sort of *caveman*?" He could hear the incredulity in his voice; couldn't quite believe he'd heard what he heard.

Blair shrank back. *His* Jim was in there somewhere, but he couldn't see him through this very lethal exterior. He toned his voice down, soothing, "Well, maybe I was a little out of line with that caveman comment, but, I mean--" Strong hands grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall just behind him, a snarling visage blocked all other sights from his vision. When Ellison spoke again, his voice was a icy, biting growl that sent chills up and down Blair's spine.

He was so pissed he could barely see straight. Where the fuck did this kid get off? "Listen, you neo-hippy-witchdoctor-punk!" He spat the words into the younger man's face, watching the various expressions passing over the beautiful face. //Beautiful face?!// He mentally shook himself and leaned in closer, punctuating each snarled whisper with a vicious shake. "I could slap you off right now with larceny and false impersonation, and you're heading real quick into harassing a cop." He paused to get a firmer grip on the kid and pushed back a little harder. "And what's more, your behavior is giving me probable cause to shake this place top to bottom for narcotics."

Blair's eyes went wide. "Whoa, hey, Joe Friday! Relax, okay?" He took a deep breath, then surprised both of them by snarling a little, shoving his finger into the big cop's face. "Look, you mess with me, man, and you are *never* gonna figure out what's up with you." He shifted his shoulders, not surprised that Jim had relaxed his death grip on him and lowered him back to the floor. Another deep breath to push down the pain that was coming with the next words; looking into the hard, stern face helped because he couldn't remember Jim ever looking at him like this. "Now, I know about your time spent in Peru, and it has *got* to be connected with what's happening now." Jesus, his heart was breaking all over again. He inhaled deeply.

Jim looked at him, pain etched on his own face. He'd spent the last six years trying to remember that time...trying to remember what it was that he'd lost down there. Something about this man in front of him was stirring those memories; why he couldn't have said, but it was disturbing him on many levels. He turned his eyes back to this Sandburg character, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Once the kid had dropped the flower-child front, he could sense interest and empathy there.

"Now, let me show you something here." Blair watched, knowing when he had Jim's attention again, then moving away, certain that the older man would follow him. He pulled the journal off his table, handling it reverently. "This is a monograph by Sir Richard Burton--the explorer, not the actor." He opened the book to the picture that had fascinated him for years now and turned it so Jim could see it. "It's over a hundred years old. Anyway, the idea goes like this: In all tribal cultures, every village had what Burton named a sentinel." //Yes, Jim--a tribal guardian, like you were!// Blair couldn't stop the thought as he watched Jim's eyes darken a little bit. "Now that was someone who would patrol the borders--"

"You mean a, a scout." Ellison frowned, wondering where this was all going.

Sandburg shook his head. "No, no, no, more like a watchman. You see this Sentinel would watch for approaching enemies, changes in the weather, ah, movement of game. Tribe survival depended on him."

Now he was really confused. What was this kid saying? That he was some kind of guardian? The scar on his chest itched suddenly. Deep blue eyes stared into his, stirring something down deep inside him. "What's this got to do with me?"

"A Sentinel is chosen because of a genetic advantage--a sensory awareness that can be developed beyond normal humans. And now these senses are honed by solitary time spent in the wild." Blair watched the older man closely, looking for a spark in his eyes, something, *anything* there. //C'mon, Jim...make the connection...// Nothing. "And at first Burton's monograph was disputed and now it's basically forgotten, I mean there are certain manifestations today of maybe one or two hyperactive senses like taste and smell, ah, people who work for coffee, perfume companies, oh, and in the Vietnam, the Army long-range recon units--"