Repressions

By Mickey M

© October 1997

The mouth beneath his was soft and inviting; the tongue that brushed across his was slick and velvety, together an intriguing combination. He sucked on it, drawing it further into his own mouth, enjoying the small whimpers and moans his partner was making. Warm hands caressed his back, pulling him closer, sliding downward to caress his ass and he groaned as one finger slid down the crevice between his cheeks. Their bodies were hot against each other, fire drawing and creating more fire, feeding off one another. He felt his cock throb against the smaller man, felt the answering pulse in the hard organ pressing against him. The sensations shifted into overdrive and he felt his orgasm welling up inside him even as his partner's hand moved between them to roughly stroke him...

"Ohhh!" Jim Ellison sat straight up in bed as his seed spurted over his hand, dripping onto his thighs and the bed beneath him. His heart was pounding double time and his breathing was harsh and rapid. Where was Blair? He looked around in confusion, surprised at first that it was *his* hand, not Blair's, that was on his cock. The dream had been so real, so intense.

Again.

He lay back, hands shaking now from more than just post-orgasmic letdown; his whole body beginning to shake. This was the fifth time in two weeks that he'd awakened from an intense sexual dream, that involved his *male* partner and roommate, having orgasmed in his sleep.

What the hell was going on here? He didn't want Blair as a lover; didn't want a *man*, period. He was heterosexual all the way and not the least bit interested in checking out the other side of the fence.

So, reconfirming that with himself, what did the dreams mean? Was he harboring some sort of unconscious desire for Blair? For sex with Blair? Because it was always Blair in his dreams, never any other man. He shook his head against the pillow and closed his eyes, determined to get some more sleep tonight. He wasn't going to think about it. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away. After all, he wasn't interested in men. Not at all. 

*************************** 

"I'm telling you, Chief, cops know how to party with the best of them." Jim grinned at Blair, who grinned back; the younger man more than a little drunk. 

"You're not kidding, man," the student responded. "I've been to some kick-ass campus parties, but you guys got 'em beat hands down. And you don't have to worry about getting raided. Not that I've been to too many parties that got raided, but you only have to be at one and that's enough 'cuz it sucks big time when you have to stop and do a lot of explaining to the police but since you're the police it doesn't matter if someone raids you does it? I always wondered about that I and I think I'm just going to stand here and be quiet now." Sandburg wound down and leaned against the wall, eyes closed. 

Jim smiled at his partner's ramblings as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. Blair quiet? That'd be the day. He took the opportunity to briefly study the smaller man, enjoying the contrast of drunk Blair versus sober Blair. Actually, it wasn't so much a contrast as a degree of shading, but it was interesting to see. Almost as interesting as staring at Blair's mouth was-- No! He wasn't going to pursue that line of thought.

 He dropped the keys. He hastily averted his eyes when they fell from suddenly nerveless fingers. What the--? It was like all the feeling in his hands was gone suddenly. He bent down, fumbling for them. He could see them, but making his eyes and hands coordinate together wasn't working well. He frowned, finally touching cool metal. He hadn't had *that* much to drink, preferring to stop early so he could drive them home.

Soft laughter in the form of a giggle floated down to him. "Jim, man, what's up? I gotta pee." 

"Just dropped my keys, Chief. Keep your shorts on." 

"Wasn't gonna take 'em *off*," the smaller man stressed, taking Jim very literally in his current state. 

Jim shook his head fondly at his partner as he finally grabbed hold of the keys and opened the door. He was relieved to see that it had been a one-time thing; no apparent lingering affects. Still, he'd have to ask Sandburg about it in the morning. What if something was going on that involved more than just his sense of touch? He didn't need to be out in the field and have his senses going weird on him. 

"Go on, then," he said, gently pushing Blair through the door. Sandburg promptly disappeared down the hallway, the sounds of urination and a deep, heartfelt sigh of relief resonating through the quiet loft. Jim walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of juice. "Want some juice, Chief?" he called out 

"No." Blair appeared behind him, holding his stomach. "Man, I drank too much. I feel like shit now." 

"No sympathy, Sandburg. I told you two hours ago to stop, or at least cut back. What were you doing with Brown anyway? Shots?"

"Something like that," Blair nodded blearily. He staggered then, nearly falling into the wall. Jim reached an arm out to steady his friend.

"You best get to bed, Teach. You're not going to be in any shape tomorrow to talk to those students of yours if you don't sleep some of this off."

"Mmm..." the younger man muttered, leaning into Jim. "You're not moving," he continued, his body resting against the older man's. "'S good."

"What?"

"Floor's movin'...ceiling's movin'...you're not movin'." Blair explained his thoughts in a quiet, patient voice that made Jim want to shout with laughter. If he'd known Sandburg was this entertaining while drunk he'd have gotten him this way a long time ago. Instead he swallowed his mirth and put an arm around his partner's shoulders, trying to ignore how good the smaller body felt hugging against his.

"Come on, Chief." Jim shifted Blair around and helped support him into the small bedroom. A gentle push landed Blair on the bed and Jim knelt between his friend's knees to unlace his shoes.

A sudden flash from his dream a few nights ago, of Blair kneeling before him like this, his hot mouth working up and down the stiff length of his cock, licking him, had Jim's heartrate suddenly racing off the scale. Another flash, of him in a similar position, sucking with abandon on Blair's hard cock, swallowing thick fluid raced through him suddenly. He actually leaned in toward Blair before he realized what he was doing and jerked away. He wasn't interested in men!

A quiet, slurry voice nudged him back to reality. "Jim?"

"Sorry, buddy. Lost my balance for a minute. Give me the other foot." Blair obediently lowered his right leg and raised the left, resting his foot on Jim's thigh. Jim reached down to undo the other lace, fingers fumbling with the laces as they went numb again. Damn!

"You 'kay, Jim?" Blair's voice, thick with alcohol and sleep, broke into his consciousness.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, Chief." The feeling returned and Jim jerked the shoe off in one fluid motion. "Just spacing there."

"No probl'm with that," the younger man slurred. "Are ya gonna undress me?" Blair laid back on the bed, eyes already closed.

Jim sighed, a sound of long-suffering. "You need me to?"

"Don't like to sleep in jeans·"

"Fine." A deep breath to control his breathing and Jim reached for the smaller man, raising him up slightly to pull his shirt off. He left the undershirt on and moved to the next problem. Button-fly jeans. Jeans were hard to get off when they were your own. He slid a hand inside and fumbled with the buttons, nearly sighing with relief when the first one gave and the rest followed. He pulled at the pants, then sighed for real. "Raise your hips a little," he commanded. Blair giggled but did what he asked. To his horror and mingled excitement, his partner's boxers followed with the pants.

"Don't haffa take it all off," Blair giggled again when he felt the cool air stirring on his genitals.

"Hush, Sandburg." Jim tried to separate the two, but Blair wiggled.

"Yer ticklin'," he muttered thickly.

"I'm trying to get your pants off."

"Why dinnit you say so?" Blair slurred, getting giggly again. "You wan help?"

"You've been enough help for one evening, Chief. Just lie there, okay?"

"'Kay, Jim." Blair gave him a sweet smile, then closed his eyes.

A moment of concentration, of purposely *not* looking at the soft cock lying there, nestled against softer auburn curls·oh, hell, who was he kidding? He did all but cop a feel. Sighing now in disgust, Jim separated the boxers from the jeans, slid one up and the other down, then covered Blair with the extra blanket on top of his bed.

"Done?"

"Yeah, you're good to go now. Go to sleep, Sandburg."

"'Kay," his partner mumbled. "'Night, Jim," he finished.

He stood in the doorway for several long minutes, just watching Blair sleep and considering what was going on with his senses. Finally, having decided that his best course of action would be to go to bed, he turned and left the small room and made his way upstairs. 

************************** 

The sound of vomiting, accompanied by a sour stench, rose up to wake him early the next morning. Jim groaned and rolled over, pulling his pillow over his head to block out the noises below. Beneath him, his cock throbbed heavily against the mattress, reminding him of the dream he'd been having. He lay with his eyes closed, hips moving against the mattress, almost of their own volition. He gasped when the familiar feeling rose over him and shoved himself harder against the bed, shuddering and panting as the warm fluid puddled under him on the sheet.

Ellison lay there, gasping, listening to the sounds of-- He raised his head in alarm, realizing he didn't hear *anything*. What was going on? He rolled off the bed, grimacing at the sticky mess, but more concerned over his loss of hearing. He stood there in the middle of his room, shaking his head, trying to clear his ears. No change.

It suddenly occurred to him that he could no longer hear Blair, either, and didn't know if his partner was okay. Presumably he was throwing up as a result of too much to drink last night, but anything could be happening. He snatched up the pair of shorts he didn't remember removing and headed down the stairs. Part way down his hearing slammed back into place, rocking his entire body with a sensory overload.

"JIM!!!"

The shout threw him off balance and he tripped on the next step, barely catching himself before falling down the rest.

"I hear you, Sandburg," he replied, feet finally touching the floor. "You don't have to yell."

"You weren't answering. Man, I've *never* had to yell--what's up? Ohhhh..." Blair cupped his head in his hands, groaning as a wave of pain worked its way through him.

"I don't know. Are you okay?" Jim watched the younger man in concern, noting the pale skin and rapid breathing.

"Just fine, if you don't count the hangover," Blair snapped, then relented, "sorry, man. It's just that my head hurts."

Jim shook his head. "Something weird's going on here, Chief."

Blair raised his bleary gaze to his roommate's. "Weird? Like what?"

"I don't know...my senses keep blinking out on me. Touch last night; sound this morning."

"'Blinking out'." Blair repeated the phrase. "So what are we talking here, Jim? Low usability or total loss?"

"Both times was total loss, though it only lasted for a few seconds; no more than a minute max."

Sandburg shook his head to clear it and headed for the couch. Jim winced when he walked past him, the sour smell of alcohol and vomit clinging to him. 

"You need to hit the shower, Sandburg," he commented as he took a seat on the couch across from his partner. 

"So sorry to be offending your delicate nose, man," his partner responded, not looking sorry at all. "Let me think about this for a little bit, okay?" 

"Think in the shower, Chief," Jim tried again, dialing his olfactory sense down.

"Geez, man, you're the one who wanted me to think on this!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't know how bad it was." Jim closed his eyes, trying not to acknowledge the dream right behind his eyelids. He opened one eye. "I'll wait."

Blair got off the couch and headed back for the bathroom, grumbling all the while.

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

His auditory abilities were working just fine while Sandburg showered; in fact, it was almost painful to listen to the sounds of hands and fingers gliding across soapy skin. His own thoughts followed those sounds, imagining the firm skin beneath his fingers and how it would respond to his touch.

No! Goddammit, what was wrong with him? He *wasn't* interested. Period, end of statement. He wondered sometimes if his home life as a child had anything to do with that; would he have been inclined to experiment at all and been dissuaded just from the situation at home? His father had been extremely, vocally homophobic, never hesitating to voice his opinion on "those queer little pansies" that lived down the road from the Ellison house. Jim could almost hear his father's voice now, ringing through the silence that had been their home after his mother had left. He'd gone to the neighbor's house for something and his father had seen him leaving.

'I don't *ever* want to see you coming out of that fucking house again! No son of mine needs to talking to some goddamn faggot! You understand me, boy? NEVER! It's unnatural for two men to be doin' those things with each other and I don't want anything happening to you--don't want you seeing anything to give you ideas.'

Jim snorted at the memory. As if homosexuality was something he could have *caught* just by breathing the same air as someone. Looking back on it now he realized just *how* unusual it was for Alan Bright and Michael Clark to be living together so openly, given the time period. Were they really gay though, or just two men who were friends and living together? Was his father just being paranoid? He considered his situation, with Blair as his roommate. Would his dad have listened when he said they were just good friends, or would he have judged his son to be one of "those fucking faggots"? He winced when he thought about all the ugly names his father had called those two men--and anyone else he suspected of being gay. **How did I manage to get out of that house with a reasonably open mind?** he wondered. **The atmosphere certainly didn't lend itself to liberal thought processes.**

Which more or less brought him full-circle back to thoughts of Blair and the on-going dreams he'd been having about his partner. Another subject he didn't care to dwell on, but couldn't seem to stop. *Was* he gay? He didn't feel gay--whatever that meant. He was, apparently, physically attracted to Blair, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Or did it? Did admiring another man's beauty make him gay, or was it justifiable as appreciating aesthetics? And it wasn't like he really wanted to sleep with Blair; what his subconscious thought wasn't really in his control, was it? He thought his friend was good-looking...and was content to leave it at that. Right? A thought occurred to him and he wondered if his partner had ever been with another man.

He checked the clock and saw with a shock that it was nearly 7:30a.m. In spite of waking up so early, the time had gotten away from him and he was going to need to get moving to get to work on time. His chat with Sandburg would have to wait until tonight.

"Sandburg! You better get your butt in gear if you're going to make it class in time."

Blair emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and Jim almost didn't smother the groan rising in his throat at the sight of his roommate's body.

He hadn't realized how attractive Blair really was. His friend was smaller than he was, but very nicely proportioned. His chest was covered with dark, soft-looking hair, which he knew, since he'd bandaged him up a few times. He wasn't pumped up like Jim himself was, but his muscles were well-defined with the skin appearing soft and textured all at the same time. Flat, brown nipples peeked out from the tangle of hair surrounding them and the hair itself tapered downward until it disappeared within the confines of the towel.

And never mind the long, dark curls that framed Blair's face; nor the smoky-blue eyes that could darken into so many different shades depending on the emotions playing across the expressive face. Deep eyes, framed by thick lashes. High cheekbones that were dark with stubble even after shaving. Blair hadn't shaved this morning and his face was nearly bristling with whisker growth.

"JIM!"

"Huh?" He shook himself, vision slowly returning to something resembling normal.

"Man," Blair shook his head, eyes dark with concern, "you, like, totally zoned out! What's goin' on here?"

"I don't know, Chief," Jim offered, a little concerned himself. He hadn't even been aware of the world around him going gray until he was pulled out of it. It was a zone-out, but not like any zone-out he'd had before. "We're both going to be late if we don't get moving. Are you coming into the station later?"

"Yeah. I only have the one class today, then office hours from ten to eleven. I'll be in around lunch."

"Want to plan on getting something or were you going to eat before you came down?"

Blair shrugged. "Whichever, man. Food's not real high on my list of priorities right now." He turned and headed for his room, and Jim could see the gooseflesh erupting on his body. "Gotta get dressed, Jim. It's too cold to stand around in here."

"How's the hangover?"

"Throbbing," came the short reply and Jim bit back a grin. "You know, you never answered my question," Blair called from his room. "What's up with you? Losing your senses...zoning on weird stuff--" the voice broke for a moment, strange muffled sounds from the small room indicating Blair was pulling a sweater on. "Anyway, it looked like you zoned on *me*. What were you thinking about?"

Jim shook his head, not wanting to pursue that. "I don't remember. I was just thinking...and the next thing I know you're yelling in my face. Again."

Blair appeared in the doorway to his room, fastening the top button of his jeans. "I don't know, man. You're acting kind of weird. Let me think on it some more today and we'll talk about it at lunch, or later this evening."

"Right." Jim turned toward the bathroom. "Hey, Chief?"

"Yeah?"

"I--never mind." How did you ask someone an intimate question like sexual preferences? Especially when you'd never seen them with anyone but women? More importantly, did he *really* want to go there?

"What is it, Jim? You can ask anything, you know that."

"Nah--it's not important. I'll see you later this morning."

"Right."

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

Blair was gone by the time he got himself out of the shower, but that was actually for the better. The less he was around his roommate, the less the odd thoughts pushed at him. Well, most of the time. Jim shook his head and headed upstairs to dress. This was rapidly taking on obsessive qualities, which was *not* a good thing. He shaved and got dressed and hurried out of the loft and to work before his mind could dredge anything else up.

The morning actually flew by rather quickly. Simon gave him a new case to look over and preliminary witness statements to review. It had started as a car-jacking, but seemed to be turning into more than just one isolated incident. There were several reports of attempted heists at one of the local shopping malls and Jim started to see a pattern emerging as he read through the file. One of the cars looked similar to Blair's dearly departed Corvair and Jim lost himself in unexpected thoughts of the time he'd come across his partner lying across the top of the car, sunning himself. Blair had looked so beautiful, so desireable then. A fantasy come to life. The photo in his hand slid from his fingers; he didn't realize it.

He was deep into his thoughts when a hand touched his shoulder. "Jim?" 

His head jerked upward, surprised by the sound of Sandburg's voice. "Chief." 

"Man, you were doing it again, weren't you?" 

"Doing what again?" he asked irritably. 

"You were, like, lost in yourself. What's goin' on in your head, man?"

Jim shrugged. "I was just looking over this new case. Nothing to it."

"Uh-huh." His partner didn't look convinced and Jim smirked at him.

"What's it gonna take to convince you, Sandburg?"

"Lunch?" Large blue eyes shone innocently at him.

"You're some piece of work, Chief. C'mon. We can grab a bite to eat before we go interview some witnesses."

"You gonna explain to me what the case is all about?"

"Yeah, I could probably do that, too," Jim laughed as he grabbed his jacket. Everything would be okay. He just had to concentrate a little bit and not let thoughts of Blair get to him. 

*************************** 

**Easier said than done,** Jim decided later that afternoon. His decision to not let thoughts of Blair get to him had gone the way of the dodo, quickly. All it took was one whiff of the herbal-scented curls and his good intentions were history.

And it would be just his luck that Blair would be in a touchy-feely mood today; most of which was Jim's fault, anyway. When he'd met his partner, Sandburg hadn't been all that physically minded. But he, Jim, communicated better through touch sometimes than through words...and that had rubbed off on Blair over the last couple of years. Now his guide touched his arm, his shoulder, his hand, all apparently without giving it a second thought. Not that this was a *bad* thing, just very distracting when your primary goal was to keep thoughts of said guide at bay.

Blair was typing commands into the computer, attempting to access the mainframe and get a report printed out. Jim leaned back in his chair and watched his friend work, admiring the way he seemed to know exactly what to press and punch. Blair always seemed to know exactly what to do, regardless of what was going on around them, he reflected. **He's so much a part of me now...so much a part of my life. I wonder how it is that he insinuated himself so strongly into it?** Another thought, more dismal followed on the heels of that one: **What happens when he's ready to move on? How do I get along without him?** Emotions that had been hidden away, pushed deep into his heart's recesses surged through him unexpectedly; emotions he wasn't ready to think, name or feel. He shoved them down, savagely, unwilling to admit to loving Blair Sandburg, another man. 

In the split second it took for *that* thought to form in his head, his vision grayed, then disappeared completely, leaving him in a dark, dark world; totally alone. 

******************************** 

The day hadn't started off very well for Blair; actually, the day *before* hadn't ended very well. They'd had a really cool party for yet another officer who was retiring. Jim had asked him to go along, obviously remembering how much he'd enjoyed himself the last time--unexpected visit from Maya notwithstanding. He'd had too much to drink, in spite of Jim's warnings, and had gone home not far from shit-faced. He had vague recollections of Jim fumbling for the keys, then getting him inside and put to bed.

Even more vague were the memories of hanging on to Jim and babbling something about being glad his friend wasn't moving like the floor and ceiling. And God, had they been moving! He'd pretty much passed out after Jim took his shoes off, because he'd have been sick right away if he hadn't. As it was, his body reacted violently to the shots of tequila he'd been doing with Brown; sometime around 6:00am he'd awakened to ominous rumblings from his abdominal region..

He'd make it to the bathroom just *barely* in time to lose the contents of his stomach.

Then he'd heard Jim coming down the stairs and had called to him, asking him to bring a glass of water in to him. There had been no answer and that worried him. Jim could hear whispered conversations from several blocks away when he concentrated; there was no way he couldn't hear Blair speaking normally from 100 feet. He called again, louder this time; still nothing. The third time he'd yelled, only to discover that Jim's hearing had kicked in (not realizing it had been out to begin with) and he'd nearly tripped down the stairs from the shock of the sudden influx of sensory input.

What followed after that was something out of a nightmare. Jim said his senses were blinking out on him, but wasn't able to give him any better descriptions. They were going to discuss it then ran out of time. He was looking forward to doing some serious talking about it this evening; even at lunch they hadn't been able to talk about it because of the new case they'd been assigned.

He watched the computer screen flashing the different messages about his print jobs, then turned to grin triumphantly at Jim; neither one of them had been very confident that he'd be able to find the information they were looking for.

Tendrils of ice snaked through him as Blair realized that something was very, terribly wrong. Jim was sitting next to him, hands balled into fists, a strained expression on his face.

"Jim?"

"I--it's gone, Sandburg." The terror in his friend's voice was unmistakeable and Blair felt his heart roll.

"What's gone? Jim?"

"My sight. I-I can't see anything."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing."

Blair swallowed heavily. Jim hadn't been doing anything, just sitting behind him, waiting patiently for the information to be called up and printed. He hadn't eaten or drank anything at lunch that he didn't normally consume; hadn't varied his routine in any way that Blair could discern.

"Jim? Let's...I'm gonna go see if Simon will let us use his office." 

"Blair... do something. Please." The last word was whispered and Blair's heart rolled again. 

"I'll be right back," he whispered, then hurried over to Simon's door. 

A quick rap on the glass earned him a barked "Come!" and he pushed the door open. 

"Captain? I need to borrow your office for a minute." 

The look on Banks' face told him that the captain wasn't happy about seeing him there or the request he was making. "What's the problem, Sandburg?" 

"I don't know. Jim's vision is gone." 

That got Simon's attention. "*Gone*?" he asked in an incredulous tone. "As in blind?" 

"I don't know the details, but Simon, man, he's on the verge of freaking out. Can I bring him in here?" 

A terse nod from the large man sent Blair back into the bull-pen. 

Jim's eyes were wide with fear when he approached. "Jim? C'mon, buddy." Blair extended a hand unobtrusively and helped his friend get up. "You okay?" he asked in a low tone. 

"What do you think?" The detective ground out. His face softened when he heard the catch in Blair's breathing. "I'm sorry, Chief." 

"It's okay, man. It was a stupid question." He deftly guided Jim across the bullpen, without making it obvious he was doing so.. 

***************************** 

Neither man said another word until they'd gained the relative safety of Simon's office. 

Blair steered Jim to a seat on the couch along one wall and then crouched in between his friend's knees. "Jim--how're you doin', man? Vision still gone?" 

"Yeah," he said tersely, body tense with fear. 

Simon watched Blair crouch next to Ellison and sighed. "Jim?" 

"Yes, sir?" 

"I--never mind. Sandburg, I'm gonna go catch some lunch real quick." Simon lowered the blinds on the windows. "Help him." 

Blair felt a bolt of anger surge through him. As if he needed Simon telling him this! Jim was his best friend...he'd do anything, including lay down his life, for this man. He nodded curtly at Simon. "I intend to." 

*********************** 

He waited until the captain had left the room, the door shutting sharply behind him. Strong, slender hands slid up Jim's legs to grasp the larger hands resting on tense thighs, balled into tight fists.

"I want you to take a couple deep breaths, Jim, and try to find your center, okay?"

"Sandburg--"

"Just do it, Jim. I promise you we'll get you through this. Close your eyes...deep breath...that's right, buddy. Just like that. Okay·you feeling a little more calm?"

Jim nodded, his breathing slower now than it'd been. Blair squeezed his hands then released them.

"All right. I want you to think about what you were doing just before your vision disappeared."

"I was thinking about us talking about this tonight. It's starting to bug me, and I'm really sorry we didn't get a chance to discuss it before we had to go to work this morning."

"Have you done *anything* unusual; ingested anything you don't normally? Food, beverage, anything?"

Jim shook his head. "I had a couple of beers last night; some juice when we got home. I didn't eat breakfast this morning, just got some coffee when I got in. Lunch, we had wonderburgers and fries. As far as *doing* anything..." Jim shook his head again. "Nothing unusual. Blair--" Jim reached out and grasped his friend's hands, squeezing tightly. "Help me...please. This is scaring the shit out of me."

"Calm down, let me think." Blair did a few deep breathing exercises of his own. "How are the rest of your senses? Everything else working okay?"

"At the moment. The only one that hasn't checked out yet is smell. Oh yeah, and taste. The other three have blinked out at least once, but this is the worst yet. Has lasted the longest."

"How do you feel, otherwise? Forgetting the fear of the moment. Physically, emotionally, whatever."

Blair watched in fascination as Jim's face closed up. "Physically I feel fine. I'm a little tired because I didn't get as much sleep last night; otherwise, okay. Emotionally..." the blank look intensified and Blair found himself mesmerized by the change in Jim's body. He tensed completely under Blair's hands. "I've been having some...odd...dreams, lately," he finally said, in a soft voice.

"What kind of dreams?"

Jim leaned back, his body warm with embarrassment. "I don't know if I can tell you," he whispered. 

"Here, or at all?|" 

"Definitely not here...I don't know about the rest of it." 

Sandburg considered that. Whatever the dreams were about, they were intensely personal. "Well, we could always--" 

"It's back," Jim said abruptly, falling back against the couch at the sudden increase in sensory input as his vision checked back in. Lights were brighter than he remembered, the sunlight from the unshaded windows nearly blinding him all over again. And right in front of him, still letting his hands be grasped, the wonderful sight of Blair's face, gazing at him intently.

"Your vision?"

"Yeah. Just like that." Jim released one hand and snapped his fingers then quickly snatched the hand again..

"*All* of it? Sentinel abilities?" Blair stared into Jim's eyes as if he could see for himself.

The bigger man smiled at him, then lifted his head and focused his sight through the small slats on the blinds. He easily read the text off of Patterson's computer screen, bringing a smile to Blair's face as well.

"Okay, Professor?"

"Yeah." Blair smoothed his thumbs over Jim's hands, then gently disengaged from him. "Now we just have to figure out what caused it." He sighed in frustration. "I think we should go home, then go to the lab and run a few tests."

Jim leaned back, his fingers rubbing together, feeling the warmth where Blair's hands had touched his. "Like what kind of tests?" 

Elegant hands shoved unruly curls back and Blair mumbled a curse when they fell back into his face. "Damn, I knew I shoulda tied it up this morning." He fumbled in his pocket and retrieved a leather thong. The hastily created ponytail cast his face into different angles and shadows and Jim swallowed hard when he looked at him. "Jim?" a gentle touch to his knee. "Still with me, buddy?"

"Yeah," Jim managed in a wavery voice. What the *HELL* was going on here? "You were saying about tests?"

"I want to put your senses through a workout--run some that we've done before as a control, then stimulate you--you know, maybe do like a rorshack test--have you look at ink blobs for a while." 

"How's that supposed to help my senses?" 

"Well, it keeps happening when you're thinking. Maybe if we can figure out *what* the trigger is, we can figure out *why* it's a trigger." 

Jim nodded. That made sense, in a round-about sort of way. "We gotta get this under control, Chief. I'm going to need to be at one hundred percent to do this car-heist thing."

Blair nodded and slowly shifted himself into a standing position. "I know, partner. We'll figure it out." 

*************************** 

By nine p.m. that night both men were ready to throw in the towel. Several hours of re-establishing his base, followed by several hours of ink blots, had uncovered nothing and served only to thoroughly frustrate both of them.

"I just don't get it, man," Blair complained as they drove back to the loft. "You've lost control of your senses off and on all day, yet the minute we try to figure out what the problem is, there *is* no problem. What's wrong with this picture?"

Jim let him rant, his gaze on the road unwavering. He was tired, his head ached and he was hungry. They'd managed to get themselves engrossed enough in the tests that neither one had remembered dinner. Well, Blair usually kept some stuff in the freezer that they could heat up quickly. He didn't want take-out; not after eating out last night and then again for lunch today.

He flicked his eyes over to his guide--his *shaman*, a title that usually made his heart tighten a little in pain at the genesis of that--and was snared by the sight of long fingers rubbing restlessly on denim-covered legs.

Blair felt the car swerve at the same time he noticed the lane out his window suddenly shift position.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! JIM!" He lunged for the wheel and straightened the truck out, then guided them off the road. Fortunately they'd been taking the back way home from Rainier and there wasn't a lot of traffic. He threw the truck into neutral, then set the parking brake. "Jim! C'mon, buddy, talk to me!" He waved his hand in front of Jim's face.

"Chief?" The voice was weak, shaken. "What happened?"

Blair sagged in relief against the back of the seat. "Oh, man. You tell me, Jim. One minute we're driving along; the next we're practically on the other fucking side of the road! What's going *on*?"

"I don't know." Jim turned to look out his window, not wanting to meet his friend's gaze. "I was thinking about dinner...I turned to look at you, to ask you about it, I guess...went from 'guide' to 'shaman'...and saw you rubbing your leg. Then, nothing."

Blair gaped at him. "God," he breathed. "This is kind of like with Danny, isn't it? Certain *thoughts* are setting you off!" 

"Yeah, but which thoughts?" Jim was shaking his head. "I've had thoughts about all of those before--in one form or another." 

"I don't know, man. I'll have to think about this some more. Meanwhile," Blair nudged at him with his arm, "let's change places. *I'm* gonna drive us the rest of the way home."

Fortunately, Jim didn't feel like arguing with him about it. **I'd have walked the rest of the way,** Blair thought as he put the truck back into drive. 

************************ 

"Emotions," Blair announced succienctly, pulling the truck into the parking space. 

"Emotions?" 

"Yeah. It makes sense, man. You're not zoning on *thoughts*, rather the emotions that go with them." 

"Okay·" Jim gave Blair a look which the younger man read as clearly skeptical. "So, what do I do with this? It's not like I can turn off the emotions." 

"I know, Jim." Blair rested a comforting hand on Jim's arm for a minute, then headed for the loft. "What *exactly* were you thinking about when you spaced?"

"I told you."

"No, you told me the thoughts you'd been having. What was the exact one?" 

Jim shook his head. "Sandburg--" 

"Come on, man! You think this is fun for me? Watching you lose it like this? I could have more fun beating my head against the frickin' wall. C'mon, Jim, work with me, here." **Don't call me on this one. Helping you is uppermost in my mind·my life.**

"I was thinking·about you--about you being a shaman now, instead of just my guide·and how much it·hurt·when Incacha died." Jim followed Blair into the darkened loft.

"So you zoned on the pain." The larger man nodded and sagged onto the couch. Blair watched his friend in concern "Well, okay, we can figure this out. Try this one: think about what makes you happy."

"Come again?"

"Concentrate on something that makes you happy. Like when the Jags win the playoff, or something like that."

"Happy." Jim stared at Blair, his expression one of bemusement. He thought back, trying to recall things that made him happy. Blair safe after the Lash incident; Blair choosing him over field studies in Borneo; Blair touching him when they talked; Blair-- Damn, there was sure a pattern emerging, wasn't there? He looked at his partner who'd situated himself on the coffee table in front of him. "I don't know, Chief," he began.

"Just try, Jim. If the good stuff isn't working, try something that makes you sad. Or lonely. Or angry. Try negative emotions." The dark blue eyes were sparkling with zest for this project; sparkling with a desire to help him. He smiled faintly. 

"Okay·negative." He closed his eyes and concentrated on the *flip* side of what he'd just gone over. Funny how all his most important memories featured Blair Sandburg in the starring role. When in the hell had that happened? He thought about the terror that had shifted through him when he'd realized that Blair had been the one to eat the pizza with the drugs on it. How his partner had felt in his arms, as he held him, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. How he'd wanted to hold on to that warm body forever·never relinquish it·show Blair how much he meant to him·

Blair started when Jim's eyes flew open in a panic.

"Blair?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

"Blair!" 

The younger man realized that his partner's hearing was gone again. He slipped a hand inside Jim's and waved the other in front of the older man, trying to pull him out of the panic mode. **He can't hear me--how do I get his attention?** He squeezed the hand he was holding tightly and Jim squeezed back, his eyes meeting Blair's. 

"I can't·hear·" he whispered in a rough voice. Blair nodded to show his understanding and picked up Jim's other hand. He raised it to his neck, pressing the large fingers against his pulse point. 

**C'mon, big guy·c'mon·get it·you can feel it, you don't have to hear it·** Blair held Jim's eyes with his own, smiling encouragingly as the larger man pressed his fingers harder against the warm flesh. From the way Jim's other hand relaxed within his own he figured that his friend was picking up the rhythm, calming down to it. **Nice to know my heartbeat works almost as well as my voice,** Blair mused distractedly. He continued to watch Jim's eyes, looking for a signal that would show him the Sentinel's hearing was returning. 

************************* 

For the second time that day, Jim was left in a vacuum of silence. The panic that accompanied that was almost more than he could handle and his eyes flew open wide, darting about, looking for Blair. The younger man was still sitting in front of him, eyes watching him closely. **Help me,** he called silently, his plea unvoiced and unheard. He knew he spoke out loud then, he could feel the rumble and vibration within himself when his vocal chords moved. He didn't remember what he said; the words became lost in the overall terror of the moment.

Then his partner was sliding a hand into his own, gripping shaking fingers. Jim gripped back, glad for the sudden support. He watched Blair's mouth work, but couldn't understand the words he was saying. He knew his own eyes reflected his desperation·the growing silence was moving in to engulf him.

A sound·no, make that a *sensation* filled him then, a steady, resounding beat. It took him a moment to place it, lost as he was in the haze. Blair's heartbeat. He came back to himself and realized that Blair had placed his hand against the point where his pulse pounded the strongest, giving him a focal point. He couldn't actually *hear* his Guide's heartbeat, but he could sense it. And it was enough to slowly relax him. 

He became aware on several levels of the sudden increase in sound, until he realized that he was hearing Blair's heart as well as feeling it. The gentle sounds of Blair's breathing, the hum of the refrigerator, the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. They were all there, where they were supposed to be. 

Soft pressure on his hand. "You back with me, Jim?" 

"Yeah." He sighed. "God, I *hate* that!" 

"Me, too." Blair released Jim's hands, a tiny shiver releasing itself when the hand pressed against his neck gave him a quick caress before moving. "So·what was it?" 

"What was what?" Jim looked drowsy now, probably from the sudden rush, then decline, of adrenaline in his system. 

"What was it that set that one off?"

"I was thinking about the whole thing with the golden. How·scared·I was while you were in the hospital."

"So it was fear, this time."

"Yeah." **Probably not the fear you're thinking it is though.** Jim nearly laughed out loud at that thought. What would happen if he told Blair about his dreams? It was a moot point, because he wasn't going to. But he did wonder. He stretched then, body relaxing finally. "I'm hungry and I'm tired. Got anything in the fridge we can heat up quick?"

Blair stood up. "I still have some the chicken and dumplings from Wednesday. Won't take very long and I can make a salad to go with it." 

"Sounds good." Jim headed for the kitchen. "What can I do?" 

"Start tearing the lettuce." Blair followed behind him, eyes still on his partner. "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Until the next episode, yeah." There was a brief pause. "We gotta get this under control, Chief. I can't be any use out on the streets if I have to worry about my senses wigging out on me."

"We will, Jim. Don't worry." Blair paused, then looked at him. "Um, you mentioned something earlier about dreams?"

Jim stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. "I don't think I can talk about them."

"But if it's something that will help us figure this out--"

"No."

The tone to the voice was a no-nonsense one and Blair raised an eyebrow. Whatever they were, Jim wasn't about to budge on telling him. Maybe another time, when his friend wasn't so tired and wrung out.  

"Okay. But promise me, you'll consider it for later." 

"We'll see." 

He'd have to be content with that. Blair shrugged mentally and opened the fridge to get dinner ready. 

************************ 

Ellison rolled over in bed, pulling the pillow with him. **What the *hell* is that noise? Jesus, if it's not weird dreams of me getting off on sex with Sandburg, it's·whatever this is.** He groaned as the noise increased. Something along the lines of a cat being killed, or metal screeching against metal. He threw the covers back, intending to head downstairs and rip the CD out of the stereo. The lyrics caught his attention:

"Who taught you to torture Who taught you Who taught you to torture Who taught you·" 

**Nice. I'm living with a guy who listens to S/M music.** He pulled on sweats and headed down.

"'Morning, Jim," his partner called out from the couch where he was sitting with headphones on. 

**Shit, I heard it like that with *headphones*? God, now the senses are all over the map.** 

"Sandburg, turn that shit down!" He shook his head at the younger man and walked down the short hall to the bathroom. He heard 'What's his problem?' as he stood over the toilet. "I'll tell you what my problem is pal," he hollered out the door. "You woke me up. I'm tired, my head *still* hurts, and you woke me out a nice quiet sleep with that--whatever it is." 

"Adam and the Ants, man. Cool punk stuff, for the occasional mood." Was it his imagination or did his guide sound contrite? "Sorry 'bout waking you, man. I thought with the headphones--"

Jim reappeared. "Never mind, Chief, " he sighed. "I don't know what my problem is. Just tired, I guess." 

Earnest blue eyes caught his and held them. "You feeling okay, Jim? Other than tired?" 

"Yeah, I guess. Like I said, I have a headache, but it's manageable." 

Blair watched Jim open the refrigerator and begin rummaging. "Whatcha want for breakfast?" 

"I'm not hungry. I'm gonna have some juice, then go back to bed. You think you can be quiet this morning?" The words came out more snappish than he'd meant for them to and Jim recoiled from the hurt that welled up in Blair's eyes. He sighed again and wished to be able to go back to bed and start the morning over again. "Look, Blair." He stopped, then shook his head. "Man, I'm sorry. I'm gonna go back to bed. Just keep it down a little, would you?" 

Blair gave him a half-hearted smile. "I think I'm gonna go to the library, then do some work in my office. That way there's no chance of me bothering you." The younger man tried hard to keep the censure out of his voice. "Before I go though, how are your senses this morning?" 

"Sound seems hyperactive--that's why the music--" **Or whatever you're calling it,** "--bothered me, I think. Maybe the source of the headache, I don't know." 

"Well, take a couple of aspirin and use the white-noise generator. Maybe you'll get some rest. I'll be back later this afternoon and we can talk about it then. Okay?" 

"Yeah." Jim watched from the kitchen as Blair moved around, gathering books and backpack and laptop. He was at the door before the older man realized he needed to say something else. "Sandburg." 

Blair stopped at the door, his hand on the knob. "Yeah?" 

"Thanks for everything, buddy. I'm sorry I'm being such a shit this morning." 

"It's okay, Jim. I'll see you later, man." The door swung shut quietly behind his guide and the loft was silent once more. 

************************** 

**Damn, why's he have to be like that?** Blair hit the steering wheel of the Volvo in anger and frustration. **I know his senses are messed up, but does he have to treat me like some stupid little annoyance? Jesus!** Sandburg looked up at the forbidding building that housed Rainier University's library, sighing once again at the memory of how·*ragged*·Jim had looked this morning. He sighed again and mumbled out loud, "Man, I gotta find something to figure out how to control this problem, before it takes Jim and me with it." 

His first reaction when his roommate had ventured down the stairs had been to run over, grab on and hug Jim until all the hurt was gone. Jim's hurt. He couldn't stand to see his friend in pain of any kind, and the obvious mental anguish all this was causing was particularly hard to handle. Especially since *he* was supposed to be able to "solve" all problems sentinel. 

It probably wouldn't have been a good idea to hug Jim anyway, he reasoned. Chances were that one of these days he was going to say or do something that would alert the bigger man to the deeper feelings he had for him, but the longer he could keep it hidden, the better. In the two years he'd known Jim Ellison he'd figured out that the cop wasn't homophobic, but it was highly unlikely that his friend was going to appreciate being the object of Blair's desire, either. 

Well, that was another problem for another day. Right now he needed to see what he could find on hearing and emotions-related problems. He got out of the car and headed for the library doors. 

************************** 

The call came from Simon at 7:00p.m. Sunday night. Another shopper at the Mountain Heights Mall had had their car stolen, at gunpoint. No one had been hurt, but the vehicle's owner was badly shaken over the incident. The captain wanted Jim and Blair to get down to the scene immediately. 

"I understand, Sir. We'll get right over there." Jim disconnected and turned to look at his partner. "You ready?" 

"Yeah. Uh, Jim, d'you think maybe·I should drive?" 

Jim's eyes narrowed. "I've been fine all weekend," he said in a careful voice. And he had. He hadn't had one single episode, which had both of them wondering if maybe it had something to do with not feeling well Friday night. Which made as much sense as any other explanation they'd been able to come up with. 

Blair picked up their jackets and tossed Jim's to him. "Fine. Just try to stay focused, okay? I'm *so* not in the mood to wind up as roadkill tonight." 

Ellison leveled him a stage two glare, meaning it could probably peel paint off most surfaces. Stage one had incendiary potential. "You're *not* funny, Sandburg." 

"I wasn't trying to be." 

"Come on," the bigger man pulled the door open roughly and gestured to his partner to precede him. 

The drive to the mall was uneventful, thank god. Jim's hands were shaking when he pulled the truck up next to the police cruisers that were sitting near the crime scene. He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to look casual as he headed for the officer who'd answered the call. He was aware of Blair behind him, giving him concerned looks, but didn't want to discuss it. He'd been okay on the drive over, but the after effect of close quarters with the younger man--even for a ten mile drive--was causing him to break out in a sweat, in spite of the cool evening temperature. 

He'd managed to actually avoid Sandburg for the most part this weekend. He'd stayed in bed for most of Saturday, honestly not feeling well. When he'd gotten up this morning Blair had already been gone, a note on the table informing him he was going to do the library thing again. Jim had felt a surge of sadness, followed by unexplicable anger, race through him at the thought of spending another day without Blair. That had been followed by puzzlement and confusion. Why should he be angry that his partner was gone, trying to figure out what was happening with his senses? At least he wasn't out with a woman. 

Sweet Jesus, where'd that come from? 

He'd stood in the kitchen, shaking, from the potential meaning behind that. Before he'd had a chance to deal with it, the door had opened and Blair had sailed in, so completely unaware of his partner's inner turmoil that Jim had felt the anger rising to the fore again. And it had stayed there for most of the evening, a slow, steady burn.  

He spent the rest of the evening giving Blair sullen, monosyllabic answers to questions; ignoring comments and statements. They'd had dinner, then separated for their evening activities. Every time Jim glanced over at Blair, who'd taken up residence at the table with the ever-present laptop, he felt guilt rush through him at the way he was treating his partner. And every time he felt helpless to stop it, almost as if it were Blair's fault that all this was happening to him. 

"Jim?" 

The quiet voice brought him out of his reverie. "Yeah, Chief?" 

"Just making sure you're still with us, man." 

"I'm fine, Sandburg. Just thinking." He glanced down as Blair pushed some documents into his hands. "What're these?" 

"Witness statements. Officers O'Halloran and Mikesel interviewed some people that saw most of the jacking. Officer Bryant is still taking to Dan Gregor if you want to interview him right now." 

Dan Gregor, Jim knew from his conversation with Simon, was the man who'd had his car stolen. He nodded at Blair. "Thanks, Chief." His eyes caught Sandburg's and he felt a renewed surge of guilt at the pain he saw reflected there. "I'm being an ass again. I'm sorry, Blair. I don't know what the problem is." 

"Your're confused and you're hurting, Jim. It's understandable." 

"Understandable maybe, but not excusable. Why do you let me treat you like this?" Jim stared into the dark azure eyes, trying to understand. 

Blair shook his head. "Like what? So you're having a bad day." The younger man shrugged. "It's not like you're beating me up or something--you're just acting like an ass." His eyes twinkled slightly then, taking some of the sting from his words. "Besides, I'm your guide. And besides that, I'm your friend and you're mine. It's cool, man." 

Jim sighed and turned away to talk to the officers.  

Blair stayed close while he interviewed the victim, adding his own comments and interjecting a question or two. The officers were pretty used to his partner by now and afforded Sandburg a lot of the same courtesy they gave him, including sharing the information from witnesses and so forth. Jim smiled to himself as he watched Blair joking with O'Halloran, giving him tips on how best to study for the upcoming test the man had in his psych class. **What would I do without him?** The fear that accompanied that thought knifed through him and he pushed it and the deeper feelings behind it down. The notebook he'd been holding dropped to the ground from suddenly nerveless fingers. 

"Damn." The quiet expletive sounded loud in his ears though he knew no one else had heard it. He bent down to pick the book up, fingers scrabbling at the leather cover, unable to actually feel it. A hand on his arm steadied him and slender fingers brushed against his as Blair knelt and retrieved it for him. 

"Happened again, didn't it?" his guide questioned softly. The best he could manage was a nod. Blair continued, "Are we done here?" He nodded again. "Why don't you let the officers know and we'll go on back to the loft." 

"The paperwork--" 

"Can wait until tomorrow, Jim," Blair said firmly, pushing him toward the officers. "We need to get you home, in case something else happens." From the ominous tone, Jim surmised that Blair was talking about losing something more vital than touch. He nodded agreement knowing that if he lost his sight or hearing again--especially out here--he'd break down completely. 

He stopped a few feet from his partner and turned around. "Here," he said as he tossed Blair the keys to his truck. "I think we're better off if you have them." 

His guide's face was grim. "Yeah, I think so, too." 

*************************** 

The drive home was quiet with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Jim thought about the latest car-jacking. Dan Gregor had described the two kids who'd held him up and demanded his car. The witnesses who'd seen the incident corroborated Gregor's story and two had even been able to give details to the police artist to do a composite drawing. He fingered a copy of that drawing while he considered their options. 

"We're gonna need to stake out the mall," he announced, startling Blair, who'd been lost in his own thoughts. 

"You're kidding me, right? Jim--you can't do a stakeout, not knowing when a sense is going to check out on you!" 

"We don't have much choice, Chief. Everyone who's been robbed so far has been lucky, no one's been hurt. What if someone decides to fight back and gets shot for their trouble? We can't risk it escalating like that when we have the opportunity to stop it." 

"I don't believe this, man. I just don't believe this." Sandburg shook his head. "It's insane, Jim."

"This is an ideal time of year to do this. Think about it. People are already starting to do Christmas shopping, the mall parking lots are packed every day. Lots of cars to choose from. We know from witness and victim reports that they work approximately the same area. We could hang out in the parking lot for a while, sit in the car, watch the area."

"What, and that's not suspicious?"

"Not necessarily," Jim replied, smiling a little at Blair's sulky tone. "Lots of people sit in their cars in parking lots. Husbands waiting for their wives, people doing their checkbooks, whatever."

"Two men sitting in car?" Definite disbelief in those words.

"So maybe our wives are in there together, shopping."

Blair actually snorted with laughter this time. "Man, you are too much. You really think this will work?"

"It's worth a shot, Chief. I don't think it's gonna happen any other way, 'cause they're too quiet. The only time we hear about them is when they take another car from this parking lot. They don't seem to be working any other area in the city."

"Which makes 'em pretty stupid," Blair commented. "Whatever, Jim. I just hope you know what you're doing."

"It hasn't happened once while I was focusing on the job."

"You had a *major* zone-out at work on Friday, man! Right in the middle of looking over this case!"

"My thoughts got distracted," Jim said quietly, turning away. No way was he going to tell Sandburg what he'd gotten distracted on.

"And if that happens on the stake-out?"

"That's why you're there, Sandburg. You're always telling me that your job as my guide is to be my backup."

"Man, this really *sucks*," Blair said in a vicious whisper, knowing Jim could still hear him. "I hope you don't get us both killed."

Jim didn't bother to answer that. 

************************ 

Monday found Simon nearly as reluctant as Blair was to let Jim set up the stakeout, especially when Blair shared the weekend's results with the captain. 

"You want to tell me why you think I should let you do this? Never mind the part about taking Sandburg along," Simon said calmly. 

"Because it's right, sir. We need to catch these guys and I honestly can't think of any other way to do it. Like I told Blair last night, they're not, to our knowledge, working any other part of town. And they seem to be focusing on this one area at the mall. Now, I don't think it would be that big of a deal for us to park a car and sit there and see what goes down."

"And if your senses check out on you?" Banks' tone seemed to indicate he thought that at least the *common* sense had already done just that.

"That's what Sandburg's there for, sir. To keep that from happening."

"Jim," Blair protested, "I can't *stop* anything. All I can do is bring you out of it." **Don't do this, buddy,** he pleaded silently. **I couldn't stand it if something happened to you while we were out there.**

"Then there's nothing left to discuss, is there?" Jim's face was stony, his eyes cold. "We need to do this. The sooner we get started, the sooner we'll nail the SOBs that are doing it."

Simon and Blair exchanged looks, then Simon nodded, wearily. "Go ahead, Jim. But for God's sake, man, be careful."

"Always, sir."

Blair cast one more look at Simon over his shoulder, then followed Jim out, his hand resting on the small of the older man's back, as if guiding already. 

************************* 

Jim stared at the computer screen, watching the cursor blink rapidly. It had a hypnotic, mesmerizing effect and was calming to his brain. 

Blair had left about fifteen minutes ago to catch his study group at Rainier, leaving strict instruction with Jim to call him, or have Simon call him if necessary, if anything happened. He knew his partner wasn't happy with the proposed stakeout, but he honestly didn't see any other way to do this. They had to catch the perps in the act, or it was meaningless. Although several witnesses and two of the victims had given fair descriptions of the boys doing the deed none had really been close enough to go on that alone. 

He hadn't had anymore dreams over the last couple of nights; something he was profoundly grateful for. Of course, the flip side of the coin was he almost missed those dreams, on some deep level, because they showed him something he doubted he'd ever have to courage to admit to himself, or to try. Assuming he even wanted to, of course. But the moments he'd spent with Blair last night, his partner's hand warm on his wrist, had sent strange currents snaking through him. 

A mental shake served to rouse him from his musings and Jim began preparations for his stakeout. If all went according to plan, he and Sandburg would be hanging out at the mall this afternoon. 

*********************** 

Blair unlocked his car with shaking fingers. He didn't understand why Jim was so hell-bent on doing this stakeout *right* *now*, knowing his senses could check out at any time. And what the hell was with that, anyway? It was only certain times, certain thoughts. Well, okay, the emotion behind the thought. Still. It was unnerving, to say the least. Jim's assertions that he wouldn't lose it on the job were a moot point after last night. As he slid into the driver's seat Blair reflected on last night, and the look on Jim's face when he bent over to retrieve the notebook. 

He'd watched for barely a second or two, then moved quickly over to help him, sadness moving through him at the look of confusion on Jim's face. **I'd give my life for him, to keep any kind of pain or sadness from him. I just wish I had the guts to tell him that.** No, his staunchly heterosexual partner would *not* appreciate finding out at this late date that Blair was bisexual·and in love with him. 

It wasn't even a question anymore of whether or not he wanted to date women, or even another man, though admittedly he didn't. What he wanted was Jim. Jim Ellison completed him in some bizarre way that had Blair wondering all over again about soulmates and sentinel/guide connections. **Of course, soulmates don't have to be involved romantically. Just a good friend with a special connection.** Which would be fine if he wasn't lusting after the man as well. No one else was doing it for him, lately, either. Other than the abortive attempt at dinner with Iris several weeks ago, he hadn't been interested in anyone else. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that *Iris* hadn't really done anything for him; it was more like another effort to block all the feelings that Jim raised in him. 

So where did he go from here? Nowhere, as usual. Telling Jim, especially now, when his senses were out of control for reasons they couldn't figure out, would be counter-productive. It wasn't so much that he thought Jim would demand he move out; nor even withdraw his friendship. But it would likely throw him for a loop and it *would* change their friendship. 

Blair sighed and headed for the university, his thoughts still jumbled into near-incoherence. 

************************* 

Jim held the phone, his fingers hovering over the buttons. What was the problem? He was just calling Sandburg to inform him of the planned stakeout this afternoon. It wasn't like he was calling to ask him for a date. He sighed in disgust and shook his head. **Man, this has got to stop! Those dreams started thoughts that need to get the hell out of my brain! I don't *want* Sandburg, other than as my friend.** He punched the number pads on the phone. 

"Sandburg." 

"Hey, Chief." 

"Jim. What's up, man?" 

"We're set to stake out the mall at five p.m. this afternoon. Are you gonna be finished up with your stuff at the U by then?" 

"Guess I'll have to be, won't I?" Was it his imagination or did Blair actually sound resigned to this now? 

"Blair--" 

"Never mind, Jim. Where do you want me to meet you?" No, it wasn't resignation. It was anger. 

"At the loft is fine; be there about four-fifteen." 

"Okay. I'll see you then." 

Jim didn't even have a chance to say anything else; Blair broke the connection and he was left staring at the receiver, wondering about the coolness in his guide's tone. He replaced the receiver then went to check in with Simon. It was a little after one now; with luck his captain would let him go home and finish taking care of arrangements from there. 

************************* 

"Do you see anything?" Blair asked for about the hundredth time in ten minutes. Jim sighed as he felt his temper stretching to its limits. 

"No. Not yet." 

They'd been sitting in the borrowed car for almost two hours now and Jim was starting to wonder if anything was going to happen. After all, it'd been less than twenty-four hours since the other car was stolen; who was to say their boys were idiot enough to try another so soon? But as Blair had pointed out, they didn't seem to weigh in too heavily on the side of brains if they kept using the same spot all the time. 

Blair shifted himself when his leg started cramping. "Man, I wish we at least had a van or your truck. Then we could move a little bit." 

"It looks more realistic this way." Jim shook his head. They'd had two female uniforms in plain clothes ride to the mall with them, then had made a show of dropping the women off at the entrance to the mall before parking in the back stretch of the parking lot. When Blair asked what was with the women he'd explained that this way their cover of two men waiting for their girlfriends was established. He didn't bother to share with Blair what the alternate plan would be. Movement from in front of them and off to the side caught his attention. Two figures, moving slowly through the parking lot, looking cars over carefully. 

"Heads up, Chief. I think we got our boys heading this way." 

"Where?" Blair eased his head around, trying to be inconspicuous. 

"Two o'clock, moving toward us." 

"Shit." Blair turned to Jim. "What if they see us and suspect something?" 

"There's no reason to suspect us. We're just two guys sitting in the parking lot." Jim kept his eyes trained on the perps. 

"But if they think we're watching them?"

"Damn--they looked this way!" Time for plan B. Jim swiveled his head suddenly and pulled Blair toward him with a hastily mumbled, "Sorry, Chief." Then his mouth descended on Blair's and the world as they knew it changed forever.

On one level Jim was vaguely aware of the perps moving past them, odd looks directed toward them. But on another level·

Blair's mouth was hot and wet and open beneath his. His tongue was a heavenly combination of rough and smooth and slick; mobile heat attacking him. He pulled the smaller man closer to him and angled his head so that it was tipped backward, giving him optimum access to the sweetness he could taste there.

It was such a contrast in everything, that kiss. Hard and bruising, yet gentle and caring. The arctic and tropics rolled into one; hot enough to blister and cold enough to freeze as all his defenses were swept away from him. Blair's arms curled up around his neck, the motion bringing them even closer together as their bodies strained toward each other to complete the touch.

His mind screamed to end this, pull away. The less-rational portion shouted for him to stay right where he was and see how far this would go. To say that Blair was a startled, but willing, participant was the height of understatement. His guide was into it as deeply as he was, returning his kiss with a degree of intensity that set off all sorts of bells in his mind.

He did pull away after a minute and found that the perps were slightly behind them now, still moving slowly, looking for a victim. Jim returned his gaze to Blair and nearly grabbed his partner again when he got a good look at the lush, wet mouth, swollen from his kisses and the deep, dark blue eyes that were dilated so as to nearly obscure the blue.

"Jim--what the *hell* was that?" Blair's chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breathing loud and harsh in the small car.

Ellison continued staring at his partner, not answering, working hard to keep his hands off him. One kiss. It had been *one* kiss. You didn't change your sexual orientation over one little kiss, did you? But what a kiss that had been! And what sort of glow was that in Blair's eyes, anyway? It certainly wasn't condemnation. More like·desire?

"Jim! C'mon, man, answer me! Oh, God--they're coming back, Jim·come *on*·JIM!" Blair slapped him on the face, not hard, but enough to get his attention.

The cop took over for the stunned, uncertain man. He shook his head to clear it from the light blow, then unsnapped his ankle holster, readying his backup weapon. He had the other in his back holster, ready to go as well. "I see 'em, Chief," he whispered just before they walked up to the car. 

One tapped on his window and he rolled it down. "Evenin'. Can I help you with something?" 

"Yeah, mister love-bird," the young man snarled at him. "You can get the fuck out of that car and get out of my way. You too, buddy," he gestured toward Blair, raising his gun for the first time. "Now, slide out, both of you through this door. Slowly."

They did as he told them, Jim sliding out, then reaching to help Blair move over the gear-shift.

"Man, you two are the worst yet," the thief continued. "Fucking fags making out in the parking lot--don't you know it's not nice to do perverted things like that where decent people might see you?"

"What, like you?" Blair threw out, ignoring the warning glower Jim leveled at him. Their thief seemed unaware and unconcerned, continuing his 'script'.

"Exactly. Okay, we're taking the car. Don't try to follow us, don't call the cops. Everything's cool." He gestured to his partner to get in the car.

Jim waited until the men had split up, then grabbed for his gun. "I'm a Cascade police officer. Drop your weapons now!" he stated as he drew his own weapon and aimed it at the man closest to him. Blair surprised him by grabbing the gun from the man's hand, freeing him to aim at the other man who'd been in the process of spinning to run. "Freeze!"

The second perp turned and fired at Jim, who shot back, his bullet sighted to hit the gun. There was a scream when the weapon reverberated in the perp's hands before he dropped it. He spun again and Jim shouted, "Don't do it! Stay where you're at!" The man dropped to the ground in a crouch, maintaining an otherwise frozen posture.

Blair had dropped the gun he'd grabbed and was holding the first man with his arms behind his back. The thief was struggling, but Blair had learned a lot in his two years as a police observer; helped along by several self-defense courses Jim and Simon had pressed him into taking. He held the man tightly until Jim got the other guy and had him cuffed. Then he handed him over to Jim for cuffing and dialed the long-memorized number for backup.

While he waited for the officers to get there, Blair listened idly to the sounds of Jim Mirandizing their suspects. His mind kept returning to the kiss they'd shared just a few minutes before all this happened. What was up with that? Although Jim had startled him at first he knew it was an attempt to disguise themselves from the perps. That had lasted all of about a half a second though. Jim's lips had been warm and firm on his, his tongue a welcomed invasion. Blair shivered as residuals from that kiss spiraled through him. God, what a kiss! How would the man kiss if he really wanted to seduce someone? If that was "just for looks" for the job, what would the real thing be like? **As if you're ever going to find out,** his brain scoffed at him. **Jim isn't likely to repeat *that* little incident--you saw how he looked at you when he pulled away.** Well, yeah. He'd looked as stunned and surprised as Blair had felt·until he slipped into the beginnings of a zone-out.

Oh, shit. Zoning on emotions. Was he zoning on something related to Blair? Feelings or something? His friend was definitely het·feelings for someone of the same sex would probably throw him for a doozy of a loop; that being the main reason Blair'd never shared his feelings. He mused over that a while longer as he waited for Jim to finish up with the suspects, turning them over to the officers who'd been dispatched to them. 

************************** 

The drive back to the station was quiet and a little tense, with Blair watching Jim closely the entire way. They turned the loaner car in and went up to see if Simon was still there; it was nearly nine p.m., so neither man was anticipating him being in.

He wasn't. Blair sighed in relief--that meant they could go on back to the loft and maybe try to get to the bottom of this. Jim was silent except for things that *had* to be said, then he made do with the shortest sentences possible.

His mind was in turmoil over earlier in the evening. Kissing Blair had seemed like a good idea at the time; try to minimize their presence to something other than suspicious. Afterward, the taste of his guide still on his lips, flowing over his tongue, he began to question how smart that had been. Blair's mouth had been like·well, without getting too sappy about it, it'd been like nectar. Sweet, hot, fulfilling. Something he'd gladly taste over and over again, given the chance. Shit. He was really in trouble, now. He glanced over at his partner, strolling casually by his side.

"Have you ever been with another guy?" he blurted before he could stop the words.

"Huh?" Blair swung his head around to look at Jim. "What'd you just ask me?"

Jim couldn't tell if Blair honestly hadn't heard him, or just couldn't believe he'd heard what he did. His face felt like it was on fire now as he repeated the question in a voice barely louder than a mumble. "Have you ever, um, you know. Been with another guy."

Blair studied Jim carefully. What was prompting this line of questioning? Sex was something they'd joked about a few times in the past--generally comments about whomever one of them was dating--but never actually discussed. "Why d'you want to know?" Well, that had certainly been leading, hadn't it?

"You have, haven't you."

Blair stopped beside the truck and sighed loudly. "Yes," his voice contained a hint of exasperation, "I have. Why d'you want to know?" he repeated the previous question.

"I just--wondered. When I·from earlier, you-- Never mind." Jim shook his head and made to get into the truck. Blair blocked him.

"I think I should drive us home, big guy. You're obviously upset·and I still don't want to end my days as roadkill."

Jim managed a small smile. "Okay." He handed the younger man his keys then walked to the other side.

Blair headed them home, his mind whirling around the possibilities that the question had raised. Was Jim interested in him? Interested in a relationship? Curious? Repulsed? Concerned? Had he managed to give away his feelings? God, he hated uncertainty, and he had it in his life in truckloads right now.  

************************* 

There were no zone-outs on the way home. They let themselves into the dark, quiet loft, and headed for their separate bedrooms, both men having a lot to think about and Jim not willing to do any discussing just yet. 

Blair laid in bed for several hours, tossing about, before deciding to get up and get some work done. If he wasn't going to be able to sleep, he might as well make it productive time. He loaded in his journal disk, figuring it'd been some time since he'd made an entry into it. Might as well take this moment. His feelings were so off the scale and things felt so fucked up right now, maybe talking it out, even figuratively, would help. 

October 6, 1997 

I'm not sure what's going on with Jim right now. He kissed me tonight, but that was more of a 'have to do it for undercover' type thing than anything else. Still, he's been antsy and irritated for days now, and his senses are wigging out all over the place. The worst thing about that is I don't even know what exactly is setting him off; nor how to help him with it. It was really scary Friday; he lost sight and hearing both--hearing, twice. I brought him back with his fingers on my throat, feeling my pulse. I know he listens for my heartbeat a lot, and I figured this was as close as I could get for him. Anyway it seemed to calm him down and as he relaxed he came out of·well, I've been calling them zone-outs, but I'm not sure what exactly they are. I hope I get this figured out pretty soon. It hurts like hell to see him hurting and not be able to do anything about it. I wonder if he figured out at all how I really feel about him from that kiss tonight? I've been in love with the guy for so long it feels natural now for me to kind of hide it. He'd freak though--I think. I'm not so sure anymore.

Blair looked at the entry, then saved it and exchanged the disk with the one for his dissertation. Time to get some more work done on his notes. 

************************** 

The smaller body moved under his, undulating in a gentle, but demanding rhythm. He could feel and hear the blood pounding through both of them; could feel the hardness of Blair's cock pressed against his belly, rubbing against his own. The feel of that heat touching him was nearly enough to make him lose it on the spot; he groaned and lowered his mouth to kiss his partner. 

It was like immersing himself into pure heat. Blair's mouth was open and moving under his, their tongues tangling as they explored each other's mouths slowly and carefully, not letting any inch go unnoticed. Gentle fingers flickered over his nipples bringing the flat nubs to hard, stinging peaks. The fingers increased their pressure until they were pinching and plucking at those little buds, wringing groan after groan out of him. He raised his head to stare into his partner's eyes and was blown away by the tenderness he saw there. 

"I love you, Jim," a quiet voice whispered. "Love me a little?" 

"I do," he growled low, bending his head to kiss the smaller man again. "I do love you, Blair·"

***************************** 

"SHIT!!!"  

Ellison sat bolt up in bed, his heart pounding. Oh, God, what'd this one mean? Or did he have to be a fucking psychologist to figure it out? No. The meaning was pretty obvious.

"Jim? You okay, man?" Blair voice, rough with sleep but filled with his willingness to help.

"I donât think so," he managed hoarsely, his voice nearly closing over the words.

"You want me to come up?"

"No!" panic was rampant in his voice, but he couldn't help it. "No, don't come up, Blair. I'm fine. Just a bad dream. I'm going back to bed now."

"Well·okay," his partner said. Jim smiled slightly. He could just picture his partner standing down there, brow furrowed in concern, but keeping his distance because Jim had told him to.

He rolled over onto his side and tried to get comfortable. Blair had been with other men before. He'd admitted to as much. The answer had rocked Jim to his core, though he'd tried not to show it. Did he want to be with Jim? Could the dream he'd just had be a reality? He remembered the look in Blair's eyes earlier; remembered the hungry way he'd responded to Jim's kiss, when all he'd had to do was keep his mouth closed and look like he was kissing him. He'd opened up, let Jim in. Let Jim be pulled further into the maelstrom that made up his emotional state lately.

Ellison groaned when he thought about Blair's body pressed close against him, mouth open and hungry on his. His body responded to the mental images; his cock began to harden and his breathing picked up. To have Blair willing under him like he'd been in so many of those damned dreams·to kiss that ripe mouth and have it kiss back, bruise him like he wanted to bruise·Jesus. He bannished the images from his brain with difficulty and began the harder task of examining his feelings, not really noticing that he no longer felt the sheets covering him.

How did he feel about Blair? Really feel about him. Well, he did love him, though it was more of a "I love you because you're important to me" than an "I'm in love with you" . Or was it? Did he love Blair, *that* way? No, he couldn't. He wasn't interested in guys like that. No. He turned over again, body restless and hot against the sheets that should have been cool to the touch. He wasn't going to think about it. No matter how good it felt, he wasn't gay, wasn't interested in men·in Blair.

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

The shout from abovestairs had startled him in wakefulness again after working so hard to fall asleep. Blair lay back on his small bed, restless and uneasy. What had Jim been dreaming about that would upset him enough to cry out in his sleep? Not just to cry out, but to wake up, as well? 

Images of the kiss they'd shared swirled around in his head, taunting him. Such sweetness, to become such torture. How in the world was he going to maintain any level of aloofness now, when all he could see in his mind's eye was Jim moving in toward him, mouth open and welcoming for him? He groaned quietly and rolled onto his stomach, pressing his aching hard-on against the bed. Eyes closed, maintaining the images in his mind, Blair began moving against the bed, pretending it was Jim's body he was rocking against. If he concentrated he could feel large, strong hands sliding down his sides, moving around to his chest, shifting upward to caress his nipples. Another soft groan eased from his lips and he ground his pelvis harder into the mattress, his imagination filling in the contours of Jim's body; hard muscles overlaid with soft skin; strong masculine scent swirling through the air around him. In his fantasy Blair shifted so he was sitting atop the bigger man, moving backward to take the straining cock into his body. He panted against his pillow as his hips moved faster, caught now in the intricate web of his thoughts and desires. He moaned and whimpered as his orgasm approached, almost able to feel Jim's cock sliding into him; hard, hot iron covered with hotter silk. Blair raised himself slightly off the bed and wrapped his hand around his straining, pulsing organ, shudders running through him at the thought of Jim doing this to him. He had time to stroke himself roughly once, twice, then he was coming, spurting hot fluid onto the sheets beneath him. 

He collapsed against the bed, his heartrate and breathing both fast and furious, out of control. A small sob worked its way up his throat and he gasped, "Jim," quietly, as hot tears filled his eyes. He raised one hand and dashed them away impatiently; he wasn't going to cry for something he'd never had--it was ridiculous. The kiss this afternoon, nice as it'd been, had been nothing more than a cover. There was absolutely no use in reading more into it than that. It would get him nothing but more heartache than he already had. 

**************************** 

Morning was heralded by dark skies and rain pelting down. 

"I hate this fucking state," Blair grumbled as he fixed coffee and breakfast. 

"Good morning to you, too," Jim nodded as he came down the stairs. 

"Hey, man. How you feel today?" 

"Weird. My sense of touch is way off right now." 

"In what way?" Blair turned the fire down beneath the eggs and glanced at his roommate in concern. 

"I have enough feeling to do stuff, but it's like before I got the heightened senses. I feel·normal. There's no texture, no depth. I can't distinguish anything." 

"What about the others?" Blair pursed his lips, thinking about this one. Was Jim about to short-circuit? 

"Hearing's down a little. Eyesight seems normal. Smell, gone. Taste, I haven't a clue. I haven't tried anything yet." Jim watched the concern on his partner's face grow. 

"Go brush your teeth and let me know what happens." Blair turned the eggs then removed the pan from the burner, trying to quell the shaking in his hands. 

God, he was tired. After the incredible masturbation scene he'd indulged in, he'd fallen asleep, but even so that had only afforded him about three hours of sleep. He woke up feeling hung-over and out of sorts. The weather outside wasn't helping and he kept having feelings of prescience, that something was going to happen; today was the day it would all come together or fall apart. 

"Chief?" 

"Yeah." Blair took a deep breath and turned to face Jim. 

"Taste seems normal--I mean, normal for heightened senses. It's the same as it always is." 

"That's good." Blair gave a shaky laugh. "I donât think you should go to the station today, Jim." 

"I have to. We have paperwork to do on yesterday's bust. I can't just blow things off because I'm not functioning like normal." 

Blair sighed and gestured Jim over to the table, scooping up the two plates of eggs and hashbrowns. "Then I'll go in with you and as soon as the paperwork is done, we come home and get to the bottom of this." 

Jim frowned at his partner. "You have a class, no, two classes to teach today." 

"So, I'll get someone to cover them for me. You need to have me around in case--anything happens." **You're the most important thing in my life, Jim! Can't you see that?** 

"If you're sure," Ellison didn't want to be too eager, but he wanted to have Blair near him. The depth of the dreams he'd had last night still lingered, in spite of his attempts to repress them. A soft, gentle touch caught his attention and he glanced down to see Blair's hand touch his. 

"I'm sure, big guy. You're more important to me than those classes." Sandburg's voice was lower than usual, almost husky. Jim looked up and caught those eyes with his, amazed at the depth of emotion he saw shining there.

"Blair?"

"Not now, Jim. We'll talk about all of it after we get the paperwork done."

Jim nodded his acquiescence and returned his attention to his breakfast, mind still whirling in circles. 

************************ 

Simon was waiting for them when they walked into the bullpen. "Ellison, Sandburg, my office," he hollered across the room. 

Jim shrugged and headed for the captain's office, Blair trailing unhappily in his wake. The longer they were here, the greater the chances that Jim would slip into that unaware, zone-like state that he was flirting with. 

"Let's wrap this up with Banks quick, Jim," he whispered. "We need to get you home." 

Jim nodded tersely, all points in his body screaming that something was wrong and likely to explode in his face in a hurry. 

"Sir," he began when they entered the office and closed the door.

"Later, Ellison. I want to know what the hell was going on with the two of you," the captain's furious look included both of them and Blair actually backed himself behind Jim a little. "We got a report from one of the suspects that the two of you were making out in that car like a couple of teenagers." 

Jim bristled at Simon's tone. Couldn't his old friend see that it was something he'd done as a precaution against (hopefully) appearing suspicious? "We were trying to stay out of the perps' line of sight, sir," he began respectfully. "When they spotted us just sitting there, I did the first thing I could think of to throw them off-track." 

"You couldn't have done something besides kissing Sandburg?" 

"Like what, sir?" 

"Dammit, Jim, I don't know! Anything!" 

"If it means anything, Simon, we both reported it to the officers who assisted as back-up." Jim's voice was cold as steel and Simon backed down, relaxing visibly. 

"It was just a cover, Captain," Blair added, moving from behind Jim now that the storm seemed to be passing. "It's not like there's anything going on between us." 

"Jesus, I should hope not," Banks' muttered under his breath. 

"And why is that, sir?" Jim questioned in the same cold tone. 

"What?" 

"I asked why that would be." 

"It would cause·trouble," Simon said diplomatically. Blair snorted at that and the captain turned and leveled a glower at him. "Zip it, Sandburg. The two of you could have opened a whole ugly can of worms with that little stunt. Just keep that in mind the next time you're on a stakeout, okay?" 

"Yessir." Jim cocked an eyebrow. "Anything else, sir?" 

"No, go on and get the paperwork done." Simon made a shooing motion toward the door. 

Jim turned but a touch on his arm from Blair stopped him. "There is one other thing, sir," the younger man began in a quiet voice. 

"Blair--" 

"No, we need to tell him, 'cause we need to go home." 

"What is it, Sandburg?" Simon looked at him with irritation in his eyes. 

"This·whatever it is with Jim's senses·is getting worse. He's only barely functioning this morning, Captain. I'd like permission after we've done the paperwork for the case to take him home and run some more tests. I think I know what the problem is, but I have to isolate it from other factors." 

"How 'barely functioning'?" Banks questioned, staring at Jim. 

Blair answered for him. "Touch, reduced to normal; hearing down-graded somewhat; smell non-functional; sight down-graded. The only sense he has that's still working at normal heightened levels is taste." **He's a walking, talking time-bomb waiting to explode·and if I don't figure it out soon, for sure, he just might.**  

"Go on, then," Simon replied in a long-suffering tone. "I'd hate to have to explain it if you suddenly went blind in the bullpen again." 

"Thanks, Captain." Both men answered nearly in unison, then headed out the door. 

Banks watched Blair's hand on Jim's back, gently guiding him, and shook his head, hoping that what he saw wasn't as obvious to everyone else out there. 

************************** 

Blair's head ached by the time they arrived home. Jim had lost all sense of touch twice while they were at the station; he'd also lost his hearing once on the way back to the loft. The last few days had served as a good lesson for both of them and Blair was driving when it happened. He pulled the truck over and held onto one of Jim's hands tightly, with the other resting against his pulse point once more until the bigger man began to slowly relax, coming out of the zone-out.  

Ellison was leaning back against the seat of the truck, eyes closed when they arrived at the loft. "What would I do without you, Chief?" he wondered out loud as he got out of the truck. 

Blair shrugged. "You'd have less work," he tried to joke. "No one in your face all the time." 

"That's not funny, Sandburg." 

"It's true though. C'mon, Jim, you can't deny that I disrupt your world. Think of how quiet it would be without me around." 

Jim shook his head but didn't pursue the subject. He followed Blair inside and sat down on the couch in his usual spot. Blair was going to run him through the wringer now and he wanted to be comfortable. He sat there for several minutes, just waiting quietly. At last he opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to see Blair sitting right in front of him, perched again on the coffee table. 

"Jim--we need to talk." 

"I thought we were going to do some tests." 

"We are, buddy. But we need to talk, first." 

"About what?" 

"You and me. Us." 

"What about us?" Jim frowned, not sure where Sandburg was going with this·and not sure he wanted to know. 

"You're zoning on *me*, Jim. What's wrong that's causing that sort of reaction?" 

"It's not you," he began hoarsely. "Well, maybe it is·I don't know. I've been having dreams." 

"What kind of dreams? For how long?" 

Jim leveled an indescipherable look at him. "Do you know, that my father was one of the most homophobic men I've ever come across? Once in a while I would wonder if something had happened to him when he was younger, because his hatred for gays was--" Jim shook his head, unable to come up with a word he felt appropriate. "Suffice it to say it was pretty rabid. He raised Stephen and I to never have anything to do with gays, 'queers' or 'faggots' as he used to call them, and would get unreasonably angry if he suspected one of us having anything to do with anyone with that lifestyle." 

Blair listened, fascinated. It wasn't often he got Jim to share anything meaningful about his past, and this went a long way toward explaining a lot of things. "Go on," he urged softly. 

"I've never had a problem with someone who was gay. It wasn't my thing, but it didn't bother me if it was someone elses's. I had several friends in college who were gay and they taught me that there was nothing different about them from me, other than their sexual preference. And as far as I'm concerned, as long as it's legal, both parties are consensual and no one gets hurt, it's each to his own. But lately," Jim's voice trailed off and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Blair leaned forward in concern, his hand resting gently on Jim's knee. 

The bigger man reached for it blindly, grasping it tightly when he found it. "Lately I've been having dreams. About·about·" 

"It's okay, Jim. If you can't talk about it now, we can talk about it later." 

"No," Ellison shook his head vehemently. "I need to do this now. I've been having dreams about·you and me. Intense dreams. We were--having sex." There, he'd said it. And so far, the world hadn't exploded in his face. So far. 

Blair tried to pull air into lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Jim had been dreaming about them? Having sex? He felt the hand grasping his own tighten further and squeezed in return. "S'okay, big guy," he murmured. "Just·taking it in." A thought occurred to him then. "Was this why you asked me if I'd ever been with other men?" 

"Partially," Jim admitted. "I don't know what to do about all this, Blair. I'm not·I don't want·" he broke off, unsure of how to say what he felt, without hurting Blair's feelings. "Are you attracted to me?" he asked finally, figuring maybe he could clue in and take it from there. 

His partner gave him an odd look. "Yeah, I am," he said quietly. "I haven't wanted to do or say anything, because I didn't want to upset you·and stuff like this generally ends up changing friendship·if not ending it, outright." 

Jim gave him an indignant look. "I can't believe you'd think I'd dump you as a friend over your sexual preferences." 

"I didn't say you would," Blair countered. "I just said that things usually change. Some people can't handle it and it would freak them out into next year. I never figured you'd react like that, but I did figure that you'd wonder then, if I was just being your friend, or wanting more." The younger man shook his head. "We're getting off track here, Jim," he stated firmly. "It bothers you, doesn't it? Having those dreams?" 

"Yeah. I've never thought of myself as gay; never had any desire to be with another man." **But he's not just 'another man' either,** his brain challenged. He stomped that feeling down. "I don't know what to do, or where to go with this," he admitted finally, staring down at the smaller hand he still held. 

"It doesn't have to *go* anywhere, Jim," Blair said. "We can go on like before. Regardless of my other feelings for you, you're still my best friend. I wouldn't trade that for anything, especially if it makes you uncomfortable. I can go both ways; I'm not strictly into men." 

"I didn't figure you were, unless all those women were just a good cover." The older man smiled for the first time since beginning this conversation. 

**No, but a lot of them were me trying to sublimate my feelings for you,** Blair's brain retorted. "Nah. I've always turned on to women. The guys came later, when I first got to college." 

"Have you·been with a lot of men?" **Why in the hell should it matter?** 

"No. A couple were just dating, nothing further. I've only actually had intercourse with one man; the other two were fooling around, like hand jobs and stuff like that." 

Jim felt his face flush hot at the thought of Blair having sex with another man; but whether it was in anger or because of the erotic image, he couldn't say. 

"I need to go lie down for a while," he finally managed, releasing Blair's hand and climbing to his feet. "My head is killing me. I'm gonna take a nap, try to get the headache to go away." 

"You do that, Jim. I'm gonna sit here and get some reading done. Let me know when you want to talk again, okay?" 

"Yeah. And Sandburg?" Jim turned back toward his friend. "Thanks, man." 

"No problem, Jim." Blair smiled at the bigger man, wishing he had the courage to give him a hug. Something inside him told him that would be rushing things just now. 

*************************** 

Jim lay on his bed, head pounding, heart racing. Downstairs he could hear Blair moving around and the sound of the stereo being turned on. **He's putting a CD on.** Hopefully it would be a mellow one; he wasn't sure he could handle anything too pounding right now. He closed his eyes, body tense, waiting for the music to begin. When it did, it surprised him. The lyrics surprised him. 

You want commitment Take a look into these eyes They burn with fire, just for you now Until the end of time I would do anything I'd beg, I'd steal, I'd die To have you in these arms tonight Baby I want you like the roses Want the rain You know I need you Like a poet needs the pain I would give anything My blood my love my life

If you were in these arms tonight I'd hold you I'd need you I'd get down on my knees for you And make everything alright If you were in these arms I'd love you I'd please you I'd tell you that I'd never leave you And love you till the end of time If you were in these arms tonight

We stared at the sun And we made a promise A promise this world would never blind us These are my words Our words were our songs Our songs are our prayers these prayers keep me strong It's what I believe If you were in these arms tonight

I'd hold you I'd need you I'd get down on my knees for you And make everything alright If you were in these arms I'd love you I'd please you I'd tell you that I'd never leave you And love you till the end of time If you were in these arms tonight

Your clothes are still scattered All over our room This old place still smells like Your cheap perfume Everything here reminds me of you And there's nothing that I Wouldn't do to be in your arms

And these were our words They keep me strong I'd hold you I'd need you I'd get down on my knees for you And make everything alright If you were in these arms I'd want you I'd please you I'd tell you that I'd never leave you And love you till the end of time If you were in these arms tonight

Was Blair trying to tell him something? He'd admitted to being attracted to him·did the feelings go deeper than that? And what about his feelings for his partner? Was it such a bad thing, to love another man·to love Blair? He sighed and rolled onto his side, wishing there was some way to reconcile friendship and love without bringing *that* kind of love into it. He wanted to love Blair like a lover, but didn't want to. Shit, things were confusing right now. He sighed again and closed his eyes, letting the sounds of the music below follow him into his dreams. 

***************************** 

**I don't believe this. I don't *fucking* believe this!** Blair paced the living room, his own thoughts and emotions in turmoil from his discussion with Jim. He should have known it wouldn't be something simple; nothing with them or between them ever was. The somewhat muted sounds of Bon Jovi followed him around the room, the song washing over him. He realized which track he'd automatically cued and cringed, wondering what Jim would think, if he heard it. **It's so true though. I'd give anything, do anything for you, Jim. I'd give anything to hold you, to love you, to make you mine. I'd be yours without you even having to ask; yours for the taking. Shit,** he snorted out loud, **I'm yours already. All you'd have to do is tell me you want me and I'd be there in a heartbeat.**

This afternoon had been a revealing one, for sure. In his wildest dreams he'd never imagined Jim sharing with him those particular thoughts and secrets. **No wonder the poor guy is so confused about the whole gay issue. With a dad like that·** He considered his own upbringing. Naomi had been very open about sexuality and sexual orientation. Blair tended to stay out of his mother's personal affairs, but he knew for a fact that she'd had at least one female lover; "Aunt" Melissa had lived with them for nearly two years and though at the time he'd been too young to realize that Naomi and Melissa were more than friends, now he could look back and see the signs there. Not that his mother had ever tried to hide anything--it wasn't her nature. When he'd gone to her the summer between his freshman and sophomore years in college and told her he'd fallen for a guy in English class she smiled and told him to have fun.

'Does this make me gay?' he'd asked.

'Would it bother you if it did, sweetie?' she'd countered.

'I don't know. I still like girls--a lot. But I like Tom, too.'

'Then do what feels right and good and don't worry about the rest of it,' she'd counseled. And he didn't. 

He and Tom had dated for nearly a semester, never going "all the way", but having a good time with what they did. It'd been almost a year after they split before he dated another man, and then there were two in a row that he did nothing *but* date, deciding that he didn't like them enough to do anything more than kiss. Then there was Brendan. Even now, four years later, thoughts of Brendan could make his heart beat a little faster. Brendan was his first real love, and the only guy he had out and out sex with. They'd broken it off by mutual agreement when Brendan landed a scholarship that took him out of the country. He still wondered occasionally how he was doing, but knew he wasn't in love with him. He'd given his heart completely to Jim Ellison over a year ago. 

Blair sighed and stretched out on the couch. His head still hurt too. Maybe he'd take a little nap and then he and Jim could talk some more when they were both refreshed. 

***************************** 

"Make love to me," was the soft whisper in his ear. "Please, Jim, I want to feel you·touch you·hold you. Do it, baby, love me." 

"Yes," he breathed, bending his head to kiss lips already swollen from previous kisses. "You're mine, Blair. I'm going to take you and use you and you're going to be mine forever·" He thrust into the smaller body under him, felt the heaviness in his balls signalling his release. Blair's body writhed beneath him, his hard cock pressing into Jim's stomach. He shifted position and reached between them to stroke it roughly in time with his thrusts. "Mine, Blair·you're mine and no one else's, forever," he growled.

"Oh, god·yes·yours, baby·I love you, Jim·" 

"I love you too, babe·so much·" he buried his face in silken curls, inhaling deeply the musky scent of sex and his guide, the combination a heady, intoxicating one. 

"Do you love me? Do you, Jim?" The image shifted suddenly and he wasn't making love to Blair any longer, he was staring at him from across the room. 

"I·don't know. It's so hard·so complicated." 

"It doesn't have to be, you know. It's as simple as forgetting gender and loving the person for themselves, not what they are." 

"I'm not sure if I can." 

"True love doesn't happen often. We can have that--but you have to let go to do it."

"No. I don't think--" The image of Blair wavered, then disappeared·and the silence around him grew. He shifted, uncomfortable, waiting for the image to return. The darkness and silence around him expanded and he realized something was very wrong.

"BLAIR!!!!" 

************************** 

Sandburg heard the pain-filled roar downstairs and nearly broke his neck leaping off the couch. 

"Jim? What's wrong, man?" He moved to the foot of the stairs and peered up. He could see Jim standing by the side of his bed, hands covering his eyes, shaking his head. "Jim?" Could sight *and* sound be gone? 

"Blair--help me! Please·please·" the last word was nearly a whimper and Blair felt the bands around his heart tighten. 

"I'm coming," he whispered, knowing Jim couldn't hear him. He headed up the stairs and found his sentinel now kneeling beside the bed, shaking his head, rubbing at his eyes. 

"Blair·" it was a whisper of pain and it broke his heart. He stretched a hand out to grasp Jim's, but the older man didn't react. In fact, he didn't seem to be registering at all that Blair was now kneeling next to him. 

"Jim--I'm here, buddy. I'm here." He held the larger man's hand to his neck, hoping that the pulse would help calm him; there was no reaction. **Could touch be gone as well? And possibly scent? What the hell set him off? How can I reach him?** Taste. Even as he thought it, he realized that the only chance he had of getting through to Jim was by taste--to kiss him. Jim knew now what he tasted like, he should recognize it. Hopefully would recognize it. Holding a prayer firmly in his mind, Blair leaned forward and sealed his mouth over Jim's, opening up to let his tongue flick against the warm lips he was touching. 

Miraculously the lips under his opened, and Jim's tongue flicked out to touch his. He swallowed a groan as the invader swept through his mouth, tasting him fully, sliding tongue against tongue in a wild and sexy duel. 

He lost himself in the kiss, startling when large warm hands raised to tangle in his hair and cup his head, drawing him closer. He broke away from the kiss and whispered, "Jim?" 

"Yeah," was the hoarse answer before his mouth was taken again in a fiery joining that should have produced sparks. 

*************************** 

He was alone in a void. There was no sound, no sight, no scent, nothing. He'd been dreaming about Blair; about he and Blair making love. Pledging to one another, loving one another. Then Blair had been different, asking if he really did love him. He'd answered uncertainly, still not able to completely face his feelings·and wound up alone, standing here in this void.

Was that what this was all about? Perhaps some way of his spirit guide's to show him how much he needed Blair, in all ways? That he truly did love him, gender be damned? Maybe he was getting too hung up on the whole gay versus hetero issue. It wasn't what sex they were that was important, it was the fact that they loved each other.

But loving was one thing; being *in* love was something else. Was he in love with Blair? Could he reach a little further to get past his upbringing and admit that he was in love with his partner? How hard could it be? Just·a little·further--

Blair's name escaped his lips. He called out for him, but whether he made any sound he didn't know. He couldn't hear, see or feel. He couldn't smell his guide, didn't know if he was coming. How would he know? What would happen to him if he stayed in this place for too long? He couldn't get out alone, and that thought terrified him. He called again, praying that Blair could hear him; could find a way to help him. **Please, God. I do·love him. Please, someone help me·Blair·** 

What was that? His lips tingled. A familiar flavor; a taste of--his guide? Was that his guide he was tasting? He opened his mouth further and tentatively reached out with his tongue, shuddering with surprise at the warm mouth he encountered. Lush, full lips protecting a warm, wet cavern that was filled with the sweet essence of his guide. A slick tongue brushed over his and his taste buds exploded, along with scent and sound. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the spicy, crisp scent that signaled "Blair" to him. Soft whimpers and a low groan filled his ears and he moaned in reply, moving his arms up to tangle his fingers through curls that were too sensuous to stand, cupping the finely-shaped skull in his hands. 

**I'm back,** he thought as all his senses slammed into place. Blair pulled away from him and whispered his name. He took long enough to answer a 'yeah' before delving back into the sweetness and heat before him. 

"I love you," he whispered against Blair's neck, kissing his way across to a tempting earlobe. "I was a fool to try and deny it·" 

"Shhh--it's okay, Jim." Blair arched his head back, his body shuddering from the feel of Jim's lips traveling up and down his throat. "I love you too, big guy. It's okay." 

Jim shivered when Blair's lips touched his forehead. "No, it's not okay. I nearly lost it--just because of preconceived ideas of--" 

Blair leaned back in Jim's embrace and smiled at him. "It's *okay*," he repeated. "I really do understand, Jim. It was a helluva shock for me, the first time I turned on to a guy, and *my* upbringing was a lot more liberal than yours was." 

The larger man buried his face in soft auburn curls and sighed. "I hope I can do this," he muttered. "I want you·want to·but I don't know·" 

"We'll take it as slow as you need us to, babe," Blair soothed in his guide's voice. "Nothing you don't want to do, until you want to. I want you comfortable with loving me." 

"You'll help me? Show me--what to do?" 

"Count on it," was the throaty reply, followed with a sexy smile. Jim felt his heart race a little faster. 

"The bed will be more comfortable," he began, shifting to stand up.

"You want to--now?"

"I've wanted you for weeks, Sandburg," Jim growled in a low voice, pulling the lithe body up. "I might have only wanted you in my dreams--or only been willing to admit it in my dreams, but the results were pretty much the same. I need you. Need to feel you, make you mine."

"Oh, yeah," Blair breathed, his own pulse beginning to quicken. He leaned into Jim, rubbing against the hard body.

"What do I do?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable doing. It's not unlike making love to a woman--just some of the body parts are different."

"I think·I want to kiss you again."

"Then kiss me--" Blair's answer was swallowed by warm lips opening his, a hot tongue plunging into explore. He sighed and leaned into the kiss, pulling Jim as close as he could manage.

Lips and teeth began an exploration then, moving from his mouth to his jawbone then over to his ear. The younger man sucked his breath in sharply when the first nips pinched the skin on his neck; when Jim covered the area with a hard sucking kiss he moaned and arched, tilting his head to give his lover better access to the tender areas.

"You like that?" Jim questioned in a rough whisper.

"Oh, yeah·God, yes." Blair swallowed another moan when a hot tongue licked across the stinging areas, soothing some of the slight pain. He snaked a hand out to rub his thumb across Jim's nipples, delighting in the quiet groans that came from the older man.

"Too many clothes," Jim muttered, stepping back to survey his handiwork. He smirked at Blair and the smaller man raised a hand to the still-stinging welt on his neck

"You gave me a hickey."

"Yep." Jim smirked again. "You look good with my mark on you."

"Possessive, eh?"

"Mmhmm, yes," Jim muttered as he began unbuttoning Blair's shirt. "I'm very uncertain about a lot of this·but I trust you and I love you·and I need you. That song you were playing earlier--"

Blair unzipped Jim's pants, helping the older man to get their clothes off them. "Bon Jovi. 'In These Arms'. I love the song--it's kind of how I feel about you. How I've felt about you for a while."

"It fits." Jim pulled his own shirt off and stood back to shuck his jeans off. He watched Blair, eyes growing hot at the wanton sensuality in his partner. Totally uninhibited, Blair undid his jeans and pushed them down, an awkward but sexy little striptease. He stood back up, erection swaying proudly in the late afternoon light. "You're beautiful, Blair," Jim whispered, a little awed at the beauty of the man standing before him.

Sandburg eyed the broad expanse of muscled chest and arms before him and smiled. "So're you. Good enough to eat, I think." He leaned forward and licked a pink nipple. Jim groaned loudly and arched into his mouth. "I take it touch is back completely," he grinned before sucking the tempting little bit into his mouth.

"God·yes·" Jim panted. Blair moved across, licking the entire way, to suck the other little bud into his mouth. Jim groaned again as hot and wet surrounded him, pulling on him, sending tendrils of pleasure spiking through his body. "Want to·do you·" he managed, pushing Blair's head off him.

His lover moved onto the bed and sprawled across the sheets, smiling at him. "I'm all yours, babe."

Jim pounced with a growl, mouth moving up and down and around, licking and sucking, tasting every inch of that glorious body, starting with Blair's face and moving down.

He licked across the flat nipples, hard little buds rising under the careful ministrations of his tongue. He drew each point into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then increasing the pressure and scoring them carefully with his teeth. He laved each one repeatedly until he could feel the blood throbbing through the engorged tissue and heard Blair's broken gasps as the flesh became highly sensitized to his touch. The nipple with the gold ring threaded through it drew his attention again and he ran his tongue across the gleaming metal that was warm from its position to Blair's body. Another whimper caught his attention when he brushed his tongue across the flat portion of the nipple.

"You like that, don't you? It's making you hot."

"How--how can you t-tell?" Blair gasped, arching into the hot mouth that was teasing him so badly.

"The sounds you're making. Sexy little noises. God, Blair!" Jim raised his head back up to stare into Sandburg's eyes, noting the dilated pupils, the rapid, harsh rise-and-fall of the younger man's chest.

"It's you, lover, you're making me hot," Blair managed to rasp, drawing Jim's head back down to him. He curled his fingers around the bigger man's head, holding him close.

"I want to taste all of you," Jim muttered against his stomach, smiling when Sandburg wiggled from the touch to his highly sensitive skin.

"W-what do you want to d-do?"

Jim licked across each rib, returning once more to the gleaming ring. He took it gently between his teeth and tugged, eyes widening at Blair's harsh cry. "Blair?"

"Oh, God," the younger man gasped. "Oh, man, if you do that again I won't be responsible for my actions·"

"Got you close, huh?" Jim pulled back and considered the swollen nipples; hard, tight little buds that were fairly pulsing with heat.

"Oh, man," he moaned again as Jim's tongue caressed him. "More," he managed to moan. 

Jim licked lower, stopping when he came to Blair's engorged penis. He reached out and touched the shaft, running one finger up and down, stroking lightly. Blair groaned at the touch. "You don't have·to do anything·"  

"I want to·I just don't know what to do." 

Blair took a deep breath and tried to regain a little of his shattered control. "Do whatever feels right," he said quietly. "Why don't you come back up here and we'll touch each other," he suggested in a soft voice. "I want to touch you, too, Jim."

Ellison moved back up to where he was more-or-less level with Blair, then they shifted until they were on their sides facing each other, bodies stretched out, cocks brushing against one another. Jim groaned loudly when Blair grasped his thick shaft in one hand, the heat of Blair's hand seeming to increase the heat swirling outward from his core. Nimble, knowledgeable fingers stroked him, then a thumb smoothed across his cockhead, rubbing through the pre-ejaculate gathered there. Eyes fixed on his partner, Jim watched Blair bring his thumb up to his mouth and suck it in, taking Jim's fluid into his body. He shuddered with arousal at the sight and lowered his own hand to stroke Blair's cock.

His lover was slick with pre-ejaculate as well, cock swollen and weeping copiously. Blair shivered in his arms as he trailed his fingers up and down, moving over the slick head, then back down the shaft, smoothing the liquid into the hot, silky skin. He wrapped his fist around Blair and began stroking, slowly at first, then gaining speed.

"More," Blair groaned against his mouth when he claimed it in a fierce kiss. "Want to feel you against me·"

Jim let go of the pulsating organ and pulled Blair on top of him, their bodies rubbing together frantically. Blair leaned over and sucked a nipple into his mouth and Jim arched against the smaller body, his seed releasing in several hard spurts. Blair sighed when he felt the wetness against his skin and increased his motions, the slickness from Jim's cum smoothing his way. He grunted as his orgasm welled up in him, then shoved himself against Jim's groin, his own fluid mixing with his lover's.

"You're incredible. That was incredible." Jim whispered against Blair's neck, his nose nuzzling the limp curls. The younger man had just fallen against him, his breathing harsh, heartbeat fast. Jim cuddled him close while they came down from their high, delighting in the feel of this lean body against his. **What I would have missed out on can't even be measured,** he decided, leaning in to gently kiss Blair's ear. "You still with me, baby?"

"Yeah," Blair sighed, sounding sleepy and content. "Man, I love you." He pushed himself up, studied Jim carefully. "You okay with this? I didn't want to do too much too fast--"

"Everything was fine, Chief. Everything." He pulled Blair back down against him, holding him close. &qu