"So what am I supposed to do? Get it Off again?" The long suffering voice of a tired Sentinel trying to watch the latest Jags-game floated through the loft. He would have never admitted it - not to his test-loving Guide at least - but Jim could almost feel the energy emanating from the small ex-spare room that hosted now a certain grad-student. And he loved that kind of energy. It was like connecting with life. The tall man sighed and turned back to the tv-set. The Jags had just scored and he hadn't seen it. Damned.

"No, I mean it. Come see for yourself; it's just great. I mean, not 'cause I did it but 'cause it's such an opportunity. Come on, take a look..." Blair started to wheedle - he sounded like the little kid he sometimes still seemed to be.

With another sigh Jim got up, straightened the waistband of his sweatpants, smoothed his t-shirt and pushed open the french doors. The room was the picture of systematic chaos. Piles of books , papers, computer-printouts and files were covering the small bed. In the far corner was another stack of books. On the desk were a bundle of tests to be graded but Sandburg - not only unaware of the discomfort his mess caused in the other man, but also obviously feeling at home in this kind of disorder - was staring at his laptop.

"Look, I've been searching the net for information about Peru and then checked if it's already on - and it is. Just take a look, tell me if you like it. Please Jim; Oh, there you are- look"

What Jim saw was a site on the net, background a picture of the lush undergrowth of a rainforest, with bright yellow letters promising more information about animals and plants in danger of extinction. Intrigued, Jim clicked as ordered by a *Click here* button to find himself on another site featuring the computer-designed picture of a rainforest including various plants and animals technically altered until they could be easily detected even by an untrained eye. When the mouse brushed over one of those altered spots, it showed to be clickable, too. Jim couldn't resist. He knew that he was drawn into this game as each and every kid he knew was drawn into playing a gameboy but hey, then the net sometimes was nothing more than a gameboy for grownups, wasn't it. He signed his surrender to netsurfing by clicking again pointing at one of the outlined plants - and found himself drawn into a funny description of said plant, it's place in the rainforest, it's probable utility in modern medicine and it's proven utability in tribal medicine. Then came a more scientific portrayal including a scetch, latin name and native name. Awesome.

He had been hovering over Blair to get access to the mouse attached to the laptop. Now he looked down at his roomie, the unknown person, who stared up at him, eyes wide, for once quiet but quivering to get an answer out of his not so very talkative friend.

"You mean, you did that Sandburg?"

"Yeah; and it's been on the net for maybe an hour; I've been checking regularly. I wanted to show it to you as soon as it was published. Do you like it?"

"That had to have been a hell of a lot of work. When did you find the time to do it? I mean, I think, what I want to say is that this is great - absolutely terrific." He looked back at the screen, clicked back to the jungle picture and concentrated on the various shades of green. He missed the look of anticipation the younger man showed on his expressive face. Then Jim had found what he was looking for: A small, two-leafed plant that seemed to grow out of the roots of one of the large trees. He pushed the mouse almost hesitantly til it covered the tiny plant and was surprised when he found it clickable.

"This had saved my life after the crash in Peru..." Jim's voice trailed off when he clicked and read the text. The scientific part said it was extinct but for a small part of the jungle and that the natives used it to lessen pain and to trigger the immune-system to fight diseases...

"I know, Jim. You told me, remember? When Incacha died, you told me how he saved your life with a concoction when you were injured. Then I started to search and to gather information. And man, it was awesome - I finally found help at the botanical gardens, cause I only had your description of that plant and I *really* wanted to know what that was. So - " while talking, his hand had covered Jim's which was still curled around the mouse.

"You mean - you did that for me?"

"Well, you were the .. release .. kind of.. but then I found out so much more than I was looking for, I decided that other people should know, too. You do like it, don't you?" His eager eyes were shining when he looked up to his Sentinel for approval.

And approval he got. "It's marvellous. I love it. But you didn't attach your name - no one will know that's your site. Can you add it or something?"

"The name's not important. I know I did it. That's enough- and now you know, too" the last was mumbled almost too low even for Sentinel hearing, but Jim picked it up. Careful as not to dislodge the hand that still covered his hand over the mouse, he grabbed the sitting man with his free hand in an awkward half-embrace and squeezed him, rough, pressing him close to his body. He didn't even try to ignore the tingling that woke at the brief touch of their bodies. When tousling Blair's silken curls he somehow broke the intimacy of the moment. The younger man lifted his hand from Jim's and looked up at the tall detective with a still flushed face:

"You *did* like it!" and he flashed one of those brilliant smiles that had all the females of the department camping out in major crimes at the oddest times. Jim found himself grinning back.

"I *really* like it. I think it's great. And you should be rewarded. How 'bout chinese food. My treat?"

"Yeaaaahh" With an international victory gesture Blair slipped into his new sneakers.

When Blair entered the bullpen after a long, exhausting day spent with inanimated objects called students, he was greeted by cheers.

"Hey, I didn't know you did HTMLL-writing. I tried once. Gave up after an hour", Brown was clearly impressed.

"Jim said, you altered those pictures with a computer program. Is it hard to learn? I'd like to do such stuff with my own pictures, you know" Rafe's blush made it clear to which kind of pictures he was referring.

By the time Blair had made it to Jim's desk, he was a walking question mark. The detective held up his hands in surrender.

"I couldn't resist. I had to show them your site. Now the artist has to live with the applause. Forgive me?"

Before Blair could answer, Simon stepped out of the office: "Sandburg; Uhm, Blair, uhm, Darryl has some problems with his botanical class - and I had hoped, uhm , could you help him a bit..."

An hour later, all site-related questions covered, Blair took a seat at his partner's desk: "Why?"

Defensively: "I was bragging. I'm proud of my sharp-witted partner who puts up with an ex-military cop. I mean - most of the guys here think the internet is magic. And now my best friend has posted his own site. And a great one, too." By that time Blair was furiously blushing, and he hated that feeling, and mumbled something that sounded like a very choked "Thank you".

They started to work on their cases.

"Blair, Hi, I found your homepage on the net. It's great! Where did you come up with all that information? You got to tell me more about it..." - She was tall, redhaired, brainy, beautiful and he had known that this would impress her.

"Moira..."

"No, don't Moira me. I'm Fox to you..."

"Fox? Like in the X-files?" he laughed.

"I was Fox long before Mr Moulder happened to be invented." She tugged seductively at one of her long red locks. "Now, you got time this afternoon? I really like to know more about ... the rainforest."

She was hesitating on exactly the right place in the sentence. Blair sighed appreciatively.

"Of course! Meet me in my office at five..." She smiled and sauntered away, totally missing his selfsatisfied smile. Now he just had to ask Jim to let him off the hook of cooking tonight. And, as a matter of fact, getting laid would ease off some of the tension his poor body had developed lately. The night promised to be great fun.

Ellison was sitting in front of the TV-set watching some crime-story that had more holes than one of Blair's old socks. Speaking of Blair, Jim admitted he wasn't really watching TV. He was just sortof staring at the screen, listening to the cars that passed by on the streets down below and looking at the clock. Which told him exactly how stupid this was, cause at ten o'clock the kid was *not* expected to be home from a hot date. Jim sighed - get a life - he should have called Kathie from archive. She always found an excuse to be at the bullpen when he was there, too. Nice girl; brunette, upturned nose, freckles; made her look younger than the 34 years she actually was. She had lost weight, too, after her divorce last year.

That's Blairs heartbeat. Racing - the kid's frightened). Jim was at the loft-door and opening it before Blair was able to put out his key. (..or running) "I didn't expect you home so early. You got dumped?"

"That's why you were hovering at the door waiting for me to come home, Big Guy?"

"Your heartbeat is racing a mile a minute. I thought you were in panic. Sorry that I cared"

Blair stared at his big tough roommate, then listened to his still frantic heartbeat, turned and with deliberate care closed the door. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't want to snap your head off like that. I just had a lousy evening and I wanted to show you something. I mean, you're a cop, right. You have to do something against this." He gestured with his laptop, then took off into his room and connected it with the phone. While he started the machine and the internet-programm, he kept talking, taking calming breaths to steady his heart.

"See, Fox - she is fun to be with. She doesn't look for a serious relationship, neither do I, so we get together from time to time. It's always great. This time she was introducing me to one of the hot spots on the net. You know? Beautiful babes in all states of undress, posing erotically - it can be a turn-on." Blair saw Jim's eyebrows meet the beginnings of his hair - and Jim's hair was beginning waay back... "Yeah, well, Playboy and Penthouse have sites on the net and we were just reading the literary stories...Anyway - we clicked another URL " And at Jim's blank look "Uhm, address, Jim, we clicked another address. And it was really gross."

"Well, Blair, cheap shots of some kind of women in certain poses can gross you out; That's a risk you take by surfing those sites; " Jim somehow hated to sound that ... paternal.

"No, it was THIS we found". As if on cue a site opened on the net. Three children, none of them older than maybe five or six, dressed in bathing suites and with a haunted look in their eyes, seemed to look at the customer. The two girls and the boy were standing in a row an a filthy rug in a room where no walls were to be seen on the picture. "You don't get any much further. Click on a child, you get snapshots of the kid alone. Plus a postal address where you can order and pay for more - juicier pictures. Jim, this is horrible. You have to do something. Those kids are molested. It's abuse. The perps that do this should do a lifesentence. They have destroyed the lives of these children."

Blair's heart was racing again and Jim had to fight an attack of nausea. Sandburg had been right. This was horrible and gross. The detective looked at his watch - again.

"Look, Blair, it's eleven. Sorensen is on duty in vice. I'll call him, we show him your findings. They'll know what to do with this information. It's no case for Major Crimes, after all. Sorensen might know the snitches to probe deep and get them."

But it wasn't that easy. Sorensen took one look at Blair's running laptop, sighed and helped himself to another loaf of the pizza that had been Jim's excuse to visit Vice. Then he motioned Ellison and Sandburg to his computer. Within the next five minutes he called one site after another, showing pictures of children, teens, males, females, all barely dressed.

"You can eat while watching this?" Blair's shocked voice rang accusingly through the silence. Sorensen swallowed apologetically.

"I'm not watching this. It would gross me out. I just wanna show you that the departement is up to date. But it's like emptying Cascade's sewage treatment plant with a teaspoon. We usually put in an order for more pictures, then observe the postal address , follow the person who comes to take the order to their apartement and arrest everyone. Last week it was a couple who sold pics of their own three children.

"But there's almost no way to get the big providers. They have their own server - which is just some sort of power-pc - and they handle orders and payment via computer-software and creditcard. When we finally are able to locate them, they pack their hardware and are off to a different address, a different town. That's when I want some sort of censorship on the net. I want to have at least one tool to fight these bastards." Sorensen suddenly looked much older. He wiped his hand on his jean before he pointed at a framed picture that was standing at his desk, facing away from the gruesome pictures on the computer screen.

"That's my son. He's five and a half now. I try to make his life happy. But every time I come home I find myself telling him that he's not allowed to ever talk to strangers, that it's dangerous out there and that he should not leave mommy's side when they go shopping. I'm slowly turning into a paranoid idiot and I know it." The big man shrugged, then took a sip of his mineral water.

"Your address is a new one. I also don't recognize the children. But I promise: We'll work on it."

"That's all you can do? Work on it? There has to be more to it..." Blair was incredulous.

"Yeah, well, I'll send copies of our progress to Ellison; OK, Jim? But it'll take some time and I can't promise anything..."

Back in the truck it took James Ellison almost ten minutes till he reacted to the constant mutterings of Blair Sandburg. The young man had started his soft tirade as soon as they had left Vice and hadn't stopped for a second. The detective marvelled at the fact that the kid didn't seem to take a breath.

"Blair" The expressive hands of the student kept on dancing through the air illustrating a point not even a Sentinel was able to hear.

"Blair"

"What?"

"Calm down. Please."

"Why should I? So that you don't have to be reminded of those poor kids?"

"No. When we arrive at home I expect you to be my Guide. Maybe, if I concentrate real hard, I'll be able to see something others might not. Remember the True-Crime-team and their equipment? Well, this time I'll try to be the equipment."

"You'll do that? Really?"The sudden hope that flared across Blair's expressive features was almost comical. "But it's not even your case!"

"If I'm really able to come up with something new, do you think Sorensen will be mad at us? I think he'll owe us."

"No, he'll owe you. Thank you Jim; You're really great about this."

"Don't underestimate your part in this investigation. After all, you are my shaman. So, shaman me!" Jim cast a grinning glance at his tousled partner who had the good grace to blush a little, then turned and flashed him a smile for the first time this evening.

For the next three quarters of an hour Blair hovered at his Sentinel's side alternately guiding the big man into a near trance and trying to calm himself with breathing exercises. He knew hero worship when he saw it and boy, today he didn't even need a mirror. Ellison was concentrating so hard not even the small beads of sweat that kept running into his eyes disturbed him. And Blair had a hard time not to think of licking that sweat off this gorgeous body. ( I knew why I wanted to get laid tonight...)

And they were successful: It was not much, but Jim discerned in differently colored pixels the light of a green neon sign which could be heart-shaped shining through a high window of the large room in which the horrible pictures had been taken. In a far corner he detected something that could be the edge of a matress indicating that the children were kept there and not only brought there for the terrible photo-sessions.

When Blair finally brought Jim back, both men were exhausted. It was almost two o 'clock in the morning. With a groan Jim sank back into the couch, resting his aching head, eyes squeezed shut in the painfully bright artificial light. It took him ages, years, well maybe just minutes, to realize that Blair had straddled him and was now massaging his shoulders, his neck and as far down his back as the younger man could reach without actually embracing him. The light had been dimmed and the warmth that oozed from Blair's clever hands soothed the Sentinel and made him feel comfortable despite the throbbing in his head. Blair straddling him, the headache slowly subsiding, Blair's hands, Blair's scent, Blair...

Blair could not help himself. Breathing helped only as long as he was not in contact with this man. But now he was straddling Jim, massaging that chorded neck, broad shoulders, feeling the warmth of Jim's skin, Jim's scent, Jim...

Their eyes met at exactly the same heartbeat and for just this heartbeat and the following the world and time stopped and they recognized their own questions in the eyes of the other. Then Blair cleared his throat:

"Feeling better, big Guy? You did it, you know that?" and his voice was like silk or honey.

"Yeah; I'm feeling much better. You helped" and it seemed to be a new title although it was just a statement made in a voice that sounded like the deep rumbling growl of a big black cat...

Blair's breath caught and the student got up to make some tea. The spell was somehow broken, but the hands of the shaman kept shaking when he put the mug of tea down on the table in front of his Sentinel.

Morning came too soon. The tea had helped Ellison to relax into sleep but disturbing dreams about his Guide running by his side through some unknown jungle, keeping pace until he suddenly vanished in a blinding lightning had made his rest an uneasy one.

Jim's breakfast was waiting for him - as he was used to it - but Blair was grumpy and yawny and had deep black shadows under his eyes.

"We are a pathetic pair. I can see as much even without Sentinel senses." Jim observed with a wry smile and shoved a load of ham and eggs onto his fork and into his mouth until he realized his breakfast as the cholesterol-fest it was.

"You outdid yourself here, Chief. That's great!" There was a little more enthusiasm coloring Jim's voice.

"It's a way to say Thank you." And at Jim's questioning look: "Couldn't sleep much last night. I kept thinking, when you let me stay with you, at your home, I was living in a warehouse. Much the same as we are looking for now. I lived next to a drug lab. I could've easily lived next door to some of the perps who abuse helpless innocent children. And most probably I wouldn't even have known it. So I want to say Thank you for making me see those things."

"Hey, guppy, don't do this to me. I keep feeling sorry that you have to deal with all that filth; physically and emotionally. I fear the day when you'll lose your exuberance for good because of me and my job. Don't thank me for this...."

Breakfast forgotten, Jim reached over the table with one hand, his long fingers closing over Blair's upper arm, slowly caressing the muscles that twitched at the touch.

Blair shook his head No, curls flying, one lock accidentally brushing over Jim's hand that involuntarily tightened it's grip.

"No, you don't see, Jim: The filth is there. It doesn't go away by ignoring it or by not knowing about it. On the contrary - it spreads the faster the longer you look away. So I think I'm only losing my naivite, maybe grow up a bit." Jim's eyes grew wide in a mock interpretation of shock. "Well, not too much, Big Guy. And now you better eat all that cholesterol- and fat-laden poison I cannot believe I prepared for you. It'll be the last junk-food for a long time coming - I want you to live and not die of a heart attack."

"You're the only one I know who is able to turn a thank you into an accusation. " Reluctantly Jim let go of Blair's arm. They shared a companionable grin that was a little more than just companionable.

At the bullpen Blair started a computer-search for a heartshaped green neon sign/warehouse and leaned back to wait for results thus getting closer to Jim when the detective turned his head: "You wanna coffee?"

Blair's smile was all but radiant: "Yes, that be great!"

Jim reached over to place both their mugs into Blair's hands. "Could you fetch me a cup, too? One suger, no milk!"

Blair was speechless, but only for seconds. "Big, macho, butch copbrute" he snickered on his way to the coffee-machine.

"Sandburg, Ellison, my office"

Full cups still in his hands Blair made an eager turn and headed for Bank's office. "His master's voice" he muttered for Sentinel ears only and handed over Jim's coffee, black, one sugar. Because even if there might be a reason for a major payback on the horizon, you don't fiddle with a Sentinel's coffee.

Captain Banks was hunched behind his desk. He rubbed the bridge of his nose while he chewed on an unlit cigar. "There's a girl missing."

"But Missing Persons is on fifth floor. I know Diana." Blair's mouth snapped shut at Banks' accusatory stare and the student tried to hide behind his mug until his Blessed Protektor ignited protection mode and took a half-step forward to cover his misguided Guide.

"I know where Missing Persons is, Sandburg. I happen to work in this buiilding for almost ten years. The girl is Candice Thomas, she's six and she's the best friend of the Mayors granddaughter; That's why my best team is assigned to this case. Which is you. Here's the file. The girl has been missing for only two hours, so there's still a possibility that she's just with another friend. Her father had brought her to school, but after one hour she disappeared. So I want you to start the search at her school."

"Did anybody call, Sir?"

"Not yet, Ellison"

They had lost Blair who emerged from behind a marvellously broad back to cast questioning glances. Banks sighed long suffering: "No, a possible kidnapper has not yet called but we are monitoring the phones at school and at the Thomas' home, Sandburg. Now get out of here..."

When they arrived at school the Sentinel was almost knocked out cold by the noise. Imagine twohundred kids and recess. Blair took one look at his tall partner, saw the Muscle dance in that prominent jaw and didn't even need to hear the wince to shudder sympathetically. To add to that almost crippling torture the schoolbell started to ring. Miraculously within two minutes all was calm and Jim took the first breath since they arrived.

The dean was more than helpful. "It happens sometimes, that a child just leaves for an hour or so. I mean we *are* a school for specially gifted children." Her pride at usually not needing strict regulations shone through her voice, as she smoothed back a strand of her long blond hair. "We have classes, but when a child gets bored, they're allowed to leave as long as they stay within school-boundaries. If it happens more than twice, We try to find that child a class that's more appealing to them. But it had never happened with Candice. And Mathematics was her favourite. She would never have missed it on purpose. Her best friend"

"The mayor's granddaughter?"

"Oh, you've heard about that already, detective? Well, her best friend might know something but she refused to talk to me. If you want to, you may talk to her, but I don't think you'll be successful."

While summoning the little girl, she completely missed the glance Blair and Jim shared. When the small girl with the funny pony-tails entered the Dean's office, the tall detective stepped back almost melting into one of the corners.

"Sarah, this is..." puzzled at the obvious retreat of the tall, intimidating detective, the dean stopped in midsentence.

"Hi, Sarah, I'm Blair" he hunched in front of the little girl. She looked at him solemnly.

"You're hair is almost as long as mine." She clearly copied the sentiments of her grandfather who featured a brushcut like Jim's out of sheer conviction.

Noone could resist Blair's megawatt-smile. "Yeah, sometimes I even braid it. But not today."

Sarah smiled back. "But you're a boy"

"So?"

"Oh..." Her scrutiny showed why she was at a school for gifted children.

"Sarah, it's about Candice. Would you like to help us find her? I'm sure you could, now couldn't you?"

"Maybe..." but she wasn't venturing more, instead grabbed one of the shells of the leather necklace Blair had thought appropriate to wear at the bullpen to add another notch of individuality to his person. "That's nice."

"It's been a gift." Jim flinched at Blair's words. They had been at a fair some weeks ago and Blair had treated him to hotdogs and confectionary and had run out of money before he saw the necklace. So Jim had bought it for him. But what the hell did he want with this story right now?

Blair still concentrated on the little girl that fingered the shell. When she finally looked questioningly into his eyes again, he smiled:

"There is this tribe in Peru, where I lived for some months. I'm an anthropologist, you know, I study people."

"Your not with the police" A statement.

"No." not really a lie. "This tribe, you know, their chief gave it to me, because I found myself a real good hiding place. That is important cause when there's danger, all the tribespeople have to go hide. Do you have a special hiding place?"

Jim could not have said, who was the more surprised, he or the dean, when the small girl nodded and said "If I show you, do I get the necklace?"

And then Blair surprised the hell out of his big detective-partner when he answered: "No, cause the person who gave it to me is real special to me and this is something that reminds me of him. But I promise I come back and present you with a necklace of your own, so that you get a special one too."

The girl nodded, her pony-tails bobbing in time. "It's good that you keep it, then." She cocked her head, then turned to the corner where Jim tried to blend in with the wallpaint in an attempt not to disturb the small girl. "He can come with us." Clearly little miss Sarah had inherited her grandfather's authority. They left, a stunned speechless dean sitting at her desk.

The girl lead them to the far corner of the schoolyard, where bushes and trees feigned to be a forest. In the middle was a small clearing where the remains of a pavillion on wooden groundwork was rotting away undisturbed.

"We don't go into the hut, cause it's dangerous. But sometimes during recess we hide behind it." No, of course; bright little Sarah would not go into the creaking building, neither would Candice.

Jim extended his hearing, for once consciously tuning out the steady thump-thump of his Guide and let himself be filled by the more rapid beating of Sarah's heart. This was the rhythm he should be looking for but what he found was a more sluggish beat he at first dismissed as the sounds of an animal nearby. But then he zoomed in on the sound that seemed to come from underneath the foundation of the pavillion. Although he piggypacked sight with hearing, like Blair had taught him, he could see nothing. Only the sweet sickening smell of ether tickled his sensitive nose.

He turned to Blair, then hunched in front of the curious girl: "Sarah, I need you to go back to school and into the dean's office again. Blair will accompany you. This is a great hiding place - we'll get you a wonderful necklace for sharing this secret with us."

For some moments it seemed as if the girl would object to being sent away. But then she grabbed Blair's hand and asked, already halfway back to school: "Do they have those necklaces in blue leather. I like blue, you know."

Her voice faded away as Jim tuned her out,concentrating on the foundation of the pavillion. He was too big to just slip under it. Hell, for once even Blair would be too big for it to try. Some of the wooden logs were already partly decayed. They gave way when Jim resorted to brutal strength and tore them away. The sweet stench grew stronger. Jim sneezed and coughed when Blair returned, instantly using his Guide-voice:

"Dial it down, Jim, come on, dial it down. Oh man, it's so groß, even I can smell it. What is it? Hospital-fumes?"

"Ether. Somebody's lying down under. Gimme a hand with this log"

Together they pushed and tore until the part of the foundation gave way with a loud crack and a cloud of dust and chippings. When the Sentinel was able to see and breathe again, Blair was already slipping halfway under the groundwork, butt and feet still outside.

"Pull me out again, Jim, c'mon, don't leave me hanging there" Blair's voice was muffled and strained.

Jim grabbed Blair's waist and for a moment, just a second, in fact, revelled in the feel of warm skin. Then he slowly pulled his Guide out.

"Stop!" sounding frantic. He stopped, his hands still holding Blair.

"Now, again" He pulled again - and saw a very grimy Sandburg emerging from the depths in his dirty, scratched hands holding an equally dirty child. Who was not responding because it had been drugged with ether.

The ambulance, Jim's truck and both of the Thomas's managed to arrive at the hospital at exactly the same time. To Jim's heartfelt relief the girl was totally unharmed and already coming around at the time she came out of the emergency room. Two hours later the department shrink had earned the girls trust by the intimate knowledge of the newest boys-group and passed Candices story to Ellison: Somebody had been waiting for her at the pavillion. When she had sat down to eat her lunch, someone coming from behind had covered her face with an ether-soaked cloth. She remembered a hairy hand.

When Sarah had arrived at their hiding place, noone was there. Some hours later someone had placed the still unconscious victim under the ground works. The police found loose floorplanks inside the almost collapsing pavillion...

The Thomas's embarrassed Jim by hugging him right in the middle and the Mayor's thank-you-call reached the Captain of Major Crimes before Ellison and Sandburg made it back to the bullpen. Which was why a smiling Simon Banks waited for them, refilled mugs of coffee in his hands.

"So, the child's unharmed, everyone including the Big Dog of The City is happy. Why are you frowning, Ellison?" Banks started to molest an unlit cigar.

"There are at least two hours missing, Sir. The girl had vanished from the pavillion. She was not there when Sarah, and later her teacher and the dean looked for her. And although the grown ups did not know anything about the hiding place, Sarah checked again. So, where was Candice for those two hours?"

"You have ... scanned ... the place? I mean, sensewise?"

"Yes Sir, but there was nothing. I thought there was a lingering smell like mildew in the air, but that could be the rotten wood. So no, I found nothing."

"Well, so we wait. Maybe she remembers something tomorrow. Uniforms are out asking neighbourgs if anyone had seen an unknown car or anything like that. Just do your paperwork for now." Banks grinned at the long-suffering look that graced his best detectives face.

At his desk, Jim took notice of his very still Guide. "You alright, Chief? The girl *really * was unharmed. She was not abused. Which makes that whole incident the more ... weird."

"Yeah, I know. And I'm glad about it. I just thought : What kind of world is this, where a six year old girl is drugged for whatever purposes and then buried under an old building. I don't get it."

The student sat slumped in front of the computer, sighed. When he checked their search for heartshaped neonlights, he sighed again. Nothing found.

"You can't win every time, buddy. Try neonlights, green, warehouses. You wanna go home? This'll take it's time."

"No way. I'll help you with the disgusting paperwork."

"Hey, why should we both suffer? Get home, take some time off, try to focus on the fact that we found the girl in time. I'll wrestle with the paperwork."

"You don't mind?"

"Nah, guppy" he ruffled Blairs hair and left it dishevelled. He looked cute. They smiled at each other.

"How bout I cook? Homemade stew? Would you like that, Jim?"

"Sure. I like everything you cook."

Three hours later Jim had approved and signed the last of the copies, even added one more for the Mayor and was finally heading home. He left the truck and reached out for his Guide. His acute hearing caught Blair's voice. The kid seemed to be on the phone, talking to someone, ... seemed to be Moira aka Fox. Jim sighed, then unashamedly listened in - at least to Blair's part of the conversation. He *was* able to listen after all. He hadn't particularly asked to be genetically predisposed; At least not in the beginning.

"Fox, good to hear you. No , can't see you today. Jim's just closed an important case and .... well, let me explain... I felt like celebrating ... no, I'm fraid not, look, not this time... waddaya mean not ever.... oh , I see; Well. Goodbye, Moira."

With the click of the receiver hitting the phone, Jim unlocked the door to his home, a silly smile on his face that he couldn't wipe away.

"Hey Big Guy; You developed a sixth sense that got a direct connection to your stove? The stew's just about ready. Real meat, no ostrich." A little bell chimed merryly : "Ah, bread's ready. Sit while I serve."

"Gimme a second." But instead of heading to the bathroom, Jim stormed out of the loft again. It took a little more than a second, more like ten minutes, but then the detective came back, still smiling, cheeks flushed from running up the stairs, two bottles of red wine in his hands.

"It's italian - I know, wrong country for Irish stew but I didn't have that much choice. It'll go great with the stew."

They ate in companionable silence, did the dishes together and finally settled on the same couch to watch some tv and sip the rest of the wine.

"Great bouquet, earthy yet fruity. " Jim took another sip.

"Must be something for a Sentinel to taste wine." With closed eyes Blair tried to imagine the experience and let another sip of the wine roll over his tongue. He startled when he felt Jim's long fingers brush over the shells and the leather band still gracing his neck.

His eyes found matching blue.

"Tomorrow I'll start looking for a necklace for Sarah. She deserves a nice one."

The long, elegant fingers left a trail of pure fire on Blair's rapidly heating skin although they didn't even touch him. Then they stopped moving, resting on the last shell of the necklacejust down below one earlobe. Where his skin was extra-sensitive. Such an intimate gesture. A decision was made. They both acknowledged it. With deliberate precise movements Blair put down his glass, wine still glistening. That hand that seemed to have found the treasure it had looked for for such a long time never broke contact with that one shell. Blair searched for an objection in those incredible blue eyes - never noticing that this would be the exact phrase to describe his own eyes at the moment: Deep blue pools of determination.

He reached out and freed Jim's glass from numb fingers, put in down on the table next to his. That hand still stayed where it caressed his necklace. Desperate to feel for himself Blair let his own fingers rest lightly on the edge of the collar of Jim's shirt, not yet touching what he wanted to touch, but getting close enough to be able to feel the heat of the Sentinel's skin. He felt the minute shiver more than he saw it. He couldn't resist any longer. This was what he had wanted for so long.

Never breaking nor intensifying the contact Blair leaned in till he drowned in blue pools, till he could feel the heat of Jim's skin even without Sentinel senses. The hand still touching the shell started to tremble. And he kissed him.

When lush, eager lips lingered on Jim's the Sentinel's world extended. Limitless. He gave himself up in an embrace he hadn't been aware to have initiated. The desperate attempt to breathe and not stop this allencompassing experience flared his nostrils. This was everything.

It was Blair who finally broke the kiss. Lightheaded he pulled back squinting his eyes so that his dilated pupils did not go blind by the evening's light. Cause it was important to see his love now - right now. And so he saw the precise moment when control took over Jim's life again.

"Blairlove, I'll not be able to do this." in a struggling attempt to take the sting away from his words " I've never ever, in my whole life, felt like this. Too much input. And yet all the dials down. I need time for myself." he was already halfway up the stairs to his safe haven. "Alone. "

"Jim"

The tall detective flinched as if whipped by the sentinel-soft, soothing voice that even now was full of understanding.

"I'll wait. I can do that. You're more than worth it." And with that the anthropologist turned and went into his own small, cold room and closed the door. Five minutes passed until the creaking of a traiterous last step indicated, that Jim had finally made it to his bed, too.

There was hot coffee waiting for Jim when he made it to the kitchen the next morning. Dreams had been luring him into a sensual haze when he had finally fallen asleep with Blair's taste on his lips, Blair's smell clinging to him like a sweet promise. Yet the morning had come too soon and so he was traipsing around frustrated knowing that his Guide was off for an early class at the U. He almost missed the sheet of paper on the kitchen insula, covering a fresh load of muffins.

Blair's handwriting said: 'Thank you for trusting me. Don't worry, I'll always take care of you. See you soon.'

With a desperate little laugh Jim tried to decide if this was promise or malediction.

"Detective Ellison?" Susann - two n and no e, thank you - from archive's nightshift tried to blind the man with her smile. Her long red hair fell shiny over her shoulders. Jim would never look through the secrets of female life - like a hairbrush and ten wellspent minutes in front of a mirror...

The young woman waved with a sheet of paper: "You had a search going on. Green neon signs? The results were transferred to archive, when your terminal was shut down yestereve."

"Oh yes. Blair, my partner, had programmed it that way."

She made a non-committal noise, then turned on her charms once again: "Whatever; half an hour ago I got the results. 32 addresses, eleven in the warehouse district near the wharfs. I thought you might need them right now, so I brought them personally before I leave for the day."

"That's very nice of you." He was not quite as successful to produce a matching smile but at least managed 'polite' when he grabbed the paper. Then his hand froze in midair. His guide was in the elevator. He could hear his heartbeat. For the first time he really looked at Susann, saw the effort she was making to impress him and dismissed it with a sigh. And all he could think about right now was that now this first get-together after their kiss last night did not have to be awkward, for they could talk shop and avoid the subject that was foremost on his mind.

"That is really a big help. But I would not want to keep you from going home. Thanks again and bye. Blair - we got the search-results."

The young man had just pushed open the door to the bullpen. "That's great. And good morning to you, too. So where do we start to work..."

Neither of the men noticed that Susann left them defeatedly nor that Simon came out of his office to hover behind them. Both men were too wrapped up in the feeling of suddenly being close to each other without being able to touch other than casually.

"Work at what?" The Captain's bark startled them both.

"His master's voice..."

"Shut up Blair, he might hear you."

"I did hear, I'm not deaf. Now answer: what kind of work is this?"

"Sir, Blair had found a pretty gross not to mention illegal net-site, where children were exposed and abused. When we told Vice, Sorensen seemed to be fighting a tide with no tools at all. So I volunteered. I took a ... closer ... look at those pictures and came up with the reflection of a green neon sign."

"That's the site, Simon, uhm, Captain Banks. Oh, no, they had it updated last night. Jim..." Blair's heartbeat spiked, he didn't breathe anymore, his face turned white. "Jim... " The student got up so fast, his chair crashed and he was out of the door before anyone realized what was going on. Jim threw one glance at the screen and followed his Guide to the john not even noticing that Simon had lit his cigar and now gruffly sucked in smoke. The last picture, apparently the new one, showed a small girl in her pantsies. The girl was draped on a matress and although her eyes were closed and she was obviously drugged and unconscious Simon easily recognised her. He had seen a picture of her laughing at a camera just twentyfour hours ago. It was Candice Thomas. So that was what happened during those two hours missing...

"Blair, you OK?" Jim felt really sickened. Sickened of the pictures they had just seen, sickened at his inability to protect Blair from things like that and sickened by his lack of words that still echoed from the cold tiles of the john. He heard the retching and entered one of the small stalls. Blair knelt in front of the toilet helplessly cramping. When he turned and saw the detective standing there, he muttered, his voice raw from misuse: "Leave me alone. This has to smell horrible for your delicate nose. You don't have to..." and turned again.

"Blairlove" suddenly it was of absolutely no importance who heard him or what consequences this would have. "Don't talk; Just ... try to get better." He knelt behind the still heaving kid, gathered the now sweaty locks in one large hand and with cool fingers supported Blair's forehead.

When the student finally was finished and his system kicked back in, he started to shake violently. So Jim shed his sweater and wrestled a barely resisting Guide into that garment while he flushed the toilet a few times. He brought wet towels and - when Blair was able to stand on his own again, he ran outside for a bottle of Soda.

Coming back with the drink, he was greeted by a wry smile: "I'm sorry, I know I said, I'll take care of you. What a laugh..."

At that comment Jim bearhugged his shaky roommate and actually laughed for the first time in hours.

They were at address number seven down by the docks, the sun was blazing onto the truck for once and Jim was fairly exhausted. Six times they had found a green neon sign, one at least vaguely shaped like a heart; six times Jim had extended his senses under the careful guidance of his own personal shaman and six times he'd found nothing. No suspicious smells, no sounds other than which belonged there and, after piggypacking his sight with his other senses, nothing but crates, car-tyres, ships-equipement and a particular disgusting load of kneehigh synthetic pink flamingoes that were to be shipped to Mexico of all places.

Neon sign number seven tried to be threeleafed clover and shone despite of the bright daylight above the entrance of a particularly filthy bar. Across the street was another large warehouse, two dirty cars parked in front, their licence-plates unreadable with grime.

"Chief, I'm not sure, if I can do this again. My head's pounding ..."

"Alright, Big Guy. Just this one, huh. Then we'll go home, turn off the phone and I'lll fix you a hot bath, so that you can relax. For now, let me give you a little massage."

Images from last evening, the evening that changed everything, brushed through Jim's mind, while Blair's long elegant fingers started to softly press against his temples.

"Relax for me, Jim" The young voice had dropped one octave and suddenly sounded experienced, old, wise. "Breathe for me, Jim, keep your rhythm" No way to disobey.

Just one more warehouse for today. Maybe he'll even do another one. He *did* feel better after all. He could do this; for Blair.

Reluctantly Jim opened his eyes, not wanting to break the alluring contact. Blair's incredibly blue eyes were close, his lips half open, moist. A small moan, swallowed almost as soon as it rose, had the student listening intently. To distract the curious mind, Jim cocked his head and started to listen in.

There was the rustling of paper, big sheets of paper and the electrical hum of some sort of light; spots.

He hadn't realized that he had actually described what he heard, until Blair pulled out his cell-phone.

"Shall I call backup?"

"No wait. I can't see a thing. Whatever takes place happens in the back. Oh no..."

"What?!"

"Maybe you better call backup now. I heard a child crying. And there is the smell of ether. It wasn't there before. Someone seemed to have opened a bottle right now. I'll go in. You stay.."

"..here? Not in this particular case, I don't think so."

There was a lot of authority in Blair's voice, so the Detective just shrugged.

"Just make sure to stay behind me, Chief."

They made it to the backside of the warehouse to find a way to sneak in while the sickening-sweet smell of ether grew stronger to Jim's nose. The small sound of crying had stopped again, but the tall Detective didn't tell his worried Guide - he didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Now the Sentinel caught the gruff voice of a man ordering.

"Push her that way, yeah, more", then the whirring sound of a camera taking pictures.

Then Ellison found a back door, locked, and a window, open, that led in some sort of empty office. When Sandburg started to climb up and into the room, scrambling not very graceful in his haste, the tall detective held him back.

"Chief, that would be burglary. Ah, did I hear a cry for help?"

"I heard it for sure." A grim smile curved lush lips.

"Good. Now there's a reason to take a look. backup?"

"Simon promised ten minutes. You should be able to hear them soon."

Jim nodded, then placed his hand over his Guide's mobile mouth. He stepped into the office, helped Blair, then tried the door that led into the warehouse. Judging the way the gruff voice still ordering movements was muffled, the Sentinel knew, that the men and their victim could not be in the next room. Just to make sure he drew his gun. The next room was full of crates - like a good warehouse should, with plenty of possibilieties to hide, but a quick auditorial sweep showed that he and Blair plus half a dozen of rodents were emitting the only lifesigns. Four, no five more heartbeats thumping in the next room. The sluggishness of one urging the Sentinel to hurry. His concentration was devided. He heard the backup-sirens and knew he had just mere seconds left to catch the men by surprise.

Taking a deep breath Jim focused on the door that led to the socalled studio. While pointing his gun which he held in both hands towards the ceiling he lahed out with his right leg. Maybe rage added some power to the strength of the kick, but the door broke free and crashed to the floor taking one of the expensive looking cameras with it. The equipement broke and spilled a roll of film that turned grey in the hot lights of the spots.

"Freeze and hands up" One look at the stony face of a more than six foot tall mountain of muscle that was obviously pissed beyond belief turned two men into pillars of salt in an almost biblical sense. The two unconscious little girls that had been perched on a matress didn't move at all, but the fifth person in the room tried for a quick escape. A woman in a police-uniform who had been smoking a cigarette in a far corner now ran to a back-door.

She was not fast enough. With a roar that might have been deciphered as "How could you" Sandburg dashed forwardgrabbed her by a badly dyed braid that was supposed to be blonde and yanked her back into the room. She turned despite the painful grip to hit her capturer but Sandburg, mildmannered Sandburg, struck with deadly precision, landed a lucky punch and knocked the woman out cold. He didn't have the nerve to let go of her braid but knelt beside her, panting heavily, till Jim tapped him on the shoulder and almost gave him a heartattack.

"Good work, Chief. Never knew you were such a brute..."

With his second pair of cuffs he secured the woman as long as she was still out of it, then went back to the two men he had chained together to a heating tube and read them their rights.

When Uniforms and Sorensen from Vice crashed through the main entrance, Jim was already kneeling on the matress, desperately trying to wake up the small girls but failing. Finally he stepped back to make room for the EMTs who started to work fiercely on the darkhaired victim, whose heartbeat had this sluggish quality.

Both girls had been abducted from their school; The woman in the fake police-uniform had told Anna and Karen that there had been some sort of an accident. By the time the girls started to get suspicious, they were already standing in front of the big van where Hiller and Stark, the two men of the team, were waiting with ether. Their teacher reported them missing when they didn't show up for the second school-hour in a row, but - it being a different school than the time Candice had been abducted - they weren't too worried until Sorensen had shown up to question them.

Due to the crushing evidence the trio literally spilled. They tried to put the blame on one another and leaked information on other groups who had posted gross pics on the net. Sorensen smiled. Paperwork could be wonderful sometimes...

Despite the successful hunt Ellison felt the weight of his years on his shoulders when he closed the door of his loft, almost locking Blair out in the process. He felt dirty from seeing things that never should have happened in the first place. He still heard the sluggish little heartbeat of the small girl that had been almost drugged to death. His headache had refused to go away during all the paperwork.

"I go take a shower, then head for the bed, Chief. Please, try to stay quiet. I'm beat."

"Sure, Jim. But we'll have to talk eventua..."

"I know. But not today." There was grim determination in the voice, so Blair rose his arms in an international "hands-up"-gesture and nodded vaguely while he entered his small cluttered room. He swiped away a few books from his bed and laid down. The shower started. And as if having developed a set of supernatural senses of his own the young man thought he could see/hear/smell/taste/even touch what the tall detective was doing right now under the too-cool spray of water.

Two hours later Blair - dressed now in his sweats - was still wide awake. When Jim had climbed upstairs and fallen into the big lonely bed the student had not dared to move to ensure his Sentinel's rest. But now he decided to get himself a cup of tea, so that maybe *he* could get some sleep, too.

He sneaked out into the living room and was greeted by soft mumblings and sighs. He felt a bit like a voyeur but got more concerned by the minute when he heard Jim toss and turn on the big bed. Tea forgotten, Blair decided to wake the detective from whatever nightmlare had him captured. He cautiously climbed the stairs, then stood in the dark for a few moments just looking at the sweaty Sentinel who fought his nightmlare with animated movements. Blair stepped closer to the bed, then knelt on the matress. The The big muscled body froze in sleep. And just when Blair thought that he had made a major mistake to invade Jim's privacy without invitation, the detective lunged over with one powerful arm, grabbed a handful of gradstudent and tugged. Blair lost his balance and landed lying on the bed with a muffled curse. He struggled to get out of the sheets again - he wanted this, wanted to take care of Jim, but preferrably with the detective awake and agreeing - but then Jim sighed and calmed down all of a sudden. And Blair watched in awe as the mere presence of Guide let Sentinel slip into deep dreamless sleep again. Morning was going to be interesting...

Morning came too soon. Almost at the break of day the cell phone Jim had deposited on his nightdesk chirped insistently. Years of military training had Ellison alert on the first ring. He felt calm and rested and - to his great surprise - not even a little disoriented about the fact that another man still slept by his side.

"Ellison" his voice only slightly hoarse from sleep. The lithe body of his Guide stirred.

"Banks here. Sorensen's going for a big bust at seven. Your foto-artist spilled about his employee - you wouldn't believe this: He's married with children of his own. Vice has invited you to the bust because of your part of the investigation."

Blair opened his eyes when Simon's muffled voice barked through the receiver. The look of utter contentment was instantly replaced by one of almost comical panic when the student realized in which bed he had spent the most restful night in weeks. But then Jim reached over and touched the tousled curls with the back of his hand, making a reassuring not-noise to calm Blair's frantic heartbeat.

After writing down an address on a notebook that was conveniently placed on the nightdesk he disconnected the cell, then turned to his Guide again.

"Now I know what you meant by taking care. Thank you for helping me through this nightmlare tonight. I " he faltered, for the first time accepting that there was another man in his bed and noticing almost painfully the newness of this situation, the innuendo that came with the fact. Yet he finished his sentence jaw-muscle twitching in an attempt not to blush furiously. "I appreciate it."

Then he scrambled out of his bed and disappeared into the bathroom before a stunned Blair had recovered enough to say something. The young man propped himself up on one elbow as the shower downstairs started and truth hit him with the blinding cleansing force of lightning < it's my call - I just have to reach out> and with a megawatt smile he bounced down into the kitchen and prepared a quick breakfast.

They met with Sorensen and his men at an office-tower downtown where the "kiss-kiss-society" liked to pretend to work. Jordan Krest was already at his office and on the phone when the policemen came crashing through the door, Sorensen waving with a search-warrant. While at first the heartbeat of the businessman had spiked dramatically, Jim noticed a considerable calm-down when the search went on. An hour later a triumphant grin graced Krest's face while he waited for his lawyer to arrive.

"Blair, c'mon, help me concentrate. I know that perp is hiding something, I just don't know what. Do something" The Sentinel's desperation clearly shone through his words. So the Guide stepped closer, pressing one hand onto the small of Jim's back, with his own body blocking out the intimate gesture to critical eyes. And the simple, warm contact seemed to be enough. The Sentinel took one deep, calming breath, just like Blair had taught him, then cocked his head.

"I can smell something - It's like the air just before a " the tall man struggled for a word "a tempest... but that's ridiculous ... for once it's clear outside..."

Blair raked his brain for a clue. Now where had he heard about something like that? "Ozone, Jim, you can smell ozone. It's also emitted by old computer-equipement. Where does it come from? There is no PC in here. You can do this. Piggypack your sight with smell. That's it..."

Balir could see Jim zeroing in on the bookshelf on the far wall. <... that's a bad movie - a hidden room behind some books...> But the detective went over to the book-stand, unerringly finding the one book-spine that seemed to be used and thus stood out from all the other huge tomes on the shelf. As he pulled he heard Krest's heartbeat accelerate into panic mode. Jim turned, smiled at Krest whose face had turned white and pulled stonger. The tome tilted, the shelf swung back and showed a small room, designed as a bar. This owner had installed as much electronic equipement as he could fit into the former bar whose low hum, priorly quelched by the soundproof bookshelf, filled the posh office.

Ellison couldn't help himself: "Case closed" . He smiled this predatory little smile that always sent shivers through anyone on the receiving end.

For the last two hours in the bullpen Blair had been preparing tomorrows lecture. Still Sorensen and Jim were questioning Krest and Blair had no other chance of getting home, with his own car at the loft and his purse devastatingly empty. Fimally his tall detective came back.

"Sorensen's doing the paperwork. We're finally free to get home. Thank God, cause I'm beat."

The tension the big man was emanating was almost palpable and Blair realized that the detective had been avoiding him the whole day. Driving the truck through the tough evening traffic Ellison caved: "So quiet today, Chief?"

"I thought you didn't want me to talk. I'm just glad that I can still help you at the job. .. I did help you today, didn't I?"

"You did more than that. I ... I don't know how to say it ... but when I couldn't focus in that damned crowded office - when you touched my back, my concentration somehow slipped back into place all of a sudden. I couldn't have done it otherwise."

"Hey that's what Guides are for." Blair's smile was blinding-bright. "I'm glad you let me take care for you."

Which was probably not the most clever thought to say out loud because Jim seemed to shut down and rebuild a lot of his walls again.

They finished for the night and when Blair came out of the bathroom twisting something nerveously in his hand Jim was already upstairs and lying in his bed. he did not know how often he had pushed away that thought in the last couple of years. Blair knew exactly what he wanted to do. And deep in his heart where - during lonesome nights - he had confessed the truth to himself he knew that after a bad case of hero worship he had fallen in love with the man that was now safely hiding upstairs. And after the last few days he not only had no doubts that Jim did love him too. But above all he was quite sure that this yearning that seemed to drive him closer and closer to the object of his desire was most likely also connected to their growing Sentinel/Guide-bond.

Blair sighed at the tube he clutched in his hand. He was still standing in front of the stairs not quite sure if he should ascend or not.

"Sandburg, your heart beats like a jackhammer. Don't tell me you're having a cardiac problem. Whaddaya want?"

The whispered voice that provided an answer was so soft, even the Sentinel would have problems hearing it, hadn't he been so attuned to his Guide: "I want to take care of you..." With that the student, suddenly feeling very young, very insecure, very frightened, took a cleansing breath and padded naked upstairs. He avoided the last creaky stair and therefore almost managed to sneak onto his Sentinel. Ellison was sitting in his bed, grabbing the sheet that covered feet and groin with white knuckles. Blair was all but mesmerized by the rapid rise and fall of the broad muscled chest Ellison insisted on shaving sinse his senses had kicked back in.

The grad student was desperately aware of the coldness of his own hands when he put down the tube with lubricant he had brought with him, while he slipped under the covers to the heat that was Jim Ellison.

"...what..." But Blair would not let Jim talk. With far more confidence that he actually felt he grabbed broad shoulders - and felt Jim flinch cause his damn fingers were still icy - and took a demanding kiss and ruthlessly pushed his tongue into hotwet heat that opened up to him.

"I love you Jim. I want you to know this now. I love you. and I'll take care of you." And with that hard arms came around him, shaking hands caressed his still shower-damp curls and with a small sob Jim kissed him back. Blair was so reliefed his erection almost flagged. But just almost.

Surprise hit Blair when he discovered that he had a very pliant calm cop for him to play. Mr. I'm always in control was not only not controlling, he also awkwardly tried to fondle Blair's cheeks , to softly rub his pebbly hard tits.

"I've never done anything like that before. Time spent in Vice always was highly overrated..."

"I asked a gay friend. After he got over the disappointment that I didn't come onto him finally , he told me a few important things...Trust me, Jim. I can take care of you. To be here with you, finally - it''ll be wonderful." So much promise held by a voice....

Blair started to trail little kisses from the cheekbones to the strong curve of the neck, to nip at first one shoulder then the other, to lick at the right nipple, to softly bite the left nub.

Jim had never been overly sensitive on his tits - each woman playing with them had discovered that fast. But when Blair's clever tongue lapped over the right nub for the first time, Jim listened to a long-drawn moan that was his own. The sucking and biting seemed to go straight to his twitching cock that filled powerfully despite Jim's anxiety to do something that would make this dream disappear.

"You like that?" When Jim didn't answer, Blair stopped his exploration of this sculpted chest.

"You don't like that?"

"Nooo, don't stop!" Jim knew he was begging shamelessly, but nothing mattered any more. The only thing important was Blair's skin, Blair's tongue and Blair's hands that now resumed their travel over his sensitized body. Blair slipped down The Sentinel's body to get access to Jim's quivering stomach, licking it clean from pre-ejaculate. The student rubbed his hairy chest over Jim's groin not knowing but getting a real good impression of what this was doing to the Sentinel, when the muscled body arched off the bed to get more friction.

"You like that?" he slipped his arms under Jim's body, holding him tightly to increase pressure.

"Yessss" Jim knew that he would not be able to hold back for much longer. It had been quite some time since he'd gotten 'lucky' with anyone other than his hand and the thought and sight(!) of Blair doing this to him didn't make it any easier for him. He could feel every single hair of Blair's chest tickle his engorged member and knew he was already leaking uncontrollably. He fell back onto the bed, his thighs shaking.

"You like the way I'm taking care of you."

Jim decided that a real answer would be impossible and settled for a heartfelt groan that reverberated through his whole body.

With an evil little chuckle Blair moved down a little more: "So I'll try something else. Tell me if you don't like it, OK?" And again he waited till he got an "Unggh mmmhh" as an affermative. Hearing a slurping sound Jim opened his eyes he didn't remember having shut. Blair was thoroughly wetting three fingers of his right hand, before he - with rapt concentration - bent his head and took Jim's bobbing cock into his lush mouth. Incredible: Lights, sounds, colors, moans, wet slurps, the push of sucking and the roar of two hearts pumping blood with frantic intensity - the rhythm set by a fiercely aroused Guide was developing a life of its own.

When the first finger entered the Sentinel's most secret place, moving in and out of the hot sheath, Jim was grateful for the small initial pain that made it possible for him to endure the sweet torture of Blair's mouth a little longer. The second finger stretched the virgin passage and Blair got problems to swallow all of Jim's hot quivering manhood. The young man almost brutally shoved a third finger into Jim's puckered opening and almost mistook the tensing of the gorgious body as pain. But then, a hoarse cry the only warning his Sentinel was capeable of, the Guide was gagged by the first violent spurts of semen that hit the back of his throat. Gulping and taking desperate breaths Blair managed to swallow all of Jim's offerings without dislocating his fingers that still pumped in and out of Jim's anus.

The tall detective was still panting, thighs shaking, sweat breaking free, when he felt the youngr man shift, pull, turn him over onto his side and spoon up behind him. Cool gel found its way into his stretched rosebud and then the tight voice of his Guide whispered:

"Now you'll take care of me, will ya?" and a hot-hard cock filled Jim's prepared passage with agonizing slowness. The Sentinel felt the pressure of another man's penis deep inside himself, the hard grip of a hand on his hip and the warmth of caressing fingers on one of his nipples. The strangeness of this virgin act faded when Blair bent and stretched and started to lick Jim's ear. The loud wet sound kept one rhythm with the movements of the large cock in his ass and both sensations communicated directly with his groin - his cock filled again. Almost leisurly Jim fisted, then pumped his own member all the while marvelling at the restraint his young lover was capable of.

Finally Blair's breathing became more laboured, his grip spread perfect asscheeks wider, his thrusts grew more insistent.

"Please, Jim .... cum for me" he shifted, his cock suddenly brushing across Jim's prostate and the Sentinel surrendered to his Guide's demand and yielded to the exquisite pleasure that knifed through his body. He came, his semen coating the bed and his hand, his violent contractions milking Blair's cock. The young man bit down hard on Jim's shoulder and rammed his hard-aching rod one last time deep into the shivering body of his lover then came himself, sending wave after wave of cream into Jim.

It only dimly registered to both men that they were sharing one last gentle kiss, before sleep took over.

And that way it stayed. Blair started to get nervous.

They made love every night in the following four weeks. They were petting and licking each other and with time Jim grew bolder and initiated their lovemaking more than once. But then always came the moment of truth, as Blair had labelled it to himself, and Jim would turn over and spread his legs. Not once he even tried to turn Blair over. Not that the younger man wanted to complain. He loved fucking his tough Cop-Sentinel, it gave him an extra kick to see him submissive and the best: Jim seemed to love it that way, too. He always came, sometimes even twice and Blair wondered silently what his roommate had done with all that sexual energy when they hadn't been lovers.

But now the submissive role seemed to take over certain other parts of Jim's life: Whenever Blair suggested a plan for the weekend Jim would agree. Blair wanted to go to a french movie? Jim would come, too, even if he was bored to death. Blair wanted to go to lunch at the new indian restaurant near the U? Jim would go, too and eat unpronounceable food, even if he hated it. Before this attitude could influence Jim's job, too, Blair decided that there was only one cure for this particular illness.

So when they had been lovers for exactly four weeks, Blair excused himself early at the bullpen. He could see that Jim contemplated going with him, but - with a sad look at his files - just promised to follow soon. The student drove home, cleaned himself - very thoroughly, thinking, that maybe this had stopped Jim from taking him. Then he placed candles all over the place, their small, warm flames leading upstairs into the - their bedroom.

He knew that by now Jim would be looking for an excuse to leave the bullpen for the day. So Blair settled himself on the bed; he didn't bother to wear any clothes. He wanted to look vulnerable, ready, eager, willing - submitting. And while he waited for his tall lover, he started to prepare himself for his first time. He had to bend awkwardly and couldn't quite control where on his rear end he did place the lube as he stretched himself with his own fingers. But he shrugged it off. Finally he found a position where his hand and arm weren't cramping as soon as he pumped in and out of his virgin opening. He wouldn't have believed how good this felt. No wonder, Jim seemed unwilling to return the favour. By the time Blair was taking three of his own fingers his penis was erect and hard and almost touching his own belly.

When Jim opened the door to his loft, his mate's arousal hit him like a living creature . He left keys, shoes and jacket somewhere as he smiled at the sight of all those small candles. Quelching one flame after the other he ascended the stairs to his bedroom. Blair. Spread naked on the bed. Engorged cock all but pointing at him, calling him. Jim felt his asshole contract at the thought. His breath caught in his throat while he ripped off his shirt, stepped out of his trousers and left the garments in a puddle on the floor. Blair watched him with hooded eyes, then stroked his own penis once - up and down. Jim moaned. When he pushed down his suddenly too tight briefs his engorged member sprang free and bobbed slightly.

Blair caressed the head of his weeping cock, gathering droplets of precum on his fingers, then held out his wet hand to beckon his Sentinel onto the bed. Jim was lured closer by the almost palpable scent that clung to the fluid coating his Guide's hand. Kneeling on the bed he took the offered hand in a getle grip, then kissed and licked it clean.

"There's more where this came from..." Blair's voice was husky and almost an octave deeper than usual.

With a soft sigh Jim bent and flicked his tongue over the red head of Blair's cock. The taste that exploded on his tastebuds was more than he could endure. He groaned, then swallowed the hard length.

"Yesss" hissing, Blair pumped his penis in and out of Jim's hot, waiting mouth. He was so close, so close, so wonderfully close.

"Now..." a sigh only, then the student's body tensed, shivered on top of an arch and spilled. Grunting with surprise Jim nevertheless took everything, his throat-muscles milking the last drops of orgasm from his lover. Collapsing back onto the bed, Blairs now flaccid penis slipped from Jim's mouth leaving a puzzled and oh-so-hard Sentinel hovering over a sated Guide. Blair managed a small exhausted smile. So far, so good.

"Don't worry, Jim, I'll take care of you. Just stay kneeling on the bed..." Blair knelt in front of his lover, his stretched, red asshole pointing at Jim, opening and closing in the aftermath of his orgasm. When he reached back and grabbed Jim's hard cock with lubed fingers, thus slicking it up, even this particular detective took the hint. Jim pushed. Blair groaned. The msucle of the puckered opening clenched painfully then with a soft popping sound only a Sentinel was able to hear, gave way. Blair groaned again.

This could not be compared to making love to a woman. It was the last coherent thought Jim could remember later. Blair's ass-muscle closed around his large penis like a cockring, massaging along the whole length when he moved inside Blair's body. Blair, who was bent forward, his hair swinging with every thrust of his hot rod. His own hard cock - Jim watched as he buried himself deep between two white orbs. And their combined scents of arousal and ejaculate and sweat he could not only smell but taste, also. For a while now Jim was shouting with every thrust - vaguely he could feel the shivering of Blair's thighs, the clenching of internal muscles that milked his cock into oblivion. With one last shout he rammed himself forward. He never had cum this hard in his whole life.

When he stopped shaking and spilling, Jim bent forward to place a reverent kiss on Blair's neck. He supported himself on his arms in an attempt not to crush the smaller man and happily nuzzled into Blair's hair. So he was close enough to hear the urgent whisper:

"Touch me, Jim, pleeeze...." his Guide begged. The Sentinel almost burned himself on Blair's newly engorged member. Carefully, because he wanted to stay buried ballsdeep inside of his Guide, Jim slowly lifted Blair's upper body, until the younger man was half sitting half kneeling on Jim's still hard cock, his back resting against Jim's sweaty chest. They shifted a little but Blair could not escape the insistent thrusts of his lover's large penis which seemed to have come to life. And then Jim carefully cupped the head of Blair's cock, smearing precum over his fingers to provide lubrication.

"Don't worry, Blair, I'll take care for you" unconsciously mimicking Blair's earlier statement the Sentinel started a slow, sensual rhythm to bring the man who was squirming on his cock to the brink of orgasm again.

"How do you like that, Blair? You *do* like it, don't you?" Pump, thrust, moan.

"I never thought it could be this way. You like it too, Blair, hunnn?" Pump, thrust, moan.

"I want you to come for me Blair." Pump, thrust, deep,long groan.

"Cause when you cum, your ass will make me cum too." Pump, thrust, pump, thrust.

"Oh, Blair, make me cum, take me in..." Pump, thrust,

"Jim??"

"I'm here, lover" Pump, thrust, pump thrust.

"Now"

It was a demand Jim had to follow. He pressed his hard penis deep inside his Guide, filling the younger man and keeping up minute movements to make himself being felt. Then he tightened his grip on Blair's dripping cock, pumping hard. Held immovable by one steely arm, Jim's hard length filling him, its grinding motions making him tingle all over and an insistent fist closing over his cock all Blair could do was surrender. His shout was echoed by the walls of the loft, till he had no more breath left. When his shaking subsided and he sagged back into Jim's embrace Blair still could feel powerful lunges deep inside his ass, filling him with hot liquid.

"You wanted this, Blair, didn't you?" a sated Sentinel sighed.

An hour later, when hunger - for food - took over again, and Blair suggested tofu-burger, the nose of his beloved Sentinel curled and the tall detective all but whined:

"Naah, how bout chinese. I'm craving for some meat. My treat..."

Thank God...