Jim spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the sun on the terrace, just thinking. The yellow warmth of the sunshine relaxed him so that he could mull over what Sam had said rather than obsessing about it. The ordinary ebb and flow of life inside the house helped too, providing soothing background noise for his musings.
It was funny that he found that busy buzz comforting rather than distracting. He'd never lived with so many people before, except for his six weeks of basic training, and he'd been so unnerved back then, terrified really, that the whole thing passed in a blur. He did remember that it had never been still in the barracks--a low, dull roar constantly throughout the day and a residual sense of tension in the air at night, even as they slept, so thick and strong it was like a sound in its own right.
He'd been searching for connection with other people all his life, some sense of belonging. That's really what had prompted him to join the military. As a child, he'd felt so isolated and alone, just the three of them rattling around in that large house after his mother left, divided from one another, more like strangers than family.
Unfortunately, the army hadn't turned out exactly as he'd hoped. The aloneness hadn't receded; beneath the surface, he'd quickly discovered the many divisions that came between his fellow recruits, just the way they had in his family. Oh, he'd made friends, but none of it had lasted. Maybe he would still have been in touch with some of the guys killed in Peru, but the others, they'd just faded away somehow. The differences they'd once been able to overlook only became exaggerated as they got older and moved on in life, their paths diverging in wildly different directions.
When Blair came along, it was his first taste of belonging, at last someone who accepted him wholly, just as he was, family in the truest sense of the word. And here at Elizabeth and Sam's house, amongst all the other Sentinels and Guides, he'd found what it meant to be part of a community. They really were his tribe, not the one he protected, but the one that protected him, helped him, understood him, embraced him for exactly who and what he was.
In his father's house, he'd had to contort himself in so many different ways just to try and please the old man, and still he'd never managed it. In the army, he'd lived in fear of getting caught some night, out behind the barracks or in the latrine, those clumsy, super-heated fumblings in the dark that he'd worked so hard to convince himself were nothing, just an aberration brought on by the lack of female company. Somehow, he'd managed to block out of his mind the lingering sense of disappointment he'd always felt about his entanglements with women. It hadn't been much different in the PD, pretending to himself, his co-workers, worst of all to Carolyn, that he was something he wasn't, until the Sentinel thing made that impossible, until Blair came along and he didn't have to pretend ever again.
It was astonishing and a little sad that it was only in the last five years, out of forty, that he'd begun to let his authentic self out. It was only now that it felt at all safe to do so. It was only because he'd finally found his tribe that it was even possible. What an amazing thing to happen halfway into a life.
Jim became so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't even hear when Blair and Elena returned. It wasn't a zone exactly, more like an extremely focused state of awareness, deep inside himself, trying to work out those answers Sam had suggested he needed to find. It was only when Elena came out to the patio to call him in to dinner that he was jolted out of his ruminations. He got up from the table, stiff from sitting so long, and laughed at himself a little. //And I think Blair gets lost in his thoughts.// He went inside and washed up for dinner.
With all of them sitting around the large dining room table, it was like being at the Walton's for dinner--well, a loud, fractious, Sentinel and Guide version of it. Elizabeth and Sam sat with Carla between them in her high chair, adding her happy, gurgling baby noises to the exuberant pitch of conversation. Clare and Elena sat next to one another. Clare was wearing her new bracelet, trying not to look too pleased with it. Still, Jim could tell she liked it from the way she kept looking down at her wrist and fiddling with the bracelet, admiring it. Elena was trying not to appear too proud of herself, probably worried that she'd spoil the moment, trying not to set off one of Clare's mood swings. But she was thrilled that Clare obviously liked her gift, and she didn't have much luck hiding her pleasure. A wide, bright smile kept breaking through, despite her best efforts.
He and Blair were seated together, and he had a hard time tearing his eyes away from him long enough to pay attention to the dinner conversation. He stopped trying to fight it, and just let the buzzing voices wash over him as he lost himself in wave after wave of his Guide. Blair was wearing the shirt he'd bought while out shopping. Jim had never seen him look more beautiful. The new shirt was silk, midnight blue, so much the color of his eyes. The soft fabric flowed sensually over his body, rippling like water with every movement, accentuating the smooth play of muscles beneath it. Blair had left just the top button undone, and depending on how he moved, Jim could get a glimpse of his skin. It was like watching the promised land winking at him, teasing, that inviting triangle of flesh right at the hollow of Blair's throat, where even from a foot away he could see the pulse beating.
Elizabeth loved candles, and the candelabra in the center of the table was ablaze, bathing everything in a soft, warm glow. Jim couldn't take his eyes off the way the light shimmered in Blair's hair like some kind of angel vision. Blair was freshly showered, but there was no whiff of chemicals from shampoo or soap. Jim smiled to himself. Now, he knew what else Blair had purchased while he was out, the scent-free bath products that left his lover's natural odor uncovered, just the way he liked it. His smile broadened. Oh yes, it was a seduction. *That* was his surprise.
Jim realized he should probably be concerned about renewing their sexual relationship. He knew they should probably proceed with caution, that he should put on the brakes, look away, anything to break the mood, the sexual tension building between them. But he couldn't. He was too mesmerized by the sight of a sensual Blair putting all his many charms on display. It had been too long, and he'd missed his Guide too much. Plus, for the first time in his life, his senses felt like a wonderland, and he wanted more than anything to savor the experience by making love with his Guide.
"Jim showed me the coolest thing today," Clare said.
Jim heard his name and forced himself to pay attention.
"What'd you call it again?" she asked him.
"Piggybacking one sense onto another. In this case, hearing on top of sight," he said.
"You taught Clare how to do it?" Blair asked him.
He nodded.
"I could focus on specific people's conversations all the way over in the park," she said. "Do you know how far away that is?"
"Far," Elizabeth said. "That's a really interesting technique. I'd love to hear more about it."
Blair launched into an explanation of how it worked and how they'd kind of stumbled onto it while they were investigating the death of another officer, unfortunately killed by some of their own, dirty cops who'd turned to trafficking the drugs they were entrusted to keep off the streets. At Clare and Elena's urging, he lingered on the part where they were involved in the helicopter chase, painting in all the details, pacing his narrative for maximum suspense, keeping them all glued to their seats, dying to hear how it all worked out.
Jim's mind wandered. He already knew the story after all. Hell, he'd lived it. Everyone was caught up in Blair's artful storytelling anyway, and no one seemed to notice he wasn't paying attention. He focused on Blair. His lover swamped his senses. He lost himself in his Guide--his scent, the waves of warmth coming off his body, the swirls and eddies of air around his hands as he gestured, the beating of his heart, the sound of his words. It didn't really matter to him what Blair said. It was enough just to listen to the musical rise and fall of his voice, the low, rumbling bass notes of his laugh, the windy rush of breath in and out of his body.
Then Blair put a hand on his arm and told him to eat, probably a little worried that he'd zoned. He smiled at his lover to reassure him and picked up the heavy silver fork. His taste buds exploded with pleasure. Food had never been so good before. Marta was an excellent cook, and she'd prepared them a traditional Mexican meal.
The mole sauce on the chicken...well, it made his mouth happy. It was a marvel of subtlety and sophistication, a delicate blend of flavors that would have been inedible if the balance was even slightly off. Marta had achieved perfection. The deep chocolate bitterness was smoothed by the delicate play of spices, cinnamon definitely, and something else too, anise maybe. The meaty richness of almonds and sesame seeds tamed the sharp bite of chilies. Marta served the chicken with a healthy portion of avocado rice, something he'd never seen before, a delicious combination that went perfectly with the mole sauce. He ate happily, lingering over every bite, wondering how he'd missed out on such pleasures for so long.
The luscious flavors reminded him of the many kisses he'd shared with Blair that day and that there was still so much more of his Guide that he had yet to taste again. The thought filled him with anticipation, like a promise, a reward, a great gift that was his for the taking, at least if the way Blair kept fondling his thigh beneath the table was any indication.
//This is too good. Nothing can be this good, and no one could possibly deserve it.//
The rest of the evening seemed to pass as if by magic, the time just dissolving somehow. Dinner came and went; coffee and dessert were served and cleared away again. Jim floated on the tide of it all, his Guide the only thing that really registered in his awareness, the anchor that kept him grounded. Now that Jim had him back, he needed to keep a hand on him at all times, making sure that strong, compact body stayed pressed close to his.
Eventually, the evening was over. People began to stand up and drift away, to their own rooms, to the den to watch television, outside to the terrace for a breath of fresh air. His Guide had grown quiet, watching him with large, solemn eyes. Finally Blair stood up and held out his hand. Jim took it without hesitation, letting his lover lead him upstairs to their room. Any concerns or doubts he'd ever had fell away from him. He went with his Guide willingly, eagerly, his heart thudding in his chest. //Let the Guide guide.// That thought echoed inside him along with his runaway pulse.
Once inside their room, Blair undressed them both, quickly, efficiently. By now, Jim was swimming in a sea of sensory input, and he let Blair take charge, content simply to float on a cloud of his love's essence.
Finally, Blair stood before him naked, his shoulders thrown back, posing for him, letting feverish Sentinel eyes rake over his bare flesh. "We haven't completely reformed our connection yet," Blair told him. "You haven't finished tasting me."
Jim growled, a deep, raw sound in the back of his throat.
Blair smiled, his eyes filled with desire. "That's right, lover. It's time to reclaim your territory."
"Are you sure?" Jim had to ask, had to make sure.
"I want to make love with you."
"But..."
Blair grabbed his arm and pulled him close, pressing their naked bodies together, causing them both to gasp. "Nothing too major tonight, okay? Just us, together again, the way we should be."
Jim stroked both his hands through Blair's hair. The curls felt so warm and alive, twining around his fingers. He kissed his lover's forehead. "Yes, please, I want that."
Blair took his hand and led him to the bed. They lay down together, facing one another, still holding hands. Blair's eyes flickered over him in appraisal. Jim could not control his breathing as he felt his lover's gaze moving sensually down his body. Just the thought of making love with Blair once more had been enough to make him hard, and now his Guide's lovingly appreciative glance made him even harder.
Blair looked deeply into his eyes, questioningly, and he nodded. Yes, he was ready, so very eager to love and be loved. He leaned in for another of his Guide's kisses, this one tasting of spice and bitter chocolate, wine, tenderness. He stroked Blair's tongue with his own, teasing and exploring, mapping all the minute gradations in the flesh, feeling the rough rise of taste buds, the dip at its center, the strong muscle on the underside. His Guide was an endless mystery; there was always something new to learn about him. He wanted to know everything, hungry for each new revelation, every small morsel of information. More than anything else, he craved the intimacy that came from such knowledge.
He moved Blair onto his back and held himself above him, looking down at his Guide. Blair watched him intently, blue eyes locked onto him, reaching up to trace the bones of his face with shaking fingers. Jim pressed a kiss to his lover's palm as it passed by his lips, and Blair smiled at him sweetly, apparently understanding all that simple gesture was meant to convey.
For the first time in his life, Jim felt the true gift of his senses, without worry, without resisting them. Lying naked with Blair, their bodies pressed together so tenderly, he understood, at long last, the meaning of ecstasy, the measure of joy. It was the sharp, rich scent of his lover's arousal, telling him just how much Blair wanted him. It was every whimper, groan, gasp, begging little whisper that escaped his Guide's lips, each one an expression of love and desire. It was the exquisite intimacy of bare flesh brushing against bare flesh, the living, pulsing warmth of naked skin trembling beneath questing fingers. It was the sight of a wanton, passion-drunk Blair stretched out beneath him, arching like a cat into his caresses, twisting and writhing with want. It was the delicate taste of the inside of a wrist, the salty pleasure of collarbone and chest, the sugary brown sweetness of aroused nipples, the earthy richness in the crease between thigh and groin, the welcome bitterness of precum dripping from his lover's cock.
It was Blair, filling his awareness, imprinted on each one of his senses, the most valuable gift he'd ever received, the everlasting bond of Sentinel to Guide, sacred birthright.
In some part of his heart, Jim understood perfectly how important this was. He took his time as he relearned his Guide, not wanting to rush any kiss or caress, refusing to shortchange any of his senses or miss out on touching and tasting any part of Blair's body. It was a fact-finding mission after all, and he acquired much new knowledge. One of Blair's nipple, the right, was more sensitive than the other--he'd known that before. But one of his elbows, the left, tasted minutely saltier than its mate. That was a new discovery.
"Jim, please..." Blair moaned, thrashing his head from side to side, begging Jim to finish it.
"Yes," Jim agreed, unbearably hard himself, more than ready for release.
Blair spread his legs wide, and Jim moved on top of him, positioning himself, gently pressing their erections together. //Like coming home.// Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. Finally, he was back where he belonged. He reached between their bodies, using their own juices, spreading the slickness between them, easing the way. Blair began to move, impatient, thrusting against Jim's body, groaning loudly, desperate for more. Jim thrust back, matching him stroke for stroke, both of them reclaiming the rhythm of their mutual pleasure.
It had been too long, and neither of them could last or even wanted to. Jim felt the wet warmth of Blair's orgasm against his stomach and that prompted him to follow his Guide over the edge, his throat dry with excitement and emotion, his whole body shaking. This was what he'd been missing all those times when he'd fucked Blair silly only to feel so empty and unsatisfied. Finally, he was making love to his Guide again, reforging their amazing connection, their bond, his one hope, the only thing that could turn the nightmare of heightened senses into this unique power and joy.
With whatever small corner of his mind that was still operational, he thought to relieve his lover of the burden of his weight, rolling over onto his back, pulling Blair against his side.
They lay entangled in each other's arms, and Jim blinked back the tears. "I missed this," he told Blair. "I missed you."
Blair smiled and snuggled closer. "Me too."
Jim pressed a kiss to his lover's forehead. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you all those months. I'm sorry we lost that time. It's been so long, too long, since I loved you, *really* loved you. I can't tell you how much I regret that, Chief."
"I'm just glad to have you back," Blair said, laying his head on Jim's chest.
Jim tightened his arms around Blair, cradling him. "I'm still worried," he admitted. "Even though this was so wonderful, I just keep waiting for the other thing to come back." As he said the words, he could feel the sick sense of dread seeping into his veins.
"I know. I'm worried too. But we'll figure it out. We'll take care of it. I was thinking maybe..."
"What?"
"I don't know how you'll feel about it."
"If you've got some ideas, I want to hear them, Chief."
"I was thinking it might be helpful if you talked to Elizabeth about it."
Jim felt his color rise. "Umm...didn't you already tell her?"
"I told her what I knew before you got here. I'm sorry. I was worried about you. I didn't know what else to do."
Jim shook his head. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You did the right thing. So you told her about that night?"
Blair nodded. "And about what happened afterwards, that you stopped touching me. She was the one who realized you'd broken the bond and that you were in trouble."
"And you think it could help if I told her the rest of it?"
"She's had experience with lots of Sentinels. Maybe she's heard of something like this before. I think it's the best place to start, if you're up to it."
Jim watched Blair carefully, seeing the urgency in his face, even though he was trying to hide it. "Yes, I can do that. I just hope she can help with this...whatever this thing is. I don't ever want to hurt you or cause you to leave again."
Blair caressed his arm. "Have some faith, Jim. We're Sentinel and Guide. Destiny is on our side."
* * * * * * *
Elizabeth looked up from her paperwork and found Jim hovering in the doorway of her office.
"Hi," she said and smiled.
"Hi," he said, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. ""Uh, Elizabeth, I just...is this a good time or are you busy?"
She'd been wondering if and when he'd come talk to her about it. She was glad he finally had. "Actually, this is a great time. I've got a light patient load today, and I'm not seeing anyone else until four."
"You're in the middle of paperwork. I don't want to interrupt."
She smiled at him. "You're not interrupting. Come in. Sit down. Please."
He looked almost dejected she didn't have anything pressing to do, but he came in anyway and sat down in the chair opposite her. She gave him a moment to settle in, to get his bearings. He looked around the room, curiously, still a little unnerved, taking it all in.
"So what do you think?" she asked.
"It's nice," he said. "Not exactly what I expected."
"That's good then. I didn't want it to feel too much like a shrink's office."
Elizabeth had decorated her new space with comfortable, overstuffed furniture, light colored and cheerful, with plenty of homey knickknacks spread throughout. She had the requisite couch, but she'd covered it in throw pillows to make it less imposing. There were two chairs as well, so her patients had a choice about where to sit, whatever would make them feel most at ease.
"I'm still nervous," Jim confessed.
"There's no need," she told him. "I'm not your psychiatrist. I'm your friend. I promise not to do therapy on you. But I'd be happy to listen if you want to tell me about it. I really would like to help."
Jim nodded. "I appreciate that. It's just kind of hard, you know?"
"I sure do, Jim. It's never easy to talk about intimate things like these, but I really do think it will help us figure out what's going on and how we can fix it. So if you're up to it, tell me what happened, whatever you feel comfortable enough to confide in me. I'll probably end up asking a lot of questions. It's kind of a hazard of the profession. But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."
"Okay. I think I can do that. I mean, I really do want to figure this thing out, and I know Blair already told you what happened that night."
"Yes, he did. But I'd like to hear about it from your perspective. I kind of got the feeling from him that it wasn't just about that one night. There was something more going on, wasn't there?"
He nodded. "It started out so insidiously it took me a while even to recognize that something odd was going on. But I definitely knew something was wrong...oh, a good month before that night."
"So what was happening to you?"
He smiled slightly. "It's funny to see you in shrink mode."
She smiled back at him. "I guess it's harder to get out of my professional demeanor here in this office than I thought. Maybe we should go into the living room?"
"No, that's okay. I'm just used to your being Elizabeth, another Sentinel, not Dr. Knowlton, the psychiatrist."
"So tell me, Sentinel to Sentinel, what happened?"
"I don't even know. It was like something came over me...this terrible need. I just couldn't get enough of him."
"Sexually?"
Jim blushed and nodded.
"Was it a specific kind of sexual contact you wanted?"
He nodded again. "Yes...um, intercourse. Me...ah, doing it to him."
"Was that a usual part of your sexual relationship?"
"Yes."
"Was it the main part?"
"Not really. We do it...have intercourse, I mean, usually a couple of times a week. We do other stuff the rest of the time."
"Oral sex, mutual masturbation?" she asked.
Elizabeth watched him carefully. If he were anyone else, someone without covert ops training, he would have flinched openly. He managed to keep his stoic demeanor in place. But she knew he was an extremely private person and answering questions about his lovemaking with his partner was about the last thing he'd ever want to do. She took it as a testament to the true depth of his love for Blair that he'd make a sacrifice like this for him.
"Yes," he finally answered. "Both...we give each other hand jobs and blow jobs whenever we don't have time or are too tired for intercourse. Or when that's just what feels good."
"But you don't normally have intercourse with Blair as the active partner?"
"Actually, we've never done it that way. I mean, we talked about it at the beginning. We both kind of assumed that we'd switch off, but somehow it just never happened. And then we stopped even talking about it. I don't know...I guess it just seemed...do you think that's significant?"
"I don't know, Jim. That's probably up to you to decide. Can you tell me more about how it felt when you couldn't control your desire for Blair? How did it differ from how you usually felt about him?"
Jim thought it over. "Before I...it used to always be about Blair. I wanted *him*, not just sexually. It was a complete thing, you know? I wanted to touch him, kiss him, talk to him, spend time with him, make love with him, *enjoy* him. That's how I eventually figured out that something was really wrong. It became less and less about him, less about our relationship, and more and more just about the sex. Am I making sense here?"
"Completely. Did you ever want other partners?"
"No. It was always Blair."
"And you always fixated on intercourse?"
"Yes."
"Was the sex satisfying? Did you achieve orgasm?"
Jim couldn't look at her, keeping his eyes glued to the hands resting in his lap. He went silent.
"I'm sorry to have to ask you that. I know it's extremely private, and I'd certainly understand if this was one of those questions you'd rather not answer. But if you can talk about it, I think it's important. It could really help our understanding of whatever this is."
"That's the worst part of all," Jim mumbled, and if she weren't a Sentinel, she never would have heard him.
"What, Jim?"
"It was *never* satisfying, *never* enough. I mean, I always came, but I can't say I ever really enjoyed it. It didn't make us closer the way it used to. It felt...I don't know, mechanical somehow, like even though I was driven to fuck him, it wasn't by passion."
"It was a compulsion?"
"Yes, exactly."
"And it escalated?"
Jim nodded. "I just kept needing it worse and worse, but the more sex I had, the less satisfying it was."
"And that night?"
"I guess things just reached a crisis point. I'm not sure really. I still don't remember a lot of it. I just know what Blair told me."
"Tell me what you do recall."
"I remember coming home, eating dinner. Sitting on the sofa afterwards, talking, kissing. I dimly recall going upstairs, getting undressed, starting to make love. But that's it. After that, it's a blank, until I came to and found Blair beneath me...and his blood on me."
"He told me it wasn't serious."
"I hurt my Guide, Elizabeth. I made him bleed."
"I know, Jim. I understand."
"Do you? Do you have any idea what that feels like?"
She nodded. "I might have only thought I hurt Sam, but it was real enough to me at the time. I really believed I had his blood on my hands. I know how horrible that is."
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I know what you went through. I didn't mean to discount it."
"I know you didn't. I've thought about it a lot over the last two years, and I really believe that the impulse to protect the Guide runs so deep in us that we have an actual physical aversion to spilling our Guide's blood. It hurts us, quite literally."
"When I realized what I'd done to him, when I saw and smelled his blood, I...it's hard to describe."
"Did it kind of feel like you'd been electrocuted?"
He nodded. "Yeah, that's as close to it as I think you could get--a kind of sick, shocked feeling all over, and the sense that I deserved the pain, that it was my punishment," he said sadly.
"You'd never had a problem with his bleeding from intercourse before?"
He shook his head. "We were always very careful. That's why we only did it when we had plenty of time. I never wanted to hurt him."
Elizabeth put her hand on his arm. He looked so full of despair it broke her heart. "Of course you didn't want to hurt him. No one doubts that, certainly not Blair."
"I don't know how he can forgive me."
"Because he loves you, and he realizes there's something more at work here."
"Does any of this sound familiar? Have you ever heard of anything like it with other Sentinels?"
"Not with any of the others. But it does kind of remind me...let me just throw out something here. I don't know if this is it, so bear with me."
"Sure. Please. I want to hear any ideas you have."
"Well, this isn't anything I learned in medical school or my Sentinel research or anything. It's just something I've talked about with friends. It seems to be something a lot of women go through in their 30s if they haven't already had children. When they're ovulating, they notice a marked increase in sex drive. It makes them restless and aggressive and....well, horny really."
"Horny, huh?"
"Very. It's almost compulsive, like they can't get enough no matter how much sex they have."
"Well, that sounds familiar."
"The problem is that it's not really about sex, at least not for pleasure's sake. It's a reproductive impulse."
"Elizabeth, are you suggesting I'm in heat?"
"Sort of. Maybe your body is pushing you to procreate. You know, the old biological clock thing. The drive to reproduce is the most basic instinct we have, and it's extremely powerful. That would explain why the sex was never satisfying. The women I know say the same thing. It doesn't matter how many orgasms they have. If they don't make a baby, the compulsion doesn't go away, and they don't feel satiated."
"How do women stand it?"
"Fortunately, we're not fertile all the time. We get our periods, and it goes away."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I wish I were that lucky."
Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow. "You wouldn't think so the first time you had cramps. Anyway, Jim, this is just a theory, one possibility. Does it resonate at all? Have you ever thought of having children?"
"Well, the way you describe how your women friends feel--that sounds familiar. In fact, it's almost exactly like what I've been going through. But honestly, I've never really given kids much thought."
"That's not especially surprising. As I said, it's a biological impulse. Your head and heart may not want kids, while your body does."
Jim hesitated, and she watched him working something out for himself. "I have...kids have been on my mind these days. I actually asked to hold Carla, and I liked it."
Elizabeth broke into a smile. "My little angel wins people over like that."
"It felt really great to hold her. And I...one of the hallucinations I had when my senses were all screwed up was of a little boy."
"So maybe this is a Sentinel-induced drive toward procreation. We may all have an especially powerful urge to pass along our genes, since they're of particular value to the tribe. You always wanted Blair and not some other partner, because as your Guide, he's the most genetically advantageous choice."
"Except, of course, that he's a man."
"But he's your mate, and your body may not quite process the fact that you can't make him pregnant. That's why you always wanted intercourse, why you kept getting more and more desperate, why you kept needing more and more sex."
"I was trying to knock him up."
"Not consciously, of course, but on some level. Maybe. I don't know. It's just a theory, Jim. It would help explain what happened that night when you lost control. Your behavior was driven by instinct, bypassing the higher cognitive processes. That would explain why you don't remember it."
"What the hell am I supposed to do about this, Elizabeth, if that's really what's going on?"
"I don't know, Jim. I mean, if you want kids, there are options. You and Blair will have to sit down together and decide how you want to proceed."
"What are we going to do if we decide against it? How am I going to get this to stop?"
"Some women decide not to have children, and they find a way to manage the drive. I feel pretty sure that being conscious of it will help. If the two of you decide not to have children, you'll have to find a way to channel that energy. Maybe meditation or martial arts discipline. I'm sure Blair can help figure something out."
"I don't want to tell him this."
Elizabeth sighed and shook her head.
"I know," Jim said. "It's how this all got so out of hand in the first place, but I know how he'll react and I don't want to hurt him."
"It doesn't have to be a bad thing. The two of you could have a family together. I really think you'd be wonderful parents."
"He'll jump to conclusions. He'll blame himself for not being able to give me what I need. He'll think I ought to be with someone else."
"He knows better than that."
"This hits on all his insecurities about us."
"I really think you're underestimating him."
"And I'm not sure if this is even it. I mean, it sounds like it, but..."
"Maybe you should take some time and think it over. Go with your gut. If you really feel this isn't it, we'll explore it further. We *will* figure it out, I promise."
"Yeah, okay, I'll think it over, see what I come up with."
"But don't put off talking about it with him too long. It really is only going to make it worse."
"I just don't want to hurt him any more than I already have."
"I understand that, but just from my own experience with Sam, I really do believe that what hurts our Guides the most is shutting them out."
Jim nodded sadly. "I know you're right."
"So let him in."
"I'm really trying. I swear I am. I just don't want to lose him."
Elizabeth patted his arm. "You won't, Jim. There aren't many sure things in the world, but Sentinels and Guides staying together, that's one of them."
* * * * * * *
<<< Jim was alone in the jungle, and the light was fading. This was not a good state of affairs. The last place he wanted to be was lost in the thick cover of the rain forest, without food or water, far from camp, stranded overnight. Human beings never thought of themselves as prey, but he had enough experience with the wilderness to know there were plenty of animal species that didn't share the opinion. He stopped for a moment to try and get his bearings, using his Sentinel senses, searching for any clues, something, so he would know which way to go.
There was nothing, just the predictable sounds of wind and wildlife. He headed on in the same direction, something compelling him, drawing him onward. Somehow, this path felt well worn, as if he'd traveled it before, but he couldn't quite place it. He picked up the pace, walking faster and faster, before breaking into a run. Ahead of him, he could see a clearing, maybe a mile off. He hurried. There was something there, waiting--an answer, a miracle, the key to his future.
He pushed through the dense underbrush and stepped out into clear light. And there it was. The Temple of the Jaguars. At last.
Jim could never have predicted the warm rush of feeling that went through him. //Home.// His blood sang with that single, perfect word. At last, he had found the one place he belonged completely, the ancestral home of all Sentinels, the sacred source.
He dropped to his knees, clutching his hands together, reverently, almost prayerfully. //I finally found it. Thank you. Thank you.// The structure was deceptively simple in appearance, the walls formed of stone blocks, light grey, rough cut, with a large bronze door, two paneled, elaborately carved with mythic scenes that he couldn't quite decipher, but that still felt familiar somehow. A pair of jaguars, carved from pale, smooth stone, probably marble, guarded the entrance.
It was like a siren song, the temple calling to him. He had never wanted anything so badly. He approached slowly, breathing heavily, his heart racing, a thrill of excitement inside him. He stood by the door and touched it lightly, fingering the deep lines and grooves of the reliefs, studying them in detail, trying to commit them to memory, so they would always be part of him. He took a deep breath, holding it in anticipation, and prepared to go inside, finally, to discover the secrets that were the special legacy of all Sentinels.
But the door wouldn't budge. The knob didn't turn, and the heavy bronze panels sat immovable on their hinges. He tried again and again, tugging, pushing against it with his shoulder, banging and calling to anyone who might hear him. He kept at it so long that he broke into a heavy sweat from the exertion, and he cursed loudly and repeatedly, beginning to lose his temper. He had never felt more disappointed or a greater sense of desperation. Everything that could ever matter was on the other side of that door. He had to get in. He'd never needed anything so much in his life.
"Only true initiates can pass through the door," a voice spoke behind him, as spare and elusive as the wind, as old as time, filled with the wisdom of the ages.
He turned, and it was Elizabeth, or at least something that looked like her, a pale, ghostly version of the person he knew.
"To be welcome in the temple, you must open your heart fully," another voice said, stepping out of the jungle's deep shadows, a spirit in the form of Elena.
"You must have no secrets. You cannot be ruled by fear," someone said behind him, and he whirled around to find a Clare look-alike.
"Can you help me open the door?" he asked.
"Why?" the Elena spirit answered his question with one of her own.
"I want to go inside," he said.
"Why?" Elizabeth asked.
"I *need* what's in there," he said, irritably, his voice beginning to rise.
"What do you believe that is?" Clare urged him.
"I don't know exactly...something important, answers maybe."
"You already have all the answers inside you. All you have to do is set them free," Elena told him.
"I don't know what that means. Why can't you people, or whatever you are, speak in plain English instead of riddles?"
"Why are you here?" Elizabeth asked, ignoring his outburst.
"I don't know," he said.
"Yes, you do," Elena argued.
"It's...I'm having a problem, with my Guide."
"Your Guide is the problem?" Clare asked.
"No!" Jim said, frustrated. "*I'm* the problem. I...I hurt my Guide. I can't control myself around him."
"Good," Clare said, approving of him. "It's important to understand the source of one's troubles, that they do not come from outside but from within."
"What do I do?" Jim asked, feeling increasingly desperate.
"What is the problem?" Elizabeth asked.
"I just told you."
"No," Elena said. "What is the problem?"
"I want something from him. I need it. Very badly," Jim answered, lowering his eyes.
"What do you want?" Clare asked.
"Sex," he whispered.
"No," she said. "What do you want?"
"Completion?" he guessed, feeling surprised that this was what had come to mind.
"Yes," Elizabeth said. "Completion. It is natural for Sentinels and Guides to seek this from one another."
"But you can never get what you're unwilling to give," Elena explained.
"I'd give him anything he wanted, I swear I would. I'd do *anything* for him," Jim declared passionately.
"No," Clare said. "There is something you have not done, have not given."
"What do you withhold from your Guide?" Elena asked.
"Nothing!" he yelled, his temper flaring.
"Yes," Elizabeth said. "What do you withhold from your Guide? What have you made it impossible for him even to ask you?"
"Stop saying that!" he screamed.
"What do you refuse your Guide?" Clare asked, her voice cool and level.
Jim couldn't stop the tears; they ran down his cheeks. "Completion! There! I've said it. Are you happy?"
Elena regarded him a long moment, her unearthly eyes boring into him, as if he were the mystery and she were trying to figure him out. "Why do you refuse him?"
He closed his eyes tightly against the pain. "I'm afraid," he admitted.
"What are you afraid of?" Elizabeth asked.
"I don't know. Maybe that it will make me less of a man."
"That is a reasonable explanation. However, it is not the correct one," Elizabeth said.
"I'm trying to answer your questions," Jim protested.
"But we don't believe you," Elena said.
"*You* don't believe you," Clare added.
"Completion is not a single act," Elizabeth explained.
"The act of intercourse is merely a symbol of what you are actually afraid to give," Clare said.
"You have given others the gift of your body," Elena said.
"So why never to your Guide?" Elizabeth said.
"Because it is not sex that is important, but completion," Clare said.
"Why do you deny your Guide completion when it is what all Sentinels and Guides seek from one another?" Elena asked.
"What do you fear?" Elizabeth asked.
Jim hesitated, wrestling with the answer. Finally he said, his voice a mere whisper, "That if I give him everything I am, he'll finally understand that I don't deserve him, and he'll leave. " His voice shook with a repressed terror he'd never before allowed into consciousness.
The three women looked at each other with puzzled expressions, and Jim felt certain there was communication in their silence.
"We do not understand *deserve* in this instance," Clare said. "This Guide is for you. A Guide does not leave his Sentinel. You know this already. *Deserve* has no meaning here."
"He died because of me," Jim said, letting the old, unresolved guilt out into the open.
Elizabeth shook her head. "He died because he is the Shaman and must live in both worlds at once. His death created the door."
"And your love allowed him to return back through it, to be reborn," Elena said.
"In the earthly realm, the Guide anchors the Sentinel, but in the spirit land, it is the Sentinel who anchors the Guide," Clare explained.
"I don't want to hurt him ever again," Jim whispered.
"So don't," Elena said, the smallest hint of a smile lighting her face.
"How can I be sure?" he asked.
"When the need to take is overpowering, it is time to give," Clare said.
"When the urge is to dominate, it is necessary to surrender," Elizabeth said.
"Fear of loss creates an imbalance. This is always a destructive force," Elena told him.
"Sentinels and Guides must be equal partners," Elizabeth said.
"They may keep no secrets from one another," Clare said.
"They must bring each other completion," Elena said.
"Your Guide has already given himself to you without reserve," Elizabeth said.
"Now you must do the same for him," Clare said. >>>
Jim woke with a start and sat up. It took a moment to get his bearings--guest bedroom, Elizabeth's house, late afternoon, he'd lain down for a nap and had a dream. A moment later, it registered that he wasn't alone.
"Are you okay, man?" Blair asked, concerned, hovering in the doorway.
"Yeah, Chief. I'm okay."
"A nightmare?"
He shook his head. "Not really. More like a dream, but kind of frustrating, you know?"
Blair sat down on the bed beside him. "Mmmm," he said, and Jim could tell he was focused on something else.
"It's okay," he reassured his lover.
"What?" Blair asked, surprise in his eyes.
"Whatever it is that's making your heart beat just a little bit too fast."
Blair smiled softly. "It's no use trying to keep anything from a Sentinel, is it?"
He shook his head. "And you never need to. It's okay, whatever you want to say, Chief. Just go ahead."
"It was something I wanted to ask you. I was just wondering if you'd talked to Elizabeth, you know, about what's going on."
Jim nodded. "Yeah, this morning, while you were out on the porch."
"So?" Blair asked, curiosity blazing across his face. "Had she heard of anything like this with other Sentinels? Did she have any ideas?"
"No other cases, but she did have a theory," Jim said.
"What, man? Tell me," Blair demanded, with barely repressed excitement.
Jim had hoped to put off talking with Blair about Elizabeth's theory as long as possible, but he should have known that would be impossible. Of course, Blair had every right to know, but he was afraid of his reaction. His lover was very sensitive, and they were still in the process of patching things up. He didn't want anything to get in the way of that. Besides, now that he'd had the dream, he wasn't entirely sure that Elizabeth's hypothesis was even right. He just needed a little more time to think it through, before trying to explain it to Blair, before he was ready to take action.
A pair of insistent blue eyes bored into him. He didn't have time for all that. Blair needed to know now. "She thinks it's my Sentinel biological clock ticking," he said.
Blair frowned, looking puzzled. "You mean..."
"Elizabeth thinks there's something about my Sentinel biology that's pushing me to reproduce. That's why I always want intercourse, why I started calling it fucking, why I could never get satisfied, because it's not about love or pleasure. It's about offspring. That's why it didn't quite feel human. It's the most primitive kind of urge driving me. Elizabeth said something about it bypassing the higher levels of processing. I'm not sure what that means exactly, but she seemed to think you'd get it."
A flash of understanding lit Blair's face. "That would explain why you couldn't remember what happened that last time. It was like a zone out, but with a purpose, like your instincts hijacked you and were completely driving your behavior. That's why it didn't register in your consciousness. That also explains why it escalated, why you kept getting more and more frustrated and desperate, because of course you couldn't actually make me pregnant. So you had to keep trying."
"It's just a theory, Chief."
Blair slid off the bed and paced back and forth. "But it makes a lot of sense, man. I mean, the desire to reproduce is one of the strongest, most primal instincts we have. There's a whole branch of biology, called socio-biology, that sees all human behavior as ultimately originating from that drive to thrive. Given how important the Sentinel is to the survival of the tribe, your instinct may be especially pronounced," he said, his hands moving expressively as he spoke, until suddenly he stopped in his tracks. "But where does this leave us, man? I mean, you can fuck me until the end of time, and you're never gonna knock me up, no matter how potent you are, big guy."
Jim appreciated his lover's attempt at levity, but he wasn't the least bit fooled by it. He recognized the very real fear in his eyes.
"All it means for us is that we have one more problem to solve with this Sentinel thing, like all the other ones we've handled together."
"Maybe this is different. Maybe you need...you should have kids, Jim."
"What?"
"I mean it. I don't want to stand in your way, and the world could use more people like you, with your gift."
"Blair--"
"I'm not saying it would be easy for me to stand by, while you...but I'd find some way to handle it. I'd have to."
Jim cocked his head and looked at his lover skeptically. "And where do you think I'm going to find a woman interested in that kind of arrangement, who'll give birth to my child but doesn't care that I'm in love with you and plan to spend the rest of my life at your side."
"Not all women are looking for husbands these days. Some women just want a baby. I mean, it is the 90s and all. We could ask around, put in a personal ad or something. You never know, there might be..."
Jim shook his head. "I don't think so, Chief. It's hard enough raising a child, without trying to do it with a stranger you don't have any feelings for."
Blair paled. "Or maybe...I don't know, man. Maybe you need a traditional family. Maybe..."
"No."
Blair was so relieved he looked like he was about to cry.
"What did you think I was going to say, baby? Thanks for the last five years, but I have to move on now so I can turn out a kid or two before the biological alarm goes off. Never gonna happen, Chief."
"I...ummm..."
Jim pulled him close and hugged him hard. "We're forever, Blair. We both have to learn to trust in that, okay?"
Blair nodded and then was quiet, thinking. "We could check into other alternatives."
"Adoption?"
"Yeah. Or a donated egg carried by a surrogate. That wouldn't have the same legal and emotional issues as finding a woman to co-parent with."
"What do *you* think?" Jim asked.
"I don't know, man. I mean, I have to admit that I never really gave it much thought. I kind of assumed that since we were together having a child just wasn't in the cards for me, and I was, like, fine with that. But now that I'm thinking about it, there's a part of me that would really love to raise a kid with you. I mean, you'd be an awesome father, and I think I'd be pretty good, too."
Jim smiled at him fondly. "You'd be wonderful."
Blair leaned in to give Jim a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, man. I appreciate that. So, yeah, on the one hand, it's kind of an exciting prospect. But then there's a part of me that wonders if we'd even be able to get a child since we're two men and if we did, I'd worry that someone could come back later and take the kid away from us because they didn't like our lifestyle or some shit like that. I can't imagine anything more devastating than losing a child you've grown to love. And finally, there's just this selfish part of me that wonders how we'd manage it all with our schedules and all the pressures we already have and the Sentinel stuff on top of everything else. Something would have to give, and it couldn't be the kid because that would be wrong. It couldn't be our jobs because we'd have, like, a family to support. So it would be *us*, our relationship that would suffer, and I'm greedy, man. I *want* my Jim-time. I know it's probably not the right time to be deciding this because I'm still not over missing you. But finally, I'm just not sure if I'm up to the challenge of raising a child. I mean, I realize that no one ever really *knows*, and you just do the best you can and all. I guess I'm just not sure if it's what I want."
"Me either."
"What?" Blair asked, completely taken aback.
"It's my body and my instincts that are hot to reproduce. My mind and my heart have serious doubts."
"So you don't think you want a child?"
Jim tried to organize his thoughts. "It's...if we could make a baby together, I don't think there would be any question. I'd want to create that with you, bring new life into the world that was a part of us both, a representation of our love. That would be just...oh God, I don't know how to even begin to describe how amazing that would be. But I don't want to make a baby with anyone else, and I don't think I want to raise somebody else's child. I'm just not that selfless. *I* don't want to give up my Blair-time."
Blair nodded, looking pensive. "So what do we do about that ticking Sentinel clock of yours?"
"Like I said before, it's only a theory. Elizabeth had never seen anything like this before in any of the other Sentinels, and she was just making her best guess based on what I could tell her. There could be another explanation."
"I don't know, man."
"I think it might be more specifically about us than just some biological urge gone mad, more about our connection, about how I am in our relationship, something about Sentinels and Guides that I haven't quite gotten straight. It's unbalancing how we are with one another."
"How..."
"The dream. I was at the temple. There were...well, I don't know exactly what they were, some kind of spirits, I guess. They talked to me. They said a lot of things. I just need some time to think about it, to figure it out."
"I can help you."
"Not this time, Chief."
"Jim, I thought we agreed..."
"I know, I know. But I swear, it's not like that. I don't know how I know this, Chief, but this is just something I have to do on my own. It's my responsibility. Only I can figure it out."
Blair looked torn, wanting to trust him but still skittish from their recent experience.
"I promise, baby. I'm not shutting you out. I just need a little time, twenty-four hours, to figure things out, then I'll tell you everything. Can you give me that? Can you trust me?"
Blair looked at him, appraisingly, searching his face for signs. "Okay, Jim. I'm down with that, and I *do* trust you. Just make sure you trust me back, huh?"
Jim nodded and took his lover into his arms. "You got it, Chief, and thank you. You won't regret it. I promise."
* * * * * * *
It was like being a beggar at someone else's feast, cold and hungry while the party-goers were comfortable and well fed. That's how she felt watching the warm connection of the people inside that house--cast outside the circle of happiness, invisible, uninvited, unwanted. She was so cold and alone, unloved, isolated, unseen--all the things she'd struggled with since her Sentinel had died, intensified now by the painful comparison.
And angry, more angry than she could ever remember feeling in her life.
When she'd first arrived in San Francisco, she'd gone directly to Dr. Knowlton's house, only to find that the doctor and her husband had moved. In the end, it had proved only a small setback. She had been able to track them down easily enough. But somehow it had incensed her. She realized it bordered on paranoia, but she couldn't help feeling that the doctor was hiding from her, trying to deny her the second chance she needed so desperately, intending to keep this new Sentinel from her. She could not understand how the homing instinct had failed, why it had not led her directly to the doctor as it had years before. She hesitated to explore that thought too closely, afraid of what she would find, the nagging doubt that had been with her since she had decided on this course of action. She pushed the uncertainty away and settled instead on blaming the doctor, determined not to let the other woman steal this opportunity away from her.
After she found the new address, she'd jumped into a taxi and had gone straight there. She'd fully intended to knock on the door and state her demand up front. //I want a new Sentinel to guide.// She'd even managed to get as far as the front porch, poised to ring the bell, when something had come over her, and she just couldn't do it. She'd quickly turned back, running down the steps, walking hurriedly up the block, her heart pounding, as if she were in terrible danger. She had no idea why she'd reacted that way.
Since then, she'd come back every day and hovered near the house, across the street or down the block, like some kind of phantom, the same insubstantial feeling she'd had back at the grain warehouse. She'd not had the courage to approach the house again, but she'd had plenty of time to observe its occupants. What she had seen only served to make her more angry. She was so alone, and they were so connected to one another, a house full of Sentinels and their Guides, lovers, lifemates, friends, inseparable, now and for always. In her heart, the seeds of envy had already been planted. As she'd stood alone and miserable outside that house that was so full of life, those seeds had begun to germinate, sending their roots deep into her soul, growing, unfurling, producing a bitter harvest.
That's when she had begun to hate them, with every fiber of her being.
All of them, except for the one Sentinel she had sensed, the one she had come all the way from Cascade to find. This one she coveted. This one she already claimed as her own. The initial flash of instinct had told her that this Sentinel was not very strong, with only a very weak bond with another Guide. Now that she had arrived, she found that the connection was stronger than she had thought, but it was by no means complete. She could still have this Sentinel for herself. She could still get what she wanted. She still had a shot at regaining the extraordinary life. All she had to do was reach out and take it.
Instinct also told her they would try to stop her, all of them, all the Sentinels and Guides in that house. They would not understand. They mistakenly believed this Sentinel was destined for another. She would not try to reason with them. She would not knock on the door and ask for what she wanted. That seemed like pathetic groveling, and she hated them far too much to give them that satisfaction, to give them the opportunity to further deny her, to make her any more of an outcast than she already was.
No, she would take matters into her own hands. She would use their weaknesses against them. Her sojourn at the grain warehouse had given her all the information she needed to outmaneuver them. She'd seen into all the doctor's worst fears. She knew the other woman's guilt as if it were her own. She would use it all to her advantage.
Whatever conscience or fear or moral scruple she'd ever had was gone now. No matter what she had to do, she would not let them stop her. She *would* get what she wanted. She *would* be a Guide again.
Only then she would be complete.
* * * * * * *
Part V
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