Disclaimers: The characters from The Sentinel do not belong to me. I'm only borrowing them for a little non-profit romance and adventure. No copyright infringement intended. Ideas about the nature and healing of psychological trauma, attributed to a character in the story, are taken from TRAUMA AND RECOVERY (HarperCollins, 1992) by Dr. Judith Lewis Herman, M.D. "Final Notations" by Adrienne Rich from AN ATLAS OF THE DIFFICULT WORLD (W.W. Norton & Co., 1991) is quoted without permission. Again, no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit of any kind is being made.
"You know her?" Elizabeth asked, surprised.
"As Alex Barnes," Jim explained.
"Oh no. Oh Blair, I'm so sorry," she said.
He shook his head, getting control of himself. "You knew, didn't you?"
Jim couldn't look him in the eye. "Yeah."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want you to have to go through that again. You just finally dealt with it. I didn't want there to be a setback."
"Jesus, Jim, give me some credit. Is that what all this big production about my going back to the loft was all about?"
"She almost killed you once, Blair. I *have* to protect you this time."
"Well, back off, man. I'm not some fragile flower here. I can deal."
"You weren't there today, Blair. It was like all hell broke loose. I just don't want you to get caught in the middle of that. Okay?"
Blair sighed. "Okay. But next time, don't leave me in the dark, man. That's not the way to look out for me."
Jim nodded. "All right. I promise. Next time, you know what I know."
"Good."
"Elizabeth, can you tell me what you remember? How did you meet Alex Barnes?" Jim asked.
"She came to me as a patient. She said her name was Alicia Bannister. She was very agitated, complaining about heightened senses and terrible headaches. But somehow she just gave me this very bad feeling, and even though there was nothing amiss about her vital signs, I didn't quite believe her."
"Why?" Blair asked.
Elizabeth frowned, trying to put her finger on it. "She just seemed a little too...eager to tell me about her senses. None of the others ever reacted that way. In fact, they'd go to almost any lengths to avoid it. I usually had to put on a little demonstration of my own abilities to get them to confide in me. I mean, I'm a *psychiatrist*. They didn't want me to think they were crazy."
Blair's eyes went wide. "Others? You've worked with other Sentinels?"
She nodded. "They just started showing up about three years ago. There have been nine in all so far. I don't know. I think it's my role somehow in this whole Sentinel thing. Helping other Sentinels when they first get their senses, helping them understand what's happening to them, until they find their Guides. At first, I just thought it was a coincidence. I treat trauma, and that's how many Sentinels acquire their senses. Not to mention the fact that the senses themselves can be pretty traumatic at first. But after a while, the sheer numbers made that impossible to believe. There's just not that much coincidence in the world."
"So that's what you meant about proof," Blair said, understanding at last.
"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't tell you then. But I've never shared this work with anyone but Sam, and I couldn't quite trust myself to make that decision when my memory was still clouded and my judgment in question. I promised all the Sentinels I've worked with that I'd keep their secret, that I'd protect them. I just had to be sure."
"No, I understand," Blair said. "So, Alex gave you the same bad feeling she did Jim?"
"*This* feeling," she said. "This horrible unnerving agitation, like I'm just ready to jump out of my skin. I've never been so freaked out in my life. And you have to understand, I'd never turned away another Sentinel. I'd never seen one of our kind as the enemy before. My first instinct was always to help."
"But not her," Jim said.
She shook her head decisively. "This morning after the shooting I remembered something else. A dream I had, after Alex came to my office the first time, before she came back for me. I was in the jungle, and I had a bow and arrow. And there was paint on my face, some kind of pattern. And I was hunting this spotted cat, tracking it, through the underbrush. And we came to this temple in the heart of the jungle, and it had all these elaborate carvings of..."
"Jaguars," Blair finished the sentence for her.
"Yes. Well, at least some kind of big cat, like the one I was hunting. How did you know?
"You all have the same dream."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at that but went on. "When we got to the temple, the spotted cat...the jaguar...turned into the woman from my office, Alicia Bannister, or Alex Barnes it seems. She was desperately trying to get away from me. She tried to go into the temple, but the doors were locked against her. She had nowhere else to run. And I was standing there with the arrow pointed at her heart. And I didn't feel angry. It wasn't remotely personal. I just knew she had to die. And I did it. I pulled back the bow and shot the arrow...and I killed her."
"Wow," Blair said finally.
"You never told me," Sam said very softly.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. "I never wanted you to know. It was such an appalling image. I was so cold about the killing."
"It was a dream, Beth. It was also deeply symbolic. The kind of thing I need to know. So I can help you."
"I realize that now. And I'm sorry."
He looked like he still had plenty to say about it, but let the subject drop for the moment.
"So none of the other Sentinels were like Alex?" Blair asked, needing more confirmation.
"Not even remotely. I meant it when I said that Sentinels are called for a higher purpose. I worked with nine of them, and they all have that built-in programming, to serve the community, to protect, to use their gift for other people's benefit. Alex *is* the aberration, Blair. You weren't wrong about Sentinels. Think of it like a birth defect, missing genetic information. Somehow, she got the gift without the innate sense of responsibility that's supposed to go along with it."
"It never bothered you having other Sentinels around your Guide?" Jim asked, trying to judge his own feelings on some kind of spectrum.
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Sam, who smiled. "Actually, it did. That's something I learned as my work went along. When I first started helping other Sentinels, I tried involving Sam in it. He'd done me so much good. It just made sense. But it made me so uncomfortable, so edgy that we decided it was be better if I went on alone. Before talking with you, Blair, I'd just thought it was some kind of jealousy, since Sam's my husband, or a boundary issue, needing to keep my personal and professional lives separate. But now..."
"You think it's something inherent in the Sentinel-Guide relationship?" Blair guessed.
"It's the only thing that makes sense. I mean, it was always okay after the Sentinels found their Guides. And this is fine now, having Jim here, perfectly comfortable. It's *unbonded* Sentinels that unnerve me. I've been trying to explain it in some scientific way. But now, I think it's too large for that. It goes against my grain as a rational-thinker, but I have to believe..."
"That it's destiny," Sam said.
"One Guide for each Sentinel," Blair added.
"Always and forever," Jim whispered, putting his hand on Blair's shoulder.
"That's why Sam could never help any of the other Sentinels like he did me. He was a Guide, but he wasn't *their* Guide. I had as much success as he did. I could give them a baseline of control, enough at least to keep it manageable. And that was always enough, because their own Guides would just show up, not long afterwards."
"How?" Jim asked.
She shrugged. "I have no idea. Somehow the Sentinels found me, and the Guides always found their Sentinels. They'd just mysteriously show up in San Francisco, for one reason or another. One came from as far away as Malaysia. And somehow they all ended up at my office. One came in to ask for directions to the Embarcadero. It was a very weird thing."
"It's *so* weird it's almost impossible to believe. And that says something coming from me," Blair said.
"You said it, Chief," Jim agreed, teasing his Guide, who then elbowed him lightly in the ribs.
Sam smiled. "I know it's an amazing story, but it's all true. It's like some kind of magnetic attraction. Sentinels and Guides always just seem to find one another. And recognize each other on sight."
"Like we did," Elizabeth said, reaching for Sam's hand.
"And us too," Blair said, smiling at Jim.
"Even though I was kind of hard-headed about it at first," Jim admitted, taking Blair's hand.
"Better late than never, big guy," Blair whispered.
"I'm just glad it wasn't too late," Jim said, brushing Blair's hand lightly with his lips.
Blair blushed beet red. "Um, big guy..."
"It's always a sexual relationship, isn't it?" Jim asked, turning to Elizabeth.
She nodded. "In all the pairs I've known. So I take it this is a new development for you guys?"
They both nodded.
"Congratulations!" Sam said, and Elizabeth smiled, happy for them.
"Thanks," Blair said, blushing again. "Actually, you're the first people to know."
"Then we're honored," Elizabeth said, and then her expression changed. "I should have known about Alex. I should have put the pieces together sooner."
"Don't do that to yourself, Beth." Sam put an arm around her shoulders.
"But she didn't have a Guide. She told me she'd had her senses for a number of months, and it's never been more than a matter of weeks, not in any of the Sentinels I've seen."
"You think Alex went bad because she didn't find her Guide?" Jim asked.
She shrugged. "I don't know which is cause and which is effect. I don't know if she's evil because she's unbonded or unbondable, too malformed to get a Guide. I don't know if something went wrong, and there was no Guide for her or the Guide died or couldn't reach her."
"She *was* in prison when she got the senses," Blair suggested.
"So maybe that was it. But other pairs have found each other from continents away. I don't know. Maybe Alex was just *born* wrong, so the Guide couldn't find her or wouldn't accept her. The one thing that seems clear is that having a Guide is absolutely necessary for a Sentinel. Because when you really think about it, without a Guide to make it into a gift, being a Sentinel is just another form of insanity."
"Elizabeth, I need to know what you remember about the kidnapping," Jim said, as gently as possible.
She nodded. "I'll try."
"Don't push too hard," Sam told her, a hand on her shoulder. "You're still recovering. And I know you're still scared."
She touched his face, tears coming to her eyes. "Thank you, love. But I *need* to remember. We have to catch Alex."
He nodded. "I'm here. Don't forget."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Jim sat down opposite her. "Can you recall anything of the day you were taken?"
She frowned in concentration, closing her eyes. "I was working alone in the office, after hours, catching up on some paperwork. And these two people, all in black, with ski masks, burst in, and I had the same bad feeling I'd gotten from Alicia Bannister. And I just knew it was her. She took out something, and there was this funny sound, like air blowing, and a sharp pain in the side of my neck. And then nothing."
"A dart gun," Jim said.
"Alex has something of a penchant for indigenous South American weaponry," Blair explained.
"Then what do you remember?" Jim probed further.
Elizabeth hugged her knees to her chest, making herself small. "Well..."
Sam pulled her close. "I'll tell this part, if you want."
She nodded, eyes tightly closed, clutching his hand.
"They used drugs, post-hypnotic suggestion, deprivation and other brainwashing techniques to try to get her to use her Sentinel senses for criminal purposes."
"For killing," Beth clarified, her voice choked with horror.
"Jesus! She wanted to create a Sentinel assassin, the perfect killer for hire, to rent out to any terrorist organization with enough money to pay. That's sick, even for Alex Barnes," Jim said with disgust.
"If she can't destroy us outright, then she's going to try to turn us into what she is," Elizabeth said.
"But why come back to Cascade?" Jim wanted to know.
"She's compelled," Elizabeth said.
Understanding animated Blair's face. "It's what you once said, Jim. What are the chances of two Sentinel appearing in Cascade at the same time, both falling in with me. That's the explanation. She was here *because of me*."
Elizabeth nodded. "She needed a Guide. She couldn't find one of her own."
"She wanted to take Blair from me?" Jim asked, his voice half strangled with emotion.
"It was most likely an unconscious urge. But yes. That's probably why she gave you such a strong sense of danger, Jim. A rogue Sentinel in your territory, unbonded, seeking a Guide. It makes sense. That's why I had the same reaction to her. Most likely any Sentinel would have."
"But Blair...she tried to..." Jim couldn't finish the sentence.
"She's like a rabid animal. All she can do is destroy. She doesn't even have a true impulse toward self-preservation. That's why a real Sentinel would never kill a Guide. It's in every instinct, every last thing we are to protect the Guide. Because we can't survive without them. Sentinels are a breed apart. Only Guides can give us a link to the communities we're supposed to protect, to the world, to life itself."
"Oh God!" Blair gasped, his face filling with compassion. "That's why they planted the idea in your head that you'd killed Sam, isn't it? To punish you. For resisting."
She could not hold back the tears. "Yes."
Jim made his voice low and gentle. "I'm so sorry. That must have been hell."
The tears came harder. "Yes."
And Jim suddenly understood something else. "That's when you got really agitated on the roof. When Dr. Smith or whoever that prick was brought up killing your husband. Fucking bastard! He knew what that would do. It was like some kind of fail-safe suggestion, if something went wrong and they got found out. The evidence would destroy itself."
Elizabeth closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Yes."
"Because the only thing more painful to a Sentinel than the Guide's death would be to have killed the Guide. That would be truly unendurable," Blair said.
This time she could not even manage to speak. She had to settle for nodding her head.
"I'm sorry to bring back all these memories, Elizabeth. But I have to ask. Can you remember anything about the place where they held you, anything that would help us find it?"
She wiped away the tears, her shoulders still heaving. "Um...it's hard to remember. I woke up in this cinderblock room, no windows. A cage, basically. It seemed like a pretty big building. Like maybe a warehouse. And wait. I did see out a window once, when they took me to another part of the building. All I could see was countryside. Nothing around. I knew if I managed to escape I'd have to go pretty far to find help."
"What kind of country was it? Forest? Water nearby?"
She thought a long moment. "There was a field, kind of rocky. And I could see the mountains in the distance. And there was a line of trees. Evergreens."
"Okay, that's great, Elizabeth. I know it's hard. But you did great."
"You have to find her, Jim. We have to put an end to this," she said.
"We will."
She leaned forward in her seat, her eyes glittering. "It has to be a *final* resolution."
"Beth!" Sam gasped. "Do you know what you're suggesting?"
"Yes, I do."
"This is a legal matter, Beth. The police will handle this. In a legal fashion," Sam insisted.
"You don't understand, Sam. I didn't understand either, not until just now. All this time, I've been using this ability in such a civilized way, but at its heart, it's not civilized. It has a code all its own, and it's the law of the wild. Animals won't allow a rabid one of their own kind into their territory. And they don't just chase it away either, because they know it has the sickness in it and will feel compelled to come back, at some point, sooner or later. There's only one choice if there's ever going to be anything like safety. It's a hard reality, but that's the way nature is. Ugly at times. Even brutal. All about survival."
"But we're not animals, Elizabeth. For God's sake, you're a *doctor*. You swore a solemn oath to preserve life, and now you're talking like some kind of vigilante. And the police aren't just going to chase Alex out of Cascade. She's going to jail, the way she should. And it's not your place to take justice into your own hands," Sam said, his voice getting louder and angrier with each point.
"But it is my place. This is so far outside the abilities of the criminal justice system to deal with, Sam. This is someone with super-human abilities who uses them to harm people. She's already murdered one person and indirectly caused the deaths of many more. Plus, she tried to kill a Guide. That's a crime against all Sentinels, and it has to be settled among Sentinels. Only we can stop her. Prison isn't safe enough. She could get released. I see it all the time. Dangerous people who manage to con the parole board. Or she could escape. She's certainly clever, *and* she's a Sentinel. It's not beyond her. We can't take that chance. We can't allow a rogue Sentinel to exist. We just can't."
"I know you've been though a lot, and I'm trying to understand. But I can't believe these words are coming out of your mouth. This is not the Elizabeth Knowlton I know."
Elizabeth's hands shook, and there was the chill of fear in her voice. But she couldn't, wouldn't, back down. "I'm sorry, Sam. God, I don't want to lose you over this. But Sentinels are my tribe. Sentinels and their Guides. I *have* to protect the tribe. It's not a choice. This *is* what I am."
He shook his head. "I need some time to deal with this."
"I understand," she said softly.
Sam left the room, and Blair got up. "I'll go talk to him."
Elizabeth nodded, grateful.
"You know I'm right, don't you?" she asked Jim.
He stared past her, out the window, trying to sort out the conflict stirring inside him, the ancient Sentinel instincts at war with the modern man who'd sworn to uphold the law. "Yes," he finally agreed.
"We can't leave anyone behind who knows about us. We can't leave any evidence. Nothing that might give someone else the same sick idea about how they can exploit Sentinels for some greedy purpose. It's the only way we'll be safe. All of us. You and Blair. Me and Sam. And all the rest of us."
"I understand. We'll do whatever we have to. To protect our tribe."
"I just hope my Guide can forgive me."
"Me too."
Blair found Sam in the kitchen, pacing around the table, agitated, muttering to himself.
"Sam? Are you okay?"
Sam stopped and turned to face him. "No. I'm not. I don't understand any of this. And I hate it."
Blair put a hand on his shoulder. "I know, man. It's heavy stuff. Why don't you sit down and we'll talk? I'll put on some tea."
Sam nodded, sinking onto a nearby chair, suddenly very tired. He put his head in his hands. "You don't know her, so you have know way of gauging how unlike her this really is. We're talking about a woman who won't let me kill a bug. Oh, she's terrified of them, don't make a mistake. But we have to carefully shoo them out a window or carry them outside, set them free. Because she hates killing. And now she's sitting in there calmly making plans to murder another human being in cold blood. What happened to my Beth, Blair? What did those bastards do to the woman I know? The woman I love. The woman I married."
"All I can say is that I know from personal experience how going through an ordeal like this can change you. It takes a while to get back to your old life and your old self. And it's been less than three weeks for her. She's still your Beth. She just needs some time to remember what that means."
Tears came to Sam's eyes. "I know. I try to remember that. And she's been very strong, very brave in dealing with all this. Like she always is. That's one of the things I've always loved about her. That's always made me so proud of her. She's the strongest, bravest person I know. Blair, I know this whole, horrible thing is bound to have affected her. My God, what they did to her. *I* want to kill them for that. But this really is a whole side of her I've never seen before, and it scares me."
"That's how I felt when Jim was freaking out the first time Alex came to town, only we didn't know what was causing it then. Unfortunately, we really let that get between us. And it was almost the end of us. I'd really hate to see that happen to you and Elizabeth."
"My God, so would I, Blair. I love her. I'm committed to her. She's my wife, for God's sake. She's my Sentinel. Until this happened, I don't think I really understood exactly how important that is. I'm just not sure how to deal with it if this is what being a Sentinel means."
"I'm not saying it's not tough, man. Really, really tough. It can definitely get ugly. Instinct is a powerful thing, and Elizabeth's right. It's not civilized. But you have to think about all the buttons they pushed in her. They've threatened what she considers to be her tribe. And worse than that, they threatened her Guide. All those sick, twisted images they put in her head of your being hurt...well, that's enough to send any Sentinel off the deep end. As far as Sentinels are concerned, you just don't fuck with the Guide. It's a biological imperative at the most deep and primitive level. So it's no wonder Elizabeth feels compelled to make Alex pay."
"Beth has always listened to me before. She relies on my judgment. She might complain, but she always does what I think is right. Why not now?"
Blair shook his head. "I don't know, man. There just may be times when a Sentinel's biological programming overrides the bond with the Guide. And maybe..."
"What?" Sam asked, leaning forward.
"You might not want to hear this."
"Say it."
"Maybe it's for a reason. Think about what Guides do for Sentinels. We provide a sort of moral compass, keep them on the straight and narrow, help them figure out how best to use their skills to accomplish the greatest good. Maybe there are some situations that are so extreme, so primal they fall outside the moral arena, and Sentinels stop listening to their Guides at those times. Because the guidance we'd give them would be all wrong."
"Jesus, Blair, are you saying you think Beth's right?"
"No. I feel the same way you do. And I know Jim agrees with Elizabeth. He just doesn't want to say so in front of me. And I'll have to sort out how I feel about that and how I'm going to deal with it. But I am willing to explore the possibility that in this case my sense of ethics may be out of touch with the realities of the situation."
"I don't know. It just sounds too much like trying to rationalize something that's so obviously wrong."
"I know, Sam. But maybe we just have to take a leap of faith here. We're always asking our Sentinels to trust us. Maybe this time we just have to trust them."
"I hope to God I can do that, Blair."
"Me too, Sam. Me too."
From the moment Blair found out that Alex Barnes was back, he knew it would have repercussions. He just never expected her to be such a strong presence in their bed while he and Jim made love. //She wanted to take Blair from me.// Jim's words from earlier in the day chilled him. He was always urging Jim to listen to his instincts. He needed to start taking his own advice.
He had never wanted to touch her. Even when guiding her called for it, he didn't really want to, did it only grudgingly, a quick touch to her arm or the back of the head, to focus her. And that day in his office when she kissed him, he'd had the impulse to rub his face, to get it off. He should have known. With Jim, he'd never hesitated to touch. In fact, he'd felt compelled to put his hands on his partner, had been secretly glad for the excuse. It made such sense now. It was supposed to be a sexual connection. And Alex repelled him. And he should have known.
He pushed away the disturbing thoughts, determined not to let them interfere with their loving. He turned his attention back to Jim and concentrated on what his lover was doing to him. Jim was everywhere at once--his hands running down Blair's arms, across his chest, lingering on his nipples, fluttering across his belly, raking the insides of his thighs, urging them apart. Jim's lips skimmed across Blair's shoulders, whispered against his ear, kissed the inside of his wrist, making Blair weak with want. Jim's tongue ran across Blair's lips, dipping and plunging inside, no gentle kiss, then licked a broad swath down his chest, across his stomach, doing things to his cock he'd never imagined Jim Ellison would begin to know how to do, things that felt so good. Jim loved him with his whole body, moving chest against chest, hip against hip, thigh against thigh. And then there were the teeth, the slight edge of them teasing a nipple, grazing Blair's lower lip, leaving a trail of bite marks down the curve of his neck, a bill board, a warning for anyone foolish enough to get too close. //My Guide. My Guide. My Guide.//
This was not the same sweet loving from the night before. This had the shadow of an evil, Guide-stealing Sentinel hanging over it. Jim held Blair's hips with grim determination, as he moved his body against Blair's. Every glance, every touch had that same edge to it, the frantic urge to claim, mark, possess. There was something stark and primal in Jim's expression, the ancient Sentinel getting the better of the modern man. Blair could almost see the same conversation he'd been reliving now playing over his lover's face, along with the residual fear from three months ago. //She wanted to take you away from me.// And this was Jim's answer, his attempt to bind Blair to him in a way that could never be broken.
"I want you," Jim said, his voice so rough with passion he almost didn't sound like the man Blair knew.
Blair could only nod. The dark desire in his lover's eyes left him breathless.
Getting permission unleashed something in Jim, the overpowering urge to take his Guide, take him hard, take him now. It gave Blair a whole new admiration for Sentinel protectiveness, understanding that it was only the powerful imperative to never hurt the Guide that kept Jim from slamming himself into Blair's unprepared body.
Blair found himself smiling at that, an expression of wicked delight. The dark desire was catching, and he felt it stir inside him now, too. Jim Ellison--that stoic paragon of control--was at the far reaches of restraint and quickly passing beyond its borders. And Blair was the intoxicant propelling him into the undiscovered country outside the limits of reason. That pleased Blair in a greedy, lascivious place so deep inside himself that he could not help spreading his legs wider, to give his lover a better look, adjusting the angle of his hips, to give his Sentinel better access, goading Jim just a little, playing a dangerous, thrilling game.
The look on Jim's face told him he understood exactly what Blair was doing, and he'd soon teach him a thing or two about teasing a Sentinel bent on mating, a Sentinel staking his claim, in the process of winning his territory.
Blair gained a whole new appreciation for Sentinel willpower as Jim somehow found the strength to pull himself away, to get the tube of lube he'd bought at the drug store that afternoon just in case, tearing his eyes away from the sweet spot between Blair's legs, the place he wanted to fuck so badly. Blair gave Jim enormous credit for being able to stop long enough to get what he needed to avoid hurting him.
Jim eased one slicked finger into Blair's body. And froze. //He didn't expect me to be a virgin.// Blair felt like laughing. It was suddenly all so clear to him, why he'd always kept this part of himself back. Even when he'd set out with the specific intention of getting fucked, somehow he'd always ended up directing the sex into other avenues, something, anything else. He'd never even let a woman touch him there. It's not that he'd gone around with the idea of his ass as some kind of prize or attached romantic notions to it, like he was waiting for Mr. Right. There had just been this lurking, wordless insistence that this would be significant sometime, that he would know the right moment when it came. And here it was. And he'd been right, so right, so glad to have waited.
Blair knew Jim too well not to understand the battle he was fighting with himself, not to be able to read the conflicting emotions written all over his face. There was the practical, careful, reasonable Jim who knew it would be a far better idea to take his lover for the first time when he was sane enough to do it gently, outside the terrible heat of this moment. There was the Blessed Protector that insisted Blair must be kept safe, even from Jim himself. But there was also the panther, not a rational, thinking man, but an animal spirit, who knew only what it wanted, what it needed. And it would not be denied.
And as much as Jim didn't want to hurt him, might not want to admit it even to himself, he was exulting in the knowledge that he would be the first, the last, the only. This sweet secret was his and his alone. And soon he would learn it, take it, reveal its mysteries, make it his own. That was an incredible aphrodisiac, and it had to be acted on. Now.
Jim shook his head. "Have to. Have to do it. Have to take you. Make you mine."
"Yes." That was the only answer Blair could possibly have given. The dark desire had a hold of him. It glinted and preened and grinned, in triumph and greed. Like the panther, it knew only what it wanted. It also would not be denied.
Blair acquired an instant appreciation for something he never even knew existed: Sentinel patience. Jim took his time, teasing him, stroking him, opening him, lavishing careful attention on the entrance to his body, using his senses to judge, making Blair ready for him, making it good for Blair in the process. Blair felt a new respect for all the women he'd ever bedded. It was not an easy thing to allow yourself to be so open, so exposed, so vulnerable to another person. As Jim's fingers moved inside him, caressing him, stretching him, easing the way where his cock would soon follow, Blair understood at last what all the women and the few men he'd ever fucked had given him, how they'd allowed him *inside* them, *inside*, how they'd shared something that was so absolutely theirs with him. And he understood more than ever why this was the moment when he could finally do this, why he'd never been able to do it before. It was only with Jim that he could stand to be this vulnerable.
Jim knelt between Blair's outstretched thighs, taking his own cock in his hand. "I have to do this. I have to have you. Tell me it's all right."
Blair licked his lips, afraid, but also more turned on than he'd ever imagined possible. It was now or never. He nodded. "Do it. I want you to."
He tried to let go of the fear, stay loose, breathe out, bear down as Jim entered him, whatever he could think of to make the penetration easier. He hoped it wouldn't hurt. It did. And more than that, it just felt weird, unnatural, intrusive, something inside his body that wasn't part of him. //Who ever thought *that* up?// He closed his eyes tightly as he tried to adjust to the hot, urgent, spread-too-wide sensation shooting up his ass. Jim stilled, watching him with concern, stroking his hips, thighs, his flagging erection, murmuring sweet, broken phrases of affection, words of love and tenderness and comfort. For a moment, the panther was in retreat, and his considerate lover was in control, soothing him, ready to stop if it hurt too much. And the sensation began to shift, as he'd always heard it would. His body gave in to it, stopped feeling invaded, felt filled instead, complete in some strange way. It was still a thoroughly odd sensation, but now it bordered on pleasure. He pushed back against Jim, and that felt okay too. He nodded, and Jim began moving inside him again. And then it wasn't just okay. It was much, much better than that. It was still a hot, burning sensation, but the way pleasure can be hot and burning. And he began to move once more, meeting Jim, loving him back.
He could almost hear what Jim was thinking. //Nobody takes my Guide. Mine. Mine. My Guide.//
As he stroked Blair's cock in time to his thrusting, the magic words, the eternal rhythm unfolded. //Mine. Now and always. Mine. Now and always. Mine. Now and always.// Blair began to buck his hips more urgently, laying a claim of his own. //My Sentinel. Mine. Only mine.//
And Jim's hands ran over Blair's hips and thighs with his answer. //Yours. Only yours. So good to be yours.//
And Blair understood at last what this was, the profundity of it all. This was the raw sensual power that made the world go around. This was the possessed urge to fuck like there was no tomorrow. This was mating, at its most pure, its most primitive. This was too damn good, and he was coming, God, he was coming. And Jim was coming too. And they were both screaming and howling and shrieking and wailing, along with various other sounds loud enough to wake the dead. And there was a message in that raw, primal noise. //Ours. Together. Ours. Always and forever.// And even though it was desperate and cacophonous and way off key, it was still the music of the ages.
After it was over and they'd disentangled their bodies, Jim lay with his head pressed against Blair's heart, listening to the beating gradually return to its normal rhythm.
"Sorry. Had to. Had to do it. Sorry. So sorry," Jim repeated over and again.
"Shhh. Shhh. Shhh," Blair soothed.
"I'm sorry," Jim offered one last time.
"I'm not," Blair said with finality.
Jim lifted his head. "Just tell me I didn't hurt you too badly."
Blair smiled and traced Jim's forehead, cheekbones, the bridge of his nose with his finger. "You didn't hurt me too badly."
"Shit, Blair!" Jim said in a panic, pulling back, checking his lover for blood or other visible signs of damage.
Blair burst out laughing. He wasn't sure why it seemed so hilarious. Maybe it was just the contrast between the demon that had fucked his brains out just a moment ago and his tender partner wracked by guilt over the possibility of having hurt him.
"Damn it, Blair!" Jim said, his face pale and worried, very much unamused.
"Relax, big guy. I'm just teasing you."
"Don't, Blair. Not about this," he said and then his voice grew softer. "I don't know why I did it like that. Especially your first time. *Our* first time *together*."
"Because you needed it. We needed it. Hell, *I* needed it."
Jim searched his face. "You'd tell me if I'd really hurt you, wouldn't you?"
Blair sighed. "Yes. And you didn't." He moved his ass gingerly. "It's just a little sore. I'll live. Although I might walk funny tomorrow."
Jim couldn't help smiling at that, despite himself. In some slightly twisted, deeply possessive part of his soul, it pleased him.
Blair glared at him dramatically. "God, Jim. Gloat a little, why don't you?"
Jim's smile just got larger.
Blair elbowed him, then went for the big guns: tickling. Now it was his turn to gloat, as Jim writhed beneath him, whimpering, pleading, laughing, trying to get away. Blair smiled. He could always count on Sentinel sensitivity.
Blair straddled his partner's hips, staring down at him. "Payback's a bitch, man."
Jim's eyes grew wide.
"Oh yes, my friend," Blair said.
Jim wiggled his hips suggestively against his lover, communicating his willingness.
"Geez, man. Give me a break. I want you, but sometime when my ass isn't too sore to move. Patience, baby. I want to give you my best, just the way you did me."
"I might not live."
Blair grinned. "You're going to have to toughen up, Sentinel."
"Bring it on, Shaman."
"Oh, I plan to, Jim. I definitely plan to."
Jim rested his hands on Blair's waist, caressing his hips, growing suddenly serious. "Do you know how much I love you?"
Blair leaned down to kiss him. "Yes. Just as much as I love you."
Jim didn't know why he had such a thing about slamming people into walls. Sometimes he got high on frustration and low on tolerance. Sometimes he just needed to *do* something about a situation, and banging a bad guy into a nearby wall...well, that was something. But then there were those occasions when a person was just such crud-sucking scum that they really and truly deserved it, when it was really the only appropriate response.
Such was the case with Officer Ramsey. Jim took him by the front of the shirt and propelled him back against the wall. He hit it with a loud "oof," getting the wind knocked out of him.
//That was for Blair, for selling out to the bitch who almost killed him. And you're damned lucky he'd already left that morning, or we wouldn't be having this civilized conversation.//
"Let's try this again, Ramsey. Where is Alex Barnes hiding? And who is the mysterious doctor from the roof?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Detective." Ramsey was trying to sound matter-of-fact, putting on his best innocent face. But Jim could hear his fluttering pulse, giving away every one of his lies.
He grabbed Ramsey's collar and pounded him against the opposite wall. //That was for nearly getting Sam killed, someone who it was your sworn duty to defend and protect, you fucking sell-out bastard.//
Jim got in his face, mere inches away, looking Ramsey dangerously in the eye. Ramsey was trying not to seem intimidated, but everyone around the station knew Ellison's reputation. And Captain Banks seemed to have given him carte blanche do whatever he wanted. And shit! Ramsey hated to think what that meant.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. We found a ten thousand dollar deposit to your checking account two days after the doctor gave us the slip on the roof. And you were on the security detail for Dr. Knowlton and Mr. Crawford, so of course you knew the location of the safe house. Plus, you just happened to be on duty at the time of the attack, handily out back where it was safe. And somehow you managed not to hear a thing as the whole place was torn apart by gunfire. At least, not until it was over, and you took out the perp before he could roll over on you," Jim said, every word slow and level and carefully articulated, the very soul of menace.
Ramsey's blood ran cold. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "You got it all wrong, Detective. I swear. God, you think I'd do something like that? No way, Detective. God as my witness."
Jim pulled him forward and pushed him back against the wall, forcefully, banging his head this time. //That was for Elizabeth, for ratting her out to the people who'd already put her through hell. And for making her walk past a dead body yesterday when it could so easily have been her or her husband lying there.//
"Ramsey, I'm not a patient man. Pretty much everyone around here knows that. And I can't tell you how fed up I am with you right now. And even though I'm not particularly religious, I have to tell you that I really don't like it when liars call on God. So if I were you, I'd start talking. And I'd make it the truth this time."
Jim tightened his grip on Ramsey's collar, not enough to cut off the flow of air completely, maybe just turn him blue a little. He could hear Ramsey's vital signs go off the chart, the strong smell of fear coming off him in waves. //And that one's for me. Just because I *hate* dirty cops.//
"Okay, okay, Detective. I did it. Okay? Let go now. I can't breathe," Ramsey gasped, trying to pull away.
Jim let him go with a final shove. "Where are they?"
Ramsey shook his head. "I don't know. I swear. It was all done over the phone. We did a drop with the money at Memorial Park. I never saw where they were hiding out."
"Who'd you deal with?"
"The doctor. From the roof. He never gave me any name other than Dr. Smith."
"You were in on it from the beginning?"
The cop shook his head. "I really did just get distracted up on the roof. But the next day I got a call from him. I'm into some dangerous people for a bunch of money. Gambling debts. The Jags had a really shitty season. And the doctor knew all about it and said he had a way out of it for me. All I had to do was give up the information and then look the other way."
"While two civilians and God knows how many of your fellow officers were gunned down," Jim said with disgust.
"Yeah, well. I didn't owe them people nothing, the doctor and her husband. And no cops were supposed to get hurt. That's what the guy promised. Besides, the people I'm into would have killed me without a second thought, just to send a message to other guys that can't pay. I had to look out for myself."
Jim fought the urge to pound him into the wall again. "And got a good cop killed in the process. Was shooting the wounded perp part of the deal?"
Ramsey nodded. "The doctor said for nothing to be left at the scene that could be traced back. I knew what that meant."
"Ramsey, you are the sort of no account cop that truly disgraces the uniform."
"Yeah, well, fuck you, Detective."
It took a supreme act of will to leave him standing, but Jim managed it, calling in the officers waiting outside to book him.
Simon came out of the observation room. "Well, we got Ramsey, but not the location of the warehouse. Was he telling the truth, Jim?"
Jim rubbed his eyes, the tension of the past few days beginning to catch up to him. "Afraid so, Simon. He doesn't know where it is." Jim pounded his fist on his desk. "Damn it! That was our best lead."
"Take it easy, Jim. We'll find her."
"We damn well better, Simon. We damn well better. And very, very soon."
Part V
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