They don't belong to us. We wish they did. No money was made and no copyright infringement was intended.

First and foremost, we'd like to thank debraC for looking this puppy over for us.
Dolimir, I knew it would be fabulous to work with you - damn, I *love* it when I'm right! My heartfelt thanks for a lovely experience ~ V.
Veronica - You made writing this story a blast. I looked forward to my email with both anticipation and dread. You stretched me as an author and kept me on my toes. Thank you for suggesting this collaboration!

Have you ever noticed how two people can look at the same event and interpret it differently? Or how a pause doesn't necessarily mean what you thought it did?

Slam

Oh, great, Jim - that's just great. How goddamn typical.

I sit on the edge of the bed and bury my face in my hands, bewildered and shell-shocked by this horrible turn of events. It's like, one minute we're talking lures and flies and what time we want to meet up with Simon and Daryl at the lodge for dinner and the next, we're at each others' throat.

I scrub a shaking hand through my hair and sit up, forcing a breath into my tight chest. Okay, Sandburg, be honest - you knew this was going to happen some day. Some things can only be ignored so long before they come back to bite you on the butt, but I'd really been hoping for more time - say, a couple of decades - before this particular storm broke.

I stand up and look around the room, the comfortable mess a silent witness to all I have to lose. His stuff, my stuff - it's all scattered around the spacious room, evidence of our enthusiasm to explore the grounds. Even anal retentive Ellison didn't wait to finish unpacking his skivvies before we took off for a quick hike; for my part and not to be shared with the populace, I really had wanted some Jim-time after that three hour drive with the bickering Banks family. Not that it bugged me all that much, having become used to it over the years, but fresh air and a brisk walk made facing dinner with them a little more bearable.

And frankly, I've been worried about my Sentinel. Now, God forbid I should ever call him that out loud. That's still a tender spot between us and I'm constantly having to be on guard against saying anything even remotely proprietary about his abilities. But in my head - in my heart - he's still my Sentinel. Up until ten minutes ago, I thought he always would be.

Maybe this confrontation was the culmination of all the strain he's been under since the Chase bust. If so, then I'd blown it big time, because this trip was planned strictly for relaxation, for restoration and re-connection - Jim to me, Jim to enjoyment, Jim to, well, Jim. He'd been distant and unapproachable to everyone except me for the past couple of weeks, and I made sure I didn't step on his size ten loafers, either. The fact that he'd been agreeable to this whole trip was such a good sign, I didn't even think twice about it.

Well, the road to hell, yadda yadda yadda.

I pick up my jacket, hang it on the restoration antique hook and take a quick glance out the sliding glass window that opens on to the deck. Jim had gone out the front door in the opposite direction, so I'm surprised to see him down by the lake, his head bowed and walking like he was pulling a load of concrete blocks behind him.

I don't know why I said what I did. I don't know why I thought he'd let it go. And I sure as hell didn't expect him to rip my heart out because of it - and then leave me bleeding all over the knotty pine floor.

"Jesus, Jim," I mutter despondently, my breath frosting the glass and softening the edges of that determined, miserable figure by the lake, "I swear, I didn't know. And I can't make it better until - unless - you come back. You come back, you bastard. You owe me."

I wince slightly as the solid cedar door slams shut behind me, but I don't stop my forward movement. I desperately need some time to myself, time to think and regroup.

Goddamn, neo-hippie witch-doctor punk.

I start to move toward the forest, then change my mind and head for the lake. If I go inland, there's a good chance I'll run across Simon and Daryl, and I'm definitely not in the mood for company or explanations. For a moment, I lose myself in the quiet crunching sounds of the stones beneath my boots. I actually step in the lake before I realize I've reached it.

Water.

"It always comes back to goddamn water," I grit out as I take a step back onto the gently sloped beach.

Hasn't the idiot learned anything? Does he have to die again before the lesson finally takes hold?

And how, in God's name, did Sandburg expect me to react?

Am I supposed to be happy?

So Sandburg's been up front with me this time? So goddamn what?

What am I supposed to do with this tidbit of information? Stand by and watch it all happen again?

I lower my chin to my chest. I can't go through it again. I just can't. Late at night, when all sane people are in bed, I can still taste the algae which clung to his lips, can still feel his clammy skin under my fingertips, can still hear the deafening silence of the precious heart which no longer beat. The silence is what frightens me the most.

I roll my head back onto my shoulders. What's Sandburg hoping to accomplish anyway? Aren't I enough? Does he really need to find another sentinel?

My fists ball up in frustration and I have an overwhelming urge to scream my pain to the heavens.

Sandburg obviously doesn't understand. There can be no one else besides me. I won't allow it. I can't allow it. I can't lose the inconsiderate little shit again. Fuck his dissertation.

Aren't I enough?

An anger seethes up within me. Why am I not enough for him? Sandburg belongs to me now. The merging proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. So why is he looking? Hell, how in the world had he found another sentinel? Hadn't Alex taught him anything?

Obviously not. So, I guess I'll have to explain it to him...in little words.

"You sure?"

I sigh and pound the back of my head lightly against the headboard.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Jim's still trying to unwind, so when he gets back we'll just order something in. Let's plan on breakfast at, what, eight?"

"Okay," Simon mutters, sounding understandably doubtful. "See you then."

Crap. This is turning into a disaster. Jim's pissed off at me and now Simon knows something's up, something definitely not good. That means he'll worry all night and then Daryl will know and all I want to do is just go home and start over - and keep my big mouth shut this time.

Rising off the bed to continue my manic unpacking, my ears strain to hear the sound of footsteps. If he'd just come back, I could explain, I know I could.

I grab his eight pairs of white socks out of his bag and lay them neatly in the dresser drawer. Gee, Jim, I could hear myself saying, it's not like I'm actively meeting with this person - I don't even know if it's a man or a woman! I've been real careful, okay? I haven't given them my phone number or anything, although, yeah, they could probably get it through the U but come on, how likely is that?

Yeah, that's what I'd say - if Jim were here.

But he isn't, so I move on to hanging up the acres of flannel we'd brought. I knew that I could justify so much, but I also knew that there were some things I could never tell him - like how much regaining his trust meant to me, how much I feared the day he told me he couldn't handle being a research subject anymore - how much I hated the thought of another...another Alex.

I gather up our shaving kits and get them squared away in the bathroom, my mind moving from my litany of excuses to the truth of my very tenuous situation. The fact that Jim went ballistic on me when I mentioned this little correspondence thing I had going was a clue that I'd overestimated our relationship one more time. Where I thought he'd understand that my reaching out to another possible sentinel was just my way of trying to take the pressure off him, he'd apparently interpreted it as some kind of threat to his privacy.

Great job, Sandburg. I mean, with my track record, who could blame him?

It's twilight by the time I've run out of stuff to unpack. These cabins came with a lot of cool amenities but a TV wasn't one of them. There wasn't anything I wanted to watch, anyway. I have a stack of books but they stay where they are, by my bed. There's a CD player, so I dig around in my backpack and fish out something suitably dark and angsty, but in the end I never turn it on. God knows I don't need any mood music.

I'm just about to head out in search of Jim, to pin him to a nearby tree and force him to listen to me, when I hear his heavy tread on the steps that lead to the front door. Swallowing hard, I place myself in the middle of the room and cross my arms protectively over my chest.

The door opens and in he walks, looking pale, pinched and cold in the warm glow of the lamps. He gives me a sideways glance as he strides past me to pull off his jacket and hang it up next to mine, just like - just like home.

When he doesn't turn around, I realize he's waiting for me to speak. I clear my throat and smile at his rigid back.

"Okay, so maybe I didn't explain this very well. You see - "

He whirls around and oh, Jesus God - he's not mad anymore. Oh, no - he's fucking furious.

I'm screwed.

Walking back to our cabin, I realize that anger isn't going to get me anywhere. I need to explain my position calmly and rationally. I'll tell him - in little words, so there's no misunderstanding - why the path he's so determined to take is such a foolish risk.

I try to calm my breathing as I step onto the porch.

I can do this.

I open the door, only to find him waiting smack in the center of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, spoiling for a fight.

Great, just great. This is going to be a long night. I can tell he isn't going to be rational about this. I move past him, take off my coat and hang it next to his. Keep it together, Ellison.

"Okay, so maybe I didn't explain this very well. You see - "

Jesus, Mary and Joseph! He still doesn't see what's wrong with what he's doing.

I turn to face him and notice the color has drained from his face.

Good.

Maybe he's starting to get an inkling of the trouble he's going to be facing.

"I think you explained yourself just fine the first time, Sandburg." I can feel the anger boiling up within me - again. I close the distance between us. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

He opens his mouth to give me what he probably thinks will be a rational explanation, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand. He tries to speak again and something inside of me snaps and I find myself shoving him.

"Just how many more goddamn fountains am I going to have to pull you out of anyway?"

He gasps like I'd slugged him. I shove him again, which causes him to take several more steps backward.

"You've already had your death walk, shaman. What are you going for, some kind of all-time record?"

Before he can regain his balance, I push him again. His back slams into the wooden wall. "Well, I won't allow it."

His head pops up and something in his eyes changes and I realize that convincing him isn't going to be as easy as I originally thought.

Oh. My. God.

I don't know what's freaking me out more - the venom spitting out of Jim's mouth or the shoving match he's trying to pick. I can hardly keep up with the awful things he's saying, but I sure as hell know the feel of being pushed up against the wall, courtesy of this so-called friend of mine.

"Hey!" I block his hand as he goes to push at my shoulder again, even though I've gone as far as I can. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

"Me? Jesus Christ, Sandburg, I'm not the one courting looney tunes over the Internet!" A long finger is suddenly poked in my face. "Didn't you learn anything from - from last time?"

I slap the finger away. "Jim, that is so not fair! Listen to yourself! You act like everybody's a stalker and I've got 'victim' tattooed on my forehead!"

He leans in close, and his whisper sends a chill down my spine. "You're not listening to me. I said I won't stand for it - and I won't."

Any vestige of fear I'd had is washed away on a tide of pure anger.

"Just who the hell do you think you fucking are?" I yell as I slide out from the wall and escape to the middle of the room. "I'm a scientist, Jim, although I know you like to forget that little factoid. I know you'd prefer to think of me as your funky little ride-along partner but guess what - you don't own me and you sure as hell can't tell me what to do!"

"Oh, yeah?" he snarls, slowly beginning to stalk me. "You think I'm gonna just sit back and watch you lose your so-called scientific objectivity again? You have such a great track record with that, don't you?"

His words hurt, but I won't let him see it. "About as good as your track record with trust, man, so don't go getting all self-righteous on me."

Jim stops right in front of me, his body practically throbbing with antagonism. "Do I need to put it into words with one syllable, Sandburg? I don't give a fuck what you think about me right now."

I swallow hard, because with my next words, I know I'm setting myself up for the biggest fall of my life. "Thanks for the news flash, Jim. You wanna tell me just what you do give a fuck about? Or is that strictly on a need to know basis?"

Jim freezes, his face going blank. I hold my breath and force myself to look into those icy blue eyes.

"You really wanna know?" he says tightly and I nod, steeling myself. "Fine. Listen up."

"The only thing I give a fuck about is you!"

Dark blue eyes blink at me as if they didn't quite hear me right.

"Do you have any idea what it did to me to pull your body out of that fountain? To listen for your heartbeat and find only silence?"

A part of mind is screaming for me to shut up...to be silent before I reveal too much...before he understands.... But I can't. I can't. I have to make him realize the danger he's walking into.

"Do you know what it was like to be pulled away from your body? To be physically restrained from holding you?"

He reaches for me, but I knock his hand out of the way. I grab him by the shirt and hold him up so that he has to stand on his toes. "Well, never again. I won't go through that again, Sandburg. Do you fucking understand me?"

I don't - I can't - God, what the hell is happening here?

"You bastard," I whisper, clutching at his biceps for balance. He has me up hard against his chest, my shirt front clutched in his hands and his face inches from mine. "You goddamn bastard. You want me to say I'm sorry for dying? All right, I'm sorry - or maybe I should be sorry I just didn't stay dead so I could've saved you all this trouble!"

Jim's face turns white and the strength in his hands is abruptly gone. I grab his wrists and fling them off me, but he recovers quickly and snags the breast pocket of my shirt. The sound of the tearing fabric as I yank away is loud, heard even over our harsh breathing, and my eyes fly to Jim's face.

His eyes are wide and wild, the skin across his jaw pulled taut. I'm trapped inside his angry gaze as he reaches for me again, not exactly scared because in all our time together, I've never worried that he'd hurt me physically. Even when Incacha died and Jim lost it, I'd held my own until Jim could get his act together.

But today I can tell that I've stepped over some kind of Jim Ellison line but for the life of me, I'm not sorry. He can throw me out of his life, in fact he can throw me out of this cabin, but no way am I backing down now.

His rage is a palpable thing as he walks us, slowly this time, back up against the wall. His actions are controlled, his eyes shuttered against me.

We stand there, both of us panting and stiff, when he abruptly lets go with one hand, only to slam it into the wall next to my head. I jump and meet his eyes, shocked when I see moisture gathering on his lower lashes.

"Don't you ever, ever, say that again, you hear me?" His voice is hoarse, nearly unrecognizable. "Didn't you listen? What do you want from me, Blair? Huh? You want me to bleed for you? Is that it?"

He slams his fist again and I wince, knowing it has to hurt, but he doesn't so much as blink. Then he says something that drops the bottom out of my world.

"Jesus, Blair - why aren't I enough for you?"

Then his mouth is on mine.

In all my dreams, hell, even in all my nightmares, I never imagined how soft his lips would actually be. Oh, I've heard women, and even some men, speculate about how fuckable his mouth is, but I never realized how warm and full of life it is.

At first, he just stands there, as if in shock, then he tries to reach for me, but I pin his hand to the wall beside his head and hold it firmly in place. I can feel his heartbeat slamming against my chest, can feel his startled breath against my upper lip.

I start to pull back but he parts his lips in what appears to be a silent invitation. I dip my tongue into his mouth and am almost overwhelmed. I can taste the coffee we had while on the road, the lime Jolly Rancher which I saw Daryl slip him in the car, but there is so much more, so much which just screams Blair. I've tasted it on beer bottles I've snagged from him during a game, on mugs when I'm too lazy to fix my own; but nothing, nothing, has prepared me for the full unadulterated taste of my roommate.

A noise startles me and I realize it's me - moaning.

Again, I start to pull back, but his tongue dips shyly into my mouth, hesitantly exploring. I almost stop breathing, but his free hand presses gently against my chest. His touch galvanizes me into action and I pin it next to his head. I open wider and press inward, feeling electric tingles dance around my mouth as his tongue explores deeper into mine.

His body is taut against the wall and I realize this isn't some fragile flower. He is more than holding his own against me. His body surges against mine and I feel the heat pour off him in waves. My body reacts on its own volition as I press him back into the wall, only to have him arch against me again. He moans and I feel his hardness dig into my thigh.

Oh my God, what am I doing?

I pull back abruptly and while a part of me is smug about the dazed look on his face, the larger part is horrified by what I've revealed. Sandburg is a smart kid, he's going to be able to put it together.

I release both of his hands, which then fall limply to his sides.

I swallow hard as I take a step back. I've got to get out of here. I've got to...

His hand snaps hard around my wrist and he brings it up between us. Something in his eyes has changed and suddenly I feel like I am the one drowning. I realize now there will be no mercy in regards to my revelation.

The bones beneath my fingers feel strangely fragile, but I have no desire to show this man any mercy.

"What's the matter, Ellison?" I pant. There's still desire in his eyes but it's quickly being overcome by pure fear - a fear I share but won't give in to. "You actually having a feeling here?"

He tries to jerk his hand away but I hold fast - then I surprise both of us by using my other hand to grab his chin, forcing his eyes to mine.

"Don't - " I swallow and force the words out through gritted teeth " - don't let this go. Don't tell yourself this isn't real and don't think I'm gonna let you just walk away from me!"

"Sandburg - "

"No, damn it," I hiss, "I'm not 'Sandburg' now, all right? I'm not - "

I falter, because in this moment I have no idea who I am to Jim. What had started out as a useless argument has evolved into a fight for survival, but if Jim can't meet me half way, then what's the use of trying? My fingers loosen and he gently pulls out of my grasp, but he doesn't move away like I expect him to. He lowers his head like a wounded animal, and just when I think he's going to turn away and abandon me, he reaches up and touches the torn pocket of my shirt.

"Sorry," he whispers, and I flinch as his fingers brush across my chest.

"I don't give a fuck about the shirt, you moron," I say on a hoarse laugh that sounds more like a sob, "I only give a fuck about you."

He still isn't looking at me, but I see a reluctant smile cross his lips and then disappear. "Sounds familiar," he murmurs. His hand is still between us, and in a move that speaks of my desperation, I press it against my heart.

This time when he looks at me, the passion is back - passion, and something else, something that maybe scares me more than anything.

"Sand...Blair," I whisper, knowing he needs to hear the words, my words, but I am unable to say anything more; the fire burning deep within me consuming all rational thought.

I clench my hand in his tattered shirt and draw him closer. He steps forward without resistance and I lower my head and cover his lips with mine once again. I bring my other hand up into his hair and gently pull his head back so I can explore his neck, but he maneuvers out of my grasp. Not away from me. Not backing away. But not submitting to me either.

For a minute we seem to be jockeying for position. Neither one of us willing to submit to the other, but neither one of us willing to break the kiss either. In a strange sort of way, it seems almost like a dance with each of us pushing and pulling against each other.

Finally, we break apart; both of us panting, trying to catch our breath.

And it dawns on me.

He wants this.

He wants this as much as I do.

But he's not going to submit.

He's not going to let me hide from myself any longer.

He's demanding complete and total honesty - not only with him, but with myself as well.

I swallow hard. The voice of my father is screaming in my head, reminding me of who I should be, letting me know that I can never live up to his expectations, telling me how disappointed he is in me. And yet, I look into the face of the man in front of me and the voice dies down, replaced by love and trust.

God, how could I be so blind?

It's been there in front of me all along. All I had to do was trust in him. I am humbled by his faith in me. I don't deserve it. I never have, and yet it's where it's always been - in his eyes and his heart.

I drop to my knees in front of him and lean forward, pressing the side of my face against the hard muscles of his stomach, breathing in his arousal and his fear. All I can think about is that I don't want him to be afraid anymore - especially of me.

"I love you, Blair Sandburg," I whisper against his shirt, not sure if he can hear me or not, just knowing that I need to finally say the words out loud, to get them out of my head and into the light of day.

His hand gently pets my hair and suddenly I'm afraid to look up at him, afraid to look into his eyes.

"Look at me, Jim," I beg, needing to see his eyes the next time he tells me that he loves me.

He rolls his head back and forth across my abdomen, his arms wrapped around my thighs like a drowning man clings to a life raft in a high sea. I notice without surprise that my hands are beginning to shake where they rest on his head and shoulder. Soon the tremors are raging through me, weakening my knees, and with a broken sigh I slide down Jim's body and end up back in his arms. Jim still won't meet my gaze, immediately burying his face in my neck.

"Shhh," he soothes, no doubt feeling every wracking vibration as his hands clutch at my belt. The rich, masculine scent of him fills my head, reaching inside of me and setting loose basic desires that are nevertheless tempered with the love that has always been there for this man, even though until today I'd never recognized it for what it was. I want him so badly I ache with it - but first I need him to understand that he can't run away from me - from us - anymore.

"Look at me," I repeat, stronger this time because our entire world depends on him being able to come through right here, right now. I wait, impatience warring with the very real fear that I'd misunderstood everything, until a great shudder runs through him and he finally raises his head to look me squarely in the eye.

"You wanna repeat that?" I encourage softly, ruffling the hair at his temple and offering him a shaky smile.

His answering smile is heartbreakingly shy and steals my breath away. Gentle, warm palms frame my face and as I watch, all hesitancy and doubt are erased from his expression, leaving him more open to me than I'd ever imagined Jim Ellison could be.

"I said I love you, Blair Sandburg," he says, his voice low and perfectly clear. He tilts his head and when it's my turn to try and break eye contact, his grip tightens almost imperceptibly - but I get the message.

"Then, uh, I guess it's okay that I love you back, right?" Pinned by that sharp blue gaze, I give my eyebrows a quick wiggle, inviting him to share in the growing joy that is surely evident with each beat of my heart - a heart I know damn well he can hear.

His smile widens and as he draws me close, he whispers against my mouth, "Wouldn't have it any other way, Chief."

Until now, every kiss between us has been a battle, each one a hostage used as leverage in a desperate game. But now - God, now it's all about seduction, about long withheld desires that demand our full attention. Not five minutes ago he'd me aroused almost beyond bearing - how much sweeter it was now, with love as the catalyst.

Jim is everywhere, searching, tasting, coming back to my eager mouth again and again. I struggle to keep up, but when his hands slide down my chest and rip open my shirt from bottom to top, sending the mother-of-pearl snaps flying in all directions, all I can do is let out an approving moan and slump against him. A blazingly hot kiss pressed beneath my ear sets my nerves on fire and my hands begin pulling at his sweater, furiously intent on feeling his skin. Just as the fabric cooperates and I'm about to slide my hands over the smooth skin of his back, my tee shirt meets the same fate as my second best flannel - and I'm lost.

He's slumped against my chest, helpless with passion as I overwhelm his sense of touch. One of the advantages of being a sentinel is knowing not only how to use my senses, but understanding how others use them as well. His hands scrabble over my back, pulling on my sweater. I try to pull the tee over his head, but he is so intent on reaching skin that he won't let me lift his arms. Frustrated, I rip the back of his shirt in two, then push him back on his knees slightly so I can pull the offending garment off his body.

When I look deep into his dazed eyes, I can see his submission. No, that's not quite right. Not submission, but his trust, faith and love all wrapped up into one entity. I'm overwhelming him. A smug smile settles on my face, seconds before I lean forward and latch my lips onto his pierced nipple. The results are spectacular. His entire body surges against mine and he gasps like a drowning man.

Like a drowning man.

My heart is suddenly in my throat as I straighten.

"Jim?" he asks in voice so raw with desire it is all I can do not to take him here on the floor.

I immediately lean forward and kiss him deeply, even as I find my feet and stand, forcing him to his feet as well. He tries to pull back to ask what's going on, but I never stop my sensual assault and he is helpless to break away, although the soft moan in the back of his throat is more a question than anything else.

I slowly slide my hands down his bare back to his jeans-covered rear and lift. He seems to know what I want and jumps slightly, wrapping his legs around my waist as I support him. For a moment, he practically purrs with contentment, then his kisses become nastier, wider, wetter. I almost drop him, which only makes him chuckle wickedly in the back of his throat.

Blindly, I head for the bedroom, accidentally banging him on the doorway. He's so intent on getting his hands on my bare skin, pulling up my sweater, that I doubt he even noticed. All I know is if he succeeds before I reach the bed, I'll probably drop him on his ass. Fortunately, I reach my destination before he obtains his goal.

He hasn't even finished bouncing before I'm attacking his hiking boots and throwing them over my shoulder. The joyous laughter which bubbles out of him makes me want to join him, but I am intent on my own purpose. I unbuckle his belt and unsnap the brass brad on his jeans. His laughter stops in a gasp as I run my hand lightly over the bulge in his pants.

Although everything is screaming for me to rip his jeans off his body, I don't want to damage anything vital, so I gently pull open his pants, hook his boxers with my index fingers and pull both items of clothing from his body. When he is completely naked, except for his red wool socks, I take a moment to survey my treasure.

I swallow hard. Damn, but he's perfect. His chest is heaving as he tries to gain control and I can see a slight blush coloring his body.

"Take off your pants, Jim," he demands softly.

I blink at him, trying to understand what he just said. I heard the words but I'm not real sure what they mean. I lean forward and run one finger slowly down the center of his body. The reaction is spectacular. His nipples harden even further, and small tremors wrack his frame. As my finger moves lower, I see his body strain toward my hand. I feel the smile on my face deepen as I teasingly trace my finger around his steel and down the inside of his thigh. His trembling increases and in a moment of impishness, I slowly remove each of his socks, rolling each over his ankle and off his foot.

"Pants, Jim," he demands in a harsher voice.

"What?" I asked, finally looking back to his face.

Jim Ellison owns me. Heart, mind, soul - and soon, please God, soon - body.

The aggression in my voice as I order him to take off his clothes is illusory. I'm surprised that anything comes out of my mouth at all. Somehow, I'm not real clear on the details, Jim has me naked on the burgundy and forest green quilt that covered the bed I'd designated as mine when we'd first come in. But everything - including the fact that I'm still wearing socks - fades away as I look up into the face of this man that I love, only to see love looking right back at me.

I've never 'given' myself to anyone before. To me, making love has always been a game, a fun game and one where everyone wins, but a game nonetheless. This is so different I can't - I can't explain it. If Jim had wanted to take me on the floor back there, I would have let him. Jesus, I was practically begging him to, but in giving over control to him I know I've let myself in for an unimaginable experience. Giving control, giving myself is my ultimate act of trust and I know Jim won't fail me.

Fingers that had stripped me so competently are now fumbling to undo buttons that strain against the denim of his Levi's. I laugh for the sheer hell of it, every inch of me silently demanding that he touch me again, even though it feels as though my heart will explode with each caress. And his eyes! God! I've never seen so much emotion aimed at me, all for me. As he slides off his jeans, taking the underwear with them, his gaze never leaves mine. I swallow and arch helplessly against the quilt, my body reacting to the desire I see there. Without speaking, he's saying that I'm beautiful, that I'm wanted - that I'm his.

When Jim finally lays down beside me, the mood between us changes once again. I think, in his wisdom, Jim moved us to a bed as a tacit acknowledgment that this isn't just a quick fuck between friends. Here, there is an intimacy that is undeniable, a feeling that all beds from now will be shared - in essence, this was like a marriage bed. The thought brings unwelcome moisture to my eyes and I turn into Jim's arms, grabbing hold of him with almost frantic strength.

"Whoa, there," he whispers into my ear. "Okay?"

I nod vehemently and then I allow myself to let go, beginning a journey with my mouth that starts at his collarbone. His fingers tangle in my hair as he lets me taste where I want, nip what I want, kiss everything else, and when my travels have led me to that taut, flawless abdomen, I whisper my desire, knowing he'll hear me.

"Make love to me, Jim."

I stop breathing.

"Wha-what?"

Blair rests his chin on my abdomen and graces me with the most seductive smile that I have ever witnessed. "Make love to me," he whispers again.

I hook my hands under his armpits and pull him upward until he is laying on my chest and we are face-to-face. I search his eyes, looking for any trace of doubt, but find nothing except love and trust. He teasingly kisses my chin, his dancing eyes never leaving mine. I groan as my whole body reacts to the invitation, then wrap my arms around him and roll him over so that he's beneath me. Blair raises his knees on both sides of my hips then tangles his legs with mine.

"I...I..."

"What?" he asks softly, then gently bites my collarbone.

I gasp and arch downward, desperately trying to hold onto the thought I need to tell him. "I didn't...bring...anything."

The exquisite torture stops. "Nothing?"

I shake my head. "You?"

He chuckles softly in disbelief. "No."

I can't help it, I laugh. "Well, Stanley, this is another fine mess you've gotten us into."

"Me?" he squeaks indignantly, but it's all an act. "I was supposed to be fishing."

"Hey, how do you expect to catch the big fish without bait?" I tease, shaking my head over our predicament.

But instead of laughing, something in his eyes grows serious. "We could always go bar-"

"No!" I cut him off in a tone that brooks no argument. "Not the first time. I can't risk hurting you."

"Jim-"

"No," I repeat adamantly.

"I trust you."

Three simple words. Three simple words that make me feel like I can fly.

I kiss him deeply, exploring the depths of his mouth. I kiss him until he's breathless with anticipation, then whisper, "I can't."

"Jim-"

"I love you so much," I whisper, cutting off his protest.

His brow furls for a moment, then his body arches upward against mine. We both gasp as our bodies align. "Thank goodness there's more than one way to do this." He smiles up at me as he closes the distance between us again, making my whole body shudder with anticipation.

"You understand, don't you?" I ask, desperately needing him to know my intent, even as I thrust down. "Because this is forever."

He blinks at me as if he doesn't understand.

"Blair? You do realize this is forever, don't you?"

Forever.

A word I've never applied to anything in my life.

My mind is still reeling with the impact of Jim's refusal to take what I'd offered him - was it me? Did he not want me that way? I mean, I'd joked about there being more than one way to make love - but old insecurities are hard to shake. Guys like me, we don't end up with guys like Jim Ellison - it was some kind of Universal Constant of Geekdom.

Did I believe Jim loved me? God, yes, no doubts there. Would I have given him anything he'd wanted? Absolutely. Did he want - that - or was our lack of preparation an excuse to beg off? In my head, I knew he was right. Neither of us expected to get lucky on an all male fishing trip - except maybe Daryl, who'd already chatted up one of the cute girls who worked up at the lodge. Still, I can't help but wonder, and even as my body is straining up to his, that niggling uncertainty parks itself in the back of my mind.

Then, in the midst of all this lust-soaked confusion, Jim drops the word 'forever' on me - and I can't find a single thing to say to him. He's not offering me a romp in the sheets, or just his love - he's offering me fidelity. And if you know Jim - and I like to think that I do - this isn't something he gives lightly.

As I pause, his expression is becoming haunted and I hate the fact that my hesitation has brought these shadows to his eyes. Quit being an idiot, I chide myself. Deal with the here and now.

"Forever," I murmur, sliding my hand around his neck and guiding him down to me. When he's within in reach, I place a kiss on the lid of each worried-filled eye, across his furrowed forehead, at the corners of his tense mouth, interspersing my caresses with the word 'yes', over and over, until in self-defense Jim shifts and gathers me close as he turns onto his back. He allows me one last look into his eyes before taking my mouth in a kiss that sears me through to my soul.

Passion that had been momentarily banked flares between us again, bewildering in its intensity. I spread myself full length on Jim's body and the ultimate connection is made, wringing cries from both of us. I reach out blindly with one hand and he's there, tangling our fingers together and giving us a foundation as the universe begins tilting around us. His other hand glides down the slope of my back, eventually curving around me and guiding our rhythm.

This is it, I chant silently, devouring the flesh beneath my lips until Jim captures my mouth again. There's so much I want to tell him, so much I need to say, but with one intimate stroke of a well-placed finger, any remaining shred of coherence is lost. My world is reduced to heat and sweat and unimaginable pleasure, and in a moment filled with blinding incandescence, I fall headlong into ecstasy.

I have never seen anything as heart-stoppingly beautiful as Blair Sandburg in the midst of a climax. I have always dreamed that he would be a screamer, but nothing could be further from the truth. His head is thrown back, his mouth is open, but no sound emerges. I suck on the hollow of his throat, marking him. For whether he realizes it or not, he is mine...for eternity. Just as I am his.

His breath quivers like he's cold, even though I can still feel him pulsing hotly over my stomach. His whole body is trembling as he gives me everything. And he is - giving me everything. He's holding nothing back. I'm humbled by his display of trust.

Finally, when he can no longer hold his body taut over mine, he collapses exquisitely against me -- suddenly vulnerable, suddenly fragile. I wrap both of my arms around him, keeping him, my soul, safe and warm.

I hum softly as I rock him back and forth, waiting for him to regain his breath and composure. After several minutes, he finally lifts his head. His curly hair veils his dark blue eyes and I push several strands behind each of his ears to reveal a suddenly shy face. I gently kiss his nose, the space between his eyes and each of his eyebrows.

"Hey," he whispers.

I smile at him. "Hey back."

"I'm sorry about...I mean...I'm not usually..."

I cut off his protests with a kiss. He moans into my mouth. As the kiss becomes deeper, his entire body shudders against mine, then abruptly stills.

"What?" I asked, frightened, when he breaks off our kiss.

"You didn't..."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that." Somehow he manages to sound both embarrassed and aggrieved at the same time. "Look, I've never... that is...not since I was sixteen..."

I cut off his explanation with another kiss, even as I roll him beneath me once again. I arch slightly and wipe his essence off our stomachs and smear it between his upper legs and over my throbbing need. "Good thing there's more than one way to do this," I tease, as I push his legs together with my knees and slowly sink myself between his flesh.

We both gasp, although I will admit mine is a bit more smug than his.

I thrust downward. "I love you."

When I arch back up, his body follows mine. I slowly push him down again with my hips. "I've loved you for such a long time I can't even pinpoint when I realized it was love."

His breath shudders and I close my eyes momentarily, trying to maintain my rhythm. "You belong to me, my beautiful shaman," I whisper as his eyes half-close with renewed passion.

"And you?" he asks, as our bodies continue their achingly slow dance.

"I belong to you. Just as you've always known. It's just taken me a little longer to figure it out."

He smiles knowingly at me.

"Promise me," I demand as the electricity of our joining sings up and down my spine, making speaking harder.

"Promise you what?" he asks, pushing himself hard up against me.

"Promise me, no matter what, we'll face everything together," I gasp out, trying hard not to pick up our pace, even though my body is screaming at me. "Blair?" I ask, looking down into his eyes when he doesn't respond right away.

"Everything," I repeat eventually, amazed I can get a word out at all. The hot, branding length of him pulsing between my thighs is the most erotic sensation I've ever experienced; his words of love, praise, even ownership flow over me like warm honey and all I want to do is witness Jim reach that perfect place like I did - and yet, in the midst of his passion, he wants promises from me.

"I promise, ahh, God - " a particularly well-placed thrust has my body thinking it's time to restart the ol' engine. I bite my bottom lip and try to force out the rest of my vow. "I promise, even if you, oh, Jesus, Jim, yeah!"

Instead of giving Jim the freedom to let himself find relief, my words seem to bother him. I run my hands over his hips and down across his buttocks, deeply pleased but unsurprised that he fits perfectly in the palms of my hands. Above me, Jim squeezes his eyes shut and holds himself rigidly still.

"Even if - what, Blair?" he grinds out, pinning me with blue eyes hazy with hungry affection. "Tell me."

I muster up a smile meant to reassure him, wanting to frame my next words so that he won't feel something stupid, like guilt - my Jim is really, really good at the doing the guilt thing.

"I can face anything with you beside me," I murmur, "even if this - " I wiggle my hips, making him stifle a moan " - is as far as we ever go."

"What - mmm - God, what are you talking - Blair?" His eyes widen and I realize he's caught on.

"Shh," I soothe, "it's okay, shh, I love you - "

A faintly wicked grin appears on Jim's face. "Seems, ahh, seems we have a little communication failure going on here, Chief."

He bends down and kisses me hard, his tongue thrusting inside my mouth in a sensual counterpoint to his lower body.

"Let me spell it out for you and pay attention - there's gonna be a quiz when we get home."

"I am going to take you, Blair Sandburg," I vow quietly, just before I bite his collarbone. "I'm going to fill you so deep, you're going to be able to feel me in your throat - from the bottom."

Dark blue eyes blink up at me in astonishment.

"I'm going to pound you so hard that you'll throb for a week and every twinge will remind you of who you belong to."

He moans quietly.

"Then I'll make love to you so gently, so slowly that you'll beg me to take you. There'll be no more quiet orgasms, lover. The neighbors are going to be reporting us regularly for disturbing the peace."

Blair undulates beneath me, and I thrust against him several times until he's mewling with need.

"I'm going to open you up with my tongue and thrust into you until I find the nub which will make your world explode." Blair moans, his head rolling back on the pillow, exposing his neck to me. I whisper against his throat, nipping it between words, "You'll pray for release...which I may or may not give you...I'll tease you...tempt you...take you to the edge time and time again until you know nothing but pleasure...and then when you don't think you can stand another moment...I'll fill you with my length and pound into you until you scream my name to the heavens."

"Jim," he cries out, then bites my shoulder.

I straighten my arms over him and thrust against him, over and over again, feeling his hips arch upward, feeling his fingers rake down my back and around my hips. I start panting, barely able to breathe, feeling sweat trickle down my shoulder blades.

"Never," I grit out as I pound against him, "doubt...that...I will...take you. But not...until... I know...I won't...hurt you."

"Let go, Jim," he whispers, his cool hands on either side of my face. "Let it go, beloved. I'll catch you."

I grind against him one final time, throwing my head back as my world explodes in heat and love, knowing that he will be there to catch me, just as he's always been.

Heaven. Never been here before, but now I know exactly what it is.

Heaven is Jim arching that magnificent body high above me as he cries out in triumph. Heaven is Jim collapsing gently on top of me, guarding me from hurt even though I think he's half unconscious. Heaven is Jim promising me a lifetime of passion, love, laughter, stupid arguments and heady reunions after unwanted separations. Heaven is being Jim's shaman even as he is my sentinel, bound in love and supported by trust.

Heaven - my heaven is found in Jim Ellison.

He's breathing hard against my neck, his hands clutching convulsively at my upper arms. I draw my hands soothingly along his shoulders and down his spine, whispering nonsensical phrases that I doubt even he can hear. My body is more sated than I can ever remember; Jim's raunchy, love-filled monologue had wrung another, slightly less devastating climax from me, although I don't think he noticed.

My body may be thrumming with immeasurable joy, but my mind is going a mile a minute. This all started as an argument over my judgment, over what Jim saw as a threat and I recognized as an opportunity. It isn't a stretch for me to realize that I'd give up anything for Jim. If he asks me, I'll break off contact with my other subject, even though it'll hurt my work. Nothing - nothing - is worth losing the heaven I've just been given.

But a part of me thinks that I could be short-changing Jim. Maybe now that we've committed ourselves to each other so completely, he'll see things differently.

He stirs a little and I smile as his tongue swipes lazily at my collar bone.

"Back in the land of the living there, Ellison?" I tease as he raises his head. He's not ready for banter yet - instead, he kisses me tenderly, as overcome by the perfection of all this as I was a few minutes ago.

My fingers sift through his soft hair until he can look me in the eye, then I decide to let him know how in the space of such a small amount of time, he's changed everything.

"Hey, just so you know - I'm canceling any further communications with my email subject." I keep my voice light, knowing that when he tries, he can read my feelings through every inflection.

He scoots around a little until he's situated more comfortably, a little frown creasing his forehead.

God, have I blown it already? I'm about to start babbling, thinking maybe he's wondering why I would even consider anything else, when he speaks.

"Hold on there, Chief. I think we should discuss this."

He's looking at me so expectantly, it's all I can do not to lean over and kiss him again. But now is not the time for distraction. It's time for the truth.

I swallow hard and close my eyes.

"Jim?" he asks in concern, his hand gently caressing my shoulder, grounding me like he always has.

I take a deep breath, open my eyes and lick my lips. "I...I was afraid."

"Of what, Jim?" he whispers, his hand never leaving my body.

"Of losing you," I say, holding his eyes with my own, speaking the fear which has motivated so many of my actions of late.

"You're never going to lose me, Jim." He smiles sweetly at me. "We are forever."

I lean forward and tenderly brush my lips over his. "I know, but that's not what I meant."

He looks confused, but waits for me to speak.

I hook a strand of stray hair over his right ear. "I was afraid of holding your lifeless body again. I...I can't go through that again. Ever."

He's silent for a moment. "I know." Then quickly adds, "That's why I'm going to cut off all contact with the email subject."

I grab his hand to get his attention. "No."

"No? But I thought -"

"No," I repeat, rubbing my free hand over my forehead. "That's not what I want."

"What do you want then?" he asks softly.

I take a deep breath, then look into his dark passion-sated eyes, and bring his hand to my chest. "I want you to take me with you when you meet him...or her."

"What?"

"If this..." I close my eyes and try again. "I remember how afraid I was before you came into my life. My senses were overwhelming, my skin was attacking me. I thought I was going crazy. If you can help this person, you need to do it."

"Jim-"

I gently place a finger over his lips. "I trust you, Blair. I do. I just need to be by your side...to protect you. I know you don't need me that way, but I need to do this for me. I know you can handle yourself; I know what finding another potential sentinel could mean for your work; and I know what finding you could mean to someone who's suffering like I was. Just let me walk by your side on this. Okay? Maybe together we can help this...person. Please."

There is something extremely humbling about being given everything you've ever wanted. All my adult life, I'd been fascinated by the phenomena of the tribal sentinel. I made it my life's work and when I actually found one, I thought I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

I was so wrong. That was nothing.

"Jim...God, man, are you - are you sure?" It's a knee jerk question because Jim isn't in the habit of saying things he doesn't mean. But this is so unexpected, so huge, that I can't stop myself from asking.

As I watch, a little smile quirks Jim's lips. "Yeah, I'm sure."

A horrible thought crosses my mind and suddenly I can't meet his eyes. He raises my chin with a gentle finger and when our gazes collide, he tips his head questioningly.

"What if - " I swallow hard because I can barely think the name, let alone say it " - what if this turns out to be another Alex?"

"It won't," he says with a calm assurance that goes a long way to easing my fears.

"How do you - "

My mouth is lightly covered by a large hand. "Blair - listen to me. That's never going to happen. Not ever. You have my word."

His words are simple but his eyes are alight with an emotion I can't name. Mesmerized, I nod and am rewarded with a deep kiss. I won't doubt him about this again.

I don't know about Jim, but I've lost all concept of time. The rooms have gotten dark so I know that night has fallen - and right on cue, my stomach gives an annoyed rumble. Jim is dozing, his big, warm body half draped over mine, so I give him a little nudge with my elbow. He snuffles against my hair and his arm tightens around my midsection, but that's all the reaction I get.

Okay, time to bring out the big guns. I slip a little sideways and run my cold foot up his calf -

Wait a minute. How did my feet get so cold?

This time when I nudge Jim, it's with a little more pressure.

"Jim? Hey, Jim?"

"Wha - " he mutters, blinking at me.

"What happened to my socks, man?"

"Socks?"

"Yeah, Jim, my socks. Wasn't I just wearing them?"

"Took your socks off, Chief. Long time ago. You getting hungry?"

I hoist myself up on my elbows to look around and sure enough, there they are. One is dangling off the frame of the mirror that hangs over the dresser and the other is draped over a floor lamp near the window.

"Nice shot," I murmur appreciatively.

"Hunh?" Jim is sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's completely clueless regarding the obvious enthusiasm with which he disposed of my clothing and I can't help it - I scoot up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, planting a kiss on his shoulder.

"Do you think Simon and Daryl will notice anything different about us in the morning?" I give his earlobe a nip.

He chuckles and slides his arms over mine.

"They'd have to be blind, I think. Don't know how you're gonna be able to keep your hands off of me."

I have to laugh, delighted at his flirting. "Yeah? Then maybe we should stay in and avoid them."

Jim turns and takes me in his arms. "Much as I'd like to, don't you think they'd be more suspicious if we never do any fishing?"

"Yeah, you're right," I say with a half-hearted sigh.

"Don't sweat it, Chief. You and I have the rest of our lives to spend together. Couple of days fishing will do us some good."

"Besides," he continues with a playful leer, "we'll still be spending our nights here in the cabin - alone."

"Oh, yeah," I grin back, flexing my eyebrows. Before he can stop me, I jump off the bed and start gathering my clothes. Pointing at him with the toe of my boot, I decide to give him a little reminder. "And don't think I'm letting you off the hook for ruining not one, but two of my shirts, Tarzan."

"Tarzan?" he roars, and the chase is on.

Later, after an embarrassingly quick capture, I'm forced to take back the Tarzan remark. After we recover from that little episode, we finally get around to ordering room service.

That night, held firmly in the embrace of my worn-out sentinel, I marvel at how completely my life has changed from the one I woke up to this morning. Looking back, I know I came so close to losing everything. Instead, now I know that I love and am beloved - and I'm looking at future that can only be described as a gift.

Heaven is a place on earth - and my place is at Jim's side. Forever.

finis

End Heaven Is A Place On Earth by Dolimir and Veronica: veronica@aithine.org,Dolimir@aol.com

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