Author's disclaimer: I don't own the Sentinel. I wish I was making some money out of this, but I'm Not!

Author's notes: My first finished Sen story. be gentle with me. Many Thanks to Anne Bonnell for the great beta at such short notice, Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own fault

What we want, and what we get, part 1, Blair February 1st

I want to redo the last few hours, have a real conversation instead of shoptalk. I want the courage to tell him.

I didn't think I'd ever put anything in a journal again. Not after the trouble my journals and notes have gotten me into in the last few years. I can't think of anyone I can talk to about this, though. So, I've given into the urge to think things through on paper. I hope it still works.

I'm not sure how long I stared into the fire after he went home, could have been minutes or hours. I do know it was still light when he went and by the time I moved it was dark. I know it was really, really, dark because I stumbled into the couch as I fumbled toward the stairs. I know I hurt more with every minute I spent thinking and contemplating the flames. I have this mixed up multi-denominational-pagan thing going, you see, and flame staring is a big part of so many ancient cultures that I thought I'd give it a try, see if there was anything to it. It should have been a good meditation aid, but I was too depressed even for that.

I can see how the shamans and wise men had great visions doing this with a little peyote in their systems.

I'm rambling; there's a surprise.

I'm still having trouble figuring out when everything changed. For years now, we've been joking and teasing, even flirting if we were drunk and not looking each other in the eye. He doesn't seem to have noticed that I'm not as comfortable with him as I was a few months ago, before I took that headlong dive into total confusion. The easy, relaxed feeling has gone since I started to realise how I feel about him. I don't want to make the effort to be noticed in case he sees those feelings, and yet, at the same time I want him to notice me, how I look, what I'm doing. A little praise would go a long way. Yet he still teases like everyone else does. I don't think he realizes that it hurts coming from him far more that it ever could from anyone else.

I know he wouldn't even consider the possibility that I would cheat with him, when I already have someone at home he can't find any fault with. It's easy to see the best in someone if you don't have to spend much time with them, but when it's 24-7 it's a little harder to stay tolerant. I suppose it depends on the person. As annoying as it was to live with all the house rules, I still never got tired of his company.

I think I wore out my tolerance for my partners' quirks and bad habits about a week after we got together. I never have been able to take defeat, so when everyone said it was a mismatch and we wouldn't last, I decided we would, no matter what.

Well I hadn't reckoned on this... These feelings I have for him. It seems to get stronger the more I try to ignore it. And I'm sure he hasn't even noticed. He had plenty to say about his own feelings before I moved out, he admits that I'm his best friend, and he's ever had a few 'Weird' dreams that involved me. He did elaborate on his definition of weird, but I'm not going to go into that right now as it just makes me feel worse, and he didn't seem please to be having them. Suffice to say he surprised himself, as I'm not his usual type. Who am I kidding; I am SO not his type. Until recently I thought I was the wrong sex and then there's the little matter of us both being 'married', not a major complication for him but really not good for me. I'm told that when I want something, I'm not very discrete about it. That worries me more than anything else. Is he hinting that he's caught me looking? I don't think he'd be so subtle about it if he had, he'd just come right out and ask; at least I hope he would. Maybe not, he was plenty subtle about liking guys. I lived with him for years and didn't have a clue.

They seem to have an 'Open Relationship'. I think the thing that hurts me more than any other, is the stories I hear, from him and from other people, of what he gets up to. He gets around a bit; He didn't used to be like that, not until he thought I was settled down. He's changed. Now he's always safe but always on the look out for the next conquest, even after 'marriage' had him supposedly tied down. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at that. From what he's told me marriage didn't tie him down much the first time, so there's no reason to think that a second would be all that different. Of course he's actually allowed to play around this time, so he's far from discrete.

It can actually be fun to hear him talk about his 'little adventures'. I'm not a masochist or anything, well not when it comes to my feelings anyway; I just get such a kick out of seeing him happy. He's not really happy that often, he seems to always be struggling with something, always waiting for the next thing that will knock him down and kick him. There's only so much I can do to help.

For a while I think we spent more time together that either of us do with our respective partners now, but I know that he was there because it was work, not because I would be there. It wasn't that way for me, The work always came a poor second to whatever he needed. I'm not sure, but I think I may have pushed a little too hard, made him go just beyond his limits in my quest to prove that he could achieve more and could be better at the job than anyone else.

One of the things I figured out about myself at a very young age is that people either love me or loathe me; there's not middle ground.

I don't want to find the middle ground with him; I want him to love me. But that's not going to happen. However much in love with him I am, he will always be in love with someone else. And there is, after all, someone else in love with me.

That's no consolation, though. It doesn't change how I feel. It just adds to the confusion. I'm quite comfortable with the concept of loving two people, equally but differently; I just wish they were both as comfortable with it. He doesn't see things that way; He has love and sex thoroughly separated. I suppose I did for a while as well, but that was never the real me. The table leg comments where fine when I was trying to fit in with the macho PD image. Anyway, as I was saying I could live with just sex if he'd put a little my way, but, As I said, I am SO not his type and anyway my 'significant other' would not be pleased.

See, told you I could ramble, could do it for the gold if it were an Olympic event.

What this entire ramble amounts to is I'm in love with my best friend, who is totally oblivious, and just tolerating my significant other who is equally oblivious (proof positive that you don't have to like someone to love them). NO, that's fair. She's still my friend. She'll always be that, this just isn't working anymore.

I've thought about telling everyone concerned exactly how I feel, and quickly discounted that as a very bad idea, married and lusting after your friends has got to be a better condition than divorced without any friends.

So I suppose I just keep plodding along, not rocking the boat, keeping the apple cart stable, and any other cliche you can come up with. I'm not going to try, trust me you don't want to know how many different ways of keeping the status quo there are.

So what have I got? I really have no idea.

I suppose that if I ever figure it out I'll let you know, but for now I think I'll just put this damn journal away and try to get some sleep.

End, Part 1

What we want, and what we get, Part 2, Jim February 14th

I want him to stop running away and admit he has problems. I want to help him solve them. I want to love him. If he'll let me.

He's getting more obvious. He used to be really subtle about it but since he started having problems with Connor he's more and more obvious. They didn't even do the valentines stuff today.

I knew there was something wrong a couple weeks ago, I spent the evening over there while Connor was on a stake out. We went over a few case files, but he was to quiet, to business like, Too... not Blair. I thought he was going to say something when I left, but he seemed to change his mind.

Connor called when she got in. Just to let me know they got the smugglers they were waiting for. She seemed quiet as well, like she just couldn't summon up any words.

She took me aside later in the week and confided that they should never have tried to be more than friends, it's just not working for either of them. She wants him to move out and she asked if I'd let him stay at the loft for a while. I don't think she's spoken to him about it yet.

After the fiasco with his dissertation I though things would settle down, I couldn't have been more wrong. He seemed to lose what little judgement he had when it came to women and threw himself at Megan with the same enthusiasm he throws himself at everything. Not that there's any thing wrong with Connor, they're just not goods as a couple, not as good as they are as friends. It seemed the more people pointed out the potential problems the more determined they were to make a go of it.

So instead of settling down and getting back to being us, He got a badge and a gun and moved in with Megan. They even had this hippie commitment thing, not legal, but a commitment anyway.

Contrary to what everyone seems to think, I'm not in a relationship at the moment, I've been dating, but not seriously.

When Rafe's flat mate went off to get married last year, he couldn't afford to keep his place. It seemed like the friendly thing to do, ask him to stay for a while, share the bills, watch a few games, and stop the loft from feeling so empty. I don't know why every one assumed we had started dating each other, even Blair seems prepared to believe it. As I said, contrary to what everyone thinks we're only sharing the loft, we're not sharing a bed.

I wish things had been different, wish I'd never met Naomi. I know he would still be with me if it weren't for what she and that publisher did. I'd still have my guide. I'd still NEED my guide.

He doesn't know about that yet, doesn't know that the senses are all but gone, they still flare up occasionally, mostly when he's around. I haven't told him about the dreams either.

I'm running through the jungle and I can hear a wolf howling ahead of me, sometimes I catch a glimpse of it. Its never alone, sometimes Incacha is there, trying to give comfort, trying to stop the howling, sometimes there's an angry looking possum following the wolf around, Spiting at me when I get too close. I have a feeling that it may be Connors spirit animal, it suits her. It's sort of cute, but with a really nasty bite. Nothing seems to stop the howling though. It's such a sad sound.

For once I don't need to ask him what the dreams mean, it's pretty obvious. I still need to follow the guide and the guide isn't happy. Doesn't take genius to figure that out. What I don't know is what I should do about it. He hardly speaks to me any more, not since I crashed the truck again and got myself three months riding a desk and wearing a cast. I only have another week of torture and then I can get my partner back and do some real work. I'm not sure if it's going to be that easy though. He doesn't seem to be missing me as a partner. He's spending a hell of a lot of time staring at my butt, but he's still not talking to me.

And that's the problem I started of with, my Guide obviously wants me physically, and that's just great, but I don't think he wants me intellectually anymore. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, I've treated him like nothing to often for him to trust me anymore.

I'll just have to make more of an effort to show that I trust him.

I've got no reason to give up now, I've waited this long and I can be a very patient man.

End, part 2

What we want, and what we get, part 3, Rafe February 28th

I want H. And I want some peace and quiet.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and yes again. Finally I can move out of this hell. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't appreciate the hospitality. But lets face it, Ellison is a prime candidate for Mr Uptight USA.

I do not understand how anyone could think I was in a relationship with Ellison. How could anyone have a long-term relationship with a guy who won't eat while watching a ball game in case he gets the couch dirty. I can see some logic in the color coded leftovers, but the guy has so many 'systems' and 'house rules' that I lost count. It's just not reasonable to expect a guy to tidy up the bathroom when he's hungry.

And all that health food shit, I thought that was Sandburg's scene, but it looks like it rubbed of on Ellison.

I knew, if I complained long enough and loud enough, H would take pity and invite me over for a while. Now I just have to work on getting him to invite me a little closer.

He's never been shy about being attracted to me but he has this stupid moral code that stops him 'getting involved in the work place'. I am going to change that. I am giving up on subtle, polite, seductive and anything else that hasn't worked so far. I am going to resort to tried and tested methods. Grab him and see what happens.

It can't be any worse than it is at the moment, If I have to follow him up one more flight of stairs I am gonna jump him in the PD and I could really do without getting IA involved in my sex life.

I have a definite plan. I move on Saturday morning, and by Sunday evening I will be outta the spare room, one way or another. If I'm wrong, I'm sure my mom will put me up for a few days.

And nothing could be worse than Mr Color coded Tupperware.

I either have every thing I want, or I have nothing at all, but at least I won't be wondering which it is anymore.

End, part 3

What we want, and what we get, part 4, Megan March 18th

I want to take it back. I don't want him to hurt anymore. I want him to tell Jim how he really feels.

I didn't think it would be so hard to tell him; I really thought he wanted to end it, too.

I never expected him to cry over me.

He's gone already; it didn't take him long to pack up what little stuff he has.

He left all the anthropology stuff at Jim's anyway, so all he really had were his clothes and a few academy study guides. Now that he's gone, it's even more obvious that we were never going to work, He had so little here. I don't think he ever really moved in.

I thought it would seem quiet without him, but there's really been no difference. For the last couple of months we've hardly seen each other outside of work. We've been on different shifts since Jim took out a tree and his left knee a couple of months back.

I hadn't really realized how bad it's been until now.

It's not that we were fighting or anything. Just sort of went back to being 'just friends', I'm not sure we were ever really anything more than that.

Sandy's been in love with Jim for as long as I can remember. I knew that when we got together, but I didn't understand what that meant for us. And I didn't realize that Sandy hadn't admitted it to himself.

If I had know that he would spend so much time pining for his Sentinel, I would never have asked him to move in. That's when they started, the quiet brooding spells. Totally out of character for Sandy, I didn't think he knew how to be quiet.

It didn't take me long to realize that it wasn't anything I'd done. He just missed Jim; missed being with him 24-7.

When Rafe moved into the loft Sandy cried for hours. It must have been cathartic though, and for weeks after that he was his usual bouncy, talkative self.

It couldn't last, when he realized Jim was still seeing other people he went right back to surly and silent. I hope being back with Jim will help, but I'm not sure. It's hard to know what Ellison is thinking. It's quite possible that he expects everything to go back to how it was before the 'Dis fiasco' as Sandy calls it. Rafe's moving in with H this morning, so Sandy will have his old room back and every thing will be back to how it was two years ago.

And all I have to show for it is a few holiday photos and a bitter after taste. At least I still have him as a friend though, that much hasn't changed.

End, part 4

What we want, and what we get, part 5, Henri March 18th

I want this to last forever.

But WHOA, man what a weird day, majorly good, but weird.

I was wondering when I got up this morning how the hell I was gonna live Rafe, without jumping him over breakfast. Well, Duh, no brainer there man.

You have to understand I've been lusting after the guy since I first laid eyes on him, years ago. We've indulged in a bit of drunken flirting but I thought we had agreed that 'office romances' don't work.

Then he goes and moves in with Jim Ellison. It took me a long time to realise that they were nothing more than room mates, and I think I broke all records for bitchy behavior before I figured it out. Jim got more than a few pieces of my mind.

But today... well today has been just about the best day I have ever had, and there are definitely no misunderstandings this time.

I left Rafe unpacking when I went into the PD this after noon, I was supposed to be about an hour, but as with all things work related, it took a little longer than it should have.

I expected to get back to a pissed off, exhausted roommate, and a lot of half-empty packing boxes.

I was wrong, he must have had help with the unpacking during the afternoon. When I rolled in just after six, the place was immaculate, and dinner was waiting on the table with Candles and flowers and stuff.

I thought for a minute that Rafe had invited a date over.

I was quickly disabused of that notion. Warm, naked Rafe will do that for you. While I was still staring stupidly at all that bare skin, He just walked up and kissed me. The guy really knows how to get his point across. And man did he get his point across.

On the couch, on the floor, on the table after we'd eaten the cold pasta, and finally in the shower.

I think that tomorrow we'll try for the bed, and maybe the desk.

I wonder if Simon would have a problem with running major crimes as a nudist friendly environment? I don't think I want to see my partner with his clothes on ever again. All that pale, bare skin is just so appealing.

I have exactly what I want and need. And I intend to keep him.

End, part 5

What we want, and what we get, part 6, Jim March 20th

I want thing to be easier between us than this. I want him to be happy. I want bouncy Blair back

He's been back for two days now, and we still haven't talked about anything more personal than what's for dinner and do the same house rules still apply.

I told him to forget the rules and just try not to make too much mess. I think he was surprised. I know Rafe's been complaining about the house rules to anyone who would listen. So it makes sense that Blair would expect them to still be in place when he moved back in.

I'm determined to make his life as easy as possible this time though. No house rules, no wise cracks about table legs, no complaints when he serves up something healthy.

He hasn't done that so far, but then we haven't eaten at the loft yet, it's been mostly burgers whilst running between crime scene's, one of the disadvantages of working the weekend. The other big disadvantage this weekend is that Blair hasn't had time to unpack anything.

The working weekend is only a minor irritation compared with the other big problem I have right now. Since Blair moved back in on Saturday, my senses are back with full force and I'm reacting to stuff I haven't been allergic to since he moved out.

He noticed of course, but he wanted to know why I hadn't told him about this before.

I couldn't bring myself to tell him that it wasn't happening when he was away. I know Blair, if he thinks he's causing this he'll leave again. I don't think I could take him leaving again.

I don't understand why he's so distant. I know he's attracted to me. It was obvious before, but now that I can smell him, hear his pulse react to me, see his pupils dilate, Now I can only assume that he's missing Megan more than even she thought he would.

I know he cried when he left her. She called to let me know that he would be upset when he arrived.

He must have pulled himself together on the drive over, he seemed quiet when he arrived, almost resigned, but not outwardly upset.

His mood has been the same since then, resigned. Like a condemned man in Simon's opinion. I don't think it's quite that bad, but Simon has better instincts about Sandburg than I do recently, so I'm willing to trust his judgement.

I don't have any choice really. If I don't do things right this time, I may never get another chance.

End, part 6

What we want, and what we get, part 7, Simon March 26th

I really want my best team back up to speed.

I thought things would get better when Blair moved back into the loft, and I suppose I should give them a few more days to settle down. But damn it I've given them two weeks and nothing has changed

I'm losing patience here, If they weren't my friends as well as my best detectives, they would already be in traffic.

It's been obvious from the start that the only thing keeping Connor and Sandburg together was a mile wide shared stubborn streak. It had to end eventually and I don't think either of them was really surprised. In fact Sandburg still seems far more comfortable with Connor than he is with Ellison.

They're both back on desk duty again. Only for a few days this time, but it may have to be longer if I can't talk some sense into them.

They very nearly got each other killed today. Ellison is supposed to be able to hear things, like kids with guns in Wal-Mart. But no, he just goes strolling in, and I don't know WHAT Sandburg thought he was doing throwing himself in front of a bullet.

As it turned out, the kids were firing blanks so no one got shot. Well not yet anyway. I'm not sure what Ellison might do when they get home. He may shoot the kid just to prove to him that bullets HURT. As it is they're both nicely bruised and waiting for IA, shouldn't be a problem there. Jim shot a hole in the roof to get their attention, but he managed to resist the urge to shoot the dumb kids.

I am just about at the end of my tolerance with these two. God knows they caused enough trouble before Sandburg had a gun. Now I fear for my sanity and the safety of the public. If they can't start reading each other again I'm going to have to separate them permanently. And I really don't want to do that, Without Sandburg, Jim may spend the rest of his career tied to a desk.

I don't want to do it, but I may have no choice. As their friend I want them to be happy, as their boss I want them to be efficient. At the moment they're neither.

I have a hard task over the next few days, I have to get my best team to see that they love each other and then get them back to work.

I have a headache.

End, part 7

What we want, and what we get, part 8, Blair March 26th

I want to know when my life turned into a surrealist painting.

I cannot believe the day I've had. Man, why can't Jim's senses ever go wrong when everything is quiet and boring. I'm beginning to wonder if he does it for the excitement, Or to see if I'm paying attention.

Seems I wasn't paying attention as well as I thought I was, Observation skills must be getting rusty. I mean, how could I have missed this.

Jim LOVES me. JIM loves me. Jim loves ME!

It make no difference how I say it, it still sounds perfect.

God what a day, those stupid kids, and so many bruises. I think I landed on bones I didn't know I had. But hey, if Jim's gonna kiss it better, I want to always have bruises.

And god, Jim knows how to kiss it better.

I wasn't too keen on the shouting part. He started with that. Told me what an idiot I was for jumping in front of guns and yelled and paced around, guess he got that habit from me. He doesn't seem to be able to stand still when he's angry anymore.

I digress. When the shouting was finished with he just stood there and stared at me. Then he shocked the hell out of me. While he's staring at me he starts to talk to himself. I don't think I was supposed to hear what he said, but I did. While he's mumbling about how he doesn't want me to die to save him, how he needs his guide, He says 'There are better ways to prove you love me, you don't have to die for it'

Well yeah, I knew that. I just didn't think Jim was interested, I mean he didn't say anything. And you know when I walk around wearing a towel and a major hard on, you'd have thought he'd have said something.

So I gathered all the courage I had left after a day of being shot at and asked him why he never said anything.

He is an idiot. I am an idiot. We are both idiots

You know what he said? He didn't think I wanted him to notice.

Well, no I didn't, but what I want isn't always what's best for me.

But that's OK, 'cause what I really wanted, is exactly what I got.

I got Jim, and ooooooh, there's a lot of Jim.

And we fit together perfectly.

End, part 8

What we want, and what we get, Part 9, Jim March 27th, just

I don't want to be disturbed for at least a week.

If Simon wants to talk to us he is going to have to break down the door, and he'd better be well armed. I am not answering the phones.

I lost control when we got home yesterday. I managed to keep my composure through most of the day, even when the idiots from IA asked if I had been tempted to just shoot the little bastards.

Of course I was tempted, they were shooting at my partner. But I can smell the difference between bullets and blanks. I didn't tell IA that obviously. I just told them where to go and what to do to them selves when they got there.

I hung on to my composure all afternoon and right through a meal at some health food restaurant I can't remember the name of.

I was still calm and collected when we got back to the loft and I stayed that way... Until Blair wandered out of the bathroom wearing just a towel and a colorful selection of bruises, that is.

He's a lot less self-conscious since he started going to the gym.

I could smell the pheromones pouring of him as he walked past me and I just lost control. I'm not sure exactly what I said, but I know I should have been a hell of a lot more grateful that he tried to save my life. None of that matters though.

He heard what I said afterwards, when I thought he wasn't listening anymore, when I thought he was considering the easiest, quickest way to leave. And he asked what I meant, wanted to know why I had never said anything. Then he told me I was an Idiot.

And then everything gets clearer. I don't think I will ever forget how it felt to wrap my arms around him and kiss him until we both had to gasp for breath.

At some point I'm sure we talked about love and commitment and that's great but all I can remember now is the feel of his mouth under mine. We'll go over the verbal declarations in the morning, But I think our bodies said it better than words ever will.

I could have zoned on the taste of him if I hadn't had so much for my other senses to deal with.

Those trips to the gym have been really good for him. I always thought he looked good, even when he didn't think so, but now he's just... beautiful. There's no other word that describes him. He's let his hair grow back, I think it's even longer than it was before the academy. And it felt so good to run my fingers through it as I explored that wonderful mouth.

I could never be content to stop at just Kissing him; It didn't take me long to discover that the curls on his chest are just a soft. And then I couldn't stop exploring.

The skin on his lower back is unbelievably soft. I could feel the slight heat of the bruises and when I pushed the towel off his hips and slid my hands down I could feel the bruises there too. When I pulled him against me he made the most amazing sound of pleasure I have ever heard and threw his head back.

I discovered something wonderful today. I can make Blair Sandburg cum by giving him a hickey. And it's a amazing feeling. Just the sent of him is enough to push me over the edge.

I'm not sure how we got to the bed, but I had to do something to repay him for jumping in front of a gun for me, So I kissed every bruise I could find. I know I didn't miss any, I took great care to find ever one. Blair accused me of being a romantic fool, but I don't think he was complaining.

He certainly wasn't complaining when I started on the bits that weren't bruised.

He lost the capacity for coherent speech when I reached his chest, I think coherent thought went somewhere around his left hip. As much as I love to hear him talk, making Blair moan and whimpering is my new favorite thing to do.

I remember thinking that I had been wrong earlier in the evening, Blair's mouth was only the second best thing I had ever tasted. I wonder if I'll have to revise that again when we get our breath back. There are so many more things I want to do to him.

Hmmmm, he's awake at last. Maybe he'd like to try a little experiment.

Oh, yeah. I think he's got some experiments of his own planned, and this is so much better than sensory tests.

Oh, Oh god, yes

Blair doesn't just want me physically, although that kind of wanting is soooo good. Blair Sandburg wants all of me. He loves me
I love Blair

Sometimes we get exactly what we wanted.

End, What we want, and what we get