Soul Quest

by Natalie L

"...[T]here's Elves and Elves. They're all elvish enough, but they're not all the same." Sam Gamgee; J.R.R. Tolkien's Lord of the Rings

The soft wind blew around him, sighing through the tall evergreens. Water from a nearby lake lapped quietly at its banks. The peace of this place was a balm to weary senses.

The sound of rustling and a struggle came from behind him, followed by a curse. "Damn! Hey, Jim! You going to help here or not?" Simon Banks was wrestling their camping equipment from the back of the truck. It appeared to be a losing battle.

Jim hustled over, helping to lift the large four-person tent from the pickup's bed. "Tell me again why we needed such a large tent?" Jim asked.

"Because, if you have to know, I like my privacy," Simon growled.

Jim chuckled. "Not much chance of that on a camping trip. This looks like a good spot," he said after they had carried the tent about forty feet from the truck.

"Yeah. We'll set up here, get a good fire going, and then see if there's any fish in that lake." Simon began to spread the tent out, securing the poles and, with Jim's help, managed to get it set up in under half an hour's time.

By late afternoon, the camp was set and the two men headed to the lake with their fishing gear. Walking to the end of a long pier, they cast their lines into the water.

"This is just what I needed, Simon," Jim confessed. "I was afraid I was going crazy with my senses spiking on me back in Cascade. Out here, it all seems easier to manage."

"Not so many things to stimulate the senses as in the city," Simon pointed out.

Jim nodded his agreement as he felt a tug at his line. "I think I got one!" He began to carefully reel in his catch. Simon was ready with the net.

"Ah ... a nice big one," Simon approved. "That will make a good dinner."

"Let's see you get one now," Jim prodded. "I'm hungry. I could eat that one all by myself." He chuckled at Simon's look of disgust.

"You know, Jim ... you really shouldn't tease your boss about food."

"You're not my boss when we're camping," Jim hastened to point out. "Hey, look!" He pointed to the twitching end of Simon's line. The big captain reeled in an even larger fish than his detective, and turned a self-satisfied grin on the man.

"I'm hungry, too! Let's go cook us some trout!"

~oO0Oo~

After an all-you-can-eat dinner of trout and beans, followed by beers and a cigar for Simon, the two men turned in for the night.

"Sleep well, Jim." Simon snuggled down into his sleeping bag, his back toward his tent-mate.

"I think I will, for a change," Jim replied, soothed by the quiet night sounds of the woods and lake. "You, too." He closed his eyes to the sound of crickets and the wind.

The next morning found Simon up early, cooking eggs and ham over a crackling fire. When Jim finally crawled from the tent, the captain smiled.

"I was wondering whether or not I was going to have to share with you this morning." He shoveled the scrambled eggs and ham slices onto two plates, handing one to Jim. "Here you go. Eat hearty!"

"Mmmm. This is good, Simon," Jim said between mouthfuls. "You going to do more fishing today?"

"That's what I came up here for." Simon grinned.

"If you don't mind, I'd kind of like to get away for a while. You know, a little quiet time to commune with nature. See if I can't get these senses back under control."

"I thought you had them back under control." Simon looked at his friend with concern.

Jim shook his head. "Not really. I'm doing better out here. Less to focus on, like you said, but I don't really have control yet. Simon, if I can't get a handle on this, I'm going to go insane!"

"Don't you think you're overstating the case just a bit, Jim?" Simon asked. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

"You have no idea." Jim sighed. "Sounds assault me everywhere I go. I hear every conversation, every dropped pencil, every car door, siren ... and sight.... One minute I'm reading a report, the next I'm checking out something three blocks away, or counting dust particles on my desk. My taste buds are off the map. For the most part I have to stick to pretty bland foods. Nothing spicy. I smell everything from your cigars to the brand of coffee you're drinking. I can tell who showered this morning, and who didn't...."

"That's okay," Simon said, holding up his hands to stop the flood of words. "I think I'm getting the picture. You're overwhelmed by your senses."

"Yes. I just need to be alone for a while. Nothing personal, Simon."

"No, no.... I understand." Simon nodded. "You go ahead. I'll clean up here."

"Thanks." Jim rose to his feet and headed toward the woods.

~oO0Oo~

Jim had been wandering the old growth forest for over an hour, drinking in the silence and the scent of green, living things, when he heard the cry. The sound pierced the quiet, startling the detective.

Turning to his left, he ran toward the sound. The scream had been neither animal nor human, but unearthly and filled with pain. He stumbled into a small clearing, his sight taking in a strange tableau.

Two men were facing off. The larger stood at the far end of the glade, crossbow in hand pointed at the other occupant of the small clearing, who lay on the ground opposite the hunter. This man was smaller, but no less imposing in his own way. Despite the wicked shaft that protruded from his shoulder, his gaze was filled with malice for the other man.

"What's going on here?" Jim demanded, kneeling by the injured man, his medic's training taking over as he examined the wound. The arrow had pierced the man's shoulder from front to back. The barbed head of the arrow on the one end, and the fletching on the other, prevented Jim from pulling it out in either direction.

The larger man growled. "He spoiled my shot. I had a four-point buck in my sights and he scared him off."

"That's no reason to shoot him!" Jim shouted, anger growing by the minute.

"Their kind don't deserve to live, anyway. Better for us all if it just dies." The man spat in the direction of his fallen prey, and turned to stalk back into the trees.

"Wait!" Jim called, starting to stand and follow. A hand reached up to pull him back.

"Stay." The voice was soft, deeper than Jim had expected, and musical. He turned back to his patient and found two deep blue eyes watching him with curiosity and wonder. "Help me?"

Jim had to uncurl strong fingers from the arrow's shaft before he could examine the wound more closely. The man's long hair was getting in the way, so he gently brushed it aside. What he saw made him pause. Extending back from a strong, square jaw, nestled in the dark strands of hair, one ear was exposed, sweeping back to a graceful point, two rings of silver dangling from the lobe.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What are you? That man spoke as though you were other than human."

"My name is B'layr. I-I," he stuttered and paused as Jim wiggled the shaft experimentally. Biting his lip against the pain, B'layr allowed a tiny hiss to escape. "I am an elf." The admission was too quiet for ordinary ears to hear.

"My name's Jim, Jim Ellison. Sorry we had to meet this way." He paused briefly. "I'm not going to be able to pull this out the way it is," he informed his patient. "I'm going to have to cut through the shaft." He dug through his pockets until he found his Swiss army knife. He opened it to the saw blade and placed it against the arrow, near where it entered B'layr's shoulder. "This is going to hurt. Ready?" B'layr clenched his teeth and nodded. Jim gripped the shaft as tightly as he could to prevent it from moving more than was absolutely necessary. As he began to saw, he looked into the pain-filled blue eyes. "Elf, eh? I thought elves were only legends and myths."

"No," B'layr gasped, trying to concentrate on the conversation, and not the pain. "We are real. Not many men know of our existence."

"That hunter sure did," Jim said grimly.

B'layr nodded. "Yes. Some of the hunters know of us. We protect the forest and its inhabitants. Most of the time, we manage unnoticed, but I was not being careful."

"Why not?" Jim finished cutting through the shaft and threw the feathered end of the arrow into the ferns with all his strength. "This is really going to hurt," he informed B'layr, turning the elf on his side so that he could get a grip on the arrow's shaft just above the head. "I'm going to pull it out on the count of three. One ... two..." He pulled the arrow suddenly, before the three-count ... before his patient could tense.

"Ahhhh!" B'layr's gasp of surprise and pain echoed through the forest.

Jim pulled back the layers of clothing to reveal the pale flesh, bleeding profusely now that the arrow was gone. "You didn't tell me why you weren't being so careful this time," Jim reminded him, using torn pieces of his T-shirt to clean and bind the wound.

"I am on Quest," B'layr replied.

"Quest?" Jim looked puzzled. "Can you walk?" He took the elf by his uninjured arm and pulled him to his feet, surprised to find the creature was no more than six inches shorter than he was. He laid the uninjured arm across his shoulders, and wrapped his arm around the slender waist.

B'layr took a few unsteady steps and then seemed to find some hidden reserve of strength. "When an elf comes into his sexual maturity," he explained, "he goes out on a quest to find his mate—the other half of his soul."

"And how does he know when he's found this soulmate?" Jim asked.

"Where are you taking me?" B'layr paused, refusing to go further until he got his answer.

"To my camp. I've got antibiotics and bandages there. I can treat your wound better."

B'layr took a step and they started off again. "Oh, one just knows," he said, picking up the thread of the previous conversation. "There is a connection, a bond. Each feels the pull of the other."

"And you were out on this quest. A quest to find your wife?"

"No. A quest to find my mate."

B'layr's blue eyes connected once more with the detective's, and Jim felt an odd pull. He would protect this child of the forest, if it meant giving his own life to do so. Where did that come from? he wondered.

They walked on again in silence, until B'layr finally stopped and sank to the ground, leaning against a tall evergreen. "Must rest."

Jim squatted down beside him and looked up through the canopy of trees to the dim light filtering down. "It's getting late, and we still have a half an hour's walk ahead of us."

B'layr shook his head. "Not now. Rest." He patted the ground next to himself, and Jim settled down, leaning against the tree trunk. Pulling a small pouch out of his pocket, B'layr took a pinch of what looked like dried leaves and twigs, and put it in his mouth.

"What's that?" Jim asked, curious.

"Medicine. It dulls the pain and thickens the blood."

"It helps the wound to clot?" Jim reached for the pouch, and B'layr handed it to him. He sniffed at the herbal concoction. "What's in it?"

"Plants of the forest. I can show you sometime," B'layr offered.

Jim sniffed again, trying to separate out the various scents. Sometime later, he felt the warmth of a hand on his arm, rubbing, and a compelling voice calling to him.

"Jim. Jim, listen to me. You need to come back. Hear my voice. Come back to me."

Jim blinked, and turned to see the concerned face of the elf very close to his own. "I zoned, didn't I?"

"You walked a separate plane of existence, but you are back. You are a Sentry, are you not?" B'layr studied the man next to him.

"Sentry?" Jim shook his head slightly. "I have heightened senses, and sometimes, when I concentrate too much on just one, I lose touch with the world. I came to the forest to ease the sensory input."

"I can help you," B'layr told him. "You must learn control. If you master your senses, they cannot master you."

"I've dreamed of being able to control my senses," Jim mused. "But how? How can anyone do more than learn to live with it?"

"It is not so difficult," B'layr said. "Close your eyes." Jim did as he was instructed, feeling almost compelled to do as this voice bid. "Now, picture in your mind a gentle breeze, a breath of air that barely stirs your hair." He watched as Jim's face relaxed. "Good. Now feel the breeze stiffen. It is still light, but cools you in the heat of day. It strengthens, until it whips at your clothing and stings your skin. And more ... the storm is building, and the wind shakes even the tallest of the trees." Jim's face showed signs of strain. "You can no longer fight. The storm is at its peak. The wind's strength is nearly enough to knock you off your feet. Now," B'layr continued, his voice softening, "turn the wind down. Back to the strong breeze, back to the zephyr, until all is calm."

Jim nodded and opened his eyes. "I could picture that." He smiled.

"Yes!" B'layr nodded, enthusiastically. "Now, apply that to your senses. Just concentrate. You can turn each up and down as needed."

Jim looked out into the forest, seeing the trees, then the birds, then the insects the birds fed upon; smaller and smaller, until finally he had to turn back, bringing his sight to within normal parameters. "Wow. That really works!"

"Sentries are rare and valued among the elves. They protect the tribe, tell us of changes in the weather, of the comings and goings of men through the forest and of the beasts they hunt." B'layr smiled. "We have not seen the Gift for centuries. You would be welcome among us."

Again, Jim felt a tug in his mind—a desire to go with this forest creature and live among his kind. He shook his head, dispelling the strange compulsion.

The light was growing dim. Jim stood and reached a hand down to help B'layr to his feet. "We've spent too much time resting. We'll have to hurry if we're going to get back to my camp before dark."

Jim wrapped an arm around B'layr's waist once more, and started off. B'layr didn't budge.

"Someone is coming," the elf announced, moving to conceal himself behind some brush.

Cocking his head, Jim listened. "It's Simon. He's my friend. We came camping together." He reached into the bushes and pulled B'layr out. "It's okay. He won't hurt you." Raising his voice, he called out, "Hey, Simon! Over here!"

The footsteps became more pronounced, and soon the tall black man appeared around a bend in the path. Jim heard a soft intake of breath, and felt B'layr slide behind his back, peeking out at the approaching giant.

"Where the hell have you been?" Simon bellowed. "I came in from spending the day fishing, and you still weren't back. I got worried."

"I ran into a little situation that needed my attention," Jim explained.

"Would your friend there be a part of that situation?" Simon grinned at Jim's shy companion.

"This is B'layr," Jim said, stepping to one side and pulling the elf against him. "I found him injured by a hunter's arrow. I was bringing him back to camp to treat the wound."

"Hello, B'layr. My name is Simon Banks." Simon reached out a hand for a friendly shake, but B'layr pulled back once more.

"He's a little distrustful right now," Jim told his captain.

Simon studied the younger man. "Looks kind of pale."

"He's lost a lot of blood."

"You up to a long walk back?" Simon asked the young man.

"I can walk," B'layr declared, taking half a dozen steps before sinking to the ground. Looking up at Jim with plaintive eyes, he sighed. "I am sorry."

"Not a problem," Simon declared, walking over to where the young man sat on the ground and scooping him up in his arms.

At B'layr's panicked look, Jim hastened over, stroking him with gentle hands. "It's all right. Simon's a friend. He'll carry you back to camp."

B'layr nodded, and wrapped trusting arms around Simon's neck. Letting his head fall back, he watched as Jim followed, slightly behind and to one side.

Simon looked down at his burden, whose hair had fallen away from his face when his head had tipped back. Eyes the color of the lake's water at high noon were locked on Jim. But what captured Simon's attention was the graceful sweep of the ears to delicate points. "What the...?" He looked up at Jim.

"He's an elf, Simon," Jim explained.

"An elf." The statement was one of flat disbelief. "Elves are fairy stories, told to entertain children."

"We are not fairy folk!" B'layr protested, lifting his head to get a better look at his bearer. "And we are not stories, either."

"It came as a surprise to me, too, Simon, but he is what he is." Jim shrugged.

"Well, we'll see about that later," Simon said. "First we have to get him back to camp." He heard a soft sigh, and felt the body in his arms shudder. B'layr curled in on himself, resting his head against Simon's broad chest and closing his eyes. "I think we'd better hurry." Simon lengthened his strides, as Jim hustled to keep up.

They arrived back at the camp just before dusk. Jim hurried over to the tent and unzipped the door. "Let's put him in my sleeping bag, for now," he suggested.

Simon ducked through the door and laid his burden on the down-filled bag. As Jim began to strip the layers of clothing away from the wound, Simon turned to go out.

"I'll start some supper. Got lucky and caught three big ones today." He grinned as he headed out to tend the fire and prepare the fish.

Jim had finally disposed of the last shirt covering the wound. B'layr was asleep, or unconscious, so Jim took a moment to study his patient. B'layr's chest was broad and well proportioned. There was strength hidden beneath the sculpted lines. Springy dark hair covered the expanse from collarbone to just below the nipples, then arrowed down the sleek abdomen to disappear within the waistband of B'layr's breeches. The nipples were a rosy brown, and stood at peaked attention from the thatch of hair. Almost of its own volition, his hand dusted across B'layr's chest, registering the softness of the hair in contrast to the hardness of the nipples jutting from it.

It took an act of will to pull back from the sensory feast and get on with his business. Tugging the first aid kit over to him, Jim rummaged through it for the antiseptic and bandages, and began to clean the wound. When he had finished, he found himself reluctant to leave.

He smoothed back the hair from B'layr's face, and drank in the beauty. A strong, square jaw was home to the ripest pair of lips Jim had ever seen: full and red, they were parted slightly, looking sensuous and inviting. The delicate sweep of a slightly upturned nose accented the high cheekbones. Long, dark lashes brushed against the pale cheeks, the lids concealing eyes of a most startling shade of blue. The gentle sweep of the upturned ears completed the otherworldly beauty of the man that lay beneath him.

Suddenly, Jim felt a need to see all of this compelling creature. He tugged at the breeches, pulling them off and tossing them on the pile with the rest of B'layr's clothing. His eyes slid up the strongly muscled legs to settle guiltily on the elf's genitals. He was relieved to see nothing out of the ordinary. On the contrary, B'layr was well endowed.

Flushing at his voyeurism, Jim pulled the flap of the sleeping bag over the naked body, zipping it shut. What had come over him? He had never shown an interest in another man before. What spell, what magic, had this elfin sprite cast on him? He shook his head to clear it, and turned his back on the tent's occupant, crawling out to join Simon.

"How is he?" Simon asked, turning his attention from the frying pan on the fire.

"I cleaned the wound. He's sleeping," Jim answered cryptically.

Simon eyed his friend. There was something more that Jim wasn't saying, but this was not the time to pry. "Hungry?"

"Famished!" Jim said, holding out his plate.

"Think you should go wake up B'layr so he can join us?" Simon asked between bites of the succulent trout.

"No," Jim hedged. "He needs his rest. We can save some for when he wakes up."

Simon shrugged and went on eating. "How are you doing? You look refreshed from your day in the forest."

"It's the most incredible thing!" Jim said, lighting up at the thought. "B'layr showed me a way to control my senses. It's going to take some work, but I think I've got a handle on it now." His grin was infectious.

"That's great, Jim!" Simon grinned back. "I've been really worried about you these past few weeks since your senses started spiking out of control."

"B'layr calls me a 'Sentry'. He says we're rare and valued in his community. That means I'm not a freak, Simon. There are more out there like me. Somewhere." Jim set down his empty plate and took a long swallow from his bottle of beer.

"Jim...." Simon looked at his friend with concern. "Please don't tell me you're considering running off to live with elves. Somehow I just can't picture you running naked through the woods."

"B'layr wasn't naked when I found him," Jim reminded him, slightly affronted and embarrassed by his captain's statement. "And, no, I don't plan on running off to live with the elves. Whatever made you think that?"

"Call me stupid, but it seems there's a connection between the two of you. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's almost like you belong together." Simon stared into the fire, chewing on the end of his cigar.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Jim was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. "He's an elf, I'm a man. He's a male elf at that. What kind of connection can there be?"

"I just call 'em as I see 'em," Simon mused, turning to peer at his friend. "Are you sharing a sleeping bag with him tonight?"

Jim grew suddenly thoughtful, aware of the lithe, naked body of his bag's current occupant. "I suppose I'm going to have to. Good thing it's a double."

"And just why do you have a double-occupancy sleeping bag, anyway?" Simon asked, amused.

"I bought it back when Carolyn and I were first married," Jim explained. "How was I to know she'd refuse to go camping with me?"

"Most men would know that sort of thing before they got married." Simon chuckled.

"Maybe that's why we got a divorce," Jim suggested. "At any rate, I haven't had much of an opportunity to camp, so I never bothered to buy a single."

"Lucky for you. Well," Simon said, standing and stretching, "it's been a long day. I think I'm going to turn in."

"Good night, Simon." Jim watched his captain head for the tent, before turning to stare back into the flickering flames.

The ordeal of the day began to catch up with Jim after about a half an hour's quiet contemplation. Stretching, he tended the fire, and then turned toward the tent. Once inside, he stripped down to his boxer shorts and unzipped his sleeping bag, being as quiet as he could so as not to wake its occupant or his captain.

He slid into the warmth, zipping the bag shut. He was currently facing B'layr, so he took the opportunity to watch him as he slept. He looked almost child-like in sleep, and Jim wondered just how old the elf actually was.

As he lay there contemplating, B'layr rolled over, snuggling up against him. Jim was startled when an arm and leg wrapped around him, and B'layr buried his face in the juncture of Jim's neck and shoulder. There were some snuffling sounds as the elf settled himself, then Jim felt the unmistakable sensation of being licked and kissed. His body went rigid and he stared down at his bedmate.

"What are you doing?" Jim hissed quietly, pulling back.

B'layr opened his eyes and looked up at Jim. "I found you," he said simply.

"What do you mean, you found me? I was the one who found you in the woods."

"Do you not feel it?" B'layr asked, petting the smooth skin of Jim's chest.

Jim captured the roving hand, holding it still. "I'm feeling more than I was expecting to," he admitted. "Just to what are you referring?"

"The soul-bond. Do you not feel it?" B'layr's gaze was open and guileless. "I felt the pull as soon as you stepped into the glade. You are my soulmate. My Quest is complete."

"No." Jim shook his head in denial. "I'm no elf. How can I be your soulmate?"

"It is unusual and rare," B'layr admitted, "but not unheard of. You are unusual and rare. Our meeting was no coincidence." He freed his hand and began stroking Jim's chest again. His hand brushed over a nipple, and he felt it harden under his touch. He bent down to take the tiny nub into his mouth, worrying it gently with his teeth.

"Stop that!" Jim hissed, trying to keep the volume down, so as not to disturb the tent's other occupant. B'layr let go, and in the cool night air, Jim found he missed the hot, moist lips on his chest.

"You cannot deny it," B'layr insisted. "We were meant to be together."

"Yes, I can. I do deny it," Jim said in no uncertain terms. "I'm not gay or bi; I don't fall in love with men."

"I am not a man." B'layr's eyes danced with laughter.

"That doesn't matter. You're ... you're ... you look like a man. You've got all the equipment.... I can't—I just can't get past that." Jim shook his head, trying to clear the traitorous thoughts.

"Do I not please you?" B'layr pouted. "Am I that horribly ugly in your sight?" He pulled away, as far as the confines of the sleeping bag would allow.

"No, no, it isn't that at all!" Jim protested, finding himself reaching for the elf and pulling him back. "I do feel something for you—an odd attraction I can't deny. This feels right, and yet my mind is screaming that it's all wrong!"

"Then listen with your heart," B'layr insisted, "because it tells you true." He reached a hand down between them and stroked the hard column of Jim's erect penis through the soft cotton of his boxers. "Your body knows. Let your mind follow." He emphasized his point by leaning in and capturing Jim's lips in a kiss.

Instead of pulling back, as he would have expected, Jim found himself pressing into the kiss. A seeking tongue, whose taste exploded across his own, nearly causing a sensory zone-out, invaded his mouth. Quiet words, a low voice, the soft stroking of his arm—B'layr brought him back from the edge. "We are one."

"One," Jim repeated, diving back to recapture the full lips. He peppered his kisses down the lean body, worrying the erect nipples with lips and teeth, nipping and tasting his way down the line of hair. He followed the path to his goal: the weeping cock-head of his mate. His mate. Jim was unsure of just when he had accepted that fact, but now even his mind was convinced that he had found the missing part of his soul. He opened his mouth to receive the leaking offering, and was startled by a voice behind him.

"I give up. I don't want to know." Simon crawled out of his sleeping bag. "You can explain this to me in the warm light of day, Jim, but for now, I think I'll just go take a walk."

"Simon!" Jim rolled over in his sleeping bag to face the captain. "It's not what you think."

"I wasn't born yesterday, Detective. It's exactly what I think, and you will explain it to me in the morning. For now, I'm leaving." He exited the tent and zipped the door closed behind him.

"Well, that's just great," Jim grumbled. His arousal was severely dampened by the interruption.

He felt hands tugging at the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down his legs. A warm hand wrapped itself around his flagging erection and began to stroke it gently back to life. "Do not mind him," B'layr crooned.

"Easy for you to say." But Jim felt himself responding all the same, and soon the memory of Simon's untimely interruption had faded to the back of his mind. He nuzzled into the long brown curls, drinking in the elf's musky scent.

"Take me." The request was simple and direct. B'layr turned in Jim's arms, presenting his backside. "It is time we seal the bond."

Jim hesitated. "I'm not prepared. I didn't bring any supplies: no lube, no condoms...."

He was answered by the squirming of a firm ass against his rigid cock. "Oh, God...." He took hold of the insistent hips, stilling them. "B'layr, your shoulder...."

"I am fine, Jim. Please, get on with it!" He tried in vain to impale himself on Jim's erection.

With a moan, Jim positioned himself and pushed inside, surprised at the ease with which B'layr's body accepted him. He began a gentle undulation, moving deep within the tight heat. His hand snaked over B'layr's hip to wrap strong fingers around the elf's rigid organ. He stroked in time with his thrusts, the smaller man rocking back in counterpoint, moaning his pleasure.

It was as though Jim could feel both his own pleasure, and that of his mate. He could feel himself pounding into the velvet heat, while at the same time felt strong fingers stroking his length; no, not his own—B'layr's. What an odd sensation. The double dose of stimulation sent the older man over the edge. He cried out as he emptied himself inside the tight channel. B'layr came moments later, howling as he spurted hot semen over Jim's hand.

B'layr rolled over to face Jim, a beatific smile on his face. "It is done." He snuggled against the warm body, wrapping himself around Jim like a living blanket.

Freeing one arm, Jim grabbed his T-shirt from the pile of clothing and wiped down B'layr's belly and his hand before settling back into the warm embrace. Feeling slightly unsettled for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, Jim asked, "What is done?"

B'layr opened sleepy eyes and looked at him. "We are mated—bonded for life."

Jim stroked the dark curls, petting the exotic creature in his arms. "I love you," he said, wonder in his voice. "How can this be? I love you."

"Do not question that which is," B'layr responded. "What is meant to be, will be. I love you, Jim."

~oO0Oo~

The next morning, Jim arose early, grabbing some clothes and heading to the lake for a short swim. He emerged from the cold water, shivering, but once more clean. He dried off quickly and got himself dressed. That was when he noticed Simon sitting by the fire. The man looked as though he had spent the whole night there.

As Jim approached the fire, Simon held out a plate of eggs. "After keeping me up all night, you owe me that explanation."

Jim glanced back toward the tent, where B'layr was just emerging. The elf was naked and unashamed. He walked boldly down to the lake, squatting in a few inches of water to begin washing himself. Once clean, he wandered over to the fire to get warm.

Simon tried hard not to stare. "Um, you hungry, B'layr?" It was difficult speaking to the elf while keeping his eyes averted.

Jim stared openly. Other than the slightly bloodstained bandage on his shoulder, B'layr looked none the worse for wear. Better, in fact. He nearly glowed. His cock stood full and proud against his stomach, and he stroked it absentmindedly.

"No, thank you," B'layr declined the offer. "I fed three days ago. I do not need to eat again."

"You haven't eaten in three days? B'layr, you have to keep up your strength, if you want that shoulder to heal," Jim insisted. He scooted over to where the elf was sitting, and peeled back the gauze covering the wound. What he found was an angry red scar, but the flesh had knit back together.

"We heal quickly, when treated properly." B'layr smiled at Jim, the gesture lighting up his face. "I have you to thank." He closed the short distance between them and kissed the waiting lips.

"You're welcome," Jim replied, pulling back from the kiss. His eyes strayed down to where B'layr continued to stroke himself, not the least bit self-conscious about the act. He reached out to still the hand, blushing as he looked up into the completely innocent eyes. "B'layr, could you, um ... could you please go get dressed? Elves may have no problem with casual nudity, but we do. I think you're upsetting Simon."

B'layr glanced over Jim's shoulder at the large man who sat studiously tending the fire. "I am sorry. I did not mean to cause any discomfort." He stood and took a step toward the tent.

Jim reached up to grab a hand and still his progress. "Why don't you see if you can find something for your breakfast? You really should eat something, and Simon and I need to talk."

"Understood. I will see you later, Jim."

Jim watched until the beautiful backside disappeared into the tent. He then turned to his camping companion. "You okay, Simon?"

"What was that all about?" Simon asked, finally looking up again. "Is he trying to flaunt your relationship or something?"

"No, I don't think it's anything like that," Jim answered. "I think it's probably as normal for an elf to go naked as it is to put on clothes. I don't think he even thought about it. It's obvious he doesn't know our customs any better than we know his."

"I'll accept that for now," Simon reluctantly agreed. "But now I want that explanation. What's gotten into you, Jim? I've never seen you even look at another man before, and you're fucking this guy within eighteen hours of meeting him!"

"I wish I understood it better myself," Jim admitted. "When I stumbled across B'layr in the woods, I felt an odd compulsion to protect him and tend to his wound. It was more than just the Good Samaritan routine, but I didn't recognize that at first.

"B'layr told me that it was the tradition of his people for elves reaching sexual maturity to go out alone on a quest to find their mate. That's what he was doing when I found him. Apparently, it made him a little less cautious than normal, and the hunter caught him.

"Anyway, the feeling seemed to grow as we traveled. During a rest stop, we were discussing my hyper senses, and he gave me a technique to turn them up or down at will." Jim grew animated at that thought. "He had me picture a breeze, Simon. He told me to see it as it grew slowly into an incredible storm, then back down to a zephyr. That worked so well, I tried it with my sight, and it worked! I know this is going to take some practice," Jim was leaning in toward Simon, gesticulating hands emphasizing his points, "but I really think it can work!"

"Good. That means I don't have to lose one of my best detectives to the funny farm," Simon agreed. "But we're getting off track here. I'm happy about your senses, but I want to know what happened last night."

"Ah, yes. Well," Jim continued, "there were a couple times I zoned, too—once on the walk back, and once in the tent. B'layr was able to pull me back with just a touch and a few words. It was incredible.

"When we got back to camp, I had to remove his shirts in order to clean and bandage the wound. I really can't explain what came over me, but I thought he was the most beautiful creature I'd ever laid eyes on. I had to see all of him, so I pulled his breeches off, too." Simon groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. "As you probably noticed," Jim pointed out mischievously, "he's well hung, with all the right equipment, and nothing extra."

"That doesn't explain why you had sex with him," Simon complained. "A man just doesn't turn gay at the drop of a hat. Please tell me you saw this coming."

"Not in the least," Jim replied, turning serious again. "I tried to deny it, but B'layr said we were soulmates, that the pull I felt when I was near him was my heart calling out to his. I didn't want to believe it, but he was so warm and pliant in my arms. He felt so good, so right, lying close beside me. His voice was like magic, casting a spell on my mind."

"That's it!" Simon sat up straighter. "He used some sort of magic on you! You weren't in your right mind."

"That may be the case," Jim admitted, "but I still feel the same way this morning. Whatever happened, I love him, Simon."

"No, no, no, no." Simon denied the words he'd just heard. "You can't be in love with him. It doesn't work that way."

"Haven't you ever heard of 'love at first sight'? I felt it, long before I acknowledged it. I want him; he completes me. That empty spot that even Carolyn couldn't touch is filled now. I don't know, Simon. I'm sorry. I can't explain it any better. It hit me like a freight train, and there's no going back."

Simon sighed. "Well, the fishing's going to have to wait today. I think I'll crawl back into the tent and see if I can't get a little sleep. Something tells me tonight isn't going to be any quieter than last night." He stood up, bone-weary and still confused, and headed toward the tent.

~oO0Oo~

"Is your friend okay with us?" B'layr asked, chewing on some green, leafy plant he held in his hand. He had returned from his foray about fifteen minutes after Simon had retired to the tent.

"Not really," Jim admitted. "But he'll accept it. That doesn't mean he's ever going to like it, though." He reached out to place a hand on B'layr's knee. "You know, our weekend is almost up. We'll have to head back to the city tomorrow."

The elf looked distressed at the news, pulling away from the comforting hand. "You cannot go now," he said petulantly.

"I have to. I've got a job and responsibilities back home. You'll come with me, of course."

"No." B'layr turned his back on Jim, so the man couldn't see his face.

"What do you mean, no? Of course you'll come. I love you. You said we were soulmates. I thought you loved me, too." Jim laid a hand on the slouched shoulder and turned B'layr back to face him, noting the tears staining his cheeks.

"I do love you," B'layr sniffled. "But why can you not come live with me in the forest? I will teach you our ways. You can be our tribe's Sentry. You would be honored and treated well."

Jim gathered the elf in his arms. "I don't doubt that for a minute," he said, "but despite the problems I've had with my senses, I need the stimulation of the city. I guess there's a part of me that doesn't want to give up the danger and excitement of my job. People depend on me. I can't just walk away." He placed a kiss on the dark curls. "Why can't you come live with me? I know it would take some getting used to, but I could take you to the movies, basketball games, theater, the opera.... You'd love it. I know you would."

Jim wrapped his arms tighter as he felt his mate shake his head, rejecting the offer. His shirt was getting damp from the tears shed silently by the grieving elf. Finally, he pulled back slightly, and tipped B'layr's head up. "I don't know how we're going to get past this impasse, but we'll figure something out. I love you."

"I had almost given up," B'layr admitted. "When you found me, I had almost given up my Quest. I had been out for thirty-seven risings of the sun. Usually the seeking does not take so long. I feared I would never find completion, and would have to go back to my tribe in shame. When you found me, my heart leapt for joy. Remember that I will always love you, Jim Ellison."

"That sounds suspiciously like a good-bye." Jim searched the eyes of his love for confirmation or denial of the statement. All he found was a fathomless blue looking back.

"Let us not spoil the day," the elf said, standing. Reaching down, B'layr took Jim's hand and began walking him toward the woods. "Let me teach you about my world."

The day was spent tramping the forest trails, seeking out healing plants and those suitable to eat. Despite his extensive survival training, Jim learned much from the forest dweller who walked by his side. As the sun began to set, they made their way back to the camp.

"I was wondering if I'd be seeing the two of you again," Simon commented as the pair walked into the circle of the campfire.

"B'layr was just showing me some of the edible plants in the area. We brought some home for dinner." He held out some gray-white tubers. "I'll get them washed. B'layr says they're good broiled over an open fire."

Simon patted the campstool next to him. "Sit yourself down, B'layr, while Jim does a little of the work around here."

The elf settled himself cautiously next to the tall black man. "You are not angry with me?" he asked, his voice low and worried.

"Angry with you?" Simon sounded perplexed. "Oh! For last night! No, child, I'm not angry with you. Jim explained your quest and the bonding thing. I guess I'm just getting a little too old to process all of the changes that seem to be happening all of a sudden. I'll get over it." He turned a brilliant white smile on the elf. "Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?"

"I will keep company with you," B'layr agreed, "but I do not desire to eat."

Jim arrived back from the lake with the washed tubers. Skewering them on long sticks, he hung them over the fire to roast. "Aw, come on. It's our last night in camp. Surely you'll join us. After all, the tubers were your contribution."

"You do not understand," B'layr began. "Elves eat little and process all that they consume. We do not waste precious food by eliminating it from our bodies. I have had all I can manage for a few days. Thank you."

"You don't ... I mean, you have..." Jim stuttered to a halt, unable to find a delicate way to say that they were similarly equipped down there.

B'layr smiled in understanding. "Ours is for reproduction only," he said with a grin.

The statement stunned the two men sitting next to him into silence. "Uh, okay," Jim finally said, wondering where that brilliant wisdom sprang from. He turned to tending to the tubers while Simon changed the subject and began waxing eloquent on his afternoon's fishing.

Once dinner was over, and the men felt more relaxed, Simon brought up another question that had been bothering him. "Mind my asking how old you are?"

B'layr looked up, turning toward his mate's friend. "I have seen fifty-one summers. In the reckoning of my people, I am still young, although no longer a youth."

"You're fifty-one?" Jim was startled by the revelation. "I'm thirty-nine. I'll be forty next month. I would have guessed you to be no more than twenty-five, tops."

"Our lifespans average one hundred fifty to two hundred summers," B'layr explained.

"I thought elves were immortal," Simon commented.

"Long-lived, yes," said B'layr, "but not immortal. We heal quickly, but can be killed. We are flesh, as you are flesh. We have mortality in common."

Jim sighed heavily at the serious tone the conversation had taken. He stood up, gathering the dishes to be washed. "You know," he said, "all that traipsing around the woods today tired me out. I think I'd like to turn in early tonight."

"I would like that, too," B'layr agreed, his eyes twinkling.

Simon just shook his head. "Good thing I napped till noon. Looks like I'm going to be up late again tonight." He chuckled.

~oO0Oo~

Once in the tent, B'layr stripped quickly. Stepping up to Jim, he began to disrobe his mate, while peppering kisses along his jaw and neckline. Jim allowed the elf to undress him and then gathered the lithe body close in his arms.

Burying his nose in the thick brown tresses, he breathed in the earthy scent of his lover. "You are so beautiful," he whispered into one pointed ear as his lips tugged at the silver rings piercing the lobe. "Beautiful." He kissed the tip of the ear he had been worrying, then moved on to temple, then jaw, then to the full, inviting lips that waited for him.

They sank to the ground together, wriggling into the protection of the sleeping bag. Jim drew B'layr close, feeling their hard cocks slide together as they melded into each other.

All arms and legs, B'layr's smaller body seemed to engulf Jim's larger one. The elf's desperate humping against him caused a sympathetic response in Jim. The heat and friction they were generating brought both to climax quickly, and they sank in a sweaty heap, twined together. Jim closed his eyes and was almost immediately wrapped in a contented sleep.

~oO0Oo~

Dawn tinted the sky, and the rising sun lit the tent with a warm, yellow glow. Jim stretched and turned over, flinging an arm out to wrap around his mate, and found ... nothing. His eyes flew open. "B'layr!" He threw off the sleeping bag and stood. Pulling on a pair of jeans, he bolted from the tent to see Simon standing on the pier, fishing.

"Simon! Have you seen B'layr?" Jim called out, still frantically searching around their camp.

"Nope. I haven't seen him since I crawled into bed last night. Looked like you two had had quite a workout. I didn't want to disturb you." Simon put down his pole and walked over to his friend. "Chances are, he's just taken a walk in the woods. He'll be back."

"I'm not so sure, Simon. He knew we were leaving today, and he told me he couldn't come with us. I'm afraid he may have slipped off, not wanting to have to say good-bye."

"He wouldn't do that. I saw the way he looked at you. He worships you, Jim." Simon rested a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "How about a little fishing before we have to break camp?"

Jim grudgingly agreed, hoping against hope that the delay would give B'layr time to return. They caught enough for a hearty breakfast, and then began packing for the trip home. As Jim shook out his sleeping bag, a small, shiny object fell out, catching his eye. He leaned down to pick it up. A pale green stone, the color of a new leaf in spring, was set in a delicate gold ring. As Jim examined the jewel, he heard a whisper in his mind: Remember me. He slipped the ring onto his left hand, surprised that it fit his finger perfectly. "B'layr." The name was a whisper on his lips. His soulmate was gone, returned to his people, and Jim was alone again.

Nine Months later:

B'layr stood at the edge of the city, hesitating. His right hand rested on the prominent bulge of his abdomen. He was entering his fourth quarter, and the impulse to find his soulmate was strengthening with each passing day. If he could not find his other half, he knew with certainty that he would die in childbirth. He stepped out onto the road and began his slow walk into the heart of the foreign land.

~oO0Oo~

Jim stood out in the cold March rain, looking down on the body of their fourth murder victim. Simon stepped up beside him. "Forensics isn't going to be able to retrieve any evidence with all this rain," he sighed. "Any chance you can find something they can't?"

Jim knelt beside the victim, scanning him by sight, scent and touch. "This bruising around the neck," he said, pulling down the collar so Simon could see. "I can feel faint imprints of fingers in the flesh. Forensics had better get here in a hurry, though. I'm not sure they can lift anything as it is."

"It's a start," Simon nodded approvingly. The captain looked up to see his detective staring at the wet, gray horizon. "What is it, Jim? Do you see something?"

"No..." Jim breathed. "Feel something."

"What? Our perp? Jim, what's going on?" Simon was beginning to get upset at the strange look that had come over his friend's face.

I am coming.

Jim shook himself out of his trancelike state. "No, not our perp. Sorry."

"Jim ... please tell me you're not still thinking about B'layr. I thought you'd gotten over him."

"He's out there, Simon." Jim stared his captain down. "He's coming for me." He glanced at the ring on his finger. "Something has overcome his fear of the city. He's on Quest again."

"How do you know this? Jim, come on, man, give it up. Did you ever think maybe we both dreamed him? I mean, elves ... really! They're creatures of fable and fairytales." Simon slapped Jim on the back and turned to go.

"Maybe he made you forget somehow, Simon. But I haven't forgotten. I've missed him more than I could ever have imagined. He gave me back my life; taught me to control and use my senses." Jim climbed into his truck and gunned the engine. "If he's out there, I'll find him."

~oO0Oo~

A car whizzed past, splashing water high onto the sidewalk, soaking the bent and shivering creature standing, lost, on the cold pavement.

B'layr wrapped his cloak more tightly around him, concealing the bulge of his pregnancy, and keeping him warmer. The dripping hood was next to useless. A siren sounded nearby, followed by the honking of horns. Frightened by the strange noises, B'layr ducked into a nearby alley, hoping to hide.

So much stone and metal and glass. Where was the green? Where were the living things? How would he find Jim in this endless, dead expanse of a city? B'layr had no answers. He only knew that he must go on, must find his soulmate no matter what. He stepped out of the alley and headed up the sidewalk.

Ahead, and across the street, B'layr noticed trees and brush gathered into a concentrated area, one of the city's large parks. He stepped out into the street, making for the only green he could see for miles. Cars whizzed past him, drivers honking their horns in anger. He was almost across when a Mercedes came around the corner at excessive speed, knocking him into the gutter.

He landed with splash on the hard pavement, surrounded by the swirling, dirty water making its way to the storm drain. Dazed, he pulled himself up onto the green lawn of the park. Lying down beneath the nearest tree, he curled up in his misery. Find me, Jim!

~oO0Oo~

The voice echoed in his mind: weary, hurt and frightened. Find me, Jim! He made a hard left turn, cutting across two lanes of traffic and nearly causing an accident. Not knowing precisely why, he was headed for Holden Park, in central Cascade.

He pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of the truck. Opening his senses to the maximum, he looked, listened, scented, and tasted the air—searching for the one person who completed him. Near the street, under a large oak tree, he spotted a dark shape. Walking over, he knelt beside the cloaked body, pulling back the saturated hood.

"B'layr!" Jim's shout of joy did not immediately rouse the unconscious elf. "My God, B'layr! I've found you!" He pulled the chilled body into his arms, welcoming back the other half of his soul.

B'layr opened his eyes. "Jim?" He reached up one cold, damp hand to rest against the detective's cheek. "How did you find me?"

"I could hear you call for me. I could feel your presence," Jim tried to explain. "I don't really know how. I just know that somehow I knew you were near and that I had to find you. Can you stand?" He took B'layr by the elbow and helped lift him to his feet.

The wet cloak clung to the gravid profile of the elf as he leaned against Jim to help steady himself. "B'layr?" Jim rested a hand on the swollen belly. "What's this?"

The elf actually laughed. "It is your child, Jim. I have come back to find you, to be with you, for the birth."

"But, but.... This can't be possible. B'layr, you're a man!"

"I am an elf, Jim. This is the way of things among my people. I was on Quest to find my mate."

"Like a bitch in heat?" Jim marveled, wondering what else this incredibly complex person was going to throw his way.

"A bitch in heat?" B'layr looked questioningly at his mate.

Jim had the decency to blush. It had not been a complimentary comment. "Ah, a female dog when it comes into its mating cycle. All the male dogs can smell ... well, you get the idea."

B'layr chuckled. "It is something like that, yes. I suppose I was 'in heat', as you put it. I had matured sexually, and it was time for me to bear a child, but I could not take just any mate. The father had to be my missing half, or conception could not take place."

"We only had penetrative sex once. Once! And then, that was..."

"Up my ass?" B'layr grinned. "Yes, I catch on quickly, Jim. But I told you, our systems are for reproduction only."

"Did you know you were pregnant when you left that morning?" Jim accused.

B'layr hung his head. "Yes. I knew that very first night. I could feel the fertilization take place, and the embryo implant itself."

"That's impossible!" But in his heart, Jim knew B'layr told the truth. His hand pressed against the swollen belly and he marveled. "We'd better get you home and dried off." He wrapped an arm around B'layr's waist and helped him to the truck.

~oO0Oo~

"Why did you leave like that? In the middle of the night?" Jim asked after he'd shown B'layr how to use the shower and had let the elf bathe and wrap himself in Jim's oversized white terry robe. They were seated side-by-side on the couch; B'layr snuggled deeply into his mate's embrace.

"It was the hardest thing I have ever done. It broke my heart," B'layr admitted. "But you would not come with me, and I could not go with you." He tilted his head up to look Jim in the eyes. "How can you live in such a dead place? There is nothing living here, except the people. It is no wonder you have so much violence and crime. Your people do not understand how to live in harmony with the natural order. You try to force your own order on the universe, and the universe rebels."

"I've never looked at it quite that way," Jim mused, smiling down into the blue eyes that studied his so intently. Then his face clouded. "When I discovered you gone, I was frantic," he confessed. "Simon assured me you'd be back, but you never came. After we got home, I found I couldn't concentrate on anything. Simon had to give me a medical leave of absence. I actually sought counseling." He clasped B'layr's hand, holding it to his chest. The soft green jewel sparkled as the sun caught the facets.

"You still wear it," B'layr whispered.

"It was all I had of you. It kept my hopes alive," Jim admitted.

"That ring was given by my Bearer to my Sire, just as I gave it to you." B'layr's fingers stroked the gem. "And as you will pass it on to our son, when the time is right."

"Our son...." Jim moved his hand to part the robe and stroked the bare skin of B'layr's swollen belly. "How much longer? You look like he could come any day now."

"Nearly another three moons will pass before I give birth," B'layr told him. "But I needed to be with you during this time. The fourth quarter is the most difficult time for the Bearer. I will need your strength to see this through to the end."

"Anything you need. Just ask." Jim bent down to place a kiss on the protruding belly button, then laid an ear against the taut skin. "I can hear his heartbeat ... and yours."

"I am hoping he will be a Sentry, like his father," B'layr said wistfully. He petted the soft, short hair on Jim's head. "I am sorry."

"For what?" Absorbed with listening to his child, Jim had lost track of their former conversation.

"For the pain you suffered when I left," B'layr confessed. "You had put up so much fuss over the bond, I had hoped the separation would affect you less. I was wrong, and I am very sorry."

"But you're back now, and you're going to stay." Jim continued to stroke the rounded belly as he sat back up, pulling his love close.

B'layr hung his head, watching the hypnotic movements of Jim's hand across his skin. "I cannot make promises when I know not what the future holds," he whispered. "But I am here now, and I love you, Jim Ellison." He lifted his head, and cupping Jim's cheek with one hand, he leaned to kiss his mate.

That kiss burned away the last of the loneliness, filling the empty spaces in Jim's heart. For now, he was willing to forgive past indiscretions and cryptic comments. His soul was whole again, and that was all that mattered.

The phone rang, interrupting the passionate reunion. B'layr shrank back at the shrill sound, but Jim wrapped him in a reassuring embrace as he picked up the receiver. "Ellison."

"Hey, Jim," Simon greeted from the other end of the connection. "Glad I caught you at home. I need you back down at the station to help verify some evidence in that serial killer case we're handling."

"Can it wait, Simon? I found B'layr," he informed his captain, kissing the tip of the elf's nose for emphasis.

"This won't take long, but the Assistant DA is here, and we really need your statement."

"Simon, there's something I have to tell you," Jim began.

"Tell me when you get here." Simon hung up the phone.

Jim sighed and placed the receiver back in the cradle. "That was Simon. He needs me down at the Department."

"I will be fine," B'layr comforted him. "Go do what you must, but come home to me. I need you."

"I won't be long. Promise." Jim stood and leaned down for one, last sweet kiss. "Why don't you just lie down and rest? I'll introduce you to some of our modern conveniences when I get home."

B'layr watched with luminous eyes as Jim slipped on his coat and reluctantly closed the door behind himself. With a sigh, he pushed up off the couch, and went in search of his sodden clothing.

~oO0Oo~

"What is it, Simon?" Jim blew into the station like a hurricane-force gale.

Simon eyed his detective with caution. It wouldn't be easy keeping Jim here long, not if his precious B'layr had returned. "We need you to make a statement and sign some papers."

"Is that all? Couldn't it have waited until morning?"

"Jim," Simon growled, his tone brooking no argument. "Your shift hasn't ended. I give you plenty of rope regarding personal business while on duty, but don't hang yourself with it. The ADA is here, and we need to get this done now."

"Could I see you in your office for a minute, Captain?" Jim took the bigger man by the elbow and steered him toward the door. Once inside, Simon turned on him.

"All right. What's up here, Jim? B'layr is back. I'm happy for you, but you still have a job to do."

"He's pregnant." Jim let the statement drop, squashing Simon's anger and turning it to confusion.

"He's what? I don't think I heard you right. I thought you said he's pregnant."

"Yes, sir. With my child. You know that first night in the tent...."

"Yes, yes," Simon interrupted. "I remember that night all too well. You're telling me you knocked up this elf in one session?"

"Apparently, sir. He was, um, at the peak of his mating cycle and looking for someone to father his child."

"And he chose you?" Simon was circling Jim now, studying his detective from all angles, as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns and a tail. "Why you, for God's sake? Just because you were convenient?"

"No, sir. He wasn't lying about the bonding, about the soulmating. I explained to you how he filled all those empty places inside me. Apparently, I did the same for him."

"Apparently," Simon replied dryly. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"He's still got another three months before the baby is born. He said he needed to be near me when he gave birth, or he'd die." Jim began to pace the room, putting some distance between himself and his captain. "Frankly, sir, I don't know what to do with him. How can I explain an elf, particularly a pregnant elf? I don't want him getting hurt, Simon, but I can't keep him locked in the loft for three months, either. Can I?" He stopped his pacing to turn toward his mentor and friend.

"I'm in no position to advise you on this one, Jim," Simon said, suddenly feeling tired and old. "Maybe you should let B'layr guide you. He's the only one who can tell you what's comfortable to him, and what's not."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Jim sighed and made for the office door. "I guess I'd better get that statement over with, so I can go home and take care of him."

~oO0Oo~

As Jim walked down the hallway to his apartment door, he could hear singing: clear and sweet, in a language he didn't understand. Opening the door, he found B'layr standing over the dining table, totally nude, spreading some sort of greenery in a single layer over the top.

As soon as B'layr noticed him, the singing stopped. He turned to greet his returning love. "Welcome home, my heart." He spread his arms in greeting.

Jim was stunned to silence by the beauty before him. He wondered if he'd ever get used to B'layr's casual comfort with nudity. He hoped, in a way, he never would. The shock went straight to his groin, awakening the quiescent organ. B'layr glowed. Jim now knew exactly what was meant by that phrase when used to describe pregnant women. B'layr's pale body was flushed a healthy pink, with the color concentrating in his cheeks, his lips, his nipples, his rounded belly, and most prominently, his semi-hard cock.

He allowed himself to be wrapped in the waiting arms, pulling the elf close so that he could feel Jim's desire. After the brief reunion, B'layr turned back to his herbs.

"Just what are you doing there, anyway?" Jim finally asked, looking at the odd collection of leaves, moss and mushrooms spread over the table.

"These are medicines for the birthing," B'layr explained. "In case anything might go wrong. I brought them with me, but they got wet. I am drying them out."

"You're not expecting anything to go wrong, are you?" Jim asked, suddenly nervous. He pressed the length of his body against B'layr's backside, wrapping arms around the swollen waist.

"No, of course not." B'layr twisted his head to smile up at Jim. "It is just a precaution. I do not know what your customs are for giving birth, but I prefer the way with which I am most familiar."

"Isn't this your first child?" Jim asked, confused.

"Yes, but I have assisted with a birth in our tribe. Do not worry, Jim," B'layr assured him. "Everything is going to be fine." He finished with the plants and broke away from Jim's embrace.

"I'll have to take your word for it," Jim replied. "Please be right. I don't know enough about you to be of much help if anything goes wrong. The hospital certainly won't know how to handle an elvish pregnancy."

"Hospital? What is that?" B'layr asked.

"It's an institution where our medical experts gather to treat the sick, injured and ... pregnant."

"I do not need to be 'treated', Jim. I will give birth here."

"Here?" Jim swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "What if something goes wrong?"

"That is what the herbs are for," B'layr patiently explained. "I will talk you through it, if it becomes necessary."

"What if you can't talk? What if something horrible happens and you start to bleed out?"

B'layr laid a hand on Jim's arm, his touch sending calming waves of confidence to the frightened man. "What is destined to be, will be. I am here now. You are my Sentry. You will keep me safe."

Jim simply nodded, and pulled B'layr into a tight embrace. Holding the elf only emphasized his nudity, and Jim was finding himself becoming aroused once more. "B'layr, Sweetheart, why don't you go get dressed?"

"I have nothing, Jim. The clothes I wore are soaked, and nothing else fits. Your clothes are too binding." He rubbed his excessive girth, grimacing at the thought of trousers and waistbands.

Jim walked over to the couch and pulled the afghan from the back. Walking over to B'layr, he draped it around the elf's shoulders, pulling it closed in front. "I'll have to take care of that for you," he commented. "For now, why don't you let me show you about television." He walked B'layr over to the couch and made him comfortable, then settled beside him and picked up the remote.

As he turned on the power, he heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by movement. Agile, despite his current girth, B'layr had scrambled over the back of the couch to hide, leaving the afghan behind. Jim looked over his shoulder and had to contain a chuckle. B'layr's hair stood out in a fluffy halo around his head, and only his forehead and eyes showed above the back cushions.

"It's all right," Jim soothed. "They are only pictures and recorded sound. Here, let me try this...." He rapidly changed channels until he reached the Discovery Channel, which was currently airing a program on the lush rainforests of Central and South America.

Cautiously, B'layr climbed back onto the couch, settling close to Jim, and stared with fascination. "I cannot smell the forest." He turned to his lover with questioning eyes.

"They're just pictures: images recorded on videotape."

B'layr shook his head. "What a wonder. You can bring the sight and sound of the forest into your home."

"That's not all," Jim said, warming to B'layr's conditional acceptance of the appliance. He started flipping channels until he found that evening's televised Jags' basketball game. "This is what we call basketball. It's a form of organized team sports." He grinned as B'layr watched with fascination, and found himself explaining the game in great detail as the first quarter progressed.

At a commercial break, Jim picked up the telephone and ordered pizza. When he set it back down, he saw B'layr watching him carefully.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing at the phone. "You used it earlier, when it made a noise. You can talk to other men on it?"

"It's called a telephone, and yes, its purpose is to contact someone else who is not within normal speaking distance. I can call all over the city, or across the country, and talk with people."

"There is so much here for me to learn," B'layr sighed. "Your life is so complicated and full. How do you manage?"

"I don't know," Jim answered honestly. "We grow up in this environment. We learn it from a very early age. I can only imagine how foreign it must all seem to you."

"It is very strange. I find myself tiring, just trying to process it all."

"You've had a long and stressful day," Jim reminded him, just realizing those facts for himself. "Perhaps you'd like to go to bed?"

"Bed?" B'layr frowned and shook his head. "Will I ever know all there is to know to live in your world?"

"Probably not," Jim admitted. "But then, none of us does." He smiled. "A bed is a piece of furniture we use for sleeping. It's like a raised platform with lots of padding. You'll like it."

He took B'layr by the hand and led him upstairs. As the elf stood by and watched, Jim pulled back the comforter and sheets, then gestured for the elf to climb in. "These are called pillows. They're for resting your head."

B'layr stretched out on the mattress, laying his head against a pillow and smiling as he sank into the softness. Jim pulled the comforter back over him, tucking him in.

"This is nice." B'layr's voice was almost a purr of satisfaction. "It is very large. You will be joining me, will you not?" A hint of pleading had crept into his tone.

"First I need some dinner and a shower," Jim answered. "I'll come up later. I promise."

"Jim?" The quavering voice was very soft. Jim turned before starting down the stairs. "This is all so new. Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Jim's answering smile was gentle. "Of course I will. I forget how frightening all this must be for you." He stretched out on top of the comforter, laying his head on the pillow beside B'layr's. With one hand, he petted the silken spirals, as he leaned in to claim his good night kiss.

Within minutes, the exhausted elf was snoring softly.

~oO0Oo~

The next morning, Jim arose early, finding himself reluctant to leave the warmth of B'layr's body. He climbed out of bed, careful not to waken the exhausted elf, and went downstairs to shower and fix breakfast. As he was scrambling some eggs, he heard soft footsteps on the stairs.

B'layr walked into the kitchen area, wrinkling his nose. "What is that you are cooking? Simon cooked it when you were camping. It smelled awful then, and it smells awful now."

"Scrambled eggs," Jim answered, smiling at the disgusted look on the face of the young elf. "They're good. You ought to try them sometime."

"No, thank you," B'layr said, shaking his head. "I am getting hungry, though."

"I have some fresh salad greens. Would that do?" He walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. B'layr followed, looking over his shoulder.

"It is cold."

Jim turned to see goosebumps forming on every inch of B'layr's naked body. He closed the door and walked into the bathroom, fetching his robe. Returning, he wrapped it around B'layr's shoulders. "Put this on," he instructed and then opened the refrigerator door again. "This appliance is for keeping foods cold and fresh. Let's see, what have we got?" He dug around, pulling out a head of iceberg lettuce, some tomatoes and carrots, and a few radishes that had seen better days. "Any of this suit you?"

B'layr broke a leaf off the lettuce head, and took a bite. "Tasteless," he remarked, grimacing. "But if it is all you have...." He took the vegetables from Jim and carried them over to the table. As Jim sat down to his breakfast of eggs and toast, B'layr nibbled on the assorted foods in front of him.

"Are the tomatoes any better?" Jim asked, noting that B'layr had started on his second one.

"I have not had such a thing," he answered. "It is interesting. I do wish I could gather something from the forest, though. I cannot be sure I am getting the nutrients the baby needs."

"I'd shop for you, but I'm afraid I don't know what's available in our stores that might suit you. Perhaps we should look for a farmer's market."

B'layr shook his head. "I do not understand everything you are referring to, but it sounds as though I might have to leave this place to go in search of nourishment." He hesitated. "I am not certain I wish to leave. Your city is far too intimidating. Here, at least, I feel safe."

"You don't have to leave, yet," Jim assured him. "But I think you ought to consider getting out sometime. You showed me your world; I'd love to show you mine. First, however, I think I'm going to have to make a quick trip to the mall to see if I can't find you some comfortable clothes to wear."

"Must I?" B'layr sighed, pulling at the edges of the robe.

"It's part of our customs, B'layr. Your people may find clothing optional, but here in the city, it's considered bad taste to go around undressed. There are even laws against it. If you're going to stay here to give birth to our baby, you're going to have to conform to our ways."

B'layr nodded his agreement, still clasping at the robe. "I will do it because you ask it of me."

Jim stood up and began clearing the table. He stowed the dishes in the dishwasher and dried his hands on a towel. "Guess I'd better get going, then. The sooner I shop, the sooner you'll be decent."

"I am decent," B'layr protested, confused.

"I meant dressed," Jim clarified. "Why don't you watch some TV or something while I'm gone?"

"Do not worry about me. I will be fine." B'layr walked around the table and threw his arms around Jim's neck, kissing him soundly. "I will miss you, but I will survive."

"I know you will, Sweetheart," Jim said, stroking the long hair back and tucking some behind a delicately pointed ear. "I won't be long."

~oO0Oo~

When Jim returned ninety minutes later, he found B'layr curled upon the couch with a large picture book—_Peru: A Pictorial Study, photographs by J. Stefani_.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jim commented. "My brother, Steven, gave that to me after I was rescued from the jungle."

"Rescued?" B'layr looked up from the colorful book.

"Yes, I was stranded in the Peruvian jungle for eighteen months when my helicopter crashed there. I was the only surviving member of my team." At the elf's perplexed look, he added, "I was in our country's military at the time." B'layr's look of confusion did not abate. "I'll explain it all some other time. Look! I found you something to wear. Let's see if it fits." He held up a T-shirt and a pair of maternity coveralls.

B'layr let the robe slip off his shoulders as he stood, and Jim pulled the T-shirt over his head. Once B'layr had tugged it into place, he looked down at it. "What does it say?" he asked. "And why is there a large arrow pointing toward my stomach?"

Jim chuckled. "It says 'Baby on Board', and is pointing toward the baby."

"I do not understand," B'layr said, shaking his head and looking up at Jim.

"It doesn't matter, Chief," Jim chuckled. "It's sort of a pregnancy in-joke among my people. Don't worry. It's fine. Underwear was harder to find," he added, holding up a pair of boxers. "I think the elastic is soft enough that it shouldn't bother you."

B'layr stepped into the cotton underwear and pulled it up. "Is this necessary?"

"Why, is it uncomfortable?" Jim asked, worried.

"No, it just seems strange. I have never worn anything under my breeches before."

"Your breeches are softly tanned leather. I think you'll find you may want the protection from denim." He handed over the coveralls, which had daisies embroidered on the bib.

"Very pretty," B'layr remarked, smiling. "Daisies have always been a favorite of mine."

"That's good, because I had to shop in a maternity store to find anything to fit, and among our people, only the women get pregnant."

"I have heard this strange tale. It is true then? Among the race of men, you are sexually divided into Bearers and Sires?" B'layr managed to look astonished.

"That's true. I couldn't have a baby, like you're doing. That's why this all came as such a shock to me."

"I am very sorry for you," B'layr said sincerely. "You do not know what you are missing."

"That's okay." Jim grinned. "I'd just as soon not know." He dug into the sack once more and pulled out a caftan. "The only other thing I could find that you might find comfortable is this. It's loose, and should hang to the floor on you." He presented the dress to his mate.

B'layr's face lit up. "I love it!" He examined the blue floral print closely. "We have a flower like this in the forest. It is a ground cover that stays green all year long. When it blooms, it is covered in blue, star-like flowers. It looks like the heavens sprinkled on the forest floor." He hugged the caftan to him. "It is beautiful! Thank you, Jim!"

"I got you these, too," Jim added, dropping a pair of men's slip-on shoes to the floor. "I had to guess at your size. You can borrow some of my socks for now."

"My feet are not cold," B'layr pointed out. "Must I wear these shoes and socks?"

Jim chuckled and conceded the point. "Not around the house, if you don't want to. But you'll have to wear them when we go out."

"We are going out?" B'layr wrinkled his brow in concern.

"I thought I'd take you to the mall over the weekend. We can get you more clothes."

"I do not need more clothes, Jim." B'layr held up the dress and indicated what he was already wearing. "This is already twice what I normally have. More is not necessary."

"Of course it is!" Jim tried to explain. "In my world, people like change. They don't want to be seen in the same clothes two days in a row."

"Why not?"

"Well, uh, I don't rightly know," Jim confessed. "I suppose because once worn, clothes become dirty and need to be washed."

"Your clothes are not dirty," B'layr pointed out.

"Well, actually," Jim began, thinking it through, "they are. The fabric absorbs perspiration, and the odor clings. In order to stay clean, we shower daily and change our clothes. You'll need to have a couple outfits clean to wear over the weekend while I do our laundry."

B'layr just shook his head. "Having clothes to wear while you wash others.... I do not pretend to understand your ways, but if this is what I must do, I will do it—for you."

~oO0Oo~

The week passed quickly, with B'layr adjusting well to the loft and all its strange appliances. Jim was pleased at how quickly the elf could learn, and how adaptable he was when the need for change was explained. He still balked at wearing the confining clothing, but dressed daily to keep his mate happy.

Saturday morning, B'layr came downstairs dressed in the blue-flowered caftan. Jim had to hide a smile as conflicting images shot through his mind. The large, rounded belly and long, soft hair, combined with the dress, gave off disturbingly feminine vibrations. However, B'layr's strong, square jaw, prominent Adam's apple and broad shoulders shouted his maleness. Jim could only hope people would take the elf at face value, and not ask too many questions.

"Ready to go?" he asked, as B'layr approached.

B'layr took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "As I will ever be," he answered, slipping into one of Jim's spare coats and following him down the hall to the stairs. "Could we walk?" he asked, as Jim approached the truck.

"That would take too long," Jim answered. "Besides, we'd have to carry all our purchases home. What's the matter?"

"I do not trust your vehicle. It moves much too quickly to be safe." B'layr hesitated as Jim opened the passenger side door for him and offered him an arm to help him up and into the seat. When Jim climbed in behind the wheel, B'layr scooted over to sit near him.

"Sorry, Chief, but you're going to have to scoot over, so that I can fasten your seatbelt." He nudged B'layr back across the seat, and leaned over to pull the belt across his shoulders and below the bulge of his belly.

"No!" B'layr's reaction startled Jim. He began to struggle against the restraint, slipping out of the shoulder harness and tugging on the belt where it locked across his hips. "Get it off!"

"B'layr! B'layr! Calm down!" Jim grabbed at the elf's hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing them gently. "It's all right. It's all right." He let go of B'layr's hands and released the catch on the belt. The elf was immediately at his side, quivering in fear. Jim gathered the trembling body in his arms, and began to pet and soothe until B'layr calmed and relaxed in his arms. "Care to tell me what that was all about?"

"Why did you bind me?" The voice was small and frightened.

Jim wiped a tear from B'layr's cheek with a thumb. "It's called a seatbelt, and we use them to protect ourselves when we ride in our vehicles. Cars and trucks are dangerous, although people use them every day with no harm. Most people never come to harm. But because there's a real chance of serious injury, the belts are used to keep us from flying out of the car, and being injured even more severely." Jim stopped and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the tears from B'layr's cheeks. "Can you tell me why it frightened you so much?"

B'layr gulped in a couple deep breaths. "I was captured once, many years ago, by a hunter. He tied me to a tree, and beat me. If my Bearer had not been nearby, I would have perished."

"Oh, God, B'layr! I'm so sorry! I didn't know." Jim cuddled him closer.

"I know. I am sorry. It is just that I have never been bound since."

"Don't worry about it." Jim hugged B'layr close, then let go so he could turn the ignition switch. "You can sit next to me." B'layr clung to his arm, and sat so close Jim had some trouble driving. By the time they reached the mall, B'layr had relaxed some.

"Here we are," Jim announced, unnecessarily.

They climbed out of the truck, and Jim gripped B'layr's hand. "Don't let go, okay? I don't want to take any chances of our getting separated once we're inside." B'layr nodded his assent, squared his shoulders, and walked beside Jim into the mall.

The sights, sounds and smells of the large shopping complex were overwhelming. B'layr wondered if he would ever get used to the noise and the crowds of the city. He huddled close to Jim as they walked through the crowded corridors. They had walked past several shops, on their way to the maternity store, when a familiar scent caught B'layr's attention.

Tugging on Jim's arm, B'layr steered his surprised partner to a florist's shop. "Jim, look!" he said excitedly, pointing to several hanging baskets of greenery. He flitted through the store, touching and sniffing at the various live plants, never letting go of Jim's protective hand. "We have got to get some of these for the loft!" He turned pleading blue eyes on Jim. "Please?"

"We didn't come here to buy plants, Chief, we came to buy clothes." Jim shrugged apologetically at the clerk, who looked as though she wasn't sure what to make of her enthusiastic customer.

"Please, Jim? It would do a lot to make the loft feel more like home." B'layr continued to concentrate his gaze on his partner, much to the man's discomfort. "I am homesick already...." He let his voice drop, adding a hint of wistful sadness.

Jim let out a resigned breath. "Okay. Pick out what you want." He pulled his credit card out of his wallet as he waited for B'layr to bring his selection to the counter.

The ecstatic elf began moving from plant to plant. "This one," he said, pointing to a hanging philodendron, "and this," to a spider plant, "and this!" He bounced over to the Wandering Jew. "Oh, Jim, this too?" B'layr stood in front of a good-sized ficus tree. "And this one?" He had now moved to a large potted rabbit's foot fern.

"Whoa!" Jim said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Enough already!" Turning to the clerk, he handed her his card. "Can I get all that delivered?"

"Yes, of course, sir." The clerk consulted her delivery chart. "How would 4:30 this afternoon be?"

"Perfect," Jim answered. "The address is 852 Prospect, Apartment 307."

"Thank you very much," the clerk said, handing back the card. As the couple left the shop, she continued to eye the strange woman with curiosity.

"Now do you think we can get on with finding you some clothes?" Jim asked, taking a firm hold of the elf's hand and leading him down the hallway.

"Thank you." B'layr turned a dazzling smile on his determined mate. "I will take good care of them. You will not have to bother with a thing."

"I'd better not," Jim grumbled, while trying hard to keep an idiotic smile off his face.

They had passed one intersecting corridor, and were getting near the maternity shop, when Jim found himself being dragged off course once more. "I hear birds and barking!" B'layr pulled Jim across the hallway to the opposite side and into Pet World. "Look, Jim! Animals!" B'layr dragged him inside the shop.

"Why are they all in cages? Animals should be free. This is cruel!" B'layr pressed his face to the glass of the puppy pens. "We must find a way to free them."

"That's not possible," Jim answered, pulling B'layr away from the pens. "These animals are here to be purchased as pets. They're well treated. Trust me. Once someone has purchased them, they are usually allowed to run free in their new home."

"Then we must purchase one!" B'layr said, lighting up.

"No. No way, Chief. Puppies are way too much trouble. You've got no idea."

"A bird, then." B'layr tugged on Jim's hand, taking him over to the wall of cages. "A songbird would be perfect! Oh, Jim ... please!"

"B'layr...." The last thing Jim wanted in the house was a pet. But, he realized, the elf was feeling terribly out of his own environment. He undoubtedly longed for the green plants and living creatures of the forest. One look into pleading eyes was Jim's undoing ... again. Within a half an hour, the selection and purchase had been made, with the promise of delivery later that day.

"Now we are going to buy you some clothes," Jim insisted. "No more side trips." He gripped the elf's hand tightly and guided him into the maternity shop.

"May I help you?" The store clerk greeted the couple as they walked in.

"Yes, we need to build a small wardrobe. B'layr prefers loose, no waistbands." Jim glanced at the elf, who was curiously looking through the selections on the nearest rack.

The clerk came around to where B'layr was picking through some dresses. She patted his distended tummy and smiled. "You look like you're due any day now."

B'layr backed away from the unsolicited touch, pressing against Jim. "No. I have got almost another three moons to wait," he informed her.

"Three moons...? Oh, ah," the clerk stuttered. "I'm sorry, you look about nine months along."

"I am."

Jim tugged at B'layr's arm. "Come on, let's look at the selections." He leaned down to speak softly into an upturned ear. "She's getting curious. We don't want her asking a lot of questions. We need to find what we want and get out of here." B'layr nodded his agreement.

In the end, they had purchased two more pair of the comfortable coveralls, several shirts, and three dresses. With their booty tucked into two large bags, Jim steered his charge out of the store.

"I'm hungry. Do you mind if we stop for me to grab a bite of lunch?" Jim asked as the couple passed by the mall's food court.

"Of course not, Jim. You have been most agreeable with me today. The least I can do is let you nourish yourself."

Jim found an empty table and set the bags down. "Sit here and wait for me. Don't move!" He pointed at the chair and B'layr sat down, watching as Jim moved off to the Wonder Burger stand.

The line was long. As Jim waited, he threw an occasional glance over his shoulder to make sure B'layr was still where he had left him. The elf grinned back and waved. Finally, Jim got to the front of the line and placed his order. He waited for the food to be bagged, then gave his order a quick check. "I asked for no onions," he said, handing the bag back to the clerk.

"I'm sorry, sir. We'll correct that right away." A few more minutes passed as the clerk took the next customer's order, before returning with Jim's new burger. Grabbing the bag, Jim turned to go back to his table, and found it empty, except for the shopping bags. Running over, he grabbed the bags, leaving his Wonder Burger order on the table.

"B'layr!" he called, looking frantically around the food court. "B'layr!"

~oO0Oo~

B'layr sat quietly, waiting for Jim to return with his lunch. He was getting a little bored, not to mention uncomfortable at the strange looks people were giving him as they passed the table. Sharp ears picked up the sound of flutes and drums, water and birdsong. Drawn by the beautiful music, B'layr got up and wandered in the direction of the sounds.

The music was emanating from one particular store. B'layr stepped inside the new age music shop and tentatively walked up to the counter.

The clerk looked up from his inventory sheets. "May I help you?"

"What is that music?" B'layr asked.

The clerk pulled a CD from the display shelf behind him. "It's this one. It's Native American flutes and drums. Very spiritual stuff."

"Thank you," B'layr replied, smiling. Clasping the CD to his chest, he turned and walked out of the store.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" the clerk called after him. "You have to pay for that!" When B'layr didn't turn around, the clerk dialed mall security. Within a minute, two burly officers were escorting the pregnant elf to the mall's security office.

"No! Let go of me!" B'layr squirmed in the grip of the two guards. "I must get back to Jim. Jim does not know where I am!"

"Who is this Jim? Your partner?" one of the officers asked.

"He is my soulmate, my life partner. Let go!" He continued to twist and turn in the strong grip, but to no avail.

Once at the security office, the men pushed B'layr into a seat and grabbed the CD from his hands. "Care to tell us about this?" the officer asked, waving the album in front of B'layr's face.

"I heard the music and went into the store," B'layr explained. "I asked what music was playing, and the man gave this to me."

"Yeah, sure," the officer sneered. "Just up and gave it to you, eh? Why did he call us, then? You gotta pay for stuff in this mall."

"Pay?" B'layr turned frightened eyes up at the interrogating officer. "Please. I must find Jim. He will be worried."

"What's this Jim's full name?" the officer asked.

"Ellison. Jim Ellison," B'layr told him.

"Tom, page this Ellison, would you?" the first officer asked.

~oO0Oo~

"Jim Ellison ... Paging Jim Ellison. Please report to the mall security office. Jim Ellison to the mall security office...."

Jim's head shot up at the sound of the announcement. He had been all around the immediate area, and had only just connected with a faint trail of B'layr's scent. He paused in front of a new age music store and asked the clerk, "Can you tell me how to find the security office?"

"Sure, man. Hang a right here, down at the end of the mall. There's a little hallway off to the left. The office is down there."

"Thanks." Jim was off like a shot, and soon found himself standing in front of the security office door. He pounded on it, willing it to open.

"Can I help you?" the security officer asked, opening the door to the angry Sentry.

"B'layr!" Jim saw the frightened elf cowering in the uncomfortable chair and immediately ran to his side. "Are you okay, Sweetheart? Did they hurt you?"

B'layr shook his head. "I am all right, Jim. Please, get me out of here."

Turning to the two officers, Jim frowned and growled. "Why is he here?"

"The record shop owner called us. She stole this CD." The officer held up the album in question.

"B'layr?" Jim knelt in front of him, rubbing a soothing hand over his pregnant belly.

"I am sorry, Jim," the elf apologized. "I heard this beautiful music—earth music. It sounded so much like home.... I got up to see where it was coming from. The man behind the counter gave me that," he pointed to the CD, "when I asked what was playing."

"Aw, Chief.... I've got some heavy explaining to do with you about economics in our culture. Sweetheart, he was just showing you the CD. He didn't mean for you to take it."

"In the forest, whatever we need is free for the taking, and the people give freely of their own possessions."

"And that's the ideal way," Jim agreed. "But it's not the way things are done here. It's against the law to take things without paying for them first."

"I am sorry. I did not know." B'layr sat with his hands folded in his lap. "If I had had a plastic card like yours...?"

Jim patted B'layr's hands reassuringly. "I'll take care of this. Don't worry." He looked up at the two security officers. "What if I have a talk with the store owner, and offer to pay for the CD?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but a complaint has been filed. We're going to have to bring the police in on this."

"I am the police," Jim told them, pulling out his badge. "This man is new here. He doesn't understand all of our customs. It was an honest mistake. I can assure you, he has no police record."

"He?" The security officer shook his head. "Now I've seen everything," he muttered.

"Let me call my captain. Maybe he can get things cleared up for us," Jim suggested.

"Here ya go. Knock yourself out." The officer handed the phone to Jim.

After a brief conversation, Jim hung up. "He's coming down. He'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

"Ohhhhh," B'layr groaned, leaning forward and gripping his stomach. He began a gentle rocking.

Jim was immediately back at his side, rubbing B'layr's shoulders with one hand, caressing the heaving belly with his other. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

"The baby is moving," B'layr panted. "Cramps."

"Just try to relax," Jim urged, moving both hands to begin a firm massage of B'layr's abdomen. "Breathe deeply. You can do it." B'layr sucked in a deep breath through his nose, letting it out slowly through his mouth. "That's right. Again." Jim's quiet encouragement helped the elf to calm down.

The two security officers just stared in amazement. Whoever, or whatever, this shoplifter was, he/she was presenting a story that no one was going to believe.

All four occupants of the room looked up when the imposing black man filled the doorway. "Okay, Jim. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" Simon chewed the end of his unlit cigar. "And this had better be good."

"Gentlemen, my Captain, Simon Banks," Jim introduced the newcomer. As Simon shook hands with the two mall officers, Jim continued. "B'layr was arrested for shoplifting."

"Shoplifting?" Simon looked stunned.

"He didn't know any better, Simon. He thought the clerk gave him the CD. It was a big misunderstanding."

Simon nodded. "Gentlemen," he began, turning his attention to the two mall security men, "I can assure you this is exactly as my officer has stated. I have known Jim Ellison for over five years, and if he says something, he's generally right. B'layr is new to our area, and not knowledgeable in our customs. He was wrong to take the CD, but where he comes from, such gifts are commonplace. I'll talk to the store manager. I'm sure that if Detective Ellison pays for the CD, we can get the charges dropped. Is that sufficient for you?"

"Yes, sir," the officer agreed. "If you can get the store manager to write it off, we'll drop all charges."

"Call him in, then," Simon ordered.

Within minutes, the store manager had arrived and been apprised of the situation. Looking over the figure of the pathetically huddled elf, he shrugged and accepted the payment, dropping all charges. "On the condition she doesn't show up in my store again."

"It's a deal," Simon agreed.

Jim bundled B'layr into his arms and walked out to where the truck was parked, leaving Simon to pick up their packages and follow. He helped B'layr up into the seat, then slid behind the wheel, accepting the packages his boss handed up to him.

"Thanks, Simon."

"Glad to help." Simon smiled. Then, looking past Jim to the pregnant elf in the blue-flowered dress, he shook his head. "I really don't want to know," he insisted.

Jim pulled out of the parking lot and into the street. "You up to one more stop?" He looked over at B'layr who sat pressed to his side.

"Where?" The question was barely above a whisper.

"I thought we'd find the farmer's market and see if we could find some fruits and vegetables more to your liking," Jim suggested.

B'layr sat up a little straighter and stared out at the traffic. "I would like that."

Jim drove toward the outskirts of town, where a thriving farmer's market was busy every weekend. He seldom came this far out for himself, but he did enjoy the freshness and extra flavor of the fruits and vegetables harvested from the local farms around Cascade. He parked next to a fruit stand, and helped B'layr out of the truck.

It was a little early in the season for many things, but some of the farmers used greenhouses to grow their produce year around. B'layr poked through the offerings, selecting several large, ripe tomatoes, some fresh spinach and a few apples.

"Is that all?" Jim asked, looking at the meager pickings.

"It will be enough," B'layr replied. Jim could hear the unspoken words as clearly as if B'layr had shouted them. There is no selection here. This is not like home.

Jim paid for the produce and steered B'layr back to the truck. "I've got one more place to try. I think maybe you'll like this better."

They arrived, twenty minutes later, in Cascade's Chinatown district. As B'layr walked up and down the sidewalks, eyeing the vendors' offerings, his eyes lit up. Soon his arms were full of aromatic mushrooms and exotic vegetables and herbs.

"Think you have enough stuff here, Chief?" Jim grinned. "Looks like you could feed an army of elves with all this."

"I will put some back." B'layr began sorting through what he had, and searching for the vendors to return the produce.

Jim's hand gripped B'layr's biceps, stopping him. "Don't. You need to eat. If this is what you want, it's yours."

B'layr's head dipped. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Is there anything else here that looks interesting?"

"Many things, but they would spoil before I could use them all." B'layr looked up hopefully. "Could we come back?"

"You bet." Jim wrapped an arm around the elf's shoulders, handed the vendor some bills, and headed back to the truck.

Once home, Jim eyed the eclectic assortment of produce suspiciously. He began digging through the cupboards, coming up with an assortment of plastic containers. "Chief, come here a minute." B'layr wandered over to where Jim stood in front of the Tupperware. "Your stuff goes in the ones with the red lids. My stuff gets the blue lids."

B'layr blinked in confusion. "Why use different colors?"

"So that I don't accidentally poison myself with some of that weird stuff you call food," Jim answered with a smile, to let the elf know he was teasing.

"It would not poison you," B'layr answered quite seriously. "It might even be good for you."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll stick to what I'm familiar with."

The couple spent the next half hour cleaning the produce and packing it away in the color-coded containers. Jim neatly stacked the red ones on the left, and the blue ones on the right. "There you go. Fresh, cleaned, and ready to eat." He turned to grin at the elf, only to find him leaning heavily against the kitchen counter.

Hurrying to B'layr's side, he helped him over to the couch. They settled down with Jim at one end, acting as a pillow for B'layr's head. The elf curled up on his side and closed his eyes.

"A little too much for one day, eh?" Jim asked, petting the silken curls.

"I do not want to go out again," B'layr stated with finality. "Unless we need to go to the market again," he amended.

"After that experience at the mall, I don't blame you," Jim agreed. "Maybe I should explain things to you a bit?"

"No. I do not wish to know. I do not want to try and understand your world, Jim Ellison. It is too strange." He sighed and shifted, trying to get comfortable. "I just want to stay here, safe, with you. You are my Sentry. My protector."

"I didn't do a very good job of that today," Jim whispered, still upset with himself for not paying better attention. When had a Wonderburger become more important than his soulmate?

"It was not your fault. You told me to stay. I was headstrong, and did not follow your advice. Next time, I will listen."

"I thought you said there wasn't going to be a next time," Jim reminded him.

"There is always a next time," the elf replied.

~oO0Oo~

A knock on the door woke the napping couple. Jim slid out from beneath B'layr's head, settling a pillow in his place, and answered the door.

"Delivery for Jim Ellison, from Pet World," the man announced.

"That would be me," said Jim, signing for the delivery and taking the caged canary and stand from the man. "Thanks."

Before Jim had gotten halfway across the room with their new pet, B'layr was up to meet them. He leaned close to the cage and whistled a surprising likeness to the small bird's song. The canary answered back.

"What did he say?" Jim asked, grinning.

"He wishes to be free," B'layr replied, quite seriously.

"That's not going to happen. You can't imagine the mess a bird could make in here. Besides," he added, "if we tried to go out on the balcony, he could escape ... and then he'd probably die." He carried the cage over to the large glass doors of the balcony, and set it down where the bird could get light and a view both inside and out. "He'll be happy enough here."

Before B'layr could comment, there was another loud rap on the door. Jim answered again, to find the florist delivery. There were two men there, and it took them both, and Jim, to get all the plants carried inside. Once everyone was gone, B'layr bounced around the small jungle, trying to decide where everything would thrive best. By the time he finished, Jim felt as though he had been transported back to the woodlands.

"It feels more like home, now," B'layr said, beaming.

Jim had to admit that the yellow sunlight, filtered by the green leaves of the hanging plants, was very soothing. The smell of damp soil and greenery was pleasant. He could feel his whole body relax as his senses drank in the new additions to the loft.

"Yes...." Jim wrapped B'layr in his arms and rocked him gently. "This is nice."

"I knew you would like it." With the addition of the plants and the canary, B'layr seemed to have shrugged off the less memorable parts of the day. Exhaustion began to creep up on the elf and he sank back down onto the couch, bringing Jim with him. Leaning his head on Jim's shoulder, he allowed the bird's song, the scent of living things and Jim's heartbeat to lull him to sleep.

~oO0Oo~

"How about a walk in the park?" Jim suggested.

The stubborn elf shook his head. "I do not wish to venture out into your city again. I have green and living things here."

"The fresh air will do you good," Jim insisted. "Besides, you'll love the park. You didn't get to see much of it the day I discovered you."

B'layr moved slowly, the cumbersome bulk of his pregnancy hindering his usually graceful body. He stood in front of the balcony doors, next to the canary cage, looking out over the bay. "You have told me of a wonder called the ocean," he mentioned. "Is it larger than this lake?"

"That's a bay, and it empties into the ocean a few miles from here."

"I would like to see this ocean of yours," B'layr admitted, turning to look at Jim.

"Then pack your swimsuit, and off we go!" Jim's grin split his face with happiness. He had been trying unsuccessfully for two weeks to get the elf out of the loft since the day of the fateful mall trip.

"Swimsuit?" The elf looked puzzled. "You wear a suit to swim in?"

Jim shook off the comment with a chuckle. "Never mind. Just wear something comfortable."

~oO0Oo~

B'layr stood on the sand, waves lapping at his toes, holding the hem of his yellow floral caftan out of the water. His laughter of delight rang down the beach.

"You like it?" Jim asked, happy that he had been able to coax the timid elf from the apartment.

"It is incredible! I have never seen so much water! I could not walk around this lake," he added, wiggling his toes in the sand.

"No, you certainly couldn't," Jim agreed, laughing. He hooked his elbow with B'layr's, and led the young elf down the beach, picking up shells to examine along the way.

"These are the remains of sea creatures?" B'layr asked, turning a shell over and over with his long fingers.

"Yup. Pretty incredible, huh?"

"Very. May I keep it?" B'layr turned hopeful eyes to his mate.

"Of course. They're free for the taking. Pick up as many as you wish." Jim watched as B'layr waddled off down the beach, squatting occasionally to pick up another shell. The elf's graceful gait had certainly changed since becoming ten months pregnant. Jim still marveled at that fact. Despite evidence to the contrary, flowery dresses notwithstanding, he still saw the elf as strongly male. Still, there was a child-like innocence about him that brought out the Sentry's strongest protective instincts. Before B'layr could get too far down the beach on his own, Jim took off at a jog to catch up.

B'layr was juggling a handful of shells, and squatting down to pick up another as Jim arrived at his side. The tide was beginning to come in, and a larger wave than the ones before swept in, upsetting the elf's precarious balance. "Oooff!" B'layr looked down at the scattered shells, and then up at Jim as the cold water swirled around him. Jim reached down to pull him up, and then gathered the shells, tucking them in his shirt pocket.

"Well, looks like that's about it for this trip," Jim announced, mindful that his partner was wet from the waist down.

"Must we leave?" B'layr asked, beginning to shiver in the cool April breeze.

"'Fraid so, Grace," Jim chuckled.

"My name is not Grace," the elf pointed out, puzzling over his mate's statement.

"It's not so much a name as it is a description," Jim explained.

"I am not very graceful right now, either," B'layr replied, still trying to understand.

"It's a joke."

"Oh. It is not a very funny joke." B'layr was frowning as his shivering increased.

"Let's get you home." Jim wrapped an arm around his waist and led B'layr back to the truck.

~oO0Oo~

The month of May rolled around with warmer temperatures and more outdoor activity. As B'layr's pregnancy continued to advance, however, he became more and more reluctant to leave the safety of the loft. Jim was forced, by lack of vacation time or sick leave, to return to work, leaving the elf on his own during the day.

B'layr filled the watering can and was making the rounds of the plants, his canary fluttering nearby, occasionally landing on his shoulder, when Jim came in. He was waving two tickets and speaking excitedly.

"You're going to love this!" He waved the tickets under B'layr's nose.

"I will love two little pieces of paper?" B'layr smiled tolerantly at his mate, knowing that eventually Jim would explain.

"No, no.... These are tickets, concert tickets to see Terrance O'Connell." At the elf's questioning look, Jim continued. "He's a local pianist who went on to become famous. He's played in Carnegie Hall and before the Queen of England. He's just back from a tour of Russia. These tickets have been sold out for months!"

"How did you get them?"

"One of the detectives I work with had to give them up. His father has taken ill, and he had to fly back to Oklahoma to be with the family."

"I am very sorry to hear that," B'layr said with genuine concern. "It is difficult when one's parent becomes ill." He wrapped an arm around his belly and grimaced.

"B'layr! What's wrong?"

"Nothing, my heart. Just the baby beginning to prepare himself for birth."

Jim hustled the elf over to the couch and pulled him down on the cushions. He laid his hands on either side of B'layr's navel, feeling for anything out of place.

B'layr smiled, covering Jim's hands with his own. "The birth is only a month away," he reminded his love. "This is not important, merely somewhat uncomfortable." Jim felt as the baby kicked again.

"Wow! He's really strong." Jim grinned.

"Yes," B'layr agreed wearily. "He has been at it all day."

"Then you probably don't feel up to going to the concert?"

B'layr shifted on the couch and wrapped his arms around Jim's neck. "You bought those tickets for me, did you not?" he asked.

"Mostly," Jim admitted. "I've wanted to hear O'Connell play, but I never wanted to go alone. I thought this might be one aspect of city life you'd find enjoyable."

"I love music, Jim. You know that. If you think this is something I would enjoy, you are most likely correct. I will go with you."

"Are you sure?" Jim looked hopeful, but at the same time felt concern for his pregnant mate. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I will be fine, Jim," B'layr assured him.

~oO0Oo~

That evening, B'layr descended the loft stairs attired in his one dressy outfit—a deep forest green velvet dress, floor-length and long-sleeved. With his hair down, he looked surprisingly feminine. Jim felt a jolt of shame at the thought. Taking B'layr out in public was risky, under any circumstances. It made sense to disguise his male features and highlight the feminine. After all, explaining away a pregnant man might detract from the concert. Still, he felt guilty about the deception.

"You look beautiful," he commented as B'layr stepped off the bottom stair. The color and fabric highlighted the sparkling blue eyes, and clung seductively to the roundness of B'layr's belly. The sight was nearly enough to make Jim wish to stay home instead of going out.

"Thank you. You look quite beautiful yourself."

Jim blushed and glanced down at the dark suit he had chosen for the occasion. They would make a handsome couple. Still, embarrassment niggled at the edges of his conscience. "B'layr," he hesitated, and then decided to plow bravely on. "About the dress...."

"What about it? Does it not flatter me?" B'layr's bright eyes clouded.

"No! Oh, no. It looks great. It's just that, well, it's a dress."

"Is that a problem? I have been wearing dresses for several weeks now."

"But you mostly stay inside," Jim told him.

Confusion colored B'layr's features. "Do you wish me to change?"

Jim sighed. "No, that's not it. The problem is, you're a man ... in a dress. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Does it bother you?" B'layr asked in return. "I am not a man, Jim. I am an elf. I am pregnant, and this is comfortable. You would wish me to dress as you do? I could not abide that now, even if you could find the clothes to fit me."

"People are going to think you're a woman."

"I do not care what other people think," B'layr stated defiantly. "I only care what you think. What do you think?"

"That you are the most beautiful, the most sensual, the most delectable creature I have ever set eyes on."

"Do you love me?" B'layr wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

"Don't get me started, Chief." He grabbed B'layr's elbow and steered him out the front door and down to the truck. Once they were safely on their way, he turned to his companion. "Of course I love you."

~oO0Oo~

The concert hall was filling rapidly, but fortunately they had assigned seating. Jim led B'layr down the center aisle to the fourth row. He stood aside as B'layr eased into the second seat. Jim sat on the aisle.

"Comfortable?"

"Not very," the elf admitted. While the seats were reasonably wide and well upholstered, the leg room between rows left much to be desired. B'layr tended to slouch in seats, because sitting upright was next to impossible with his pregnant bulk.

"Maybe we should leave," Jim suggested, starting to stand.

B'layr reached out and pressed Jim back into his seat. "We will stay," he said with finality.

The lights dimmed and a spotlight lit the stage. The curtains were pulled back to the opening strains of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata."

B'layr was immediately transported by the music. By the intermission, he was wholly absorbed in the experience.

"That was fantastic! I have never heard anything like it. Will there be more?" He looked around at the people leaving their seats.

"Yeah. This is just an intermission. It gives people a chance to use the bathroom, or buy drinks and CDs in the lobby," Jim explained. "We can stay here. It won't be long."

Fifteen minutes later, the curtain came up again on a Mozart piano concerto. In the middle of the lively piece, B'layr began to squirm. Jim reached over, laying a hand on his stomach. The baby was kicking, not allowing B'layr to find a comfortable position.

Coming to a quick decision, Jim stood and pulled B'layr out of his seat. He wrapped an arm around B'layr's waist and guided him back up the aisle. Out in the lobby, he pushed the elf down onto a padded bench.

B'layr was gasping for breath, unable to tell Jim what was wrong. Through the soft fabric of the dress, Jim could see the movements of the baby as he squirmed in the tight confines of the womb. Suddenly, Jim realized what was happening. The child was stretching, pushing up against the diaphragm and making breathing difficult for B'layr. With gentle pressure, Jim pushed against the womb, forcing the baby lower.

B'layr gulped in air, relieved to be able to breathe once more. Jim sat him up carefully, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders. "Better?" The elf nodded, and leaned into Jim's embrace.

"I am sorry for spoiling your evening," he said when he'd finally regained his breath.

Jim stroked the brown curls, pulling B'layr's head down to his shoulder. "It's okay, Sweetheart. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have brought you."

"But I loved it," B'layr told him, pulling away so he could look at Jim. "I am very glad you convinced me to come."

"Let's get you home," Jim suggested. "I think that's enough stimulation for one evening. Maybe we'll do something else some other time."

When they got home, Jim led B'layr up the stairs to their bed. "You need to rest," he said, unzipping the dress so that it slithered to the floor, pooling around B'layr's feet. Beneath the deep green velvet, the elf had chosen to wear nothing. Jim pulled the covers back, and tucked him in. He quickly divested himself of his own clothing, laying the suit neatly over the back of a chair, but not taking the time to properly hang it. He slid under the covers next to his love, and pulled B'layr close.

The elf cuddled into the welcome embrace, pressing his swollen belly into the tight abs of his mate. Jim felt every movement of the baby as it began to quiet down, giving his Bearer some blessed relief.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening. I shall not put up such a fuss if you should want to take me out again," B'layr murmured against Jim's chest.

Jim placed a chaste kiss on top of the dark curls under his chin and held B'layr close as the elf drifted slowly off to sleep.

Memorial Day:

Jim awoke to the scraping of furniture across the hardwood floors. Peering through the railing behind his bed, he looked down into the main room of the loft. Sweating with effort, B'layr was pushing the couch around to face the balcony. The loveseat had already been moved over by the fireplace, and the chair faced out the balcony doors at an angle, over by the bookcase. The rug was bunched off to one side, and the coffee table sat at a skewed angle.

Padding down the stairs, Jim crossed the room to grab the other end of the piece of furniture his mate was trying to move. He swung the end around, so that it lined up at right angles to the loveseat.

"Um, Sweetheart, just what do you think you're doing?" he asked, when they got the couch settled.

"Preparing the room for the birth," B'layr answered. "I would like to give birth amongst my plants, near the windows, where I can get fresh air."

Jim noticed that the hanging plants were now situated on low tables, and the ficus tree had been pulled over to the doors. The birdcage still hung nearby, but the canary was rarely in it, much to Jim's dismay. "Shouldn't we move things upstairs, then?" he wondered. "You're not going to be giving birth on the couch."

"No, I do not plan that," B'layr grinned, "but things are fine as they are. Living things need light and air in order to grow and breathe."

Jim nodded. Coming up behind the elf, he wrapped his arms around him, resting his hands on B'layr's stomach. "I still can't really believe this is happening," he admitted. "It's a bit surreal."

"For me as well," the elf admitted. "It seems strange to be preparing for the biggest event of my life in a place so far from my home."

"You miss it."

"Very much." B'layr sighed, and turned to tilt his head up at Jim. "You promised to take me to the park? I think I would like to go now."

"Really?" Jim was both surprised and pleased. "Why don't you rest up from your little exercise in interior decorating while I fix us some breakfast. After that, we'll go down to Holden Park and I'll show you that the city isn't all ugly."

B'layr settled on the couch, gazing out the windows at the bright blue sky. The canary swooped down from its perch up near the loft's high ceiling, to settle in a nest of tangles atop the elf's head.

Silver laughter drifted over to where Jim was fixing a plate of sliced tomatoes, celery and fresh mushrooms in the kitchen. How the kid could eat this stuff and nothing else was beyond the Sentry's understanding.

~oO0Oo~

"I think you'll enjoy the arboretum," Jim said, steering B'layr through the crowded park.

The elf stayed pressed against Jim's side, wary of the people and the strange looks directed at him. "Why do they stare?" He tipped his head up to study Jim's face.

"Pregnant women always draw attention to themselves. Don't worry about it." Jim tightened his hold around B'layr's waist, and rested his other hand protectively over their baby.

"But I am not a woman. I am an elf. Do you think they notice?"

"I think they notice that you're about to drop your load any day now," Jim answered with a smile. "Some are probably anticipating the excitement of seeing you go into labor over a picnic lunch."

"I am not having the baby today, Jim," B'layr assured him, "although I am ready." He sighed heavily, resting his hand over Jim's where it pressed against his belly. "I am tired, and my back hurts."

Jim opened the door into the arboretum and ushered B'layr inside. "There are some benches here. We can rest for a while." He led the elf over to an ornate wood and iron bench, and helped lower him onto it.

"This is very beautiful." B'layr looked around at the trees, shrubs and flowers, all planted in the small area to give the impression of being deep in a tropical forest. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Thank you. This is perfect."

"Feel more like home to you?"

"Oh, yes. I did not know such a place existed inside the city."

"I come here when I need to relax, to get away from all the sensory input," Jim explained.

"How are your senses?" B'layr wondered. "Have you learned to control them as I taught you?"

Jim nodded, drinking in the relative silence of the wooded area. "For the most part. I've gotten much better at toning things down. I still zone when I focus too hard on one sense, but it doesn't happen often, and Simon has always been able to talk me back."

"That is good." B'layr smiled at the Sentry. "Would you allow me to test your abilities while we are here?"

"What did you have in mind?" Jim asked suspiciously.

"Close your eyes," B'layr instructed.

Reluctantly, Jim shut his eyes. "Now what?"

"I want you to reach out with your hearing. Tell me how many different bird songs you can pick out."

"I can't," Jim protested. "There are too many other noises around. Too many people."

"You can do this, Jim," B'layr insisted, resting one hand on Jim's shoulder, while gently stroking his arm with the other. "Filter out the people's voices—everyone's but mine. Listen only to me." He waited, intently watching the subtle expressions flit across Jim's face. "Good. Now block their footsteps. Ignore the fans that bring the breeze." He smiled as he watched the relaxed concentration forming on his mate's face. "Very good. You are doing it. Now filter out the water sounds. Concentrate only on the birds." He fell silent, watching in wonder as a small smile grew around Jim's mouth and his lips moved silently, counting.

"Eighteen," Jim said finally, opening his eyes. "I could count eighteen different species by their song."

"That is amazing!" B'layr beamed with pride. "And you have learned a new skill: how to filter out unwanted sounds to focus in on what you wish to hear."

"Yeah, that's pretty great!" Jim's enthusiasm matched that of his partner.

"I have seen butterflies here, too. How many different kinds are there?"

"I don't know," Jim answered. "There's probably a placard around here somewhere that tells."

"No, my heart. Look. Use your sight to tell me how many there are," B'layr urged.

Jim looked around, finally spotting a flicker of movement, accompanied by bright colors. After several minutes of intense concentration, he turned back to B'layr. "From here, I've seen at least five different varieties. I think there are more."

"That is fine. That is good." B'layr leaned in to place a kiss on Jim's cheek. "You do not have to find them all," he said with a smile. "Close your eyes again, and tell me what you smell," B'layr instructed.

"You," Jim answered quickly, turning to inhale deeply.

B'layr slapped his shoulder in mock anger. "Concentrate," he ordered.

Jim chuckled at the stern tone, but turned away and complied with the request. "Well, there are the trees, of course. I can smell the ferns, as well, and something rotting with a musky smell—mushrooms, perhaps."

B'layr patted his arm. "Good. Go on."

"There are perfumes galore...."

"Filter them out."

"Sweat, fabrics, leather...."

"Filter them all out. Concentrate on the flora and fauna here, not the people."

Jim nodded, his eyes still closed. "Wet feathers. There's a birdbath or water nearby. Ducks, perhaps? No, something more exotic ... swans. They have swans here." B'layr kept up the gentle stroking of Jim's arm. "Um, flowers. There are flowers. Not roses, though. Wildflowers."

"Open your eyes, Jim," B'layr asked. He then pointed down the path to a patch of blue. "Those bell-shaped flowers—concentrate on them. Can you smell the fragrance?"

Jim concentrated his sight until the blue bellflowers were all he saw, and focused on catching their scent. After a moment, he nodded. "I believe so."

"Let us check it out." B'layr rose from the bench, taking Jim's hand. They walked down the path to where the flowers bloomed in a small bed of riotous color. Jim bent down and took a whiff.

"Yup, that's what I smelled, all right."

"Amazing," B'layr breathed. "You used your sight to guide your sense of smell, did you not?"

Jim thought about it for a moment, and nodded. "I didn't know I could do that."

"Neither did I," the elf admitted. "It is a useful skill."

"You can say that again," Jim agreed.

"We still have not tested taste or touch," B'layr mentioned, as they continued their casual walk through the restful woods.

"That can wait," Jim murmured, enraptured by the changes he sensed in the elf as they walked deeper into the man-made forest. B'layr's scent had changed—had returned to the musky wood odor that had marked him the day Jim had found him injured in the woods of the Cascade Mountains. His demeanor was more relaxed, and the weariness that seemed the elf's constant companion in these past weeks had melted away.

"We could test touch now," B'layr suggested, stopping. He took Jim's hands and placed them on his swollen belly. "Tell me what you feel."

"The baby's kicking." Jim grinned as a foot connected with the abdominal wall near where his hand rested.

"Even I felt that," chided B'layr. "Tell me more."

"I can feel the head," he said, stroking the top of the prominent bulge. "There's a fist...." He moved his hands around, pressing lightly. "Both feet. He's trying to move, to turn." He looked up to see a slight grimace of pain flash across B'layr's face. "I can't tell a whole lot. There's a lot of fluid cushioning him. I can't get through it all."

"That is enough," B'layr said, smiling. He lifted both of Jim's hands and brought them to his mouth for a kiss. "Your touch is the gift I prize the most," he revealed. "It takes away the pain and fills me with joy."

Jim pulled the elf close, pressing a kiss against the pliant lips. B'layr opened himself, letting his mate map him with his sense of taste.

When they finally pulled apart, B'layr felt dizzy. He leaned into Jim, resting his head against the broad, strong chest. Jim's fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close.

"Perhaps it's time I took you home," Jim suggested when the elf finally opened his eyes and looked up at his mate.

"Must we go?" Liquid blue eyes pleaded to stay in the lush green of the arboretum.

Jim eyed the flushed face, feeling the heat rolling off the smaller body. "I think it would be a good idea if we did," he replied, turning them toward the exit of the exhibit.

B'layr had not cooled down by the time they got home. Perspiration was rolling down his brow, and the scent of arousal wafting from him nearly overpowered the Sentry, whose senses were still tingling from the exercises B'layr had put him through.

They backed through the loft's door, locked in a passionate kiss and clawing at each other's clothing. B'layr broke free, panting, and headed for the stairs as fast as his pregnant bulk allowed, shedding his remaining garments as he went. When Jim reached the top of the stairs, he found the elf sprawled nude on their bed, one hand caressing the mound of his belly, the other fisting a sizable erection. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, with excited pants and groans issuing from his throat.

"No fair starting without me, Chief," Jim scolded, divesting himself of the remainder of his clothing and climbing onto the bed with the elf. He pushed B'layr's hands aside, taking over the loving caresses of his mate's body.

B'layr's fingers gripped Jim's ears, unable to find sufficient purchase in his short hair, and pulled Jim's head down toward his leaking cock. Unable to resist the offering, Jim's lips wrapped around the purple head, tongue lapping up the distinct flavor of his mate, his guide. He made love to B'layr's cock with his mouth, while his hands caressed the fullness of his womb. When the elf came with a wailing cry, Jim felt the strong contractions that rippled across his abdomen.

He pulled the spent body against his, concern dampening his own ardor. The contractions continued for several minutes, slowly lessening in frequency and intensity. Jim peppered the sweaty face with kisses, pushing damp hair away from B'layr's eyes.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered. B'layr moaned as another contraction lightly gripped him, but nodded against Jim's chest, where his head lay nestled over Jim's heart. One long-fingered hand slipped between them to stroke at Jim's softening erection. The Sentry gathered the hand in his, locking their fingers together. "It's all right. We need to take care of you now. That was a stupid thing for me to do with the baby so near to birth."

"No, Jim. Do not take on guilt that does not belong to you." B'layr's breath was beginning to even out as the contractions ceased. "It was my arousal. My choice." He turned deep-blue eyes on the man holding him. "I have never told you how grateful I am that you accepted our bond, that you did not push me away that first night in the woods. You have given me a gift that I will be hard-pressed to repay."

"You have already repaid any debt you might imagine," Jim replied, caressing an upturned cheek with his thumb. "You have given me control and direction with these senses of mine. You saved me from a life of madness. The debt is mine."

"There should be no debts between soulmates," B'layr informed him sleepily. His eyes blinked, and he closed them, curling into his Sentry's protective embrace.

Jim stroked the silken curls, placing a gentle kiss on the top of the head pressed against him. He pulled the blankets up over their cooling bodies and allowed his own eyes to close.

Mid-June:

Jim came home from work to find B'layr on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the polished wood floor in front of the balcony windows. "What do you think you're doing?" He crossed the room quickly to help B'layr to his feet.

"Preparing for the birth. It will be soon." B'layr dropped his scrub brush in the bucket of water.

"So why are you scrubbing the floor? It's not like you're going to have the baby there. Come here." He took B'layr by the hand and led him over to the couch to sit. "You need to take it easy, Sweetheart. The baby could come any day now."

"I know. That is why I have to be ready." B'layr hesitated. "I am worried, Jim." He leaned over to rest his head against Jim's chest, reassured by the steady heartbeat, and the fingers tangled in his hair.

"What about?" Jim pulled the elf close against him, and laid a hand on the rounded belly.

"The baby has not yet turned." B'layr sighed, placing his own hand over Jim's and pressing lightly. "I tried using some of my herbs, but so far it has not helped."

"He could still turn, right?" Jim asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. He wanted to project only calm and confidence at this point in the game.

"It is not likely," B'layr replied. "If we are unable to turn him, he will be born breech."

"And that's a problem?" Vaguely, Jim understood that it was, but he was not sure why.

"It means a longer and more painful labor," B'layr told him. "There is danger that the baby may suffocate before the birthing is complete."

"And what about you? Is there a danger to you?" Jim tipped B'layr's chin up with a finger, fear now showing in his pale blue eyes.

"Not as much. There could be tearing, blood loss. Exhaustion is the biggest factor. If the labor continues too long, I may lose the strength to push the baby out, and he will die."

"And what about you? What if you can't push the baby out?"

"Then I will die, as well." B'layr pushed up from Jim's chest and straightened. "Do not worry, Jim. I trust you not to let that happen." He patted Jim's chest, over his heart. "You are my strength, my hope. It will go well."

B'layr scooted away from Jim's embrace, pulling his legs up onto the couch and curling them beneath him. He studied his mate, as Jim stared back, worry still written prominently in the lines around his eyes. "There is something I have been meaning to ask you." As Jim's look slowly changed to one of curiosity, he continued, leaning forward as far as his pregnancy would allow. "Among the elves, bloodline is very important. I can trace my ancestors back a hundred generations. Does your family hold their ancestry in such regard?"

"Not to that extent," Jim admitted, "but I think I have a book here, somewhere." He got up and went to search the bookshelves. "Ah, here it is." He returned with an oversized, hand-bound book. Sitting back down next to B'layr, he opened it. "This is our family tree, as traced by some obscure cousin. My father passed it to me, as the eldest son. I've never really looked at it," he admitted.

"Here you are," B'layr said, pointing to one branch of the tree. "You have a brother, Steven."

"Yes, he's my only sibling. My father, William Elliot Ellison, and my mother, Margaret Mary Grace McDonald. Then my grandparents...." he said, pointing as he went. Many branches dead-ended, or were left blank, where the family genealogist had lost track of the familial connections.

B'layr studied the pages, turning back time with each new page. "Who is this?" he asked, pointing to a name.

"Leanin ... I'm not sure. A great, great, great-something-grandfather of mine? Maybe there's some history later in the book." He started to turn the pages, but B'layr laid a hand over his, stilling them.

"In elvish legend, there is the story of an elf who went on Quest and mated with a human woman. His name was L'anin. He was the tribe's last Sentry. It is said, he went with his mate out of the forest to live, and bore a child of Sentry blood. It is thus the Gift passed from our people to yours.

"Jim, you are a child of L'anin! You have elven blood in your ancestry. That is why you bear the Gift. I do not know why I did not make the connection before." B'layr looked with wonder on his mate.

Jim shook his head. "No. That can't be possible."

"It may explain why I was drawn to you," B'layr replied. "The tribe's Elder told me, just before I left on my Quest, that it was my destiny to bring the Gift back to the elves. Jim, our child will be the one." His eyes glowed with excitement.

"I don't know, Chief. It all sounds pretty far-fetched to me. I mean, look at the odds—that I would have elven blood in my ancestry, that you, in particular, would be drawn to me.... The chances are astronomical."

B'layr's voice grew soft. "You would have said the same thing about elves in general only a year ago. Stranger things have happened." The elf grew still, resting a hand on his stomach. "It is beginning," he whispered.

"What?" Jim was beginning to grow concerned. Fine lines of stress were forming around B'layr's eyes, and his breathing had become shallow.

B'layr reached out and placed Jim's hand over the baby. A few minutes later, he felt the rolling muscle spasm, and watched as B'layr's mouth pinched shut until it stopped. "The baby is coming."

"No! He hasn't turned yet!" Jim felt the fear bubble up from his gut. "Lie down." He pushed B'layr back against the cushions. "I was a medic in the Army. I didn't have to deal with pregnant women, but I did once watch a doctor manually turn a baby."

"Can you do this?" B'layr sounded hopeful.

"I can try." Jim straddled his patient and placed his hands on either side of B'layr's abdomen. He began a firm massage-and-push motion, designed to help the baby turn within the tight confines of the womb.

"Oooooowww...." B'layr moaned quietly, panting in short, quick bursts.

"I know it hurts, Sweetheart, but we have to keep trying." Jim bore down, breaking a sweat in his effort to turn the baby.

"Ah-ah-ah," B'layr panted, finally laying his own hands over Jim's. "The child is too large. You cannot turn him."

"Sometimes it takes a while. Don't give up." Jim bore down again.

"Jim!" B'layr cried out. "Stop. Oh, please stop!" Jim hesitated and looked up into the pain-filled blue eyes. "That mushroom I brought with me from the forest..." Jim nodded. He remembered the mess of drying forest plants from B'layr's first day at the loft. "Get some for me? It dulls the pain."

Jim got up and rummaged through the red-lidded containers in the refrigerator, until he came to the one with the forest medicines. He dug out several slices of the dried mushroom and carried them over to his mate. "This the one?"

"Yes, thank you." B'layr nibbled at the fleshy fungus, while Jim perched on the edge of the couch.

"Are you ready for me to try again?" Jim asked, when B'layr had finished eating. The elf shook his head.

"I think that for better or worse, our child will be born breech. All I require is for you to be near," B'layr told him. "There is little for you to do, except to help keep me focused." He panted through another contraction. "I will lie here and rest, until it is time to push."

"Wouldn't you rather go upstairs to bed?" Jim suggested. "You'd be more comfortable there. I've got plastic sheets to protect the mattress during the birth."

"I am fine here," B'layr stated, closing his eyes against another wave of pain. "He is anxious to see the world." B'layr smiled up through yet another contraction. "It should not be too much longer."

"I'll go get some supplies," Jim suggested, heading for the bathroom. He went about gathering all his clean towels, several washcloths and a basin for some warm water. When he returned, he found B'layr squatting in the middle of the freshly scrubbed hardwood floor. He had shed all his confining clothing, and rested there with his arms folded across his knees and his head resting lightly against his arms. He was panting softly.

Jim immediately knelt beside him. "B'layr? What are you doing? You should be in bed." He tried coaxing his mate to stand.

"No, Jim," B'layr managed between the contractions. "This is the most efficient position. All you must do is catch our son when he is birthed." Another contraction rippled across his tight abdomen. B'layr took a deep breath and began pushing. His face was red with the effort, and he drank in great gulps of air when the contraction had passed.

Jim wiped his face with a damp washcloth. "You're doing great, Sweetheart. I know you can do this."

B'layr's face reddened again as another contraction proceeded on the heels of the previous one. "Ungh ... ow, ow, ow.... Oh, Jiiiim!" B'layr panted when the pain had passed. "The Elders did not say it would hurt so much."

"They didn't want to scare you off," Jim answered with a gentle smile. "You're bringing the Sentry gift back to your people, remember?"

B'layr nodded as the cramping increased and he pushed again, and again, and again. "Anything yet?" he gasped through clenched teeth.

Slightly embarrassed, Jim bent down to look and was surprised to see the tight sphincter muscle had relaxed, leaving an opening large enough to accommodate his fist. "B'layr, I'm going to put my hand inside you during the next contraction and see if I can feel anything. Okay?" The elf nodded, sweat dripping down his forehead.

On the next contraction, Jim gently inserted his right hand, extending his fingers to feel for the baby. His fingertips encountered soft flesh. "Keep pushing, Chief. He's coming. You can do it. Come on," he coached.

B'layr's panting and moans of pain had to be ignored for now, as hard as the Sentry found that particular task. Now was the time to concentrate on the child being born, the child who was coming into the world butt-first.

"Here comes another one," Jim continued his litany as the contractions increased in frequency and strength. "Push now. Come on, a little harder. There you go."

"Ah, ah, ah, ah." B'layr's panting carried with it only a hint of his pain. "Oooooohhh...." he cried as the contraction ended, only to be wrung out by another one starting. "I cannot. I cannot...."

"Yes, you can," Jim insisted. "Don't you go giving up on me now. We've still got a long way to go."

"Need to rest."

Jim sat down immediately behind the elf, curling his legs tailor-fashion. Reaching up for B'layr's hips, he gently rocked the elf back into his lap.

B'layr relaxed gratefully into the embrace, feeling strong arms wrap around his chest. He let his head drop back to rest on Jim's shoulder. Several contractions came and went with the exhausted elf breathing through the cramps with rapid pants.

Jim soothed his mate, brushing stubborn wet strands of hair from his face, and wiping down his entire body with a cool, damp cloth.

"That feels so good," B'layr sighed.

"But you know you have to get back to work soon," Jim reminded him. "That baby isn't going to be born like this."

B'layr turned his head and captured Jim's lips in a gentle kiss. "I love you, Jim Ellison. Help me up?"

Jim pushed B'layr out of his lap and back into the squatting position. The elf was breathing heavily as Jim produced a bit of leather thong and tied back the long hair. "Thank you," he panted.

Cupping B'layr's face with both hands, Jim caught the tired eyes. "Do you mind if I call Simon? I think this is going to be a little more than I can handle on my own, and he was there at the birth of his own son." B'layr nodded. "It won't make you uncomfortable?"

B'layr shook his head. "At home, the whole tribe comes to bear witness to a birth. Simon is a part of your tribe."

Jim got up to make the call. "It's bad, Simon," he told his boss. "The baby is breech, and B'layr's not making any progress pushing him out."

"Maybe you should take him to the hospital," Simon suggested.

"He won't go. He'd die first," Jim told him.

"Don't give him the choice."

"Simon, he's an elf. Nobody knows how to treat an elf! He could die before they figured out what to do."

"He could die in your arms at home," Simon reminded him.

"Just get over here as soon as possible, okay? I'll leave the door unlocked for you."

"On my way."

Jim hung up the phone and went to unlock the door. By the time he returned to B'layr, the elf had collapsed to his knees. He was in the midst of his strongest contraction yet, his whole body red and sweat-slicked with effort. Jim checked his progress and noted that the tiny butt could be seen "crowning" at the opening of the birth canal.

"You're doing great, B'layr! Keep it up! I can see the baby now," Jim told him.

"Ah! Ohhhh.... owww...." B'layr fell forward, until his forehead touched the floor. "No more. Please, no more." The next contraction was already building to its peak and he began pushing again.

Jim could tell the effort was extreme. He could see B'layr's strength draining away with each renewed contraction. If he couldn't do something soon, he was going to lose both his child and his soulmate.

When Simon finally arrived, Jim was once more seated on the floor with B'layr resting in his lap. The elf's eyes were closed with exhaustion.

"Hey, Simon," Jim greeted his captain.

Simon stared in shock at the nude body sprawled in the arms of his chief detective. He shook his head. "I really don't want to know." He sounded resigned. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

"B'layr is exhausted," Jim told him. "The baby is breech, and he's been pushing for nearly two hours with very little progress. I saw the baby's butt crown about twenty minutes ago, but as soon as he stopped pushing, the baby disappeared inside. He's going to need help if we're going to get this baby out."

"Tell me what you want," Simon repeated.

"Could you please take my place here?" Jim asked. "Just sit on the floor and cradle B'layr. He and I will do the rest."

Simon helped lift the limp body out of Jim's lap. Jim took over holding B'layr until Simon could get seated, lining his lap with a layer of fresh towels. Once comfortable, Jim lowered the elf into his arms.

Kneeling in front of his exhausted mate, Jim watched in concern as another contraction rippled across his abdomen, with no reaction. He cupped B'layr's cheeks with his hands, patting lightly to wake him up. "B'layr, Honey, you have to wake up. You're not done here yet."

"Wanna sleep." B'layr looked up through heavily lidded eyes.

"I know, Chief, but we have to finish this. I'm going to help, okay?" At B'layr's weak nod, Jim positioned himself with his hands at the top of the elf's swollen belly. When he felt the next contraction ripple across the surface, he urged his mate, "Push. Come on, B'layr. Push as hard as you can." B'layr broke out in an all-over sweat at the effort, but weakened as he was, his struggle produced little result. Jim pressed down hard, aiding the elf's tiring muscles. "Again!" Jim shouted, sweating himself. He had never realized before what giving birth really meant. Now he was struggling to save both his baby and his lover. "Again! Push harder, B'layr!"

A keening wail of pain escaped the tortured creature in Simon's arms. He wished there was something he could do, but he was helpless to do more than sit and watch. "Ease up a little, Jim. You're hurting him!" he protested.

"Gotta do it, Simon," Jim panted. "Gotta get this baby born. Push, goddammit!" he shouted at B'layr. The elf trembled in Simon's arms, but was unable to comply with his mate's demands.

"You're gonna have to help me here, Simon," Jim finally decided.

"What do you want me to do?" his captain asked.

"I need you to take over pushing. Just place your hands here." He took Simon's hands and placed them on B'layr's belly. "When you feel the contraction start, you push. Push as hard as you can. Don't worry about hurting B'layr. I'm going to see if I can pull the baby out. Ready?"

Simon nodded. He didn't have to wait long for the contraction. He began to push. The man in his arms whimpered and cried out, and Simon let up.

"Don't, Simon. Keep pushing!"

"I'm hurting him, Jim," the larger man protested.

"It's going to hurt him a hell of a lot more if I can't get this baby out! Now, push!"

Simon bore down again, despite the cries and protests from B'layr. The tiny butt made another appearance at the opening, and Jim tried to slip his fingers inside to grip and pull. The opening was too tight, and the baby too large and slippery. When the contraction ended, the baby disappeared again.

"This isn't working," Jim admitted. "B'layr's just not big enough to pass a breech birth."

"So now what?" Simon asked. "You let them both die?"

"Are you kidding?" Jim shook his head, trying to think. A C-section was out of the question, unless B'layr died and there was still hope for the baby. There was no way with his medic's training alone that Jim could accomplish the task and save both B'layr and their child. Cut, cut, he thought. Somewhere in that idea lay the answer. "Cut!" he crowed out loud.

"What?" Simon turned to look at his detective like he'd finally gone around the bend.

Jim jumped up and headed for the kitchen, digging through the drawer for a small, sharp knife. Without enough time for a proper disinfecting, Jim doused the blade with alcohol before returning to kneel in front of Simon and his burden.

"Just what do you have planned, Jim?" Simon looked on skeptically.

"An episiotomy, Simon!" He took a gauze pad, soaked in alcohol, and swabbed the area around B'layr's opening. "We're going to have to make the opening larger in order to get the baby out."

"You can't just slice him open without giving him something!" Simon protested, hugging the elf closer to him.

"Look at him, Simon," Jim said, gesturing to the semi-conscious elf. "He's not going to know any different. We have to get that baby out." With that, Jim bent down and made a small cut through tissue and muscle. B'layr flinched slightly and moaned, but it was his only reaction.

"Okay. At the next contraction, push and don't stop, no matter what," Jim instructed.

Simon took a deep breath, feeling for the beginning of the muscular cramping. He bore down with increasing pressure as Jim called out encouragement.

"That's it, Simon. Keep it up. I can see the baby.... He's coming...." When the tiny butt presented itself once more, Jim forced his fingers into the enlarged opening, to either side of the small hips. "Push, Simon!"

Simon bore down despite the whimpering protests from the patient.

"Got him!" Jim shouted with joy as he pulled the baby out, wiping him down and tying off the cord. He used the knife to cut through the thick umbilical, then cleaned the baby's airway and slapped him soundly on the back. When that didn't bring the expected response, he blew two shallow puffs of air into the tiny lungs. Spitting and crying, the newborn announced his distress. Jim wrapped the tiny bundle and laid him on a pile of towels.

"Almost done," Jim told Simon. "Still feeling the contractions?"

"Yeah, but they aren't very strong anymore," Simon replied.

"That's okay. They don't have to be. A gentle push on the next one, okay?" Simon complied, and the placenta was expelled. Jim wrapped the afterbirth and set it aside, not knowing what B'layr's customs were regarding it. He got up again, and hurried into the kitchen to wash up. He then sorted through B'layr's herbs; looking for the leaf he had chewed to stop the bleeding when he'd been shot with the arrow last year. Recognizing the leaf by its pungent scent, he brought a few over, along with a glass of water.

Simon was wiping B'layr down with a damp washcloth. "He doesn't look so good, Jim. I'm worried."

Jim just nodded and concentrated on his patient. He stroked B'layr's cheek, lifting his chin to get a better look at the exhausted face. His eyes were nearly closed, but a narrow slit of blue shown through. "B'layr, are you still with me? The baby's fine. Now I need to take care of you." He brought the glass of water to the elf's lips and tipped it slightly, letting a small amount drizzle into the parted lips. Water dripped down B'layr's chin, but he managed to swallow a little. Encouraged, Jim offered more. When B'layr reached for the glass, Jim had to push his hand away. "Not too fast, Sweetheart. Just a little at a time. I need you to chew these leaves for me, okay? They're the ones to stop the bleeding. We have to get the bleeding stopped. Do you understand?" B'layr nodded, and Jim pressed the leaves into his mouth. Slowly, the elf began to chew. Jim checked the bleeding, and was pleased to see the opening was nearly closed off. The episiotomy cut was still bleeding lightly. Jim cleaned the area again, and sat back on his haunches.

"Now we have to try and get them both upstairs," he said. "Think you'll be able to stand, Simon?"

"I don't know," the captain replied. "It's been a while since I spent this much time on the floor."

Jim stood and eased B'layr out of his captain's lap, using a folded towel to pillow his head. He then grabbed Simon by both hands and pulled the larger man to his feet. "Think you could carry B'layr for me?" he asked, scooping up the crying bundle near his feet.

Simon lifted the elf in his arms. B'layr seemed almost childlike cradled in the large, strong arms. He followed Jim up the stairs to the loft bedroom, and settled his charge in the large bed.

Jim pulled the covers up over the shivering elf and placed the bundled baby in his arms. He pulled the leather thong from B'layr's ponytail, releasing the mass of sweat-dampened curls. He bent down to kiss B'layr on the forehead. "You doing okay?" he whispered. The elf nodded weakly. Jim took that as a sign he could leave long enough to see his captain out.

"Thanks for coming, Simon," Jim said, his voice reflecting his exhaustion. "I really couldn't have done it without you."

"It was an experience," Simon agreed. "Not one I'd like to repeat, but I'm glad I could help."

"Without you, I would have lost them both," Jim said seriously. "I owe you big time. Anything, any time ... just ask."

"You just take care of yourself and your family," Simon answered. "You do that, and we're even."

"Thanks." No other words needed to be spoken.

Simon smiled at his friend and turned to leave. "Call me when you're rested. Let me know how they're doing." He walked out the door, pulling it closed behind him.

Jim engaged the locks, and headed wearily toward the stairs to his bedroom.

He stripped and climbed into bed, careful not to disturb its sleeping occupants. He spooned loosely against the smaller body, wrapping a protective arm across B'layr's chest. The slight tension in the elf's body relaxed at Jim's touch, and the Sentry found himself drifting into an exhausted slumber.

~oO0Oo~

When Jim woke the next morning, it was to find intense blue eyes watching him. "Well, good morning, Sunshine!" He smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. "You're looking better this morning."

A smile slowly lit the still-tired features. "I have felt better, but I am happy to be alive. Thank you." B'layr reached out to cup Jim's cheek with his hand. "You have given me a great gift."

Jim peeled back the terrycloth towel still swaddling the newborn. A few dark curls graced the diminutive head, and delicate ears swept to tiny points. "He's beautiful."

"He is ours." B'layr traced the miniature features with a finger. "And he will bring your Gift back to my people."

Jim let a hand slide down B'layr's flat chest, brushing the dusty nipples. "How will you feed him?"

"Elven babies do not need to feed for two to three days after birth," B'layr explained. "They have enough nutrients from the Bearer's body to last them that long. By then, my milk should be in."

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Every time B'layr mentioned taking the Gift back to his people, Jim felt a stab of fear.

B'layr's head dropped, unable to meet Jim's eyes. "I must return to the forest." He looked up; unshed tears making his eyes shine. "I do not wish to leave you, but I cannot abide the city any longer, and my people need the child. You could come with me!" The hope that shown suddenly from his eyes was dashed seconds later.

"I don't wish for you to leave," Jim practically begged, "but I can't come with you. I'm not ready. There's still too much for me to do here. Stay. Please stay. I'll find a way to make it work. We'll spend weekends camping. Whatever you need. Just stay."

"L'anin stayed and the Gift was lost," B'layr reminded him. "This is too important. I must return."

Jim was stricken. "When?"

"Soon, but not today, or tomorrow. I must heal and regain my strength." B'layr gazed down at the dainty features of the sleeping child, then up at Jim. "I will call him L'anin, after our common ancestor. He who took the Gift from us, will now return it."

Jim nodded his approval of B'layr's choice. "Are you hungry?"

"Famished!" B'layr grinned up at him.

"Let me see what I can find to your liking." He crawled out of bed and slipped into his robe, then padded softly down the stairs. He returned soon after with a tray laden with the strange assortment B'layr preferred from his Chinatown shopping, and a couple ripe tomatoes.

B'layr began to nibble eagerly at the offering. "I am going to miss these," he said, picking up a tomato and biting in, letting the juice drip down his chin.

"You don't have to leave." Jim spoke softly, knowing the response, but wishing it were otherwise.

B'layr reached out a hand to brush against Jim's cheek. "I love you, Jim Ellison, with all my heart. Never forget that. I do not wish to speak of this again. It hurts too much." With that, he turned his attention to his meal.

~oO0Oo~

The following day, B'layr made his way cautiously down the stairs. He had surrounded the baby with a wall of pillows in the middle of the bed, and now wished to spend time with his mate.

Jim looked up in surprise from his breakfast and newspaper. "B'layr!" He stood rapidly, hurrying over to assist the elf onto the couch. "You shouldn't be up yet."

"I am still a little sore, but I am fine, Jim," B'layr assured him. "I need to move around. I need to get clean."

Jim had dialed back his sense of smell over the past twenty-four hours. B'layr still reeked of sweat and birthing, but had been too weak to bathe. "I still need to shower, myself. Let me help you."

The elf smiled up at him. "I would like that." He tried to rise from the soft cushions, but fell back again. Jim stood and pulled B'layr to his feet, guiding him toward the bathroom.

Jim started the water, waiting for it to warm. He hung his robe on the back of the bathroom door and stripped off his boxers. "Before we get in, I'd like to check and see how well you're healing."

Without protest or modesty, B'layr bent over, grabbing his ankles and spreading his feet, presenting his backside as requested. Still slighted abashed by the elf's complete lack of embarrassment where it came to his body, Jim approached and gingerly checked the healing episiotomy cut. He was again astounded by the healing abilities of B'layr's race. The flesh had knit back together, leaving only a slightly swollen, tender scar.

"It looks good." He pulled B'layr upright, and helped him into the shower. The elf stood under the cascade of water, his back to the showerhead and Jim.

Lathering up his hands, Jim began a gentle cleansing. He started with a shoulder massage and worked his way down B'layr's chest, enjoying the feel of the springy hair beneath his fingertips and the tight nubs of erect nipples. His hands glided over the still slightly rounded abdomen, amazed by the return to almost normal size so quickly. B'layr leaned back against him with a sigh of pleasure as Jim's fingers caressed his genitals, cleaning him with gentle care.

Jim worked his way down B'layr's right leg, then back up his left, enjoying the feel of the round globes of the elf's buttocks as he worked his way slowly back up to the shoulders. After rinsing his mate thoroughly, he poured the shampoo into his palms and began to work it to a lather in the long, rich curls.

B'layr turned to face Jim, tilting his head up for a kiss. Jim met the full lips with a passion he hadn't allowed himself to feel since before B'layr's labor had begun. He continued to massage B'layr's scalp, running his fingers through the silken tangles, as the elf's tongue darted out to taste all the corners of Jim's mouth.

Jim felt himself harden, unable to resist the siren call of the elven body, even knowing it was too soon after the birth to be thinking such carnal thoughts. B'layr's hand slipped between their bodies, fingers wrapping tightly around the hard column of flesh. Jim began to thrust into the fist, unwilling to forego the pleasure of being loved by his soulmate.

He came with a cry, almost collapsing under the weight of his climax. B'layr held him upright, musical laughter sounding in his ear. He shook his head like a dog just out of water, delighting as the lather spattered Jim's face and chest.

Jim wrapped his arms around the playful sprite, pulling him under the spray so he could rinse out the shampoo. He finished up his own shower, and then helped B'layr out of the tub, drying him off and wrapping him in the white terrycloth robe.

After depositing his charge on the couch, Jim dashed upstairs to get dressed. L'anin was just waking, so Jim brought the child downstairs when he had finished dressing. Exhausted by his escapades in the shower, B'layr was sound asleep when Jim returned. He sat down next to his love and gathered him into his arms, with the baby cradled between them. Here was the family he had dreamed of having. Here were his heart and his soul. He didn't want to conceive of life without them, knowing that all too soon that would be his reality.

~oO0Oo~

Jim came back from shopping to find B'layr curled up on the couch, L'anin held to his chest. The robe B'layr had worn, and the towel that had served as the baby's swaddling blanket, were both on the floor. B'layr's eyes were closed, and he was humming softly.

Jim came to sit next to his family, leaning close to get a good look at the nursing child. L'anin had a firm hold of one teat and was suckling with a vengeance. B'layr opened his eyes and smiled at Jim. "He was hungry."

"I can see that," Jim chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "I still can't believe that you're producing enough to feed him."

"He does not need much," B'layr reminded him. As he spoke, L'anin let go of the nipple with a loud smack.

Jim couldn't help but notice the redness of the tender bud, and leaned down to kiss the abused nipple.

B'layr smiled at him, but the warmth of the gesture did not reach his eyes, which reflected a deep sadness. "It is almost time," he said softly. "I am healed. The baby thrives. It is time to return."

"No!" Jim couldn't believe his ears. B'layr had given birth only three short days before. The love between them was blossoming again, with the promise of an active sex life so near. "You can't go yet. Please."

"I think tomorrow would be best," the elf told him. "We will go then."

"But I just bought a bassinet for the baby to sleep in!" Jim protested.

"It is best you do not bond too closely with the child, or he to you." B'layr dropped his eyes, concentrating on the infant. "I am sorry, Jim. Whatever you must think of me for doing this, know that it hurts me, too."

That night, they made love with a tender passion, the first joining of their bodies since that fateful forest meeting almost a year ago. The baby slept soundly in his new bed, while his parents expressed their love with an urgency born of the knowledge that this could be their final bonding.

~oO0Oo~

They stood under a canopy of trees, not far from the previous year's campsite. B'layr was staring off into the green of the woods, while Jim's eyes were focused on the elf.

Taking a deep breath, B'layr turned to his soulmate, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I promise L'anin will know his father," he said, clutching a photograph of Jim to his chest. "I will tell him the stories of how we met, of my journey to your world, of his miraculous birth. And I will not forget you, my heart ... never, for so long as I live."

"Will I ever see you again?" Jim asked, hanging onto the slender hope.

"I do not have the gift to see the future, but if it is within my power to do so, we will be together again." The baby wiggled in his arms, letting out a wail of hunger. "I must go," B'layr said with regret. "My people await the reunion." He kissed Jim with a passionate hunger, leaving the Sentry stunned. "Remember me." And with that, he melted into the forest.

Jim stood for a long while, sighting the movement with his keen vision, until even his gift failed him and B'layr disappeared from his world....

THE END