One More Chance

by Morgana

Email: morganalebeau@yahoo.com

Fandom: The Sentinel

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Jim/Blair

Summary: Blair is diagnosed with hypoglycemia which complicates their lives

Warning: Alternate Universe

Disclaimer: The Sentinel is a creation by Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo and belongs to Paramount Pictures, Pet Fly Productions & UPN.

ONE MORE CHANCE

by Morgana

"A bacterial pneumonia?" Jim's probing glance traveled from a sleeping Blair to Doctor Anthony, who was treating Blair while he was at Cascade General Hospital. The middle-aged doctor seemed concerned and Jim shared the other man's feelings. "I should have sent him back when he followed me to Sierra Verde! It was obvious that he was hanging in there by the skin of his teeth, but... maybe I chose not to see it."

They'd returned from Mexico 36 hours ago and Jim had simply dragged Blair off to see their doctor when the congestion in his partner's lungs had gotten worse. Doctor Philips had put Blair on antibiotics and Jim had hoped those meds would work, but after *another* severe coughing fit, Jim had rushed Blair to Cascade General Hospital where Doctor Anthony had examined a nearly unconscious Blair. Jim knew Doctor Anthony well and trusted the physician as he had tended to Blair's injuries on other occasions.

"Yes, a bacterial pneumonia, I'm afraid so," Doctor Anthony confirmed. "It's attacking his lungs and he needs to stay for observation. I don't want to release him yet."

Jim thoughtfully nodded his head and felt thankful that Blair was deeply asleep due to some new medication. Blair had been trying to clear his lungs all the way over to the hospital and the effort had drained him. His partner needed the rest after going non-stop in Sierra Verde.

"How long must he stay?" Jim gently rested his right hand on Blair's brow, caressing the hot and sticky skin. The nasal cannula made it easier for Blair to breathe and the younger man moaned softly.

"Twenty-four hours at least," Doctor Anthony replied and studied Blair's chart briefly. "You do realize that this is a direct result from drowning a week ago?" He'd been the doctor on call when they'd brought Blair in and he'd been monitoring Blair's recovery ever since. "The fountain water contained a high amount of bacteria."

Feeling guilty for his past mistakes, Jim sighed deeply. "I know that, doctor," he admitted and his solid voice cracked. On their way back from Mexico Blair had been exhausted and he'd dragged Blair into his truck and had taken him home. During the entire ride Blair had been quiet and Jim had missed his partner's chatter. Only Blair's coughing had disturbed the eerie silence.

Blair had remained quiet during the elevator ride and when Jim had finally opened the door to the loft, Blair had stood motionless in the doorway. In the end, Jim had pulled Blair inside and guided him into his old room. Then the first coughing fit had hit Blair and Jim had hovered over him, making sure he lay down and got some sleep only to drag his partner off to see Doctor Philips one hour later.

Now, thirty-six hours later, they were at the hospital and Jim wondered what had possessed him to kick Blair out of the loft a week ago. If he'd kept his guide close none of this would have happened. Blair wouldn't have died and they wouldn't have drifted apart.

"Why don't you come back tomorrow, Detective Ellison?" Doctor Anthony had realized a long time ago that the policeman liked to sit with his partner, but this time he wouldn't allow it. Blair needed rest and by the looks of it, so did Jim Ellison.

"Please call me when he wakes up? I'd also like to be informed of any change in his condition." Jim felt reluctant to turn away from his partner. Seeing Blair hurt brought back visions of the shot wolf morphing into his guide and the memories woke a deep ache inside his soul.

"We've got your phone number," Doctor Anthony assured Jim and gently took the policeman by the arm to lead him into the corridor. "Blair's in the best hands and will probably be asleep all night."

Putting one foot in front of the other seemed an impossible task, but Jim walked mechanically down the corridor. His heightened sense of hearing still picked up on Blair's steady heartbeat and he listened to the soft thumping until he'd left the hospital. After getting into his truck, he stared at his hands and realized they were shaking.

"Damn it! How many more times do I have to I face losing him before... before admitting how much he means to me?" Blair had grown on him over the years and his partner had become the rock on which he had rebuilt the fragments of his ruined life. Suddenly, he had friends again, was dating, and had fellow policemen that would watch his back and he owed it all to Blair Sandburg.

"And how do I repay him for putting my life back together? I kick him out of the loft, allow him to tag along in Sierra Verde when I know that he's feeling miserable and I kiss Alex in front of him! Way to go, Ellison!"

After he'd brought Blair back from the other side, he'd hoped that he'd find the courage to finally open up to Blair and tell him how important the younger man was to him, but instead he'd put up his walls and was still hiding behind them.

Closing his eyes, he recalled Blair collapsing in the kitchen only two hours ago. Blair had been trying to drink some water when a gruesome coughing fit had racked his body. He'd barely been in time to steady Blair and keep his partner from hitting the kitchen floor. Blair had protested when he'd supported the younger man as they'd made their way over to the truck, but Jim had refused to listen and had driven to Cascade General Hospital.

"Thank God that I didn't listen to you, Chief." If he had given in to Sandburg, his partner's condition would have gotten worse. Now, Doctor Anthony could keep a close eye on him.

After starting the engine he drove back to the loft. He intended to get some sleep, take a shower and return to the hospital in the morning. Hopefully Doctor Anthony had better news for him by then.

*

"Hello, Blair, I'm glad you decided to wake up." Doctor Anthony smiled reassuringly at his patient. Blair lifted his right hand, which trembled badly, and tried to remove the nasal cannula. "Don't do that," Doctor Anthony stated firmly. "You're having difficulty breathing and they'll help."

Confused, Blair cocked his head. "Hospital?" he mumbled at a loss. The last thing he remembered was walking into the kitchen to get himself a drink. "How... did I get here?"

"Your partner, Detective Ellison, brought you in several hours ago." Doctor Anthony kept a close eye on the monitors. Blair's condition was stable, but his patient wasn't out of the woods yet.

"What's going on... with me?" Blair's eyes rolled in their sockets and he found it difficult to stay awake.

"You're suffering from a bacterial pneumonia, which is attacking your lungs. I put you on antibiotics," the doctor explained patiently. "And that's making you drowsy. You need rest, Blair, no more running around in the Mexican jungle, you hear?"

Exhausted, Blair tried to nod his head, but failed. "Jim?" He didn't see Jim around and wondered about the Sentinel's whereabouts.

"I sent him home," Doctor Anthony said with a hint of smugness in his voice. "He'd only hover over you and you need some peace and quiet to recover."

"How long... do I have to I stay?" Blair closed his eyes and realized that Doctor Anthony was right. The nasal canulla eased his breathing.

"If you react well to your new medication I'll let you go tomorrow evening." Doctor Anthony knew that Jim Ellison, as a former medic, could handle any medical care that Blair might need. "Why don't you go back to sleep, Blair?" he suggested and checked the IV, which was feeding his patient nutrients and liquids.

"Sounds tempting, man... hope you don't mind me following up on your... advice," Blair mumbled as he dozed off.

Doctor Anthony made another entry on Blair's chart and then left the room, knowing that the night nurse would closely monitor Blair. Should his patient get worse she would immediately notify him.

*

Blair vaguely realized that he was dreaming when he stepped back into the jungle to follow the wolf. When he'd been dead, he'd been the wolf and he'd been running through the jungle, carefree and vibrant, but then the jaguar had pulled him back. Now, he was running again, but this time the wolf was at his side, playfully running along.

He lost track of time and when he woke up he had no idea how long he'd been asleep. Opening his eyes, he found that he was alone in the room. Neither the nurse, nor Doctor Anthony was close and he sighed relieved. Everything that had happened last night was a blurry mess, but he did remember Doctor Anthony mentioning that Jim had taken him to the hospital.

Feeling strangely emotional, his heart ached in an odd way as he recalled Jim telling him to leave the loft. Although Jim had taken him to the loft when they'd gotten back, the words still echoed in his mind, adding to his emotional pain.

'I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to analyze it. I just need you out of here by the time I get back.'

Those words had cut deep and the wounds were still bleeding. Blair pulled the blanket tighter around his body and let his mind drift back to the bullpen, when Jim had managed to hurt him once again.

Blair curled himself into a ball, wondering how the hell he should have known that Alex was a criminal. Except for Jim she was the only other Sentinel he'd come across. //No, that's the wrong word,// he thought. //Alex never was a Sentinel. She possesses heightened senses, but never felt the need to protect the tribe.//

Unexpectedly, something Jim had said slammed into his mind, opening raw wounds that had never healed properly.

'Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa. I know who I am, okay? I don't need you or anybody else to help me define that. Is that clear? Maybe it's just better if you finish your dissertation or doctorate writing about somebody else.'

Blair buried his face in his hands and fought back his tears by sheer determination. //Maybe Jim's right. Maybe I should start working on the closed society diss and forget about publishing the Sentinel dissertation. I don't want us to fight about this.// But publishing the Sentinel diss was his dream, his life work and he couldn't give up on it like that. What if there were other people with 5 heightened senses? By reading his diss they would realize how incredible gifted they were and maybe the diss would help them come to terms with having those heightened senses. He couldn't let his dream die for he would die with it.

He gasped as another memory cut through his mind.

'Chief, I don't know if I'm ready to take that trip with you.'

Yeah, Jim had made his decision after the EMT's had rushed Blair to the ER. Jim had ended their friendship right there in a subtle way, but he'd known what Jim really tried to say. Their friendship, the Sentinel-Guide relationship, was over, had come to a brutal end. //Let's face it. He no longer needs me. Jim controls his senses perfectly and hasn't zoned in weeks. Maybe it's time to move on.//

When Jim had taken him to the loft after Sierra Verde, Blair had briefly hoped that he had come home. Instead, Jim had turned more distant and he'd felt like Jim could kick him out again at any moment. He'd no longer felt safe there, became restless and then this bacterial pneumonia had hit his weakened system, rendering him helpless when he tried to survive another coughing fit.

//Moving on,// he mused. //Even if I wanted to move out I'm in no condition to do it now. I don't have the energy to find a new place to live, to move my stuff and... I'd be alone again.// Jim had been the best roommate he'd ever had, even if the cop had dumb house rules. He would miss Jim, the loft, watching TV together, hearing Jim curse when he'd left the bathroom a mess. //I let myself believe that the loft was home, big mistake! I should have known better!//

Jim had given him the home he'd craved his entire life. Although he loved Naomi, as a child he'd hated her vagabond way of life, travelling from one place to another. Whenever he'd made friends Naomi would announce that they were leaving and that he had to pack his stuff. Sometimes, their landlord packed their things for them because Naomi had forgotten to pay rent.

Blair shivered slightly, recalling the few times that Naomi had smoked pot and had forgotten about him. He would sit in the corner of the room and watch her and her 'friends' get high. Sometimes someone would remember that he was still around and tell him to go play outside or go to his room.

He'd really missed a dad growing up. Naomi had always avoided discussing his father and eventually he'd stopped asking. Finding his father was his secret wish, his greatest desire. But somewhere along the line that dream had faded, knowing that he'd never learn his father's identity without Naomi's help. She was the only one who knew his father's identity and she refused to tell him.

For years he'd pretended that he was happy with the way his life had turned out. He was a TA at Rainier and about to finish his diss after finding a real Sentinel, but said Sentinel was also the reason why he felt so miserable and depressed. He wanted Jim's friendship so badly that he would gladly lay his life down to get it back. But Jim wanted a partner he could trust and Blair realized that it was time to move on and make way for his successor, a man or woman who would be the guide Jim really needed, not some nerdy grad student who kept attracting trouble.

"Blair? Are you all right?" Nurse Matthews had closely monitored her patient's readings from the nurses' station and when the readings skyrocketed she'd decided to check on him.

Blair forced himself to open his eyes and to meet her gaze. "Just a little tired," he said, telling her a white lie and hoping that the answer would appease her. He wasn't up to a verbal fight.

Nurse Matthews approached the bed and looked into his eyes. Blair smiled. She was pretty and attractive and several months ago he would have asked her out on a date, but he'd found the one he wanted to share the rest of his life with. Too bad that he was too much of a coward to tell Jim how he truly felt about the Sentinel.

"Can I get you something?" Nurse Matthews offered, seeing a hint of unshed tears in Blair's blue eyes. It was obvious that the young man felt sad and depressed, but she didn't pressure him in to talking.

"Some water would be really great," Blair replied, falling back into his role and hiding behind his walls. He didn't want anyone to see the real Blair Sandburg, who was tired, fed up with life and lacked the strength to carry on. No, he would play his part and not be a burden.

"Sure," Nurse Matthews mumbled and filled a glass with water. She handed him the glass and Blair accepted it. "Sip slowly," she adviced.

"Thanks." Blair slowly emptied the glass and handed it back to her. "What time is it?"

"Almost 7 AM," she told him and smiled. "Looks like the meds are working."

Only now did Blair realize that his lungs no longer felt that congested and that it was easier to take deep breaths.

"Try to get some more sleep," she suggested and tucked the blanket around his form. "The next time you wake up the doctor will be here. I also got this feeling that your friend might visit."

"Jim?" Blair smiled weakly. "Does everybody here know about him?"

Nurse Matthews chuckled softly. "I guess so. He's handsome."

Blair returned the chuckle and closed his eyes, slowing drifting off into sleep.

*

Doctor Anthony studied the latest readings and realized that he had to talk to Blair. He'd planned on giving Detective Ellison a call, telling him that Blair would be released this afternoon, but now he was inclined to postpone releasing Blair.

As he headed for Blair's room, he encountered nurse Matthews, who was on her way home. "How's Blair today?" he inquired and fell into step beside her.

"I'm worried," she said honestly. "He drowned a week ago and now he's back with a bacterial pneumonia. What if there will be more complications?"

"There might be," Doctor Anthony replied. "I'm going through his latest readings right now."

"Any cause for alarm?"

"Not yet," he said, reassuring her. "I'm going to talk to him now."

"Will he be released today?"

"This evening," he informed her and turned left. "Let's hope we won't see him in here again for a long time."

After nodding her head, nurse Matthews headed for her car. Working the night shift always tired her.

*

Blair was staring at the ceiling when Doctor Anthony entered his room. He hated lying around like this and hoped the doctor would release him today. //Hopefully no one heard me cough earlier.// If they had, they might want to keep him here for observation.

Meeting Doctor Anthony's eyes, Blair said, "I already feel better, doc. So when can I leave? Did I already tell you how much I hate hospitals? I spent way too much time here and..." Another coughing fit rocked his body.

"Don't overdo it," Doctor Anthony said and pulled up a chair. He sat down next to Blair's bed and waited for the coughing fit to pass. "You're still recovering, Blair."

"My body just reminded me," Blair panted the words softly. He pushed deeper in to the comfort of the bed and tried to relax. His lungs seemed to be fighting him and he tried to clear them again.

"Before I sent you home there is something we need to discuss." Doctor Anthony adjusted the nasal cannula that had moved out of its proper position. "I got the lab results from the blood work we did when you were admitted."

"Blood work?" Blair repeated, surprised. He recalled that they'd taken some blood samples and by the looks of it, they had found something disturbing.

"You blood sugar level is too low. Have you been eating regularly?"

Blair's eyes grew big. "Uh, doc, I didn't have much time to eat when we were in Sierra Verde."

"What about before that?"

"My life's pretty hectic," Blair explained. "I spent a lot of time at Rainier and when I'm off from the U I'm at the PD... sometimes I don't have the time to eat."

"What about stress?" Doctor Anthony continued.

"Stress?" Blair shook his head in disbelief. "I don't remember a time without it!"

"Alcohol?"

"A beer," Blair said, still stunned at the direction this conversation was taking. "Maybe two if there's a game on."

"Have you ever experienced numbness in your hands and feet?" Doctor Anthony knew he was on to something when Blair flinched.

"Come on, man, it's always cold in Cascade... of course my hands feel numb when I forget to put my mittens on. And my feet, let's not go there... popsicles." Blair stared into the doctor's eyes. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Listen, Blair," Doctor Anthony started, "you've got to take these symptoms serious or they might get worse. Hypoglycemia can cause serious effects. Untreated low blood sugar can result in seizures and can also cause unconsciousness. If it goes untreated this condition can kill. I'll give you a diet plan, which lists fast acting sugars and the amount you should eat to make sure that your blood sugar remains balanced. I want you to see your regular doctor and he might prescribe some additional meds. You've got to take this serious, Blair."

Feeling uncomfortable, Blair averted his eyes. "I'll try to stick to the food plan," he promised. "But sometimes I don't have the time to..."

"Make the time, Blair," Doctor Anthony said in a firm tone. "I'm also going to give you some special brochures on hypoglycemia. Read them!" He got back to his feet and hoped that his patient realized the seriousness of his condition. "You already experienced some symptoms in the past. Ignore them now and you'll find yourself back in the ER within weeks!"

Blair swallowed hard. Doctor Anthony seemed sincerely worried.

"While you're here we'll monitor your blood sugar and do more tests. I'll also prescribe a glucometer, with which you can test your blood sugar." Doctor Anthony probed Blair's eyes and found that he'd startled his patient; that had never been his intention. "Blair, we need to stay on top of this."

"Uh-huh," Blair muttered and fumbled with the corner of the blanket. "Will the bacterial pneumonia have a negative affect on me having... hypoglycemia?"

"The antibiotics you're taking might have some side effects. We'll have to wait and see. Just make sure that you check with your regular doctor within twenty-four hours after leaving here."

"I understand," Blair mumbled, feeling miserable and helpless. "I didn't do it on purpose," he said in a tiny tone.

"I know that," Doctor Anthony assured him. "But we've got to be careful."

"Doc? Do me a favor?" Blair sought out the doctor's eyes. "Don't tell Jim about the low blood sugar."

"Why not?"

"He'd freak..." Blair stifled a grin. "He might feel guilty that I drowned and he's already giving me a hard time about my health. I don't want him to hover around me the entire time, making sure that I eat..."

Doctor Anthony considered the request. "I wish you would tell him, Blair. Should your blood sugar drop drastically you'll need help. Jim should know what he's dealing with."

"I'll think about," Blair promised, but without conviction. "I don't want to be a burden," he whispered. "And I'll be moving out shortly anyways so why should I tell Jim? He won't be around."

"Moving out?" Doctor Anthony disliked seeing the slumped shoulders and defeated expression on his patient's face.

"Yeah, it's time to move on, you know? I'm 30 years old and still living with a roomie. It's time to get my own place."

Doctor Anthony read between the lines and wondered what had happened between the two men. "Does Jim want you to move out? He was quite protective of you when you overdosed on the Golden years ago."

Blair smiled; he'd almost forgotten that doctor Anthony had treated him back then as well. "Things change... people change," he added apologetically. "Stuff happens and people drift apart."

"Blair, why don't you talk to him? I'm sure that whatever is wrong can be fixed." When Jim had brought Blair in Doctor Anthony had seen the expression in the detective's eyes. Ellison had been worried and scared.

"Jim doesn't do talking," Blair said and carefully shrugged his shoulders. He was trying to move as little as possible, afraid to set off another coughing fit.

"I hope you'll tell him about your low blood sugar." Doctor Anthony walked towards the door as he had other patients to visit.

Blair remained silent and sighed after the doctor had closed the door behind him. Could he tell Jim? Should he tell the Sentinel that he might have to slow down and take the time to eat meals regularly? How would Jim react?

//Hey, Jim, stop the car chase. I'm not feeling that great... must be the low blood sugar. I need to eat something...// Ha! The suspect would give them the slip while Jim was searching for some candy bars and Jim would be howling mad that their suspected had escaped.

//Or what about reducing stress? Sorry, Jim, can't ride along with you right now. I just tested my blood sugar and I need to take a break, eat and drink something... maybe nap.... yeah, that would go over well with Jim!//

No, he couldn't take that risk. Right now, their relationship, (or what was left of it), was too fragile to endanger. He'd hang in there and be there for Jim to guide him. //Yeah, like he needs a guide!//

"Can't tell him," Blair decided. One way or the other, he would deal with this alone.

*

"Are you ready to get out of here, Darwin?" Jim suddenly realized how little he'd used that particular nickname lately and when he walked into Blair's room he saw surprise on his partner's face at hearing it. Jim smiled; Blair was sitting on the bed and his legs moved nervously, like he couldn't wait to be sprung from this 'prison'.

//Some things never change,// Jim thought, feeling melancholy. Had Blair been this eager to leave the hospital so he could follow him to Sierra Verde? The medical staff should have stopped the younger man, considering the condition he'd been in.

"Yeah, can't stand this place any longer," Blair quipped and jumped to his feet. "Let's go to the loft."

Jim involuntarily flinched. Only a few weeks ago Blair would have called the loft 'home'. Apparently, some things did change and he was to blame for those changes. "I'll drop you off at home," Jim started and grabbed the overnight bag he'd packed before taking Blair to the hospital, "I've got a late stake out tonight..."

Blair repressed a sigh. That meant they would be up all night and tomorrow he had a class to teach at 0900 AM. It didn't look like he would get any sleep tonight. "A new case?" he inquired, as he fell into step beside Jim.

Jim walked slowly. His hearing picked up on the still congested lungs and troubled breathing. Maybe he should talk to Doctor Anthony or give him a call later. Wasn't it too soon to release Blair? "Yeah, I'll fill you in later. Let's get you home first."

Nurse Matthews, who had just come back on duty, called after them, "Blair, don't forget to get your prescriptions filled!"

Blair halted in his tracks and felt slightly embarrassed. He knew he should get them filled, but didn't want Jim hovering over his medication. "Why don't you warm up the truck? Looks like it's cold outside. It'll only take a moment to get those prescriptions filled."

Jim gave his partner a thoughtful glance. If he didn't know any better he'd say that Blair was trying to get rid of him. "Why don't *you* head for the truck and let *me* take care of those prescriptions?" Blair's heartbeat quickened and Jim wondered what was going on. Blair was acting in an odd way, almost being secretive about his prescriptions.

Blair patted Jim on the shoulder and headed down the stairs to drop by at the pharmacy. "I can take care of myself, Jim. Don't baby me. I'm a grown man, in case you hadn't noticed." Although Jim's behavior didn't really annoy him, Blair pretended frustration and left Jim standing in the middle of the corridor. "After I dropped off the overnight bag I'll be ready to join you on that stake out," he added. In spite of the growing distance he knew Jim would hear him.

Jim shook his head at hearing Blair's words. "I didn't plan on letting you tag along, Chief," he mumbled, knowing that Blair couldn't hear him. "You need rest." But if Blair were determined to keep him company through the cold and lonely night he wouldn't refuse the offer. It was always hard to keep from zoning when he was alone on a stake out. Although he controlled his senses a lot better since Blair had stormed into his life, he still faced the occasional zone out. A fact which he tried to hide from Blair as he didn't want to worry his partner.

"Detective Ellison?" Doctor Anthony had been waiting for a chance to talk to the cop.

"Ah, yes, doctor?" Jim turned around, shook the doctor's hand and welcomed his chance to talk to Anthony before taking Blair home. "Isn't it too soon to release him? He's still congested and... I noticed that he's trembling." Only a Sentinel could detect the minor tremors coursing through Blair's body, but he'd seen them and had bit his tongue not to question Blair about it.

Doctor Anthony wished he knew whether had Blair told Jim about the low blood sugar or not. Doctor-patient confidentiality forbade him to discuss this matter without Blair's permission, but maybe he could drop some subtle hints, offer some advice. "Blair's been exhausting himself. This bacterial pneumonia could only become this strong because of his weakened immune system. You should keep a close eye on your partner."

Jim studied the physician, certain that Doctor Anthony was keeping back as the man's heartbeat was slightly off. "But the new meds you've given him are fighting the bacterial pneumonia, aren't they?"

Doctor Anthony now realized that Blair had kept silent about his low blood sugar. His hands were tied and he could only hope that Blair would find the courage to tell Jim what was going on. "Pardon me for prying, but Blair mentioned that he was moving out?"

Jim's eyes grew big. "He said *what*?"

"That things had changed between the two of you and that it was time for him to move on, to get his own place." Doctor Anthony caught sight of Blair's form as the younger man turned around the corridor and wished he'd had more time to talk to Jim Ellison. "You should talk to him, make him open up!" he adviced and then focused on his patient. "Remember to check with your regular physician," he reminded Blair and saw the draped expression in those normally so lucid eyes.

"Why?" Jim's glance shifted from Anthony to Blair. "Why do you need to see Doctor Philips?"

"He'll monitor my recovery, remember?" Blair said calmly, not giving Jim an opening to start questioning him. "It's regular procedure."

Doctor Anthony shook Blair's hand and gave his patient what he hoped was a worried look. "Tell Jim," he whispered, before turning around and leaving the two men alone.

"Tell me what?" Jim felt left out and hated the feeling. Then he caught sight of the plastic bag Blair was carrying. "How many prescriptions did you get filled?"

"Relax, Jim. They gave me some brochures on how to handle a bacterial pneumonia and breathing difficulty. It's not like these lungs will ever work 100% again," he said, covering the fact that he was carrying a glucometer. The brochures in his bag where about low blood sugar, but Jim didn't need to know. "Let's get moving." Blair began to walk towards the exit.

"Blair..."

Hearing his name, Blair froze in his tracks. Jim didn't call him by his first name that often.

"You're not hiding something from me, are you? Doctor Anthony seemed worried." Jim didn't like this one bit!

"I just want to go home, change into some clean clothes, eat something and drink some nice hot tea and then we're ready to roll. Don't make a fuss about nothing," Blair warned Jim.

Blair's tone took Jim aback. //Whatever you're hiding, Blair, I'll find out about it!// Blair's rapid heartbeat had given the anthropologist away.

*

"I'm ready!" Blair announced as he stepped into the living area. He'd quickly changed his clothes, had thrown the prescriptions on the bed and was now ready to keep Jim company during the stake out. "So what's this new case all about?"

Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Blair a stern look. "I'd rather see that you didn't tag along." Seeing Blair's crestfallen expression he added, "You should rest, not be stuck in a cold car all night." Cascade's weather was showing its ugly side. A nasty wind was blowing, rain poured from the dark sky and Jim swore he smelled snow in the air.

But Blair knew exactly what to say to get Jim off his back. "Look, I'm even bringing along my meds and some bottled water. You can stop being a mother hen, Jim. I'm fine!" Growing irritated, Blair grabbed his coat and headed for the doorway. "Now, are you coming along or do I have to call Joel to take your place?" He was treading on thin ice and he knew it.

"You're not feeling fine, Blair," Jim said in an uncharacteristically soft tone. "You died."

"And you brought me back, now cut it out!" Blair slammed the door behind, got into the elevator and waited for Jim to join him. He didn't have to wait long.

"Blair, I'm sorry, it's just... I'm worried..." Jim stared at his partner as the elevator started its descent. "We never really talked about..."

"And we're not going to talk about it now," Blair replied in an icy tone. He had to maintain this emotional distance between the two of them as he wasn't prepared to make himself ever again as vulnerable as he'd been in the past. When Jim had kicked him out and then had refused to take that trip with him, the Sentinel had killed part of Blair's dreams and hopes.

Jim noticed the racing heartbeat, the outburst of sweat and realized that Blair felt scared. "Chief, I'm sorry..."

"Stop it, right there!" Blair was losing his patience. Man, spending the next few hours cooped up in the truck sounded like hell. In the past, he'd loved to spend time with Jim, even if it had been during a stake out, trying to solve a case. "You didn't get me killed, you're not to blame and let's please move on now!"

Startled, Jim stared at Blair's angry eyes. He couldn't remember seeing his partner this enraged before. What the hell was going on? He decided not to continue this conversation, but he monitored Blair carefully as his partner sat down in the passenger's seat. Blair's behavior confused him, but he had to admit that the anthropologist had been through a lot lately. Could he blame Blair for running away and not facing the facts? He'd been avoiding talking about the drowning too. He didn't have the right to get mad at Blair because his partner wasn't ready to discuss it yet. It had taken him several days too to be able to mention his failure. //If only I hadn't told him to leave!//

Afraid to shatter the silence, Jim started the truck and drove away from the loft. This was going to be a *long* night!

*

Five hours later Jim wished he'd never allowed Blair to tag along. The cough was back, tormenting his partner's frame and he smelled the return of a low fever on Blair. "Why don't I take you home?" he offered softly. Blair had been quiet these last 5 hours and that added to his worries. Normally, the anthropologist would be happily chattering away, but this silence was unsettling and he contributed it to the fact that Blair was still ill.

"I'm fine, stop mothering me, Jim." Blair pulled his coat closer to his body and rubbed his hands, trying to warm up his icy fingers. //Why is it snowing tonight? Why couldn't it wait until we were home? What deity did I offend?//

"Shouldn't you take your antibiotics?" Jim watched closely as Blair nodded his head. His partner uncovered the vial to take out a pill, which he swallowed with some sips of bottled water. Stubbornness shone from Blair's eyes and Jim sighed softly. He bit back the habit of addressing his partner as Chief and opted for using his name instead. Maybe that would show how worried he was. "Blair, H and Rafe should arrive any moment now. I can call a cab and you could go home..."

//Home.// The word vibrated in Blair's mind. Did he dare speak his thoughts out loud? //The loft's no longer home and you know it, Jim. It was *your* home, then it was *ours* and now it's *yours* again.//

Seeing the distant expression in Blair's clouded eyes, Jim said, "Why do you want to move out?" Doctor Anthony's words had alerted him and they still had to address this. "Didn't we agree that you'd stay at the loft?" Jim had personally collected Blair's stuff from his office at Rainier while the younger man had been asleep at the loft and he'd put Blair's belongings back in their rightful places.

"*We* never agreed on that." Blair failed to lock out the hurt tone in his voice. "*You* moved *me and my things* back in and that was it, no discussion at all." And he'd let Jim move his stuff back, relieved that he had a roof above his head and no longer had to stay in his office. Alex would haunt every step he would set at Rainier.

"Look, Blair, I just assumed... uh, hoped that, you know... we'd be able to work through this." He was bad with words and he knew it, but he wanted to discuss this.

"You assume too much, Ellison," Blair whispered, wondering where this hostility was coming from. Suddenly, he became aware of his ice cold feet and hands. He'd forgotten to take his mittens with him and he wished he'd put on his boots instead of his sneakers.

Doctor Anthony's words returned to haunt him. Low blood sugar, didn't that mean eating something would put everything back in order? But they'd left the loft without packing any food and they were in the dock area, which was secluded and deserted. Only crooks hung out here at night.

Peeking at Jim's face, Blair read distress and confusion in the Sentinel's eyes. Although Jim was hard to read at times, all emotions were in the open now. He felt awfully cold and was starting to sweat; surely Jim's sense of smell would pick up it. //Maybe it's just a reaction to the antibiotics?//

He pushed his hands inside the sleeves of his coat, trying to get them warm. As his fingertips moved over the inside of his wrist, he shivered at feeling his clammy skin. Damn, it was getting colder in here. "Can you put the heater on?" he whispered, uncertain how Jim would react after being snapped at.

"Sure," Jim turned on the heater and encouraged Blair to warm his hands in front of it. "Why didn't you say you were cold?" Yes, it was chilly in here, not that cold, but he should have remembered that Blair didn't do cold well.

"I'm cold all the time," Blair muttered beneath his breath, unwillingly admitting that truth.

"It got worse since the drowning, didn't it?"

Blair ignored that comment. "H and Rafe are pulling up." Blair buried his hands beneath his armpits. The heater wasn't helping much.

"Yeah," Jim whispered, startled that he'd been so focused on Blair that he hadn't seen their car. "You stay put, Chief. I'll update them and then we're outa here."

Blair didn't protest and after Jim had left the car he curled himself into a tight ball in an effort to hold on to his fleeting body heat. Several minutes later Jim slipped behind the steering wheel again and Blair shivered as a wave of cold air rolled over him.

Worried, Jim buckled up and started the car. It was time to go home. //Blair no longer thinks of the loft as home,// he thought, feeling miserable and was determined to work hard to restore Blair's trust in him.

*

"Man, I'm beat..." Blair headed for his room, not even bothering to take off his coat. He'd been released from the hospital six hours ago and the coughing still tormented his sore lungs. "Got a class to teach at nine, so I can't sleep late," he muttered absentmindedly and fell face forward onto his bed. He ignored his growling stomach, which tried to remind that it needed food. "Too tired..."

Jim followed Blair into his room and wished he knew some magic words that would heal Blair's emotional scars. //But I can help him to get better physically,// he thought determinedly and approached Blair's bed. Thankfully his partner was already asleep and Jim proceeded to remove Blair's shoes. Gently, he rolled Blair out off his coat and then halted. Should he remove Blair's shirt and jeans too? Blair would be a lot more comfortable without them, but he didn't want to risk waking his partner unnecessarily. In the end, he decided against it and rolled Blair into the blankets, making sure he was warm.

Standing back, he studied the younger man. Fine lines of worry and pain were etched onto Blair's brow, making him look older than he really was. //He needs rest.// Jim hoped that Blair would get the time he needed to recuperate.

As his gaze traveled through the room, it came to rest on the plastic bag that Blair had brought back from the hospital and his curiosity and concern almost got the better of him, wanting to check out the contents.

//You can't spy on him!// Jim's conscience chided him. //That's private! You would hate it if he went through your personal stuff!//

"I don't know about that," Jim whispered, barely audible. Blair knew his secrets, knew his faults, his regrets. "I don't have any secrets."

//Yes, you have!// His conscience kicked back in again. //You never told him you're in love with him!//

"How can I? I made so many mistakes..." He'd let Blair down so many times in the past that he felt like he had no right to admit his feelings to the younger man. How many times had he endangered Blair's life? What about the times when he'd reacted too slowly and too late? He recalled how Lash had almost ended Blair's life and shivered. Only when he'd faced losing Blair he'd realized how attached he'd grown to the anthropologist, who'd slowly convinced him that life still was worth living. "Blair, I'm so sorry."

Blair stirred and Jim quickly grew quiet. For some reason he was unable to leave Blair alone and he felt the overwhelming urge to stay close and monitor his best friend. Giving into his worries, he used his senses to assess Blair's condition.

The first thing that caught his attention was the too rapid heartbeat. He'd picked up on the fast thumping before, but it surprised him that Blair's heart was still racing. As his hand hovered above Blair's brow he sensed the cold and clammy skin and softly brushed back some damp locks. Even in his sleep, tiny tremors rocked Blair's body, and Jim was severely tempted to check on the meds and to give Doctor Anthony a call.

//But he has to check in with Doctor Philips tomorrow and I plan on making damn sure he gets there!// Jim tucked the blankets once more around Blair's body and while he made his way upstairs, he continued to closely monitor his partner.

*

Jim woke up first the next morning and immediately honed in on Blair's vitals. The anthropologist's heartbeat was still elevated. Blair wasn't awake yet and Jim decided to make breakfast and to wait with waking Blair until they could eat.

Careful not to wake his partner, Jim tiptoed into the kitchen and made scrambled eggs, toast, squeezed some oranges and poured the fresh orange juice into their glasses. After setting the table, he walked over to Blair's room and knocked softly. "Chief? Breakfast's ready, time to rise and shine!"

A soft moan reached his ears and Jim smiled, slowly opening the French doors to Blair's room. "Come on, Chief or you'll be late."

"Late?" Blair's eyes flashed open and a coughing fit immediately reminded him to take things slow. "Shit, what's the time, man?" Sitting up carefully, he tried to clear his lungs.

"Why don't you take the day off?" Jim suggested. "You didn't get much sleep last night and you need to see Doctor Philips today."

"I'll s-squeeze him into my schedule, I p-promise," Blair whispered, trying to get to his feet. "Man, did I really go to sleep still d-dressed?"

Jim cocked his head. Was Blair's speech slightly slurred or was it just his imagination? //Maybe he isn't fully awake yet,// Jim thought, hoping things would get better during the day. "When will you be seeing Doctor Philips?" he asked and stepped aside as Blair made his way to the bathroom. "Have you been losing weight?" The question slipped from his lips unintended.

Blair coughed again and staggered into the bathroom. "Yeah, I have," he managed between coughs. "Dying does that to a m-man." Jim's mere presence annoyed him, but he couldn't figure out why. He splashed some water onto his face and undressed. He planned on taking a quick shower, slipping into some clean clothes and then leaving for Rainier. As he closed the bathroom door he whispered, "Do you need my help today? I have an awful lot of papers to grade and the deadline for posting them was f-four days ago."

Blair stepped into the shower cabin and had to steady himself by leaning against the cold wall. Man, his vision was blurry and black spots danced in front of his eyes. Maybe he should quit taking those antibiotics!

Troubled, Jim stared at the bathroom door. Blair's heart was racing and he caught the sound of flesh travelling over the cabin tiles, like Blair was steadying himself. "I'll be stuck with paperwork most of the day," he said and returned to the kitchen.

He started eating breakfast and enjoyed a cup of steaming black coffee. "I was thinking we might eat out tonight, my treat!" Feeling guilty for failing Blair when his partner had needed him most urged him to make things up to the anthropologist. "You can pick the restaurant."

"How g-generous of-f you..."

Blair's reply caught him off guard, as it wasn't the thing he expected to hear. Blair was definitely acting odd. Then he remembered that Blair had asked him what time it was. "By the way, it's almost nine."

"What? Fuck!"

Jim raised an eyebrow. Had Blair just really used the F-word? That was a first! After finishing his scrambled eggs and toast, he got to his feet and walked over to the bathroom. "Chief, I think you should call in sick today and get some rest... Talk to Doctor Philips."

"Don't tell me what to do, Jim-m!" Blair had slung one towel around his waist and another around his damp hair. He slammed the bathroom door hard behind him and headed for his room.

Stunned, Jim listened as Blair dressed and he caught the soft coughs and curses telling him that Blair wasn't feeling well at all. But showing his concern wasn't getting him anywhere, so maybe he had to play things more subtlely. "Want me to drop you off at Rainier?"

Fully dressed, Blair stormed out of his room and swung his backpack over his right shoulder. "No, I can get there m-myself."

"At least eat something before you go. Did you take your medication? Your lungs are still congested and..." Jim never got the chance to finish as Blair cut him short.

"Don't expect me to drop by the PD today, as I'll be busy grading-g. I don't know when I'll be back so don't expect m-me to show up for dinner." Blair's gaze shifted from Jim to the set table and briefly he felt bad for lashing out at Jim, seeing that the Sentinel had prepared breakfast for him. "Sorry, Jim, but I don't have the time to eat b-breakfast. I'm already running late."

Jim could only stare as Blair dashed out of the loft, closing the front door behind him. He'd listened closely and Blair's slurred speech added to his worries. "What's going on with you, Chief? Why are you doing this to yourself?" To Jim it was obvious that Blair was ignoring his needs, neglecting his body's demands and running like hell. If only he knew what his partner was running away from!

*

Okay, it might have been a mistake to skip breakfast... and lunch... and dinner. Exhausted, Blair hung in the chair behind his desk. His head rested on his forearms and sitting slumped was the only way to remain in his chair. He was having trouble breathing and sweat poured from his pores. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, causing him to feel disorientated.

"Mayve... one ov m-my... s-stutends can gat me s-samethang ta eat..." The words came out slurred, as his lips and tongue felt strangely numb. And why was his office so cold? He'd turned up the heat to the max after it had started to snow again and the snow flakes clinging to his window were melting. It had to be warm in here, so why did he feel so cold? His clothes were wringing wet with sweat.

Confused, Blair wondered why he felt this weak and what he could do to remedy it. Doctor Anthony's advice echoed in the back of his head, but didn't quite reach the rational part of his brain, which seemed to be shutting down.

Shaking violently, he tried to get to his feet. He'd left his cell phone on the windowsill; hopefully he still remembered Jim's cell phone number. Maybe the Sentinel would be inclined to pick him up and drive him home. "Should z-zee Doctet P'ilps," he mumbled and managed to get hold of the phone. Slowly, he dialed Jim's cell phone number.

//Try to sound normal!// Blair didn't know how Jim would react to his request to be driven home and didn't want to take any risks. If the Sentinel didn't have the time to pick him up, he would call a cab, but an insane urge to have Jim close overwhelmed him.

"Jim Ellison."

Just hearing Jim's voice stirred something deep inside Blair and he barely repressed a growl. Carefully pronouncing the words, he said, "Jim-m, it's b-be. Cald yau p-pick ve ub?" Frustrated, he realized that his lips weren't co-operating.

"Chief? Are you okay?" The phone connection allowed him to hone in on Blair's vitals and startled, he realized that his partner's heartbeat was way out of control. "Did something happen?"

"I v-vorgot to t-take de antiboi...antibio..." Blair couldn't wrap his lips around the word. "I d-don think I should drife 'ome."

"Are you still at Rainier?"

"My o-ovvice," Blair replied, feeling incredibly tired and he had to sit down again, afraid he might faint. His free hand dug into the armrest.

"I can be there in... ten. Stay where you are, don't try to drive home, understood?" Concerned, Jim listened carefully to Blair's labored breathing. "Do I need to call an ambulance?"

"No, just-t tate m-me 'ome," Blair said pleadingly as Jim terminated the connection. Sitting upright in his chair demanded too much energy and he slid out of it and onto the floor. Shivers were running up and down his spine and he hugged his waist tightly, holding on for Jim to get to him.

*

All the way over to Rainier Jim tried to control his concern, but failed. Blair's voice had never been that slurred before and the hair at the back of his neck stood rigid, recalling Blair's racing heartbeat. "Hold on, buddy, I'm almost there."

After parking his car, he ran up the stairs and ignored the security guard who asked what he was doing here at such late an hour. He flashed his shield and ran on. As he got closer to Blair's office he picked up on Blair's incoherent mumbling. Unable to make out any words, he sped up and raced towards Blair's office.

The last thing he expected as he opened the door was for Blair to grab him. "Blair!" Jim managed to turn around in Blair's hold and his breath caught, seeing the violent expression in his friend's eyes. Blair was sweating profusely and barely able to stay on his feet. Jim anticipated their fall and his body caught the impact as they hit the wall.

"Yu'fe gattastaydowm-m! Cam-mingferya!" Blair mumbled and tried to wrestle Jim onto the floor. "Thow-wm!"

"Chief," Jim started, "I'm here, please don't do this to me. What's wrong with you?" But the draped expression in Blair's eyes told him that the younger man no longer knew what he was doing. He should have given into his instincts and called the EMT's before heading over to Rainier. Now he had to fight off a determined Blair before he could call 911.

"It's okay, buddy, let go. I'll take care of you." Blair's strength suddenly seeped away and Jim had no trouble establishing a firm hold on his partner. "Lie down, okay? Concentrate on breathing." But Blair tried to fight back again.

"Dey'w-weafderya! Yac-n-nstay'ere!" Blair had to keep Jim safe, had to keep the Golden people, Kincaid, Lash and all the other boogiemen away. He had to protect and guard his Sentinel!

Single- handed, Jim managed to get hold of his cell phone and dialed 911. Quickly, he informed the dispatcher that he needed an ambulance and informed her of Blair's condition. The dispatcher assured him that an ambulance would arrive in less than 10 minutes and continued to ask questions, which Jim tried to answer, but Blair was still struggling and in the end the cell phone was sent flying through the office.

"Hold on, buddy, everything's going to be just fine." Jim had barely uttered those words when Blair shook violently in his arms. "Oh, no," Jim whispered, realizing that his friend was having seizures. "Blair, listen to my voice, you've got to fight this!" He was babbling and didn't care. Carefully, he held onto Blair while his friend's body contorted violently and made sure that Blair's head stayed clear of the desk. Blair didn't need a concussion on top of everything!

Jim didn't know whether he should feel relieved when the seizures ended and Blair slipped into unconsciousness. "What's going on with you, Blair? You're scaring me," he admitted honestly. He'd never seen Blair sweat like this before. The sweat poured from his body and his hair had gone from merely damp to wet. "It's going to be okay, Chief," he said, hoping his partner could hear him, but doubting that he was getting through.

A moment later two EMT's rushed into the office, asking him to step aside.

"What happened, sir?" the male EMT asked as he uncovered his equipment.

"Blair called me ten minutes ago to tell me that he wasn't feeling that well. His speech was slurred and his heart racing." Jim tried to remember all the details.

"Anything else?"

"Blair almost slammed me into the wall, rambling incoherently. Then he had seizures and passed out."

"Do you know when he last ate?" The EMT listened carefully, realizing that his patient was most probably suffering from hypoglycemia. He slipped a sugar pill into Blair's mouth, waited a moment and then ran a test to measure Blair's blood glucose.

"He skipped breakfast and I doubt he made time to eat lunch or dinner," Jim assessed, seeing the pile of graded files and not smelling any remnants of food or drinks in the office. "What's wrong with him? Why is he sweating like that?" Jim wondered if they'd have to wring out his clothes later!

"Has he ever suffered from low blood sugar before?" The female EMT asked, giving him an ampule of D50.

"Low blood sugar?" Jim repeated, confused. "Not that I know of..."

"I'm starting an infusion of dextrose 5% and 1/2 normal saline," she explained. "Once he's at the hospital they'll make him eat and monitor his blood sugar, but for now we've got to act fast."

The male EMT got the gurney and Jim helped them to place Blair on it. "Are you heading for Cascade General Hospital?" he asked, making sure.

"Yes," the female EMT replied after checking on Blair's congested lungs. "He's in a bad shape."

"I'll follow you," Jim said and hurried back to his truck. He hated leaving Blair alone, but the EMT's knew what they were doing and he would only be hampering them.

As he slid behind the wheel and keyed the ignition, he tried to calm down. His heart raced with concern for Blair. "Damn it, Chief! I should have stopped you!" As he followed the ambulance, he got out his cell phone and called Simon to tell his boss where he was headed and why.

*

"Jim, what happened?" Simon marched into the waiting area and headed for an anxiously pacing Jim Ellison. "What trouble did the kid get himself into this time?" Simon would never admit it out loud, but Jim's call had startled him. Blair Sandburg was part of his team and Simon felt responsible for every team member... not to mention that he'd discovered having some protective and fatherly feelings when it came down to the anthropologist.

"I haven't seen him since they carried him into the ambulance," Jim started, "so I don't know how he's doing right now. I can't find a doctor or nurse to give me an update. The ER must be a madhouse, considering the large number of patients that have been brought in since I got here."

"Jim, facts please!"

"He called me because he wasn't feeling well and when I got there he acted weird. In the end he was having seizures and the EMT's mentioned that Blair was probably suffering from low blood sugar, that's all I know!" At a loss, Jim started to pace again. "He was unconscious when the EMT's arrived and they started an IV."

"Low blood sugar?" Simon repeated. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Simon?"

"Look, Jim. The kid has been running himself rugged since he started to ride along. He has classes to teach, does all the grading and then there's the work he does at the PD, helping you out. I often wonder when he gets the time to eat and sleep."

"It's not that bad," Jim said, wondering why he hadn't seen that Blair was exhausting himself.

"Listen, as long as they don't know exactly what's going on with the kid I'm going to cancel his ride along privileges. It's just too dangerous for him to be out there right now. Tell him that he's on... medical leave, something like that." Simon nodded his head. "I don't want to see him at the bullpen until he's rested and everything's back under control."

"Simon, this will kill him," Jim whispered, but he agreed with his Captain, Blair needed some down time.

"But it has to be done," Simon said firmly. "You can either ride a desk until Blair's back or you take some time off yourself. You've still got several weeks left and you might want to keep an eye on our anthropologist."

"I'll tell him," Jim replied, now convinced that they were doing the right thing. "I also spoke to Chancellor Edwards. When we left Rainier the security guards notified her that Blair had collapsed. Another TA has agreed to cover his classes and with the upcoming Christmas holidays, Blair can take three weeks off, more if necessary."

"Sounds good," Simon commented and wished he could light a cigar, but hospital policy forbade it. "I take it you'll stay until the kid gets released?"

"Oh yeah, and I'm going to make sure that he slows down once we get home. Simon, I think I'll take you up on that offer and take some time off."

Simon nodded his head and his fingers itched to close around a cigar. Yes, Jim and Blair needed that down time to straighten out their relationship.

*

"What's your name?"

Blair gave the doctor a suspicious look and wished Doctor Anthony had been on call when he'd been brought in. "Blair Sandburg," he replied eventually. They had moved him to a smaller exam room, with no other patients present and he felt thankful for that. Being examined with a dying gun shot victim lying next to you was unsettling.

The doctor instructed the nurse to draw Blair's blood and then concentrated on his patient again. "Do you know what happened, Blair?"

Blair slowly shook his head. "It's kinda fuzzy." The last thing he remembered was phoning Jim and he wondered what had happened next. At times, he saw flashes of Jim holding him, talking to him, but he couldn't make sense of those brief flashes.

"Your blood sugar got dangerously low." The young doctor studied his patient. "Do you know that you suffer from hypoglycemia?"

"Doctor Anthony kinda mentioned it," Blair whispered, awkwardly. "I didn't think it was this serious."

"When did you talk to Doctor Anthony?" he asked Blair, while reading his patient's medical file.

"Yesterday," Blair admitted, embarrassed. "He explained that I had to eat and drink regularly, gave me brochures, some sort of food plan... and a glucometer."

"Have you been testing your blood sugar?"

"Didn't have the time," Blair stuttered, realizing it was his fault that he'd had seizures. He should have paid more attention to Doctor Anthony's warning. His still congested lungs protested as he tried to speak again and he coughed, trying to clear his lungs.

"Have you been taking the antibiotics?"

"I stopped, assuming they were causing all these symptoms," Blair admitted. "Now what?" He'd started to feel better after the EMT's had hooked him up to that IV and he now wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible.

"First, you're going to eat a complete meal," the doctor told Blair. "And I'll try to contact Doctor Anthony; he'll want to know what happened." Looking at the nurse, he continued, "We're going to feed our patient."

The nurse smiled, nodded her head, and left to fetch the meal.

Blair gathered his courage and asked, "Can this happen again?"

"Having seizures, fainting?" the doctor summarized.

"Yes... and I couldn't talk properly and I was seeing spots."

"Those are warning signs, Blair," the doctor explained. "You need to keep foods, which contain a high amount of sugar, like candy bars, close so when you start to feel weak you can eat something."

"I don't want to be a burden, doctor..."

"Martin, my name's Martin," the doctor replied. "The nurse will bring you something to eat in a moment and we'll continue to monitor your blood sugar. You also need to go back on antibiotics for your congested lungs and if everything works out, you can go home in a few hours."

"Hours?" Blair had barely spoken the word when another coughing bout overwhelmed him.

"Yes." Doctor Martin looked once again at his patient's chart. "You put down a certain Jim Ellison as your emergency contact. Would you like me to talk to him?"

"I guess so," Blair mumbled resigned as the nurse returned with a tray filled with food items. "He brought me in."

"Ah," Doctor Martin started and shot the nurse a glance, "so his name is Jim Ellison." The nurse had informed him that the man who'd brought Blair in was still pacing the waiting area. "Does he know about your low blood sugar?"

"No, I don't... didn't want him to know," Blair admitted, embarrassed.

"Why? Once you lose consciousness you'll need help." Doctor Martin closed Blair's file and noticed the exasperated look on Blair's face, as his patient stared at the food. "I want you to eat everything, but take your time."

Blair nodded his head, surrendering and started with some crackers. "Are you going to tell Jim?"

"Can I?" Doctor Martin took a step closer to the bed. "I can't tell him without your consent."

Blair flinched. He realized that he had probably scared the hell out of Jim and he felt guilty for trying to keep this a secret. "You can tell him."

"Thanks," Doctor Martin said, genuinely relieved. "Would you like to talk to him too?"

Blair nodded once. "I guess so."

"I'll bring him with me after I explained your condition to him, okay?" Doctor Martin saw the guilty and embarrassed expression in Blair's eyes. "Hey, there's no reason to feel ashamed. You only found out that you have hypoglycemia hours ago and you didn't take it serious. You won't make that mistake again, will you?"

"I won't." He didn't want to scare Jim like that ever again.

"Now eat and I'll go talk to your friend."

Blair watched Doctor Martin leave and then started eating.

*

"Detective Ellison?"

Jim leaped to his feet at hearing his name. "Yes?" Studying the doctor in front of him, he realized that the young man couldn't be older than 25. Lucid green eyes sparkled in greeting. "How's Blair?" His partner was all he could think about.

"Blair is feeling better." Doctor Martin walked over to some chairs and sat down.

Jim followed his lead and waited for the doctor to continue.

"Blair's currently eating a complete meal," Doctor Martin informed Jim.

"The EMT said something about low blood sugar." Jim hoped that the doctor would explain what had happened.

"The last time Blair was here Doctor Anthony found that Blair's blood sugar was too low and..."

"Too low?" Jim interrupted the other man. Blair had kept that from him!

"Yes, Blair must have been skipping meals for his blood sugar to get that low. I just read his file and he's been in here quite a few times, so I'm guessing stress is also a very prominent factor in his life."

Jim's hands clenched into fists. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Blair doesn't want to be a burden."

"Damn!" Jim cursed loudly and got to his feet. "I should have known better... and what about his lungs?"

"He stopped taking the antibiotics because he thought they were causing the symptoms. Blair's back on them now."

"What do I do?" Jim sat down again after composing himself. "How do I make sure that his blood sugar doesn't drop that dangerously again?"

Doctor Martin locked eyes with Jim. "Doctor Anthony sent Blair home with a glucometer, with which Blair can check his blood sugar. He'll have to do this twice a day, once when he wakes up and then again when he goes to sleep. Furthermore, Blair needs to eat small meals through out the day. He can't afford to go too long without some sort of food. Maybe some sort of snack/small meal every 4 hours while he's awake. I strongly advice that Blair takes time off from work."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Resolved, Jim continued, "And I'll make damn sure that I've got some snacks in our cupboards and in the truck at all times."

"You're roommates," Doctor Martin said, suddenly recalling reading that fact from Blair's file. "That's good. He'll need help and before I send Blair home. When his blood sugar drops like that again get him to eat fast acting sugars, like orange or apple juice. I'll give you a list of food items that contain fast acting sugars and a prescription for glucose tablets, which he can take when his blood sugar drops quickly. Just follow the instructions on the package."

"I was a medic in the army," Jim said, feeling grateful that he had some medical knowledge.

"Even better." Doctor Martin got to his feet. "Do you want to talk to Blair? I'm going to see him now."

"Oh, yeah, I want to talk to that stubborn..." Jim left his sentence unfinished, trying to control his concern, which tried to manifest in anger.

"Blair needs a calm and stabile environment," Doctor Martin reminded Jim. "Stress will only worsen his condition."

"I'm calm," Jim promised. "I'm not angry with him, not really... it's just..." Rambling, Jim tried to apologize for his outburst earlier.

"Blair having seizures scared you," Doctor Martin supplied.

"Yeah, it does." Oh God, he'd been so scared that Blair would die and he'd felt so damn helpless! But now that he knew what was going on with Blair he was determined to be there for his best friend and to help him recover.

*

Feeling completely stuffed, Blair slowly pushed deeper into the comfort of the bed. The nurse had just taken away the empty tray and had told him that she'd be back to get another blood sample in 15 minutes. Resigned to his fate, Blair closed his eyes and felt thankful that Jim had arrived in time to call 911. He didn't dare think about what could have happened if Jim had been late.

//I messed up... again.// Blair knew how stupid it had been to ignore Doctor Anthony's advice and he didn't really know why he'd thrown the glucometer on his bed, never giving it a second thought. //And how will Jim react?// His gut instinct told him that Jim would be concerned but also mad. Hearing Jim's voice in the distance, Blair knew it was time to face his partner.

The door opened, and Doctor Martin and Jim stepped inside. Jim's first glance was for Blair and a relieved sigh escaped his lips at seeing his partner awake. "Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?" Jim approached the bed. Probing Blair's eyes, Jim nodded his head; the blue orbs were lucid.

"Better," Blair said, awkwardly. He met Jim's eyes reluctantly. "You must be angry." While fumbling with the blanket, he averted his eyes again, feeling guilty and ashamed.

"Yeah, you know I am," Jim admitted, not even considering denying the truth. Jim pulled up a chair and straddled it. "Why didn't you tell me?" Using his heightened senses he ran a thorough check on Blair and was satisfied when he found nothing out of the ordinary, except for the still congested lungs. He handed Blair some tissues when his partner coughed up some sputum.

"Thanks," Blair muttered beneath his breath.

"Let's make this a little easier on you, Chief." Jim got to his feet, pulled Blair gently upright and let his partner rest against his chest while he fluffed the pillows. Carefully, he lowered Blair back. "Better?"

"Yeah," Blair whispered, surprised that Jim was this concerned and actually showing it.

Doctor Martin smiled, knowing that both men would be fine and he discretely left the room.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jim repeated his earlier question. "We were here only 24 hours ago... do you want to move in here permanently?" he teased.

"I'm sorry," Blair started, guiltily, "Jim, I don't know why I acted like that... I couldn't control it... no matter what you said or did it irritated the hell out of me. I know I should have told you, but..." His coughing cut him short and Blair finally sought out Jim's eyes, expecting to find anger in those blue orbs, but didn't. "I'm screwed, you know that, don't you?" he managed eventually.

"Why?" Jim gave in to the urge to touch his partner and claimed Blair's right hand. Beneath his fingertips he felt the small puncture the IV needle had left behind. "Why do you think you're screwed?"

"I'm a mess. My lungs don't work... and now I've got hypoglycemia as well... I can't work like this, can't guide you when I'm feeling this bad." Blair lowered his eyes and suddenly grew aware of Jim's fingers, which were caressing the back of his hand. "I should get out of your life, I..." Blair never got a chance to end that sentence.

"Blair," Jim said firmly and waited for Blair to meet his eyes. "You're going nowhere expect home and I'm taking some time off to help you through this." Blair was about to protest, but Jim raised his hand, effectively shutting Blair up. "You know I'm not good with words," Jim said, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. "But you need to know that I want you in my life, in the loft, in the truck sitting next to me. I need you, Blair. You came through every time I needed you and it's time I do the same thing for you. I've let you down too many times already."

"Jim..."

"No, Blair, I've got to get this off my chest." Jim kept Blair's gaze prisoner and saw the moisture in them. "I should have told you this after you drowned, while we were still in the hospital."

Blair grew silent and his eyes couldn't pull away from Jim's.

"The truth is that I was hurt and scared when I found out that you were coaching Alex. I felt betrayed. I always thought that I was your project, your Holy Grail..." Jim laughed a little at that. "When Alex appeared I felt threatened, maybe even jealous that you were spending time with her."

"But Jim..."

"I know you were only trying to help her and you didn't know that she was a criminal," Jim said. "But Blair, it didn't look like that to me. She was pretty, intelligent and..."

"Insane, brutal," Blair added when Jim had to breathe. "Why would you be jealous?"

Jim cringed. Damn, there was no way out of this; he had to go all the way and admit the truth. "Over the years I've grown attached to you... maybe even became a little possessive. I don't want to share my guide with someone else."

Blair's brow grew knitted. "Jim, start making sense." Was his brain still offline? What was he missing?

"I want you to be with *me*, to spend time with me, to..." Jim abruptly stopped talking, as Blair's eyes met his. "I can't do this," he mumbled and let go of Blair's hand. "I need to talk to Doctor Martin, find out when you'll be released."

Blair watched Jim flee the room. Stunned, he tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. What had just happened? It had almost sounded like... like Jim wanted them to be... lovers? Was that it? Was Jim in love with him? Blair closed his eyes and forced back his tears. Had they wasted all this time because they were afraid to open up to the other? He'd been in love with Jim for three years and had never, *never*, thought it possible that Jim might like him in that way.

Blair tried to relax as another round of coughing exhausted him. //Jim, I'm no longer running away. I'm ready to face this and... Maybe you're ready to admit you love me too.//

*

"Jimmy?" William Ellison immediately walked towards his son, whom he never expected to find here. "Did you get shot?" Checking Jim over, he couldn't find a visible injury, but clothes could conceal bandages. Ever since Jim had needed his help to find the Country Club strangler, they were trying to build a new relationship and William felt hopeful that this time he wouldn't let his son down.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" Surprised, Jim took in his father's appearance.

"Visiting a friend who had heart surgery," William explained quickly. "Are you all right, son?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's Blair... he hasn't been feeling well." Jim suddenly felt his dad's arm sneak up behind his back and almost pulled away. He was still getting used to being around his father again, who had greatly changed over the years and had finally admitted to making mistakes in the past. That was the only reason why Jim was giving his dad one more chance to prove himself.

"What's wrong with him?" William didn't know Blair that well, as they'd only met a few times and there had never been a chance to engage in a conversation. That hadn't kept him from wondering why Jim had taken Blair in. He'd heard a few things from Sally, who seemed to read every newspaper article that mentioned Jim's name and knew that Blair's former home had been destroyed in an explosion.

He'd reached two possible explanations while trying to figure out why Jim and Blair had grown this close. Either the two men were lovers or Blair was helping Jim control his senses. He'd seen his son zone out when Jim had only been a boy and had never been able to pull him back. //Ah, Jimmy, I'm sorry I made you feel like a freak. I should have backed you up!// William couldn't change the past, but he could influence the future.

"According to the doctors he has a bacterial pneumonia and now he's also suffering from hypoglycemia." Jim wasn't sure Blair wanted William to know, but he had to tell someone. He was still shocked that Blair had tried to keep this from him because he didn't want to be a burden. //You will never be a burden to me, Blair!//

"Low blood sugar?" William saw the concern in his son's eyes. "Does he have to stay?"

"I just talked to his doctor and they're releasing him in less than an hour. I need to arrange for a ride home... When I got here I was in a rush to get to Blair and they towed away the truck..."

//Are they lovers?// William had never seen Jim with another man, had never heard that his son was dating a man, but Jim was too concerned, too... worked up. //And what if they are lovers? Do I have a problem with that?// Considering his question, he recalled Blair's friendliness when the younger man had helped him to his feet after the Country Club strangler had gotten to him. //I'll need some time to get used to the idea of them being lovers,// but he didn't feel appalled, maybe even slightly curious.

"I can drive the two of you to the loft, that's no problem, Jimmy," William offered, watching his son closely. He'd learned from his past mistakes and was determined to do things right this time.

"Uh, you're sure?" Jim tried hard not to show his surprise. "It'll be at least 45 minutes before we can leave and I can always call a cab..." He didn't want to impose on his father.

"No, I'd love to help!" William carefully patted his son's back. "I'm going to have some coffee and I'll meet you at the exit, all right?"

"Uh-huh," Jim muttered, completely taken aback by his dad's eagerness to help. "That should work. Thanks again, dad, I really appreciate it."

//That's what fathers are for, to help out their sons,// William thought, but felt hesitant to say it out loud. Their relationship was still too fragile to make comments like that. He would take this slowly and earn his son's trust.

*

Blair was taking his first wobbly steps when Jim returned to his partner's room. Jim halted in the doorway and observed Blair as the younger man picked up his coat. Blair looked tired, pale and defeated.

Jim had gotten Blair's prescription filled and the sugar pills were safely tucked away in his pocket. "Ready to head home, partner?" Blair quickly looked up and Jim caught the melancholy expression in those blue orbs. "Something wrong, Chief?"

"I'm tired," Blair admitted bluntly.

Jim realized how hard that admission had been on Blair, who usually never gave into fatigue. "You need rest," he replied and placed his right hand on Blair's shoulder. Leading his partner out of the room, Jim's hand gently squeezed Blair's shoulder in an effort to reassure the younger man. "Doctor Martin told me what to watch out for. Together we'll figure out how to deal with your hypoglycemia."

Blair coughed, as his chest tightened. "Jim..." he managed between coughs, "were you serious about taking some time off? You don't have to do that." As soon as he'd finished, the coughing returned. Hell, he felt like he would faint any moment now, but this time it wasn't due to his blood sugar. They'd made sure he ate a sandwich and drank some orange juice with sugar, (which tasted horrible,) before leaving the hospital and they had assured him that his blood sugar was fine. It was his soul, which felt tired.

"I'll take some time off, yes," Jim replied quickly and looked Blair in the eyes. "We've got a lot of talking to do."

"Talking? Where's the real Jim Ellison?" Blair teased. "You never wanna talk."

"This is too important to ignore," Jim explained. "Let's continue this at home, Chief. My dad offered to give us a ride home." Jim noticed the surprised expression on Blair's face. "I ran into him here at the hospital and he..."

"Is he ill?" Concerned, Blair tried to focus on Jim's needs. When had he become this selfish? They'd only been talking about him; what if something bad had happened to Jim's dad? Feeling like a jerk, Blair waited for Jim's answer, praying that William Ellison was all right.

"Dad's fine. He's visiting a friend." Jim had heard Blair's heartbeat speed up and wondered what had caused it. "Calm down, buddy."

"Sorry, I didn't want to..." At a loss, Blair looked at Jim apologetically. "So why is your dad giving us a ride home? Did you leave the truck at Rainier?"

"Long story, Chief," Jim said evasively and waved at his dad as he made out William's form near the exit. "I think he really wants to help."

"That's good," Blair mumbled. His fatigue got the better of him and involuntarily he leaned against Jim for support. A strong arm slipped around his waist and Blair sighed contently. No matter what had happened between them in the past, he could still count on Jim to pull him through.

"Dad," Jim said and made sure he had a tight hold on Blair, who tried to move away from him. He wouldn't allow it, worried that Blair might stumble over his feet and take a fall.

"Jimmy, Blair." William gestured them to start moving. "I pulled up closer to the hospital."

Jim immediately located his father's BMW and guided Blair through the crowd. "So how's your friend doing?"

"Frank's fine. He has a heart problem and needed a bypass." William reached the car first and opened the door so Blair could slip onto the backseat and make himself comfortable there.

Slowly, Blair sat down and felt relieved to be off his feet. Closing his eyes, he listened as Jim slipped into the passenger's seat beside his dad.

After William keyed the ignition they left the parking lot and headed for the loft. Blair disliked the eerie silence in the car and wished father and son would open up, discuss things, but that would take time.

William had similar thoughts. He wanted to start a conversation, but couldn't think of something to ask Jimmy. They'd almost reached the loft when he said, "Would you like to have dinner together? I know a good Chinese restaurant where..." Then he looked over his shoulder and saw the exhaustion in Blair's eyes. "Or we could go for take out..." Recalling how protective and worried his son had been, William realized that Jim would want Blair off his feet until he knew for sure that the anthropologist was fine. "Sally's off, otherwise I would have asked her to cook something."

"Dad," Jim started cautiously, "thanks for the offer, but Blair needs rest and..."

"Jim, it's okay... dinner would be great, Mr. Ellison," Blair whispered and leaned back. His eyes were closing and it was getting harder to stay awake, but William Ellison was doing his best to reach out to Jim, and Blair had to encourage that. Although he didn't know William that well, he knew how important it was that the two men tried to rebuild their father-son relationship. Even now, after so many years, Blair still wished he'd find his own father.

"Call me Bill," he offered as he pulled up to the loft. "I hope you'll feel better soon. Sally's sister, Cynthia, is a diabetic and I know that it can be a battle to figure out what your body needs and when it needs it." William correctly interpreted the glance Jim shot him. "I surprised you, didn't I?"

"I didn't know Cynthia was a diabetic," he admitted and opened the car door. After he got out he helped Blair, who was nearly asleep, to his feet. "Come on, Darwin."

"Do you need help getting him upstairs?" William watched Jim manhandle Blair until his son had a tight hold on the younger man. //Protective and possessive,// he concluded, realizing that Jim wouldn't allow anyone close to Blair. //Yes, I could accept them being lovers,// William realized. Although homophobia had been ingrained on him since childhood, he thought he could accept them as lovers because Blair was a good person and was good to Jim. Accepting Blair would take him a step further towards reconciliation with his son.

"I've done this before," Jim said, chuckling privately. "I can manage."

"How late do you want to me drop by for dinner? Is Chinese food okay for him?" Amused, William noticed that Blair's arm snagged Jim's waist. Apparently, even in his sleep the anthropologist felt safe with his son.

"Around seven? And I don't think it makes a difference what type of food he eats, as long as he eats it..." An urge to hold Blair close overwhelmed Jim, but he kept back. He could wait until they got inside and had comfortably settled down on the couch.

"I'll be there!" William smiled, happy at receiving this chance and privately he thanked Blair for urging Jim to seize this opportunity to spend some time together. Yes, he liked the anthropologist and Blair might give him some advice on how to get to know his son better. William got into his car and drove off.

Jim dragged Blair into the building, trying to establish whether his partner was asleep or still awake. "Chief, are you still with me?"

"Uh-huh," was Blair's eloquent answer and Jim laughed warmly.

After riding the elevator up to the loft, Jim carefully guided Blair's step and the Sentinel was relieved when he finally deposited his younger partner safely on the couch. "Stay here for a sec, will you? Gonna clean up your bed." Blair's bed was a mess and he couldn't possible sleep comfortably among his notebooks and artifacts.

Blair pulled up his knees, curled into a ball and rested his head on the back of his hands. Lying down, he finally felt safe and secure, and sleep claimed him quickly.

When Jim returned Blair was sound asleep and snoring softly. "Blair," Jim whispered affectionately and checked the time. He was determined to see to it that Blair ate something every four hours, so he would let Blair sleep for another two hours and then wake him up to eat a snack. It was only four PM and he didn't want Blair to wait until dinner to eat something.

This time, he pushed his arms beneath Blair's back and knees and carefully lifted the younger man from the sofa. As he carried Blair into his room, Jim realized that his partner needed to gain some weight. //I'll fatten you up!// he promised privately.

He placed Blair in the center of the bed, debating whether to wake the younger man or not. No way could Blair sleep comfortably in his clothes. "Hey, wake up for me, buddy." Blair's sleepy eyes opened and Jim immediately checked if they were draped or not. Thankfully, they were lucid. He'd never forget the state Blair had been in when he'd found his partner. "Let's get you out of these clothes, Chief and then you can go back to sleep."

Blair nodded absentmindedly. Exhausted, his mind hovered on the edge of consciousness and sleep. Growing colder, he realized that Jim was stripping him. Jeans, socks, flannel shirt and T-shirt were already gone and he was now only wearing his briefs. "Cold, Jim," he whispered, trying to figure out why Jim was undressing him.

"I know that, buddy." Jim quickly wrapped him up in blankets and then sat on the side of the bed. "Anything you need before going back to sleep?"

"Needddd," Blair mumbled, falling asleep again. "Only... you...."

Jim's heart missed a beat at hearing those two words and enthralled he watched Blair's eyes close. Soft snoring echoed through the room and Jim smiled; Blair hadn't coughed once since they'd gotten home. Maybe the antibiotics were finally kicking in.

Mentally, Jim made a note when to give Blair the antibiotics again and then he picked up the plastic bag, which Blair had brought home after seeing Doctor Anthony. Opening it, he removed the brochures, which he would read later and uncovered the glucometer. "Twice a day, once in the morning and then again before going to bed," Jim said, repeating Doctor Martin's words.

He placed the glucometer on Blair's desk and returned to studying his partner. Curled up beneath the blankets Blair looked younger than he was and extremely vulnerable. Acting on instinct, Jim placed his hand on Blair's brow and gently stroked the smooth skin. "I hope you'll have some good dreams," he whispered and placed a tender kiss on Blair's forehead.

Reluctantly, he let go of Blair and got back to his feet. After picking up the brochures he walked into the living area and made himself comfortable on the couch; he had some reading to do.

*

"Chief? Wake up, it's time for a little snack."

"Go away..." Blair turned away from the intruder and tried to get back to sleep. He hadn't had such an erotic dream in years! The things that Jim was doing to him were unbelievable and he was *so* close to finding out how Jim planned to use those leather restraints on him. Pushing away snagging hands, Blair desperately tried to hold onto the fleeing dream. "Jim?"

"Buddy," Jim whispered, amused at seeing the content grin on Blair's face. "That must be one hell of a dream!"

"Uh, Jim?" Startling awake, Blair's eyes flashed open. What was Jim doing in his bedroom? It had only been a dream, right? "What are you doing in here, man?"

"It's snack time, Chief. Gonna haul you back into the living room." Jim pushed back the blankets and Blair's shriek caught him off guard. Covering his ears, he quickly dialed it down. "Blair!"

"It's cold! And why am I not wearing any clothes?" Blair stared at his body, feeling immensely thankful that he was still wearing his briefs, although the fabric did little to hide his obvious arousal. "Give me that!" He pulled the blankets from Jim's hands and covered himself.

"Uh, sorry about that, Chief," Jim muttered, feeling guilty for putting Blair in that position. //It was an erotic dream all right, Geez, Blair, I wish I knew who turned you on like that... I wish *I* turned you on like that!// Jim couldn't help but notice that Blair was well endowed and he just stopped himself from licking his lips in anticipation. //Control, Ellison. Get back in control!//

"I'll be out in a sec, gimme a moment here, okay, man?" Embarrassed at being found in such a 'delicate' state, Blair blushed fiercely.

"Sure," Jim whispered and retreated into the living room. //Damn it! Now I'm hard too!// Just seeing Blair aroused and nearly naked had made him grow hard in seconds. He'd never reacted that intensely to Blair's presence before and accounted it to the stress they had been in lately.

A few moments later, Blair ventured into the living room. He'd slipped into sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt and felt a little more confident now. "Sorry about that," he offered.

"Chief, we all have erotic dreams. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

//Even if that dream involves your best friend?// Blair thought, feeling guilty for having these thoughts about his heterosexual friend. Why did he have to fall in love with Jim? Why couldn't it have been a nice girl? Why Jim Ellison? Sighing, Blair made his way over to the couch and sat down. "I still feel tired."

"You need to catch up on a lot of sleep, Chief." Jim returned to the living area and placed a bagel with cream cheese in front of his partner. "I hope chamomile tea is okay."

"Thanks, man." Blair accepted the mug and curled his fingers around it.

"Do you still feel cold?"

"A little, but nothing like before," Blair reassured his friend. "Jim, I'm not complaining but why...?" He looked at the bagel like it would grow feet and run away from him.

"Want me to start a fire?" Jim was already on his way to the fireplace.

"That's not necessary, man. I'll put on a sweater instead." He didn't want to trouble Jim.

"No, it's okay." Jim sat on his heels, started and tended the fire, making sure it grew stronger. "We need to talk," he said while his back was still towards Blair. He wanted to keep his face hidden right now, as it would reveal too many emotions. Blair's sigh made him flinch.

"About...?"

"About you dying, me bringing you back, Alex, you running yourself rugged, not telling me about the hypoglycemia... do you want me to continue?" Jim composed himself and walked over to Blair, sitting down beside him. "Why didn't you tell me about the low blood sugar? I already had a feeling that Doctor Anthony was holding back on me, but... Blair, why? Don't you trust me any more?"

Blair looked away, unable to return Jim's glance. "I'll always trust you."

"Then why?" Exasperated, Jim moved a little closer, almost brushing Blair's body with his.

Blair sighed deeply, knowing that Jim wouldn't let go until he explained his actions. "Can you imagine how things would be? Hey, Jim, pull over, I'm not feeling that great. Where's the glucometer? I need to eat something... what if I have seizures at the PD or Rainier?"

"So you decided to ignore it? Pretend that it didn't exist?" In disbelief, Jim stared at Blair, who began to cough softly. "Damn it, Chief, it doesn't work that way. You could have died!"

Blair waited for the coughing fit to pass and then shrugged his shoulders. "I died before."

The words hung between them and both men grew quiet for a while. Blair was the first to gather his courage and to speak up. "I'm sorry for the way that sounded. I don't blame you..."

"Then whom do you blame?" Jim asked, apprehension creeping closer.

"Myself. I should have told you right from the start that Alex had heightened senses. I tried to tell you when I got home that day, but you were cranky and didn't want to hear a word about this woman I'd met at the PD."

Jim remembered that evening. "I'm sorry too, Chief."

"I don't want to talk about the drowning right now, Jim, okay? Or about you bringing me back."

"Why?" Jim urged Blair to sip his tea.

"It's painful."

"In what way?"

"You dumped me..." Blair quickly covered his mouth with his free hand. "Did I really say that?"

"Dumped you?"

"You told me that you weren't ready to take that trip with me, man. I can read between the lines." Blair emptied his tea, placed the mug on the coffee table and stared at the bagel, which Jim would make him eat, even if he refused. But he would eat the bagel voluntarily, not wanting to faint or have seizures ever again.

"You think I no longer want you in my life, is that it?"

"You said it yourself, man. It's time to cut the umbilical cord." Feeling miserable and depressed, Blair reached for the bagel. He would need his strength to move his things out of the loft.

Thunderstruck, Jim stared at Blair and then grabbed the younger man's wrists as Blair reached for the bagel. It was time to plunge into the deep. "You're so wrong!"

"Uh, Jim? What's going on, man?" Jim's hold was tight and Blair didn't even try to pull away.

"Listen very carefully," Jim started and moved closer to Blair. "Blair, I need you in my life, I want you in my life. You'll never be a burden to me and you'd better not be serious about moving out because I'd track you down and move your things back in."

"Why?" It was Blair's turn to ask this question. "Why do you want me here?" Had he been right back at the hospital and did Jim love him?

"This is why," Jim whispered and leaned in closer to softly brush Blair's lips.

"Oh," escaped Blair. "Did you just kiss me?"

Jim laughed. He'd never seen such a dumbfounded expression on Blair's face before. "I knew you were smart, buddy, yeah, I did."

"Why?" Blair lifted his right hand to touch his lips. "I can't believe you did that!" Stunned, he tried to make sense of what had happened. Jim had kissed him! //This is so not happening! Why did he kiss me? Why?//

"I guess that's what I wanted to tell you, Blair," Jim whispered, feeling a little shy, but determined as hell to see this through. "I've been in love with you for some time now. That's why I got all territorial when you admitted to knowing Alex. I felt threatened and jealous. She's a woman; she could give you what you wanted. Things I can't ever give you." Jim didn't know if his babbling made any sense, but he needed to get this out of his system. "I was scared I would lose you to her."

"Then why kick me out?" Blair had to pause as another bout of coughing got the better of him. "Why didn't you want me close?"

"I wanted you completely out of the picture. I hoped that if I stopped paying attention to you Alex would do the same and that it would be between me and her. You were dangling in the middle, Chief and I know you can't stop yourself; you've got to help someone who's in need. I couldn't take any risks." Jim met Blair's eyes and added, "I had this dream in which I killed you."

Blair wanted to reply, but the coughing got worse and it felt like his lungs tried to exit his body by crawling up his throat.

"Hold on, Chief." Jim got to his feet, walked into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and some tissues.

Blair used the tissues to cover his mouth while he coughed up sputum. "Jim..." he choked out and the coughing racked his body again.

"I guess the antibiotics are kicking some ass in there," Jim teased, trying to support Blair emotionally. He wrapped an arm around the younger man and waited patiently for the coughing fit to pass. "Hey, it's going to be okay," he said reassuringly as he slowly rocked Blair against him.

Blair wiped away the sputum that clung to his lip and managed to lift his eyes to meet Jim's. "Did you really say that... that you're in love with me?" he panted, trying to regulate his breathing.

"Yeah, I'm in love with you, Blair." Jim was surprised to find that the words easily left his lips. "Now the question is do you love me?" The tears that flowed down Blair's cheeks surprised Jim. "Hey, buddy, why are you crying?"

"I've been in love with you for years, dumbass!" Blair exclaimed and immediately paid the price as the coughing returned.

"I take it that's a yes?" Jim realized that he had to go easy on Blair. Doctor Martin had told him that stress would only worsen Blair's condition. "That erotic dream you had earlier, was it about me?"

"Yes," Blair whispered between coughs.

"I'm flattered." Jim took in the beatific smile that formed on Blair's face and ran his thumb over Blair's lower lip. "Thanks for telling me, baby."

Blair cringed. "Baby?"

"Yeah." Jim smoothed back a stray lock of Blair's hair. "Are you up to eating that bagel?"

"I think so." Blair allowed Jim to place the plate on his lap. Slowly, he began to eat the bagel. "I can't remember the last time I ate something that tasted this great!"

"Get used to it, baby," Jim teased. "I'm going to put some meat on your bones. You're too skinny. I need something to hold onto in bed." Jim relished seeing the fierce blush that spread over Blair's face. "Be a good boy and eat your bagel. I'm going to call my dad to see if we're still on for tonight."

"Jim." Blair's hand grabbed Jim's sweater when the older man rose from the couch. "I don't know what to do..."

"Do about what?" Jim asked and sat on his heels.

"About... you... us... is there an us?" Blair desperately wanted to probe Jim's eyes, but lacked courage.

"Of course there's an us!" Jim said firmly. "I'll prove that to you after I made that phone call."

"Prove it?"

"You like to cuddle, don't you, baby? Don't try to deny it. I've watched you over the years and you're always cuddling with your blankets or pillow. Now you've got a real life pillow."

Speechless, Blair let go of Jim's sweater. Shivers ran up and down his spine, as he wondered if Jim planned on cuddling him in his big bed upstairs. //Focus!// he chided himself and concentrated on eating the bagel.

//That went well,// Jim thought, congratulating himself. //Blair's mine now.//

*

It was a quarter to seven when William parked his car near the loft. "Come on, Charlie, it's time to leave the warm car."

The dog, lying on the back seat, whined softly and got to his feet. It was still snowing in Cascade and the white carpet was growing higher and stronger. William cursed softly as he opened the car door. The cold wind slammed inside and his teeth chattered. After collecting the food and the dog's leash, he led the canine inside the building and then stepped into the elevator.

*

"My dad's here," Jim announced, but when he looked over his shoulder he found that Blair hadn't heard him at all because he'd dozed off again. A smile appeared on Jim's face and he quickly made sure that his new lover was warm and comfortable. They'd cuddled for the last two hours and he'd found that he loved sliding his fingers through Blair's hair and he'd made the younger man promise never to cut his hair without explicit permission.

"Blair? My dad's here," he repeated after making his way over to Blair. While running his fingers through silken locks he held his breath as the blue eyes opened. "Welcome back, baby."

"I don't know if I can get used to this 'baby'," Blair teased warmly and stretched his uncooperative body. "I can't believe I fell asleep again!" Blair managed to sit upright and looked down. "Man, I'm still wearing my sweats. Shouldn't I, you know, change for dinner?"

"Are you comfortable in those sweats?"

"Yeah..."

"That settles it." Jim gently took Blair's hand in his. "Can you get to your feet?" Blair might be a little wobbly on his feet.

"Lemme try." With a little help from Jim, Blair rose from the couch and smiled hesitantly. "Was it a dream?"

"Me telling you that I love you? No, that really happened." Slowly, Jim walked Blair to the door.

"Would you say that again?"

"I love you," Jim said and brushed Blair's lips again. The tiny moan that escaped Blair's lips didn't go unnoticed; it turned him on and Jim cursed the fact that he was growing hard again. //Not now!// His father was on the other side of the door. //What's that smell?// he wondered, puzzled. //He's not alone!// The scent didn't smell human.

Jim let his dad knock, not wanting to spook the older man. "Glad you could make it, dad," he said after opening the door. "Come on inside. Man, that smells good! I better set the table!" Jim was about to head for the kitchen when he caught sight of the dog that was hiding behind his dad's legs. "I didn't know you had a pet."

William stepped inside and coaxed the dog into following him. "I named him Charlie."

"He doesn't look too good," Blair commented. The Greyhound was shaking on his feet. His head was bowed and Blair could literally count the ribs showing through his skin. "What happened to him?" Sitting on his heels, Blair wanted to pet the Greyhound but it tried to get away from him, squealing and panicking.

William sighed. "He was a race dog and after he outlived his use his owner tried to kill him. It's common practice in some Mediterranean countries and the race dog owners over here are apparently following their lead. I found Charlie dangling from a tree. Someone had tied one leg to a branch, so he was suspended in air and couldn't free himself. I took Charlie to the vet, but... he has a long way ahead of him."

Jim and Blair had listened closely and both felt appalled by the dog owner's behavior. "Are you keeping him, dad?" Jim asked and carried the food to the table.

"I don't think I can. I'm gone too much." William removed the leash and Charlie immediately headed for the darkest corner in the living area, cowering there and whining softly. William knew from personal experience that it was best not to corner the dog and to leave him alone, but then Blair suddenly headed towards Charlie. William was about to warn Blair that Charlie would only panic, but then he caught his son's expression and a shake of Jim's head, so William didn't stop Blair.

Blair's heart was aching for the poor dog, whose body was shaking even as it was lying down. The big eyes revealed the animal's fear and panic, but it didn't discourage Blair, urging him on. "Hey there, little buddy. How are you doing? There's no need to be scared. The loft's a safe place and it seems you got yourself a new boss, even though he doesn't know it yet."

Blair sat down cross-legged at a distance from the dog, which he could cover by fully extending his arm. "So your name is Charlie? Mine's Blair and yes, I've got a habit of talking too much to man, animal, doesn't matter, as long as they listen."

William had joined Jim at the table and locked eyes with his son. "Blair seems better."

"I'll make damn sure he gets better," Jim promised passionately. "Clam chowder? Won Ton soup? You picked some of Blair's favorite dishes."

Pleased, William smiled. "I didn't know what the two of you liked." His eyes drifted back to Blair, who had miraculously managed to pet the Greyhound's head. "He's good with animals."

"And even better with humans," Jim added, dead serious. "He gave me purpose, something I lost years ago."

"Look, Jimmy, I'm really sorry about... making you feel like a..."

"Freak," Jim supplied as he put down spoons, knives and forks on the table. "We can eat," he announced, hoping Blair would leave the dog and keep them company. Blair's presence was the only thing that could calm him down now that his father was bringing up the past. "Let's not talk about my childhood," he suggested and felt relieved when William nodded his head.

"I'll be with you in a sec," Blair whispered, knowing Jim would hear him. He was making some progress with the Greyhound, as the canine finally allowed him to touch him. "Good boy," Blair praised Charlie. "I know that's scary. You've been hurt badly, poor thing."

Cautiously, the dog took in Blair's scent and pushed his head against the human's hand. Trusting his instincts, the Greyhound knew this human wouldn't hurt him, but as far as Charlie was concerned this was the only human who could be trusted. He didn't even trust the man who'd saved him.

"Guys? Gimme a few more minutes? I think he likes me..." Blair scraped his throat, trying to rid himself of the annoying urge to start coughing again. Blair kept up the soft reassuring mumbling while his hand gently stroked the Greyhound's head. "Poor thing, you've got to get better, you hear me?"

"Chief?" Jim had left the table and now sat on his heels behind Blair, who hadn't even heard him approach. "You've got to eat."

"Yeah," Blair sighed, resigned. He tried not to startle Charlie as he got back to his feet and slowly rose from the floor. "Maybe we can talk later," he whispered.

Charlie whimpered softly, and almost followed the human, but didn't judge it safe yet with the other humans present so he remained where he was.

Jim sat down between Blair and his dad and placed the Won Ton soup in front of his new lover. "Start eating, Darwin."

Blair smiled hesitantly at William Ellison and saw traces of deep regret in the older man's eyes. Raising two boys must have been hard on William. He was tempted to start some table conversation to battle the cold silence, but didn't know what to say. In the end, it was Jim who addressed his father.

"You're not keeping the dog?"

"No, but I'll try to find him a good home. I couldn't take him to the animal shelter. They would put him out." William ate his soup and his gaze traveled from one man to the other. //I'm sure they're in love...// Feeling curious, he addressed Blair. "What does your father do for a living?"

Blair choked on his soup and prayed to whatever deity that was listening that he wouldn't have to go through another round of coughing. Thankfully, he was spared. "I wouldn't know, sir... Bill," he corrected as the older man gave him a stern look. "I don't know my dad."

"I'm sorry," William apologized. "I didn't know..."

"It's okay," Blair assured him. "You took me by surprise, that's all."

The meal was finished in silence and Blair quickly excused himself after he'd eaten enough to satisfy Jim's demands. Blair knew that his new lover meant well, but he hoped that Jim wasn't going to overdo it and would stop monitoring every bite he took.

"Hey, Charlie, the couch is way more comfortable," he whispered seductively and petted the dog's head again. "Come on, keep me company." He hoped the dog would follow him, but doubted it. Charlie was too afraid and Blair couldn't blame the dog for feeling that way.

"Jim, do you need me to do the dishes?" Blair asked, as he settled down onto the couch, wishing his fatigue would go away, but his body demanded he'd rest.

"Why don't you take a nap, Chief? We still need to check your blood sugar later." Jim and his dad began to carry the dirty dishes to the sink.

"Thanks, man! I owe you!" Blair yawned, unable to fight his body any longer. "Jim, you've got to promise to wake me should I fall asleep!" They had company and it would be rude to sleep while Jim's dad was still here.

"Go to sleep!" Jim said affectionately and from the corner of his eye he saw Blair fall asleep. "Thanks for coming over, dad," Jim said hesitantly. "It's a start."

William nodded his head. "I think Charlie likes Blair..." An idea formed in his head. "Jimmy, you used to be very fond of old Sammy, you know the German shepherd we had when you were little? You cried the day he died."

"What about Sammy?" Jim was growing suspicious, recognizing the look in his dad's eyes. William was up to something.

William's gaze shifted to Blair. "Look for yourself, Jimmy. Don't you think Charlie just picked his new owner?"

Charlie had curled up on Blair's lap and even in his sleep the young man's hands were petting the Greyhound's head. "Oh no," Jim moaned. "No pets at the loft! You can't be serious, dad!"

"Think about it, Jimmy," William said softly and grinned. "You'd make Blair very happy if you allowed Charlie to stay."

"What?" Jim stared at his dad. "What the hell are you talking about?" His dad couldn't have figured out that they were lovers! They'd only admitted their feelings hours ago.

"It's only normal that you want your lover to be happy," William said, deciding that he wasn't going to beat about the bush any longer. "I'm right, aren't I? You and Blair are lovers?"

Speechless, Jim stared at his dad and wondered what to say. "Why... how... dad..." Jim tried to form a coherent response, but failed. He'd never thought Blair and he acted that obvious, but if even his father picked up on it, they'd have to be more careful in future.

"Jimmy, I might be assuming too much here, but when you took Blair in I felt fairly confident that you had a perfectly sound reason for doing so; either Blair helped you with your senses or you were attracted to him." William waited patiently and observed the play of emotions on his son's face.

"Actually it's both," Jim said eventually, opting for the truth. "Blair helps me control my senses and yes, I love him." Defensively, he stared into his dad's eyes. "If you can't accept that..." But William cut him short.

"No, I accept it." William chose his words carefully. "Twenty years ago I might have found it offensive, knowing my son was dating another man, but not any more. Things change, people change..."

Something in those words rang familiar to Jim, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "I find your acceptance hard to believe." Jim had always assumed that his dad would fiercely protest this relationship.

William beckoned his son to sit down at the kitchen table now that they'd done the dishes. "When you married Carolyn I doubted the marriage would work out," he said, dropping a minor bomb. Jim hadn't invited him to that wedding and being left out had hurt.

Jim raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Why did you think that?" It occurred to him that they had never talked about Carolyn before. His dad had met her a few times and William had always been polite. Jim had never gotten the impression that his dad disliked her.

"Because she wasn't what you needed." William hoped he would find the right words. "You've always been special, Jimmy," he started and caught his son's exasperated sigh. "Yes, you have these heightened senses, but there are more things that make you special. At times you seem larger than life to me, son. You're hunting and catching these criminals, you can control your senses and you can't stand injustice. You're somewhat of an idealist, even if you'd never agree to it. Carolyn was the complete opposite of you."

Jim listened patiently, wondering where his dad was going with this.

"Blair on the other hand, is a lot like you."

Jim snorted at hearing that. "You can't be serious."

"Think about it," William said firmly. "You're both driven by this sense of justice. He's a teacher and you need his guidance, his advice." William looked over at Blair. "And he needs your guidance in return."

Jim's jaw almost hit the floor, as he listened to his dad. "You might be on to something," he admitted reluctantly. Eyeing William thoughtfully, Jim said, "Are you telling me that you can accept the fact that I'm in a gay relationship?"

William nodded his head once. "I wasn't a good father; I know that, Jimmy, but all that matters to me is that you're happy and if Blair makes you happy, it's fine with me."

Jim clasped his hands, considering his dad's words. "I never expected you to accept this."

"Jimmy, I made a lot of mistakes in the past and I plan on being a better dad... or friend... than I used to be." William and Jim exchanged a glance, reaching a new understanding.

"It's new, you know. We only found out a few hours ago." Seeing his dad's surprised expression, Jim added, "Yeah, we've been in love for years but never acted on it, never admitted to having those feelings, but when I faced losing Blair twice I couldn't keep up on the pretence that it was just friendship. He completes me in ways I never knew possible."

"Only a few hours?" William grinned.

"Yeah, we had a little talk before you came over. It was time to be honest. It was hard, going first, telling him I loved him, not knowing if he felt the same way about me, but I had to try. I didn't want one of us to die without trying to make this work."

"That makes sense to me," William said and petted the back of Jim's hand. "What will be your next move? You mentioned taking some time off?"

A genuinely affectionate smile appeared on Jim's face. His dad had really surprised him and they'd taken a big step in becoming friends. "Yes, I'll make sure that Blair completely recovers."

Their eyes shifted to the sleeping man on the couch. "I mean it, Jimmy. It might be good for Blair to take care of Charlie."

"I don't know, dad. Blair needs to concentrate on his own recovery right now."

"Jimmy, I know you want to take care of Blair, but don't smother him," William said, meaning well. "Looking after Charlie will make him feel useful and it'll take Blair's mind off things for a while."

"Dad, I don't want pets at the loft," Jim repeated, already dreading walking the dog, removing the hairs from their furniture and even worse, sharing Blair. //I'm a selfish bastard.//

"Give it a try? I can drop his things off tomorrow, should you decide to take Charlie in. I'll take him home with me tonight, but I think that both Blair and Charlie will benefit if the dog moves in."

"I'll think it over and discuss it with Blair," Jim promised.

*

"Hey, baby, open your eyes for me." Amused, Jim sat down on the couch beside Blair and watched his new lover's eyes flutter open. "Hey, sleepyhead..."

"I fell asleep, didn't I?" Blair slowly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to wake up fully. "I asked you to wake me... where's your dad?" Blair looked about, but found both William and Charlie gone. "Poor thing," he mumbled, lazily stretching his body and sitting upright. Jim's arms encircled his waist and Blair welcomed the touch.

"Dad left a few minutes ago and practically forbade me to wake you."

Blair recognized the look in Jim's eyes. Leaning into the embrace he asked, "What aren't you telling me?"

"He knows about us."

"You told him?" Blair stared at Jim in utter disbelief. He'd never expected that Jim would want them to be open about their new relationship. Jim being a cop, Blair had assumed that they would spend the entire time in the closet.

"He figured it out himself. Actually, he thought that we'd been lovers for quite some time." Jim smiled and his fingers gently brushed Blair's lips. "I got this feeling that the gang at the PD thinks we're lovers as well."

Blair allowed a lazy grin to surface on his face and wrapped his arms around Jim's body. "I'm okay with that." Slowly, he lifted his head, catching Jim's lips in a kiss.

"Baby, we need to test your blood sugar before going to sleep..." Jim reminded him and slipped from Blair's hold. "I'll be back."

Blair leaned back into the comfort of the couch and wondered what the future held in store for them. What kind of lover would Jim be? Tender? Possessive? //I'm about to find out,// he realized, as butterflies danced in his stomach. Feeling comfortable and even somewhat rested, Blair turned onto his side and watched Jim return to the couch, carrying the glucometer.

"You know how this works?" Jim asked, curiously.

"Yeah, a nurse showed me at the hospital. I just need a little blood sample." Blair's swabbed his index finger with an alcohol pad to sterilize it and then used the lancet device that came with the meter to prick his finger.

"Now what?" Jim asked a bit apprehensively.

Blair gently placed the drop of blood on the test strip that stuck out from the meter and pushed the button to turn it on. "Now we wait a few seconds." The meter counted down and thirty seconds later, both men read the result.

"Is that okay?" Blair asked, concerned.

"You never read the brochures Doctor Anthony gave you?"

"Didn't really have the time, but I promise to make up for it and read them tomorrow."

Jim pointed at the test result. "It's above your target range, which is 70 mg/dL"

"I'm okay then..." Blair sighed, relieved.

"Yeah, you're fine, baby." Jim placed the meter on the coffee table and concentrated on his lover. "You aren’t coughing much any more," he observed.

"I feel better too," Blair admitted. "But why am I still tired?"

Jim brushed a stray lock back behind Blair's ear. "Would you like to keep me company upstairs? Just to sleep, mind you," he clarified. They needed some time to get used to their new relationship. No way would he jump Blair's bones while the younger man was still recovering.

"Are you sure that you want me in your bed?" Blair wavered. "Your bedroom is *your* place and I don't wanna invade it..."

"Blair, I want to hold you during the night, okay?" Jim looked pleadingly at the younger man. "I don't want you to sleep alone downstairs. I need you close to reassure myself that you're doing fine."

"Okay, Jim," Blair gave in quickly, looking forward to sleeping curled up beside Jim.

"I'll get your antibiotics and then we can go upstairs, or do you want to take a shower or bath first?"

"Do I smell that bad?" Blair mumbled, crestfallen.

"You smell just fine to me."

"In that case I'll postpone taking that shower until tomorrow morning. Just too tired, man."

Jim got to his feet, and collected Blair's antibiotics and some bottled water from the kitchen.

Blair obediently swallowed the antibiotics and nearly emptied the bottle. "I didn't realize I was that thirsty."

"You've been ignoring your body's needs," Jim chided him gently. "Promise me to be more careful in future."

"I promise."

Jim curled one arm around Blair's waist as they made their way over to the stairs. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"No, don't think so." Blair started climbing the stairs and Jim followed quickly.

"Blair, there's one more thing I'd like to discuss before we go to sleep." Jim smiled fondly at Blair, seeing the younger man curl up on the side of the bed that was closest to the wall.

"No, I have never been with a man before," Blair whispered shyly and pulled up the blankets to fight off the growing cold.

Jim stifled a grin. "Actually, I had another question in mind, but thanks for telling me."

Blair had the grace to blush. "What question?" Had he just made a complete fool out of himself?

"We'll get to my original question in a moment," Jim said as he snuggled up to Blair. "Why did you think I was asking you whether you'd been with a man before?"

"Hey, I'm in your bed, man. Seems to me like you should know." Blair opened his arms and relished feeling Jim this close to him. His lover's bare skin rubbed against his sweats and Blair wondered why he hadn't taken off his clothes before turning in. Yeah, right, he'd been afraid he'd grow cold overnight, but now he had his very own portable heater!

"I appreciate you telling me, baby," Jim said and slid his hand beneath Blair's shirt so he could run his fingers across his lover's back. Blair unsuccessfully tried to stifle a moan and Jim grinned. "You like that, baby?"

His eyes met Jim's and Blair nodded his head. "Feels great." When Jim's fingers trailed a little lower, Blair bucked hard against Jim.

"I always loved your ass," Jim said appreciatively, as he kneaded the mounds of soft flesh.

"I really hope you're a top, man, because I could get used to feeling your hands on my ass," Blair teased.

Jim grinned. "Oh yeah, I'll really enjoy deflowering you, Chief." The mere thought that Blair's virgin ass was his made his cock throb with want. If Blair had been healthy he would have made a move but now he was trying to keep back.

"What about you, Jim? Did you have male lovers before?" Blair quavered as Jim's fingers probed his cleft, seductively brushing against his entrance. //Yeah, he's a top all right!//

"I don't know whether I would call them lovers, baby... Only now I understand the difference between making love and fucking," Jim said, suddenly turning a bit melancholy.

"Did you ever..." Blair wavered, but when Jim's fingertips slid deeper to massage his guardian ring, he began to pant nervously and blurted out his question. "Did you ever fuck another man?"

"Yeah," Jim admitted and stopped his exploration. Now they were both hard and he didn't want to rush this. "But I never made love to them."

Blair sighed in relief as Jim's fingers returned to stroking his back. Although he'd grown hard, his erection was fading now that fatigue overwhelmed him again. He loved the little naughty streak that Jim had just displayed and hoped they would take it further once he felt better.

Feeling tired, he rested his head on Jim's chest, using it as a pillow and wrapped his legs around the older man. "I can sleep now..."

They lay facing each other and Jim saw the yawn Blair tried to hide. "Then get some sleep, baby."

"What about your... question?" Blair asked, sleepily.

"We can talk about Charlie in the morning."

"Charlie? What about him?" Fighting to stay awake, Blair's eyes opened again.

"My dad thinks Charlie picked you as his new owner."

"Me?" Blair's sleepy eyes widened. "Why would your dad give Charlie away?"

"Blair?"

"Come on, how can you possibly turn your back on Charlie? He needs love and care!" Slightly alarmed, Blair tried to sit upright, but Jim kept him in place. "I can't look after Charlie!"

"Why not?" Jim continued to stroke his lover's back and nuzzled Blair's throat as well, taking in his lover's rich scent.

"No pets at the loft!" Blair tried to repress another moan when Jim's tongue swirled over his collarbone. "What the hell are you doing? I thought you wanted to get some sleep, not fuck!"

"Never fuck, Blair," Jim corrected him. "To you I'll only make love." Sucking the skin just above Blair's collarbone Jim created a dark passion mark. "Mine, you're mine now..."

The possessive growl took Blair aback. "Jim, man, what's going on..." Blair bit his lower lip as Jim's hand found its way into his sweat pants and underwear. Fingers wrapped themselves around his rapidly hardening cock and Blair bucked hard. "Jim!"

"Mine," Jim growled, and pushed away the blankets. "I need to taste you!"

Blair heard the urgent tone and cupped Jim's chin in the palm of his hand. "Look at me!"

Jim blinked his eyes. "What?"

"What's going on?" Jim's eyes were draped with lust and Blair's heart beat faster.

"Don't know, Chief." Jim sat back on his heels and took in the passion mark that he'd left behind. "You taste so good..."

"Is that it? You need to taste me?" Blair realized that Jim's heightened senses might have taken over, momentarily urging the Sentinel to claim his lover.

"I need to know you're mine," Jim admitted, embarrassed that he'd briefly lost control.

"You doubt I'm yours?" Blair used his thump to stroke Jim's cheek. "Why?"

"I..." Good God, he couldn't admit it! Jim avoided Blair's eyes.

"What is it?" Blair sat upright and was now level with the Sentinel. Reaching out, he placed his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Tell me," Blair commanded.

Jim flinched and obeyed Blair's command. "At times I still smell her on you."

"Alex?" Blair held his breath. "Is this about Alex?"

"She almost took you away from me!" Jim exclaimed. "I could smell she'd touched you, smelled her saliva on you. She kissed you, didn't see?"

"A peck on the cheek, once," Blair admitted, dumbstruck. "Are you still afraid you'll lose me?" He wouldn't allow Jim's fear based reactions to alienate them and maybe they did need to take this step now and fully commit to each other. "You are afraid!" he knew with certainty.

"Maybe this is a mistake," Jim said and turned away, feeling ashamed for his earlier behavior. How could he have lost control like that?

"Jim, it's okay." Blair kneeled behind Jim and wrapped his arms around the Sentinel from behind. "I'll always belong with you. There'll never be anyone else, not for me or for you. We're in this together for the long haul, lover." Blair made the decision to commit to this relationship, no matter what the future would bring and he leaned in closer, pressing his lips against Jim's neck, firmly suckling the skin there. "Now we're even," he teased.

Jim turned around and probed Blair's eyes. Now that the blankets no longer covered his naked body, Jim's long and thick cock stood proud, still leaking a few droplets of pre-ejaculate. "I really want to believe you're mine."

"What will it take to convince you?" Blair felt immensely relieved that Jim was opening up to him now. Jim's doubts could have slowly poisoned their love.

"I want to taste you..."

Blair leaned in closer and pressed his lips against Jim's, his tongue seeking entrance to the hidden pleasures of his lover's mouth.

Jim's hand snaked up behind Blair's back and tangled in the dark locks. "Not like this," he explained as he used his hold on Blair's hair to end the kiss. "I want to taste you."

"Oh," Blair whispered. "You want to go down on me!"

"Will you let me?" Jim returned to kissing his new lover and maintained eye contact.

"If that's what you want... need... yeah, do it." Blair didn't object when Jim lowered him onto his back.

"Let's lose the clothes first." Jim licked his lips and grinned wickedly at Blair. "Lift your hips." Blair obeyed and Jim pulled down the sweat pants and briefs. He flung them onto the floor and then straddled Blair's legs. "I need to know you're mine..." he said apologetically.

"If giving me a blowjob convinces you feel free to proceed," Blair teased.

Jim leaned forward and curled his fingers around Blair's hardening cock. "I'm gonna eat you, baby."

Blair arched his back when Jim's talented fingers began to pump him slowly. "Jim..."

"Do you need me as much as I need you? Tell me, Blair..." Jim's tongue swirled across the head of Blair's cock and finally he tasted his lover's essence. "Tell me you love me."

"Stupid Sentinel," Blair panted, almost unable to continue as Jim's tongue probed the slit, even sucking softly. "I love you, Jim, I always did... oh, that's nice..." Blair's eyes grew big when Jim's lips closed over the head of his cock. "Yes, that's it... you're talented..."

Jim grinned. Trust Blair to be talkative during sex! Relaxing his throat, he took in more and began to suck his lover's cock in earnest.

"Fuck... wow... how do you do that? I'm not going to survive this, a little harder, yeah like that!" Blair had to stop talking in order to breathe.

Jim doubled his efforts to bring Blair to orgasm and managed to pry one of his lover's hands from the sheet and placed it on his bobbing head instead, hoping Blair would get the hint and urge him on. Blair didn't disappoint him. His lover was wildly fucking his mouth, hips rhythmically rising from the bed to bury himself deeper in his mouth. Briefly, he let go of Blair's cock to wet his middle finger.

"No, don't stop! Suck me, Jim! I need you, I’m yours..." A pitiful moan escaped his lips and then Jim's lips returned, enclosing his cock completely. "Yeah, suck me, taste me... love you, need you!" Blair no longer knew he was babbling and his hand mechanically encouraged Jim to take in more.

Jim moved and kneeled beside Blair. Quickly, he spread Blair's legs and probed his lover's tight hole. Gently, he pushed passed the guardian ring and sucked Blair's cock hard when his finger slid inside.

"Oh fuck!" Blair exclaimed. His eyes flashed open at feeling Jim's finger inside his ass. "Yeah, Jim, I can take it..." If this was what Jim needed, he would encourage the Sentinel. "Want to fuck me?" Jim's began to pull back, but Blair stopped his lover. 'No, fuck me, it's okay..." Blair almost jolted upright when Jim returned with two fingers. "Oh man, I'm gonna come!"

//Yeah, I know you are,// Jim thought wickedly. His fingers probed the tight passage, trying to locate the sweet spot that would push his lover over the edge.

"Jimmmmm!" Blair wailed and bucked hard as Jim's fingertips brushed his prostate. Unable to hold back any longer he came hard in Jim's mouth, releasing his come in jerky spurts.

//Damn...// Jim couldn't keep back either and shot his come across Blair's belly, trying to wipe away the last remnants of Alex's smell on the younger man. Releasing Blair's cock, he licked some drops of come from his lips and then leaned forward, brutally claiming Blair's lips. "Taste yourself," he instructed. To his delight Blair parted his teeth and his tongue possessively slipped inside, marking each delightful inch of his lover's mouth.

Blair stared in disbelief at his lover. Jim had never given him any reason to think that the Sentinel was this passionate in bed. "You're gonna be the death of me," he whispered after Jim's lips released his.

Jim sat back and watched the mess they'd made. "Blair, I'm..." The overwhelming urge to claim Blair was now gone and he felt at peace and sated. Feeling guilty for the way things had happened, he tried to emotionally retreat, but Blair wouldn't let him.

"Hey, I loved it!" Carefully, he elbowed himself into a sitting position. "I loved you going down on me and I loved feeling you inside of me!"

Jim stared blankly at his hands. "I didn't plan this."

"I know that, Jim," Blair soothed him and wrapped his arms around the distraught Sentinel. "Do you now believe that I'm yours and not Alex'?" Geez, he'd never thought it possible that Jim felt that threatened and jealous!

"I think so," Jim admitted hesitantly and finally met Blair's eyes. "I feel... calm now."

Blair grinned. "This is settled then? You know I belong with you?"

Gently, Jim raised his hand and brushed Blair's bruised lips with his fingertips. "Yeah, I know you're mine now..."

"Can we clean up now? I feel sticky," Blair quipped and looked deeply into Jim's eyes, which had changed; they were no longer clouded and a new sense of belonging had appeared in them. He slid off the bed and pulled Jim to his feet.

Jim managed to compose himself. Never before had making love been this intense. There was one thing though he had to ask Blair. "Do you always talk that much?"

Blair blushed slightly. "Did it turn you on?"

"Yeah, it did..." Jim grabbed a blanket from the bed when he caught Blair shivering and wrapped the fabric around his lover before making their way downstairs and into the bathroom.

"Good, then it served its purpose," Blair quipped and grinned.

"Talking dirty turns you on?" Jim asked, surprised.

"Yeah, it does... guess I'll be doing a lot of talking in bed then!"

*

Later than night, Jim pulled Blair, who was sound asleep, close and rested his chin on his lover's shoulder. Blair had fallen asleep the moment he'd hit the mattress. "I love you, Chief," Jim whispered. "I'll always be there for you." Jim placed an affectionate kiss on Blair's hair and then surrendered to sleep as well.

CONTINUES IN "FATHER FIGURE"