Title: Undercover

Author/pseudonym: Lady Masham...but its Kira to my friends, and that means you :)

Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim/Blair

Rating: PG-13, NC

Status: stand alone, but part of a bigger project that's in the works

Archive: Yes please, at the Complete Kingdom of Slash, and WWOMB...anywhere else, just ask

E-mail address for feedback: ktomsons@is2.dal.ca

Other websites: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dungeon/6473/slash.html

Disclaimers: I dream about owning them but in reality must face the fact I don't have that pleasure. I make no money from this and if anyone else does, sue them and then let me know too.

Summary: Blair goes on surveillance.

Warnings: There is a non-graphic sexual assault which really occurs off screen.

Notes: I use Canadian spellings, its betaed, but there are mistakes I've probably missed...you can let me know what they are. Just please be gentle, humour is good! But on the other side, let me know what you think. Constructive cricism always appreciated. I'll laugh at flames :)

Under Cover
By Kira

"...and if he is properly directed by his guide, he will first fall in love with one particular person and beget noble sentiments in partnership with him."
-Socrates, in the "The Symposium" by Plato
****

*Okay Sandburg, think. Think! He's going to be home any moment and he's going to know. What could I use to cover the smell of arousal anyway?* Blair groaned in frustration as he ran his hands through his tangled locks. With an air of desperation he rummaged deep in a drawer in his desk, withdrawing a box. He flipped the catch and withdrew two sticks of incense and a holder consisting of a block of wood with finely drilled holes. Snatching up a book of matches he struck a match with trembling fingers and lit the two sticks, scrunching up his nose as the
overpowering scent of sandalwood permeated the tiny room. *Geez Jim, your no scent is good sense policy must be rubbing off on me. How did I ever stand that?*

The rattle of keys in the basket by the door coupled with the crinkle of plastic bags signalled the arrival of his roommate.

"Hey Chief? You home? I brought dinner."

Blair took some deep breaths and centred himself. "I'll be out in a minute Jim," he called.

Jim shrugged and began to take out various boxes containing what he considered to be the finest Chinese take out in Cascade. The smells lingered in the air, tantalizing his taste buds. Sometimes being a Sentinel really had its moments. He turned up the dial for his sense of
smell to savour the aroma of sweet and sour chicken, egg rolls, fried rice, chow mein and won ton soup. *Okay, let's not start drooling. That's just what I want the kid to see. Can we say Pavlov's dog?* The door to Blair's room opened and suddenly he was assaulted by a stench that clashed horribly with chow mein. Gagging, eyes watering, Jim turned to the blurry figure in the middle of shutting the door.

"SANDBURG WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL??!"

Blair jumped at Jim's bellow. *Oh shit. Please let it be the incense he smells. pleasepleaseplease!*

"Jim, man, sorry about that. Just dial it down. Aw man, I didn't realize how late it was and I didn't get a chance to air out the place before you got home. I'm really sorry Jim. Just try to dial it down. Here, let me get the boxes for you. How was your day? Did your testimony go okay?
Were there any problems about you being able to smell the blood in the dumpster?" His rambling slowly ran down as Jim merely stared at him through watering eyes.

Jim sniffled.

Blair looked up from the food he was unpacking, met the tear-filled eyes of his Sentinel and wordlessly put down the chopsticks, walking to open the balcony doors. As the brisk Cascade
breeze aired the loft they set the table together in silence and sat down.

"So how did the trial go? Sorry I couldn't be there but I had a thesis committee meeting at the last moment. Did you get my message?"

"Its okay Chief. Rafe passed it on. Besides, how hard could it possibly be to sit down and tell a jury what I saw. You would just have been bored."

"Bored? No way man. The courtroom is like the ultimate place for observing people. You have the jury, which is like a hastily constructed closed society. Just imagine, thrown together with eleven other people, sequestered away, sharing meals and forced to interact with power struggles and everything. Then there's the lawyers who are vying for credibility, kinda like when wolves vie for position of alpha male, and then there's the judge, in control, involved yet outside, observing yet at the same time passing judgements on what flies and what doesn't. Then there's the rest of the courtroom, witnesses, family members, the press, all watching yet somehow involved - looking out for their own interests. I'd never be bored man."

Jim shook his head with a wry grin. *Trust Sandburg to find an anthropological study in perhaps the most boring place in Cascade.* He watched as Sandburg stole a chicken ball of his plate, the chopstick stretching his reach. He continued to watch as the Sandburg engulfed the morsel in one bite, licking his lips to catch the sauce. *Kissable, full, pouting, edible lips.* Jim idly thought

Jim scolded himself internally as he realized the path down which his thoughts had begun to travel. *Down boy. As if Blair could ever be interested in a balding, close-to-middle-age cop for crying out loud.* He didn't realize he was staring until he snapped back to what Blair was
saying, realizing the young man had moved over to crouch by his chair with a hand placed casually on his left thigh.

"...with me? Hey Jim, listen to my voice. Come on Jim. What on earth are you zoned on anyway? Jiiiiimmmmm." His voice took on a singsong quality.

"I hear you Sandburg. I'm okay."

"Geez Jim, what on earth did you zone on? One minute your eating the next . . . whammo." Blair exclaimed

*You Chief, I zoned on you.* "I guess the smell is still bugging me." Jim said, immediately feeling bad as Blair's face filled with remorse. "Don't worry Chief. I'm fine. Eat your rice."

The grin that spread across Blair's face was like a spreading sunrise. As Blair returned to his chair and tucked back into his meal, Jim tried to gather his libido under control, failing miserably. Silently cursing his jeans, he let his memories of his day in court flow through his mind. His burgeoning erection slowly subsided and by the time Blair rose to clear the table, Jim was able to join him in the cleanup without risking complete humiliation. Blair slapped his hands away from the sink taps.

"I got it Jim. You brought supper. I clean up. Go relax. Go, go." Blair said as he flapped his hands. Jim looked at his guide in suspicion as he heard a flutter in the younger man's suddenly rapid heartbeat.

"Everything okay buddy?"

"Oh yeah Jim, just fine." *Yeah fine. How come I have to start having wet dreams about a guy who can smell when someone's aroused. I mean where's the justice in that. It's hard enough . . . ha, that's funny . . . hard. Oh yeah. God, how do you hide that from a Sentinel. Oh shit, he can probably hear my heart. Not *probably* hear, *can* hear. Oh shit.*

"Blair?"

Blair looked up at the unexpected use of his name to see Jim staring at him. Trying to find his calm, Blair simply shook his head and grinned.

"I'm fine Jim. You had a rough day, go enjoy the Jags game. There's cold beer in the fridge," he said, stacking plates into the sudsy water.

"Thanks Chief." Jim went to the sofa and sat down, prepared to let the bizarre behaviour of his guide but making a mental note to keep an eye out for more erratic behaviour.

****

"Come on Chief, we're going to be late. Move your ass!" *Oh yeah, move it right upstairs.* Jim thought as he watched Blair tear about the loft trying to find an errant shoe. He almost moaned out loud as Blair bent over to tie the laces, oblivious to the appreciative audience behind him. *Stop it!* Jim admonished himself.* Lusting after your roommate and partner is not good. And you said Blair would jump a table leg. Who's the dog now?* Blair whipped by him on his way out the door.

"Come on Jim don't dawdle." Blair held the door open, allowing Jim to walk ahead of him, not wanting to overload the unsuspecting Sentinel in his wake. He worried that if he walked beside him, Jim would notice the changes. Herbal shampoo, scented after shave, and baby powder deodorant and a healthy dose of deep meditation to slow his heart, comprised his defence against his partner. If these didn't mask the physical signs of attraction that Jim caused in him, then there was nothing he could do. It wasn't until the two were settling into the cab of the truck that Jim
scrunched his nose and turned to the bundle of nerves next to him.

"Sandburg, what did you do, roll in cologne?" Jim asked in exasperation.

"Ahhh, no Jim. Sorry about that, but I ran out of non-scented shampoo and the store didn't have any. Can you believe it? All those people with allergies and the drug store can't even stock non-scented shampoo." Blair replied, lying smoothly. "Do you want me to drive Jim? You do want to get to the department right? It's hard to do with the engine turned off."

With a huff, Jim turned the ignition and pulled out into the street.

"So Chief, how was that thesis meeting you had yesterday? Any problems I should know about?"

"No, not really. My advisor just wanted to check up on my research and see how my chapters were coming. Just academic stuff, ya know." *Yeah right, no problems. Just a complete lack of objectivity. You can't be romantically obsessed with your research subject. How can I tell Jim I
can't write my thesis on him anymore? Will Simon yank my pass if he finds out? God, what am I going to do?*

When they finally arrived at the precinct and after checking in, the duo parked themselves at the detective's desk to sort through a mound of paper work that threatened to spill of the table. Blair shot Jim sideways glances when he thought the older man wasn't looking and sighed mentally as he watched his partner work. Jim was wearing an ivory turtleneck over jeans and Blair was hard pressed not to simply rest his chin on his hands and drool. *There is something about that turtleneck that is soooooo sexy, hiding the power and muscle but not enough that you could ever forget about it.*

Jim was also sneaking glances. Blair had put on his glasses and as always, after a few minutes they had slipped down on his nose. The studiousness with which Blair attacked Jim's paper work always made the detective grin. As Blair began chewing his lower lip, Jim inhaled sharply and forced his eyes back down to the interrogation transcript in front of him.

The dance continued until an irate Simon called them into his office.

"All right gentlemen, we have a problem. This one came straight from the mayor's office and she wants us to act on this now. Rumour has it that someone has been stalking young students at Rainer in the student bar. There have been unreported claims of at least one sexual assault." Simon explained as he tossed a file folder down on his desk.

"Unreported claims? What the hell does that mean?" Jim interjected in confusion.

"It means that one of the victims was the mayor's nephew who refuses to lodge a formal report on the matter."

"Nephew?" Blair asked.

"Apparently all of the victims are male, which accounts for the lack of reports. Another contributing factor is that a drug similar to Rophynol is involved. None of the victims have clear memories of the attacks which makes identifying the perpetrator near impossible."

"How many victims are we talking about here Simon? And where are these rumours coming from?" Jim asked as he picked up the file and began to look at its contents.

"The unofficial number is seven. And it's all from scuttlebutt on campus. Apparently the news has spread like wild fire across campus so the numbers are a bit sketchy, but seven have confirmed that they were attacked but refuse to make any formal charges that we can use in the investigation." Simon replied as he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Sandburg, have you heard anything about this, from your students or people around campus?"

"Um, not really Simon. I've been kind of out of the loop with thesis research, and that last case and all. I haven't really been socializing that much. Sorry."

"Simon, it says here that all of the victims who did talk have no idea how the drug got into their drinks and no recollection of what happened or where. How does the mayor expect us to do anything?"

"Hey Jim, relax. You can't blame the victims here. Given the way the systems works, it's not surprising that most victims of assault, male or female, wouldn't want to make a report." Blair interrupted. Jim rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Don't start lecturing Chief." Jim paused and pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. "I'm sorry Sandburg. I know that it's hard on people. All I want to know is how we're supposed to catch this guy when no one can i.d. him and we don't know how the drug was even administered."

"The mayor thinks, and I agree, that the only way we'll catch him is to nail him red handed." Simon steepled his hands in front of him and looked intently at the pair seated across from him. "The mayor wants this to be hush-hush. She wants to keep the panic to a minimum at the university and hopefully to keep the whole mess out of the news in Cascade. The last thing she wants is for the city to have the reputation of having a serial rapist on the loose. So we have to catch this guy "

"So where do we come in Simon?" Jim asked, suddenly wary about the direction the conversation was going.

"You won't be able to 'blend in' Jim. The mayor, and she was very specific about this, thinks that Blair would be ideal for surveillance in the bar. Given that he's already a student with a valid I.D., getting him into the bar will be that much easier."

"No way!!" Jim exploded from his chair in a flurry of righteous indignation."How can you even think of sanctioning this?"

"Jim, hey man, calm down." Blair placed a placating hand on the taller man's shoulder. He turned to Simon. "Simon, what exactly would I have to do?"

Jim was slowly turning red. *There is no way in hell this is going to happen, over my dead body.*

"It's strictly surveillance, all we want to do is catch someone slipping a victim the drug."

"Simon, be realistic, how do you think that the kid will be able to catch one person drugging a drink if the victims themselves didn't suspect a thing? This is ridiculous!" Jim interjected through clenched teeth.

"Jim, I don't like this much more than you but there doesn't seem to be that much danger to it. I officially can't order Sandburg to do anything that he doesn't want to do....unofficially I can make this a rather strong request from the mayor, who has never been very happy having a civilian riding along with a cop. This would give him a chance to prove something in her eyes at least."

"Yeah well the both of you could actually talk to me instead of around me." Blair snapped in annoyance. Taking a few deep breaths he continued in a much calmer tone, "Jim, you have as much chance at fitting in at The LavaPit as I would at a Republican convention. Besides, the victims didn't know that they were targets. I'll be expecting something and might be able to stop someone from getting hurt. If I can do that, then I want to help. You can be outside and listening in on a mike or something. We could set up an ear transmitter."

"Uh, Sandburg isn't that what heightened senses are for?" Jim asked in confusion at the mention of the microphone.

"Well normally I'd say yes but the 'Pit is really loud and I'm not sure that you'd be able to tune out the noise. Hmmmm. That's a thought. We'd probably have to practice, set up some tests with frequency modulators, different harmonics, random noise...."

Simon and Jim met each other's gaze and rolled their eyes in unison as Blair babbled on about sound waves, talking to himself while rooting around for paper and a pen.

"There's no escaping this is there Simon?" Jim asked seriously. Simon grinned as he replied,

"Escaping the surveillance or escaping Sandburg's tests?"

******

While Jim sat patiently in the truck, parked unobtrusively in a corner of the university parking lot near the building housing the LavaPit his partner occupied a corner table in the student bar. Blair had given him the historical significance of the bar's name on the way to the university.

"Story goes that in the seventies the students filled this old house with lava lamps, and I mean filled it. They used to watch them when they had... uh... otherworldly experiences."

"Yeah whatever Chief. You just be careful and don't have any 'otherworldly experiences' yourself. You see something you describe him and I'll stop him on the way out. It's that simple. Put this receiver in your ear and remember, the mike is really sensitive."

Lacking sufficient time to test Jim's senses adequately, Blair convinced the detective to opt for the wire. So Blair was inside staving of women by the hordes. Jim let out a sigh as he recalled the heart stopping blue silk shirt that had draped itself so nicely over Blair's shoulders. And those jeans....faded black, tight. Jim shook himself and concentrated on the sounds from the earphone, being careful to keep the dials at normal.

Blair sat rather self-consciously at the table, watching and sipping lukewarm water. *It's a universal law* he thought glumly* water in bars must be warm, just like the beer's always cold.* He surveyed the bar for the umpteenth time, carefully watching those people who got drinks for others. It was Tuesday night so the place wasn't packed. But, seeing as how they were students, it wasn't surprising to see the fairly substantial crowd on a school night. As the attacks were down as only happening on Tuesday and Thursday, they had decided to focus their stakeout on those nights. This was the third night of their surveillance and Blair was becoming increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress and increasingly familiar with the bar tender who was beginning to have a glass of water ready for him before he even reached the bar.

*Dave probably thinks I'm pathetic, sitting at a bar drinking water two nights a week, and I can't even pick anyone up. Not that I'd want to anymore.....No, I am pathetic if I'm on a first name basis with the guy serving drinks.* He snorted water up his nose as he laughed.

*Sandburg you okay?* Jim's voice sounded tinny over the earphone hidden behind a wave of hair.

"Fine Jim, just drowning in water on dry land" Blair whispered discreetly. He ran a hand through his curls and continued his surveillance of the bar. It was going on one o'clock and the bar was
slowing down as people started to stagger home. Dave walked over handed him another glass of water with a grin as Blair drained the one in front of him for the fourth time that night.

"One last one Blair?" Blair accepted with a grin and a nod.

"Thanks Dave, it sure is hot in here today. Put in a plug for an air-conditioner would ya?"

"I don't know Blair, the heat works for people who are here for more than drinking water you know." Dave replied with a flirtatious grin. Blair shook his head. The bar tender had made passes at him for the last week. The young observer handled it with flair, hoping that the other man - who was fairly good looking - wouldn't feel too bad about the brush-offs but Blair knew that it wouldn't be fair to Dave. Dating another man while wishing it was Jim just felt wrong. And besides it felt like he would be cheating on Jim.

*Cheating...yeah right. I wish I could cheat on Jim, at least that would mean we actually had a relationship beyond a really good friendship* He sipped his drink and surveyed the dwindling crowd. Glancing at his watch, he realized that Jim would be expecting him out in the parking lot in ten minutes. Just enough time to go to the little anthropologists room. Downing the rest of the water, he stood.

*Woah* He swayed slightly as the blood seemed to rush to his head.

"Sandburg, you've got five minutes to get out here" came Jim's voice.

Blair grunted an affirmative as he tried to get his bearings. The room swam dizzily. *So that's what tunnel vision is like* he thought with a giggle. The strobe light over the dance light was throbbing in time with his head.

"Hey Blair you don't look so good, let me help you. You okay?"

"Dave...mmhmmm I'm fine just fine. Where's Jim? I can hear him but I can't seem to see him." Blair babbled drunkenly.

"Sandburg? What's going on?"

Blair spun in confusion. He could hear the object of his affection but where was he? He tried to get a handle on his thoughts as they whirled into a maelstrom of confusion.

"Jim? Where are you Jim? I think that something's wrong. Wrong wrong wrong... " Blair trailed off as he tried to force his thoughts into order with no avail.

He vaguely felt a hand on his arm and around his waist guiding him into a hallway. Confused and dizzy he allowed himself to sink into the darkness that shrouded his mind.

****

Jim stewed in the truck. This had to be the most ridiculous idea off all times. Sending in a civilian of all things. What on earth was Simon thinking? Looking at his watch he realized that the bar was closing.

"Sandburg, you've got five minutes to get out here" he ordered into the microphone on his collar. He dialled up his hearing to hear a grunt from his guide. *What is that?* Jim dialled up his hearing even more to hear Blair's heartbeat. His own heart skipped as the lub dub sound was uneven and slow. *Dave...the bartender. What's going on?*

"Sandburg? What's going on?"

Jim kept his hearing up as he concentrated on what he could hear over the earphone. The music of the bar was dissipating and he could dial up even more. Lub dub lub dub lub dub. Without realizing it he sank into the fading sound of his guide's heart and zoned.

****

Blair was vaguely aware of travelling in a car, propped up against the passenger door. He clumsily pulled of the discrete microphone dropping it with nerveless fingers onto the floor of the car. *Won't need that when we get home* He thought muzzily. The same hands he felt at the bar
guided him from the vehicle and into a house. There was a dreamlike quality to his sight and he decided that maybe this dream would turn out as nice as his other more steamier dreams involving a certain buff detective.

"Jim. Jiiiiimmmmm. 'm tired" he mumbled as the hands moved around his waist. He could feel a hard body behind him pressing against his back. For a moment the world tilted and whirled and he found himself on his back in the middle of a queen size bed.

"Bed. Thas good Jm. Sleep."

"Not yet Blair. Not yet." The voice bothered him. This dream was wrong. Where was Jim? What was that voice? His distress penetrated the haze over his mind and he weakly tried to move as he felt his shirt and jeans being efficiently removed by hands. Hands that he couldn't see no matter how hard he tried.

*****

"Hey buddy. Wake up and move on! No loitering!"

Jim jerked from the zone as a bright light slashed across his vision and the bass voice echoed in his ears. He squinted into the flashlight beam and saw the uniform of a university security guard.

"Detective Ellison, Cascade PD. I'm on a stakeout."

"Can I see some identification please?"

Jim dug out his badge and after passing it to the wary guard glanced at the clock. *Oh my god. I was zoned for five minutes*

"Sorry to disturb you Detective. We just like to make sure that loiterers aren't too welcome in the parking lots. It makes the students feel safer."

"Listen, have you seen a student around in the last five minutes? Male, short, with long curly hair?"

"Sorry, I just started my round. Is he missing?"

"I don't know."

After briefly trying to listen in on Blair's wire without any success, Jim left the truck and jogged to the LavaPit. He flashed his badge and the attendant let him in, watching him curiously as he strode into the dimly lit room. Jim glanced around the virtually empty bar and saw only servers wiping down tables and a bar tender wiping down the counter. Jim approached the man at the counter.

"Excuse me. I'm Detective Ellison, Cascade PD. Have you seen a young man around here? He's on the short side, with shoulder length curly hair?" Jim asked hurriedly, scanning the bar with worry.

"Oh, you looking for Blair? He left with Dave a while ago. He wasn't looking too good and Dave was taking him for some fresh air. I think he was going to call a cab for him. Blair's not in trouble is he?"

"Dave? " Jim vaguely remembered Blair talking to someone named Dave. "Where does he live?"

"I don't know. You'd have to ask Mr. Collins" At Jim's impatient look the young man elaborated. "The bar manager. "

"Where can I find him?" Jim asked between clenched teeth. The bar tender sensed the short fuse that the detective was keeping a hold of.

"I'll call him in."

By the time the search for the number of the manager was complete, the waiting for an answering machine was over and the elusive Mr Collins has been pried out of his comfortable bed to open his office in order to obtain the address, Jim was chomping at the bit. Twenty minutes had
passed since he has come out of the zone and his worry for Blair was increasing exponentially. Grabbing the slip of paper in one hand, he speed dialled Simon's number finally having something to act on.

"Hmmm. Jim? This had better be good for you to be calling at.....one thirty in the morning!!!" Simon's sleep fogged voice shouted over the cellular.

"Simon, I think we've found the perp. But he has Sandburg. I'm going to his address right now and I'll need backup." Jim rattled off the address as he peeled out of the parking lot.

Five minutes later, he squealed to a halt in front of a rather nondescript house. He pulled his gun from his holster and cautiously approached the porch. Knocking on the door, he waited for a few seconds before stepping back and decimating the door in his haste to reach his guide. Senses on full alert, he dialled up his hearing and picked out two heartbeats upstairs. One was beating far to fast, but the other, the grounding sound in his life was beating far too slowly.

*Protect the Guide. Danger to the Guide*

The litany ran through his head as his instincts overrode any semblance of reason. He had lost the element of surprise when he had kicked the door in and now relied on speed. The Sentinel ran up the stairs two at a time and stormed the room where his Guide, his friend, the love of his life was being held.

Time stood still for an eternity as Jim tried to process the scene in front of him as he entered the room, gun drawn and ready. The mysterious Dave had barely had time to react to the noise of the door breaking and was looking frantically around the room for a place to run. His shoulders slumped and he froze at the sight of the gun, hands outstretched in surrender. Once the threat was pinned in the sights of his weapon, Jim's eyes were pulled to Blair.

*Blair. Oh, my Blair*

His young friend lay on his back, splayed across the bed, stripped of his clothes. A camera lay discarded on the bed on top of the red silk sheet that lay low on the hips and high on the slightly parted thighs, twisted across Blair's groin, hiding little. His wrists were pulled over his head and tied loosely with thick rope, not that he was capable of any resistence. The restraints seemed to be simply for show and with one leg slightly bent at the knee in a blatantly sexual repose, Blair exuded a sensuality that was unmarred by his unconscious state. His hair was carefully arranged on the matching red pillow cover and the dim light of the room made it shine with an unearthly light, a halo of innocence in a den of iniquity. Jim caught his breath at the vision that lay before
him. Arousal swept through him at the long awaited sight of his guide in the sensual pose but it was annihilated by the sharp stab of rage that followed on its heels. Rage that anyone would dare to touch ~his~ guide. He pulled his eyes away from the figure on the bed and focused them on the man who cringed before the wrath in his gaze.

"Face down on the floor! NOW!" The shout guaranteed compliance and Dave sank to the floor. Hearing the approaching sirens, Jim hurriedly wrenched his prisoner's arms behind his back and cuffed his wrists tightly, ignoring the whimpered protest as the metal bit into skin. As steps sounded on the porch and stairs, Jim moved to the bedside and gently unwrapped the rope from Blair's wrists. A sigh passed through Blair's slightly parted lips at his touch.

"Hmmmm. Jm. whr r ya?" Blair's slurred voice was music to Jim's ears.

"Blair. Blair, can you hear me? Open your eyes Chief. Come on." Jim encouraged his friend and was rewarded by a fluttering of Blair's eyelashes which eventually opened to reveal glazed blue irises. "That's it buddy."

One hand slowly insinuated itself to the front of Jim's shirt and Blair latched on to a handful of flannel with a death grip. But Jim was in no hurry to get his guide to let go. He straightened the sheet and tried to wrap it around as much of Blair as he could so that he wouldn't be completely humiliated when Simon and the officers arrived. Jim pulled the limp form into his arms, supporting his friend against his chest and murmuring comforting endearments. He continued even though Blair seemed completely unaware of his presence, staring blankly at him as though through a fog, but the sheer act of holding and comforting his partner soothed Jim's distraught soul.

"Its okay Chief. I'm here. You're safe, I promise. He can't hurt you buddy."

******

"Detective? Are you here for Mr. Sandburg?" A white coated woman approached Jim with a patient chart clutched in one hand, swinging a stethoscope in the other.

"Yes. How is he? Will he be all right? Can I see him?" *I need to see him*

"Calm down Detective. I'm Doctor Fitzgerald. I treated Mr. Sandburg when he was brought in. Would you mind coming with me? I'll take you to Mr. Sandburg and we can talk along the way."

Jim rose from the plastic chair where he had anxiously been waiting for the last forty minutes. When Simon had arrived in the room, he had quickly taken charge, instructing the accompanying officers to bag all of the evidence and to call for an ambulance. He has cautiously approached Jim who sat on the bed rocking slightly back and forth, his partner cuddled to him. He had laid a hand on Jim's shoulder and stood silently over the pair, offering strength and support to his finest team.

"Call me Jim, please Doctor."

"Very well....Jim. This way please. I understand that there was a concern that your friend was raped, but I'm glad to inform you that there was no actual penetration and there doesn't seem to be any indication of any type of oral sexual activity. Other than the drug in his system, your friend should be quite fine physically." She stopped outside a room and looked frankly at Jim's worried face.

"It could have been much worse Jim. As it stands though, I would definitely recommend counselling to deal with the emotional trauma."

"I thought that you said that he wasn't assaulted" Jim said in confusion. *He's got to be all right.*

"Jim, any sort of forced sexual activity, even if it means that the other man simply held him down and got himself off...please pardon my crudeness...is a form of sexual assault. Unfortunately we are not entirely well equipped to deal with male patients. Men are less likely to come forward with such problems and our resources are only starting to deal with this sort of case. The counselling can wait for a couple of days. Right now what your friend needs is to drink lots of liquid to help get rid of the drug and to sleep it off. He'll be groggy and might experience nausea for the next couple of hours, but nothing that a few hours of sleep won't cure."

Jim took in all the information with a stoic exterior. He should have known that what Blair had gone through constituted assault and that he would need help, but inside he was cringing at the thought of Blair needing therapy to deal with what had transpired.

*Sexual assault. God, why Blair of all people?*

"Can I take him home? I'll be there to look out for him." *He isn't going to leave my sight.* Jim added silently.

"I don't see why not. There's no real reason to admit him and I'd only suggest it if there wasn't someone to keep an eye on him for the next twenty four hours. I will warn you that the drug often causes memory loss or makes the memories very hazy. You have to be prepared for flashbacks and if they happen you'll have to deal with them as soon as possible with counselling. Other than that, he should make a complete recovery. "

"I'll be taking care of him."

"Very well. I can go get the paperwork while you check in with Mr. Sandburg and then we'll discharge him into your care. How does that sound?" The doctor smiled at Jim's relieved grin.

"It's the best news I've heard all day." Dr. Fitzgerald patted his arm and went off into the bureaucratic maze of insurance forms and discharge papers.

Jim pushed open the door to the room and was pleased to see Blair resting curled on his side, covered with a blanket. He gently grasped the hand that wasn't tucked under a chin and stroked the soft skin covering the knuckles. He grinned as two dopey eyes cracked open to look at him.

"hey jim" The whisper was Sentinel soft.

"Hey buddy. How are you feeling?" The eyes closed for a moment as Blair seemed to gather his thoughts to answer.

"okay....actually...jim... I'm going to be..." the rest of the answer was cut off as Blair lurched up and leant over the side of the examination bed and vomited. His aim couldn't have been more true. Jim looked down at the front of his pants and his shoes in dismay. He hastily dialled down his smell, which was already pretty low so that he could deal with the general hospital smells, before he brought up the remains of his own dinner.

"sorry"

Grabbing a cloth from a pile on a nearby table, Jim wiped of as much of the bile and digested food as possible, but not before he retrieved a wax cup of water from the bedside tray for Blair to rinse out his mouth.

"jim?"

"Yeah buddy?"

"wanna go home." Jim helped Blair lay back down and stroked his forehead, brushing back the soft curls.

"Me too, Chief. Me too."

*****

Blair was exhausted. No... make that completely wasted. Like a baby, the ride home had put him into a dozing state from which he did not want to rouse himself. Wrapped in Jim's jacket he was content to stay in the truck forever. Jim, however, had other plans. Seeing that his partner was near comatose, Jim opened the passenger side door and gathered the sleepy guide into his arms and carried him into the building.

After a few precarious moments in getting the door open without relinquishing hold of Blair, Jim managed to settle his precious burden on the couch. On the way up to the loft, Blair had wrapped his arms around Jim's neck in a death grip which he refused to lessen. Jim resigned himself to an uncomfortable night as he manoeuverer himself and Blair into a horizontal position which allowed him to spoon behind his partner. Blair obviously felt comforted by his Sentinel's presence because he gradually settled down and released his hold on Jim and cuddled up to him in contentment. With the comforting sound of Blair's heart acting like a lullaby, Jim allowed himself to relax for the first
time since he had agreed to let Blair go undercover. Sentinel and Guide slept, secure in and comforted by each other's presence.

****

As the midmorning sun entered the windows and shone upon the entangled pair on the couch, Jim slowly became aware that he was not on his bed. In fact not only was he not on his bed, but he was currently sharing the couch in an intimate embrace with the object of his lusting. That was enough to shock him into full awareness.

*What will Blair think?*

As he tried to extricate himself from the tangle of limbs he found himself deeply inhaling the exotic smell of Blair in the morning. A small whimper and a louder groan kept him from zoning on the scent and sight of his current body pillow.

Sleepy eyes met his and their heads were close, so close that Jim could feel Blair's breath moving softly against his face. A pink tongue peeked out of full lips, moistening said lips and driving Jim's breath away.

"Jim...."

"Yes Blair?' It was barely a whisper, but he know that Blair had heard him even without the aid of Sentinel senses.

There was a moment of anticipation. Jim felt the rest of his life resting upon this particular moment, destiny hanging in balance, his guide within his arms, lips so close, looking unbelievably erotic with heavy lidded eyes. Jim held his breath, waiting for Blair to speak, to fulfil Jim's every fantasy.

"You stink."

Jim started. Blair giggled at the stunned look on his Sentinel's face as the older man was caught off guard. Jim realized his dial was turned all the way down and upon turning it up to normal, noted that he had not even changed the fouled pair of pants from the hospital. He grimaced at his own odour and then rapidly dialled his sense of smell back down.

"You're no petunia yourself, buddy." He moved Blair so that they were able to sit up.

"Jim, I...I was kind of... out of it last night. I just wanted to..."

"Blair, you don't have to say anything. All that matters is that you're all right."

"Yeah, well thanks anyway. I don't remember much of what happened. It's all pretty fuzzy." Blair rubbed at this eyes in frustration.

"Jim. I gotta know. Did he...you know...do anything?" Blair asked in a very small voice as if the wrong answer would shatter him.

"He didn't...um.... rape you if that's what you mean." The look of relief in Blair's eyes made Jim's heart ache.

"But he did assault you Blair. He...he tied you up and took pictures. We're not sure if he did anything...like touch you are anything. I was...." Jim paused as he cleared his throat "I wasn't there fast enough to catch him doing anything. He might have though and you just don't remember. The doctor said that you might have some flashbacks"

Jim made as though to touch Blair's shoulder but pulled back, uncertain of what to do.

"Well I guess I'll just have to deal with it as it comes." Blair ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back behind his ears while blowing a lung full of air forcefully through his lips.

"Not 'I' Chief, 'we', we'll deal with it. We're partners aren't we." The smile that lit up Blair's face made Jim involuntarily grin back.

"Yeah Jim. Partners." He laughed as he continued, "Partners that don't steal all of the hot water. Leave some for me when you finished deodorizing yourself."

"Sure Pardner" Jim replied with a Bonanza twang moving towards the bathroom.

"And Jim?"

"What?"

"Don't forget to use the spray" The sound off Blair's light laughter lifted a great weight off Jim's shoulders. Blair would be okay. They would be okay.

******
Finis...