Title Medley

name Scribe

fandom Sentinel/Due South

pairing Jim/Blair/Fraser/Kowalski

status WIP

sequel sequel to 'Melange'

criticism yes

archive yes

feedback poet_77665@yahoo.com

disclaimer Look, I don't keep track of who owns the boys, and I don't believe in slavery to begin with (except possibly of the consensual sexual kind *drool*). In any case, I don't own them, and I am not exploiting them for monetary gain. They WANTED to play. They said so. They fucking INSISTED.

summary: Once again Jim and Blair add variety to their own, and others', love lives. This time it's a pair of visiting officers from Chicago, one of whom just happens to be a Mountie.

This is a sequel to the X Files/Sentinel Xover, 'Melange'.

Medley noun’s

1.music: musical sequence of different songs: a continuous piece of music consisting of two or more different tunes or songs played one after the other
2. mixture of things: a mixture or assortment of various things

Additional note: I believe in the series, Blair cut his hair when he entered the police academy. Well, not in MY universe, he doesn't!

rating NC-17

MELANGE 2: MEDLEY

By Scribe

"Jim?"

Ellison didn't look up from the paperwork spread on his desk. "Yeah, Chief?"

Blair was peering out the window, into the street below. As usual, HIS part of the paperwork was done, and done well. All those years of writing papers at the university had paid off. "Jim, am I asleep right now?"

This got Jim to look up. His partner, Guide, and lover, despite his puckish nature, usually made more sense than this. "Not that I can see, unless this morning has been one bastard of a sleep walk. Why do you ask?"

"I thought maybe I was asleep and having a wet dream."

Alright, this was interesting. Jim put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. "So, what's happening?"

He was staring raptly at something down in the street. "Well, not a hell of a lot right now. But I can hope."

"Blair..."

"There's a Mountie helping an old lady across the street."

Jim was silent for a moment. Then he said slowly, "Chief, I warned you that someday that health food store was gonna slip something iffy in your herbal tea blend..."

"No, Jim, I'm not kidding you. There's a Mountie out there. Red tunic, jodhpur, Smokey the Bear hat, Sam Brown belt, hot as hell black boots and all."

Jim got up, going to the window. "THIS I gotta see."

"Too late. He just came in the building."

A little miffed, Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulder, peering over. No, no Mountie. That didn't mean there wasn't anything, or rather anyONE, interesting out there.

"Okay, Chief, are wet dreams catching?" He was staring at the man who'd just gotten out of a green monstrosity of a car on the other side of the street. He looked about Blair's height, maybe a little more slender, but in a wiry way. He was wearing what was probably the single most hideous shirt Jim had ever seen. He felt like dialing down his vision, the colors were so insulting. But it worked for him. He crossed the street with a gate that was somewhere between a glide and a strut, and disappeared into the front of the building. "THAT was choice."

"Yeah, he's nice. But you didn't see my Mountie."

"Oh, your Mountie, huh?"

"Well, I'd share, if I got him. You know that. But I gotta tell you, Jim, he looks awful top to me. And you just haven't been in a bottom sort of mood lately."

"Complaining?"

"As if."

"Wonder what a Mountie is doing this side of the border?"

"No telling. D'ya think he'll hang around the station long enough for me to get another good leer at him? I'd like a little more fantasy fodder."

"You could always go downstairs in search of...um...supplies? Maybe the copier on our floor quit working?"

"I love you, Ellison, but you come up with the lamest excuses of anyone I've ever known."

"Oh, like you can do better?"

"How about a fund run for the Cops `n Kids program? We're due. And it would actually do some good, besides letting me go Mountie stalking."

"Alright for you. But that doesn't get Me downstairs to look for My object of unrequited lust." Jim tilted his head. "Okay, enough drooling. Company's coming." They resumed their desks.

The door opened, and was promptly filled by approximately six feet of red serge clad Canuck. Jim blinked. Wow, no wonder Blair was slavering.

His Stetson was neatly tucked under his arm, and his brown hair gleamed under the florescents. Eyes no doubt the color of a Canadian sky in spring swept the room quickly, settling on Jim. He obviously decided that Jim was senior officer, and spoke politely, just enough accent coloring his voice to give it an added thrill. "Excuse me, but I am looking for Mr. Simon Banks."

Blair bounced out of his chair. "He's in his office. Come on, I'll take you in." Which was absolutely necessary, of course, since the office was all of a dozen steps away. Eh, he couldn't blame the kid. That was one luscious hunk of Canadian bacon. Still, Blair was right. He was probably a top, if he was gay at all. That was about as butch as it was possible to get.

"That would be most kind of you." He extended a hand, and Blair shook with his usual enthusiasm. "I am Constable Benton Fraser."

"Detective Blair Sandburg. And that's my partner, Detective Jim Ellison." Fraser nodded, and Jim waved.

"Oh, good. Just the two gentlemen we need to see."

Jim felt his eyebrows lift. Well, that was going to make Blair happy. As he thought that, a slightly annoyed voice out in the corridor said, "Benny, are you gonna move your butt, or do I stay out here in the hall for the entire visit?"

"Oh, dear. Excuse me." He stepped into the room. Blair nobly restrained himself from rubbing up against him. For the time being.

Wet Dream-Jim's Version, sauntered through the door. He'd been completely hidden by his companion. "Bout time, Benny. I was starting to get funny looks out there. I think they figured I was a deTAINee trying to pull something." He put his hands on his hips, glancing between Jim and Blair. "Hiya." Jim and Blair answered automatically. He glanced up at Fraser. "So? Do the Miss Manners bit."

"Ray, these are Detectives Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. Detectives, this is my partner, Detective Raymond Stanley Vecchio."

"Call me Stanley." He shook hands with Jim and Blair.

Jim tried not to stare. *Here I thought I was attracted to the intellectual type. I guess street smart can do it for me, too.* Maybe it wasn't so unusual that he felt an instant attraction to the smaller man. exuded a sort of kinetic energy that reminded Jim a bit of Blair.

"Your partner doesn't call you Stanley," Blair observed.

Stanley gave Blair a bland look. "Well, yeah, but he's weird. Nice, but weird."

"How so?" Actually, Benton's physical perfection was almost disconcerting.

"Well, for one thing, he has a wolf."

"A wolf?" That got Blair's attention. He claimed that if reincarnation was true, he had either been a wolf in his last life, or was going to be one in his next `If I'm really, really good.'

"Diefenbaker." Benton clarified, looking as if this merited no further comment.

"And he licks things." Stanley continued.

"Pardon me?" Jim watched Blair shift nervously, and knew exactly what he was imagining the big Mountie licking.

"Taste can be an important investigation tool." Fraser explained, straight faced. He meant this, he wasn't joking. "Of course, one must develop it, and Stanley does not see its efficacy. "

*Blair is going to swoon at any minute. Big, built, sexy, polite, and can use words like `efficacy'.* Jim smiled. "Actually, you're right. It CAN be used effectively. All the senses should be utilized when you examine a scene, or evidence."

Fraser looked at his companion. "You see, Ray? Modern technology is a wonderful thing, but we must not discount the natural methods."

"Yeah, Frase, same song, second verse. Look, we ought to get down to business. There could be some screw up, there usually is, and we haven't got all THAT much time before our flight out leaves. I'm Chicago PD, and they booked us a return flight for about six hours from now. Welch didn't feel like letting the department spring for a room, so we get to do a turn around."

"Detectives, " Fraser volunteered. "We are here to relieve you of one of your miscreants."

"Translated: We got extradition papers on one of your perps."

"Okay, that explains why you're here." Jim eyed Benton's red serge. *Damn, he must spend hours on those brass buttons.* "It doesn't explain why the RCMP are in on this."

"This concerns both the American and Canadian legal systems, and I am liaison for the Canadian consulate in Chicago. Raymond and I work very closely."

"So, which of our bad boys are you after?" Blair asked.

"Solomon Tyson, AKA Solly the Sneak, soon to be known as Solly the Snitch. If he lives that long." Stanley ran a hand through already spiky blonde hair.

"Tyson...Tyson..." Jim looked questioningly at Blair.

"About a week ago, Big Guy. It was a pretty minor thing, so that's probably why it didn't stick in your mind." Blair looked back at Benton. "It was an accidental bust, really. I'm waiting at a taco stand while Jim here gets his daily dose of sodium and artery filler..." Benton nodded, and looked pointedly at Stanley, who whistled and stared at the ceiling, "...and this guy comes up and wants to buy a lid of grass off me. Turns out someone had told him that a dealer hung out there. He took one look at this..." Blair flipped his hair, "and just assumed I was it. Easiest bust we've ever made."

"An indication that marijuana does, indeed, kill brain cells." Benton observed.

"But what interests you guys in a simple grass buyer? Unless there's more to Solly than meets the eye?" Blair was concentrating on Fraser. Jim decided that it was only fair to Stanley if he gave him equal attention.

"Very astute, Detective Sandburg..."

"Blair and Jim."

"Thank you kindly. Please call me Benton." He glanced pointedly at Vecchio, who sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, first names all around. I'll add you guys to my Christmas card list for getting Solly for us. We've been after his ass for months, but he just dropped out of sight. Look, you guys should hear this, but we need to talk to Banks, too. Why don't we save breath and tell all of you at once?"

"Sure!" Blair put his hand on the small of Benton's back, guiding him toward the inner office. "Right this way."

*Careful, Blair. Don't slip and grab his ass. Not in the office, anyway.* Jim watched Blair affectionately. He hadn't seen his lover this instantly lust struck since that FBI agent, Fox Mulder.

Stanley jerked his head after the couple, lifting his eyebrows at Jim. "Well, shall we?"

As Jim followed the small, but undeniably perfect, ass, he thought, *Oh, I hope so. I certainly hope so.*

Part Two

Simon watched, bemused, as Stanley flopped in one of the two chairs before his desk, and Fraser tried to get first Blair, then Jim to accept the remaining seat before being persuaded to take it himself, with a heartfelt, "Thank you kindly." Blair made the introductions, prompting the Mountie to leap up once again to shake hands. Stanley noted Simon's stare as Fraser resumed his seat. As he shook Simon's hand himself, he nodded wryly. "Yeah, Benny has that effect on
people."

"So, Constable Fraser, Detective Vecchio, you're here to extradite a prisoner? May I see the paper work?"

"Of course. How remiss of me." Benton started to unbutton his tunic. Jim was glad that Blair was standing behind Benton, out of his line of sight. The look of surprised joy on his face was palpable. The Mountie reached into his tunic and removed a couple of forms, then handed them to Simon. He explained. "I hope you do not mind. I prefer not to fold them, if possible, and this is much easier to deal with than carrying a briefcase for such a small amount of paper work."

"I think it's ingenious." Blair, murmured.

"Why, thank you." Fraser gave him a dazzling smile over his shoulder. "You know, for centuries the Inuit have carried small, important items inside their clothing, close to their body for added protection."

Blair's face lit up. "Tribal culture? I'm an anthropologist!"

Benton's smile grew, if anything, more pleased. Jim and Stanley groaned simultaneously. They exchanged startled, then commiserate looks.

"Please don't get him started about the Inuits," Stanley begged. "We'll miss our flight. We only have six hours. Benny, we need to tell them why we're here. You can set up a cultural exchange program, or lecture schedule, or whatever, with Sandburg later."

"You're right, of course, Ray. I apologize. Yes, Captain Banks. We are here, as the papers say, for one Solomon Tyson. Mr. Tyson is wanted in connection with the sale of stolen merchandise. In particular, a 17" Panasonic computer monitor."

"You came all the way out to Cascade to pick up a perp for THAT? The airline tickets cost more than the merchandise."

"Yes sir, we are aware of that. But that is merely the initial charge. You see, the monitor was determined to be part of a shipment that was confiscated as it was being smuggled into Canada. While one monitor is not much, an eighteen wheel tractor trailer truck full of them most certainly is."

"How did you know this monitor came from that batch?" asked Jim, curiously. He moved to stand beside Simon's desk, because he was afraid that Fraser was going to wrench his neck, twisting around politely to look at his listener when he spoke.

"Serial numbers. He offered it for sale to a young man who was participating in our Cops and Computers outreach program. A very gifted young man, I might add. Thankfully he seems to intend to use his computer skills on the side of law and order instead of `hacking', I believe they call it. We are choosing to ignoring the fact that he accessed police files in order to check the serial number."

Jim nodded. "A semi full? Yeah, that's a bit of change, alright. Worth a trip."

Stanley smirked. *Oh, what I'd like to do to that mouth.*, Jim thought. "That isn't ALL, though. Solly is in a world of trouble."

"You see," Fraser went on. "With Chicago being the third largest city in the United States, located as it is on Lake Michigan and being on route for several major traffic arteries, our area does an inordinate amount of commercial shipping of all kinds. Millions of dollars each fiscal year, if not billions? Isn't that so, Ray?"

"Benny, I don't keep track of the freakin' commerce records. That's for the public relations people to bull shit tourists. All I know is that a shit load of contraband and hot stuff passes through every year."

"As Raymond said, a...great deal of smuggling and hijacking takes place in our jurisdiction. Much of the goods are either taken from, or end up in Canada, thus my involvement. We do our best, along with the port authority and coast guard, but the territory is just too extensive for us to be really effective on our budget."

"Okay," Jim said. "You have a problem. How does a small time booster figure in? He just arranged for a monitor to `fall' off that truck, didn't he?"

Stanley ran his hand over his hair again, grinning. "Not exactly. Ya see, Solly is the nephew of Bernardo Tyson. Or, as he's known in certain circles `Bust the Border Bernie'. Bernie has been operating most of the smuggling and hijacking going on in Illinois for the past twenty years."

"Nephew?" Blair rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me."

"Yup. Nepotism." Jim grinned. *Hm, Benton isn't the only one who can use two dollar words.* " Bernie gave his little sister's idiot child a job." Stanley laughed. "God bless stupid criminals. They're the ones who get caught. And in this case, we're hoping Solly will help us catch his uncle Bernie."

Simon frowned. "He might not cooperate. Do you think he'll turn?"

"I think he'll spin like Anna Pavlova up on tippie toe, once we get our hands on him. He ran because he was more afraid of his uncle than of us. Bernie doesn't like people doing things that draw the attention of the authorities. Especially since all the geek had to do was draw a paycheck, and instead he got greedy."

"Solomon, sad to say, has not led a blameless existence prior to this incident." Fraser sounded for all the world as if he were genuinely grieved by the crooks bad behavior. "He has already served small terms for two felony convictions. This will be his third."

"Ball park justice." Stanley stated. "He's on his third strike. They'll put him UNDER the pen. UNLESS..." He held up one finger.

"He sings." Blair concluded.

Stanley nodded with satisfaction. "Like it's kareoke night at the Ramada Inn, and he's had a few too many."

"Ray expresses himself rather colorfully, but yes, that is the gist of the situation." Fraser agreed.


"Well," Simon said, "I'm sure Sandburg and Ellison won't mind putting aside that little pot bust in the interest of the greater good."

Blair shrugged. "Of course not."

"That is most considerate of you, Blair." Fraser said sincerely. "I do hope that I will be able to repay you in some small manner."

Blair's eyelids dropped to half mast. "Oh, we'll think of something."

Simon got on the phone. "I'll just tell holding to get him ready for you. Yeah, Prescott? You have a perp down there on a grass buy charge by the name of Solomon Tyson. We need..." Simon paused, frowning. "What do you mean, not for long? You aren't trying to release him, are you? I thought he couldn't make bail." Another pause. "What ambulance? Oh." Another pause. "Well, damn. Sure, you have to. I'll tell the officers."

Simon hung up. Stanley said sourly, "Ya know, I have a feeling you're about to tell me something that I'm really not going to like."

"Tyson has been experiencing nausea and diarrhoea since yesterday."

Jim winced. "I really didn't need to know that."

Ignoring him, Simon continued. "He's running a temperature. He's experienced abdominal pain, moving from around the belly button to the lower right quadrant, approximately a third of the way diagonally toward the curve of the hipbone."

Fraser's forehead wrinkled. "Oh, dear. That would seem to indicate appendicitis."

Simon nodded. "An ambulance is on the way to take him to the hospital for an exam and a white cell count. If that's what it is, they'll do the operation. In any case, he isn't going anywhere soon except to the emergency room."

Stanley slapped his hands on the chair arms. "Well, crap! The little bastard has to go and get an inflamation of a totally useless scrap of flesh at exactly the right time to throw a wrench into things."

"He did not do it on purpose, Ray." Fraser said mildly.

Stanley's tone was belligerent. "Yeah? How do you know?" At Benton's accusing stare, he sighed. "Alright, okay, I know. But what are we gonna do NOW?"

Benton looked thoughtful. "I believe the most logical course of action would be to call Lieutenant Welch and inform him of the situation before making any decisions on our own." Fraser pulled out his wallet and extracted a small plastic card. "Sir, if you would allow me to use your telephone, I have a calling card."

"Be my guest." Simon pushed it toward him. "Punch nine to get out."

"Thank you kindly."

As Fraser carefully read the information off the card and punched in a long string of numbers, Jim whispered to Stanley, "Is he always like this? So...so..."

"Perfect? Yeah. He makes Eagle Scouts blush with envy. But you can't really dislike him for it, he's such a nice guy. He's not trying to show anyone up. It's just how he is."

They listened as Fraser explained the situation to the Lieutenant. Then Fraser listened himself, nodding. "Yes, sir. I see. No, sir. Of course. Will you be so good as to inform Inspector Thatcher? Yes, she will see that Diefenbaker is cared for. Thank you. Yes, sir. As soon as we know. Good bye." He hung up.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," Stanley grimaced. "We're stuck, right?"

"That is correct, Ray. Lieutenant Welsh feels that it would be shamefully extravagant to fly back to Chicago for a day or two when we will only have to return. He pointed out that it will be much less expensive if we acquire temporary lodging and return with Mr. Tyson once he is recovered sufficiently to travel."

"Mhm. And did Welsh hint at how we were supposed to PAY for these accommodations?"

"The department will reimburse all expenses."

"In about six months. But Benny, you got to have money to spend in the first place for them to reimburse you. I got forty bucks to last me till next payday. I know damn good and well that won't buy a rat hole for one night, and I chipped up my Mastercard with a pair of scissors in self defense. What about you?"

Fraser frowned. "Goodness, Ray. You know I don't have a credit card. I don't believe in them."

"One of these days, Benny, you're gonna wander back through that time warp into the Victorian era." Stanley looked at Simon hopelessly. "I don't suppose they'd have a couple of spare cots at the Academy?"

"They're capacity."

"Say!" said Blair brightly.

Jim forced down a smile. *Here it comes.*

"I have an idea. We have some spare room at our place. You two could crash there till it was time for you to split. You wouldn't mind, would you, Big Guy?" Blair turned Horny Puppydog eyes on his lover.

*Oh, like I'm going to say no when you look at me like that. Besides, I wouldn't mind having Blondie near to hand.* "Nah, that'd be great. You and Fraser could discuss...uh, primitive cultures."

"You are certain it would be no bother?" Fraser asked diffidently. "I could easily sleep on a couch or the floor. I am used to it."

Blair cocked his head. "I just noticed. You never use contractions."

"No, I do not. My grandmother Fraser considered them a form of slang, and therefore a linguistic abomination."

Stanley volunteered. "Frase may not care if he dosses on the floor, but I DO. I want a nice, soft, warm, comfortable bed after that damn plane ride."

"Ooh, I think I can provide that." Jim said, glaring at Blair when he giggled. "Why don't we go on down to holding so you can get a look at Tyson before they ship him off?"

"Sounds like a plan." Stanley got up and slipped past Jim, exiting the office. Jim dialed up his sense of smell, and drank him in as he passed.

*Gum, Irish Spring soap, some sort of spicy after shave, almost smells like cinnamon and vanilla. Yummy.* Jim caught up with him at the hall, and Blair and Fraser followed. Blair was telling him about certain similarities between the Inuit culture and the Peruvian indian tribe Jim had spent time with. Fraser looked fascinated. "Those two seem to be hitting it off well," Jim commented.

Stanley slid a glance back at the other two. His gaze was a mixture of pride, exasperation, and affection. "Yeah. I'm glad. I'm a little impatient with Benny about his Canadian folklore and stuff sometimes. I keep wanting to ask him what it has to do with the price of eggs. The funny thing is, he's right a lot of the time. It DOES sometimes apply to things that are going on in our cases, even if it is in a cockeyed way." He grinned. "It just hurts like pulling teeth to admit it."

"Testify, my brother."

"You too?"

"I admire the hell out of Blair, but I usually don't want to hear how the ancient Minoan system of family values impacts on a money laundering racket we're investigating."

"He can find connections with THAT? Damn, and I thought Benny was convoluted. So, we both got odd ball partners we probably wouldn't swap for all the gold in Fort Knox." He slid a brilliant blue gaze toward Jim as they entered the elevator. "What else do you suppose we got in common?"

Part Three

Vecchio was watching Jim with those sapphire bright eyes. The doors of the elevator started to close. Blair and Fraser were paused, still back near the office. Blair was speaking animatedly, hands flying about in illustration. If you cuffed Blair, he'd be rendered half mute. *Well, except for some real interesting moans and whimpers.* Jim reminisced. He didn't have to dial up his hearing to know that the Guide was on one of his patented Sandburg cultural rambles. The Mountie looked enthralled.

Jim reached up to block the sliding doors, and was surprised when Stanley took hold of his sleeve and tugged his arm down. As the doors slid closed, he said, "They snooze, they lose. Benny would rather take the stairs, anyway." He punched the ground floor button, then leaned back against the metal wall, folding his arms. "So, Ellison. You married?"

Jim put his fists on his hips. "Pretty direct, aren't you, Vecchio?"

Stanley shrugged. "Just finding points of mutual reference. Myself, I'm divorced."

"Me, too."

"Amicable, or nasty?"

"Not really nasty, but it hurt. No kids, thank God."

"That was one of the main problems with mine. No kids. Stella and me didn't see eye to eye on that, so I guess it was a mistake from the start." He was silent for a moment. Then, "You with someone?"

"Ye-ah, actually, I am." Jim paused. "But he's the understanding sort." He watched Stanley carefully for his reaction. If he'd misjudged this, he'd fucked up royally.

Stanley's eyebrows rose. "Good."

There was a ping, and the doors slid open. Jim found himself facing a red wall, which on second glance turned out to be Fraser. "Ray," he scolded. "That was rude of you." He looked at Jim apologetically. "I know it was not your fault, Jim. Ray has very peculiar ideas of humor sometimes. I myself did not mind, Ray, but Blair should not have been forced to exert himself in that manner."

"Hey, I didn't mind, Benton." Blair piped from behind him.

*I bet you didn't, Blairboy. You followed that ass all the way down, didn't you?* Jim explained, "My hand slipped, Benton. Come on."

They trooped back to the holding cells, and were shown into the one containing Solomon Tyson. He was curled up on his bunk, shivering. The room stank of vomit and shit, and the toilet in the corner was in none too fresh condition. Jim wished that he could dial his sense of smell down BELOW normal.

Now Jim remembered Tyson: a skinny guy with bad skin, who looked like a Yorkshire Terrier had climbed up on his head and died there. And smelled like said Yorkie had been there for some time. Still, it was hard not to feel some sort of pity for the poor prick. He was so obviously miserable. His ratty face was pasty, and coated with sour smelling sweat. While his tiny eyes had never been bright with intelligence, and seldom with good will, they now positively glinted with pain. Any sympathy evaporated the second he opened his mouth.

"Mother fuckin', cock suckin, sunuvabitch, shitheel, crappy ass hole licking', dickhead pigs!"

Jim felt the urge to cover Benton's ears. The Mountie turned a shade only slightly paler than his tunic. He said primly, "Mr. Tyson, I understand that you are in pain, and not in the best of moods. But there is no call for such language."

"Who da fuck are youse? Emily Fucking Post?"

"No, I am Constable Benton Fraser, and..."

"Benny, that was a rhetorical question." Stanley interrupted. "We love you, too, Solly. How's the gut?"

"Feels like I done swallowed fuckin' groun' glass mixed wit' lye, that's how. How's yer slut mother?"

"Collecting what your ma makes on her back with the fleet. Are we through pissing now? Can we talk?"

Solly groaned. "I got nuttin' ta say onnacounta my lawyer sez stuff it."

"Public defender, Solly?"

"Nah." He gave a smug sneer. "Unca Solly sent me a REAL lawyer. You ain't extractin' me back ta Chi. I'm stayin' here, an' dis pissant pot bust is gonna go away."

Stanley squatted down next to the bunk, putting his face on level with Solly's. Jim admired his dedication to work. Personally, he didn't like being in the same building with the creep. "Is THAT what he told you, Solly?" Stanley glanced at Blair in grave inquiery. "Is that so, Detective Sandburg? Has someone tried to make Solly's bust go away?"

"Why, no, Detective Vecchio, they have not." Benny gave Blair a look of approval at his verbal correctness.

Stanley looked back at Solly. "See, Solly? Uncle Bernie doesn't give a rat's ass if you rot inside or not. The DA back in Chicago, on the other hand, is willing to do a deal and keep your skinny, stinky butt out on the streets."

"Are ya fuckin' kiddin' me? Bernie would toast my nuts an' feed `em ta me. He'd fuckin' kill me."

Benton was looking around the room, puzzled, as his partner spoke to the prisoner. Jim and Blair watched in astonishment as he bent down and sniffed at several places on the floor. At last he said to Blair, "Blair, are you aware of the schedule of your extermination regime for the holding cells?"

"What?"

Stanley translated. "He wants to know when you last sprayed for bugs. What's that got to do with anything, Benny?"

"There is a peculiar odor." He leaned over the toilet and sniffed. Jim tried not to gag. Could dedication be taken too far?

"I don't know," Blair said. "Quarterly? Not any time lately, anyway." He looked at Jim for affirmation. Jim nodded. He would have known. It would have been absolute hell with his sense of smell.

"Very odd. Excuse me." He bent close to Solly's face, sniffing.

Solly jerked back. "Whatarya, queer? Geddaway from me!"

Fraser frowned. "Mr. Tyson, has anyone other than a corrections officer given you anything to eat or drink recently?"

"What of it? It was jus' a fuckin' cuppa coffee, an' it tasted like shit anyways. I t'rew mosta it away after da suit left."

Fraser's forehead puckered in concern. "Oh dear. I do believe that Mr. Tyson has been poisoned."

"Huh?" "Whaddafuck?" "Poisoned?!" "BENNY!" Blair, Solly, Jim, and Stanley all spoke at once.

"There is a distinct odor of bug spray in Solly's vomitus and around his mouth. Potassium chlorate, an ingredient in many insecticides, can induce nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and abdominal pain. I believe that it would be prudent to have Mr. Tyson treated for ingestion, as well as being tested for appendicitis. Inducing vomiting is usually the first course of action in such cases." He glanced again at the toilet. "However in this case, such action would be rather redundant."

Two paramedics arrived just as Fraser finished speaking, rolling a gurney before them. The law officers exited the cell to allow them to do their job. Fraser told them of his suspicions, and the nodded agreement. Before a groaning, and now even more distressed Solly was wheeled out, it was decided that Stanley would accompany Solly in the ambulance, rather than cuffing the prisoner to the gurney, as usual. Fraser would follow with Jim and Blair.

It was crowded in the cab of the truck, not that either Jim or Blair minded. Fraser took the center, even though it meant his long legs were a bit cramped, after Blair confided that he just didn't feel secure riding anywhere but shotgun. Then the anthropologist threw his arm across the seat back, behind Benton's neck, and had an excuse to fall against him when Jim took a corner. Jim reflected that, if they drove far enough, Sandburg would probably find a way to work himself into the Mountie's lap.

Stanley was allowed to accompany Solly back into an exam room, mainly because he simply refused to hear the nurse's protestations. "There's a chance that someone is trying to off our prize song bird, Florence. I'm not leaving him till I find out for sure." The other three went to the cafeteria to wait for word.

When Blair saw Fraser considering the shriveled remains in the steam table, he said, "Benton, tell me you aren't seriously considering eating HOSPITAL food when you aren't hooked to an IV?"

"Well, Blair, while it does not seem very palatable, I am sure it is mostly harmless, inexpensive, and bound to be nourishing. In any case, they did not serve a meal on the plane, and we did not had time to go in search of a noon time repast if we were to accomplish our goal. Now it seems we have the time, and I am feeling quite peckish."

"But don't give in and subject yourself to THAT. It shouldn't take long to find out about Tyson. Hang on and Jim and I will treat you and your partner to dinner."

*We will? Sure, standard Sandburg theory. Studies have shown that the desire for food and sex are two of the strongest drives in man. Ergo, feed them, then fuck them.* "Sure. It'd be our pleasure."

"That would be most considerate of you. I am sure that Stanley will be pleased."

They settled on coffee, which probably tasted marginally better than the bug spray laced stuff Tyson had gotten, Blair reflected. "Tell me about your wolf, Benny."

"Diefenbaker. Well, you see, he is not really mine. We are companions. He is a fine beast, with few bad habits. Since coming to Chicago, I fear, he has acquired bad dietary habits. The officers at the station are careless about where they leave their jelly donuts. I am not so worried about his pizza habit, as it includes meat and dairy products, but I do with he would stick to plain cheese. The pepperoni is bad for him, and the anchovies make his breath unpleasant."

Jim settled back to listen, reflecting that perhaps Blair, with all his natural herbal remedies and meditation, wasn't quite as far into the fringe as he'd thought.

Part 4

Stanley came into the cafeteria, a disgusted look on his face. Coming to the table, he licked one index finger and sketched a stroke in the air. "Chalk one up for Canada. You were right, Benny. Bug spray."

Blair frowned. "How could they tell?"

"They analyzed a sample. Had absolutely no trouble getting one, the state Solly's clothes were in. I think they're gonna burn them as toxic waste."

"That is most distressing." Fraser bit his bottom lip, and Blair watched with interest. "Will he live?"

Stanley shrugged. "The doc says that if he survives the next eight hours, probably. He had the coffee about three hours ago, and twelve hours is critical time."

"It's a good thing you caught that odor, Fraser," Blair said. "Otherwise they'd have treated him for appendicitis, and he would have died."

"Oh, he's got appendicitis, too." They stared at Stanley, who nodded. "Yup. Of course, they can't operate right now, `cause it would be too much of a strain on his system." Stanley held up his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "Turns out that Solly has a _teeny_ bit of a heart problem. They got him on massive antibiotics, which are giving his a mother of a case of hives. This has got to be the most unlucky bastard I've ever run across."

"What does this mean for you?" Jim asked.

He sighed. "We're still stuck. First, we gotta wait and see if Solly kicks it. Then if he doesn't, he has the appendix jerked, rests up for about a day, and we finally toddle his ass back to Chi. You guys are stuck with us till day after tomorrow at least."

"No problem." Blair said promptly.

"We cannot thank you enough, Blair. Jim."

"Yes, you can, Fraser." Jim assured him. "Please stop. We know you're grateful. It isn't like we're giving you a kidney. Now, I suggest that we keep an eye on Solly while he's here. If word gets back to Bernie that the spiked coffee didn't work..."

"I see your point, Jim," Fraser agreed. "I will stay. Stanley needs his rest."

*Why did I know you were going to volunteer?* Jim shook his head. "Look, hospital security can take care of him for the next few hours. Let's go get dinner, then we can work out shifts. Blair and I will share the responsibility. After all, he's ours, too."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Stanley rubbed a hand over his flat belly. "Any good rib joints in this area? I'd kick a nun for a good rack of ribs."

"Stanley."

"Not literally, Frase. Geez."

Blair and Jim exchanged glances. "Skeets, Blair?"

"Benny," Blair asked, "Do you like mesquite grilled food?"

He thought. "I do not believe I have ever had any."

"Oh, you've been deprived. Skeets it is, then."

As they walked out to the truck, Stanley said, "How are we gonna do this? There's four of us." Fraser started to open his mouth. "Don't volunteer to ride in the back."

"I was not going to." Fraser sounded hurt. "I was going to suggest that either you or Blair might sit on my lap."

Walking a few paces behind the Mountie, Blair looked up at the sky and mouthed, `Thank you', then said, "Sounds do-able. You take the middle, Stanley." He looked up at Fraser from beneath his eyelashes. "Unless you think I'd be too heavy, Benny?"

"Certainly not," Fraser said heartily. "I am sure you are light as a feather."

"Smart move, Sandburg* Jim thought, admiringly. *You knew he wouldn't let you feel like you were a bother. And bless you for putting Stan next to me. He smells so good I'm having a hard time not licking him.*

On the way to Skeets, Blair, perched neatly on the Mountie's strong thighs, twisted this way and that, indicating points of interest. Stanley watched, amused, as the more he squirmed, the redder his partner's face got. By the time they reached the restaurant, Benton was tugging at his collar, as if it were strangling him.

The restaurant was small and looked functional. As they stepped out of the truck, Stanley lifted his nose and sniffed the rich aroma of roasting meat hungrily. "Oh, man! I'm drooling like Pavlov's dog!"

"This place is the best." Jim led the way to the door. "None of that sweetened ketchup sauce. They use a dry rub."

The interior was just as no nonsense as the exterior. Interior decoration consisted of badly out of date scenic calendars and a set of patently false Longhorn horns above the counter. The linoleum on the floor was so old that whatever pattern it had once had was blurred into an amorphous mass, and it was buckled and blistered. But it was scrupulously clean, quite an accomplishment in a barbeque joint.

The quartet paused near a sign that said `PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED', and Stanley and Benton started studying the menu hung over the counter. "Crap," Stanley muttered. "It isn't expensive, but I still gotta leave a little to tide me over."

"Don't worry about the cost," Jim said firmly. "Our treat. The department will reimburse us, since you two are here on police business." *Maybe. But who cares? I don't want you grumpy, Stan.* Benny started to say thanks, saw Jim's look, and settled for nodding and smiling sweetly.

A family came up to the counter to check out. A tiny girl of about three stared up at Benton, round eyed. He smiled at her gently. She piped, "Are you a giant?"

"No, little lady. I am a constable."

"A what?"

Blair squatted down to speak to her. "He's a super hero. He catches bad guys."

Her eyes got even bigger. "Really?" She looked at Blair. "What's your name?"

"Blair."

She frowned, looking perplexed. "Are you a lady?"

Jim clapped a hand over his mouth to choke back the laughter, Stanley turned around quickly, and Fraser said seriously, "No. Blair is my...sidekick."

This seemed to satisfy the little girl, and she waved goodbye to them as she left. Stanley was regarding Benton with a half smile. "Benny, when did you grow a sense of humor?"

"I've always had one, Ray. It is simply different from yours. For instance, I see nothing at all amusing in three grown men poking each other in the eyes."

"The Three Stooges!" Jim and Stanley chorused.

Jim looked at Stanley. "Favorite stooge?"

"Curley."

"Of course."

"BLAIRANJIM!" The two Chicago cops flinched at the basso shout. The Cascade officers just grinned and each opened his arms. A massive woman with improbably red hair rushed them, her footsteps sending a noticeable tremor through the floor. She scooped both of them into one warm embrace. "Where you BEEN, you bad thangs?"

"Been busy, Mama Ivy." Blair squeaked. "Ribs! Ribs!"

"Shoot, child. Toughen up. You don't hear your man complainin', do you?" Jim glanced worriedly at his guests, but their faces reflected only good natured astonishment. Mama Ivy was a bit...overwhelming at first.

She released them, and Jim said, "Mama Ivy, we have some fellow officers visiting from Chicago, and we thought we'd show them the right way to do barbeque. This is Ray Vecchio, and Benton Fraser."

Ivy put her hands on her ample hips, tucked all of her chins, and raked a thorough gaze over the two men. Then she gave them a blinding smile. "Well, ain't this my lucky night? Now I got four pretty men to feed: two no bigger than a minute an' two tree-top tall. I must be livin' right for the Lord to bless me so. Come on, honey. I got a booth for ya'll." She snagged four menus from a pile on the counter and led them to the back of the room.

They all squeezed in the partners taking sides together, Benton and Blair on the inside, and started studying the menu. "What do you boys want to drink?" Blair, Jim, and Stan opted for beer. Benton politely asked for tea.

Not looking up from the menu, Stan explained, "HOT tea."

Ivy nodded. "No ice."

"No. Hot. As in heated." Ivy looked scandalized, and Stanley glanced up at her. "He's Canadian." Ivy nodded, as if this explained everything, and left. "I can't decide between the beef short ribs and the pork spare ribs."

"Then don't decide." Jim folded his menu. "We'll get both and split."

Ray grinned. "Champion. And fries."

"Coleslaw."

"Baked beans."

"Where the hell will you PUT all that?"

Ray leaned an elbow on the table, propping his chin in his hand. "Small body, big appetites."

Benton was frowning at the menu. "I all sounds delicious, but I have had plenty of cholesterol this week."

Blair tapped the menu. "Grilled lemon-basil turkey breast. That's what I'm having. Ivy makes a wicked pilaf to go with it. Got pecans in it."

"That sounds tasty."

Ivy returned with the drinks. Setting a steaming mug in front of Fraser she said doubtfully, "Here ya go, hon. I hotted you up some Lipton's in the micro." She watched as he took a sip, then smiled charmingly. She was too busy taking the orders to notice the horrified look he gave the cup while she was preoccupied.

When she left, Blair said, "You'll pardon the pun, but not your cup of tea, huh?"

Fraser took a sip of water to clear his pallet. "The word `foul' does come to mind."

The food arrived quickly. Mama Ivy confided that she'd threatened to pitch the cook into the smoker if he didn't put a rush on the order for her favorite boys. Fraser and Blair eyed the heaped platter of steaming ribs set between Jim and Stanley with open dismay. As Jim selected his first, a chunky short rib, Blair said severely, "I can hear your arteries clogging already."

"So put your fingers in your ears."

Benton and Blair continued discussing Canadian culture ("Oxymoron," Stanley had confided quietly to Jim) while their partners concentrated on the food. Jim watched in amazement as the smaller man denuded bone after bone, piling them to one side, and not neglecting the side dishes. "Christ, Vecchio. I'm glad I didn't have your parents' food bill when you went through adolescence. Piranhas leave more meat on the bone."

Stanley was in the process of stripping a sparerib. He paused, and shook the bone at Jim. "I don't believe in wasting good, sweet meat." His lips and fingers were greasy. "This is how you can tell good barbeque: if you feel like a barbarian while you're eating it. I feel ready to go out and rape and pillage." Before Fraser could open his mouth he said, "Just an expression, Benny."

"I should hope so."

Jim was helping himself to a little more coleslaw when the foot nudged his under the table. He didn't pay it much mind, since things were pretty crowded down there. When it nudged him again, he glanced at Blair. No, Blair was absorbed in watching Benton sketch the Inuit symbol for `wolf' on a paper napkin. He looked up to find Stanley watching him, gnawing the last shreds of meat from the last rib. Jim's eyebrows lifted. So did Stanley's. The nudge came again. *Well, now.*

The touch was soft, so Vecchio must have slipped his shoe off. Jim felt the sock clad toes quest over the arch of his foot, then edge under his cuff to stroke his ankle. Ellison had never had a foot fetish, but there was something undeniably erotic about this.

Stanley finished his meal, and scrubbed his face and hands with a napkin. Then he slumped, patting his stomach with a contented sigh. As he stretched out, his foot glided up Jim's calf, and stroked up and down. Jim started to get hard. Blair and Benton continued eating and chattering, not noticing that their companions had both become very quiet.

Jim casually scooted forward a couple of inches, spreading his knees apart. Stanley gave him a small smile. The foot went to his knee, and stayed there for a moment. Then slowly, with firm pressure, it slid along the inside of his thigh and came to rest against his fly. The toes started to wiggle.

He became erect very fast. In the only a couple of minutes his cock was feeling strangled in his jeans. The maddening foot kneaded the bulge at his crotch firmly, rubbing and twisting. Jim would have humped against it if he thought he could do so without drawing attention.

Blair said something. "What's that?"

The foot flexed. "He said he and Benny are through. What about you, Jim?" It flexed again, and Stanley's smile widened. "You done yet?"

There was a rough edge to Jim's voice. "Not yet. But let's take care of the check."

Part 5

When he stood up out of the booth, Jim snagged an abandoned menu from another table and casually held it at crotch level. Blair and Benton didn't seem to notice, as they were involved in a discussion now about hunting traditions. Stanley smirked, and there was a bit of extra swagger in his walk as they went to the front. *Oh, you're gonna PAY when I get you alone, Vecchio. That strut's going to be a little stiff by the time I get through with you.*

Mama Ivy scolded them about not having dessert, and pressed a whole pecan pie on them before they left. "Ya'll would be doing me a favor, sugar. If I don't give it away, I'll eat the whole damn thing by myself, and I can't afford to lose my girlish figure. You boys might stop coming to see me."

She was pished and toshed about that, and received a kiss from both Jim and Blair. Then she expectantly offered her cheek to Stan. He laughed, and smacked her heartily. "I'll marry you, if you'll move to Chi with me."

She snorted, smiling. "Little Bit, I'd wear you out."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. "Don't you believe it. I'm the Energizer Bunny of lovin'."

Another laugh, and she offered her cheek to Benton. He blushed, but leaned down and gravely pressed his lips to the brightly rouged surface. "You are a fine lady, Mama Ivy."

"LADY?!" She howled. "Child, who been spreading those nasty rumors about me?"

******************************************************
Out in the parking lot, Jim said, "Okay, here's what I suggest. Blair and Benny, you two can take the first shift. I'll take Stan back to the apartment. Tomorrow morning, we'll relieve you two, and you can get some rest. If you feel up to it, you can spend some time during the day looking for that supposed shyster who slipped Solly the Combat cocktail."

"Sounds like a winning plan to me," Stan agreed.

Neither Blair nor Fraser had any objections, so it was decided. They drove back to the hospital, and found that Solly had been transferred to a private room. He wasn't doing well, but he wasn't doing any worse, either. They relieved the hospital security guard, after ascertaining that no one had tried to come in, or called for information about the prisoner.

"But they will be wanting to know something soon. Mr. Bernie is not, to all accounts, a patient man."

"No shit. Rumor has it that a guy who keyed his Mercedes lost a testicle over it. Rumor also has that he was forced to eat said nut, raw. With ketchup. Bernie is a sick bastard."

Blair looked green. "I really didn't need to hear that."

Benny frowned in concern. "Do not be distressed, Blair. I am almost positive that Ray is only joking with you." He frowned. "At least about the ketchup part. I believe that mustard would be a much more likely condiment..."

"Excuse me."

Blair went in the bathroom. A moment later they heard retching sounds. Fraser's face puckered. "Oh dear."

"Nice going, guys. That was about fifteen bucks worth of food, literally down the drain. I'm leaving the pie with you two. He'll need something later. IF he recovers." Jim pushed the pie into the Mountie's hands, then jerked his head toward the door. "C'mon, Vecchio. Tell Blair good night for me, Benny."

"I most assuredly will."

"Christ, Benny, just say yes! G'night, ya big maple leaf." Stanley followed Jim down the corridor, walking rapidly to catch up with his longer strides.

Neither of the men spoke as they exited the building and went to the truck. They slid in on opposite sides, and Jim put his key in the ignition, then paused. He looked over to Stanley. "You do know that when we get to the apartment, you aren't getting any sleep."

Stanley regarded him with half closed eyes. "If I do, I want to know what the fuck I've been doing wrong."

"I'm going to fuck you raw," Jim warned.

Stanley's grin was bright, and as feral as any Jim ever gave himself. "Bring it on, Big Guy." Jim fired up the engine. For the first time in years, he burned rubber outside a police chase.

As he drove, Stanley slid closer, and put his hand in Jim's lap. He squeezed the bulge pressing against the fly. "Still got some left over from Skeet's, huh? You manage to smuggle a bone out in your pants, Ellison?"

"I'll show you a bone."

"Promises, promises." Stanley cooed.

"You're a fucking prick tease, you know that?"

"Nah, I'm not." He leaned over and licked Jim's ear, then whispered. "Teases don't intend to give it up. I do." He squeezed again.

"Fuck." Jim muttered.

"Oh, yeah."

Stan kept rubbing and squeezing, nibbling at Jim's neck and ear. It became increasingly difficult for Jim to pay attention to the traffic, and he hoped desperately that he could get home before he ran then into a pole. By the time he parked in front of the building, he was almost crazy with lust. It was all he could do to keep from tossing the little blonde over the hood of the truck and mounting him out on the street.

Instead he made it around to the passenger side while Stanley was still opening his door. Grabbing him by the front of the garish shirt, he hauled him out onto the sidewalk, then kicked the door shut and dragged him up the steps. As they stumbled down the hall, Stanley was saying, "One thing, Ellison. Don't rip the clothes." Jim let go with one hand to unlock the door, opening it. "I mean, I don't have any spare with me, and Benny..." Jim shoved him into the apartment, then followed, locking the door. "Benny would want to know what happened. The poor angel cake doesn't know I'm gay, and I don't want to have to..." Jim jerked Stanley up flush against his body, leaned down, and kissed him, hard and long. When he pulled back, Stan continued, "...explain things." He reached up, grabbed the back of Jim's head, and pulled him down into another kiss, this time opening his mouth.

Jim promptly slid his tongue in and let it roam, exploring the different textures of teeth, tongue, gums and pallet. Stanley grunted deep in his throat and tightened his grip on Jim's hair, answering each movement with enthusiasm.

Stanley wondered how Jim got so good at undoing buttons without actually looking. He had no idea of how much practice Ellison had gotten by unwrapping Blair from his usual layers of flannel during the winter. In any case, his shirt hit the floor. Still hanging on to his soon-to-be lover, Stanley managed to kick his shoes off. There was a clatter indicating that one of them had knocked something over, but neither of the men were inclined to investigate.

Stanley was involved in trying to peel Jim's shirt up over his broad chest without losing oral contact. It caught under Jim's arms, and he swore violently into Ellison's mouth, which earned an eruption of laughter. "Funny, huh?" He nipped Jim sharply on the shoulder.

Jim gasped. His tone was sharp, but not angry. "Slut!"

Stanley licked the sore spot. "Proud of it. Where's this gonna happen, Ellison? I don't wanna get rug burns on my knees."

Jim released him, spun him around, and smacked him on the butt. "Upstairs. Move your sweet ass. I'll get the supplies." He watched with a chuckle as the smaller man raced to the stairs and bounded up them. A moment later, his pants came sailing over the rail, followed in short order by a tiny pair of bright red briefs. "Aw, damn. I would have liked to take those off you."

His voice floated down. "Then bring `em up with you and I'll put `em back on. But I thought you were in a hurry."

Jim went into the bathroom and quickly located a tube of lubricant and a box of condoms, then hurried up the stairs. As he came to the top, he stopped, staring. Stanley had stripped the top sheet down to the foot, piled the pillows, and was lounging against them, totally naked except for his socks. Somehow that made him seem MORE than nude. He gave Jim a sultry look, delicately pinched the toe of one sock, and sl-o-o-o-ly pulled it off, then repeated the action.

Jim found himself licking his lips. "Stan, I hope your heart is strong. Other wise you might not survive this."

Stan stretched languidly. Jim watched the play of wiry muscles beneath smooth skin. "Fuck me to death, and it'll take the mortician a week to get the smile off my face. Now come on."

Jim dumped the supplies on the night stand, stripping out of the rest of his clothes. Blair would have been astonished at the abandon with which his roommate tossed them aside. Then, with a growl, he pounced.

But as fast as he was, Stanley was faster. *Damn, he can whip that little body around quick.* Stan rose up and caught him as he lunged, twisting like a snake, and Jim found himself underneath a very warm, very active body.

"Ya know, Ellison, I had kinda the same reaction to you that I did to Benny. The second I saw you, I wanted to just climb all over you."

"Feeling's mutual." Jim wrapped his arms around Stanley and rolled them both over. "Now shut up."

""kay." Stanley hooked his ankles over the back of Jim's legs and began to undulate his hips. His erection slid against Jim's with a delicious friction.

The Sentinel grunted his approval and began the very pleasant task of exploring the wiggling body with mouth and hands. He loved Blair, God knew he loved him. He never wanted to be without the man who was his Guide, his friend, his partner, and basically the center of his universe. But there was always something intoxicating about the first time with a new lover. Thank heaven Blair knew that, too, and understood. As for Jim...Well, he had a hard time wishing anyone a life without a little Blair in it, unless they were an ass hole.

The two men slid and writhed together, Stanley clutching at Jim's shoulders, because he couldn't QUITE reach all the way around his back. Finally the Chicago cop panted, "Look, I know you don't want small talk, but I need you to fuck me. NOW!"

Jim tried to move, but Stan's legs were surprisingly strong. "Then let me up so I can get you ready." Stan unhooked his legs, and Jim pulled back far enough to be able to reach the night stand. As he took the tube of lubricant, he felt the mattress shift under Stanley's weight. When he looked back, Stan was on his hands and knees, legs braced wide. The sight of the presentation sent a throb of pure, primal lust through Jim, gathering in his crotch. He hadn't thought he could get any harder.

Jim moved into the space behind Stanley, popping the top off the tube, and spread the firm, pale cheeks apart, drawing a thick squiggle of gel down the exposed crease. Stanley hissed a little at the cold, and Jim saw his tiny pink pucker flex in reaction. Jim started to rub it in, warming the stuff with his hand and Stanley's own body heat. Then he slowly pushed the first finger inside, working his way carefully past the tight ring of muscle.

Stanley sighed, dropping his head. A light tremor ran through his body, and Jim felt him squeeze. "Don't tense up on me, buddy."

"Sorry. Been awhile."

"Just relax, and I'll get you good and open." Jim slid in and out, feeling the gradual loosening. It was a little easier to work the second finger in. He stroked slowly, twisting and spreading, massaging the inner passage gently till the flesh began to warm and spread.

Stan's voice was quiet. "Can you do my prostate?"

"I'll try. Hang on." He probed farther, rubbing over the interior, and finally felt the little bump. Stanley made a cooing noise that went straight to Jim's cock. He rubbed again, kneading the tender lump of flesh and nerves till the blonde was shuddering and mewling.

"Oh, damn, Ellison, put your cock in me. I want you to ride me hard. I'm not a fucking virgin, I won't break."

Jim couldn't wait any longer, either. His cock was already slick with his own fluids. The condom slipped on easily, and he anointed it with another generous smear of gel before moving up behind Stanley. He gripped Stanley's hip with one hand, and guided himself till the head of his prick pressed against the slightly spread hole. "You ready?"

"SHIT! Give it to me, Ellison! And you call ME a tease."

Jim jerked his hips, burying half his length in the smaller man's ass. Stanley jerked, crying out as Jim's cock passed over his sensitized prostate. Jim could see his fingers working on the sheet, flexing rapidly like a cat sheathing and unsheathing it's claws. Not giving his lover time to catch his breath, Jim moved forward, sinking in till he was molded flush against Stanley's butt, spreading the smooth cheeks wide.

Jim sighed. "Oh, yeah." He drew back, watching, fascinated as his cock oozed back out of the heated, clinging flesh, then slid all the way back in. Stanley moaned. "That's it, baby. Take it all." He started to move, setting up a steady rhythm of long, gliding strokes.

Stanley closed his eyes, biting his lip, and let the sensations wash over him. Oh, this felt so RIGHT. Sex with Stella had been pleasant enough, but nothing like this. Nothing like the raw passion and power he could get from a man like Jim Ellison. He was SO damn glad Solly the Snitch had chose Cascade to run to.

Jim filled him, again and again. How did other men live without this? Stanley braced his arms and legs, and pushed back into the thrusts firmly. Jim's hands slid off his hips, gliding around under his belly. He smoothed down to Stanley's groin and wrapped Stan's aching cock in his big hands, starting to jerk him off. Stan was disoriented with pleasure for a moment, his movements uncoordinated. Then he caught the rhythm, and began to surge forward into the
squeezing grasp, then impale himself further with a backward shove.

Stan's eager enjoyment was a beautiful thing. Jim couldn't help but be flattered by his responses. He had no doubts about his own prowess, *But he makes me feel like a goddam stud bull!*

Vecchio was moaning. "Almost...almost...oh, geez. Harder, Ellison! Gimme more!"

The last two words were a breathy plea that snapped whatever control Jim had been able to maintain. With a snarl, he started pounding into Stanley with short, hard strokes that would have been punishing to someone not so thoroughly lust inflamed. Their bodies met with wet, smacking noises. He drove the smaller man up higher in the bed with each lunge.

Stanley's trembling arms gave way, dropping his upper body to the mattress and tilting his ass. The new angle brought Jim's cock across his prostate again, and he screamed. Jim felt Stanley's prick pulse in his hands, and his fingers were covered by jet after jet of warm sperm. At the same time the muscles in the blonde man's anal passage clamped on his own engorged cock, squeezing like a fist. A few more hard, ramming thrusts, and Jim shot his load, too. The tidal wave of passion crashed over him and sucked him down into the familiar roaring darkness, and he prayed that he wouldn't zone *Please don't let me zone, it'll scare Stanley, he'll think he killed me...*

He lost track of things for a couple of seconds, but it was just the more normal post coital senselessness that many men experience. When he came back to reality, he was lying full length on top of a collapsed Stanley Vecchio. The little man was still, except for the ragged heave of his breath. Jim quickly rolled off him, being careful to hold the rubber tight around the base of his softening prick. Then he stripped it off and dropped it in the wastebasket. He cleaned himself with some tissues, then grabbed another handful of them and nudged Stanley's shoulder. "Roll over, babe. Let me clean you up."

Stanley muttered something, then rolled over, arms and legs moving bonelessly. He stared up at the ceiling, mouth a little slack, eyes a little glazed, as Jim gently wiped him clean. After discarding the tissues, Jim crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up over both of them. Stanley immediately snuggled next to him. Actually, he half draped himself over Jim's body. "Wet spot on the other side," he explained sleepily.

He didn't say thank you, which was fine by Jim. Instead he just gave him a soft, thoughtful kiss, sighed, tucked his head down on Jim's broad shoulder, and passed out. Jim watched him sleep for a few minutes. In slumber, the sharp, savvy lines of his face were smoothed, and he looked quite young, rather like Blair. Jim smiled. *They look S-O-O innocent when they're asleep.* He drifted off to sleep, unaware that Blair would have been able to make the same comment about one particular Sentinel.

Part Six

Constable Benton Fraser eyed the door to the men's room with some trepidation. The retching sounds coming from inside had been...impressive. They had stopped now, but Detective Sandburg had still not reappeared, and he was beginning to get worried about the young man.

Benton knew that some people, despite how little sense it made, were embarrassed when they evacuated the contents of their stomach. It was silly, really. People didn't do it on PURPOSE. He paused in thought. Perhaps except for that one drunk with a bad attitude. He HAD seemed to AIM as Stanley...

Fraser eased the door open and peeked inside. Sandburg was bent over one of the sinks, rinsing his mouth out. "Blair? Are you alright?"

Blair's voice was strained. "Not really, Benny. Up chucking your guts is not alright." He stared, and said in a choked tone. "Is that the pie?"

"Yes. Jim thought that you..."

Blair dashed for one of the stalls again. The retches this time were a little less frantic. In a moment, the toilet flushed, and he emerged, a little shakily.

"Oh, dear." Benton went to him. "Was it only Ray's distasteful joke, or is there a physical problem? Perhaps I should call a physician?"

"No, no. It was just...that story gave me a turn, and the thought of more food...." He shuddered. Benton his the pie under his hat. Blair splashed his face. "Hand me a paper towel, wouldya, buddy?"

Fraser pulled a couple of paper towels out of the dispenser and extended them toward Blair. As the Cascade detective reached for them, Benny suddenly noticed that there were droplets of water caught on his eyelashes, like crystal beads. *Such thick eyelashes. They look very dark when he lowers them against his skin.*

"Benny? You gonna let me have those?"

With a start, Fraser realized that Blair had hold of the paper towels, had for several seconds. He released them quickly, and Blair blotted his face.

"Ya know, that stuff tasted a lot better the first time around. Benny, I wish you wouldn't stare at me like that."

"Oh." Benton flushed. *Was I staring? I guess I was, if he noticed it.*

"I mean, I know I'm no walk in the park, here, but have a little pity on a guy."

"What? You look fine, Blair."

Blair peered into the mirror. "Bull shit, but bless you for tryin', man. I'm green around the gills."

"Perhaps a touch pale. But then, you have a naturally fair complexion."

"Yeah. I gotta be careful, or I burn like nobody's business." He pulled out a comb and began to run it through his hair. "Guess it's from that little bit of red in the hair."

Fraser watched with increasing fascination as he stroked the comb through the loose, red-brown curls that fell past his shoulders. He'd been struck by that hair the first time he saw Blair. There was something almost...alive about it. Vital, like the anthropologist himself. *And it looks very soft. I do believe that it would wind all the way around my hand, possibly even twice.*

"Okay, damage repaired." Blair stuck the comb back in his pocket. "Have Jim and Stanley already left?"

"Yes, just after you, er, exited."

"Thought so. I knew Jim would be eager to get home. Let's go get settled in."

Back at Solly's room, they dismissed the security guard, and went inside. It was actually a semi private room, (all they'd had available at the time), but the other bed was empty, and would stay empty. If they needed it bad enough, it could be wheeled out.

A rather pretty nurse was just unfastening a blood pressure cuff from Solly's arm, the one that didn't have the IV in it. She looked at Blair, and pointed to where Solly's right arm was cuffed to the side rail. "The other guy did that. Are you going to leave him that way?"

"Certainly not." Blair went to the bed, pulling his own set of cuffs off his belt, and cuffed Solly's left arm in the same manner. He gave the nurse a charming smile. "Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling back. "You two going to be here all night?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. We'll be back in to check his vitals every hour. There are extra blankets and pillows in the cabinet, if you need them." She glanced between the two men. Wow. Little and cute and big and built. *Forget the blankets, fellas. If either of you...hell, if BOTH of you need a way to keep warm, just come and get me.* "I'm just down the hall at the nurses' station if his condition changes...or you need anything." She put an extra sashay in her walking, wishing for once that they still wore those little white uniforms instead of these pea green scrubs.

Benton deposited his hat and the pie on the shelf by the cabinet. "Blair, I believe she was flirting with you."

"She was flirting with YOU, Benny."

The Mountie blushed. "Oh, surely not."

"Why not?"

"Well, Stanley calls me a moose. I am sure he means it in an affectionate way, but it is not very flattering."

"`Is not.' Benny, say `it's'."

Fraser frowned. "Why should I do that?"

"I just want to hear you use a contraction. Say `shouldn't'."

"Blair, there is no reason for me..."

"`There's'."

"No."

Blair sighed. "I'll wear you down on this."

"I do not think so." Blair's eyes sparkled. *My, they ARE very blue. Almost the same shade as...as Stanley's eyes.*

"Don't be so sure. I LOVE a challenge." *And this is going to be a challenge. You, my dear Benton, seem totally oblivious. And the nurse will be back every hour. I guess that means no nookie till I can get us back to the apartment. I'll just have to try to soften you up for the next few hours. Damn, I hope Jim and Stanley don't break the bed.*

There was only one straight backed chair in the room, and Blair was waiting for Benton to suggest that he take it. Maybe he should go look for another chair? Then Benton said, "Blair, why not lie down?"

*OH, YES!*

"I am sure you are quite tired. There is no reason why you cannot sleep a bit."

*crap.*

Fraser watched the smaller man hopefully. He wanted to see what Blair would look like asleep, stretched out, with his hair spread on a pillow. *Very fetching, I am sure.* Benton gave himself a mental shake. Fetching? That was not a term to use for a man. But...it seemed appropriate with Blair. He WAS very...appealing. So energetic. Like Stanley.

"Maybe later." Blair perched on the edge of the mattress. "I'll just sit for awhile. So, Benny, do the Mounties have the usual cop problems?"

"What sort of problems?" Fraser sat, ramrod straight, in the hard chair. Somehow he looked totally comfortable.

"Oh, girl problems? You know, your girl going to get aggravated at you for being away longer than you expected, even if it IS your job, and not your fault?"

"The job DOES involve a great deal of unscheduled time, but as I am not involved in a relationship, it is not a problem."

"What, Benny, you don't have a girl? A big, handsome guy like you?"

Fraser flushed. *He thinks I am handsome. Of course, he may just be being kind.* "No, Blair. Actually, I never really have had anyone who could be called a girlfriend. When I was younger, we traveled a great deal around the territories. We were never in one place long enough for me to form attachments. Then I entered the force, and I...have not had time."

"I would have thought that the women would be tearing the red serge right off you." *I know I'D like to.*

"Detective Vecchio's sister Francesca has shown a marked interest in me. She is a nice girl but..." He hesitated.

"She doesn't race your motor?"

"You and Ray both express yourselves in flamboyant terms, but no. She does not rev my engine."

"So, what do you do for a social life?"

Benton thought. "I often meet nice people when I am strolling with Diefenbacher. Constable Turnbull and I play cards a good deal. And there is Ray, of course."

"Good friends with Ray?"

"Yes, very good friends." Fraser thought about what Ray...well, Stanley, meant to him. He had been hurt when the real Vecchio had disappeared into the undercover assignment with nary a word, and had resented the man who replaced him. But `Ray the K' *Stanley Kowalski* had proved to be a true friend. He had accepted Fraser without hesitation, and had been there for him countless times, both with the physical dangers of the job, and the more subtle dangers of his emotional turmoils. "Friendship really is not a strong enough word to express how I feel."

Blair nodded in understanding. "Like Jim and me. I don't know what I'd do without the big lug. Well, maybe not EXACTLY like Jim and me."

"I see a number of striking similarities between Ray and I, and you and your partner."

"Yeah, Benny, but Jim and I are REAL close."

"So are Ray and I."

"We've been sharing an apartment for over four years."

"It is marvelous that you can get along so well."

"Benny, the apartment has two bedrooms, but for all but the first six months, only one of them has been used." Fraser blinked at Blair. Blair could swear that he actually heard a switch click in Fraser's mind as his eyes widened. "Oh dear?"

Fraser swallowed. "Yes. Oh dear would seem to cover it. You and Jim are...uh..."

"Lovers."

"Ah."

"It's a committed relationship. We're going to stay together. But there's a little leeway allowed. Otherwise I wouldn't have let him take your partner home."

Another switch flipped. The eyes got wider. "Ray?" Fraser swallowed. "But Ray is not...I mean...He never told me he was...Why do you believe he is..."

"Gay. He was feeling Jim up under the table with his foot. You didn't notice?"

"I thought he was just restless."

"He was restless, alright. But Jim can drain off some of that nervous energy for him."

"That does not bother you, Blair? You are not hurt?"

"Nah, I can understand. Stanley's cute as hell, even if he isn't exactly my type. Jim will have a good time with him, but when you two go back to Chicago, Jim still be here with me. It would be kind of cruel of me to deny the world Jim, wouldn't it? And it works both ways. If I run into someone drooly, I can have a little fun without Jimmy getting jealous."

"That is a most enlightened attitude."

"Thank you. And may I say that YOU are enlightened for thinking that it is enlightened. You know, I'm not sleepy, but I am tired. Maybe I will lie down for just a little."

Blair kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed. Lying on his side facing Fraser, he curved his upper leg slightly, resting the knee on the mattress, and let his hair drift half across his face. Jim loved this. Said it made him look like a classic Renaissance painting. *Of course the effect is better when I'm nude.*

Benton stared. Blair had folded his arms, tucking them up under his chin, and his shirt had pulled up a little. Benny could see a small slice of firm belly, with the shallow dip of the navel perfectly centered, and a thread of dark hair trickling down to disappear under the waistband of Blair's pants. Suddenly the room seemed very, very warm.

*Oh dear.*

Part Seven

"Blair? May I ask you a personal question?"

Blair studied him. "Are you curious, Fraser?"

Fraser considered for a moment. "Yes, I am."

Blair smiled. "Goooood. I LIKE curious people. Tell me, do you drink a lot of orange juice?"

"As a matter of fact, I consume a good deal of orange juice. It is an excellent source of vitamin C."

"And energy. Go ahead, ask away."

"How long have you been gay?"

Blair scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hard to say, Frase. It's not like I woke up one day thinking I'd like to try an alternate lifestyle, and checked my calendar. Since I was...oh, twelve or so."

"So young?"

He shrugged. "I was precocious about everything. I didn't actually DO anything for a few years, but I was the only boy I knew who watched `The Dukes of Hazzard' because of Bo Duke and NOT Daisy Duke or the car."

Fraser cleared his throat. "I understand that it is not uncommon for most men to have some homosexual or homoerotic experience during their youth, but that this does not necessarily mean that they are gay."

"That's true. However the first time another guy put his hand down my pants, I had NO doubt in my mind." There was silence for a moment. Finally Blair said, "I answered YOUR personal question. Now, will YOU answer one for ME?"

"That would seem only fair."

"Have you ever had a homosexual experience?" *Oh, GOD, that man looks delicious when he blushes!*

"Uh...no."

"There was a little hesitation there, Fraser. Are you sure? I mean," he gestured, "Running around in that outfit, I hardly see how you could have avoided it. That's one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

"Oh, really...I...thank you. No. Except...Well, perhaps...But I thought that tourist patted me on the bottom in thanks for my giving him directions."

"One way to tell, Frase. Was his hand flat, or cupped?"

Fraser thought. "Cupped."

"That was copping a feel, not saying thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me. I guess that qualifies. Barely. How much hetero experience have you had?"

"Umm...."

"Benny?"

"A gentleman doesn't tell."

Blair grinned slowly. "Fraser? Are you still a virgin?"

There was a very long pause. "Yes."

Blair blinked. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally he said, "Geez, man. I was kidding. But you're SERIOUS. You really ARE still cherry?"

"I told you, I never had a girlfriend."

"Well, yeah, but I thought you meant like, you never went steady, or got pinned, or whatever it is you do in Canada. I mean, you're just such a gorgeous, sexy guy, I can't understand how you've managed to escape all these years. Especially around your partner."

Benton began running his fingers over the brim of his hat. His voice was very quiet. "Ray...Stanley is not interested in me...that way. He is a good friend."

"How do you know he isn't interested THAT way? I think you'd be just his type: big, buff, and sweet. Like Jim."

The door opened, and the nurse who had been there earlier came in. "I see you're making yourself at home. How's the patient?"

"Haven't heard a peep out of him," Blair told her.

She used an electronic thermometer to check his temperature in his ear. "Well, the fever is down a bit." She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm and pumped it up, putting her stethoscope to the crook of his elbow.

"Whadafuckyadoin?" The voice sounded clotted.

The nurse made a note on his chart, and held his wrist, looking at her watch. "Just getting your vitals, Mr. Tyson."

"Hey, cutie, howsabouta quick blow job?"

She dropped his wrist and made more notes. "Patient seems more alert and cheerful." She put the chart away, "I wouldn't suck you through a straw, mister. Though from what the ER nurse who got you in that gown tells me, it WOULD be possible." Blair cracked up as she left, and even Fraser covered a smile. Solly muttered discontentedly for a moment, but was soon snoring gently.

Blair stretched, showing a few more inches of tummy. Benton became very interested in adjusting his hat band. "So Frase, to get back to what we were talking about..."

"I would really rather not."

"Tough. I think the question is, do YOU like STANLEY `that way'."

"I...he...I never...but...uh...he..."

"That's six attempts without one coherent thought. I believe you're in love."

Fraser sighed. "Oh dear."

"You like that expression, don't you?"

"It covers a multitude of emotions. Ray is a very attractive man."

"Yes, he is."

"But conventional wisdom says that partners should never become romantically involved with each other."

"Ask me what Jim and I think about that. On second thought, don't ask me. Vulgar language seems to upset you. Speaking of which...Fraser, say `shouldn't."

"No. I do not understand..."

"Don't. Say `don't."

"No. I do not understand this obsession you seem to have with coercing me into using contractions."

"I don't know, either. Do you suppose there's an official kink name for it?"

"I would not be surprised."

"`Wouldn't.'"

"No."

Blair cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. "You're enjoying this, teasing me."

"Blair, I am not the one who is..."

"`I'm' and `who's'."

"No." They both smiled.

**************

"Ellison, you sure that your partner won't mind me borrowing his threads?" Stanley called from the loft.

Jim lifted the last slice of bacon out onto a paper towel, and broke the first egg into the sizzling grease. "He may want first dibs on skinning you out of them later, but no, he won't mind. Hurry up, it's almost done."

Jim heard Stanley thumping down the stairs, then crossing the living room to the kitchen. Like he'd promised, Stan was moving just a tiny bit more stiffly today. Jim grinned. "Sunnyside up or over easy?"

Stanley came up behind him and slipped his arms around Jim's waist, giving him a squeeze. "Sunnyside. Gotta have yolk to dip the toast in."

"I just can't explain that to Blair. He keeps making gagging noises. Make the toast, would you?"

Stanley opened the bread box and took out the loaf. "Oh, good. White. I was afraid there for a minute it would be some sort of seven grain sprouted rye, groats, and oatmeal stuff."

"Blair keeps that in the refrigerator. He keeps trying to slip it to me, toasted."

Stanley shook his head. "You must love him."

"I do."

There was such quiet conviction in his voice that Stanley looked up from dropping the bread into the toaster. Jim was surprised to see a wistful expression ghost across his face. Tough, cocky, randy Stanley Vecchio, wistful? "That must be real nice, Jim." He pushed the plunger down on the toaster.

Jim scraped hot fat over the eggs, filming the yolk. "Stanley, have you ever made a move on Fraser?"

Stanley snorted, head deep in the refrigerator as he rooted through the shelves. "Benny? You think I WANT to get my ass kicked? I'd probably land back up around where he came from. Ooh, real butter!"

"Sandburg says that we might as well, if we're going to get the fat anyway. Has he given you any indication that he's intolerant? Any verbal gay bashing? I find it hard to imagine."

"You gotta be kidding." Stanley took out a carton of milk and began opening cabinets. "Benny makes Mother Theresa look hard ass when it comes to accepting people. Tell me where the glasses are, or I drink out of the carton and give you and Sandburg cooties."

"To the right of the sink. So, is he a ladies' man? You can't always go by that. Blair dated a new girl every week before we, uh, discovered each other."

Stanley poured two glasses of milk and put away the carton. "Nah. I don't think Frase has been on a date since I've known him. Which drawer is the silver in?"

"Over there. So you don't know for sure."

Vecchio laid out two place settings. "Geez, Ellison, LOOK at him."

"Yeah." He turned off the stove and put the plates on the table. Planting his hands on his hips, he said, "So, look at me."

Stanley did, raking Jim's lean form with appreciation. This was one of the most masculine men he'd ever run into, and last night he had rocked Stanley's world without hesitation. "Point taken." He got the toast, tossing a slice on each plate, and they sat down to eat.

Both of them concentrated on the food. They'd worked up respectable appetites with their nocturnal exercise. Finally Stanley was wiping up the last few drops of molten egg yolk with a bite of toast. "Jim? You...uh...you really think there's a chance that Frase might be, shall we say, not entirely averse to the idea?"

"Damn, Stan, you're a goner. You're picking up his speech patterns. Yeah, I think he would be not only not averse, but probably pretty damn enthusiastic. You never know till you try."

Stanley chewed thoughtfully, then shook his head. "Can't risk it. I like him too much to risk what I already have with him. He's comfortable with me, now. Even if it didn't freak him out, and I'm by no means sure that it wouldn't, it would always be between us."

"Look, Stan, you don't have to walk up to him at the hospital and give him a soul kiss. Just think about it. If the time comes, be ready."

Stan sighed. "Yeah, I suppose Hell COULD freeze over. After all, I've seen winter in Chicago..."

Part Eight

As they stepped out of the elevator, Stanley said, "I wonder how Benny and Blair got on last night? They seemed to be hitting it off pretty good, but that's a long time to be stuck in a room with one person."

Jim opened the door to Solly's room and glanced in. Working hard to keep a straight face, he said, "Oh, I think they did alright." Stanley peeked around him.

Blair was sitting propped against the headboard of the spare bed. Fraser was stretched out beside him, on his side, his head resting on Blair's thighs, snoring softly. Blair was gently stroking his brown hair. When he saw the two other men, he held a finger to his lips in a shushing motion.

They came in, each going to opposite sides of the bed. Jim was watching his Guide affectionately. Stan stared at his sleeping partner, bemused. Asleep, Benny looked positively angelic. "Well, fuck me," Stan said softly. Jim started to speak, and Stan said, "Say it and I'll have to hurt you, Ellison." Jim subsided, but he was smirking just as much as Stanley was.

Blair spoke quietly, "If I was to ask you two if you had a pleasant evening, how stupid a question would that be?"

"Up there on a par with do we consider the Pope to be a religious man."

"Thought so. Did you two get ANY rest?"

"Some. You and Benny look...uh...comfortable." Observed Jim.

"Not that comfortable, not yet. But we had a nurse in and out of here all night. Plus every now and then Solly would get up enough energy to be offensive. NOT a very seductive environment." He looked at Jim severely. "What am I going to find when I get home?"

"Clean kitchen and bathroom, and fresh sheets."

"Bed still intact?"

"I'd have warned you, otherwise."

Blair looked at Stanley apologetically. "We had to replace three beds before we finally found one that would hold up."

Stanley grinned, rubbing a hand through his hair, rearranging the spikes. "Yeah, I coulda guessed." He gently shook his partner's shoulder. "Wakey, wakey, Constable."

Fraser stretched, yawning, eyes still closed, murmuring, "Five more minutes." He embraced Blair's leg, hugging it like a child embracing a stuffed animal. Blair grinned smugly.

A little disgruntled, Stanley poked Ben in the side. "Up, you big husky!"

Fraser blinked, then sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, is it morning already? Good morning Ray, Jim." He looked at Blair shyly. "Blair. How long was I asleep?"

"Not too very long. Say `you'll'."

"No."

"Damn. Thought maybe he'd be groggy enough to slip. C'mon, let's go. I want a shower before I go to bed."

"I also." They scrambled off the bed. "Ray, Blair and I will return this evening, and I will call you later for a report on Solly. He seems to be doing well. I believe he is going to survive the attempt."

"Yeah, he's a tough little bastard. I saw his doctor on the way up. If things go okay, they'll jerk his appendix this afternoon."

Jim and Blair shared a tender kiss before they left, and the two Chicago law officers watched them, both with not a little envy. Stanley looked away from the entwined pair to find Benton watching him. For once, dammit, that open-as-the-Northern-Territories had a blank expression. There was no way to tell what he was thinking.

Jim handed the keys to the truck to Blair. "Ding it and I put the exact same size dent in your head."

"I love it when you're butch." He pinched Jim's ass as he left.

Stanley looked at the shelf by the cabinet. "Hey, they left us half the pie. Well, that takes care of snacks."

"We'll have a pizza sent in for lunch. I'm not eating hospital food unless I've taken a bullet."

"Why would you eat it THEN? That's when you need something to give you the will to live."

*************************************************

"Good God, Ben. When you went back for your fourth plate at the breakfast buffet, I thought the shift manager was going to bite through his bottom lip."

"Well, Blair, if they do not intend for every customer to eat his fill, they should not advertise `all you can eat.' I took them at their word."

"That you did. And I thought STANLEY could pack it away. But then, you have more space to fill up." Inside the apartment, Blair tossed the keys in the basket.

Fraser looked around appreciatively. "This is a very nice place, Blair."

"Yeah, well, I know I was ragging on Jim about how it looked, but that was just because we're having company. HE'S the neatnik. He's trying to get me trained. If it was up to me, we'd end up shoveling paths. I'm not dirty, just disorganized. I always mean to straighten up, but then I get interested in something, and..." He shrugged. "Bathroom's right over there. You can have the shower first."

Fraser laid his hat carefully on the hall table. "I believe I would prefer to shower after."

Blair cocked his head inquiringly. "After what?"

Fraser took a deep breath, stepped forward, put his hands on either side of Blair's face, and kissed him square on the mouth.

To say the Guide was startled would be a massive understatement, but Blair was nothing if not a quick study. Before Fraser pulled back, he licked the Mountie's lips. Fraser looked surprised, and Blair grinned, breathing, "Thank God. I was afraid I was going to have to rape you, Ben."

"By legal definition, rape only occurs if the victim is unwilling, Blair." He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, lifting him clean off the floor, and carried him over to the couch. Sitting down, he deposited Blair on his lap.

Blair laughed, squirming. "All this red, I feel like I'm with Santa Claus."

"Have you been a good boy this year?"

Blair threw his arms around Fraser's neck. "Noooo, I've been naughty as hell. Lemme show you." He kissed Ben, but after a couple of seconds, pulled away. "Frase? It's nicer if you open your mouth a little."

"Oh. Of course."

This time Fraser's lips were parted when Blair's settled over them. Blair happily slid his tongue into the Canadian's mouth and began a leisurely oral exploration. Ben moaned into his mouth, and his hands ran up Blair's back, under his shirt, stroking over the firm muscles.

Soon Fraser was getting a little more adventurous. His tongue met Blair's, trading licks till they both started giggling, and the kiss broke apart. The next time Blair kissed him, Fraser drew his tongue into his mouth and sucked on it. *Damn, he's a fast learner!*

Blair lifted his arms, and Fraser skinned his sweatshirt over his head. Then he bent and rubbed his face in the crisp curls that decorated Blair's chest, sighing. "I have wanted to do that for some time."

"Say `I've.'"

"No." Instead Benton took Blair's nipple ring between his teeth and tugged gently, wringing a gasp from the anthropologist. "Was that too harsh, Blair?"

"Noooo, that was looovely."

"Good." He nibbled on the other nipple. Blair caught hold of his head, holding him close and arching to his mouth.

Fraser blindly popped the snap on Blair's jeans, tugged the zipper down, and pushed his hand into the gap. He went still, then whispered against Blair's chest, "Blair, you are not wearing
underpants."

"It's called `going commando', Frase. Say `aren't'."

"No." His hand closed around Blair's cock, squeezing lightly. "And you are already hard."

"`You're.'"

"No." Benton wrapped one arm around Blair, lifted him, and slid his pants down to his knees with his free hand.

"Shit, Ben! Even Jim usually has to put me down to get me undressed." He bit Fraser's earlobe, then moved down to nip his throat. His hands moved down between them, and he worked at Fraser's buckle.

When Fraser reached for the brass buttons on his tunic, Blair stopped him. "No, don't. The first time I want to do you just like this, in full uniform."

"The first time, eh?" Benton eyed him hotly, then licked his lips. "May we do it without the hat?"

Blair laughed. "Yeah, I'd just knock it off, anyway. Don't move, I'll be right back. I have to get us some supplies." He hopped up and trotted naked to the bathroom, re-emerging in a second. "They must've left them upstairs." Fraser watched, fascinated as he bounded up the stairs, then back down in a moment. He was almost hypnotized by the proud sway of Blair's rigid cock.

"Here we go." Blair dumped a tube of lubricant, an unwrapped condom, and a towel on the sofa beside Fraser. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, eyeing the Mountie mischievously. "Now, where were we?"

Fraser unzipped his trousers. "I believe we were here."

"Oh, yeah. Now I remember. Say `it's'."

"No." Ben reached up and buried his hand in Blair's hair, tugging gently. Blair sank gracefully to the floor before him, pushed Fraser's knees apart, bent forward, and took his cock in his mouth. Fraser groaned, head dropping back. "Yes."

Fraser watched the dark, curly head bobbing in his lap, feeling the almost unbelievably exquisite pleasure. Blair was evoking feelings with his mouth that Benton had scarcely been aware were possible. He was afraid that he would never again be able to hear a suspect taunt him with `Blow me' without some sort of reaction.

He was disappointed when Blair stopped. But then the young man stood up and kissed him. He felt something pressed into his hand, and looked down to find that it was a half empty tube of Astroglide. Blair popped the top off it, turned around and bent down, spreading his legs and grabbing his knees. He peeked back at Fraser, and said huskily, "I got you ready. Now you get ME ready."

"I'm not sure how, Blair. I...I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't worry, I won't be shy about telling you what to do. Start off by getting your fingers coated real good." Fraser squeezed the clear gel onto the fingers of his right hand, coating them generously. "Okay, now..." Blair reached back and spread his own cheeks. Benton inhaled sharply. "Just kind of stroke up and down the crease, Ben. Press a little. When you feel the muscle at my hole relax a little, kind of ease one finger in, really slow."

Fraser obeyed. He massaged the deep valley gently, working patiently around Blair's puckered opening till he felt the tight muscles relax a little. Then he carefully, slowly, sank one thick finger into Blair's ass. "Is it alright, Blair?"

"Perfect. Didn't hurt at all."

"Should I move it?"

"That would be nice. Finger fuck me, Ben. When you think I'm ready, give me another."

Blair grunted softly with pleasure as Benton worked the digit in and out. In a moment, a second one joined the first. He groaned lightly, and Fraser said anxiously, "Blair?"

"It's alright, Frase. Better than alright. It's just that your hands are bigger than Jim's. I'm only going to need those two, I think. But if you'd kind of wiggle them around..."

"Your prostate should be right around..." His fingers passed over a firm knob, and Blair jerked, crying out. "Here. Was that good?"

"Jesus, Ben!"

"Ah." He rubbed again. Blair's knees went weak. He would have dropped, but Fraser caught him around the waist with his free hand. Then he rubbed again, and Blair wailed, twisting.

"Oh, shit, Benny! Fuck me!"

"Yes, Blair." Fraser removed his hand from Blair's ass. He fumbled for the condom. Instinct and luck took over, and he managed to get it on without tearing it. Then he put both hands on Blair's waist and turned him.

Blair eagerly knelt on the couch, straddling the Mountie, who slid down a little. Blair reached down and took hold of Fraser's cock. Grabbing the lubricant, he quickly smeared more on Fraser's straining, latex clad shaft. He lowered himself till he felt the hot, slick knob bump his anus. "Are you ready for this, Frase?"

"I have been ready for this for a long time."

"Say `I've.'"

"No."

Blair gritted his teeth and dropped. He sank onto Fraser's cock, taking it all in one plunge. Fraser stiffened, and screamed. Blair didn't give him a moment to collect himself. He started posting, rising and falling slowly. "Don't move, Benny. Just sit and enjoy."

He grabbed Fraser's shoulders and used them for leverage, rising and falling steadily. "Damn, you're big, Frase." he panted. "Big as Jim. Um, you feel so good inside me."

"This...this is...Blair," He leaned forward and fastened his mouth on the side of the younger man's throat, biting and sucking.

"Yeah, Fraser," he groaned. "Mark me. When you're back in Chicago," he whispered, "I'll look at it, and remember the feel of your cock, moving inside me, and I'll touch myself..." Blair began to speed up.

Unable to stand it any more, Fraser grabbed his hips and held him firmly, beginning to buck upward. Blair surrendered control. He grabbed his own weeping dick and began to jerk off as his lover slid him up and down. It was almost as if Fraser were using his body to masturbate, and it was sexy as hell.

Fraser thrust harder and harder, jerking him down to meet each upward lunge, filling Blair to capacity each time. His movements were becoming more erratic, less rhythmic, and Blair knew he was getting close. He grabbed the towel quickly and spread it over Fraser's belly and up his chest.

"Just a little more, Frase. Hold...on...just...a little...more!"

"I...I can't!"

"FRASER, YOU USED A CONTRACTION!"

"OH DEAR!"

Blair shot his load at the exact moment he felt the Mountie's cock begin to pulse inside him. Blair's hot seed jetted onto the towel, saving Fraser embarrassing moments later at the dry cleaners. Fraser howled like Diefenbaker under a full moon in spring, and crushed the smaller man to his massive chest.

For several moments, all either of them could do was pant and shiver. Finally Blair said, "Benton? I need to breathe, please."

"Sorry." Fraser's arms dropped.

Blair took hold of them and hooked them back around his waist. "I didn't say I didn't want to be hugged. I just said I need to breathe." He kissed Fraser on the tip of the nose. "That was
splendiferous."

Fraser smiled at him. "Thank you kindly."

Part 9

Benton did, indeed, have his shower `after'. Along with Blair, who proved to be surprisingly slippery, despite, as Benton put it `the traction that all that lovely fur should provide'. Blair didn't have too much trouble persuading Fraser to forgo his long johns in favor of sleeping in the nude, at least this once.

The smaller man snuggled against him, happily soaking up body heat, like a cat. "There's just so goddam MUCH of you THERE, Ben. You're sorta...monumental."

"You are a shameless flatterer, Blair Sandburg. There is no need for it. You have already had your way with me."

"Yeah, Ben, but there are so many OTHER ways I'd like to try."

He was answered by a sleepy chuckle. "Not until I have had several hours of sleep. This is quite a bit to take in at one's first time. Rather like going from zero to sixty in under five seconds. A tad disorienting."

"Say `won't."

"Go to sleep. Pervert." He kissed the top of Blair's head.

**************************************

"I gotta crap."

Stanley frowned. "After seeing the state of your toilet yesterday, Solly, I wouldn't think you had any ammunition left."

"Fuck you. Lemme up."

"Not hardly."

"I ain't goin' nowheres."

"No, you're not. I suspect you're too weak to go more than a couple of steps without falling on your skinny ass. That's why you ain't getting up."

"But I gotta crap! Youse can't jus' make me lay here."

Jim hit the call button. He looked at Stanley. "I know nurses are over worked and under appreciated, but I am NOT handling a bedpan for this guy. I'll send them flowers when this is all over."

"Hey, you don't have to convince ME." Stanley picked up the pie. "I'm taking the pie out into the hall. I'd never be able to touch it if I left it in here while THAT was going on."

"Ah, so you DO have limits."

"Snot."

They exited just as the nurse entered. Stanley leaned against the wall and picked out a bit of pie crust that was gummed on one side with sticky, gelid filling. He munched it, then groan. "I wonder if she exports these things? Maybe I could work out a sort of a pie-of-the-month deal with her."

"Keep your fingers out of that. I KNOW where they've been. Hang on, they probably have forks on that food cart over there." Jim went to the cart, and returned with plastic cutlery. "Here you go. One of modern civilization's greatest inventions: the spork."

"Damn, that's a goofy name." Stanley dug into the pie. "Could be worse, though. They could've named it the `foon'." Jim almost choked on a mouthful of pie.

They heard the toilet flush, and the nurse came out a moment later, stripping off a pair of latex gloves. She eyed them sympathetically. "I turned on the fan and sprayed some Lysol. Give it ten minutes, and you should be able to survive without breathing masks."

Jim sighed. "Bless you."

"The doctor will be along to have a look at him soon. If all's clear, we have him scheduled for surgery at noon."

"How long after that before we can transport him?"

"You mean take him home?"


"Home? Lady, he's not gonna look through a window without bars till AFTER he cuts a deal with the DA."

"It all depends on how he reacts to the surgery. But if he isn't going directly into a quiet, secure environment, they may keep him a couple of days."

"Well, crap." Stanley griped.

As the nurse moved away, Jim cocked an eyebrow at him. "You in that big a hurry to get away from me, blondie?"

"Hell, no. It's not that. It's just...kinda awkward. I'm not real good at waiting. Stake outs have always been a major pain in the butt."

"And?"

"What do you mean, `and'?"

"That's not all that's bothering you. Stake outs are part of the job, and they're not `awkward'. What is it?"

Stanley blew out a breath. After a moment he said, "I like Blair. I really do. But..."


"But he had Benton's head in his lap, and now they're at the apartment together, most likely humping like bunnies." Stanley nodded miserably. "So you're jealous."

Stanley thumped his head back against the wall. "I'm pea green. What the fuck am I gonna do? I don't have any right to be jealous after what I did last night."

"First, let's be clear about this. What REALLY bothers you, the fact that Benton is with Blair? Or the fact that he ISN'T with you?"

"It's the same thing, isn't it?"

"No, not hardly. Do you really begrudge them some fun, or are you just frustrated that you haven't had the nerve to make a move?"

Another deep sigh. "Second one, I guess."

"Then just DO something about it. And I'd suggest you do it here, instead of waiting till you get back to Chicago."

"Why's that?"

"Because I want a chance to nail both of you."

Vecchio opened his mouth, then closed it. "Ellison, you give a whole new meaning to the term `honest cop.'"

"It should be safe to go back inside now."

*****************************

Blair was awakened by something very soft, warm, and wet caressing his balls. Eyes still shut, he smiled dreamily, and said, "I don't remember leaving a wake-up call."

A voice down by his crotch said, "A courtesy service."

The Guide reached down blindly, finding soft hair and burying his hands in it. "You just service to your heart's content."

The lapping resumed, moving up his stiffening cock. "You have a most intriguing personal taste, Blair. Quite intoxicating."

Blair's voice was husky. "You can get a better taste if you swallow it." He was engulfed by damp heat, and he groaned, arching upward. "Oh, Benny, the things you can do with that mouth! You can do a lot more than talk pretty."

Blair could only lie back and marvel at Fraser's oral dexterity. He knew that this was the first time the Mountie had ever given head, but he was doing fantastic. Of course, Blair reflected, there really wasn't such a thing as BAD fellatio, just unskilled. But Benton was working like a champion. He must be either very imaginative and intuitive, or else he'd payed close attention while Blair was blowing HIM.

In any case, Blair was soon bucking, shoving himself as far into Fraser's mouth as he could, hoping that he wasn't going to choke the sweet guy. He might have, if it had gone on long enough. But Fraser rolled his balls and used his tongue at exactly the right moment, and Blair orgasmed, shooting a burst of warm cream into the Mountie's eager mouth.

Sandburg went limp. "Wow, Fraser, that's a lot better than waking up to the clock radio. Speaking of which, what time is it?" He checked the clock. "It's almost four. What say we head to the station and see if anything has broken on that fake lawyer before we head to the hospital to relieve Jim and Stanley?"

"That would be the best course of action."

Blair got up and rummaged in a drawer. "Here." He tossed a bundle of clothing to Benton. "These sweats are a little too big for Jim. They should fit you. You need something a tad less conspicuous than the uniform if we're going to be looking for suspects."

"Very well." The soft material that had hung loosely on Jim hugged Fraser lovingly, like a second skin. "Are you sure these are not too tight, Blair?"

"Do they FEEL too tight?"

"No. Actually, they are quite comfortable."

"Good. We just have to keep you out of the gay bars. That ass could cause a riot. Let's go."

Part 10

10 am.

"Scratch my balls."

Jim lowered the newspaper he was reading, and looked at Stanley, who was staring at Solly. "Did he just say what I think he just said.?"

"I dunno. Lemme check. Solly, what did you just say?"

"I said scratch my balls. They itch like a motherfucker. It mus' be dat damn hoozacillin theys givin' me."

"You have my deepest sympathy, Solly, but I ain't going anywhere NEAR your nuts. I don't like you THAT way."

Solly jerked on the handcuffs that fastened him to the bed railing and whined, "You GOTTA! I'm goin' crazy here."

"Solly, all I GOTTA do is breathe. Think about something else."

"Like WHAT? Like how bad my fuckin' gut aches? The tube they jammed up my dick? Fuckin' TELETUBBIES? WHAT?!"

"Shit." Stanley looked at Jim pleadingly.

Jim shrugged. "Don't look at me. Not even with a metal gauntlet."

Solly jerked on the handcuffs again. "Wunna youse guys scratch my stones or else I'll have da `Merican Civic Liberry Union down on yer ass. Cop brutality. Cruel an' unusual punishment. Violation of my civil rights."

Stanley flipped him the bird. "Violate this."

Solly lifted his hips. "Move it closer..."

"Oh, crap, you are NASTY. Ya know, I'd kinda like to see whatever suit you brought go to court. I'd wear a tie, just to see the look on the judge's face."

"SCRATCH MY BALLS!"

Stanley sighed. "Jim, are we allowed to gag him?"


Jim thought, then shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Awful shortsighted. Solly, shut the fuck up. You're bothering my friend."

Solly grinned at him. "YOU scratch my balls."

Jim folded the paper neatly, laid it aside, then leaned forward. He narrowed his eyes, and Solly got very still. Jim showed his teeth in something that definitely was not a smile, and said softly, "Solly, I really think you don't want MY nails anywhere NEAR your private parts. Now, shut the fuck up." Solly shut the fuck up.

Jim picked up the paper again. "Want the sports section?"

****************************

Noon

"Gimme some pizza."

"No." Jim's hand hovered over the open box as he tried to decide between pepperoni and sausage-mushroom.

"C'mon, Ellison," Stanley pushed. "Hurry up before the cheese gets cold."

"They have a microwave down the hall."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"I WANT SOME PIZZA!"

"Tough shit, Solly." Jim finally settled on pepperoni. Despite Stanley's worries, the cheese was still warm and stretchy.

"But I din' have no brekfuss. Not even any a dem shitty hospital powdered eggs."

"Would you have eaten them if they'd brought them?"

"Fuck no. But dey coulda at least OFFERED."

"For the tenth time, Solly," Stanley lifted out a slice of sausage-mushroom and took a hefty bite. "You can't eat `cause you're going under sedation in a little while."

"So?"

"So, if you have a reaction, you could upchuck."

"So?"

"Well, personally it would be no great loss, but I'd be pissed if you strangled on your own puke before you had a chance to put Bernie away."

"Just a pepperoni?"

"Well..."

"Don't do it, Stanley. You'll teach him bad habits, and he'll think he can beg at the table all the time."

A nurse came in, carrying a tiny, fluted paper cup. She eyed the two pizza munching detectives severely. "You didn't give him any of that, did you?" They shook their heads. "Good. Otherwise I would have had to spank you." *Whoa. First those two I saw leaving this morning, now these two. Are they requiring looks now to become a policeman? I gotta start dating more cops.* "Okay, Mr. Tyson. I have a little meds to help get you ready for your operation."

Solly bit his bottom lip. *Funny* Jim thought. *When Blair and Stanley do that, it looks sexy. All I can think about with Solly is that Bernie apparently doesn't give his employees dental coverage.*

"Don' wanna." Solly mumbled.

"Please, Mr. Tyson." the nurse said tiredly. From her tone of voice, that could have translated as `Look, you sunovabitch...'

"Nurse?" She looked at Jim. "Does that medication come in suppository form? We could stick those pills up his ass for you." That got a smile. Under concentrated glares from the two detectives, Solly swallowed the pills.

"There. Those will work soon, and you'll start feeling groggy." She looked at the other two men. "You'll need to uncuff him so they'll be able to transport him."

"Will do."

When Jim moved to unlock the cuffs, she said, "On second thought, maybe you should wait until AFTER they shave him."

"I don' wanna shave." Solly made a kissing motion at her. "I like da George Michaels' stubbly look. Pretty sexy, huh?"

"Oh, I wasn't talking about your face, Mr. Tyson."

Solly looked confused. "No? Den what?" She looked pointedly below his waist. He flushed, then yapped. "NO FUCKIN' WAY!"

She shrugged. "You're having abdominal surgery. It's standard procedure to cut down on the risk of infection. But maybe you can persuade the orderly to just shave the right side." She left.

Straight faced, Stan said, "Well, Solly, your luck holds. Look at it this way," he comforted. "This should take care of the itchy balls. At least till the stubble starts to grow out."

********************************

Blair and Benton sought out the officer who had the most contact with the phony lawyer the day before. "We weren't going to let him in, since he wasn't on the list of regular counselors. But Tyson had been so adamant that a lawyer was on his way, and the guy was from a local firm."

"What was his name?"

"He left a card. Here, let me see..." He checked through a small folder, and came up with a small rectangle of stiff paper, then offered it to Blair. Blair accepted it and scanned it. He sighed,
and handed it to Fraser, who read it and sighed also. "What?"

"Adicus Finch. Mockingbird Associates. Oh, dear." Benton handed the card back to Blair. "I suppose this gentleman is not familiar with classic American cinema."

"Tell me," Blair said, with a touch more sarcasm than Benton thought was entirely nice. "Did this guy look anything like Gregory Peck?"

"Who?"

Blair threw up his hands. "C'mon, Benny. Let's take this to the lab and see if we can lift any fingerprints off it that don't belong to you, me, or Barney here."

At the lab, they had the card dusted. "Well," said the technician. "Luckily people tend to handle business cards by the corners and edges. I've eliminated both of you, and the genius who took the card, and I still got a couple of good ones from when the guy handed the card out, probably. Enough to run through the system for a pretty firm ID."

"I would suggest checking the Illinois database first. We believe that this person was dispatched by an individual in Chicago to perform an assassination here in Cascade." Fraser offered.

The lab worker shrugged. "Couldn't hurt." He fed the information into the computer, a digitized image of the fingerprints from the card popping up on the screen. Then he logged into the print
database in Illinois, and the program began a rapid check. In a moment, the screen stopped flickering, and one name appeared on the screen. "Whoa! Bulls eye on the first try!" He punched a few keys, and a picture and file information filled the screen. "What's this guy supposed to have done?"

"Given a possible snitch a cup of café au Blackflag."

"Oo, nasty. The name's Pavel Kol. Immigrated from Russia in 1991. No, um, `official' record over there. Charged with manslaughter, dropped. Manslaughter, case dismissed due to lack of evidence. Assault with a deadly weapon. Simple assault. Grievous bodily harm. Dumped battery acid on a guy's crotch." Both the Guide and the Mountie winced, Blair unconsciously covering his own crotch protectively.

Benton studied the mug shot. "He does not look like an excessively violent individual." The man in the picture was tall, but very thin, almost reedy looking. He had thinning hair, and a mild, bland face.

"Well, he rumored to be enforcement for hire in Chicago. People pretty much don't fuck with him. The Feebs have had him in for questioning a time or two, but he's never been caught on anything definite."

"Well, he has now." Blair declared. "Run us off a copy of his picture, and a few others that are close to his description. I want to take them down and see if the Incredible Gullible Guard can
identify him. The prints should be enough to have a warrant issued for him, but I'd like to have it clinched as firmly as possible."

"Can do." In a few moments, they had a printed copy of Kol's picture, and five others of men who were approximately his size and coloring. They went back down to the holding area, and showed the pictures to the guard.

He shuffled them, then handed back Kol's picture. "That's him. Tall, skinny guy. But he had a beard."

"You're sure?"

"With that nose? I've seen smaller beaks on toucans. Yeah, it was him."

"Bingo. C'mon, Frase, let's go get that warrant issued. Attempted murder, impersonation of an attorney, presenting false information to the police, possession of a set of brass balls as big as
cantaloupes...We'll see what we can come up with."

*************************************

Solly was giggling again.

"Geez, isn't he supposed to be asleep by now? She gave him that stuff, what, two, three hours ago?" Stanley stared at Solly, pained. Solly had a laugh that sounded almost like the seal snort
that blonde on `Three's Company' used to make. Not that he'd watched her much. He'd been too busy watching the guy who played Jack Tripper.

"I saw her when I went out for coffee. Things have gotten balled up in the OR. Big car accident came in, and they have to take care of the trauma first. The antibiotics are helping Solly, so he's not at the end of the list, but he's not at the top, either. It may be four, four thirty before they take him. We'll just have to stand it."

"I guess it's good he was blissed out when that orderly shaved him. Though I don't think the guy was prepared to have Solly ask him to shave the pubes in a heart shape."

"Who'd have thought Solly was a romantic?" Solly was still giggling, but he had his eyes closed. Stanley was sitting in the only chair. Jim casually rested a buttock on the arm, and looked down at him. "You ever thought about doing that?"

"What?"

"Shaving."

Stanley blushed furiously. "Geez, Ellison."

"No, really. Ever been with someone who shaved?"

"No." He paused. "What's it like?"

"Smoooth."

"Um."

"Sometimes Blair lets me shave his face. I've gotten real good at it. He's got surprisingly sensitive skin, with that beard growth, but I can do it without irritating or nicking him."

"Are you hinting at something?"

"Yes."

"Uhhhh...."

"Think about it."

Pause. "Okay."

"Okay."

"I'll THINK."

"That's all I ask." Jim grinned.

Part Eleven

Hospital, Downstairs

"No, Fraser, I really don't think it would be appropriate for you to buy Solly something from the gift shop."

"Well, Blair, the man IS having a rather remarkable run of bad luck..."

"The man is a scuzz bucket, Benton. An UNREPENTANT scuzz bucket."

"Well, yes, but..."

"Okay, a get well soon card. But no flowers. And I'm not signing it."

"Blair..."

"Oh, geez, not the reproachful eyes. Okay, gimme the pen."
***************
Upstairs

"IT'S LIKE RAAAAAAIN ON YER WEDDIN' DAY..."

"Solly..." Stanley was starting to sound desperate.

"IT'S A FREE RIIIIIIIIDE, BUT IT'S ON'Y ONE WAY...."

"Solly, please..."

"IT'S DA GOOD ADVIIIIIIICE DAT WOULD FUCK UP YER DAY..."

"Jim, for God's sake, DO SOMETHING!"

Jim had dialed his hearing down to below normal when Solly started on Alanis Morrisset, but it was still annoying as hell. "Actually, his version of the lyrics make a lot more sense. Solly, stop it, or I'll find a Jagged Little Pill, and cram it, okay?"

"Youse guys ain't no fun. What da fuck's da point o' goin' to a carrotokie bar iffn ya don' sing?

"I told you, Solly," Stanley said patiently. "We're not in a kareoke bar. You're blitzed."

"Hey, den it's been a good Saturday night!"

"Just shut up."

"Okey dokey." (Minute pause) "Feelings..."

"OH JESUS!"

**********************************

In the Gift Shop

"Turtles, or a Mars bar?"

"Benny, he probably won't be able to eat solid food for awhile."

"Yes, I know. But it would just be a nice gesture. Oh, look. Stuffed animals..."

"HELL NO."

"Not for Solly. Look, Blair. A little stuffed bear. He looks just like you."

"Ben, that is SO totally ridiculous and uncool, and...uh...He IS kinda cute."

"Here."

"No, really. You shouldn't. You really think he looks like me?"

**********************************

In Solly's Room

"IN DA VILLAGE, DA PISSY VILLAGE, DA LION SLEEPS T'NIIIIIGHT..."

"Jim, are you SURE it would be considered premeditated? Couldn't I claim manslaughter?"

"Not with him handcuffed to the bed. Though if we made a tape, you'd have a hell of a case of mitigating circumstances."

A tall, skinny man in green scrubs came into the room. "My, he's the most cheerful surgery candidate I've ever run into."

"PLEASE tell me you're here to take him away," Stanley pleaded.

"Oh, no, not yet. He has another stage of sedation before we take him to the OR."

"Well, hurry it up, please. He may start on show tunes at any minute."

The doctor pulled a capped syringe out of his breast pocket. "Don't worry. This will take the music right out of him."

Jim was studying the doctor, idly. "Say, doc, I was wondering. Do you have to wear some special type of face mask in the OR?"

"Well, we always wear them, for the patient's protection."

"I know. I was just wondering if you had to have some sort of special face shield, what with that beard..."

********************************************
In the Elevator

"So he'll have to stay over till at least tomorrow evening. I was thinking we could requisition a couple of uniforms to stay with him for the night, and you and Stanley both could come back to the apartment."

"That would be very considerate, Blair. But actually, I was hoping that we could...um...you know."

"We can."

"But Jim and Stanley may want to..."

"They can."

"Oh." Pause. "The apartment is rather...open. And small."

"Yeah. But the bed is BIG. And sturdy."

"Ah." Pause. "Do you mean..."

"Yes."

"Oooh..."

"Dear. I know. Does the idea bother you?"

"Yes. But in a very interesting way."

***********************************
In Solly's Room

"No, the usual mask works very well." The doctor wrapped a piece of rubber tubing around Solly's arm, knotting it tightly above the elbow.

"Aye, dat pinches." Solly complained.

"Sorry, but I have to get a vein. Make a fist." Solly did...with middle finger protruding rigidly.

"Solly! Be nice." Stanley scolded. Solly snickered. The doctor poked experimentally at the crook of Solly's elbow. "You're not gonna inject it into the IV shunt? That's what they did when I was in when I was shot."

"Me, too." Jim sat forward. "Seems like it would be a lot less trouble. Solly looks like he has deep veins. Good thing you didn't decide to be a junkie, Solly. You would have eaten yourself up trying to spike those little spaghetti strands you have."

"For this, we prefer a fresh vein." The doctor uncapped the syringe. Okay, Mister Tyson, this will only sting a little..."

"Don' wanna shot." Solly started jerking his hand, his arm shifting rapidly.

(Pretty much at the same time)

Stanley, "Doc, shouldn't you be sterilizing his skin, or something?"

Jim, "Wait a minute. That syringe looks..."

Solly, grinning, "Aye, Pavel! Ya in ta get dat honker o' yers carved down?"

(Door opens.)

"HIT MAN!" (In stereo)

Rapid scuffle.

"OW! MudderFUCKER, dat hurt!"

"Fuck, doesn't ANYONE have some handcuffs?! Blair, take a set off Solly."

"Can do, Jim. Here, lemme...Okay, got him. Jim, Stanley, this is Pavel Kol, AKA Atticus Finch. Solly's `lawyer', and Bernie's enforcer."

Fraser gently removed the hypodermic needle from Solly's arm, just as a real doctor came in. "What's going on here?"

"An attempted assassination, Doctor. Kol, what was in the syringe?"

The Russian, hauled to his feet by Jim, spat on the floor. "Kurite moju trubku, ment."

Solly groaned. "Oo, what you said!"

"There was nothing in the syringe," Jim informed them. "He was planning on putting an air bubble in Solly's bloodstream. Probably hoped we'd assume it was natural causes. Dumbass. But you should check him over, just in case, Doc. Blair, Benny. Stanley and I will take this cossack downtown and book him. Oh, Pavel. I have a feeling the Feds are gonna LOVE you."

The Russian scowled. "I'll deal."

"Not up to us to say. Let's go, Stanley." Stanley went out into the hallway. Jim lifted Kol's braceletted hands behind him till he was forced up on tiptoe. "Hey, Ben?"

"Yes Jim?"

"You look good in my sweats."

(Blush) "Thank you."

Jim leaned close to his ear. "Bet you'd look better out of them." Fraser turned as rosy as the sky over the eastern horizon in a Canadian dawn. "Has Blair talked to you yet?"

"You mean about...uh...a menage au quatro?"

"Yeah."

"Yes."

"Well?"

"I'm considering. Stanley..."

"Don't worry about Stanley. Blair?"

"Yeah?"

"Work on him, punkin."

"Will do."

"Okay, Pavel, we're off to get you acquainted with one of the finer steel bar establishments in the northwestern United States. You have the right to remain silent..."

"KURITE MOJU TRUBKU!"

"You've already said that. Anything you say can be taken down and used against you in a court of law..."

Part Twelve

"Benny, exactly how attached are you to Ray?"

Benton thought for a moment. "Well, Blair, attached is perhaps a bit mild to explain how I feel about Ray. For instance, I am attached to the habit of breathing."

"Oo, that bad? And you haven't said anything to him about it?"

"You may not be aware, but we Canadians are not naturally the most demonstrative people in the world. Add to that the fact that Mounties are encouraged to control their feelings, plus my, I must admit, rather emotionally dysfunctional upbringing...It is not easy."

"Geez. I feel for ya, man. I remember how hard it was at first, tryin' to act like nothing was going on inside when I was around Jim. I was so sure that he was cast iron straight, and would kick my ass if I batted my eyelashes at him. Then I found out that he thought that I was a stud muffin, but a real skirt chaser, so HE hadn't been letting on..." Blair shook his head. "Months of perfectly good screwing time, down the drain. You shouldn't let it happen to you, man."

Fraser sighed. "I really would like to become more intimate with Ray. But I am worried."

"Wellllll, you could kinda do like the straight couples do. Start out with a group date. I mean, remember Skeets? We all got along good there, didn't we?"

"Yes. It was very relaxed and pleasant."

"So just think about taking it a step farther." Fraser looked doubtful. "Look, Ben, I know you like me. You told me you're hot for Stanley. What do you think of Jim?"

"I...he..."

"Don't be afraid to say anything to me. In fact, I'll worry about your hormone levels if you don't want to jump his bones."

(blush) "Jim is a very attractive man. Different from you or Ray. Very...intense."

"Oh, yeah, he's that, alright. So, Ben, you're attracted to all three of us. What's the problem?"

"You make it sound so logical."

"I'm trained as a teacher, Ben. Plus I'm horny. I can rationalize anything. But this DOES make sense."

"I need to think a little more."

"Go right ahead. Solly won't be out of surgery for a little while, and I don't know how long it will take Jim to get our relief. But try to decide before we leave, huh, Frase?"

*************************************************************

Stanley sighed, pushing away the last form. "Ya know, Ellison, I am so glad I didn't go to law school, like my old man wanted. I couldn't have stood corporate or tax or entertainment or any of that shit. I'd have had to be in the criminal justice system. And I couldn't have been defense, `cause I'm not real good at deluding myself about whether or not some scum bag found with his hand on a knife still stuck in a victim might not have just happened along and been tryin' to pull it out. That means I would've been DA. And when I see the shit they have to sort out on jurisdictions and such, like in this case...Damn, I'm glad I'm a cop."

"Amen to that. The feds will be in on this one. Pavel seems to know a lot about a wide range of people, and he's ready to play `Let's Make a Deal'." Jim finished up his last bit of paperwork and dropped it in the appropriate stack. "Done. And I am PAST ready to go home."

"Did you arrange relief for Blair and Benny?"

"Yeah, but not for another couple of hours. They gotta wait till shift change. They'll be in tonight. Then we just wait and see when the hospital wants to release Solly." Jim got up and got his jacket. "C'mon. I need to stop at the store on the way back to the apartment."

"I hope you plan to get beer. I noticed a bit of a shortage while I was rooting through the refrigerator this morning."

"I plan to get all kinds of supplies, Stan."

As they walked out to the truck, Stanley said, "Hey Jim? Do you suppose there'll be time before the guys come home to...uh..."

"Of course. But why don't we wait till they can join us?"

"Jesus, are you crazy? I can't do it with Benny in the same apartment. He'd freak."

"He might surprise you. But we don't have to worry about that right now." They stopped at a store. "I think I'll just get a couple of pans of lasagna for supper. They have a really good refrigerated gourmet brand here. Blair doesn't even complain about the fat content. That, and a salad and some garlic bread should cover it."

He got a cart, and they wandered the aisles, picking up what they needed. In honor of Fraser, he got a couple of six packs of a Canadian imported beer. When they had all the food, Stanley started for the check out line, but Jim turned the cart down the personal care aisle.

Stanley trailed, and watched as Jim tossed in a couple of packs of condoms tubes of lubricant. He cocked an eyebrow. "Planning on a big night?" Jim smiled. He walked down a little farther, and added a small pair of sharp scissors, a package of disposable razors, and a can of shaving cream. "Ellison," Stanley protested. "I only said I'd THINK about it." Jim strolled to the check out, whistling. "Damn." Stanley followed.

************************************************************

Blair and Fraser watched as Solly was unloaded onto the bed. "How's he doing?" Blair asked the attendant.

"Better than he has any right to."

"Uh oh. What'd he do?"

"You should have left him cuffed. Doped up as he was, he STILL managed to slip the chest restraint and goosed the scrub nurse. We had to resterilize a whole tray of instruments."

Fraser shook his head sadly. "Solly, Solly, Solly."

Solly opened his eyes blearily. "Present?" Then closed them again and started to snore.h heaved a sigh. "Well, that's over with. When can he be discharged?"

"You'll have to ask his doctor, but I would assume not before day after tomorrow. We have to see how he's healing, and make sure there isn't any infection."

As the attendants left, Fraser said, "Well, Blair, it seems that Stanley and I must impose on your hospitality a bit longer."

"Believe me, Frase, it's no imposition." He pinched the Mountie's butt. "Or haven't you noticed yet?"

*************************************************************

At the apartment, Jim put the groceries away in the refrigerator. Stanley stood at the table, fingering the shaving cream. "Look, Ellison, this is a bad idea. I mean, it took me a long time to GROW those pubes. I thought I wasn't ever gonna get body hair."

Jim picked up the supplies, and got a basin out of the cabinet, filling it with steaming water. He pushed the bowl into Stanley's hands then walked out to the living room.

Stanley followed. "I'm serious, Jim. I mean, after all, it's MY body. I have to LIVE in it."

Jim disappeared into the bathroom, returned with two fluffy towels, a face cloth, and a bottle of baby oil, and started up the stairs to the loft.

Stanley called after him. "You can't just ASSUME that I'm going to let you do this!" No answer. "Fuck." Stanley climbed the stairs slowly, being careful not to let the water slosh out of the basin.

Upstairs, he saw that Jim had one of the towels spread out on the bed, and the other one slung around his neck. He pointed to the night stand, and Stanley set the bowl down on it. Jim began shaking the can of shaving cream. "Get undressed."

Stanley folded his arms and dropped his chin on his chest. "I don't wanna."

"Bull shit." Jim stepped close, putting his face right up to Stanley's. He whispered. "You're heart's going ninety to nothing." He leaned even closer, cheek almost brushing Stanley's, and took a long, luxuriant sniff. "And you smell like sex."

Stanley could feel his already shaky resolve melting. "Jim..."

Ellison's lips touched his ear. "Tell ya what, Stanley. You let me do this, sometime before you leave, I'll let you fuck me."

Stanley pictured Jim's ass, and gulped. "You mean that?"

Jim nodded. "And I don't do it with just anyone, Stan. Not often, either. I'm TIGHT."

Stanley kicked off his shoes and reached for the hem of his shirt. He could get naked very quickly when he wanted to. And he wanted to. When he was nude, he lay down on the bed, positioning himself on the towel. The sentinel slipped a couple of pillows under his shoulders and head, propping him up. "There. Now you can watch."

Jim picked up the scissors and sat beside Stanley on the edge of the mattress. "I'm going to trim you short first. Don't want to leave any more drag for the razor than we have to."

"Oh, shit. Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a horndog."

Very carefully, Jim slid the bright little blades into Stanley's light brown pubic hair, and snipped, sheering off a swatch of curls close to the skin. Stanley shivered. "Don't worry, Blondie. These are really sharp."

"Ya know, that doesn't make me feel better AT ALL."

Jim clipped slowly, pruning the pubic hair down to soft stubble less than a quarter inch long. Stanley held his breath while he worked around his balls. "Okay, that's done." Jim laid aside the scissors, and brushed trimmings off onto the towel.

"Could we maybe just leave it like this?"

"Nuh uh." Jim soaked the face cloth, then wet Stanley's crotch. "Is the water warm enough?"

"Yeah, it's fine. But don't you think that..." Jim pressed the button on top of the can and pink gel oozed from the nozzle into his palm. "Pink?"

"It's got special lubricants and skin conditioners in it." He rubbed his hands together, and the gel transformed into thick, white lather. Jim began to dollop it on Stanley's groin. "Besides, the old fashioned stuff would have been a little cold."

He did it twice more, till Stanley was thickly coated, up his tummy to his belly button, and down the crack of his ass. "Ellison, what are you doing?"

Jim rinsed his hands, then uncapped a razor and dipped it in the water. "I'm gonna get it ALL, Vecchio. That includes the treasure trail leading down, and the fuzz in the crease of the peach."

"Oh shit. Look..."

"Not now. Let me concentrate. I mean, it's almost impossible to cut someone with one of these, you practically have to TRY, but I don't want to give you razor burn, either."

Jim touched the blade to the skin of Stanley's belly, and the smaller man got very still and quiet. Stanley watched silently as the razor glided through the white fluff, leaving a clean trail. After a few inches, Jim stopped, wiped the blade on the end of the towel, rinsed it, and started again.

This wasn't so bad, Stanley decided. After all, Jim was working on a fairly neutral area, nothing really important was in any peril, and he was only losing fuzz right now. And it DID feel kinda...interesting. The skin exposed felt very cool and clean.

Jim switched to a fresh razor, and started on the pubic area itself. He moved even more slowly now, with short strokes rather than long glides. He wiped the razor more often. Stanley felt a gentle pull as the blade sliced off the stiffer pubic hairs, making a barely audible rasp. When Jim lifted aside his cock to work around the base, Stanley realized that he was getting hard.

"Jim..."

"Sh, Stanley. Not yet. Be patient." Stanley held his breath as the razor gently glided around the bottom of his shaft, cleaning off even the few tiny hairs that grew there. Jim held his balls in one hand, and shaved them with the tiniest strokes imaginable. "Okay. Bend your knees, put your feet flat on the bed, and spread your legs. Then reach down and pull your cheeks apart for me."

Stanley obeyed, and Jim, with meticulous care, began to shave the crack of his ass. Stanley's voice trembled. "You know Ellison, there are only two people on the face of the earth I would trust to do this. One of them is Benny, but he'd probably use that big ass knife of his. And I bet I wouldn't get a nick, either."

Jim finished, took the damp cloth, and wiped Stanley thoroughly. As Stanley lowered himself to the mattress, Jim said. "First stage is done."

Stanley was trembling, and his cock was as hard as a rock. "FIRST STAGE? What the FUCK does that mean?"

"Can't let you skin get irritated." Jim squirted baby oil into his hand. He rubbed the oil across Stanley's lower belly, then down to his groin. He worked the glistening fluid gently into the clean, bare skin. It was very white. He carefully massaged every bit, tenderly rolling Stanley's balls in their newly pristine scrotum. Then his right hand slid down into the cleft of Stanley's ass.

Stanley moaned as Jim's greased finger slid into his ass hole. "That's another good thing about the oil," Jim whispered. "Things slide so easily." He took Stanley's prick in his left hand, and began to jerk him off.

Jim worked his finger in the smaller man's anal passage while he stroked his cock. Every few passes, Jim would pause to stroke the baby soft skin around Stanley's dick, or tease his smooth balls. In no time Stanley was grunting, shoving himself up into Jim's hand.

When Jim judged that he was close enough, he bent down and sucked the cock head into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the heated flesh. Stanley tasted of pre cum and minerals and salt. Jim took the towel, and sucked hard, then dipped his tongue into the tiny, weeping slit at the tip.

Stanley made a whooping sound and shoved up, ass lifting off the bed. Jim pulled back and caught the erupting semen in the towel neatly. Stanley collapsed back on the mattress, panting. "Geez, that was intense."

Jim stretched out next to him, propping his head on his hand. "Yeah. You may find yourself getting more spontaneous hard ons from now on. You're going to be sensitized. Be SURE not to put starch in your underwear."

"Starch? Hell, I'm gonna buy some silk drawers. Maybe even some panties."

Jim burst out laughing.

Part 13

Stanley was yawning. "Do you think I have time for a nap before the guys get home?"

"Probably. Go ahead. I'm going to go down and see if I can find a game on tv."

"Kay." Stanley rolled over on his belly, tucking a pillow comfortably under his chin, and drawing a sheet up over himself. "Tell me when Benny gets here, huh?"

"Will do."

Jim went downstairs and turned on the television. Sure enough, there was a basketball game on, and he settled in to watch it. During a commercial break, he got up, and tiptoed stealthily up to the loft. Stanley was snoring peacefully.

Jim gently, carefully, tweezed the sheet up between two fingers and pulled it down to the foot of the bed, uncovering Stanley. He made sure that the sheet was bunched far down, well out of Stanley's reach, unless he turned over and sat up.

For a moment, Jim just stood and admired the view. That really WAS a totally delectable ass. It should be shared with the world. Or at least a Mountie and a Guide.

Stanley's gentle snores never faltered. Jim sneaked back down stairs and taped a message to the front door. It read `QUIET PLEASE. COP SLEEPING'. There, that should insure a quiet entrance by Blair and Benny. Speaking of whom, should be home soon. He sat back in front of the television, humming to himself happily.

************************************
The two uniformed policemen finally arrived around dusk. "Thank heavens," Blair breathed, as he and Fraser walked down the hall. "Solly hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, so how the hell did he manage those broccoli, bean, and cabbage farts?"

"I believe it was through sheer will power and determination, Blair. I have not smelled anything like that since Diefenbacher dragged home a salmon that had apparently beached itself during spawning a week or more before."

"Maybe I'll break out some of my aroma therapy essences when we get home."

"It certainly could not hurt. Will Jim be picking us up?"

"Nah. We'll take a taxi. Why make him get out after the ruckus we've been through lately?"

When they reached the apartment, Blair pulled the sign off the door, studying it. "This must mean Stanley. Jim would just dial his hearing down if he was too worried about being disturbed."

"Stanley does need his rest. I shall remove my shoes upon entering."

"Good enough idea. Might as well be comfortable."

They went in, both taking off their shoes just inside the door. Jim, on the couch, held up a finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion. Blair went to him, whispering, "Stanley sacked out, huh?"

"He's been exerting himself lately. Fraser?"

"Yes Jim?"

"Stanley wanted you to go straight up when you got here. I think he has something to show you."

"Oh. Alright."

As Fraser started toward the stairs, Blair eyed the smug expression on Jim's face. "Alright, what did you do? Is Stanley trussed up like a Christmas package, or what?"

"No, but that would have been the second best idea."

*******************************

For a very large man, Benton Fraser could move very, very quietly when he chose to. Not wanting to disturb his partner until the last possible moment, he crept silently up the stairs. When he finally reached the top landing, he froze.

He was presented with one of the most stunningly beautiful, and unexpected, sights he'd ever experience. Ray, laid out on his stomach, stark naked. His pale skin gleamed in the dim light. His arms and legs were sprawled in innocent abandon. Benton stared, enthralled by his slender, muscular grace. His blonde hair was even more ruffled than usual, and his piquant features were relaxed and peaceful in sleep. And his ass...

Oh, dear, his ass. Benton felt like he could write a sonnet to that ass. Plump, yet firm. White, deeply and cleanly cleft, smooth...very smooth. Benton gulped. "Ray?"

Stanley Vecchio's bright blue eyes snapped open, and his body went rigid, legs snapping together. "Benny?"

"Um, yes. You...Jim said you wanted to show me something."

"ELLISON!"

Jim's voice floated up from below. "Oh Stan, Ben's here."

"VERY FUCKING FUNNY! Oh, geez. Look, Ben, go downstairs for a minute, wouldya?"

"Certainly." Fraser turned, and actually went down a step before stopping. He paused, looking down at Jim and Blair on the sofa. Blair silently made shooing motions at him. Jim was grinning. Ben squared his shoulders, turned around, and went back up. "No, Ray, I do not think I want to go downstairs just yet."

"What? Benny, go downstairs."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?! Well, well...turn around, then."

"No."

"FUCK! What happened to that damn RCMP politeness?"

"It is on vacation right now."

Cursing, Stanley groped, searching for the sheet. "Son of a bitch. ELLISON, YOU'RE GONNA PAY FOR THIS!"

Again Jim's voice floated up. "You'll thank me some day."

"God, this is embarrassing. Benny, please."

Fraser walked over to the bed, took Stanley's shoulder, and quickly flipped him over. Stanley's hands flew to cover himself, and a pink tide swept up his cheeks. He blushed as hard as Fraser ever had.

Fraser said, in a small voice. "Ray, you are naked. VERY naked. Much more naked than I would have ever expected."

"Christ."

"Have you always been like this?"

"Oh, hell no! It was that crazy Cascade cop down there. He talked me into it. I swear, I never believed in hypnotism before, but I don't know now...Benny, you look kinda funny."

"I was just thinking, Ray."

"Uh...what about?"

"If I had imagined for one moment that you were like that, under your clothes, I believe I would have lost control of myself a long time ago." He reached down and took hold of Stanley's hands, pulling them away. He moved them up above Stanley's head, and pressed them down to the mattress. "Leave your hands there."

When Fraser released him, Stanley didn't move. He gazed up at the Mountie with a stunned look on his face. Fraser pulled his sweatshirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. Stanley licked his lips. "Benny?"

"Be quiet, Ray." Benton pulled down the sweat pants, then his jockeys. For a moment, he stood naked beside the bed. Stanley stared, mouth dropping open softly. Constable Benton Fraser, clothed, was an impressive sight. Nude, he was downright awesome.

Ray's eyes dropped the length of his sculptured torso, down his flat abdomen, and came to rest on the long, thick cock jutting from nut brown pubic hair. Stanley's own cock stirred. He breathed. "Please..."

"Yes, Ray." He reached out, and laid his hand on the curve of Stanley's hip. Then he slid it slowly onto his groin, stroking the freshly shaved skin. Stanley shivered violently, whimpering. The touch was intense, electric. The combination of emotion and the newly sensitized skin was potent. The blood thumped in his veins, pounding directly to his dick. Ben got up on the bed with him, crawling over his supine body.

Stanley stared up at his best friend as he loomed over him. *I feel like a goddam virgin. I just hope I don't cum the first time he touches my cock. God, he's so big...*

Fraser crouched over Ray on his hands and knees, bent his head, and kissed him for the first time. Ray's lips parted readily, and Benton finally found out what Ray tasted like. It was so good that he didn't stay gentle and light as he'd planned. He WAS going to start off slow, knowing that Ray might feel awkward about this. Heaven knew BENTON felt awkward. But it was too good to resist.

Instead of the teasing that he had intended, he plunged. Luckily, this seemed to be what Ray wanted, too. His tongue met Ben's with equal fervor, and they proceeded to devour each other. Ray buried his hands in Fraser's hair, holding him almost desperately. When he had control of his tongue, when Fraser wasn't sucking on it, he mumbled against his lips, "I didn't know, Benny. I was afraid..."

"It's alright, Ray."

Ray's head jerked back and he looked at Fraser in astonishment. "Frase, you used a contraction!"

Fraser shrugged. "What can I say? It's what you do to me, Ray. Now, be quiet. I mean, don't talk. You can make all the noise you want. I think I'd like that." Stanley answered with a groan, flinging his arms around Fraser's neck. "Yes, like that." Fraser started kissing him again.

Benton lowered himself onto Ray, covering the smaller man with his body. The skin to skin contact was maddeningly pleasurable. Due to the difference in their body sizes, his cock lay along Ray's thigh. That would do for the moment. He clamped his legs over Ray's, and began to hump slowly.

Ray's rigid cock rubbed against Fraser's firm belly with every motion he made, smearing it with slick precum. Stanley started to thrust up at him, trying to increase the delicious friction.

Ben left Ray's lips, and moved down to his throat. He fastened his mouth on a patch of skin, feeling the strong, fast beat of his lover's pulse, and began to suck, hard. Ray whined, twisting under him, but not trying to escape. He arched his neck in mute invitation, presenting himself more fully. The submissive gesture inflamed Fraser even more. He nipped and worried at the skin, then licked it, and started sucking again. His hips speeded up.

Stanley was being swept away. Ben had always been so cool, so civilized. He'd never suspected this wilder side. But he should have known. Ben survived up in the territories. That was unforgiving land. You didn't thrive out there unless there was a bit of a savage somewhere deep in your soul. And now, Ben was letting the primitive loose. They both understood, without a word being spoken, that this was a claiming. Things were going to be different when they got back to Chicago.

Fraser shifted suddenly, moving up a little. His hard on slid along Ray's, and the smaller man went crazy. His legs hooked over the back of Benton's thighs, and he began to buck upward wildly, hands sliding to scrabble at the Mountie's back. A little surprised, Benton stayed still for a moment, letting the man beneath him pump against him.

Then Stanley went still, grabbed Fraser's head, and stared into his eyes. "Fuck me."

Fraser twitched. It took all his self control not to cum when he heard those words. But he held onto his control, and said hoarsely. "I don't have a rubber."

"I don't care. I'm clean. I KNOW your are. Fuck me."

"Ray, I need to get lubrication..."

"No. I'm still slick from the oil Jim used." He grabbed Fraser's hand and wormed it down, between them, to the spread cleft of his ass. "Feel."

The crease was, indeed, slippery. Fraser's fingertips grazed Ray's ass hole, and his lover tried to push down on them. He probed experimentally. The muscular ring gave with a little resistance, but not too much. He managed to slide a finger in easily. Stanley pushed down on it eagerly.

"Do it, Benny. I want you inside me. I want to feel the pulse of your blood from the inside. Make me yours."

Fraser pulled his hand free, and shifted, fitting his cock head against the puckered opening. "You ARE mine, Ray." He pushed hard, knowing that this was what his lover wanted.

Stanley threw his head back, howling as the thick shaft of flesh plowed up into him, scraping over his prostate on the way. "BEN! Shit, yeah. Gimme all of it!" Fraser didn't stop till he was buried in his partner's hot, tight flesh. And he didn't stop then, beginning to move immediately.

Neither one of them heard Jim say sharply. "Blair! Put that fucking camera down!"

"Aw, Jim! They might like it recorded. First times are so special."

"No. Let them have a little privacy this time. They don't need an audience for this."

"Well, alright. But it's not like we can't HEAR them."

"Did I say you couldn't listen?"

Neither Fraser nor Stanley ever knew how close they had come to having their first screw immortalized.

Fraser pumped strongly. Blair had been wonderful, but this...This was RAY. It added a whole new dimension. Ray, holding his cock in that hot, liquid vice. Ray, scratching at his back, his nipples. Ray, moaning his name and obscenities mixed with endearments. Ray...Ray...Ray...

"I love you, Ray." he moaned. He shoved harder than ever, and his cream exploded into the clenching, rippling channel of Ray's body.

"Love you, too, Ben." Stanley whispered, clutching him. "For a long time. Forever."

Leaving his softening cock in Ray's ass, Ben reached down and took hold of his lover's slick, rigid cock. "Let me take care of you." He stroked with surprising tenderness, kissing Ray thoroughly all the while. When he gave his balls a gentle squeeze, Ray splashed Ben's hands, and his own belly with waves of hot cum, moaning into Ben's mouth.

Knowing that he couldn't leave his weight on the smaller man, but reluctant to release him, Fraser rolled over on his back, pulling Ray on top of him. Ray grunted as Fraser's cock slid free, and let his head drop on the Mountie's broad shoulder.

For a long time they just lay there, breath slowly returning to normal. Then Fraser realized that Ray was shaking, and hot tears were dropping on his shoulder. "Ray? Are you alright? I...I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Gawd, no, Ben. I just...I don't know. I never thought I could have you. I'm just so fucking HAPPY. I always thought that bit about tears of happiness was bull shit."

Fraser took Ray's hand and moved it up to his own face. Ray felt a trickle of moisture, and lifted his head to stare at his lover. There were tears streaking Fraser's face, but he was smiling brilliantly. "No Ray, it's not bull shit."

Part Fourteen

Blair advanced almost to the top of the stairs, and peered into the loft through the stair rail. He watched with affectionate approval as Benny fondled a very satiated looking Stanley, who was cuddled up beside him. "Hello, young lovers."

Benton and Stanley both smiled at him, Stanley a bit distractedly, as he had to take time away from kissing Fraser's chest. "Good evening, Blair," Fraser said mildly. From his civil tone, one would hardly guess that he'd just finished fucking his partner raw. "I hope that we did not disturb you and Jim."

"Oh, perish the thought! People pay good money to listen to stuff like that, and we got it free. Jim's putting the lasagna in the oven now, and I'm going to go mix the salad. I expect you fellas probably worked up an appetite."

Stanley sat up, interested. "I could eat."

Fraser dragged him back down, growling, "I will require a few minutes rest before we can try that, Ray."

"Benny! I meant..." He noticed the Canadian's smile, and sighed ruefully. "I may end up kinda regretting this yet. I have a feeling I'm gonna be burning off a lot of calories from now on."

"Perhaps a high protein diet..." Stanley slapped at him. "Blair, exactly how many calories ARE there in sperm?" Stanley hid his head under a pillow.

"I don't know, Ben, but you can probably find it on the Internet. See ya downstairs."

********************************************************************

"YIPE!"

Blair and Jim looked over to see a wide eyed Stanley scoot down the last few stairs, hands over his butt, followed by a grinning Fraser.

"That big Canuck GOOSED me!"

"Well, Stanley, if you WILL go waving that tempting ass around like that..."

"Incorrigible. Look it up if you don't understand."

"I understand, and you are quite accurate." Fraser tried to goose him again, and ended up in a chase around and over the furniture.

"Cut it out, Benny! I'm...uh...kinda tender."

"Sorry, Ray." He caught the smaller man, and dropped an apologetic kiss on his nose, then picked him up and carried him to the table.

Stanley dangled in his arms with a long suffering look on his face. "What am I? You're security blanket?"

"Yes. I intend to sleep under you at every opportunity." He deposited Stanley gently in a chair.

Plates were already on the table, and Blair distributed cutlery. "I envy you, Ray. You're gonna have doors opened, chairs held..." Jim, passing behind Blair with a basket of garlic bread, swatted him on the head. "OW! Benny's a gentleman, unlike SOME people, who shall remain nameless, but who's initials are James Ellison." Jim, passing on his way to get glasses from the cabinet, swatted him again. "OW! Is this some weird new type of Sentinel foreplay?"

"No, it's Guide discipline."

Jim got oven mitts and removed the pans of lasagna from the oven. He set the richly bubbling pans on trivets and said, "There. Those need to sit a few minutes. That'll give us time for the salad."

They all sat down. Fraser, feeling rather festive, even consented to a glass of wine.

"Shit! We've corrupted him." Stanley watched the Mountie sip the wine.

"Yes," Fraser agreed. "And you have to make an honest man out of me."

"I s'pose Thatcher will come after me with a shot gun if I don't?"

Jim jerked his head at the pair. "Blair, I think we may be catching."

Blair was piling salad on plates. "Last I heard smart ass wasn't contagious."

When the four men finished there wasn't more than a tablespoon of food left. Fraser began stacking plates. "Ray and I will do the dishes."

Stanley blinked. "We will?"

"Yes, we will."

"Crap. Domesticity already." He helped gather up the dirty dishes and take them to the sink.

"The secret is very hot water..."

"Benny, do NOT give me instructions on how to wash dishes. I'll read Heloise's Hints if I want that."

Blair and Jim, finishing the last of the wine, watched them. Jim whispered to Blair, "Well?"

Blair nodded, and whispered back. "I think so."

"What first?"

Blair pursed his lips. "Oo, decisions, decisions. I want Stanley."

"Don't blame you. Top or bottom?"

"The poor guy just got through saying he's a little sore. What do you think?"

"That's my boy. Unselfish. That works out fine, because I can't wait to get my hands on The Great White North."

"Top or bottom?"

"Fuck, I don't care."

"Wise man."

Stanley stacked the last dish in the drain rack while Fraser swabbed out the sink. "You see, Ray? That was not so tedious."

"Sez you. Don't blame me if I get dishpan hands." Stanley drained the inch he'd left in his wine glass. "So, what's on the agenda tonight?" He arched an eyebrow at the two Cascade policemen. "He asked innocently."

Jim grinned. "Outstanding." He looked at Fraser "Benny?"

Benton was neatly folding the dish towel. "Yes Jim?"

"C'mon, Benny. Don't be evasive. Have you thought about it?"

"Yes, Jim."

"Well?"

Benton looked at Blair. "Is he normally this hard to communicate with? I have already said `yes' twice."

"He's just so happy that he can't believe his ears."

Jim stood up and strolled over to Fraser. Benton watched him approach, with a faint smile. The sentinel moved in very close. "It's gonna be kinda nice not to have to stoop when I kiss someone."

Blair, who had pulled Stanley down on his lap, said, "Yeah, well, I finally won't have to worry about neck strain."

"Vecchio," Jim called back, never taking his eyes off Fraser, "I know it's early in you're relationship, and all that, but would you mind a hell of a lot if I popped Benny's cherry?"

"Shit, like I'd deny him that? Nah, if he wants to."

Jim smiled at Benton. "How about it, Ben? Would you mind?"

"Oh, absolutely not." Benny made a pre-emptive strike and put his arms around Jim before Jim could embrace him, kissing him resoundingly.

Jim came up from the kiss panting lightly. "I think I've found another bossy bottom."

Stanley was running his hands through Blair's lush crop of curls. "Has Ellison ever tied you to anything with this?"

"SHHHH! Don't give him any ideas. He's inventive enough as it is." Blair ruffled Stanley's short blonde wisps in turn. "Between you and Jim, there's hardly a decent handful for a guy to hang onto." Blair's voice dropped, "Course his IS kinda deserting, if you know what I mean."

"I heard that, Sandburg," Jim called. "It's caused by lots and lots of testosterone."

"I would not argue with that," Fraser murmured. Jim had him backed up against the counter, had moved in between his thighs, and was humping him in a slow, sensual rhythm.

Stanley nibbled Blair's earlobe. "Look, babe, not that your aren't hot stuff, but...um...like I told Benny..."

Blair hugged him. "You're on top."

Stanley sighed gratefully. "Good, `cause I wouldn't want to miss this opportunity, but I really AM sore."

Blair smiled seductively. "I'll see what I can do to make you forget that."

"I ought to warn you, Jim," Fraser had run his hands up under Jim's sweatshirt and was stroking his nipples. "I am afraid that it may take awhile for me to climax, after that lovely interlude with
Stanley."

Jim's eyes were half closed with pleasure. "Don't worry, Ben. We have two other guys in reserve, remember?"

Fraser looked startled. "You mean...uh..."

"Tag team. That's the great thing about multiples. There's always SOMEONE rarrin' to go."

Fraser glanced at where Blair and Ray were snuggling, and got a thoughtful look in his eyes. "That is a fascinating possibility." They resumed kissing.

"Hey, you guys." Stanley was headed for the stairs, and Blair was hanging back near the kitchen. "We're going upstairs, after I grab the stuff out of the bathroom. Don't stay too long, `kay? Cause we are DEFINITELY starting without you."

"Don't worry," Jim assured him. "I remember how fucking cold this floor is." Fraser cocked an inquiring eye at him. "Thanksgiving. You should SEE what Blair can do with a celery stick. I never should have let him eat those oysters I had for the stuffing. And speaking of stuffing..." He quickly turned Fraser around and pressed up against his ass.

Fraser groaned as he felt the prod of Jim's hard on against his buttocks. Ellison slid his hands down to cup the Mountie's own erection through the cloth of the sweat pants, rubbing. "Ya know, Frase, I'm tempted to just do it right here. We're the right height for each other. Whenever I do it standing up with Blair, I get cramps from having to bend so much. It's either that, or he'd have to stand on a box, and I'd be worried about fucking him off it and hurting him."

"As hot as this is, Jim, I think I would prefer to be on a nice, soft bed the first time I take a cock up my ass."

Jim growled. "Damn, it's sexy when you talk dirty in that polite voice. Okay, let's go join the boys."

As they made their way to the loft, Fraser said, "You know, I had always heard that travel broadened one's horizons, but I never dreamed..."

Part 15

Jim retrieved a pair of briefs on the stairs. "Must be Stanley's. Blair has been going commando lately."

Benton smiled in fond recollection. "I know."

They found an assortment of garments scattered around the loft floor, and the other two men on the bed, naked, kissing, and involved in a rather complicated tangle. "Guess Blair wasn't kidding about starting without us."

Ellison and Fraser both looked at the laundry on the floor, looked at each other, and sighed in stereo, then began to pick it up. They heard Blair say, "See, Stanley? I toldya. You owe me five bucks."

"Fraser, you galoot, you just cost me a fin. Leave the rags alone and get over here."

"You could have just as easily deposited your clothes on the dresser, Ray." Fraser chided, pulling his sweatshirt over his head and doing exactly that.

"Sandburg probably corrupted him, Benny," Jim replied, doing the same.

Both of the smaller men on the bed stopped what they were doing In order to enjoy the spectacle of Ben and Jim stripping. Stanley gave a long, low wolf whistle, and Blair leered, "Hubba, hubba!"

Jim shook his head as he skinned off his pants. "Got us a coupla comedians, Benny."

Fraser mirrored his actions, and both of the men were naked. "Well, Jim, do you suppose that they would appreciate a good, hard tickling?"

Stanley and Blair stopped grinning, and looked at each other quickly with more than a little apprehension. Now the Sentinel grinned. "I don't know about Stanley, but Blair appreciates ANYTHING good and hard."

They both pounced. It was a damn good thing that Jim and Blair had bought a very sturdy bed. There was close to six hundred total pounds of very solid male flesh thrashing about on it, and it
scarcely creaked. Though it DID thump against the wall rather loudly.

Fraser and Jim were ruthless. Their hands darted everywhere, goosing and tickling unmercifully. Stanley and Blair were quickly reduced to heaps of quivering, breathless giggles. Finally Stanley
howled, "MERCY! Oh, my ribs!", and Jim relented.

But Fraser kept after Blair, dragging the anthropologist back whenever he tried to crawl out of reach and continuing the tickle assault. Blair gasped, "Benny, PLEASE!"

"Say uncle."

"UNCLE, UNCLE, UNCLE! I'll call you Daddy, if you'll just SSSSSTOP!"

"Since you asked so nicely." Benton made one more run up the ribs, then turned Blair over and smacked him on the ass. "Go play with Stanley. Jim and I have things to attend to."

Still laughing weakly, Blair crawled over and collapsed on Stanley. "I don't know about you, man, but I gotta catch my breath."

Stanley hugged him. "`sokay by me. We're gonna have a nice floorshow here in a minute, I think."

Benny was kneeling up on the mattress, and Jim crawled over to kneel up before him. "Hello."

Fraser smiled. "Hello, yourself."

Then they more or less fell on each other. It wasn't quite a wrestling match, but it came close. Jim managed to push Fraser back and get on top of him. The Mountie countered by wrapping his legs around the dark haired man's waist and rolling them over so that HE was above. All the while they were trying to devour each other's mouths, licking, kissing, and nipping. When Jim rolled them over again, he miscalculated available space.

There was an impressive thump as they both hit the floor. Laughter floated up, and the two men left on the bed looked at each other. Blair said wryly, "When tops collide."

Stan yelled, "Benny! Get your butt back on the bed. Ellison, don't you DARE pop his cherry unless I get to watch."

"C'mon, Ben. Unhook so we can stand up. You'll be a LOT more comfortable on the bed. Besides, I can't reach the lube and condoms from here."

"They could always pass them down."

"Benny..."

"Oh, very well."

Jim stood up, and helped Benton to his feet. The second he got him upright, they went into another clinch. Jim grabbed Fraser's ass, massaging the firm cheeks, and dragged him tight against his body. Both men had been semi-hard by the time they got their clothes off. The recent play had brought them to full erection, and their cocks rubbed together between their bodies.

Stanley was watching avidly. He said, "I wanna get Benny ready. Bring him over here, Jim."

Jim tumbled them both onto the mattress, and maneuvered till he was lying under Fraser. His hands fastened on the smooth globes of Fraser's buttocks, and he spread them. "Go on, Stan. Open him up for me."

Blair watched as Stanley took the lubricant, and coated his fingers with it, considerately warming it. He lovingly stroked the crease all the way down, spreading a generous film of lubricant. Benton sighed, and spread his legs to give his partner better access. He laid his head on Jim's chest, eyes half closing. "That feels very nice, Ray."

"It's gonna feel a lot better, Benny, I promise." He massaged strongly, working around the tight ring of flesh that guarded the entrance to Benton's body. "You just hang on to Jim now. I'm gonna slip one finger in."

Fraser gripped Jim's shoulders as his partner slowly slid his greased finger into his anal passage, and began moving it in and out. "Oh my," he whispered.

Blair scooted over to watch. "Can I go get the camera?"

"No." Jim said.

"Now wait a minute, Jim," objected Fraser.

"I think I'd kinda like to have this immortalized, personally," said Stanley.

Jim shook his head. "Alright, you perverts. But make sure it's the Polaroid, Blair. No negatives." Blair made a noise that wasn't quite a squeal and hopped off the bed. In a moment he was back, and moved in close.

"I'd say look happy, but that is so TOTALLY unnecessary." Blair occasionally snapped pictures while Stanley worked a second finger into the Mountie's ass, and began scissoring them to spread the flesh.

"Stanley, do you think you could touch my prostate? Blair really seemed to enjoy that.'

''Well, I'll try, buddy. But you gotta remember, my hands are smaller than yours. I'm gonna have to PUSH.''

''That will be fine.''

Stanley took a breath, and cautiously increased pressure. he rotated his hand, and groped upward. Benny stiffened, eyes flying wide open, and gasped. ''Oh, my! Blair, I can understand your reaction now. It is quite...intense. Please do that again, Ray.''

''Happy to.'' He dug deeply.

Benton yelped, and jerked his hips frantically against Jim. ''Okay, I think it's time. Pull out, Stan.''

Stanley did, and once again the couple rolled over, this time staying on the bed. Jim picked up Fraser's legs and draped them over his shoulders, moving into position.

Blair snapped another picture, and said, ''Blessed Protector, don't forget the blessed protection, okay?"

"Shit. Hand me a rubber, somebody, quick!"

"Lemme." Stanley tore open the prophylactic, and rolled it down over Jim's weeping cock, then gave it a little pat. "Take good care of my baby, Ellison."

"Will do." He looked down at Fraser. "You ready for this, Benny?"

"Yes, Jim. Very much so."

"Good. Cause I may not be able to be quite as patient and gentle as I'd like."

"I am far from fragile."

"Yeah. Okay, then." Jim reached down and carefully fitted himself in place, nudging so that the very tip of his latex clad cock head pressed against the little pucker. He held himself steady, knowing that he was going to have to push harder than he had initially with Stanley. Fraser was completely virgin territory. Aside from a few required medical probes, nothing and no one had ever plumbed that delectable ass. "Slow or fast, Benny?"

"You choose."

Jim laughed, a little breathlessly. "That's right. Put all the responsibility on me. Okay, fast AND slow." Jim pushed steadily. The tight ring spread gradually, and finally his glans eased past it, and it snugged around him. Ben had a surprised look on his face, but didn't seem to be in pain. "How's it going?"

"You're extremely hot, Jim. Both in temperature, and sexually."

"Whoo! You got him using contractions, Jim!" Blair exulted.

"Okay, now I'm not worried about him having a good time," Stanley said, relieved.

"Kodak moment!" Blair snapped a picture.

Jim pushed slowly, sliding in an inch at a time, till he was half buried. "Still okay, Frase?"

"Ummmmmmm..." It was a purr.

"Now comes the quick part." Jim gathered himself, and lunged, hard. His cock head rubbed over Fraser's prostate, wringing a yell from the Canadian, and he didn't stop till he was buried full length in the incredibly tight, hot passage. He threw his head back, gritting his teeth, willing himself not to cum right away.

They were both panting, Jim's breath hissing through clenched teeth. His eyes were half closed, and Blair knew he was on the edge of a zone out from the intense sensations. He knew his duties as a Guide, lover, and friend, and immediately started talking to him, "Jim, hang on, babe. Focus, don't let go." He rubbed his back. "C'mon, man. Do it for yourself and for Fraser. You can feel his pulse can't you? All around you? Focus on that, Jim, the beat of his heart. You can do it."

While Blair whispered to his Sentinel, Stanley bent over Fraser, gently caressing his suddenly sweaty face. "You okay, baby?" He murmured.

"Yes, Ray."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Oh, Ray..."

"I know." He kissed Benton.

"Ray," Fraser's voice was small, "You have to promise me..."

"What, babe?"

"You...have to promise me that YOU'LL do this to me...some day."

Stanley kissed him again. "Oh, yeah. Never doubt that."

Jim was nodding to Blair, indicating that he had pulled himself back and was prepared to continue. Blair leaned down and licked Benny's nipples in a friendly, congratulatory gesture. "Alright, Benny! You're butt is now officially open for business. Are you rrrready to rrrrumble?"

Blank look. "What?"

Stan sighed. "Beautiful, but unaware of the finer aspects of American culture."

Jim, who had quite enough of talk, thank you VERY much, started to move. He slid in and out with shallow strokes, only pulling back half way each time so that Fraser would not have to readjust every time he reinserted.

Fraser didn't zone, but he probably came as close to it as it was possible for a non-sentinel to get. His eyes unfocused. He began to try to lift himself up to meet Jim's thrusts. Stanley and Blair watched for a moment longer. Blair cocked his head, hearing a low thrumming sound, and poked Stanley, "He hums!"

"Yeah, first time I've heard that. I'm lookin' forward to it."

Blair picked up the lubricant and squeezed some onto his fingers, then reached behind and began to prepare himself. "This won't take but a minute, Stan. I have GOT to get you inside me. Those two have me hotter than a half screwed fox in a forest fire."

Stan watched as Blair's fingers stroked in and out of his ass hole, and squeezed his own dick. "You ain't gettin' any protest from me, teach."

Blair had a look of intent concentration on his face as he worked at loosening himself up. He wanted to be loose enough to avoid most of the pain, but tight enough for maximum friction for both of them. He was trying to judge by comparing Stanley and Jim's equipment.

Finally he settled on his hands and knees, legs spread. "Okay, Vecchio. Make like an Italian Stallion and mount up."

"Ready to ride, pony boy." He reached up and tugged at the curtain of hair falling over Blair's shoulders. "Even got a mane."

"Whinny. Get going."

"Hang on, hang on. Can't go in bareback." Stanley was fitting on a condom.

"Shit, we've got more double entendre here than a Bogie and Bacall movie."

"Yeah, they probably did it doggy style. I bet Humphrey was a real stud."

"Well, he wasn't really tall, ya know, and short guys are notoriously virile."

Between grunts, Jim said, "I'm getting you for that later, Sandburg."

"Promises, promiSES!" The last syllable was a squeak as Stanley slammed home. He lunged against Blair, driving his hard on deep into the tight heat. "Ooooooh, Stanley!"

"Like that?"

"LUUUUUV that. More."

"Shit, babe that's all I got." He sounded amused.

"Well, you don't intend to just LEAVE it in there, do you? Move."

"Giddyap." Stanley started to thrust.

For awhile there was no more conversation. Everyone was concentrating. There was only the sound of harsh breaths, grunts, moans, and the meaty slap of damp flesh coming together.

Ellison had increased the depths of his strokes till he was now pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. This brought his cock head over Fraser's prostate with increasing frequency, and Benton was jerking helplessly with each jolt of pleasure. Jim reached down to jerk him off. But before he could grasp Fraser's quivering prick, the writhing man came, his sperm jetting strongly to coat his belly. The sight of the beautiful man cumming without a hand being laid on his cock sent Jim over the edge in a howling frenzy, hips moving in almost a blur. He tried to brace his feet as he came, shoving forward frantically. It was a good thing his feet slid on the sheets, or Fraser would have gotten his head knocked against the headboard.

Jim eased Fraser's legs off his shoulders, letting his cock slip out. He gently massaged the Mountie's thighs, to be sure there were no cramps. Touched by this consideration, Benton leaned up to kiss him, then stripped off the now heavy condom and deposited it in the bed side wastebasket. He and Jim snuggled into each other's arms, and turned their attention to the pair on the other side of the bed. It was their turn for a show.

Stanley, kneeling behind Blair, was fucking him with strong, short jabs. Blair's head was down, hair hanging in his face as he panted and pushed back to meet each lunge with enthusiasm. Ben looked at Jim, smiling, and said, "Aren't they cute?"

"Adorable."

Blair was bracing himself with one hand, masturbating with the other. After a moment, Jim whispered to Benton, who nodded. Jim got off the bed and walked around to the other side while Benny crawled closer to the copulating couple.

Jim took hold of Blair around the shoulders. "Kneel up, Chief." When Blair obeyed, rearing up on his knees, Jim said, "Stanley, wrap your arms around him and help him stay up while you fuck him." Stanley tucked his arms around Blair, holding him securely about the waist.

Then Jim proceeded to lavish Blair's nipples with licks and nips. Blair moaned, wiggling and twisting in appreciation as the little buds seemed to swell even tighter, reddening under Jim's erotic assault. Meantime, Jim slipped his hand back behind him and began giving Stanley thorough manual stimulation, stroking and pinching till he was echoing Blair's delighted sounds.

Just when Blair thought there was no way on Earth it could get any better, and he would probably die if it did, Benton Fraser bent down and took his weeping cock into the hot, wet depths of his mouth and started sucking him off.

"That's it!" Blair panted. "Take me now, Lord! It can't get any better than this. This is how I want to go out."

Jim paused in his licking long enough to say, "Shut up, Chief.", then resumed, scraping the sensitive flesh lightly with the edge of his teeth.

Under such an erotic assault, Blair couldn't last long. In moments he was shoving at Benny, fucking into his mouth as his cream exploded. Blair was too breathless to scream. All that came out was a soft exhalation. The clenching of his anal passage was all it took to trigger Stanley's orgasm, and he swayed with it's power. Both he and Blair would have toppled over if their partners hadn't taken hold of them and gently lowered them to the mattress. It was Jim who
removed the used condom this time.

Benton and Jim herded the two spent men into the center of the bed and climbed in on either side of them. The fit was snug, but with a little spooning, possible. Even comfortable. Blair and Stanley lay facing each other, with their respective partners molded to their backs. Jim made Blair tuck his hair under his head before he drifted off. "I love you, Chief, but that waking up with hair in my mouth thing..."

"There are other sorts of hair you aren't as picky about getting in your face..."

"Shut up, smart ass. Go to sleep."

Ray tipped his head back to kiss Benton. "G'night, Canuck."

"Good night, Ray. Sweet dreams."

"Oh, yeah."

Part 16: Free Day

Jim woke up with hair in his mouth anyway. He spit it out without waking up his Guide, mentally resigning himself. *If I want the bod, and the mind, and the heart, I take the hair, too. Besides...* He softly petted Blair's loose curls, and his lover purred in his sleep. *It IS sexy as hell.*

He sat up carefully, and noticed that there were only three bodies in the bed right now. Blair and Stan were still snoring in gentle two part harmony, but Benton was nowhere in sight.

Jim cocked his head, and dialed up his hearing. Well, he hardly needed to bother. The sound of the shower downstairs was pretty clear. And, as he listened, it was joined by a clear, quiet baritone voice singing "Oh, Canada." Jim couldn't help grinning.

He eased out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and made his way down to the kitchen. It was Saturday, he and Blair did not have to go in, and he was in the mood for a completely bad for you treat that he hadn't had in a long, long time.

In the kitchen, he half filled a deep pot with oil, and let it heat, preparing a paper towel lined platter. He also located a small paper bag, put a couple of scoops of sugar in it, and added a liberal dusting of cinnamon. After a moment's though, he added a pinch of ground cloves, too, closed the bag, and shook it to stir the mixture.

Then he opened the refrigerator and located two cans of biscuits. He stripped the paper off them, and rapped each tube sharply on the edge of the counter, being careful to hit the line scored in a spiral up the cardboard tube. The cardboard split along the line neatly each time, and Jim extracted the pale, slightly sticky disks of biscuit dough.

He pinched a tiny glob off one, and dropped it in the shimmering grease. It sizzled, and floated almost immediately to the surface, puffing and beginning to brown. Nodding in satisfaction, he used his thumb to poke a hole in the biscuit, then stretched it out into a ring, and eased it into the fat.

Like the blob before it, it rose to the surface, bubbles breaking all around it, and began to puff and brown. Jim repeated the process with another biscuit, then turned the first one. By the time it was done, it was time to turn the second. He did, scooping out the first and setting it to drain, quickly prepared another biscuit, and eased it into the fat. He wouldn't do more than two at a time. Otherwise the temperature of the grease might drop, and the donuts would take to long to cook, getting rubbery.

He quickly picked up the still first donut, dropped it in the sack of flavored sugar, and gave it a brisk shake before returning it to the platter. By that time he had to remove the second donut, turn the third, and start preparing the fourth. He was very busy for awhile.

Benton, freshly scrubbed, followed the delicious, yeasty aroma into the kitchen. He paused at the entrance, watching the big Cascade policeman quickly and efficiently turning out fried pastry. He came farther into the room. "What are those, Jim? They smell fantastic."

Jim glanced around, and did a double take. "Benny, stay right where you are. I wouldn't advice coming anywhere NEAR a deep fryer while you're naked."

"Oh, of course." Benton took a step backward. "But what ARE those?"

"Just canned biscuit donuts."

"Canned...?"

"You know, the canned kind you get in the cold section of the store? All you do is poke a hole in `em and fry." He demonstrated. "See?"

"Why, that is ingenious!"

"You're mom never made them for you?"

"My mother died when I was very young, Jim. My grandmother did not favor any sort of food that could be remotely classified as `junk'. She believed heartily in bran."

Jim groaned. "Oh, Benny! You had a deprived childhood. Look, go get dressed, wouldya? You're distracting me, and I don't want to burn the donuts."

Fraser went back up to the loft in search of his clothes. When he arrived, both Blair and Stanley were sitting up and yawning. And sniffing. Blair groaned. "Oh, man. Jim must be in a good mood. He's frying donuts. I'm gonna gain a ton before you guys leave. I'll have to eat nothing but rabbit food for a week in penance."

Stanley was off the bed, getting dressed. "Donuts, you said? Fresh donuts?"

"Like that idea, huh?"

"It will be a struggle not to just jump over the rail in order to get to them more quickly." Stanley pattered down the stairs. A moment later they could hear loud, happy groans from the kitchen.

Benny remarked, "Ray loves donuts almost as much as Diefenbaker."

Blair gave him a mischievous look. "How do you know that's from food? Maybe he and Jim are getting it on again?"

"Because," Benny smiled. "Jim would not allow him around the deep fat frier in an unclothed state."

"Hm. Well, it's gonna happen again before you two leave. Stanley told me Jim promised he could fuck him if he'd get shaved."

Benny's eyes went round. "Oh my. What a mental image."

"Yeah." Blair got up and started dressing. "Doesn't happen often, but DEFINITELY an event not to be missed."

When they got downstairs, the donuts were finished, sitting in a steaming, fragrant pile, and Jim and Stanley were placidly munching away. Stanley said, "Yo, Mountie. Jim says you can make these jelly donuts if you have a pastry bag. Wouldn't Dief..."

"Ray, I forbid you to mention this to Diefenbaker. I would never again have a moment's peace, and he would soon approach St. Bernard size."

Blair, who showed a remarkable capacity for junk food, despite the amount of sprouts and tofu he was constantly trying to push on Jim, was already on his second donut. "Should we keep the watch on Solly today, or do you think it would be safe to leave him to hospital security?"

They all considered. Finally Benton said slowly, "Of course, Kol could not have contacted Mr. Bernie to inform him of his failure. But..."

Stanley nodded, completing his partners thought, as Jim and Blair sometimes did with each other, "We got no way of knowing if Pavel not contacting him isn't some sort of signal in itself. I say we need to keep someone there. If the Cascade force can't spare the manpower, we can camp out again, I guess."

"That shouldn't be necessary," Jim offered. "Our PR department shouldn't be too hard to convince that this would look good with the public. Plus the fact that we'll get a little credit for helping with whatever Solly turns for you guys."

"Good." Blair continued. "Then unless things go kaflooie, we have the day, cause I'd be major surprised if they'd agree to let Solly go before tomorrow, what with all he's been through in the last 48 hours."

"So, what do we do today?" Stan polished off a glass of milk, leaving a white rim over his upper lip. He started to wipe it on his sleeve, but Benton gently caught his arm, leaned over, and licked it away. The cleansing turned into a prolonged kiss, involving a couple of very nimble tongues. When Fraser sat back, Stan said breathlessly, "Yeah, that's okay with me."

"There are no classes at the university today. I promised Benny I'd show him the anthro collection at the library."

Stan looked a little disappointed, sighing. "Yeah, that would be cool. We should all go check on Solly first."

As they were getting ready to go, Jim whispered to Stanley, "Don't be so down in the mouth. I know Blair. One of his kinks is doing it in unusual places, and there are A LOT of deserted rooms on campus." Stanley perked up considerably.

A pretty, sour faced nurse was stalking out of Solly's room when they arrived, and they could hear a dirty giggle from the room's occupant. "Oh my," said Benton. "Has Solly been up to mischief again?"

The nurse paused, hands on hips. "I was in the Navy. If that guy's hands had been free, it woulda been like Tailhook in there. I'm not surprised someone tried to poison him."

Fraser said, "Has his doctor indicated when he might be released for transport back to Chicago?"

"Yeah. You can have the turkey tomorrow morning, any time after nine. Do us all a favor and synchronize your watches so you don't waste a nanosecond." She left, muttering under her breath, something about putting a bed pan in the freezer for later.

They entered, and Jim said, "Solly, what have you been doing?"

Solly, looking remarkably chipper for someone who had just come through a near death experience, grinned. "Bite me."

Blair sighed, getting between his Sentinel and the bed. "Solly, you REALLY don't want to say that to Jim. Trust me on this."

Solly shrugged, as best he could. "Aye, did I have a visitor yesterday? Dere's a `Get Well' card anna Mars bar onda nightstand. Dat bitch wudden lemme have dat candy."

"Those were from my marshmallow hearted partner," said Stanley. "But you DID have a visitor from Chicago yesterday, Solly. You don't remember?"

Solly frowned. "Nah. Dat wuz some pretty good shit dey gave me. If my gut din' hurt so bad, I'd wish I had annuder `pendix for `em ta yank."

"Mm. Well, yah see this particular little hole in your arm right here, Solly?" Stan touched the bruised place on the inside of Solly's forearm. "THAT little calling card was from your other visitor."

Solly peered at the discolored spot, puzzled. "What da hell is dat for? Somebody pinch me? Who did dat?"

Are you familiar with the name Pavel Kol?" Fraser asked. "Oh, my! That is the most alarming shade of green! Blair, he looks even worse than you did when Stanley talked about..."

"YEAH. Yeah, Benny. Don't remind `im, huh? Last thing we need is having `im whoops his cookies again."

Blair sounded indignant. "I'm not THAT delicate."

Jim pinched his ass. "Oh, my little passion flower?"

Blair pushed his hand away, giving him a smouldering, but wry look, growling, "Don't get me started, Sentinel."

"Look," Solly whined. "You gotta do somethin'. That motherfucker is serious business. I'm jus' a little cheese, why da hell did Uncle Bernie send dat big ass rat after me?"

"Oh, come on, Solly," chided Stanley. "Because he's more scared of us and the feds than he is of your mom."

Solly looked doubtful. "I dunno. Mom is pretty fuckin' scary. She t'reatend ta kneecap `im if he kep' screwin' aroun' on Aunt Betty."

"Look, all you have to do is co-operate when you get back to Chicago. And Solly? I'd really, really consider it. `Cause if Kol sings like I THINK he will, they might decide they don't need you. Then your butt is in the pen for a loooooong time."

Solly's previously pale face flushed. "Dey can't do dat! I gots a constipational right ta rat out my fam'ly."

Jim checked his watch. "Speaking of constipation, though I almost wish I could be outside this room when the nurse brings that bed pan, we ought to get going. Consider carefully, Solly."

As they trooped out, they passed the nurse, who was entering with a metal bedpan in hand and a wicked smile on her face.

Down at the elevator, Benton said, "You know, I am intimately acquainted with cold weather phenomena. If I didn't KNOW it was impossible, I would swear that I saw frost on that bedpan."

As he finished speaking, there was a sudden shriek from down the hall, and the unmistakable sound of feminine laughter. Jim, whistling and gazing at the ceiling to avoid having a major giggle fit at the look on the Mountie's face (like Blair and Stanley), punched the `down' button.

Part 17

"It's not that I'm anti education," Stanley explained. "Heck, I take criminal justice courses, and modern history is way interesting, buuuuut..."

"But you don't view it as a recreational activity." They were in the cab of the truck. Jim was filling the tank, and Benton was stretching his legs.

"Um, yeah." Stanley looked sheepish. "But I know Benny is interested in that tribal stuff you keep taking about, so it's alright with me."

Blair grinned, reaching over to stroke Stanley's hair. "Oooh, it isn't all dry stuffiness at the U. Correct me if I'm wrong, here. Jim sort of coerced you into that barbering session, didn't he?"

Stanley grimaced wryly. "Yeah. I got into it, but that dude is PERSISTANT."

"You're telling me? And I believe I heard that he'd also promised you a go at that hard ass of his."

Stan grinned. "Oh, yeah."

"Stanley, do you believe in payback?"

Stanley's eyes danced. "Ooooh, yeah!"

"Then I have a little suggestion as to how we ALL might benifit from your go round." Mindful of Sentinel hearing, even if Jim WAS concentrating on Fraser's butt at the moment, Blair leaned close to Stanley and started whispering. Stanley listened intently, and the grin spread to shit-eating proportions.

"Kewl. You'll set it up?"

Blair nodded. "There isn't much to do, so it won't take but a minute. The anthro building is right next to the library. I'll just say I need to check something in my office, and you guys should go in to the library. Once we've been in a few minutes, make your excuses. You shouldn't have any trouble leading him out. When you're done, just come on back."

Stanley started humming the theme from 'Mission: Impossible'. Blair smiled. "Yeah, I always wanted to see the Tom Cruise character get it on with the Dougray Scott character. Face it, there was WAY too much tension between them for it to be strictly rivalry. I say he was with Nya on the rebound from Ethan."

"Works for me. The henchman wasn't bad, either."

"Or the pilot."

"The computer expert. We're a couple a sluts. You know that, don't you?"

"Sluts have more fun."

"Can't argue with that."

As soon as they pulled into the university library parking lot, Blair hopped out and headed for the anthropology building. "Be right with ya!" he called back over his shoulder. "Jim, go on and take them to the first floor display cases."

Jim grumbled something about Blair neglecting his duties as a host, but led the two visitors into the library. Benton was eyeing Stanley curiously. "Stanley, I believe I recognize that expression. What are you up to?"

"You'll find out."

Benny sighed. "Am I going to be pleased, or appalled?"

"Well, up until yesterday, I'd have said appalled. Now, I think not."

"Interesting."

"Very. If I decide to lure Ellison off, don't come along, okay?"

"Ah."

"Man, Benny, you can say more with one syllable than most people can in six or seven complete complex sentences."

Benton was soon absorbed in arrow heads and pottery shards. Blair returned to them in a few moments. He caught Stanley's eye, and circled his thumb and forefinger in the 'okay' sign. Stanley pretended interest in some of the clay beads, then said casually, "Ellison, you know your way around this place right? Come show me some of the sights while Blair and Benny natter about this stuff."

Jim lifted his eyebrows, but left with Stanley when Blair and Fraser assured him they would be fine on their own. Once outside, Jim said, "What sort of sights do you want to see, Vecchio?"

"The same sort you can see in life study classes in art. C'mon." He led Jim to the anthropology building.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but this ISN'T the art building, and even if it was, they don't have any classes today..."

"Perfect. No, it's just that if THIS university is anything like any of the OTHER campuses I've ever been on, I should find...Yeah."

He opened one of two doors set close together, and waved Jim before him, into the room. Jim stood, looking around. It was tiny. The only furniture was two sturdy chairs and a heavy table. And, on one wall, there was a large mirror. "Observation room." He pointed at the mirror. "Two way, so the observers can look in."

"Yeah. Just a second." Stanley disappeared. Jim heard another door open, then close, and he was back. "I checked. No one in there. So Ellison, what ELSE does this room remind you of?" Jim shook his head. "Doesn't remind you of certain interrogation rooms?"

"Yeah, come to think of it, it does."

Stanley stepped into the room, closing and locking the door. "You know about good cop, bad cop, right?"

"Who doesn't?"

Stanley's expression was suddenly cold. "Well, smart ass, meet bad cop." He pointed at a chair. "Siddown, punk."

Jim didn't smile, but he was grinning inside. He loved role playing, and he didn't get to play the more helpless role all that often. He crossed his arms, staring at Stanley coolly. "You ain't read me my rights, cop."

"You have the RIGHT to do like I say, if you don't want my foot up your tight ass, boy. NOW SIT!"

*Oh, he's good! I'm gonna ENJOY this.* Jim slumped in the chair, radiating contempt. He could do that very well. He'd gone undercover as a male prostitute in vice, and he had the street whore's attitude DOWN. Sullen, and wary.

Stanley paced around him. "This is the sixth time you've been busted for soliciting, Ellison. SIX! I've told you before, peddle your mouth and your ass if you want to, but not on MY turf. I have to deal with enough shit from the higher ups as it is."

"How the hell was I s'posed to know that john was a cop? Are'nt you bastards s'posed to have dress regulations, or something? I mean, his fucking hair was over his shoulders."

"Watch your mouth about Detective Sandburg, punk. He's a good cop."

"Yeah? Well, he sure was enjoyin' my hand on his dick before he slapped the cuffs on me."

Stanley leaned over Jim. "Who said cops can't enjoy that?"

Jim acted confused. "What? I don't get you?"

"Who said a cop can't appreciate a skilled hand, or a hot mouth, or a juicy ass? What I'm talkin' about HERE, Ellison, is your compulsion to strut you wares where you shouldn't. There are clubs. There are bars. I don't want you on my corner."

Jim shifted. He was starting to get hard. And, where he was standing, Stanley's crotch was close to his eye level, and he could tell that the Chicago cop was aroused, too.

"Well, fuck. Excuse me all the hell for littering up your turf. So you're saying I can sell it as long as I don't do it in the streets and scare the horses?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you meant it."

"It's no use talking to you. Maybe six months inside will take some of the starch out of you."

"No, wait! Shit, I don't wanna go back inside!"

"Why should I let you off?"

"Aw, crap. I'll be good, Vecchio, okay? I'll stay out of the streets. I'll work with one of the escort services, I know I can get on."

"That's all in the future. Promises. What can you do NOW to show me that you mean it?"

Jim looked up at him, eyes going sultry. He licked his lips slowly, "What do you WANT me to do for you, Vecchio?"

Stanley silently opened his pants, and took out his cock. He was already fully aroused. As Jim looked, a crystal bead of pre cum oozed from the pee slit on his rosy cock head, quivered for a second, then slid down. Another started to form. Jim licked his lips again. "You can suck that, then take it up your ass. That's what you can do."

"I don't have any lube or rubbers."

"I do. Quit stalling and lick it."

With a show of reluctance, Jim leaned forward, put out his tongue, and barely touched it to Stanley's glans, delicately captureing the second drop of fluid before it could slide down. Stanley shivered. "More, bitch."

Jim bared his teeth at him, then began lapping. He swirled his tongue over the heated, swollen flesh, moving from the tip, down the shaft to his balls, and back again.

Stanley enjoyed the attentions for a couple of minutes. "You're good at that, Jim. You deserve you're reputation as a champion dick licker. But I said SUCK it. Get it in your mouth, and I want deep throat."

"Fuck, you're kinda big for that, Vecchio."

"I have confidence in you."

Jim was starting to breath heavier. He growled, "I'll give you this, Vecchio. You got nerve, letting your prick come this close to my teeth."

"Let's be clear on something. If I bleed, you bleed. And A LOT more than I will. Now suck me."

Keeping his eyes fixed on Stanley's face, he bent forward and took just the head into his mouth, and began sucking. Just that for a little while, like it was a lollipop. When Stanley started to push deeper, Jim pulled back, releasing him with a wet smack.

Stanley cursed, and grabbed his head. "I said SUCK, dammit!" This time he pushed in strongly. Two thirds of his cock sank in smoothly before he was obstructed, and Jim made a little choking noise. Stanley pulled back, just a little.

He leaned down and spoke in Jim's ear. "Listen, cunt. You're going to take ALL of it. First in your mouth, then up that pretty white ass. Now, you can either relax and enjoy it, or choke. Frankly, I don't care. I can get off either way."

Jim put his hands on Stanley's hips and pushed him back, managing to get his mouth free, despite the painful grip in his hair. Stanley wasn't easing up. He was playing this, you should pardon the expression, to the hilt. Jim was so hot he could hardly stand it.

He panted, "Christ, gimme a minute. Wait...let me concentrate. I need to relax the throat muscles..."

"Don't talk about it, DO IT!"

"Alright, alright!"

Jim took a couple of deep, calming breaths, and concentrated on relaxing his throat muscles. The meditation techniques Blair had taught him had uses that the yogis who'd developed them probably hadn't imagined.

This time when he took Vecchio into his mouth, he sank smoothly down till he had engulfed him entirely. He sucked as best he could *though I could get stronger suction on a smaller section*, and growled.

"FUCK!" Stanley cried.

Jim started to bob on his erection, taking him in fully every three or four strokes. Stanley had grabbed his shoulders for support, and made small thrusting motions with his hips. He looked over Jim, and watched their reflection in the two way mirror. And smiled.

Part 18

"Absolutely fascinating, Blair."

"Yeah. It's small, but it's choice."

"I could not agree more."

Blair yelped, and jumped, as Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP goosed him. "Hey!" He backed away, rubbing his behind protectively. "I was talking about the COLLECTION, man."

"That, also."

"Whoa, you certainly have gotten over that repression thing quickly."

"You have created a monster."

"Nah. Unleashed, maybe, not created. I can't possibly take credit for you. All the glory goes to Stanley."

Benny smiled fondly. "Yes, that would be a fair assumption. By the way, Blair, do you happen to know what it is Stanley had in store for Jim? He was looking inordinately pleased with himself when they left."

Blair spread the fingers of one hand on his chest, eyes wide and innocent. "You don't think we were PLOTTING anything, do you?"

"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that it might spoil my chances of getting to have sex with you again."

"Not likely. C'mon, you've seen everything worth seeing here. Let's go to the anthro building. I'll show you one of the lecture halls. They keep them locked on the weekends, but I have a key."

Benton followed along. He pretty much figured that a lecture room was a lecture room was a lecture room, but if it made Blair happy...

It was a big one, able to seat a couple of hundred students at a time. They came in at the top, and Blair locked the door behind them, then bounded down the slanted aisle to the lecture area in front. "Pick a seat!"

"Oh. Um. All right." Benton made his way about two thirds down, then chose a seat in the center section, on the aisle.

Blair was writing on the chalk board that ran across the front of the room. "Pull your desk up, man. You're in class."

"I AM?"

"You are." Blair had sritten PROFESSOR SANDBURG in large, scrawling letters.

Benny flipped the little desk attached to the arm of the seat up and over his lap, resting his arms across it. A bit crowded, but possible.

Blair laid aside the chalk, and began to pace the front of the room, giving a lecture on the comparative courting rituals of primative societies. Benny rested his chin in his hands, eyes following the compact figure as he strode back and forth. It wasn't what he had been hoping for, but it was interesting. Blair was never LESS than interesting...

"...Mr. Fraser?"

Benton blinked. "Um. I'm sorry, Blair..." A scowl, and a finger pointed to the black board. "Professor Sandburg." Fraser felt a little tingle. "I'm afraid I wasn't listening very closely."

"Well, that is just plain RUDE, Mr. Fraser." Blair's voice held a snappish tone Benton had never heard before, and he suspected that very few OTHER people had heard it. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the RCMP is paying your way through this university, is it not?"

"Uh...yes, sir. Full scholarship."

"It hardly seems to me like they're getting their money's worth. I've seen your previous work. You're obviously very bright, but you don't APPLY yourself." He sighed gustily. "Come down here."

Fraser struggled out of his chair, and came down the aisle. Blair picked up a piece of paper off the desk and handed it to him. "Explain this to me."

It was blank. "Uhh..."

"Yes, uh. That is a HORRIBLE grade, Mr. Fraiser. Did you study at ALL?"

"Things have been...difficult, sir."

"There are no excuses for slackness like that. I haven't recorded that yet. Do you know what will happen when I do?" Benton shook his head. Blair arched his eyebrows. "You'll be back wherever it was you came from, Mr. Fraser. Relegated to a back office job for whatever pitiful span of 'career' you have. They aren't going to let this slide." He took the paper back.

"Please, sir, do you have to record it? Couldn't I take the test again?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I have to record it. And I don't DO retests when simple laziness is the excuse."

"It wasn't that, sir, I swear. Couldn't I perhaps do some extra credit work to bring the grade up to an acceptable level?"

Blair scratched his chin, eyeing Fraiser. He let his eyes slide down the long, well muscled body thoughtfully, then slowly laid the paper on the desk. "I'm not sure. It would have to be a very special project to warrent changing that to a passing grade. What do you suggest?"

Benton lowered his head and said humbly. "I do not know, sir. I...was hoping you might suggest something."

"Mm. Well... Perhaps something having to do with...classic forms of education. What do you know about the teacher/pupil relationship in ancient Greece, Mr. Fraser?"

"Not much, sir."

"Among the nobility, young men were educated by tutors. Older men who guided them and taught them in every aspect of life, not just academics."

"Oh? Like what kinds of things...sir?" Benny put a meek, but suggestive, emphasis on the title.

"Life, social skills, love...sex. I'm assuming you've had sex with a woman, Constable?"

Benton flushed. "Yes, sir."

"Were they satisfied?"

"I...I believe so. They gave every indication..."

He waved away the rest of the words. "What about men?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Men, Fraiser, men. You're not deaf. HAVE you had any sexual experiences with men?"

He whispered. "No, sir."

Blair snorted. "Well, it seems your classical education has been sorely neglected. I suppose if you were to demonstrate a little expertise in that area, I could see my way clear to bringing that mark up to...a C. Perhaps even a B, if you show apptitude and enthusiasm."

"I am eager to study at your feet, sir."

Blair's eyes glittered. "That's not the part of me you'll be studying at, Fraser."

He stepped over to the Mountie, moving up flush against him, reached around, and grabbed his ass with both hands, pulling him close so that their groins bumped. Benton let his eyes go wide, as if he were surprised by the large, warm erection he found grinding again his crotch. "Sir!"

"Do you want this grade or not?" Blair rubbed up against him. He could feel Benny responding, the rapid thickening. "Let me put it this way. I can change that grade with just a few strokes of my pen. All you have to do to get me to do that is be willing to accept a few strokes of a different kind."

Fraser nodded slowly. "Teach me."

Blair slid a hand down the front of Frazer's sweat pants, inside his shorts, and closed his hand around the other man's hard on, pumping lazily. "This isn't going to be an oral lesson, Fraiser. I'm going to demonstrate a...deep teaching method."

"I'm anxious to take it all in, sir."

"Good." Blair unbuttoned his jeans with his other hand, his rhythm never faltering as he pumped his lover's cock. Fraiser was even more turned on when he saw that Blair wasn't wearing underwear again. The young man certainly believed in being stripped for action.

Benton licked his lips as Blair teased his erection out of the tight jeans, then pushed Benton's sweatpants and shorts down his hips. "Get out of those."

Fraiser obeyed. Blair watched with heated eyes, fondling himself. When Benton was naked from the waist down, he said hoarsely, "Play with yourself, Fraiser."

Fraiser blushed. He was much more sexually experienced than he had been when he'd come to Cascade, but he'd never put on a show before. Not unless you counted that spectacular fuck he'd had with Jim, but he'd really just more or less been along for the ride on that. Now he touched himself tentatively. He noticed the clear bead of liquid on his cock head, and smeared it experimentally. The smooth slide was pleasing. He gathered more of the liquid as it oozed out, and used it to slick himself.

Blair masturbated, watching him. "Bend over the desk." he ordered, "But don't stop frigging yourself."

Benny bent over the desk, resting his torso on it. It made his ass jut at a tempting angle. And, even with his long legs, Blair would be able to reach his goal without difficulty. "I have a rubber, but no lube, Fraiser. I'll have to prepare you the old fashioned way. But then, you're the one who believes in tasting things, aren't you?"

Blair pried Benton's buttocks apart, exposing his ass hole. It still looked plenty tight, despite the workout Jim had given it the day before. Blair squatted, his hand working on his own cock, and buried his face in the spread crevice. *Damn, he even tastes fresh here,* Blair thought, lapping at the tiny pucker. Benny groaned, and it flexed. Blair grinned, and intensified his efforts.

The oral stimulation was beginning to make Benton relax. He moaned and muttered to himself as Blair gradually inserted his tongue into Benton's back passage, then began moving it in and out. He thought that if it was indeed possible to die from sheer pleasure, this would be a possibly lethal activity.

"Show me your hand, Fraiser." A little puzzled, Fraiser extended his hand back to Blair. He felt the anthropologist grab his wrist. "Good. You're really slick with your juice." He drew Fraiser's hands back, pressing his fingers to his own ass. "Open yourself up for me, Fraiser."

Without hesitation, Benton plunged one finger deep inside himself. He moaned with the sudden ache, and Blair said sharply, "Don't hurt yourself!" But Fraiser needed this, and wasn't about to slow down. He immediately crammed a second finger in beside the first, working them strongly. "Damn it, Fraiser!" He twisted, and crooked his fingers, shoving hard...

...and found his own prostate.

Fraiser shuddered against the desktop, gasping, and Blair said mildly, "Oh. Well. Never mind, then." As he finished speaking, Fraiser did it again. He bucked on the desk, whimpering, eyes closing. "Shit! I better hurry up, or the pupil will finish the lesson without the teacher."

It took seconds to get the prophylactic from his pocket, open it, and sheath himself. Then he pulled Fraiser's still pumping hand away and moved up into position behind him. "Spread 'em WIDE, Mountie." Fraiser did, using the desk to keep himself balanced. Then, without further preliminaries, Blair slammed into him and began fucking him furiously.

Fraiser yelped. Yes, it hurt just a little, especially since he was still a bit tender from Jim. But it felt GOOD, too. If forced to choose, 'top, or bottom? Can't have both...', Fraiser thought he might very well strangle the person who demanded the choice.

Blair was in heaven. He loved Jim. He loved SEX with Jim. But topping was a fairly rare treat, usually experienced with outside partners. So maybe there was something just a little spicier about it. And he really DIDN'T have a mean side to his nature. But pretending to coerce this luscious man into giving it up was damn hot.

"Does co-operation with the teacher earn extra points?" Fraiser murmured. He began to push back to meet Blair's thrusts.

"Oh, yeeessss." Blair held Benton's waist in order to steady himself while still giving the big man room to move. And move he did. Blair was soon grunting as the tight buttocks slammed back against him.

He was close already. He reached under Fraser, feeling untill he managed to grab his bobbing cock, and began to rub briskly. Fraiser almost bleated with appreciation. His attempts to push forward into Blair's hand, then back onto his prick, almost drove the smaller man crazy. Even if he had wanted to hold back, he wouldn't have been allowed to. There was a time for sweet, gentle, slow, caring sex...but this wasn't it. This was hump-for-all-you're-worth time.

Despite Benny's head start, Blair climaxed first. His sperm filled the end of the condom, oozing back just far enough to make the last few strokes exquisitely slippery-slidey. Blair reached down and under, wiggled a finger up just behind Fraiser's balls, and pressed, tickling.

He hadn't been mistaken. That spot proved to be marvelously sensitive. Benton came with a yell, his spunk coating Blair's nimble fingers. Blair flopped on top of him, pumping Benny as the big man shuddered, the last of his cream jetting in a weaker spurt.

At last Blair pulled free. He located a box of tissues in a desk drawer, and Fraiser and himself cleaned up. Blair carefully wrapped the used condom, and tucked the entire mess into a large manilla envelope he took from another drawer, then depostied it in the wastebasket. "That way we won't gross out the cleaning ladies."

"But Blair, suppose one of them is curious, and looks inside."

"Then maybe they'll learn not to snoop."

"Ah. Well, Professor Sandburg. Did I raise my grade?"

Blair grinned. "Among other things, yeah. Just an A instead of an +A, though. Don't want you to quit trying. Now, let's go find Jim and Stanley. I believe they're around here somewhere..."

Part 19

If Jim Ellison HAD actually decided to make his living as a male whore, Stanley thought as Jim took Stanley's cock down his throat again, he could have probably become a millionaire, selling his services to rich old queens. The dude was GOOD. Jim gave what Stanley thought of as 'top' head: agressive. It really WAS being eaten. The man could make you think that he was starving, and you were the tastiest treat on earth. But...

Stanley grabbed Jim's short hair and pulled, moving back at the same time. His spit slick cock came free with an audible pop. Jim stared up at him, eyes slightly unfocussed, mouth a little swollen, and started to reach for him again. Whoa. He'd gathered a little bit about the Sentinel/Guide thing listening to Blair, and he thought that Ellison, caught up in the heat of the moment, might be about to go into a zone, or else... Well, a little over the edge into something that wasn't play. He had to get him back to reality, or at least a close version of reality.

"ELLISON!" His voice was a whip crack, and Jim winced, his eyes clearing. That had been painful, with Jim's sensitive hearing, but it had been necessary. He was back.

He glared at Stanley with a sullen smoulder. "Why'd you stop me? You ain't cum yet."

"You're right about that, whore. But it ain't your mouth I want for that. Get up and drop your pants."

Jim stood up, pushing back the chair, and unfastened his jeans, pushing them down to his knees. Stanley's fair eyebrows climbed. Blair wasn't the only one who occasionally went commando. "You're such a slut, Ellison."

Jim cocked his hips. His erection waved at Stanley. "That's why I get the big bucks."

Stanley reached out and gripped Jim's cock firmly. Jim tensed. He trusted Stanley, but in a situation like this one they were enacting, when another man grabbed your dick, you got ready to deal with some intense sensations, and just hoped they would be pleasure instead of pain.

He didn't have anything to worry about. Stanley's touch was a little rough, but carefully so. He stroked strongly, milking drops of pre-cum from Jim's pee slit. "But you're MY slut now, aren't you, Ellison?" He squeezed a little harder. "Answer me."

"Yeah," Jim breathed. "I'm your slut. You gonna fuck me, or talk me to death?"

"Watch it. I may decide to fuck you to death."

"You could always try, cop."

"On the table." Jim hoisted himself up to sit at the end of the table, legs dangling. Stanley jerked his jeans the rest of the way off, removing the shoes in the process. All Jim was left with below the waist was his white athletic socks. "Lay back and grab your knees."

Jim obeyed, spreading his legs as he did so. This left him open, and presented to Stanley. The Chicago cop got out a rubber and slipped it on. Then he removed a tube from his pocket and squeezed lubricant onto his fingers. "How much is it gonna take to open you up, Ellison? I mean are you tight, or loosey-goosey? Huh? Need the traditional one finger, two fingers, three fingers, dick, or can I just tickle ya and shove it in?"

Jim squirmed, obviously turned on by Stanley's crudity. "Find out for yourself, you prick."

"I'll just do that little thing." Stanley shoved one finger into Jim with a hard jab. Jim's head snapped back, banging against the table, his face tight. But the grunt he made was more pleasure than pain.

His voice a little strained, Jim said, "You gotta do better than that, Vecchio."

"Oh, you're a tough whore, ain't you?" Stanley worked his finger in Jim roughly. "Want some more? All right." He rammed the second finger in. This time Jim's head thrashed from side to side, and he bared his teeth. One might have thought he was really in pain, if it weren't for the never flagging rigidity of his cock, which had now leaked a puddle of pre-cum on his belly so copious that it was in danger of dripping down his side.

"Like that, don't ya, Ellison? You like having my fingers in your ass. You'll like my cock even more."

"Fuck you."

Stanley pushed hard, twisting his hand, and hit Jim's prostate. The big man arched till all that rested on the table was his ass and the back of his head, making an animal keening sound. "No, fuck YOU, Jim. You think you're bad?" Stanley pulled his hand free, grabbed Jim's ankles, and jerked his legs over his shoulders. "I'll SHOW you bad, baby."

Stan fitted himself against Jim's loosened anus. "I can make tough whore's cum, Jimmy. You're gonna give it up for me." And he slammed into the hot, tight channel, leaning in close over Jim, forcing his knees back.

"Oh, my GOD!" Jim cried out at the penetration, all acting forgotten in the heat of the moment. Small he might be, at least in height, but Stanley Vecchio was a man, and could be a damn fucking machine when he wanted to.

And he wanted to. Stanley rode Jim without mercy, ramming into him again and again. He grabbed Jim's hips and lifted, tilting him so that his cock would rub over Jim's prostate when he pulled back far enough, then jabbed back in. Jim was washed with wave after wave of intense pleasure.

Stanley couldn't believe it. Jim could be the toppest top he'd ever run into, and now he was bottoming magnificently. Was there ANYTHING the man couldn't do? Shit, it would have made Stanley feel inadequate, if he wasn't having such a good time.

Stanley caught a glimpse of them in the mirror, and when he realized what they must look like, it brought him even closer to the edge. He had to add just a little more drama to the situation. "You love it, don't you, Ellison? You just love a hard cock up your ass. You'd do it for free if you couldn't get paid, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." The single word was breathy.

"Not good enough." Stanley's strokes were speeding up. Jim whimpered. "What do you love?"

"Cock. I love cock. Just shut up and fuck me, damn you!"

Stanley suddenly went still. Jim cried out in frustration, and tried to push himself down on Stanley, to impale himself on the hot, quivering prick that was only barely in contact with him now, the head only still enclosed in his body. But Stanley had a death grip on his hips, and he didn't have the leverage to move.

"DAMN YOU, VECCHIO!" Jim yelled, and he wasn't acting now. "DAMN YOU, YOU COCKSUCKER! STICK THAT IN ME, RIGHT NOW!"

"Beg."

Jim cursed him poisonously, using several different languages (well, you pick up colorful swears when you're in the army). But finally, when he realized that he couldn't push himself any farther onto that delicious prick, and Stanley wasn't going to give in, he said, "Please, Stan. Fuck me. I want it so bad. I need it. I need your dick in my ass. I'm gonna have a fucking stroke if you don't hurry up and bugger the shit out of me. PLEASE!"

"All you had to do," Stanly took hold of Jim's cock, squeezing, and buried himself to the root in his lover's body, as he spoke,"WAS ASK NICE."

Jim howled, and came. His jizm spurted so hard that he was splattered all the way up his torso, pearly drops staining his shirt, and landing on his throat.

When he felt the internal spasms caused by Jim's orgasm, Stanley tried to hold on for a minute more, but he never had a chance. Jim's strong internal muscles milked him as neatly as an experienced farmer's hand stripping cream from a cow's teat. The prophylactic caught and held the sperm, but with his Sentinel senses, Jim could still experience the heat and pulse. His yell wound down into a rough, satisfied purr.

Stanley half fell on him, panting. Jim lazily crossed his ankles behind Vecchio's neck, pulling him even closes, and cooed, "Damn, you're a big, bad copper, Vecchio."

"Don't you fuckin' forget it, punk."

"If I do, will you remind me?"

"Fuckin' A."

"I have a lousy memory." Jim stretched. "I'm gonna have to call the ACLU and report you for police brutality."

"Yeah? How do you figure I was brutal?"

Jim reached up, grabbing the back of Stanley's head, leaning up to him, growling, "You never kissed me, you unromantic son of a bitch." and plastered his mouth over Stanley's.

In a moment, they were both laughing into the kiss. Stanley wiggled out of Jim's arms, pulling his softening cock from his lover's body. "I do hope you know that wasn't an official interrogation technique taught at the Chicago acadamy."

"No? Damn, I was thinking about taking a refresher course." Jim sat up, and looked down at himself. "Well, I'M gonna have to go home and change before we do anything else. Unless Blair has a spare sweatshirt in his office. He wears 'em baggy enough for us to share, if we have to."

Since the shirt was pretty much a loss, Jim pulled it off and used it to clean himself. Then he turned it inside out, and knotted the sleeves around his neck. When he saw the look Stanley was giving him, he shrugged. "I'd rather fib about why I wasn't wearing a shirt than try to explain cum stains."

They left the room, and started for the elevator, so they could go to Blair's office in the basement. They met Ben and Blair coming out of a lecture hall. Both looked a little flushed. "Uh huh. Any extracurricular activities going on?" Jim asked.

"Just some negotiation about grading on a curve. Should I ask why you're wearing your sweatshirt preppy style?"

"You can, but I won't tell you. Do you have another one in your office?"

"Sure, man. Here." Blair threw him the key. "Take Stanley and Benny with you. I need to go get something I left in one of the rooms."

It turned out that Blair had a RANIER sweat shirt that Jim could squeeze into. He changed, and they made their way back up to the ground floor. Blair was lounging on the steps of the building, cradling a paper bag in his arms. Jim looked curious, but didn't ask. Blair was always bringing home some report or artifact.

By unanimous acclaim, they went back to Skeets for lunch. They had barely stepped through the door when Mama Ivy descended on them with a bellow of, "JIMANBLAIR! BENANSTAN!" Benny and Stanley had been officially adopted.

Ivy hugged all four, pinching each one on the butt before letting them loose, then stood back and studied them. After a moment, she nodded, smiling slowly. "What?" said Stanley, a little embarrassed.

"Oh, nuthin', sugar. Nuthin' at all. Just nice to see you boys gettin' along so FINE. Not a thing in this world does my heart as much good as the sight of young love." Benton and Stanley turned matching shades of scarlet.

The entire party, no longer distracted by mating rituals, thoroughly enjoyed their lunch.

Afterward, the question of what to do with the rest of the afternoon came up. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm a little tired." Blair commented. "I'd kinda like to just chill at the loft, maybe... watch a video."

Stanley coughed. Benton and Jim said that sounded alright with them. They stopped at the video store, and came away with a stack of tapes. Fraiser had insisted on a National Geographic video about wolves, but Blair certainly hadn't tried to argue him out of it. There were several action films, a bloody horror flick, and what was supposed to be a spectacularly rude comedy. Jim and Stanley agreed that it would probably be as amuseing to watch Fraiser watching the comedy as it would be to view the film itself.

Back at the loft, popcorn was made. Eventhough they had just finished lunch, it was agreed that the movie watching experience just wasn't complete without popcorn.

Jim, Stanley, and Benny settled on the couch. Blair was sorting through the videos, having claimed first choice. The other men didn't notice him ease an unmarked video tape out of the paper bag he'd brought from the university.

He went to the VCR, and plugged the tape into it. As he picked up the remote and walked around behind the couch, Jim said, "So, what's the first one, Chief?"

"Um...I'm not sure of the title. I think it's something like 'Shakedown'."

Jim groaned. "Christ, Chief, you didn't slip a cop movie in there, did you? We deal with cop situations every day. I want a little escape, and entertainment."

"Oh, believe me, Jim. This will be entertaining, eventhough you might want to escape."

"Well, fast forward through the commercials, huh? Get to the action."

The grin in Blair's voice SHOULD have warned him, after all the time they'd spent together. "Right, Jim. Action it is."

The tv blinked to life, the VCR whirred. There was just a jumpy, blurred image for a few seconds, as Blair fast forwarded. Then he hit play.

"...sixth time you've been busted for soliciting, Ellison. SIX! I've told you before, peddle your mouth and your ass if you want to, but not on MY turf..."

Jim came off the couch with a yell. Luckily, Fraiser had been holding the popcorn. Blair raced up the stairs, giggling madly, sentinel in hot pursuit.

Benton, after glancing after them and deciding, judging from Blair's squeals, the Jim wasn't ACTUALLY killing him, turned his attention back to the screen. What on earth had caused that reaction?

"Yeah? Well, he sure was enjoyin' my hand on his dick before he slapped the cuffs on me."

That large, dark haired actor looked very familiar.

"Who said cops can't enjoy that?"

Come to think of it, so did the smaller, fair haired one.

"What? I don't get you."

"Who said a cop can't appreciate a skilled hand, or a hot mouth, or a juicy ass? What I'm talkin' about HERE, Ellison..."

The popcorn kernal stopped halfway to Fraiser's mouth, and he gaped. "Oh, my."

Stanley reached over and took the kernal, popping it into his own mouth. "Yeah."

Fraiser watched the next few lines of dialogue in silence, rapt. Then Stanley on screen opened his pants and exposed himself. Benton turned soft, wondering eyes on his lover. "Ray...you're famous."

Part 20

Blair came flying back down the stairs and slithered in between Benny and Stanley on the couch. Stanley eyed him curiously. "How did you manage to get away from Tarzan? I figured you'd be up there for at least an hour, getting your brains screwed out."

"I had to promise him that next weekend we'll go back to the observation room and HE can be Bad Cop, and I'll be a male stripper busted in a raid. I don't plan to sit down for awhile after that." He snatched a handful of popcorn, crunching happily and looking not the least bit worried.

Jim thumped down the stairs, swearing softly in a not really serious manner. He leaned over the back of the couch, resting his chin on top of Blair's curly head, and the Guide fed him popcorn. "Sandburg, this IS the only copy, right? I mean, you didn't make a dub and slip it into a Wrestlemania tape case at Blockbuster, did you?"

"No, but you DO realize that you've just given me ideas, don't you?" At the low growl he said hastily, "Just kidding, Big Guy." Wiggling his eyebrows at Stanley, he whispered, "Mostly."

"Dammit, Blair, I'm a Sentinel. You KNOW I heard that."

"You were meant to."

"Brat."

"Yup."

Blair, surrounded by hard male flesh, snuggled contentedly and watched his lover getting his brains fucked out by the little blonde guy next to him. It wasn't that he hadn't seen such things before, perish the thought. But it was a rare treat when Jim agreed to bottom, and seeing it on tape just made it that much kinkier.

Beside him, Benton shifted, pressing a hand down on the bulge that was rising in his lap. "Blair, about what Jim said? Is there any possibility of having a copy of this? I do not personally own a VCR, but..."

"I do." Stanley reached across and stroked Benny's thigh. "Any time you want to watch skin flicks, Frase, all you got to do is ask or show up. I'll provide the beer."

Benny arched an eyebrow. "I suppose that means that I will have to supply the lubes and condoms."

"Now that's a Mountie for you. Grown up boy scouts. Be prepared." Stan sighed happily, moving his hand up, he pushed aside Fraiser's and began to rub his growing erection through the soft material of his sweats.

Blair was beginning to sport a little wood himself, and Jim had progressed to kissing his neck. "You guys, I do believe we're the horniest group around since the last time they tested Viagra." He reached out on either side, moving Stanley's hand as Stanley had moved Benny's, and began to fondle both of the Chicago cops. "Did you know that I am, to a certain extent, ambidextrous?"

Stanley sighed, dropping his head back. "Does that mean you like girls, too?"

Benny leaned forward a little to look across Blair. "Actually, Ray, that means that he can use his left hand as well as his right. Though it has been used jocularly to refer to sexual preferences, I believe the term you are looking for is..."

"Benny, I was making a JOKE. I KNOW what bisexual means. I AM bisexual, for cryin' out loud."

Jim transferred his attention to Stanley, licking his ear, and making him shiver. "I've noticed that for some people, BEING bisexual doesn't necessarily mean they UNDERSTAND it."

"Oh, wait, wait! Here comes my favorite part!" Stanley chortled.

All of the men turned their attention back to the screen just as Stanley went still and demanded, "Beg."

Blair watched Jim's yelling reaction on tape, then twisted his head to grin back at the sentinel. "He's right, Jim. You ARE a slut."

"Aren't we all?"

Ben nodded. "It would seem so, since I have already come once today, and now intend to fuck someone or something again." Jim looped his arms around the necks of the two visiting officers, this time resting his chin on Blair's shoulder. "That four way we ended up in was pretty damn hot. Any chance of doing it again, maybe with the players swapped around a little? I'd sure like one more of those before you guys fly Solly back to Chi."

Blair stoked his lover's cheek. "There are very few things that are impossible." He glanced from side to side. "Guys?"

Stanley's "Fuck, yeah!" was vehement.

Fraiser's, "That would be lovely." was just as heartfelt, if a bit more dignified. "If I might make a suggestion? We have not seen you and Jim make love yet, Blair. I think that would be both beautiful, and so hot I could hardly stand it."

Blair smiled slowly. "I never turn down a opportunity to get Ellison dick. What did you have in mind, Benny?"

"Well, this sofa is most convenient. I think we can come up with a satisfying combination of partners. If you, Blair, were to kneel facing the back, Jim could fuck you from behind. And Stanley, if you stood just THERE, you would be in a perfect position for Blair to suck your cock."

"Sounds good so far," Jim agreed, as the other two nodded. "But what are YOU going to be up to, Benny? Surely you don't intend to just watch?"

Benton smiled angelically. "Not when there will be two absolutely irresistible asses unfilled. I am going to be the busiest one, as I intend to rotate between you and Stanley."

There were many blinks. Finally Stanley said, "I can't believe MY Mountie just came up with that raunchy suggestion. Fraiser, how the hell does a recently de-virginized goodie like you come up with something so funky?"

"I have had a lot of time to fantasize, Ray."

"Sounds good to me," Blair hit rewind on the tape, then restarted it. "Background music. Okay, last one naked is a goober."

It was never decided exactly who the goober was, because for once even Jim and Fraiser didn't worry about depositing their clothes neatly. For a moment, the living room looked like the inside of a clothes drier.

Jim dashed to the bathroom, then tossed a spill of tubes of lubricant and condoms on the coffee table. "I'm damn glad we keep stock on hand. We're going to need extra if Frase is going to be swapping off. What are you DOING, Benny?"

Benton was busily ripping open foil packets, and lining them up. "I am preparing, Jim. I am not going to want to waste a great deal of time on preparation between partners. Otherwise everyone else will come before I get halfway there, and it will not be nearly as much fun."

As he was saying this, Blair was assuming the position, kneeling on the sofa, facing the back. He jutted his ass temptingly, spreading his knees. "Somebody get me ready. I'm hungry at both ends."

"I claim that privilege," Jim said firmly, picking up a tube of lubricant and opening it. He ran a hand over his lover's ass, dipping his fingers into the crease. "Ben, Stanley... You both have pretty asses, but Blair..."

"I know, Jim," Benton agreed. "Blair's ass is a natural wonder and a work of art. Now, please stick your fingers in it so we can get this show on the road." He was already rolling a condom down over his own straining erection. Once he was sheathed, he also picked up some Astroglide. "And while you are at it, if you would just bend a little and spread your legs?"

Stanley took the tube that Jim was through with. "I'll take care of myself, Frase. When you get ready, you'll be able to just push on in."

"Why, thank you, Ray. That is most thoughtful."

Almost simultaneously, Benton pushed the first finger into Jim's ass while Jim was working one into Blair, while Stanley was beginning his own preparations. There was a multitude of happy groans. Blair panted "I bet you'd have to go to a proctology center to find this many fingers up this many asses."

Stanley worked a second finger into his own anus, murmuring, "Yeah, but I PROMISE you they wouldn't be having NEARLY as much fun."

"Jim," Fraiser thrust in his second finger. "You are still a little open from Ray, earlier. I do not believe you need much more."

"I don't Benny. I'm ready for you right now. Just let me get Blair a little more stretched before you mount up, so we can do it together."

"All right." Benny thoughtfully reached over to stroke Stanley's cock while he pumped his fingers in Jim's ass. "I still want you to fuck me, you know, Ray."

"Yeah, babe. I will. Might have to wait till we get home, though. The boss is gonna wanna know WHY we both came back exhausted when all we had to do was babysit a perp."

"I, myself, am feeling quite refreshed and energized."

Stanley's eyes were hooded. "Glad to hear that. I want you to fuck me so hard I have to hang onto the couch to keep from being pushed over."

"Can do."

"Gotta love that Mountie attitude."

"Okay, I think we're ready." Jim pulled his fingers out of Blair's butt and grabbed condoms, handing one each to Blair before he began to roll his own over his shaft.

Blair whined. "Why do I have to wear one of these baggies? I'm not sticking mine anywhere."

"And you're not getting cum stains on my sofa. Again." Blair grumbled, but slipped on the little sheath, giving his swollen cock a few friendly strokes in the process.

"Stan, hold my shoulders, would you? I want my hands free, and I don't want to fall on my face."

Stanley moved into position behind the sofa. "Sure thing, kid." He lifted his cock toward Blair's lips. "Here ya go. Hot Polish sausage."

Jim frowned. "I thought you were Italian?"

Stanley shrugged. "Polish, Italian. Every country has it's own version. They all taste good. He grinned down at Blair as the anthropologist gripped his cock with one hand and ran his tongue over the flushed head. "Right?"

"It would be rude to speak with my mouth full." Blair slowly sank down on Stanley's cock. Stanley gripped his shoulders, and settled back to enjoy himself.

"Okay, Benny. Let me get in, then give it to me." Jim moved in between Blair's legs, spreading Blair's ass cheeks, and slowly slid his throbbing cock into the enticingly stetched hole. Blair hummed appreciatively as the thick rod speared up into him, rubbing over his prostate along the way. Stanley politely told Jim 'thank you' for inducing that hum.

Once Jim was buried to the root in his Guide's bowels, he braced his legs apart, and said, "Your turn, Benny. I get to be Lucky Pierre, give AND get."

"One moment."

"BEN! Where the hell are you going?! Get over here and fuck me."

"Do not be so impatient. I was only getting the wastebasket. I do not want to have to go all the way over there when I change rubbers, and I doubt you would want me to toss them that far."

"You're right about that. Oh, jeez..." Jim moaned as Fraiser nudged up against him, and began to push his carefully lubed cock into Jim's still slightly tender asshole.

"Are you all right, Jim?"

"He's fine," Blair called back. "I just felt his cock get even bigger. Go get 'im, Benny. It's gonna travel through him and just make my drilling all the sweeter."

"Blair, get back to work." Stanley scolded.

Jim pulled back, preparing to stroke into his lover's back passage. This thrust him back even tighter on the Mountie's invading prick, and he shuddered. He was torn between pounding into Blair, and pounding back ONTO Benny. Decisions, decisions, decisions. Benton wrapped his arms around Jim's chest, leaving his hips free to move as they would, letting him set the pace.

From where he stood, with his height, Benton had a clear view of Blair devouring Stanley. The sight of the two beautiful men pleasureing each other was highly erotic, especially since he was at that moment buried deep in a third, equally attractive, participant.

As much as he would have liked to draw things out, Benton knew that he'd better get on with it if he didn't want to be left hard while everyone else had shot their load. Not that it would be a BAD thing, because he had the feeling that one of them, if not ALL of them, would then concentrate on making him lose his mind. It just seemed... more companionable to try to co-ordinate his orgasm with the group. Consequently, he began fucking Jim strongly. Every time he shoved into the sentinel's tight ass, there was a grunt from Jim, and a happy squeak from Blair, and a subsequent moan from Stanley, and the motion traveled through the chain of flesh. It almost WAS like fucking all three of them at once.

Blair was as happy as Jim was, both mouth and ass filled with hot male flesh. He humped and slurped enthusiastically, hands working steadily on his own erection. Someone else doing it would have been nice, but hey, no reason to get greedy.

At the other end, Stanley gripped Blair's shoulders to steady him, and worked his cock in the wet satin depths of the other man's mouth. He could look down and see Blair's head bobbing on his prick, look up and catch the magnificent sight of Jim's thick cock spreading Blair's ass hole while he pounded it home, and look back and see the flushed face of his Canadian lover as Benny humped against the dark haired cop. This was, quite simply, too good. But it COULD be better.

"Ellison, I'm sorry, man. Benny, get the hell over here and fuck me. Right now!"

Benton laughed, pulling out of Jim's butt. "I'm sorry, Jim, but when a freind asks for help..."

"I understand." Jim panted, rocking his hips even harder now that he didn't have the restraint of Fraiser's cock up his ass.

Fraiser quickly stripped off the still unfilled condom and replaced it with a fresh on, walking around behind his friend. He gripped Stanley's hips, holding him still so he could aim. "I am sorry, Ray. I am not much for hitting a moving target."

Ray stood still while Fraiser pried his ass cheeks apart, and Blair took advantage to REALLY attack his job, grabbing Stanley's balls and rolling them in his palm. Stanley whined, "Christ! Hurry up, Benny!"

"Yes, Ray." Benton Fraiser, eyes gleaming, rammed into his lover with all his strength, almost driving him flat over the back of the couch.

Blair found Ray bent almost flat against his back, clutching him, jolting with every thrust of the big Mountie into his back passage. It was a good thing he had breath control, or he might very well have had to slow down on his head, or even stop entirely. As it was, Stanley had to settle for having half his cock sucked and half of it stroked, rather than getting deep throat. He didn't mind. At least Blair THOUGHT he didn't. The noises he was making sounded awfully pleased.

Benny fucked Ray with short, rapid strokes. Jim was good, Blair was good, but Ray was SPECIAL. And Ray was his, and would remain his. There was just something a little more intense about sex with the one you loved. Jim and Blair seemed to understand that, and build on it.

Stanley broke first, chanting, "Oh God. Oh God. Oh GOD!" he shot his load into Blair's mouth." Benton felt the spasmodic tightening of the other man's orgasm. He went still, reaching down quickly to grip the base of his own penis, squeezing ruthlessly. The pressure kept him from coming as Ray writhed around him, his inner muscles milking and rippling along the Mountie's cock. It was an absolutely incredible sensation, like Ray was using his ass to masturbate Fraiser.

When the twitching slowed, Fraiser gently pulled free. Stanley's hole still gaped slightly, and he couldn't resist leaning down to plunge his tongue into the slick depth quickly. Stanley made a sound that probably wouldn't have been too far off what he would produce under torture, and pushed his ass back into the Mountie's face. Benton decided that Astroglide, mixed with Ray-taste, wasn't all that bad, so he had some more, licking and probing the tender, quivering flesh industriously. Stanley sounded like he was coming unhinged. Fraiser made a mental note to ask Blair, who seemed most knowledgeable about such things, about the possibilities of flavored lubes.

With a last tongue thrust, Benton stood back, and changed rubbers again.

Blair now had his mouth free, which was good, because he was very busy panting at the moment. Jim hadn't let up, and was fucking him almost frantically now. It was pretty obvious that orgasm was fast approaching for both men.

It wasn't quite as easy to grab Jim's hips and still him as it had been with Ray. Finally Blair barked, "JIM! Dammit to hell, be still for a second so Benny can get inside you. Don't you WANT that nice, fat cock up your butt?"

Jim stilled just long enough for Fraiser to get his dick firmly lodged inside him once again, then started back up. Again he got the whipsaw motion going.

After a minute or two of this, with Stanley draped over the sofa back, kissing Blair and watching them with dreamy, sated eyes, Fraiser decided it was time to finish it.

Using his superior bulk and weight, he just moved forward. Jim couldn't stand against him, and moved forwards also. Blair ended up pressed flat to the sofa back, his cock rubbing against the soft cushions. Stanley thoughtfully squeezed a hand down and gave him a hand job as the fucking came to a conclusion.

Jim couldn't move at all. He was the filling in a Fraiser-Sandburg sandwich, and he loved it. It wasn't often he felt a sense of being so caught up in something that he was almost helpless, but this did it. All he could do was hang there and FEEL as Benton Fraiser drove into his ass, every thrust pushing him deeper into the hot, tight core of his lover.

Under the two way ecstasy, Jim was the second to come. Unable to buck, all he could do was clutch at Blair and scream as his seed boiled out. This time Benton didn't try to restrain himself, fucking all the harder as he felt Ellison's flesh grabbing at him. He came just as Blair made a mewling sound, shuddering as his own climax hit. The orgasms seemed to vibrate through all three of the interconnected me.

As they all four panted, Stanley HAD to go and say, "And fuck everyone who says cops can't organize or co-ordinate worth a damn. We should've filmed this, and shown it at the next damn seminar about intersystem co-operation."

Blair, on the couch, was safe. Luckily, Jim and Benton held each other up, or they would have ended up on the floor, laughing.