"Oh, it musta hurt t'wait," Test murmured, stroking Sentinel's cheek, sympathetically. The blue eyes were looking into the past, though, and didn't register the gentle touch until Shaman leaned over and did the same to the other side. Then Sentinel focused abruptly on the smaller man, giving him a wane smile.

Seeing that, but not understanding the emotion behind it, Test asked somewhat hesitantly. "If'n 'so bad for sentinels, how's it for *guides?*"

"Not so bad in some ways, Test," Shaman said quietly. "Mostly we want to help, you know, but inside, inside....." He trailed off, taking his turn looking at what could only be seen inside his own head.

The child waited, patiently if restlessly, then prompted, "Inside?"

"Inside we're always looking, waiting, *wanting* something," Shaman admitted, almost to himself. "Like the wind is in us, blowing us around."

PRESENT TENSE

Full moon peeking through growing clouds, warm wind in January cold, blowing madly with the promise of a rare winter thunder storm - any normal person would be inside preparing for the rains. Blair Sandburg was wandering the city, pushed along by the promise of wildness in the weather.

He had always loved nights like this. Many times, starting as a child, he had walked in them, feeling, that if he went limp at just the right time, the winds would pick him up and he would fly. When he was little, he would run with the wind pushing at his back, laughing and spinning until he collapsed, too tired to move again. Then, lying on his back, he would watch the racing clouds, wanting to be up there with them.

The older he got, the more the call of the dancing wind would reach inside him, pulling at him, until one evening he followed the wind to a friend's house and took him up on the offer to hitchhike with him to the shore.

It had been the first of many times he had answered that mad urge to go when the wind summoned. Sometimes he found adventure or fun on his trip. Sometimes he found more important things. Running with the wind had led him to his first trip as an assistant in an anthropology study, giving him the first true love of his life. Later, it had sent him back to Cascade, and still later, into his sentinel research.

For over two years, he had not heard its call, and he had thought himself settled, finally. Surely even the winds rest, once in a while. But tonight, the moon and wildness and wind beckoned him, in a voice insistent and strong.

And for the first time, he resisted. Fought it. He was where he wanted to be, doing what he wanted to do. Finally, he had found something in this life he wanted to call his own, no matter how short a time he had to do so. Strange as it was to everyone who knew him, he loved his life as Jim's partner, friend and roommate. The wildness couldn't claim him, now. He wouldn't let it.

Sitting still was impossible, though, and he walked, not caring where, not thinking at all, letting the madness blow through him. A part of him realized he would walk until exhausted, then call Jim to come and get him. It would mean a looonnng lecture, but there was *no way* Jim could understand this itch to go, just *go.*

It came as more than a surprise to find himself walking up the street to his own home. He stopped, buffeted by the fancies of the weather, and wondered why his madness had brought him here, of all places. The peace he usually felt inside after a jaunt wasn't there; this had to be just a rest stop.

Well, he could use it. Running a hand through his hair, fruitlessly trying to tame its disarray, he went up the stairs and let himself into the loft. Absentmindedly, he put his things away properly - Jim was going to faint from shock because of it - and called out to his friend. Though the lights were on, and Blair could clearly see his roomie's keys in the basket, there was no answer.

The oddness of that penetrated Blair's self absorption, and he looked around for some other sign of his partner. Seeing the balcony doors ajar, he went to them and slipped out, and found Jim leaning back against the wall next to them.

He was totally zoned. Alarmed, Blair stepped in front of him, calling his name, reflexively dropping into the cadence and tone the sentinel had always responded to best. It didn't seem to penetrate, this time, and, more than alarmed, Blair locked a hand onto Jim's shoulder. "Listen to my voice, Jim, focus on me, let go and come back now. Listen to my voice...."

For a moment, it seemed Jim looked at him, but then he was gone again. Frightened, not sure what to do if he couldn't call Jim back, Blair stepped in close, put his hands flat on his partner's chest and shoved, shouting his name. It didn't budge him, but Jim lifted his hands and cupped Blair's face, fingers trailing into his hair.

The weather wildness surged, urging Blair forward, and he hesitantly followed its bidding. He came to rest against the solid expanse of Jim's chest, tentatively, not sure of his welcome. But Jim was lowering his head as he coaxed his guide's up, and he stretched onto tiptoe to meet him.

.

Jim sipped at Blair's lips, and Blair couldn't help the tiny, "Oh!" that darted past. "Oh, finally," they both said, then Jim was surrounding him, carrying him to the floor. Trembling, Blair surrendered himself to this new madness, reveling in the fact that Jim was shaking even harder. Mouths locked, refusing to part to undress, they pushed clothes out of the way so bare skin was to bare skin.

When Jim took both erections in one great hand, and began stroking them, Blair arched his back, threw back his head, and screamed. Blinded by the intensity of the pleasure, he clawed at Jim's shoulders, trying to hold the big man closer.

Then the peak was past, and panting, he held Jim while his lover moaned his name over and over. One hand on the back of Jim's head, he hugged his lover fiercely until Jim calmed. A warm wind whipped around them, almost as if weaving them together, then was gone.

The first drops of rain hit, and, knowing the most perfect peace of his life, Blair lifted his face to it and laughed.

*A Year Later*

Hugging a sheet around himself, Blair went out on the balcony of the loft, drawn by the sounds of the wind scouring the city. Moonlight, warm wind, and restlessness: his old recipe for spending the night haunting the street like a ghost. Hating the lure of it, he had taken Jim upstairs and tried his level best to exhaust both of them. But he had awakened, and the tug of madness was still there.

Struggling with it, deep in his own thoughts, he didn't hear when Jim came to stand behind him. Then he was enveloped in the sturdy strength of his Sentinel, and he leaned back into it, glad for the offer.

To his surprise, Jim whispered in his ear, "Go, Chief. I feel it inside you, too, and it has always led you *toward* me, not away. Go."

Whirling, Blair met the understanding look of his partner, gave him a quick kiss, then ran upstairs to dress. Minutes later, standing at the door, he hesitated. He didn't know what to say to Jim, but didn't want to leave without some word of promise between them.

Jim strapped on his gun, picked up his jacket, and handed Blair his. "I didn't say alone."

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