Test gave a huff of satisfaction as Shaman finished, as if he couldn't imagine couldn't imagine a sentinel or guide being any other way than together, whatever it took. Even if that meant intervention from Mother Earth, herself. As he had with Sentinel, he reached out to comfort Shaman, fingers smoothing curls away from a broad brow. "So Sentinel found Shaman as his guide, an' then t'Chaos hapn'd and t'tribes were made?"

Unselfconsciously Shaman leaned into Sentinel, almost putting his head on the shoulder Test wasn't using, to make it easier for the small boy to touch him. "Not right away," he answered. "Ever played with a string and had it snarl up on you, then the more you play with it the worse the snarl gets? The Chaos was like that: a few problems that got worse and worse, and for a while, the People of the City just tried to cope."

"It was pretty bad," Sentinel put in, "By the time Shaman decided that the best thing to do was to leave, make a whole new way of life with whoever he could persuade to go with him, people were so scared it was hard to convince them that his way might be better."

"The hardest part," Shaman interrupted, smiling widely, "Was convincing Sentinel. The People of the City were his tribe; a sentinel doesn't turn his back on them, ever."

"Only a Shaman could have done it," Sentinel agreed dryly.

"Only *his* Shaman could have done it," the smaller man half-laughed, his voice pitched for one person's ears. "A lover has advantages a simple Guide doesn't. And look what it took even then!"

TENSE TIMES - BEGINNINGS

"I am not going to order my men to fire on unarmed civilians!" Simon Banks roared at the mayor. "Martial law or not, that is murder!"

"Armed or not, that's the only way you are going to be able to handle a mob!" The mayor roared back. "Starving people aren't going to be controlled by a handful of men with tear gas and riot gear!"

Wincing, Jim turned down his hearing, and concentrated on vision, as a distraction. Pressing back into the corner he had chosen, he slowly surveyed the room, deciding by body language and location which men in the room were on which side of the argument. Most of the department - what was left of it - were with Simon, with very few exceptions. Making a mental note of those, he studied the mayor's bodyguard. Snorting in disdain, since armed thugs was a better description of his backers, Jim was surprised to find one or two in that bunch who obviously thought the mayor was full of it, too. He carefully made a mental note to watch them, as well.

There were more for Simon than for the mayor, enough of a majority that Jim knew Simon would be able to force a compromise, again. The mayor wasn't stupid enough to openly issue orders he knew Simon would defy, the police force along with him. How long that would hold when the inevitable clash came at the food warehouses, there was no way to guess. If a few of the officers were hurt, or the mob was able to over-run them, the next time guns wouldn't be an option.

After that, Simon's position would weaken. He probably wouldn't be able to get the support from his men that he would need to fight and win. Without Simon as an obstacle, there was nothing to keep the mayor from making what was left of Cascade his own private kingdom. Jim didn't know what he would do if - no, when - that happened. He just knew that he would not answer to the mayor under any circumstances.

From his vantage point, Jim could see the entire room, and both exits. A door opened, and he half reached for his gun on seeing the newcomer. Billings, the mayor's aide, did that to him, for no apparent reason. So far, the man had never done anything but talk, though that was bad enough. He watched as Billings also visually swept the room, probably checking the lay of the land, as well. When Billings' eyes settled, filled with contempt and loathing so intense Jim shuddered, he automatically looked to see who deserved such emotion.

Blair. Stifling a snarl, Jim made an abortive move toward his lover, intent on protection. Before he could, Taggart noticed the mayor's aide, nudged Rafe, and the two of them subtly shifted until they stood on either side of the smaller man. With a look that said plainly, 'what's *your* problem,' Taggart dismissed the man and turned his attention back to the ongoing argument at the front of the room.

Billings response was to spit in disgust and look for Jim. Whatever it was that the man saw in his face, it wasn't what he expected. He paled, visibly, and hurried to the mayor's side. Part of Jim wanted to keep his gaze on the creep, burn him with it like a laser. The saner part that usually spoke with Blair's voice told him that forcing the issue wouldn't come back to him. It would come back to his partner. Though the rest of the department had always been behind them, this was not the time to push their loyalty with a public confrontation.

Tuning in on Blair, to make sure he wasn't too bothered by Billings' attitude, Jim discovered his lover wasn't. He was oblivious. Not just to Billings, or to the fight up front, but to everything. Blair was staring out the window, shifting from foot to foot, restlessly. Despite his nervous movements, his heart and breathing were slow, even, steady.

In a voice only Jim would hear, Blair crooned, "The weather's changing, love. Wind's rising, being chased by warm, warm air. Can you feel it? And the moonlight's so bright and strong tonight. You could almost cup in your hands and drink it."

Turning from the window, Blair found Jim's eyes with his, the weather wildness in them deepening them to the color of the moon-filled sky. They were overflowing with feyness, and it spilled over and into Jim, making him shudder with delight and arousal. Everything around them grayed out, leaving only the energy between them and the call of the wind. They were held by it until another bellow from Banks slammed into Jim's hearing, dropping them both back into the fight.

"...am *not* for any reason, going to cut the supply to the Isolation Camp! The only crime of the children in there is either than their parents are dead or they're waiting to see if they're going to die too!"

"So we'll pull the kids out and find places for them with our healthy population."

"You can't do that! For starters, who's...."

Jim turned them off again, and refocused on his partner. Blair was working his way toward the door, moving so as to not attract attention. "Follow me as soon as you can, Jim," he murmured. "I'll be at the guard station."

Only waiting until he was sure that Banks had everything in hand, at least for now, Jim slipped away, too. Practically running, he made it to the outside station check point just as Blair was tossing two packs into the back of a jeep. Without a question, he jumped into the passenger seat, realizing his lover needed to do the driving. As they rolled through the last security gate, a short time later, Blair flashing something at the guard there, Jim felt the wind move into both of them.

Going utterly limp in the seat, he slid down until he could drop his head on the back of it, and sighed deeply when the last of the noise and light of Cascade was behind them. Blair shouted, a rebel yell mixed with a yodel mangling an Indian war cry. It was such an absurd noise, Jim was startled into laughing. Blair tried to look outraged, but spoiled it by chortling. The silliness took the last of the tension from both, and the guffaws died into a comfortable silence that slid along with the miles. Content to sit, hands on each other's thighs, they traveled the deserted roads for half the night.

Half dozing, Jim was literally bounced into awareness as the jeep left the road. Amazed, even with the bright moonlight, that Blair could see the track that was almost not there, he considered offering to take over the driving. A quick check on the bemused man beside him changed his mind. Not only did his lover seem to know exactly where he was going, but the look of enchantment he wore told Jim he was deep into his Blairwalk. From past experience, he knew that his companion would be mostly silent, and not really responsive to him. Not unaware; he didn't think that was possible between them. Simply...distracted until he was finally worn out enough to sleep.

In the few times it had happened since they'd been together, Jim had learned to let nature run its course. Generally, he followed his partner, watching over him and helping when he could, enjoying the adventures as much as Blair. Not that he had any intention of admitting that to his feisty lover. He wouldn't put it past Blair to act the part because he thought they were in a rut! This time, and Jim stretched hugely at the thought, this time it was a very good idea. Cascade and its problems were wearing him to the danger point.

Slowing, almost to a creep, Blair picked his way along the trail very carefully, the abruptly hit the gas and shot the jeep into what looked like impenetrable underbrush. It gave, with screeches and scrapes, and then they were hidden by it. Stretching himself, Blair got out, and went round to the back. There was barely enough room in the tiny clearing to move around the vehicle, but Jim managed to join him.

The back was filled with the kind of survival gear that a long-term expedition usually brought, but Blair only picked up a daypack and handed one to Jim. "We're supposed to be scouting for military relief vehicles coming down Rte 32," Blair said off-handedly. "Only Daryl knows where we've really gone. There's food here, too, though I'm hoping we'll be able to live off the land."

"Blair, there's enough food here for two weeks at least! You could buy half of Cascade with this. How the hell did you even get it?"

"I set this gear up before martial law was declared. Yeah, yeah, I know I could be accused of hoarding, but this is a department vehicle with department supplies. Technically, the army Meals Ready to Eat are emergency supplies."

"Eating a MRE qualifies as an emergency," Jim said dryly.

"Consider it inspiration to catch a lot of fish."

They carefully hid the traces of the passage of the jeep, back to a point where it could have gone in any direction. Leading the way, Blair continued on the trail from earlier, which rapidly became too rough for even a four-wheel drive vehicle. Regardless, Blair moved quickly along it, sure-footed and certain. Falling behind him, Jim kept the pace effortlessly and smoothly, enjoying the workout it was giving his body.

Blair kept picking it up, first trotting, then out-and-out running. Without thinking, Jim matched him, even anticipating the increases after a time. He knew this mindless running, fell into it automatically, all senses tuned to the nuances of the path and the man taking him along it. They went up into the mountains, following a promise of a path just below a ridgeline for several miles.

Jim was so caught in the zen of the climb, he missed it when Blair suddenly clambered up onto the ridge line itself, turned and tossed his day pack at his lover, shouting, "Catch!" Reflexively, Jim did without pausing and went over the crest, too. More burdened, now, and caught off guard, he fell behind a few paces, then a few more. Momentarily losing sight of his partner, he picked out the traces of Blair's passage and tried to make up the distance.

Before he could, he found Blair's jacket hanging from a branch, just beside the trail. Snatching it up, he went on and found Blair's outermost flannel shirt a short distance later. In rapid succession, he found two more layers of shirts, which left his teasing lover in his undershirt. He left all of them behind, but held on to the daypacks, and increased his speed.

With a softer warning of "Catch!" Blair's undershirt was thrown at Jim from the top of a small rock out-cropping. Jim missed it, and it landed over his head, covering his face in the hot, tasty scent of Blair. The shirt was redolent with his lover's arousal, and a faint tickling in the back of his nose that somehow communicated directly to his groin told Jim it was rich with Blair's pheromones, too. He snatched it off and started up.

Climbing the rocks was difficult, hampered by the packs and a growing erection as Jim was. It didn't stop him from making it in record time. At the top, he dropped the packs, intending to tackle his lover as soon as he saw him.

Instead, he dropped to one knee, mouth hanging open, barely able to breathe.

Outlined by the moonlight, Blair stood against the sky, naked and glowing softly. The pale shine flowed over him like water, lovingly delineating each muscle, each sweep of limb. He was graced with a halo of moonlight playing in his hair and a smile achingly provocative and alluring.

Jim had long since given this otherworldly being all that he had: heart, soul, life, future. Madly he longed to have something else, something more he could offer. Having nothing, he raised a single upturned hand, fingers curled apologetically over the empty palm.

Blair filled it with his own, coming forward a single step to do so. Bringing their linked hands up, he laid the back of Jim's hand against his cheek. Murmuring as he did, "So solid, so warm. There's the earth's own strength in you, James Ellison. I've envied that."

Standing carefully, as if afraid of frightening a wild thing, Jim brought his free hand up to float over the lighted curls of his lover, not quite touching them. "I've envied your freedom, Blair Sandburg. You're like the air itself, flowing past and through and around. Sometimes caressingly, sometimes with devastating determination."

Drifting toward his lover, Blair tentatively brushed a finger over Jim's hard-on. "Together we make fire. That's a creative force, you know, as well as a destructive one."

Surrendering to the spin of desire inside him, Jim pulled Blair into a tight embrace, deliberately grinding against the smaller man's cock. "What do we create, lover, windchild?"

"Joy." Blair answered simply. He reached on tiptoe as Jim bent, and their lips melded, becoming a furnace. Breaking the kiss painfully, Blair nuzzled into the curve of Jim's shoulder appeasingly. "Tonight, though," he started, the looked out to the horizon, becoming lost again.

After a patient minute, Jim took Blair's chin between two fingers and brought him back, repeating, "Tonight?"

Coming from a great distance, Blair went on, "Tonight something different, I think, earth spirit." He looked around, distractedly, then walked away, still holding Jim's hand. "Earth, air, fire, and...." Stooping, Blair went under the branches of a small but widespread tree, and took Jim into paradise.

"Water." A cascade of brilliance, barely ten feet high, spilled over a shelf of the mountain, dropping into a pool of welcoming ripples and dancing sparkles. Each side of the small waterfall was draped with vines, small orchid-like flowers looking incongruous this early in the year, and moss, muffling its song. Underfoot was a thick padding of moss, covering a clearing about the size of their loft. It was surrounded on all sides by either rock, or dense trees. Even from above, Jim doubted it could be seen, and he wondered vaguely how Blair had managed to find it.

While Jim took in their surroundings, his partner divested him of his clothes, with some absent-minded help from him. When he was naked, Blair moved backwards, pulling him toward the pool, licking and kissing the knuckles of the hands he held. Braced for a cold shock, Jim almost lost his balance and fell when the warm water closed over his feet.

"Hot spring, right above us, feeding the waterfall." Blair explained, mischief in his eyes, still leading them deeper into the water. "I've been all over making sure it was as secluded and safe as it looked. I've never seen any signs of anyone ever being here besides me."

With a shake of his head, Jim smiled. "And you've never come here with anyone, have you?" It wasn't really a question; he knew the answer with deep certainty in his heart.

"No, I've been saving it, though I didn't know why. Maybe because I could feel that this would be a consecrated place to me. To us, though I didn't know there would be an 'us." As he spoke, Blair maneuvered Jim through the chest high water toward the falls. He led him to where the drop of the water had carved a natural seat from the rock under the surface and pushed him into it. "Will you help me sanctify my secret glade, Jim?" He gave his answer by freeing his hands and opening his arms.

Buoyed by the water, Blair sat straddled on him, arms going around his neck to hold them together. Jim hid his face against the soft mat of hair on his lover's chest, and let his hands wander over hips and back. The falls made a natural jacuzzi, pounding and throbbing around them, first forcing their hard cocks together, then nudging them away.

While the frustrations of the recent past and knots of fatigue faded under the massage, the tantalizing, fleeting caresses created a new, aching tension deep in them. Trying to appease it, Jim began to nibble and suck on Blair's chest, drinking the water as it flowed over his lover. Finding the slightly metallic taste a compliment to Blair's own flavor, he satisfied his thirst, soaking it up first from one nipple, then the other.

Fingers scrabbling over the slicked down hair on Jim's skull, Blair tried to hold him to one spot. It was futile; Jim lifted him, working his way along the arrow of down pointing the way. The position, even with the help of the water, was too awkward, and Jim finally scooped Blair up and waded for a large, flat rock at one edge of the pool. He laid his lover on it, intending to cover him immediately, but Blair rose to his knees and coaxed Jim onto his back.

Once there, Blair planted his knees on either side of his lover's head, facing the prize he wanted, and leaned over to take Jim's cock in his mouth. Even as he thrust into that demanding mouth, Jim captured the erection bobbing over his face and drank from it as he had Blair's nipples earlier. With a clever tongue, his lover explored familiar territory, then delved beyond it to the dark recess behind soft balls.

He had to stretch to probe the hidden bud to Jim's body, taking his own need from the urgent suction to do so. Jim let it go, but only so he could duplicate his partner's caress, tucking Blair's cock between them as he plunged his tongue into the tight little hole. They matched rhythms, lips and tongues working together; hips moved back into the moist invaders, and then forward to slide cocks over slippery chests. Guttural groans of pleasure and wet sounds encouraged them both, enflamed them both, urging them to move on each other with greater and greater strength.

They had no thought beyond the sensations they were creating; needed nothing but to make it feel better for each other. Of one mind, they slid fingers into the pulsing openings, and reclaimed the taste of hugely hard shafts. Screams reverberated silently in filled throats, and reflex dealt with their seed.

Panting, Blair tenderly released the softening flesh of his lover, and collapsed onto him. Jim took his weight happily. He wouldn't have minded spending the rest of his life staring at the night sky while being a living mattress for Blair. Eventually the moon set, and the night air lost the currents of warm wind that had driven them out of the city. A shiver spread over his partner that even the balmy atmosphere by the pool couldn't prevent, and Jim reluctantly stirred, waking him.

"Come on, babe. If we're going to spend what's left of the night here, we'd better get dressed and start a fire."

"No, no fire here," Blair said groggily. "There's a better campsite close by: just give me a sec."

Carefully Jim rolled to his side, dislodging Blair, giving his flank a pat in regret as he did. It only took a moment for him to fetch the packs, and the clothes he had shed earlier. Blair's held a change of clothes, and Jim gave them to him. Looking more alert, Blair dressed, retrieving his pants and shoes from where he'd dropped them. Still attuned to each other, words not necessary, they linked hands to leave as they had entered - joined.

*****

Dawn found them standing side-by-side, looking into the valley below the ridge as it filled with sunshine. Mist rose from the forest floor, giving the odd illusion of being the warm exhalation into the crisp air by some gigantic creature.

"Jim," Blair began thoughtfully, speaking for the first time since they had left their glade. "How many people do you think this" and he gestured widely to the lands below, "could support, without wrecking its ecology?"

There was no reply for a long, long time, then Jim said slowly, "Blair, you *can't* be considering abandoning Simon."

Turning the bigger man to be able to look into his face, Blair said softly, persuasively, "Not abandoning: creating an alternative. Not just for him, either, but for the good cop that lays aside his gun rather than fire on civilians. For the loving father thinking of murder so his children won't starve. For the women who see a future where they give their body to the strongest man. Any man who will have them, no matter how abusive, because that dubious protection is all they have.

"And for the children in the Isolation Camp who have no family left, who no one will take because they're just another mouth to feed. If they could be raised where all adults were responsible for all children, being an orphan wouldn't matter. Not to them and not to grown-ups."

"They don't know how to survive out here, Blair." Cupping the back of his lover's head in one palm, Jim reasoned carefully with him, not wanting to fight.

"We teach them, a handful at first." Blair explained earnestly. "That handful teaches others. And there are other resources we can use in the beginning. I know of an old survivalist camp, built by rich kids playing at nuclear holocaust scenarios, not far from here. It has everything needed to start a new home for us. Medicine, foods, even solar powered electric generators for god's sakes. None of the original owners were left alive by the 90's; I think Mom and I are the only ones who knows it exists."

Mulling over Blair's words, Jim told him, "I've been pushing to do some intelligence gathering. One of the last things we heard before communications shut down was that some towns had zero survival rates from SAR. There could be homes, grocery stores, restaurants we could salvage from. The mayor wouldn't even think of it, too afraid to let his 'strength' out of his sight."

"If we were careful, we could husband supplies until we were self-sufficient. If we grew too much, we could seed out, create new communities." Excitement bubbled from Blair, who clearly thought he was winning his partner over.

With a quick hug to reassure Blair, Jim stepped away and looked over the valley again, seeing it as a potential home. This time he saw the mist as smoke from fires and steam from cook pots. "Fire," he whispered, remembering the words that preceded their loving earlier. "Water, Air, Earth - all that's needed for life. *That*" and he lifted his chin to the future he saw out beyond them, sure that Blair saw it too, "is the creation you spoke of."

"No," Blair denied quietly. "What I saw was you becoming the Sentinel you should be. Protecting *your* tribe, living with *your* people as part of them, along side them - not hiding who and what you are to protect yourself."

Part of Jim wanted to retreat from that image, from the vulnerability in living that life. But he could not ignore the stronger feelings of relief and longing it gave him. Memories of Peru, contrasting with those of his time as sentinel in Cascade, mixed and tumbled in his mind, defying any attempt on his part to order them. Forcing himself to think of them as a different kind of sense to zone on, he grabbed the first image that he could get a grip on.

Of course, Blair. Always with him, but behind, hidden, shadowed. Depending over and over on others to give him what should be his by right: his place by Jim as Guide and Shaman. Or pushing his way there, defying others to stop him or move him. If he stood as Sentinel, then Shaman would be there as a matter of course.

Unaware that Blair had taken his mute, motionless stance as rejection, Jim swam up from his revere to find the smaller man visibly wilting. Shoulders slumping, Blair was staring at his shoes, mumbling under his breath self-inflicted put downs. "...stupid to leave the security of familiar territory. Couldn't make a bunch of refugees into a viable community, anyway."

"Chief," Jim interrupted.

"I mean how could we even begin to start customs...."

"Chief," Jim repeated patiently.

"Oh! It's ok, Jim, really, I mean, I hadn't thought it out, you know how air-headed I get when the weather is right."

With an exaggerated sigh, Jim broke in. "I have yet to see it blow you wrong, Chief."

The relief on Blair's face rivaled the newborn sunshine for luminance. "We're going to do it? We're going to build a tribe?! You're going to be my Sentinel, for real?!"

Speaking from the place where a panther was languidly grooming itself, filled with self-satisfaction, Jim answered, "No, I will be *their* Sentinel. As you will be *their* Shaman. But Jim Ellison," and he pointed a thumb hard at himself, "will belong to you. Only you, no matter what. Remember that Blair. And remember, *you,*" he jabbed the same thumb at Blair's chest, "Blair Sandburg, belong to me."

With the last echoes of wind wildness in Blair's voice, he dreamily replied, "I am yours; you are mine. The best thing that will come from our future will be that it is with each other."

Fiercely he dragged down *his* Jim's head to devour the mouth in a kiss intended to leave an imprint on their lips for the rest of their lives. Accepting the urgency, increasing it, Jim swept *his* Blair up into his arms, to carry him to their glade.

As would every Sentinel who claimed his Guide as lifemate along as the people of Freedom Range remembered their existence.

next home