Test of Tranquility Pt 2

TEST OF TRANQUILITY

PART TWO

They made the vehicle change in Yakima without incident. When Jim's eyes started to drift shut, Blair grabbed a pillow for his lap, then encouraged Jim to lie down and place his head there. At dusk, they stopped for a steak dinner and conversation was kept quiet and casual, if only because Jim didn't seem to have much to say. But he ate heartily. Afterwards, Blair drove for a few hours while Simon slept in the passenger seat.

When it was Simon's turn at the wheel again, it only took a nudge from Jim to signal Blair that he was returning the favor, and Blair gratefully lay down, but kept the weight of his head on Jim's outer thigh so he wouldn't put pressure on the burns.

They reached the outskirts of Boise after midnight and wasted no time in getting a room at a moderately-priced motel, Simon taking one bed and Jim and Blair the other.

They slept until mid-morning. Then they ordered a full brunch from the pancake house across the street, which was willing to deliver to their room. After eating they got down to business.

Simon handed Blair a cell phone. "This is a new phone, under the name of a deceased cousin of mine." He held up another phone. "I've got a new cell phone under a bogus name, too. The number is in memory under 01 on your phone. Nobody else has this number and I'm the only person who has the number to your phone. So, if it rings and it's not me, it means somebody has caught on to what we're up to, and you'd better get out of whatever town you're in and find some other way of contacting me."

Blair nodded, glad that Jim was also listening intently.

"You've each got three sets of IDs," Simon continued, handing them each a large folder. "One of the IDs for each of you has a passport."

Shit, this is serious, Blair thought, considering it might actually be necessary for them to leave the country. We haven't even done anything wrong.

"I'd suggest that you rotate the IDs around, so that if anyone manages to track any pair of names there will be a big gap before each name picks up again." He eyed them firmly. "I wouldn't stay longer than a week in any one place, and even then I'd switch around motels, if you can. I'll take the first plane back to Cascade today and see if I can get in touch with the general you knew, Jim. But this could be a slow process."

After Jim and Blair nodded, he shrugged. "I don't know what you two are going to do to occupy yourselves." He presented a forced smile. "Might be a good idea to catch up on some reading."

"We'll be fine, Simon," Blair said. He felt the truth of that, as long as he was with Jim. He'd never had much inclination to put down roots in the first place. He just didn't know what all this constant movement was going to do to Jim's state of mind.

Jim said, "Thanks, Simon, for all of this. Please watch yourself. And for God's sake, bail out if it starts looking too dangerous or like you might have to join us and risk never seeing Daryl again. Blair and I can manage."

"I don't intend to reach a point of no return with this. There's just something wrong with this whole setup, Jim. I can't believe the entire military authorized it or is okay with it. There's got to be somebody who will listen to reason and agree that you've been wronged in a way that no one - let alone a decorated and honored American veteran - ever should be. Once I reach someone I can trust, we can start taking steps to working this thing out so you can come home."

Simon paused expectantly and Blair wondered if Jim was going to offer up any information that might fill in the silence. But Jim said nothing, only nodded. Surely, Blair decided, if there was any flaw in Simon's thinking - in his assumptions about what might have happened to Jim - Jim would have said so.

Simon seemed to believe that also. He turned to his duffel bag. "You may as well take me to the airport and I'll see if I can get on the next flight to Cascade."

They stayed at the airport until Simon's plane left late that afternoon.

As they headed back to their motel, Blair asked, "How you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you mind then if we stop at a mall or something? I'm not eager to hole up yet in our motel room."

"Sure."

"Let me know if you start feeling like you need to crash or if your burns start bothering you."

"You had to remind me."

Blair was glad see the humor, even though he knew Jim was at last partially serious.

They strolled leisurely down a mall, not looking for anything in particular. Then they came across an arcade. "This looks like a great place to burn off some excess energy," Blair said. "Do you mind?"

"Go ahead."

While Jim sat in a plush area to one side, Blair stood at the nearest cluster of games and fed them tokens for nearly an hour. After a while, he realized his subconscious was completely lost in the mindless fantasy of blowing up starships, while the reality of his present circumstances began to creep into his consciousness.

They had no responsibilities, other than their day-to-day survival, which included a necessary degree of paranoia and the need to travel to a new town frequently. It wasn't that Blair minded seeing so many new places; it was just that he didn't know what he was going to do with himself each day. An escape into an arcade was hardly going to last sixteen hours a day, every day.

While Blair had a tendency to get restless before Jim did, Jim was also going to start feeling stir crazy as his physical condition continued to improve. Sure, they could go see movies - whether at the theater or in their motel room - maybe even see the sights in various towns and catch up on some reading. But none of their activities would serve any long-term purpose.

That made Blair uneasy.

He tried to tell himself that he should approach their situation as an adventure; that it was exciting to not know what each day was going to bring. Yet, he also couldn't escape the simple fact that they were in danger and needed to keep a constant vigil. All they had to do was let their guard down in one overly confident moment, and he and Jim both could be nabbed by the army, their lives reduced to one of captivity - or worse.

When Blair's ship was blown up on the arcade screen, he slammed the side of the machine with his open hand.

"I think you've had enough of this," Jim said beside him. He guided Blair away.

Blair looked up at him with a heavy frown.

Jim appeared concerned and they exited the mall through the first available door. The summer night air was pleasantly cool.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked as they walked slowly to their car, his hand on Blair's shoulder.

"I think this is all starting to get to me."

Jim hugged him. "I told you before that you shouldn't have gotten mixed up in this. But I'm glad you're here."

Blair smiled at him. "I really wouldn't want to be anywhere else. It just seems so unfair, to you even more than to me. You didn't have a choice."

They stopped by the car in the parking lot. In a pleading voice, Blair asked, "Why did they take you, Jim? What do they want from you?" He decided that it was past time to have things revealed on Jim's schedule. He needed to know.

Jim leaned back against their sedan and crossed his arms, his head bowed.

"Was it your senses?" Blair prompted, standing in front of him.

"They never said," Jim replied quietly. He took a sip of the bottled water he held. Then, his gaze still lowered, he said, "They picked me up at gunpoint. They wouldn't tell me anything on the ride to the base. It was over an hour and I had a lot of time to think about what they might want. Because they were polite, besides the guns, I figured they wanted me for something. And the only reason I could think of was because of my senses."

Jim was silent a long moment. Then he continued, "I knew I had to make a decision about how I wanted to handle it, while I had the chance. I decided that I was going to deny it all the way down the line. Because even if they wanted me for some sort of mission that I was agreeable to, there was no guarantee they'd let me go back to my life."

Back to my life with you, Blair hoped Jim meant between the lines.

Jim sipped his water again and now looked at Blair. "Once I made that decision, I knew, from that point on, that I couldn't risk giving anything about my senses away. When we arrived at the base, they sat me down in front a colonel who started asking me all sorts of questions - everyday ones, at first, and then ones leading up to my senses. I wouldn't let him catch me off guard. I kept denying it. He asked me why you'd lied at your press conference and I told him that you hadn't. My sentinel abilities were some big fabrication of yours." His mouth corner twitched. "I told them that I thought you had some mental problems and suffered from delusions of grandeur. That I was trying to find a way to politely kick you out of my house and out of my life."

Blair found a smile too, but his mouth felt tight and he gulped loudly with lowered eyes, knowing that his press conference had to have played a part in this.

"When they couldn't get anything out of me, they locked me up in a nice room. Then this short, bald guy - I never knew the motherfucker's name - "

Blair looked up sharply at the first anger Jim had expressed since his rescue.

"-he'd come for me with these guards. They started doing all these 'tests'. They weren't pleasant but I called upon everything you'd taught me and kept my senses dampened down." Jim took another sip of water, his gaze distant. "Yet, I had to be careful not to dampen anything down below 'normal' or they might become suspicious that I wasn't normal."

"So," Blair asked, needing to understand, "they were doing these tests to punish you? Or to prove that you were a sentinel and it couldn't be denied?"

Jim shook his head. "Neither, I don't think. I think Baldy was trying to prove my sentinel abilities to a superior. I was just a lab rat to make his point. By that stage, he didn't care - and I don't think his superiors cared - about where I fit into it. I was just a means to an end." He swallowed more water.

"Then why the burns?" Blair asked, his stomach twisting. "Sentinel or not, burns like that have to hurt like hell. It's pure torture."

Jim drew a deep breath and bowed his head again. After a moment, he said, "That came later. After a week or so of putting me through the tests - and getting nowhere - I overheard one of the guards talking about how the computerized lock on my room had a glitch and between a certain time each night, my room wasn't actually locked. It seemed an obvious way to escape. But then I got to thinking it was so obvious that it had to be a trap. I figured that Baldy was thinking that if I overheard the guards talking, then it would prove that I had sentinel hearing, at least. So I didn't fall for it. I think that was the final straw that proved I wasn't a sentinel."

Yet, despite the relief that Blair felt should have come from that last sentence, Jim's voice had an edge to it. He waited a long moment and Blair was tempted to tell him he didn't need to finish. But Jim had gotten this far; surely, he wanted to go ahead and tell the rest.

"Baldy had failed," Jim finally said. "He hadn't proved that I was a sentinel. He was humiliated, I guess. He retaliated. Maybe the brass was still trying to figure out what to do with me because I was still locked up. For all I know, maybe they intended to have me 'disappear' because they were afraid I wouldn't keep my mouth shut about what they'd done to me. Anyway, the colonel never talked to me after that first interview.

"So, once it was obvious I wasn't a sentinel, Baldy had the guards bring me into his testing room for his 'retaliation'."

Heart breaking, Blair sputtered, "But how could everyone else just stand by while he did that to you? Especially when it was just a personal vendetta?"

"I don't think anybody knew. It was just me and Baldy in the testing room. I guess he figured he would do what he could to me until the brass took me away from him." His voice hardened. "Or otherwise 'disposed' of me."

"You're a decorated officer," Blair said, his heart still aching, "how could they do that to one of their own? You've been in covert ops. You're sworn to secrecy. You've never broken a vow. If they told you to keep quiet about the testing they'd done, why would they think you wouldn't?"

Jim rubbed his hand back through his hair. "I don't think this was any kind of official investigation into my sentinel abilities. I think Baldy was some scientist who wanted to prove I was a sentinel and he got the colonel interested. I think it was the colonel himself - and some underlings - pulling all the strings. If the brass higher up gets wind of this, then the colonel and Baldy could be in a lot of trouble. Baldy is in trouble with the colonel anyway for being wrong about me." He looked at Blair. "I'm an untidy loose end."

"And that's why they want you back," Blair said thoughtfully. He gulped. "To finish you off?"

"Maybe." Jim sighed. "The good news is that if Simon can get to somebody of high enough rank to look into what the colonel and that prick Baldy were up to, they can take care of it in-house. Since I'm not a sentinel, I don't have any beef with them and I'll be happy just to have my life back."

I'm not a sentinel. Blair repeated that phrase in his mind, realizing that, for the time being anyway, it was literally true.

Blair shook his head sadly. "You deserve more from them than just knowing that they'll leave you alone in the future. They hurt you. Caused you great pain that you should never have suffered."

Jim shrugged, as though to say, "That's life." Then he said, "However this gets worked out, I'm sure one of the concessions to being left alone is the agreement that I'll never try to press any kind of charges."

"That sucks," Blair muttered, looking around the lot. They were in Boise, Idaho, not knowing a single soul and not knowing what their future would bring. "If it was just the colonel and his staff involved, then how can he have enough power to be conducting a search for you?"

"I'm not sure. But he may not be using just army. He could be having private investigators or mercenaries trying to tail us, at least, if not outright capture us and haul us in."

"Do you think anybody could be watching us now?" Blair asked worriedly.

Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulder and tugged until Blair leaned back against the car next to him. "I don't see how. They'd have to figure out that Simon turning in the rental car under a phony name in Yakima matched up to two guys with our false names renting a different car at a separate counter. But if an investigator got that far - somehow knew we'd gone to Yakima - it's possible that he could have interviewed workers at the Avis desk and found out that we all left together in the second rental car. Even then, they couldn't have known we were going to Boise unless they were close enough to tail us. And I don't see how that's possible."

Blair decided not to point out that very little of their current situation seemed possible.

Jim hugged Blair against his side. "I'm sure we're safe, Chief. We just need to make sure we don't do anything stupid and keep moving on every few days, so that nobody can establish a pattern and anticipate where we might be. In order to do that, they would have to have these new cell phones traced and know our fake identities. I don't see how that could happen."

Blair nodded, feeling somewhat reassured.

Jim's hand moved down and scratched at his groin.

"Let's go," Blair said, pulling his keys from his pocket. Once they were in the car and buckling up, he said, "Maybe you can sit in a bath for a while and it'll help the itch. Those burns are probably scabbed over enough now that we can put some ointment on them that'll help."

"Yeah, let's hurry," Jim said.

Blair intended to do just that. Jim had been very uncomplaining about the burns, but they had to have been extremely painful for a while, and now that they were on their way to healing, it was probably more a matter of itching than outright pain.

Jim had been in the bath for ten minutes when Blair thought about how much he had enjoyed having his scalp massaged when they'd been at the cabin.

Blair stood outside the partially open door. "Jim? Would you like me to wash your hair?"

He sensed the hesitation, then a pleased "Sure" emerged from the tub.

Blair grinned, tempted to tease his roommate about wanting to be pampered, but he was afraid Jim would take it the wrong way and change his mind. He gathered shampoo and some hand towels, then rolled up his sleeves. Since he had nothing with which to pour water over Jim's head, he grabbed the coffee pot to use for that purpose.

When he had Jim's head full of shampoo and was massaging with his fingertips, he was rewarded with a few low growls of pleasure and Jim's closed eyes.

Blair waited until his arms got tired, then he teased, "Your head is way past clean. Time for a rinse and then you're done."

"What can I bribe you with?"

Blair chuckled. "If you don't whine about stopping, I'll do it again tomorrow night."

"Deal."

Yet, Blair was reluctant for the hair washing to end, too, even as he anticipated resting his arms after rinsing Jim's head with bath water poured from the coffee pot. Jim had suffered severe physical pain at the hands of his military comrades, and now it made Blair feel good to be the one providing him with simple pleasures.

After Jim was out of the bath, Blair pretended to watch TV from his bed while waiting for Jim to finish applying ointment to his burns.

Once Jim had put the tube aside and pulled the covers up over himself, Blair rolled to face him from his own bed, his cheek propped in his hand. "Jim? Thanks for telling me about what happened. I hadn't wanted to ask you until you were ready to talk about it but I needed to know."

"I know you've been wondering," Jim said quietly. "You have a right to know. I just hadn't wanted to think about it or put the effort into it." He grabbed a Sports Illustrated from the small desk between them.

"That's what I figured. We need to tell Simon, though. He needs as much information as possible to work with."

"Yeah." Jim browsed through the magazine a moment and then he laid it down. "Chief? Thanks for... letting me have those days." He shrugged awkwardly. "You know, to recover." He picked up the magazine again.

Content, Blair curled back in a position that allowed him to face the TV. I've always wanted to be your sanctuary.

Jim had allowed him to be just that.

Three days later they had migrated east to the little town of Rexburg, near the Montana border. There weren't many restaurants to choose from, so they ended up at a bar for dinner.

Blair noticed that the waitress seemed to scrutinize them closely - particularly Jim - and he became uneasy. Once she'd walked away after serving their beverages, Blair said, "Did you get the feeling she's looking you over?"

"She was looking for rings."

"Rings?"

"Wedding rings on our hands."

"Oh." Blair grinned, relaxing. "She was looking you over, in particular. I think she likes you."

Jim shrugged.

"Maybe you should ask for her phone number. Or when she gets off work. I can get lost for a few hours." In fact, getting laid might do Jim a lot of good.

Jim looked bashful. "Chief...."

Blair suddenly realized why Jim looked uncomfortable. He felt like an ass. "I forgot. Sorry. It'll probably be a while before...." To say nothing of Jim's probably feeling self-conscious about how all those little blisters would look to a complete stranger. Having one's date run away screaming was hardly a boost to one's ego.

Jim merely looked resigned. "Doesn't matter. I couldn't do anything with her anyway." He sipped his beer.

Blair was sipping his own beer and it was a moment before Jim's comment registered. "What do you mean 'anyway'?"

Jim didn't meet his eye. "I can't...." He trailed off, as though that made his meaning clear.

Oh, no. But surely there was a good reason. "Jim, man, come on. If you're having any... side effects... it's probably because of the pain you've suffered. I mean, the urge will surely come back."

"Whatever," Jim said.

He seemed genuinely nonchalant. Blair supposed that the prospect of losing his sexual desires might not be a catastrophe for a man who didn't date much to begin with, and one who hadn't had a long-term relationship for as long as Blair had known him. Still, Blair couldn't relate to the idea of not having the urge, and especially the idea of not caring if one had it.

When the waitress left the bill on Jim's side of the table - giving him a large smile - she'd written her phone number on the back and "I get off at 11:00."

Jim left the payment on the table, plus a generous tip, and wrote "Sorry, but I have other plans."

"Breaking hearts all over the west," Blair teased as they exited.

A few days later, it was Blair's turn. In the small town of Salmon, near Idaho's northeastern border, they had checked in with Simon and assured him that they were fine. He, in turn, said he'd gotten the attention of a General Townsend, who was agreeable to having a meeting with him. "Watch yourself," Jim had warned, and Simon assured them that he wouldn't meet the general without some Major Crimes personnel to discreetly back him up.

After the call, they went to a laundromat to wash their limited clothing. It was the middle of a weekday afternoon and there weren't many patrons. A young woman kept looking in their direction. Finally, she approached and struck up a conversation with Blair.

When she excused herself to see to one of the dryers, Jim moved next to Blair and said, "Go ahead and act on her interest, Chief. There's a theater down the street with a double feature. I'll be fine."

Blair really did want to get laid. But, "Nah, I wouldn't feel right about it. We'll be leaving town in a day or two."

Jim snorted. "She's looking for a good time for an evening - not to marry you. Go ahead."

Blair looked back over at her petite figure as she pulled clothes from the dryer and folded them. He could imagine how good she'd feel. It could be a nice, uncomplicated coupling. Still....

He shook his head. "Seriously, Jim, I don't want to."

"Chief, I don't expect you to be celibate just because we're hanging out with each other twenty-four hours a day. Besides, it might improve your mood."

Blair frowned. "What's wrong with my mood?"

Jim grinned and nudged him. "You just proved my point."

Blair started to protest but she was coming back toward them, smiling brightly.

Blair mentally grumbled when Jim left for the vending machines on the other side of the room.

"So," she finally said after her idle conversation wasn't getting anywhere, "would you like to get together tonight? I have a really comfortable place. I cook, too."

"Mandy," Blair said, drawing a breath and wondering if he was going to hate himself in the morning. Or later tonight. "Look, in any other circumstances I'd love to make a date with you."

She frowned. "But?"

God, he hated disappointing her. "But I'm only here a short time and I've got some things I've got to do and... it's just not a good time for me to go out with somebody."

She forced a smile. "If you ever come back this way, I'm here every week."

He smiled back. "I'll keep that in mind."

She returned to her laundry and no longer looked their way. Jim reappeared and he didn't look very happy with Blair, either.

As they gathered their newly laundered clothing, it occurred to Blair that maybe he was being selfish. He and Jim were together twenty-four hours a day and maybe Jim would appreciate a few hour's break from him.

Well, there was nothing he could do about that now... was there?

After they left, he still wondered if maybe he should go back and tell her he'd changed his mind. As he and Jim walked the three blocks to their motel, he got aroused as he considered how perfect it would feel being with her.

And worrying about Jim the whole time.

There really wouldn't be any reason to worry, he decided. Other than the itching from his burns, Jim was completely healed.

And other than his senses having evaporated....

And other than he couldn't get it up (and didn't even seem to care).

Blair glanced at Jim beside him. Just how healthy are you, Jim?

Jim still had a mellowness about him. His usual assertive, authoritative behavior had yet to make an appearance. He seemed... content... in a way he never had before.

Blair didn't know whether to be happy or worried about that.

What he did know was that Jim wasn't the same Jim he'd come to know and love.

And maybe Jim would never be that Jim again, especially if his senses didn't come back.

Yet, he could love this Jim, too. Did love this Jim.

He just plain loved Jim a whole lot, no matter what side of himself he was showing.

So, he shouldn't feel in any way worried about leaving Jim to spend an evening with a perky, pretty girl like Mandy.

Except... he didn't really want to. Not really. Sort of. But not really.

Upon reaching their room, Jim opened the door and they both entered the latest in a series of dingy motel lodgings that served as their shelter. They could afford better rooms, but they both seemed to have an unspoken agreement about not splurging the $7500 Simon had left them. It might have to last a long time, especially if they somehow lost contact with Simon and weren't able to obtain any financial reinforcement.

Jim took their clean clothes out of the plastic bag he held and separated them between Blair's suitcase and his own.

Blair wondered if they should try to catch a movie. They'd been doing a lot of that lately. Sometimes, while on the road, they stopped to see various historical sites. Or they stopped at interesting-looking places and took short hikes. They had talked about going fishing, but it would mean buying gear and that was hardly a priority with their finite savings.

Jim finished the sorting. Blair turned away from him and stepped toward the window to look out at the evening lights. "I'm really not up to another night of sitting here, watching TV."

"You should have gone with Mandy," Jim said, coming up behind Blair and wrapping his arms around his upper body.

"If I'd wanted to I would have." Blair wondered why Jim's arms felt so possessive.

Jim's arms tightened and his cheek pressed next to Blair's.

Jim, man, you're not helping my frustration level.

Jim made a low rumble in his throat and his hand drifted down Blair's torso, pressing.

"Jim," Blair warned, making a half-hearted attempt to twist away.

"Relax," said the warm, gentle voice in his ear, while Jim's other hand held him steady.

Blair stilled. As the hand rubbed in a slow circle along his belly, he realized that he should have escaped when he could.

"I'm - " Blair said breathlessly, helpless to prevent his response.

"It's all right," Jim soothed. Then, so soft, "Re-laax."

Jim's hand moved firmly over Blair's groin.

Blair gasped, collapsing back against Jim, boneless except for the very center of his body. "Oh, God."

"Over here," Jim whispered.

Blair was being pulled back. He stumbled, trying to keep up, while his groin throbbed from the loss of contact.

Then he was on a bed, lying against Jim, who had to be against the headboard, because he felt so solid against Blair's back.

Jim's hand returned, rolling over his hardness, then brushing up to his snap. Parting it, forcing down his zipper...

...inside my underwear....

Grasping him. Squeezing like it knew just how a man liked to be touched.

Of course it does.

Stroking. Stroking. The grip so firm and sure.

Dry lips brushed against Blair's forehead. "Let yourself enjoy it," they whispered against his skin.

Blair quivered and spread his legs. His jeans were loose, that big hand having forced them away from his skin in its quest to possess him.

It felt so good.

Fingers on his balls... feeling....

Sure grip pulling up his shaft....

Another hand lifting his shirt....

Blair cried out, eyes slit in a daze as he felt the explosion from the center of his body.

He let it happen...let himself drift....

Lips kissed him. Gently. Sweetly. Down the side of his face.

Nobody had ever kissed him like that before.

The hand was resting on his leg now. Blair didn't want to look down. He knew he was semi-reclining on a bed against Jim, his pants undone, his legs spread, cream on his bare belly. His moist, limp cock against his thigh.

He closed his eyes and turned his head to rest his cheek against Jim's chest.

This felt better than looking.

Even as he drifted, he realized his hand was against Jim's thigh. He moved it slowly along there... enticingly.

His eyes opened when he remembered that Jim couldn't respond.

"It's okay," Jim whispered, as though reading his mind. He wrapped both arms loosely around Blair.

How could I have even thought of going with whatshername?

A light kiss was placed against the corner of Blair's mouth.

He turned his head to accommodate.

Lips met his and pressed.

Not hot. Not searing. Just loving.

Blair reached up and rested his hand on Jim's cheek. "Is there anything I can do for you?" His eyes were still mostly closed.

Jim's forehead touched his.

Jim's hand rubbed along his chest. "You've done everything for me. Just now. By letting me do this."

Blair decided he was in too much post-coital bliss to decipher those words. He drifted a while longer, aware of Jim doing something with the bedclothes. And then he felt starched cotton wipe at the puddle on his belly.

He grunted contently and fell into a semi-sleep.

He whimpered when Jim moved out from behind him and made little effort to assist when Jim undressed him. He smiled inwardly - and maybe outwardly - when all the lights in the room went out.

He heard gruff voices down the hall and thought We live in motels in little hick towns in Idaho.

Jim's warm, naked body got into bed beside him and he decided that living in motels - especially in hick towns in a state few people visited - was a wonderful thing.

I'm sleeping in Jim's bed and Jim is sleeping here, too. Right here beside me. I have no clothes on and it's still nice and warm because Jim is here, even though he doesn't have any clothes on, either.

All was perfect and wonderful.

When Blair's eyes opened it was to complete darkness, save the dim street light that shone through the curtains.

His eyes sought the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 3:32 AM.

He was wide-awake now because he'd gone to sleep so early. After Jim had....

"You okay?" came the drowsy voice behind him.

Blair realized he was spooned against Jim. He was naked. The back of his calf was against Jim's bare leg. Jim hadn't been wearing underwear since his rescue.

Jim was naked, too.

Blair found the hand that was resting against his side and brought it around to his stomach. He patted it. "I'm fine," he said, his voice coming out softer than he'd intended.

"You sure?" Jim sounded more awake now.

As much as he hated to disturb the perfection of his position, Blair rolled over onto his back, and then onto his other side to face Jim. As he did so, he realized that he should be careful about brushing against Jim, since they both were nude.

Then he remembered that Jim couldn't feel desire.

That made him remember that Jim was still healing - all the more reason to make sure he didn't accidentally touch him in a delicate place.

But it was impossible not to touch him when they were lying so close together.

Blair tried to keep his lower body away, but moved his upper body close enough to lay his head on Jim's chest, facing away from him. If Jim didn't want that kind of contact, he'd let him know.

Jim's arm came around him and began slowly stroking Blair's hair.

Blair's eyes watered. He had no idea why.

He needed to start a conversation but he didn't know how. He decided to go for humor, even though it was inevitable that it was going to fall flat. "Do you wish I'd gone with that girl tonight?"

The hand stopped stroking and rested on Blair's bare back, beneath the covers. "Only if you wish you would have. I want for you whatever you want."

Blair closed his eyes. His swallow sounded loud in the quiet of the room. "I didn't want to go with her then. And I certainly don't wish I'd gone with her now." He turned his head to face Jim. "I only want to be with you."

He couldn't see Jim's expression in the darkness. He realized that Jim couldn't see his either, since he was no longer a sentinel.

"You are with me." Jim's hand landed on the top of Blair's head. Then it moved to trickle down his cheek, rub gently along his jaw.

Blair could no longer be merely a recipient. He scrambled up to his knees, straddled Jim, and leaned in for kiss.

As before, it was full, searching, and loving.

With this closeness, Blair knew he shouldn't be afraid of expressing what he was thinking. "Do you really not feel anything... farther down?"

He could see Jim shake his head. "No, not there." He leaned close to Blair again. "But everywhere else."

"What can I do for you?"

Jim kissed him a couple of times. "Rub. Scratch. Let me pleasure you."

Blair felt a sense of wonder on the last. He reached up to Jim's head and stroked it. "When I wash your hair...." It occurred to him that now that Jim lacked sentinel senses, he seemed so... sensitive. "Do you think it could be like a blind man whose other senses become more aware, because he's missing the one? That because you don't feel anything sexually, you physically feel everything else more profoundly?"

"I don't know," Jim said in a tone that indicated he didn't care about the explanations. Then, more softly, "I just know that I like touching you and being touched by you. Being with you." He kissed Blair's cheek.

Blair slipped to one side, putting his arms around Jim's waist and snuggling against him. He rubbed his cheek against Jim's chest and freed one of his hands to drift across Jim's stomach... his pubic region.

"Do you mind if I touch you?" he whispered. "Where the burns are?"

Jim's reply held a hint of humor. "You've been handling me ever since you found me. I don't think there's any reason to be shy at this point." Then, subdued, "I'm not going to respond like you want."

"I'm not looking for you to respond. I just want to do anything I can to make you feel good." His fingers moved down and he felt the first blister just where the pubic region ended. He rubbed it... very gently, wanting to soothe the itching that Jim suffered from.

"Umm," Jim said, relaxing. "That does feel better. Too bad you don't have a few dozen fingers to do all of them at once."

"No, but...." Blair grasped Jim's limp shaft. He gently ran his hand along it, feeling the various healing blisters next to his palm and fingers.

He liked that Jim let him do this. Yet... "I probably shouldn't keep this up, because the blisters might loosen. It would be the same as picking at them. How about I put the cream on them?"

"It's right here," Jim said, reaching for the tube and handing it to Blair.

Blair applied the ointment, going by feel.

There were so many. His voice was gruff when he said, "I want them to get Baldy for this. He had no right...."

Jim's hand settled on his shoulder and squeezed. "It's over now, Chief."

"All the stress you were under," Blair said sadly, as he continued to apply the ointment, "from making sure you kept your senses in check... and to have to deal with the pain of being burned while trying to make sure you didn't show too much pain or too much control." Blair paused, swallowing thickly. "And then having to survive out in the wilderness. No wonder you were so exhausted when we found you."

Jim's voice sounded fragile. "You did find me."

Blair applied a thick stream of ointment along Jim's inner thigh, where there were more burns. Then he capped the tube, set it aside, and snuggled against Jim, pulling the covers over them both as they lay down.

"Do you remember us finding you?" he wondered.

"Yes." Jim stroked Blair's back. "I'm not saying I was fully aware. I just remember that you were suddenly there." He hesitated. "I knew I could let go then. Exhausted doesn't even begin to cover it. It's like I'd been stretched like a rubber band and lost the ability to snap back."

Blair considered the mental image. "Maybe that's what happened to your senses, huh? They got so over-used that they were... fried, I guess. Maybe they'll come back."

He felt Jim shrug. "I don't know, Chief. I don't really care, you know."

"I know."

"They've been a great benefit at times - especially when I had to survive those couple of days in the Cascades - but they've also had their down side, as you well know."

Blair shifted to put his arms around Jim's neck. "I love you. Any way I can have you."

Jim's arms circled around Blair's waist. "You have me, as long as my having you is part of you having me."

Blair closed his eyes, whispering, "Yeah, I think all those 'having' parts fit together just fine."

They slept for a few hours more.

When Blair woke at dawn, it was to the sensation of arousal. Jim was beside him, head propped in one hand, his other hand stroking along Blair's erection.

"Oh, man," Blair said in a breathy whisper.

Jim smiled at him as his hand continued to stroke. "You know the great thing about being on the run and having no responsibilities?"

It took Blair a moment to become coherent enough to decipher the question. He mumbled, "No, what?" He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes, spreading his legs.

"I can pleasure you without interruption for days on end."

Blair orgasmed.

Hours later, between rotations of ejaculating and sleeping, Blair lay blissfully against Jim's shoulder. He murmured, "It doesn't seem right - you doing such wonderful things to me when I can't do those same things to you." They were past the manual stimulation. Jim had given him a slow, languishing, self-taught blow job.

"You are doing a lot for me," Jim replied, his lips brushing against Blair's forehead. "Pleasing you makes me feel powerful."

Blair didn't question it again.

In the summer dusk they walked along Main Street, browsing in front of the shop windows, most of which were closed. They did find an open hamburger stand and ordered dinner.

Blair watched as Jim reached for straws and packets of condiments.

One of those ten fingers had known him intimately. It had been inside his body.

Blair wasn't even sure how it had happened. He'd just known that during their last session of lovemaking, Jim had been sucking his cock in between moments of stroking him and playing with his balls. Then he'd stroked his asshole. Just stroked it. Teased it until suddenly Blair went from feeling indifferent about the touch to feeling highly stimulated. He remembered quivering all over and Jim taking his cock back into his mouth.

Then a finger had pushed inside of him. All the way, breaching his tightness. Even though there had been a discomfort associated with it, he hardly noticed while his cock was being orally milked. And then the finger had wriggled and he remembered coming all over the place... except he'd had hardly any come left.

He wondered if finger-fucking was going to be part of their regular activities.

When Blair wasn't being made love to, he made love to Jim. He washed Jim's hair on a daily basis. When they watched TV he rubbed Jim's feet. Or scratched his back. Or massaged his butt.

The burns had shrunk to tiny blisters. They didn't bother Jim anymore. Nor did that area respond to any of Blair's loving ministrations.

The third week after they had left Washington, they were in Helena, Montana. Simon flew in to meet with them.

As they left the airport, Simon said, "Hey, you two are looking good. I would have thought you'd both be sick of each other by now and looking a bit haggard."

"We're both pretty adaptable," Blair said.

But Simon's statement did give him pause. If they were back home, would he and Jim be doing what they were doing now? For that matter, would they continue what they were doing if and when they returned home?

He couldn't imagine going back to being merely good friends. It wasn't what he wanted. Jim had said, "What you want is what I want."

Remembering that statement, Blair smiled.

They went to a restaurant for lunch and requested a circular booth in a corner.

"I'm making progress," Simon said with a sigh, "but it's slow."

"It's the army way," Jim said.

"That doesn't make it any easier. General Townsend is taking me seriously but he's running into roadblocks himself. Certain departments are off limits to all other military personnel, most especially the testing labs. He's throwing his weight around as well as he can to get somebody to 'fess up to the fact that they took you - let alone what they did - but he's probably going to have to find somebody even higher than himself to get involved. What's more, he wants to be careful about who he trusts. He doesn't want to make anything any harder for you, Jim."

Jim nodded. "I appreciate it."

Simon salted his food and looked uncomfortable for a moment. Then he said, "I showed him the pictures of your burns."

No, Blair thought. But Jim merely nodded again, resigned.

"I needed to make sure he understood what had been done to you. He looked appalled."

"It's okay, Simon," Jim said softly.

Blair looked at Jim and didn't look at Simon. He could understand the necessity for the evidence, but still....

After eating in silence a few moments, Simon said, "One thing the General did find out is that the military found the cabin. It's a good thing you didn't stay there longer than you did."

Blair slowly shook his head, the injustice of it all coming back full-force. "If they know he isn't a sentinel then how can they keep hunting him? Do they want to kill him that badly?"

Simon quietly said, "It's possible that the search may have been called off by now. General Townsend seemed to think that it had, but he couldn't find any way to prove it."

Blair tried to find some relief at that. But without the absolute certainty he and Jim couldn't afford to let their guard down.

"Anyway," Simon said, reaching into the duffel bag he'd brought in with him, "I've got some stuff from Jim's father." He produced some envelopes and lowered his voice. "There's three different debit cards, each under one of Jim's bogus names, all to different accounts. Each account has ten grand in it. Rotate the use of the debit cards so even if someone is tracking one of them there won't be as much of a pattern. Once the money is used up in each account, he'll close it down. Of course, he'll set up more, if necessary. They all have the same PIN number, which is inside. So, in addition to withdrawing cash, you can check the balance at any time. This way, at least, you won't have to carry around so much cash."

Wow, Blair thought, looking at Jim and realizing how worried his father must be to want to help them out like this.

Jim took charge of the envelopes. "Thanks, Simon."

Simon smiled. "He seemed concerned that you were eating good, sleeping good, and traveling in a good vehicle."

Blair got the hint and assumed Jim did, too. Jim's father wouldn't approve of them sleeping in the cheap motels they were staying at. Now that comfort was more important for their bedroom activities, and they had access to a lot more money, Blair hoped Jim would be agreeable to staying at places of a higher level of quality.

Simon's plane was due to depart that same day. Blair was puzzled when Jim told him to drive, since Jim was doing a lot of the driving now. He understood - partially - when he stopped at a light downtown and Jim said, "Chief, let me out here. I need to pick up some things. I'll be right here after you drop Simon off."

Blair had no idea what things Jim thought they needed. "Okay," he said evenly, reluctant to let Simon know how puzzled he was. He also felt an unease at the idea of their being separated.

Jim turned to squeeze Simon's shoulder. "Thanks, man. For everything."

"Sure thing." Simon squeezed his hand.

Jim got out of the car. Before closing the door, he said to Blair, "Chief, note the cross streets." He indicated the street signs.

Oh, good idea.

"I'll be waiting," Jim said.

"I'll be here."

As Blair continued the trip to the airport, Simon asked, "How's he doing, Blair?"

"The burns are all healed now."

Simon nodded and seemed to expect more.

"His senses haven't shown any sign of coming back. But he seems fine, really. No nightmares or anything."

Simon turned to look at him. "What aren't you telling me?"

Blair felt a wall of resistance. He knew the obvious thing that was different about Jim; yet, listing it as a symptom of "how he is" made it seem like there was something wrong with him. Which there wasn't.

Yet, after all Simon had done for them, he deserved an answer to his question.

"He's still got that mellow air about him." And he's impotent. "He's so... calm... about everything. Never complains." And the way he makes love to me.... He's so loving, Simon. He was always affectionate but there's a more intense edge to it now.

"I guess that's not a bad thing," Simon finally said when Blair didn't elaborate.

As long as we aren't fighting criminals, Blair decided. Maybe that was the difference. This Jim was so easy to be around. But if their safety was threatened, Blair would feel a lot more optimistic about their getting out of the scrape alive with the old Jim - even the old Jim without his senses.

It makes me feel powerful, Jim had said of his need to pleasure Blair. Did that mean he was aware of the "power" - even beyond that of his sentinel senses - that he had lost and pleasuring Blair was the only way he felt he had control of his life, of his circumstances? And if so, did that mean if the old Jim ever re-emerged, he would no longer need to make love to Blair?

Blair's stomach twisted at the thought, but then he soothed himself with the assurance that there was no way Jim would just up and throw away the physical expression of their love, any more than Blair would. It was too special.

Simon snorted, "If I didn't know better, I'd say that life on the road is agreeing with you two. How do you keep yourselves busy?"

Blair kept his tone as casual as he could possibly manage. "We exercise a lot to keep from getting restless."

He wasn't sure if Simon believed him. He didn't care.

"You can just drop me off," Simon said as they entered the airport grounds. "You shouldn't keep Jim waiting."

As Blair followed the airport signs, he considered what Simon had said about how agreeable life on the road was to himself and Jim. He missed his laptop. He missed the kitchen at the loft, the easy feeling of "home". Yet, after the first few days of adjustment, he realized that he no longer felt displaced. He was with Jim and Jim was home. Everything else about their lives was just peripheral and really didn't matter. Besides, he hadn't had any particular goal he'd been working toward after the press conference. He'd been content to hang around with Jim until something else came along that made sense as a job or career.

Now, he was still hanging out with Jim and he couldn't imagine anything being more important than that.

When it got down to it, he really didn't miss Cascade and the loft all that much.

Besides, he had Jim all to himself.

After dropping Simon off, Blair returned to the intersection where he had left Jim. Jim was there, his hand clutched around an array of bags.

Blair grinned at the thought that, even though he hadn't been gone an hour, Jim had made very efficient use of his time.

Blair didn't ask him what he'd bought. Instead, when Jim went into the bathroom after they got back to their motel, Blair started rummaging through the sacks. There was a new pair of jeans for them both, some T-shirts, some snacks that they both liked, some razors....

And one sack had three vibrators of various sizes.

Blair shook his head back and forth. Jim, man. To think that, when Simon had handed over the debit cards with access to $30,000 in cash, Jim had been thinking about buying this stuff.

To use on him.

Blair wasn't sure how he felt about it. He was relieved that the devices were vibrators and not strap-on dildos. He couldn't stand the thought of Jim using some latex device as a replacement for his own unresponsive organ.

But the vibrators... maybe Jim just intended those to be something bigger than his fingers. Blair wasn't sure that they'd necessarily be more satisfying. He liked what Jim did with his fingers. He liked knowing that it was Jim creating those titillating sensations within him.

Jim came out of the bathroom, drying his hands. "I see you found the toys."

Blair grinned bashfully. "Yeah." So far, honesty had served them both well. "I'm willing to try anything, Jim. But just don't be thinking that I want any of this stuff as a substitute for you."

"I just meant it as... an enhancement to what we already do."

Blair was glad that was all it was. He glanced around the dingy room, suddenly finding it oppressive. "How about we get a decent room for tonight?"

"Sure."

"One with a little kitchen," Blair decided. "I think what I miss most right now is a home-cooked meal."

"Sounds good."

The motel room they got wasn't overly expensive, but it was modern, clean, had a kitchenette, and they were up on the third floor. A broader view of the city seemed to make a world of difference to the pleasure of being in their room.

They went all out at the nearest grocery store and returned to their room to make a full meal of baked chicken, green beans, corn on the cob, and a salad.

They'd eaten on paperware but left the serving and baking dishes in the sink to soak. Then Jim took Blair into the shower, which was their usual ritual before sex.

Blair's cock was as hard as it had ever been.

He was on all fours on the bed, waiting to see what Jim was going to do to him. Jim had spent an extra long time soaping his private areas during their shower. But the toys were still in their sack and had yet to make an appearance.

It was the not knowing what was going to happen to him that was such a turn-on.

Jim's hand rubbed along his asscheek. Then it probed between his legs and cupped his balls.

God.

The pouch was rolled... massaged....

Oh, Jesus God.

Fluid dribbled out the tip of his cock.

A finger landed on his asshole. It brushed against his opening. Light stroke up... down...

More. Blair spread his legs wider. The finger stroked again and goosebumps exploded over his flesh. Oh, Jesus, please.

The bed shifted behind him. A finger ran along the seam of his nuts. More fingers joined in and he was scratched there.

Man. His chest heaved for breath.

Touch my cock.

More rocking of the mattress. Blair hung his head, his eyes closed, waiting to be finished off.

Warm moistness touched the back of his balls. A finger probed at his anus.

Blair groaned and let his upper body collapse to the mattress. I'm dying here, Jim.

The tongue continued to wash him. The finger prodded, threatening to know him intimately.

Put your mouth on my cock, man.

The tongue moved backward, to his perineum. It tried to push against him there.

Oh, man! It was like a tiny electrical current.

The fingers moved away and his buttocks were massaged in large, kneading hands.

Oh, yes. Oh, yes.

The bed rocked again. His cheeks were gripped low, and then something new touched his center.

It was soft... moist....

Oh jeezus fuck!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

His second thought was that he had to tell Jim not to do that... that he didn't have to.

The tongue paused, then probed at him slowly... deliberately....

"Oh, my God!" Blair choked out.

His whole lower body quivered and he spread his legs yet wider.

The hands gripped him harder, as though to hold him still.

Wet, smacking tongue now. Short, quick strokes right along the rim of his asshole.

Blair bucked, making Jim lose his grip. He cried out, hearing the sob in his voice.

Jim gripped his cock from behind. And stroked.

Blair came.

After the spurting was over, he found himself on his back, his knees drawn up. He lay panting, only vaguely conscious.

Jim was standing beside the bed. From the corner of his eye, Blair saw the look of satisfaction on his face - that he'd created this pleasure for Blair.

Jim wiped his mouth and moved to the sack where the toys were.

I can't take any more. He's going to kill me.

And then Jim would revive him and do it again.

While they ate a very late lunch at a Subway a few days later, Blair considered that maybe he was revisiting adolescence. All he seemed to think about these days was sex. That is, when he wasn'thaving sex.

Their sessions were getting longer. Jim dragged them out more. Blair had learned not to get so desperate to come, because even more titillation was always on the horizon. Sometimes, he came only once at the end of a session but it was a doozy. And the getting there was way beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

When he and Jim left their motel room, Blair might go for a whole hour without thinking about sex much. But then his mind would inevitably drift back to the sensations he had recently experienced. Turned out, the toys were okay. Maybe more than okay. Jim had gotten good at using them. He started small and worked up to the largest one. Jim was so gradual and careful about it that the insertions never hurt. Blair had to admit that he liked the stretching sensation the vibrators gave him. And then when Jim would spin them around....

Blair looked at the plant hanging from the ceiling and tried to focus on appreciating the colors.

I'm an addict. A slut of wanton pleasure.

But then, he supposed, Jim was too. And if spending their days wrapped in their own brand of lovemaking was good enough for Jim....

"Want to see a movie?" Jim asked, sitting across from him with a newspaper.

"Sure." Blair wondered if, after the movie was over, they might actually go to sleep afterwards without having sex first. It wasn't that he had a preference; it was just that he was curious if it were possible. "What's playing?"

"There's a big twelve-theater cinema house about a mile away. Let's go there and see what looks good."

"Okay."

They decided to walk, as it would probably still be warm when the movie got out and they both had come to enjoy opportunities to stretch their legs. They ended up seeing two features and it was dark when they left.

"This way might be faster," Jim said, abandoning the main street and turning down a sparsely lit alley.

But not as safe, Blair thought. Jim's arm went around his shoulders and Blair then understood why Jim hadn't wanted to take a populated street.

Blair circled his arm around Jim's waist and enjoyed the feeling of their both being entwined with each other.

"Think we should move on tomorrow?" Jim asked. They'd been in Helena for six days - longer than they'd stayed anywhere.

"I'm not sure it's really all that necessary. But by the same token, it's not like there's much here to do."

"Maybe we should find some out-of-the-way place to go fishing. We can afford to spend a little on gear. It'll be a good investment because we can keep using it. Maybe we'll even want to rough it for a few days. There ought to be plenty of unpopulated places out this way, even though it's the tourist season."

"I'm up for anything," Blair said, feeling upbeat about their plans. Their lives of hiding hadn't been so bad. It was just the principle of the thing - that they had to hide.

Jim's pace slowed. "Shh." He frowned. "Hear that?"

Blair listened. In the far distance, a few blocks over, he thought he heard the sound of shouted voices.

This wasn't a residential area but a business district.

Jim moved a couple of steps away from Blair and cocked his head.

Blair's mouth fell open at the familiar gesture. He couldn't hear anything else.

"Somebody's about to get the shit beat out of them. Come on!" Jim darted off at a run.

His senses are back!

Blair's heart beat with excitement, propelling him to keep pace with Jim's long strides.

After crossing one alley and approaching another, Jim slowed and held out his arm to Blair in a warning gesture. "Stay back, Chief. Stay behind me."

Jim's senses are back!

Jim is back!

As Jim moved cautiously forward, he reached to the middle of his back.

Oh, no! Jim didn't have a gun. The army had taken all the possessions on his person and Simon - and Jim - had apparently not given any thought to replacing it.

Jim snarled a "shit" as his hand encountered empty air.

Blair started to suggest that they call the police but Jim had his arm out again in a blocking gesture. "Stay behind me." His expression was hard and not one to tolerate any argument.

Blair nodded to reassure Jim that he'd stay out of the way.

But what can he do?

The voices were loud now, probably just around the corner. There was the sound of fist impacting flesh, resulting in a sharp groan.

Jim was at the corner of the alley. He raised himself up to his full height and stepped around it. "What's going on?" he said in a deep, authoritative tone.

There was a pause. Blair, while staying well behind Jim, also stepped around the corner so he could see.

"Who the fuck's asking?" said a young voice.

"Somebody who's going to kick both your asses unless you hightail it out of here." Jim jerked his thumb. "GO!"

The two assailants looked at each other. A man nearby was on his knees, his arms around his middle.

Blair took out their cell phone from his jacket pocket. He held it up, glad they were near a light on one of the buildings. "The cops are on the way."

The two young men looked at each other again and took a few steps backward. Then they turned and started running.

All right!

"Good one, Chief," Jim said, going toward the fallen man.

Blair broke into a jog to catch up.

"Hey, there," Jim said as he knelt down in front of the man.

"I'll get an ambulance," Blair said, as he punched the phone on. As soon as it lit up he dialed 911.

"I don't think I need an ambulance," the man said, though his voice was tight with pain.

"It won't hurt to make sure."

Blair gave the 911 operator directions as best he could, counting alleys from the theater.

As Blair put the phone away, the man looked up. He mouth was bleeding and his left eye squinted. "Who are you?"

Jim laid a hand on his shoulder. "Just a couple of moviegoers who happened to hear the ruckus."

The man swallowed. "They would have killed me."

"Yeah, that was a wicked-looking knife they had."

Blair hadn't seen a knife. It was too dark.

Yes, his sight is back, too! Surely taste, touch and smell, as well.

The man looked like he was trying to stand.

Blair knelt at his other side and also put a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you stay right where you are until the ambulance gets here."

"Yeah, sit down and stretch your legs out." Jim gently pushed the man back until he was sitting on the ground instead of his haunches.

"You guys from out of town?" the man asked, one hand probing his eye.

"Yeah," Blair said. "And we need to get going soon. But we'll stay with you until the ambulance gets here." Apologetically, he added, "It might be a while. I really wasn't sure where we are but I gave them the name of the theater nearby."

"I hear the siren," Jim said.

Blair didn't. He looked at Jim directly but Jim wouldn't meet his eye.

Yep, Blair thought happily, this is the old Jim.

It was a few more minutes until the ambulance found them, with Blair standing at the corner of the alley to catch their attention with a wave.

"Good luck," Jim said, standing as the paramedics got out their supplies.

"How can I repay you?" the man asked.

"You're safe," Jim said as he and Blair began walking back down the alley. "That's payment enough."

Blair swallowed. My sentinel.

They were silent as they continued their shortcut through dark alleys.

The scientist in Blair was in non-stop motion within his brain.

What brought them back?

Jim's senses had last made an appearance when Blair and Simon had found him near the cabin. And then they were gone, presumably because they were either "fried" from over-use, or because Jim had subconsciously submerged them because they had been the reason for all of his pain.

They'd remained absent for just over a month now. Until a few minutes ago. They had seemed to come back when...

Jim heard the sounds of a fight brewing in the alley. Someone needed him.

The sentinel protects the tribe.

This whole past month... nobody needed him? So he didn't need his senses?

Blair himself was the one who had done the caretaking because Jim was the one in need. Then after he was healed, nobody had needed his protection.

Until now. An innocent was in trouble, and I was with Jim so he also had to make sure I stayed out of the way and didn't get hurt.

Since Jim's senses hadn't been available to him, they had to have been repressed to some degree. But maybe they hadn't been repressed that deeply; but only enough to give Jim the peace to recover from his ordeal. But once Jim had needed them tonight...

They were right there for him.

Filled with pride, Blair looked back up at Jim.

Jim was looking straight ahead and now walked faster, getting a little ahead of Blair.

Gone was the affectionate arm that had been around Blair's shoulders.

Blair tried not to feel trepidation. What else between us is gone?

Maybe he was being too pessimistic. Maybe Jim just needed some space for himself to adjust again to the heightened level of his senses. It was dark and quiet; maybe he'd be in pain if there were more outer stimulation.

I have to give him space, Blair decided. That was something I'd never been willing to do before. But he's outright told me how much he appreciated it when he was recovering - that I let him have that peace.

They arrived at the motel. Jim unlocked the hall door with his key and then proceeded into the building. The door would have closed behind him had Blair not reached to grab it.

Never was the most polite guy on the planet. Yet, there had been moments of incredible politeness in their years together. Blair felt choked at the memory of how many times Jim had gotten his coat for him. Such a stupid, simple thing. But so thoughtful. Hardly your typical macho guy behavior.

As Jim led the way up the stairs to the third floor, Blair realized that tension was radiating from him.

Is he sorry his senses are back? Does he hate them that much? Blair didn't see how that was possible. Surely, Jim wasn't sorry that his sense of hearing had alerted him that the man in the alley was in trouble.

Jim unlocked the door to their room. This time, he left it open while he disappeared past it, turning on a small lamp to the lowest setting.

Blair entered and closed the door behind him.

A hand on his chest slammed him back against the wall.

Blair gasped, heart racing, as his mind pulled up a memory of when he and Jim had first met at Rainier all those years ago.

Jim was looking at Blair with fierce eyes.

What's going on?

Jim's breath was harsh. Blair could feel the hand quivering through his double layer of shirts.

Realization hit him: He's aroused.

That fact would have thrilled him except....

Jim's eyes told of some inner battle within himself.

Let me help you.

It was a moment before Blair could find his voice. "Jim...." He reached out.

Jim snarled and his other hand came up to grip Blair's reaching hand and press it back against the wall.

"Easy, easy," Blair said softly. "Tell me what's going on."

In the silence that answered he was aware of his own erection pressing uncomfortably against the front of his jeans. "Take what you need."

Jim made a lustful noise. The hand pinning Blair's wrist now gripped his throat. It didn't press, but just held him still.

Hot, searing lips devoured him. The hand on his chest went down to his groin and squeezed.

Blair tried to cry out but was restrained by Jim's mouth.

His knees were weak. His legs began to crumble.

I'm dying....

The best feelings went away. Hands now gripped both his shoulders and hauled him back to his feet.

Jim was breathing harsh and loud. "If I claim you as mine," his gruff voice forced out, "you can never be with another. Ever."

W-What?

Claim?

Blair quivered all over.

"Never be with another." Always with Jim. Always.

He knees felt weak again. It felt as though he was perched on the edge of a cliff, on the verge of falling over.

He looked into Jim's yearning eyes.

He pressed himself back against the wall, arms away from his body, his legs spread. "Claim me."

He spared a moment to acknowledge that this was the peak experience of his entire life.

His cock throbbed in agreement, shifting in a vain attempt to find its freedom.

Jim's eyes deepened before him. Then he grabbed Blair's jacket and pulled the open flaps apart. He next grabbed Blair's shirt and tore it open.

Buttons went flying.

Oh my God. Blair wasn't sure if he was breathing hard enough to take in air.

Both hands came up and grabbed the neck of his T-shirt.

Oh God.

Blair meant to close his eyes but they were focused on the intense expression on Jim's face.

He felt pressure at the back of his neck, then release as the tearing of the cotton sounded loudly in the room.

Jim growled low in his throat, his hand going to Blair's stomach. He pressed as he rubbed upward, as though feeling the texture of the hairs.

Blair closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the wall. His knees were failing him again and he was sinking... sinking...

Now scooped up. He landed on the bed with enough force to make it rock.

Jim was making more guttural noises as he roughly pulled Blair's shoes from his feet, having no patience with laces.

Propped up on his elbows, Blair wriggled each arm in turn, ridding them of his jacket, and then the ripped shirts.

He lay back, for Jim had opened his jeans and was pulling them from his legs. Blair shifted as necessary to free them from his hips. His underwear started to get left behind and he pushed on them.

Jim grabbed the shorts in one large hand and pulled them down Blair's legs. They were off a moment later.

He was naked - on his back in the middle of the bed, completely vulnerable.

His cock bobbed along his stomach.

He spread his legs.

He looked up at Jim.

Jim's eyes were on Blair's stout erection as he removed his shirt. Bare-chested, he collapsed between Blair's legs and pressed his face against his balls. And inhaled.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

The vibration from Jim's exhaling breath was unlike anything Blair had ever felt before.

Jim grasped Blair's hips. He raised up and then bent to put his mouth over Blair's hardness.

Blair came. And came.

He knew he was making primitive sounds of his own. And then he was left gasping.

Jim stepped back from the bed. He removed the rest of his clothing.

Blair was still floating in the afterglow but he didn't miss the unveiling. God, he's big.

Jim turned and slapped off the light.

Another throb went through Blair's groin but his bloodstream wouldn't cooperate.

In the darkness, he listened to his own panting. He could barely see Jim's outline at the foot of the bed.

He spread his legs again to show his willingness. He had a better idea and reached blindly for the nightstand.

The digital clock fell to the floor with a crash. Then Blair's fingers felt the tube of lubricant.

Hands shaking, he squeezed a generous gob across his fingers. Then he applied it to his opening.

As he did so, he thought of how Jim had done this for him in the past, to prepare him for the vibrators.

They weren't "toys", he realized now. They were preparing me for him all along. I could never handle him without all that prior practice.

The scientist in him was full of questions.

The man in him wanted Jim. Only Jim. To know Jim as he never had before.

Blair threw the tube to the floor and wiped his fingers across the bedspread.

Jim hadn't moved. Blair still couldn't make out his expression. But he thought he saw Jim's eyes and focused his own there. "Claim me as yours, sentinel."

The bed rocked as Jim mounted it. He pushed Blair's legs farther apart and then grabbed him by the rear. Blair ended up in the awkward position of his ass resting on Jim's thighs.

He wished he could see Jim's cock as it prepared to take possession of him.

Instead, he focused on the feel of the hands that sought a better grip. Then he felt pressure at his center. It increased.

Blair released a breath as he waited for the pain to hit.

It was more the pressure of stretching than actual pain. And then his tightness gave way and Jim was suddenly deep inside him.

Oh, God, yes. He released another breath, closing his eyes.

Then his body was almost doubled back and a hot mouth was on his, Jim's weight on top of him.

Blair brought his hands up to Jim's back and dug his nails in.

Jim bit down on Blair's lip, then released it and began thrusting in earnest, his face buried in Blair's neck.

Oh, dear, God, Blair thought in tune to the powerful thrusts. Oh, yes, God.

He felt a trickle of warm blood run down his chin.

Jim's cock continued its efforts inside him.

His body was wrapped up in such in tight ball beneath Jim's body that he wasn't sure how much longer he could bear it.

Please, God, let this last forever.

Jim thrust deeper and clutched Blair harder.

Blair's fingers dug in deeper.

Jim suddenly stilled and he released a long, deep, masculine groan.

His weight grew heavy.

And then he seemed boneless, as though the tension was draining away from him.

Blair moved one hand from Jim's sweaty back to his sweaty head. That's my love.

He drifted into unconsciousness.

When he was next aware, it was still dark. Jim slipped to one side of him and Blair rolled onto the opposite side. He managed to free the covers from beneath himself and pull them over on top of them both.

Jim's cheek ended up pressed against his neck.

Then all was still once again.

END PART TWO

PART THREE