Okay, Petfly owns them and they may like them but they don’t loooove them like I do. So I borrow them for a little while and give them back none the worse for wear, well, maybe a little tired and happy. Did this for fun. Nada on the profit and never will have any for loving the guys and having my say.

Thanks to Lyrical Soul for the beta and for pointing me to fan fiction on the net and mostly for inspiring me to write again after such a long dry season. Please note that any errors are not ours. They belong to...Jim!

Oh yeah, there are spoilers for everything.

Cracked

You know the drill, Jim Ellison, bad ass, butt kicking cop. No one gets too close --- no one gets to know the "real" me. To let whoever "they" are, tell it, you should hide before you speak. I could go on all day. For a while, after Carolyn and I split, maybe it was a little worse than usual. I mean I don’t do sympathy. Of course, she got her share --- after all she was married to me.

I thought I could end loneliness. I thought someone could take me like I am. I was wrong. It wasn’t her fault. She tried to understand, but having someone so close began to feel strange. There wasn’t any space. I couldn’t breath. Got scared, scared I would say something I shouldn’t, things I thought forgotten or never thought I knew. My men haunted the darkness and no amount of begging could make them forgive me. Sometimes making love to her I would start to come apart. So many things to keep locked down, so... Get a grip Ellison, get a grip. But there was nothing to hang onto except Carolyn and I was…terrified. What would she think, seeing how weak I really was? Some hero, crying at her breast after a nightmare. I didn’t…couldn’t tell her, only snatch myself from the dreams and run from the bed. So bad after awhile I stopped…touching her, sleeping next to her, talking at all. The real me just wasn’t strong enough. I knew that as bad as I wanted her I had to make sure she didn’t find out ‘cause then I’d lose her anyway. I remember trying to make it up to her, the way I shut her out, but after awhile it wasn’t enough.

I needed people to stay away, for it to be just us. Maybe I could have worked with that, but Carolyn had family and friends and they were always calling, coming by inviting us to their homes some event or another. I needed quiet when I got home. She couldn’t live like that and I got more and more angry at the intrusions. One night the phone rang one too many times and I ripped it from the wall and threw it over the balcony. She got right in my face. Called me a fuckin’ asshole and walked out. That was the only time she ever cursed at me and it was the last. It was never worth the aggravation to stick with Ellison.

Then my senses "came back" and the only person I could go to was Simon. I hoped he would listen, help me figure out what was happening. I attempt to explain the impossible occurrences calmly but before he’s through I feel ten years old again getting dressed down for some offense I knew nothing about or couldn’t control. How could I be responsible for Stephen getting into trouble when he was at school across town from me? Pull it together Ellison, be a man. How much more man do I have to be? No one pays attention unless I’m yelling and that’s entertainment. No one hears what I’m saying. They are not listening here people!

So…how did he know?

Six years later I still want to know the answer to that one. He knew I needed someone to listen. In the end I fought him with put downs, snubs, ridicule the list is endless. I even…killed him. I don’t care what anyone says. If I had listened to him the way he did to me Alex never would have…

Stop that thought right now Ellison. The only experience in my life that still defies words. When Danny died it hurt like hell, but when he…I just felt myself lose touch. I didn’t scream. I remember pushing people away and yelling at Sandburg. But inside there was this numbness, so heavy, and a distance that stayed long after Alex was locked away.

My apologies are totally inadequate for the shit Sandburg has put up with for me. He lay in the hospital bed staring at me with those sad old eyes and I got mad because he could forgive me. No snubs no ranting.

Just "It’s okay man, its okay." It was not okay. The little shit forgives me everything!

That kind understanding of all things Ellison slipped just a little in Sierra Verde, "I’m fine, but what is wrong with you?"

Because protecting her even overrode "protect the guide, apprehend the suspect," the two directives engraved on a sentinel’s psyche, a cop’s.

Then his mom, God, I could still strangle Naomi for going behind our backs, but Sandburg destroyed all his credibility with that news conference, for me…just for me.

I know there has never been anyone this loyal to me, ever. He gets right in my face when he thinks I’m wrong but allows no one else to question me. He steps right between danger and me---be it words or bullets.

My Guide…my friend.

I knew from the end of that first day at the station Blair would make a good cop, he had the brains anyway, but not the hardness. He had to fight to get us to listen to him most times, but not anymore. Even the Feds come to talk to him now. Witch Doctor, some call him behind his back. But they stop joking around when some wild theory he brings up turns out to solve the case.

Now the loft is overflowing with books, one entire wall is covered and I am putting shelves under the stairs for the reference material he has been collecting ever since his academic career blew up. It took weeks for him to track down the source of some obscure emblem found at the scene of Cascade’s latest psycho killer rampage. Amos Branford was sacrificing people, of all ages for some ritual of power trip only he could understand. I just knew he had to be stopped. Three more weeks of research before Blair found what he needed. By then he was gray faced and gaunt with exhaustion. He found some foul smelling book that he refused to even bring home, thank God, in a run down occult shop and spent that last day pouring over it. I don’t understand what happened next, but a connection of some kind was made.

That night Blair was screaming as if he was being slaughtered. I thought so as I ran down the stairs gun drawn to kill whoever had gotten past my senses to attack my guide. His heart stopped before I hit the bottom step and found him on the floor---contorted, grotesque. I was pushing air into his unresponsive body…muscle and bone resisting every effort to push them back to recognizable shape. Damn damn damn…

When he inhaled, I squeezed the air right back out, and only his hands frantically pulling at my hair made me realize I was killing him myself. But Blair didn’t let go of me all night. Or maybe I didn’t want him to.

The first shades of morning hadn’t appeared in the sky before surveillance was in place where Blair said Amos would bring his next victim. He insisted on going to the site although he seemed barely able to stand.

We waited through the long day. Our best undercover officers mingling with the dockworkers and homeless that wandered the area.

During that time I never let Blair out of my sight. I couldn’t trust my hearing. I had to touch him to be sure he was okay. It was Blessed Protector to the extreme, but Blair never complained, not once. And that scared me more than anything. He sat almost totally unresponsive, eating if you put it in his hand and only answering direct questions about the case. Waiting…

Amos showed up, the potential victim---bound, in plastic garbage bags. The boy was suffocating even as he was to be sacrificed. Blair’s complexion leached from white to translucent, his heartbeat scattering, fluttering, but he ran down the stairs behind me like always. When the madman lashed out, with a machete of all things, Blair shot him, and dropped like a stone. I leaped over the screaming ranting suspect to rip at the plastic covered body on the floor as Rafe and some other officers were handcuffing and dragging the madman out of the warehouse. And suddenly H was beside me tearing away the remaining plastic. I was holding that kid in my arms and breathing into him, breathing breathing…breath…for two…Oh God, for two…

He came up fighting. Tough little guy… I left him with H and the EMT’s. I could hear Simon yelling for medical personnel to help Blair. I got down on my knees and lifted him away from the Captain. I felt his head turn into my shoulder and he whispered my name, a chuff of air against my jacket so soft only a sentinel would feel or hear. His fists knotted at my back. He was shaking so hard I could barely hang on.

"I’ve got you Chief." I hugged him close and rocked him. The EMT’s came over and I dragged him away. I could only shake my head and rock my guide. Simon couldn’t make me let go. Blair needed me, just me. I almost lost him again and this time to something I couldn’t stop with a bullet. This was a new level of terror.

I had to get a grip on my emotions to get my friend home and I couldn’t speak to anyone else about anything else. I picked Blair up and left. I think Simon tried to stop me but frankly I don’t remember or give a damn. Blair told me that once the door was opened it couldn’t be closed again. I thought he meant me, the visions at the fountain...Molly. Just me…

When I opened my eyes the sun was still up and we were on the couch, wrapped around each other. One of his thick russet curls was…white. White, the sunlight shining through the balcony doors reflected it right into my eyes…zone white. Blair’s harsh whisper pulled me back and I dragged his limp body to the bathroom and held him up to the mirror with palsied hands. He stared a long time and then tears dribbled down his face to drip off his chin. I listened to each drop bounce and slide into the drain and coast along the pipes. His hysterical laughter stopped that zone, and he put his arms around my neck and cried himself to sleep. I just stood there.

When his heartbeat was regular I picked him up and carried him to my room, and we slept until dark. The next few days he drank hawthorn berry tea and ate whatever little food I could get past his lethargy.

So now add dead or soon to be dead people to the list of "Nuts: How to Harass Jim Ellison’s Guide." It wasn’t the last white curl. Sometimes he wears tribal fetishes in the braids. The brass shut up about that too.

So you see even without the dissertation we make the papers and the TV news. We are magnets for crazies. I get so tired, but Blair says they come here so we can get them off the streets. Frankly, I wish they would go somewhere else, anywhere else. I want them to leave Blair alone. My senses never shut him out now. 24/7 Blair Blair Blair…Blessed Protector is a permanent state and Blair? Well he endures…

The white hair scares me. The occasional thready heartbeat panics me. The doctors say Blair is healthy, no need for concern, but they don’t listen to the ebb and flow of his body’s function like I do. Sometimes, I‘m so tuned in…if a corpuscle changes shape I would know. Yeah, really… I can’t lose him again, I can’t.

I live for the quiet times when the phone doesn’t ring and the bullpen’s not visiting for poker. We still go camping and I let Blair take me on explorations…to museums and anthropological symposiums…uh huh lecturing me still puts a light in his eye and a bounce back into his step, a class of one for Blair to teach. Sometimes he lets me hold him and we lie on the couch and watch the day slip past, so quiet. I know these times are for me, Blessed Protector may rest…Blair is safe in my arms.

If I touch more than before, Blair doesn’t say anything. I never let him get farther than arms reach when we’re together. As for the other members of the force, the gossip continues. Long as they keep backing us up, I don’t push the issue. But, the first time there’s a slow response I will take the bastards out, cops or not. These days there is Blair…and the others. That’s right, everyone is suspect when it comes to protecting my guide.

Simon keeps talking to me about my attitude going sour and I know I’m more territorial than before but we are still solving cases and if he doesn’t like it move us away from everyone else or I can quit and go home for good and never ever do this again and Blair could live longer!

One a.m. and I have danced with just about everyone here, even the dumb conga line through the hotel lobby. The mayor finally caught me, wanting pictures for the next day’s paper and I was just irritated enough to walk away, when my eyes were caught in guide headlights and the mayor got his pictures. Obey without question, good little sentinel. Not! I’m getting out of here.

I’m standing in the shadows on the windswept terrace, leaning against a pillar to further obscure my presence from intruders. I’m tired of the party, but so very very proud of him. Blair Sandburg Cop of the Year, and because Blair is the way he is, Simon interfered with the planning committee so the banquet in his honor was short on political rhetoric and long on party. Blair hasn’t sat down since the music started. He’s dancing with Conner, for the third time. She left for home a year after the Alex thing and just got back, a permanent resident of Cascade. I’m glad, someone else to watch out for Blair, one more person who knows the truth about me. Not like Major Crimes didn’t realize the dissertation was the truth---after all, they’re detectives. But it’s unspoken and the ranks closed around us, no interviews, ride alongs…some days it’s hard to remember I have friends.

There are two yachts about five miles out, and I can hear the echo of laughter float across the water. I dial it down and focus just on his heartbeat, strong and steady. He’s sweating, but it’s clean, faintly scented with that citrus oil he massages into his skin on occasion. Suddenly I want to touch him so bad my hands start to tremble. Happens a lot now, but I know I can control the impulse. After all, my guide is safe and I know it. But still, I want to… My chest hurts and …pressing hard over my heart, it takes my breath for a minute and I kind of double over. The pain resonates with each beat of his heart…I want to, I want…

Suddenly realize there is light all around me, I have walked back to the terrace windows. I look up into his eyes and am appalled at what could have happened. I don’t want to embarrass him, not tonight. My God, I step back, hand lifted, to keep him away or beg? I…don’t…

And he’s here, arms curving around my shoulders asking what’s wrong what can he do and I whisper, "Be with me Chief."

And I grab the back of his head and press my lips to his…

Stagnant water, scum, cigarette butts, rotting plants chlorine give up their nightmare hold on my memory. There is only Sandburg at last…at last…

I think I just did something really… but when I raise my head he whispers "No Jim, no don’t stop."

So I pull him to me, and his body arches seeking the hardness he knew was here waiting for only him all these years. His hands twist into my lapels and he pushes me away shaking me.

"Make it happen man. Now…Jim. Can’t wait…won’t, not now. Fix it, fix it!"

I drag my hands from his hair, try and get my breathing under control.

Control Ellison, control…

I can only nod and stumble away. By the time I enter the ballroom my face is the hard angry mask everyone expects. I have to hurry, I want to scream his name and touch him and…oh God, help me. I flip the credit card across the desk and growl.

"Room."

The clerk fumbles it and stammers questions about preferences.

"Don’t care." No, no not true.

"King size bed." His mouth is moving, but I only hear Blair’s heartbeat. Now Jim…now Jim…now.

I rock against the desk hands fisted in white knots while the man completes the paperwork and collects the keycards. I can no longer manage words of thanks as I snatch the cards from his shaking hands. Then Blair is here taking the keys. I turn to the elevators with my guide’s hand pressed against my back. The world stops spinning around me. He steps in and I turn to face the doors, automatically keeping him behind me, safe. Simon, his eyes on me, then scanning the lobby, for Blair I bet. But the doors whisk shut and Blair is pulling me back to him, so I grab his shoulders and lift him to my mouth. Devour Blair…have Blair...keep Blair…taste so good…

My control is gone. I’m losing my mind. I just want…closer…closer.

"Please, please…help me here, Chief."

He knows I’m begging for more than his body. I could hurt him. I feel *me* slipping away, and I don’t think I care. He pulls away from my mouth and I blindly seek reconnection. Blair presses my face into his neck and pats my back. I breath, nuzzle his skin, the familiar scent, rhythm of his hands and voice soothing me. I keep standing, shuddering in his embrace.

"Easy Jim, it’s okay. I got you man, it’s okay…I love you."

My pulse races with his and slows again as I hug him tighter still.

I realize if his precious heart ever quiets for good, I will follow him. Joy fills me. I sob into his hair, happy tears, not alone ever again… follow Blair.

"Jim, Jim really it’s okay if you don’t…"

I raise my head and look into his eyes. "It is more than okay Chief, more than I can…"

And I think tears spill over but I’m smiling too, and then Blair laughs and hugs my neck, just like always. Only better because I whisper "I love you," and he kisses my ear.

I hold him tucked beneath my chin, the elevator stops and we walk to the room. Blair opens the door and before he can ask me if I’m okay and if I really want to do this I whisper, "Be with me Blair." And kiss him. He tastes incredible and if I died right here I couldn’t think of a better way to go. Then he moans…and I feel it to my toes humming zinging along my nerves. I crush him to me and flick my tongue beneath his, suck on the corner of his upper lip and bite lightly in the center of his questing tongue just to make him moan again and again. My senses spike…Blair Blair Blair…

"Jim, Jim…man…you …stop…no…wait…ahhh." Whatever he was going to say is lost. My frantic kisses move to his neck where I suckle and nip on the soft fragile skin. I rim his ears tugging on the lobes and he is frantic, pushing his cock against mine, tearing at our clothes, but unable to remove any. His arms wave around, hands pulling…twisting…and I bend him over the bed and bury my tongue back into his mouth. I think my shirt tears and his hot hands rake across my chest. I yell, my body arching away from him. Blair’s voice entreats me to dial it down.

"No, no…to good to good…Just this once…please, Chief."

My hands are full of long auburn curls and I groan, feels cool, so cool wrapped around my fingers…sliding…drawing me down to love my guide. I’ve never gone to pieces with a woman and I’ll be embarrassed as hell later. And just because he knows what is happening is not enough to excuse me, but just this once.

"I’ll make it up to you Blair. Please…I’ll do anything…be anything, just touch me…let me touch you, Chief please! Please…please…"

His hands scrabble at my fly. I dial up and up and…smell him taste him on the air…callused palm wraps around my cock.

Oh shit! Wet, wet tongue lapping up the bitter taste of me.

" Blair…"

I shout when my cock is abandoned and Blair is raking his hands across my stomach, chest. He pinches my nipples…I yell and twist away, but he’s hanging on…it hurts…and it…doesn’t…his hot mouth…wet…cool trail across my chest…my body and down down…again…touch me…so hot, so wet…ooh…

Coming all over his face, his hair, beautiful mouth…darkness.

Hmm…the fast thump of his heart vibrates against my jawbone. Rub my face in the soft hair, lungs fill with Blair…warm, wet arms anchor me closer…lick sweat from his chest, neck and cover him with my body. My teeth scrape the fragile skin, hear the tide of life rush like ocean waves in his veins. He shudders, moans my name hips pushing against me and I push back. He whimpers, cock twitches. I suck harder…metallic scent…taste…warm blood…dragging my cock across his body…feel Blair…hear him crying out…

"Jim…don’t…stop…"

Hands drag my lips from his neck…mouth open to mine…drink Blair…

Can’t move fast enough fucking Blair…so good…

Body twisting…thrusting, his hands hold me. I won’t pull away, can’t. Must have more…

Drag his head back, down into the pillows

"NO, no…Jim!"

Rocking faster, lick him…from chest to chin, my wet salty Blair. Curl my tongue around one nipple…

Blair…wails. His body lifting me, bucking. I cover his chest with bites, sucking the small wounds, tip of my tongue barely stroking nipples. He’s pulling my hair…pleading…moaning…

"More…please…more…"

Yes, yes begging me. His legs pin me…muscles flex…grinding his cock harder…find his mouth again…deeper…faster more…never end…never stop. Suddenly rigid, silent…his teeth in my shoulder, rockets of pain… coming. I am…Blair is…coming. My body curls around him, spasms of pleasure blind me. I’m falling again… semen…sweat…musk…blood, tangerines…sex…Blair…

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