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Backpack slug over his shoulder's, caffe latte in hand, Blair watched the crowd milling around the police barriers. His heart began to pound and his penis began to stir as he caught a glimpse of a tall figure stepping out of a red jeep. The years had been filled with women -- young and older, beautiful, smart, funny -- but none had ever made him respond like this. None had filled his heart until it threatened to pound it's way out of his chest Tossing his latte, armed with the newspaper article on the Switchman case that had led him to Jim after all these years of waiting for Jim to come to him, he moved to intercept him before he reached the police barrier.

Over the years, the memory of that phone call - the call that had defined the years that followed it - had settled into his mind like a houseguest that wouldn't leave. Just a couple of months after his birthday party it had happened. After waiting nearly two years, Eli had called, to tell him that Jim was alright. "Sandburg?" He'd sounded unhappy and anxious, two things this stoic man seldom showed. Both made Blair nervous. "Eli?! How is he? Did you find him? Is he okay?!" "He's alive, just like you said. But he can't see you or anyone right now, kid, and I'm not going to be able to call you anymore myself. This whole thing has gotten far too complicated." "But is he *okay*?!" Blair yelled into the phone, the cry bringing Lindy from her room to stand close, offering silent support. "He's alive, and he seems to be healthy, but he's - he's not the same, kid. You wouldn't recognize him." "Where is he? Eli Aredondo, you tell me where he is!!" The voice on the other end, a voice Blair had grown familiar with over the months, was tight with something that sounded like anger. "Just leave it, Blair. It's over. Get on with your life, I know it will be a good one. Leave James to his, okay?" "What do you mean? Eli, what are you talking about? Eli? Eli!!" Realising that the connection had been broken, Blair frantically tried every number he'd ever had for the other man, but never managed to contact him again. Further efforts to discover what had happened to Jim were hampered by the military code of silence and the publicity that resulted from his survival. Lindy held Blair while he cried over the Newsweek article. Eventually, he had, reluctantly, done as Eli said. He's gotten on with his life. Received his Bachelor's and then his Master's degree, both times wishing desperately that Jim was there in the audience, cheering him on. Losing Jim had also led to the loss of Lindy. When Blair buried himself in his studies and became a virtual monk, she wisely chose to seek someone else to fill her needs, and eventually married and he was happy for her. Returning to Cascade had seemed like karma. The doctoral program, his adolescence spent here... And now karma was paying off. Jim Ellison was alive and well, and living in Cascade, Washington. And it was time to put his life back in order.

Taking deep breaths, not wanting his first words of their reunion to be "where the hell have you been?" he smiled up at the older man, blocking his path. "Detective Ellison?" He couldn't keep the crazy smile off his face, anticipating Jim's expression at seeing him there. "This is a crime scene, you don't belong here." Eyes cold, expression forbidding, Blair's one true love stared at him blankly. "Are you a reporter?" "A re-reporter? Nnno..." Blair stammered as he continued to look at the older man, waiting for Jim to recognize him.

Surely he didn't look that different. Jim looked almost the same. "If you want a statement, call the media person. Turning his back on the odd young man, Ellison scanned the scene, his eyes picking out Carolyn talking to Simon. They narrowed as he wondered what she was doing...complaining about him again? Marrying into the department possibly hadn't been the best ilea he'd ever had. The divorce he'd instigated last year had made an uncomfortable work situation infinitely worse. "Um, hey, man, I need to talk to you...." That flower-child reject was still behind him. Half turning, intending to rip the kid a new asshole, Jim stopped suddenly when a small strong hand closed on his forearm, bared by the short-sleeved shirt he was wearing.

"I swear, sometimes I think he's not even in the room with me, Simon..." his ex-wife's words echoed in his head, bouncing frantically off the insides of his skull and Jim grabbed his head with both hands, leaning over with a moan. Tearing away from the kid, his intrusion no longer important when compared to this sudden onslaught, Jim stumbled back to his jeep. The kid began to duck under the police tape, but an uniformed officer that had missed the exchange caught on and confronted him, backing him off. "I wonder why he ever married me." the words were painfully loud in Jim's ears. Leaning against the jeep Jim covered them again with his hands, trying to be discreet, feeling a little desperate. {I'm imagining this. It's just guilt over the divorce. I'm imagining this...} "Jim is trying his best, Carolyn." the captain said stoutly. "He's a good man or you would never have married him. Give him a chance to deal with whatever is hurting him."

Struggling to get away from the uniform cop, Blair watched helplessly as Jim started the jeep and peeled away. {He didn't know who I was.} The thought echoed around his head, and when the cop released him with a "beat it punk" he stumbled, almost falling. {He didn't know who I was. He looked right through me like I didn't even exist.} The thought grew until it was all he was aware of. Hours later when he found himself curled on the floor of his office he had no memory of getting there. Turning to his notes and his books, starting with the Burton monograph, he tried to find some clue that would give him comfort.

Blair counted off the rings, bouncing in place as he waited for someone to answer the phone. About to hang up after the sixth ring, he yanked the receiver back to his ear as he heard a voice on the other end. "Lindy?" "Blair! Hey honey, how are you doing? I haven't heard from you in ages." "I know. I'm sorry." He twisted the spiral cord around his fingers, trying to figure out how to broach the subject of Jim. As usual though, Lindy could read him like a book, even if this was more like the audio version. "What's wrong?" He laughed humorlessly, the sound almost trailing into a sob. "Have you got a week?" he asked, only half joking. He could hear the baby snuffling in the background. "Go pick up the turtle...I'll wait." her bright laugh forcefully threw light into the darkness he felt gathering in his soul. This darkness was nothing new. Nothing unusual. The only thing different about it was that today he'd found out it was *justified*. Making himself take one deep breath, and then another, Blair leaned back against the wall. He'd taken refuge in his office that afternoon, after his shattering encounter with Jim Ellison, the Cascade version, not wanting to sit alone in the echoing space of his warehouse. Although he loved the room and the feeling of freedom it gave him, he'd wanted to be around people. And even now, getting on toward bedtime, there were still occasional voices and the muted noises of the night classes to keep him company. The soft cooing sounds of Lindy and her four-month-old son Dalan answering them drew him from his thoughts. "How's my best buddy?" he asked as she picked the phone back up. "Getting up at five a.m and driving his daddy nuts." he could hear her smile over the line. "Do you know how happy it makes me that you're happy?" "You don't sound so happy right now. It's not your birthday. It's not May...what's happened?" He was silent for so long that she almost thought he had hung up. Suddenly everything tumbled out in a rush. "Oh, Lindy, everything is such a mess. I mean it wasn't a mess, it was perfect, I found him, I knew how to get in touch with him, so I just went down, you know to confront him, but on neutral ground and I get there and I...and I...and he..." "Shhh Blair, calm down, honey. What is it your always saying; take a deep breath -- sound familiar?" He pulled in a deep breath of air, his lungs slowly filling with the comforting smell of his office; musty artefacts, the inky smell of books, and paper... "He doesn't remember me." The stark words hit him like a blow, crushing him again. But there had been no other way to say it. It was the truth. "Wha..What?" She sounded stunned. Whispering this time, he repeated the sentence. "He doesn't remember me."

Dalan chose that moment to let loose a wail that meant *something* -- Blair had no idea what. "I can call you back." He didn't really want to hang up, Lindy was his lifeline at the moment. He knew the minute he got off the phone he would be plunged back into the darkness that had engulfed his life. "No, no Blair, hang on. Let me just..." he could hear her shifting the baby, the rustle of clothing and the baby quietened. He grinned at the sudden quiet. "That used to work for m-" Her laughing voice cut him off. "Don't you say it. I'm a married woman now!" "I know. And I should let you concentrate on your family instead of always coming to you with my problems." "Tish-tosh honey, you know I live to solve your problems." The smile in her voice made him smile. She was teasing him. {But it's true anyway.} "And you hardly ever bring them to me. Nowhere near as often as I think you need to." "I don't think you can solve this one. I'm not sure anything can." "Well, first explain to me what you mean by he doesn't remember you." "It's just like it sounds, Lindy. I went down to see him, looked him right in the eye and...nothing. He didn't know who I was, not even a glimmer of recognition like you might have for someone you pass on the street everyday." "Did you give him time to remember you, hon? Just because he didn't immediately recognize you..." "I was in his face for awhile." Lindy sighed. "I'm not sure what to tell you. Except your love was - is - something special, and you can't let this stop you. You have to make him remember." "I don't think it's that simple, I've been going over my research all afternoon..." "And..." she prompted as the silence lengthened. Blair traced the cover of the Burton book lovingly. His most prized possession. He'd happily give it away for just one of Jim's kisses. He closed his eyes, imagining the older man's lips on his, remembering the feel and taste of him. "Blair." Lindy sounded amused. "Sorry. I was just...thinking." "I know." softly spoken, the words were a warm hug. "Tell me what you've found." She pulled him back into the conversation. "Oh, yeah. Well. I've made an interesting discovery." His voice took on a modicum of excitement, tinged with awe, the same tone that he always used when speaking about his Sentinel research. "I think that the sentinel's partner is much more important to the whole scheme of things than Burton realized. "It's all there in his monograph, I just don't think he realized what he had witnessed when he wrote this. I think a sentinel's abilities are triggered by the presence of a "guide". And once triggered, the sentinel imprints on the guide." He was speaking quickly, pacing like a caged panther in the small confines of his office. There was a rush of noise in the hallway as the last class let out and students eager to get home,

to food and bed and wherever they needed to be, trooped by, startling him. "How does Jim's not recognizing you work into that?" He heard her shift the baby as he pulled his scattered thoughts back together. "Well...from a few things Burton has mentioned in other sections of the book, and some of my other research, I think that the sentinel imprints on the guide who triggers his abilities, and he needs to be in contact with that guide." "So if Jim imprinted on you..." "Yes! Exactly!" Blair was pleased she was following. "But why wouldn't he remember you then?" "Two reasons. I don't think the enforced separation has been very healthy for him. And when I found out Jim was here in Cascade, I also found an article from when he got back from Peru. It was after the Newsweek cover, I don't know how we missed it." "We were pretty busy in those days, honey." She reminded him softly. "Chaining ourselves to trees, six-month trips to Australia and Africa..." Nodding, pushing his hair back with his thumbs and index fingers, he went on. "From what I can infer from the article here, I think he might have run into another guide down in the jungle. And I think exposure to a guide other than the one he had imprinted on, as well as the separation from me, damaged him in some way. Does that make sense, or am I just grasping at straws so his not remembering me doesn't hurt so much?" Looking around his office, Blair realized that it had gotten dark and he hadn't turned on any lights. He waited patiently for Lindy to consider what he had told her before answering. If she had assured him too quickly, he wouldn't have believed her. "You're the expert, but that makes sense to me." Blair's loud sigh startled him. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath. "I've got to figure out what I'm going to do, Linds. I think he might have lost his Sentinel abilities while we've been separated, because when I touched him he suddenly moaned and put his hands to his ears. I think he was suddenly hearing everything and I think it freaked him out." "You've got to go help him!" "I *know* that! But he's this ex-military cop now who thinks I'm some hippy flowerchild. He's not exactly going to welcome me with open arms." "Are you sure his senses are back? "Yeah...well, pretty sure." "How can you *be* sure? Because he's going to be more receptive to you if you can help him. And once you've got his confidence on that point, you can help him remember you." "Well...I'd have to observe him...make sure he really has them, and see how he's handling it. Then at the appropriate time I can swoop in with all the answers. Or at least some of them...Burton's never too specific on the partner's role." "How long do you think it'll take for him to remember you?" "Honestly, Lindy, I just don't know...a couple of days,

maybe a week or a month. I figure once he's got his abilities completely back the imprinting will kick in and he'll remember me." "Are you going to be able to handle a month of working with him on his abilities without him remembering you?" "It sure beats the alternative." "Well, you be sure and call me if you need to talk to someone, okay honey? You know I'm here for you." "I don't like to bug you and your family, Lindy." "Fiddlesticks. You *are* family. And don't you forget it." "Love you, Linds." "And I love you, Blair honey." The phone clicked softly in his ear. They never said goodbye. And when he called her next they would pick up like they had been speaking only moments ago.

He didn't know what he would have done if it hadn't been for Lindy. Certainly he wouldn't have the guts to begin essentially stalking Jim Ellison, but with her blessing, that was exactly what he was about to do.

Over the next two days Blair put into practice every theory he'd ever read about covert surveillance...which wasn't much. What he found made him sad. His Jim didn't seem to have much of a life now. Some judicious hacking showed that he'd been married, to another cop, and then divorced just over a year later. He lived in a loft apartment, bought, not rented, but didn't spend much time there. Of course, he was working a crazy case. Borrowing a police scanner from a friend, Blair managed to make the next two crime scenes Jim did, one of the involving the Switchman, but the big man never seemed to notice him. Watching the way Jim stood apart from the others, holding himself away, made Blair think. About the easy camaraderie Ellison had shown with Eli, the casual way he had commanded the respect and attention of his men so many years ago. Some more serious hacking got him into Jim's police file, where he found unflattering conduct reports and copies of warnings issued. These had tapered off over the last three years, after Jim had transferred from Vice to Major Crime... but he still looked so unhappy.

At the second scene he worked his way through the crowd, as carefully as he could, and, in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, dropped a scrap of an old stinky t-shirt through the cracked window of Jim's jeep. It landed safely in the back seat, out of sight. {That should help. I think my scent is strong enough on that to 'wake him up'.} He wasn't sure if it was the best idea....but it was the

His opportunity finally came when Jim went to the hospital for tests. There was no doubt in Blair's mind that the sentinel abilities were back, with a vengeance. It pained him to watch Jim struggling to make sense of what was happening to him, but a part of him hoped that the re-emergence of his hyper senses would trigger the memory of learning them with Blair all those years ago. But the older man just seemed to draw further and further into himself. Well, Blair was here to fix that. Pulling on his glasses, double checking he'd buttoned up the lab coat he'd "borrowed", clipboard in hand, he pushed open the door.

Sunlight streamed cheerily through the window, lighting the room with a warmth that warred with the fear that filled his heart. He'd worn his lucky vest, a treasure gleaned from the bottom of a pile of rags at the thrift store. This was the trickiest part of his plan. What if Jim didn't come to see him? Bouncing from one end of the storage room to the other, Blair finally sat down in front of the small sound system he'd brought in and put in two tapes. He was doing a paper on tribal rhythms and modern music. Boogying in place he ran the sound down on the tribal beat, simultaneously increasing the volume on the Seattle underground grunge band; there was definitely a correlation. Turning, still swaying to the music, he grinned as Jim walked into his office. {Yes. He came.} "Hey, notice how the tribal rhythms of the Yanomamo finds a home in the grunge of Seattle cellars." The older man didn't look impressed. Didn't look anything close to pleased to be there. "But I'm sure your father did the same thing with the Stones: Turn that jungle music down!" If possible, Jim looked even more foreboding. Blair's heart broke, reformed and prepared to break again. He figured this would happen at least another hundred times in the next ten minutes. {Where is *my* Jim?} "Yeah, me too, you want to turn that down, Chief?" Hurrying to turn the music off, Blair tried not to let himself get too excited. {He came! He's here. This is going to work, before you

know it he's going to remember and we'll be together like we were meant to be...} A shiver ran through him as he allowed himself to think about that for just one second. To think about being in Jim's arms, with Jim touching him....{There's a lot more to this than that, but, man, I miss *that*!} his thoughts were rueful. Seeing that Jim was just standing there, staring at him, he quickly moved to clear the only other chair for him. "This nurse I'm..." Using the international sign for boffing, he quickly changed tracks as Jim's expression made it clear he was less than charmed by that bit of sharing, "tutoring." he finished lamely. {Like I'm going to tell him I've been practically stalking him this past week...} "Well, she faxed me your charts and BAM! - Holy Grail time! You're the living embodiment of my thesis - a genetic throwback to pre-civilized man." {Uh-oh, swift move, Blair, you have got to calm down or he is so out of here.} "Are you serious?" Jim rose out of the chair to loom threateningly over him. "Did you just call me a caveman?" "Well maybe I as a little out of line with that caveman remark -" Anything else he might have said was cut off as Jim picked him up by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Blair's breath whooshed from his body. He watched wide-eyed as Jim began to tear into him. Something about drugs and harassing an officer. He wasn't sure. He wasn't paying attention. The older man's body was pressed up against his, holding him against the wall. Blair grasped convulsively at his shoulders, desperately trying to keep his hands from cupping Jim's neck and pulling his lips the final few inches to his own. His body was beginning to respond and he knew that he had to get Jim to let him go or the older man would discover how turned on he was getting and that would be the last he would see of him. So distracted by the feelings flooding through him, Blair wasn't sure what he said, although he was pretty certain he called Jim 'Joe Friday', but it whatever the words were, they worked, because Jim was letting him down. {Joe Friday? I never even watched that show!} He walked the older man through the steps he had taken back at A&M when he had first discovered Burton's book and the secret of Jim's unique abilities, trying not to imagine how this scene should have played out; how he should have been telling his lover about his special gifts rather than this stranger who inhabited Jim's body. It wasn't working. Jim was buying the one or two senses thing but not the whole Sentinel deal. Placing his hands on Jim's chest, a last ditch effort to communicate the importance of this, the importance of *them*, through his touch, Blair made his final point. {Wrong call.} he thought sadly as he watched Jim stride from his office, intent on leaving as quickly as possible. {Time for plan B.} Suddenly remembering the zone-out factor he ran to the door to call after Jim, he had to know the dangers. "Wait, I haven't told you about the zone-out....etc"

Running after the bigger man he caught up to him as Jim stopped in the middle of the street, still like a statue, a garbage truck barrelling down on him. The warm sunlight was laughing at Blair now as the vision of the love of his life flattened filled him with dread. In perhaps the bravest, or the stupidest, move he'd ever made, he leapt in front of the garbage truck and pulled Jim to the ground. Even in his fear, he couldn't stop his hand from slipping to Jim's ass, his body delighting in the feel of hard muscles. The next few minutes were a blur, the only thing he could remember clearly was the feeling of relief that coursed through him as Jim pulled him with him.

Blair sat watching the television glumly. It had been well over a month and Jim still didn't remember him. Every day he would meet with the detective, full of hope that this would be the day that Jim would remember him. And every day he was disappointed. And he had told Lindy he could handle a month if he *had* to. God only knew how long it *would* take, certainly he had underestimated it and now he was stuck in this torture of waiting. And torture was the right word. Certainly Jim was still drawn to him. Here he was on his day off, sitting with him watching an old movie, happily munching popcorn out of the same bowl as Larry. The ape was practically in his lap. Blair had never been jealous of an ape before. {Maybe if I tell him I'm doing a comparison study on adult male responses to comfort-seeking behavior in other males.....} he quickly dismissed that line of thought. His behavior wouldn't be in the comfort-seeking category very long if he crawled into Ellison's lap. The explosion shocked him when it came. He almost didn't enjoy the feeling of Jim's body covering his protectively. And then, just as he was starting to get turned on again, Jim jumped up and, pulling out his cell phone, was calling in the explosion, heading for the other end of the warehouse.

     "Aw come on Jim, it'll only be for a week, then we'll be out
of there."
     Looking down at the flower child he was counting on to help
him, Jim couldn't believe he was considering letting him stay at
the loft.