HJO

HJO

Rating: R for language, guns, and vague male-male sexual situations

Pairings: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg, Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski

Disclaimer: "The Sentinel," with its related characters and themes, belongs to Pet Fly and Paramount, not to me. "due South," with its related characters and themes, belongs to Paul Haggis and Alliance, not to me. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Dean McDermott and Ewan McGregor.

Wherein Ray's a firecracker; fairy tales are discussed; and Jim refuses to buy Blair a nice new pen.

"Blair."

Blair glanced over at Jim. "Yeah?" Jim's voice, in just one syllable, sounded serious. The use of Blair's first name hadn't escaped him either.

"I have a confession."

Blair deliberately set down his text, then stood and faced the sofa. "All right, Jim, let me have it."

"I forged a signature."

"On your field trip permission-"

"Your signature."

"Mine?" Blair was surprised. "Jim, man, if you needed me to sign something-" He was dropping onto the sofa, beside Jim.

"On the acceptance form."

"What acceptance form? Would you look at me? Jim-"

"The acceptance form for the uni-"

"Holy shit!" Blair was off of the sofa, on his feet, staring down at Jim. "You signed the acceptance form? Jim, what the hell - - I didn't even tell you about that! Why did you even know about it, what did you do, sign my name and - - What are you thinking, man?" He was entirely at a loss. "Jim, man, I know you aren't trying to get rid of me, I'm not that insecure. I think. You're not trying to get rid of me are you? You want me halfway across the country-"

"I'm going with you."

"The hell you are! I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you!"

"I'm transferring to-"

"No!" Blair shouted.

Jim rose and gripped Blair's elbows. "You are transferring to Dais University. I am transferring to the Chicago PD."

Blair shoved Jim away from him. "You're only going to Chicago because I'm going to Chicago, aren't you? You don't want to leave Cascade, Simon-"

"Chief-"

"Your whole world is right here and you're tromping off to Illinois-"

"I do not tromp."

"Damn it, Jim, are you listening to me?!"

"You're yelling, I'm listening, keep going."

"Dais is a whole huge wonderful opportunity, yes, okay, but I'm turning it down, I already turned it down, I mailed-"

"No you didn't."

"Did you interfere with the postal service, Jim? Isn't that-"

"Yes, it is. Are you going to call Simon and have me arrested?"

"I really should. How did you find out about any of it, anyway? I didn't tell you on purpose."

"Number one, don't ever try to hide anything from me. Number two, I've seen you lie and deflect on so many occasions that you cannot ever lie to me."

"You went through my room, didn't you? You poked around in all of my stuff, you went through my stuff, you violated any sense of privacy I have, and you forged my signature and sent in a reply."

"Yes."

"You unrepentant arrogant criminal! How dare you?! I am old enough to make my own choices, man. I don't know who you think you are, but you are not running my life. I am going to write to Dais and tell them that I'm not accepting shit from them. What were you thinking, Jim? This is your home. You've got it great here. Simon knows all of the Senstuff, the whole department's used to working with you, you know you couldn't ask for a better group. You're going to run off-"

"What happened to tromping?"

"-to some whole new state, whole new city, whole new department. I really doubt that Simon's coming along with us! What are you going to do with a new boss and a new partner, and no one knows about the Senstuff, and you're going to-"

"Would you let me worry about it?"

"No! Because it doesn't matter! We aren't going!" Blair shouted.

"I'm going," Jim said. "I am moving to Chicago to join the Chicago PD. We will have a nice new apartment. I assume that if I go, you're coming?"

"What the-"

"And as long as you're in Chicago, you might as well transfer to Dais."

"Jim, man, you're killing me here. What are you doing? Why are you so hellbent on Chicago?"

"You should go to Dais."

"Is this a whole guilt thing?"

"And what have I done to feel guilty over, Chief?"

"Oh, don't give me that shit. You feel like hell for a lot of things. Like how I keep getting kidnapped and trapped and shot and, let's see, killed now that I've come into your life. Like how my life totally revolves around you these days. These years, really. Like how I get absolutely no respect from your charming department even though without me, they would've lost their best detective. Like how you never appreciate me."

Jim shrugged. "Maybe."

"Jim, I'm not going to lie to you, man. Dais is a great opportunity. It could change my entire career. But I'm not going, because you need to stay in Cascade."

"Maybe it's time we did something for you for a change."

"Not this, Jim. Why don't you just buy me a nice new pen or something?"

"To thank you for ruining your life, putting yourself in danger, putting yourself through hell and never getting acknowledgment, and for getting yourself killed, all because you're dedicating yourself to me, here is a nice new pen," Jim said. "Not quite, Chief."

"Does Simon know about this?"

"Yes."

"And he isn't stopping you?"

"He's glad to see me go."

"Oh that's shit," Blair said. "He loves you. What would we do without Simon?"

"Live in peace and harmony without getting our asses chewed out daily?"

"He only does it because he loves you."

"Chief." Jim put his hands on Blair's shoulders. "We're going to Chicago. I don't care if I have to break a few more laws to do it. We're going to Chicago."

"Oh, you can put on your don't-mess-with-me cop face, and you can put that don't-fuck-with-me Army Ranger steel in your voice, but I am so not impressed." Jim's grip tightened and a glint came into Jim's eyes; Blair fell silent.

Jim paused and moved away, dropping his hands. "Chief-"

"Okay, I'm impressed," Blair admitted.

"You're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you," Blair said. "It's just that sometimes I remember that you're the most deadly person I've ever met."

"You should never be afraid of me."

"God, Jim, I know you'd never hurt me. I'm the Blessed Protectee. Blair comes first. Of course, there's always some psychotic blonde around to make you shove me aside and run after her like a-"

"Chief, one more word and I will hurt you."

"I am not going to Chicago."

"I am. If you'd rather stay here, that's up to you."

Two weeks later, Jim was packed and ready to go. He'd already said good-bye to Simon, Taggert, Rafe, and Brown. He'd spoken with his father. He had a job and apartment waiting for him in Chicago. He had to leave for the airport.

Blair was sitting on the sofa, arms over his chest, glaring at nothing, the very picture of mulish stubbornness.

Jim sighed and walked over to Blair. He crouched down before his friend. "Chief, I'm leaving. I have your plane ticket. Are you coming with me?"

Blair's jaw unclenched enough to say, "No."

"Won't be the same without you. You live with me, you work with me, you're always there, and when you aren't I know where you are. I'll be able to go from room to room and never smell a bit of you. I won't be able to hear you. I won't see you."

"So stay here."

"I can't."

"You wrote to Dais, didn't you?"

"I did."

"You told them I'm coming."

"I did."

"You bastard."

"Good-bye, Chief." Jim rose up slightly and leaned in close, blue eyes closing - - he's smelling me - - then stepped back, went to the front door, got his last suitcases, and left.

Blair was alone. No Jim. None of Jim's things. Just Blair.

Jim was in Chicago. Chicago was a lot like Hell.

He was working under Lieutenant Welsh. Lieutenant Welsh put up with a lot of shit. His new partner was Detective Ray Vecchio: skinny, tall, spiky blonde hair, jittery, and really good at the job. Vecchio's unofficial partner, hence Jim's as well, was a Mountie. A real live Mountie, with a real live half-wolf, white and deaf. (The Mountie was white, too, but not deaf.) Constable Benton Fraser was proper and polite to the point of being insufferable, and drove Vecchio up the wall. Sometimes Jim thought that Fraser was rigid and opinionated, and sometimes he thought that the guy was just different from other people. Whatever the case, obviously Vecchio and Fraser had had a real dynamic and he was an intruder. He knew how it felt; he and his own unofficial partner, Blair, had a real chemistry of their own, and they worked best together, just the two of them. So he gave them space, respecting their partnership. He couldn't believe that he wasn't allergic to Diefenbaker (the wolf).

He'd been in Chicago for two months. There was no sign of Blair anywhere. He never saw Blair. He never heard Blair. He never smelled Blair. He never touched Blair. No wide intense eyes, no sunlight in hair, no expressive hands. No smooth firm Guide voice, no caught up in ideas voice, no heartbeat. No shampoo, no sweat, no fear. No soft thick curls, no worn flannel, no warm alive skin.

He'd never once tasted Blair. There'd been no reason, and it had never crossed his mind. Now that his senses were deprived, he wondered fleetingly how Blair tasted.

There was an empty bedroom in his apartment just waiting for Blair. There was empty space on the bathroom counter, and an empty cushion on the sofa, and an empty chair at the table. Why wasn't Blair coming?

Jim was sitting at his desk filling out paperwork, his least favorite part of the job. Ray Vecchio was sitting at the next desk, muttering. Ray got up and left. The guy was way too antsy for Jim, always in motion, but different from Blair. Brilliant, though. Jim was glad to have someone smart and intuitive for a partner; it made his own "hunches" seem less off-the-wall than if he'd been saddled with someone not too bright. And Ray was willing to go with the flow, although Jim knew that sooner or later (most likely sooner) Ray would start drawing conclusions. That was one of the drawbacks of working with detectives.

A scent hit him. The combination of soap and anti-perspirant and shampoo and conditioner and sweat and Blair that he'd sought for three months. Three months. His head snapped up too fast and he saw Blair walking right over to him. He was on his feet in a flash.

"Hey, Jim," Blair said easily. "How's the paperwork?"

"Blair." Heartbeat. He could hear Blair's heartbeat again.

"Don't zone on me, man," Blair said. "I dropped my stuff off at the apartment. I have to go to the university tomorrow. I just thought that I'd come by and see how you're doing. I have to meet Lieutenant Welsh anyway." Blair looked around, saw Welsh's office, and said, "I'd better go now. Wish me luck." He walked off, leaving Jim standing there staring after him.

Jim turned up his hearing and just gloried in that steady heartbeat.

Blair returned ten minutes later, coming to stand by Jim's desk. "Between Welsh and Simon, we're working on some sort of type here, Jim."

A spark of energy flashed across Jim's senses and Ray appeared. "Hey, are you Blair Sandburg?"

"I am," Blair said, and they shook hands.

"I'm Ray Vecchio."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Blair said.

And just like that, the two of them started to talk. They talked about Chicago, and police work, and Ray and Jim's specific cases, and how the last three months had gone, and what was happening now, and Fraser, and Diefenbaker, and Jim. Jim just sat there at his desk while they sat right there, not a foot away, talking.

Blair was here.

Blair was ignoring him.

Not ignoring him, not really. Blair wasn't angry or worried or resentful. Blair was just not paying the least bit of attention to him.

At least he didn't have to worry that Blair and Ray wouldn't get along.

And just like that, Blair was back in Jim's life. Living with Jim. Working at Dais, studying and researching and writing, teaching. Working with him and Ray and Fraser and Diefenbaker, the five of them their own little police force. Fraser, ever efficient and polite; Ray, intuitive and energetic; Jim, professional and alpha male; Blair, intellectual and fresh; Diefenbaker, smart and superior. Blair accepted Fraser and Diefenbaker right from the start, seemed to think nothing of a deaf wolf or a man who liked to taste everything.

Blair was accepted at the station right away, probably because these people were used to the out-of-the-ordinary. Welsh treated Blair as Simon had, for the most part. Frannie flirted with him, hoping to find him more receptive than Fraser was. Huey and Dewey teased him but were friendly.

Two months after Blair had arrived in Chicago, Jim started to notice It. He didn't like It. He really didn't like It.

Blair and Ray got along well, and that was great. They were young, they were smart, they were handsome, they had similar interests and experiences, they had great hair, and they were saddled with straight-and-narrow men for partners. Ray had a consuming energy that just made Jim's senses tingle, and Blair was enthusiasm personified.

Then Blair and Ray started to spend time together, more and more time together. They by no means excluded Jim and Fraser, but they always included each other.

Then Jim began to notice signs of arousal. They were turning each other on. And they knew it.

Then Blair walked into the apartment, and he smelled like Ray.

Blair was having an affair with Ray. Jim couldn't deny that Ray was a great guy. Hell, he couldn't think of anything about Ray that he didn't like, which was sort of alarming. But he didn't like It.

Fraser didn't like It, either.

Blair and Ray didn't act like lovers when they were at the 2-7, of course. But when they were just with Jim and Fraser, whom they trusted, who knew that they were gay and knew that they were together, they didn't hide it. When Blair went to Ray's apartment and spent the night, there was no hiding and no guilt.

Jim saw them kiss. The first time, it was just a brush of lips, and Ray's eyes were bright with pleasure, and Blair's were shining with desire. The second time, their hands were on each other, and their tongues were in each other's mouths, and Fraser was looking elsewhere. Jim couldn't help but look, had to watch. Wanted to see. Someone else was kissing Blair, was touching Blair, and wasn't he. Wasn't Jim.

Jim had thought that Blair was just about his polar opposite. If Blair wasn't, Ray was. He desperately wanted to hate Ray, wanted to think of reasons that Ray was bad and to chortle over them with glee. But Ray was a terrific person, and it was really hard to list negative qualities. In fact, there were things about Ray that Jim envied, ways that Jim wished that he could be that came naturally to Ray. Plus, Ray had more hair. "Experimental hair," Ray called it. Blair, of course, liked it too. Blair liked everything about Ray.

Jim tried to tell himself that maybe he wanted Ray. But no, he didn't want Ray. Not because anything was wrong with Ray, but because his heart and libido were centered entirely on Blair Sandburg.

Jim knew that Fraser was as displeased with It as he was. He considered, briefly, having an affair with Fraser. But he knew that Fraser had the same...obsession?...with Ray that he had with Blair, so there was no point to finding temporary physical consolation with the Mountie, no matter how very attractive Fraser was.

He wanted to break up Ray and Blair, but he couldn't find a compelling reason, and he'd only end up looking like a jerk. He tried to think of what he'd say. "Blair, I know that you're happy with Ray, and I know that he's wonderful, and I know that there's no reason at all that you should leave him, but I want you to break up with him just because I say so." Well, he was the Blessed Protector, wasn't he? Didn't he know what was best for Blair? Sure, right, he'd really exhibited that sort of behavior in the past. "I know that this woman's insane, and she killed you, but I want to have sex with her and betray you anyway, so get over it."

Blair and Ray were having sex. Ray knew Blair better than he did.

"Are you in love with him?"

Blair tied back his hair. "With Ray?"

"No, Blair, with Detective Dewey."

"Oh, Tom's-"

"Sandburg!"

"No, I'm not in love with Ray. I mean, I am, but not in that soul-wrenching way."

"You're in love with him."

"Yeah. It's sort of like having a really close friend, and loving him, and having sex with him. Best friend with benefits?" Blair asked, dissatisfied with his explanation. "I love him. But it's not the deepest emotional investment of my life. And he loves me, but it's the same for him as it is for me."

"Because he's in love with Stella?"

Blair cast him a look. "Jim, Ray's not in love with Stella. And why does everyone have some woman in his past except me? I'll bet even Dief has some tragic story."

Was Blair intimating that Fraser had a checkered romantic past? It would explain why Fraser had no romantic life now. The man was irresistible but completely oblivious to the stares and come-ons hurled at him daily.

Blair rolled up his sleeves. "Look, I know that I've been neglecting my Sentinel lately. And Ray wants to spend more time with Fraser. I think he's afraid that Fraser's going to start making eyes at Ren or something."

"Ren? Constable Turnbull?"

"So this weekend it's just the two of us, man. Unless you've got plans."

"Plans? Me?"

"Great." And the smile that Blair gave him made up for every time that Ray Vecchio's hands had been on Blair's body.

Jim and Blair spent the next few evenings together. They didn't do anything of great importance, but it was significant to Jim. Blair was the best friend that he'd ever had. They could relax, they could talk, they could just be together. He didn't have to guard his responses, check his speech, worry that he'd give away something. Blair knew his past, knew his quirks, knew his-

"Jim, can I ask you something?"

"When don't you?" he asked, turning off the TV.

Blair sat beside him on the sofa, turning to face him. "Have you noticed anything off about Ray?"

"Like what?"

Blair tied back his hair. "Like maybe... Okay, Ray and Fraser have been partners for a few years. But if you ever get them to talk about their previous cases, they only go back so far."

"You're sure?" Jim reached behind Blair's head and tugged; Blair's hair fell loose again.

Blair shoved away Jim's hand. "I'm sure."

"Maybe something bad happened and they don't want to revisit it."

"Like Victoria? I mean, all I know is her name; she existed, she ruined everything, and now she's gone."

Victoria. Was she Fraser's checkered romantic past? Boy was he out of the loop. Of course Blair knew all about it. "Why don't you just ask Ray what's going on? It's probably nothing, Chief."

"I just...I feel like we have our secret, and they have their secret, and there's some sort of tacit policy that we won't ask about them if they won't ask about us."

"I get the feeling," Jim said, "that Simon and Welsh communicated, and that there's a reason that I was assigned as Ray's partner specifically. Maybe because of the situation you're describing."

"So should we honor it and keep it to ourselves? Or should we tell ours and hope that they'll tell theirs?"

"You want to share?"

"I just think that it might help the partnership."

"Which partnership? Mine with Ray or yours with Ray?"

"Yours," Blair said. "With Ray. All four of us together, really."

"Five. Don't forget Diefenbaker."

Blair smiled. "Right. Five."

"I'm willing to bet that they suspect something already. They're too smart and too observant not to have noticed how observant I am."

"And they're smart and discreet enough not to have commented on it. They respect our privacy."

"And you want to repay them by spilling everyone's secrets."

"It's up to you. This is your deal, man."

"So what would we say? Just that I have enhanced sensory capacity? Or the whole deal with Sentinels and Guides and everything?"

"If we're going to do it, we have to go all the way."

"Of course we do." Should he expect any less from Blair Sandburg?

The next day Blair dropped by just in time to find the other three - - sorry, Dief, four - - taking off to make some arrests in a murder case. Blair joined them. Ray, Fraser, and Dief took the GTO; Blair took his seat with Jim in Jim's new truck. They tracked two of the suspects to a fast food place. It was supposed to be an everyday arrest, nothing special, just grab them, cuff them, and book them. However, the perps didn't see it that way.

Dief was outside guarding the front door. Ray flashed his badge and Jim reached for the cuffs. Perp #1, Gitano Tommy, jumped up to run and Perp #2, Tony Morris, reached for a jacket pocket. Ray was just reaching for Gitano when Tony pulled a gun.

Jim pulled his own weapon as he stepped neatly between Blair and the line of fire. "Chicago PD. Put down the gun."

"Yo, man, what are you doing?" Gitano asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, man, what are you doing?" Ray asked. "You aren't pulling a gun on a bunch of officers, are you? Because that would be a really bad idea."

"You are resisting arrest," Fraser began.

"Yeah, you bet I'm resisting arrest," Tony said. "Tano, c'mon."

Gitano pulled out his own gun and aimed it at Ray. "Just back off, cop man."

Ray backed toward Fraser. He kept his eyes on Gitano, sure that Jim was taking care of Tony. "There are people here, Gitano. Innocent people."

"I don't want to shoot little kids or anything," Gitano said.

"So we can tell them to go?" Ray asked.

"No," Tony said. "They go, they'll call the cops, we'll have a mess. Everybody stays."

"The cops are here," Jim said. "We're the cops. I'm sure that someone's already called for more anyway. Why not let these people go?"

"Okay," Gitano said.

"No!" Tony shouted, finger tightening on the trigger.

"Hey, man, calm down," Blair said, trying to move out from behind Jim. Jim kept moving as he did, keeping him covered. "You don't need any more trouble. Just let the people go. Look at them, they're retired people, people on break from hard low-paying work, a mom and her kids. They've done nothing to you."

"Tell them they can go," Gitano said.

"Go," Jim said clearly and firmly. Everyone ran.

"Who are you, anyway?" Tony asked. "You're no cop."

"What gave it away?" Blair asked. He moved; Jim let go of the gun with one hand and yanked him back into place safely behind Jim's broad back.

"Stay put!" Jim said.

"Yeah, stay put," Tony said. "I wanna see if I can shoot both of you with one bullet."

"You're being arrested for murder already and now you want to start killing cops in the line of duty?" Ray asked.

Fraser walked to Gitano, who started to back up nervously. "Please give me your weapon."

"You crazy fuck, get back there!" Tony told Fraser.

"I'm not giving you my gun!" Gitano exclaimed.

"Give him the bullets," Tony said.

"Yeah, I'll give you the bullets," Gitano told Fraser, frowning. "Now get back there."

"Do you have a permit to carry a concealed handgun?" Fraser asked.

"It isn't concealed," Tony said. "He's showing it to you right now."

"Do you have a license for your gun?" Fraser continued.

"Would you get away from me!" Gitano said. "Damn it!"

"Isn't he frustrating?" Ray asked. "Never listens. Always talking about something just to drive you crazy."

"Hey! Hey no no!" Gitano shrieked. Fraser had a hand on the gun. Gitano tried to kick him.

Tony backed up fast, swinging his gun from Jim to Ray to Fraser and back again. As Tony swept the room, Jim moved into position in accordance, one hand keeping Blair in place. "Back off, man, just back off," Tony said to Fraser.

"Sir, please relinquish your weapon," Fraser said.

"You back off or he's gonna pull the trigger and it's bye-bye Big Red," Tony said.

"You're insane," Ray told Fraser. "You're worse than I am. I give up." He turned his back and started to walk away.

"Hey! Freeze!" Tony shouted.

Ray put on his glasses, moving for the door.

"Stop it or I'll shoot him myself," Tony warned.

Ray whirled around, gun out, dropping on one knee. "Try it and I'll shoot you myself. He dies you die. I may just kill you anyway for even thinking of killing Fraser."

"Hey, I'm not killing anybody," Gitano said, and gave Fraser the gun.

"Thank you," Fraser said. "Mr. Gitano Tommy, you are under-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Tony shouted.

"I have a gun, he has a gun, and now he has a gun," Ray said. "You have a gun. Three against one, we win. You can't kill all of us and run before we get you."

Tony's gun rested its aim at Gitano and Fraser. "Then I'll just kill one."

"Frase," Ray said. "There's a gun in your hand. You might have to use it."

"I believe," Fraser said, "that Mr. Morris is aiming at his associate."

"Tony, man," Gitano said.

"Jim, do something," Blair said.

"Tony Morris, you are under arrest for the murder of Teresa Garland," Jim said. "Put the gun on the floor and your hands behind your head."

"Tony, man, please," Gitano said.

"Don't make it worse, Tony," Blair said.

Tony threw the gun aside and raised his hands. "No problem."

"That's something," Ray said.

"What?" Jim asked, shoving his fork through the fried rice.

"See, Frase and I, we're partners, you know, and we've done crazy stupid stuff for each other. I mean, crazy stupid stuff that's likely to get us killed, just to save each other's butts. But you and Blair, it's different. It's like no matter what Blair has to be safe."

"He does," Jim said.

"May I ask why, Jim?" Fraser asked.

"Yeah, Jim, why?" Blair teased.

"He's the only person I know who knows all of the correct words to 'Louie Louie,'" Jim said.

"Wow," Ray said. "He is a find. You should have told me."

"'Louie, Louie'?" Fraser repeated.

"Go ahead, Blair, sing it for us," Ray urged, smiling.

"No," Jim said. "You do not want to hear Blair sing."

"Oh, man, that's harsh," Blair said. "Now I have to sing to defend my honor."

"No," Jim said. "No, never."

"It's okay," Ray said. "Fraser has no sense of rhythm, you can't sing, I can't... Well, I can do everything. What about you, Jim?"

"Let me answer that," Blair said.

"We don't have enough time to listen to you list my faults," Jim said. "The restaurant will close in a few hours."

"Seriously," Blair said, "can you both come over to our place? I think we should talk about some stuff."

"Trouble," Ray said. "What do you think, Frase, should I have a sudden dentist appointment?"

"No, Ray, I believe that we should respect Blair's invitation and hear what he has to say."

"You would," Ray said. "Okay, I'll come along, but if we're having some huge drama I'm out the door."

They left the restaurant and drove to Jim and Blair's apartment. Fraser and Ray sat on the sofa, Dief at Fraser's feet. Jim took the armchair. Blair got a beer for Jim and one for Ray, then stood before the group. "Okay, should I just start talking?"

"Could we stop you?" Jim asked.

"The two of you have noticed that Jim's a very observant person?" Blair checked.

"Yeah," Ray said. "We've noticed. He hears stuff, sees stuff, that's like not even there. It's really helpful."

"I do my best," Jim said.

"He has enhanced senses," Blair said. "He's what's called a Sentinel. Sentinels exist to protect the tribe. In this case, the tribe is either Cascade or Chicago. Sentinels need help to control their senses and work to the best of their abilities. That's why there are Guides, who train and assist. I'm Jim's Guide."

"This is a lot more interesting than I guessed," Ray said. "So are there more of you?"

"There was one woman," Blair said. "She killed me."

"You aren't dead, Chief."

"After she killed me, Jim ran off to have sex with her."

"Sandburg," Jim warned.

"She was out of her mind," Blair said. "I mean insane. It was great."

"You almost died?" Ray asked.

"Drowned. In a fountain. Really cold and wet. Anyway, so that's why Jim's super protective of me, because I'm here to help him and the least he could do in return is keep his girlfriends from killing me and he totally fucked up."

"I'm protective of you because if you die then I don't have anyone to harass me," Jim said.

"Yeah, but if Tony or whoever kills you instead of me, what good does that do?" Blair asked.

"Blair, can I talk to you alone for a second?" Ray asked. "Frase, stay put. Jim, don't eavesdrop." Ray and Blair went into Blair's room and closed the door.

"I swear," Jim said, "if they get distracted and start..."

"It was my understanding that no intercourse is to take place in this apartment," Fraser said.

"So far," Jim said. "But Blair tends to forget that rules apply to him." He did a quick check; Blair's heartbeat was steady.

Ray and Blair reappeared. "Okay. We broke up," Ray said, reseating himself at Fraser's side. "Gotta tell you, it went a lot easier than my divorce did."

"You broke up, Ray?" Fraser asked.

"Why?" Jim asked.

"Conflict of interest," Blair said. "Don't worry about it."

"Frase, since they've told us about Sentinels and Guides and everything, do you think it's only fair that we tell them our stuff?" Ray asked. "I mean, it isn't like we're supposed to run around telling everyone, and the fewer people who know the better, but I figure they're used to keeping secrets."

"If it's serious stuff and it's going to bring trouble, you're under no obligation to tell us," Blair said.

"Okay, I'll just tell you the one basic part," Ray said. "I'm not Ray Vecchio."

"Then who is?" Blair asked. "Who are you?"

"You're in one hell of an undercover operation," Jim said.

"Yeah, I am," Ray said. "The real Vecchio is, too. That's why I'm here, to cover for him. I'm Ray Kowalski. Vecchio's Italian, Armani, fuck-me cologne. Totally not me. He was Fraser's partner first. I'm just the fill-in while he's undercover."

"I'm guessing, from your description, what sort of undercover operation he's in," Blair said. "This is serious stuff. You're taking a real risk. And living your life as someone else, that must be terribly difficult."

"Isn't this the sort of revelation you make before you sleep with someone?" Jim asked Ray.

"Jim, come on, man, there are extenuating circumstances," Blair said. "Telling me puts me in more danger anyway."

"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine," Ray told Jim.

"So this is why Lieutenant Welsh put us together," Jim said. "You and your secret and unofficial partner, me and my secret and unofficial partner."

"I knew something had to be up," Ray said. "He wouldn't have put me with anyone if there weren't something going on."

"Every time you introduce yourself, sign your name, answer the phone, you have to remember who you are, who you aren't," Blair said. "How can you live like that?"

"If I don't live like that, Vecchio dies," Ray said. "As long as I keep that thought in my head, I'm fine."

In the morning, as Blair was drinking orange juice, Jim said, "Why'd Ray dump you?"

"Good morning, Jim," Blair said.

"Conflict of interest? He did it right after you-"

"What, you think that he broke up with me because I'm your Guide?" Blair asked. Then he paused. "Well, he did, sort of, but it's not the way you think."

"Enlighten me." Jim crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sorry, I have to go-"

"Sandburg, you're telling me before you leave this apartment."

"Maybe later."

Jim grabbed Blair's elbow and dragged Blair back to the middle of the room. "Tell me."

"I'm more involved with you than I can ever be with Ray, and he and I both know it, and we don't think it's fair to any one of us for Ray and I to be together."

"How so?"

"How so what? You know what I'm talking about."

"I do?"

"Jim, have you been paying attention once in the past years?"

"Apparently not."

"No, apparently not." Blair sighed and removed himself from Jim's grip. "I'm in love with you. Ray's in love with Fraser. We-"

"Say that again."

"No. You heard me. I'm going to class." Blair left.

Blair was in love with him. Blair thought that he knew. As though if he knew that Blair Sandburg was in love with him, he wouldn't drag the guy to the nearest bed.

But Blair was in love with Ray, too. Maybe Blair could be in love with ten different people. Maybe Blair loved him, just not "in that soul-wrenching way." Whatever that meant.

What was he supposed to do now? He was absolutely in love with Blair, in lots of ways, for lots of reasons, and he was sure that at least some of those ways fell into the soul-wrenching category. But he didn't want to drag Blair to the nearest bed if Blair didn't love him enough. If he tried to take Blair to his bed, and Blair didn't want to go, he'd be mortally embarrassed at the very least. He didn't think that it would endanger their friendship; at this point, not much could. But he could do without exposing himself to rejection. Blair's rejection.

Which left him spending the next two weeks not once making reference to Blair's parting words. Blair didn't bring it up either, which was unusual; Blair thrived on making Jim talk about feelings and expose the dirty icky parts of his psyche. Jim preferred to repress and deny, but Blair never let him get away with it for long. Jim waited, tense, for the moment when Blair would confront him and make him acknowledge how he felt about what Blair had said.

He hadn't missed the other part of Blair's devastating (if brief) speech, either. "Ray's in love with Fraser." It was obvious to Jim, at least, that Fraser was in love with Ray. As much as he'd hated every second that Blair spent with Ray, he'd had some possessive and smug part of himself thinking, "Yes, but Blair's mine, my Guide, my Blessed Protectee, and no matter what I come first in his life." It was a ridiculous thing to be thinking, and he had no right to be that smug, but he'd thought it anyway. Fraser, however, had no such smug voice. Fraser and Ray's partnership was entirely different from his with Blair. Ray wasn't even Ray; Ray was just the stand-in for Fraser's real partner. From what Jim could see, Ray was still holding onto doubts about Fraser's real commitment to their partnership. That probably stemmed from Stella's rejection, although Jim thought that delving into people's psychological issues was more in Blair's line than his.

It wasn't up to Jim to play matchmaker. If Fraser was in love with Ray, which Jim thought, that was Fraser's business. And if Ray was in love with Fraser, which Blair thought, that was Ray's business.

Jim was at his desk, filling out paperwork. Ray was beside him, doing the same.

His head went up.

"Blair's here?" Ray asked, still writing.

Jim went back to writing. "Fraser's with him."

"They can do this, and we can go get a coupla beers," Ray suggested.

Blair, Fraser, and Diefenbaker came into view and walked over to their desks. "Good evening, Ray, Jim," Fraser said.

"Hey," Ray said to them.

"How much longer are you going to be?" Blair asked.

"Thanks for the sympathy, Chief," Jim said. "Welsh says we're not leaving the building until every last report is finished."

"Good for him," Blair said. "Dief and I are starving. Don't suppose we could order a pizza here." Jim and Ray exchanged a smile. Blair chuckled and dialed. Fraser looked mildly disapproving, but Dief looked pleased.

The pizza came. The five of them sat around the two desks eating, talking, and doing more male bonding than paperwork. Then, at Fraser's prodding, the two detectives actually settled in to finish their work. Blair took Fraser and Dief to Jim and Blair's apartment, so as not to be a distraction.

Jim finished as Ray stood and stretched. They carried their reports to Welsh's office. They drove to Jim and Blair's apartment. Entering the building, Ray confessed that he was dead on his feet.

"You could sleep here," Jim said. "We wouldn't want you to fall asleep at the wheel and crash your GTO."

"I should probably get Fraser home," Ray said.

Opening the door, Jim stopped just to look.

On the sofa, curled up asleep together, were Blair and Diefenbaker. On the armchair, fast asleep with perfect posture, was Fraser.

Jim and Ray exchanged a look.

Jim closed the door and walked to the sofa. He stooped and gathered up Blair's warm, dead weight, untangling Blair from Diefenbaker. "Come on, Chief," he said quietly. Blair settled against him at that reassurance, still asleep. He carried Blair to his room.

Jim awoke to an armful of Blair Sandburg. He brushed Blair's curls out of his face, eased his arm from under Blair's body, and carefully left the bed. He showered, dressed, and found Dief asleep on the sofa. He peeked into Blair's room and saw Fraser and Ray half-dressed and entirely asleep, Fraser spooned up behind Ray. Jim was sure that Fraser had not been entirely aware of what was happening upon being put into Blair's bed by Ray. Whether Fraser would be embarrassed or angry, he'd wait to see. In the meantime, he withdrew and went to make breakfast.

Fraser appeared, the immaculate Mountie. "Good morning, Jim. I apologize for overstaying my welcome. I did not intend to fall asleep in your home, nor-"

"It's okay," Jim said. "Breakfast?"

"No thank you, Jim. Diefenbaker and I had better be on our way."

"Sit down and eat, Frase," Ray said, showing up casual and scruffy and gorgeous. "Coffee?"

Jim handed him a cup. "Sorry; Blair doesn't let me keep candy around here."

Ray grinned and drank, one naked foot hooking under a rung and pulling out a chair. "Sit, Fraser. Dief, you hungry?" Jim raised his head. "Blair's up?" Ray asked.

"Jim?" asked Blair's voice.

"Yeah, Chief," Jim called back, setting a plate of pancakes on the table.

"Why am I in your bed?"

"I put you there."

"It's about time," Blair grumbled under his breath. Jim smiled. "Jim!"

"Yeah, Chief."

"Why?"

"We had company and we ran short of space."

"Company?" Blair emerged, finally, in yesterday's clothing. "Oh. Oh, right, I fell asleep when Fraser was here. Sorry about that."

"I think he's sorry, too," Ray said. "Really, Frase, it isn't like I mauled you in your sleep."

Fraser turned red. "Really, Ray. I accused you of nothing of the sort."

"Then stop acting like I've messed up your honor or something. Sit down and have breakfast, and then I'll take you to the Consulate. You don't want to run out on breakfast and insult Jim's hospitality, do you? Besides, Dief's hungry."

So Fraser sat and ate, and Ray scowled and drank coffee. Dief ate and ignored the two of them. Blair ran around getting dressed and grabbed a bagel and hurried off to the university. Jim could see Fraser snapping into polite yet unbending rigidity. This did not bode well.

That night, as Blair was brushing his teeth, Jim paused in the bathroom door. "Chief?"

Blair looked at Jim over the toothbrush.

"You want to sleep in my bed again tonight?"

Blair spat into the sink and looked at Jim. "Is this your way of asking me for sex?"

"Yeah."

"Is this a one-night thing?"

"No."

"Is this an exclusive monogamous thing?"

"Yes."

"You want me to be your steady, sweetie?"

"Blair, just get in my bed."

"His bed. His orders. Some people-" And Blair was off, muttering and grumbling without pausing for breath. But Blair ended up, at the end of the diatribe, naked in Jim's bed, crawling right into Jim's arms, only stopping the speech to kiss Jim.

"I don't know," Blair was saying. "It could be the Sentinel-Guide connection. It could be that I exude the right pheremones. He said something about me being a feast for the senses. It could be that since we live in close proximity, it's some sort of territorial-"

"Sandburg," Jim said, "that's enough."

"Don't sneak up on me like that," Blair said. "God, Jim, give me a heart attack."

"You're sleeping together and you're still not on a first-name basis?" Ray asked.

Blair tied back his hair. "Sex is one thing. Calling someone by his first name intimates a more personal relationship, and apparently Jim isn't willing to go that far with me."

"He calls me Ray."

"Does that mean that he's screwing me while he pines over you?" Blair asked. "I'm not feeling happy about that idea. I don't feel like being Ray's substitute in bed."

"Join the club," Ray said.

"Fraser doesn't think of you like that," Blair said.

"Yeah. He doesn't think of me at all," Ray muttered. "Listen to me like some teenaged girl."

"You know what you need," Blair said.

"I'd better sit down for this one," Jim said, taking a seat at his desk.

Blair ignored Jim. "You need honest communication. Be open with Fraser. Tell him what you're thinking."

"Guys don't do that," Ray said.

"Yeah, guys say, 'Get in my bed,'" Blair said. "Which could mean, 'I'm horny and you're available,' or it could mean, 'Yes, Blair, I'm in love with you, too, please come and make love with me.' What you need is open communication. Fraser deserves it."

"And I deserve to be rejected and tossed out?" Ray asked.

"He won't do that to you," Blair said.

"You got the fairy tale happy ending," Ray said. "Not all of us get it."

"Don't you think that Fraser will?" Blair asked.

"Sure. He deserves it if anybody does. And he looks right for the part."

"Let's find out whom he'd like with him in his happy ending," Blair said.

"Just because you got your man," Ray said. "Now you're gonna make sure Fraser gets his. It isn't gonna be me, Blair. Fraser's all hung up on Victoria and Vecchio. He's pissed at me anyway."

"I smell wool and wolf," Jim said. "You might want to look like you've been doing something besides standing here talking about him."

"You're pretty handy to have around," Ray told Jim. "Maybe we oughta keep you." Ray sat, Blair perched on the edge of Jim's desk, and Fraser and Dief walked over to them.

"Good afternoon," Fraser greeted them.

"We've been talking about fairy tales," Blair said. "You know, you look like a Prince Charming type."

"Considering the company he keeps," Jim said, "he wins the part by default."

"Are you saying that I don't look like a Prince Charming?" Blair asked.

"You're too short and too hairy," Jim said.

"At least I have hair," Blair said. "And what's wrong with Ray?"

"Too skinny, too scruffy," Ray said.

"Now that we have a Prince Charming, we need a fair maiden," Blair said.

"Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty," Ray said.

They were talking too fast, not giving Fraser a chance to speak. Now Blair said, "It's up to you, Fraser. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes? Redheads?"

"I would not want to make such a sweeping distinction, Blair," Fraser said. There was a pause. "In truth, my sentiments are partial to blondes."

Blondes. Not like Victoria. Not like Vecchio. Like Ray. Ray was blonde.

"Cinderella, then?" Ray asked. "She's a blonde chick."

"I never liked that story," Jim said.

"What's wrong with it?" Blair asked.

"I always got the feeling that he only liked her when she was in the beautiful princess role. She was playing a part. I worried that once he found out who she really was, that they'd have an unhappy life together because he'd keep wanting her to be the person she'd pretended to be."

"Like he'd be disappointed," Ray said. "That sucks, Jim. You're reading this whole depressing drama into it. Fairy tales are supposed to be happy little kid stories."

"Actually," Fraser and Blair began.

"Forget it," Jim said. "We don't need you to bless us with a discussion of the background of fairy tales and how depressing and gory they are."

"I never thought about that," Blair said. "That Prince Charming might only want Cinderella as a beautiful princess, and would resist her. She did go in under false pretences; she entered the relationship under an assumed identity."

"You're saying it's her fault," Ray said. "For pretending to be someone else."

"I'm thinking," Blair said, "that it's his fault for not appreciating who she really is, for still expecting someone else."

Fraser was running his thumb over his eyebrow. The three of them saw it and exchanged small smiles. He'd gotten the point; they hadn't been subtle.

Blair disentangled Jim's fingers from his hair. "Someone's had too much to drink."

"I believe you are correct," Fraser agreed.

"I'd better get him home," Blair said. "You can drive the GTO?"

"My car," Ray said.

"Ray, you are in no condition to drive," Fraser said.

"You think I'm drunk," Ray accused. "I'm not drunk. Blair, am I drunk?"

"Yes," Blair said.

"I'm not drunk," Ray said. "Jim's drunk. Blair, are you drunk?"

"No."

"Fraser? I wanna go home. Take me home."

"All right, Ray. Diefenbaker."

"See you guys later," Blair said. He watched Fraser carefully following Ray to the door.

Jim snaked his fingers through Blair's hair. "Maybe they'll have sex."

"Their first night?"

"Fraser's aroused."

"Ray's drunk. Fraser has too much honor and integrity to take advantage."

"Blair, can we have sex?"

"You called me Blair."

"Blair, can we have sex?"

"Not here, big guy. Come on."

"But I'm drunk."

"I'm taking advantage anyway."

"Good."

Jim had a hangover. Ray had a hangover. Jim was happy anyway, because he had Blair. Ray was fidgeting and nervous and high-strung, which was not the standard behavior of someone who was hung over.

Fraser walked into the precinct.

Ray practically fidgeted off of his chair.

Diefenbaker made a derisive noise and ignored the two of them.

Jim could see it immediately. Ray, drunk, made a pass at Fraser. Fraser didn't want to take advantage. The only question was whether Fraser had even temporarily indulged, or had stayed firm and resisted entirely. And had Ray tried to kiss Fraser, or invited the Mountie to sex?

Jim wondered when his life had turned into a voyeuristic soap opera.

Jim stroked his fingertips across Blair's navel. "Blair?"

"Yeah," Blair said softly, eyes closed.

"Have you noticed anything weird about Ray?"

"Why are you asking me about Ray? I thought that you were going to kiss me."

"I will, Chief. Answer my question."

"He's...unique. He runs on adrenaline and instinct. I got along really well with him immediately, which has happened before because I'm such a great guy, but it was weird how right from the start I liked him. You like him."

"He's...great."

"Why aren't you happier about that?"

"I don't know. It's like there's nothing wrong with him."

"He's perfect. You're jealous?"

"I'm curious. There must be some reason we like him so much."

"Not just because he's a good person in his own right?"

"He sizzles. He sparks. He-"

"What?"

"I'm trying to tell you something here."

"So tell me. He's a firecracker?"

"Something like that."

"What are we talking about, Jim?" Blair rolled to one side, up on one elbow. Jim copied his position, facing him.

"He's all energy and intuition, and I can feel it."

"Physically? On some psycho-kinetic wavelength?"

"I'm not saying we live in some science fiction universe where everyone has some weird mutant ability. I just think that there's something about him."

"He's special. And your Sentinel sense picked up on it."

"Maybe." Now he was reluctant. It sounded so unlikely...

"Let me look into it."

"Look into it?"

"Are you going to kiss me or not?"

Blair dropped beside Jim on the sofa. "First, either major evidence or major coincidence, remember when I died?"

"Blair-"

"No, seriously. We had that shared vision. You were the panther and I was the wolf. Wolf. Seen any wolves lately?"

"Diefenbaker."

"Ten points for you," Blair said. "And remind me, what sort of people have wolves?"

"Guides," Jim said.

"Ten more points."

"Fraser's a guide?"

"Fraser's Ray's guide."

"Ray needs a guide?"

"Someone to guide him through the physical world. Someone to keep him in touch with this reality."

"Ray lives in another reality? That's an interesting way of putting it, but you have a point."

"You're joking, but I'm serious. You've seen yourself how intuitive Ray is. He runs on instinct."

"He runs on caffeine," Jim said.

"Stop playing Scully and work with me here. Ray's very in tune with his sixth sense."

"He sees dead people?"

"I am not going to let you frustrate me, man. You work with your five senses, as we all may have noticed by now. Ray works with his sixth sense. Intuition, instinct, gut feeling, hunches, whatever you want to call it."

"And you found all of this neatly described in a book?"

"I'd love to work with Ray myself, but it's Fraser's job. I should work with Fraser, get him to understand his responsibilities."

"And what about the real Vecchio? His whole life and undercover job is just cosmic tool to bring together Fraser and Ray? The poor guy."

"Why don't you make that the first thing you say to Ray when I bring this up, okay? That really ought to help matters."

"I'll be sure to do just that, Chief."

Blair put down his cards. "I fold."

"Fraser, if you win one more time, I'll kick you in the head," Ray muttered.

"Another beer?" Blair offered, rising.

"Sure, thanks," Ray said.

"No thanks, Chief."

Blair went to the refrigerator and got a beer for Ray. "Did we ever tell you about our spirit guides?"

"Your what?" Ray asked.

"Real subtle," Jim muttered.

Blair smacked the back of Jim's neck. "Our spirit guides. Jim has a panther and I have a wolf."

"This is part and parcel of the Sentinel-Guide experience?" Fraser asked. "I thought that you served to guide Jim's spirit, Blair."

"I guide Jim's mind, help him to control himself."

"Now I sound incontinent," Jim muttered. Ray started to laugh. Blair glared at them and said, "The animal spirit guides work with our natures. They helped to bring us together. They warn us of danger."

"You're a wolf, hunh?" Ray asked, glancing at Dief.

"Go ahead, Chief, you're on a roll," Jim said.

"Your encouragement means so much to me, Jim, that as soon as we're alone I'll let you know all about it," Blair said with another glare.

"Sounds promising," Jim said, smiling.

"You wish." Blair turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "Jim works with the standard human five senses. Did you ever think about the sixth sense?"

"Sure," Ray said. "I use mine all the time. Fraser hates it."

"Don't you think that if there's a Sentinel, that there might be someone whose strength is his sixth sense?" Blair suggested.

"Blair, for all we know, there are people with sixteen senses. You're the expert, wouldn't you have come across it in your research?"

"If there were mentions of a very instinctual man with a companion who had a wolf, what would you think?" Blair asked.

"I'd think that someone's had too much beer," Ray said.

"Blair, certainly you are not suggesting that there is any connection between such a theory and Ray," Fraser said. "I understand your enthusiasm for your own experience, but you cannot apply it to all others."

"Don't you think that I would have noticed my superpowers?" Ray asked.

"Jim's abilities were only brought out when he was in the jungle for eighteen months," Blair said. "It took an extraordinary experience to make him aware of them. They were always there within him, latent. With a little work, we could - - you and Fraser could - - make you fully-"

"No way, Blair. I'm not seeing dead people. I'm not tuning in to the spirit world. I'm not talking to ghosts or understanding the will of the cosmos. And Fraser, he can't possibly be my guide. He discourages me from all of that stuff to begin with."

"Perhaps that is an unfortunate failing of mine, Ray."

"Don't even get started on this," Ray said. "You're the one who just said that Blair can't turn everybody into Batman just because Jim's got his groove on. Come on, I'm going home. I'll see you two tomorrow with no hard feelings. Let's go, Dief, pitter patter."

Jim kissed Blair. "Guess what," he said softly, and kissed Blair again.

"What?" Blair asked. "Jim, we're in a public bathroom.

"No one's coming."

"If you want to keep it that way, you'll stop groping me like that."

"Stop?" Jim repeated.

"No, no, don't stop. My mistake."

"Guess what."

"You want to fuck me?"

"That too."

"Then what?"

"I've got my groove on."

"According to a very reliable source, yes, you do."

"No one's ever said that about me."

"I'm sure that no one has, Jim. God, come on, man, we've gotta stop."

"Are you going to move - - remove - - your hand any time soon?"

"No way. Feels too good."

"I agree," Jim said, and moaned, kissing him more.

Ray looked hard at Dief. "Are you Fraser's animal spirit guide shaman thingie?"

"Diefenbaker may resent being called a 'thingie,' Ray," Fraser suggested.

"I don't know about this whole sixth sense thing," Ray said. "If I start seeing Bruce Willis, you just go ahead and lock me up."

"If you do see him, you might want to brief him on how real cops do their jobs," Jim suggested.

"Definitely," Ray agreed, and they slapped hands.

"You have to admit," Blair said, "we hit it off immediately."

"That's just because we're such fun, interesting people," Ray said, grinning.

"Okay, that explains why you and I got along, but what about Jim and Fraser?" Blair asked. He waited for it - - there. "Ahah."

"Ahah?" Jim repeated.

"You know how it's okay when you mess with me, but you don't like it when other people do?" Blair asked. "Ray's got it."

"Ray's got what?" Ray asked warily.

"You know, that thing where if Jim thinks that I'm threatened, he goes into full Sentinel mode and everybody better watch out?" Blair asked. "You do the same thing, with Fraser."

"Fraser's my partner," Ray said. "We watch each other's backs."

"Ray, you drove a motorcycle through a-" Jim began.

"He was in trouble," Ray said defensively. "He needed me."

"You've done all sorts of stuff to protect him," Blair said. "To be there when he needed you."

"Ray, Jim and Blair seem to be making their point," Fraser said.

"No they don't," Ray said. "What about how you don't even like all of my intuitive crap?"

"I only worry," Fraser said. "I fear that you may take it too far and lose touch with the hard realities."

"Ahah!" Blair said.

"Ahah?" Jim asked.

"That's totally what the Guide does!" Blair said. "Fraser's supposed to keep you in touch with reality, make sure that you don't go too far into your sixth sense."

"I'm supposed to zone on intuition?" Ray asked. "That's stupid."

"Let's not get insulting," Blair said. "Okay, do something. Do one thing with me, and if you really try and it really doesn't work, we'll give up."

"I don't believe you," Ray said.

"I don't either," Jim said.

"I, too, have my doubts about your willingness to relinquish-"

"Oh, just try it," Blair told Ray. "Naysayers, back off."

"It isn't really weird, is it?" Ray asked.

"It's just meditation. A guided meditation."

"I don't do that."

"Where do you go when you dance?"

"Where do I go - - you mean in my head, don't you? I don't know, I'm just...there."

Blair nodded. "Try this with me."

Ten minutes later, Ray was in the lotus position on the floor, in a circle of short candles. Blair lit a stick of incense that didn't offend Jim and said, "Fraser, you might want to pay attention." He sat in front of Ray. "Close your eyes." Blair talked Ray into a state of calm, then into a half-hypnosis. Jim was drawn to the Guide's voice. Low, soothing, and assured, Blair got Ray to fall into a deep meditation. Quiet ensued. Time passed. Occasionally Blair said something to check on Ray's state of awareness. At one point he said, "How do you feel?" Ray didn't answer. "Ray," Blair said.

"Ray," Fraser said. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray-"

Ray's eyes snapped open. "What do you want, Fraser?"

Blair grinned. "I love you guys."

"What were you thinking about, Ray? What was in your meditation?" Fraser asked.

Ray stood and pulled Blair up, too. He shrugged. "Just stuff."

"What stuff?" Blair asked.

"You told me to blank my mind, so I did. It was a meditation, Blair, not some mystical experience. I don't think your idea's working."

"You heard Fraser calling you."

"Sure."

"Did you hear me? Just before?"

"Awhile before, when I answered you. You asked me something about whether I was still there, and I said yes."

"Then I asked you how you felt, and you didn't respond," Blair said. "I called your name. You didn't answer until Fraser started talking."

"I was meditating, I don't know," Ray said. "I probably only heard Fraser because he's always there, saying something. I tune him out all of the time, and then he starts saying my name so I come back."

"Come back from where?"

"Stop reading something into everything!" Ray exclaimed.

"Jim, I want you to tell Ray about the fireworks," Blair said.

"Celebrating the Fourth of July?" Ray asked.

"I don't know why I tell you anything," Jim said to Blair.

"Jim's the one who started this," Blair said. "He came to me first."

"This is your fault?" Ray asked Jim.

"What are the fireworks, Jim?" Fraser asked.

Jim glared at Blair, then tightened his lips and looked at Ray. "You sparkle."

Ray looked down at himself, then back at Jim.

"It's you, or your aura, I'm not sure, but Jim says that you sizzle and spark. He says that you're all energy and intuition, and that he can feel it," Blair said. "As far as I know, he's never had this reaction to anyone else."

"I'm sparkly," Ray said. "Great. I drink too much caffeine and I have nervous energy."

"There may be more to it than your simple explanation covers, Ray," Fraser said.

"I know." Ray sat on the couch.

"You know?" everyone asked.

"Yeah." Ray leaned his head back and Dief came onto the couch, settling against him. "I thought it might be the caffeine, and if I'd been born a little later it would've been attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. But that's just an excuse. And I'm always off somewhere in my head, daydreaming, dancing. It's hard to stay grounded, you know? I'm a cop, I want to help people, and detective work, it's great, figuring things out, who did what when where and why. I like the work, I like to help people, keep Chicago moving, and I go with what feels right, turn left here, he must've done it, don't go in that door. This feels right, this doesn't feel safe, this looks suspicious. I know other people do it, but I've always...you know...noticed how when I say it sometimes people don't take me seriously when it seems so obvious to me. And I have seen one dead person."

"You did?" Blair asked, shocked.

"Yeah. Fraser's dad. Fraser sees him too, all of the time. I just acted like I didn't notice, because I didn't want to admit that I was insane."

"You aren't insane, Ray," Fraser said. "Far from it. I do wish that you had mentioned that you saw my father."

"Yeah, you could've introduced us."

"So now what?" Ray asked. "Now we get to practice? Blair's teaching Fraser how to guide me through this sixth sense thing? Hey, do I get an animal spirit guide thingie?"

"You have a turtle," Jim said.

"I wonder if there are other people with mystical powers," Ray said. "Jim's a Sentinel, I'm Sixth Sense Boy, maybe Turnbull's a practicing warlock or heals the wounded or something."

But that's another slashfic.

matthew@matthewtime.com
Sequel: "The Return of HJO"
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