Blair could hear the sound of a gun being cocked. At close range. He was no Sentinel, but he knew the sound. It was unmistakable.

"Tempting as that offer is, Blair's going to have to pass."

The look on Emory's face was priceless. "You know, Detective Ellison, you are rapidly becoming a thorn in my side."

"Beats being whatever the hell it is you are."

Jim gestured with the barrel of the gun, indicating that Emory should prepare to be arrested. "It bothers you that you can't fit me into a convenient category, doesn't it, Ellison?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something," Jim replied dryly. "Chief, get my handcuffs for me," he directed.

Emory pursed his lips, his bright green eyes narrowing their focus to only one man. Jim Ellison. "I can't even begin to imagine what you think you're arresting me for."

"How about rape?"

Emory smiled. It was not a becoming look at all. It was as if something dead inside him suddenly flared into life. "Not even close."

"There's always extortion."

"Oh, come now, is there any evidence of coercion? Mind you, I expect you to take a good look, Detective. Take a real good look."

Jim's light blue eyes flickered from Emory to Blair and back again. "You okay, Chief?"

Blair heaved a sigh of exasperation, snapping the handcuffs over Nolan Emory's wrists. "He's right, Jim," Blair muttered under his breath. "You blew it. Bigtime. You stepped in way too soon, man."

Jim maintained his grip on his gun by sheer force of will. "Chief-"

"You always think you know best, Jim," Blair interjected angrily. "Well, sometimes, you're a bigger fuck-up than I am."

Jim's mouth fell open in disbelief. "I didn't expect gratitude, Sandburg, but-Shit, did you expect me to stand by and let him fuck you? For the sake of the case? Jeez, how fucked up is that?"

A deliciously sly smile crept across Emory's handsome features. Granted, he was still smarting from being one- upped by a mere…cop. But the battle wasn't over yet. It sounded like Ellison was his own worst enemy.

"I'm just saying that it would be nice for you to rely on my judgment, once in a while, that's all. It's not like I don't know what I'm doing here, Jim."

"Oh, right, Chief. You were so fucking scared, you were shaking."

Jim gasped sharply as he realized what he'd said in front of Emory, and Blair closed his eyes with a moue of disgust. "Thanks, Jim," he whispered as he turned to walk away.

Jim watched in silence as Blair's footsteps faded away into the distance. He listened as Blair's heartbeat grew fainter…

…until it was almost like that day. That day Blair d-d- shit, he died, Ellison, he fucking died.

Emory offered Jim his manacled wrists. "Take these off."

With a visible shudder, Jim came back to himself, realizing that he had just experienced a short zone-out. "No."

"I'll have you up for false arrest so quickly, you won't be able to get a job as a security guard in Woolworth's."

"Woolworth's is out of business."

"So?"

Jim smiled. "So are you."

"You'll never make this stick, Ellison," Emory shouted as Jim began to walk away.

"Try me."

Suddenly Jim turned on his heel and spun around, surprising Emory by bending to fit his key into the cuffs' lock. "Now you're beginning to make sense, Detective," Emory started to congratulate him. Prematurely. "I'm so glad you see things my way."

Jim slipped the cuffs off Emory's hands and blinked, his expression changing abruptly to one filled with rage. "I will never see things your way, Emory. You got that? Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to kill you." Jim leaned closer, so close that Emory swore he could see the veins and arteries pulsating under his skin.

"But that would take me away from Blair…and I won't do that to myself. No matter how much you deserve it."

"Then you admit that you made a mistake, Detective. Blair and I were merely…coming to terms with each other," Emory lied smoothly.

"There's a name for people like you. Keep your hands off him."

"Now, now, Jim, may I call you Jim? You're forgetting about the…suggestions I made regarding your tenure at the Police Department."

"Is that a…*threat*, Emory? Cause if it is…"

"Of course not." Emory gave Jim a withering glance. "But if I may say so, Detective," he emphasized with frost in every word, "if Blair should become a…*free* agent, he could do worse than to end up with me."

Emory began to nod slowly, as if a plan only he could see was coming to fruition. Soon. Very soon. "You're doing a far better job of pushing him into someone else's arms than I could ever do, Detective. Keep up the good work. I'll be there waiting when Blair finally walks out on you."

This was so close to what Jim often felt, deep in his heart, that he visibly reacted. He wanted to smash something. He needed the physical release. Emory's face just happened to be there. It was Fate.

As Jim punched, his fingers caught the corner of Emory's mouth, tearing a jagged laceration across the side of his face. Nolan Emory would heal. Eventually. But he would never be pretty again.

"That was stupid, Ellison," Emory rasped as he swiped at the blood already trickling down his neck. "You're throwing your life away." He snorted inelegantly. "Just like he did. Maybe the two of you do belong together."

"Thanks, Emory. All this time I've been agonizing over the fact that this is where Blair died. All this time I've been tormented by what he gave up. The only saving grace being that I managed to bring him back. But you know what?"

Jim moved towards the older man, heartened to see that he had the good sense to back up, not certain what to expect anymore. "This is where Blair came back to life. Now it's my turn to give up something. If that means giving up my work, so be it. Cause he's the one who brought me back."

Something inside Emory seemed to shrink. Where was the man's aristocratic bearing? Where was his answer to everything and anything? Where was the magician who made it look so easy to dissemble and disappear?

"And I'll tell you one more thing," Jim uttered hoarsely. "He may not stay with me, but you'll never get your hands on him. Not as long as I'm alive."

"It's his life. His choice."

Jim closed his eyes and heard an all-too-familiar litany start up in his head. Don't leave me, Chief. Please.

Oh, they found Nolan Emory in the fountain the next day. Sitting there in his expensive suit. Wet, disheveled…handcuffed to the statue in the middle of the pool. When they asked him how he got there…he didn't have a word to say.

"Chief?"

Jim's voice sounded loud in the silent loft. Blair was nowhere in sight, but that meant nothing to a Sentinel. He could hear his heartbeat. It was a little too fast, but he attributed that to the events of the night before.

The sun was just coming up and Jim could easily zone on the huge orange orb. For a moment, he considered doing just that. It was so tempting, the idea of letting go and falling face forward into the overpowering light.

But then he thought of Blair and the darkness in him, so drawn to that light, faded back into the shadowy depths inside. Blair was his light. And he shone brighter than the sun.

"Chief?" he called again as he approached the stairs. No answer. Opening up his senses, he quickly located Blair. He wasn't upstairs at all. He was in his old room. Oh, no…

He pushed the French doors apart and stopped. He wasn't surprised that Blair was awake. His eyes, obviously reddened and swollen, mirrored the younger man's inner anguish. "Aw, Chief…" Jim whispered. Blair looked so terribly wounded, Jim couldn't bring himself to raise his voice any further.

"You didn't come home last night, Jim," Blair said, his features drained of all animation.

"I had to, uh, take care of…Emory," Jim said hesitantly, suddenly uncertain of the outcome of this conversation.

"Right. You probably beat the crap out of him, huh? Bet it made you feel better. Like a real man."

"Chief-"

Tears blurred Blair's beautiful blue eyes as he struggled to make eye contact. "Do you know how worried I was, Jim? When you didn't come home?"

Jim couldn't look into those eyes any longer. "Blair-"

"I was so afraid to fall asleep, Jim. I was so afraid that you weren't coming back…and…and…it was all my fault."

"None of this was your fault, Chief."

"I'm supposed to watch your back, Jim. I'm supposed to be your partner in every sense of the word now. But I left you. I fucking left you, man."

"You didn't leave me, Chief," Jim said, kneeling on the carpet beside the bed. He grasped Blair's hands in his. "I drove you away."

Jim reached out and touched the side of Blair's face, his fingers tracing an idle pattern around his earring. "You remember when you accused me of acting like a caveman?"

Blair nodded without speaking, his blue eyes darkened to a shade not unlike a starless night sky. "I couldn't help myself, Blair. I didn't mean to treat you like a possession instead of a person. But I felt this…overwhelming need to protect you…at any cost."

Blair looked like the bottom had fallen out of his world. "You think that all of this, us loving each other, is just part of the territorial imperative?"

Jim anchored his hands in Blair's hair and pulled him close enough to kiss. Their lips a breath apart, Jim stared into Blair's eyes before dropping his gaze to Blair's mouth. "Biology can only explain part of what I feel, Chief. The rest is just…*you*. I love you. The very essence of you."

He brushed his lips against Blair's, his tongue flicking out to capture that full lower lip that made Blair look so sensual. "I love you so fucking much, Blair," Jim said, his voice breaking. "But if you want to go, I won't stand in your way." I'll just fucking die without you, Chief.

With a soft cry, Blair buried his face against Jim's neck, feeling the older man's throat move restlessly as he tried to suppress tears. "I don't want to go, Jim," Blair whispered, "I love you, too."

For the longest time, Jim knelt there on the floor, Blair in his arms, imagining that this must be what it felt like to hold a sunrise.

A long time later, Jim reluctantly stood up, not without considerable stiffness and discomfort in his knees. He pulled Blair to his feet, wrapping his arms around his sleepy Guide. "Come upstairs, Chief. You look like you're out on your feet."

Blair cocked his head, his eyes half hidden by the downsweep of fancifully long eyelashes. "Sleep with me," he entreated.

Jim suppressed a smile. "If I get into bed with you, Chief, neither one of us will sleep."

"And this is a problem because?"

Jim nuzzled Blair's neck, his mouth latching onto the tender skin there. Suckling, licking…marking. With a huge sigh, Jim retreated, forcing himself to release Blair from his embrace. "*You* can sleep, Blair. I have to go to work."

"Jim! You've been up all night!"

"The bad guys don't care about whether or not the good guys get enough sleep."

"But I want you to stay, Jim," Blair groaned.

"I wish I could, but-"

The phone rang with an all but deafening shrillness. As one, they turned to look at the offending object. "It can't be."

"I'm sure it's not."

They listened to it ring two, three, four times. All the while they stared at it, transfixed, as though it were a poisonous snake coiled to spring. When it rang for the fourth time, the answering machine picked up with an audible pop.

All at once Simon's voice boomed across the room, making Jim wince and put his hands over both ears. "Ellison! Sandburg! I know you're there, so pick up the damn phone!"

Blair blinked and Jim shrugged. Jim picked up the cordless and put it to his ear. "Yes, sir?"

"What the hell did you do to Nolan Emory?"

"Do, sir?"

"And stop repeating everything I say, dammit! What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, sir. Things couldn't be better."

"Really. Then tell me how come Nolan Emory was found handcuffed to a statue in the same fountain where Sandburg was drowned." Jim could no more ignore the command in Simon's tones than he could resist the pull of his love for Blair.

"Well, sir, it's a long story."

"Lucky for you, I have plenty of time." Pause. "Now get your ass back here and talk to me face to face!"

"I-"

"And bring the kid with you!"

"I—Simon, he's not a kid."

"Good thing, too, or you'd be locked up for robbing the cradle," Simon said with a smile in his voice. An audible smile. What a concept, as Blair would say.

"Captain…Simon…Blair and I-"

Blair rolled his eyes. "What Jim is trying to say is…we haven't had any sleep since the day before yesterday!" he shouted into the general vicinity of the phone.

"You can't have the day off, Sandburg. Besides, you don't exactly work for me. You belong to Jim."

Blair all but bounced up and down, causing certain parts of Jim's anatomy to run for cover. "Thank you, Simon!"

"Sandburg, you listening to me? I said no! N-O. No!"

"Jim will find a way to make it up to you, sir."

Jim's eyes widened. "I will?" he mouthed at his unrepentant lover.

Blair chuckled, and the sound of that voice, low and deep, sent shivers down Jim's spine. Blair hung up the phone. Without another word, he wound himself around Jim's body, sighing happily when he was done.

Pointing in the direction of Jim's bed, he commanded, "Home, James."

Hey, a Sentinel has to listen to his Guide. It's in the official rulebook.