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*****
If you set out to fix up your two best friends, making the restaurant
reservation, lubricating the dinner conversation, and paying the bill,
you'd be a catalyst. Also a cockeyed optimist, but that's another story.
     --Jones and Wilson, An Incomplete Education
*****

   They drove in the darkness for miles. Mandrake had told them that they were going to Calgary, so that their plane flight wouldn't be conspicuous.
   Jim didn't say, "Conspicuous to who?"
   He didn't say anything. He decided that he didn't care. It was silent in the vehicle, for the most part, and Joel was small enough that Jim couldn't see him in the front seat.
   When the lights of Calgary appeared on the horizon, Jim looked at Blair and realized that he was desperate for touch. He pulled Blair onto his lap and slid a hand into Blair's hair. After a few minutes, Blair opened his eyes.
   "I can't help noticing you didn't go home."

   [Not just a dream.]

   Jim was surprised how quickly, how easily, he could accept that.
   "One more time," he replied, "for those who obviously weren't listening before-- we're partners, Sandburg."
   Blair smiled, but it faded almost immediately.
   "I didn't want you to see that."
   Jim lay his face against Blair's.
   "Blair... did you really think I didn't know about all of the things you saved me from?" He kissed Blair's cheek, then pulled back and took Blair's face in his hands. As he looked at Blair he felt affection, gratitude, absolute trust... and the catalyst, working its magic.

   [I can't even see the shore from here. I want you to live forever.]

   Blair shut his eyes, and Jim matched the kiss Blair had given him in their dream. Then, very carefully, he drew Blair to rest against his shoulder again.
   "What day is it?" Blair asked sleepily.
   "Hallowe'en. Sorry, Chief."
   Blair was silent for a moment.
   "Samhain," he whispered finally, and went back to sleep.
   After a few more miles, Jim asked Mandrake what 'Samhain' meant.
   "Pagan holiday," he said. "It falls on October 31st." After a pause, he added, "On Samhain, the gates between worlds are open for anyone with the courage to pass through them."
   After days immersed in magic, after retrieving Blair from a world so dark he doubted they'd ever be free of it, Jim didn't have much use for the idea.
   "It doesn't take courage," he said. "It takes bad fucking luck."
   Mandrake opened his mouth to speak. Jim raises a hand.
   "Don't. Just drive. Blair and I want to go home."

*****
I lied...I stole in the name of fear, but I won't be silent here. I don't want
somewhere to run to. I don't want somebody I can shake. Lord, I want my
dignity again. Before I walk on fire, you gotta look me in the face. I won't
flinch, and I won't turn away.
     -Sophie B. Hawkins, Before I Walk On Fire
*****

   The smell of blood woke him. It wasn't likely to catch on as a substitute for coffee.
   After the past few days, Jim was conditioned to panic, and did so. He was halfway down the stairs before he realized that it wasn't very much blood.
   By the time he reached the bathroom door, he'd figured out that Blair's heart rate was more or less normal. Sure, the kid seemed a bit anxious, but that was to be expected.
   "Blair, you okay?"
   Blair was washing a few drops of blood from the sink with one hand and holding kleenex to his nose with the other.
   "Yeah," he said, "I guess so."
   Jim had checked him over the night before. They had finally stumbled into the loft about half an hour before dawn, dead on their feet, but Jim had insisted that Blair relent to a quick sentinel exam. Jim had decided that Blair was exhausted and scared and generally abused, but that he'd live.
   Now he looked at Blair's face in daylight and figured that whoever had given him that tap on the nose had gotten the worse end of the deal. Blair's arms were bruised, and his eyes were red, but otherwise he looked okay.
   "Should I see the other guy?" he teased. Blair's brow furrowed for a moment, then his tired eyes widened to an almost implausible size. Jim could see the effort it took for Blair to erase confusion and surprise from his face, followed the muscles as they smoothed.
   "Maybe. I don't know. Everything's kind of a blur."
   His heart was racing, and as it sped up, the nosebleed got worse. Jim led Blair into the kitchen and sat him down.
   "Keep still," he said There was a big secret lurking around here somewhere, but Jim didn't want to go hunting until that bleeding stopped.
   Blair started to stand.
   "I'm--"
   Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder and shoved him back into the chair.
   "--fine," Blair finished, glaring at him.
   "If that doesn't stop in ten minutes, I'm taking you to the hospital," Jim told him. Blair kept his eyes on Jim's, gauging his seriousness. Apparently satisfied, he relaxed in the chair.
   "You're a bully, Ellison," he said, not unaffectionately.
   "I am not a 'bully'," Jim lectured, as he set about making breakfast. "I am not some thug. I was in Covert Ops. At the very least, I'm your worst nightmare." He glanced at Blair and found the smile he'd been hoping for.
   "You're a goon, Ellison," Blair said.
   Jim sighed.
   "You're missing the point, Sandburg, but I'll let it go."
   The nosebleed stopped as Jim was setting the table for breakfast. They ate in reasonably comfortable silence. Jim waited until the table was cleared and Blair had moved to the living room before approaching the topic of the blood.
   "Chief, how did you get the nosebleeds?"
   Blair's shoulders tensed. As Jim rounded the couch, he could see Blair staring at nothing, lost in the construction of a lie.
   "Don't," Jim said sharply. Blair looked up, frightened. Jim sat down across from him. "Don't lie to me," he said gently, "Please."
   Blair took a deep breath.
   "Okay... but you've gotta promise not to flip out."
   "That is not a good beginning, Sandburg."
   Blair actually laughed, and the tension left his shoulders.
   "It's gonna sound worse than it is. I... I got them from trying to help those guys. You know, the...uh..."
   "Yeah, I know. Did they hit you?"
   "No. No, they weren't really that co-ordinated. Um... look, Jim, they weren't like you."
   Jim drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. He was starting to get angry, and he wasn't sure why.
   "How's that, Sandburg?"
   "This was an experiment with... well, basically, psychic abilities. I'm not sure exactly how it worked. I guess they've been at this for a long time, and they've... It's never worked out." He looked down, and the tension was back. "They were starting to think that heightened senses invariably caused..."
   Jim put his face in his hands.
   "And then they heard about me."
   "Yeah. Tom told his assistant-- You know about that?"
   "Oh yes. Tom's dead." Blair looked up so quickly that Jim couldn't help smiling. "I didn't do it, Chief."
   "Oh. Anyway, they-- What happened to Tom?"
   "Later. Keep talking."
   "They asked Tom why he thought you were okay, and he told them I had something to do with it. He showed them my master's thesis."
   "Jesus, Blair, I think I'm going to burn every copy of that thing."
   "I've considered that myself," Blair admitted. "Tom, being Tom, implied that I was able to keep your senses in order because I had some psychic ability, so they figured they'd take me to their test subjects and see if I could do anything for them."
   He stopped there, studied the carpet again.
   "And?" Jim prompted, his voice soft. Blair's shoulders were quivering. After a long silence, he raised his head, and Jim was shaken by the misery he saw on Blair's face.
   "I couldn't."
   Jim opened his mouth to say something, tell Blair it was okay, he didn't have to talk about it, but Blair was going on.
   "I tried, Jim. I swear, I ..." Tears were falling now, and Jim went to sit beside him on the couch.
   "I know," he soothed, putting his arms around Blair. "Ssh..."
   "They were in so much pain, and they all grabbed at me because they thought... somehow they knew I was supposed to help them. I tried so hard, but I couldn't and then I got this headache and nosebleeds and I couldn't get away from them anymore..." Jim was scared to crowd him, tried to pull away, but Blair pressed in closer. Jim tightened his hold.
   "Blair... c'mon, don't..."
   "How could I try to get away from them when they needed me so badly?" Blair was sobbing,but Jim understood every word. He bitterly hated his hearing.
   "You couldn't help them, sweetheart," he said, the endearment slipping out unnoticed. "I saw them..." He thought of those hollowed out eyes, and shuddered. "I know you tried, I know. Nothing you could do."
   He rocked Blair until the crying tapered off, then pulled back, and studied Blair's face.
   "Blair, does it hurt you to help me?"
   Blair shook his head.
   "No, Jim, this is one of the reasons I didn't want to tell you. I-- just a minute."
   Blair went to the washroom and washed his face, then came back and sat next to Jim. He'd composed himself in there, and met Jim's eyes steadily.
   "I've never gotten sick from helping with your senses. Frustrated, angry, damned near homicidal, sure..."
   Jim rewarded him with a smile, and Blair went on.
   "They were different. With you, I just talk, and it helps. They were... reaching into me, somehow. I don't understand it."

   [Reaching back, Blair. You slide under my skin every time you speak to me that way.]

   Blair sat up straight.
   "We left them there. We have to tell someone..."
   Jim shook his head.
   "No. We do not have to tell someone. We have to keep perfectly quiet about this."

   [And even that may not be enough.]

   "But they..."
   "They're dead."
   "What?"
   "Remember that weird little guy with the green eyes?"
   "Yeah."
   "He eliminated the place. Completely. Not a brick, not a piece of paper, not one person, there is nothing left."
   Blair took time to process that.
   "How the hell did he do that?"
   "He looked at it."
   Blair's jaw dropped.
   "That's a real good thing you done," he said under his breath. Jim looked at him questioningly. "What? Oh. Nothing. Forget it. What is that guy?"
   "A monster." Jim settled back against the couch. "I don't know... Isn't classifying monsters your area?"
   "No. That's, like, cryptozoology," Blair said, pretending to misunderstand. "I just study sentinels."
   Jim reached to ruffle his hair.
   "Okay. Have it your way."
   Blair gave Jim the sweet smile that he tended to produce when he got his way. It vanished quickly.
   "They're dead," he repeated.
   Jim felt his jaw clenching.
   "Best thing for them," he said. Blair gaped at him, horrified. The kid never seemed able to believe that death could be the best thing for anyone
   "Trust me," Jim said.
   Blair put a hand on Jim's chest.
   "Jim... you can't mean that. They were human beings. They probably had lives and people who cared about them. They just needed--"
   "They needed more than anybody could give them, including you. If I hadn't met you when I did..." It didn't take sentinel vision to see that he didn't want to take Blair to that place right now. "It doesn't matter. That didn't happen. I was lucky enough to meet you, and I'm fine."

   [And if we hadn't met, I'd like to think somebody would have been kind enough to kill me.]

   Blair didn't look at all comforted, but he dropped the topic, which was enough.
   "So," he asked, "how much trouble are we in?"
   That was a fine question. Jim wished he had a fine answer.
   "I'm not sure. I guess it depends on how many people outside Suffield knew that you were there. The military staff and the scientists probably slept in the barracks,so... we don't have to worry about them. I would guess the station had civilian staff who lived in the town, but I don't know how much these people were told."
   "So, it's possible they won't be able to trace us?"

   [In the sense that anything is possible...]

   "It's...possible, yeah."
   Jim didn't think he sounded convincing, but Blair seemed to accept it. He probably need to believe that, at least for now... and there was no harm in letting it go, for awhile.
   "You said Tom was dead?"
   "Yeah. That research assistant killed him."
   "Remind me," Blair said, "never to put in for a research assistant."
   Jim smiled a little.
   "The Edmonton police are still looking for a suspect. I didn't tell them very much."
   "But... that means they know who you are."
   There was no denying the truth of that. Jim nodded. He could see Blair following that through,seeing the obvious trail Jim had left, but the kid said nothing.

   [Guess we're never going to talk about this either. Not until we have no choice anymore.]

   "Whatever happens," he told Blair, "we'll be okay."
   It was more wishful thinking than fact, but Blair appeared to appreciate the sentiment. He leaned against Jim's shoulder as Jim turned on CNN, and neither of them spoke for a while.

*****

The word conspire comes from the Latin conspirare, "to breathe together"
     -The National Insecurity Council, It's a Conspiracy
*****

   "I can't believe," Jim said, "that an entire military station can vanish, and not one word about it on the news."
   "Careful Jim," Blair muttered from behind the cushion he'd wrapped himself around. "You're starting to sound like one of those conspiracy theorists."
   Jim gave him an evil look.
   "It's not like I don't know anything about military cover-ups... but a whole town full of people woke up this morning, and found the station gone. How can that not make waves?"
   The answer hung in the air, unspeakable.

   [Because someone is going to a lot of trouble to keep it quiet. And that means someone will be coming after us... sooner or later.]

   Blair's eyes were terribly sad.
   "What did I get us into this time?"
   Jim was holding Blair against his shoulder. He rested his chin on the top of Blair's head.
   "I don't know. Maybe nothing. Don't panic."
   As he spoke, Jim was thinking about plans he'd made years ago, just in case the government ever decided he was a loose end. They'd been made with only himself in mind,but he thought they could expand to serve two.
   "Look, Chief, I know you set off this particular chain of events, but that doesn't matter. You know there are other people who know about me, and they would've found us eventually. At least this way we managed to figure out was going on and get ourselves free of it. This could've been a lot worse." He gestured at Blair's emergency overnight bag, the one he kept near the door of his room. "Is that thing ready?"
   Blair raised his head.
   "Uh... yeah."
   "Good. C'mon."
   Jim stood and offered Blair a hand, pulled him to his feet. Blair grabbed the bag and followed Jim from the loft.

*****

At first I was scared when I opened up my head and the motor that was running was the mind of you

*****

   "How long have you had this place?"
   Blair was looking around the one-room cabin with something suspiciously close to admiration in his eyes.
   "About four years. That's, uh ..." he nodded at the narrow bed. "That's why it's built for one."
   "Right..." Blair sat down on the end of the bed. "What now?"
   "We wait. We'll find out pretty quick if it's safe to go home."
   Blair was running his fingers over the quilt, tracing the pattern.
   "And if it isn't?"
   "We move on. I have some things in place."
   "You really were expecting this," Blair said, almost to himself.
   "I wouldn't say expecting..."

   [How about, "terrified of"?]

   "You know I used to be a boy scout," he finished. Blair laughed.
   "This is a little more prepared than most people get.'
   "Hey, at least I don't have a bomb shelter."
   Jim felt oddly at peace. He'd checked the truck for bugs and homing devices before they left, and he was positive they hadn't been followed. He felt safe here.
   "I'm sorry, Chief... this plan of mine, if we have to use it, it's going to disrupt your life. A lot."
   Blair grinned. He seemed to share Jim's strange happiness, and Jim wondered if there was something in the water out here.
   "That," he told Jim cheerfully, "is not possible"

   [Sure it is. You have a teaching job, you're close to a doctorate...]

   Blair placed a hand on Jim's leg.
   "You're the one who hates chaos," he reminded gently.
   That was true. He did hate chaos, and as he'd told Blair when this whole mess started, he liked his life these days. Jim was going to say that it was all right, that he didn't mind, but when he looked into those concerned blue eyes he wound up telling the truth.
   "I'll live."

   [As long as you do.]

   Blair's good mood had left, the sun going back behind clouds.
   "Jim... I know I keep saying this to you, but I am so sorry..."
   "I told you, it's probably all the same in the end. Just a matter of time until they showed up at our door,even if we had never gone to Edmonton." Jim shook his head. "What I can't get over is this whole `Sentinel as super- soldier' idea. There you are, listening for the enemy, a gun goes off..."
   "Yeah, well, same problems as police work. And now that we've worked on your senses and you know how to control them, you're okay most of the time. I hate to admit this, but I'm not convinced that you even really need--"
   "I am." Jim's tone was harsher than he'd intended, but he wasn't about to apologize for it. "My senses behave for you. If I don't see you for a few hours, even a day, it's usually all right. But after that..." He frowned, trying to find the right words. "You don't have to do anything most of the time. Doesn't mean you're not helping me. I don't know... we must have some sort of connection. I don't understand these things."

   [I knew you were in the fountain.]

   "There might be a psychological dependence," Blair offered.

   [I didn't sense you. I couldn't *see* you, and you didn't have a pulse ...]

   Blair tried to move his hand from Jim's leg, but Jim caught his hand with his own.
   "You know better than that, Sandburg."

   [I just knew.]

   "Look, Jim, I know there was a time when you needed me, but--"

   [You said I'd know where to find you. Don't pretend you don't understand this now.]

   "Why are you doing this? You've spent three years convincing me of how much I do need you. I'm convinced. What's wrong with you?"
   Blair was studying the quilt. Jim pressed his hand.
   "Hey...Blair...what is it?"
   Slowly, Blair raised his head.

*****

I was scared when I looked at my reflection and the shine I saw were the eyes of you.

*****

   "It just means we're kind of stuck with each other."
   "Oh, God, is that all?"
   Blair looked terribly young.
   "I thought it would... bother you."
   Jim was confused.
   "Why would it all of a sudden bother me?"
   "What do you mean, all of a sudden? You just found out..."
   Jim would've laughed if he hadn't been sure that it would hurt Blair.
   "You think when I saw those... other sentinels, that's the first time I realized? I told you in the car, Blair, and I can't believe it was news to you then... I have always known that I needed you. I got used to it a long time ago. It used to bother me, some, but it's okay now. We like each other. I'm not going anywhere. I don't see a problem."
   Blair still looked miserable, and Jim was frightened by it.
   "Chief... you're not going anywhere, are you? I mean... do you want to?"
   He shook his head violently, curls flying.
   "No! You're family to me, Jim. Of course I don't want to leave. I just..."
   "You just what?"
   "I might have no choice."
   Jim sighed, ran his thumb across the back of Blair's hand.
   "If something comes up, if you have to go on an expedition or something, whatever it is...we'll deal with it."
   "You don't get it! I might have to leave you permanently, Jim. I almost--"

   [Died.]

   He didn't say it. Neither of them could

*****
I was scared when you touched my lips
*****

   "You came back," Jim said softly.

*****
and the breath I took was a breath that shook me
*****

   "You called me," Blair answered.

*****
with a shock like a flame, as eternal as a song, and the song is you and I
*****

   "But I can't promise that I'll be able to do it again."
   Jim moved to kneel in front of the bed Carefully, he took Blair's hands.
   "Blair, sometimes I feel like I'm in remission. I'm not cured."
   "It's not a damned disease!"
   "It would kill me without you, Blair. I would have died. But instead I met you and I've had all of these good years... maybe the best I've ever had. If you died tomorrow I'd follow you, but that wouldn't diminish the gift you've already given me."

*****
Whenever I'm alone and you're lost out there, I can feel you breathe 'cause our lungs we share.
*****

   He placed his hands on Blair's face.
   "My only complaint is that you're so reckless... you're so careless with both our lives."

*****
When I'm alone, anytime, anywhere, I can feel a heartbeat 'cause our blood we share.*****

   Those huge, pretty eyes were dark. That chestnut hair was falling forward as Blair looked down at him. Jim understood all of the things people said about angels.
   "Blair... I love you like my next breath."

*****
I was scared when you came into my room
*****

   Jim couldn't hold him close enough.

*****
The walls became the sea
*****

   He lifted them both to the bed and laid Blair back, running both hands over his body, stroking his hair. Blair reached for him, returned every touch. He met Jim's eyes

*****
Your voice was the moon
*****

   and said nothing. Jim understood it was consent.

*****
Oh, when you rocked me in your arms...
*****

   He was surprised by his instincts... this wasn't what he'd expected, not even something he could have guessed. They were going to rein in their bond tonight, give in to the drive they always felt to get closer, closer.

*****I will let you breathe through me
*****

   They were really going to do this. He touched his mouth to Blair's and Blair's mouth opened to him and Jim didn't want a thing he couldn't have.

*****
I will let you
*****

   There came a time, later, when Jim knew that it never really would be enough. He'd always want Blair closer, always want to draw Blair into his skin. But, oh, god...

*****
Be with me
*****

   He'd take what he could get. Gladly.
   Sometime close to morning, when Blair asked him if he could stand it if it turned out they couldn't go home, Jim kissed him and smiled.
   "I am home."

*****
-final 14 quotations from Breathe, by Maria McKee
*****

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