Chapter 1

Jim ran his questing hand up Blair’s thigh. The cool, silky material of the younger man’s pants slid enticingly under his hand. Blair appreciatively moaned into his mouth, both over the touch of his lover’s hand and the sensuous feel of the slick material next to his skin.

"Chief," Jim moaned.

Blair gave a little snort and Jim broke away from the kiss to see what was so amusing. Normally, laughter would not be a good thing while making love, but with Blair there was always a good explanation. The younger man looked up from where he lay on the couch, where his chest, not to mention the rest of his body, was flush against Jim’s chest, and shook his head ruefully.

"Man, you can’t even say my name when we’re making out."

Ellison rolled his eyes at his lover and propped himself up on one elbow. He gazed down at his beloved and was entranced by what he saw. Blair’s lips were kiss swollen and reddened from the passion of their lovemaking. The anthropologist’s curly brown hair was spread, in a wild disarray, on the arm of the couch, messed up from Jim running his fingers through it, over and over again. The detective winced, realizing that Blair was going to have a devil of a time combing through it later.

‘I’ll be forced to help him,’ Ellison thought with an internal grin. On the outside though, Jim managed to keep his smile soft and loving.

"So, I don’t say your name enough, hmmmm." Jim ran one finger down the center of Blair’s chest, just over the line where one side of the shirt was buttoned to the other. Blair closed his eyes for a moment at the sensation. Sentinel senses weren’t the only ones to appreciate the black silk pajamas that Jim had given Blair for his birthday the previous week.

"Nope," Blair said as he wriggled his butt into a more comfortable position on the couch. Jim’s breath caught in his throat and he let his hips twitch against Blair’s in response. Blair’s gasp indicated that the silk felt even better against his erection.

Jim shifted over a little so that his whole body weight wasn’t directly on Blair. He was a great deal bigger than the younger man and didn’t want to crush him. Ellison reached one hand between their bodies and gave the swollen flesh between Blair’s legs a good squeeze. Blair groaned and his chest arched up against Jim. To be fair, that was the only part of his trapped body that could move at the moment.

Light from the ceiling fixture glinted off of the shiny buttons on Blair’s shirt and Jim’s attention was captured by them. They were so round and black and the light swirled around them in a…
 

Blair was squirming happily under Jim, appreciating the heavier body blanketing him, and the hand on his groin even more, when he realized that his lover wasn’t moving any more. He opened his eyes and saw that Jim was staring blankly at something on Blair’s chest.

‘Damn, he’s zoned out,’ Blair thought. He quickly wormed his hand out from under his hip. Jim was kinky. Who would have ever guessed that? Certainly not Blair all those years ago, but it was true. The Sentinel liked to be in complete control sometimes—not really a big surprise—and had Blair tuck his hands underneath him. Sandburg figured that light bondage might be next.

"Jim. Jim, come on back to me. Hey, Big Guy, I know you’re in there." Blair ran his slightly numb fingers over the other man’s face as he talked, hoping that the physical as well as verbal stimulation would bring Ellison back without too much trouble. "Come on, Big Guy."

The Sentinel gave a slight shudder and blinked his way back to reality. One look at Blair’s concerned face and he realized what had happened. The Sentinel gave Blair a rueful glance.

"I’m not the only one who doesn’t use somebody’s name," he said, trying to divert his lover’s attention.

Blair relaxed now that Jim was back and arched a dark eyebrow at the bigger man. "What?" Now his hand was all pins and needles. Blair began to shake the sleepy appendage. Jim took the solid appendage into his even stronger one and began to massage it. Blair wanted to purr at the attention.

"You call me Big Guy all the time," Ellison explained, arching his considerably tamer, and more patrician looking eyebrow, at his folliclly endowed mate.

"Yes, but I call you Jim most of the time. You only call me Blair when one of us is about to die." Blair smiled in appreciation as Jim released his other arm, the one wedged against the back of the couch, and began to massage it too. "That makes a big difference, you know."

"Hmmm," Jim hummed as he worked.

"What did you zone on, man?" Blair watched in fascinated amazement as his big bad, ex-military, I can kill you with a toothpick, lover actually blushed and ducked his head. "Come on…fess up."

"Fess?" Jim laughed.

Blair smacked his lover on the arm. "Yes, fess. I told you that I lived in Texas with my cousins for a while. Fess is a perfectly good southern word." He drawled out the word southern in his best Texas drawl and saw Jim’s eyes dilate slightly. Blair wrapped one leg over Jim’s hip and squeezed slightly, earning an appreciative growl.

"So, darlin’," Blair continued in his honey sweet accent, "don’t change the subject."

Ellison tucked his head into the crook of Blair’s neck and muttered something indistinguishable. Blair shuddered at the sensation. "Wh-what was that?" The teasing accent disappeared with his renewed arousal.

Jim raised his head and sighed, giving in to the inevitable curiosity. "The buttons on your shirt."

Blair blinked in surprise and glanced down at said fasteners. "Oh, I never thought about that."

"Yeah." Jim frowned in exasperation; he so hated to show any sign of weakness and the ex-Ranger perceived these zone outs as a definite weakness. "The light shone off of them and that was that."

To cheer his lover up, and not lose the wonderful foreplay they had going, Blair leaned up and licked Ellison’s bottom lip. Seeing how that caught his lover’s attention, Blair licked a line all the way around the other man’s mouth and then sealed the line with his own lips. Jim quickly forgot his chagrin and leaned lower, making it easier for Blair to reach him. They kissed passionately for several minutes.

"I know how to eliminate that problem," Blair said as he licked his lips. Jim watched Blair’s tongue as it circled his own mouth and grinned.

"And how’s that?"

The observer reached up and began to slowly unbutton his shirt. He slid the button through its small opening and bared a little bit of his chest when he was through. Jim was fascinated by what Blair was doing. The anthropologist knew he didn’t need to seduce his lover, evidence of both their interest were pressing against one another, but a little fun never hurt anybody.

He reached for the next button and Jim’s hand stopped him. "I have an even better idea," the detective said huskily. "Let’s take this upstairs."

Blair grinned, his eyes sparkling. The couch was great for making out, but not so easy on the back when it came to the actual lovemaking process, as Blair knew to his vexation. There were many times he had hobbled around like an old man after they had had sex on the couch; and hadn’t the teasing from that been fun when he’d gone back to the station the next day.

By the time they landed on the upstairs bed, both men were out of breath from laughing. Blair had been walking ahead of Jim when the Sentinel had stopped him, mid-way on the stairs, and bit him on the butt. Blair was certain that his squeal of surprise had startled the neighbors. Ellison had just laughed at his mate’s astonished squawk and chased Blair the rest of the way, threatening to bite the other cheek as they ran.

"I can’t believe you bit me, actually bit me." Blair shook his head.

Ellison grinned unrepentantly. "What can I say? It was right there—so soft and round—just tempting me, so I grabbed hold."

Blair laughed and Jim rubbed the abused cheek. Again, the Guide was lying on his back underneath Ellison. It wasn’t that Jim was making Blair the wife in the relationship; it was the need for the Sentinel to sometimes be in complete control. Blair understood that, most of the time. Other times, it was the Guide who took control, letting Jim relax after a really tough case.

"Now, where were we?"

Blair reached up and began to slide another shiny button through the silk shirt. Jim watched in fascination. The Guide, being a very intelligent man who learns from previous error, wrapped his leg around his lover’s hips and rubbed his foot against Jim to keep him grounded.

The maneuver worked and Jim was still with him when Blair finished unbuttoning his shirt. The older man slowly pulled apart the silk to bare the silk of Blair’s chest hair. With a moan, Jim took hold of Blair’s chest, one hand on either side of his ribs, and leaned over, capturing one tempting nipple in his mouth.

Blair gasped and tried to arch up as Jim began to suck relentlessly on the small nub. However, Jim’s hands kept his torso steady and the Sentinel’s body, lying draped across his, effectively trapped his legs. He could move his arms now though and Blair clutched at the back of Ellison’s head with both hands.

Jim could sense when the hard nipple was being stimulated a little too much and let go of it with a final lick. He kissed his way across Blair’s chest and latched on to the matching nub on the other side. Hearing Blair cry out like that made Jim even more desperate to lay claim to the rest of his mate’s body…and so he did.
 

Later, after they were lying in bed, sated from their love making, was the first time the subject came up.

"Does it bother you that we won’t be able to have children?"

Blair, who had been almost asleep, opened his eyes and blinked at Jim in astonishment. They were lying in bed, facing each other, and he could barely see the older man in the pale moonlight coming through the skylight.

"I’m…not sure." Blair shifted closer and winced at the achy feeling in his butt. Jim had been particularly aggressive tonight when they’d made love; Blair guessed the extra seduction had done the trick. "What about you?"

Jim rubbed a hand on Blair’s chest soothingly. Blair knew that his heart rate must have shot up with his answer.

"Yeah, sometimes."

Blair knew his worried frown could be seen by the super-sighted Sentinel. He therefore wasn’t surprised when his mate rubbed a finger over his brow, erasing the frown living there.

"But having you is worth anything we might have missed." Jim kissed him on the temple, sorry that he’d brought the upsetting subject up now.

"Yeah…but still."

"Yes…still."

"We could always adopt kids," Blair suggested. "Same sex marriages are legal now, so it would be harder for the adoption agencies to discriminate against us."

Yes, eight months and one week ago exactly, it became legal all over the United States for couples of the same sex to get married. They joined Canada and a few other forward thinking countries around the world. Mexico and the United Kingdom followed suit shortly afterwards.

One week after the new law went into effect, Blair and Jim had gotten married, in a lovely outdoor ceremony in the park. The law had been new enough that the media had tried to make it into a circus, but their friends in the police department had managed to keep the wolves away.

Jim’s dad had conveniently been out of town that week and therefore unable to make the wedding of his eldest son and his gay lover. Steven, Jim’s younger brother, had been there with subdued congratulations. Naomi had been unreachable at a retreat that she sometimes went to.

Naomi hadn’t reacted well to Blair being with Jim at all, so the younger man hadn’t really been surprised. It wasn’t that they were gay that Naomi was upset about, it was that Jim was a cop.

Their friends at Major Crimes had taken their coming out of the closet in stride and their marriage was celebrated without any qualms. The absence of William and Naomi had been painful, but not that bad as the two parents had never really been a part of Jim and Blair’s life anyway.

"Or there’s always surrogacy." Blair came up another solution, like a priest making an offering.

"Hmmm, that’s true." Jim didn’t sound very sanguineous about that idea, so Blair let it drop. "We’ll see," Jim said drowsily. "Besides, I like it just being the two of us right now."

Blair closed his eyes and laid his head back down, on Jim’s chest this time. Sleep took a little while longer to achieve as little boys and girls, with varying shades of blue eyes, danced past his drowsy mind.
 

Chapter 2

Blair took his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes wearily. His head still ached fiercely from the concussion he’d received from being beaten up by Maya Carasco’s father’s goon. Working semi-undercover for Jim hadn’t been as interesting as they made it out on TV, especially when the young woman started putting the moves on him.

The anthropologist had tried explaining to Maya, patiently and at length, that he was married…to a man, but the young Chilean woman was determined for Blair to be her first. As flattering as that sounded, Blair wouldn’t have taken her virginity under false pretenses, even if he hadn’t been happily married.

Then, to top it all off, that FBI agent, Agent Drennan, had made a play for Jim. Although, to her credit, she did back off when Jim informed her that he and Blair were married.

Maya’s little scene in the spare bedroom hadn’t helped matters any. Blair had been resting there instead of upstairs, so that Jim could watch over him. It was either that or stay in the hospital overnight and Blair hadn’t wanted to do that.

Jim had been very put out when Maya blamed Blair for her father’s arrest, pointing out to the upset observer that he hadn’t made the man a criminal. After Blair had calmed down, and wasn’t so out of it with a head injury, he had agreed.

Blair was debating on whether or not to blow off the rest of his office hours in favor of going home and lying down, when there was a soft knock at his office door. Inwardly, he groaned, but on the outside, he pasted on a smile.

“Come in.” The greeting came out as more of a weak croak and Blair was surprised when he was actually heard.

“Blair?” Melissa Grayson, another grad student and friend of Blair's stuck her head in the room. She frowned at Blair’s appearance. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Melissa.” Blair gave her a tired smile and waved her in. “Just a headache,” he admitted.

“You should go home,” was the fellow anthropologist’s advice. The young woman stepped into Blair's office, a sheaf of papers in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Blair's stomach rolled as the smell of her drink wafted over him.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Blair leaned his head against his open palm and sighed.

She gave him a long look. “I’ll come back on Monday,” she stated and started to turn around to leave.

“No, that’s okay.” At Blair’s insistence, she came back over and sat down. Amazingly there was an available chair, not something that happened on a regular basis in the overly crowded office. “What’s up?”

Melissa was still contemplating Blair’s pale face. She shook her head and smiled. Long, slender braids, ones that reached well past her slim shoulders, swished at the movement. The small gold beads on the tips of each braid clinked together faintly.

“I wanted to bring you your teaching schedule for this summer.” The young woman smiled and handed over the papers.

“Thanks,” Blair said as he took the thin sheaf of paperwork. “This saves me a trip down to the main office.”

“No problem,” she waved a delicate brown hand negligently. “I was in the secretary’s office anyway and grabbed yours when I was getting mine.”

Blair gave the paper a quick going over; his head wouldn’t let him do much more right at the moment. He groaned at what he saw.

“What is it?” The other grad student asked.

“I’ve got three Antro 101 courses.”

“Sheesh,” Melissa empathized.

The introductory courses were usually filled with Freshman. Those young and largely undisciplined students were generally wildly out of control. The kids were especially wild during the summer semester when they’d rather be at the pool. Or the classes were filled with people expecting to make an easy A from the intro class, and quite often got mad when they didn’t.

“I don’t envy you.”

“Thanks.” Seeing the work schedule he was going to have for the next several months hadn’t helped his headache on bit. “What did you get?”

“I lucked out,” she admitted. “I’ve been assigned one mid-level class and a very advanced class.”

Melissa was smiling at the prospect and Blair couldn’t blame her. The advanced classes were extremely limited in class size—she probably wouldn’t have more than 10 students, if that many, to contend with. The mid-level class would be filled with students more students, but they would be eager to learn and interested in the subject matter. Whereas, he would have 40-50 per class, and few, if any, of the students would actually care about anthropology.

“Cool.” Blair tried not to be envious at her good luck.

“Thanks.” She stood up once again. “I better get going and you should go home.” Her steps faltered and Melissa looked back at Blair, who was getting paler by the moment. “Do you have a ride home? I really don’t think you should be driving.”

“Uh, no, I don’t,” Blair admitted. “I drove in today.”

“Hmmm, well you certainly don’t need to be behind the wheel this afternoon. How about if I give you a ride home,” the young woman offered.

Blair started to object and then decided the hell with it when a pain, like a spike being stabbed into his head, almost made him cry out. He needed to get home, to his bed and his medicine, before it got any worse. Besides which, Melissa only lived a few blocks away from the loft, so it wouldn’t be that far out of her way.

“Thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that.”

The anthropologist gathered up his backpack and a few papers he might need and followed his friend outside. By the time he got to the front of Hargrove Hall, Melissa had driven her car around. Blair was grateful, because the bright sunlight was making his head throb.
 

Keeping his eyes closed helped a little. Blair hoped Melissa wasn’t offended by the lack of conversation, but it wasn’t easy being witty when your brain was trying to pound its way out of your ears.

“Did you catch the news story?”

Her soft voice didn’t hurt too badly. “What story?” Blair asked quietly.

“About men having babies.”

He slit one eye open and looked over at her to see what the joke was. The young woman was busy watching the road, but she seemed serious enough.

“Say again,” he said with a high degree of astonishment…and who could blame him.

“Yes, it’s true.” She nodded her head. “I saw a whole story about it.”

Blair closed his eyes and swallowed hard when his stomach gave a suspicious quiver. “I’ve seen that page on the net, it was all a hoax.”

“Oh no,” Melissa disagreed. “I saw that one too. This came out over the AP wire service.”

That recaptured Blair’s attention. If it was from a legitimate news source…

“Apparently there is a research facility in Canada that has come up with a way for men to conceive and carry a baby. It’s far enough along that they are having the first trial right now.”

“Uhm…oh.” Blair didn’t know what to say…or think…or feel. The conversation he and Jim had had several months ago still rattled around in his brain sometimes. He was almost haunted by their specter children.

“Here we are.”

“What?” Blair’s mind was under a lot of strain at the moment and he wasn’t thinking as clearly as he normally would be.

“We’re at your place.” Melissa smiled and nodded at Blair’s side of the car.

The grad student carefully turned his head and realized that while he’d been preoccupied with the astonishing news, they’d gotten back to the loft. “Oh!” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “We’re home.”

Opening the car door, Blair unpacked himself from the very small compact and gave a brief prayer of thanks that he wasn’t as tall as Jim or, heaven forbid, Simon, otherwise, he never could have extracted himself. At least, not and lived to tell the tale. Jim would have been stuck and poor Simon would have needed a can opener to even get his tall frame into the car in the first place.

‘Or a shoehorn,’ he thought with an internal giggle.

“Thanks for the ride, ‘Lis.”

She gave a dismissive flap of her hand. “No prob. If you need a ride back on Monday, just give me a ring.”

“I may do that.” Blair started to shut the door and hesitated. Before he could change his mind, Blair glanced back. “Hey, do you happen to have a website address for that story you saw?”

“Sure do,” she said with a cheery smile. “I’ll e-mail it to you.”

“Thanks.” Blair’s smile wasn’t quite as blinding, but he tried.
 

Jim heard a moan when he slammed the front door. The Sentinel hadn’t intended to make so much noise, but the door had slipped out of his hand. The hinges hadn’t been the same since Lash had trashed the door. As an aside he decided to get some new hinges this weekend and fix the door properly.

Ellison stood still for a moment and tracked the soft, rustling sounds upstairs to his and Blair’s bedroom. Moving quietly, which was exceptionally silent—not surprising, considering his natural disposition—Jim hurried up the loft stairs.

Blair was lying on their bed, curled up on his side, with Jim’s sleeping mask over his eyes. Jim slowly lower

The End.