When, How and Why


By alyjude


Last line from Who, What, Where:

//So, where do you want to do it?//



Location: Jim's truck

Jim: Location is a "no-brainer", Chief. The only question is; When?


Blair: Um....I guess I'll just have to let you know when I'm ready....Got to be "in the mood" so to speak.


Location: Bullpen

Brown: Did you hear? Sandburg beat Ellison!


Rafe: When? (unbelieving)

Brown: Last night. (honest!)

Rafe: Are you sure? (no &*%$#@^ way!)

Brown: Positive. (shoulders slumped)

Rafe: There is no way Sandburg could beat Ellison at anything! No. Way. (shoulders slumped even lower than Brown's)

Brown: Rafe, Jim told me so himself. (shoulders dragging on the ground

Rafe: When? (shoulders *below* ground)

Brown: Not one hour ago. In the breakroom.

(bleak is Brown's life)

Rafe: The world is coming to an end if Sandburg can beat Jim Ellison.

(confession, need to go to confession)

Brown: Hey! (brightening) Think Ellison let hairboy win? (yeah?)

Rafe: Let him? (getting even brighter)

Brown: Yeah, I mean, there's no other way, man. (the tree at

Rockefeller Center has nothing on bright compared to Brown right now!)

Rafe: And the reason for Ellison "letting" hairboy win would be?

(someone just pulled the plug)

Brown: He's in love (you moron)

Rafe: So? (you moron)

Brown: Men in love do crazy things, you know that! (double moron)

Rafe: Ellison let Sandburg win because he's in love with him? Is that it? Because that would be like, so demeaning. No way. (emphatic)

Brown: Okaay....I'll buy that. So there must be another reason..

(thinking hard, or hardly thinking)

Rafe: Don't strain yourself there, H. After all, when was the last time Jim Ellison played "miniature" golf? (major sarcasm)

Brown: Right! (snapping fingers) Of course, talk about stupid. Ellison probably played three courses at the same time! Hell, the penalties alone woulda killed him! (well, I feel much better now)

Rafe: Uh, Brown? They don't *have* penalties in miniature golf. I mean, come on.....(in his best sportscaster voice) Mr. Ellison will receive a two stroke penalty for hitting the windmill and dislodging Barney the seagull......and that'll be a six stroke penalty for killing a goldfish in Cinderella's pond.....(giggling)

Brown: Okay, okay, I get it. (trying not to giggle)

Rafe: .....and a four stroke penalty for having two six year olds "play through"...and, and....(can't breathe)

Brown: And a three stroke penalty for losing your ball......(or is it "loosing"?)

Rafe: NO! Losing your "balls"...to your partner!

(or is it "loosing")

Both men are laughing so hard, they have to hold onto each other....Megan and Rhonda come in, arms linked and stand in front of the two men.

Megan: Well, I'm glad someone is happy. When did detective work get to be so funny? (best Australian snooty voice)

Rhonda: When Rafe and Brown are involved?

Detective work is "always" funny! (American snooty....much better than Australian snooty)

Rafe: Keep it up girls and we'll never let you in on it....(taunting....but he does have a beautiful, taut body)

Megan: And since when would we care? (oh, so sweetly)

Brown: It's about Sandburg and Ellison....(in a sing-song voice *and* taunting, but no one could accuse him of having a taut body! Cuddly, yes....)

Both women look at each other, then back to the men. Megan steps close to Rafe.

Megan: Speak or start thinking soprano.

(eyebrows wiggling with evil intent)

Rafe: Okay, we surrender. (hands up)

Rafe & Brown: Sandburg beat Ellison at miniature golf! (triumphant, but their unison is like, *way* off)

Megan & Rhonda: Oooh....(shaking) Tell us it ain't so! (mocking *and* their unison is perfect)

Rafe: Brown, I think they're making fun of us.

(hurt with puppydog eyes)

Brown: Ya think? (*really* sarcastic because only Sandburg can successfully *do* puppydog, but that's fanon, not canon)

Rhonda: Sandburg beating anybody at anything is hardly news. (she's still smitten, despite her new found love, Megan)

Megan: Well, now, honey....I doubt he could beat us at the firing range...or out fight us. (jealous, Megan?)

Rhonda: He's a pacifist! (highly indignant) But he *can* outrun, out talk and definitely out think all of you! (so there! But I love you, Megan)

Rafe & Brown: Oooh, now we're shaking....*and* our unison is back!

(they high 5 each other)

Megan & Rhonda: Men! (only good for opening jars and taking out the trash!) (no, wait, Megan can do that!)

Rafe & Brown: (looking at each other and frowning) Out *think* us?





Blair Sandburg walked slowly and painfully over to the couch and *very* carefully sat down. Once seated, he toed off each shoe, laid his head back and gave an unnecessarily loud sigh. The sigh did not escape the notice of his sentinel.

Jim Ellison was in the kitchen getting a beer and as the sigh reached him, he automatically reached for a second bottle.

"Here ya go, Chief." Handing down the beer.

"Oh, man, will this hit the spot." He grabbed eagerly and took a long swig.

"So, Chief. You seem a little......sore."

Blair was just taking the bottle away from his lips as Jim spoke and couldn't stop the *whoosh* of liquid that left his mouth. Coughing and gagging, he leaned forward and tried to wipe his mouth and chin with the corner of his shirt. Jim decided to be "very" helpful and plopped down next to the choking man and began some rather "hard" back-thumping.

"Gee, Sandburg, you need to be more careful. You could choke to death." His tone was soft, even...conciliatory, but the thumping got harder.

"Jim...(cough)...stop....(sputter).....*you're*....(wheeze) ....killing....(gurgle).....me!" With that,

Sandburg moved away and tried to stand but between the tears streaming down his face *and* his now very sore shoulder blades *and* his sore legs, he didn't make it. He started to fall forward, toward the sharp edged coffee table but his eagle-eyed, sentinel quick partner grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. Into Ellison's arms. Sandburg landed with an "oomph" and his beer went flying. And landing. On Ellison. The detective immediately jumped up as beer rained down.

In jumping up he threw Blair down. On his ass, on the floor.

"Oooww!" The whine filled the loft. Ellison ignored it.

"Yuck! Jeesh, Sandburg, how'd you do that?"

Ellison stepped over the younger man and headed to the bathroom, mumbling all the way.

"How does he do this? There's always something with him."

Blair stayed on the floor because he couldn't get up. So he simply took advantage of the situation and made himself comfortable by resting his head back on the cushion and deciding that "now" was the time to collect on the bet.

Jim came out of the bathroom, still towelling himself dry.

"Sandburg, you're still on the floor."

Eyes closed, he answered, "Okay, it's now abundantly clear to me "how" you became a detective.....you're *major* observant! And by the way? I want to collect on the bet. Now."

"Now?" Ellison's voice actually *squeaked*.

"Yes, Jim, now. The reason I'm still sitting on the floor is because....I can't get up. My legs still hurt from this morning, you "thumped" my shoulders raw and you dropped me on my ass.

So yes, I want to collect now. You owe me seven ways from sundown!"

Jim had moved to stand worriedly over his friend but at Blair's words,

Jim began to smile.

'Sandburg, I *told* you to stay in the truck this morning, so......".

"You always tell me to stay in the truck," Blair interrupted, "But the guy ran right past me, Jim.

How could I just let him go?"

Ellison knelt so that he was level with the other man, "How? Simple.

He runs past you, I run past you, I catch the guy, you stay in the truck. You stay safe. See? That's how it works."

"Jim, you weren't even close. And I can outrun you any day of the week."

"Yeah? So how come you have the sore legs? Tell me that Mr. Run So Swift."

At that challenge, he lifted his head, eyes blazing.

"My *&%^$#* legs are sore because "you" tackled me! You're just lucky I was within grabbing distance and could bring your suspect down with me! And just *how* does a Sentinel mistake me for a 6'5, bald behemoth anyway?"

Jim stood up straight and held out his hand to help Blair stand. As he pulled him to his feet he explained, "I didn't mistake you, Chief. I tackled you on purpose. He was about to turn on you and he had a gun."

Indigo eyes blinked up at Ellison and Sandburg's face went red.

"Yeah, well, okay."

Jim grinned broadly and it must have been contagious because the smile spread to Sandburg. Although Sandburg's took on a decidedly wicked quality.

"So, Jim, you ready? I want to collect that bet.

I *need*it."

Ellison rolled his eyes, "Yeah, fine. A bet's a bet. So, how we gonna work this?"

"Meet me in my room in ten minutes. And bring the stuff." Sandburg headed to his room and Ellison couldn't help but notice that for a man complaining of so much pain, he moved with surprising alacrity.

Jim went back to the bathroom, took a big, fluffy towel and grabbed the bottle of oil.

Entering Sandburg's room he found the young man lying face down across the width of the bed. He'd placed a pillow on the edge and was using it to cushion his head as it hung half way over the end, his hair falling forward. He'd also taken off his clothes. All of them.

Ellison stopped at the edge of the bed and stared down at the vision below him. He'd never seen anything nor anyone as beautiful as Blair was at that moment. Jim was actually having difficulty breathing and he could feel the sweat trickle down his back.

Blair's slightly muffled voice brought Jim out of a near zone out.

"Jim? Come on, man, I'm getting cold here."

"Uh, Chief, you're not wearing any clothes."

"Jim, this wouldn't work very well with my clothes on, now would it?"

"Right. Um, how do I....I mean?"

Blair turned his head and peeked through his hair, "You got the towel?"

A nod.

"The oil?"

Another nod.

"Well, just start. But go slow at first, you need to relax me. Once I'm relaxed you can really start pounding."

"Yeah....slow....relaxed.....pound, oh god....Okay, well, first....roll over so I can put this towel under you...don't want to get your bed wet."

Sandburg did as he was told, which gave the sentinel an exquisite view of his *front*. Ellison was forced to swallow several times and clear his throat as he realized that drooling all over his partner might be considered "gross".

Once Blair was back on his stomach Jim was faced with a decision. Start at the top? Or the bottom?

"Blair, how would you like....I mean, do you have a preference? Top or bottom? I mean, I'm not sure exactly *how* to do this."

Blair's muffled voice was tinged with surprise.

"Are you telling me this is your first time? You've never done this before?"

"Well, not exactly. Not this *exact* thing. To someone else. I've "had" it done to me. But..."

"Well, do to me as you would want it done to you."

Ellison took a deep, calming breath and just as he was about to drop onto the bed, Sandburg shifted and his incredible ass moved and Jim nearly lost it right there.

"Blair, how about the best two out of three? You know, a re-match?"

Blair rolled onto his side, propped his head on his hand and looked at his partner with complete disgust.

"My God, Ellison, it's a God Damn massage! And you will never beat me so be thankful that this was *all* I wanted. I could have asked for the truck for a week!"

"In your dreams, Sandburg and you've asked for a Full Body Massage!"

"Yeah? So? I've got something you haven't seen before?"

"Oh, I've seen it before, alright. But "never" in such an incredibly sexy and erotic package."

Blue eyes widened, full lips formed a silent "O" and Sandburg began a "Full Body Blush". The blush started with his face and just naturally moved its way down, all the way down. That blush was the second sexiest thing Ellison had seen that day.

Ellison slowly leaned forward and with undisguised passion coloring his voice he warned, "Trust me, Blair. *If* I proceed with this "Full Body Massage", it will be a "full body" - inside and out. Once I touch you? I won't be able to stop....I"ve wanted this for too long. And it won't be just this once. I'm a forever kind of guy. Do you understand?"

A nod.

"You still want to collect your bet?"

Another nod.

"You understand and accept all conditions?"

One eyebrow shot up in a silent question.

Jim answered the unasked, "Forever and Exclusive."

Blair gave a dazzling smile, "I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you and have for a long time."

Jim's smile was incandescent. He lowered himself onto the bed and crawled over Blair's body until his head was just above the younger mans. Looking down into eyes just beginning to darken with passion, he answered, "I love you too. Since day one, in your storage room of an office."

Jim let his eyes travel down his new lover's face until he reached that beautiful mouth. He let his lips lightly brush Blair's, then, "Have you ever been with a man before?" Relaxed, Blair just shook his head, but he was smiling and his complete trust was evident in that smile.

"Well, then, let me show you how it's done."

And he did.

Jim bit, blew, kissed, kneaded, lapped, laved, licked, massaged, nibbled, nuzzled, pinched, pinned, pounded, pumped, rolled, scratched, stroked, sucked, tickled, touched and tweaked.

In reaction to Jim's unrestrained, uncontrolled and unerring love-making, Blair arched, begged, gasped, giggled, grasped, groaned, hissed, humped, mewled, moaned, panted, pleaded, pulled, pushed, quivered, screamed, shivered, shook, stretched, sweated and thrashed.

There was no part of Blair that Jim didn't explore or taste or love.

The older man gave all that he was and all that he had. He poured every dream and every wish into his love. And Jim Ellison gave Blair Sandburg that which he'd never given to another living soul. His past, his present, his future and his heart. And Blair both accepted and returned the same, with all the enthusiasm, passion and love that he had for his Sentinel.

And after?



Blair: Why? (muffled into a shoulder)

Jim: Why what? (whispered into a head of sweat drenched curls)

Blair: Why this? Why now? (spoken with a slight mumble due to very kissed swollen lips)

Jim: Why not? (words barely recognizable due to hair in mouth)

Blair; Did you let me win? (spoken between licking)

Jim: Who? Me? (words gasped out as left nipple is tugged)

Blair: No, Carl. (still licking, tugging and now nibbling nipples)

Jim: CARL WHO? (yelled, well, squeaked, really. That left nipple is *really* sensitive!)

Blair: I let you....let me....win, you know. ("only" a sentinel could have heard that as Blair's tongue was buried in Jim's navel)

Jim: How. Did. You. Do. That. (through clenched teeth. Seems his navel is as sensitive as his left nipple!)

Blair: Well, you ..did...make...it.....easy. (said between licks on Jim's now fully "active" cock)

Jim: WHO.....(GASP)......WHAT......(MOAN).... WHERE.....(HISS).......WHEN......(CRY).......



Blair: Me (lick) your cock (swallow) here (tighten) come now (swallow deeper) umph....mrmph....imoghm (in/out) LOVE YOU!


So. There is the Who, What, Where, When, How and Why of The Sentinel of the Great City and his Shaman of the Great City.