The Cop Guide by Blair Sandburg

So you want to hear my side of the story now? Good, cause I really want to tell it.

Sneaking into that hospital room was the best, and worst, mistake of my life. Best because he was everything I ever wanted; he was a Sentinel, he was buff and beautiful, and I drowned in his sky blue eyes. I wanted him, mind and body. Worst because I knew it could never work out; either I would get my doctorate or I'd get him, and I wanted both. I jumped in, tennis shoe clad feet first, and never looked back.

When he asked me over lunch if I was bisexual, I knew I had him. He was interested and I jumped again. I'll never forget the way he touched me that first day, the way his hands memorized my body. I came so hard, I think part of my brain was lost in the ejaculate. That's the only way I can explain why I let it continue. He was my research subject, and it wasn't Sentinel sex patterns I was studying; although after one particular night when he made me come four times, I almost did change my topic!

But I digress.

Moving in with him put an end to our sexual escapades. I didn't fight it because I knew it was the right thing, only I didn't have the strength to end it myself. We could have kept on the way we were, and maybe everything would have worked out, but it also could have screwed things up even worse. And things were okay. We caught the bad guys (mostly); we went on trips together; worked side by side. We became friends, best friends. Hell, Jim became my family. Maybe a distant cousin, because of how 'close' we had been.

Anyway, one of the hardest things I did over the last three years was watch Jim get hurt by all those women. And there were more than a few. I admit, I had more than a few, but I never let them get close enough to me to hurt me. He let each of them in, inside his heart and head, and they screwed him, both literally and figuratively. If I'd been any other type of man, I would've hunted them down and killed them. In some cases, I didn't have to. It's harsh to say, but I don't fucking care.

It was a Thursday when I cornered Jim about my dissertation. It was like putting the pieces of a puzzle together, everything finally clicked, all the prodding and questioning. I realized that he wanted it finished. I just didn't know why. When he said it, actually voiced the fact that he wanted it finished, I almost couldn't get my next question out, but I had to know. I felt so relieved when he said he didn't want me out, I almost hugged him.

So I finished it. Well, finished the first draft, and the rest, as they say, is history. Let's just suffice it to say that all hell broke loose and only by the skin of our teeth did any of us survive.

But back to Jim and me. Bet you wondered when I'd get back to that! The morning after the shootings at the police station, I woke up in Jim's arms on the couch. He was looking at me with such love in his eyes, and then he whispered that he loved me. You probably thing I melted in his arms, and we made love all afternoon, but you'd be wrong. How dare he tell me that after everything that had happened! I just gave up my career, my life essentially, and here he was making that declaration, thinking that it was gonna make up for what I'd lost. Jim Ellison loves me. Big fucking deal. He sure didn't act like it earlier when he'd been so certain that I'd betrayed him--again! It was like with one side of his mouth he was saying 'I love you', and with the other, he was saying he didn't even know who I was. Kind of like getting stabbed in the back while someone is hugging you.

I rode that wave of anger, never stopping once to let anything sink in, until I had to clean out my office at the university. Everything I had worked so hard for since I was sixteen was gone. Sure, I had my degrees, my wallpaper, but I no longer had a reputation in my career field. Well, not a positive one anyway. I would never teach again at this university, would never be called Professor Sandburg, never head an expedition to Borneo. On the plus side, I would never grade another paper, proctor another exam or give a lecture to a room full of sleeping freshmen. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I headed to the station house afterwards, why drag out the torture? I walked through the break room where I had taken out my first bad guy, where Jim had overlooked procedure to protect me, where we had had lunch so many times and laughed and planned camping trips. I remembered every time I signed Jim's name to a form and the first time I truly felt accepted by these men and women. I was standing in Simon's office remembering the first time he took my advice about something, when Joel interrupted my reminiscing.

Me, a cop? Okay. The academy? Sure, I can do that. Firearms training? I don't know about that one, but I'll do it if they think I can. Hell, even my mom is okay with this. I can do this. Officer Sandburg has a nice ring to it; Detective Sandburg sounds even better.

I'd like to tell you that everything worked out and we all lived happily ever after, but I live in the real world, and it's never that easy. Naomi disappeared the next morning without a word, just a note saying that she'd call. Simon and Megan returned to work part time, declaring loudly to anyone who'd listen that they were ready for full time duty, but Joel made sure they took it easy. Rafe and Henry took on extra work to make up for it and complained the entire time until Megan promised to never wear her pink dingo coat again. (I think I need to test her hearing.) And Jim? Jim returned to the streets alone while I went to the academy.

And us? We continued to live together, why wouldn't we? He still asked my opinions about cases, and I still gave him my advice about his senses. But it was different. I was no longer the researcher, and he was no longer the subject. We were two friends helping each other with things we couldn't do on our own. Friends who were in love with each other. Bet you thought I forgot about that, but how could I? His whispered words were with me every minute of the day, along with the memories of when we had been lovers.

You're asking yourself why I didn't say anything to him, aren't you? Maybe it was revenge. Maybe it was justice. Maybe because carrying our love got me through all the shit I went through during the six weeks of the academy. Maybe I'm just a sadistic little bastard. Whatever.

Quit your pushing, I'll tell you what happened.

After graduation, Jim threw me a little party at our favorite restaurant, just the Major Crimes crew and my mom. Having her showing up was a surprise, but Jim pulled it off. Never doubt the abilities or loyalties of a Sentinel, of a friend. There was something in the air that night, maybe cause I was finally one of them. I was no longer an observer, I was a brother, I was a fellow cop, and I could shoot the cap off a bottle of beer at fifty feet without breaking the bottle or spilling a drop. Okay, that was the beer talking, but what happened next was truly me.

I pulled Jim aside, ostensibly to thank him for the party, but I'd decided that it was time to tell him that I loved him too. He took it like a man; he swept me up in his arms and kissed me. Right there in front of the everyone, including my mother; and they all cheered.

Somehow we managed to get untangled (how did my hand get on his ass?) without making complete fools of ourselves. There was a round of handshakes and well wishes as Jim shepherded me out the door. I'm sure my face must have hit the spectrum of shades of red, but I didn't care. Jim was taking me home. Taking me. Home.

The end.

Okay, so it isn't, but I'm not promising anything! :)

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