Sentinel Fan Fiction Page || Fanfic -- Smarm and Song/Poetry stories

Summary: One hundred-word snapshots of Jim and Blair written around a long quote called 'Soulmates' by Richard Bach. Light smarm. Spoilers: Minor mention of Sleeping Beauty.

Dedication: To Robyn.

Notes: I've been wanting to write a short story beginning with the words "Once upon a time..." for a while. Iris beat me to it with "But I Digress..." (go read it if you haven't yet -- or even if you have!), but I still wanted to do something with those words. So I hope Iris will forgive me if I use very similar words to start this short work. This begins mostly with something Robyn and I kept saying back and forth the other day while trying to get a story started.

by Becky
January 2000

Once upon a the city of Cascade...there lived two men named Jim and Blair. Ellison and Sandburg. Cop and anthropologist. Joe Friday throwback to primitive man and neo-hippie witchdoctor punk.

Their differences should have kept them apart.

A man searching for control and a man searching for his "Holy Grail." A man looking for answers and a man with the answers.

Instead, those very differences bound them together, meshing to create an unshakeable and unbreakable bond of friendship...and kinship...

Partners. Teacher and student. Friends. Student and teacher. Brothers.

...and destiny.

Sentinel and Guide. Protectors. Guardians.



A soulmate is someone who has the locks to fit our keys,
and the keys to fit our locks.


Growling, Jim plucked the page of handwritten notes up to squint at the incomprehensible word. Nudging his partner, he snapped, "Sandburg, what does this say?"

"Huh?" Drawn reluctantly from his concentration on a dusty tome, Blair glanced at the notes currently shoved between him and the book. "Gnarly." Pushing the paper away, he went back to reading.

"Gnarly? Gnarly?!"

"Yup. The perp had a gnarly design on his gnarly leather jacket which he wore when riding his gnarly motorcycle which he used when robbing the gnarly convenience store which..."

Jim, however, was too busy laughing to listen. Blair only smiled.


When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out
and we can be completely and honestly who we are;
we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be.


Blair quietly closed the loft door and tossed his keys into the basket before glancing around in the semi-darkened room.

"Out here, Chief."

Spotting Jim on the balcony, Blair jogged over to join the taller man outside. For several moments, they stood in silence, content in each other's company. Then Jim asked, "Stacey's plane get off all right?"

"Yup. Right on time."


More silence, then Blair chuckled. Jim glanced at him. "What?"

"You are such a softie, man."

Jim laughed and bumped shoulders with Blair. "You're just getting that now? And here I thought you were the smart one."


Each of us unveils the best part of one another.


Deep in contemplation, Blair didn't register the knocking and only looked up when the door opened to reveal his partner. "Oh, hey, Jim. What're you doing here?"

"Thought you could use some lunch." Jim held up two deli bags as explanation.

Assorted desk clutter was shoved aside as Jim got comfortable in the chair he mentally designated as 'his'. "I don't understand how you work in this...chaos." He waved a hand around them.

Blair chuckled and took a bite of his sandwich. "Making sense of chaos is my life, man."

Jim considered the statement and grinned. "So it is."


No matter what else goes wrong around us,
with that one person we're safe in our paradise.


~chug~ ~splutter~ ~cough~

The familiar engine noises finally stopped outside the loft. A car door slamming and muttered questionable words preceded a stream of low-voiced complaints. Jim tracked Blair's progress into the building and up the three flights of stairs, the latter because of the again out-of-service elevator. Several minutes later, Blair stormed into the loft, still muttering under his breath. He stopped abruptly when Jim shifted on the couch to remove the cold cloth that covered his eyes.

"Jim. Sorry," Blair whispered. "You okay?"

"Headache. Bad day?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Ditto." He replaced the cloth. "Glad you're home."

"Me too."


Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings,
our sense of direction.


Butterflies arguing for dominance in his stomach, Blair took a deep breath and stared into the mirror, brushing away a few recalcitrant curls that'd escaped the ponytail.

"Hey, Chief. You ready?" Jim appeared at the open door, a black robe draped over one arm and a mortarboard in his other hand. A proud and fond smile creasing his features, he softened his voice. "Naomi's already left with Simon. We need to get a move on, partner."

Blair took another breath. "I know." He reached out to touch Jim's arm. "Jim?"

"Hmm?" He waited, eyes expectant.


"You're welcome...Dr. Sandburg."


When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up,
chances are we've found the right person.


"Do you ever dream about what you want to be when you grow up, Jim?"

Jim paused as he reeled in his fishing line. He glanced at Blair where he sat cross-legged on a large flat rock. "I don't know about you, Sandburg, but I am grown up."

A smile playing at his lips, Blair shook his head. "We're always growing, Jim."

"I am what I am, Chief."

"What? A cop? A sentinel?"

"Yes." He recast his line. "What about you?" Hesitancy.

"I'm...where I want to be."

"Good." Quiet relief. "Now get down here and help me catch dinner."


Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.

Once upon a time...

- The End -