Time and Again
Chapter 7 to Chapter 12
by M-n-M
© July 1997
Chapter 7
Wednesday, 4/30
Blair entered his office and tossed his backpack onto the already cluttered chair. Glancing around, he decided to clear his desk a little before settling down to catch up on all the work he had neglected this week. Since Jim's zone-out a week ago, he'd been true to his vow and had stayed close to the Sentinel.
Unfortunately, hanging around the station this past week had had the young man spinning his wheels. After the excitement of the break-in, things had settled down and it had been rather boring with nothing happening. Even the momentary spike of endorphins which he had felt while helping Jim concentrate enough to describe a man named Sethos to the police artist didn't compensate for the lost work time. The anthropologist finally decided to come to work and get caught up. Amen-hetep IV's sarcophagus was due to be delivered Friday afternoon and he wanted to be free and clear. Besides, staying at the station only gave his body more opportunity to turn traitor at the sight of his Sentinel.
Blair shook his head and started filing the various papers littering his desk. He worked steadily for several minutes before coming across an article he'd been meaning to read, and had assumed lost. He settled in to read, and was soon deeply engrossed; not noticing the passage of an hour.
The anthropologist tossed the finished article down onto his desk and stretched. Time for him to do his real work. He decided to tackle the pile of mail that had accumulated during his absence, wondering as he did so why the whole world wasn't using e-mail yet. He separated the anthropology and history magazines and threw out the junk and bulk mailings. Concentrating on his personal correspondence, Blair frowned as he shifted through it. One particular letter caught his eye and a sense of unease traveled up his spine. Like the previous note, this one had no return address and his name and department were typed in bold capital letters across the front. With a sense of deja vu, Blair opened the envelope and pulled out the single piece of stationary.
Blair shivered as he read the note. It was different than the first. It was a death threat. In the past he might have blown it off, but in light of recent events, he opted to take this seriously. Remembering his promise to Jim, he picked up the phone and dialed the station.
"You have reached the desk of Detective James Ellison. Please leave--" Blair slammed the phone down. Jim obviously was away from his desk.
"Where are you, big guy? You said you'd be at work," Blair muttered in the suddenly too silent office. He tried Jim's cell phone. No answer. "Okay, don't panic. Think Sandburg...Simon!" Blair snatched up the receiver and called Simon's office.
"Banks."
Blair breathed a sigh of relief. "Simon, I'm looking for Jim. Do you know where he is? It's really important."
Simon must have heard the note of panic in his voice, because he didn't hesitate. "He's right here, Sandburg. Hold on."
Moments later, Blair's Blessed Protector was speaking into the phone. "Talk to me, Chief. What's wrong?"
Blair swallowed convulsively. "Um, Jim, I...I was going through my mail and, well, I got a death threat." The young man flinched as if saying the words out loud made the threat more real.
"Sandburg," Jim's voice was tinged with anxiety. "What's the note say? Read it word for word. Don't leave anything out."
"Right now? It's giving me the creeps looking at it."
"Now, Sandburg. I want to hear it."
Blair cleared his throat and began to read:
"Mr. Sandburg: Stop the exhibit at once! You are a blasphemer and all blasphemers are bound for hell. Take heed or you will bring about your own doom. If you wish to live, stop the sacrilege and your life will be spared. If you decide to ignore this, be prepared to pay the price with your life as we will not tolerate such sacrilege. Pain and suffering will be yours before you experience the freedom of death. This is the only warning you will receive..." Blair's voice trailed off. It was a sick feeling to get a death threat. It was almost as if someone was watching your every move. He glanced around nervously and nearly jumped when Jim spoke.
"Sandburg! Get out of there now. Leave your office, get in your car and go home. Do it as fast as you can, you hear me? Get the hell out of there."
Blair pulled the phone from his ear and gave it a puzzled look. If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn he heard a note of hysteria in Jim's voice. As it was, the urgency was unmistakable.
"Sandburg? Blair, can you hear me?"
Blair put the receiver back to his ear. "Yeah, Jim. I'm on my way."
"Do you have your cell phone? Call me on mine as soon as you're on the road. Got it?" Jim spoke rapidly.
"Okay," Blair replied, his adrenaline kicking in as a wave of fear knifed through him. He had to make it to the Corvair in one piece. "I'm hanging up now. Give me two minutes to get to my car."
"Faster!" Jim barked and hung up the phone.
Blair grabbed up his backpack and shoved the note into his pocket. He was racing across the quad seconds later, bypassing students and professors. If anyone called his name, he didn't hear it.
As he neared his car he stumbled to a halt, and stood staring, open-mouthed, face pale, mouth dry. He fumbled for his phone and dialed.
"Ellison. That better be you, Sandburg, telling me you're on your way home."
"Uh, Jim. You'll never believe it, man."
"What?"
"Oh, man. My poor car. Why would someone do this? First bullet holes, now--"
Jim interrupted him. "Sandburg, what the hell happened?"
Blair paused, wondering how to begin. "Man, all four of my tires have been totally shredded," Blair replied.
"Anything else?" Jim asked, sensing his partner wasn't through.
"Yeah..." Blair stared at his beloved car. "Someone painted the sun symbol of Aten on my windshield in red paint, Jim. Too weird."
"Hang tight, Chief--I'm almost there. I'll meet you in front of the anthro building in five minutes," Jim spoke tersely.
"Huh?" Blair sounded dazed. "You're on your way here? I thought you were at the station."
"Blair, just do what I tell you. And stay public. Make sure you're with a lot of people. I'll be right there." Jim snapped the phone shut as he turned onto campus.
The grad student numbly placed his phone into his backpack. Jim was going to be there soon and everything would be fine. He walked mechanically back toward the anthro building, reaching it just as Jim screeched around the corner and drew up in front of him.
He opened the passenger door and got in. Jim was already pulling away before he had the door closed and his seatbelt on.
"Parked in the usual spot?" Ellison's voice was tight, controlled.
"Yeah," Blair still sounded dazed and Jim spared his partner a brief glance.
'Don't worry, Chief,' Jim thought, 'I'm here and I won't let anyone hurt you.'
Blair was speaking. "Why d'you want to know?"
"I'm going to have forensics come out and dust for prints. I'll be taking a look at it myself later, but I want to get you to a safe place first." Jim pulled into the police parking garage and motioned to Blair. "Come on, Chief. Simon's waiting."
Blair looked puzzled, but followed Jim up to the Major Crimes division. "What are we gonna do now?" he asked as they crossed the bullpen to Simon's office.
"*You're* staying here with Simon," Jim began, "and *I'm* going back to check things out. You're not to leave his sight until I come back and pick you up. Got it?"
Blair sputtered for a minute at Jim's dictatorial manner, then opened his mouth to protest. "Now wait just a minute, man. I don't need a sitter! I want to come with you. You *need* me with you, especially after your zone-out last week."
Jim raised an eyebrow as Simon came around his desk. "You're staying here where it's safe. No arguments. I'm going back to the university to check the Corvair, and your office."
"Jim, I should go--"
This time it was Simon who interrupted. "Don't waste your breath, Sandburg. Have a seat."
Blair reluctantly sat in one of the captain's chairs.
As Jim left he said, "I'll be back soon. Stay put."
The anthropologist roamed aimlessly around Simon's office and occasionally ventured out into the bullpen to visit with Brown or Taggert. He felt like a recalcitrant child because he wasn't allowed past the Major Crimes doors. Jim was taking this death threat to the extreme. He wasn't sure what he was going to do about that, but he knew Jim couldn't be his shadow all of the time and he was going to have to go back to work this weekend. He'd deal with that issue later. Blair had long ago gotten used to Jim's protective streak, but it seemed to have gone into overdrive lately and he really didn't have the mental stamina to consider why.
Blair's relentless pacing got on Simon's nerves and he was put to work. He spent most of the afternoon sitting cross-legged in one of Simon's office chairs working, and didn't notice that the day had turned into night until Taggert came in to wish him a goodnight.
"Is it that late already?" Blair asked, looking up.
Taggert gave him a strange look and indicated the window. "Sandburg, it's dark outside. You didn't notice?"
"Guess not." Blair shrugged. "I wonder where Jim is. He said he wasn't going to be long."
"He went to the university, right?"
Blair nodded.
"He called in about an hour ago. Seems that a few protestors have gathered over there. Only a few, he said, but he wanted to talk to them. Then he said he had to see someone before he was going to head back." Taggert replied.
The younger man looked surprised. "Why didn't Simon tell me he called?"
"Probably didn't want you to try to take off on him." Taggert smiled. "After the time you ditched me, I'm sure he didn't want to take the chance that this new info would send you running to the university."
Blair ducked his head in apology, remembering the time that Jim had disappeared. "I wouldn't have done that, Joel. The protestors have been there off and on since news of the exhibit became public knowledge. There haven't been too many of them and they've been very peaceful. The campus police have been dealing with the problem, but I guess Jim wanted to check into it."
"He doesn't like to leave anything to chance." Taggert yawned.
'You don't know the half of it,' Blair thought. Aloud he said, "Man, go on home. You look beat."
"It's been a long day," Taggert agreed. "Goodnight, Blair."
"Night, Joel. See you tomorrow." Blair watched the other man cross the bullpen, only stopping to speak briefly with Simon who had been talking to Rafe.
Standing and stretching, Blair capped his pen and headed for Jim's desk. He was all done with the work Simon had given him and he decided he might as well catch up on some reading. Settling himself into Jim's chair, he pulled a textbook from the bottom drawer of the desk. He was about to open it when Simon walked up to him.
"Sandburg, I just got a call from the lab. They went over the Corvair with a fine-toothed comb, and it looks like they were able to lift a partial print. It's being run through the computers now. Hopefully, we'll know something soon."
"Man, it was totally trashed. Are you guys finished with it? Can I move it?"
Simon nodded. "They took pictures to use as evidence. I suggest you call your insurance company and see if they cover vandalism."
"I already did," Blair replied. "I think they're beginning to wish they'd never heard of me, but they're taking care of it. I'll get someone out there tomorrow to replace the tires. It'll be an eyesore until then."
Simon laughed. "Don't worry about it, Sandburg. It'll get fixed and you'll get it back. I'm going into my office and try to get a few more things done. Holler if you need anything."
"Sure thing, Simon." Blair turned to his book.
Sometime later, Jim walked into the bullpen. He glanced around for his partner, wanting to get back to the loft as soon as possible. He was tired, and wanted nothing more than to make an early night of it. Based on what he'd found today--that he was going to have to share with Blair--tomorrow was going to be a long day. 'And that doesn't even count when the Ambassador arrives,' he though with a renewed surge of weariness.
He spotted Blair sprawled in his desk chair reading an anthropology textbook, and noted his Guide's slumped shoulders and drooping eyelids. It was still early for either one of them to be so tired, but the incredible amounts of stress, worry and the increased workload had created a lethargy in both of them. More so for Blair who made it a habit to stay up past two in the morning most nights. He sighed, wanting only to get his Guide home safe.
"You ready, Chief?"
Blair looked up startled, noticing Jim for the first time. "Hey, man, where have you been? You were supposed to be back hours ago. I ended up having to write Simon's reports. God, I thought yours were bad."
Jim smiled, wearily. "We'll talk about it in the morning."
"But Jim, what did you find--"
"I said *tomorrow*, Sandburg." Jim headed for Simon's office. "I'm going to report in to Simon and then we're leaving. Make sure you're ready to go when I'm done."
Blair's sigh turned to a yawn as he waited for Jim's return. He tucked his book back into Jim's desk where it was stored in case of an emergency, and put his head down on the desk. He didn't know how long he sat there, dozing, before Jim and Simon walked out the captain's office.
"...I put that APB out that you requested, Jim. Hopefully we'll hear something soon." Simon was saying.
"Thanks, Captain." Jim collected Blair with a nod and the three men shared the elevator to the garage. "It's my only lead right now. I hope like hell we get this case wrapped up soon."
Banks looked at them. "Soon, Jim. Then you two can take some time off."
"Sounds good, Sir. I'll remind you of that." Jim smiled. "Goodnight, Simon. Thanks for looking after Blair." He unlocked the Expedition.
His companion rolled his eyes. "God, man, you make me sound like a kid who can't take care of himself." He waved at Simon and got into the truck.
Jim settled in beside him and started the engine. "If the shoe fits..." His voice trailed off into a grin.
Blair shot him a dirty look and lightly smacked him on the arm. "There you go again, trying to be funny. Guess you flunked clown school, huh?" He smiled.
"Yeah, people like you gave me too much competition." Jim laughed.
Blair stared at him a moment before laughing with him.
Thursday, 5/1
Jim sat in the pre-dawn darkness. Cool air drifted in from the open balcony doors and caressed his bare skin. He knew he should be asleep--he was so tired his body ached--but what was expected and what usually happened didn't always amount to the same thing.
He'd awakened about an hour ago, gripped in the shadow of a nightmare he couldn't remember now, with a sudden need to make sure his friend was all right. He eased quietly down the stairs, and stopped at Blair's partially open door; stood there for long moments just watching the figure within sleeping. So reassured, Jim had gone out onto the balcony to stare unwaveringly at the sleeping city. He didn't know how long he'd stayed out there before moving back into the loft and sitting on the couch. It really didn't matter. His thoughts had already drifted to later that morning and the conversation he was going to have with his partner.
Jim sighed and shifted to lie on the couch. Curling a muscular forearm under his head, he pondered the inevitable argument that would take place when the sun rose. How would Blair react to the news? Would they be able to work through it together? He hoped so. Too many things had gone wrong between them in the past few weeks. Subtle changes had occurred in their relationship, but he couldn't define them--he just knew things were different. Fear grabbed him suddenly, fear of losing Blair. He didn't want to lose his Guide, couldn't stand it if he did.
Soft, gentle breathing underscored by the regular thud of a heartbeat reached Jim's ears. He blinked drowsily and focused on the reassuring presence in the next room. The musical sound of air escaping kissable lips eased the older man into a peaceful sleep, a smile on his face.
Blair was up and dressed early, ready to face the day in spite of the death threat hanging over his head. He'd slept better than he had in a long time, a deep sleep not disturbed by strange dreams or phone calls. 'Maybe,' he mused, 'it's because Jim and I are finally settling back on track. For a while there, we weren't even on the same train.' He eased out of his room and stopped short. Eyes widening in surprise, Blair made his way to the somnolent form on the couch.
He sat down on the coffee table and reached a gentle hand out, laying it on Jim's shoulder. For a moment, the younger man allowed himself the pleasure of feeling the corded muscle beneath his hand. Closing his eyes, he kneaded the shoulder lightly, knowing that he would have to tell Jim he was in love with him soon.
He sighed and opened his eyes, and gently shook the sleeping man. "Jim? Wake up."
Jim shifted and mumbled, "just a few more minutes, lover."
Blair froze. Surely his friend hadn't just called him 'lover'. 'I wonder who he'd dreaming about,' the younger man thought with a tinge of jealousy. Just the same, a gentle warmth infused his heart and a slight smile crossed his face. "Jim?" He spoke louder, giving the powerful arm another shake.
"Blair?" Jim's sleepy voice sounded. "That you?"
"Yeah, big guy. Who else would it be?" The smile became a grin.
There was an answering grin on Jim's face as he slowly sat up. "Right. Who else."
The older man didn't even try to avoid bumping into Blair as he swung his legs to the floor. A shiver of emotion vibrated through him as Blair's blue-jeaned knees contacted with his bare ones. Their gazes locked for what seemed like endless moments before the younger man tore his away and rose to his feet. He moved a safe distance from Jim before saying, "Guess I'll start breakfast while you get dressed."
Jim nodded and the awkward moment slipped away under the pretense of normalcy.
"Good idea. Maybe you could make something different? Something not eggs? I feel like a change."
Blair nodded and made his way toward the kitchen as Jim stood and stretched. "Sure. How 'bout Belgian waffles?"
Jim's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You can make those?"
The other man laughed. "I'm a man of many talents, Jim."
"I'm sure you are," came the dry reply. "Throw in some bacon and coffee and we'll have a real breakfast. These last couple of weeks have been too rushed, and we're not in any hurry this morning."
'We're not? That's weird.' "Sounds good to me," Blair replied. He began rummaging in the cupboards for ingredients, and Jim disappeared into the bathroom.
Minutes later, clutching a towel around his waist, the older man stepped out of the bathroom. He sniffed appreciatively at the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen.
His stomach growled loudly, prodding Jim to hurry up the stairs to his bedroom. Dressing quickly he returned to the lower level and walked into the kitchen just in time to catch Blair gesturing wildly with his arms, a dripping spoon in one hand. He was humming an oddly familiar tune.
Jim burst out laughing and Blair turned to grin at him. "What're you *doing*, Sandburg?"
The younger man shrugged, blue eyes twinkling. "Walking like an Egyptian, man."
The detective groaned as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Oh, man. Is that the song you were humming?"
"Uh-huh."
"Bad, Chief, bad."
"Oh come on, Jim," Blair set two plates of waffles and bacon on the table. "I couldn't resist. The Ambassador's coming in tomorrow. It seemed appropriate."
Jim snickered as he and his partner took seats at the table. "Appropriate. Only you, Chief." He began to eat.
"*I* thought it was funny," Blair defended as he picked up his fork.
"Oh, yeah, whatever it was you were doing when I walked in here sure was, " Jim agreed between bites. "I don't think you should be entering any talent shows anytime soon, though."
"Why not? I do a pretty good Macarena, too."
Jim bit into a slice of bacon and chewed thoughtfully. "Yeah? Well, from what I saw, my advice is for you to stick to anthropology."
Blair laughed. "Want any more? I made plenty."
"Give me a chance to finish what I've got and then I'll probably have seconds. These are good, by the way."
"Thanks. You were right--we haven't sat down and had a real breakfast in a while. It's a nice change."
Jim nodded, and they finished breakfast in a light, happy mood.
Blair was rinsing the plates and setting them in the strainer when he asked, "Hey, you never did tell me what went down yesterday after you left me at the station."
Jim dried his hands on a towel, feeling the mood they'd enjoyed slowly start to fade. "Yeah. We've got to talk, Chief."
Blair focused his attention on the somber tone. Brow furrowed he asked, "What's wrong, Jim? Did something happen? Oh, man-not another zone-out!"
"No, not another zone-out. Something else. Have a seat." Jim indicated the kitchen chair Blair had been occupying earlier.
The younger man sat as Jim leaned against the counter and faced him. It was quiet for a minute. Finally Jim spoke, "I didn't zone out, but it does have something to do with the one I had last week."
"Yeah? You never really did explain what happened that day. Was it something you've never experienced? Something we've never dealt with?" Equal parts of alarm and fascination, Blair spoke rapidly.
Jim held up a hand to stop the questions. "No, Chief. Nothing like that. I don't know if I ever told you exactly what I zone out on. While I was at the museum, I smelled roses."
"Okay," Blair encouraged. "Go on."
"Not roses exactly. There was oil and very faint traces of chemicals I couldn't identify. Probably zoned trying to figure it out."
His Guide nodded. "Perfume?"
"Yeah, that's what it was. Anyway, I finally figured out where I had smelled it before."
"Where?"
The detective hesitated. "Sarina Collins wears a perfume that smells like roses."
Blair frowned. "So? What's that got to do with anything?
"Blair, you aren't paying attention." Jim moved closer to him, and tousled his hair gently, briefly. "I think she's the one who hit you."
Blair's eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. "No way, man! Sarina's not capable of hurting anyone."
"Listen to me. The rose perfume was at the museum. That ties Sarina to the break-in."
"That's really weak, Jim. Lots of women wear floral-based perfumes and the museum has a lot of people going through there every day. And how do you even tie that to Sarina supposedly hitting me on the head?" Blair's voice rose angrily.
"My gut instinct--the one *you're* always telling me to trust!--tells me Sarina's involved in this somehow. Now, it's entirely possible I'm wrong, but let's look at what we know. Think you're up for that?" Jim stared intently at his partner.
Blair's mouth set into a grim line. He nodded tersely and sat back down, arms folded across his chest in a 'keep-away' stance.
The detective took a deep breath. "Okay. First, not too many people know about the special package arriving tomorrow. You said yourself that only a couple of you at the university are aware of the existence of this mummy and its sarcophagus. Sarina is one of them." Jim watched Blair's mouth open and he held up a hand to forestall the protests. "Let me finish. African culture also happens to be Sarina's area of expertise."
"That's *not* enough to convict her, Jim."
"Now, let's talk opportunity," Ellison ignored the interruption. "Sarina knew the artifacts would be moved to the university from the museum. Again, she's one of a handful of people who knew that. Next, she's the one who found you unconscious in the early morning hours. What was she doing there so early? Even if she was there to help you, Sarina is one of only four people who have access to that basement and the artifacts. You were out cold. Dr. Hathaway was in Seattle attending a convention. Michael Patterson was at home; his roommate Jarvis Deacon confirmed that. Sarina was the only one with access, Chief, who doesn't have an alibi that we can confirm."
Blair was shaking his head, not quite believing that Jim was standing there accusing a friend of his of the heinous activities of the previous month.
"Then there's the conversation I overheard last week," Jim continued. "Remember the composite drawing you helped me with? Well, that guy, Sethos, was talking to Sarina about you, and the exhibit. He seemed to know more abut it than he should have."
"So?" Blair shot back defensively. "Sarina could have told her boyfriend about it. After all, I told *you*." His face flushed as he thought how that sounded. He hoped Jim wouldn't notice, and chalk his red face up to anger.
Jim was skeptical. "Sarina's in love with you, Sandburg. I realized that early on, and the conversation I overheard only confirmed that." He shook his head. "No, Sethos and Sarina aren't involved romantically. I think they're working together. Knowledge and opportunity, Chief. She's a prime suspect along with this Sethos character. We don't know much about him, unfortunately. A database search of our domestic agencies didn't tell us anything. We're still waiting to hear back from Interpol."
"Come on, Jim. Aren't you being a little quick to judge here? You said you could be wrong and that you didn't have all the info. What about motive? What could Sarina have to gain from all of this?"
Jim's voice was quiet when he replied, "Religious fanatics don't need motive, Chief."
Blair's face drained of color. "You think she's a member of the cult, don't you," he whispered, a sick feeling of despair rising in him. Jim was rarely wrong--especially when he was going on instinct. To admit that he was right though--that meant that Sarina had betrayed him...and that his character judgment was faulty. God, what did Jim know, to make this conclusion, that he hadn't told him? Didn't he trust him to remain objective? 'Which you're not,' the voice in his head taunted. He rose to his feet, needing desperately to get out there.
A hand on his arm stopped him. "Where do you think you're going, Sandburg?"
Blair turned to face Jim, steps away from the front door and freedom. "I'm going out, man. I need to think, work things out in my head."
Jim indicated Blair's room. "You can do that just fine in there, or on the balcony. You're not going anywhere, Chief, at least not by yourself. Or did you forget about the death threat you received?" Jim's voice was quiet, but the words carried an impact nonetheless.
Blair stiffened. "Do you think I could forget something like that? Look, Jim. I'm not the bad guy here--I don't see why I have to be the one who's locked up. I can't stay in the loft forever, you know."
Jim sighed and stepped back, allowing the younger man a little breathing room. "I know you can't, Chief. It's just that this whole case has me on edge. I have nothing but suppositions and possibilities--nothing really concrete."
"You seemed to have everything you needed a few minutes ago," Blair replied bitterly. "I thought Sarina did it."
Jim gave him an exasperated look. "She's a *suspect*, Sandburg. She hasn't been tried and convicted of anything. But I *know* she's involved, and that it goes way beyond that. Others have to be involved. This is not a solo project. And there's still Sethos to consider. Where does he fit in?"
Blair leaned back against the door, arms crossed. "That's the guy we had the composite drawing done on, right? Jim, have you even talked to Sarina about him--about all of this? Maybe she doesn't know this Sethos person very well--what you heard could have been circumstantial, or a coincidence."
Jim shook his head. He could see Blair's reluctance to believe badly of his friend and colleague, but the detective knew that his partner was now at least considering what he'd told him. With his intelligence and his knack for piecing together puzzles, Blair had to accept the possibility that Sarina was involved, given the evidence--however circumstantial. Unfortunately, he was about to drop the biggest incriminating piece against her.
"We can't find her, Blair. She hasn't shown up for work, hasn't been to class--hell, she hasn't been to her apartment in at least three days. We put an APB out on her...hopefully she'll turn up soon."
"I just saw her..." Blair began, a note of--what? sadness? betrayal?--in his voice.
Jim ached at having to do this to his friend. "Before yesterday," he said gently, "you hadn't been on campus for almost a week."
Blair stared at the floor, uncertain of what to say. As Jim opened his mouth to speak the phone rang.
The detective moved to pick it up. "Ellison." Pause. "Yeah, Simon, what'd you turn up?" Jim nodded, eyes flashing toward Blair. "It figures. Okay. Thanks."
"What'd he say? Have they found Sarina?" Blair asked as Jim hung up the phone.
"No. They found a match to the partial fingerprint we found on your car yesterday. Interpol identified him as Sethos Hasan. He's a former priest who's wanted in connection with the bombing of an Egyptian museum that killed five people. He's also a suspect in an attempted bombing of King Tut's tomb." Jim paused, then shook his head. "The file photo of him matches our composite. This guy's crazy, Chief."
Blair's mouth tightened. "Man, this really sucks." He paused, considering all of Jim's statement. "A former priest, huh? That's wild. But I just don't see Sarina getting involved with someone like that. She's an academic, working on her Masters in African culture for cryin' out loud! Not a terrorist or a religious fanatic."
Jim shrugged. "She knows him--that right there is incriminating. As to why she'd help him...that's something else. We'll have to keep looking for her, get her side of things."
"There's still a chance you're wrong about her, right? You can't prove anything without talking to her first."
"Right. But I have to tell you it doesn't look good."
Blair sighed and started for his room. "I think I'll go work on my dissertation for a while. Maybe finish writing up the final for my intro class."
"Chief?"
The younger man paused in mid-stride. "Yeah?"
"I know none of this has been easy, but I...still need you."
Blair smiled briefly. "I'm your back-up, man. You can always count on me--even if we don't see eye-to-eye on some things." Blair closed his mouth, then opened it; then closed it again.
Jim watched him with a raised eyebrow. "What? Spit it out-it couldn't be any worse than the last hour or so has been."
"I have to work on the exhibit this weekend, Jim. Most of it's just positioning of the pieces, and finishing touches on the tableaus, but it's got to be done. Mostly I have to work on the Aten display. It's the center of the whole exhibit. Think you can handle me doing that, man?"
"We'll work it out," Jim said, careful not to make any set-in-stone promises. "Go on, work on your dissertation. Maybe you'll be done with that thing before my senses stop working from old age?"
"Ha. Very funny. Hey!" Blair's eyes lit up. "How about doing some experiments?"
The Sentinel rolled his eyes. "Go. I've got things to do."
"Later though, right? I mean, fair's fair--if you're gonna keep me locked up here all day."
Jim's face softened. "Yeah, Chief. We'll do some later."
Friday, 5/2
"Wow!" Blair exclaimed. "Look at all those reporters."
Jim nodded. "What else would you expect with an Egyptian Ambassador flying in and most of Cascade's top brass waiting for him."
The two men stood in the crowded airport, waiting for the ambassador and his entourage. Blair glanced out of the window at the runway, expecting the plane any minute now. It was a fairly bright afternoon and he had to squint.
"You know, Chief, maybe we oughta go rescue Simon."
Blair turned from the bright glare to his partner. "Huh?"
Jim indicated across the waiting area to Simon. The captain of the Cascade police department was having a conversation with two other gentlemen, looking like he'd just swallowed a bug.
Blair laughed. "Isn't that the Mayor and the Chief of Police he's talking to?"
"Yeah," Jim was grinning. "Doesn't look like he's having too much fun. He always did hate tap dancing."
"Guess you'd better go get him then." Blair was still smiling.
Jim wound his way through the crowd of media and police personnel until he was standing just behind his friend. "Sir," he called to Simon, who turned around with a grateful look on his face, "Excuse me, but I need to speak with you a moment."
"Will you excuse me, gentlemen?" Simon waited for the nods before moving away with Jim. "Thanks--I needed that."
Jim smiled. "No problem. I did want to tell you that everything's been set up at the hotel. Cops are already stationed at the penthouse he'll be using. As soon as he disembarks, he'll be escorted over there. Blair and I will see that he's taken care of before returning to the university to make sure the mummy has arrived and is locked up safely."
Simon nodded. "Good. I take it that some of our men here will be escorting the artifacts to Rainier?"
"Yeah--it's already been taken care of." Jim moved toward Blair. "Plane's coming in, sir. I suggest we get ready."
The policemen joined the Mayor, the Chief of Police, and their various personnel at the arrival gate. Brown, Taggert and Rafe met them at the front as the plane taxied to a stop.
Jim turned to the three men. "Everything okay?" Taggert nodded.
People began emerging from the plane then, and Jim turned his attention to that. He identified at least two personal bodyguards and several other personnel attached to the office of the Ambassador, as well as the Ambassador himself.
"Which one's the Ambassador," Brown questioned from behind Jim.
The detective replied, "The gentleman in the grey suit is Ambassador Abu el Ka'ab. The other one is his personal advisor, Keb Boussard." He was thankful he'd had the foresight to examine the dossiers of both men.
The Mayor stepped forward and introduced himself and the rest of the welcoming party. Jim was introduced specifically as being in charge of the security detail, and he moved forward to shake the Ambassador's hand in welcome.
The large group made their way through the airport terminal toward the motorcade. Jim kept glancing around him, senses open to potential sources of trouble. The other members of his team were also looking around, constantly scanning the area. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the ambassador, safely ensconced in the center of the group, speaking earnestly to the mayor; his two bodyguards flanking the duo, and his advisor a step in front of him.
'Looks like everything's under control,' Ellison thought and glanced to his left. Blair was striding along next to him, also looking around. He'd been with the detective for so long that he'd picked up certain habits.
Jim, not liking the fact that Blair was on the unprotected outside of the circle of security, unobtrusively stepped back, letting Blair take the lead before shifting to the outside. Air whistled past his teeth in relief now that Blair was safely inside the circle. The younger man didn't notice the maneuver and quickly struck up a conversation with the advisor. By the time they'd reached the vehicles his partner was so involved in his conversation that Jim had to grab Blair's arm to prevent him from getting into the car with the man.
He led Blair to the truck as Simon issued last minute orders for conveying their Ambassorial guest safely to the Cascade Towers Hotel.
He tuned out Simon and focused on Blair who was talking, gesturing expansively. "Man, Keb is so *interesting*. He was born in Zanzibar. His dad is French, and was with the diplomatic corps, and they were located there for a while. When his dad retired they moved to Cairo, 'cause his mom is Egyptian. He got his degree from *Oxford*, then moved back to Egypt, so he could be closer to his folks--and because he wanted to follow in his dad's footsteps and get into the diplomat scene."
There was no mistaking the slight tinge of hero-worship in Sandburg's voice, and Ellison rolled his eyes. "I know, Chief. I read the file." He shook his head. "I can't believe you got all that from a five-minute conversation."
"It's a talent, man. Remember, I'm a man of--"
"Many talents." Jim finished for him. "Right. It's BS, is what it is," he said dryly. Jim turned the truck onto the street, and followed the ambassador's motorcade toward the hotel.
Blair laughed. "Technically, BS is a form of male bonding, remember?"
'Just as long as you don't bond too closely with him,' Jim thought then frowned. That sounded almost like jealousy. He'd have to keep an eye on that. Lustful feelings for his friend were one thing, but jealousy? That implied other emotions he still wasn't comfortable exploring. Aloud he replied, "Whatever," and left it at that.
The motorcade wound its way through Cascade to the hotel, and they were soon escorting the ambassador upstairs to the penthouse. Jim was careful to explain about the security measures the Cascade P.D. had set up. There would be six pairs of guards that would rotate four-hour watches; thereby guaranteeing alertness. He introduced the first watch, noting with relief that his men and the ambassador's own bodyguards took careful note of each other--that way everyone working together knew who the others were. The detective also left his and Simon's cell phone numbers, in case something went wrong with the guards.
"Is there anything else you need to know, sir?" Jim had dismissed the other men who'd acted as bodyguards during transport, and was now preparing to leave himself.
"Please, Detective Ellison," came the ambassador's softly accented voice, "have a seat. There is something I would very much like to discuss with you."
Jim raised an eyebrow and sat across from the ambassador in an overstuffed chair. Blair moved behind him, and placed a hand casually along the top of the chair. His fingers dangled slightly, barely touching the back of Jim's neck. To those present he resembled a lion standing watch over his territory, and when he shoved a hand through his mane of hair, the effect was heightened.
"What is it, sir?"
"Your captain," the ambassador indicated Simon, who was giving his own last minute instructions to the guards, "says that you recently had some trouble with the Egyptian exhibit at one of your museums."
Jim tightened his lips as he nodded. "We did have some trouble, sir. Someone broke in and vandalized the gallery. From symbols left at the scene we've come to the conclusion that it's directly related to the exhibit; specifically to the cult of Aten."
The ambassador frowned. "May I ask how you arrived at this conclusion?"
Jim explained that none of the artifacts had been present at the museum at the time of the break-in, and that no other part of the museum had been touched. "My partner," Jim indicated Blair behind him, "explained the meaning of the sun symbol that the vandals painted on the wall, and we've had other instances of since then. That led us to the cult of Aten."
The ambassador turned sharp eyes to Blair. "Ah yes, Mr. Sandburg. You are in charge of that great undertaking known as the exhibit. Dr. Hathaway and I have corresponded throughout these past months and he's quite impressed with your work. I'm looking forward to attending the opening next week."
Blair blushed with pleasure at the unexpected kudos. "Thank you, sir."
The ambassador turned his attention back to Jim. "I'm terribly sorry to hear about the misfortune that seems to have plagued the exhibit. The cult of Aten is an old religion, thought to be long forgotten. Unfortunately, it seems that with the discovery of the mummy of King Amen-hetep that has changed. Some of my people take the treasures of Egypt and their significance very seriously. They do not like seeing artifacts leave our country. I myself do not subscribe to that belief. Sharing one's culture increases one's awareness and tolerance. It is the only way world peace might be achieved."
When the ambassador addressed Jim again Blair allowed his attention to wander slightly. He'd decided to make a statement--even if just to himself--that Jim was his, and did that by claiming a place right behind him where he could stand and look down, observing. He laid his hand on the top of the chair-the backrest--allowing his fingers to dangle unobtrusively--hidden by Jim's head--and gently brush the short hairs on Jim's neck. He wiggled his fingers slightly, delighting in the feel of the soft bristles of Jim's hair. A grin threatened, and Blair tuned himself back into reality, trying to arrange his face in a neutral mask.
"I understand, sir, and I agree with you completely. The Cascade P.D. will do everything in its power to ensure the success of the exhibit." Jim leaned back in his chair, and a tremor of sensation raced down his spine. Was Blair caressing his neck? He drew in a deep breath and tried to school his features into something bland and presentable when what he really wanted to do was pull Blair over that chair, into his lap, and onto his--
"That is good to hear, detective. We must persevere. Unknown foes must not destroy the goal of peace."
"Very good, sir." Jim rose shakily to his feet, trying to quell the urges rising in him. He needed to get his mind back on track here. Of course, the visual images flashing through his brain were a lot more entertaining than the political doubletalk that was beginning to get on his nerves. "We need to be going now, sir, but we'll see you at the press conference tomorrow morning."
The ambassador nodded. "Yes, duty calls you, does it not?"
"Yes, sir. Have a good night." Jim headed for Simon, who'd been standing unobtrusively by the door, waiting for his detective to finish up.
"Nice meeting you, Ambassador," Blair nodded as he followed Jim.
"Be well, my friends," the ambassador called after them.
The three men rode the elevator to the ground in silence, each deep in their own thoughts about the ambassador, the artifacts, and the crime that seemed to be weaving itself in a tighter circle around them. They parted ways then; Simon to his car to return to the station, and Jim and Blair to the truck to continue on to the university to check on the dead king's remains.
Once inside the truck Jim turned the air conditioner on, trying to quell the heat that was flowing through his body like so much fire. Having the object of his desire sitting less than three feet away wasn't helping; neither had the tiny little touches that he *knew* he hadn't imagined. He shifted slightly to put his seat belt on, groaning silently as his hand passed over his over-heated, highly sensitized flesh. Thank god for loose pants that hid erections--he was worse than a teenager.
"Jim. Jim? Hey, man--are you trying to freeze me out here?"
He turned to Blair, the question dying on his lips when he realized he still had the A/C on full blast. "Sorry, Chief. Whataya say we go check on the king, make sure he arrived okay, then grab a bite to eat."
"Sounds good to me." Blair threw him another strange look, but didn't ask about the air conditioning.
Jim put the truck into drive, and they were off.
Chapter 8
Sunday, 5/4
"Let's get a move-on, Sandburg--I don't want to spend the entire day over there."
"Yeah, yeah...hang on."
Jim stood by the door of the loft, leaning impatiently against the wall. Actually, he wasn't really impatient, but he didn't want Blair to know that he was kind of looking forward to this. After all the hoopla over the last twenty-four hours, he was actually curious about getting a look at the exhibit and Aten artifacts.
*Especially* after yesterday. Jim sighed thankfully that Saturday was over. *That* had been nothing but a bunch of politicians and reporters and one big headache. After spending the day wading through media cameras and bodyguards; dealing with the security necessary to transport the Aten crates, and everything else that went along with it; Jim was looking forward to some time spent in the dusty, *quiet* basement of the anthropology building. Especially spending time alone with Blair. He didn't want to put a name to the feelings he'd been having, but he'd stopped fighting them--had actually grown accustomed to having them--and had accepted his attraction to his roommate.
Blair moved into his line of sight then and Jim sighed in relief. It was getting scary to be left alone with his thoughts for too long anymore.
"Ready, Chief?"
"Yeah, let's go."
They walked in silence to the Expedition, and made the short trip to the University in the same manner. Both men--even Blair, who generally could talk to *anyone* about anything--were tired of talking after yesterday. The silence was comfortable, and they left it.
There were armed guards at the entrance to the basement and the exhibit hall; part of the security detail for the artifacts that Jim had arranged over the last few days. He nodded pleasantly to the men, showed his ID badge, and pushed Blair through the doorway with a gentle hand to the small of his back.
Jim was really surprised by the number of minor artifacts that, combined with the mummy and sarcophagus, would make up the Aten portion of the exhibit. He walked around it, eyeing it critically while Blair began sorting through the various papers that accompanied the crates.
"You up to doing some moving for me, big guy?" Blair broke into his thoughts and he looked up, startled by the sound of his partner's voice after so much quiet.
"Yeah--whatcha need?"
"Well, this stuff," Blair began gesturing to some smaller boxes, "all needs to go upstairs to the exhibit hall. I just don't want to carry it all myself." The younger man flashed him a mischievous grin and Jim smiled back.
"Sure, Chief." Jim reached for the first box, then stopped. "It's gonna be okay? What about keeping this stuff guarded?"
"The only thing that needs to remain under guard is the actual mummy and sarcophagus. The rest are just 'setup' pieces-you know, to like set the scene so to speak."
"Ah. Okay." Jim crouched down and lifted one of the crates, grunting slightly as he did so. "Sandburg! What the hell is in this thing?"
Blair choked back a groan of frustrated desire at the sight of corded biceps bulging. "Umm...pottery, carvings. Stuff like that."
"Where's it go?"
"Upstairs, toward the center back of the exhibition hall." Blair grabbed his own box and headed out the door, Jim right behind him.
The elevator took forever, and Jim leaned the box against the wall to take some of the strain from his back and shoulders while he waited. He didn't notice Blair watching the play of muscles under the tight black tee-shirt, eyes heating as they roamed the broad expanse.
Blair sighed in relief when the elevator arrived. Much more time to look at Jim, and he'd have a serious problem on hand. Was getting one anyway, he thought ruefully as he shifted slightly, trying to compensate for the tightening of his jeans.
Jim heard Blair's heart rate increase and turned concerned eyes to his partner. "Okay Chief? The box too heavy?"
"Nah--was just getting tired of waiting for the elevator," Blair remarked casually, hoping that sounded plausible. It must have because Jim didn't question him any further.
Jim didn't question him any further because he was too busy watching Sandburg's ass as he led the way from the now-open elevator to the exhibit hall. 'Life isn't fair,' he thought as his eyes followed the curve of Blair's cheeks through the tight jeans. 'No one should have an ass that sexy. Or eyes that blue...a mouth that kissable...hands that incredibly sensual...' Jim suppressed a shudder as he remembered the barest of touches from those fingers on the back of his neck the other night. Accident or on purpose? He couldn't wait until this damned exhibit was done with, and their investigation wrapped up so he could talk to Blair about this.
Jim stopped in amazement when they walked into the Great Hall. He'd never seen an exhibition hall so large in a university building before. It seemed to spread out before him, easily covering ten thousand square feet, if not more. From where he stood he could see that there were two sets of double doors at the far end of the room, apparently leading in from the street, and also at the back of the hall where he and Blair were standing. There was a single set of double doors opposite of where they were, presumably leading to the stairwell and the basement.
"Cool, huh?" Blair watched his friend's eyes reflect awe at the hundreds of artifacts and miscellaneous items decorating the huge room.
"Man, you weren't kidding." Jim turned to Blair. "Did you know it was going to be this big?"
Blair laughed and led him further into the room. "Not at first--but it became pretty clear, pretty quick. That's why I chose this place--it's got the room to spread out. See that," the student gestured to a large open space in front of them, "that's gonna be where we put the sarcophagus. This stuff," he indicated the boxes they were still holding, "will go in a mini-exhibit around the sarcophagus--showcasing it, if you know what I mean."
Jim nodded, still looking around. Around the room, hung on all the walls were masks and charms; many of them reminded him of his time in Peru, and he shuddered slightly. There was a large concentration of South American art and artifacts at one end, and he moved toward it.
"Hey, Sandburg, what's this stuff?" He pointed to a gallery-style case near the setting labeled "Mayan Death Rituals".
"Um...just a sec...Oh, that. That's our exhibit of Ahz-hnaian Grave Figurines. The Ahz-hnaian are supposed to be an off-shoot of the Mayans, although it's never been proven conclusively."
"Grave figurines?"
"Mmhmm. Supposed to keep evil spirits away, that sort of thing."
"Great." Jim looked around, suddenly realizing how much of the contents of this room dealt with death. "What's that?" He switched gears and headed back in the opposite direction.
"What's what?" Blair hurried after him. The figurines had always given him the creeps, and he was glad to move on.
Jim was circling the mannequins wearing the Scotch and English battle-costumes, looking at them admiringly. He reached for one, noting the claymore, then his attention was snagged by the bayonet, and he pulled his hand back as if he'd been burned.
"It had that effect on me, too," Blair said quietly from behind him.
"What period?" There was an odd quality to his voice.
"Culloden. Charles Stuart's final bid for the throne."
Jim looked at the exhibit. Someone had arranged the mannequins so they stood opposite each other, arms reaching for the weapons at their sides. Two partitions had been set up and painted to give the illusion of countryside--presumably meant to be Scotland--and there was a third figure behind, carrying bagpipes that looked authentic. He noted distractedly that there was a breeze coming from somewhere, and moved behind the partitions.
"There's a door back here!"
"Yeah--we use it if the stairwell door is locked. It's a direct feed to the conference rooms that run next to the hall." Blair shook his head. "Hardly anyone knows it's here, Jim."
"Does Sarina?"
Blair paused. "I don't think so. *I* never told her...and Michael's not aware of it, either. Remember, I've been here a lot longer than either of them."
Jim shook his head, his face stern. "I should post a guard there."
"Look, man, the only way you can get in through that door is to go into the conference rooms--and you've got a guard covering the main entrance for that."
"I don't know, Sandburg."
"C'mon, big guy. Time's a-wasting, and I've got a lot more stuff for us to bring up."
Jim allowed himself to be led away, still uncomfortable with the unguarded door, but distracted by the feel of Blair's hand on his arm.
They worked steadily for most of the morning and afternoon, pausing briefly to eat some sandwiches Blair had brought for them. By the time five p.m. rolled around, nearly all of the minor artifacts that had accompanied Amen-hetep had been accounted for and shifted upstairs. They called it a day then; Blair effusive in his praise and thanks for Jim's help.
"No problem," Jim remarked as they headed for home. "I needed a good workout--haven't had many chances lately to do any exercising." He shifted in his seat and flexed his shoulders and back as he spoke.
"Your back bothering you?"
"A little," Jim admitted. "I think I pulled my shoulder again, too."
Blair frowned. "The same one?"
"Yeah." Jim was quiet for a minute. "Think you could rub it down again? It really helped that last time."
"Sure." Blair nodded emphatically. "Seems like the least I could do, man, after all the help you gave me today."
"Hey, how about Chinese for dinner? We can get carry-out, go home, watch a movie. You and I haven't had much chance to relax in a while."
Blair smiled. "You sure? I was ready to make dinner when we got home."
"Yeah, I'm sure. Let's go to Lee Wong's, okay? I want Cashew Chicken."
Blair shuddered. "Vegetable Lo-Mein for me, thanks. How can you eat that stuff?"
"What, the chicken or the cashews?"
Sunday evening, 5/4
"Ready for your rub-down?" Blair stopped in front of the couch where Jim was sitting, looking semi-comatose.
He shifted, rousing slightly. "Oh, yeah. Sure. You still up to it?"
'Boy, am I ever,' came the unbidden thought. Blair cleared his throat, hoping his Sentinel never learned how to read minds. "Yeah, I told you. It's like the least I can do." 'And I'd be happy to do way more than that...' God! Blair mentally threw his hands up in the air. "I'll do you--I'll do the massage on the couch, if you want. We'll just put a blanket under you, so nothing gets on it." Blair paused. "No, that's not gonna work--I'd have to straddle you." He took a deep breath against *that* imagery, and looked at Jim, who was watching him with an odd expression on his face.
"Mmm. Well, you need to be able to get to both sides, don't you?"
Blair nodded. "You want to sit up for it, instead?" Jim didn't seem to be noticing his slip a moment before, so he tried to put it from his mind as well.
"How about I lie on a blanket on the floor?"
"I'd still have to straddle you." 'Not that this would be a problem for *me*...'
"No you don't--you can reach both sides from one." 'God, I wish I had the nerve to just say go ahead, straddle me...I'd even turn over for you...'
"Okay, whatever. Strip off your shirt while I get the blanket and liniment."
"Do you have any oil instead?"
"What, like massage oil?"
Jim nodded.
"No--but I have baby oil. Would you rather have that?"
"Yeah--the liniment gave me a headache last time. Too strong-smelling."
"Okay, whatever works best for you."
Ten minutes later Blair was mentally kicking himself. A backrub with Jim sitting up in a chair would have been the best bet for him. The feel of strong muscles and warm skin slick with oil under his hands had him shifting uncomfortably as his erection grew. It was taking all of his self-control not to strip his own clothing off and rub his body along Jim's. He gasped, trying to stifle a hysterical giggle as he imagined what Jim's response to *that* would be.
Jim lifted his head from his arm and glanced back over his shoulder. "All right back there, Chief?"
Blair drew in a deep breath, trying to regain control. "Fine, man. Just had a weird thought...and a little too much stress lately. Never mind me."
'Right,' Jim thought, turning back to rest his head on his arm again. 'As if I could *not* mind you.' The feel of Blair's hands sliding all over his back and shoulders was about to drive him insane. He groaned silently and pressed his pelvis harder against the floor, trying to relieve some of the pressure from the hard-on he'd developed.
Blair hit a particularly sensitive spot, and Jim groaned out loud. It felt good to make some kind of noise, since he needed to release the tension somehow. God, those hands on his back... He wondered how they'd feel sliding against other parts of his body...and a mental image of Blair rubbing against him as he fucked him silly filled his mind. Oh, man, that was *not* the direction to take. Jim tried to think of sad things, morbid things...*anything*. Nothing helped. All he could see were images of him holding Blair, kissing Blair, stroking Blair...
He realized the hands had stopped, and he frowned against his forearm. Done already? He'd been hoping Blair wouldn't ever stop. He rolled over, intending to ask Blair if he could concentrate on his lower back. Blair had never removed his hands from Jim's slick back, and they followed the movement, coming to rest on Jim's chest, just below the nipples that had hardened already from Jim's thoughts and the touch of Blair's hands.
He glanced at his friend, noting the flushed face and increased breathing and heart rate. He ran his eyes up and down Blair's body quickly, and saw the large bulge covered by too-tight denim. Ass-hugging denim. His own cock throbbed uncomfortably at the sight, and he forced his eyes back up to Blair's face.
Blair had looked down when Jim rolled over, not realizing his hands were going with the motion. When Jim came to a rest he'd glanced down, intending to take a quick peek at the strong abs before moving away. The outline of Jim's hard cock caught his eye, and suddenly the focus of his world shifted. He raised his eyes then to meet Jim's, expecting to see...what? What was he expecting to see? Whatever it was, it wasn't the desire he saw burning there.
Their gazes locked and held for several long moments. Blair allowed his eyes to travel down the length of Jim's body again, lingering on the hard-on that was tenting the sweats his friend wore. His tongue darted out to lick at lips gone suddenly dry, and he watched Jim's eyes dilate further. A rush of heat moved through his system then, and heedless of the potential consequences, Blair gave into his longing and lowered his head to kiss Jim.
Rather than the rejection he expected, Jim's mouth opened willingly under his; a warm tongue slid aside to allow him in, then returned to caress his. Blair shivered at the feelings assailing him, and he shifted his body more onto Jim's to give himself an anchor.
Jim closed his eyes as soon as Blair's lips touched his own, and he gave in to the feelings and desires that had been haunting him for weeks now. His partner's mouth was warm and sweet, and gently demanding on his own, and Jim had never been so thoroughly kissed in his life.
They broke apart panting, bodies desperate for oxygen. No words were exchanged; just hot, charged looks that sent temperatures spiking further. Jim reached for Blair, pulling the soft cotton tee-shirt up over his head. His hands caressed the younger man's chest, combing through the soft curls there. Blair moaned softly at the sensation, and leaned in to kiss Jim once again.
Jim rolled over, pinning Blair beneath him then before holding his head steady for a deep, penetrating kiss. He thrust his tongue into the younger man's mouth hard and fast, at the same time grinding his pelvis against Blair's. Their arms and legs entangled as the kiss deepened further, until they were rubbing against each other frantically, desperate for each other and for release.
Blair twisted his head back, breaking the kiss, his hands scrambling with the waistband of Jim's sweats. The older man growled low in his throat as Blair's hands caressed him while pushing the pants down his hips. He pulled away from those hands and stood to pull the pants off, then knelt beside Blair and reached for his. Blair lifted his hips as Jim slid his jeans off, then pulled him back down, mouth searching for Jim's once again.
The kisses increased in heat and intensity as they began thrusting against each other; hard cocks weeping pre-ejaculate, providing a wet friction. Blair hung on to Jim's shoulders, groaning, when his partner brought one hand up to pinch lightly at nipples already tight and hard from excitement. Jim rolled the tender buds gently between thumb and forefinger, then pulled away from Blair's lips to take a taste. The younger man whimpered as warm lips encircled a sensitive nipple and suckled, sending tendrils of heat shooting through him. A large hand smoothed down his back to cup his ass, drawing him closer to the cock thrusting against his own. A finger probed his cleft, and Blair stiffened, throwing his head back to yell hoarsely as he came in hot spurts on their stomachs.
He pulled frantically at Jim's head, bringing his mouth back up for more kisses. Jim pulled him closer and rubbed hard against his body, the liquid heat from Blair's orgasm providing lubrication for movement. He pushed harder and faster, until his body tensed up and he spent himself with a low groan, body pulsing with the effort.
They lay together in a sweaty tangle on the living room floor, breath coming in harsh pants and heart rates still racing. Jim shifted so he was lying partly on his side, partly on his back. He gathered Blair in close to him, cuddling him into the crook of his arm. The younger man sighed and snuggled in, feeling safe within the circle of Jim's arms. His Sentinel wouldn't allow anything to happen to him, regardless of who wished him harm.
Jim exhaled in a rush as Blair curled into him, hand raising to rest against his chest, just over his heart. He could hear the steady thrum of Blair's heart, and knew his was beating in sync; echoing the rhythm. He began to gently stroke the sweaty curls, enjoying the quiet and the afterglow, content just to lie there with his Guide in his arms.
After a while Blair's breathing slowed and evened out, and Jim knew he was asleep. His own last waking thought was about how good this felt--Blair's arms around him, the warm weight of his Guide's leg pressing against his, the smell of their essences combined. This should ease him into sweet dreams...
Smoke surrounded him, and there were loud voices calling--both to him, and just calling out. He couldn't see very well at all, and his Sentinel abilities didn't seem to be working. Where was he? There was blood all around...blood on his hands, and on the large sword that appeared on the ground in front of him. With shock rippling through his brain he stepped back in horror from the sword, his mouth working in a soundless cry. A gasp of pain alerted him to the presence of another person and he whirled about, eyes widening in shock at the sight of Blair. He didn't look like *his* Blair, but he instinctively knew it was, and reacted accordingly. He held his arms out to him. Blair shook his head no, and spread his hands, showing what had been hidden from his sight at first--a large, bloody, gaping hole in his stomach. Jim fell to his knees then, turning his sight heavenward, pleading silently for someone to help him, let him know what he had to do. He turned back to Blair but the image was gone, just a puddle of blood where he'd stood...
The phone jarred them awake, and two pairs of startled eyes stared into one another's. Jim shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain and process why he was lying on the floor, naked, with his arms around Blair.
Blair closed his eyes, then opened them again, not quite believing that he was seeing what he was seeing. He and Jim were naked, lying in each other's arms.
And the phone kept ringing.
Jim untangled his legs from Blair's and rose to grab the phone. His nostrils flared as he caught the lingering scent of their pleasure, with a strong concentration of Blair on him. He snatched the phone up and growled, "Ellison!"
Blair sat up and put his arms around his knees, watching the other man's face grow stern, then grim. His heart sank as he realized there was no way it could be good news--not from Jim's expression, coming at two in the morning. Jim closed his eyes, then snapped them open, the blue startling in the dim light. "All right, Simon. We'll be there as quick as we can. Yeah, I gotta wake Sandburg up. Yeah. See you in a little bit."
Jim broke the connection and turned to look at Blair, unsure of what to say or do. Nothing had changed between them--except that they'd shared some very hot sex--he still didn't know how his friend felt about a relationship with him. Obviously he didn't have a problem with the sex part; the rest remained to be seen.
Blair climbed slowly to his feet. "I know that wasn't good news."
"No." Jim stood by the stairs, watching his--could he call him lover?--Guide. "The Ambassador and his assistant are both dead, as well as both of the ambassador's bodyguards."
Blair sucked his breath in. "What about the CPD guys?"
"No. They're fine." He moved a little closer to Blair. "We need to get dressed and get down there."
Blair nodded, then tipped his head to look at Jim, smoky-blue eyes serious. "We have to talk about this, man."
"I know. But not right now--we don't have time." Jim raised a hand as if to cup Blair's face, instead ran his thumb across a pouty lower lip that was still enticingly kiss-swollen, beckoning to him. "Definitely later." He turned and headed up the stairs.
Blair stood there for a minute watching him, his whole body tingling from just that tiny touch. He sighed and headed down the hallway to the bathroom.
"You know, this getting up in the middle of the night is really getting to be a drag," Blair commented as the Expedition sped down the deserted streets of Cascade.
Conversation between the two of them was a little forced, and he was trying to smooth the way, re-fuse the connections. He hadn't imagined it this way; the two of them dancing around each other. In the fantasies in his head, when he'd permitted himself anything more than a quick jerk-off fantasy, Blair had envisioned them waking up in *bed* together; comfortable with each other, happy, declarations of love from both. Not waking up on a blanket on the living room floor because a backrub got out of control, combined with the 'we-need-to-talk-but-can't-do-it-now' that they were having to deal with. He frowned to himself, and Jim interpreted that as disgust over being awakened in the middle of the night--again.
"Coming from the original bat that sounds pretty funny." Jim concentrated on the street in front of him, trying not to focus on the image of Blair writhing beneath him in pleasure.
"I can stay up working 'til all hours, but waking up is different." Blair's voice shifted on the word 'waking', and Jim felt his stomach clench. If only they'd had the chance to wake up--naturally--in the morning; they might be still lying there now, bodies pressed against each other, arms entwined--
"Jim!"
The panic in Blair's voice jarred him, and he shook his head to clear it. This was getting ridiculous--any deeper concentration, and he'd be zoning out. "What?"
"Man, you almost side-swiped that Escort back there! Pay attention, or let me drive." Blair was so shocked at their near miss his heart was pounding. Jim had nearly driven them into another car! What the hell was he thinking about?
They exited the elevator at penthouse level, and Jim's nose wrinkled in disgust. He'd scented the unique odor of blood the minute he'd walked through the doors of the hotel, and the closer they got to the source the stronger it became. He walked through the open door, swaying as the stench of blood hit him full on.
Blair was at his side in an instant, clutching his arm. "Jim! Are you okay? What's wrong?"
The Sentinel shook his head. "I'm fine. It's the blood..." A flash of his dream came back to him, and he shuddered. Blair tightened his grip for a moment, then let go of Jim's arm.
Jim gently pushed the younger man behind him as they walked further into the room. He knew it was bad; could tell that from the strength of the odor, and wanted to spare his partner as much as possible. "Stay close, Chief. You'll be okay," he whispered.
Simon walked up to them. "Jim. Sandburg. Sorry I had to drag you out of bed." He focused on the detective. "It's not good, Jim. The ME is in there now."
"Show me," Jim's face was set into a determined mask.
The captain glanced at Blair. "Maybe you should stay here, Sandburg. It's pretty messy."
Blair shook his head. "No, Simon. Jim needs me. He's already on edge from the smell--I don't want him zoning."
Jim gave him a look that was at once both amused and grateful, as Simon grunted and led the way.
The crime scene resembled a slaughterhouse. Jim shook his head, knowing yet finding it hard to believe that two bodies could hold so much blood. What the hell had happened here? He moved further into the room and spotted the medical examiner. Behind him he felt Blair clutch at his arm as the younger man got his first good look--and probably smell now, too--at the carnage.
"Oh, *man*," Blair gasped. He clutched at Jim briefly, then turned away, but not before he saw the crude drawing on the wall, done in blood.
Jim touched his arm gently in a sympathetic gesture; then knelt down between the two bodies to speak to the medical examiner who hovered next to them.
"Whatcha got, Cicely?"
The examiner spared him a brief glance before returning to her examination. "Murder weapon was that ceremonial dagger." She pointed to the knife which had already been bagged and labeled. "It was used to slice the ambassador's throat and stab his companion in the stomach. Boussard," she indicated the body with the stomach wound, "was clutching the dagger. Due to the angle of the entry wound, it's safe to say he killed himself."
Jim frowned. "So you're saying that Boussard probably killed El Ka'ab, then killed himself."
"It's a good bet, detective." Cicely picked up Boussard's left hand. "The index finger is bloodied. We think he used it to draw the symbol on the wall with the ambassador's blood. We won't know for sure until we type the blood and match the prints, but it's my opinion."
"Who discovered the bodies?"
Simon answered from his position behind the detective. "DeAngelo and Frasier, when they did their mid-watch tour of the area."
"Did the other team check with the ambassador before leaving?" Jim questioned, trying to pinpoint the time of death.
Simon nodded. "The two men were alone. No one came in or left during those four hours. The bodyguards were on the couch, watching TV, and Boussard and El Ka'ab were both in their rooms. Two hours later we have four DBs."
"It supports the murder/suicide theory," Jim stood up and brushed off his pants. "Damn it! Why do you suppose Boussard did it?"
"Boussard probably didn't feel the same way about Egyptian artifacts as the ambassador did. And you said it yourself before, Jim. Religious fanatics don't need a motive. It looks like he was a member of the cult of Aten, too." Blair's voice shook slightly.
Jim turned to see his Guide leaning against a wall; face pale, eyes closed. "You gonna make it, Chief?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Yeah, man," Blair took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "Just a little hard to take, that's all."
Jim nodded, then looked toward the far wall where the bloody disk-worshipper's symbol had been placed. His eyes narrowed as he considered the connection between this murder and the exhibit, and the danger to his friend. "You're probably right, Chief. Boussard was probably a member. Why else paint the symbol?"
"But why would he kill himself, rather than make a run for it?" Simon had moved from his stoic position by the door to look at the bloody symbol. "That doesn't make any sense."
Blair shook his head. "Well yeah, it does, kind of."
Jim and Simon both turned to stare at him, Jim's eyebrow cocked in cynical curiosity. "Okay, teach, give us your theory."
The younger man shook his head again. "Not mine, Jim. Just a general opinion based on a lot of study of honor-based societies, like the Japanese for a start. You know, like Kamikaze warriors? Making the ultimate sacrifice for god or king--what's more ultimate than your life? It's like, given the choice between killing for your god and getting caught, or killing for your god then killing yourself, the choice becomes simple--death or dishonor."
Jim nodded. "Sound enough argument. But how could he be that close to the ambassador without someone finding him out?"
Blair rolled his eyes. "What, you think the members of the cult advertise? Get real, man. Think like, covert, okay? I doubt Boussard left notes to El Ka'ab telling him the times he was going to his secret cult meetings."
"Okay, Sandburg, you've made your point," Simon broke in. "But isn't it advertising by leaving the symbol for us?"
"Well, sure. But what's he got to lose now? He's dead, so he can't talk--no dishonor there. Just a little message from him to tell us how stupid we all are to have believed him--" Blair closed his mouth abruptly, and Jim threw him a sharp look. He knew his partner was beginning to question his judgment in people--that was twice in just over a week now.
"Take it easy, Chief--we were all fooled by Boussard. El Ka'ab most of all--and look at the price he paid." Jim sighed and looked down at the medical examiner who was busy ignoring them in favor of finishing up her preliminary exam. "Let's see what the forensics reports tell us before we make any definite conclusions. I want to make sure everything is covered."
Simon nodded, gesturing Jim and Blair toward the door to the living area of the penthouse. "There's not much more to do here, Jim. We've got to give our people time to work on this, and it's not like we have a suspect to chase. Why don't you and Sandburg go on home, get some rest, then come in early in the morning. You're gonna need the rest, since this will probably become an international incident. Once the news hits the press, things will become infinitely worse."
Jim gestured around the penthouse, the smell of blood hanging in a heavy cloud around it--around him. "It already has." He sighed heavily, then gestured toward the door with his head. "C'mon, Sandburg. We'll see you in the morning, sir."
Blair exchanged a concerned look with Simon before following his partner out the door.
The truck was parked a short distance away from the hotel entrance, and Blair took the opportunity to inhale deep lungfuls of cool, clean-smelling air in an attempt to wash the smell of blood from his memory. He climbed into the truck and leaned back, eyes closed; waited for Jim to start the engine. When several long minutes passed with nothing happening, Blair opened his eyes to gaze at his friend.
The older man was slumped forward, his head leaning against the steering wheel, arms blocking his face.
Blair reached over and laid a gentle hand on one arm, feeling the tense muscles beneath his fingers. "Jim? What is it? What's wrong?" The Sentinel was silent for so long that Blair thought at first he'd zoned, and hadn't heard him. He opened his mouth to speak again, and Jim's voice cut him off.
"The blood," he whispered, raising his head to look at Blair. "The smell...so much of it...I can't shake it."
Blair's heart flopped over at the anguish he heard in Jim's voice. He snagged Jim's eyes with his own, and held them; tightened his grip reassuringly on the arm he still held. "Take a few deep breaths, man. Open the window if you have to, but *breathe*. Clear your head, and concentrate."
Jim shook his head. "No, you don't understand. I can't shake it. It's too strong. I close my eyes, and all is see is *blood*, staining everything, covering everything. I'm drowning in it, and I can't stop it!" Jim's voice rose on the last note, an edge of hysteria to it.
Blair squeezed Jim's arm again, hoping the contact would help to bring his Sentinel back from the zone-out--since that's what this was rapidly beginning to look like. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then began speaking in a low monotone; words and cadence quiet and soothing. "It's okay, Jim. The blood is gone now. Hear my voice, listen to what it tells you. Take a few deep breaths...that's it, big guy...the blood is gone. There's no more, okay? Breathe again...in, out, that's right..." The young Guide's voice had dropped into a hypnotic rhythm, and he trailed off as Jim began the deep breathing on his own. Blair watched his partner for signs of relaxing, and was happy to feel the muscles under his hand loosen. He breathed out quietly, then began again, "Okay, Jim...a few more breaths, the smell is disappearing now. Notice how everything smells clean again. It's okay to smell again...that's it..."
When he sensed that Jim had recovered from the zone-out, and was now relaxed and more at ease Blair began a shift from hypnotic to cadenced again, drawing Jim back into the sphere of reality. He gave the now-relaxed arm a final squeeze, then sat back in his own space, watching. "You okay, big guy?"
Jim gave him a smile that Blair could only interpret as tender--and relieved. "Yeah...whew," he sighed again as he put the truck into drive. "God... I wouldn't have made it through that without you, Chief. I'm okay now, I think..."
"I'm glad. But I'm curious, too." Blair frowned, the scientist in him taking over, thinking back to the penthouse. "There wasn't any more blood there than some crime scenes we've worked--less than at some, in fact--so why did it bother you so bad? The enclosed area? The fact that this case is like the biggest pain in the ass we've had in a while, and you're totally focused? Outside distractions? Any ideas?"
Jim shook his head, a sense of uneasiness settling over him. Vague snatches of a blood-soaked dream flashed across his vision, and he shook his head to clear it. "I don't know. I can't explain it, but it was like there was this...*cloud* hanging around the scene--I could smell it so clearly I could almost see it. I don't know," he finished in a frustrated tone.
"It's okay, Jim. We're just gonna have to take it easy on the olfactory input for a few days. This is your second zone-out over smell in, what, a couple of weeks. Not good, buddy. Not good."
"I know. God, I know." Jim hesitated, then reached a hand over to lay it on Blair's knee for a minute, giving a brief squeeze before pulling away. "Thanks, Blair."
The younger man's smile was like a ray of sunshine shining down on him.
Tuesday morning, 5/6
Jim growled in disgust as he shifted the piles of paper around on the kitchen table. The lab reports from the ambassador's murder had come in yesterday, and seemed to confirm what they'd all hypothesized at the murder scene.
Fingerprints on the wall were a match to Boussard. Lab analysis of el Ka'ab's body detected minute traces of cyanide poisoning. Careful posthumous examination of the bodies backed up Cicely's initial hypothesis: Boussard had killed the ambassador, then turned the knife on himself. As for why he'd done it, all they had was conjecture; Blair's theory was sound, but without having a live body to back it up, they'd never know for sure.
What was the connection to the strange happenings at the museum and the university, though? Jim had been through the paperwork for both cases so many times now he'd nearly memorized it. He'd tried to concentrate at his desk yesterday, but half-formed images kept coming back to haunt him: he and Blair locked in a passionate embrace, loving each other; then Blair bathed in blood, screaming in agony. Smoke-filled air surrounding him, and the scent of blood hanging over him in a cloud of death. Jim shuddered and shifted the papers again. Even here at home he couldn't completely quell the images--although he was doing a little better than he had yesterday.
The common denominator to all of this was the cult of Aten, but *how* it became the denominator was eluding him. He'd spent most of the morning so far trying to tie Boussard to Sarina and Sethos, but couldn't find the linking piece. They *had* to have been working together toward their common goal--preserving the cult of Aten, and the artifacts connected to it. What Jim wanted--needed--to know was what kind of contact the pair here had had with Boussard, how they connected with each other, and what the next move would be.
Jim pushed the lab reports aside and picked up the file report he'd typed up last night. The search warrant for Sarina's apartment had finally come through, and he'd managed a thorough search yesterday. Blair had had another TA administer his beginning anthro final so he could accompany Jim--fearful enough that the older man would have another zone-out to challenge university policies and skip the last day of classes.
It'd been, in some ways, an enlightening search. They'd turned up a bottle of Tea Rose perfume on her vanity, which, upon examination, had matched the scent he remembered from the museum. They had also found private papers and photographs that indicated that Sarina's father was of Egyptian descent. The man in question had been a history professor at Oxford University for a number of years, before retiring recently.
Jim tapped the report against the table, knowing there was something in it that could connect everything. He read through it again, trying to figure it out. Oxford. What was it...something Blair had said...Keb Boussard had *attended* *Oxford*. He pulled out the dossiers on the now-deceased Egyptian ambassador and advisor, and began scanning Boussard's, eyes lighting up at the confirmation. Boussard had attended the distinguished university at the same time Sarina's father had been a professor there. Both men had been active in Egyptian politics, and very vocal about their feelings on policies and religious matters. Boussard's degree was in political science; Professor Collins was a history teacher. Given the circles they attended, it was likely they knew each other. Jim wasn't sure what the actual connection was between Sarina's father, Boussard and Sethos, and the role Sarina played in the connection, but he figured it would surface soon. Certainly the groundwork had been laid for Sarina to have exposure to the cult of Aten...and the fact that she was still absent was highly damning.
Jim groaned silently when he realized that he was going to have to share this information with Blair. The kid had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange to go with him yesterday, and Jim was going to slap him in the face with the results of it.
As if responding to the unspoken thoughts about him, the door to the small room where Blair slept opened, and his Guide strolled out, backpack slung over his shoulder.
"Hey, man. I gotta run--but I'll be back in time to fix dinner." Blair smiled at Jim; a tentative smile that suddenly turned seductive. "We still need to talk, big guy. Wanna set aside a block of time tonight?"
Jim nodded, the smile doing odd things to his pulse and his breathing. He began to return the smile when Blair's words sank in. "Where're you going?"
"Don't you remember? I told you yesterday--I've got some last minute stuff to do for the exhibit. Mostly PR stuff, but a few things still need to be arranged. And since Sarina hasn't been around..." Blair's voice trailed off, and he shrugged. "Anyway, murders notwithstanding, I've got a shitload of work waiting to be done, and now I have finals to grade as well." There was a pause, then Blair looked at Jim, a frown on his face. "You're not going to give me trouble over this, are you? We *did* discuss it--you said it was okay since there're armed guards there now."
"No... no problem. I remember what I said. And yeah, as far as talking...I agree. We shouldn't put it off any longer." Jim's stomach flipped over thinking about *why* they had to talk, and he rose from the table and headed for Blair, who was standing by the door.
The younger man turned questioningly when Jim laid a hand on his shoulder. The desire--and something else--shining in Jim's eyes took his breath away, and Blair opened his mouth to speak. Jim lowered his head and captured that mouth, like he'd been aching to do for nearly two days now, thrusting his tongue deep inside the moist cavern. He held Blair tightly, and kissed him until both of them needed to breathe or risk passing out. Then Jim pulled away, the whisper of a caress traced along Blair's cheek.
"Be careful," the bigger man said softly, watching his Guide.
Blair nodded mutely and left the loft.
Oh, my God. Oh. My. God. *Oh* *My* *God*. Blair leaned against the Corvair, his lips still tingling--hell, his whole *body* still tingling--from that kiss. What the hell was up with that? What was up with Jim, come to that. He shivered at the thought of there being any kind of chance that his Sentinel had feelings for him--beyond friendship. 'Gods, please. I don't ask very often...but you know this man and I belong together. Please...'
Impromptu prayer over with, Blair put himself into hustle-mode. He was already running late, and there were too many things he needed to accomplish today to risk running any later. Not if he wanted to get home early so he and Jim could talk. Another shiver tripped up and down his nervous system at that thought, and Blair grinned. It was gonna be a good day.
Jim sat back down at the table, retrieving the papers he'd pushed out of his way when he'd stood up. He picked up the report he'd been studying, and began reading it for the third or fourth time, looking for that elusive something that could tie all the pieces together.
The phone rang a little while later, startling him out of possible theories. "Ellison," he answered, absently scanning the sheets in front of him.
Simon's voice on the other end pulled him to full alert with his words. "Jim, we just got a report in from campus security over at Rainier. There's a group of protestors--probably triple the number from yesterday--and they're more hostile than the others have been."
Jim felt his heart leap into his throat. "Shit. Sandburg just left for there maybe half an hour ago. Damn it, I *knew* this would happen when they got wind of the ambassador's murder. Damned exhibit..." Jim let his voice trail off.
"Jim?"
"Yeah, sorry. Look, Simon, I gotta warn Blair. Meet you over there in about fifteen?"
"Sounds good."
Jim broke the connection with Simon, then dialed Sandburg's cell phone. The phone rang in Blair's bedroom, where he'd left it when he repacked his backpack that morning.
Smothering a curse, the Sentinel hung up the phone and reached for his holster, hands suddenly shaking at the potential danger facing his Guide.
"Simon!" Jim spotted his captain as he jogged the short distance from the parking area to where the protestors had been virtually camped out in front of the Anthropology building. He could see roughly twenty protestors milling about, signs bobbing in the air. They looked peaceful enough for the moment, but there was definitely an undercurrent of hostility that hadn't been present before now.
Simon turned away from the man he was speaking with and addressed his detective. "Jim." He nodded to the man, and turned back again. This is Captain Jerome Wylie. He's in charge of campus security. Wylie, Jim Ellison, one of my senior detectives."
"Nice to meet you, Detective," Wylie stuck his hand out and Jim grasped it.
"Likewise. What's the situation here?" Jim indicated the protestors with a nod of his head.
Wylie brushed at his buzz cut and grimaced. "Your captain told me that you're in charge of the security for that thrice-damned exhibit, so I figured you'd want to know that things are on the verge of getting ugly here."
Jim nodded, smiling slightly. 'Thrice-damned? Blair's gonna love to hear *that*.' "They look pretty quiet to me," he said cautiously.
"Yeah, but I got this, this morning, too." Wylie handed Jim a note, and the other man felt his heart sink as he opened it and scanned the words. It warned that 'those who persist in desecration earn eternal wrath and damnation, and to expect more in the way of retribution.'
"Expect more? More of what?" Jim felt a weariness toward the whole thing sweep through him, and he turned toward the building, half expecting to see it blow up in front of him.
The answer to his question came in the form of a shout, then a scream. Jim whirled around in time to see a protestor slam his sign on top of the head of one of the campus policemen. That had been the signal, and pandemonium broke loose as fists began to fly.
Jim stepped forward to try and calm the crowd when a flash of yellow caught his eye. He turned and followed the movement, and saw Sarina Collins enter the anthropology building. His heart stopped for a moment as an icy fist of fear clenched around it. Shit! Blair was in there. "Simon! Sarina Collins just entered the building--I'm going after her. Sandburg's in there," he finished, when it looked like Simon was going to protest.
Without waiting for a reply, Jim began shoving his way through the protestors, running toward the entrance of the building. He hesitated only briefly before *knowing* that Blair would be in the exhibit hall, and headed for the closest access: the outside doors.
He paused in the entryway when his sentinel hearing caught whisper-faint voices.
"So you dare challenge the authority of the Aten? Who do you think you are? You're nobody--a miserable peasant in the eyes of my God. You're not strong enough to challenge *me*, much less the God Amen-hetep."
"Amen-hetep wasn't a god; he was a man just like you and me, Sethos," Blair shot back, and Jim could hear the anger and uncertainty in his voice.
"Ah, so you know who I am," the dangerous voice continued. "That's good. I like for my sacrifices to know who set them free of the physical bonds of life; who committed them to the God with a knife stroke."
The last few words set Jim running to the entry doors in a near-mindless panic, horror sweeping through him. He could still hear the last syllables of Sethos' speech hissing through the quiet when he reached the double doors and pushed through, taking care not to let the door bang shut.
Shock and impotence flash through him as he realized his mistake; in coming through the outer doors, he was at the end of the hall--Blair and Sethos were hundreds of feet in front of him, with cases of artifacts in between, creating a maze--much too far to neutralize the threat to Blair without warning the terrorist in advance. He pulled his gun from its holster, and ducked behind an exhibit case, not wanting Sethos to see him before he could reach the man.
His Guide was facing partially toward him, staring the other man down, defiance written all over his stance. Jim could almost feel the waves of anger coming off Blair, directed toward the former priest-turned-terrorist.
"You'd better leave, Sethos," Blair was saying. "The guards will be here any minute. I don't care if you worship to Amen-hetep, just get the fuck out of my life to do it." The anthropologist hadn't noticed Jim's entrance.
Sethos laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "There won't be any guards or police, pretty boy. They're too busy with the protestors. It's just you and I, and a ritual that needs finishing." The terrorist punctuated his statement with several menacing steps forward, and Blair began moving--further away, Jim noted with rising concern.
"You set the protestors up." Blair suddenly realized what was going on. "You've been behind the protest movement all along."
"Partially. Some of them are here because they really are protesting the exhibit--but most of them I hired, to cause a distraction."
Blair shook his head. "You won't get away with it, man. I have a good friend who's a cop--he'll hunt you to the ends of the earth if anything happens to me."
Another harsh sound, masquerading as a laugh. "You mean Ellison, right? He's not a threat to me." Sethos took a few more steps, and Blair moved backward to keep the distance between them.
Jim could hear Blair's heart thundering in his chest, and began to stealthily pick his was forward, maintaining his cover behind the cases scattered throughout the room.
"He's more of a threat than you're giving him credit for."
"Nothing can--"
Sethos didn't get to finish whatever it was he was going to say, because at that moment the noise of a door banging shut reverberated through the hushed room. Blair caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and twisted slightly to see Sarina coming around the partition that was part of the Culloden tableau.
Sethos took that opportunity to draw his dagger and advance on Blair, whose attention was now divided.
Jim saw Sarina come from behind the partition, and cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have placed a guard on that door the minute he found it Sunday. A flash of light spiraling off the ceiling caught his eye, and he pulled his attention back to Sethos who had drawn a dagger--Christ, it was like the ceremonial dagger Boussard had killed El Ka'ab with--and was now moving toward Blair. Shit! He ducked out from behind the case, gun already cocked and ready.
"Sethos! Freeze!"
Sethos ignored him, and reached for Blair, who darted away from him.
Sarina grabbed the bayonet from the display.
Ellison ran full tilt toward the three figures, watching as if in slow motion. Blair whipped his head between the two armed people, then swung his gaze forward to connect with Jim's.
Jim had a sudden flash from his dream a couple nights before of his Guide standing before him, bleeding from a fatal wound to the stomach.
Sethos lunged for Blair, dagger flashing.
The detective dropped to one knee and aimed, squeezing the trigger a split second after.
Sarina moved toward Blair, the bayonet arcing.
Jim saw the movement and swung the gun around, just as his finger completed the squeezing motion.
She jabbed Blair sharply in the stomach just a few seconds before the bullets impacted, crying out, "You should have loved me...you should have...I could have made you happy..."
Three bullets found their mark, slamming Sarina backward, blood rushing from the wounds in her chest.
"No! BLAIR!" Jim's shout was a roar of fury and fear as he ran the remaining distance to his partner.
Sethos ran past Jim, fleeing through the double doors.
Jim noted his departure in a distant portion of his brain, but his entire focus was on Blair.
The young man looked up at him in confusion, hands clutching at the wound in his mid-section. Dazedly he fell to his knees, a whimper rising from him. He held his hands out, red with blood, and Jim felt the dream he'd had a few days ago crash into him.
"Jim," Blair whispered, the sound harsh in the silence. "The blood...I'm sorry, I tried..." He slumped forward into Jim's waiting arms.
Jim clutched his partner to him, trying to send him his own strength. He looked around wildly when he realized that Sethos had indeed disappeared during the confusion.
"JIM!" Simon's voice carried across the great room. Jim raised his eyes from Blair's face to see his captain and a dozen armed men running toward him.
"Simon--we need an ambulance. Blair's hurt." Jim looked back down at the younger man cradled in his arms; blood turning both their clothing red. "Hang on, buddy. Be strong, you can do it..."
Dimly, as background noise, Jim heard Simon shouting commands to the uniforms, calling for the EMTs. He tuned most of it out, focusing his attention on the man he held against his chest. He placed his own hands over the wound, trying to contain the lifeforce that had become more precious to him than his own existence. He rocked them slowly, trying to calm himself as much as impart strength to Blair. He whispered to Blair, trying to focus so he didn't zone out. "Please, Chief... You can't leave me, Blair--I just found you. Keep breathing, baby, keep working...I know it hurts," Jim paused and flinched when Blair whimpered, a small cry of pain escaping the pale lips. "I know it hurts, but focus on me...listen to my voice, okay? I'm here with you..."
A very brief nod told him Blair was listening, and Jim tightened his arms around him.
The hypnotic quality of his voice calmed both men, and put Jim into a light trance-like state. He heard no one, saw no one, was aware of nothing other than Blair; wasn't aware when the medics arrived. He was shocked back into awareness when one of the medics reached to pull Blair from Jim's arms.
"No!"
"Jim," Blair whispered weakly. His stomach felt like it was on fire, and the heat was rising; racing through his veins, consuming him. It was an effort to speak, to remain conscious, but he was going to do his best for Jim's sake. "Jim, come on... No...Ungh..." he gasped as a another wave of pain washed over him. He tugged at the hands covering his wound with what little strength remained, aware on some level that Simon had knelt next to them, and was trying as well to disengage Jim. "Jim, don't...zone. I'll...be okay. We'll work...through this... Not alone...anymore...Jim, c'mon..."
Blair was gasping with the effort by the time his words sank in and reached the Sentinel.
Jim looked around as he realized where he was and what was happening. He glanced down at the man he held in his embrace. "Blair?" he questioned in a harsh whisper.
The younger man managed a weak smile. "Glad you're back with us, buddy..." he rasped before closing his eyes.
"Jim," Simon placed a hand on the Sentinel's shoulder. "He needs medical attention. The medics need to get him transported. You have to let go, and let them do their job."
'Never,' Jim thought fiercely. 'I'll never let you go, Chief.' He stood up with Blair cradled against him, then laid the man gently onto the stretcher, never letting go of his hand.
'Never,' he thought again as he followed the stretcher and EMTs to the ambulance and climbed in for the ride to hospital.
Chapter 9
Tuesday afternoon, 5/6
The ambulance hit a pothole and Blair groaned as he was jostled slightly. Jim tightened his grip on the clammy hand held in his, and whispered, "Hang on, Blair--we're almost there."
The fingers squeezed back, and a pair of startlingly blue eyes opened to stare at him. "Hurts," Blair said quietly, in a plaintive tone.
Jim smoothed sweaty curls back from the pale face. "I know, Chief. We're almost to the hospital...just hold on, okay? I'm here for you. Squeeze as hard as you need to."
Blair nodded and closed his eyes against the next wave of pain. Flashing through his mind were images of past lives: Ky, Bran and Andrew. He *wasn't* going to die this time, dammit! Jim loved him, he could sense it. Had known it for, well, days now. You just didn't end up on the floor kissing and touching someone you didn't care about, and definitely didn't just randomly kiss someone goodbye the way Jim had kissed him this morning. Oh, god...just this morning? So much had happened...so much pain and betrayal; he groaned low in his throat, and Jim leaned over him again.
"Blair?"
He shook his head, not ready to talk. All he could see now was Sarina's shocked face, and the look in her eyes as she stumbled forward, most likely dead before she hit the floor. He felt a tear slide down his face at the thought of the wasted life.
"Blair...what is it? Do you need something?"
"Sarina..." he managed to gasp, his stomach clenching involuntarily and sending tremors of pain shooting through him.
"What about her?" Jim's lips tightened. What a little bitch! It wasn't enough that she had to go and resurrect the hideous cult; she had to try and murder Blair--someone she'd cared about, called friend--on top of it. His free hand shook slightly, and he clenched it.
"Is she...dead?"
Jim took a deep breath. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Chief. It was her, or you...and I couldn't let it be you."
"Don't be sorry, Jim," was the raspy whisper. "Don't be sorry."
Blair closed his eyes and lay back again on the stretcher. Jim watched him, an incredible feeling of tenderness flowing through him; tempered by a fierceness that took him by surprise. All he could remember now of the whole incident was the fury that overtook him when he watched the bayonet raise to pierce Blair. No! He'd lost him enough...
Huh? Where'd *that* thought come from?
"Heads up, Detective. We're here," one of the EMTs called from the front of the ambulance.
Jim left that thought alone and focused on the flurry of activity that was taking place now to transport his partner from the ambulance to the emergency room. He followed alongside the gurney, still hanging on to Blair's hand.
They stopped outside a treatment room, and tall young man dressed in green surgical scrubs placed a hand against Jim's chest, stopping him. "I'm sorry, but you're not allowed in with him."
"That's my partner, doc--"
"I'm sorry, sir. Hospital policy."
Jim looked down when he felt a squeeze on his hand. He leaned in close to Blair and heard him whisper, "Give it up, big guy, and let 'em fix me up, okay? I'm not going anywhere--we still have to have that talk."
Jim closed his eyes briefly before returning the squeeze and nodding.
Blair squeezed one more time, then whispered very low so only sentinel ears could hear, "I love you, Jim." Then his hand slipped from Jim's, and he was gone, moved into the triage room.
Jim stood outside the room, listening to the doctors and nurses moving around Blair, issuing orders and giving information. His mind whirled with the last words Blair had said to him; 'I love you', rang over and over, echoed by his own heart. "I love you too, Blair."
He stumbled to a chair in the waiting area just beyond the treatment rooms and buried his head in his hands, shaking with the effort to control himself.
A seemingly endless time later, although he learned afterward it hadn't been more than half an hour, a doctor--the same one who'd refused him entry--came to talk to him, shaking his shoulder gently to get his attention when it couldn't be gained in the conventional manner.
Ellison focused on the doctor, positive that they'd come to tell him Blair was dead. "Yeah?"
"I'm Doctor McCann. You Detective Ellison?" At Jim's nod the man continued, "Mr. Sandburg's injury is serious, but not potentially life-threatening. He needs surgery to repair the damage--there is some internal bleeding--but the entry point of the wound is well away from internal organs. Well, we believe his large intestine has been nicked, but nothing was perforated."
"Can I see him now?" Jim's heart was beating triple-time at the thought of Blair having surgery.
"Not now, I'm sorry. He's already being prepped for surgery; in fact, they should be starting shortly. He signed the permission forms for us, although he did say you're his emergency contact?"
"Yeah." Jim sighed loudly. "How long for the surgery?"
"Let me introduce you to the surgeon, and you can talk to him about it."
"That'd be good. And can you have one of the nurses keep an eye out for my captain? Simon Banks--big, tall, African-American guy, wears glasses. He should be here shortly."
"Yeah, I'll have the admissions desk keep a watch for him. Come on, and I'll introduce you to the surgeon."
"Jim?"
Ellison started from his light doze, and looked around in a panic. He settled down when he saw Simon standing in the doorway to the tiny waiting room.
"How's the kid?" his captain continued, sitting down across from him.
"In surgery," Jim said shortly. "Jesus, Simon--she *stabbed* him. I can't believe she stabbed him." He looked down at his hands, then back up at his friend. "Did you get Sethos?"
Simon shook his head. "We've got the airport covered, and the ports, and all major routes in and out of the city, but, Jim...the man's an international terrorist. Interpol's been trying for years to get him. We may never catch him."
Jim growled, "He's scum, and he'll get caught one of these days. Maybe just not by us."
"You're probably right. Now tell me what's going on with Sandburg. You said he's in surgery?"
Jim nodded and rubbed a hand absently over his face. He needed to shave--hadn't done it that morning, hadn't figured on going out. Dammit! He should be at home right now, getting ready to have that talk with Blair. 'I love you,' he heard again, and turned to look behind him. It sounded so *close*.
"Jim?"
He focused back on his captain. "Sorry, Simon. Just gathering my thoughts. Yeah, Blair's in surgery--he has a nicked large intestine, and a lot of what they call 'bleeders', little blood vessels and whatnot, to tie off. The surgeon said four to six hours; it's been a little over one. Prognosis is good--it's not a life-threatening wound."
"Why don't you go home and get cleaned up, then? If it's going to be a while...Christ Almighty, man, you look like hell," Simon asserted when Jim continued to shake his head.
"I can't leave yet, Simon. I need to be here, in case--" he broke off, unable to make himself form the words. 'If thought be deed,' he remembered his mother saying when he was small. 'No, I'm not going to think it, because if I don't think it, it can't happen.'
"Jim," his captain began in a gentle voice, "what's going on here? I know you like the kid and all, but..."
Jim jerked his head up and stared at the other man. "Nothing's going on, sir. I just need to be here. When he's out of surgery, I'll go home. Not before then." He gestured to himself--dirty, unshaven, with blood-stained clothing--and smiled ruefully. "I realize I'd scare the hell out of anyone I met right now. But I'm not looking to win any beauty contests at the moment, either."
Simon nodded and stood up. "I'm gonna get some coffee. Want some?"
Jim shook his head. "I'm too wired already. Thanks, though."
Banks smiled at Jim and left the room, leaving the detective alone again with his thoughts. Jim sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, deciding that some sleep might not be a bad thing right now.
Ian woke in the pale, thin light of early morning, with a deep sense of foreboding in his heart. Something was wrong here--something was going to happen.
He rolled over and propped himself onto his elbow to gaze down at the face of the person he loved more than life itself-his lover, Ky.
Oh, he knew it was wrong to love another man--in fact, many said that those who did were bound to go straight to hell, but he and Ky laughed and said that at least they'd be there together. Still, he couldn't suppress a private shudder at the thought of being damned to an eternity of hell just because the person he loved--who loved him back in return--was a man, same as he. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right...and therefore they didn't tell a soul.
Ky had begged him once or twice to go away; maybe they could find somewhere where they could be together, openly, freely, without prejudice marring the beauty of what they had between them. He'd said no, it was wrong to skulk off like that.
He ran a hand down the smooth, muscled chest before him, and Ky twitched in his sleep. It would be full dawn soon, and they'd have to rise and part. He wanted to love Ky one last time before then, to have something sweet to take into battle. He moved closer to the sleeping man and began gently kissing him, lips moving in slow, seductive circles around Ky's face, tongue tracing the outline of Ky's mouth, until it opened beneath his with a sleepy groan from its owner.
"Ian..."
"Mo cridh," Ian muttered as he placed tiny kisses across Ky's brow, moving downward, kissing every inch of skin. He ran a hand down Ky's body, and felt the other man arch into his touch. "I love ye, Ky MacKenzie. Ne'er forget, d'ye hear? I love ye."
"Aye, I...l-love ye too, Ian. Oh-h-h!"
Ian smiled against Ky's chest as he took first the right, then left nipple into his mouth, sucking until the flat nubs were standing up stiff, begging for further attention. Ky's hands threaded their way into his long hair, and held Ian prisoner against the broad chest. Ky's moans were continuous now, and his body was undulating against Ian's.
"That's it, love...aye, I make ye feel good, don't I?" Ian moved further down Ky's body, loving every inch of it with lips, tongue, teeth and fingers. The bigger man shook beneath him with want and need, begging softly for the release that Ian could give him.
"Ian, please...I need ye, mi dhu. Come in to me...take me..."
His lover was gasping and trembling beneath him, and Ian didn't want to wait any longer, didn't want to tease. He spat into his hand several times and coated his cock, then spooned up behind Ky, entering him slowly.
Ian gasped as Ky's body stretched around him to accommodate, then slowly tightened again. He was engulfed in the hot channel, deep inside his lover. They were joined physically now as they were joined spiritually always. He grasped Ky's hand, twining their fingers together, and began to gently move within him, loving him.
They shuddered through their release together, then lay there, panting and shaking. Ian raised a hand and smoothed Ky's golden curls from his forehead. "I love ye, mo cridh. Ye're everything to me, ye know."
"Aye, Ian. Ye're my life, mi dhu. Mine forever, through eternity."
Ian smiled at the thought, then moved away from Ky. "We've got to hurry, love. Himself will be doing roll call soon. We canna be late." He stood and headed for the tree not far from the little hole they'd slept and loved in, feeling Ky's eyes on him the whole way.
Jim opened his eyes, startled, looking around. What the hell was that? Had he been dreaming, or imagining it? His body had certainly thought it was real, and reacted accordingly; he was hard and aching, with an ache in his heart as well at the tenderness he'd seen between the two men. He glanced across the tiny room and was startled to note that it had been only an hour or so since he'd closed his eyes--it seemed as though much more time had passed. Simon was sitting across from him, an open magazine on his lap, eyes closed tightly. Jim sighed. It had been a long couple of months for both of them. For all of them. He opened up his hearing and concentrated, listening for Blair's heartbeat. He thought he heard it, swooshing reassuringly, if oddly--probably the anesthesia.
Suddenly filled with nervous energy, Jim bounded from the chair and began pacing. Five steps to the right, turn; five steps back, turn again. He moved back and forth, listening as best he could for the reassuring sound of his Guide's heart, and puzzling over the dream--or whatever--he'd had. Those men were hauntingly familiar--especially the one called Ky. For some reason, Ky reminded him a lot of Blair. Not physically--Ky was even bigger than he was. No, it was the inner-self...the same calm, quiet...*ancient*...spirit that he knew today. Today? Didn't he mean now? Or just at all? Jim shook his head and sat back down. He'd try napping again. They still had about three hours to go.
"Ky! No!" He charged the soldier, now standing over his friend, who was kneeling and clutching his stomach. "Ye murderin' bastard--" He knocked the soldier to the ground, pulled his head back by his hair and drew his dirk across the soldier's throat. The soldier was dead before his head hit the ground. Ian turned around and knelt beside the wounded man. "Oh, god, Ky..." He clutched his friend around the shoulders. "How bad is it, mo cridh?"
"Bad," Ky gasped out. "I dinna think I can walk, Ian." He brought his hands away from his stomach, and Ian's mouth gaped in disbelief at the blood he saw there. So much of it. Ian could feel Ky's trembling in his protective embrace.
"We need to get awa' from here. I hae to lay ye down to look at ye." He stood up and looked around. "There's a small hollow just a bit away, but I'm goin' to need yer help, Ky--I canna carry ye alone, ye're too big. Can ye help me?"
Ky groaned as Ian helped him shift into a standing position. "I'll...try...ahhhhhh." He ended the short reply with a hiss when Ian brushed his hand against the wound. "Christ, man! Dinna touch it!"
"Och, sorry--I need to bind ye up, though, Ky. Ye're bleedin' something fierce."
"Aye--but we havena got time. Let's get goin'. I'll do for now." Ky wobbled, and Ian put the larger man's arm over his shoulders, supporting his weight, holding him up with an arm around his waist. They managed maybe a dozen steps or so before Ky's legs gave out, and they both tumbled to the ground. Ian watched Ky curl into a fetal position, as if trying to block out the pain.
"Ky? Hold on, mo cridh. I just have to think..." Ian broke off, looking around at the battle and carnage surrounding them.
"Ian." Ky's voice, tense with pain, broke into his thoughts. "It's no use, mi dhu, I'm dyin'. Gie up, man, and get yerself gone from here."
"No! I'm no goin' to leave ye alone, Ky." He grabbed Ky under the arms and began dragging him. How could Ky think he'd just go and leave him? Ky hissed with the pain but made no other sounds. He dragged him over to the tree he'd seen and into the hollow where they were slightly sheltered. Ian looked down when Ky touched his arm and saw the pain reflected in the brilliant green eyes. He gazed into those eyes, seeing the silent entreaty there.
"Ian. Listen to me, mi dhu. I'm dyin'--there's nothing goin' to save me now. Ye need to leave. Don't let them catch ye." Ky stumbled over the words, his breath coming in little gasps now.
Ian swallowed, trying to hold back a sob. He'd be brave for his lover, or die himself for trying. "Ye're no dyin', mo cridh. Ye can't die. What in hell will I do wi'out ye? I love ye, Ky...dinna leave me, please!" Ian couldn't hold the sobs in any longer, and bent his head to the wounded man's chest, crying against him.
Ky brought his arms up around the slighter man and held him lightly. Ian could feel the gentle fingertips stroking his hair, and heard the softly murmured words, "Shhh...dinna fash, love. Ye'll manage without me. It wasna meant for us to be together in this life. We hae to accept that."
He brought his head up to look at Ky, grey eyes cloudy with tears. "What d'ye mean, 'no meant for us to be together in this life'? What other is there?"
Ky shook his head. "I love ye, mi dhu. I'll love ye forever--ye're my heart, soul, breath and life."
Tears flooded his eyes again and he snuffled, trying to bring it under control. Ky's voice sounded noticeably weaker now, and his skin under Ian's hands felt cold and clammy. Ky was dying...it was just a matter of minutes now. Ian bent his head to Ky's and gently kissed him. "An' I love ye, Kythe Cameron MacKenzie. Ye've only been my lover for a few months, but they were the best months of my life. And the years ye've been my friend..." he broke off, determined not to cry again.
Ian shifted them around, so that Ky's head and shoulders lay in his lap, and he could hold him a little easier. Ky's breathing was becoming more labored and irregular, and there were pauses now and again between breaths where there'd not been before. His lips were beginning to take on a bluish tinge, and under his hand the beating heart that was so dear to him began to falter.
Ian held him for what seemed like hours, although he knew realistically it wasn't that long. When he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could almost imagine that they'd just made love and he was simply holding Ky, waiting for sleep to claim them like so many times before. Ian choked back a quiet sob, not wanting to disturb his lover. There would be plenty of time to cry later; this would be his last chance to hold Ky, quietly loving him.
Ky shifted minutely, and a faint groan fell from his lips. Ian watched his mouth open, and leaned in closer to hear the weak voice.
"I love ye, Ian Patrick MacKenzie. Now, forever, for always. We'll be together again...We're meant to be. I promise ye, mi dhu--I'll forever watch for ye, and I will find ye again, no matter how many years or lifetimes it takes."
"Oh, god, Ky...please...I canna bear it...dinna leave me...take me wi' ye..." Ian could feel the wave of pain building in his chest; it was as if someone was cutting his heart out.
"Ye're no meant to go yet, Ian. I hae to do this alone--as ye're meant to go on your journey alone. Now kiss me again, mi dhu...send me on my way wi' the taste of ye on my lips."
Ian complied, bending to kiss Ky, his tears mingling with the kiss, wetting their lips. He pulled away from Ky to find the other man staring sightlessly up at the sky, the life gone from his body.
He stared for a long moment, just looking at Ky's lifeless body. Sobs racked him then, great heart-wrenching sobs that spoke of deep grief. He gathered Ky to his chest and sat there, rocking back and forth, mindless of the carnage around him...
Jim's eyes flew open with a gasp and a half-stifled cry, startling Simon who'd been dozing.
"Jim? You okay, man?"
Jim shook his head, then answered, "Yeah, I guess so. Weird dream though..." *Weird* didn't even *begin* to describe it! "Guess I'm just too wired to sleep well. I'm gonna go walk around for a few minutes."
Simon nodded, and the detective left the room, hearing behind him the sounds of his captain settling back into his nap.
'What the *hell* was that? Has Blair's past lives shit been fermenting in my brain, or what? It felt so *real* though...I was there. That was me holding Ky, watching him die, feeling the pain. Oh, god, that was me holding *Blair*, watching him die.' Jim jerked to a stop, and raised his hands in front of his face. He'd washed them--several times--since arriving at the hospital, but in his mind's eye he could see another man, smaller than he, hands covered in blood from a lover's stomach wound--*just like the one Blair had now*. Made by the same weapon.
Ellison shuddered and leaned against the wall for support as his knees weakened, threatening to spill him to the floor.
As he stood there shaking, scared to death of the implications of that dream and those thoughts, more images flashed in front of his eyes. They moved at rapid-fire speed--too fast to really comprehend as more than pictures--but enough to glean an understanding of sorts. He saw a tall, golden man struggling in the grasp of soldiers, watching another man--this one younger--gasp in pain as a sword was driven into his belly. Another image of rolling around in the wet grass of a long-since gone glade, trees blowing gently in the spring breeze; that same young man straddling him--him?--and bending to kiss him. More images of Civil War uniforms and a young man falling in front of him as he stabbed the bayonet into him from behind. The fallen man bore the face of the one he loved, and he sank to his knees crying because he'd never said it, and now his friend was dying...
And Jim Ellison sank to his knees, there in the Cascade Mercy Hospital, crying for the men that he, as other men in other lives, had loved and lost.
Simon found him sitting on a bench in the hallway, thirty feet from the waiting room, dried tear tracks evident on his face.
He allowed himself to be tugged to his feet and escorted back to the waiting room where Simon sat him down.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
Jim shook his head. He didn't even truly understand it himself. How would he explain it to anyone else? There did seem to be one important thing though, he knew it in the depths of his soul and it was necessary that he say it. "I love him, Simon."
"Who? Sandburg?" Bank's face was blank with shock, his voice carefully controlled.
"Yes."
"Are you sure of what you're saying, Jim? Do you *know* what you're saying?"
The detective raised a hand to wipe at his eyes. They hurt now from crying. "Yes, I know what I'm saying. Believe me, it's not easy." He paused, then added softly, too low for Simon to hear, "I should know."
Simon sat stiffly next to him and Jim shook his head inwardly. This would likely get harder before it got easier, but he had to do it. That was why they'd been parted so many times before; he'd been unable to admit--to anyone other than his lover-that he loved him.
Too much had passed between Jim Ellison and Simon Banks for the older man to pass judgment on his friend, and Jim sagged with relief when he felt Simon's hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.
"Thank you," Jim said softly.
"Want to talk about it?"
"I don't think I can, coherently, Simon. There's so much jumbled in my mind right now, and over everything is a fear for...Blair. Can I have a raincheck?"
"Anytime, Jim." The bigger man stood and stretched before continuing, "I need to eat something. Want to come with me to the cafeteria?"
Jim shook his head. "I need to stay here."
"Want me to bring you back something?"
"No, thanks."
"Jim--you can't shut down."
"I'm not shutting down; merely waiting. When Blair's out of surgery and safe, then I'll go home and clean up, eat, and probably pass out from exhaustion. Not until then."
Simon sighed. "No arguing with you when you're in this frame of mind, is there?"
"No, sir."
"Fine. I'll be back in a little while."
Jim nodded and shifted, trying to get comfortable in the hard chairs. Whoever had planned these did their job well. Now, instead of just being scared, nervous, upset, whatever, you could do it *and* be uncomfortable at the same time. What a genius.
He leaned back in his chair and began counting the dots on the ceiling. There was no way his brain was going to let him rest now; he was definitely on adrenaline overdrive.
"Detective?"
Jim jumped at the sound of the voice. "Yes?"
"My name is Paulette Sommers. Dr. Chou asked me to let you know that Mr. Sandburg is in recovery now, and he'd like a word with you."
"Where?"
"He'll be along in a moment--he needed to clean up first."
"How's Blair?"
The nurse smiled gently at him. "Dr. Chou will give you a better idea, but he came through surgery just fine. You'll probably be able to see him in an hour or so."
"Thank you, Ms. Sommers."
She smiled again. "The doctor will be here shortly, Detective."
The doctor had told him Blair came through the surgery with no complications. The only reason it had taken so long was all the tiny bleeders they had to seal off. Jim had nodded, listening to the doctor with one half of his brain and tracking Blair's heartbeat with the other.
They allowed him into the private room immediately after Blair left Recovery. Jim shook his head, heart beating double-time, to see his friend...his love...lying there so pale and still. Regardless of what the doctor told him Blair did *not* look like he was doing well. Only the reassuring beat of his heart and the regular sounds of respiration kept him anchored.
"I understand now," he began in a quiet voice, loathe to disturb his friend. "I know what you were trying to tell me that night...and I'm sorry I wasn't more open to it, then." Jim looked at Blair, eyes still closed, only the gentle rise and fall of his chest to give any outward signs he was still alive.
"Get well, Chief. You and I are meant to be together--I can see that now. *Please*, baby, get well..."
Jim rested his elbows on his knees and placed his head in his hands. His mind was numb now from the influx of information and emotion, not the mention all the happenings earlier in the day. He felt like he was seeing himself from outward in and seemed changed, somehow.
Shifting slightly in the chair he rested his head more solidly in his hands and offered up a silent prayer to whomever may be listening, thanking them for giving them--him--another chance.
He hurt. His body felt like giant fire-ants had crawled inside and were consuming him piece by piece. Maybe if he turned onto his side they would leave, and leave him alone. Slowly, painfully, he began to force muscles to flex...
"Uhhhhh!" The groan was wrenched out of him, and he hadn't even moved, hardly.
"Blair?"
"J-" Blair stopped, and tried to wet his dry lips with an equally dry tongue. Jim saw the problem right away and brought a cup of water--with a straw--up to his mouth. He sipped, then tried again. "J...Jim."
"Hey, partner." The big man reached for Blair's hand and squeezed gently, taking care to avoid the IV that was taped to Blair's hand. "How you feelin', Chief?"
"Like hell," came the raspy whisper. "Nastiest taste in my mouth..."
"Here, have some more water. That's the residual from the anesthesia. Dr. Chou told me you might have that."
"Who?"
"Your surgeon, remember?"
Blair shook his head. "S'all kinda blurry."
"That's okay. You need to sleep, Blair." Jim smoothed the curls back from Blair's face, stroking his fingers gently through them.
"Need to talk." The smoky-blues were drooping, and Jim smiled.
"Later, when you're more awake. You've only been out of recovery for an hour or so--give yourself some time, okay?"
"You'll be here?"
"Just try and get rid of me," the detective promised. He leaned over and whispered in Blair's ear, "I love you, too, Blair Sandburg."
Blair's eyes widened briefly, and he smiled. Squeezing the hand that still held his, he fell back asleep pain temporarily forgotten.
Wednesday afternoon, 5/7
The pain was better today. 'Of course,' Blair reflected, '*better* was relative. Better than yesterday, but a long way from tolerable.' He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long he could stand to stay here.
His doctor had been in this morning, and after getting a good look at the guy, he vaguely remembered him from yesterday. He'd been lucky, the doctor said, that the knife hadn't pierced any organs--or worse, caught a major artery. As it was they'd had to transfuse almost three pints of blood--almost a third of what a body holds--before all the bleeding had been stopped.
Five to seven days, Dr. Chou had promised. Then he'd be well enough to go home where he could finish his recovery without being woken up in the middle of the night for any number of stupid reasons. No more IVs, no more catheters, hopefully no more pain, although he wasn't that unrealistic. He'd settle for less pain. Blair shifted slightly, groaning as quietly as he could manage when the pain knifed through him, so as not to wake the man sleeping in the chair next to him.
"Blair? What's wrong, Chief?" a sleepy voice near his elbow queried.
Damn! He thought he'd been quiet.
"Nothing, Jim. Just trying to get comfortable."
"Do you need a nurse? Pain meds?" his Sentinel got out of the chair, looked to be heading toward the door.
"No, and no. Some water, maybe?" Blair smiled hopefully, and Jim returned the smile.
"Sure thing. Hang on a second." Jim disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a cup of water.
Blair accepted it gratefully, and leaned back onto the pillows after drinking, drained just by that small act. He rolled his head to look at Jim, who sat back down in the chair next to him.
"You don't have to stay, you know," he offered, giving Jim the option to go home if he wanted.
"I don't want to leave. You've been left too many times."
Blair arched an eyebrow at that, then tensed as a wave of pain rolled over him. He relaxed slowly as it diminished then subsided, aware that at some point he'd grabbed for Jim's hand and held on. After a brief moment of consideration, Sandburg adjusted his self-medicating device and gave himself more of the pain-killer. Then he turned back to face Jim.
"Do you remember what you told me yesterday," he asked in a pain-laden voice that was only a notch above a whisper.
Jim nodded. "Do you want me to say it again?"
"As many times as you can..."
"I love you."
Blair rolled his head again, this time to stare at the ceiling. Jim could see tears glinting in his eyes, but from the pain of the wound, or emotions, he wasn't sure.
A raspy voice began, "Do you know...I've been in love with you for so long I don't even remember a time anymore when I didn't love you? I wanted to reach out and touch you...hold you...waking up the other morning in your arms was like a dream come true for me."
The tears were sliding down Blair's face now, and Jim reached with a finger to gently wipe them away. He brought one up to his lips and tasted the bittersweet-salt flavor of pain, sadness and love. Something grabbed at him inside, and he leaned over to gently kiss Blair, to taste him and take some of the pain away.
"I love you, Blair. I always have, and I always will. You're a part of me...I need you to make me whole." He whispered the words to his Guide; the man who'd brought him back from the brink of insanity more than once, who'd taught him how to control that which caused the insanity, who'd given of himself so completely.
"You're mine," Blair whispered, his lips brushing against Jim's head, which was now resting lightly on his chest.
"Yes," Jim whispered back, before pulling away. He gazed fondly at Blair for a moment, saying, "You need to rest, Chief. The doctor said you get food for dinner, well, broth anyway...you need to be rested for it. Get some sleep, okay? We've got plenty of time...we'll talk more when you're up to it."
Blair nodded sleepily; his medication was kicking in again. The edges around his vision were getting wavy and shimmery, and Blair smiled at this. Morphine. He'd have to be careful not to get too used to it.
Friday, 5/9
Blair channel-surfed through the TV stations, impatiently watching the clock. It was 4:35 p.m. now, and Jim would be here shortly--assuming he got to leave the station right at 4:30. He was hoping they'd be able to talk today--they certainly hadn't had much of a chance so far. 'Not that I was really up to it,' he conceded to himself. The doctor had only just this morning let him out of bed--and that hurt like a sonofabitch when the staff made him get up and walk around.
Of course, that was *after* the pain inflicted when the catheter was removed.
Sandburg sighed and looked at the clock again. 4:38 p.m. "Damn."
"Damn what?" came a very familiar and much loved voice.
"Jarvis! Michael!" Blair waved them into the room. "God, it's great to see you guys." He shifted himself gingerly, moving upward in the bed, grimacing as the staples across his stomach pulled and the newly healing tissues stretched.
"God, Blair...don't hurt yourself on our account. Stay put," Jarvis moved to help his friend.
"Nah...OW!...Ahh..." Blair relaxed and exhaled as the pain moved through him. His fingers were white where they clenched the rails of the bed, and Jarvis looked at him in concern. Blair shook his head. "Gimme a...minute...whew..." He smiled shakily at his friends. "I'm still a little sore," he admitted sheepishly.
"No, really?" Jarvis shook his head. "Bear--you had major surgery three days ago. Cool it, okay?"
Blair smiled. "Sit down, guys. Michael, you can bring me up to date on the exhibit; Jarvis, I've got some really cool stuff to tell you."
Michael shook his head somberly. "The exhibit's been pushed back until you're on your feet, Blair. Didn't Dr. Hathaway tell you?"
The anthropologist frowned. He'd thought that was a drug-and-pain induced dream. "I guess he was in Wednesday morning--I sort of remember, like in a fog. Actually I *was* in a fog, but it was morphine-induced." Blair grinned, "this place would be cool if I was a junkie." He sobered then. "I don't remember anything he said, Michael. Fill me in?"
The younger man nodded and began to give Blair the details. That kept him sufficiently occupied so Blair forgot to watch the clock, wondering where Jim was.
Ellison cursed as he wove through traffic, going as quickly as rush-hour would allow. Damn Simon anyway, keeping him late like that. The only time he and Blair had right now was evening visiting hours, although he had to admit that the hospital staff had been pretty cool about letting him stay there, just sitting, watching while Blair slept.
He'd been really looking forward to today, getting there in time to do some serious talking. Blair'd been pretty out of it all day Wednesday and most of yesterday. When he'd peeked in early this morning on the way to work the nurse told him that the doctor planned to get him out of bed this morning. Jim smiled, wondering how that had gone.
'Shit, it's only a fifteen minute drive. I've been here for over twenty now.' And he'd left the station thirty minutes late on top of that. Dammit! Fuck it, he was gonna do things the old- fashioned way. That thought in mind, Ellison turned on his emergency siren and light.
"...and we were *married*, if you can believe it," Blair finished, smiling at the dark-haired man whose back was to the door. "Jim!"
Jim smiled at Blair, and strode into the room. "Hey, Chief. How'd today go?" He nodded a greeting to the two men sitting next to Blair's bed, recognizing Michael Patterson.
"They made me walk." Blair's face reflected the pain of *that* excursion, then he smiled again. "I missed you," he said, very softly, as Jim approached the bed.
"I missed you, too," Jim said, not so softly. He leaned down and gave Blair a quick kiss. "You look better today."
"I feel better. I think." He watched Jim hook the other chair with his ankle, and sit next to him. A large hand was offered, and Blair took it, wondering, 'What's up with this? I never expected a declaration, much less a public one.' He turned back to Jim and said, "You remember Michael, right? This is his partner--and a good friend of mine--Jarvis Deacon."
"Jim Ellison," the detective said, leaning over Blair slightly to offer his hand to Jarvis.
"Nice to meet you face-to-face, Detective." Jarvis smiled, and Jim returned it.
"Call me Jim. Have you known Blair for long?"
Blair grinned at him, "Jarv and I had freshman chem together, Jim. We've been terrorizing Rainier since."
"Poor university," the dark-haired man sympathized. Jim grinned, then recalled the conversation he heard as he was entering.
"Who were you married to, Chief?" the big man frowned trying to recall if Blair had ever said anything in the past about being married.
Blair flushed slightly and shook his head. "It's a long story, Jim, and I'll tell you another time. I'm not married now, so don't worry."
Jim raised an eyebrow, but didn't pursue it. He caught Jarvis giving him a speculative look, and wondered about it, but the nurse came in at that moment.
"Blair, we're going to be bringing dinner trays by again, but you need to get up and move around again some more first. The doctor left orders for us to have you up every four hours, and it's time."
"Great." Blair sighed. "Just what I like to spice up dinner-a good dose of pain."
Jarvis stood up, and Michael quickly followed. "This is our cue to leave. Just wanted to stop and see how you were doing, Bear, 'cause Michael came home with all sorts of stories about the show down in the GEH."
Sandburg grimaced. "Then you've heard more than me, Jarv. I've been so doped up the last couple of days that Jim hasn't hardly been able to talk to me. Thanks for comin' by though."
"Sure thing, kiddo. See ya round, okay? And take it easy for a while. Detective, it was nice to meet you."
Jim smiled. 'Bear'? He couldn't wait to hear the story behind this. "You too, Jarvis. Michael." They shook hands again, and the other two men left, holding hands as they walked out the room.
"I gotta pee," Blair said as he began the laborious job of maneuvering up and out of bed.
"Want me to get the nurse?"
"Nah--if you can help me get on my feet I can take it from there."
"So they took the..." Jim's voice trailed off, and he glanced at Blair, gentle humor glinting in his eyes.
"The catheter." Blair sighed deeply. "Yeah, took it out this morning." He shuddered at the memory. "I hope you *never* have to experience that, man. It's enough to totally kill your sex drive for a while, let me tell you."
"Been there, done that, Chief."
"Really?"
Jim nodded, sympathy reflected in his voice, "It hurts like hell, I know. Especially the first few times you go. Don't worry though--another day or so and you won't even remember."
"I hope you're right. The nurse was telling me about this guy she had as a patient once who pulled it out when he was having a seizure." Blair shuddered. "Ouch." He took a deep breath then. "Ready?"
Jim nodded. "What do I need to do?"
"Just let me brace against you. Ohhhh....shit....ah, mmmmmmm..." Blair very carefully levered himself off the bed, using Jim's arms to support him. He sighed when his feet touched the ground. "Finally." He leaned against Jim, face white and sweaty.
"You okay?" Jim could hear the alarm in his voice, and was dimly aware of Blair's voice over the pounding heartbeat he heard.
"Uh-huh. Just takes me a minute, y'know?"
Jim let Blair hold on to his arm as he shuffled to the bathroom, then stood just outside, ready to assist if necessary. After the younger man finished, they moved out into the corridor and began the arduous journey around the nurses' station.
Ellison was aware of the different noises Blair made under his breath as they made their circuit--breathy, low-pitched whimpers and whispers of pain. Twice they had to stop to let Blair catch his breath, and he watched his partner with concerned eyes.
"Sure you're okay?"
"I guess so, man. I like to think they wouldn't make me do this if I wasn't ready to do it."
Jim snorted, then led Sandburg back to his room. As they settled him into bed, he asked casually, "So what's with the 'Bear' name?"
Blair blushed and shrugged carefully. "Just a nickname Jarvis gave me. Said I reminded him of a teddy bear."
"Were you two lovers?"
Blair sighed. "Man, you don't pull any punches, do you? Yeah, we were, six years ago. Well, actually, it's been six years *since* we were together." He smiled at the nurse who brought in the dinner tray, then frowned at the dinner itself. "I thought I got *food* today."
She smiled at him. "That is food, Blair. Eat up!"
He snorted and made a face, poking at the plate. "What *is* it?"
Jim wandered over and peered down. "Beats me. Taste it."
"You taste it--you can tell better than I can."
Jim arched a brow, then stuck a finger into the first mound. "Tapioca pudding." He tested each one cautiously. "Mashed potatoes and brown gravy, and applesauce. That one's jello," he pointed at the reddish mass in a separate bowl.
"Thanks, Jim. I figured *that* one myself." Blair shook his head. "Man, could you bring me in a sandwich tomorrow, or something? This is gonna kill me. Actually, a salad..."
"You can't have any roughage for a few more days, Blair. There's a reason you're eating soft foods, remember?" Jim pointed at Blair's abdomen. "You're recovering from a stab wound in the gut, not to mention nearly six hours worth of surgery..." He stopped at the expression on Blair's face. "Aw, hell, Blair. I'll bring you a sandwich, okay? But *no* salads, until the doctor okays it. Got it?"
Blair nodded, and started eating his pudding. "Thanks, man."
They sat in silence for awhile; Blair eating his dinner, and Jim watching Blair. The nurse came back to collect the dinner tray, check the IV lines, and check the wrapping on Blair's incisions. Jim took a good look at the wound this time, and decided it definitely looked better. Definitely healing.
"So, you want to tell me about the marriage thing, or are you going to leave me guessing?" Jim finally broke the comfortable silence.
Blair gave him an indefinable look. "It really is a long story, Jim."
"I still want to hear it, Chief." He picked up Blair's hand and squeezed gently. "I love you, you know. You can tell me anything--that won't change."
"I love you too, Jim. But given your reaction to the last time I brought this up--" He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Well, hell. You'll either believe me or you won't."
Jim settled into his chair next to Blair, leaving their fingers entwined. "Sounds pretty serious."
"Yeah. Um...those dreams I was having. Well, Jarvis referred me to a hypnotherapist..."
Blair talked for an hour, recounting the different hypnosis sessions, and the past lives he'd lived--including the ones with Jim. He answered Jim's questions as best he could, and filled in blanks from his memories with his own hypotheses; finally coming to a halt because he had to use the bathroom again.
"The only thing I'm not sure of," Blair grunted with the effort of swinging his legs around to the side of the bed, "is why they--we--kept getting separated. Every time, Jim."
Jim worked on autopilot helping Blair get out of bed and to the bathroom, his mind awhirl the entire time. 'Ian and Ky--my god, I lived that over, too. It was *me* holding Ky--holding Blair--as he died.'
"Jim?" A gentle hand touched his arm, and Jim focused on Blair, emerging from the bathroom, a questioning look on his face. "You all right, big guy?"
"Because I couldn't tell anyone."
"What?" Blair's forehead wrinkled with concentration trying to figure out what Jim meant.
"We were separated in past lives because I couldn't bring myself to let anyone else know we were lovers. For whatever reasons, no matter how valid--I had to learn that it's okay to love you."
Blair looked into Jim's eyes and saw his own emotions reflected there. Love, trust, desire: all of them swirled into one big package. "How do you know?" he whispered, drawn by those eyes, moving closer.
"Because I saw it too." Jim saw Blair sway, and gently brought him into the circle of his arms, supporting him. "I thought I was asleep; hell, I might have been, I don't know. But I had this dream--two, actually--of two men named Ian and Ky. And I had another dream a few nights ago--the night we...the night we first laid together. That one wasn't coherent at all...more like precognition. I saw you in the dream, holding your hands to your stomach, bleeding...pleading with me. But I couldn't hear you...and I fell on my knees begging--someone--to let you live..."
Blair raised a hand up to touch the moisture tracks on Jim's face, then snuggled as close to him as the healing wound and IV pole would allow, offering comfort by his presence.
Jim wiped his face with one hand, then wrapped both arms around Blair again. "We need to get you back into bed, Chief. You're too weak to be up."
"Tell that to the dragons outside," the younger man joked, trying to lighten the mood just a little.
Ellison helped his partner back into bed, and sighed when Blair pressed the call button for the nurse. He knew Blair was hurting; he'd felt the spasms rippling through his body as he held him. The doctor had taken him off the self-medicating device this morning, deeming him healed enough to go on a scheduled regimen of painkillers, should they be necessary. Apparently Blair thought they were now.
He waited until the nurse had brought in a shot of Percocet and departed, then scooted as close to Blair as he could without climbing into bed with him. Blair sighed when he began combing his fingers through the long, silky curls.
"You're beautiful, you know that?"
Blair smiled drowsily. "Nah--no one's ever told me I was beautiful. Gorgeous, maybe."
Jim smiled along with him, still twining pieces of hair through his fingers. "I told Simon that I'm in love with you."
*That* brought those incredible eyes wide open. "What'd you do that for?"
"That's the condition, Blair. I have to be able to tell people who it is I love. I mean, it's not like I have to climb up the Needle and announce it on a PA or anything--but others beside you and me need to know. So I told Simon."
"Whoa, man. Too heavy." Blair leaned back on his pillow, eyes closed. "You're trippin' me out here, Jim. Tell me I imagined what you just said."
"Nope, can't do that. I told him."
"Oh, god, Jim...oh, my god..."
"Hey, baby, relax. Simon's okay with it. A little freaked out maybe, but okay." Jim leaned in closer and snagged Blair's eyes with his own. "I'm not letting you go this time. *Nothing* is getting in the way, understand?"
"I'm beginning to," Blair replied breathlessly.
Jim stared at him a minute longer, then lowered his head to kiss Blair, a long, gentle kiss that spoke more of love than passion--although that smoldered there as well.
When they drew apart both men's eyes were shining with emotion. "I love you," Jim whispered as he gently kissed Blair's mouth again, then his cheeks and eyes.
"I've never stopped loving you," Blair stated, running his fingers across Jim's face. "I can't wait until I'm out of this damned hospital, and home...where I can show you how much I love you."
"Oh, baby..." Jim groaned with the visual that promised, and reluctantly pulled away. "I better go before things get too out of hand. You look tired, sweetheart."
"It's the meds they gave me. And I don't know how out of hand things would get...I was kind of hoping to take things *in* hand." He grinned impishly at Jim, eyes twinkling as he lightened the intensity of the moment. It had the desired effect; Jim groaned, loudly.
"You're a sick man, Blair Sandburg."
"I..." Blair paused to yawn. "...try. Sorry, Jim."
"S'okay, partner. I'm gonna go--you get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"
"I'm holding you to that, man. I need someone to taste breakfast for me."
Jim shook his head then leaned in for another kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow, Chief."
"Have a good night."
"It's lonely without you there," Jim stood up and moved from the bed.
"Could be worse, Jim...you could be here where you get woken up in the middle of the night to take a pill you didn't ask for."
Jim chuckled. "'Night, Sandburg."
"'Night, Jim."
Chapter 10
Monday, 5/12
"No stairs, no heavy lifting, no strenuous activity--and that includes sex, Mr. Sandburg--and go easy on the roughage in your diet for another week." Dr. Chou closed the medical chart and cast a stern glance at Blair and Jim, cocking an eyebrow after a moment when neither said anything. "No questions?"
"Uh...how long on the restrictions?"
Blair fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he spoke, and Jim had to bite his lip to hide the smile. 'Gosh, babe, which one do you really care about?'
"At least a week--although as far as the lifting goes, nothing heavier than a can of soup for the next week; nothing over ten pounds for another week after that, at least. Your abdominals take a while to heal, Mr. Sandburg--you don't want to rip open what we worked so hard to repair."
"Right. And the no sex?"
Jim's head snapped up, and he felt a sudden increase in the air temperature around his Guide. Blair was blushing.
"Like I said--at least a week." Dr. Chou fixed both of them with his gaze. "And then, take it easy." The doctor looked at both of them, and sighed. "I don't usually involve myself in my patients' sex lives, gentlemen, but for the first few days *after* the restriction period, try to use the side-by-side, or 'spoon' position. It puts less strain on the stomach muscles."
Jim shifted slightly, a little uncomfortable with such frankness from someone he didn't know. "Thanks, Doc," he managed in an almost normal tone.
A sound like a choked cough caught his attention, and Jim shot a look at Blair, found his partner smiling.
"Is that it? Can I go now?" The eagerness in Blair's voice was unmistakable and Jim smiled himself in response.
"Yes. I've signed you out, and you've signed the paperwork. Detective, do you have the prescriptions?"
Jim patted his pocket. "Right here."
"All set, Mr. Sandburg."
"Thanks!" Blair shifted to move off the bed, and Jim pulled the wheelchair over. "Aw, c'mon, Jim..."
"Sorry, Chief. I don't make the rules." He leaned down and kissed Blair's ear and whispered, "Take it easy, okay? You'll be out of here in a minute."
Blair nodded reluctantly, and settled into the chair.
A nurses' aide followed them to the truck to retrieve the wheelchair, and then they were on their own. Jim helped Blair into the cab, wondering how in the hell he was going to get his partner up three flights of stairs when Blair wasn't supposed to *do* stairs?
"No way, man. You're *not* going to carry me up three flights! You'll get a hernia or something and we'd be right back there, hanging around the emergency room."
"Got any other ideas, Sandburg? If you do, I'd love to hear them." He had to admit to having entertained the idea of picking Blair up a time or two, but that fantasy usually entailed Blair's legs wrapped around his waist, and him slamming the smaller man up against the wall before fucking his brains out. Out-and-out carrying him--150 pounds of unwilling, resisting deadweight-up three flights? Not high on his "want to do" list.
"Man...I don't know. Can I just sleep in the truck?" Blair's eyes looked hopeful and tired and pain-filled, all at once.
"For the next week? I don't think so, Chief."
"Damn."
"Yeah." Jim frowned, then looked at Blair. "Let's go. The longer we take to do this, the longer before we're home." He moved toward his Guide.
Blair sighed resignedly and tried to help by putting his arms around Jim's neck. He groaned when Jim shifted him to pick him up, and the older man immediately stilled.
"I'm sorry, babe."
"S'not your fault, man. It just hurts. C'mon, lover, you said it yourself--we get going, we get home."
This time he held his breath and stifled the small moan of pain as Jim swung him as carefully as he could up into his arms.
It took them fifteen minutes to get up the stairs. Jim had to stop a couple of times to let Blair rest, since the jostling was hard for his still-healing abdomen to handle. He was white and gasping by the time they reached the door to the loft. Jim carried him in and deposited him carefully on the couch.
"Lie down," he commanded when Blair moved to sit up.
"I don't want to lay here."
"Blair--just because they let you come home doesn't mean you're well. It only means you don't require hospitalization any longer."
"I've just spent the last week in bed, flat on my back, practically. I want to get up."
"And do *what*? Huh? Kill yourself? If that's the case then why did I just haul your ass up three flights of stairs? I could have saved myself the trouble and let you walk 'em yourself! Jesus, Blair." Jim watched the surprise and shock run across the younger man's face, a little surprised himself with his outburst. He ran a hand over his hair and sighed with frustration and resignation. "I'm sorry, Chief." He sat down on the couch next to his partner and opened his arms.
Blair hesitated for just a second before leaning into the embrace. "I'm sorry too, Jim. I'm just so tired of doing...nothing. And being *tired* from doing nothing. I'm starting to feel like I'll never have my strength back."
"Yeah you will. It's only been a week since the surgery; give yourself a break, okay?" Jim began twining strands of Blair's hair around his fingers until he was gently rubbing the scalp, his fingers buried deeply in silky curls.
"Mmmm...that's nice," Blair closed his eyes, practically purring. He groaned and opened his eyes when Jim moved him, shifting him into a flat position. "Don't stop...Jim..."
Ellison pointed a finger at him. "Uh-uh, no way. You can flash those eyes at me all you want, buddy, but you're staying on the couch for now."
"Fine. Won't you stay with me, at least?"
"I gotta get your stuff out of the truck, and run down to the station to sign out. *Then* I'll come and sit with you, okay?"
"Okay." Blair snuck a look at Jim to see if the semi-pout was having any effect, and decided it wasn't. He yawned and closed his eyes. What a day!
"Blair." He opened them up again with a start. Jim was standing over him holding out a glass of water and a couple of pills.
"What're these?"
"Same stuff you've been taking in the hospital. Antibiotics and painkiller."
"What *kind* of painkiller?"
"Blair..." A heavy sigh of exasperation. "Percocet."
Sandburg smiled and yawned again. "Percocet, huh? Nighty-night, big guy."
Jim smiled. "Sweet dreams, babe."
He watched until Blair had swallowed the pills, then got him settled comfortably on the couch. His partner was already half asleep when Jim left to go unload the truck.
Monday afternoon, 5/12
Wherever he was, it was warm and comfortable. There was a dull ache in his stomach, but it wasn't overwhelming, and he could ignore it. And what was this? A strange, but wholly pleasurable sensation...like butterfly wings touching each part of his face, skipping from here to there and back again. He smiled, and tried to see the butterflies to catch them...
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
"Mmmm."
"Blair...c'mon, babe. You need to wake up and eat."
"Mmm-mmm. No..."
Jim leaned over the back of the couch and considered the sleeping man. The soft kisses and caresses on his face and neck obviously weren't enough--maybe it was time to call out the bigger guns. He walked around the couch and knelt on the floor next to Blair.
The butterflies morphed into something larger, something more sensuous. Warm, soft, moist...it felt like...
"Ah, Jim..."
Jim pulled his head away and watched Blair's eyes open, pupils wide and glassy; looked at the perfect mouth, lips lush and ready. He lowered his head again, and breathed, "Blair," across those lips before molding his mouth to them again.
A gentle but hungry exploration of each other's mouths. They hadn't had a chance to do this yet; hadn't had a chance to do much of anything yet. The one time they'd come together had been fast, frenzied, *needy*. Now they had time. They could explore the sweetness, combine the sex with love.
"Oh, man," Blair muttered when Jim finally released him. He touched a finger to his lips--they felt all swollen and tingly...much like other parts of his body.
"You need to get up for a little while, move around, eat something." Jim sat back on his heels, watching his lover process everything.
"You were just telling me I needed to rest. Pick a side and stick with it, big guy."
"That was five hours ago, Chief." Jim watched Sandburg's eyes open wide in surprise.
"No way."
"Believe it, babe. You sacked out like nothing I've ever seen before. I was gone for almost two of those; figured you'd be awake by the time I got home, but you were out like a light."
"Well that explains why I'm hungry...among other things." Blair shifted on the couch, uncomfortable, but not from his injury for a change.
"What's wrong?"
"I gotta go, man, but I think that'll be a problem for a little while."
Jim's eyes traveled down Blair's body, taking in the erection pushing out the front of his sweats. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, resolving not to let it affect him. That lasted until he opened his eyes again.
"C'mon," he stood and offered Blair a hand up off the couch. "I got dinner ready. Let's eat, and I'll fill you in on all the details of the case. Simon briefed me while I was down at the station signing out."
"What'd you sign out for?"
"I took a couple weeks of vacation time. No," Jim held up a hand to forestall any argument. "You're gonna need some help for the next few days until you can get around a little better--and I want to spend some time with you. This is...this is a whole new aspect of *us*, and I want some time to enjoy it before real life intrudes. Okay?"
Blair stared at him, eyes moist and shining. "Yeah. I love you, Jim." He wrapped his arms around Jim's waist and hugged the other man tightly.
"Love you too, babe," Jim replied hoarsely, the proximity of that warm body re-igniting his own fuse. They held that position for long moments, until Jim felt the vibration of Blair's stomach rumbling. "C'mon, let's eat." He drew the younger man over to the table and motioned for him to sit.
"So what're you feeding me?"
"Well, I know it's kind of weird, but I made some clam chowder." Jim shrugged at the question on Blair's face. "It sounded good."
"Food, period, sounds good right now. Did you make the bread too?" Blair teased as Jim set a basket of bread chunks on the table.
"No, wise-ass, I didn't. Got that from the store. Oh, here," he handed Blair more medication.
"'Oh, here'," Blair mocked as he threw the pills back and swallowed them. "Trying to turn me into a druggie?" He took a big drink of water and shuddered.
"No, I'm trying to get you well." Jim glowered at Blair, ignoring the smirk. "Shut up and eat, Sandburg."
"Yes, sir!"
"Keep it up...you'll get yours."
"Promise?"
Jim sighed. "Eventually."
They were both quiet for several moments as they contemplated *that*, then Jim refocused his attention.
"So, do you want me to fill you in on everything?"
"Yeah," Blair mumbled around a large mouthful of soup. "Mmm. S'good, Jim."
"Thanks. Okay, let's see. Sethos slipped away from us. We've sent our information on the crimes here to Interpol, but actually we don't know that he *did* anything. We've hypothesized that he was behind the break-in and vandalism at the museum, but we don't know for sure...and without anyone to confirm or deny, all we have is conjecture for that."
"He threatened to kill me," Blair reminded him.
"*I* know, and you know...but it was verbal, there were no other witnesses, and he didn't actually do anything. Anyway. We *have* learned that Boussard was a member of the cult--we've had confirmation from the Egyptian Consulate, working through the State Department here. Simon had the information sent to them when we reported the death--since it was an ambassador and his aide, of course the feds had to be involved--and they were kind enough to reciprocate." Jim's snort expressed *his* opinion about reciprocity with the State Department, but left it at that.
"Anyway," he continued, "We've managed to link Sarina to Boussard through her father--they were acquaintances when Boussard went to school, and we found some journals and letters tucked away in a box in her apartment--stuff we missed in the first search; correspondence between her and her father, talking about the cult. Seems Sarina discovered information about the cult during her studies and asked her father about it. *He* wasn't interested in it, but put her in contact with Boussard. There's correspondence between them as well." Jim paused to eat some of his soup, giving Blair a chance to take it all in.
"So Sarina was involved all along, wasn't she?" Blair pushed his bowl away, grief etched onto his face.
"Looks that way, Chief." Jim reached over and took Blair's hand. "I'm sorry. I know you liked her--she did seem like a nice kid."
"She was," Blair replied, absently. "Very enthusiastic about what she was doing. It just...hurts, y'know? That she was friendly and all...that she came on to me like she did, knowing what she was going to do." He pushed his hair out of his face. "So, what's the rest of it?"
"Well, there's not much more. Boussard knew about the exhibit, of course, because of the Ambassador, but he didn't have an in until Sarina wrote him and told him she was working on the planning committee. We have that correspondence too--courtesy of the State Department. Boussard contacted Sethos then, and told him that the cult had an active member who was on the inside and could work for them. Sethos, we've learned, is--or was--one of the high priests for the Egyptian-based sect of the cult. It was just a matter then of getting Sethos over here to get things going."
"How'd Sarina and her father come to be involved in Egyptian politics and religions?"
"Sarina's paternal grandmother is Egyptian. We wanted to question her, but found out she passed away just a few months ago."
"And Sarina's father?"
"He's been questioned, of course, but he's not actually a member of the cult--he only put Sarina in touch with Boussard." Jim watched Blair's face, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You okay, babe?"
"Yeah. So Sarina stabbing me had nothing to do with the rest of it."
It wasn't a question, but Jim answered it like it was. "No-not as far as we can tell, anyway. I think it was more emotion-motivated. I didn't know she came on to you, but just based on the way she acted around you--and the fact that her pheromones went off the scale if you were around, I figure she had a helluva crush on you, Chief."
"She did," he responded sadly. "I remember sympathizing with her situation after I turned her down, 'cause I was going through something similar." Blair got up from the table and went to sit on the couch, stretching out a little to relieve the ache that had started in his stomach.
"Yeah?"
"Over you. I was at the point where it was almost painful to be around you sometimes, but I wasn't going to jeopardize our friendship. I could only imagine your reaction if I'd come on to you--and it usually involved you throwing me out on my ass."
"Didn't happen though, did it?" Jim got up and got a beer from the fridge. "Want some more water? Tea?"
"Beer'd be nice..."
"Not while you're on narcotics, babe."
Blair sighed. "Tea, I guess. No, it didn't; in fact, you managed to surprise the *hell* out of me that night I gave you the backrub." He arched an eyebrow at Jim as the other man sat down next to him. "Is there anything from your past you'd like to share? 'Cause you sure as hell didn't come off as a totally het guy without any experience with men."
Jim took a swallow from his beer. "There've been a few in the past."
"Like how far in the past?"
"I haven't been with another guy since I got out of Vice, and that's going on five years now. And it'd been years before that." Jim shrugged. "Usually I'd wind up with another guy if we were on remote for a while--there weren't women in the Ranger units, back then, anyway--you know, kind of a 'let's relieve some mutual pressure' type of thing."
"A buddy fuck."
"Yeah, I guess so. I don't know--it was more than that I suppose, but I never had a lasting relationship with a guy, either. I generally preferred a woman, if I was given the choice, but never minded a guy."
Blair raised his eyes to meet Jim's. "And now?"
"Now, I couldn't imagine life without you, Blair. I don't *want* to imagine life without you. I knew when I saw Sarina stab you that there was never going to be anyone else for me."
Blair shifted and snuggled into Jim's side, enjoying the feel of the heavy, warm arm draped across his shoulders. "I think we're in agreement on that one, man. I can't imagine not being with you, seeing you, talking to you. That was the main reason I never said anything to you--I still got that with our just being friends, and I figured it could be enough." Blair shifted away slightly and smiled, a hot sexy smile that stirred Jim's blood to see it. "Now I know it wouldn't have been."
Jim wiggled slightly as Blair's fingers began trailing up and down his shirt front. "Sandburg..."
"Yeah?"
"Cool it. You heard the doctor--no sex."
"This isn't sex, Jim. This is love--and teasing, and...well, whatever you want it to be."
"It'll lead to sex."
"It doesn't have to."
Jim snorted. "Right. You expect me to believe that?" He corralled the fingers. "Enough, Chief. I'm in a bad enough state without you making it worse."
Blair drew away reluctantly. "You are like *no* fun, man." He got off the couch, and Jim heard the slight hiss of air against teeth as he moved.
"Where're you going?"
The younger man chuckled. "Bathroom. I had to go when I woke up, although it would've been impossible at the time, thanks to that kiss you laid on me. Better go while the goin's good, you know?"
"We are *not* doing anything tonight, Sandburg," Jim called down the hallway after him.
Blair turned and threw Jim a smoldering look over his shoulder, and Jim felt his body and his mind begin a battle for control.
"You ready to go to bed, Chief?" Jim flipped the lights off in the kitchen, then yawned. It'd been a long day, all things considered, and he hadn't had a five-hour nap like his partner.
"Bed yes, sleep no." Blair lounged on the couch, eyeing him speculatively.
Jim shook his head. "You know we can't do anything--you heard the doctor as well as I did."
"He said sex, man. He didn't say we can't have a little fun." Blair's eyes twinkled with a mischievous light, and a sexy little grin played on his lips. Jim swallowed hard.
"Define 'fun'."
"You know...kissing, cuddling, touching."
Jim leaned against the table and crossed his arms. "Can you do that and not want more?"
"Probably not, but I'll be happy with what I get," Blair replied honestly.
"I don't know, Chief. You should go on to bed, and I'll go on to bed...and we can pick this up in a week."
"What?!"
Jim nodded his chin toward the stairs. "You can't do 'em, and I don't think I should take the chance of dropping you if I don't have to. This morning we didn't have a choice; tonight we do."
"That's *not* a choice, Jim." Blair crossed his own arms over his chest. "Sleep with me?"
Jim closed his eyes against the pleading in Blair's. "Your bed's so small..." He opened them again when warm arms encircled his neck, and a solid body pressed carefully against him. 'When did Blair get up?'
"Please?" A wet tongue gently traced along his collarbone, Blair's breath cool against the moisture as he breathed the word into Jim's skin.
"Blair...you're not playing fair," he gasped, his own arms coming up of their own volition to circle the other man's waist, body drooping slightly to accommodate his shorter partner.
"I never said I would. I've wanted you for too long, Jim." Blair pressed a light kiss to the side of Jim's neck, feeling the muscles move under his lips as the other man groaned. "We've lost a week already because I was in the hospital; let's start making up the time."
"Blair..." Jim's voice shook with his effort to hang on to his control--very hard to do with Blair nibbling on his neck-- "I don't think this is a good idea. What if you hurt yourself? Pull something loose? I--mmph!"
The irritating questions were silenced when Blair pulled Jim's head downward and covered his mouth with his own. A soft warm tongue caressed those lips until Jim opened his mouth with a groan and allowed Blair inside.
When they surfaced for air sometime later, Jim discovered that his shirt was hanging open, and the top button of his jeans was undone. Blair's tee-shirt was pulled out of his sweats, and they were both breathing hard, clinging to each other with the intensity of the feelings flowing through them.
"Please," Blair whispered, his face buried in Jim's chest. "Stay with me tonight...I just want to feel you near me, and wake up with your arms around me. There'll be enough room...please, Jim?"
They stumbled into the small room, hands caressing gently, working to remove the clothing both still wore. Blair sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his pants and Jim pushed his hands away, reaching for them himself. He took extra care sliding the sweats off, then spent several minutes tenderly kissing the area now covered in steri-strips. He could feel the tensing and shifting under his lips as Blair's stomach muscles flexed, and tears sprang to his eyes as he realized how close they'd come to losing each other again.
As if he sensed Jim's mood, a gentle hand reached down to rub Jim's head, fingers gliding effortlessly across the short hair, massaging the scalp underneath. Jim kissed his way back up Blair's body, shifting onto the bed as he rose, and found his mouth again, plundering with a desperate hunger he hadn't been aware of.
Blair stretched out on the bed, drawing Jim with him to maintain the intense kiss. He pulled the larger man as close as he could manage in the limited maneuvering space, his fingers moving downward, caressing Jim's hard body.
Jim was dimly aware of Blair's hand caressing his stomach, moving steadily lower until the warm fingers drew his hard, aching organ out of his boxers. He groaned when Blair tightened his grip on him, and began to gently rock his hips in time with the strokes; at the same time, he reached for Blair.
They lost track of each other then, melding into one cohesive entity, hearts beating in time with one another, tongues gently caressing, hips undulating in a dual rhythm. Jim stopped trying to hold on to his control and allowed himself to be swept into the tidal wave of sensation that was washing over both of them. He felt his orgasm beginning, the fluids rushing toward release, the pressure both welcome and maddening. He reached with his free hand to cup and fondle Blair's balls, rolling them gently from side to side, and was greeted with a loud groan of approval. He could feel the blood pounding under Blair's skin, the steady beat of systolic and diastolic pressure now a constant roar as his lover approached his peak.
They came at nearly the same moment, hot creamy fluids erupting over them, both gasping and panting as they released the pent-up tension and passion.
Jim gathered Blair into his arms, careful of the healing wound, and cradled him close. "Sleep now, baby...I've got you..." He murmured the soft words over and over, feeling Blair's body relax into his embrace. Just before his lover drifted off, he heard him mumble, and turned his hearing up to hear.
"Told you it'd be okay..."
Jim smiled and allowed himself to be carried into sleep by the rhythm of Blair's heart beating.
Tuesday morning, 5/13
Jim woke with a start, legs tangled with Blair's. The pink hues brushing against the walls told him that it was dawn, but not much more. His Guide snuffled in his sleep and rolled over onto his side; Jim could hear the tiny hitch in his breathing as his brain registered pain from the movement, even through sleep. What had woken him up? There it was again, a strange scratching noise at the door.
He got out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb the man who needed sleep so badly, and grabbed his gun from its perch on Blair's desk. Jim crossed the living room stealthily and pulled the door open, gun held at ready.
"Michael! What are you doing here?"
The young man blanched at the gun, and Jim lowered it quickly. "I didn't mean to wake you up, Detective. I was just trying to figure out where to leave a note for Blair--" Michael held up the piece of paper. "Dr. Hathaway called me last night to give me the new opening information for the exhibit."
"He's sleeping right now, but I'll give it to him when he wakes up."
Michael nodded. "That's cool, thanks. Tell him I'll call later and give him all the details, okay?"
"No problem."
"Thanks. See ya 'round."
Jim shut the door and set the note on the table. A quick trip to the bathroom, and he headed back toward Blair's room.
The body on the small bed hadn't moved an inch, but he got in slowly, taking care not to jostle. After last night, he imagined that he could jostle all he wanted, and Blair wouldn't mind--assuming he even woke up--but he wasn't going to take that chance. The more his lover slept, the faster he would heal.
Last night. Jim felt a wide grin pulling at his face as he settled himself, spooning against Blair's back. The younger man smelled of sweat and musk and semen--both of theirs--and, more faintly, the medications he'd been taking for the last week. Underneath all of that was the scent that made up Blair, and Jim breathed it all in deeply, filling his lungs, feeling his body stirring with the memory of how those scents came to be.
Ellison sternly clamped down on his wayward thoughts, telling himself that it wouldn't be much longer until Blair was healed, and then they could indulge as often as they wanted; doing anything they wanted. Until then... He closed his eyes, and slid back into sleep.
As it happened, they slept until nearly 11:00a.m., when the phone rang and woke them up. Jim handed the phone to Blair, who'd taken longer to get out of bed, and went to make some coffee. He glanced at the clock and wondered idly if he should fix them breakfast or lunch, then decided he needed to wake up first, before he worried about eating. He listened with half an ear to Blair's end of the conversation, noting that his lover didn't say much beyond a bunch of "uh-huhs", "yeahs" and "sures".
Blair hung up the phone with a strange expression on his face, just as Jim was bringing coffee into the living room. He handed Blair the antibiotic, then questioned, "Do you think you need the painkiller?"
His partner thought for a minute. "Do we have anything else? I don't think I need the Percocet, but maybe some Tylenol, or something?"
Jim nodded. "Actually, there was a prescription for you for some Tylenol. Let me get some for you."
He returned in short order with the medication, and a big glass of milk. Blair made a face and raised an eyebrow, and Jim grinned.
"Says to take with food or milk, buddy. We're not even awake enough yet to think about food--make do with that for now, okay?"
"I hate milk, Jim."
"Deal with it, Chief."
The voice didn't allow for argument, and Blair stuck his tongue out. "You know, you're a real pain in the ass about this."
Jim grinned. "Yeah? Well, good. I want you *well* again, babe. And while I'd like to pretend it's all for altruistic reasons, I have some selfish ones too."
"Can't wait to hear about 'em," Blair grinned as he tossed the pills back.
"So what'd Michael have to say?"
"Asked me if I understood everything in the note, but wasn't really surprised when I told him I hadn't read it yet. What time did he drop it off?"
Jim shrugged. "A little after six, I think. It was daylight, but barely."
"I never heard a thing." There was wonder in Blair's voice-how could he sleep so long and so hard?
"Your body is still healing, Chief. You obviously needed the rest. So what else did he say?"
"Opening night for the exhibit is set now for Monday, May twenty-sixth. It's gonna be a big bash, too. They're inviting the Mayor, the Governor...Michael mentioned something about a couple of other state politicians, and of course the higher-ranked U personnel."
"Of course," Jim echoed faintly. 'A fucking security nightmare, that's what this'll be!' "Uh, did he mention where you fit into all of this?"
Blair threw him an annoyed look. "I'll be *fine* to go back to work next week, Jim. It's only paperwork on this end now. And since we don't have to worry about strange Egyptian cultists skulking around--"
"You don't know that, Chief. I told you we never apprehended Sethos."
"Yeah, and like he's stupid enough to stick around to get caught?"
"He's an expert terrorist. Wanted for bombings. You don't have to be *close* to set off a bomb."
"I'm willing to bet he's nowhere *near* Cascade, lover. What would be the point?"
Jim shook his head. "We'll discuss your going back to work later. It's a moot point at that moment, anyway."
Another look, this one more irritated than annoyed. "You can turn down the Blessed Protector meter, Jim. There's nothing *to* discuss. I'm restricted for a week--I'll live with that. After that..." Blair spread his hands out, and Jim flashed on the long, finely-boned, elegant fingers. "...I'm a grown man. I can do as I please."
"Even if I don't want you to?"
"Jim..." Blair sighed. "Just because we're lovers doesn't give you the right to control me. I didn't hand you the keys and say 'drive'...it's still *my* life."
"I don't want to lose you," Jim whispered, turning away from Blair.
Another sigh, this one more weary than anything else. Blair got off the couch and went to put his arms around Jim. The older man stood stiffly in the loose circle. "Jim...we don't have any control over how long we have with each other--we just have to accept the time that's given to us. If it's cut short in this lifetime, there'll be another; we know that. C'mon, babe." Blair ran his hands up and down Jim's arms and was encouraged when his lover relaxed and leaned into the embrace.
He *wasn't* prepared for the hungry, demanding mouth that swooped down and latched on to his, tongue thrusting greedily. Two strong hands came up to grab handfuls of his hair, effectively holding his head still while Jim plundered his mouth.
The kiss ended as abruptly as it'd begun, and Jim clutched Blair to him like a drowning man holds a life preserver. "Don't leave me. Promise you won't leave me," Jim whispered harshly, the sound of tears in his voice.
"I can't promise something I don't have control over...but I will promise to love you forever, regardless of whether we're together or apart. Jim...Jim, look at me." Blair pushed away slightly, ignoring the twinge in his abdomen, and ducked until he could snag Jim's eyes with his own. "Listen to me, okay? This is *not* something we have control over--this is something we have to accept and make the most of. I'm not *planning* on going anywhere--and I feel fairly certain everything's okay. We broke the cycle, lover. *You* broke the cycle. I'm alive, we found each other, we're together. Let's just be glad for that, all right? Jim?" Blair stabbed Jim with a finger, trying to emphasize his point.
"All right," came the low response.
Blair guided Jim over to the couch and pushed him into a sitting position, then laid down and curled up against him, using the bigger man's leg for a pillow. All that had worn him out. He was just going to close his eyes for a few minutes...
Jim rested a hand on Blair's hair, enjoying the feel of it beneath his sensitive fingers. He listened to the soft sounds Blair's body made as he slept: the little breathy whispers, the beat of his heart, the noise the blood in his veins made. If he concentrated, Jim could track the flow out of Blair's heart as it cycled through him.
He shook his head, considering the conversation they'd just had. His Guide would never cease to amaze and surprise him. 'He's been my Guide in our other lives too,' Jim mused. 'Maybe not in the same way as with the sentinel thing, but he's always been the wiser of the two of us. Is that why I trusted him so implicitly from the beginning? Because I sensed that it was okay to?' The detective shifted, trying to get a little more comfortable now that he had dead weight lying on his lap. Stupid, to lose it like that over such an irrational thing. 'Well, maybe not so irrational--after all, I've lost him three times before, at least.'
Allowing himself to take comfort in what Blair had pointed out--that the cycle did indeed appear to be broken--Jim sat there, just caressing Blair's hair and enjoying the presence of his Guide...his friend...his lover.
Thursday morning, 5/15
"Hey, lazybones."
Jim opened his eyes at the gentle nudge that accompanied the greeting. "Hey, yourself."
Blair scooted closer--not that they could be far apart in this bed--and leaned in for a kiss. It started as a sweet, easy kiss, lips meeting and pressing lightly, then turned suddenly into something hard and fierce as the flames fanned again.
Jim shifted onto his back and without breaking the kiss pulled Blair onto him, reveling in the warm, soft body blanketing his. Hands began a roaming exploration, skimming across flesh that was rapidly heating, cupping and rubbing buttocks that flexed beneath his touch, pressing their bodies together.
Blair drew away with a soft moan, and Jim instantly stilled his hands, feeling the skin of Blair's stomach spasm.
"No, don't stop, man...it feels so good to have you touching me."
"I hurt you."
"No, you didn't--there're just a few tender spots, that's all. Come on, Jim, please..." Blair flashed wide blue eyes at his partner, and smiled.
"I don't want to hurt you, babe."
"I'll let you know if it really hurts, big guy. I promise." Blair leaned back in for another kiss, this one moving down Jim's neck to gently nip at the soft skin there. Jim rolled them onto their sides, then hissed with pleasure and arched his head back, allowing Blair's teeth to graze over his Adam's apple.
They lost themselves in the pleasure of each other's bodies for several long minutes after that, teeth and lips gently caressing, hips beginning to undulate. Blair moved closer to Jim, and grasped his hipbone, pulling their bodies--and their cocks-into alignment with each other, gasping at the sensation. If they did this a thousand times a day he'd never tire of the feel of Jim's body rubbing against his.
He threw his head back, panting as he tried to breathe and ride the wave of pleasure and pain; groaned out loud as it crested and he fell into it. "Jim!...Oh, god...yesyesyesyesyes...", thrusting hard against the hand that was stroking him. He felt warm wetness on his stomach and looked up to see Jim's face contorted in a grimace of pleasure, not breathing or making any noise. It wasn't until his body stopped spasming that Jim began breathing again, panting harshly to replace the lost oxygen.
"What was *that*?" Blair asked, when he was capable of speech again.
"Intense," Jim smiled at him, eyes still hot. Blair felt his body respond to the heat in that gaze, and drew Jim's head down to his to kiss him again.
"Mmmm...," he said when he pulled away. "I could get used to waking up like this every morning. D'you think Simon would mind us coming in late every day?"
Jim groaned as he tried to shift into a sitting position. "I think he would. I don't know if my body could do this *every* day, Chief. Have some pity and remember I'm older than you are."
Blair captured an arm and tugged a not-very-resisting Jim back to him. "You're surprisingly well preserved for such an ancient specimen," he laughed as his tongue caressed Jim's nipples.
The bigger man groaned again and arched into the mouth that was teasing him. He buried his fingers in Blair's hair and held his head steady. "Jesus, Blair...this is getting out of control here, babe."
"Why?" Blair pulled back for a moment to ask, then leaned back in to torment the other nipple.
"Oh...god...'cause you're making me so hot, baby...the...I..." Jim groaned when he felt Blair's mouth leave his nipple and begin traveling south. A tongue dipped into his navel, and Jim rasped, "You're...killing me...Blair..."
Then the torturous mouth was gone altogether, and Jim gasped with the loss. Blair lay on his side, arm propping him up, staring at him.
"What?" 'God, he's going to kill me for real...tease me to death.'
One finger traced an outline of his nipples. "I love you."
"I love you too." Jim closed his eyes, prayed for a quick death to end this torture, then opened them again, meeting the smoky-blue eyes with his own. "I want you, Blair. I want to bury myself in you...feel you under me...take what's mine. And you're *mine*, babe."
Blair felt the hot words pulse through him, and he lowered his head to kiss Jim again, moaning softly as large hands came up to caress his chest, teasing sensitive nubs. "Yours," he breathed as Jim claimed his mouth for another deep, mind-numbing kiss; his body beginning to move against Jim's once again.
Thursday afternoon, 5/15
"Hey, Jim."
"Yeah?"
"Would you have fifty kinds of conniptions if I had Michael bring some of the paperwork I need to do over here tonight? I can do some of it from here, and--"
Jim walked from the bathroom, where he'd been scrubbing the tub, to the living area. Blair was sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of him, glasses on and hair tied back. In short, looking like his old self. A wave of resentment coursed through Jim. 'Damned exhibit--he nearly dies because of it and still can't leave it alone.'
"I thought we talked about this already."
"I thought we did, too, man." Jim's words were enough to tell Blair all he needed to know. "I was serious, Jim. You can't live my life for me. I haven't been taken off the planning committee, they just moved the date back some. I still have responsibilities."
"You're not better."
"I'm better enough to have sex with you twice a day, but not to do some paperwork at the table?"
Jim flinched. "I--"
"And don't you dare tell me you didn't want to do any of that, James Ellison! Man, we're talking like major double standards here."
"We didn't have sex," Jim blurted out. "You said so yourself. Called it teasing."
"So you can justify it like that?"
"Listen, Sandburg...I *didn't* want to get started doing anything until you were totally healed--'til the doctor's restriction period had ended. But you..."
"Is this where you say I took unfair advantage of you? That is *so* not true, man. You wanted it as bad as I did." Blair paused, as Jim's words sank it. "And what's with this 'Sandburg' shit?"
"What the hell else should I call you? You're not acting like Blair, or Chief, or babe...you're being a...a..."
"A what? A spoiled brat because I'm not getting my own way? I'm an *adult*, Jim. I don't *have* to ask your permission to do something; I did because we're *partners*--lovers, life partners now--and I was trying to...be considerate. Man, *nothing* is going to happen to me, doing paperwork here at home."
Jim sat heavily on the couch, staring at his hands. He raised his eyes to look at Blair. "Why are we fighting all the time? We never used to...never argued all that much."
Blair sighed as all of the steam left his argument.
"We're adjusting to a new relationship, lover." He joined Jim on the couch. "Your protective instincts have kicked into overdrive, and *I'm* not used to that level, anymore than you are. It'll take some time...but we'll get used to it." He grinned then, to lighten the mood a little, "Besides, one of the perks of fighting is making up."
Jim accepted the invitation and pressed Blair backward, straddling the younger man without touching him, seeking out that mouth that never failed to set him on fire.
"See?" Blair gasped when they broke apart. "That's the nice part. Now, can you deal with the other? Or do we go round two?"
"Just be careful, okay? That's all I ask."
"I--" Blair clamped his mouth shut on his reply, that he'd be likelier to get hurt sleeping with Jim than he would by doing paperwork. "Yeah, I will. Now c'mere." He pulled Jim back down to him.
Saturday, 5/17
"What d'you want for lunch?"
Blair looked up from his computer screen, startled by Jim's voice. "Oh, I dunno. What're my choices?"
"Sandwiches or sandwiches." Jim smiled. "I need to get groceries."
"Ah. Well, I guess I'll take sandwiches then." Blair stood up and stretched, the hem of his tee-shirt riding above his waistband.
Jim watched the skin appear with a sense of longing and anticipation. 'It doesn't matter how often I look at him...I keep wanting more.' He reached a gentle finger out to trace the pink scar. Blair had abandoned the steri-strips yesterday, stating that air would do him more good now than covering the newly healed incision.
Blair started with surprise when Jim dropped to his knees in front of him, gently pushing the sweats down a little more. "Uh, Jim..." To his confusion though, Jim didn't do anything beyond trace a finger again across his scar, then lean in to kiss it gently. He cradled Jim's head against his stomach, startled to feel the wet of tears against his skin. He shifted down onto his own knees. "You okay, man?"
Jim nodded his head. "I don't know what that was all about. Just..." he broke off, not sure of what to say. "Just had the urge."
"To cry over my stomach," Blair said dryly.
"Yeah," the Sentinel smiled. "You know, I can *see* the difference in the new skin and the old? And the gradations of scar tissue." He paused, running a finger across the scar again. "I can feel a temperature difference, too. The scar is slightly cooler...and feels smoother--probably because there aren't any hair follicles."
Blair smiled. Jim was running his own test, using *him* as a guinea pig. Well, whatever. "C'mon, big guy. I'm hungry." He stood, tugging Jim up with him. "I could probably eat some lunch, too," he teased gently. It pulled a smile from his partner, so it was worth it. "Want help getting groceries?"
"You can't do the stairs. Or carry anything."
"I'm perfectly capable of doing the stairs...I did the ones in here yesterday, when you ran out to get a paper. And I never said I was going to carry anything." Blair mentally held his breath, waiting for the expected reaction.
Jim sucked a breath in, and stared at his lover. "Sandburg..." Then he shook his head, as if realizing the futility of a lecture, and instead leaned in to kiss him. "What am I going to do with you?" he muttered against Blair's lips.
The younger man shrugged. "Love me?"
"I already do. C'mon, we'll get a bite out. Just--you'll tell me if there's a problem, right?"
Blair nodded. "As long as I take things slow and easy, I'm okay."
His partner looked dubious, but nodded. "Let's go then."
The two men had Chinese for lunch, then headed for the grocery store. It had taken them longer than it normally would've to navigate the stairs, but as long as he wasn't carrying Blair, Jim didn't mind. He matched his pace with his lover's, slowing imperceptibly whenever his senses picked up indications of strain or discomfort.
It was good to get out, for both of them. Jim hadn't gone out but once or twice since bringing Blair back to the loft; Blair hadn't been out at all, excepting his trip home from the hospital, since he was wounded nearly two weeks ago.
They argued good-naturedly over the usual things at the store: which brand of coffee to get, which mushrooms and tomatoes looked fresher, brown eggs or white. Jim was relieved at how *normal* it seemed; he'd been wondering if they were ever going to find a balance again between the old and the new. 'Not that I have a problem *at all* with the way the relationship is...just that I miss the easy-going of the old.' Maybe Blair was right, and they were just readjusting. He smiled. Of course Blair was right-as far as guiding him went, his partner hadn't been wrong yet.
They paused in the pharmaceutical section, almost instinctively drawn to the isle that contained condoms and lubricants. Blair halted the cart in front of the display, and turned to Jim with an eyebrow raised.
"I don't think we're going to need those," Jim said firmly. "Unless you're more comfortable...?"
Blair shook his head. "My last test was clean...I've been careful...and I haven't had sex in six months."
Jim's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Six *months*? Jesus, Sandburg, why not?"
"Wasn't the right person." Jim drew a deep breath at the love shining from those incredible eyes. He reached a hand out and grabbed a couple of tubes of the lube and tossed them in the cart.
"Only two?" Blair teased.
"We haven't had a need for *any*, yet. Let's see how we do with this, okay?"
"Sure, Jim," his lover grinned at him.
Blair took a couple of Tylenol and a nap when they got home, worn out from the unaccustomed exercise. Jim put the groceries away and puttered around the loft putting things away, straightening up. He found himself watching Blair as he slept, and flicking his eyes toward the stairs to his bedroom. If Sandburg could do the stairs, then they could sleep upstairs tonight. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy being *that* close to his friend; rather that he wanted the room to stretch out.
A gentle snort drew his attention back to Blair, and Jim felt his heart clench at the same time heat shot straight to his groin. His lover lay there on the couch, hair mussed from sleep, legs spread slightly, one knee raised. That beautiful mouth-made just for kissing and being kissed--was pursed, as if waiting to be kissed.
'Jesus, even in his sleep he can rouse me like no one else has ever done.' The thought slammed into Jim and he turned away, a little shaky over the hold this man held on him.
Saturday night, 5/17
The atmosphere was charged with electricity and tension as they got ready for bed. Something had changed, but Jim wasn't sure what it was. 'Was it bringing Blair up here? Actually having him in my--our--bed?' He gazed pensively at Blair, wondering if he felt the currents as well. Something told him he did; his partner seemed almost fey at times, picking up on subtle changes in the air around them.
He stood at the foot of the bed, watching his lover with hungry eyes; the smaller man was spread out on the bed, waiting patiently for him.
Blair felt the heat of Jim's gaze and felt his own body temperature begin to rise. Jim must have sensed it too, because the fire in his eyes picked up intensity, until the younger man had to break the connection or risk getting scorched. He looked away, desire curling through him.
The bed dipped, and Jim stretched out along side of him, running a hand gently down his chest. "How's your stomach?"
"Feels fine." There was a breathy quality to Blair's voice, like he'd just run up the stairs.
"Yeah...feels fine to me, too," Jim rasped, fingers tracing circles on the warm skin of Blair's belly before moving upward to his chest, combing through the fine, soft hairs.
Blair uttered what sounded like a hysterical giggle, and arched into Jim's hands. "Touch me," he begged in a ragged voice. "Please."
"God, yes..." Jim's words were a whisper against Blair's neck as he kissed his way up to the full, sensuous mouth waiting for him. He gave a throaty groan as that mouth opened under his, sweet warmth beckoning him in. Tonight his lover tasted like the red wine he'd had with dinner...dark, rich, sweet. Forbidden pleasures and hidden desires. The thoughts, tastes and smells combined into a heady draught, and Jim drank from the source until he was dizzy.
He moved from Blair's mouth after sucking on that full lower lip, trailing kisses down, following the jawline. The contrast of stubble and soft skin against his tongue was highly erotic, and he licked over the trail he'd just kissed. The sensitive, untouched skin on the underside of Blair's jaw beckoned him then, and he paused to suck on it briefly, drawing a groan of pleasure from his lover. Moving on further down, Jim stopped to nip sharply at the juncture of shoulder and neck, licking over the bite before placing a hard, sucking kiss there. Blair growled low in his throat and arched against Jim's mouth.
Jim backed off then, wanting--needing--more. He watched Blair through eyes that were dark and hot with desire, feeling the flames rage higher when his lover stretched enticingly for him.
"I want you, Blair. I need to feel you surrounding me, feel myself throbbing inside you."
"God, Jim...yes..." Blair breathed the last word, barely able to make his brain function after the meltdown from Jim's words. He raised himself up onto his knees, joining Jim who was kneeling beside him; their erections stood proudly, wantonly, and both men groaned when they touched against each other.
Jim's arms encircled the younger man, and Blair brought his hands up to rest on the hard muscles of Jim's chest. A deep kiss then, full of promises made and kept, of passion and desire, love and sex.
Blair moved back, but stayed within the circle of Jim's arms, gazing into the eyes of his future, his past. "Are you sure? Really sure this is what you want?"
Jim took Blair's hand from his chest where it was trying to restrain him. Lifting the younger man's fingers to his lips, he kissed them one by one. "Babe," the Sentinel rubbed his Guide's fingers along his own jaw, savoring the feel of them. "I'm absolutely sure. I want this. I've always wanted this. In the past, now, and in the future. We're meant to be together. Don't you see? I love you, Blair, in this time and the next."
Blair felt himself tremble with emotion as Jim drew him forward. Lips to lips, he whispered, "I love you, too, Jim. Always. As it was meant to be." He leaned toward Jim and took the older man's lips in a fierce kiss, at once claiming him and being claimed.
Love gave way to its darker echo, lust, and the two men embraced it fully. Jim pulled Blair against him and tumbled the two of them to the mattress, limbs entwined and bodies rubbing frantically. Blair bit his way across Jim's chest before sucking on each hard little nipple, feeling the other man's groans reverberate through his own body. Jim opened his senses up as fully as he was able without risk of an overload, and arched his body upward against the input.
Touch. Blair's body everywhere on his, fingers, lips, tongue, teeth, skin-to-skin, hard, soft, supple. Stroking, licking, sucking, biting. The fine hairs on his lover's body as Jim's tongue did its own exploring.
Taste. Blair's sweetness, salt, bitter from medication, the slick of saliva as it joined his in a kiss. A hint of earthiness from wine that lingered on Blair's tongue.
Smell. Musk and sweat, more salt, aloe, pine, heat. Faint bittersweet, wine from dinner. Pheromones and a hint of semen.
Sound. Groans, breathy whispers, whimpers, slick on slick, sucking, licking...louder moans, a growl--from him? Heartbeats, two of them, racing with abandonment.
Sight. Blue eyes meeting his, generous lips--pink, with hints of darker inside, flashing white teeth, dark hairs covering tanned, flushed skin, brown nipples peaked with excitement.
Jim catalogued all these and more in a heartbeat, storing the information away for later. His cock reacted to all the stimuli, and he arched harder against Blair, desperate to relieve the pressure. His Guide backed away and ran a soothing hand down his body.
"Take it easy, lover..."
"Want you," Jim moaned, burying his face in Blair's chest, tongue seeking out the small nubs of flesh he knew were there.
"Ahhh....oh, yeah..."
'Found them!' Jim thought triumphantly, then began tonguing them, alternating with suckling. He could feel each increase in the rigidity of the tissue as Blair's nipples swelled and hardened, and Jim lost himself in the sensations against his tongue. A loud moan of pleasure brought him back from his mini-zone-out.
He moved down Blair's body, kissing and sucking each inch of flesh, feeling his way with his tongue and his fingers, allowing scent to guide him.
The pungent scent of pre-ejaculate reached him and Jim licked the engorged crown, reveling in the taste. It was heady: rich and dark, salt and bitter, and he longed for more. A long lick up and down the swollen, weeping cock elicited loud gasps and groans from his partner, and Jim smiled briefly against the over-heated flesh before taking it entirely into his mouth.
"Oh, god, Jim....oh, *shit*...ohohohyesyesyesYES!" Blair practically screamed the last word as his body arched into Jim's hungry mouth, and he released his seed in hot spurts.
Jim swallowed the offering, sucking on Blair until he'd gotten every drop, then licking gently to clean him up. He crawled back up to cradle Blair in his arms. "You okay, baby?"
"More than okay," came the weak reply. "If I were any more relaxed I'd be dead. God, Jim, that was fantastic...shit, my body is still in hyperdrive..."
Jim smiled against Blair's shoulder; the younger man was right--he could feel the small aftershocks of orgasm sparking through Blair's body as he held him.
A gentle hand reached down to cup him, stroking him with light touches, and Jim groaned, suddenly aware of the pounding need for release. "What about you?"
"I want you."
"Then I'm yours, lover." Blair paused, then continued in a low, throaty voice, "Fuck me, make love to me, make us one. I want to feel you inside me, Jim...feel you coming inside me."
"Oh, god. Roll onto your side, Chief." The words were hoarse, and the hands that helped him over shook slightly.
Blair heard the rustling noises as Jim groped for the lube, then felt a large warm hand softly caressing his rear. It moved in slow, lazy circles that grew smaller and smaller, until just one finger was sliding up and down the crease between his cheeks. He shuddered at the almost-but-not-quite tickling sensation as one finger began probing, gently rubbing against the opening there.
Warm lips touched his shoulder at the same time a cool finger pressed against him. Blair relaxed his body and pushed backward, drawing the finger into him. He groaned at the sensation...it'd been so *long*. Behind him Jim made a noise in his throat that could have been a groan, but wasn't quite.
Those same lips moved up to caress his neck, and Jim's voice, low and raspy, whispered in his ear, "You're so tight, Blair...I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't, man. Ah...yeah...just like...that..." Blair moved his hips as Jim's finger began thrusting slowly in and out of him, twisting and rotating, opening him up.
The first finger was withdrawn, and two replaced it, cool and slick with gel. Blair moaned as Jim began moving the fingers within him, stretching the taut muscle. It hurt...just a bit, but it felt good, too. He thrust back toward Jim, wanting more.
The fingers moved faster, shifting and turning within him, and the lips on his neck were driving him crazy. His cock was hardening again, and he felt like all points on his body fed straight into his groin. He was-- "Oh! Oh, *yeah*, man, oh god, Jim...just like that, lover..."
Jim shuddered as the ripples of pleasure that ran through Blair echoed through him. He opened up his tactile sense and felt for that small bump again, delighted in the sudden stiffening of Blair's body as his fingers found the prostate and rubbed over it. "Like that, do you?" he breathed into his lover's ear.
"....yeah...oh, yes...oh, Jim..."
He had to have him now. Before he exploded with wanting. Jim drew his fingers from Blair's body, and rubbed his hands over the warm skin of his cheeks. "Ready, baby?"
"Give it to me, lover." The voice was throaty, raw, needing. Jim shivered as the words flowed over him and he reached for Blair, squeezing his ass, spreading the cheeks then pushing them back together, falling into a rhythm. Blair moaned and pushed backward. Jim spread them again and held Blair open, trailing a single finger down the crevice there to rub against the loosened hole before placing the head of his cock there.
"Relax, Chief..."
Cool, hot, hard. Blair forced the tension from his body, and felt the head of Jim's cock pressing against him, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. "Ohmigod." The groan was pulled from Blair's throat as Jim slowly pushed into him. He breathed in and centered himself, relaxing further. Jim's hand came around and began stroking his hard cock, soothing him. He continued to thrust forward slowly, easing in a bit at a time and giving Blair time to adjust in between. Eventually he was all the way inside his lover, his balls nestled against Blair's ass.
"God, baby, you feel so good...so hot, so tight...I'm gonna love you, take you...you're mine..." Jim whispered the words in Blair's ear, delighting in the shiver that ran up and down his Guide's body.
"Yes...do it. Do it, Jim...fuck me...please...make love to me..." Blair's voice resonated in the darkness, a rough whisper that was more growl than not.
Jim responded by moving slowly, pulling himself out then easing back in. Blair wiggled, then thrust himself backward, taking all of Jim in, in one smooth motion.
"Faster, lover. Do it faster!"
"Oh, yeah, baby..."
"Ohmigod...oh, god, I love it...do it...do me...oh, yeah..."
Blair kept up the litany of words, encouraging and urging his lover; pushing him faster and harder.
Jim groaned at the sensations flooding him, and bit down on Blair's neck, the scent of sex and Blair all around him, filling him, creating a burning hunger that had to be appeased. Blair groaned at the feel of teeth digging into his skin, and he tightened his muscles reflexively.
Jim growled and increased the speed of his thrusts as well as the speed of his hand on Blair's cock. He could feel the younger man's body beginning to tense, and opened up his hearing; listened to the blood moving faster through veins, flowing toward the already straining, engorged organ...other fluids beginning to move, a rush as everything flowed toward one central point.
Then Blair was tightening around him and yelling his name, and there was warmth on his hand from the seed that spilled forth. Jim groaned at the feeling of muscles tightening on him, drawing him further in. He clenched his teeth and drove himself in, harder and faster, as Blair pushed back against him.
The tight channel clutched him then, and held him while he released his seed deep into his lover, giving the essence of himself. For long moments Jim held that position, thrust to the hilt inside Blair. Then he relaxed, and drew Blair back tightly against himself, kissing the side of his neck over and over, nearly sobbing in his ecstasy, hearing his sobs echoed in Blair's as they found each other completely, finally, after so many years parted.
Jim recovered his voice first. "God, Blair...you okay, baby?"
"Mmmm...fine. Oh that was good, man. So good..."
The bigger man eased himself out, then shifted Blair onto his back and leaned over him, lips gently caressing in the lightest of kisses. "I love you."
"Love you too, Jim." Blair snuggled against Jim, seeking the other man's heat as his own body cooled down. "Mmmm. Ah..." The last sound was more a sigh than anything, but Jim heard it.
"You sure you're okay?" He tilted Blair's face up towards his. "Blair?"
"I'm *fine*, lover. Just a little tender...a little achy. It's been awhile."
"Yeah?"
"Mmhmm. Oh, that's nice," Blair nearly purred. Jim was stroking his forehead, gently brushing the damp curls away. Over and over, soft repetitive caresses. He leaned in closer and placed a kiss on the cool forehead, then pulled away. Blair clutched at him. "Where're you going?"
"To get us a washcloth. We sleep like this they'll never pry us apart."
"What's make you so sure I'd want to be pried apart?"
Jim chuckled, and the sound floated back to Blair as his partner went downstairs.
The next thing he was aware of was a warm, damp cloth moving over him, and Blair opened his eyes to see Jim wiping him off. He smiled sleepily and opened his arms to his lover when Jim set the cloth aside.
"Missed you," he whispered, as the older man climbed into bed.
"I wasn't gone for long," Jim smiled.
"Didn't have to be." Blair yawned.
"Go to sleep, Chief." Soft touches down his arm as Jim's fingers slid up and down, soothing, caressing. "I'll be here in the morning."
"So will I..."
Cradled in each other's arms then, they slept.
Chapter 11
Sunday, 5/18
The sun shining through shades he'd forgotten to close woke him, and Jim Ellison cursed once more the heightened senses that picked up everything, denying him even the small luxury of sleeping in.
Even asleep his body catalogued and reacted to the different outside stimuli: heat as the sun rose--both in the room, and from the rays themselves, the increase in light as the beams traveled across the room, even the smell of the room--daylight smelled different, maybe from the heat. It all combined to wake him up and he didn't want to be awake just yet.
The clock read 7:03a.m., and Jim groaned silently. The smaller man beside him slept bonelessly, only his steady heartbeat and slow, even respirations keeping Jim from thinking he was dead.
He rolled slowly onto his side to prop himself up and watch Blair sleep. What a ride last night had been! Even without the added emotional attachment, the sex had been great; the combined package was nearly overwhelming. 'How did I ever manage life without him?', he wondered, reaching to brush a lock of hair back. 'Maybe that's why I never felt whole, complete. I was waiting for the other half of myself.'
The need to touch Blair--to confirm that he really was there next to him--overwhelmed him and Jim skimmed a hand down the length of the lean body beside him.
Blair's breathing pattern shifted slightly and he stretched, arching into Jim's hand.
"Good morning," he said, stretching again.
"'Morning, Chief." Jim watched the play of sinuous muscle beneath skin, and longed to taste him again.
"You're looking at me like I'm breakfast," Blair said breathlessly as the heat from Jim's eyes transferred itself to his body.
"Can't think of anything I'd rather have," Jim growled as he leaned over and began nipping at the side of Blair's neck.
The smaller man moaned and arched, offering his throat up, hissing in pleasure when Jim paused to suck on the Adam's apple bobbing there. "Jim...oh, man...Christ, yes, lover..." Blair wiggled beneath the large arm holding him, and Jim shifted his attention, moving lower toward nipples that were budding with excitement.
This time there was no drawn out foreplay or teasing. Jim lubed his fingers and sought out the small opening, stretching it gently even as he laved Blair's nipples with his tongue and teased with gentle bites.
Blair writhed beneath him, pushing his chest up against the mouth that was suckling him, pushing his ass down on the fingers that were fucking in and out of him. He shuddered in a combination of mindless pleasure--his brain was nearly on overload here-and total frustration because Jim wasn't allowing him to do any touching of his own.
"Jim!"
"What, baby?" the bigger man gasped, feeling Blair tighten around his fingers.
"I'm gonna...come...if you don't hurry...you'll miss it..."
Gentle hands rolled him onto his side and spread him open, exposing him to the slick, hard cock that probed at his asshole. Blair sucked a breath in as the swollen organ began pushing into him--he was really tender from last night.
Jim stopped. "You okay?"
Blair nodded, a short, tight motion. "Just a little sore. No! Don't stop, man," he panted when it looked like Jim was going to do just that. "God, don't leave me like this...please, Jim...fuck me, lover. I need to feel you..."
"I don't want to hurt you..."
Blair pushed backward slightly. "You're *not*, man. I'm just a little sore. Do it, lover. Give it to me."
"Yes...oh, yeah, baby..." Jim resumed his pushing motion and was rewarded by Blair's body opening around him. He gasped as the heat engulfed him and closed his eyes to better savor the sensation. All around him...tight, hot...moist...the gentle throbbing of Blair's body as the blood flowed back and forth like a gentle massage on his engorged, sensitive penis.
He was brought out of his zone-out by an impatient thrust back against him. "*Do* something, man...don't just lie there..."
"Sorry, babe...I lost it for a minute...god, you feel so *good*, Blair...I want to bury myself in you and stay there forever..." He began a gentle thrusting, almost an undulation, as he talked.
Blair leaned back against him, sighing in pleasure as Jim throbbed inside him, moved inside him... Soft lips caressed the side of his neck and he shifted his head sideways, allowing Jim room to kiss him. He shivered when long fingers trailed across his aching cock, gently caressing the weeping tip, spreading the moisture around. "Yes...yes, Jim..."
"You're mine, Blair." Jim began moving a little faster inside him.
"Oh, yeah."
"Say it. Say you're mine."
"I'm yours, lover. I belong to you, body, heart and soul." Blair shivered. "Tell me."
"Oh, god, yes...I'm yours. You have power over me no one has ever had..." Jim stroked Blair faster, listening to gauge how close he was to climax. "I love you so much, baby...you're everything to me..."
"God, Jim..." Blair closed his eyes as they rocked together faster and faster, the hand on his cock speeding him toward mindless oblivion.
"Mine. Forever." Jim bit down on Blair's neck and his lover screamed and exploded all over his hand.
Jim slipped over the edge when Blair's muscles spasmed and clenched him. He felt a fireball burst in his body, sending liquid warmth speeding through him, culminating in a hot creamy release he pumped into Blair.
They sagged against each other, both still shuddering from the mind-blowing orgasms. After a few minutes Blair shifted and rolled, sighing in disappointment as Jim's cock slipped from his body. He gazed down at Jim, smiling at the still-dazed look on his lover's face.
"So, you were saying about breakfast?""
Jim groaned. "You want me to move after *that*?"
"A shower would be good."
"Have some mercy here, Chief. I'm dead. Didn't you notice?"
Blair ran a questing hand down Jim's body, noting with amusement that his partner's cock apparently didn't think he was dead. "Doesn't look like a serious condition," he replied mischievously, petting Jim's twitching penis.
Jim glanced down in amazement when he felt a stirring against his leg, and saw that Blair was semi-erect. "You have *got* to be kidding, Sandburg! You can't be ready to go again."
"The flesh is weak, man. I've got months--years, decades, whatever--to make up for."
"I don't think I can, babe. *It* might think so," Jim nodded toward his own anatomy, "but I'm not so sure about that. I think reality hasn't caught up yet."
"Man, I was doing myself a couple of times a day, at least, these last few months. Hey, it was the only way I could keep from jumping your bones," he added defensively when Jim arched a brow at him.
"I know you were--and it was a constant source of frustration for me, since I didn't have any reason to think you'd be interested."
Blair stared at him in shocked surprise for a minute. "You mean you'd been fantasizing about *me*?"
"Yeah. And it didn't help matters to be able to smell you every time you came."
Blair shuddered. "God--we were so close for so long."
He stared up at Jim and the older man leaned to kiss him, noting with some amusement that Blair had given up on his now-flaccid penis, and was instead stroking his own rapidly swelling organ. "Want some help with that?" he offered, reaching a hand out.
"Sure--why not? Help a friend out," Blair whispered softly as Jim's mouth closed over his own and a large warm hand brushed his away and took over caressing his cock.
It didn't take long. Jim stroked Blair's cock with one hand and his body with the other, kissing him deeply all the while. He felt Blair's temperature and heart rate surge and plunged his tongue deep into the younger man's mouth, imitating intercourse. 'Tongue-fucking,' Blair thought hazily before he stiffened against Jim, thrusting hard into the encircling hand, coming in weak spurts.
Jim petted him and caressed him for a minute, soothing the still-straining body. Blair slowly relaxed, and Jim questioned, "Better, baby?", kissing the now-sweaty brow.
"Yeah." Blair sighed deeply. "Man, what a night--what a day." He closed his eyes. "Can I take a nap?"
"You know--it's only eight in the morning."
"Yeah, but I've been up for a while." Smokey-blue eyes opened to grab his and Jim groaned as he got the pun.
"Clown school, right?" he leaned in for a kiss.
"First in my class, man." Blair stretched, yawning, then curled in on himself with a low groan of pain. "Ow..."
"You okay?" Jim leaned over him, eyes anxious. "Blair?"
"Just a minute, man." He breathed through his nose for a minute, body tense. "Guess that last one was a little much," he tried to joke.
Jim's expression was stern. "I told you it was too much, too soon."
"I don't care," Blair replied, cautiously uncurling his body. "It was worth it. All of it. And I'd do it again in a minute. See? I'm better now."
"Hmph." Jim didn't look convinced.
"Listen, I said I'd tell you if it hurt--and I will. It didn't hurt while we were making love...just afterward. I *know* that can't count..."
"Sandburg..."
"Lighten up, Jim. I'm better enough to do this, okay? My body wants it...wants you. I figure *I* should know best how I feel, right?"
Jim sighed. "I'd like to say yes--"
"Jim!" There was a note of warning in Blair's voice.
"Fine. Yes."
"Thanks, man. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. I guess if you won't let me nap we should go shower."
"Showering together is definitely something we should *not* do right now." Jim wasn't happy about dismissing Blair's pain, but if the man wouldn't talk about it there wasn't much he could do.
"Coward."
"Damn straight. *My* body is older than yours--it needs a recovery period."
"Your virtue is safe with me, lover. I couldn't do anything at the moment if I had to."
"Hit the showers, Sandburg. I'm gonna make some coffee." He shook his head at the pleading eyes. "We have plenty of time to shower together later, babe."
"Fine." Blair pouted for a minute, then got out of bed. He grimaced slightly as he walked across to the stairs. Jim caught the brief facial movement and frowned.
"What's wrong? Your stomach still bothering you?"
"No, that's fine, now. But don't ask me to sit on anything harder than the couch for a day or so."
Jim just grinned in smug satisfaction.
The rest of the day was a wash after that. Neither man felt like doing much of anything, so they lazed around on the couch exchanging casual caresses and kisses, just enjoying the time together.
They made love once more, in the mid-afternoon, then took a nap afterward when Jim claimed he *had* to get some rest if he was going to keep up. Blair took a nap because--regardless of the paces he insisted on putting it through--his body *was* still healing and he had worn it out.
They went out for dinner, Jim having decided that he was about cooked-out, and Blair not really in the mood. He told Jim he would pick back up with the cooking in the morning, but if Jim wanted dinner it was either order in or go out.
They returned to the loft, both in a good mood, happy from good food and each other's company. Blair was still feeling pleasantly stunned after their walk along the quay after dinner, when Jim had taken his hand and entwined their fingers, not caring who might notice. He'd asked Jim about it, and the bigger man replied that he was intending to live up to the condition as much as possible--he wasn't ashamed of his feelings for Blair; he loved Blair, and he wanted the whole world to know about it--although, he added, maybe not the whole world all at once.
The light on the answering machine was blinking when they walked through the door and Blair activated it while Jim locked up for the night.
"Hey, Blair, it's Michael. Gotta know if you're comin' back to work, pal. I'm drowning here, and Dr. H has scheduled a meeting for eleven a.m. tomorrow. Call me and let me know what's up. Thanks, man."
Blair could feel Jim's eyes on him as he turned around slowly. "I have to go back to work, Jim. There's no reason for me not to --it's been a week. I have an appointment with Dr. Chou tomorrow at eight and I'm sure he'll clear me." He stood there watching his friend, feeling uneasy as the silence grew.
"I wish you could understand why this is so hard for me," Jim said at last.
"Why don't you explain it to me?"
"I don't know if I can."
"Try," Blair said gently, reaching for Jim's hand. "I'm starting to see that this is a real issue for you--for us--that we have to work through." He guided Jim to the couch, and settled himself in between Jim's legs, pressing his back against the hard chest.
"I'm afraid."
"Of what?"
Jim's hands tightened on his, clutching. "I don't know. Of being... It's my fault you were hurt--my fault you died..." He broke off, his voice choked with tears. "I can't let you go, because you might not come back...not because you don't want to, but because someone stops you."
"Someone like Sethos?" Blair asked quietly, stroking the arms that were clenched around him, bruisingly tight.
"Yes..."
"Jim." Blair shifted in the embrace, turning to sit on his knees, facing Jim. "Look at me, big guy. I can't promise that nothing will ever happen to me. You know better than that. But you *can't* take on responsibility for the actions of men that lived hundreds of years ago. You can't."
"They were me--I was them. Whatever. I have to--*I* was at fault."
"No. Listen, lover. It wasn't *you*. Your soul has lived other lives, been other men...but you are *you*. You're no more Geoffrey, or Ian, or Joshua than I am. You have shared memories, but those lives don't overlap. You aren't responsible for something that one of them did. What you *are* responsible for, what's important, is that your soul learned the lesson it needed to. To love--and admit to that love--no matter the circumstances or consequences. *We*, us in this life, are our *own* people, Jim. We have lives that are not only separate from, but have nothing to do with, all those others."
"Then how do I get past this fear? How do I deal with this? I can't walk around shadowing you all the time, much as I'd like to." Jim's eyes were dark and serious, and Blair smiled encouragingly at him.
"We deal with this like we dealt with the control issue for your sentinel abilities. Slowly, one step at a time. Even if it means you shadow me for a little while." Blair leaned down and kissed Jim, a gentle, soft pressure on his lips. "I love you, James Ellison--and I'll do whatever it takes to get you through this. But you need to learn that you can't hold yourself responsible for the actions of others--even if we're talking past lives. Those are still different people. There is such a thing as taking too *much* of the guilt, man."
Jim pulled Blair tight against him. "You've always been my Guide, haven't you?"
"Huh? Ow, hey...ease up a bit, man. I've always been your Guide?"
Jim relaxed his grip somewhat. "Yeah--in the other lives, too."
"I don't know about all of them...but I was kind of as the incarnation of Ky. Hell, I don't know, Jim. Maybe 'guide' isn't the right word for it, for then. But my soul was wiser. Probably still is," he teased, grinning at his lover.
"Smartass."
"You keep saying that," Blair leaned in for a kiss. "Have we covered everything? Do we need to talk some more, or are you doing better with this?"
"I'm doing better. As long as you understand that *I* feel a need to protect you...and watch over you. That goes with the Protector thing you hung on me."
"Yeah, but you tend to make a bigger issue out of things than is necessary. There's protecting...and there's smothering. More of the former, less of the latter, please."
Jim was silent for a minute, then his arms tightened around Blair again. "I'm gonna go to the university with you tomorrow, Blair. I know I can't hover forever, but you'll have to deal with it for now, until I'm more comfortable with this."
"I can do that, man." Blair pulled back slightly and licked his lips seductively. "Now, I think there's something better we can do with our mouths then talk."
And he proceeded to show Jim what that was.
Monday, 5/19
Jim sat in the chair across from his partner, enjoying his occasional shift-and-wiggle motion with a smirk. Blair glanced up and caught the expression before he had a chance to change it, and said in a low voice only Jim's ears could hear,
"Just wait until the doctor clears me for everything."
The underlying promise in those words sent a tendril of heat snaking through his body and it was Jim's turn to shift uncomfortably as his cock hardened. Blair grinned at him.
"Blair Sandburg." The receptionist called his name and Blair stood up.
"Gonna go with me?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Yeah! You've been an active participant so far...why stop now?"
Jim smiled at the teasing tone in his mate's voice and got to his feet, surreptitiously adjusting himself in his pants.
"Everything looks good, Blair. The incision healed nicely, and the scar tissue is minimal. How've you been feeling?"
"Pretty good. I still get tired easily and the scar aches sometimes, but otherwise I feel pretty good."
"No pain going up or down the stairs or during intercourse?"
"No." Blair's head jerked up, shock on his face. "How'd you--"
"Know?" the doctor finished for him, smiling. "Just a hunch. The two of you look a lot happier than you did a week ago. I hope you're taking it easy."
"We are," Jim interjected.
"Um, doc, how long 'til I can...you know, participate on both ends?"
Jim closed his eyes briefly, trying to push down the amusement that was threatening to break free. Apparently his lover intended to make him 'pay' as soon as possible...
"I recommend you wait another week, just to be sure the muscles are well healed and up to the strain, but that's just a recommendation, of course. You know best what your body can handle."
Jim nearly choked. Judging from the expression in his partner's eyes, he'd be on the receiving end tonight.
"How are you doing otherwise? Do you need a refill for the pain medication? I won't refill the Percocet of course, but the other--"
"No, thanks. I haven't taken any of it for several days now."
"Nothing at all?"
Blair shook his head. "I hate putting drugs in my body, man. At least, I hate using the synthesized forms. I've got some teas at home I've been drinking to help...but I haven't taken anything OTC or prescription since like Wednesday or Thursday, I think."
"Well, that's good, as long as you don't need anything. Anything else? Questions?"
"One," Blair began, his eyes serious. "It is okay for me to go back to work, right?"
"What sort of work do you do?"
"I've been working on an exhibit at Rainier. I'm in charge of the planning and set up."
Dr. Chou regarded his patient. "As long as you don't do any heavy lifting--you're still somewhat restricted for that--and you stop when you get tired, no, there's no reason you can't go back."
Blair shifted his gaze to Jim and the older man nodded cautiously. "Okay, thanks. That's all I had."
"Did you have any questions, Detective?"
Jim shook his head. "Nope--that last one cleared it all for me."
"All right then. You have my number if any problems come up, otherwise, that's it."
"No more visits back?"
"Not unless you need to for some reason, Blair. You're healing nicely. Take it easy for another week and you'll be back to normal."
"He was never *normal*, doc," Jim began, then stopped when Blair flipped him off behind the doctor's back. He grinned at his lover, a 'promises, promises' smile.
Dr. Chou left the room smiling and shaking his head.
Jim turned to Blair, who was pulling his shirt on. "What time is your meeting?"
"Eleven. I need to get over there and dig through my mail and e-mail messages, so we better get going."
It turned out to be a long day. Jim got them to the University by nine, and Blair spent the next hour and a half digging through two weeks worth of mail--electronic and otherwise.
Michael had left him detailed notes on everything that had gone on with the exhibit--meetings, changes, plans--and Blair spent the last half hour before the meeting reading through them.
As it turned out, it was a good thing that the detective had accompanied his partner. Dr. Hathaway told Jim that Simon would be calling him, but that he had requested Ellison personally to oversee the security for the opening night bash.
"Why me?"
"Because you're good at what you do, Detective. Had I listened to Blair sooner--or just listened better--a lot of this might never have happened. Including your injury," the doctor nodded toward Blair. "I'd like it very much if you would agree."
Jim and Blair exchanged looks, then Jim shrugged. "Might as well--I'd be there anyway, since Blair's going."
"Outstanding." Dr. Hathaway rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. Michael caught Blair's eye and raised a brow, causing the other man to grin. They launched into the actual meeting then, covering everything from the exhibit itself to security measures, to media coverage and guests.
Blair was given a copy of the guest list, invitations having been issued the week he was in the hospital. Jim moved to stand behind him so he could read over his shoulder and found himself wincing. It was just as bad as he remembered. Mayor Kowoski. Governor Adams. State Senators Bingham and Shelby. U.S. Senator Josephs. Dean Verastique. University President Samuels. 'Shit, half the 'who's who of Cascade and Washington State,' he thought as he continued reading. There were a couple of other local politicians, as well as lesser-ranked U personnel...the police commissioner... He sighed and Blair gave him a sympathetic smile.
They wrapped up the meeting two hours later, winding down with discussion about caterers.
Jim didn't even let Blair go back to his office. He took him by the arm and led him to the truck, then drove them to Romano's, a favorite Italian place of theirs. Blair frowned as he pulled into the parking lot.
"What's wrong, Chief?"
"I was hoping we'd go home--I'm in the mood for something else."
"Like what? They were advertising ziti with sausage as the special on TV last night, and I know you like that."
"I'm thinking of a different kind of sausage."
Jim looked over at Blair, at the heat in his eyes and the bulge in his jeans. "I'm *never* going to be able to keep up with you, babe."
"Sure you are. Or you can give it your best shot, anyway."
"I have--three times yesterday and twice this morning, if I recall correctly... How can you have anything left?" Jim shut the engine off and looked at his mate.
"I dunno, man. But I'm hot for you--for the way you make me feel." He licked his lips suggestively.
Jim sighed as his body twitched. "Man, it's like a Pavlovian response, isn't it? My reaction to you."
Blair's answer was a grin, followed by a hot kiss. Jim gasped when Blair released him. "Okay, Sandburg...you're gonna have to cork it for now. I'm hungry and you need to eat. *Especially* if you want to go back to your office today."
The younger man sighed, then adjusted himself in his jeans before exiting the truck. "Spoilsport."
"Just wait 'til you're my age. You'll understand."
"Yeah, and you're *so* much older, man," Blair rolled his eyes. "That is like such a *poor* excuse. Get another one, lover. You're doing just fine."
Monday evening, 5/19
As it turned out, neither one took advantage of the promises lavished during the day--they were both worn out by the time they got home.
Simon called Jim's cell phone shortly after they finished lunch, so before they returned to the university they went downtown to talk to him about the security detail.
It seemed to take forever to hammer out all the details, and still Jim wasn't satisfied. He chose Brown to assist him, since technically he was still on leave, and Simon gave him the task of picking the actual bodies to make up the detail. By the time they left at four-thirty Blair was drooping. Jim tried to talk him out of returning to his office, but he insisted he had paperwork he had to get, as well as a couple of notebooks. It was seven p.m. before they got back to the loft. Blair took a shower and went to bed; he was sound asleep by the time Jim finished his shower ten minutes later.
Jim smiled at the sight of his lover sprawled out on *their* bed, sound asleep with a smile on his lips. He kissed Blair tenderly on the head, spooned up behind him, pulled the covers up and went to sleep.
Thursday, 5/22
Blair rolled over when the insistent pressure against his bladder wouldn't go away. He climbed sleepily out of bed, groaning when he saw that it was just 5:14a.m. God, he hated waking up before the alarm went off. Jim had argued against setting an alarm--technically Blair was still on medical leave, though he'd gone in to the university for at least a few hours each day this week.
By the time he padded back from the bathroom he was wide awake, and looking speculatively out the window. There were faint pink streaks across the eastern sky heralding dawn. Jim was lying on his stomach, a pillow squished beneath him, legs splayed open. Blair sucked in his breath at the beauty of the man in the early morning light. Broad shoulders that tapered into a beautiful muscular back, ending in a narrow waist. The whole torso sat on the most gorgeous, sculptured butt he'd ever seen. Add to that thighs and legs...
He switched off the alarm and climbed back into bed. It was cool in the loft and his body had chilled a little while standing there looking at Jim. The heat his Sentinel was throwing felt good, and Blair cuddled up next to him. 'I'll wake him up slowly...make it worth getting up early for.' Laughing inwardly at his own joke, the young man pressed himself up against the large warm body and started placing kisses along those broad shoulders, slowly working his way downward.
Jim woke up when Blair was somewhere around his thighs. He'd been having the most erotic dream...there had been lips and fingers all over him, gently caressing him, rousing him unbelievably. He didn't want to wake up but was being pulled inexorably in that direction. He realized with a gasp that the dream was in fact reality when he felt the raspy-soft brush of Blair's tongue touch the curve of his ass. He reached a hand back and brushed against long curls.
"Blair...what're you doing?" he managed, as the tongue stroked down his heated skin again.
Looking up from his ministrations Blair mumbled, "I'd think that would be obvious." A smirk followed, before he bent his head back to his task.
Jim tensed briefly when he felt the tongue teasing along the cleft between his cheeks, barely dipping in.
Blair looked up, a question forming. "You okay with this?" he pulled back from Jim, one hand continuing to rub circles on the warm skin.
Jim nodded in answer and relaxed his body, spreading his legs further apart in invitation. He moaned quietly when he felt warm hands spread his cheeks apart, and a single moist finger rubbed gently over the little pucker.
"Beautiful..."
"Oh, god, baby..." he whispered, hands clenching at the sheets. "Please..."
Blair lowered his head and took a moment just to breathe in the musky scent of Jim's body. He pressed a kiss to the heated flesh of each cheek, then murmured against the sensitive skin, "You smell so good...so sexy..."
Jim shivered at the touch of warm breath against his sensitized body, holding himself ready for Blair's touch. Then Blair was dipping his head to taste Jim in earnest.
It was electrifying, that first brush of hot and wet across the sensitive nerves. Jim jumped and Blair grasped him firmly by the hips, holding him tightly to the bed. The tongue moved up and down, caressing him, teasing him. His lover drew wet circles around his hole with his tongue, first larger, then getting smaller before moving up and down again. Then he flattened his tongue and began taking slow, sweeping licks up and down, moving over the anus repeatedly.
Jim moaned, unable to form actual words, just incoherent sounds. He arched his back and pushed his ass upward toward Blair, begging without words, asking for everything. When he thought he might die from the sheer pleasure of it, because it couldn't get any better, Blair swirled his tongue across the opening and circled the ring of muscle before pushing at it with the tip of his tongue.
The sounds coming from Jim now were growls and he was alternately thrusting his ass up at Blair and grinding his aching erection into the mattress below him.
"God, baby, please...fuck me...take me...I want you inside me...oh, yeah...yeah...oh, god, Blair...shit, yeah...oh, man..."
Blair licked and tongued Jim for a minute longer, coating the small opening thoroughly with saliva. He eased a finger into his lover then, smiling as the growls turned to groans and gasps.
"You want this, sweetheart? Want me to give it to you? Take my cock and fuck you?"
"Yeah, oh, yeah, baby. Give it to me..." Jim pushed back against his finger shuddering at the hot words and the sensations.
Blair withdrew the one finger and inserted two, wiggling them around to stretch Jim open and also feeling for the prostate. He rubbed his fingers across it and Jim jumped like he'd been shot.
"Oh, Christ! Oh, yeah, baby...again, please...more..." Blair obliged, and Jim moaned louder. A third finger, and Jim was pushing back against him, gasping for more.
"You ready for me, lover?" Blair withdrew his fingers and reached for the lube.
"God, am I ready. Oh, baby, give it to me...Yes!" The last word ended on a hiss as Blair began pushing into him.
He had to stop partway in, not because of Jim--his lover seemed to be taking him easily--but because of his own body's reaction to this. It had been *so* *long* since he'd had sex with another man--as the top. Jim was tight, so he eased his way in, feeling the hot channel squeezing him. God, it felt so good, he could come this way without any other action. But judging from his lover's motions, pushing up against him, that wouldn't be accepted well. Blair took a deep breath and pushed the rest of the way in, Jim meeting him along the way.
He began stroking in and out, falling into an easy rhythm. He reached his arms up under Jim's, cradling him almost, and entwining their fingers. This gave him good access to kiss Jim's neck and shoulders--he couldn't quite reach Jim's mouth because of the disparity in their height, but they'd work on that. For now, all he cared about was pumping in and out of that beautiful, hot ass.
His body trembled from the force of holding back his release, but he didn't want to come until he felt Jim begin. Blair increased the speed of his thrusts, grinding Jim down against the bed, upping the pressure against the other man's erection. Jim shouted his name and began shuddering. Blair felt the large body tighten around him, the muscles inside Jim clutching at his cock, drawing on it. He gave a loud wordless cry and erupted inside his lover.
"Morning, lover," he managed when he got his breath back.
"'Morning, yourself." Jim shifted his shoulders, and Blair bent and kissed them before rolling off him.
"God, what a wake-up!"
"Liked that, did you?"
"Mmhmm. Wow." Jim rolled his head on the pillow to look at Blair. His partner had his eyes closed, a grin on his face. "Looks like you enjoyed it too, babe."
"Oh, yeah. I haven't topped in a while. S'not the same with women..."
"I know, Chief." Jim ran a hand down Blair's chest before pulling the smaller man to him. "I love you."
"I love you. Wait a minute..." Blair wiggled out of his grasp and ran for the bathroom. Jim listened in amusement to the sounds of his lover brushing his teeth. He reappeared a moment later and crawled back into bed, taking up the same position he'd been in. "So, where were we?"
Jim shook his head. "What was that all about?"
"Well, let's think about where my mouth was recently...and I'd really like to kiss you good morning. Okay?"
"Oh, yeah," Jim managed before Blair claimed his mouth.
It was a lot later before they climbed out of bed that morning.
Sunday 5/25
Blair was as close to being a nervous wreck as Jim had ever seen him. He'd gotten worse during the week, the closer they got to "E" Day, as Jim was calling it now.
Right now he was pacing the floor of his office, muttering, as Jim, Michael and Jarvis watched in amusement. In his hand was a checklist with so many scribbles and scrawls Jim was having trouble believing he could still read it.
Jim watched his lover, but he was also watching Blair's *former* lover as well, as discretely as he could manage. Apparently he wasn't being as discrete as he thought though, since Jarvis kept shooting him his own looks. He finally couldn't stand it any longer and asked Jarvis if he wanted to go with him and get them all some coffee from the machine in the hall. Blair had run out a few hours ago before and no one had made the trip yet to get any more.
"Sure, Jim. Michael--coffee or coke?"
Michael looked up from his own notepad. "Coke, hon. Thanks."
"Chief?"
"Huh? Oh, um, coke I guess, please. Black."
Jim bit his lip to keep from laughing. The day Blair Sandburg drank coke was the day he'd start smoking. And obviously he was getting his beverages mixed up. "You mean coffee, black, right?"
Blair looked up distractedly. "Yeah, that's what I said. Coffee, black."
"Right. C'mon, Jarvis."
Jarvis leaned against the wall next to the coffee machine. "So, what can I do for you, Jim?"
'What am I doing? What can I gain by asking this guy this?' "I was just wondering--" Shit. "What you and Blair were to each other. I know you were lovers--Blair told me that."
"But you want details, right?" Jarvis shifted, leaning back further against the wall. Jim took up the same pose next to him.
"Well, not details. Just...a little more information."
"Why?"
"I guess I'm trying to figure him out. In some ways he's an open book for me. In other areas he's...not closed, exactly, just--"
"Harder to read."
"Exactly."
Jarvis sighed. "We really did meet during our freshman year here. And we became lovers the year after that." Jarvis tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Man, I was crazy in love with that boy for forever. Or it seemed like it, anyway. 'Course, it's hard to tell sometimes when you're eighteen if it's love or lust. It was probably a combination of the two. Anyway, Blair had never had a male lover. He'd kissed guys before and I think he told me once he'd jerked off with a cousin behind his uncle's barn. But that was it."
"You were his first, then."
"Yeah. Not that I was *that* much more experienced; I'd had one real affair, before college. Everything else was like Blair--hit and miss, here and there. Difference between me and Blair is that he likes women too, and he had quite a bit of *general* experience, from that. But he told me once, early on, that he knew there was more out there and he wanted to experience as much as he could. Blair is one of those true bisexuals: he accepts a person based on who they are, not what their gender is."
"So why didn't you two stay together?"
"It wasn't right--not for him. I mean, he loved me in his own way, but he wasn't *in love* with me. That's the difference, you know. Most people love lots of people. Not everyone gets to be in love with someone."
"And you were in love with Blair?"
"For a while. Man, you should have seen him then." Jarvis looked at Jim, and the older man got the feeling he was being assessed. "He was smaller than he is now--Blair's filled out over the years. He's the same height, I guess, but he was a skinny little thing then. Hair was a lot shorter too. I'm not sure when he started to grow it...but it wasn't that first year. And he was so *serious*."
"Blair? Sandburg?"
"Yeah, hard to believe, isn't it? Not serious in a bad way, but man, the kid was a *nerd*. But a *cute* nerd." Jarvis laughed. "I took one look and fell in love with him. Took him a while longer to decide that he wanted a relationship with me that went beyond just being friends, or kissing. We'd make out for hours, then he'd go back to his dorm, and I'd go to bed and dream about him..."
Jim watched Jarvis carefully. "So when did he decide he was bisexual?"
Jarvis shrugged. "I think he always knew it, he just hadn't had much of a chance to act on it. Have you ever met Naomi? Blair's mom?"
Jim closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah--a couple of times now."
"Well, Naomi moved them around a lot. So here's young Blair, on the threshold of discovering his sexuality, only his mom never stayed put in one place long enough for him to make friends, much less anything else. I think I was his first serious affair because he was here long enough for us to become friends first."
"We were friends first," Jim said quietly. 'There's a message in here somewhere, I know there is.' "I love him, Jarvis. I'm *in* love with him. What I feel for him is so strong it scares me sometimes."
"Just go with it, man. Blair won't hurt you--he'd never hurt you. You mean too much to him."
"Did he hurt you?"
"Not intentionally. I wasn't right for him and he knew it, but it took him a while to work up the courage to tell me."
"How'd you guys stay friends?"
Another shrug. "I don't know. It just seemed important, so we did. But I'll tell you, his friendship meant more to me even than sleeping with him did--more than most people's friendship does."
"Why's that?"
"'Cause he only calls a few people *friend*. Most are just acquaintances, or people he dates. Listen to him sometime. He'll talk about 'this guy I know', or 'this girl I've been seeing', or 'an acquaintance of mine'...but rarely does he say friend. When Blair gives his heart, he gives it completely."
Jim searched the other man's face, one more question he wanted to ask burning in his mind. He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. Jarvis seemed to understand though what he needed to know and responded quietly, "He never told me he loved me, Jim."
Jim felt himself sag against the wall in relief. "Thank you."
They returned to the office then, coffee and cokes in hand, and a little more peace in Jim's heart.
"It's after eight, Chief. Let's call it a night."
"But--"
"You're not going to get anything else done as long as you're tired--and I know that everything is under control anyway."
"How can you know that? *I* don't even know that."
"Sure you do." Jim stepped behind his lover and gently massaged the tight muscles in his shoulder. "Babe, you feel like you've got wood under your skin. C'mon, let's go home."
Michael and Jarvis had left several hours ago, leaving Blair to finish up his 'last minute' list and Jim to watch him in equal parts amusement, love and concern.
Concern that he was pushing himself too hard, too fast. He'd seen a couple of winces that he was sure Blair thought he'd hidden. He probably would've, from the average person. But since he'd come 'online' a year and a half ago, Jim's life focused on *noticing*. He couldn't help it, it just happened. And he was noticing that his lover had had enough, even if he wasn't ready to admit it yet.
"Come on, Sandburg," he finally growled at him. "You're exhausted, you're hurting and you need to eat something besides junk."
Blair looked up at him from the papers spread over his desk. "What'd you have in mind, big guy?"
'God, does he have any idea how gorgeous he is with those glasses sliding down his nose? And his hair falling down like that...' Jim cleared his throat. "Get you home, get you some soup, get you in the tub..."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Would there be anything else to the 'Jim Ellison treatment for tired and tense grad students'?"
Jim crossed his arms across his chest as Blair began gathering up his papers. "Such as?"
"Oh, I don't know. Full body massage maybe?"
"Interior or exterior?"
"Wha--oh, interior, of course." Blair grinned, a wicked light gleaming in his eyes. Jim felt his body leap in reaction.
"Only if we get home, professor. Come on, lets get a move on."
"I'm coming, I'm coming."
'I could get used to this treatment,' Blair thought drowsily, a couple of hours later. Jim had taken him home, fed him, showered him (complete with a blowjob that had shorted out his brain), combed out his hair, then made love to him until they both melted.
"You asleep, Jim?"
"Almost," his lover mumbled. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I love you."
"Oh. I love you too, Blair."
There was a pause, then Blair asked, "Did you find out everything you wanted to know from Jarvis?"
Jim grew very still next to him. "How'd you know I...How'd you know about that?"
"We guides have our ways."
"Seriously."
"I am serious, man. You started giving him these *looks* right after they got there this afternoon. I figured it was only a matter of time. So, did you find out what you wanted to know?"
Jim rolled toward him and propped himself on an elbow. Blair raised a finger and traced his lips, and Jim kissed it briefly. "I don't know, babe. I don't know what I wanted to know...just to find out more about you, I guess. You're like an enigma to me sometimes. Almost like you--"
"Like I what?"
Jim sighed. "You're gonna laugh."
"I'll never laugh at anything you tell me--unless I know you're kidding around. Tell me." Blair rolled himself to face Jim.
"I sometimes feel like you're one of those faeries that you read about in fantasy novels. Like you sprang from the mist, fully grown, all-knowing. It's eerie, sometimes."
Blair was silent for a long moment, considering what Jim was telling him. "Why do you think that?"
"I don't know. You just seem so...*old*...for someone so young. No," Jim held a silencing finger to Blair's lips. "I know you're not *young*, you're not a child--I'm not trying to say you are. I'm more aware than most people how grown you are. But love, you come across sometimes as someone who's lived over and over again."
"I have. You know that."
"You've told me about the lives we've shared and a few other snippets from your regressions...but Blair, you--" Jim broke off, frustrated.
"*I'm* still *me*, still young...and definitely not a faerie." He snorted. "I'd never have pegged you as the fantasy novel type, Jim."
Jim smiled, although his eyes remained serious. "I haven't read any since probably junior high, but when I was a kid, once in a while I'd read one." He traced a finger down Blair's cheek. "I love you, you know. I was basically just looking for more information on you. You aren't the easiest person to get to know--"
"And you are?"
"--and Naomi didn't get very far in telling me stories that one time. I just wanted to know a little more about what makes Blair Sandburg who he is."
Blair moved his head so his mouth was just a fraction of an inch from Jim's, teasing. "Ask me anything you want, lover. I'll tell you..."
"God, Blair...Are you a sorcerer? 'Cause you've put a spell on me for sure."
Blair leaned in just a little more, until his lips were brushing Jim's. "Not a sorcerer...just someone who loves you very much..."
Their lips met and melded as they confirmed yet again what they felt for one another, and sleep was something that was forgotten for the moment.
Chapter 12
Monday, 5/26
"You look gorgeous, Chief." Jim surveyed his partner, eyes running up and down the lean form, as he struggled to get his tie done. Blair's tux fit perfectly, molding to his body and tight in all the right places. Blair had chosen a sapphire blue for tie and cummerbund, and they seemed to add to the sparkle and color of his eyes. He looked good enough to eat.
"Not lookin' too bad yourself, old man." Blair leaned back on the bed, trying to keep a grip on his libido. Jim's powerful body--a sight at any time--tucked into a tux that only emphasized his lines was a thing to behold. Jim had chosen classic black, stating that if he was going to dress up he might as well stick to the 'traditional' theme. That's when Blair had dubbed him 'old man'.
"I'll show you 'old man'," Jim growled as he stepped closer to the bed, intending to haul Blair up for a kiss.
Instead, Blair slid forward until his head was level with Jim's groin. He nuzzled around the rapidly heating flesh, noting with satisfaction that things were rising nicely. He breathed warm moist air onto the front of Jim's pants and smiled when his lover groaned, thrusting forward. He repeated the action once more, then suddenly found large hands tangled in his hair, pulling him upward for a hot, wet kiss.
Jim didn't release him until he'd caressed every square millimeter of Blair's mouth. He pulled away, leaving the younger man gasping for breath, his lips swollen and red.
"Jesus! Where'd that come from?"
"From this, you little tease," Jim gestured toward his erection. "We don't have time to do anything, and you know it."
Blair smiled provocatively, a 'come-hither' expression in his eyes. "Maybe we can work something in. Sex is good for nerves, y'know."
"You're nervous?"
The younger man sat back, running an impatient hand through his curls. Jim resumed his battle with his bow-tie. "Yeah. I don't know why--I know everything's taken care of. Still--I can't help it."
"You want everything to be perfect."
"Yeah."
"It will be, Chief. Trust me."
"I hope so." Blair glanced at the clock. "It's after seven, Jim. We need to get going."
"I know. You ready?"
"As I'll ever be. Let's go."
Jim gave up on the tie and tucked it into his pocket. He'd fix it when they got to the university.
The building was ablaze in light, a beacon in the darkness. Jim checked his watch as he pulled into the faculty parking lot. Quarter 'til eight. The exhibit gala opening was set for nine p.m. He shook his head as he pondered why people liked to do things like this so late. At nine o'clock at night, the only place he wanted to be was at home, lying on the couch or the bed with Blair either wiggling on top of him or sprawled beneath him, writhing in pleasure. He shook those thoughts off as his cock throbbed uncomfortably within the tight pants. Damn Sandburg for getting him hot and bothered like that. Well, he'd exact an appropriate revenge later.
He followed his Guide into the building, noting that the guards were stationed at the doors once again. 'Is the university ever going to get back to normal as long as this thing's here?'
Simon, Dr. Hathaway, Mitchell Parker, Jarvis and Michael were standing in a group looking at the Aten exhibit. He could smell and hear the caterers setting up the hors d'oeuvres and drinks in the conferencing area next door; smell the musty odor coming from the sarcophagus and its accoutrements; hear the faint sounds of the policemen stationed outside as guards. Blair touched his arm and he tuned back into reality.
Dr. Hathaway was going to give a short speech to the honored guests in the large conference room, before actually opening the exhibit to them. He, Blair, Michael and Mitchell Parker would circulate through the room to answer questions. Simon nodded to Jim and they left the room briefly to confer with the other police and detectives on security detail. Brown, Rafe, Jensen and Milson would be near each of the entrances, with uniformed guards circulating through the room. Brown rattled off the list, and Jim nodded approvingly--everything seemed to be covered.
At a quarter before nine the guests began arriving, and Jim heard the sudden spike in Blair's heartbeat. His respirations increased as well and the bigger man headed for his lover, concerned that he was going to start hyperventilating. Blair was standing near the door that led to the basement--locked for the moment so no one wandered where they shouldn't go--and looked up gratefully when Jim appeared and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You okay, Chief?"
A quick nod. "Just nervous. I don't know why, man, don't even ask. I'll just be glad when this night is over--although after everything that's happened, this seems almost anticlimactic, you know?"
"I do." Jim lowered his head slightly to whisper, "I'm here for you, baby. I love you." He grasped Blair's chin in one hand and held him for a gentle kiss, not caring if anyone--or everyone--saw him. When he released Blair the younger man's eyes were sparkling again.
"I love you too, Jim. Thanks."
"Heads up, Chief. It's time." Jim had been listening to the other side with his hearing extended, and knew that Dr. Hathaway was getting ready to make his speech. Blair nodded and slipped through the exhibit to the door hidden behind the partition. The one that had nearly cost him his life.
Jim sighed as he watched him go, eyes heating from the movement of Blair's ass and hips. A noise and the scent of cigars behind him alerted him to Simon's presence, and he turned to greet his captain.
"You really are in love with him, aren't you?"
Jim's eyes widened in surprise at the question. Simon had pretty much left that topic alone in the two weeks since he'd dropped the ball. "Yeah. I am. He makes me feel things, Simon--"
The older man held a hand up. "Please. I'm sure I don't want to know."
Jim raised an eyebrow. "Well, I wasn't going to share *those* with you--he just makes me feel happy. Loved."
"You look happy. I'm still trying to figure out what happened to the sullen Jim Ellison I knew a few years ago. I mean, you were making progress before, coming out of your shell after Carolyn...but you've really turned around in the last year or so."
"It's Blair, sir. He's the difference."
Simon shook his head. "Just try to keep it professional, okay?"
"Simon!"
The older man smiled. "Hey, I've gotta say *something*--the two of you throw off enough heat to start a bonfire."
Jim smiled in return, then turned as a noise caught his attention. Clapping. The speech was nearly over. "They're gonna be coming in a minute, sir."
The big man sighed. "I can't wait to have this over with."
"Me, too."
Blair settled into a chair at the very back of the conference room next to Michael and Jarvis. He smiled at his friends, then smiled more broadly as he thought about his *other* friend, waiting for him in the next room. Michael nudged him gently and whispered, "Get that shit-eatin' grin off your face, old son."
Blair grinned even harder.
He tuned the speech out, preferring to daydream about Jim and the twists and turns they'd undertaken in the last couple of months. 'It's funny--it all started with this. Who knows where we'd be without this exhibit?' He knew Jim had spent the last couple of months cursing the exhibit every time it was brought up in any way, but he suspected the detective had never looked at it from that angle. *Would* they have found each other, eventually, without the triggers? Going further with that line of thought: Would the triggers still have activated eventually, without the outside interference, like the costumes? Would he have had the dreams eventually, or were they *only* because of the triggers? He mused, 'I wonder how many people go through life never knowing they lived other lives because nothing ever triggers anything for them'; then made a mental note to ask Jim sometime about doing regression hypnosis with him.
Michael nudged him again and Blair noted with a start that he'd 'zoned', all through the speech. People were standing up and clapping, so he rose with them. He and Michael slipped away through the door again, before the doors were opened for the crowd to enter the Great Exhibit Hall.
He found Jim a little while later chatting with Jarvis, quietly surveying the area, senses obviously open and extended.
"Hey, lover," he greeted softly, knowing the sensitive hearing would catch it. "Hey, Jarvis."
"Hi, baby. How's it going?" Jim reached out and touched Blair's shoulder, just a soft quick caress.
"Fine. Everyone seems pretty impressed. There's been a crowd around the mummy since we opened the doors. I don't think Dr. H has stopped talking about it."
Jarvis grinned at that. "Well, you know that dead guys are always fascinating."
Blair snorted. "*I* personally don't think so." He cast a glance around the room. "Guess I better go mingle again." He squeezed Jim's arm lightly, then headed off into the crowd.
Jim watched him go with a thoughtful expression on his face. He'd been at half mast all evening, thanks to tight pants and Blair's teasing earlier, but that light touch on his arm just about did him in.
"Will you excuse me?" He turned to Jarvis, trying to be polite. Something made him figure that caveman manners wouldn't be good in this setting.
"Go get him, Jim." The younger man smiled at him, and Jim found himself very, very glad that the affair between Blair and Jarvis was a long time ago.
He caught up with Blair about ten minutes later, but it was another ten beyond that before his Guide was able to break away from the people and their questions. He took him by the arm and led him toward the far side of the hall to the door behind the Culloden exhibit. Extending sentinel senses to assure that no one was in the small hallway behind the door, Jim pushed it open and gently shoved Blair through.
"What's up, man?" Blair frowned a little. Jim had indicated it was urgent that he talk to him--but this was weird.
"I am," was the growled reply before Jim shoved him up against the wall, pining his wrists at his side and taking his mouth in a kiss that should have incinerated the building around them.
At some point Blair became muzzily aware of the fact that Jim had let go of his wrists, and was now keeping him against the wall simply by pressing against him with his body. Jim planted his hands firmly on the wall behind him and rubbed his large hot body slowly up and down his.
He wrapped his arms around Jim's neck and moaned into the mouth that was ravishing his. He'd never in his life been kissed so thoroughly--it was more like being tongue-fucked, he decided, as Jim alternated between sucking on his tongue and running his own around the inside of Blair's mouth, and making deep penetrating thrusts.
A hard thigh wedged its way between his legs, and Jim's knee began stroking against the erection that was now straining Blair's trousers. Jim brought his hands down at the same time and began cupping and kneading Blair's asscheeks, increasing the friction. And oh, god, it felt *good*! He rubbed himself shamelessly against Jim, desire surging up in a tidal wave.
Jim moved his mouth from Blair's and kissed a path across his jawbone to the sensitive skin behind his ear, nibbling and licking there. Blair groaned low in his throat and moved his head to give better access. When Jim swirled his tongue around the outer edge of his ear then sucked an earlobe in, Blair gave a barely stifled shriek.
The sound was what it took to break Jim's daze. "That's a good spot for you, isn't it?" he asked, breathing hard.
Blair nodded, unable to pull enough oxygen into his lungs to form an actual answer. He panted for several more moments before asking, "What the *hell* brought that on?"
"You did, Chief. You got me started earlier and I can't get thoughts of you out of my head."
"Man, you gotta cool it down! I have to go out there now like this--" Blair gestured to his pants, which were tented out.
Jim focused on Blair's crotch and could see the movements where his cock throbbed within its confinement. He felt his own cock pulse in response, and the heat in his body spiked again. He reached a hand down and rubbed the hard bulge in Blair's pants, taking care to keep his eyes locked on Blair's.
The younger man shivered as those long fingers trailed over his hard-on, squeezing gently, rubbing and pressing. God, he was going to die before this night was over, he knew it. A man could only stand just so much torture...
"Jim," he moaned, "Man, you're gonna have me comin' in my pants in a minute..."
Jim leaned in for another kiss, this one stealing Blair's breath away as well. The large hand continued to press and knead his erection and Blair sighed against the mouth that was devouring his, slipping his own hands down to cup Jim's ass and pull him closer. When Jim released him, he swayed dizzily for a minute before regaining his equilibrium.
"Can't have that now...But soon," the big man whispered to him.
He nodded, still dazed.
"Take the long way around, going back," Jim suggested, eyes still smoldering with love and unsatisfied lust.
Blair nodded again, moving away slowly, carefully.
"What time is this thing supposed to wrap up?" The voice spoke near his ear startling him, and Blair jumped.
"Hey, Simon. It was supposed to have been over at midnight," he stated morosely. "Guess everyone was having a good time."
Simon checked his watch. "Guess so. Did you know it's nearly one in the morning?"
Blair yawned. "Mmhmm. *Way* past my bedtime, man."
"I thought you stayed up all 'til all hours, Sandburg."
"Used to, man. Probably will again, someday. I've been sleeping a lot more lately." 'I've *been* up for hours,' Blair thought with yet another twinge from his groin.
"Your body's still healing."
"Yeah, that's what the doctor said. Still," his face cracked with another yawn, "I'd like to go home and crawl into bed."
Simon nodded. "Why don't you check with Dr. Hathaway? It's not like most of the guests are still in here anyway--they're in feeding their faces."
That was true enough. A smile spread across Blair's face, and Simon grinned at him. "Go on, Sandburg. And when you see Jim, tell him I said he could go home, too."
"Thanks, Simon." Blair gave him another grin, then moved off into the vast room.
It *was* late, and a lot of their guests had gone home. There weren't that many left and most of those were, as Simon had pointed out, feeding their faces. Blair found Dr. Hathaway and explained that he was feeling pretty exhausted and would like to go home and go to bed. Dr. Hathaway was happy to let him go; the kick-off to the exhibit had been so successful Blair figured that the scholar would probably be in a good mood for a month. Now, to find Jim...
His lover was stationed near the door leading to the conference area, studying the Culloden exhibit. In particular, studying the bayonet.
It had been seized by the police as evidence, but once it became clear that Sarina hadn't survived the shoot-out, and there were no other people to question, the lethal weapon had been released back into university custody. Michael had told Jim privately that he'd cleaned it himself and replaced it in the tableau.
"Hey, lover," Blair moved up alongside Jim and leaned against him.
"Hey, Chief. How you doin'?"
"Tired, man. I got permission for us to get out of here."
Jim turned toward him. "Really?"
"Yep. From my boss and your boss, both. Cool, huh?"
"Yeah. Ready to go then?"
"I need to get some stuff from my office first, but after that, yeah."
"Let's go then. I've got some things in mind for you before I let you go to bed."
"You mean sleep, right? It sounds like you're planning on taking me to bed."
"Yep, I meant sleep."
They left the exhibit through the small side door, and Jim followed Blair as he navigated several turns and twists to the main hallway.
The halls of the anthropology building, outside of the GEH, were dark and quiet, deserted. Jim pulled Blair into an embrace and kissed him deeply as soon as they were out of sight of the exhibit.
"God, I missed you tonight," he muttered as he ran his hands up and down Blair's body, lingering over his buttocks, smoothing up and down his back.
"Jim, we were in the same room all night," Blair gasped breathlessly. When had Jim acquired an extra set of hands? He rubbed his body hard against his Sentinel's and felt the older man's groan reverberate through his body.
"Yeah, and I couldn't touch you--not like this, anyway." He grasped two handfuls of curls and tilted Blair's head, searing the younger man's mouth with the heat of his. Lips met lips, then sucked and bit, a tongue flicking out to taste the beads of sweat that gathered there. Jim opened Blair's mouth with his own, his tongue searching relentlessly for hidden sweetness. He sucked on Blair's tongue, drawing it into his own mouth, biting down gently before releasing his lover.
Blair groaned as he submitted to the power and sensuality of that kiss. The sheer carnality of it was overwhelming, and he felt like his world was spinning out of control. He clutched Jim's shoulders and molded his body to the bigger one, hoping to stay above the wave that was threatening to engulf him.
Jim tore his mouth away from Blair's, a groan rising from his throat. "God, baby, I want you..."
"I want you too, lover...hang on a few minutes? Let me get my stuff and we'll go." Blair smiled raggedly at Jim, felt the hot eyes burning into him.
"Okay," Jim replied reluctantly, releasing his partner.
Blair didn't get very far from him before he was pulled back against the hard body, Jim rubbing his cock against Blair's ass.
"Can't do it, baby...can't wait. I have to have you..." A large hand snaked around to Blair's chest and undid a shirt button, worming its way inside the tux blouse. Jim combed his fingers through silky hair and felt something soft, yet hard brush against a fingertip. He rubbed it, and was rewarded by a low, throaty moan from Blair. The nipple responded to his caresses and budded beneath his fingers, inciting him to pinches and rough touches. Blair shuddered in his arms and pushed backward, rubbing his ass against the hard length throbbing behind him.
"My...office..." the younger man managed, gasping when he felt another shirt button being popped open. Jim's teeth were on his neck, and if he didn't get them inside he had a feeling his lover was going to take him here, on the hallway floor.
"Yes," Jim answered tersely. He released his hold on Blair enough so his Guide could lead him quickly down the hall.
They arrived at the office, but before Blair could open the door Jim turned him and slammed him up against it, claiming his mouth in another fiery kiss. He ran his hands down Blair's sides and around the curves of his ass, then reached underneath and picked the smaller man up, pressing him back further against the door.
"Put your legs around my waist," he growled in Blair's ear. Blair moaned but complied, wrapping his legs securely around Jim's waist, his mouth seeking out the pulse point in Jim's neck at the same time. "Ahh, yeah...oh, baby, suck it..." Jim twisted his head out of the way, encouraging Blair's efforts with groans and hot words. He reached a trembling hand out to the door. "Locked?" he managed.
"N-no.." Blair gripped Jim tighter with his legs, and began stroking his tongue up and down the corded muscles in Jim's neck.
Jim growled again and pushed the door open, noting the moonlight streaming through the window at the end of the small room. Blair's desk was straight in front of him. He moved purposefully toward it and sent everything on it to the floor with one savage sweep of his hand.
Blair was too far gone to even notice, his own body temperature so high now that he *had* to get relief or spontaneously combust on the spot. He moaned when Jim set him on the desk, the hardness of the wood biting into the sensitized flesh of his ass. Hard hands and fingers were suddenly all over him, pulling at buttons and zippers, undressing him as quickly as possible. He fumbled, trying to help, then decided to just stay out of the way, other than to lift his hips so Jim could slide his pants off. A couple of quick moves and Blair was sitting naked on his desk, stroking his engorged cock and watching Jim strip his own clothing off.
Hot lips attached themselves to his again, and Blair moaned as fingers skimmed down his body, stopping to pinch roughly at his nipples before continuing their journey. "So hot, so good," Jim muttered against his neck as those lips followed the fingers. Blair grasped Jim's head and held it tight to his chest as the older man worshipped his nipples, sucking and biting them before licking to soothe the sting.
Jim knelt before the desk, staring at Blair's cock, swollen and weeping...all for him. He leaned forward and licked the pre-come off the tip, savoring the taste. Another lick, and Blair was writhing above him. Jim ran his tongue up and down the long hard length several times before taking each of Blair's balls into his mouth to suck gently. The skin felt feverishly hot, but Jim figured it was still cooler than his own internal temperature. He continued downward, spreading Blair's legs apart, hands shifting his lover so he leaned back more. His hands kneaded and rubbed the hot silky flesh of Blair's ass while his mouth continued on, licking and kissing. He nipped at the insides of Blair's thighs, smiling against the skin when Blair cried his name, fingers clutching at the hair that was too short to grip.
"Please, oh, Jim...give it to me...I need you..."
"What do you want, baby," Jim asked, sucking on a finger.
"You...I need you...inside me, please...oh, GOD!..." The last word rose on a high pitch as Jim spread him open and licked slowly. Blair felt the world around spin drunkenly as Jim caressed him with his tongue, swirling it around the puckered rosette, wetting it thoroughly. Then Jim inserted his finger, gently pushing, gaining speed. Blair gasped and pushed back against it.
Jim licked the underside of Blair's balls and blew a gust of warm air across them, watched Blair quiver at the combination of sensations, pushing toward the finger impaling him.
"That's it baby," he whispered as he worked the finger. "Push yourself down..." He removed the finger, soothing Blair with gentle strokes on his cock as he groped for the now-abandoned tux jacket and the tube he'd brought.
"Ohmigod," Blair moaned as two slick fingers entered him. "Ohmigod, you planned this..." his body arched up, trying to push the fingers in deeper. Jim stood up, thrusting the fingers slowly.
"No...just thinking ahead..." he stroked his cock, then Blair's, then his again, feeling the fire growing in waves in his body. "Tell me what you want, baby."
"I want you to put your cock in me and fuck me...wanna feel you filling my ass...oh, god, Jim...ram it in and fuck my brains out...!"
Jim stroked the gel onto his cock and positioned it at the entrance to Blair's body. Blair pulled his legs back, spreading himself wide open for Jim to see. "Now..." he breathed, and pushed the breath from his body, relaxing. Jim grasp Blair's legs and thrust forward, sliding in to the root in one stroke.
"Oooooohhhhh...." Blair exhaled again, body clenching around Jim.
"You feel good, baby...tight, hot...I wish I could stay here forever...not move, just be here inside you, forever..." Jim leaned over Blair, nuzzling at his neck, sucking the soft skin there, whispering in his ear.
Blair moaned a wordless agreement, undulating his body under Jim's, relishing the feel of the hard, heated flesh inside him. Jim began to move inside him then, a slow, easy glide in and out. He held onto Blair's legs, thumbs caressing the skin there.
"Stroke yourself for me, baby...that's it...make yourself come for me...make yourself come while I fuck you..." Jim breathed the words, his stomach clenching at the beautiful sight of his lover caressing himself while he pumped in and out of Blair's body. "Yeah...do it, baby, do yourself...that's right...I'm gonna come inside you...feel me filling you?...I want you to come..." He was picking up speed and intensity, thrusting harder now, gaining momentum. Blair's hand moved faster, and his other hand rose to his chest, rubbing at his nipples. Jim groaned at the sight and leaned down to kiss him again.
They exploded together, consumed by the flames of passion, ignited by love. Blair's body tightened around Jim with his impending orgasm, sending Jim spiraling down into an abyss of pleasure as his body spasmed inside Blair's.
Jim picked Blair up off the desk, still semi-hard inside his lover, and slid them onto the floor with Blair cradled in his lap. They held each other, rocking slowly, caressing each other. Jim rained kisses over Blair's face; Blair stroked Jim's arms, shoulders, upper back.
"I love you so much, Blair...I could tell you a thousand times a day and still not have told you enough."
"Shhh...I understand, Jim. I feel the same way." He soothed his lover with soft kisses on his lips and cheeks, forehead and head.
"You've given me yourself, and in the process given me back *myself*. I feel like I'm whole again--like I never was before you..."
"It's okay, lover...I know, I do. I love you, Jim...I love you, I love you, I love you..." Blair punctuated each phrase with a soft kiss to Jim's lips, then leaned his head down onto the hard shoulder, resting there.
They sat there holding onto each other, until the chill of the night air finally forced them apart and up, to find their clothing and go home.
Tuesday, 5/27
"Check it out, man. We made the paper!"
Jim looked up from the file he was studying--Simon had given him a couple of new cases to look through when they'd been in to the station last week--and glanced at the Cascade Press. "Of course you did, Chief. You had the media there."
"Yeah, I know. But I didn't expect to make the front page of the Entertainment and Arts section."
"How long's the exhibit going to run, anyway?"
Blair sat down at the table. "Umm...six months, I think. I don't know--I never did manage to think that far ahead. Why?"
"Just wondering when we could have the farewell party for the king."
Blair grinned at his lover. Earlier this morning, after they'd both had a chance to sleep and come down from their emotion and sex high of last night, he'd shared with him his thoughts about how the exhibit had brought them together.
"I'll check my notes, man. Let you know."
"You do that."
Jim went back to his file, and Blair turned his attention to reading the article, turning the page to see the photo spread.
"Oh, *man*..." he breathed, not quite believing he was seeing what his brain said he was looking at.
Jim looked up at the tone. "What?"
"Take a look!"
He looked. Right there on page two of the Entertainment and Arts section for the Cascade Press was a black and white photo of him and Blair, holding hands, with Jim leaning to whisper in Blair's ear.
"I don't even remember any photographers *near* us last night," Blair was saying, pacing the floor now. "Man, this sucks."
"Why?"
That brought Blair up short. "What?"
"I asked, 'why'. As in 'why does this suck'?"
"Well, you know. 'Cause like now the whole world knows about us. Or at least most of Cascade does."
"It's okay, babe."
"It is?" Blair ran a hand through his hair and narrowed his eyes. "Okay, who are you...and where's *my* Jim? C'mon, man, this is serious."
"It may have repercussions, yeah, but I don't care, Blair. I. Don't. Care. Got it? I want the world to know I'm in love with a wonderful man--with *you*."
"Oh, man. Are you sure, Jim?"
"Positive. You and me, together forever, babe. This is the only way."
"Wow." Blair paused next to Jim's chair. "I love you."
Time froze for a long moment as Blair's smoky-blue gaze met and held Jim's clear blue one. Thousands of words, feelings, thoughts were exchanged between the two in that brief span; past and present met and melded, and the future hung before them. Jim reached out and grasped Blair's hand.
"I love you now and I'll love you forever, Blair. Time and again."
Finis
[Prologue to Chapter 6] [back] [email]