Disclaimer: Children, what are you doing in here? Get out of here! It features angst, demons, angels, and entertaining graphic sexual descriptions of men both obsessed and in love doing terribly erotic things to each other. If you don’t like that sort of stuff, or know you are too young for it, please visit www.bozlo.com and let him make fun of you for me. Oh, and I don’t claim to own Jim Ellison or Blair Sandburg, or any of the other recognizable characters; I’m just borrowing them for a little storytelling. They are all owned by UPN and Pet Fly Productions, and they can have them back when I’m done. I do however, own most of the other named characters (particularly the person calling himself Mason), and those who are desperate to know how the angels and demons got in here are respectfully pointed to www.sjgames.com/in-nomine/. I promise not to do any permanent damage to the people I don’t own, but everyone else is fair game. I do, however, promise to abuse my overactive sexual imagination. Enjoy.
Send comments to the address above. Or the little dog gets it.
“Blair, you know that I’m a very bad person, don’t you?”
A scared seventeen-year old Blair was sobbing into Mason’s chest. “You’re good to me! Why do you have to go?”
Mason pulled him closer, and tried to soothe him in a way that belied his earlier statement. Very bad people did not try to calm scared little boys that they barely knew. They abused them, and then they left them. Blair knew about very bad people, and they wouldn’t be crying, like Mason was. He didn’t want to leave Blair.
“Blair, if I stay here, you’ll get hurt. There are people after me. I have to go.” Mason kissed Blair’s hair, then his forehead. “Don’t cry so, I’ll see you again.”
Blair dug his fingers into Mason’s leather jacket. “No, I want you to stay, I don’t care!”
Mason raised Blair’s head and kissed him on the lips for the first time since they had met four months ago. Blair responded with all the passion he had kept hidden since that day. Mason pulled away sharply, as if with his last shred of self-control, but still hovered close to Blair. He pulled Blair’s hands away, and shrugged off his jacket. “Here. Keep this for me,” he whispered against Blair’s lips, “and when I see you again, maybe you’ll have something to give me.”
Blair stared into Mason’s silver-blue eyes as he accepted the jacket, but he had no more words. Mason was going to leave him.
“Go as you will,” Mason whispered, drawing a long, elegant finger across Blair’s lips, “and may no harm come to you from it.” His farewell said, Mason disappeared into the alley.
So many years had passed. Years with grief kept in check first by the comfort of having a talisman to remember him by, and then eased by the weakness of human memory. Until today.
“Do you need help with that?” said a gently sardonic, but unbelievably familiar voice. And Blair looked up from the dropped class notes to see Leland Mason McSheehan’s beautiful silver-blue eyes gazing patiently at him. And the pain, and the passion, and the need came back to him as if it were only yesterday. He threw himself at the man, seeking his lips and finding heaven instead.
Blair didn’t notice the students carefully walking around them, not stepping on his papers, and deliberately not seeing their professor and the handsome stranger standing in the middle of the hallway making out in the middle of the day. Blair only noticed the matching hunger in Mason’s kiss, the strong arms almost lifting him from the floor, and the lean hardness cradling him close.
“Hello, Blair,” laughed Mason when they finally came up for air. “It’s good to see you again.” He hugged Blair tight, but didn’t let him go.
“Mason, what- how- oh,” Blair gave up on coherent speech, and kissed him again. A student, seeking brownie points and hallway safety, finally piled all of Blair’s notes at his feet and ran off.
Mason laughed again. “I looked up your mother, and she told me where to find you.” Another kiss settled them firmly into each other’s arms. “Have you heard about that new floating casino that all the city mothers and fathers are up in arms over?”
“The Star of Vegas? Who hasn’t? Are you working there?”
“Sort of. I own it.” At Blair’s shock, Mason couldn’t help but laugh again. “Never let anyone tell you crime doesn’t pay.”
“Don’t say that to my partner. Roommate. Jim. Okay, let me start this again,” said Blair, giggling. “Did Naomi tell you about Jim? My roommate?”
“A little,” said Mason cautiously. “She mentioned you were living with someone.”
“Detective Jim Ellison, Cascade PD,” said Blair brightly. “He let me stay with him when we first met, since I couldn’t afford my own place and I was helping him with some police stuff. Now, I’m an official police observer and we work together.”
“Still haven’t found your own place?”
Blair looked embarrassed. “I kinda stopped looking. I like living with Jim, we’re really good friends.”
Mason raised an eyebrow. “How close are you?”
“You’re jealous!” Blair laughed. “No, nothing like that. I have a crush on him, though. We talked about it, and he’s not interested in me that way.” Such a simple sentence, but neither man acknowledged the depths that it held.
“Whew,” sighed Mason in mock relief. “So the way is clear for me to sweep you off your feet.” Mason took advantage of Blair’s closeness and their position to do just that, dipping Blair with a romantic flourish. “Forget this ‘Jim,’” he said theatrically, “I am here, just as I promised all those years ago!” Blair giggled at his outrageous behavior, but then Mason kissed him in total seriousness.
Blair pulled away slightly from the kiss. “I have something to give you,” he whispered in Mason’s ear. “Something I’ve dreamed about giving you for,” he thought for a second, “just over ten years.”
Mason practically purred as he kissed Blair again. “Are you done with classes today, Professor? Would you like to see my ship?”
“I’ll cancel my next class,” promised Blair, “as soon as you let go.” With a sigh, Mason released him and let him run down to his office. Mason leaned against the wall and waited for Blair to return.
Blair went to his classroom, and left a message on the board for his class before rejoining Mason. They collected Blair’s papers and then walked out to the parking lot. “Is that your car?” Blair looked at the Lexus, trying to place it from all the ads he’d seen on television. “What model is it?”
“A special limited edition,” Mason answered. “I had it made when I was in Paris.”
“Wow. Crime really does pay.” Blair admired the sleek black automobile. “How does it handle?”
“Like a dark dream. Wanna drive?” Mason offered, and handed over the keys.
Blair’s bright blue eyes opened wide. “Can I really?” Mason nodded, and Blair eagerly took the keys and hopped into the car. It started easily, and Blair could tell he was in for a truly exhilarating driving experience. He pulled out of the parking lot, and sped off the campus.
“Do you need directions to the harbor?”
“Nope, I’m just going to head for the water, and then follow the news cameras and the protestors.”
“That sounds about right,” Mason laughed. “Let’s go!”
The drive to the harbor wasn’t long enough to get the need to speed out of Blair’s system. He made a mental promise to himself to borrow Jim’s badge for the next time he was going to take Mason’s car for a spin.
“Welcome aboard The Star of Vegas!” Mason gleefully announced. “This is the Steward, Dale. Dale, this is Blair. Anytime he comes aboard the ship, he is to be treated like royalty, only better.” The steward nodded silently. “And, Dale, there is nothing important enough to disturb me from now until tomorrow morning except the Arrival of the Christ, do you understand?” The steward laughed quietly, but bowed deeply to cover it.
Blair was awestruck. “This thing is huge!”
Mason had built the ship from the ground up to recall Las Vegas in the early days, with all the amenities of the nineties, and a touch of timeless opulence to top it all off.
“There are fifteen staterooms, for special guests, six gambling rooms, three card rooms, two stages, and one ballroom.” Mason led Blair through the three floors of the Star, showing off his creation, not rushing him but not lingering in any of the rooms. “The staterooms are good enough for royalty, but this,” he pushed open the double solid oak doors, “is my room.”
It was large and comfortable, completely at odds with the wealth and decor just outside the solid doors. It was quiet, too. Mason had probably soundproofed the room. There was a living room, a study, and a bedroom. Blair walked up to Mason’s desk and picked up the deck of cards that he knew would be there. Mason followed silently, but stood in the doorway and watched Blair.
“Do you still cheat at cards?” Blair asked.
“Not professionally.”
“So, where did you get the money for all this?”
Mason exhaled slowly. “Is it really important? Of course it is.” He rolled his eyes at his own stupid question. “Sit down, pet, this is going to take a while.”
Blair obeyed, gracefully sitting down at the desk after turning the chair to face Mason.
“Okay, when I met you, I was still mostly just a small-time card sharp. I’d never done more than cross paths with some really nasty people. Some of them were smuggling arms in and out of the country, and suddenly needed a new gobetween. I got the job. I didn’t like the merchandise, but the money was too good to walk away from.” He shrugged to show that he knew his morals were lacking. “So I got into that end of the business, and just tried not to think too hard about where my money came from. I didn’t have any use for it, really. I just saved it up, when I wasn’t giving it to you.” Mason smiled at the memories, and so did Blair. “Then the feds tracked down one of the people I was working for, and they set me up to go down instead of them. That’s when I took off.” Blair did no more than take a deep breath when Mason said that, but he could still feel the pain and the fear of being abandoned. Mason closed his eyes against the pain on Blair’s lovely face, and continued. “I was on the run for a little while, and I ended up leaving the country. While I was in England, I had a terrible time with the authorities. Finally, someone offered me a chance to get the hell out of the business by selling out my former associates.” Mason pulled a deck of cards from his coat pocket, and idly rifled through his cards. “I always had these to fall back on. I got shipped back to the States, and I found that what I knew was worth even more than I thought it was, even though I couldn’t testify personally. They offered me straight cash for my information, and I found I had enough to buy a dream: the Star.” He smiled softly. “And the Star brought me to you. Gambling is all I know, Blair, until love becomes a paying job.”
“Wow.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“Pretty much. You so need to work on your moral development,” Blair stood and walked until he was close enough to Mason to feel the heat coming from him. “And why did you bring this huge ship here?”
Mason groaned deep in his throat. Blair looked even more beautiful now than he had at seventeen. Wise and gentle, with lips made for kissing and a body made for love. “I told you I would see you again. I wanted to see you again.”
“See?” said Blair teasingly.
“No, not just see,” he admitted.
Blair leaned in the doorway opposite Mason. “Are you going to me make take the first step? I’m overage now. You can seduce me if you want to.”
“Oh, I want to,” Mason growled. “Do you want me to? Because you’re doing a damn good job of seducing me all by yourself.” Blair smiled at that, and Mason decided he’d had enough. “In fact, you win. You’ve successfully seduced me, you can have your way with me now. The bedroom is that way.”
Blair laughed, and took one of Mason’s hands in both of his and walked into the bedroom. It was a neat and comfortable room, decorated only by a haphazard collection of books on architecture, business, and shipbuilding, new and used decks of cards, and hanging on the wall, the schematics of “The Star of Vegas.” It was big enough for a couple, but Mason’s mess made it look well lived in.
Blair sat down, and pulled Mason to sit on the bed next to him. Mason looked only a few years older than Blair. There were no traces of grey in his shoulder-length dark brown hair, and no wrinkles besides slight laugh lines around his startling silver-blue eyes. He’d looked about the same when Blair had first met him, or rather, when Mason had first gotten between Blair and one of Naomi’s more unsavory friends. There was nothing of the “knight in shining armor” image around Mason; he fought dirty and didn’t care about collateral damage. He’d been laughing, in fact, when he threw the man out of the bar, but had taken the time to calm the battered young boy and then had walked him home. Light and dark, that was Mason. He would do the right thing for absolutely the wrong reasons, or for no reason at all. He had never said openly why he had helped Blair, taught Blair how to drive, given Blair money for school, but every action spoke volumes to the young boy who had always been starved for love as well as attention.
But the most important thing Mason had ever done was say “No.” That was the reason that Blair was here, letting himself regain the connection that time had dulled only slightly. Not a knight, but a true hero. A hero whose love and devotion were a greater treasure than any Blair had ever dared for, and Blair longed to give him his reward. There was no fear of rejection here, no fear of failure; just time and burning longing. Not nearly enough to keep them apart.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” whispered Blair.
Mason smiled. Trust Blair to call forth such a memory. But this time, the answer would be different, for a hundred reasons that this beautiful young man would never know. “Yes,” he said. “Oh, yes.”
Mason took Blair’s head in his hands, letting his fingers tangle in the dark, curly hair, and kissed him. Blair didn’t normally kiss people, for exactly this reason. It was too intimate, too special. This was a kiss that had been saved for years, for just the right moment. Right now was that moment.
I almost sent praise to the Highest, I was so overwhelmed by the beauty I now held in my hands. Luckily, I remembered in time that no one in the Upper Echelons would thank me for what I was about to do, and quite a few of the Higher Powers were going to be very, very angry. So instead I smiled, and told him how beautiful he was. Blair is intense when he smiles openly. Normally, he guards his smiles, hiding his pleasure behind the shields his life has grown around him. But I can get through those shields easily. I earned my place there ten years ago, and no Power can keep me out now.
So I took advantage of my position, undressing him like a doll, letting him rip my clothes off in his passion. I drank in the sight and the feel of him, running my hands along his lightly furred chest, letting him stroke my smooth and hairless one. I kissed him until he was breathless, and I wasn’t much better.
Perfect and beautiful, that is the essence of Blair. I kissed every inch of him, from head to toe, and back again. I went down on him, and made him come screaming in my mouth, then kissed him on the lips again, so that he could taste himself on my lips. He pushed me down, and did the same for me. He’s good, for someone so young. I let my hands rest gently in his hair, tangled in his lovely curls, and watched his head going back and forth on my cock as I leaned against the wall in my bedroom.
He pulled away, and slid up my body, kissing and licking all the way up to my mouth. “Take me,” he whispered, rubbing his newfound erection against me. The wonders of youth. We shifted position, so that he could lean against the porthole and watch the waves outside. I found some lubricant, and gently worked it into him with my fingers, and prepared myself as well. I pushed into Blair, and he moaned eagerly, but clearly wasn’t ready. I stroked his back, and gave him time to adjust to me, whispering words of need while I waited. He pushed back, just as desperate as I was, and we began to move together.
Oh, had it really been so long? I had been waiting for this, practicing unfamiliar abstinence while I hungered to find my way to the arms of this beautiful man. And now I was here, in that tight heat, listening to him beg for more, beg for me. Nothing is more wonderful, I know this, because I have done it all. I touched and kissed Blair everywhere I could reach, trying to let him know how much I needed him, watching while he stroked himself in front of me. He was going crazy, arching back into me, screaming as he came, and we thoroughly fucked each other. I came inside him, so hard that my knees buckled, and I pulled him down on top of me.
I lay down on the floor, and pulled him over me so that I could lick him clean. He shuddered at the attention, still painfully sensitive, but soon he started to respond, and by the time I was finished rimming him, his cock was ready for more serious attention. This time, he positioned himself over me so that he could reach my cock at the same time. His tongue whipped over my cock, and he did something with his tongue at the base that made me thrust up into his mouth in surprise. I’d forgotten about that trick. I pushed him off me, and whispered softly, “My turn. Fuck me, Blair.”
He smiled, and picked up the lubricant from where I had dropped it earlier. I put one leg up, over his shoulder, and let the other sprawl carelessly on the floor, opening myself for him. He stared into my eyes, and one heavily lubricated finger slid into me. I smiled back at him, and arched into it. It had been a long time, almost too long. He took his time with me, fingering me long enough to get me to whimper in need. Finally, he showed mercy, and put his cock where his fingers had been. He wanted to take it slowly, but I wasn’t in the mood. “Harder,” I demanded, and got what I wanted, fucked wildly by Blair, who wasn’t really paying attention through the haze of hormones and desire that was swirling around him. Just the way I liked it. He came first, and brought me off with his hand.
We were both too tired after that to do more than stagger to the bathroom and rinse off before falling into bed together to sleep. I woke up at some point in the night to find myself wrapped protectively around him. I got up in irritation and took a quick shower to clear my head before going back to sleep, on my own side of the bed this time, and let him cling to me.
Jim decided to surprise Blair by meeting him at the University and taking him out for dinner. They’d been uneasy around each other since Blair had come out to Jim, and confessed his feelings. Jim still wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to lose his Guide. So they were going to sit down, and talk, preferably over a nice dinner at a decent restaurant. Or maybe just pizza. Jim was so absorbed in trying to figure out what he wanted for dinner that he almost walked into Blair’s locked office door.
Locked? Where was Blair? Jim distinctly remembered seeing the little Corvair in the parking lot. He looked around. No sign of foul play, his first guess. Then he noticed how quiet it was. He checked his watch. Shouldn’t the students still be milling around?
Jim walked down to Blair’s classroom. It was totally empty, and the board had a message on it: “Playing Hooky. XOXOX, Prof. Sandburg” Jim stared at the board. Playing hooky? With who? And how had he gotten there without his car?
Jim swore under his breath. Of course, this would happen today. Jim had finally gotten up the courage to talk to Blair, and Blair ran off to have fun, of all things. Jim sighed and walked back to his car. The talk would have to wait, he guessed.
Jim returned to the loft to find a gleeful message from Blair on the machine. “Hi, Jim! I’m not going to be home until late.” In the background, Jim could hear an unknown male voice say too softly for anyone without Sentinel hearing to hear, “really late, like tomorrow,” and then Blair shushed him, but amended his sentence to say, “really late, so I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Are we still going to the station? You’ll have to drive, I left my car at the university. So don’t leave without me, okay? Bye, Jim! Have a fun evening!”
Jim frowned. Knowing Blair’s knack for getting into trouble, Jim didn’t like knowing Blair was out with someone he didn’t know and had never met. Something about the voice in the background also bothered him. He replayed the tape a few times, but the answering machine wasn’t clear enough for him to really hear it. Jim didn’t want to try too hard, not without Blair to bring him back. He finally gave up and left it alone.
Jim ordered some Chinese food and settled himself on the couch for an evening of Jet Li movies from his collection. Despite his secret hopes, the phone didn’t ring again, and after watching “My Father is a Hero,” and “Fists of Legend” (parts I and II), Jim cleaned up and went to bed. He fell asleep while waiting to hear Blair’s heartbeat return to his range of hearing, and woke up to his alarm. Jim got out of bed and got ready to face the day. Maybe he’d be able to talk to Blair over the weekend.
Mild irritation turned to equal parts of worry and annoyance by the time he heard Blair’s familiar steps coming up to the loft. When Blair opened the door, the odor sailed unerringly over to assault Jim’s hypersensitive nose. Something very like burnt cinnamon, semen that wasn’t Blair’s, mixed perfectly with Blair’s scent. He’d smelled the burnt cinnamon scent before, faded but still present, and he was trying to remember where he had smelled it before when Blair’s worried voice cut through his concentration.
“Jim? Are you all right? Come back to me, man.” Blair had walked closer, making the problem worse. Now Jim could smell it clearly, and was having trouble breathing without gagging.
“You didn’t shower.”
Blair blushed, “I did! But if its bothering you, I guess I should take another quick rinse, huh?”
Jim blinked, trying to clear his thoughts. Blair grabbed some clean clothes from his room and practically ran into the bathroom. Jim could hear a car with a powerful engine pull away, and guessed that Blair’s friend was gone. Some fact was now trying to get his attention. Blair had showered, he could smell the lavender and chemicals from the soap and Blair’s hair was still wet. So how could Jim still smell the other man so clearly?
Jim had started moving before the answer had finished forming in his mind. He burst into the bathroom, barely noticing that Blair was half-naked and very surprised. “You didn’t use protection! Blair, how could you do something so stupid?” demanded Jim.
Blair looked confused, then shocked. His heart rate accelerated, and Jim could tell Blair was disturbed. “Get out,” he said flatly.
“Blair! Answer me!”
“I’m not discussing it with you.” Blair was getting angry now. He wrapped a towel securely around his slim hips, and faced Jim. “I’m trying to use the bathroom. And listen carefully because I am only going to say this once: It is none of your business. I’m not responsible to you for my sex life, regardless of how stupid any of my actions are.”
Jim heard the bitterness and knew he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere. This was not going well. “I didn’t mean to yell. I certainly don’t think you’re stupid.”
“Good,” Blair snapped, cutting Jim off. “Now get out and let me take my shower.”
“I’m your friend,” Jim said carefully. “I care about you, and I don’t want to see you hurt. I’d hope that you would tell me if I were doing something careless or dangerous, instead of standing by and watching me. That’s what I’m trying to do here.”
Blair set his jaw stubbornly. “Thank you for caring, hetboy,” he snarled. “But I think you crossed the line a few minutes ago. Who I fuck and how I fuck them, is, I repeat, none of your business. If you don’t like the way I act, throw me out.”
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Jim still didn’t feel safe enough to talk, and instead turned and left the bathroom. Blair locked the door as soon as Jim was gone and started his shower.
I felt a rush of energy flow through me. That little trick had worked then; Blair and his friend Jim were fighting, because of me, and I not only earned major points with the Prince of Factions, but got some extra energy in the bargain. I grinned in delight. This was all working out wonderfully. I had my ship, I had my servants, and I had a plan.
My Prince had given me one more chance to stay on his good side, despite my unfortunate weakness for humans. The word we use for ‘human’ means ‘jewel’ in our tongue. That’s how we think of them. Precious, rare, coveted, valuable...beautiful. Jewels. That’s how I thought of Blair; he was a jewel, and I was going to give him the right setting. So it didn’t matter that I was going to destroy his relationship with Jim; that it would benefit me with my Prince or any of the others I was working with was only secondary. I was going to keep this jewel, no matter what the cost.
Blair was trembling under the pounding stream of water, curled into a ball in the corner of the shower. What had just happened? Had he really just said those horrible things to Jim? He reached down, touching himself gently between his legs with a shaking hand. There was a wetness there that had nothing to do with the water. He was always so careful, how had that happened? He could see it clearly, Mason undressing him, running his slender hands over every inch of Blair’s hungry body, swallowing Blair whole, and then the act itself. Mason working himself slowly into Blair, every stroke another touch of heaven and hell, hot and wonderful. Just thinking of it made Blair hard again, despite his terror and confusion.
He’d just placed his life in Mason’s hands. But wasn’t that what he wanted? And why had he been so angry with Jim for showing that he cared? Wasn’t that too what he wanted? Blair stood up, and got out of the shower. He needed to talk to Jim, now.
He pulled on his bathrobe and opened the door. The loft was empty. Jim was gone. Blair sank to the floor in shock. Not alone. He couldn’t take being alone right now. He picked up the phone and called the number Mason had given him last night.
“Hello, love,” said Mason with an almost unbearable smugness in his voice.
“How’d you know it was me?” demanded Blair.
“You’re the only one who has this number, pet. And I just won a bet with Dale. He didn’t think you’d call so soon after I dropped you off.”
Blair smiled weakly as he heard coins changing hands. “Why did you think I would?”
“I think I’m irresistible! Besides, I would have called you. So, what’s up?”
Blair sighed. “I had a fight with my roommate, and he left without me. So now I’m stuck here.”
Mason gasped, and it warmed Blair to hear the heartfelt sympathy in his voice. “Was it about... last night?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” Mason said softly. “Do you want to come over and talk? Oh, damn.” snarled Mason suddenly. “I’m swamped with meetings until lunch. Look, why don’t I send Dale over with a car? He can drive you around for a few hours, and we can meet somewhere for a bite to eat, okay?”
“That sounds great!” Blair brightened up quickly. “I don’t have any classes today, and I guess Jim doesn’t need me at the station,” he added bitterly.
“So, you’re free all day. Sit tight, and Dale will be over in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” It will all work out, Blair thought. When I see Mason, we’ll sit down and talk, and then sometime this weekend, I’ll sit down with Jim and we’ll have a real talk. This will all work out, he promised himself.
Blair dried himself and got dressed. True to Mason’s promise, Dale arrived in a few minutes in a long black limousine. Blair grinned. Would Mason ever stop spoiling him? I hope not, Blair decided. Blair jumped in the back of the limo, and sprawled comfortably all over the empty seat. “Hello!” he chirped as Dale lowered the separating window.
“If you have no other plans, sir,” said Dale politely, “Mason suggested that you could go shopping for something to wear to the casino’s opening. He sent some funds for that purpose, and said he’d call when he’s ready for lunch.” Dale handed an envelope over to Blair.
Blair sat up. Shopping? What a wonderful idea. He checked the envelope. “Wow!” Three thousand dollars? “Yeah, I think I could find something to wear with this. Do you know how to get downtown from here?”
“Yes, sir,” Dale nodded, and began driving.
Blair laughed. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ I’m not that much older than you.” Blair looked carefully at the driver. He had nondescript down perfectly: brown hair, brown eyes, light brown skin, indeterminate racial makeup. “In fact, I may not be older than you.”
“I call you sir because I respect anyone Mason trusts enough to drive his car,” Dale smiled.
“Oh? How many people get to drive his car?”
“Counting you? Two.”
Blair smiled. “And the other would be?”
“Mason himself, sir.”
And then Blair really smiled, lighting up the car with his happiness.
Jim gritted his teeth, and pushed the memory of Blair coming home smelling like someone else’s property away for the hundredth time. The smell of burnt cinnamon mixed with semen and Blair still filled his overly sensitive nose. Jim tried to concentrate on finishing his paperwork, but instead, his mind was still trying to place that smell.
Finally, it came to him. Blair had an old leather jacket that he wore when it was too cold, and he was feeling depressed and lonely. He said an old friend had given it to him when he was in high school. In the right inside pocket, he kept an old set of tarot cards that Jim had never seen Blair use. Both the jacket and the cards had that odor on them. So the burnt cinnamon was someone’s personal scent, and not just constant run-ins with mutilated Cinnabons, Jim mused. Someone important to Blair, obviously.
“Hey, Jim,” said Simon. “Didn’t you tell me Blair was too busy to come in today?”
Soft warning bells went off in Jim’s head. “Yeah.”
“Well, a uniform just gave him a speeding ticket. He was driving someone’s fancy car fast enough to break the sound barrier.” Simon looked mighty displeased. “Right now, he’s having lunch at the Old Victorian. Would you mind going down there, and getting me a decent explanation of why your partner is shirking his responsibilities to you and to the department? Unless you know already?”
One look at Simon’s face told Jim that the answer to that last question had better be ‘no.’ Jim sighed. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”
Jim drove down to the Old Victorian Steakhouse, a posh and expensive dining establishment. Not someplace ordinary people went for lunch. He found Blair in a heartbeat upon entering the restaurant, and followed the combination of scent and sound that tied him to Blair. Blair was sitting in a small booth, next to an older man who was laughing at Blair’s outraged rant.
“Two-hundred and fifty dollars? For speeding! They have real criminals to catch, but instead they’re busy ticketing me? This is so unfair!”
The older man looked up as Jim approached their booth. He had short black hair, neatly cropped along the sides and buzzed on the back. His skin was pale, and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, both of which probably cost more than Jim’s annual salary. A well-worn leather jacket lay on the bench next to him, and a faint odor of burnt cinnamon filled Jim’s nose.
“Hello,” said Jim, trying his best to be polite.
Blair looked up. “Jim!” he said excitedly, and bounced out of the booth to grab Jim and pull him in. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Jim allowed himself to be forced into the booth next to Blair and opposite the stranger. “Simon sent me after you when he heard about the ticket.”
“Oh, god, does the whole station know?” moaned Blair.
“Pretty much,” grinned Jim, and Blair buried his head in his hands.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered.
“At least you had fun,” laughed the stranger, and Jim thought he heard something, like wind through feathers, and looked around for a second, but saw nothing.
“Jim? Are you okay?” asked Blair.
“I’m fine,” said Jim quickly, shaking off the imaginary noise. “Uh, my name’s Ellison, Jim Ellison, by the way.” He reached out his hand across the table, and the stranger did the same.
“Leland Mason McSheehan, at your service.” The man’s voice was odd to Jim’s ears, as if there were two people speaking at once. He’d read somewhere that a damaged voicebox could do that. He also had a slight accent, an Irish lilt, that made him hard to ignore. “Call me Mason.”
“Oh, god, where are my manners?” cried Blair.
“The same place as your license, love, in your back pocket.” Mason teased, and stole the last of Blair’s french fries.
Blair chose to ignore him. “Jim, this is my friend Mason. Mason, this is my roommate and partner, Jim.”
“The cop, yes?” Blair and Jim both nodded. “A pleasure to meet you.” Mason looked from one to the other. “But I guess you have things to talk about, hmm? I’ll make myself scarce. Call me later, all right?” he said to Blair, and followed that with a squeeze of the younger man’s hand that was more intimate than a mere kiss. Mason carelessly dropped a few bills on the table to cover lunch, and nodded to Jim, then slid out of the booth and left the restaurant.
Jim stared at the pile of fifties on the table. “Nice guy.”
Blair looked a little embarrassed. “Not everyone can be broke like me. Uh, do you want lunch or something, Jim? Or do we need to get back to the station?”
Jim decided to just get it out of the way. “Do you think we could talk for a few before doing anything else?”
Blair stared at the table. “Sure. I wanted to apologize for this morning. The way I went off on you, man, was totally uncalled for. I’m really sorry about that.”
Jim shrugged. “It’s okay, I should learn to mind my own business, especially when it’s something my Sentinel senses picked up. I should have more respect for your privacy.”
“Thanks for...thanks for coming back, man.” Blair was still staring at the table, intently watching the busboy clear away the plates and glasses.
“Hey, Chief, it’s gonna take more than that to drive me away from my Blessed Protectee,” Jim smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
Blair took a deep breath, and looked up at Jim. His eyes were still serious. “Well, it means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me. Even if...” he faltered in his sentence at the darkening look in Jim’s eyes.
Jim shook himself. He wasn’t being fair, he had promised to talk. “Blair, about what happened the other day.... I didn’t mean to let it just hang in the air forever, but I needed some time to work out the best way to explain myself to you. I didn’t think your past would pop up like this.”
“I’m sorry. How long was I supposed to wait, Jim? How was I supposed to know that I was even supposed to be waiting for something? You weren’t even talking to me, Jim!” cried Blair.
“I thought I’d have time to explain! I didn’t know how long it would take either!” Jim snarled.
“And what was I supposed to be waiting for, anyway? I already told you I’d still be your Guide, and you told me you didn’t love me. What do we still need to talk about?”
“Love you? Like a lover? Blair, have you thought about what you’re asking me to do?” Jim stood up, glad that there were so few patrons in the restaurant at this time of day. “Everyone around me dies. Do you know what I smell when I get in my truck to go to work? You. Your blood on my upholstery. I’ve seen you hurt a thousand times, I’ve almost gotten you killed, I’ve gotten you kidnapped, shot, stabbed, drugged, and that’s when we were just friends. Do you expect me to do this when I’m your lover?”
Blair stared at Jim, dark understanding settling in his eyes. “That’s what you’re afraid of.”
“Don’t say it, Blair.” Jim turned away. “I’m going to the car.” He stormed out of the restaurant.
The phone rang in my office, the one I had dedicated to Blair. “Hello, love. How are you?”
“I’m kinda swamped with these reports, and Jim really needs my help. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop by today. I’m really sorry.” Blair really did sound apologetic, but I could hear an undercurrent of pleasure running through his words at the idea of being with Jim Ellison.
“It’s okay,” I sighed. “Lunch was wonderful, pet. Can I make a date with you for tomorrow?”
“Sure!” he said gleefully. “You haven’t seen the stuff I bought, yet, either. You could pick me up after classes, and I could model them for you.”
I smiled. That was an idea with promise. “That does sound good, Blair. Enjoy your day, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll tell Jim. Thanks, Mason.”
“Anytime, Blair,” I said, caressing him with my voice. “Until the hours of darkness return you to me, be safe,” I whispered quickly, and hung up. Someday I was going to have to break that habit.
Jim Ellison. Blair really loved him, damn the man. I was going to have to do something about him, or Blair would never be all mine. In the meantime, two out three was more than acceptable; after all, they were the important two.
Bone-weary from emotion and boring paperwork, Blair ended up falling asleep on the couch in the loft next to Jim. Jim took a deep breath, trying to find his inner strength, but failed.
He picked Blair up, and carried him to his room. Blair was lighter than he should have been, and Jim made a mental note to remind Blair that food was for eating as well as looking at. He settled the younger man into his bed, taking off his shoes and making sure his clothes weren’t too constricting before pulling up the covers and closing the door to the small room.
Jim leaned against the door after he closed it, and let himself wallow for a moment in the memory of Blair’s warmth nestled against him, of Blair’s calm and steady heartbeat on his hands, and Blair’s scent, precious and familiar, filling Jim with feelings both tender and hungry.
He slowly walked upstairs to his own bed, where he sat for a moment, before going to his closet. On the inside of his closet, he kept a whiteboard where he could write random thoughts and reminders. He erased the last note to himself: “Talk to Blair NOW” and stared at the empty board. He grabbed the pen and wrote out the thought before it had time to disappear again, as it had for the last eight days: “There is a place where the sky meets the sea, and that is where I wait for you.”
Jim looked at the phrase. He could almost remember where it was from, but not quite. Was it poetry, or original? Something he had read once, or said to a lover? Or was it something his mind had coughed up the first time he had realized how deeply he needed Blair Sandburg, and that he had suppressed ever since?
Jim reached out, and erased the whiteboard, leaving no trace of anything from the past.
Next episode: Soldier's Cry