Disclaimer: Children, what are you doing in here? Get out of here! It features angst, angst, and a little more angst resulting from declarations of unrequited love. If you don’t like that sort of stuff, or know you are too young for it, please visit www.ultimatetv.com and find something wholesome to watch on television. 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 promise not to do any permanent damage to the people I don’t own, but I do, however, promise to abuse my overactive sexual imagination. Enjoy.
Send comments to address above. Or chocolate, or peeps, or money, et cetera... Bonus points if you know where the title is from!
Jim just stared at his partner. He couldn’t think of anything to say. If the younger man had actually whipped out a gun and shot him, it would have been less of a surprise, and probably less painful.
“Jim? Say something,” Blair begged. The quiet in the room threatened to crush him. He wasn’t sure if the loft would ever feel the same to him again.
“Don’t do this to me, Sandburg. I can’t.” His blue eyes started to fill with fears and tears. “Really, I can’t.”
“What?” Of all the reactions Blair had been expecting: hate, anger, feral conquest, agreement; fear had never entered the list. “Jim, I don’t understand.”
“And you’re not going to!” Jim snarled. His strong face crumpled for a second, but then he recovered his equilibrium. “You’re not really in love with me, Blair. I don’t know, maybe it’s from living together for too long, or maybe it’s some Sentinel/Guide thing, but you are not in love with me.” He said the last six words with enough force to drive Blair back a few steps.
“Are you just saying that because you don’t love me back?” asked Blair softly.
“That’s one reason,” Jim admitted. The moment of unexplained weakness was gone now, and Blair would never see it again. “Look at me, Blair. Do you even know me?”
“How can you ask that? I’ve spent every waking moment for the last-”
Jim cut him off. “And before that? How well do you know me? I’m a cop, Blair. I carry a gun and I kill people. And before that? I was a soldier, I carried a gun and killed people, and not just the bad guys, in case you missed that. Do you see a trend here?” Jim’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“What does that have to do with anything?” screamed Blair. “You’re my Blessed Protector! You’re the Sentinel! It’s only a job, Jim. That’s not who you are.”
“Oh no?” Jim’s quiet voice stilled all hope in Blair of winning this argument. “I’m not going to give up being a cop, and the only way I can stop being the Sentinel is if I get locked up in a padded room somewhere. I don’t need a lover, Blair. I need a Guide. I need a friend. Don’t do this to me. Don’t make me choose.”
Blair sagged. “That’s not what I want, Jim. I’m not trying to change you. I just want to be more to you than just a sidekick.”
“If this is just about sex-”
“It’s not about sex!” Blair ran his hands through his hair. “Forget it, Jim. Forget I said anything. I’m sorry.” Blair slowly walked into his room, and pulled the door shut all the way behind him. “I’m really sorry, Jim,” he whispered softly, knowing that the Sentinel outside could still hear him. “I won’t make you choose. I’ll still be your Guide, and your friend, if you’ll let me.”
Outside, Jim closed his eyes. He imagined that he could still hear Blair’s voice, burning itself into his brain: “Jim, I love you.” How could he do this to me, Jim moaned silently, and walked numbly up the stairs to his own bed. Blair’s heartbeat and almost silent sobs dragged him to sleep.
Next episode: The Demon Prince.