walters little world

~*~*~*~
Title: The Dancefloor
Author/pseudonym: Squidgie (Walter H. Hopgood)
Email address: walterh@squidge.org
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: J/B

Status: NEW
Date: 5/4/98
Archive: YES to Merry and Michelle
Archive author: Squidgie
Archive email address: walterh@squidge.org
Series/Sequel: None 
Other website: http://www.meer.net/~walterh/walter/

Disclaimers: I don't own Jim or Blair - they're owned by UPN and Pet
Fly. However, I *do* make many trips up to Vancouver.  I *did* have
my suitcase when I ran into a couple of the guys in Vancouver, but
didn't get close enough to judge size.  I ain't making any money off
of this.  Don't sue me, PLEASE!  I have two mortgages, two cats, two
birds and a husband to support!  Intended audience for this is slash
fans above the age of 18.  Not over 18?  Here, let me get a "Where's 
Waldo" book for you.  Don't read this.

Notes: When I started writing this story, I'd not yes seen any Sentinel
stories take place in a gay bar. Halfway through, I read pumpkin's 
"Happy Birthday, Baby" and worried that people might think this was a 
ripoff of her story.  She read the early draft, and OK'd it, so here it 
is.  BTW, the sex scene is dedicated to pumpkin, since she said she'd 
take her permission away if I didn't post a sex scene - hope you like 
it, babe!  And, as always, mucho-mucho hugs and kisses to Shelley for 
being the best editor on the face of the earth.  Honey, I promise to 
share Garett with you when I bring him home from Vancouver with me!

if $MSG="Flame" echo $MSG > /dev/null; Otherwise, I would *really* 
appreciate feedback, and other ideas/requests for stories.  All
feedback will be responded to, I promise!

Summary: A story about Jim and Blair in a gay bar.

Warnings:  Should not be read by the disco impaired.  There are
butch gay men, disco music, dancing, and sex involved.  And no,
this is not "Saturday Night Fever."  

~*~*~*~

Jim opened his cell phone, stopping it from chirping.  "Ellison,"
he responded, almost barking.

"Yo, Jimbo," responded the quiet voice on the other side.  "I
think I got what you're lookin' for.  Meet me tonight to discuss
the details."

A smile plastered across Jim's face, spreading his lips.  His
snitch had come through.  "Very good.  Usual place?"

The voice on the other end of the phone released a little distress
in it's voice.  "Sorry man, this is too big. Gotta be way outta 
the way.  How about Numbers out on Bentall - you know, West side?
Elevenish?"

/Oh great/ Jim thought.  "Sure," he responded, the slightest
hint of panic in his voice.  Numbers was one of Cascade's larger
gay bars, but in a little out of the way neighborhood close to the
city limits.  "We'll see you then."  

Blair immediately picked up the vibe.  "What's up, man? What's 
wrong?"

Always the one to suppress his feelings, Jim denied that he was
slightly uncomfortable with the situation just presented to him.
"Nothing's wrong.  We have to meet tonight at a bar up on the
West side."  Jim looked at Blair and said quietly, "Numbers."

Two eyebrows made it skyward, as a happy surprised expression
overtook Blair's face.  "Numbers?" he asked incredulously.  "Man,
that joint can be hoppin', especially on a Friday night."

Now it was Jim's eyebrow's turn to race upward.  "You know this
place well, Chief?"

Blair's cheeks flushed lightly, and his heart rate increased only
as much as could be detected by his sentinel.  "Well," he tried 
to cover slightly, being as nonchalant as possible, "I've been
there with friends and students a few times.  It's got a really
diverse crowd, and plays *excellent* music."  What he'd said
was true.  He *had* been there with a friend before, when he'd
confessed his feelings about Jim - feelings that he would never
tell Jim for fear that he'd be thrown out of the loft and Jim's
life.  

Jim just stared.

"What?" Blair asked.  "Can't a guy have friends?"  He studied Jim's
face a few minutes.  "What?"

"Nothin', Chief.  You just always seem to surprise me."  With that,
Jim smiled, easing the tension he'd obviously caused. 

It was Blair's turn to grin next, and he ran with it.  "Hey man, 
don't knock it 'til you try it!"

Jim tried to ignore the comment, motioning for Blair to get up and
come with him.  "Let's go, Chief.  Wonderburger.  My treat."  
/There.  That should change the subject./  Jim thought.  /He
doesn't know how much I *want* to try it - and he's not going
to, either./

The previous conversation shelved for the moment, Blair went into
what Jim thought of as his health-food-rant.  "Oh man, Jim!  When are
you gonna learn?  That stuff's gonna kill you, man!  Besides, it's
only 11 o'clock.  We just had breakfast three hours ago."  Blair's
voice was tinged with the slightest of whines.

"Yeah?  Well that tofu scramble crap that you made for breakfast
isn't exactly stick-to-the-ribs food.  Let's go."

The partners made their way down the hall, raising odd looks as
they passed their coworkers, heading out for their lunch.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sky blue eyes looked over at the body next to his in the truck, as 
it rhythmically bounced to the pounding music emanating from the 
nearby building.  Jim smiled as Blair's body gently rocked the truck, 
moving back and forth in a seductive manner, and nearly jumped as 
Blair spoke.  "So, you ready, big guy?"

Jim came back to reality, remembering the purpose for which he and 
Blair were parked in front of the bar.  He'd just hung up with Simon, 
getting some information on the case, and dreaded going in.  Not 
because of the clientele inside, but because it would bring his own 
true feelings closer to the surface - feelings for Blair that he tried
to think of only late at night, sleeping alone in his big bed.
"Yeah, Chief.  Whenever you are."  He glanced at his watch, noting
that they were ten minutes early.  /Oh well.  Enough time to
grab a beer.  I just hope I can concentrate, if Blair doesn't stop
moving his hips like that./  

Both men got out of the truck, Blair bounding by Jim's side as soon
as he'd cleared the front.  He grabbed Jim's arm, as if to escort
him to the door.  Jim tensed slightly, stopping mid-stride.  "Get
off me, Sandburg!"

A pout forced itself from Blair's face, as he batted his eyelashes
at Jim.  He quietly whispered, "Come on, man!  You're gonna stick
out like a sore thumb in here."  Blair reached back and whacked
Jim lightly on the butt, his hand stinging as it met the faded
blue jean material.  "Loosen up!"  

Jim turned to face Blair as soon as the hand reached his backside,
shooting him a look that would have felled any other man.  But not
Blair.  He was in his element, appearing to have the time of his
life.  As Blair recaptured Jim's arm within his, he resigned himself
to putting up with it.  /After all, there's no place around to 
hide the body.  And he's too damn cute to kill, anyway./  Jim thought.

They approached the door, and were greeted by a rather large man.
Blair was still bouncing to the music as they walked, as Jim took
out his wallet, trying to appear relaxed.  "It's five bucks cover 
tonight, boys," the bouncer announced.  "But sugar," he said 
sweetly, looking directly into Jim's eyes, "You promise me a dance, 
and you get in free."  The expression dropped, and one of loathing
took over as the bouncer motioned towards Blair. "Just lose the hippy."

Before Jim could put the bill into the man's hand, Blair slapped
a ten into the fattened paw.  "He's with *ME*," Blair announced,
quite possessively.  As he pulled a stunned Jim Ellison through
the door he announced, more for his own amusement than the bouncer's,
"He's *my* bitch."  

Blair made their way through the crowd, pulling Jim behind him, and 
saddled up to a free spot at the bar.  "So much for a quiet, out of 
the way place, huh Jim?" he almost had to yell.  He just hoped that 
Jim had deadened his hearing before entering the bar, and looked 
carefully at his partner to check on him.  Jim still appeared to be 
too tense.  "Come on, man.  Loosen up!  You wanna beer?"

A few seconds later, Blair could almost see Jim thaw from his frozen
state.  He took the stool next to where Blair stood, and settled 
in to his surroundings.  "Sure," he replied.

"Good, 'cause I'm parched.  Buy me one, too."  Blair, who had
continued to bounce to the techno rhythm since they'd pulled up
to the bar, shot Jim a wicked smile.  He knew that, in this
environment, he had the upper hand.  His grin grew, as he watched
Jim fish for his wallet, mouthing the word, "smartass" towards
Blair.

"Barkeep!" Jim almost had to yell.  "Two drafts, please."  When
the bartender motioned to the six types the bar stocked, Jim
mouthed "Bud" and turned back to Blair.  "So," Jim started,
as he paid for the newly arrived beer, "Where the hell is he?"
Jim took a long draw from his drink, and carefully eyed the
crowd.

A hand rested on Jim's shoulder, and he mostly ignored it.  Blair
squeezed slightly, smiling at Jim.  "He'll be here.  He's never
bailed on you before, has he?"

"A couple of times, when things got hot," Jim explained.  "We meet
on his turf and when he's ready, or we don't do business."

Blair raised the glass to his lips, and took a pull from the drink.
As he surveyed the room, he felt a hand come to rest on his hip,
and immediately stopped bouncing.  He looked, and found the arm
attached to one Jim Ellison.  A questioning look was fired at
Jim.  "Yes?"

"Nothing," was Jim's reply.  "I'm just taking your advice and loosening
up.  You know, fitting in."  Dark eyebrows darted up and down, as
a pair of colorful blue eyes sparked in Blair's face.  With his
hand still on Blair's side, Jim dialed up his sense of touch, feeling
the warm skin underneath the smooth fabric.  As his fingers told him
the story of what it was to be Blair Sandburg, he noticed the slightest
elevation in temperature and felt his guide's heartbeat rise
somewhat.  Jim had touched his partner many times, though he was
always careful never to cross the line between appropriate and
inappropriate behavior.  But with Blair's reaction, he began to
wonder what was going on.  /Is it my imagination, or is he nervous?/
he questioned.

His sense of touch told him that Blair was calming down slightly,
as his guide's body began to again keep time with the music.  He
slowly began to remove his hand from the gyrating man, when his
hand was captured.  Blair's eyes caught his, a pleading look deep
within them.  "It's all right, Jim.  I don't mind," was the breathy
reply, and his hand was brought back to the moving hip.  Jim hooked
his finger through the beltloop, and held on to his guide, smiling
quietly to himself.

Each man began to wonder how far the other one was willing to take
this, and how far their own courage would allow them to go.

"Jesus, it's boiling in here.  I'm going to get rid of my coat.
Want me to take yours?"  Blair began to shed his top layer, as he
asked Jim.  Jim's coat came off, revealing a tight white tee-shirt,
bulging like it had been overstuffed.  Blair's eyes viewed the taut
muscles, trying like hell to hide his arousal.  With all the beauty
around him, and Jim being at the top of that list, it wasn't going
to be easy.  

"Here."  Jim handed Blair his coat, and turned back to the crowd,
wishing he'd worn something a little less revealing.  Blair had
been turning him on since early that evening, and his nipples,
now hard and quite perky, showed prominently through his shirt.
They seemed to have their own radar, as man after man seemed to
hone in on them, like he was a piece of meat surrounded by a pack
of hungry wolves.  He lowered his eyes to his beer, and nursed it,
hoping Blair would be back soon.

Jim made one fatal mistake.  As he drained the last of his beer, he 
focused on the bottom of the glass, seeing a well-built man coming
his way.  Jim froze slightly, hoping the man would continue past and
avoid him.  His hopes were dashed when the man saddled up next to
him.  The deep voice came from a well sculpted chest, "Hi."  The
voice matched the body - solid and sure.

As Blair made his way back from the coat check, he spotted a buffed
man walking towards Jim, and recognized the look that the man's
eyes held - lust.  At first he was content to slow down and let Jim
deal with the situation himself - it would be hilarious to see Jim
try and get out of this one.  But that thought only lasted a split
second, replaced by a fear that perhaps Jim would actually take the
man up on his offer - whatever that offer may be.  He quickened his
pace, and was almost next to Jim when he heard the stranger greet
Jim.  Just after the words left the strangers mouth, Blair appeared
by Jim's side, took his partner's hand into his, and motioned
to the multi-colored floor adjacent the bar.  "Let's dance," he
said, startling Jim slightly.  Jim placed his empty glass on the
bar to keep the stranger company, and allowed himself to be pulled
out toward the dance floor.

The feel of Jim's hand in his made Blair tingle with excitement -
and terror.  He was hesitant to turn and face Jim -- afraid of what
might be staring back at him.  Once they reached the far side of
the dance floor, Blair felt Jim's hand drop from his, and turned
to face his partner.  He turned slowly, and let his gaze drift
up to Jim's face, where he was greeted with a grateful grin.  The
smile was infectious, and Blair felt his lips stretch across his
face, a giggle bubbling up through his chest.

"Thanks," Jim acknowledged.  "You saved my life back there."

Blair's face grew bright.  "Does this mean I'm now *your* Blessed
Protector?"  

Both men laughed at the inside joke, glad to have relieved some of
the tension for the moment.  "Sure," Jim joked.  "I protect you
from bodily injury, and you protect me from big, butch men in gay 
bars.  Deal?"

"Deal." /Big butch men?/ "So what are we going to do?  I don't see 
your guy here, do you?"

Jim scanned the room, searching for his informant.  "No, and it almost
fifteen after.  He's always on time.  Maybe he got hung up."

Blair scanned the bar area, noting that the guy he'd "saved" Jim from
was now working on bagging a bodybuilder that he'd seen walking from
the coat check earlier.  Deeming it safe, he asked, "You want to go 
back and hang out at the bar?"

Jim's face threw a playful hurt expression to Blair.  "Hey, you're the
one that dragged me out onto the dance floor," he pouted.  Secretly
he was loving this, but his insides were quivering with nervousness.
"What am I, a wallflower?"  The energy from all the men around them 
seemed to be energizing Jim, letting him be more bold than he normally 
would.

An instant of hesitation seemed like an eternity, until Blair grabbed
Jim's hand and pulled him a couple of feet back into the throng of 
gyrating, sweaty men.  He let go of Jim's hand and began bouncing, 
letting his hips sway back and forth, noting that they were followed 
closely by a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen.  Blair urged 
Jim to loosen up, motioning him with his ever expressive hands.  
"Come on!  Get into it!" and watched Jim go from a conservative beat 
to an all out disco-type bump in a few stanzas of the techno-pop tune.  
As the two danced, Blair gave Jim an approving glance.  "Not bad 
for an old guy!" he teased, over the music.

Not skipping a beat, Jim threw back, "Keep it up, Babe, and I'll send
you home with the bouncer!"

The sound of uncontrollable laughter was added to the ever-present music,
and the two continued to dance.  As Jim became more and more at ease, he
threw his arms above his head, swinging them back and forth with the 
rhythm of the music.  A few of these motions, and Jim's tee-shirt became
untucked from his pants, revealing Jim's tight abdominals to Blair, who's
eyes grew at the sight.  It was enough to distract him, when he was
put off balance by a nearby dancer's arm in the back, almost falling into
his partner.  

Jim never skipped a beat, as he righted Blair, who was now dancing in
his personal space - not that he minded.  The pair continued to gyrate,
Blair's leg between his massive legs, until Jim brought his hands to
Blair's sides.  At first Blair thought Jim'd had enough, and was leading
them off the floor, but was shocked to feel Jim turn him around, and
a very hot pelvis grind into his bottom as he was bent over.  Jim
continued to dance and gyrate, his hips grinding into his partner's
backside while powerful hands held Blair in place.  The beat throbbed
heavy, and the two bodies continued in their new position until the song 
drew to a close, and the two men stopped their dancing.

As Blair righted himself, still facing away from Jim, he instinctively 
drew his hand behind Jim's head, turning slightly to catch Jim's face.
His expression was full of questions, as he closed in on Jim's ear.  
"What was that all about, man?"

Jim beamed towards his smaller partner.  "What can I say?  You're a
bad influence on me, Chief."  His eyes drove into Blair's soul with
his stare, and he unconsciously licked his lips, finding himself
suddenly dry.  Blair's hand drew Jim's face closer, but instead of
speaking into Jim's ear, he stopped short.  Their lips were inches
apart, both men hesitating somewhat.  Jim, feeling quite bold with
his feelings tonight, cut the distance and took Blair's lips with
his own, claiming his mouth.

The taste of Blair overwhelmed Jim slightly, as their mouths opened
and tongues explored the new sumptuous cavern.  Jim drew his hands around
Blair's head, as Blair's hand helped to put Jim's head in the right
position.  Their bodies, already sweaty from dancing, began to cling
to each other tightly, as each man tried desperately to mold themselves
into one.  Jim's hands began to roam, finding the narrow hips that he'd
held just earlier, and the firm asscheeks underneath the denim cloth.
Blair's hands began with Jim's head, and made their way all around
Jim's body.  He latched onto the firm chest and back, and decided he 
never, ever wanted to let go.

As the two continued the deep, penetrating kiss, they suddenly became
aware of cat-calls and wolf-whistles coming from the crowd around
them.  They broke off just in time to hear someone yell, "Get a
room, you two!" and looked sheepishly into each others eyes.  Jim
looked at his watch - 11:25PM - and looked at Blair.  Both men spoke
at the same time.  "Home."

Blair grabbed Jim's hand, leading him back across the dance floor and
to the coat check area.  With each step, he could feel the spark between
them as it seemed to warm his hand, giving energy to them both, and
could feel Jim's eyes boring into his ass.  A quick look back confirmed,
and a quickly blushing Sentinel was comforted with an easy kiss.

Both jackets now picked up, the men left the bar, avoiding the 
conversation the bouncer suddenly wanted to start up with Jim again.  
They got as far as the truck.  Jim unlocked the door and turned 
to motion Blair in before walking to the drivers side, when he was 
pounced upon by his smaller partner.  Passionate kisses ruled for 
several moments, and Jim had to almost pick Blair up and put him 
into the truck.  As Blair's door shut, he made his way quickly to 
the drivers side and climbed in.

Driving back to the loft was nearly impossible.  At almost each red 
light or stop sign, the men were almost uncontrollable.  One look 
between them would start a series of kisses, gropes, and hugs, that 
took the driver of another car to bring them back to reality.  
Realizing this would not be good for his insurance, and not wanting
to think about how he would explain an accident to his Captain, he 
put distance between them, keeping Blair at arms length, literally.  
Blair was now two feet away, held there with Jim's right hand, as he 
tried to drive with his left.

Blair took Jim's hand, holding it in his, then brought it to his 
mouth.  He inserted the index finger into his mouth and sucked it 
seductively, licking the digit carefully.  Jim tried to dial down 
his sense of touch, but found he was too aroused to focus enough 
for the task.  He withdrew his finger from Blair's mouth, and put 
it on Blair's leg instead.  "We'll be home soon, Chief," he said, 
desperation very noticeable in his voice.

"Oh yeah," Blair cooed.  He stroked Jim's hand gently, and drew it
into his crotch to rest against his engorged cock.  As Blair's hand
found Jim's crotch, Jim pushed Blair back.  

"Blair, honey," Jim breathlessly said.  "You gotta stop.  Come on,
Chief, I'm gonna crash here!"

Blair's desire instantly wiped itself from his face, and Jim soon 
found his hand resting comfortably on the seat next to him, 
suddenly missing the throbbing member that it held just seconds 
earlier.  "OK.  Fine.  I can wait, if you can."  Blair spoke in
an even, sterile tone.

The truck slammed to a halt, Jim's eyes screaming in desperation 
for the contact they had shared for the last ten minutes of the 
ride, now removed as if it had never happened.  He looked at 
Blair, incredulously.  "What in the...."  His eyes studied his 
partner, who was now cowering in a giggle on the truck seat. 
"YOU LITTLE TEASE!" Jim bellowed.

The smaller man was now almost doubled over, realizing the power 
he'd had over Jim, and laughing about it.  "Jim, man, I'm sorry."  
Jim's face was red, blushing deeply and easily forgetting the 
anger that his partner's teasing had caused.  

"Oh, you're gonna be sorry, when I get you home.  You think you 
can start something and just turn it off?" Jim play-lectured his 
soon to be lover.  "Just wait until I-"

Jim was cutoff before he could finish, Blair's tongue thrust down 
his throat.  The two leaned back onto the seat, Blair towering 
over Jim and kissing him deeply.  Jim's hands found their way to 
Blair's chest, tweaking the nipples found underneath the fabric, 
then pushed Blair away gently.  "Let's just get home."

For a split second, Jim contemplated pulling out the blue-light 
and siren to make their trip quicker, but they were only about 
a mile from the loft as it was.  He made it in record time, and 
pulled into the parking stall, both men hardly waiting for the 
truck to stop before jumping out and going inside.  Jim found the 
staircase and began to bound up them, assuming Blair was right 
behind him.  He reached the door to the loft, then realized that 
he was alone.  "Where the hell..." He almost yelled, then heard 
the telltale sounds of the rising elevator.  As he made his way 
to it, coming to rest in front of it, the elevator doors parted, 
revealing Blair.

An audible gasp was released, as Jim took in the sight of his 
partner.  Blair had removed his shirt and lowered his pants and 
boxers while en route, and was staring at Jim, stroking his cock.  
As if on autopilot, Jim walked into the elevator, taking in all 
that was Blair.  Two small hands removed themselves from Blair's 
throbbing erection, bringing a palm to Jim's face.  Jim breathed 
in deeply through his nose, taking the smell in and committed 
it to memory, for all time.  He licked the palm before him, 
sucking each finger gently.  The hands left Jim's face, as they 
began to tug at Jim's clothes, while tongues once again began 
their explorations.  

Jim was undressed in record time.  As he pulled his jeans off,
Blair finished removing his pants, never taking his lips from 
Jim's.  The smaller man's hands found their way behind Jim's 
neck, and pulled him down to lay on Blair's body, both bodies 
now rested on the floor.  With fingers intertwined, Jim brought 
the hands above Blair's head, holding him down, thrusting his 
cock against Blair's.  The feeling was electric, stronger than 
their earlier kiss.  Jim's cock was stabbing at Blair's crotch, 
gingerly wetting it with precum.  

Blair managed to get his legs from under Jim's, and started 
raising them in the air.  "Come on, Jim.  Fuck me." He begged.  
"I want to feel you inside me."

Though he'd never experienced this with another guy, he was not 
about to let that stop him.  Jim's hand left Blair's, and made 
it's way to his cock.  He spread the pre-cum liberally over his 
erection, then slipped a finger to Blair's ass.  As the slick 
finger gently squirmed it's way inside, Blair began to bare down, 
wanting more.  Jim added a second, then third finger, working 
them inside the smaller man.

Blair licked a free hand, reached down, and pulled Jim's cock, 
spreading it with moisture.  "Now, Jim.  Take me now!"  He yelled,
pulling Jim's cock in line with his ass.  Jim removed his fingers,
bringing his engorged shaft to the puckered entrance.  He tried
to start out gently, but Blair thrust back, almost splitting 
himself in two by the thick member.  Jim pumped in and out of 
Blair, lost in the sensation of tight heat on his cock.  Blair 
allowed his hands to roam over Jim's chest, tweaking the nipples 
that topped the heated flesh.  As Jim kept thrusting into Blair, 
he leaned down and took Blair's mouth, kissing him deeply.  Jim's 
tongue roamed over Blair's lips, then to the side of his neck, 
licking and biting gently, finally coming to rest on Blair's 
nipples.  He licked and bit them gently, matching his pounding 
rhythm.  

Jim rose slightly, leaving Blair's nipples, and towered over 
Blair.  He held Blair's ankles up, pushing them as much as he 
could, allowing him deeper access to Blair's ass.  As he continued 
to pound, abusing Blair's prostate with each thrust, Blair drew 
his hand to his crotch, and began masturbating.  With his eyes 
wide, he watched Jim's chest, dripping with sweat, as the older 
man thrust into him.  The attention his prostate was receiving 
had already brought him close, and it only took a few strokes to 
bring him over.  He cried out loudly as his orgasm took over 
his body, his seed shooting up around his chest.  At each spasm, 
his ass clenched down on Jim's cock.  With Blair complete, and 
Jim near the edge, Jim bent down and took Blair's mouth.  Jim's 
orgasm was powerful, the thrusts into Blair's body went deep, 
and he cried into Blair's mouth as thrust after thrust sent his 
seed deep into Blair's bowels.

The two men collapsed breathless, Jim's body almost crushed his
smaller partner's.  It took several minutes to catch their breath,
Blair coming to first.  "Oh, man..."  He leaned up slightly and
gently kissed Jim.  "You OK man?"

Jim threw an evil grin to Blair, returning the earlier kiss.

"What?"  Blair was trying to figure out the puzzling look Jim was
giving him.

Another quick kiss claimed, Jim smiled.  "Like I said, Chief.  
You're a bad influence on me."  

end

Though I've written a few X-Files slash stories, this is my very
first slash based on the television series, "The Sentinel."  The
possibilities of that show... Whew! :)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jim or Blair; they're property of UPN and
Pet Fly.  However, I make many trips to Vancouver, and if they come
back with me in my suitcase one time, well I *will* eventually send
them back. 

THANKS: I have to thank my cybersis Steff for urging me to start
writing again, after not having written any fiction for over ten
years.  Major thanks to Panda for becoming my friend through feedback
on a Mulder/Krycek story I wrote, then using her powers of suggestion
to get me to watch The Sentinel.  She's now my editor, and I thank
her for her support.  Shelley, this story is for you!  (It's your
fault, anyway... You planted the seed in my head!)

This is "The Bears" by Squidgie.  It's rated PG13 for implied M/M
relationship and a little cuddling.  

Feedback is REALLY requested!  This is my very first Sentinel story,
and I'd like to know what people think of it.  You can reach me
at walterh@squidge.org.

I don't know who archives Sentinel slash, so feel free to archive it,
but please email me and let me know where it's been archived.  Thanks.

***********************************************************************

Blair almost flew out the loft's front door, grabbing for his
keys and slamming the door noisily behind him.  "UURGH!!!"  The 
groan of frustration eaked from his clenched mouth, while his 
hands flew from their restless point at his sides, now aiming at 
the sky trying to make sense of it all.  "Why is he so pig-headed?!" 
he asked himself, incredulously.  As soon as he uttered the words, 
he regretted it, having momentarily forgotten that Jim, Sentinel 
hearing no doubt focused intently, could hear every word.  As he 
made for the stairs, the door behind him flew open.  Blair took 
the stairs two at a time, a voice bellowing down after him, as if 
to ensnare him before he could flee.

"I'm *NOT* pig-headed. *YOU'RE* being *UNREASONABLE!*"  The voice
trailed after him, and he knew he had to escape, at least for a
little while.  When he heard the door slam from the floor above him,
he knew he was alone.  Jim wouldn't come after him.  Jim would
rather sit in the loft and brood for hours.  

/Unreasonable, huh?  Yeah right./  Blair thought as he
exited the building and walked along the busy street.  It had
started as a little nothing; Blair had to finish grading his 
student's papers and didn't want to go out - besides, it was their
one month anniversary!  There was nothing more he wanted than a
nice, quiet dinner at home with his beloved.  The thought made him
smile to himself.  /Well, maybe more than *just* dinner./  Thoughts
of the, well, it wasn't a fight as much as it was a tiff.... Well,
a tiff or a disagr.... Blair sighed heavily.  "Shut up, Blair!" he
scolded himself.  The brief smile was now lost from his face, 
replaced by a scowl that represented what he was feeling inside.
Yes, he'd wanted a nice, quiet dinner at home, but, "After all,"
Jim's words echoed through his head, "It's poker night.  Poker night!"
Blair huffed as he remembered Jim asking why it was that they couldn't 
just go out some other night?  "Pig," he said to himself, continuing
down the busy street, his eyes darkening to match his mood.

***

Before he knew it, Blair realized that he had stewed for a good hour,
and was now about three miles from the loft.  And cold.  /Why the hell 
did I walk out of there without my coat?/ he berated himself.  /Well,
I should head back.  Jim may be pig-headed, but he'd get over it and
damn, but it's cold!/ he thought, and turned around mid-step, when 
something in the window of the store he was in front of caught his
eye.  It was followed by a smile that could only be described as impish. 
"Oh, man... Jim'll kill me." he grinned, and walked determinedly into 
the store, pulling out his wallet as he strode in.  Yes, he was a
total romantic, but why was Jim so...the totally unromantic type?
He reminded himself as the clerk rang him up, /He may be unromantic, 
Blair, but he's yours./  

Satisfied with his purchase, Blair waltzed out of the store, as if 
he were on air, the mood that brought him this far from the loft now 
totally forgotten.  He decided to get back, make his apology with the
aid of his purchase, and pile himself into the truck for the poker
game.  After all, there were going to be hundreds of anniversaries
with Jim to celebrate, if he had anything to do with it.

The sun had begun to set as Blair closed in on their building.  He
looked up and saw that, though subdued, the lights were still on,
which meant that Jim was still home and had not gone out.  He
carefully and quietly made his way up the stairs and was almost
to the door, when he heard soft music coming from inside.  /Soft 
music, and the incredible smell of....lasagna?  What is going on
here?/ he asked himself, and turned the key in the door.  As the
door opened, Blair instinctively moved his hand over to the basket to
drop his keys in, but missed it by a foot.  There, leaning back on
the table that was now draped in cloth and filled with delicious
smelling items, was his lover, a meal in himself.  

"Welcome home, Chief," Jim said quietly and smiled to himself.  Blair
noticed that Jim was dressed now in a pair of khaki pants and a blue
silk shirt that made his eyes dance in pools of color that challenged
the movements of the candles spread about the loft.  "Are you going
to come in?"

Blair suddenly remembered that yes, he *was* supposed to be breathing.
He took a breath in, but the look of awe never left his face.  "Um,
uh... Jim?  Um, what's going on here, man?"  The words he had spoken
earlier about Jim not being a romantic now haunted his memory.

"What does it look like, Chief?  A nice, quiet dinner for two."  The
words oozed from Jim's mouth not unlike honey escaping it's container.

"But this was *poker night*, Jim.  You wanted to go out and play poker
with the boys.  What is this?"

An easy laugh escaped Jim's mouth, his massive chest moving rhythmically
underneath his shirt, the fabric brushing up against his nipples
sensually.  "That's what you thought, Chief.  I only *told* you it was
poker night to get you out of the house.  This dinner," he let his
arms flow over the food and wine on the table, "was supposed to have
been eaten at the restaurant.  It was supposed to be a surprise.  When
you left, I called and had to pay a pretty penny to get it delivered. 
After all," he added quietly, "it *is* our anniversary."

By this time Blair had practically melted into a puddle of goo, though
his face still held it's awe.  He carefully engaged his legs, after
desperately trying to remember how they worked, and walked over to
his lover.  "Jim, " he whispered, "Thank you.  You're incredible, man."

Blair threw his arms around Jim, pulling him tightly into his chest for
a massive hug.  As he did, he noticed Jim squirming in his arms.  "What
is it?"  Running his hands over the fabric, he asked, "What?  The shirt 
getting to you?"  Blair's eyebrows flew up and down, innuendo hanging 
heavy in the air.

A meaty hand left where it'd attached itself to Blair's buttocks and
reached for Blair's stomach, touching something through his shirt.
As the two separated, Jim asked, "No, this," he said, pointing to 
Blair's stomach.  "What is it?"

Blair blushed, his eyes bright with glee.  "Um, just a little something
that I picked up while I was out."  He began to unbutton his shirt
to take out it's contents, when Jim dropped his gaze, eyes spotting
the gift.

"Oh no, Chief!  You promised!"

The room was filled with Blair's laugh, which Jim's frown tried to
extinguish.  "Jim, I promised no more *teddy* bears.  This isn't a
teddy bear Jim.  It's a panda bear."  His smile beamed bright, threatening
to drown out the candle light that illuminated the loft, and Blair's
mouth began to form a word.

Jim's eyes darted from Blair's lips to his eyes and back, focused and 
intent on quelling the onslaught before it began.  "Blair?  Blair!  
Don't you say it, Blair!  Don't you dare!" all while Blair's lips tried 
to speak, forming the forbidden word.

"Oh Jim... I wouldn't *dream* about it," he added, handing Jim the
stuffed animal.  Under his breath, but loud enough for a Sentinel's
hearing, he added, "Pookie bear" and suppressed a laugh.

"That's IT!" Jim mockingly yelled.  He threw the panda across the room
and grabbed Blair, tossing both their bodies down onto the couch and
thrust his lips to Blair's, kissing him deeply.  It was one way he
could think of to shut Blair up.

***

After dinner was finished and put away and the wine polished off, the
two lovers slowly made their way up to their bedroom.  Jim stopped
mid-step and turned, bounding past his lover and back into the living
room.  "What is it?" Blair asked.

"Go ahead and climb in bed.  I'll be up in just a second," Jim called
after him.  As Blair got undressed and slipped between the sheets,
he could hear Jim downstairs, walking the length of the loft, as if
searching for something.  Seconds later, Jim appeared at the top of the 
stairs, holding the previously abandoned panda carefully in his hands, 
bringing the grin back to Blair's face.  Jim sat down on the side of the 
bed, placing the panda carefully next to the teddy bear that Blair had 
given to him a couple of weeks prior.  "Not another word, Chief," Jim
instructed, as he removed his clothing, then slipped between the
sheets and took his lover into his arms.

~*~*~*~
Title: Cactus Candy (from the late 1990s)
Author/pseudonym: Squidgie (Walter H. Hopgood)
Email address: walterh@squidge.org
Rating: NC-17 (well, almost)
Pairings: J/B

Status: NEW
Date: 5/3/98
Archive: YES to Merry and Michelle
Archive author: Squidgie
Archive email address: walterh@squidge.org
Series/Sequel: None
Other website: http://www.meer.net/~walterh/walter/

Disclaimers: I don't own Jim or Blair - they're owned by UPN and Pet
Fly. However, I *do* make many trips up to Vancouver.  I *did* have
my suitcase when I ran into a couple of the guys in Vancouver, but
didn't get close enough to judge size.  I ain't making any money off
of this, and besides, it's *Pumpkin's* fault, not mine!!!!!  Not
beta'd (too damn silly to have been) but has been spell checked and
double-checked.

Notes:  This is my response to the recent "Turn Blair into a giant
pink ostrich and have Taggart eat him" challenge that was put forth
by Pumpkin.  This is *NOT* my fault!!!

Summary: It's just a Jim and Blair story (with lots of silliness)

Warnings:  Unresolved sexual situation, drug use, childhood-tv-heroes,
and candymaking all put to shame. :)

~*~*~*~

The solitary figure walked slowly through the precinct, ignoring
the looks and gasps that seemed to follow him around each corner.
He ventured forth, entering the major crimes area, and noisily
dropped his backpack in front of the desk of one James Ellison.

"SANDBURG!!!  ...  Ewww...."

A pair of cerulean eyes rolled back in their owner's head, not
wanting to answer the question that awaited him.  "*Nice to see
you, Jim*."

"Sandburg, sarcasm does *not* become you.  And neither does that
shade of pink."  Jim turned his sense of smell down, after determining
where it was emanating from.  "I won't even ask you what that smell is."
A soft chuckle rounded the small office.  "So, what the hell happened
to you?  And what are you doing back early?"

Sighing heavily, Blair began delivering the practiced speech that
he'd worked on during the cab ride and walk from the airport.  "Well,
if you'd look at your calendar, you would notice the date.  Can you
tell me what day it is, Jim?"

"It's the ninth.  And you're not due back until the tenth, tomorrow."

"No, it's the tenth.  Jim, what day of the week is this?"

"Tuesday."

"No, Jim, it's Wednesday.  Remember Wednesday?  That day that you and
I set aside for you to COME PICK ME UP?!?!"

Jim flinched.  "Ouch.  I'm sorry, gup.  Without you here to keep me
on track the last few days, I've been kind of out of it."  Noticing
Taggart taking out a can of Lysol and spraying the area around his
desk, he added quietly, "What happened to you?  You want to shower
and change?"

A cry of frustration escaped Blair's lips.  "I don't want to talk about
it.  I just want to go home, get in the shower-"

"Whoa there, Chief!  You're not getting in *my* truck smelling like
that.  You can get a shower here."

"Fine."  Blair began rummaging through his bag.  "You got any clothes
here that I can borrow?  All of mine are dirty from the trip.  Good
thing this bag is waterproof, though."  He lifted out some clothes,
soiled only by his sweat from his journey, followed by a trinket
that he intended to give to Jim, and a green container.  "Here,"
he said, handing over the artifact.  "Brought you this back."

"What is it?"

"I'll explain later.  It's a little puzzle."

"Oh.  And what's in the container?"  Jim picked it up, trying to smell
the contents through the plastic barrier.

"That," explained Blair, "is a kind of candy.  It's made of some sort
of cactus.  One of the villagers I worked with for a couple of days gave
it to me before I left.  She said I'd like it."

Jim opened the container slightly.  The green of the container lent itself
to the contents, already a light shade of green.  "They don't smell
too good, Chief.  You want me to toss them?"

"No, no, they're fine," explained Blair.  "I had one on the train.
Well, a piece of one.  They're OK - not that sweet.  I like my candy
a little sweeter."  Blair searched, pulling a pink pair of sweats from
his bag that didn't seem too rank.

Grinning eyes greeted the sight of the shirt.  "What happened to your
clothes, Chief?" 

"Laundry mix-up.  You remember Bart?"

"What, the little idiot that went on the expedition with you and the
team?  Little guy?  Pointy hair?"

Blair tsked in disgust.  "Yeah, that's the one.  He got his 'lucky red hat'
dirty on one of the trips, so he tossed it in with the laundry on one of
the trips back to civilization to get supplies - *my* laundry.  My
*WHITE* laundry." 

It seemed this was Jim's day to catch up on his quota of laughs.  He's
been a bear for the last week while Blair had been gone, but he was
making up for it now.  "Sorry, Chief.  Can't help you in that department.
My locker's clean."

"Fine." He put the pink sweats to his nose, deciding the strong aroma
wasn't as bad as what he smelled of right then.  "These'll have to do.
Just get me to the showers."  Blair dropped his backpack on the side of
Jim's desk, ignoring the puzzle and open container of candy.  As they
passed Taggart's desk, he looked shocked as Joel aimed the can of Lysol
at him, threateningly.  He stopped following Jim, and went to Taggart's
side.  "What is it, guy?" He tried to get close to Taggart, who was
eyeing him menacingly.  "What, didn't you miss me?  Don't I get a welcome
back hug?"

"Get off me, Sandburg!"

The aborted hug now history, Blair gave Taggart his best pouty look.
"Aww... I'm hurt!  Admit it, Joel.  You just love me for my chili."

The expression, 'the way to a mans heart is through his stomach' was
not lost on Joel Taggart.  A big man, one of his main passions was good
food, and Blair's chili was at the top of that list.  "If it'll get
me a bowl of that ostrich-meat chili, I'll hug you."  He rubbed
his stomach, fondly remembering the taste.  "Damn!  You just have to
mention that stuff, and it's all I can think about for the rest of
the day.  You making another batch soon?"

"How about Saturday night?  We'll make a night of it.  Give me a
chance to make up some of the money I didn't win by missing the
last poker party."

Hunger filled Joel's eyes.  "Saturday night?  I'm there!"

"Cool!  I'll tell Jim."  Sandburg moved to claim his hug, but was
brushed off by the large fellow.  "Hey!  My hug!"

"Yeah, right.  Hit the showers, hairboy."

A mock sigh of rejection flung itself from Blair's lungs.  "Fine.
Foiled again."  Blair began to make his way to the back with Jim,
when he turned back to Taggart and the crew.  "Gents, there are some
treats in my backpack and in the container on Jim's desk.  I know
better than to not bring you guys back treats when I head out, now."
He remembered the play cold-shoulder he received when coming back
from a weekend study in Colorado, empty-handed.  "Have at it, boys!"  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The messy clothes now safely bagged up, Jim turned to see his lover
under the spray of water.  He stood back, taking in the lovely view
as the water spread over the sinewy body.  "Damn," he said, after he
was sure they were in the locker room alone.  "I missed you, Chief."

Blair opened his eyes, and focused on the immense body standing just
outside of the shower area that was groping itself.  At the sight,
he felt his own cock begin to rise under the warm jets of water.
"Don't do this to me, man.  Not here.  You don't know what being away
from you for six days does to me, man!"  Trying desperately to ignore
his approaching lover, he recited baseball statistics, Mayan chief
burial dates, anything.  When he finally reopened his eyes, his lover
stood dangerously close to the shower, pants down to his knees, stroking
his thick cock.  

"I gotta have you, Chief.  I can't wait to take you in my arms..."

"You were willing to wait until after I'd had a shower!"

His seductive concentration lost, Jim absently stroked his cock while
he tried to explain himself.  "Well... What do you expect?"  He pulled
his testicles slightly with his left hand, as his right continued to
stretch his cock.  "You were covered in...  What exactly were you
covered in?"

The memory of the trip - make that ordeal - from the airport came
back to him.  "Well, I was so pissed that you'd forgotten, that I just
grabbed a taxi and decided to come down here and bitch at you.  And,
I was so pissed that I forgot I only had ten bucks left, which
left me-"

"A couple of miles short."  Jim sighed.  "Jesus, Chief!  You should have
called."

"Yeah, well, I didn't.  So anyway, I told the cabbie, and he let me out
a mile from the station.  I figured I needed the walk, after the train
ride anyway, so I hoofed it.  I was making good time when my stomach
started hurting - probably from that candy Yuconda made for me."  Blair
stopped the flow of water, noting that Jim had tucked himself back into
his pants.  It was only then that he'd noticed one of the Vice cops at
a locker towards the end.  "Anyway, I had to stop.  I was *not* going
to make it back here without going to the bathroom."  Blair dried himself
off, and put on the sweat pants and shirt Jim held for him.  "So anyway,
I grabbed a port-a-potty at that construction site down the road, and
something freaked me.  That's all."

"Something freaked you?  In a port-a-potty?"  Jim chuckled maniacally.

Blair sighed.  "Jim, remember that X Files espisode that freaked me
out so much?  The one with the human tapeworm?"

Jim recalled that episode in his mind, smiling at the memory.  He loved
watching the show with Blair.  Besides the settings often reminding him
eerily of Cascade - some reason he couldn't put his finger on it - he
relished the scary episodes.  Those always found Blair cuddled up next
to him, shivering into Jim's side when the action with the monsters got
too much.  He'd never have guessed that his lover was squeamish about
a television show.  "Yeah?"

"Remember how I vowed never to go back in one of those things?" Jim nodded.
"Well, I broke that promise."  He began brushing his hair, and readying
himself back to being presentable in public.  "I tried not to think about
it, but when I was in there, I could have sworn I saw - something."

"What, Chief?"  Jim was trying to be sincere, but the giggles emanated
from his eyes from how they sparkled, instead of coming from his lips.

"That flukey thing."

The locker room was filled with laughter, as Jim howled.  Blair just sat
back, arms crossed, as his lover settled down.  He narrowed his eyes at
Jim.  Jim noticed, and tried to keep himself composed.

Blair rushed through his next statement.  "Anyway, I freaked, I went for
the door, but it was locked, and I screamed, which echoed and caused me
to freak more, and I pounded on the door and when it wouldn't budge I
tried to lean in and ram it, and instead of opening up it tipped over
and the contents spilled through the toilet and then I walked in here."

He could wait.  And wait he did.

After a good five minutes, Jim finally was able to keep from giggling,
as long as he didn't look at his partner.  Blair was more embarrassed about
the whole thing, and was somewhat lighthearted about the situation, but
still slightly annoyed by his lover.  After several false starts, with
each one sending Jim into a giggle-fit, he continued.  "So, what plans
do we have tonight?"

Jim lost a fight, letting loose a giggle.  "A fluke!  I'm flukeman!!!"
He reached out a hand towards Blair, trying to recreate a menacing
monster from a late-night B-movie scene.

"Jim, this is serious!"  Blair batted away the hand that toyed with
him.  "I *really* thought I saw something.  It was almost like I was
hallucinating or something."

The joviality of the situation drained from Jim's face, and he looked
at his lover more seriously.  "Hallucinations, Chief?  You need me to
take you to the doctor?"

"Naah."  Blair tried to lighten the mood again.  "Probably something I
ate, you know?  Just - OH SHIT!"

"What is it, Chief?"  Jim's eyes drew wide, as a look of terror overtook
his lover face.  

Before Blair was able to respond, a yell came from the bullpen.  "FIRE!!!
EVERYONE OUT!!!  FIRE!!!!"

"Shit!  That's Simon!"  Jim grabbed Blair's arm and began running towards
the main office.  "Come on!"

"But Jim!!!---"

Jim sailed out of the locker room, just in time to see his Captain make
a quick trip of the hallway, and bounded down the stairs.  His sentinel
senses at full alert, he began sniffing, trying to determine where the
fire was.  As Blair rejoined his side, he tried, but could only determine
the smell of one of Simon's cigars and a recently spent match.  

"Jim, I think I---"

Blair was cut off by Rafe, who was running at full speed after a fellow
police officer in full motorcycle-cop regalia, screaming, "Ponch!  Wait
for me, buddy!  Ponch!!!  Slow down!!!!!"

Pulling Blair up, Jim grabbed the pink material, almost barking at him.
"What the hell's going on, Sandburg?!?!?!"

"Jim, I think I know what caused that hallucination.  Remember that-"

Blair was cut short, as his body was thrown to the ground.  He opened his
eyes to see Jim stumbling backwards and tripping over a desk, as a
very deranged looking Taggart sat down on Blair.  "I'll make short order
of you!"  Taggart leaned down, his pearly teeth gleaming at Blair.

"Joel, No!" He struggled.  "Get off me, man!!!"

Taggart cocked his head and looked at Blair curiously.  "Well what do
you know?  This giant pink ostrich can talk!  How are you today, mister
ostrich?"  A look of terror in Blair's eyes confirmed what he'd been
hoping wasn't the case, and he began to struggle.  Pinning the squirming
body underneath him, Joel yelled.  "Now stop that right now!  You're
going to make yourself all stringy and tough!  I don't like my ostrich
meat tough!"

As the mouth opened into a wide grin, the pearly teeth almost blinded
Blair.  Being held by the larger man, he could do nothing but turn his
head and wait for the inevitable, for Taggart to take a hunk of him.
Hot breath burned his neck, and a drop of saliva dripped down onto his
skin.  

Just before Taggart could make contact, Blair heard a loud thump, and
was instantly covered by the larger man.  He sat still for an instant,
realizing that Taggart was not moving, and that he could not breath.
Arms flailing, he screamed and rocked back and forth, trying to get
the large body off of himself, when he felt his right arm being pulled.
he tried to lean left, and the unconscious body of one Joel Taggart
rolled off of him, as Jim pulled him up to the safety of his arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, Chief.  You want to fill out the reports for this, or shall I?"

The lovers shared an easy laugh, easing off the tension of the last
couple of hours.  "Oh man.  I should have known."

"Chief, it wasn't your fault.  She didn't tell you that she used peyote,
did she?"

"No, but still.  Damn, how could I have been so naive?"

Jim put his arm around his lover, pulling him close.  "Don't worry about
it.  Just be careful next time, OK?"

"Damn straight."  The doctor appeared, a grin still on his face from
the tales he'd heard.  "Hey!  How're they gonna be, doc?"

Doctor Mathews smiled.  "They're gonna be just fine.  I'm going to keep
them under observation for the next eight hours, but I'll release them
after.  The peyote has been counteracted, but I still want to be sure
there aren't any side effects."  

"Good."  Jim added.  "If any of them need rides home, just tell them to
call us, OK?"

"Will do.  Oh, and Mister Sandburg?  I would suggest that you dispose of
the rest of that 'candy' post haste.  You wouldn't want any more of these
little episodes, would you?  What was it again?  Hallucinating a building
fire from a single lit match, imagining seeing one of your childhood tv
heroes, a giant pink ostrich...."

"Already done, doc.  Thanks."

"You can go back and see them, if you wish."

The pair looked at each other, then replied in unison, "Naaahhh."

End

   _______________________________________________________________________________

   Tidbit #2

   Rafe and Henry sat back at the table, smiling at what they saw. For one of the first
   times ever, Blair Sandburg sat across from them, stunned and totally speechless.

   "What?" he stammered. "What are you saying, Jim?"

   The  large  detective  sat next to his partner, and very matter of factly stated, "I
   said  that  I  think  we should have kids." Jim knew he was throwing his lover for a
   loop, and was totally enjoying himself.

   Rafe  was  the first to break the silence. "So, um, not to get too personal, but how
   would you guys do this? Would it be yours, Jim? Or Blair, yours?"

   Henry  Brown  was  now  staring  at  Rafe,  wondering  how he got suckered into this
   universe.  Obviously  the dinner had derailed somewhere about five minutes previous.
   And this was one train he wasn't sure he wanted to be on.

   Before  the  couple  could  answer,  Rafe continued. "Oh, I know! Once you guys find
   someone to carry the baby, maybe you would both go in on it together." An easy smile
   crossed his handsome face. "You know, kind of like putting it in a blender on puree,
   then load up the turkey baster-"

   Blair  finally spoke, his jaw firmly back in place from where it had been resting on
   the  floor. "No, no, no, no, no, no. It's either his or mine. No mingling of juices.
   That would be too weird."       

   A  puzzled look made it's way across Jim's face. "What? What's wrong with that idea?
   Unless  of  course,  you'd like to carry the baby yourself, Chief." A grin displayed
   itself beautifully, and the blue of his eyes danced across to his partner.

   "Are  you  kidding?" Blair asked, and incredulous tone to his voice. "You know, even
   with the strives in science and medical breakthroughs aside, do you even know what a
   woman  goes through? All those hormonal changes. Everything they have to put up with
   for nine months? No way, man. No way."

   The  smile  on  Jim's  face  was  replaced quickly by a fake pout, causing the other
   detectives to smile. As he tried to respond, digging Blair deeper and deeper, he was
   cut off by a now flustered Blair.                

   "Ain't  no  way,  no how, no sir." Blair began to pick at his food, pausing a second
   for  the  others  to  do  the  same  before  he  started  in again. "Besides, you're
   forgetting the main point, man."       

   As  the  other men munched, not taking the bait, Henry stopped mid way in picking up
   his  drink.  Leaning  in inquisitively, he asked, "And that would be?" He lifted the
   glass to his lips, taking a nice draw from it.

   Blair  cleared  his throat and declared quietly to the three men accompanying him at
   the table, "Butt babies don't live."

   And  every  occupant  of  the  restaurant turned as three grown men began choking on
   their  food  and  drinks,  as the man with the beautiful long, curly hair laughed as
   he'd never laughed before.