Notes: This is the sequel to Buzz Cut. It makes more sense if you read it first.
Furry!Blair and Tactile!Jim are courtesy of Alyjude. Thanks again. Thanks also to WoD, who betaed even though I am a pushy broad, and fearlessly corralled herds of wild semi-colons.
This is for Trilly, who asked for a sequel.
Hairboy
From the Journal of Blair Sandburg
April 6
The day started out innocently enough. Jim was going to be stuck in court all day, and I was going to spend the day in my office grading exams. I had midterms to grade, and then two whole weeks free for spring break. Since our last vacation was such a wash out, I was really looking forward to spending two uninterrupted weeks with Jim. All I had to do was get grades posted. Ha!
I went to my office, and, being highly motivated, I graded like a demon. But a man can only take so many blue books before he goes berserk. Since the University frowns on Teaching Fellows running through the halls shrieking, I decided to take a break and get some coffee. I should have opted for shrieking.
I've heard all the jokes about being a trouble magnet, about needing a keeper, but honestly, it wasn't my fault. I went to the lounge to get coffee, and I ran into Terri, another TA. Terri is very pregnant. She was trying to get her midterms posted so she could start her maternity leave. We chatted a little, and I walked her back to her office. I thought she looked a little pale, but she said she was fine.
That was when the trouble started.
This huge guy comes bursting into her office, demanding that she change his grade. I'm talking seriously large, here. He was easily as tall as Simon, and at least twice his weight. It was pretty obvious he was on something. I tried to talk to him, see if I could defuse the situation, instead, he pulled out a big knife. I suppose I've been hanging around Jim too long since being threatened by a psycho with a knife doesn't faze me, but Terri doesn't have that experience. She started screaming, and suddenly, I'm not trying to talk down a distraught student, I'm in the middle of a hostage situation. As the hostage.
At this point I was getting pissed. I have a hulking drugged-out psycho holding a knife at my throat, a nearly hysterical TA about to go into labor, the Campus Police milling around outside trying to figure out what's going on in here, and I STILL have a huge stack of exams to be graded.
I talked the hulk into letting Terri go. Then Hulk decides he wants out, so he grabs me by my hair and hauls me in front of him and we go for a walk. We get outside the building, where the entire Campus Police force is waiting. I'm getting ready to make my move when the hulk gets tangled up in his feet. The knife slips, there's a sharp pain across my ear, and I'm free. I step back out of range and I look at this guy. He's still standing there, knife in one hand, and a handful of hair in the other. A big handful. Of MY hair.
I kind of lost it then. The idiot lunged at me, so I dropped him. Training with Jim obviously paid off. He was still curled in a ball and whimpering when the EMTs hauled him away.
I made my statement to the Campus Police while another EMT cleaned and bandaged the little cut on my ear. Then I went back to my office and made a call.
"Shear Delight. This is Janis, how can I help you?"
"Janis? This is Blair Sandburg. I have an emergency, is there any way you can fit me in today?"
"For you, Honey, I'll find the time. Can you be here in half an hour?"
"Sure. I really appreciate it."
"No problem. What happened?"
"Janis, it's a long story. I'll tell you when I get there."
Janis, my stylist, has been cutting my hair for a long time. I've followed her to three studios and to her own salon. She took one look at me, and hustled me into a chair. I got a good look at the damage. The hulk managed to take out a good-sized swath across the right side of my head, about an inch from my scalp. Janis and I agreed it all had to come off. I wasn't about to go around looking like a refugee from an 80's pop band.
I couldn't watch her work. I kept my eyes closed, and Janis fussed over me and tried to distract me with funny stories and gossip, but all the while I could hear the snip-snip of the scissors, and feel the brush of the clumps of hair as they fell.
All too quickly, Janis was finished. I hadn't made this change by choice, but it was done. I took in a deep breath and opened my eyes. I didn't recognize the man in the mirror. His short, dark hair curled softly away from his face. He wasn't ME, but he wasn't the geeky teenager I remembered from the last time I had short hair, either. In fact, he wasn't bad looking. I let out the breath I didn't remember holding. Janis told me I looked good enough to eat, and did I want to join her for lunch? I gave her a rather shaky laugh, but relaxed a bit. I could deal with this.
I still had way too many exams to grade, but I'd had enough of the U for the day. I went home to finish grading exams.
By the time Jim came home, I had dinner ready, and had made a decent sized dent in my stack of exams. Even though Cascade PD wasn't involved, and he'd been in court all day, Jim knew about the 'incident". Before he was through the door, he was asking how I was. Then he got a good look at me.
Jim was pole axed. He had this dazed look on his face, and he kept staring at me. He barely noticed the nick on my ear. He was uncommunicative at dinner, even for Jim. Finally, I asked him what was wrong.
"Dammit, Jim, what is wrong with you? You're staring at me like I have two heads, and I swear you haven't heard a thing I've said!"
"Nothing, Chief, I'm fine."
"Don't pull that crap with me, James Ellison! You're sulking over my hair."
"I'm not sulking. It's just, you know, I really loved your hair long."
"Well, it's gone now, so deal with it. It's just hair, Jim. It'll grow back. It would have been nice if you had worried about how I am. After all, I was held at knifepoint by some psycho today, but, no, you're moaning about my hair. There's more to me than hair, Jim, I thought YOU knew that."
"Chief, Blair, I..."
"I really don't want to hear it right now, Jim. I have exams to grade."
He said, in this really disappointed tone, that it was my hair, and I just lost it. I yelled at him and basically locked myself in my office.
He's got the Jags game on TV now. I'm sure he's waiting for me to come out so we can talk. I'm not ready yet, and I really do have exams to grade. I hate midterms.
April 7
I finally finished grading exams last night. Jim gave up and went to bed about midnight. I finished a little after two a.m. By then I'd calmed down enough to recognize that I was acting like a jerk. I wasn't processing this hair thing as well as I thought I was. I got ready for bed knowing I had some apologizing to do in the morning.
I quietly got into bed. Jim didn't really wake, but he rolled over and pulled me close. One hand reached up and patted the pillow by my head. He made this desolate little whimper. I moved closer, and he wrapped one arm and leg around me, so I couldn't get away. As I soothed him back to sleep, I had an epiphany.
I never really internalized that as often as I fell asleep with Jim petting my belly, I awoke with one of Jim's hands tangled in my hair. When he sleeps, Jim uses my hair as an anchor, or maybe a tether. He can truly relax, and he knows I'm not going to leave without waking him. I think it is a strange combination of sentinel instincts and Jim's own abandonment issues.
I fell asleep with Jim wrapped tightly around me.
Neither one of us remembered to set the alarm, so the morning was a mad dash to get ready. Jim accepted my apology, but he was incredibly gentle with me, like he was afraid I was going to fly off the handle again. Jim left for the station, and I for the U. I had grades to post, then I would have the rest of the day free to help Jim.
I thought more about last night. Jim has always had a bit of a hair fetish. Even before we were lovers, he would find reasons to touch my hair. Since we've been lovers, he's given it free reign. First, there's the whole petting thing. And when he kisses me, Jim always ends up with at least one handful of hair. One of my favorite things is to be fully Jimkissed. He leans me back against whatever surface is convenient, wraps both hands into my hair, tilts my head up and kisses me like it's more essential than breathing. I of course, take full advantage of the situation and expose as much of his skin to my touch as I can. It's not just foreplay, it's an erotic experience in itself.
Jim plays with my hair every chance he gets. He'll wash my hair, or brush my hair, or fiddle with my ponytail.
It's even a major component of our sex play. Jim's entire body is an erogenous zone. I like, sorry, liked, to trail my hair across his body, to tease him with feathery tickles, or rub my head against his chest. Or lean forward while I'm riding him, and curtain us in hair, and drop kisses on his lips while he thrusts deep inside me.
God! No wonder he was so freaked. And I was so busy freaking out myself that I didn't notice. I knew we could work through this, but we needed to work together.
I posted my grades and headed to the station. I was so busy analyzing Jim's reactions that I hadn't thought about anyone else. When the Desk Sergeant did an obvious double take I finally wondered how my new look was going to go over in Major Crimes.
I felt really vulnerable walking into the bullpen, very exposed. I had a sudden sympathy for the antelope; I could almost feel the lions closing in. I knew I was being fanciful, but that didn't stop the adrenaline rush.
"Excuse me, Sir, can I help you...Hairboy?"
"Hey, H."
"You, you...your hair!"
"I can see why you're a detective, man. Nothing slips by you."
Jim basically hovered over me as I regaled the crew with my exploits from yesterday. He hustled me off to his desk the first chance he got. Ostensibly, it was so we could clear out all of his paperwork so we could go on vacation, but if anyone got too close, Jim gave them his patented Ellison Death Glare, and they found something else to do. Megan came over anyway, to talk to me. She reached out and touched my hair, and Jim actually growled at her.
Jim was being hyper-territorial, so I figured the most prudent thing to do was finish as fast as we could and get out, preferably before someone got hurt. We polished off the paperwork in record time. We checked in with Simon before we left. He let us go, but not before pulling me aside and telling me to "fix" Jim before I brought him back. Jim just glowered at him. Fortunately, Simon is immune to the Ellison Death Glare.
Since we worked through lunch, I suggested an early dinner of take-out. As twitchy as Jim was, I didn't want to try to eat in public. I thought a full belly and a safe environment might make it easier to figure out how to settle us both down.
I think Jim would rather roll naked in a rosebush than talk about emotional stuff, but I coaxed him over to the sofa so we could talk. I did not want to spend the next two weeks with him hovering and snarling while he worked this out.
I told him I was sorry I freaked out yesterday, and I understood about his hair fetish. I told him that I knew he loved me, not just my hair, and it really would grow back soon. Then, Jim completely surprised me. He told me that wasn't the problem at all.
"Huh?"
"Don't get me wrong, Chief. I do like your hair long, and it was a shock for it to suddenly be short. But it doesn't bother me. In fact, I like it like this, too."
"Then explain to me, Jim, what this afternoon was about?"
"youretoosexy"
"I didn't quite catch that."
"I said, you're too sexy. You are so beautiful. And with your hair short, your eyes look bigger and bluer. Your galleon is more pronounced, and your mouth just begs for kissing. You look younger, and at the same time, you look wiser. All those other cops, the ones who didn't like the long hair, will take one look at you and want you, too."
"Jim. Listen to me, and make sure you really hear me, okay? I don't want anybody else. Just you. You said I was beautiful, but you are the beautiful one. Not just outside, even if you've got a body that makes angels weep, but inside, where it counts. Sure sometimes you're pig-headed and grumpy, but you're also gentle, compassionate and romantic. You're smart and you're funny, and I need you like I need to breathe. You are perfect for me, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone."
"Jesus, Blair...I don't deserve you, you know."
"Jim..."
"I know...you wouldn't trade me for anyone. Not even George Clooney?"
"Nah. He's not you. Besides, he already has a sidekick."
"Hmm. Mel Gibson?"
"Homophobic."
"Tom Cruise?"
"Eeuww. Maybe Nicole Kidman though..."
"Smartass."
He was worried I would leave. Those abandonment issues again. As if I could ever leave him.
We cuddled on the couch for a while. It was so nice just to hold him, be held by him. I felt like we were back in synch again.
Eventually, we had to move. We still had packing to do for our vacation. Jim hates to leave packing for the last minute.
He's being really mysterious about this vacation. I know he worked out something with Stephen, but he wants to surprise me, so I don't have any details. We packed general basics, so I had no clues there.
It's almost time for bed. If I work at it, maybe I can convince him to tell me where we're going. It'll be fun trying, anyway.
April 8
Well, I didn't find out where we're going. I made a much more important discovery, though.
Jim has a thing for napes, too.
I worked very hard to convince Jim to tell me what I wanted to know, but he was resisting. Probably Covert Ops training. One minute I had the upper hand - Jim was on the edge, almost begging for release, then, wham, next thing I know, I'm cuffed to the railing at the head of the bed.
Jim laid me out so carefully, making sure I was comfortable, no undue strain on my arms, then he went to work. He mapped me with his senses. He went over every inch of me, not quite touching. Just feeling me. He would pause, look at me, lean in close, and scent me, breathing me into him. He was so intent, so focused, like I was the center of his universe. It was incredibly erotic.
He worked his way across the front of my body, first my arms, then up my legs, then around my chest. By the time he reached my belly I was begging, literally. I just kept repeating please, please. I'm not sure what I was asking for, to stop or don't stop. When he reached my cock, I thought, yes, finally. But he didn't touch me. Just looking, scenting, and not quite touching. I arched up and cried out, but Jim just leaned back and laughed wickedly.
He reached for my arms, and I thought I would get relief, but instead, he gently turned me over onto my belly. He started again, his sweet torture, this time working his way up from my feet. I was beyond words now. I just moaned and whimpered. I could feel him, but not see him, as he mapped me, feel his breaths, all the way up my body, up my back.
He reached the nape of my neck, undiscovered territory, and he paused there. I could feel him looking, touching but not touching, his breath warm on my neck, then the moist heat of his tongue as he tasted me. It was too much. I arched up as pleasure exploded across my nerve endings. I saw stars and suns, and galaxies. I cried out, and I came. I shuddered and twitched, I felt heat streaking across my back. Jim came, too, I thought, and I slid into darkness.
When I came to, I was all cleaned up and tucked under the covers. Jim was spooned up behind me, one leg wrapped around me, petting my belly.
"Welcome back."
"Mmmm"
"Liked that, did you?"
"Mmmm"
"Me too."
"Mm"
"Go back to sleep, Blair."
"Love you."
"Love you too."
I still don't know where we're going on vacation, but I don't care. I have a sneaking suspicion it won't matter. I doubt if I'll see anything but the bedroom.
Jim is out running a last few errands. We're leaving as soon as he gets back. His last stop is at the barber's. He's getting a buzz cut. I can't wait for our vacation to start.
