Email: slashgirl@gmail.com

WARNING: DEATH STORY, people, suicide warning (moderately graphic, but then I
read Stephen King, so...)

Not the one
by Stacy L.A. Stronach, December 1997


Blair looked up from the papers he was marking, watching Jim
getting ready to leave the loft. He obviously had a hot date,
again, he was wearing a deep crimson silk shirt, and very tight
black jeans. Blair felt a twinge of jealousy, as he asked, "You
gotta hot date tonight, Jim?"


"Yes," Jim replied, grabbing his coat off the hook and heading
out the door.


Blair sighed with exasperation. This had been going on for a
few weeks, Jim going out almost every night, not getting in
til late, and he wouldn't tell Blair a single thing about the
woman he was seeing. Deciding that he'd try and find out what was going
on, Blair got up, grabbed his coat and keys, heading for
his car.


As Jim drove the truck through the traffic, he glanced in his
rear view mirror, then looked again. Damnit, Sandburg was trying
to follow him! He'd figured this would happen eventually, the
younger man was so damn nosey, and Jim could tell it bugged him
that he wasn't sharing all with Blair. It didn't take Jim long
to lose Blair, after all the younger man wasn't a cop.


Blair slammed his hands against the steering wheel when he
realized he'd lost Jim. He should've known better than to try and tail
a cop, especially one with Jim's senses. As he drove home,
he started to worry about how Jim would react to this, he'd
probably kill him, Blair figured he'd try the innocent act,
hopefully it would work.


When Jim arrived home around midnight, Blair was still up,
working on a lesson. Blair braced himself for the angry lecture
he was sure was coming, but Jim merely said goodnight and went up to
his room, leaving a slightly confused Blair looking after him. Blair
wondered why Jim hadn't said anything about his trying to
follow him, but he wasn't about to ask.


That Thursday, at the station, Jim told Blair he was going away
for the weekend. Trying to be casual, Blair asked, "Oh, where are you
going, man?"


"To visit a friend of mine."


"Ohhh, I see, so you're going to stay with your new girlfiend,
huh?"


If looks were lethal, Blair would've been very close to death.
"Believe what you want to, Chief," Jim replied.


"Jim, c'mon, you can tell me about her, hell, I'd love to meet
her, she must be pretty special--"


Blair shut up when Jim leaned over the desk, his jaw clenching,
and in a low, angry voice, said, "Maybe I just want to have a
little bit of a private life, Chief. To have a part of my life
that you don't know about, can't interfere with, can't test! Do
you get it?"


Simon, who'd been watching the exchange from his office door, saw Blair's
face fall, saw the deep hurt in those blue eyes.
"Ellison, my office. Now!" he barked.


Obeying his Captain's summons, Jim went into Simon's office.
Closing the door and making sure the blinds were drawn, Simon
went over behind Jim and enfolded the smaller man in a hug. "You
shouldn't be so harsh with Blair, he's just trying to be a
friend, Jim."


Placing his arms over Simon's and relaxing into the embrace, Jim
replied, "I know, Simon, it's just been such a long week, and
sometimes I can't handle his prying."


"Well, starting tomorrow night, you'll be able to sit back and
relax, for the entire weekend. I'll spoil you," Simon said,
turning Jim to face him, capturing his mouth for a quick, chaste
kiss. Jim sighed, laying his head on Simon's shoulder, enjoying
the feeling of being in this man's arms.


After a few minutes, Jim spoke, "I guess I should get back to
work, huh, Captain."


"Yes, I suppose you should, Detective," Simon replied, smiling,
and releasing the other man.


Blair waited until Jim was sitting down, "Jim, look, about
earlier, I'm sorry for prying, you were right, man, it ain't any
of my business."


"Apology accepted, Chief, and I shouldn't have come down on you
so hard. It's just that this relationship is new, and special to
me, and I need time with it."


"Hey, man, I understand, it's okay," Blair replied. Although he
had apologized to Jim, Blair was still determined to find out who this
woman was, and why Jim didn't want him to meet her. So, when Jim had
to go down to forensics to pick up some files, Blair made a quick call
to a car rental agency.


Friday morning at breakfast, Blair begged off going into the
station, claiming he had some work to catch up on at the
university, which wasn't really a lie. However, Blair had other
plans for that afternoon, and he didn't want Jim to suspect
anything.


Blair arrived at the station about a half hour before Jim was due to
leave, and looking in the parking garage, he saw the truck was still
there. *Thank the gods he didn't decide to leave early.*
Blair thought as he sat in the rental car, waiting for Jim to
come out. He knew the older man would be going straight to his
galpal's cus he'd taken his stuff with him this morning.


At a little after 4, Blair saw Jim's truck pull out of the
parking garage and he started the car and followed at a discreet
distance. He had his hair pulled back, a ballcap, and sunglasses on,
hoping that if Jim did notice him, he wouldn't recognize him.


Jim looked in his rearview mirror, he was checking for the
Corvair, figuring Blair might try to follow him again, so he paid no
attention to the burgundy Corsica which was well behind him.


When Jim arrived at Simon's he pulled the truck into the garage,
smiling when he saw Simon come out to greet him. Simon enfolded
the younger man into his arms, pressing his lips hard against
Jim's, his tongue demanding entrance to that sweet mouth.
Moaning, Jim acquiesced, loving the feel of Simon's velvety
tongue, searching his mouth, tasting him. Jim's tongue snaked
into Simon's mouth, savouring the flavours there, from the taste
of just "Simon" to the taste of the beer Simon'd just had,
coffee from earlier, and...pineapple? Breaking the kiss, Jim
asked, "You had a pineapple danish this afternoon, didn't you?"


"Yes, I did."


"Simon, you know how much I hate pineapple! I wish you wouldn't
eat it, it seems like I can taste in on you for days after!" Jim
whined. "And you're supposed to be watching your cholesterol!"


"I'm sorry, but I've really grown to like them. Besides, they're
the only kind you won't steal from me!" Simon replied, and both men
laughed, as Simon took Jim's hand and lead him into the
house.


Blair sat in the Corsica, looking into Simon's garage with a look of
mostly dismay, with a little amazement. He couldn't believe
what he'd just seen. Jim. And Simon. Kissing. Like there was no
tomorrow. Blair drove back to the rental agency in a kind of
daze, not knowing what to think, or what to do about his
discovery.


Jim turned over, so he was laying facing Simon, as they stretched out
on the couch, and placed a kiss on his lover's mouth, his
tongue demanding entrance, which it received. Simon returned the
kiss, his hands sliding down Jim's body, loving the feel of his
lover's flesh under his hands, and slid his hands under Jim's
sweat pants, grabbing his ass and grinding Jim against him. Even
through the cloth of their sweatpants, Jim could feel the heat of Simon's
erection against his, it made him groan. Breaking the
kiss, Jim licked and kissed his way to Simon's ear, sucking the
lobe into his mouth, scraping it with his teeth as he released
it, blowing across the wet flesh, making Simon squirm. "I want
you, Simon, I want you to fuck me," Jim whispered in Simon's ear, feeling
the shiver it caused in the other man.


"Yes, my love, but let's go up to the bedroom," Simon replied.
Once there, the two men undressed each other, and Simon gently
lowered Jim onto the bed, covering him with his body, capturing
his mouth in a kiss. Simon slowly kissed his way down Jim's neck, leaving
a couple of love bites on the way. Moving down, he gently nipped one
of Jim's nipples, making the smaller man arch off of
the bed and moan. Leaving a wet trail as he kissed his way across Jim's
abdomen, Simon delighted in the feeling of Jim's muscles
rippling in reaction.


Jim closed his eyes, he didn't know how much more of this he
could take, the feel of Simon's mouth on his body was like a
sweet torture, his hands softly stroking the areas of his body
that his mouth wasn't touching. The smell of Simon's arousal
flooded his senses and he could hear their hearts beating, in
unison. Jim almost came when he felt Simon's mouth sucking on his balls
and then move up to lick the underside of Jim's erection.
"Oh Simon, pleasepleaseplease!" Jim begged.


Simon licked the precum of Jim's cock, then sucked the head into
his mouth, before taking the entire length in his mouth, he moved up
and down the length a few times, before letting it go. Jim
whimpered in protest, as Simon moved up to kiss him, and reached
into the nightstand for the lube and condoms. Simon spread the
lube on his fingers, and pushed them into Jim, preparing him. Jim lifted
his legs over Simon's shoulders, and started thrusting
against the fingers in his ass, moaning when Simon removed them.
As Simon quickly rolled the condom over his erection, Jim
growled, "Fuck me hard, Simon, do it!"


Simon complied, driving his cock all the way into Jim on the
first thrust, and started a hard, fast rhythm, stroking Jim's
cock in time with his thrusting into the other man. He loved the
feeling of being inside Jim, and Simon loved that he could fuck
Jim so hard. Jim was the first lover he'd ever had who was
anywhere near his own size, and it was a wonderful feeling to not have
to worry about hurting his partner. With all the stimulation it didn't
take long for Jim to orgasm, with a rough, throaty
scream, causing his ass to squeeze Simon, making the older man
come with a hard thrust into Jim. Simon moaned, and they just lay there
for a few minutes, panting, trying to settle down. Finally, Simon withdrew
from his lover, and, after discarding the condom,
lay down and pulled Jim into his embrace. They just held each
other for a little while, trying to recover.


Simon kissed Jim's forehead, his eyelids, cheeks, finally
planting a slow, lazy kiss on the other man's lips. Jim returned
the kiss, loving the feeling of being so cherished by another
person. "Oh, Simon, you make me feel so loved, like no other
person has, I love you."


"I love you, Jim. My life has changed so much in these
last few weeks... I never expected what happened, but I am so
glad that it did, Jim," Simon whispered.


"I know, Simon," Jim replied, sleepily, as he snuggled in closer
to his lover. The two men soon fell asleep.


On his way home from the rental agency, Blair had stopped to pick up
a bottle of vodka, he wanted to have enough to drink to make
him pass out, but not enough to give him a hangover. He found
that after a couple large vodka's he was dead tired, but it
wasn't enough alcohol to cause a hangover. As Blair sat there,
sipping on his vodka and fruit juice, he got angry at Jim. *I'm
the one you're supposed to love Jim, not Simon. How could you do
this to me?* His more rational side shot back *How could Jim know that
you wanted him, you never told him, never encouraged him, so you know
there's only one person to be mad at-us*. Not liking
this answer, he thought of ways he could get back at the two men
for doing this to him. He thought about telling Sara MacKinley
in records that he'd heard a rumour that the two men were lovers, that
would make sure every one in the station heard. Or, he could tell Simon's
ex-wife about the affair, she was the bitchy sort.


Blair started out of his vengeance fantasies, realizing that the
last thing he would ever do is hurt Jim, he loved him, and as for Simon,
well, he would never want to separate Simon from his son.
Blair knew the pain that comes with not knowing your father, not
being able to see him. He'd never do that to Daryl. Besides, it
was Blair's own hesitation that had done this, how could Jim know how
he felt, if he didn't say anything? Sometimes, Blair wished
his brain had an off switch, so he wouldn't have to think about
things. After he finished his second drink, he went to bed and
cried himself into a deep, thankfully dreamless, sleep.


When Jim arrived back at the loft late Sunday afternoon, he was
in a very good mood. Simon had kept his word, and spoiled Jim,
terribly so. Jim smiled as he thought of his lover. He expected
an interrogation from his Guide, but Blair merely sat on the
couch, watching TV, he barely acknowledged that Jim was home.


"What Chief? No inquisition about my weekend? I'm surprised, you
were so interested before," Jim teased gently.


Looking blandly at Jim, Blair spoke, quietly, "I really don't
give a flying fuck what you did this weekend or who you did it
with, Jim." He then turned his attention back to the TV.


"And here I was going to tell you who I'm seeing. I guess I won't now."


Blair snorted, looking at Jim disinterestedly, "What, you were
going to try and shock me with the news that you're fucking Simon Banks?"


Jim turned and looked at his friend in surprise, "How the hell
did you know?"


"I followed you on Friday. I rented a car, I figured the Corvair
was a little obvious. And I saw you and Simon kissing. So, what's the
big deal, man?"


"It doesn't bother you? I mean my being with a man, with Simon?"


"What business is it of mine who you fuck, Jim? I don't care.
Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried
about. Nobody's business but yours and Simon's," Blair said,
returning his attention to the television.


Jim was worried about the change, almost radical change, in
Blair's attitude. Last week he'd been itching to know who Jim was seeing,
hell, he'd rented a car to follow him! And now he didn't
give a damn? Sitting down beside his friend, Jim put his hand on
Blair's arm to get his attention. When Blair looked at him, his
eyes dull, Jim asked, "Blair, is something wrong? Did you break
up with your girlfriend this weekend or something?"


"Or something. That I'd rather not discuss with you. Now, will
you please leave me alone, Jim? I'm trying to watch this show."


"C'mon, Blair, you can talk to me about whatever it is, it's
obviously something big. I'm your friend."


"Well, friend, maybe I don't want to fucking talk about it with you,
or with anyone. Now will you please leave me alone?" Blair asked, a
spark of anger in his voice.


Six weeks later....


Gathering the clothes he was taking with him to Simon's, Jim
listened with half an ear as he heard his Guide finally get out
of bed, then go into the bathroom and start drawing a bath.
Blair had spent almost the last week huddled in his bed, barely
even talking to Jim when the older man would attempt it. Jim
didn't think his friend was eating all that much, either, and
when he'd asked what was wrong, Blair'd mumbled something about
having some sort of flu bug or something, and he refused to go
see a doctor. Ever since the night Blair revealed he knew about
Jim's relationship with Simon, the younger man had become more
and more withdrawn, and Jim was now getting really worried, Blair was
just acting so strange. He decided to talk to Simon about it this weekend,
see what his lover thought he should do, Jim just
felt so out of his depth when it came to things like this. As he left
the loft, he called out, "Hey, Chief, I'm leaving now, see
ya on Sunday," and, listening, he heard Blair's grunt of
acknowledgement.


Jim was out to the truck when he realized he'd left his wallet on the
kitchen table, so he went back up to get it. When he walked
in, he heard Blair, moaning and crying, and he smelled
something... it was blood! *My god, Blair must have hurt himself* Jim
thought as he ran to the bathroom. Finding the door locked,
he yelled, "Blair, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself,
c'mon, open the door!"


"Go 'way, man, leave me alone," came the whispered reply.
Focusing his hearing, he could tell that Blair's pulse/heart
rates were much lower than normal. Without hesitating, Jim kicked the
door in, and was in time to see Blair getting ready to stab a knife into
his left wrist, his right wrist was already slashed,
from under his palm, halfway up his forearm, blood gushing
out. "Ohmigod!! Blair, what the fuck are you doing?" Jim said,
rushing over and grabbing the knife from Blair's weak hand. Jim
grabbed a towel, wrapped it around the wound on Blair's arm, then used
Blair's t-shirt to tie it in place, trying to stop the
bleeding. Picking the smaller man up out of the tub, Jim put the
pair of sweat pants that were lying there, on him. He rushed for
the door, going by the couch to grab the blanket off of it and
wrap it around the younger man, to keep him warm.


He put his friend in the passenger side of the truck, then jumped in,
turning on the sirens and lights and burned it towards the
hospital. He could hear the weakness of Blair's pulse and heart
beat, they were slow, but steady, and didn't seem to be falling
any more. Getting his cell phone out, he dialled the hospital,
telling them the situation, so they'd be waiting for him. He
heard Blair mumbling under his breath, "Just let me die, I'm
worthless, nobody cares about me. Just let me die, I can't stand
my life anymore."


The pain in Blair's voice cut right through to Jim's soul, Gods,
he should've been able to see this coming, why didn't he? Jim
called Simon, his voice unsteady, "Simon, Blair just tried to
kill himself, I'm taking him to Cascade General right now,
please, meet me there."


"Of course, Jim, I'll be there right away," Simon said,
and rushed to get to the hospital.


When Jim arrived at the hospital, the orderlies were waiting with a gurney
and they carefully removed Blair from the truck then
rushed him into the emergency room, with Jim following close
behind.


Once inside, they made Jim stay in the waiting room, where he
paced back and forth, trying to listen to what was going on, but
he was so upset, he wasn't able to focus his hearing. He nearly
jumped out of his skin when Simon touched him on the shoulder.


Sliding his arm around the younger man's shoulders, Simon led Jim over
to sit down. "Jim, have you heard anything?" he asked
quietly, trying to calm his lover down.


"No, Simon. I...I can't get my hearing to focus. Goddamn him!
Why'd he have to do this? Why?" Jim whispered, his voice hoarse
with emotion.


"I don't know, Jim. I've sent Rafe and Brown over to investigate
the scene. If there's a note, they'll find it. Jim, I'm so sorry
this happened. I'm here, babe, I'm here for you," Simon said,
holding Jim a little closer.


Forty minutes later, a tired looking woman walked into the
waiting room. "Who's here for...Blair Sandburg?" she asked.


"We are," Jim said, quickly walking over to the woman. "How is
he? Will--"


"I'm Dr. MacGuire, and you are...?" she asked.


"I'm his partner, we work together, um, Jim Ellison. Goddamn it
doctor, how is he?" Jim demanded.


"Mr. Ellison, I'm so very sorry, but...Mr. Sandburg didn't make
it, he lost far too much blood. We did the best we could..." Dr.
MacGuire trailed off. She watched as the big man seemed to almost crumple
in on himself, his only support the equally large black
man beside him.


He couldn't believe it, Blair wouldn't leave him. Blair couldn't
leave him. After a couple of minutes, Jim gained tenuous control
of his emotions. "I need to see his...his body."


Simon looked at him, "Jim are sure that's such a good idea?"


"Simon, I have to see his body, or I don't think I'll ever
believe it...I have to. Doctor?" he asked.


"Right this way, sir. Does Mr. Sandburg have any family we should contact?"
she asked.


"He worked with the police department, Doctor. I'm Captain Simon
Banks, we'll look after telling his mother," Simon said. "Jim, do you
want me to come with you?"


"No, Simon, I need to do this alone, thanks," Jim answered,
following the doctor down the hall.


Jim stared into the lifeless face of his partner, his friend, his Guide.
Finally able to focus his hearing...he heard nothing. No
heartbeat, no pulse, no respiration. It was true, Blair was gone. Jim
turned and slowly walked out of the room.


Simon watched as Jim walked toward him, face devoid of all
emotion, his eyes almost blank. "Jim, I want you to come, and
stay at my place, tonight. I don't think you should stay by
yourself."


Jim just nodded, leaning against his lover, as Simon put an arm
around him and led him out to the car. "I'll send somebody for
the truck, okay?"


As Simon pulled out of the hospital parking lot, Jim spoke.
"Simon, I need to go back to the loft. See if he left a note or
anything. I have to know why..."


"Jim, I don't think that's a very good idea. If there's anything
there, Brown and Rafe will find it," Simon answered.


"Please, Simon, I need to do this," Jim said, very quietly,
looking at his lover.


Simon turned his head, looking into Jim's now pain-filled blue
eyes. "Okay, Jim. We'll go," he acquiesced.


When they arrived at the loft, Rafe and Brown were just finishing up
their investigation. "Simon, we found this. It was addressed
to Jim, so we figured we should let him open it...Not exactly
procedure, I know, but..." Brown trailed off.


"It's okay, H. So, it was definitely...?" he asked.


Brown nodded, then handed the letter to Jim, and he and Rafe
left, to give Jim some privacy. Sitting down on the couch, Jim,
with trembling fingers, opened the letter. As he read the letter, tears
started rolling down his face, and as it dropped from his
fingers, he kept repeating over, and over, "No, no, no..."


End Not the one