When Jim came into the loft, Blair looked up from the paper he was grading and gave his roommate a sly grin. "I wasn't expecting you back for a while. What happen, strike out?"
Shrugging out of his tux jacket, Ellison hooked it on one finger and threw it over his shoulder, leaning against the door as he gave Sandburg a grin in return. "Look who's talking. What's Sam mad about this time?"
"The way I breathe, I think," Blair answered. Sitting back, he idly thought that Jim looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ or a "beefcake" calendar, then shook his head, dismissing the curl of feeling in his gut. "Well, at least it looks like you got to have *some* fun."
Jim went in the kitchen to get a beer, telegraphing to Blair the question 'want one, too' by lifting the bottle. "What makes you think I got anywhere?" he asked on the way back with both beers after Blair's nod of yes.
"Come on, hanging around you has to rub off a little, Jim. Top buttons undone, smudge of lipstick on your jaw under your ear, what looks like the beginning of a bite mark just under that collar. Definitely something hot and heavy got started."
Ellison stretched out, head on the back of the couch, feet on the table, eyes closed. "Yeah, started is the operative word. One minute we're in her limo on the way to the benefit, making out, then the cell phone goes off and she's apologizing all over the place and bringing me back here."
"Uh-oh,"
Looking over at his partner, Jim raised both brows. "Uh-oh?"
"Yeah, uh-oh. You were wearing your cop face just then."
"My cop face?"
"Yeah, the one that says, 'there's something funny here, but I don't have any evidence to prove it.'"
"I have a face that says that?"
"As opposed to the one that says, 'I know something is going on here and I think I know how to prove it.'"
"Sandburg, what does the face I'm wearing *now* say?"
"Umm, 'shut up, Sandburg, or I'm going to bounce you around the room a few times?'"
Jim laughed, took a drink of his beer and toed off his shoes. Putting his head back again, he sat quietly for a moment, then admitted. "Something is funny about this evening, and I don't know what it is."
"Can't believe a beautiful, successful, sexy woman would want to be seen at a high class benefit dinner with a cop on her arm?"
Slowly, he answered, "No... Candace didn't get to where she is with that kind of petty thinking. And her attitude isn't condescending or snooty. I wouldn't have given her a second look if she were like that."
"But..."
"But the scene in the limo felt rehearsed. Fake." Jim sat up and shrugged. "Probably just sour grapes." Picking up his shoes, he headed upstairs. "Night, Sandburg. See you in the morning."
Blair watched him go, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the beer bottle.
* * *
"Sandburg! You could have left *some* hot water! How the hell am I supposed to shave?!"
"Look Jim, I didn't get home late on purpose, and I *had* to shower before you got here because if I'm late again Sam will killlll me."
Jim hurried through the room, towel insecurely in place. "Tell her to get in line!"
Blair's answer was lost to the world in general, as he was addressing the underside of the couch when he made it.
"No, I saw you first, Sandburg. I get dibs. Did you move my watch?"
"Why would I touch your watch? Have you seen my dress shoes?"
"You *have* dress shoes?"
This time the reply was made to the underside of a chair.
The doorbell rang as Jim ran down the steps barefoot, still pulling on his shirt. "Sam picking you up?"
"No. It's probably the Keystone Kops," Blair answered as he came up for air, one shoe in hand.
Ellison threw a puzzled look over his shoulder, then threw an even more confused one at the door. "Candace?" He opened it buttoning his shirt, a welcoming smile on his face. "Hi, I thought we were meeting at seven."
Blair had seen pictures of Candace Welling, of course, but the almost six-foot tall, perfectly turned-out blonde, perfectly proportioned bombshell that oozed into the room made them look like third generation Xeroxes. He hated her on sight.
She laid a possessive hand on Ellison's cheek. "We were, but I finished early and thought I'd drop by and ride with you."
Jim smiled, but, to Blair's relief, he stepped back without acknowledging the touch. "Great. Give me five." He turned to go back up the stairs, shouting as we went, "And Sandburg, you had better put everything back *before* I get home."
Blair looked around the disheveled room in mock innocence. "Put what back, man?" Still carrying his one found shoe, he started back to his room, and suddenly detoured to their guest, offering her his hand. "Hi, I'm Jim's roommate, Blair Sandburg."
She took it and smiled at him warmly enough. "Hello, I'm Candace. Taking her someplace special?"
"Dinner theater. Assuming, of course," he muttered, looking around the room, "that I can find my shoe."
"Wear sneakers. Make a fashion statement."
"I don't think she'll stand for one right now, but it might be better than being late again." Blair gave her one of his best smiles. "It was nice meeting you, but I really need to keep looking."
"Nice meeting you, too." She said to his back as he headed for his room.
He shut the door behind him, leaned against it, and took a cleansing breath. What was it about her.... He shook his head and started searching for the missing shoe in his laundry, thinking it might have gotten picked up with it when he cleared out the bath.
Instead he found Jim's watch. He popped out just as the door was shutting behind the couple, and headed after them. As he opened the door, he heard Candace. "Really, Jim, if you would do a little consulting on the side, you wouldn't have to have a room mate."
"I'm a cop, Candace. That takes most of my time." Jim's voice changed slightly, becoming a little warmer. "And it wouldn't leave me any for you."
Slowly Blair shut the door, trying to push down the feelings of hurt and confusion. Why had Jim let her think that he was only there to help pay expenses? From the beginning, he had paid for his share of the food and the difference in utilities, but that was all. It was about all he could afford, and they had just fallen into the arrangement without talking about it. He knew damn good and well that if Jim weren't happy with it, he would say something. Loudly.
He leaned his head against the door. Jim hadn't introduced him, either. Thinking furiously, he realized the only time Jim did that was when he didn't like the person, didn't trust them, or thought of them as a suspect. Jim was dating this woman and he didn't trust her? In frustration he pounded the door, and the sound of the shoe in his hand hitting the wood reminded him of his date.
"Help, help, help," he muttered as he ran for his room. Sneakers, then.
* * *
"What, again?" Blair shut the door to his car and joined Jim by his truck.
Jim shrugged. "My idea, this time."
They walked toward the loft. "Not working out?"
"It's weird, Sandburg. I know she likes being with me, and she's really interested in my life." He juggled his keys for second, then shrugged again. "Maybe a bit too much. She keeps making 'suggestions' and pushing me to try them."
"Like this thing about you being a security consultant?"
"Yeah. I made a few comments in passing how she could improve security at the firm, and the next thing I know she's got me looking at properties all over Cascade." Jim unlocked the door, letting Blair go in ahead of him.
"All hers?"
Jim nodded. "I went along, figured it couldn't hurt to check things out with her. Now she's giving my name to people."
Blair went into the kitchen and put on the kettle, getting a second cup out without thinking. "And you fought about it. That's why you're home early?"
When Jim didn't answer right away, Blair looked up and caught Jim studying him, the tiniest hint of a soft smile on his face. Blair's stomach went from zero to sixty between heartbeats. Then Jim lowered his eyes and looked at the floor. When he looked back up, his face was just plain old Jim and Blair was left wondering if he imagined the other expression.
"Actually, I left because I couldn't stand her act anymore."
Fidgeting around the kitchen, not looking at Jim and hiding his reaction to what just happened, Blair asked, "Her act?"
"When I reach for her she comes off all warm and willing, but every time and I do mean *every* time, she finds a way to put me off or get us on to something else."
Aimlessly he opened the fridge and looked into it, closing it again without really seeing what was in it. "I really don't get it. Her scent tells me she wants...." Jim trailed off, and Blair looked directly at him.
To Blair's amazement, he realized Jim was blushing. Very carefully, he asked, "Her scent? You can tell if someone is aroused over you?" A split second later he answered himself, blushing in sympathy. "Of course you can." Sternly he gathered himself. "But she keeps putting you off? A tease?"
"No, not like that." Jim almost visibly shook himself, and turned to go upstairs. "More like she wants something from me first, before she's ready," he added softly, almost as speaking to himself.
"Hey, maybe she's being careful. Aids, herpes - you could always offer to get blood tests together."
"Not the most romantic come-on. Besides, I always use protection. Couldn't hurt to ask, though, I guess." Jim waved a general good night and went up the stairs.
Blair turned off the kettle and leaned back on the stove, running over the conversation in his head. There was *definitely* something about this woman that was bothering Jim (and him, but he WAS NOT going to think about that).
* * *
"So you guys are officially over."
Jim took another bite of breakfast and swallowed before answering. "Pretty much. We were at the mayor's for some big thing and she started going at me in that quiet, genteel way of hers about how I was disappointing her. Everyone was listening, and it hit me I was fed up with trying to fit whatever hidden agenda she has. So, I decided to best way to get out was by agreeing with her."
"You agreed with her!"
Nodding while chewing, he said, "If everyone hears me publicly say that 'you're right, I'm not good enough for you babe, I'm so sorry, I won't ever darken your door again' she can't come back at me. No accusations later on that I'm out to get her because of a bad affair. And she can't chase after me without looking foolish."
Blair looked up from his plate in concern. "You don't think she'll try to get you for dumping her?"
Jim gestured with a fork. "When Carolyn and I were over, well, things got a little vindictive. Candace and I may not be that involved, but she's a powerful lady used to getting her way." He took another bite. "Can't hurt to be careful," he mumbled around the food.
Blair winced.
Smiling gently, Jim continued, "Hitting a little close to home?"
Jumping up, Blair cleared his plate from the table and headed to the sink. "I can't believe Sam did that, man! I didn't dump her, she dumped me! Just because I decided not to crawl back this time she has to storm into Simon's office and, and, and...."
Calmly Jim took a sip of coffee, "Accuse me of breaking you guys up because we were screwing and I wanted you all for myself."
Grinning broadly, Blair turned back to the table. "I have to admit your come-back on that was classic"
"I just said if she was going to slander me, she should pick something believable - like drug dealing or running a stable of girls."
Blair shook his head slowly. "So she slaps you for that?"
Jim stared down at his plate, then picked it up and gave it to Blair. "No, that was because of what I said after everyone laughed and left the office."
"Which was?" Blair asked as the added the plate to the sink.
Standing, Jim moved close enough to whisper in Blair's ear. "I don't want to get smacked again." Then he began to pull on his jacket and walked to the door.
Intercepting him, Blair laid a hand flat on Jim's chest and repeated, "Which was? And I *do not* hit people over what they have to say about me."
Raising one hand to cover the one on his chest, Jim stared for a long minute at his Guide. "I told her that if I were making love with you, you'd be too satisfied and happy to crawl out of my bed and into someone else's."
Smiling broadly, he put a finger under Blair's chin and gently closed his mouth. "I have to admit I like your reaction better than hers." He picked up the keys, and started out the door, then paused, turning back, all humor gone.
"Blair, if Candace does get vindictive, she might start on you, just because we're room mates. You tell me *instantly* if anything unusual happens."
A huge shudder went through Blair, and he brought himself back to reality. "Come on, she hardly knows I'm alive." Because you've been shielding me all along, he realized, but decided this wasn't the time to point it out.
"Anything, Chief. I'm serious."
Blair made shooing motions, shaking his head. "Yes, Blessed Protector, right away Detective Ellison. Get out of here before you're late."
* * *
"You *cannot* be real about doing this," Blair practically yelled, standing toe-to-toe with his partner in the middle of the loft.
Wincing, Jim answered testily, "Back off. We had arranged to do the security sweep of her new property before Candace and I split. When she called me and asked me nicely to do it anyway, I couldn't say no gracefully."
"I don't trust her! She let you get away too easily."
"Come on, you're letting Sam make you paranoid."
"Candace makes Sam look like a guppy swimming with sharks! Why do you think I finally figured out what Sam was doing! By watching a master ball buster in action! Jim, you have to know she's up to something."
Jim turned away, brushing a hand over his head in frustration. "Yeah, possibly," he said finally, reluctantly. "But this is a public meet, with people around. One thing I am sure of about Candace is that she hates loud, messy scenes. It's probably an overture to trying to get more private later." He turned back to his partner. "Look, half the battle is knowing there could be a problem. I won't give her a chance."
Half raising a hand, as if to touch in reassurance, Jim stopped the gesture, but Blair reached out and caught the offered hand before it could be dropped back to Jim's side. He pulled it up to his chest and laid it there. Covering it with both of his hands, he consciously echoed the time Jim had done the same to him.
"Nobody takes Sam seriously; she's too obviously the pissed off ex-girl friend. But if Candace accuses you of something, people will listen."
Staring at where their hands were joined, Jim sighed, then said very gently, "If it's a lie, it won't matter because it won't be believed. Or I'll clear myself if I need to. If it's the truth, I can't and won't deny it. The people who matter won't care. The rest can go to hell." Heavenly blue met smoky mountain blues; Blair couldn't hold the intensity of the gaze and was the first to drop his eyes.
Jim slipped free, and left.
* * *
"Did you do as you were told?" Candace's voice was cold, polite.
"Yes, ma'am. We took the truck, put the bullet holes and blood in it and left it where it wouldn't be found too quickly.
"You've been a very good boy. I'll see to you later. Now, leave, please."
From his hiding place behind the stacked desks, Blair shuddered. Candace sounded as if she were talking to an animal: one she was only remotely fond of. Moving as quietly as he could, he peeked through a crack.
Jim was still unconscious from the tazer shot, for which Blair was very grateful. Candace's 'boys' had shackled him between two poles, arms outstretched at shoulder height. Shackles at the ankle kept him kneeling, but if he rested his weight on his knees, his arms would be pulled at the shoulder. If he lifted up to take the weight from the shoulders, his ankles and thighs would ache. Blair couldn't imagine a more hellish position.
Candace was obviously very experienced at getting just the effect she wanted. She walked around Jim, admiring her handiwork it seemed, heels clicking. Stopping a couple of times to run a lethal looking fingernail over a muscle, or one of the shackles, she hummed contentedly to herself. "I was so looking forward to slowly seducing you into your own submission, James. I do love long-term projects, and I had several years' worth of careful, easy steps planned to bring you to this point. And we would have enjoyed it so much.
"Now, I have to make do with fast food when I wanted a gourmet feast. I really am quite annoyed." For the first time, her voice lost a little of its culture. "I don't think you're going to enjoy it now, very much at all. In fact, I can practically guarantee it."
"Candace, you seriously overestimated how much I would have gone through to get a piece of ass. Even yours." Jim lifted his head, slowly, shaking it a bit as if to bring the world into focus. From his hiding place, Blair could see the quiet dignity in his face.
"Oh, I don't know, Detective." She sauntered around him, and purred, "It starts with you seeing just one client, just for me, and I reward you with the best sex you've ever had. You want a little more of that, so you do another client. Or maybe change the way you dress, to please me, you know. I do something really spectacular for you to let you know I appreciate it, and you're flattered. On and on, each step taking a little further down the road to doing anything I want. And at the end of the trip, you find yourself like this, loving it. You really should have taken the trip. It would have been worth it."
With a sudden snap, she hit him, open-handed, hard enough to make his mouth bleed. "You really should have taken the trip, James." She hit him again. And again.
Fists clenched, Blair scrunched himself down, unwilling to watch, and terrified of the venom in her voice and psychotic glare in her eyes. As the sound of flesh hitting flesh went on, he closed his eyes, willing her to get tired or to need to go to the bathroom or her hand to start hurting or anything. Anything. Just leave the room for a minute. Give him a chance to try the cell phone. Or find a way to get Jim free.
"Anything," he whispered, softly, prayerfully.
Catching her breath, Candace stepped back, visibly reining in her emotions. Turning her back on her captive, she walked a few steps away. After a few moments of obviously waiting for a reaction, she returned. "James, you disappoint me again. No threats. No reminder that you're a cop, and I can't get away with this."
"We're both smarter than that, Candace." The calm in Jim's voice was eerie.
"Well, the nice thing about you being a cop is that they are going to look at all your old cases, all the people you've upset doing your job. They have absolutely no reason to look my way. After all, I was last seen tearfully telling you it really was for the best that we not see each other again."
"Are you so sure of your people, Candace? No mistakes, no one seeing them take me, that I didn't leave a clue behind somehow."
"I train my boys very, very well - as you could have discovered for yourself if you had been just a little more cooperative.
"Now, let's see. So many lovely things and so little time. Maybe give you a taste of what you could have had?" Candace went into a small bag she had brought and took out a small, sharp knife. Carefully she began to cut away his clothes, chatting to him, almost conversationally, about various ways of entertaining herself with him.
Biting on a knuckle to keep from screaming, Blair berated himself for the thousandth time for just dashing after Jim without calling Simon or Taggert for backup. At the time it had made perfect sense - he couldn't admit he was following Jim like a jealous lover - and he had counted on being able to use his cell phone.
There just hadn't been any time. The ambush by the two men had been fast and vicious. One minute Jim was walking to the truck, the next, he was unconscious and being bundled back into the abandoned building through a back entrance. A look alike drove his truck away, even as Blair darted out of his hiding place to sneak into the same entrance. He considered again running for help, but couldn't bring himself to take the chance he might get caught, or that they might move Jim by another entrance.
Stomach rebelling, he fought his fear. Blair had no delusions that Candace had any intentions of letting Jim live. It was just a matter of how long. True sadists, not those who lived and thrived in the bdsm subculture, but those who were born without that essential something that allowed empathy and compassion, thrived on reaction. Jim wouldn't give one. Would that prolong or shorten the time they had to come up with a way out?
Carefully he risked another peek. Jim was naked now, except for a few lines of blood from casual nicks and cuts inflicted during his undressing. His face was blank, eyes staring straight ahead, and he never made a sound, even when Candace began to manipulate his penis roughly.
Whether it was the lack of sound or the lack of erection, Candace clearly lost her composure. Snarling, she ripped her belt off, walked behind Jim, and began to beat him with it.
Blair hunched back down, telling himself that if Jim could endure, so could he. Unconsciously he slammed his fist into his thigh, echoing the blows from the belt, hating his helplessness more than he hated Candace.
Eventually she tired, though she was clearly in a fury over Jim's lack of response. Breathing deeply, she studied him for a minute, then tried to smile sweetly. "Maybe you'll appreciate a taste of honey, now," she said, running her fingertips lightly over Jim's chest, stroking one nipple in passing.
Jim brought his eyes into focus on her face, and smiled, a bit oddly. "You know, Candace. You're right. They won't look for me with you. I'm sure your 'boys' did a good job of covering my disappearance. There's really no reason for me to put up with this any longer."
Candace recoiled, then pinched him, laughing lightly. "Going to break those big ole heavy chains and come after little ole' me?"
"I think I mentioned somewhere along the line that I was in covert operations when I was in the military. That or your check of me turned it up."
For the first time, she looked a bit uncertain. "So? Even that training couldn't get you out of this."
"Candace," Jim said very patiently, as if to a child. "The military doesn't just let you leave CovOp. They decide whether they can risk having you leave. Either you don't know anything important, or they make sure you won't tell anybody what you do know. As my Chief would say, it's the zone-out factor. Bye, Candace."
From behind them, Blair jerked his head up, and quickly got into position to see Jim. Of course! Of course, Jim knew he was there - heartbeat, smell, movements. But how was a zone going to help? He watched the familiar emptiness overtake Jim, and worried about how deep he would go into it to escape her.
She watched for minute, her own face almost as blank, then shrieked and began to pummel and scratch at her oblivious captive. Finally, breathless, she fell on the floor on her fanny, kicking at him once for good measure. Muttering under her breath, she kicked him again, then reached up and put her fingers on his pulse. "Sonovabitch. Sonovabitch!" She stood up, hands trembling, and visibly pulled herself together. After a bit she laughed, shortly. "It's a compliment, I suppose. Dying being the only way to win."
Roughly she grabbed the short hair to pull his head up from where it now hung, and looked into his face. She petted it gently. "It really is a pity. You would have enjoyed it so much." She dropped Jim's head, smoothed her hands over her skirt, then moved to pick up her bag.
Blair scooted to the edge of his hiding place, watching her leave, but at some unseen signal, one of her men came over to her. She leaned against him, like a cat demanding to be petted, then kissed him lightly. "He's dead. Dump the body anywhere outside the city, leave the van at the junk yard. Make sure tomorrow it's destroyed. Be back by seven and I'll have something... special... for you." She gathered the other man with a look and strolled away without looking back.
Mentally cursing, Blair ducked back down. He leaned back against the desks, scouring his memory. The only van he had seen near was a white one in garage bay, just inside the door where they had carried Jim in. Taking a quick look, seeing the remaining man was occupied with undoing the manacles, Blair decided to take a chance. He scrambled out the door, back the way he came earlier.
When the back van door opened, he was already tucked into a small ball at the farthest end, under a dirty drop cloth left there for obvious reasons. The goon dropped Jim into the vehicle, then pulled an edge of the cloth over him for concealment. When the door was shut, Blair waited, nerves still jangling.
As soon as the engine started, Blair cautiously worked his way to Jim's side. God, he was so cold. Feeling for a pulse, he almost panicked when he couldn't find one. Head against Jim's chest, Blair listened for what seemed forever, but was eventually rewarded by a slow thump. Frightened, clueless about how he was going to get Jim out of a zone this deep, he curled around him, and pulled out the cell.
* * *
"Damn it, Simon, if I had a clue where we were I'd tell you. All I know is that you're looking for a white '87 Ecoline Van, plate EB4-GT2, heading to a junk yard from outside Cascade."
Blair yanked the phone from his ear, and glared at it. "Yelling isn't helping," he shouted at the first break in noise. "Look, I called the first chance I could without being overheard, and by that time the van was leaving. No. No. How the hell could I watch for landmarks!"
There was more yelling, then he said, "Come on, man. You gotta be able to trace this or something. We can't be that far out if you..."
This time when the yelling started, Blair put the phone down and leaned over the man in his lap. Jim had curled into a fetal position, but his breathing and pulse were normal, now, as far as Blair could tell. He sighed in relief, picked the phone up. "No. I won't leave him to look for a road sign or something! We're in the middle of nowhere and he's unconscious. Simon. Simon!"
"Tell him we're not too far from the paper mill. I can smell it pretty clearly, so we're down wind." Jim's voice was wobbly, but clear.
Blair dropped the phone and impulsively hugged Jim. "Man, you were *so* far gone into that zone. How'd you know she'd think you were dead?"
"Her ego." Jim made an effort at sitting up, but gave it up, a grimace telling Blair his stomach was rolling.
Blair pushed him back down firmly, then picked up the phone again. "Look, Simon, you got a chopper up? The pilot has to know which way the wind is blowing. Send him downwind of the paper factory, and I'll tell you when Jim hears him. You relay, closer or farther, like 'Marco Polo', get it?" He listened for a second, rolling his eyes at what Simon was saying. Waving a hand expressively in the air, he answered. "If you've got a better idea... And Simon, make sure there's some blankets and hot coffee. We're freezing here."
Jim chuckled, carefully. "We're freezing, Chief? I'm the one whose buck naked."
"I'd offer you my shirt, but it'd be like trying to cover an elephant with a handkerchief."
* * *
"I still can't believe you're not going to press charges." Blair smoothed more of the salve into one of the many welts on Jim's back. To be able to reach better, he sat across the bigger man's back as Jim lay on his stomach in bed.
Sighing, and trying not to squirm, Jim dug his forehead into his crossed forearms, obviously looking for a position that didn't hurt. "Not enough evidence, and you being the only witness... not much choice. Besides, I'd rather not have something this, this...."
"Personal"
Jim threw a glare over his shoulder, as if expecting to find a smirk or grin and not the expression of concentration Blair knew he wore. "Personal come out in a public hearing." Jim sighed again, this time from relief. "Much as I hate to admit it, I think that stuff is helping. If it just didn't smell so bad!"
"What smell?"
"Trust me, there's a smell."
Blair continued working his way down Jim's back, finding himself angrier and angrier as he did. Cruelty for the sake of pleasure had always been beyond him. But doing this to someone like Jim was like burning down the rainforest or killing a coral reef - it was greed-caused damage to one of nature's great works.
Absently he smoothed a finger over unmarked skin. To his mind, this beauty was meant to be cherished and loved, not branded as owned. Damn Candace for even thinking she could. "Damn her to hell and back," he swore softly.
"Actually, I think she might be there already. She has to be expecting revenge. My guess is she'll spend a lot of time and money trying to protect herself, not even realizing I don't give enough of a damn to even try." He laughed shortly. "She can't imagine not being important enough to be worth the trouble."
Blair pressed his lips together. What Jim didn't know, he couldn't stop Blair from doing.
He scooted down until he was sitting astride Jim's thighs, pulling the sheet down with him as he did. Mouth suddenly dry, he found himself staring at Jim's bottom as if seeing for the first time. There wasn't very much damage there, but the paleness of the vulnerable flesh only served to emphasize the marks. The anger inside flooded up, and having no other outlet, became tenderness.
Without ever consciously considering it, Blair bent and pressed a tiny, soft kiss on the welt curving over Jim's hip. Then the one closest to that was treated with the same medicine. Before he could go on, Jim twisted under him, knocking him to one side, and Blair flinched, eyes closed.
When nothing happened, he timidly cracked open one eye to see Jim sitting up beside him. "Temporary insanity?" he ventured.
"Trying to cop a plea for assaulting an officer, Sandburg?" The tone of Jim's voice was decidedly light. The intent, hungry look in his eyes was not.
Swallowing hard, Blair decided to just get it over with. "More like trying to cop a feel."
Moving slowly, Jim brought his hands up to cup Blair's face. "Why don't you just feel the cop? God knows you make the cop feel things he'd forgotten he could."
He placed his thumbs in center of Blair's lips and ran them outward, over the contours, gently. Blair shivered in reaction, then darted a tongue out to taste one digit. He watched in delight as Jim's eyes got darker from that timid gesture, then, wanting to meet him half way, lifted his mouth to Jim's.
"Just like that, Chief?" Jim asked a long, sweet time later.
"Just like that has taken us two years, three kidnappings, four - no five bombs, sixteen busts, mmmph...."
"I can't believe I finally found a way to shut you up."
finis