Shadows and Siege 5
Two years ago, a secret covert ops organization called Section One showed up in Jim's loft to recruit Jim and Blair (~read Shadows of the Past~). Now, two years later, Section's new head, Nikita, tells Jim that he's supposed to work with a traitor from Stargate Command named Makepeace to get rid of a group of invading aliens called goa'uld.
Shadows and Siege Part 5
Sequel to Shadows of the Past
Fandoms: Primary: Sentinel. Secondary: La Femme Nikita, Stargate SG-1
Slash
Rated: ADULT?
Shadows and Siege part one
Shadows and Siege part two
Shadows and Siege part three
Shadows and Siege part four
"Oh man, just keep everything dialed down," Blair barely breathed as they walked the neat square with the planters at regular intervals. For a city that had been in a war zone not so long ago, Maribor was clean and neat and very European, which shouldn't be surprising since they were in Europe.
"I'm fine Sandburg," Jim complained. Tobias and Jurgen stood at a little red building making moon eyes at each other and buying touristy t-shirts while Makepeace sat with a frown and book on the bench that went around the monument dominating the center of the square. He could easily pass for a local, and with the unhappy expression, a local that no one was going to approach unless they had a death wish. Blair sighed. He could play nice all he wanted, Makepeace was still going to hate him.
"If by fine, you mean you're all tense and your instincts are making you into a grouchy asshole, I'm right there with you, man," Blair agreed. Jim turned and graced Blair with a glare, but Blair just stared right back at him. "Speaking the truth here, and you so know it."
"There's something here."
"Yep, which is why we're here," Blair pointed out. "But if your Sentinel instincts go all wonky, we really need to rethink the plan."
"I'm not wonky." Jim growled that bit.
"Riiight. Maybe we should go back to the hotel and…" Blair waved a hand vaguely. Jim's glare grew more intense. "It might help," Blair added defensively.
"I'm not having sex with you to make… things go smoother."
"So, we can have sex and you say that you want to have sex, but we can't have sex until we prove some point by putting your instincts in the line of fire and watching you go wonky?" Blair's words were little more than a whisper that he muttered close to Jim's arm as he pretended to take a picture of the houses all connected in a row, their ornate windows all perfectly aligned and freshly washed. Cascade never looked this clean, but maybe that was because of all the rain.
Jim didn't answer, but the withering expression Jim focused on him was enough to make a lesser man run for cover. Not even Makepeace looked at Blair with quite that much venom. "I am not wonky." Each word was said slowly and carefully as though Jim was afraid of what might slip out if he didn't control his mouth.
"Uh huh. God, some days I wonder if your testosterone levels aren't in the poisonous range," Blair snorted before he started heading toward the end of the square that led to the university buildings. So far, they only had Jim's instincts and a vague report that the aliens might be accessing computer networks through the University of Maribor.
Immediately, Jim reached out and grabbed Blair's shoulder, yanking him back so fast that Blair gave a yelp that made several people turn and look. "Nearly dropped it. Cost $400," Blair babbled as he held up the camera for people to see. Jim's frown deepened. Oh yeah, whether Jim admitted it or not, these goa'uld were doing a number on his senses. Blair couldn't remember the last time Jim was this irrational. "Chill," Blair snapped, and Jim dropped his hand away from Blair's shoulder even if his fingers kept twitching.
Blair didn't even glance over as Tobias and Jurgen moved into position, holding hands and casually wandering in the same general direction as Jim and Blair. Looking up, Blair waited for Jim to make a decision about whether to continue or to head back to the hotel where Bruhn and Knudsen were waiting. With a heavy hand, Jim scrubbed his face for a second, looking exhausted as he cracked his neck.
"Come on, Chief, let's go check out this great conference you're so hot on attending," Jim finally sighed as they headed toward the university. The conference wasn't exactly Blair's normal cup of tea since it focused on work process management, but he had a whole story prepped if anyone asked. His own work in victimization focused on the inability of victims to interact with the mainstream, and teaching victims to work with business or teaching business to create a culture that would take advantage of the potential employee pool available in the victims of abuse and crime… it was a study that Blair was increasingly determined to actually follow up on as soon as Section was through with them.
Blair let Jim take his arm, fully aware of the fact that anyone who saw them would assume they were a couple. And if Blair could just get them a little privacy from the rest of the team, they might actually be a couple, which was more than a little weird. Four years of frustration, and Blair had learned to live with it. He'd taken the objective data-Jim's affair with his commanding officer in the Rangers, his attraction to Carolyn and Lily and a half dozen other women-he'd taken that and determined that Jim was sexually attracted to the strong, aggressive, and occasionally murderous type. Actually, of all Jim's lovers, Caro was the only one who Blair was reasonably sure hadn't ever killed anyone. And even then, he couldn't be sure because that woman had a temper that could strip the paint off a barn.
And now Jim claimed to be attracted to Blair, but refused to do anything until this mission was over. Blair wasn't sure if he was frustrated or afraid. What he wanted was so close. Jim was holding out a relationship like a carrot on a string, and Blair was fairly sure he'd do anything to get that carrot. But the nagging thought that Jim was once again acting out of his own fear-based responses haunted Blair. What if Jim was only choosing to have sex with him to avoid having to work with other guides if he was called to service again? What if Jim wanted control over the senses and didn't actually want Blair?
Blair glanced over at Jim's deep frown and shoved his own thoughts aside as he focused on his Sentinel. "Oh man, not here," he whispered just as Jim's face started to get that slack expression. Shit. Jim hadn't zoned in forever. The road had narrowed, and the small cars Europeans favored clacked over the speed bump right in front of the bench where Jim unexpectedly sat.
"Something's close," Jim whispered as he put his head down in his hands. Blair rubbed his back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. When Jim reached out and grabbed his knee, holding it desperately, Blair couldn't avoid feeling a flare of need. Even if Jim just needed to have sex in order to control his own life, Blair knew he was way in over his head emotionally. He wanted Jim.
"Just stick close," Jim said as he stood and took a deep breath. When Blair stood next to him, Jim slung and arm around his shoulder and pulled Blair to his side. A passing couple frowned at them, and Blair offered up his most dazzling smile as he slipped his own arm around Jim's waist. Then Jim was moving again, staying near the brick buildings that radiated the heat from the sun back into the street. Jim stopped and studied a store window with brightly colored advertising, but Blair could read the tilt of his head.
Blair pressed three fingers against his thigh in a modified covert signal, and immediately shifted to take a picture of Jim in front of the metal grillwork of a decorative fence. Jim smiled, playing his part, but Blair could see the lines at the corners of his eyes deepen and Jim clung to the metal scrolling on the gate as though he would fall without the support. Jim flicked his ring finger, making the gesture for 'seven' so quickly that Blair almost missed it, but he smiled and turned as though trying to get out of the light and review the picture he had just taken. At seven o'clock two men walked, eyes straight forward as though seeing nothing except what was right in front of them.
"Oh man. Fuck. I forgot my credentials back at the hotel. They won't let me in the conference without that badge," Blair complained.
"Damn it, Chief. Do I have to pin your shit to your shirt for you to keep track of it?" Jim demanded in a voice just a little louder than it absolutely needed to be.
"Fuck you," Blair offered with an appropriate hand gesture before he turned and headed back toward Hotel Orel.
"Temper, temper," Jim said, his voice teasing even if Blair could hear the strain in it. Jim's hand landed on his shoulder, and Blair stopped for a half-step so that he would again be pressed to Jim's side. The two men Jim had identified walked on without sparing a glance in either direction.
Blair's first observation was that they either weren't very observant or they were damn arrogant because they didn't try to watch their environment at all. Even if Blair hadn't bothered to check on Jurgen's location, he could bet that the profiler was coming to the same conclusion. One man was tall, light brown hair and a handsome face made him stand out from the crowd. The other man was not as tall, but his black hair and well developed body certainly caught the look of more than one girl as they walked toward the town square.
Jim and Blair followed them to Svetozarevska, but when Jim and Blair turned north toward Castle Square and their hotel, the two aliens continued on the main road, walking resolutely side by side until they were out of sight. Silently, Jim walked them back to their hotel. He bypassed the room they had rented with its cute little balcony and cheerful red flowers and instead went through a barrier of plastic sheeting into a sector that local officials had determined unsafe due to a spill of pesticides being used to fumigate the hotel. For the next three weeks, not even hotel officials were allowed past the official government warning signs.
"Confirmed contact?" Knudsen asked as he sat at a laptop hooked to any number of devices Blair didn't recognize. Jim nodded and nearly collapsed into a chair. They sat in a silence broken only by Knudsen typing on his computer for nearly fifteen minutes before Tobias and Jurgen joined them.
"Robert's in position," Jurgen immediately offered. Makepeace would stay in position outside while the rest of them debriefed. "Were they goa'uld?"
Tobias didn't say anything, but she moved to the bed and Knudsen immediately surrendered his spot as she started checking the computer's security.
"They were either goa'uld or something else that I instinctively wanted to hunt down and rip apart with my bare hands," Jim nodded slowly. They aren't… they aren't natural. It's like I could hear their bodies not in tune with themselves." Jim spoke slowly struggling with the words, and Blair pulled the closest chair over to his side and sat, his hands on Jim's knee.
"What did you hear?"
Jim was shaking his head. "I don't know."
"Come on; let's work through one sense at a time."
"Not now, Sandburg," Jim snapped out and Blair sat back in surprise. "You and Jurgen have to report. This is about your observations right now, so do your job." Jim stood up and moved to the window. It had been heavily covered with black plastic, but Blair suspected that Jim could still see out. Jurgen curiously watched first Jim and then Blair, and Blair felt himself blush under the observation.
"What are your observations and conclusions?" Jim asked as he stared at the covered window. Blair glanced toward Jurgen who tilted his head in a way that invited Blair to go first.
"Both have hosts that attract attention by being physically attractive. I would suspect--given the other two goa'ulds I've seen--that it may be a cultural trait; however, they're basing attractiveness on a human standard, which is weird considering that in their natural state they're snakes."
"A desire to be seen as attractive, perhaps biologically determined," Jurgen nodded.
"But a need to be attractive to the potential hosts? Man, that doesn't make sense. Attraction is about reproduction and survival. If you can just take a host, why do you need to be in a host that another potential host sees as attractive?"
"Power?" Jurgen mused.
"Maybe," Blair agreed, most of his attention still on Jim. "Definitely not something I'd make a conclusion about at this point."
"Agreed." Jurgen sat on the edge of the bed, his hip pressed to Tobias' leg, and she spared him a smile before going back to typing. Blair had always seen military units and sexuality as mutually exclusive, but if he and Jim weren't doing it, Blair was pretty sure they were the only ones who weren't.
Tobias and Jurgen were sending out major signals, and while Miko Bruhn and Hannu Knudsen were more subtle, Blair was a good sixty percent sure they were sleeping together. It would explain why Bruhn had given up his career and his life to try and protect Knudsen against the bogus rape charges. Of course Makepeace wasn't sharing time with anyone except his own hand, but then again, that might just be the man's personality. So far, Blair had the impression that he was a man who didn't let his guard down long enough to let anyone inside. Even Tobias, who had been in the same organization before coming to Section, got little more than disinterested looks from him. That was still better than the hate Blair got, but it wasn't exactly a warm and friendly team-feeling he had for anyone.
Blair must have been silent for too long because Jim turned around to glare, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked from Jurgen to Blair.
"They're hierarchical," Blair said.
"We knew that already," Tobias pointed out even as she typed Blair's comments into the computer for Section.
"No, we knew they had System Lords who acted as dictators over large groups of goa'uld, jaffa, and humans," Jurgen said as he nodded in agreement with Blair.
"But these are two minor goa'uld, and they're hierarchical with each other, refusing to allow one another to get even one step ahead. And the fact that they are so carefully trying to maintain an equal standing when equality is clearly not their norm…" Blair grimaced as he tried to figure that one out.
"Someone or something is forcing them into unnatural patterns of behavior," Jurgen nodded. "Clare got a number of clear shots from the hidden camera, so we should have an identity on the hosts and information on their locations soon enough, and then we should be able to make more observations."
"Anything else?" Jim asked when the room went silent for several minutes.
"Oh man, off watching two people walk down a street? I'm impressed that we came up with that much." Blair crossed his own arms in imitation of Jim and dared the man to press the issue. If Jim wanted to act like an asshole, Blair could out-asshole him any day of the week.
"We should head back to the university." Jim nodded to himself without bothering to ask for anyone's input. "Knudsen, you take rear. The rest of you are off until Dr. Sandburg goes to a few sessions and establishes our cover."
"I'll go get my papers," Blair said as he got up.
"You mean you really did leave them behind?" Jim demanded. Blair offered his Sentinel a sweet smile that did little to hide his frustration before heading out of the room. Outside, he nearly walked into Makepeace.
"Always watch that your retreat is clear or you're going to get someone killed, Sandburg," Makepeace growled.
"I was trusting you to do the watching thing, actually," Blair offered as he gave the man a smile and slid past him as he headed for the room he and Jim were sharing. Yeah, Makepeace had been given the signal that he could come in the second Jim had issued the order, but Blair just had the creepy feeling that the man had stood in the hall and waited for a chance to harass Blair. He was a grade-A asshole. Blair so would have nagged Jim about sending him back except that Nikita wanted him on the mission and Jim said he trusted Makepeace's instincts in battle if not his attitude. Personally, Blair didn't trust him far enough to let the man borrow his favorite pencil.
Jim caught up to him in their room. "You get your papers, Chief?" he asked, all the surliness of just minutes ago gone as he stood leaning against the door with a relaxed smile.
Blair shoved his conference registration in his pocket and turned on Jim. "Yeah," he said, his voice dark. Jim frowned at him for a second.
"Chief, you okay?"
"Other than trying to figure out who pissed on your cornflakes this morning, I'm great," Blair said as he shoved past Jim and headed for the stairs.
"Chief!" Jim called out, but Blair was out the door and hurrying across the cobbled brick of Castle Square. "Sandburg!" Jim caught Blair's arm just as he reached the yellow-tented booths selling local food. "Blair, hold on." Jim yanked Blair to a halt, and Blair glared at him. "Talk to me, Chief."
"Why? You're so busy snapping at me that I didn't think we were talking anymore."
Jim stepped back looking confused, and Blair immediately felt the guilt seep in through the cracks like floodwater into his soul. It made him feel dirty. "Jim," he said softly.
"No, I know. I'm trying," Jim said as he started walking toward the university. Blair closed his eyes and fought with his own overgrown emotions before he hurried to fall into step next to Jim.
"I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated," Blair apologized.
"Frustrated as in…"
"Frustrated as in you don't seem to be talking to me like an equal partner anymore," Blair quickly clarified. Yeah, he was frustrated in other ways too, but Jim needed time to work through those thoughts, and Blair wasn't pushing, not when he wasn't sure whether Jim wanted him or a method of controlling his senses and his addiction to hormones. And it was really fucking with Blair's self-image to realize that if he was nothing more than a way for Jim to gain that control, he would still go ahead with the relationship.
"This is just a difficult spot for me to be in. They need to see me as a commander," Jim said, his voice a whisper that didn't carry past them, but Blair understood that Jim was still breaking protocol every time he talked about the mission in the open like this. Blair reached out and let his hand rest on Jim's back, and Jim's arm immediately reciprocated.
"I just need to know that you respect my opinions."
"Everyone respects your opinions, Dr. Sandburg. If you told the commissioner that they needed to paint the whole precinct pink to better communicate with victims of crime, he'd have the painters there in a week."
"Oh man, now that would be an interesting experiment in control," Blair said as he thought about Simon's face as the painters came in with their pink paint.
"Don't think about it, Darwin. I will rat you out to Simon and the commissioner."
"Jim, I don't actually care what they think about me." Blair cringed a little as he recognized his own lie. "Okay, I care. I especially care about Simon's opinion. However, their opinions don't matter like yours do, so when you shut me down without even listening like back in the room, I just start worrying about our relationship."
"Our relationship," Jim echoed.
"Our relationship, our friendship, four years of partnering, our relationship," Blair said, pointedly leaving out the parts of the relationship they weren't as sure about yet. They walked under the blue sky, and Blair let himself focus on some pink and orange graffiti sprayed on a tan brick building as Jim's arm guided him around a corner. On the smaller streets, pedestrians and cars shared the road, and Jim switched sides to keep himself between Blair and the slowly moving traffic. The flowerbeds on the university grounds came into view before Jim took a deep breath.
"So, what are you going to do while I sit in and listen to a lecture on organization effectiveness with entry-level employees and establishing corporate culture?" Blair asked casually.
Jim had already discussed with the conference organizers that Blair had received some death threats and Jim needed to stay fairly close, but right now Blair needed distance. He needed distance to try and tease out which of these negative vibes were coming from Jim the man, which were coming from the Sentinel, and which were coming from Blair's own insecurities about this change in their relationship which hadn't actually changed yet. They were sharing a bed, and Blair might as well be sharing a bunk with one of the monks from St. Sebastian's. So, he officially invited Jim to do something else while he was doing the academic thing.
"Blair."
"Consider it a test. You get to track me in the middle of two hundred people all as boring as I am. Besides, there are only a few sessions in English, so I won't be in there for all that long, but I really do want to talk to Dr. Gorshe and hear his lecture. And trust me, you would be bored stupid."
"And I won't be stuck sitting out here?" Jim demanded.
Blair smiled and looked around at the university square. "Sunlight, flowers, a fountain, and all the pretty college girls you can look at. You'll be fine," Blair said as he patted Jim on the arm and headed for the building.
"Chief, be careful," Jim offered his final words of advice as he settled on one of the benches surrounding the sunken fountain.
"No problem," Blair offered brightly as he walked backwards for a few steps so he could wave to his worrywart Sentinel. For a couple of hours, he was going to let his academic curiosity take over while he let his subconscious worry about the increasing tensions between him and Jim. He might have said they were unresolved sexual conflicts, but Blair was perfectly willing to solve any sexual conflicts, and Jim claimed he was too, even if he wanted to wait.
Blair forced his mind away from that topic as he showed the girl in the conference area his paperwork and claimed his badge. His had a little American flag in the corner, and Blair could see that a number of other conference-goers had the same little symbol. It shouldn't have surprised him given that the University of Maribor partnered internationally with a number of universities.
The lecture he wanted was in the main hall, and he wandered in, nodding vaguely at people whose names didn't even sound vaguely familiar. At most conferences, he recognized someone whose published work he'd read or people recognized his name. Here he just wandered the room, picking up a stale donut from the back as he tried to figure out where to sit. The chairs on the edges of the sections had already been claimed with notebooks and briefcases claiming the territory as the various academics wandered the room. Blair spotted a potential friendly face perched on a chair on the far right aisle, and headed that way. He smiled as he slipped past the man whose glasses were sliding down his nose in order to get to one of the free chairs.
"Hey," Blair said as he dropped into a seat near the other man. At least this one didn't look ancient or grumpy, and most of the room was filled with ancient and/or grumpy. Up close, he could see the small lines that suggested that the man wasn't as young as he looked at first, but at least he was close enough in age to Blair for them to talk… hopefully.
"Hi," the other man offered as he shuffled his papers and frowned. A paper slithered to the floor and Blair bent over to retrieve it before offering it to his neighbor. "Thanks."
"No problem. Oh man, I'm terrible with paper which is why I'm trying to switch over to the electronic age. Less shit to drop," Blair confided as he pulled out a handheld recorder.
"I always found those things recorded more of the audience coughing than the speaker." The other man shoved his glasses back up and sat back in his chair. "They're great in the field though."
"I do pretty good with this model," Blair shrugged. "Blair Sandburg from Washington State."
"Daniel Jackson from Colorado," the other man offered.
"No offense, man, but you look a little out of place," Blair looked around the room. Daniel laughed.
"I hate to point it out, but so do you."
"Yeah, I kinda do. I work with victims of crime, specializing in the cultural aspects that reinforce victimization. I'm looking at how corporate culture can overcome those traits."
"Anthropology?" Daniel asked, both eyebrows going up.
"Yeah. Since I was sixteen and someone introduced me to Sir Richard Burton's work. Although when I was sixteen, I was way more interested in his translation of the Kama Sutra than his anthropological observations, you know?"
"On the Means of Attracting Others to One's Self," Daniel quoted.
"Oh man, yeah. At sixteen that pretty much defined my life's goal. So, what's your specialty?"
"Archeology."
"Whoa, you really are way out of your field," Blair said with a strange look at the man. Daniel shook his head.
"I specialize in Egypt. I'm looking at the trade and business models of Egyptian society, and I thought this would be a good way to pick up some of the academic background on modern business models so I could apply them."
"Man, no offense, but wasn't the Egyptian business model pretty much slavery?"
Daniel blinked. "Seasonal conscripts, maybe. But have you considered the impracticality of having an entire culture based on slavery? Even the American south was unable to sustain itself without constant shipments of new slaves. My thesis is that the later kingdoms had much more in common with current business practices."
Blair let himself focus on the conversation until the lecture started. Daniel took notes while Blair kept his recorder aimed to the front and all seemed to go well until Blair glanced over at the clock to check the time. Against the wall under the clock leaned a man with graying hair and dark eyes. Shit, shit, and double shit. That was Colonel Jack O'Neill, and just why was it that Blair was always the one who seemed to end up in the middle of all the falling shit?
Shadows and Siege Part 5
Sequel to Shadows of the Past
Fandoms: Primary: Sentinel. Secondary: La Femme Nikita, Stargate SG-1
Slash
Rated: ADULT?
Shadows and Siege part one
Shadows and Siege part two
Shadows and Siege part three
Shadows and Siege part four
"Oh man, just keep everything dialed down," Blair barely breathed as they walked the neat square with the planters at regular intervals. For a city that had been in a war zone not so long ago, Maribor was clean and neat and very European, which shouldn't be surprising since they were in Europe.
"I'm fine Sandburg," Jim complained. Tobias and Jurgen stood at a little red building making moon eyes at each other and buying touristy t-shirts while Makepeace sat with a frown and book on the bench that went around the monument dominating the center of the square. He could easily pass for a local, and with the unhappy expression, a local that no one was going to approach unless they had a death wish. Blair sighed. He could play nice all he wanted, Makepeace was still going to hate him.
"If by fine, you mean you're all tense and your instincts are making you into a grouchy asshole, I'm right there with you, man," Blair agreed. Jim turned and graced Blair with a glare, but Blair just stared right back at him. "Speaking the truth here, and you so know it."
"There's something here."
"Yep, which is why we're here," Blair pointed out. "But if your Sentinel instincts go all wonky, we really need to rethink the plan."
"I'm not wonky." Jim growled that bit.
"Riiight. Maybe we should go back to the hotel and…" Blair waved a hand vaguely. Jim's glare grew more intense. "It might help," Blair added defensively.
"I'm not having sex with you to make… things go smoother."
"So, we can have sex and you say that you want to have sex, but we can't have sex until we prove some point by putting your instincts in the line of fire and watching you go wonky?" Blair's words were little more than a whisper that he muttered close to Jim's arm as he pretended to take a picture of the houses all connected in a row, their ornate windows all perfectly aligned and freshly washed. Cascade never looked this clean, but maybe that was because of all the rain.
Jim didn't answer, but the withering expression Jim focused on him was enough to make a lesser man run for cover. Not even Makepeace looked at Blair with quite that much venom. "I am not wonky." Each word was said slowly and carefully as though Jim was afraid of what might slip out if he didn't control his mouth.
"Uh huh. God, some days I wonder if your testosterone levels aren't in the poisonous range," Blair snorted before he started heading toward the end of the square that led to the university buildings. So far, they only had Jim's instincts and a vague report that the aliens might be accessing computer networks through the University of Maribor.
Immediately, Jim reached out and grabbed Blair's shoulder, yanking him back so fast that Blair gave a yelp that made several people turn and look. "Nearly dropped it. Cost $400," Blair babbled as he held up the camera for people to see. Jim's frown deepened. Oh yeah, whether Jim admitted it or not, these goa'uld were doing a number on his senses. Blair couldn't remember the last time Jim was this irrational. "Chill," Blair snapped, and Jim dropped his hand away from Blair's shoulder even if his fingers kept twitching.
Blair didn't even glance over as Tobias and Jurgen moved into position, holding hands and casually wandering in the same general direction as Jim and Blair. Looking up, Blair waited for Jim to make a decision about whether to continue or to head back to the hotel where Bruhn and Knudsen were waiting. With a heavy hand, Jim scrubbed his face for a second, looking exhausted as he cracked his neck.
"Come on, Chief, let's go check out this great conference you're so hot on attending," Jim finally sighed as they headed toward the university. The conference wasn't exactly Blair's normal cup of tea since it focused on work process management, but he had a whole story prepped if anyone asked. His own work in victimization focused on the inability of victims to interact with the mainstream, and teaching victims to work with business or teaching business to create a culture that would take advantage of the potential employee pool available in the victims of abuse and crime… it was a study that Blair was increasingly determined to actually follow up on as soon as Section was through with them.
Blair let Jim take his arm, fully aware of the fact that anyone who saw them would assume they were a couple. And if Blair could just get them a little privacy from the rest of the team, they might actually be a couple, which was more than a little weird. Four years of frustration, and Blair had learned to live with it. He'd taken the objective data-Jim's affair with his commanding officer in the Rangers, his attraction to Carolyn and Lily and a half dozen other women-he'd taken that and determined that Jim was sexually attracted to the strong, aggressive, and occasionally murderous type. Actually, of all Jim's lovers, Caro was the only one who Blair was reasonably sure hadn't ever killed anyone. And even then, he couldn't be sure because that woman had a temper that could strip the paint off a barn.
And now Jim claimed to be attracted to Blair, but refused to do anything until this mission was over. Blair wasn't sure if he was frustrated or afraid. What he wanted was so close. Jim was holding out a relationship like a carrot on a string, and Blair was fairly sure he'd do anything to get that carrot. But the nagging thought that Jim was once again acting out of his own fear-based responses haunted Blair. What if Jim was only choosing to have sex with him to avoid having to work with other guides if he was called to service again? What if Jim wanted control over the senses and didn't actually want Blair?
Blair glanced over at Jim's deep frown and shoved his own thoughts aside as he focused on his Sentinel. "Oh man, not here," he whispered just as Jim's face started to get that slack expression. Shit. Jim hadn't zoned in forever. The road had narrowed, and the small cars Europeans favored clacked over the speed bump right in front of the bench where Jim unexpectedly sat.
"Something's close," Jim whispered as he put his head down in his hands. Blair rubbed his back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. When Jim reached out and grabbed his knee, holding it desperately, Blair couldn't avoid feeling a flare of need. Even if Jim just needed to have sex in order to control his own life, Blair knew he was way in over his head emotionally. He wanted Jim.
"Just stick close," Jim said as he stood and took a deep breath. When Blair stood next to him, Jim slung and arm around his shoulder and pulled Blair to his side. A passing couple frowned at them, and Blair offered up his most dazzling smile as he slipped his own arm around Jim's waist. Then Jim was moving again, staying near the brick buildings that radiated the heat from the sun back into the street. Jim stopped and studied a store window with brightly colored advertising, but Blair could read the tilt of his head.
Blair pressed three fingers against his thigh in a modified covert signal, and immediately shifted to take a picture of Jim in front of the metal grillwork of a decorative fence. Jim smiled, playing his part, but Blair could see the lines at the corners of his eyes deepen and Jim clung to the metal scrolling on the gate as though he would fall without the support. Jim flicked his ring finger, making the gesture for 'seven' so quickly that Blair almost missed it, but he smiled and turned as though trying to get out of the light and review the picture he had just taken. At seven o'clock two men walked, eyes straight forward as though seeing nothing except what was right in front of them.
"Oh man. Fuck. I forgot my credentials back at the hotel. They won't let me in the conference without that badge," Blair complained.
"Damn it, Chief. Do I have to pin your shit to your shirt for you to keep track of it?" Jim demanded in a voice just a little louder than it absolutely needed to be.
"Fuck you," Blair offered with an appropriate hand gesture before he turned and headed back toward Hotel Orel.
"Temper, temper," Jim said, his voice teasing even if Blair could hear the strain in it. Jim's hand landed on his shoulder, and Blair stopped for a half-step so that he would again be pressed to Jim's side. The two men Jim had identified walked on without sparing a glance in either direction.
Blair's first observation was that they either weren't very observant or they were damn arrogant because they didn't try to watch their environment at all. Even if Blair hadn't bothered to check on Jurgen's location, he could bet that the profiler was coming to the same conclusion. One man was tall, light brown hair and a handsome face made him stand out from the crowd. The other man was not as tall, but his black hair and well developed body certainly caught the look of more than one girl as they walked toward the town square.
Jim and Blair followed them to Svetozarevska, but when Jim and Blair turned north toward Castle Square and their hotel, the two aliens continued on the main road, walking resolutely side by side until they were out of sight. Silently, Jim walked them back to their hotel. He bypassed the room they had rented with its cute little balcony and cheerful red flowers and instead went through a barrier of plastic sheeting into a sector that local officials had determined unsafe due to a spill of pesticides being used to fumigate the hotel. For the next three weeks, not even hotel officials were allowed past the official government warning signs.
"Confirmed contact?" Knudsen asked as he sat at a laptop hooked to any number of devices Blair didn't recognize. Jim nodded and nearly collapsed into a chair. They sat in a silence broken only by Knudsen typing on his computer for nearly fifteen minutes before Tobias and Jurgen joined them.
"Robert's in position," Jurgen immediately offered. Makepeace would stay in position outside while the rest of them debriefed. "Were they goa'uld?"
Tobias didn't say anything, but she moved to the bed and Knudsen immediately surrendered his spot as she started checking the computer's security.
"They were either goa'uld or something else that I instinctively wanted to hunt down and rip apart with my bare hands," Jim nodded slowly. They aren't… they aren't natural. It's like I could hear their bodies not in tune with themselves." Jim spoke slowly struggling with the words, and Blair pulled the closest chair over to his side and sat, his hands on Jim's knee.
"What did you hear?"
Jim was shaking his head. "I don't know."
"Come on; let's work through one sense at a time."
"Not now, Sandburg," Jim snapped out and Blair sat back in surprise. "You and Jurgen have to report. This is about your observations right now, so do your job." Jim stood up and moved to the window. It had been heavily covered with black plastic, but Blair suspected that Jim could still see out. Jurgen curiously watched first Jim and then Blair, and Blair felt himself blush under the observation.
"What are your observations and conclusions?" Jim asked as he stared at the covered window. Blair glanced toward Jurgen who tilted his head in a way that invited Blair to go first.
"Both have hosts that attract attention by being physically attractive. I would suspect--given the other two goa'ulds I've seen--that it may be a cultural trait; however, they're basing attractiveness on a human standard, which is weird considering that in their natural state they're snakes."
"A desire to be seen as attractive, perhaps biologically determined," Jurgen nodded.
"But a need to be attractive to the potential hosts? Man, that doesn't make sense. Attraction is about reproduction and survival. If you can just take a host, why do you need to be in a host that another potential host sees as attractive?"
"Power?" Jurgen mused.
"Maybe," Blair agreed, most of his attention still on Jim. "Definitely not something I'd make a conclusion about at this point."
"Agreed." Jurgen sat on the edge of the bed, his hip pressed to Tobias' leg, and she spared him a smile before going back to typing. Blair had always seen military units and sexuality as mutually exclusive, but if he and Jim weren't doing it, Blair was pretty sure they were the only ones who weren't.
Tobias and Jurgen were sending out major signals, and while Miko Bruhn and Hannu Knudsen were more subtle, Blair was a good sixty percent sure they were sleeping together. It would explain why Bruhn had given up his career and his life to try and protect Knudsen against the bogus rape charges. Of course Makepeace wasn't sharing time with anyone except his own hand, but then again, that might just be the man's personality. So far, Blair had the impression that he was a man who didn't let his guard down long enough to let anyone inside. Even Tobias, who had been in the same organization before coming to Section, got little more than disinterested looks from him. That was still better than the hate Blair got, but it wasn't exactly a warm and friendly team-feeling he had for anyone.
Blair must have been silent for too long because Jim turned around to glare, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked from Jurgen to Blair.
"They're hierarchical," Blair said.
"We knew that already," Tobias pointed out even as she typed Blair's comments into the computer for Section.
"No, we knew they had System Lords who acted as dictators over large groups of goa'uld, jaffa, and humans," Jurgen said as he nodded in agreement with Blair.
"But these are two minor goa'uld, and they're hierarchical with each other, refusing to allow one another to get even one step ahead. And the fact that they are so carefully trying to maintain an equal standing when equality is clearly not their norm…" Blair grimaced as he tried to figure that one out.
"Someone or something is forcing them into unnatural patterns of behavior," Jurgen nodded. "Clare got a number of clear shots from the hidden camera, so we should have an identity on the hosts and information on their locations soon enough, and then we should be able to make more observations."
"Anything else?" Jim asked when the room went silent for several minutes.
"Oh man, off watching two people walk down a street? I'm impressed that we came up with that much." Blair crossed his own arms in imitation of Jim and dared the man to press the issue. If Jim wanted to act like an asshole, Blair could out-asshole him any day of the week.
"We should head back to the university." Jim nodded to himself without bothering to ask for anyone's input. "Knudsen, you take rear. The rest of you are off until Dr. Sandburg goes to a few sessions and establishes our cover."
"I'll go get my papers," Blair said as he got up.
"You mean you really did leave them behind?" Jim demanded. Blair offered his Sentinel a sweet smile that did little to hide his frustration before heading out of the room. Outside, he nearly walked into Makepeace.
"Always watch that your retreat is clear or you're going to get someone killed, Sandburg," Makepeace growled.
"I was trusting you to do the watching thing, actually," Blair offered as he gave the man a smile and slid past him as he headed for the room he and Jim were sharing. Yeah, Makepeace had been given the signal that he could come in the second Jim had issued the order, but Blair just had the creepy feeling that the man had stood in the hall and waited for a chance to harass Blair. He was a grade-A asshole. Blair so would have nagged Jim about sending him back except that Nikita wanted him on the mission and Jim said he trusted Makepeace's instincts in battle if not his attitude. Personally, Blair didn't trust him far enough to let the man borrow his favorite pencil.
Jim caught up to him in their room. "You get your papers, Chief?" he asked, all the surliness of just minutes ago gone as he stood leaning against the door with a relaxed smile.
Blair shoved his conference registration in his pocket and turned on Jim. "Yeah," he said, his voice dark. Jim frowned at him for a second.
"Chief, you okay?"
"Other than trying to figure out who pissed on your cornflakes this morning, I'm great," Blair said as he shoved past Jim and headed for the stairs.
"Chief!" Jim called out, but Blair was out the door and hurrying across the cobbled brick of Castle Square. "Sandburg!" Jim caught Blair's arm just as he reached the yellow-tented booths selling local food. "Blair, hold on." Jim yanked Blair to a halt, and Blair glared at him. "Talk to me, Chief."
"Why? You're so busy snapping at me that I didn't think we were talking anymore."
Jim stepped back looking confused, and Blair immediately felt the guilt seep in through the cracks like floodwater into his soul. It made him feel dirty. "Jim," he said softly.
"No, I know. I'm trying," Jim said as he started walking toward the university. Blair closed his eyes and fought with his own overgrown emotions before he hurried to fall into step next to Jim.
"I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated," Blair apologized.
"Frustrated as in…"
"Frustrated as in you don't seem to be talking to me like an equal partner anymore," Blair quickly clarified. Yeah, he was frustrated in other ways too, but Jim needed time to work through those thoughts, and Blair wasn't pushing, not when he wasn't sure whether Jim wanted him or a method of controlling his senses and his addiction to hormones. And it was really fucking with Blair's self-image to realize that if he was nothing more than a way for Jim to gain that control, he would still go ahead with the relationship.
"This is just a difficult spot for me to be in. They need to see me as a commander," Jim said, his voice a whisper that didn't carry past them, but Blair understood that Jim was still breaking protocol every time he talked about the mission in the open like this. Blair reached out and let his hand rest on Jim's back, and Jim's arm immediately reciprocated.
"I just need to know that you respect my opinions."
"Everyone respects your opinions, Dr. Sandburg. If you told the commissioner that they needed to paint the whole precinct pink to better communicate with victims of crime, he'd have the painters there in a week."
"Oh man, now that would be an interesting experiment in control," Blair said as he thought about Simon's face as the painters came in with their pink paint.
"Don't think about it, Darwin. I will rat you out to Simon and the commissioner."
"Jim, I don't actually care what they think about me." Blair cringed a little as he recognized his own lie. "Okay, I care. I especially care about Simon's opinion. However, their opinions don't matter like yours do, so when you shut me down without even listening like back in the room, I just start worrying about our relationship."
"Our relationship," Jim echoed.
"Our relationship, our friendship, four years of partnering, our relationship," Blair said, pointedly leaving out the parts of the relationship they weren't as sure about yet. They walked under the blue sky, and Blair let himself focus on some pink and orange graffiti sprayed on a tan brick building as Jim's arm guided him around a corner. On the smaller streets, pedestrians and cars shared the road, and Jim switched sides to keep himself between Blair and the slowly moving traffic. The flowerbeds on the university grounds came into view before Jim took a deep breath.
"So, what are you going to do while I sit in and listen to a lecture on organization effectiveness with entry-level employees and establishing corporate culture?" Blair asked casually.
Jim had already discussed with the conference organizers that Blair had received some death threats and Jim needed to stay fairly close, but right now Blair needed distance. He needed distance to try and tease out which of these negative vibes were coming from Jim the man, which were coming from the Sentinel, and which were coming from Blair's own insecurities about this change in their relationship which hadn't actually changed yet. They were sharing a bed, and Blair might as well be sharing a bunk with one of the monks from St. Sebastian's. So, he officially invited Jim to do something else while he was doing the academic thing.
"Blair."
"Consider it a test. You get to track me in the middle of two hundred people all as boring as I am. Besides, there are only a few sessions in English, so I won't be in there for all that long, but I really do want to talk to Dr. Gorshe and hear his lecture. And trust me, you would be bored stupid."
"And I won't be stuck sitting out here?" Jim demanded.
Blair smiled and looked around at the university square. "Sunlight, flowers, a fountain, and all the pretty college girls you can look at. You'll be fine," Blair said as he patted Jim on the arm and headed for the building.
"Chief, be careful," Jim offered his final words of advice as he settled on one of the benches surrounding the sunken fountain.
"No problem," Blair offered brightly as he walked backwards for a few steps so he could wave to his worrywart Sentinel. For a couple of hours, he was going to let his academic curiosity take over while he let his subconscious worry about the increasing tensions between him and Jim. He might have said they were unresolved sexual conflicts, but Blair was perfectly willing to solve any sexual conflicts, and Jim claimed he was too, even if he wanted to wait.
Blair forced his mind away from that topic as he showed the girl in the conference area his paperwork and claimed his badge. His had a little American flag in the corner, and Blair could see that a number of other conference-goers had the same little symbol. It shouldn't have surprised him given that the University of Maribor partnered internationally with a number of universities.
The lecture he wanted was in the main hall, and he wandered in, nodding vaguely at people whose names didn't even sound vaguely familiar. At most conferences, he recognized someone whose published work he'd read or people recognized his name. Here he just wandered the room, picking up a stale donut from the back as he tried to figure out where to sit. The chairs on the edges of the sections had already been claimed with notebooks and briefcases claiming the territory as the various academics wandered the room. Blair spotted a potential friendly face perched on a chair on the far right aisle, and headed that way. He smiled as he slipped past the man whose glasses were sliding down his nose in order to get to one of the free chairs.
"Hey," Blair said as he dropped into a seat near the other man. At least this one didn't look ancient or grumpy, and most of the room was filled with ancient and/or grumpy. Up close, he could see the small lines that suggested that the man wasn't as young as he looked at first, but at least he was close enough in age to Blair for them to talk… hopefully.
"Hi," the other man offered as he shuffled his papers and frowned. A paper slithered to the floor and Blair bent over to retrieve it before offering it to his neighbor. "Thanks."
"No problem. Oh man, I'm terrible with paper which is why I'm trying to switch over to the electronic age. Less shit to drop," Blair confided as he pulled out a handheld recorder.
"I always found those things recorded more of the audience coughing than the speaker." The other man shoved his glasses back up and sat back in his chair. "They're great in the field though."
"I do pretty good with this model," Blair shrugged. "Blair Sandburg from Washington State."
"Daniel Jackson from Colorado," the other man offered.
"No offense, man, but you look a little out of place," Blair looked around the room. Daniel laughed.
"I hate to point it out, but so do you."
"Yeah, I kinda do. I work with victims of crime, specializing in the cultural aspects that reinforce victimization. I'm looking at how corporate culture can overcome those traits."
"Anthropology?" Daniel asked, both eyebrows going up.
"Yeah. Since I was sixteen and someone introduced me to Sir Richard Burton's work. Although when I was sixteen, I was way more interested in his translation of the Kama Sutra than his anthropological observations, you know?"
"On the Means of Attracting Others to One's Self," Daniel quoted.
"Oh man, yeah. At sixteen that pretty much defined my life's goal. So, what's your specialty?"
"Archeology."
"Whoa, you really are way out of your field," Blair said with a strange look at the man. Daniel shook his head.
"I specialize in Egypt. I'm looking at the trade and business models of Egyptian society, and I thought this would be a good way to pick up some of the academic background on modern business models so I could apply them."
"Man, no offense, but wasn't the Egyptian business model pretty much slavery?"
Daniel blinked. "Seasonal conscripts, maybe. But have you considered the impracticality of having an entire culture based on slavery? Even the American south was unable to sustain itself without constant shipments of new slaves. My thesis is that the later kingdoms had much more in common with current business practices."
Blair let himself focus on the conversation until the lecture started. Daniel took notes while Blair kept his recorder aimed to the front and all seemed to go well until Blair glanced over at the clock to check the time. Against the wall under the clock leaned a man with graying hair and dark eyes. Shit, shit, and double shit. That was Colonel Jack O'Neill, and just why was it that Blair was always the one who seemed to end up in the middle of all the falling shit?