NCIS/TS Fic: The Cost of Divorce 11/?
The Cost of Divorce
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Jim/Blair: Established relationship. Jim/Gibbs: Past Relationship. Gibbs/DiNozzo pre-slash.
Summary: An NCIS agent, a Baltimore detective, a Sentinel, a Guide, a serial killer. What more do you need?
Chapter Summary: I've got a Dad??!!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from the TV-shows "NCIS" and "The Sentinel". NCIS is created and owned by David P. Bellisarius and CBS. The Sentinel still belongs to Paramount and Pet Fly. I'm just playing… No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta'd by: by my (in)significant other... Any mistakes left are mine and somewhat deliberate.
For: Ree/Triskellion... she knows why and thanks again
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Chapter One. / Chapter Two. / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight. / Chapter Nine. / Chapter Ten Revised.
Chapter 11
Blair was about to answer Gibbs when the conference room phone rang. Further, as Gibbs got up to deal with the interruption the whole question became moot as Jim and Ducky walked in; Jim, not-so-surreptitiously, giving Blair the once over.
“Calm down before you have a stroke out there, Sandburg,” was growled with just enough playfulness to remove any implied sting.
Gibbs, meanwhile, having snagged the phone, promptly wished he hadn’t.
“Sandburg, were you expecting a delivery from the FBI?” Gibbs asked.
Blair, obviously taken aback for a moment, unleashed a blinding smile on the room as he worked out the where, when, what and why of the unexpected delivery. “Nope, but I can make a guess.”
“And...” Gibbs wasn’t impressed with the verbal dancing; it was late and they hadn’t found out who their perpetrator was yet. Gibb knew that unlike the Cop Shows that he’d heard discussed cases didn’t just solve themselves, neatly, inside a 42 minute block... but that didn’t stop him wishing that they could.
“Jason probably packed up our stuff and forwarded it here on the basis that Jim and I would be tied up helping you out,” Blair explained with a smile that said he was totally going to ignore the not so subtle hints to get on with it. Blair reacted to this passive aggressive behaviour by digging his heels in, and in this case a little digging wasn’t going to hurt as they weren’t going to be arresting anyone tonight.
“All our stuff?” A little trepidation flitted across Jim’s otherwise controlled features as he tried to defuse the situation. A small huff of breath was all that indicated that Jim was more than a little amused at the thought that he was the one attempting to defuse the situation.
“Don’t sweat it, Jim, Jason know better than to go looking in my bag of tricks.” Blair knew he shouldn’t be teasing his partner, but he’d never been able to pass up the chance and he wasn’t about to start now. Also, he had a little revenge to enact as well; since Jim didn’t look like he was planning on explaining his dance with Gibbs anytime in the near future.
“Jason might know better, but what about security at the front gate?” Jim reminded Blair that they weren’t on friendly territory.
“Oh shit,” Blair actually started to blush as he remembered some of the items packed in his go bag; things that made the essence of Sandburg he kept in his nap-sack seem tame by comparison.
So the kid can be flustered, Gibbs was amused to observe. “Security hasn’t opened anything,” Gibbs let a small grin play at the corner of his mouth, “yet.”
“So, what sort of toys you got in your bag, Blair?” Tony joined in the fun, “Whips, chains or just a lot of leather?”
“Ohhhhh,” Abby was looking at Tony with a new appreciation, “somebody else who likes to play.”
“Abbs!” Gibbs fired off a stern look at his forensic technician, not that it did any thing more than serve as a warning.
“Okay, Bossman, I’ll behave.” She blew the whole contrite thing by dimpling at her boss.
Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed. “Good.” Gibbs turned back to face Blair, “As much as I want to catch this bastard sooner, rather than later, I think we’ll all be better served reconvening first thing in the morning.”
“He means 0600 or earlier,” Jim smiled at Blair.
“You military types don’t understand sleeping in, do you?” Blair whined, though the look on his face made it clear he was teasing. If he thought he’d get closer to ID-ing the perp by working through the night, Blair would be the first to say ‘hand me the caffeine’ but clear head, clear eyes, and VICAP search results would make for a faster resolution. “I’ll ring Carlo and see if he’s got a room free.”
“Carlo?” DiNozzo wondered in a voice that suggested maybe Blair ought to see if two rooms were available.
“I’ll take DiNozzo back to my place.” Gibbs snapped, hearing the unspoken request in DiNozzo’s voice as loud as everyone else in the room.
“Whoa, Fast moves there, Bossman,” Abby whispered, not quite softly enough.
“Abbs, not now” Abby looked anything but contrite, whilst DiNozzo blushed, finally realising what the exchange had looked like.
“Hey, Jim, he growls almost as well as you.” Blair snickered as he started dialling the aforementioned Carlo. “Hey, Carlo, you’re on concierge duty tonight, cool. Think the Westin can scrounge up a room for Jim and I?”
“The Westin?” Tony looked like he really wished he could finagle an invite.
“Thank, Carlo, I owe you.” Blair smiled as he hung up his cell. “He’s got one of the special suites free, Jim,” Blair commented as he ignored Tony’s whimper. “Pure cotton sheets, merino wool blankets, no fragrances, and a Jacuzzi.”
“I could always drop Jim and Blair off,” Ducky offered thinking that this might be an opportune moment to have a private word with both men.” I’ve got to go past the Westin anyway,” Ducky said blandly, continuing with the lie.
“Jim?” Blair, happy enough to leave the decision up to his partner, missed the look of incredulity that quickly flashed across Gibbs’ face.
Jim, happy to have a reasonable pretext for getting Blair and Dr. Mallard somewhere private quickly agreed to the scheme while he, too, ignored the old-fashioned look that Gibbs was directing at NCIS’s Medical Examiner.
“I’ll let the gatehouse know you’re picking up your bags on the way out, then.” Gibbs wasn’t happy that no-one was explaining what was going on in the background but he was already planning on grilling Ducky first thing in the morning. It would be best to get his Cascadian guests on their way; so, with a few curt words Gibbs instructed the gatehouse to be ready to hand over the bags to Doctor Mallard and his guests as they left the yard.
“Back here at 0630 hundred,” Gibbs snapped as he stood up. “DiNozzo, with me,” Gibbs was heading out before anyone had a chance to comment, forcing Tony to run to catch up with him.
“Looks like we’re with you, Ducky,” Blair commented as he did a final sweep of the conference room; checking the searches still running and grabbing up a couple of reams of notes.
“We’ll see you in the morning, Abigail,” Ducky said as he went to lead Jim and Blair out towards the elevator. When Abby didn’t answer, Ducky looked to see the forensic scientist still staring out the door after Tony DiNozzo, “Abby?”
“Did Bossman just invite Detective DiNozzo back to his place?”
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Ducky smiled.
“Awesome.” Abby started dancing around the conference room.
“Go home Abby. You can grill Gibbs in the morning, if you are feeling brave enough.”
“Okay, Duckman. See you all in the morning.” Abby continued to bounce out of the conference room.
“Is she always like that?” Jim asked.
“Sometimes she’s worse,” Ducky answered with a smile.
“Chief,” this was addressed to Blair, “I’m getting too old to keep up with energizer bunnies.”
“Don’t worry, Jim. A good night will see you right as rain.” Blair smiled lecherously telegraphing just what he meant by a good night.
& & & & & & & & & & & &
“Wow,” Blair’s face lit up - almost enough to light the night sky - as he got his first look at Doctor Mallard’s vehicle; a Morgan plus 4 roadster in immaculate condition.
Jim, climbing into the front passenger seat, had to agree. “Nice vehicle you’ve got here, doc.”
“At my age one should, occasionally, allow oneself a little vicarious pleasure,” Ducky was more than pleased at the reaction to his pride and joy, even more so given the source. “I used to love driving the roads around Monte Carlo and the Swiss Alps in my youth. Even England has more than a few good driving roads.”
“And let me guess, you’d happily hit the roads again?” Blair was smiling as he imagined letting the roadster hit its straps.
“All I need is a couple of travelling companions,” Ducky was also caught up in imagining letting his Morgan have her head; maybe with Jim and Blair riding along. “Still, it’s getting late gentlemen, how about we get you both settled?”
“Let’s,” Blair agreed with a yawn. “I used to be able to work 30 hours straight,” he groused.
“That was last week,” Jim teased.
Easing the Morgan out of its parking spot Ducky had to admit, even if only to himself, that the two men riding with him were a pleasure to observe. A quick stop at the Yard’s gate had three cases loaded in to the trunk; nothing exploded but Blair supervised the loading of the smallest case as though one wrong move and all hell would break loose.
“So, what’s in that case, young man?” Ducky asked as he drove out onto Marine Ave heading for 12th Street.
“Just a few tools of the trade,” Blair evaded while he concentrated on Jim’s shoulders; shoulders that were obviously tensing up. “You all right there, Jim?” The question was asked in a mild voice which fooled no-one.
Ducky cast a quick glance to his right and noticed that his front seat passenger did look a little uncomfortable. “I think I’d better have another look at you, Detective Ellison,” Ducky commented, thinking that the apparent distress of the older detective was a convenient reason to accompany both men into the hotel.
Jim, normally the first to shrug off any suggestion that he might need medical assistance, agreed with doctor Mallard so readily that Blair nearly fainted in the back seat.
Skilfully navigating the one-way street system around the Westin Grand, Ducky pulled into the parking area in front of the hotel. Before he’d even had a chance to cut the engine, 2 elegantly dressed bell-hops approached, trolley car, large enough to hold the entire Loui Vuitton range, in tow.
Blair, climbing out after Jim, started to giggle as he took in the sight at the trunk of Ducky’s Morgan. “If I packed everything I’d owned when I lived under the stairs at the loft, I still wouldn’t have been able to fill that thing,” the stage whisper carried to the Concierge who was following along behind the Bell-hops.
“Somehow that does not suprise me, Dr Sandburg, I suspect you’d always have trouble filling one of my trolleys,” Carlo grinned as he stepped forward to shake Blair’s hand.
“Carlo,” Blair glared at one of his Mother’s oldest friends.
“I’m on duty,” Carlo would not now, nor ever, embarrass the hotel by being anything less than completely professional even when dealing with someone whose nappies he’d once changed.
“Fine,” Blair acquiesced to the unspoken request. “Carlo, thanks for letting us use the clean suite.”
“Don’t thank me, Dr Sandburg. The FBI rang and requested we hold a room for you,” Carlo smiled at Blair’s slightly pole-axed look. “Dr Gideon presumed you’d call here first when looking for accommodation.”
“Getting predictable in your old age, Chief?” Jim happily joined the conversation, his headache momentarily forgotten. “What next, grey hairs?”
“At least I’ve still got my hair,” Blair shot back giving as good as he got. “Where are my manners anyway?” Blair sighed.
“You’ve got them?” Jim sallied back but quickly shut up when Blair directed a look that promised retribution.
“Carlo, you remember my partner, Detective Jim Ellison?”
“Detective Ellison, it is good to meet you again,” Carlo acknowledged Jim before he turned to face Doctor Mallard. “Ducky?” Carlo blinked twice as he looked the NCIS Medical Examiner up and down. “Duck? So you finally tracked the scamp down? Good on you,” Carlo then ignored all protocol and pulled Doctor Mallard into a bone crushing hug.
Blair, who’d been about to introduce the NCIS ME, was well and truly caught by surprise; after all, Carlo, who’d changed Blair’s nappies more than once still steadfastly refused to use the familiar forms of address when in professional mode was suddenly all over Doctor Mallard like white on rice.
“Carlo? Carlo Romena?” Ducky returned the hug ten-fold. “My god, I haven’t seen you since that episode with the Contessa, what is it?”
“Twenty-five years,” Carlo answered before Ducky had even finished the question, which proved to be an ill advised move as it gave Ducky time to reflect on just what Carlo had said in greeting.
“You knew?” The look Ducky sent Carlo’s way would have done Gibbs proud.
“Perhaps we could take this somewhere a little more private?” Jim interjected having picked up on the underlying topic.
Carlo, no fool, suddenly regretted his outburst. “Come, I will show you to your room, personally.”
“Jim?” Blair looked up at his partner with wide eyed worry. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing bad, babe,” Jim tried to reassure Blair but, judging by the staccato beat of Blair’s heart that he could hear, failing miserably.
“But something is going on, isn’t it?” Blair pressed.
“Wait till we’re in our room, okay?” Jim was actively avoiding looking into Blair’s eyes.
Seeing the set of Jim’s shoulders and taking into account the fact that Jim had indicated he would be explaining, Blair turned to Carlo, “Lead the way, Carol. Umm, Carlo...” Jim stifled a nervous laugh.
Carlo signalled the bell-hop to follow with the luggage, such that it was, before he walked into the lobby of his pride and joy. Carlo had been approached all of DC’s top hotels, offers of up to three times his current salary being tabled as inducements, but he loved the Westin and could not be bought for mere money. Walking into the lobby, with its white marble floor, plush woollen carpets, dark oak desks and furnishings suited to Millionaire’s row, anyone of taste would be impressed. The high ceiling and lighting added to the impression of a truly comfortable and spacious place.
“Genelle,” Carlo approached the front reception desk, “I’ll need the keys to 615, and, would you check if room 617 is free?”
“We only need the one suite, Carlo,” Blair comments as he came up behind the man.
“I rather thought Donald might prefer a room for the night, as well,” Carlo offered with a nod to Ducky.
“That would be wonderful, Carlo, but I must get home to Mother and the corgis,” Ducky protested, as much for form’s sake as anything else. The night nurse he employed to assist in the care of his aging mother should be able to handle things for the night; even the corgis.
Jim, having failed to pick up on the fact that Ducky was vacillating about the offer, pulled out the big guns. “Doc, might be useful if you spent the night close by,” Ellison grimaced in pain as he shrugged his shoulders, “Gibbs still packs a mean punch.”
“Jim,” Blair looked closely at his partner; the what are you up too clearly heard, though no words were spoken.
Ducky caved under Jim’s request. If nothing else, a spare suite to retire to might be advantageous if there was any metaphorical blood spilt tonight. “Carlo, that would be acceptable. Could you organise...”
“Parking? But, of course.” An insistent flurry of hand signals produced a valet to take Ducky’s keys whilst reception handed over another room pass. “This way, gentlemen,” Carlo led the eclectic group towards the elevator.
“Hey, Carlo, I’ll take the stairs, if you don’t mind?” Blair didn’t even wait for a reply but was fast moving towards the stairs when Jim caught up with him.
Ducky turned to look at Carlo, a raised eyebrow indicating he wanted to know if Carlo knew what that was all about.
“Blair got caught in an elevator once,” Carlo started explaining. “Seemed someone was trying to rip a lot of cash out of a vault in the building.”
“And?” the explanation was, after all as clear as mud.
“And, the criminal was threatening to drop the elevator 40 odd floors. To prove it, the criminal, calling himself Galileo, dropped the elevator car 10 floors, at least twice. Blair has been a little wary of them ever since. He’ll use one, but only if he’s exhausted. Worried the building manager here no end; high-powered guest refusing to use the lift.”
“So, that’s how you know the tale?” Ducky was initially put out, quite a bit, in fact, that Carlo seemed to know more about his son than he did.
“I was there when he explained it, which is the only reason I know the story,” Carlo was a student of human nature, after all, and had picked up on Ducky’s annoyance.
“I take it he doesn’t know?” Carlo asked as both men stepped into the lift.
No need to ask who he was. “I didn’t even know until this afternoon,” Ducky was not a particularly happy man. “Then to find out that you seem to have known for a very long time?” Ducky gave his long-time friend a meaningful;look.
“I was asked not to tell you, back then,” Carlo, at least, had the grace to look mildly ashamed. “I gave my word.” He gave Ducky a fierce, reassuring hug.
“And our word always was your bond,” Ducky sighed, accepting the inevitable.
“Losing track of you all those years ago didn’t help, Donald.”
“Well, how about you fill me in on what little else you might now?” Ducky invited, pointedly.
Ding.
“Saved by the bell, Carlo,” Ducky was more amused than anything that the lift door opened onto the 6th floor before Carlo could share any other secrets. “We’ll talk later, maybe?”
“Later,” The two men walked towards the stair well and listened while gentle bickering back and forth could be heard echoing up the stairwell. “Jim does love Blair, I hope you realise, Duck,” Carlo commented into a moment of silence.
“I’m not a complete idiot, Carlo.”
“Of course not,” was all Carlo had time to say as the men that he and Ducky were discussing appeared on the landing below, “The lift is faster, you know,” Carlo teased Blair.
“But I can’t fall as far,” Blair sassed back.
“You can still break your neck, Chief.”
“Not with my buff toy-boy there to catch me,” Blair let loose with a blinding smile as he raced passed Ellison, reaching the 6th floor ahead of his friend. “Now who’s got what room, Carlo?”
& & & & & & & & &
“Well,” Blair was sitting comfortably on a plush love seat, apparently totally relaxed though looks could be deceiving, “is anyone going to talk about the elephant in the room? Or am I just going to have to use my imagination?”
“It’s about today’s zones,” Jim, knowing of old the sheer power of Blair’s imagination grabbed the metaphorical bull elephant by the tusks, “I think I know what caused at least two of them and it’s not quite what you were thinking.”
“Only two?” Blair cocked his head to the side as he considered the zones of the day: zone one, cause probably related to something at the crime scene; zone two was probably a result of slipping back out of Shaman space, for want of a better phrase; zone three happened while Jim was assisting forensics, so did zone four for that matter. “So, it’s not your control slipping?” To top everything off, Blair wasn’t exactly happy that Jim was speaking out of turn, as it were; a quick flick of his eyes to Carlo and an interrogative eyebrow was all Blair said on the matter, though.
Carlo, noticing the eye movement, had the grace to blush. “I could leave if you prefer, gentlemen? Though I don’t think Jim’s sensitivities are the issue right at the moment.”
A shoulder shrug and hands out, palms up, in a classical asking manner, was Blair’s reply. Blair had no idea what was going on, but was really starting to worry. Carlo as a friendly face might be just what the doctor, pun intended, needed.
“Carlo knows part of it,” Ducky said with more than a little bite.
“Jim? I’m tired man and you are all starting to freak me out a little here.”
“Ducky smells like you.”
“What?” Normally Blair was five to ten steps ahead of the conversation, normally, but Jim’s non sequitur total threw him.
“Ducky smells like you.” Jim didn’t growl but it was a close thing.
“How close?”
“Naomi close,” Jim answered obliquely; not that it mattered, Blair understood the message. When Blair didn’t say anything, anything at all, Jim stepped forwards but was warded off by his partner; his very silent partner.
Seconds ticked by as Blair sat, processing.
When the seconds turned into minutes, however, Jim took steps. “Blair, Ducky smells guide close.”
It was the word Guide that pulled Blair out of his funk. “You knew?” Blair turned and levelled his own version of the mess with me and you’re toast stare at Carlo. “How long have you known, Carlo? How long?”
“I gave Naomi my word, Blair. I gave her my word at a time when my word was the only thing I had.” Carlo ignored the other men in the room and approached Blair, kneeling on the carpet and placing his hands, in supplication, on Blair’s knee.
“So, you’ve always known?”
“Yes, Blair, I’ve always known.” Carlo had to smile as he watched the anger and frustrations bleed out of Blair’s countenance. “But I didn’t know that Ducky was living in Washington; that I swear.”
“Let me guess, if you had known you’d have found a way to get Doctor Mallard and I to cross paths before now?”
“I’m sure your friend,” and at this comment Carlo nodded his head toward Jim, “would have smelled the relationship. Detective Ellison does, after all, have a very good nose.”
“Doctor Mallard,” Blair looked up suddenly, “did you know?”
“Not until today, my dear boy,” Ducky blushed a bright scarlet as the colloquial reply dropped off his lips. “My dear boy?” A note of apprehension colored Ducky’s question even as the elder man opened his arms in welcome.
Jim watched, a grin a mile wide on his face, as Blair, who had just been complaining about being tired, shot out of the loveseat and into Ducky’s embrace; almost bowling the man over.
“Jim, I’ve got a dad.” The Sandburg special 1000 watt (patent-pending) smile did a good job of lighting up the room. If the curtains hadn’t been drawn the smile would have lit up most of Washington.
“So it seems, Chief.” Fond indulgence and the sinking feeling that sleep wasn’t going to happen tonight warred in Jim’s breast; indulgence won, hands down.
“I think this is my cue to leave,” Carlo whispered to Jim as he, also, looked on at the old pair with fond indulgence. “Tell Blair I will speak with him in the morning, please.”
“I will,” Jim took the two sets of key-cards Carlo handed him, “I take it the other keys are for Doctor Mallard?”
“Yes, for the suite next door if he needs it.”
“I’m not so sure he will,” Jim allowed.
“Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Blair asked as Carlo headed for the door, “and where are you going, Carlo?”
“Back to my desk, Blair, and I was just giving Jim the keys. Some of us have do to work, after all.”
“Yes, Blair, and some of us have to work in the morning,” Ducky commented. “I’m not as young as I used to be. But, as Carlo has so kindly supplied me with a room to bed down in, how about we all meet for breakfast?” Ducky invited as he watched Blair’s face fall at the idea he might be leaving. “I’ll be next door, after all.”
Blair tightened the embrace before he nodded, once, and stepped away.
“However, I’ll have a last look at you, Detective.” Ducky was already heading towards Jim with purposeful stride very similar to Blair’s.
“Two of them,” Jim grumbled. “Now I’ve got two of them.”
“Yes, Detective, I believe you have. Now sit.”
Jim sat.
Blair didn’t even try to hide his amusement though the last laugh was on Jim as Blair actually collapsed to the floor because he was laughing so hard.
“Laugh it up, wonder-boy, you’ll get yours in the end.”
“Oooooh, promises.” Blair grinned evilly, “and it’s not me who’s going to be getting it in the end.”
“Gentlemen, please, a little decorum.” Ducky scolded both men but he was smiling so much that the scold had no impact. “You, Detective seem fit enough for most activities though I’d advise against running...”
“He won’t be running anywhere.” Blair interrupted.
“I was going to say running after any criminals, Blair,” Ducky rolled his eyes. “On that note I think I shall seek my bed and I suggest that you gentlemen do the same.
“Hey, doctor’s orders,” Blair picked himself up off the carpet and literally danced towards the bedroom. “I’ve never had doctor’s orders to take Jim to bed.”
“Are you trying to get me killed, here, Ducky?”
“Would it be such a bad way to go?” Ducky whispered as he left suite knowing that Jim would hear him. Today, well yesterday, had been a very good day.
& & & & & & & & & & &
Jim walked into the master suite in time to see Blair digging out a few, very select, items from his special go bag. Just the thought of what Blair was probably planning had him hardening. “Chief,” Jim’s voice was already husky with desire, “what are you up to?”
“Oooh, about six inches,” Blair quipped back as he turned and slide a disc into the CD player that formed part of the entertainment unit of the bedroom. Peruvian drums and jungle sounds, deep and low, vibrated throughout the room. “Relax, Jim, let me care for you.” Blair’s voice had lost the teasing quality it held a moment ago; now it was deep throated, coming as it was, from the base of Blair’s lungs.
“Blair,” Jim let loose the focused control he normally held over his senses, trusting that Blair would let him fly but catch him long before he fell.
Banked lust assaulted Jim’s nasal passages as the pheromones poured from Blair’s pores; ginger scented with a hint of green tea, earthy, pungent and laced with pure sex.
Jim’s ears were treated to drums, both those held by shaman hands deep in the forests of Peru and the deep, regular beat of Blair’s heat in counter point. The gentle pulse of ebb and flow as blood pumped throughout his guide’s body sounding a sweet thrum.
Sight was being treated to soft hues of umber, of flickering shadow, of bright coronas as Blair lit beeswax candles, before turning the incandescent lights off. Sound was given an extra treat as Blair slid cloth from shoulder, hip and thigh. Naked, his penis jutted forward like a standard, Blair walked toward Jim. “Come, my love, follow me.”
Jim happily took the outstretched hand and allowed Blair to lead him, as they walked side by side, closer to the bed. Blair finally turned Jim so that he was standing with his thighs backed up against the high side of the king sized bed. Without uttering a word, Blair began to strip Jim of his clothes before he encouraged the man to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I know you, Jim.” Blair kissed the very crown of Jim’s head, once, twice, five times; each kiss, a whisper of power as Blair acknowledged all Jim was to him, “Sentinel.” Kiss. “Man.” Kiss. “Shield.” Kiss. “Lover.” Kiss. “Foundation.” Kiss.
“You know me,” Jim whispered as his senses felt Blair mark him.
“I see you, Jim.” Blair lowered his mouth to kiss and caress each of Jim’s eyelids before moving his focus to the bridge between the eyes. Here, Blair began to suckle gently, marking Jim.
“You see me,” Jim drowsily replied as he began to sink into the loving grounding ceremony that Blair was acting out upon his willing flesh.
“I taste you, Jim.” The words the shortest warning before Blair moved to plunder Jim’s mouth.
Jim, sinking in the bliss that was his partner, opened up like a petal in bloom to Blair’s tongue; the kiss was anything but chaste. With slow, deliberate thrusts, Blair made love to Jim’s mouth; his tongue gliding across the top palette; dancing around Jim’s tongue, engaging in a battle for dominance before switching to submission. As their mouths moved together, each man trying to climb into the others body, their hands in synchronicity rose to grasp the others head trying to pull faces closer. Only when a lack of air became dangerous did they part, panting.
“You taste me,” Jim sighed contently.
Blair eased back a little to enjoy the view of a thoroughly kissed Jim. “I’m going to do more than taste you,” Blair smiled.
Jim’s only coherent thought at that was if he could bottle that tone of voice he’d never have to work again. Add the fact that Blair, his hair also thoroughly mussed, still looked like an angel imagined by Botticelli, and weaker men would fall. The sight of Blair nibbling his way down the long line of Jim’s neck would tempt even the Lord God to sin. Hands ghosting over Jim’s back acting as a counter point to the nips, some gently, some not, as Blair kissed his was towards Jim’s right nipple.
Like his penis, Jim’s nipples were taut and erect, begging for attention. Blair, ever one to please, obliged. Blair’s tongue danced circles around the aureole before his teeth settled in to worry at the nipple. Sucking deep, his cheeks hollowing as he did so, Blair drew as much of Jim’s breast into his mouth as he could. Letting the suction fall away, Blair bit Jim’s nipple, drawing a small amount of blood, which he drank down, before moving to Jim’s left nipple for a repeat performance.
As Jim arched into the pain and pleasure, Blair used his own weight to force Jim backward until Jim was lying down, his knees bent over the bed’s edge. “You are my strength,” Blair undulated up Jim’s body to claim another deep kiss.
“Strength,” Jim only just managed to ground the word out as he drowned in the sensation of Blair’s chest hairs as they passed over his bare chest.
Pressing forward, Blair allowed his whole body to drape over Jim’s momentarily. The feel of skin on skin; hardness against hardness was intoxicating.
Jim’ the stronger of the two, tried to push up into Blair’s weight, to feel Blair’s erect cock against his.
“Not yet,” Blair lifted himself away from Jim, “not yet.”
When Jim moaned in need Blair smiled wickedly.
“Please,” Jim tried begging even though he knew it would not work.
Rather than answer, Blair bent forward and began to tongue fuck Jim’s belly button. “Soon, I’ll be doing this to you, Jim. Do you want me, too?”
“Please,” Jim arched his back opening up his abdominal line making it easier for Blair to bury his tongue into that point that joined humanity all the way back to the dawn of time. “Please, fuck me, babe.”
“Not yet,” Blair left torturing Jim’s middle and began to kiss down the line of fine hair between navel and public crest. “You smell so hot,” a soft breath caressed Jim’s cock as Blair positioned his head so that it was cradled in the V between pubic mound and erect cock. Gently shaking his head, whilst he sucked at the junction below his mouth, allowed Blair to tease Jim on two fronts; suction at the base of his cock and the feel of cheek, and hair, against the erect member.
After what felt like hours, but in truth had been but moments, Blair eased away and clamped his hand firmly around the base of Jim’s cock. “No coming yet,” Blair warned.
Stepping back, Blair looked down at his handy work and smiled. Jim was laid out before him like a rich feast, finally ready to be enjoyed to the fullest. Knowing that once he began again he would not stop until both men had reached their climax, Blair quickly placed an ultra thin condom over his own hard shaft. The condoms were special order, thin, open at both ends, made to protect fragile tissues from damage rather than prevent contraception. “Ready?” Blair asked.
“More than ready,” Jim sighed and allowed his thighs to spread wider granting easy access to his puckered anus. “Fill me, please fill me.”
Accepting the invitation, Blair knelt down and began to lick at Jim’s opening. Each lick slightly firmer than the one preceding it until Blair’s tongue began to breach the outer ring of muscle. Jim reached down and grabbed Blair’s head trying to pull him closer. As Blair’s tongue continued to work its magic Blair slipped one, then two, then three fingers into Jim’s anus, thrusting, scissoring, and loosening up the passage.
Easing his mouth away, Blair allowed Jim another short respite. Said respite was short lived however as Blair swallowed Jim’s penis; deep throating him like there was no tomorrow.
Jim groaned as the head of his penis hit the back of Blair’s throat. Jim screamed as Blair’s cheeks hollowed out applying suction worthy of a 1000 Horse power hoover. Jim almost blacked out as he came; shooting his essence deep into Blair’s throat. Blair didn’t miss a beat, swallowing all that Jim offered. Only when the last spasm had faded did Blair let Jim’s penis slip from his mouth though his fingers remained buried deep in Jim’s back passage.
“Mine,” Blair smirked as he looked at Jim, boneless, slumped onto the bed.
“Yours,” Jim answered, “now finish it.”
That was all the invitation Blair needed. Pulling his fingers free of Jim’s body Blair lifted, and parted, Jim’s legs allowing him to step close into the bed. With Jim’s legs draped over his shoulders Blair thrust forward, his cock plunging deep into Jim, and nailing Jim’s prostate.
Standing still, Blair watched as Jim adjusted to the greater girth that invaded his body. The instant Jim relaxed around the invasion, Blair began pound into his partner; the thrusts in time with the jungle drums that still played in the background.
Deeper.
Harder.
Faster.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jim kept crying as Blair hit his prostate again and again and again.
“Jim, Jim, Jim, Jiiimmmmmmmmmmm,” Blair screamed as the orgasms tore through him.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” Jim was a counter plea.
Sweaty, panting, slaked, the two men collapsed into blissful sleep.
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Jim/Blair: Established relationship. Jim/Gibbs: Past Relationship. Gibbs/DiNozzo pre-slash.
Summary: An NCIS agent, a Baltimore detective, a Sentinel, a Guide, a serial killer. What more do you need?
Chapter Summary: I've got a Dad??!!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations from the TV-shows "NCIS" and "The Sentinel". NCIS is created and owned by David P. Bellisarius and CBS. The Sentinel still belongs to Paramount and Pet Fly. I'm just playing… No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta'd by: by my (in)significant other... Any mistakes left are mine and somewhat deliberate.
For: Ree/Triskellion... she knows why and thanks again
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter One. / Chapter Two. / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight. / Chapter Nine. / Chapter Ten Revised.
Chapter 11
Blair was about to answer Gibbs when the conference room phone rang. Further, as Gibbs got up to deal with the interruption the whole question became moot as Jim and Ducky walked in; Jim, not-so-surreptitiously, giving Blair the once over.
“Calm down before you have a stroke out there, Sandburg,” was growled with just enough playfulness to remove any implied sting.
Gibbs, meanwhile, having snagged the phone, promptly wished he hadn’t.
“Sandburg, were you expecting a delivery from the FBI?” Gibbs asked.
Blair, obviously taken aback for a moment, unleashed a blinding smile on the room as he worked out the where, when, what and why of the unexpected delivery. “Nope, but I can make a guess.”
“And...” Gibbs wasn’t impressed with the verbal dancing; it was late and they hadn’t found out who their perpetrator was yet. Gibb knew that unlike the Cop Shows that he’d heard discussed cases didn’t just solve themselves, neatly, inside a 42 minute block... but that didn’t stop him wishing that they could.
“Jason probably packed up our stuff and forwarded it here on the basis that Jim and I would be tied up helping you out,” Blair explained with a smile that said he was totally going to ignore the not so subtle hints to get on with it. Blair reacted to this passive aggressive behaviour by digging his heels in, and in this case a little digging wasn’t going to hurt as they weren’t going to be arresting anyone tonight.
“All our stuff?” A little trepidation flitted across Jim’s otherwise controlled features as he tried to defuse the situation. A small huff of breath was all that indicated that Jim was more than a little amused at the thought that he was the one attempting to defuse the situation.
“Don’t sweat it, Jim, Jason know better than to go looking in my bag of tricks.” Blair knew he shouldn’t be teasing his partner, but he’d never been able to pass up the chance and he wasn’t about to start now. Also, he had a little revenge to enact as well; since Jim didn’t look like he was planning on explaining his dance with Gibbs anytime in the near future.
“Jason might know better, but what about security at the front gate?” Jim reminded Blair that they weren’t on friendly territory.
“Oh shit,” Blair actually started to blush as he remembered some of the items packed in his go bag; things that made the essence of Sandburg he kept in his nap-sack seem tame by comparison.
So the kid can be flustered, Gibbs was amused to observe. “Security hasn’t opened anything,” Gibbs let a small grin play at the corner of his mouth, “yet.”
“So, what sort of toys you got in your bag, Blair?” Tony joined in the fun, “Whips, chains or just a lot of leather?”
“Ohhhhh,” Abby was looking at Tony with a new appreciation, “somebody else who likes to play.”
“Abbs!” Gibbs fired off a stern look at his forensic technician, not that it did any thing more than serve as a warning.
“Okay, Bossman, I’ll behave.” She blew the whole contrite thing by dimpling at her boss.
Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed. “Good.” Gibbs turned back to face Blair, “As much as I want to catch this bastard sooner, rather than later, I think we’ll all be better served reconvening first thing in the morning.”
“He means 0600 or earlier,” Jim smiled at Blair.
“You military types don’t understand sleeping in, do you?” Blair whined, though the look on his face made it clear he was teasing. If he thought he’d get closer to ID-ing the perp by working through the night, Blair would be the first to say ‘hand me the caffeine’ but clear head, clear eyes, and VICAP search results would make for a faster resolution. “I’ll ring Carlo and see if he’s got a room free.”
“Carlo?” DiNozzo wondered in a voice that suggested maybe Blair ought to see if two rooms were available.
“I’ll take DiNozzo back to my place.” Gibbs snapped, hearing the unspoken request in DiNozzo’s voice as loud as everyone else in the room.
“Whoa, Fast moves there, Bossman,” Abby whispered, not quite softly enough.
“Abbs, not now” Abby looked anything but contrite, whilst DiNozzo blushed, finally realising what the exchange had looked like.
“Hey, Jim, he growls almost as well as you.” Blair snickered as he started dialling the aforementioned Carlo. “Hey, Carlo, you’re on concierge duty tonight, cool. Think the Westin can scrounge up a room for Jim and I?”
“The Westin?” Tony looked like he really wished he could finagle an invite.
“Thank, Carlo, I owe you.” Blair smiled as he hung up his cell. “He’s got one of the special suites free, Jim,” Blair commented as he ignored Tony’s whimper. “Pure cotton sheets, merino wool blankets, no fragrances, and a Jacuzzi.”
“I could always drop Jim and Blair off,” Ducky offered thinking that this might be an opportune moment to have a private word with both men.” I’ve got to go past the Westin anyway,” Ducky said blandly, continuing with the lie.
“Jim?” Blair, happy enough to leave the decision up to his partner, missed the look of incredulity that quickly flashed across Gibbs’ face.
Jim, happy to have a reasonable pretext for getting Blair and Dr. Mallard somewhere private quickly agreed to the scheme while he, too, ignored the old-fashioned look that Gibbs was directing at NCIS’s Medical Examiner.
“I’ll let the gatehouse know you’re picking up your bags on the way out, then.” Gibbs wasn’t happy that no-one was explaining what was going on in the background but he was already planning on grilling Ducky first thing in the morning. It would be best to get his Cascadian guests on their way; so, with a few curt words Gibbs instructed the gatehouse to be ready to hand over the bags to Doctor Mallard and his guests as they left the yard.
“Back here at 0630 hundred,” Gibbs snapped as he stood up. “DiNozzo, with me,” Gibbs was heading out before anyone had a chance to comment, forcing Tony to run to catch up with him.
“Looks like we’re with you, Ducky,” Blair commented as he did a final sweep of the conference room; checking the searches still running and grabbing up a couple of reams of notes.
“We’ll see you in the morning, Abigail,” Ducky said as he went to lead Jim and Blair out towards the elevator. When Abby didn’t answer, Ducky looked to see the forensic scientist still staring out the door after Tony DiNozzo, “Abby?”
“Did Bossman just invite Detective DiNozzo back to his place?”
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Ducky smiled.
“Awesome.” Abby started dancing around the conference room.
“Go home Abby. You can grill Gibbs in the morning, if you are feeling brave enough.”
“Okay, Duckman. See you all in the morning.” Abby continued to bounce out of the conference room.
“Is she always like that?” Jim asked.
“Sometimes she’s worse,” Ducky answered with a smile.
“Chief,” this was addressed to Blair, “I’m getting too old to keep up with energizer bunnies.”
“Don’t worry, Jim. A good night will see you right as rain.” Blair smiled lecherously telegraphing just what he meant by a good night.
& & & & & & & & & & & &
“Wow,” Blair’s face lit up - almost enough to light the night sky - as he got his first look at Doctor Mallard’s vehicle; a Morgan plus 4 roadster in immaculate condition.
Jim, climbing into the front passenger seat, had to agree. “Nice vehicle you’ve got here, doc.”
“At my age one should, occasionally, allow oneself a little vicarious pleasure,” Ducky was more than pleased at the reaction to his pride and joy, even more so given the source. “I used to love driving the roads around Monte Carlo and the Swiss Alps in my youth. Even England has more than a few good driving roads.”
“And let me guess, you’d happily hit the roads again?” Blair was smiling as he imagined letting the roadster hit its straps.
“All I need is a couple of travelling companions,” Ducky was also caught up in imagining letting his Morgan have her head; maybe with Jim and Blair riding along. “Still, it’s getting late gentlemen, how about we get you both settled?”
“Let’s,” Blair agreed with a yawn. “I used to be able to work 30 hours straight,” he groused.
“That was last week,” Jim teased.
Easing the Morgan out of its parking spot Ducky had to admit, even if only to himself, that the two men riding with him were a pleasure to observe. A quick stop at the Yard’s gate had three cases loaded in to the trunk; nothing exploded but Blair supervised the loading of the smallest case as though one wrong move and all hell would break loose.
“So, what’s in that case, young man?” Ducky asked as he drove out onto Marine Ave heading for 12th Street.
“Just a few tools of the trade,” Blair evaded while he concentrated on Jim’s shoulders; shoulders that were obviously tensing up. “You all right there, Jim?” The question was asked in a mild voice which fooled no-one.
Ducky cast a quick glance to his right and noticed that his front seat passenger did look a little uncomfortable. “I think I’d better have another look at you, Detective Ellison,” Ducky commented, thinking that the apparent distress of the older detective was a convenient reason to accompany both men into the hotel.
Jim, normally the first to shrug off any suggestion that he might need medical assistance, agreed with doctor Mallard so readily that Blair nearly fainted in the back seat.
Skilfully navigating the one-way street system around the Westin Grand, Ducky pulled into the parking area in front of the hotel. Before he’d even had a chance to cut the engine, 2 elegantly dressed bell-hops approached, trolley car, large enough to hold the entire Loui Vuitton range, in tow.
Blair, climbing out after Jim, started to giggle as he took in the sight at the trunk of Ducky’s Morgan. “If I packed everything I’d owned when I lived under the stairs at the loft, I still wouldn’t have been able to fill that thing,” the stage whisper carried to the Concierge who was following along behind the Bell-hops.
“Somehow that does not suprise me, Dr Sandburg, I suspect you’d always have trouble filling one of my trolleys,” Carlo grinned as he stepped forward to shake Blair’s hand.
“Carlo,” Blair glared at one of his Mother’s oldest friends.
“I’m on duty,” Carlo would not now, nor ever, embarrass the hotel by being anything less than completely professional even when dealing with someone whose nappies he’d once changed.
“Fine,” Blair acquiesced to the unspoken request. “Carlo, thanks for letting us use the clean suite.”
“Don’t thank me, Dr Sandburg. The FBI rang and requested we hold a room for you,” Carlo smiled at Blair’s slightly pole-axed look. “Dr Gideon presumed you’d call here first when looking for accommodation.”
“Getting predictable in your old age, Chief?” Jim happily joined the conversation, his headache momentarily forgotten. “What next, grey hairs?”
“At least I’ve still got my hair,” Blair shot back giving as good as he got. “Where are my manners anyway?” Blair sighed.
“You’ve got them?” Jim sallied back but quickly shut up when Blair directed a look that promised retribution.
“Carlo, you remember my partner, Detective Jim Ellison?”
“Detective Ellison, it is good to meet you again,” Carlo acknowledged Jim before he turned to face Doctor Mallard. “Ducky?” Carlo blinked twice as he looked the NCIS Medical Examiner up and down. “Duck? So you finally tracked the scamp down? Good on you,” Carlo then ignored all protocol and pulled Doctor Mallard into a bone crushing hug.
Blair, who’d been about to introduce the NCIS ME, was well and truly caught by surprise; after all, Carlo, who’d changed Blair’s nappies more than once still steadfastly refused to use the familiar forms of address when in professional mode was suddenly all over Doctor Mallard like white on rice.
“Carlo? Carlo Romena?” Ducky returned the hug ten-fold. “My god, I haven’t seen you since that episode with the Contessa, what is it?”
“Twenty-five years,” Carlo answered before Ducky had even finished the question, which proved to be an ill advised move as it gave Ducky time to reflect on just what Carlo had said in greeting.
“You knew?” The look Ducky sent Carlo’s way would have done Gibbs proud.
“Perhaps we could take this somewhere a little more private?” Jim interjected having picked up on the underlying topic.
Carlo, no fool, suddenly regretted his outburst. “Come, I will show you to your room, personally.”
“Jim?” Blair looked up at his partner with wide eyed worry. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing bad, babe,” Jim tried to reassure Blair but, judging by the staccato beat of Blair’s heart that he could hear, failing miserably.
“But something is going on, isn’t it?” Blair pressed.
“Wait till we’re in our room, okay?” Jim was actively avoiding looking into Blair’s eyes.
Seeing the set of Jim’s shoulders and taking into account the fact that Jim had indicated he would be explaining, Blair turned to Carlo, “Lead the way, Carol. Umm, Carlo...” Jim stifled a nervous laugh.
Carlo signalled the bell-hop to follow with the luggage, such that it was, before he walked into the lobby of his pride and joy. Carlo had been approached all of DC’s top hotels, offers of up to three times his current salary being tabled as inducements, but he loved the Westin and could not be bought for mere money. Walking into the lobby, with its white marble floor, plush woollen carpets, dark oak desks and furnishings suited to Millionaire’s row, anyone of taste would be impressed. The high ceiling and lighting added to the impression of a truly comfortable and spacious place.
“Genelle,” Carlo approached the front reception desk, “I’ll need the keys to 615, and, would you check if room 617 is free?”
“We only need the one suite, Carlo,” Blair comments as he came up behind the man.
“I rather thought Donald might prefer a room for the night, as well,” Carlo offered with a nod to Ducky.
“That would be wonderful, Carlo, but I must get home to Mother and the corgis,” Ducky protested, as much for form’s sake as anything else. The night nurse he employed to assist in the care of his aging mother should be able to handle things for the night; even the corgis.
Jim, having failed to pick up on the fact that Ducky was vacillating about the offer, pulled out the big guns. “Doc, might be useful if you spent the night close by,” Ellison grimaced in pain as he shrugged his shoulders, “Gibbs still packs a mean punch.”
“Jim,” Blair looked closely at his partner; the what are you up too clearly heard, though no words were spoken.
Ducky caved under Jim’s request. If nothing else, a spare suite to retire to might be advantageous if there was any metaphorical blood spilt tonight. “Carlo, that would be acceptable. Could you organise...”
“Parking? But, of course.” An insistent flurry of hand signals produced a valet to take Ducky’s keys whilst reception handed over another room pass. “This way, gentlemen,” Carlo led the eclectic group towards the elevator.
“Hey, Carlo, I’ll take the stairs, if you don’t mind?” Blair didn’t even wait for a reply but was fast moving towards the stairs when Jim caught up with him.
Ducky turned to look at Carlo, a raised eyebrow indicating he wanted to know if Carlo knew what that was all about.
“Blair got caught in an elevator once,” Carlo started explaining. “Seemed someone was trying to rip a lot of cash out of a vault in the building.”
“And?” the explanation was, after all as clear as mud.
“And, the criminal was threatening to drop the elevator 40 odd floors. To prove it, the criminal, calling himself Galileo, dropped the elevator car 10 floors, at least twice. Blair has been a little wary of them ever since. He’ll use one, but only if he’s exhausted. Worried the building manager here no end; high-powered guest refusing to use the lift.”
“So, that’s how you know the tale?” Ducky was initially put out, quite a bit, in fact, that Carlo seemed to know more about his son than he did.
“I was there when he explained it, which is the only reason I know the story,” Carlo was a student of human nature, after all, and had picked up on Ducky’s annoyance.
“I take it he doesn’t know?” Carlo asked as both men stepped into the lift.
No need to ask who he was. “I didn’t even know until this afternoon,” Ducky was not a particularly happy man. “Then to find out that you seem to have known for a very long time?” Ducky gave his long-time friend a meaningful;look.
“I was asked not to tell you, back then,” Carlo, at least, had the grace to look mildly ashamed. “I gave my word.” He gave Ducky a fierce, reassuring hug.
“And our word always was your bond,” Ducky sighed, accepting the inevitable.
“Losing track of you all those years ago didn’t help, Donald.”
“Well, how about you fill me in on what little else you might now?” Ducky invited, pointedly.
Ding.
“Saved by the bell, Carlo,” Ducky was more amused than anything that the lift door opened onto the 6th floor before Carlo could share any other secrets. “We’ll talk later, maybe?”
“Later,” The two men walked towards the stair well and listened while gentle bickering back and forth could be heard echoing up the stairwell. “Jim does love Blair, I hope you realise, Duck,” Carlo commented into a moment of silence.
“I’m not a complete idiot, Carlo.”
“Of course not,” was all Carlo had time to say as the men that he and Ducky were discussing appeared on the landing below, “The lift is faster, you know,” Carlo teased Blair.
“But I can’t fall as far,” Blair sassed back.
“You can still break your neck, Chief.”
“Not with my buff toy-boy there to catch me,” Blair let loose with a blinding smile as he raced passed Ellison, reaching the 6th floor ahead of his friend. “Now who’s got what room, Carlo?”
& & & & & & & & &
“Well,” Blair was sitting comfortably on a plush love seat, apparently totally relaxed though looks could be deceiving, “is anyone going to talk about the elephant in the room? Or am I just going to have to use my imagination?”
“It’s about today’s zones,” Jim, knowing of old the sheer power of Blair’s imagination grabbed the metaphorical bull elephant by the tusks, “I think I know what caused at least two of them and it’s not quite what you were thinking.”
“Only two?” Blair cocked his head to the side as he considered the zones of the day: zone one, cause probably related to something at the crime scene; zone two was probably a result of slipping back out of Shaman space, for want of a better phrase; zone three happened while Jim was assisting forensics, so did zone four for that matter. “So, it’s not your control slipping?” To top everything off, Blair wasn’t exactly happy that Jim was speaking out of turn, as it were; a quick flick of his eyes to Carlo and an interrogative eyebrow was all Blair said on the matter, though.
Carlo, noticing the eye movement, had the grace to blush. “I could leave if you prefer, gentlemen? Though I don’t think Jim’s sensitivities are the issue right at the moment.”
A shoulder shrug and hands out, palms up, in a classical asking manner, was Blair’s reply. Blair had no idea what was going on, but was really starting to worry. Carlo as a friendly face might be just what the doctor, pun intended, needed.
“Carlo knows part of it,” Ducky said with more than a little bite.
“Jim? I’m tired man and you are all starting to freak me out a little here.”
“Ducky smells like you.”
“What?” Normally Blair was five to ten steps ahead of the conversation, normally, but Jim’s non sequitur total threw him.
“Ducky smells like you.” Jim didn’t growl but it was a close thing.
“How close?”
“Naomi close,” Jim answered obliquely; not that it mattered, Blair understood the message. When Blair didn’t say anything, anything at all, Jim stepped forwards but was warded off by his partner; his very silent partner.
Seconds ticked by as Blair sat, processing.
When the seconds turned into minutes, however, Jim took steps. “Blair, Ducky smells guide close.”
It was the word Guide that pulled Blair out of his funk. “You knew?” Blair turned and levelled his own version of the mess with me and you’re toast stare at Carlo. “How long have you known, Carlo? How long?”
“I gave Naomi my word, Blair. I gave her my word at a time when my word was the only thing I had.” Carlo ignored the other men in the room and approached Blair, kneeling on the carpet and placing his hands, in supplication, on Blair’s knee.
“So, you’ve always known?”
“Yes, Blair, I’ve always known.” Carlo had to smile as he watched the anger and frustrations bleed out of Blair’s countenance. “But I didn’t know that Ducky was living in Washington; that I swear.”
“Let me guess, if you had known you’d have found a way to get Doctor Mallard and I to cross paths before now?”
“I’m sure your friend,” and at this comment Carlo nodded his head toward Jim, “would have smelled the relationship. Detective Ellison does, after all, have a very good nose.”
“Doctor Mallard,” Blair looked up suddenly, “did you know?”
“Not until today, my dear boy,” Ducky blushed a bright scarlet as the colloquial reply dropped off his lips. “My dear boy?” A note of apprehension colored Ducky’s question even as the elder man opened his arms in welcome.
Jim watched, a grin a mile wide on his face, as Blair, who had just been complaining about being tired, shot out of the loveseat and into Ducky’s embrace; almost bowling the man over.
“Jim, I’ve got a dad.” The Sandburg special 1000 watt (patent-pending) smile did a good job of lighting up the room. If the curtains hadn’t been drawn the smile would have lit up most of Washington.
“So it seems, Chief.” Fond indulgence and the sinking feeling that sleep wasn’t going to happen tonight warred in Jim’s breast; indulgence won, hands down.
“I think this is my cue to leave,” Carlo whispered to Jim as he, also, looked on at the old pair with fond indulgence. “Tell Blair I will speak with him in the morning, please.”
“I will,” Jim took the two sets of key-cards Carlo handed him, “I take it the other keys are for Doctor Mallard?”
“Yes, for the suite next door if he needs it.”
“I’m not so sure he will,” Jim allowed.
“Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Blair asked as Carlo headed for the door, “and where are you going, Carlo?”
“Back to my desk, Blair, and I was just giving Jim the keys. Some of us have do to work, after all.”
“Yes, Blair, and some of us have to work in the morning,” Ducky commented. “I’m not as young as I used to be. But, as Carlo has so kindly supplied me with a room to bed down in, how about we all meet for breakfast?” Ducky invited as he watched Blair’s face fall at the idea he might be leaving. “I’ll be next door, after all.”
Blair tightened the embrace before he nodded, once, and stepped away.
“However, I’ll have a last look at you, Detective.” Ducky was already heading towards Jim with purposeful stride very similar to Blair’s.
“Two of them,” Jim grumbled. “Now I’ve got two of them.”
“Yes, Detective, I believe you have. Now sit.”
Jim sat.
Blair didn’t even try to hide his amusement though the last laugh was on Jim as Blair actually collapsed to the floor because he was laughing so hard.
“Laugh it up, wonder-boy, you’ll get yours in the end.”
“Oooooh, promises.” Blair grinned evilly, “and it’s not me who’s going to be getting it in the end.”
“Gentlemen, please, a little decorum.” Ducky scolded both men but he was smiling so much that the scold had no impact. “You, Detective seem fit enough for most activities though I’d advise against running...”
“He won’t be running anywhere.” Blair interrupted.
“I was going to say running after any criminals, Blair,” Ducky rolled his eyes. “On that note I think I shall seek my bed and I suggest that you gentlemen do the same.
“Hey, doctor’s orders,” Blair picked himself up off the carpet and literally danced towards the bedroom. “I’ve never had doctor’s orders to take Jim to bed.”
“Are you trying to get me killed, here, Ducky?”
“Would it be such a bad way to go?” Ducky whispered as he left suite knowing that Jim would hear him. Today, well yesterday, had been a very good day.
& & & & & & & & & & &
Jim walked into the master suite in time to see Blair digging out a few, very select, items from his special go bag. Just the thought of what Blair was probably planning had him hardening. “Chief,” Jim’s voice was already husky with desire, “what are you up to?”
“Oooh, about six inches,” Blair quipped back as he turned and slide a disc into the CD player that formed part of the entertainment unit of the bedroom. Peruvian drums and jungle sounds, deep and low, vibrated throughout the room. “Relax, Jim, let me care for you.” Blair’s voice had lost the teasing quality it held a moment ago; now it was deep throated, coming as it was, from the base of Blair’s lungs.
“Blair,” Jim let loose the focused control he normally held over his senses, trusting that Blair would let him fly but catch him long before he fell.
Banked lust assaulted Jim’s nasal passages as the pheromones poured from Blair’s pores; ginger scented with a hint of green tea, earthy, pungent and laced with pure sex.
Jim’s ears were treated to drums, both those held by shaman hands deep in the forests of Peru and the deep, regular beat of Blair’s heat in counter point. The gentle pulse of ebb and flow as blood pumped throughout his guide’s body sounding a sweet thrum.
Sight was being treated to soft hues of umber, of flickering shadow, of bright coronas as Blair lit beeswax candles, before turning the incandescent lights off. Sound was given an extra treat as Blair slid cloth from shoulder, hip and thigh. Naked, his penis jutted forward like a standard, Blair walked toward Jim. “Come, my love, follow me.”
Jim happily took the outstretched hand and allowed Blair to lead him, as they walked side by side, closer to the bed. Blair finally turned Jim so that he was standing with his thighs backed up against the high side of the king sized bed. Without uttering a word, Blair began to strip Jim of his clothes before he encouraged the man to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I know you, Jim.” Blair kissed the very crown of Jim’s head, once, twice, five times; each kiss, a whisper of power as Blair acknowledged all Jim was to him, “Sentinel.” Kiss. “Man.” Kiss. “Shield.” Kiss. “Lover.” Kiss. “Foundation.” Kiss.
“You know me,” Jim whispered as his senses felt Blair mark him.
“I see you, Jim.” Blair lowered his mouth to kiss and caress each of Jim’s eyelids before moving his focus to the bridge between the eyes. Here, Blair began to suckle gently, marking Jim.
“You see me,” Jim drowsily replied as he began to sink into the loving grounding ceremony that Blair was acting out upon his willing flesh.
“I taste you, Jim.” The words the shortest warning before Blair moved to plunder Jim’s mouth.
Jim, sinking in the bliss that was his partner, opened up like a petal in bloom to Blair’s tongue; the kiss was anything but chaste. With slow, deliberate thrusts, Blair made love to Jim’s mouth; his tongue gliding across the top palette; dancing around Jim’s tongue, engaging in a battle for dominance before switching to submission. As their mouths moved together, each man trying to climb into the others body, their hands in synchronicity rose to grasp the others head trying to pull faces closer. Only when a lack of air became dangerous did they part, panting.
“You taste me,” Jim sighed contently.
Blair eased back a little to enjoy the view of a thoroughly kissed Jim. “I’m going to do more than taste you,” Blair smiled.
Jim’s only coherent thought at that was if he could bottle that tone of voice he’d never have to work again. Add the fact that Blair, his hair also thoroughly mussed, still looked like an angel imagined by Botticelli, and weaker men would fall. The sight of Blair nibbling his way down the long line of Jim’s neck would tempt even the Lord God to sin. Hands ghosting over Jim’s back acting as a counter point to the nips, some gently, some not, as Blair kissed his was towards Jim’s right nipple.
Like his penis, Jim’s nipples were taut and erect, begging for attention. Blair, ever one to please, obliged. Blair’s tongue danced circles around the aureole before his teeth settled in to worry at the nipple. Sucking deep, his cheeks hollowing as he did so, Blair drew as much of Jim’s breast into his mouth as he could. Letting the suction fall away, Blair bit Jim’s nipple, drawing a small amount of blood, which he drank down, before moving to Jim’s left nipple for a repeat performance.
As Jim arched into the pain and pleasure, Blair used his own weight to force Jim backward until Jim was lying down, his knees bent over the bed’s edge. “You are my strength,” Blair undulated up Jim’s body to claim another deep kiss.
“Strength,” Jim only just managed to ground the word out as he drowned in the sensation of Blair’s chest hairs as they passed over his bare chest.
Pressing forward, Blair allowed his whole body to drape over Jim’s momentarily. The feel of skin on skin; hardness against hardness was intoxicating.
Jim’ the stronger of the two, tried to push up into Blair’s weight, to feel Blair’s erect cock against his.
“Not yet,” Blair lifted himself away from Jim, “not yet.”
When Jim moaned in need Blair smiled wickedly.
“Please,” Jim tried begging even though he knew it would not work.
Rather than answer, Blair bent forward and began to tongue fuck Jim’s belly button. “Soon, I’ll be doing this to you, Jim. Do you want me, too?”
“Please,” Jim arched his back opening up his abdominal line making it easier for Blair to bury his tongue into that point that joined humanity all the way back to the dawn of time. “Please, fuck me, babe.”
“Not yet,” Blair left torturing Jim’s middle and began to kiss down the line of fine hair between navel and public crest. “You smell so hot,” a soft breath caressed Jim’s cock as Blair positioned his head so that it was cradled in the V between pubic mound and erect cock. Gently shaking his head, whilst he sucked at the junction below his mouth, allowed Blair to tease Jim on two fronts; suction at the base of his cock and the feel of cheek, and hair, against the erect member.
After what felt like hours, but in truth had been but moments, Blair eased away and clamped his hand firmly around the base of Jim’s cock. “No coming yet,” Blair warned.
Stepping back, Blair looked down at his handy work and smiled. Jim was laid out before him like a rich feast, finally ready to be enjoyed to the fullest. Knowing that once he began again he would not stop until both men had reached their climax, Blair quickly placed an ultra thin condom over his own hard shaft. The condoms were special order, thin, open at both ends, made to protect fragile tissues from damage rather than prevent contraception. “Ready?” Blair asked.
“More than ready,” Jim sighed and allowed his thighs to spread wider granting easy access to his puckered anus. “Fill me, please fill me.”
Accepting the invitation, Blair knelt down and began to lick at Jim’s opening. Each lick slightly firmer than the one preceding it until Blair’s tongue began to breach the outer ring of muscle. Jim reached down and grabbed Blair’s head trying to pull him closer. As Blair’s tongue continued to work its magic Blair slipped one, then two, then three fingers into Jim’s anus, thrusting, scissoring, and loosening up the passage.
Easing his mouth away, Blair allowed Jim another short respite. Said respite was short lived however as Blair swallowed Jim’s penis; deep throating him like there was no tomorrow.
Jim groaned as the head of his penis hit the back of Blair’s throat. Jim screamed as Blair’s cheeks hollowed out applying suction worthy of a 1000 Horse power hoover. Jim almost blacked out as he came; shooting his essence deep into Blair’s throat. Blair didn’t miss a beat, swallowing all that Jim offered. Only when the last spasm had faded did Blair let Jim’s penis slip from his mouth though his fingers remained buried deep in Jim’s back passage.
“Mine,” Blair smirked as he looked at Jim, boneless, slumped onto the bed.
“Yours,” Jim answered, “now finish it.”
That was all the invitation Blair needed. Pulling his fingers free of Jim’s body Blair lifted, and parted, Jim’s legs allowing him to step close into the bed. With Jim’s legs draped over his shoulders Blair thrust forward, his cock plunging deep into Jim, and nailing Jim’s prostate.
Standing still, Blair watched as Jim adjusted to the greater girth that invaded his body. The instant Jim relaxed around the invasion, Blair began pound into his partner; the thrusts in time with the jungle drums that still played in the background.
Deeper.
Harder.
Faster.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jim kept crying as Blair hit his prostate again and again and again.
“Jim, Jim, Jim, Jiiimmmmmmmmmmm,” Blair screamed as the orgasms tore through him.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” Jim was a counter plea.
Sweaty, panting, slaked, the two men collapsed into blissful sleep.