Fic: Time to Find You (Sentinel)
I agreed to write 5k words of Sentinel fic for ponders_life in exchange for her generous donation to fire_fic. She's been very patient with me, and this is only my second foray into the fandom, but here it finally is.
ponders_life's request: Set the story in 2008 (or at least a few years after TSbyBS). Take a guest star character and have him/her/them cross paths with Jim and Blair again. Jim and Blair separated after rift, third party is catalyst for reunion. Must end on an upbeat/hopeful note.
5600 words, R. Incredible thanks to janedavitt for the vital advice and the beta.
Time to Find You
by WesleysGirl
It had been more than three years since Jim Ellison had seen Blair Sandburg.
Life was so fucked-up sometimes; fucked-up and confusing, and Jim had never quite managed to convince himself that he was where he wanted to be, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't help but blame Naomi for the way things had ended up, even though he knew deep down that she'd been trying to do the right thing. Or what she thought was the right thing. Too bad she'd had no clue.
Now he was in L.A., playing private bodyguard to Alec Summers, boy wonder and a multi-millionaire at the tender age of twenty. Jim hated L.A., but when Blair had left Cascade without listening to a word Jim'd had to say on the matter, Washington had lost its appeal, too. The loft was too quiet without Sandburg, Jim's bed too big and empty, and gradually the idea that things would get better had stopped being something he could believe in. He'd quit the force, deaf to Simon's pleas, and moved south, chasing warmer, sunnier weather.
He'd done the security guard thing for about a year, being assigned to Hollywood actors and directors, waiting to see if something more permanent would come along. When it did, in the form of Alec Summers, he jumped at the chance to settle down.
Alec had a huge estate in Santa Monica. The main house had nine bedrooms and ten bathrooms, and the entire property was a little more than two acres. Jim lived in one of two guest houses -- the one behind the pool cabana, which worked out well for him because it meant he could sneak the occasional middle of the night swim without bothering anyone.
The problem was, he was finding it hard to sleep these days. The estate was pretty quiet when Alec wasn't having one of his glitzy Hollywood parties -- too quiet. Maybe that was why it was becoming commonplace for Jim to find himself still awake at two or three a.m., staring up at his ceiling with a prickle of sweat beading at his hip and hairline, sheets kicked to the foot of the bed. Like tonight, for instance.
He sighed and got up, pulling on a pair of shorts without bothering with underwear. He padded, barefoot and almost silent, through the guest house and out onto the lawn. The lush grass was damp under his feet as he made a quick check of the grounds, verifying that the front gate was locked and that everything was as it should be. It wasn't like Alec didn't have good reason to be paranoid -- he was one of the richest eligible bachelors in the country, and some of the business deals that had built his fortune had also made him enemies. Jim was there to make sure he stayed safe.
With the moon high overhead, Jim pushed his shorts down and slipped into the pool. He never dove at night -- he preferred to swim naked and didn't want to chance waking Alec, whose bedroom overlooked the swimming pool. The water was warm like always -- spoiled Hollywood residents heated their pools even in the summertime -- so it wasn't as refreshing as it might have been, but swimming forty or fifty laps helped relax him, helped him sleep. When he'd worn himself out, he floated on his back, eyes open, until he started to get sleepy.
Then he pulled himself out of the pool and went back to bed.
The alarm woke him at seven a.m.. He took a shower and got dressed, then walked over to the house and let himself into the kitchen, where Ana, the housekeeper, was slicing fresh fruit for a fruit salad. The citrus juice smelled tart and sweet at the same time and made Jim's mouth water. "Morning, Ana."
"Good morning." Ana smiled at him and gestured at the counter top behind her. "There's coffee."
Coffee was the first thing he had every morning, and they both knew it, but it was part of the ritual, like having a conversation with someone without actually needing to pay attention. It was comfortable; Jim liked it in the same way he liked Ana's coffee.
"Is Alec up?" Jim asked, wrapping a hand around his mug and letting the heat of it seep into his skin.
Ana nodded. "He's in the exercise room."
The gym was in the basement. There was a TV mounted to the wall -- Alec had stopped with the roller-blading years ago and now only ran because Jim insisted that he stay in shape, and the TV helped distract him. If left to his own devices, the kid figured his bank account would be all he needed to attract women, and he wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be capable of sprinting a reasonable distance. Some day he might need to, if someone came after him.
"Two miles," Alec huffed, out of breath on the treadmill. "Stocks are up."
Jim glanced at the TV, which as usual was set to some finance channel that alternated between reporting on the stock market and interviews with financial experts. "Good."
"Two," Alec said, "and a half. Right?"
"Right." They'd just upped the distance Alec ran five mornings a week the day before, from two miles, and Alec's face was flushed with effort.
Jim hung around until Alec shut off the treadmill and went to take a shower, just to make sure the kid wasn't going to slack, then went back upstairs for breakfast. Alec joined him ten minutes later, hair slicked back and a towel still draped around his neck. "Meetings today," he said. "Downtown, and then a cocktail party here at five."
"Right," Jim said. Alec always gave him a schedule at the beginning of the week, so there weren't a lot of surprises, and even when there were he could handle them. "Formal dress?" Never hurt to double-check. He pushed a few chunks of fruit around with his fork.
"Uh-huh." Alec gave him a funny look as he spread cream cheese on half a bagel. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jim said, but he dropped his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Been having a hard time sleeping."
Alec nodded. "I wondered. The bags under your eyes have bags. So what's going on?"
He'd thought he was doing a better job of hiding it. "Nothing. Just a touch of insomnia. It'll pass."
"Look, if you need some time off, I'm sure one of the other guys could cover for you," Alec said around a mouthful of food. "Benny or Mike, maybe."
"No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it." The 'other guys' were part-timers who covered Jim's occasional day off or backed him up when there was some kind of public event. They were good enough at their jobs, but Jim didn't trust them to be as conscientious as he was.
"Maybe you should take a vacation," Alec suggested. "You haven't taken more than a day off at a time since you got here." He hesitated, then added, "If it's the money..."
"It doesn't have anything to do with money," Jim told him honestly. Not only did Alec pay him a generous salary, but he had no expenses to speak of other than the maintenance and insurance on his F-150. "I like the work." He offered Alec a grin that was only slightly forced. "Besides, I'd hate to miss any of your fancy soirées. When else am I gonna have the chance to meet Fiona Apple?"
"She's not coming tonight, she's on tour," Alec said airily. He was apparently willing to drop the other topic. "My cousin is, though, or at least she said she was going to try to drop by -- she's in town for a couple of days."
Jim stabbed the last wedge of orange with his fork and ate it. "Alone?"
"I don't know. She said something about meeting up with some friends, but I'm sure they're cool." That was Alec's way of saying they wouldn't have any interest in causing him personal physical harm; he could be surprisingly naive about some things, but it'd be okay. Jim would keep an eye on them.
Alec's meetings downtown were in a couple of different office buildings, so Jim's day pretty much consisted of standing in the background. He'd perfected the art of adjusting his senses so he could tune out whatever was being said while still being hyperaware of sounds outside the room, people's movements, and a few key words that would snap his attention back to the conversation at hand. Today, though, he was finding it harder than usual to do the fine-tuning he'd thought had become second nature.
Maybe it was the insomnia.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Alec asked as they got back into the car.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jim said. It bugged him that Alec was able to read him so well. It'd been a while since he'd let anyone get close, and Blair... well, the way things had ended with Sandburg ought to have taught him to keep his distance. "So how're things with the Lewis deal?"
"Weren't you listening? It's great. We're probably going to close in the next couple of weeks --" Alec was off and running. Good thing he was so easy to distract -- once Jim got him talking business, he'd go on for an hour with little more required from Jim than the occasional murmur of agreement.
Jim had time for a quick shower before the cocktail party. He scrubbed the water from his hair, which he still kept short, and put on his tux; everyone else at the party would be wearing one, and it helped him blend in if he looked like part of the crowd.
He snagged himself a couple of mini-tartlets and a glass of sparkling water and parked himself in the marble-floored, high-ceilinged foyer. The wait staff and coat check girls were regulars, provided by a local company. Jim did background checks and interviewed all of them before they were allowed on the premises. Most of them gave him nervous smiles but didn't try to talk to him.
From his vantage point near the stairs, he could make visual contact with people as they came in -- until Mike arrived and took over that duty. Then Jim was free to work the party. He kept to the perimeter of the rooms mostly, not letting his guard down even though months of functions like this one had never resulted in a single incident.
It didn't pay to relax.
About an hour and fifteen minutes in, Alec led a small, blonde woman in her mid-twenties over to Jim and introduced them. "Buffy, this is Jim Ellison. Jim, this is my cousin Buffy Summers."
"Nice to meet you," Jim said automatically, taking the hand that she offered him. For a slight thing, she had a hell of a grip.
"You, too," Buffy said. She had a glass of champagne in her other hand and was wearing a form-hugging dress that didn't leave much to the imagination.
"Oh, there's Kimber," Alec said, gesturing at the stunning redhead who'd just come into the room. "Excuse me for a minute? I'll be right back."
Buffy gave Jim a sidelong look while taking a sip of champagne. "So, you've been around a while, I take it?"
"Why do you say that?" Jim asked.
"Oh, you know." Buffy stepped closer to the wall, standing next to Jim so she wasn't blocking his view anymore. It was like she did it deliberately, too. "Ex-cop?" she asked.
Jim blinked, then gave a short nod. "Yeah."
"I thought so."
"What about you? What do you do?" Jim was more interested in directing the conversation away from himself than he was in whatever her answer might be.
"Um." Buffy took another sip of champagne. "Well, I guess you could say I'm in security, too."
"Really?" He hadn't expected that. "Oh, right. Something with computers." It'd sort of make sense if that talent ran in the family.
"Mmhm." She was lying, though -- he could hear it in her voice. He doubted anyone else would have been able to sense it, but he sure as hell could. Question was, why would she lie about what she did for a living?
On alert now, Jim turned as much of his attention to her as he could without jeopardizing his ability to survey the rest of the room. Buffy tucked her hair back behind her ear and a faint whiff of something familiar drifted toward Jim. What was it? It was earthy, some kind of herb, maybe. Damn, it was so familiar.
"Oh, good, there are my friends now." Buffy raised a hand to some people who'd just come into the room, and the newcomers started toward them. One of them was a young black woman with braided hair and beautiful almond-shaped eyes.
The other, Jim realized with a sense of shock, was Blair Sandburg.
"Rona, this is Jim -- he works for my cousin," Buffy was saying. "And this is Blair, he's been working with Rona on some kind of sociology project --"
"We've met," Jim said shortly, keeping his eyes anywhere but on Blair's face. "Excuse me."
He pushed his way through the crowd, aware that he needed to get it together, and fast. Catching Mike's attention in the foyer, he pointed at his own chest and then jerked his head toward the bathroom. Mike nodded and Jim slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, giving himself two minutes. Two minutes to remember and then forget again.
Blair stretched out naked in Jim's bed, all that glorious skin bared for Jim's eyes and mouth and hands.
All the nights they'd been together, kissing, having sex, staying up until three in the morning talking like stupid, love-struck teenagers.
Those were the parts he needed to forget.
The part that was most important to remember was what had happened afterward, after Naomi had sent Blair's thesis to her friend at Berkshire Publishers and everything had gone to hell. They'd tried to pretend there was a way to salvage things, but Blair's life had been all tied up in that research, and he hadn't been able to keep from resenting that it'd been discredited. And, to be fair, Jim hadn't been able to forgive himself for assuming that it had been Blair and not Naomi who'd been responsible for it ending up on Sid Graham's desk in the first place.
He should have known better. He should have trusted Blair, and he hadn't, and it had gotten all screwed up and fucked-up, and in the end there'd been shouting and Blair storming out of the loft saying he was never coming back, and possibly a boot thrown at the door after Blair had slammed it.
Jim gripped the edges of the bathroom sink so hard that his hands hurt, then took a deep, deliberate breath. Let it out slowly. He splashed a little water on his face, dried it off, and opened the door to find Alec standing on the other side of it wearing a worried expression.
"Jim, I'm so sorry," Alec said. "I swear, I had no idea Buffy's friend was bringing Blair with her. I didn't even know she was the friend that knew Blair."
"Okay," Jim said wearily.
"I didn't even know she was the friend that Buffy was in town to visit," Alec went on. "I would never have --"
"Okay," Jim said, with more emphasis. "Okay, I get it. It was just an unfortunate coincidence." He looked past Alec. Blair was standing at the far end of the foyer, right in the middle of the doorway, totally oblivious to the people who were trying to walk around him. Their eyes met, and Jim's gut twisted so suddenly he thought he might be sick.
"Look, I can explain to Buffy..." Alec stopped talking when Jim stepped around him and headed across the floor toward Blair, who looked happy and scared and confused, but who didn't move, not even when Jim reached him.
"Hi, Chief."
"Hi, Jim." Blair was nervous.
"You look good."
"Thanks. So do you. I... well, I forgot how you look in a tux."
Jim nodded. "It's been a long time." Thirty-eight months, in fact, not that he'd been counting. "How've you been?" God, he sounded like an idiot. How've you been? That was the best he could do for the man who'd been his partner in every way that mattered?
Shifting to the left as someone pushed past them, Blair said, "Okay. Good, actually. Busy. Turns out there's this --" He was ready to babble on about something, Jim could tell by the way his eyes lit up, but he cut himself off abruptly like he'd just remembered Jim wasn't the one to do that with. "Um, anyway, I'm good. What about you?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Jim tried to think. "I'm working. Right now, I mean."
"Uh-huh. I didn't know you were. Working for Alec. I talked to him about a year ago and he never mentioned it." Blair sounded at least a little bit annoyed at that; somehow, it made Jim feel better.
"I hadn't been here very long at that point," he said. Plus Alec knew what had gone down between them -- the kid had probably figured, rightly, that his chances of keeping Jim as an employee would go way down if he started handing information back and forth. He glanced around for Alec, whom he should have been keeping in his sights the whole time, and saw him standing near the front door talking to Mike.
Blair fidgeted, drawing his attention again. "You're not a cop anymore."
"Nah." It wasn't the same without you. "Thought I'd try something new."
"Yeah, well," Blair said. "I'm sure Alec appreciates having someone as experienced as you working for him."
"Even when I'm barely managing it?" Jim asked as Alec joined them. "Look, I'm sorry about this," he told Alec, but Alec just waved the apology away.
"Mike's got everything under control," Alec said. "Benny'll be over in ten minutes. I'm officially giving you the night off."
Jim looked at Blair, whose lips were pressed thin. "Really, you don't have to--"
"You're off duty," Alec said firmly. "Go away. Unless you've suddenly developed a taste for this kind of thing." He gestured at the finely dressed people around them and Jim shook his head.
"Not really, no, but..."
"Jim," Blair said, and Jim's eyes went right to his again like an object obeying gravity. "If... if you want to talk -- I'd be into that, man. I'd like that." Jim's chest felt tight. He nodded, and Blair said, "Just let me tell Rona I'm going so she doesn't wonder what happened to me."
Alec patted Jim's shoulder as they watched Blair go back over to Buffy and Rona. "Look, Jim --"
"Just don't," Jim told him, suddenly weary. "Whatever it is you're going to say, don't. Just let me deal with this on my own."
They went upstairs to Alec's sitting room, which had some leather sofas and a brick fireplace that it was usually too hot to actually use. Jim had considered -- briefly -- the possibility of going to his apartment, but the thought of it, of having Blair in the place where he slept and dressed and jerked off, was a little too much.
Blair stood near the desk.
"You want to sit down?" Jim asked.
"I don't think so." Blair smiled apologetically. "I'm kind of wired. I wasn't expecting to see you."
You could have, Jim thought. Any time. "So," he said instead. "Are you and Rona...?"
Blair looked confused, then startled as he realized what Jim was asking. "What? No. No, no, no. We're just friends. Well, co-workers, really, but friends, too."
"Oh." He wasn't sure what to say after that. He knew what he should say, but when he opened his mouth, so did Blair, and they ended up saying it together. "I'm sorry, Chief --"
"Jim, I'm sorry --"
They both stopped.
"I shouldn't have walked out on you the way I did," Blair said earnestly. "There were problems, yeah, but I should have stuck around, made more of an effort to work them out."
"No, I don't blame you," Jim told him. "It was my fault. You had every right to be angry; I should have had more faith in you. I never should have let myself believe that you'd sell me out."
Blair swallowed and looked down. Light from the setting sun was streaming, golden, in through the windows, illuminating the wispy edges of his hair.
"What?" Jim said, when Blair didn't say anything.
Raising his eyes, Blair looked at him steadily. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."
"Well, I can be kind of pigheaded sometimes," Jim said. There was a little flare of warmth like hope in his chest. "It can take me a while to come around."
"I loved you, man," Blair said. His gaze didn't waver, but his voice was shaky. "I never would have done anything to hurt you, never."
"What about now?" Jim asked, even though he knew he shouldn't.
Blair shook his head. "I still wouldn't." Jim cleared his throat and wet suddenly dry lips; that wasn't what he'd been asking. Blair must have seen it on his face, because he said, "Now? Now, I -- it's been a long time, Jim."
"Right," Jim said quickly. "Right, and knowing you, you've been busy with some project or other." Evade, change the subject, anything to keep from having to hear that Blair's feelings for him were long dead.
"Yeah, actually, I have." Blair lit up. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you. Well, come to think of it, maybe you would, considering what you've been through and the things you've seen."
"So tell me," Jim said, meaning it as a genuine offer.
Blair backed up and leaned against Alec's desk; the position pulled his slacks tight against his thighs, and Jim had to force himself to focus on the fibers of the material as a means of distraction. "Okay, listen to this. Vampires? They're real."
That was a pretty good distraction. It sure as hell got Jim's attention, at least. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. And some of them are, like, the bad guys -- they kill people by drinking their blood! I know!" Blair's hands waved in the air as he talked. "It's crazy, right? That's what I thought, too, at first. But then I met some of them -- the good ones, see, there's this whole subculture of vamps living totally separate from the rest, making new rules, and it's like, I think they're evolving."
"Vampires are evolving."
"Yes! They're making conscious decisions to -- to work against their instincts. Everything in them is screaming at them to kill, but the ones in this group, they're suppressing that and choosing to live on animal blood -- well, okay, it's not really living because technically they're undead, but --"
"Sounds interesting," Jim said. He could remember when Blair used to talk about him and his Sentinel abilities like that.
"It is," Blair said. "I've been with them, learning about them. Of course, I'm in the same position I was with you. It's not like I can write a book about the secret lives of vampires without exposing the ones that deserve to keep their existence nothing more than a... a myth to the rest of society, you know?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah. I know." He tried not to grimace, but was sure he hadn't succeeded when Blair's expression went from animated to guarded. "Look, Chief, do you think -- Is there any chance you might..." Blair waited patiently, studying him, and finally Jim managed, "I miss you."
"Yeah," Blair said. His shoulders were relaxed, but Jim could see the tension in his hands where they rested on his thighs. "I know, man. I miss you, too." He was going to make Jim say it, and really, Jim couldn't blame him for that.
"Do you think... I mean, if you're not seeing anyone. Do you think we could maybe try again?"
Blair smiled. It made his eyes shine and his lips curved into a shape Jim still dreamed about. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think we could." He shifted his weight forward, away from the desk, and took a step in Jim's direction, but Jim held up a hand to stop him, listening. "What?" Blair said.
"I don't know," Jim told him. It wasn't anything in particular, but something was off. "Hang on, it's just --"
The sound of glass breaking downstairs assaulted Jim's ears.
"Stay put," he said to Blair, pulling his gun from its holster and heading for the doorway. But Blair was right behind him as he reached the top of the staircase. People were running out the front door, others screaming. "I told you to stay put!"
Blair shook his head as they started down. "No way."
Some things never change.
There was a woman lying on the floor in the foyer; Jim crouched down to feel for a pulse in her throat and his fingers came away wet with blood. She was dead. Where the hell was Mike? "Call an ambulance," he hissed to Blair, because if people were dying there'd be hurt ones, too. "Stay here." Maybe Blair wouldn't notice she was dead.
"Because that worked so well last time," Blair said, pointing. "Look at her throat! That's what vampires do, Jim."
Another woman stumbled back into the room like someone had hit her. She fell, then whirled to snarl at Jim, and her face... her face was twisted, deformed, her eyes jaundice-yellow. In shock, Jim lost his balance and caught himself with his palm against the floor. Someone screamed in the other room, and the woman -- vampire -- was up and gone in a flash, almost before Jim could blink.
Wow, he thought. Blair hadn't been kidding, had he.
Jim got to his feet and to the doorway, pushing his way past more people who were trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, in time to see Buffy slam what looked like a chair leg into the chest of the female vampire. The vampire froze, then exploded into a shower of dust. Buffy tossed her hair back and grinned at Jim. "Helps to be prepared," she said, and spun to join Rona, who was fighting two more vampires.
It didn't take them long to pop the vampires -- that was what it looked like, like popping a balloon full of ash. The stuff went everywhere, raining down, too heavy to remain suspended in the air.
"Sorry." Buffy looked at Alec, who was over near the wall behind Mike. "I know, I know, we should leave our work at the office."
Alec laughed shakily. "Right. Because clearly I'm so good at that."
Clearing her throat, Rona grabbed Buffy's hand and bowed -- a few seconds later, Buffy caught on and did, too. "Thank you!" Rona said as Alec started to clap. Other people joined in slowly, tentatively, and Jim wondered how many times these young women had had to pull the desired response from a crowd who thought they'd just stepped into a horror movie come to life. "Thank you," Rona said again.
In a low voice -- Jim was sure he was the only other person in the room who could hear it -- Buffy hissed in Rona's ear, "I'll patrol outside and see if there are any more -- you stay here and keep an eye on things."
Rona nodded and said, loudly, "Mr. Summers thought you'd all enjoy something a little unusual tonight. Our manager Blair can give you more information if you'd like to think about hiring us to perform at one of your parties."
Jim turned his head, but Blair wasn't where he'd left him. "Blair?"
"Blair?" Rona echoed a moment later. No response.
Stopping, going still, Jim listened. He filtered out everything else -- voices and other sounds, even faint things like the refrigerator's gentle hum and the ticking of the clock -- and listened for Blair.
The back of Blair's heel hitting a door's threshold as he was dragged, struggling, backward. The muffled sound of Blair's breath against a palm, quick, panicked.
"Upstairs," Jim said tightly, and ran without waiting to see if Rona would follow.
It wasn't hard to find Blair; Jim knew the house so well, and he was focused on every little sound Blair made, no matter how muffled. Stealthily, Jim slunk around the corner to just outside one of the guest rooms, then shoved the door open and held his gun at the man who had an arm wrapped around Blair's throat, his other hand covering Blair's mouth. For a second or two, Jim thought he'd been wrong, that it was just a man, but then the 'man' gave a shake of his head and his face morphed, kind of slid into shape.
Jim's heart was pounding in his chest, and he could hear Blair's wheezy attempts to draw air. "Let go of him."
"You're not the one in charge here," the vampire sneered, shifting his grip on Blair so his hands were at Blair's throat and forehead. "Back off or I'll break his neck."
"You don't want to do that," Blair said. "Listen, I can help you."
"Help me?" The vampire tangled its fingers into Blair's hair and jerked his head to the side. Slowly, it licked the length of Blair's throat. Blair shuddered, his pupils going wider. "You're the one that needs help."
"No, listen," Blair said. "It doesn't have to be like this. I know other vampires, ones that have stopped killing, and, and they're happy. They can show you."
"I'm happy," the vampire said. "And in a minute I'm going to be even happier."
"No," Buffy said, appearing next to Jim. "In a minute, you're going to be a whole lot dustier."
The next three things happened pretty much at once -- the vampire sank its teeth into Blair's neck, Jim pulled the trigger on his gun, and a good two inches of vampire skin, skull, and brains flew everywhere. The sound of the gunshot was still ringing in Jim's ears as he jumped forward and caught hold of Blair; Buffy let the vampire fall to the floor, then knelt beside it and staked it neatly. Dust flew.
"Chief?" Jim lifted Blair's face. "You okay? Jesus, you're bleeding."
Blair's breathing was quick and desperate, his pulse fluttering under Jim's fingers. "I'm okay, he didn't get much. I'm... oh God, that was close." His legs folded underneath him and Jim lowered him to the floor, letting Blair cling to him.
"Yeah, it was." Jim pressed his mouth to Blair's temple and inhaled the scent of him. "Too close. Easy."
"I don't think I could be taking it any more easy than this," Blair said weakly. He leaned against Jim, trembling.
"Looks like we're clear," Rona said, appearing in the doorway. "Oh geez, Blair, are you okay?"
"Peachy," Blair mumbled.
Buffy went into the bathroom that was attached to the room, then came back with a small towel and handed it to Jim. "Here."
"Thanks," Jim said. "Chief, turn your head so we can... yeah, good." Blair's hand came up to hold the towel to his neck. When he met Jim's eyes, his own were dark, pupils huge in his shocked face.
"I thought," Blair said. "I thought I could reason with him. I thought, if I could explain..."
"You can't reason with vampires," Buffy said. "Well, most of them, anyway. Rona? Think we should do another sweep?"
"Couldn't hurt," Rona said. To Jim and Blair, she added, "Call if you need anything," and then the two of them left Jim and Blair there alone.
Jim put his other hand on the uninjured side of Blair's neck to give himself a little leverage in helping put pressure on the wound. "Does it hurt?" he asked.
"What are you, crazy?" Blair said, but his voice was soft. "Yeah, of course it hurts, a vampire just bit me."
"There's a first time for everything," Jim said.
"This wasn't the first time," Blair told him, just as the edge of Jim's sensitive thumb rubbed across a tiny ridge of scar tissue.
"You should be more careful." Jim brought a fingertip to the scar and traced it lightly, noting the way Blair's skin prickled at the touch.
Blair was looking at him steadily. "I don't want to be careful," he said. "You know, Jim, I'm so damned tired of being careful. Careful sucks." And before Jim could respond to that, Blair's face lifted and Blair's lips pressed against his own, cool and a little bit dry, and Jim knew he didn't want to be careful anymore, either. All he wanted was Blair, and if having him meant throwing caution to the wind then Jim was willing to make that leap, to step off the edge.
He wrapped his arm around Blair's waist and pulled him in closer, where he wanted him, kissing him until Blair made a soft sound, eager and pliant in his arms. "I've missed you so damned much," Jim murmured against Blair's mouth.
"Me, too," Blair said. He'd managed to worm his hand beneath Jim's jacket, but seemed thwarted by the rest of the outfit. "We probably shouldn't do this, though."
"Probably," Jim agreed, barely even aware of what he was agreeing to. Then he heard Alex saying something downstairs and blinked, forced himself to pull away. "As much as I hate to, I've gotta go down and make sure everything's secure. I can't --"
"I know." Blair grabbed onto Jim's bow tie, tugged him forward, and kissed him again. Just once, but it felt like a promise. "But I'm coming with you. Don't you dare tell me to stay here." His eyes, blue and all-seeing and capable of making Jim feel strong and completely helpless at the same time, searched Jim's. "If we're gonna be together, it's all the way."
And Jim, who'd never been anything but Blair's, nodded. He stood up and offered his hand to Blair. Blair took it and Jim pulled him to his feet, snug in, their bodies pressed together. "You got it," he said. "All the way."
* * * * *
Note:: This story is a crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom. It also crosses over into the same 'verse as the gen BtVS/Supernatural story Push the Pedal Down (in which the differences between the vampires from BtVS and Spn are acknowledged.)
ponders_life's request: Set the story in 2008 (or at least a few years after TSbyBS). Take a guest star character and have him/her/them cross paths with Jim and Blair again. Jim and Blair separated after rift, third party is catalyst for reunion. Must end on an upbeat/hopeful note.
5600 words, R. Incredible thanks to janedavitt for the vital advice and the beta.
Time to Find You
by WesleysGirl
It had been more than three years since Jim Ellison had seen Blair Sandburg.
Life was so fucked-up sometimes; fucked-up and confusing, and Jim had never quite managed to convince himself that he was where he wanted to be, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't help but blame Naomi for the way things had ended up, even though he knew deep down that she'd been trying to do the right thing. Or what she thought was the right thing. Too bad she'd had no clue.
Now he was in L.A., playing private bodyguard to Alec Summers, boy wonder and a multi-millionaire at the tender age of twenty. Jim hated L.A., but when Blair had left Cascade without listening to a word Jim'd had to say on the matter, Washington had lost its appeal, too. The loft was too quiet without Sandburg, Jim's bed too big and empty, and gradually the idea that things would get better had stopped being something he could believe in. He'd quit the force, deaf to Simon's pleas, and moved south, chasing warmer, sunnier weather.
He'd done the security guard thing for about a year, being assigned to Hollywood actors and directors, waiting to see if something more permanent would come along. When it did, in the form of Alec Summers, he jumped at the chance to settle down.
Alec had a huge estate in Santa Monica. The main house had nine bedrooms and ten bathrooms, and the entire property was a little more than two acres. Jim lived in one of two guest houses -- the one behind the pool cabana, which worked out well for him because it meant he could sneak the occasional middle of the night swim without bothering anyone.
The problem was, he was finding it hard to sleep these days. The estate was pretty quiet when Alec wasn't having one of his glitzy Hollywood parties -- too quiet. Maybe that was why it was becoming commonplace for Jim to find himself still awake at two or three a.m., staring up at his ceiling with a prickle of sweat beading at his hip and hairline, sheets kicked to the foot of the bed. Like tonight, for instance.
He sighed and got up, pulling on a pair of shorts without bothering with underwear. He padded, barefoot and almost silent, through the guest house and out onto the lawn. The lush grass was damp under his feet as he made a quick check of the grounds, verifying that the front gate was locked and that everything was as it should be. It wasn't like Alec didn't have good reason to be paranoid -- he was one of the richest eligible bachelors in the country, and some of the business deals that had built his fortune had also made him enemies. Jim was there to make sure he stayed safe.
With the moon high overhead, Jim pushed his shorts down and slipped into the pool. He never dove at night -- he preferred to swim naked and didn't want to chance waking Alec, whose bedroom overlooked the swimming pool. The water was warm like always -- spoiled Hollywood residents heated their pools even in the summertime -- so it wasn't as refreshing as it might have been, but swimming forty or fifty laps helped relax him, helped him sleep. When he'd worn himself out, he floated on his back, eyes open, until he started to get sleepy.
Then he pulled himself out of the pool and went back to bed.
The alarm woke him at seven a.m.. He took a shower and got dressed, then walked over to the house and let himself into the kitchen, where Ana, the housekeeper, was slicing fresh fruit for a fruit salad. The citrus juice smelled tart and sweet at the same time and made Jim's mouth water. "Morning, Ana."
"Good morning." Ana smiled at him and gestured at the counter top behind her. "There's coffee."
Coffee was the first thing he had every morning, and they both knew it, but it was part of the ritual, like having a conversation with someone without actually needing to pay attention. It was comfortable; Jim liked it in the same way he liked Ana's coffee.
"Is Alec up?" Jim asked, wrapping a hand around his mug and letting the heat of it seep into his skin.
Ana nodded. "He's in the exercise room."
The gym was in the basement. There was a TV mounted to the wall -- Alec had stopped with the roller-blading years ago and now only ran because Jim insisted that he stay in shape, and the TV helped distract him. If left to his own devices, the kid figured his bank account would be all he needed to attract women, and he wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be capable of sprinting a reasonable distance. Some day he might need to, if someone came after him.
"Two miles," Alec huffed, out of breath on the treadmill. "Stocks are up."
Jim glanced at the TV, which as usual was set to some finance channel that alternated between reporting on the stock market and interviews with financial experts. "Good."
"Two," Alec said, "and a half. Right?"
"Right." They'd just upped the distance Alec ran five mornings a week the day before, from two miles, and Alec's face was flushed with effort.
Jim hung around until Alec shut off the treadmill and went to take a shower, just to make sure the kid wasn't going to slack, then went back upstairs for breakfast. Alec joined him ten minutes later, hair slicked back and a towel still draped around his neck. "Meetings today," he said. "Downtown, and then a cocktail party here at five."
"Right," Jim said. Alec always gave him a schedule at the beginning of the week, so there weren't a lot of surprises, and even when there were he could handle them. "Formal dress?" Never hurt to double-check. He pushed a few chunks of fruit around with his fork.
"Uh-huh." Alec gave him a funny look as he spread cream cheese on half a bagel. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jim said, but he dropped his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Been having a hard time sleeping."
Alec nodded. "I wondered. The bags under your eyes have bags. So what's going on?"
He'd thought he was doing a better job of hiding it. "Nothing. Just a touch of insomnia. It'll pass."
"Look, if you need some time off, I'm sure one of the other guys could cover for you," Alec said around a mouthful of food. "Benny or Mike, maybe."
"No, no, it's fine. Don't worry about it." The 'other guys' were part-timers who covered Jim's occasional day off or backed him up when there was some kind of public event. They were good enough at their jobs, but Jim didn't trust them to be as conscientious as he was.
"Maybe you should take a vacation," Alec suggested. "You haven't taken more than a day off at a time since you got here." He hesitated, then added, "If it's the money..."
"It doesn't have anything to do with money," Jim told him honestly. Not only did Alec pay him a generous salary, but he had no expenses to speak of other than the maintenance and insurance on his F-150. "I like the work." He offered Alec a grin that was only slightly forced. "Besides, I'd hate to miss any of your fancy soirées. When else am I gonna have the chance to meet Fiona Apple?"
"She's not coming tonight, she's on tour," Alec said airily. He was apparently willing to drop the other topic. "My cousin is, though, or at least she said she was going to try to drop by -- she's in town for a couple of days."
Jim stabbed the last wedge of orange with his fork and ate it. "Alone?"
"I don't know. She said something about meeting up with some friends, but I'm sure they're cool." That was Alec's way of saying they wouldn't have any interest in causing him personal physical harm; he could be surprisingly naive about some things, but it'd be okay. Jim would keep an eye on them.
Alec's meetings downtown were in a couple of different office buildings, so Jim's day pretty much consisted of standing in the background. He'd perfected the art of adjusting his senses so he could tune out whatever was being said while still being hyperaware of sounds outside the room, people's movements, and a few key words that would snap his attention back to the conversation at hand. Today, though, he was finding it harder than usual to do the fine-tuning he'd thought had become second nature.
Maybe it was the insomnia.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Alec asked as they got back into the car.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jim said. It bugged him that Alec was able to read him so well. It'd been a while since he'd let anyone get close, and Blair... well, the way things had ended with Sandburg ought to have taught him to keep his distance. "So how're things with the Lewis deal?"
"Weren't you listening? It's great. We're probably going to close in the next couple of weeks --" Alec was off and running. Good thing he was so easy to distract -- once Jim got him talking business, he'd go on for an hour with little more required from Jim than the occasional murmur of agreement.
Jim had time for a quick shower before the cocktail party. He scrubbed the water from his hair, which he still kept short, and put on his tux; everyone else at the party would be wearing one, and it helped him blend in if he looked like part of the crowd.
He snagged himself a couple of mini-tartlets and a glass of sparkling water and parked himself in the marble-floored, high-ceilinged foyer. The wait staff and coat check girls were regulars, provided by a local company. Jim did background checks and interviewed all of them before they were allowed on the premises. Most of them gave him nervous smiles but didn't try to talk to him.
From his vantage point near the stairs, he could make visual contact with people as they came in -- until Mike arrived and took over that duty. Then Jim was free to work the party. He kept to the perimeter of the rooms mostly, not letting his guard down even though months of functions like this one had never resulted in a single incident.
It didn't pay to relax.
About an hour and fifteen minutes in, Alec led a small, blonde woman in her mid-twenties over to Jim and introduced them. "Buffy, this is Jim Ellison. Jim, this is my cousin Buffy Summers."
"Nice to meet you," Jim said automatically, taking the hand that she offered him. For a slight thing, she had a hell of a grip.
"You, too," Buffy said. She had a glass of champagne in her other hand and was wearing a form-hugging dress that didn't leave much to the imagination.
"Oh, there's Kimber," Alec said, gesturing at the stunning redhead who'd just come into the room. "Excuse me for a minute? I'll be right back."
Buffy gave Jim a sidelong look while taking a sip of champagne. "So, you've been around a while, I take it?"
"Why do you say that?" Jim asked.
"Oh, you know." Buffy stepped closer to the wall, standing next to Jim so she wasn't blocking his view anymore. It was like she did it deliberately, too. "Ex-cop?" she asked.
Jim blinked, then gave a short nod. "Yeah."
"I thought so."
"What about you? What do you do?" Jim was more interested in directing the conversation away from himself than he was in whatever her answer might be.
"Um." Buffy took another sip of champagne. "Well, I guess you could say I'm in security, too."
"Really?" He hadn't expected that. "Oh, right. Something with computers." It'd sort of make sense if that talent ran in the family.
"Mmhm." She was lying, though -- he could hear it in her voice. He doubted anyone else would have been able to sense it, but he sure as hell could. Question was, why would she lie about what she did for a living?
On alert now, Jim turned as much of his attention to her as he could without jeopardizing his ability to survey the rest of the room. Buffy tucked her hair back behind her ear and a faint whiff of something familiar drifted toward Jim. What was it? It was earthy, some kind of herb, maybe. Damn, it was so familiar.
"Oh, good, there are my friends now." Buffy raised a hand to some people who'd just come into the room, and the newcomers started toward them. One of them was a young black woman with braided hair and beautiful almond-shaped eyes.
The other, Jim realized with a sense of shock, was Blair Sandburg.
"Rona, this is Jim -- he works for my cousin," Buffy was saying. "And this is Blair, he's been working with Rona on some kind of sociology project --"
"We've met," Jim said shortly, keeping his eyes anywhere but on Blair's face. "Excuse me."
He pushed his way through the crowd, aware that he needed to get it together, and fast. Catching Mike's attention in the foyer, he pointed at his own chest and then jerked his head toward the bathroom. Mike nodded and Jim slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, giving himself two minutes. Two minutes to remember and then forget again.
Blair stretched out naked in Jim's bed, all that glorious skin bared for Jim's eyes and mouth and hands.
All the nights they'd been together, kissing, having sex, staying up until three in the morning talking like stupid, love-struck teenagers.
Those were the parts he needed to forget.
The part that was most important to remember was what had happened afterward, after Naomi had sent Blair's thesis to her friend at Berkshire Publishers and everything had gone to hell. They'd tried to pretend there was a way to salvage things, but Blair's life had been all tied up in that research, and he hadn't been able to keep from resenting that it'd been discredited. And, to be fair, Jim hadn't been able to forgive himself for assuming that it had been Blair and not Naomi who'd been responsible for it ending up on Sid Graham's desk in the first place.
He should have known better. He should have trusted Blair, and he hadn't, and it had gotten all screwed up and fucked-up, and in the end there'd been shouting and Blair storming out of the loft saying he was never coming back, and possibly a boot thrown at the door after Blair had slammed it.
Jim gripped the edges of the bathroom sink so hard that his hands hurt, then took a deep, deliberate breath. Let it out slowly. He splashed a little water on his face, dried it off, and opened the door to find Alec standing on the other side of it wearing a worried expression.
"Jim, I'm so sorry," Alec said. "I swear, I had no idea Buffy's friend was bringing Blair with her. I didn't even know she was the friend that knew Blair."
"Okay," Jim said wearily.
"I didn't even know she was the friend that Buffy was in town to visit," Alec went on. "I would never have --"
"Okay," Jim said, with more emphasis. "Okay, I get it. It was just an unfortunate coincidence." He looked past Alec. Blair was standing at the far end of the foyer, right in the middle of the doorway, totally oblivious to the people who were trying to walk around him. Their eyes met, and Jim's gut twisted so suddenly he thought he might be sick.
"Look, I can explain to Buffy..." Alec stopped talking when Jim stepped around him and headed across the floor toward Blair, who looked happy and scared and confused, but who didn't move, not even when Jim reached him.
"Hi, Chief."
"Hi, Jim." Blair was nervous.
"You look good."
"Thanks. So do you. I... well, I forgot how you look in a tux."
Jim nodded. "It's been a long time." Thirty-eight months, in fact, not that he'd been counting. "How've you been?" God, he sounded like an idiot. How've you been? That was the best he could do for the man who'd been his partner in every way that mattered?
Shifting to the left as someone pushed past them, Blair said, "Okay. Good, actually. Busy. Turns out there's this --" He was ready to babble on about something, Jim could tell by the way his eyes lit up, but he cut himself off abruptly like he'd just remembered Jim wasn't the one to do that with. "Um, anyway, I'm good. What about you?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Jim tried to think. "I'm working. Right now, I mean."
"Uh-huh. I didn't know you were. Working for Alec. I talked to him about a year ago and he never mentioned it." Blair sounded at least a little bit annoyed at that; somehow, it made Jim feel better.
"I hadn't been here very long at that point," he said. Plus Alec knew what had gone down between them -- the kid had probably figured, rightly, that his chances of keeping Jim as an employee would go way down if he started handing information back and forth. He glanced around for Alec, whom he should have been keeping in his sights the whole time, and saw him standing near the front door talking to Mike.
Blair fidgeted, drawing his attention again. "You're not a cop anymore."
"Nah." It wasn't the same without you. "Thought I'd try something new."
"Yeah, well," Blair said. "I'm sure Alec appreciates having someone as experienced as you working for him."
"Even when I'm barely managing it?" Jim asked as Alec joined them. "Look, I'm sorry about this," he told Alec, but Alec just waved the apology away.
"Mike's got everything under control," Alec said. "Benny'll be over in ten minutes. I'm officially giving you the night off."
Jim looked at Blair, whose lips were pressed thin. "Really, you don't have to--"
"You're off duty," Alec said firmly. "Go away. Unless you've suddenly developed a taste for this kind of thing." He gestured at the finely dressed people around them and Jim shook his head.
"Not really, no, but..."
"Jim," Blair said, and Jim's eyes went right to his again like an object obeying gravity. "If... if you want to talk -- I'd be into that, man. I'd like that." Jim's chest felt tight. He nodded, and Blair said, "Just let me tell Rona I'm going so she doesn't wonder what happened to me."
Alec patted Jim's shoulder as they watched Blair go back over to Buffy and Rona. "Look, Jim --"
"Just don't," Jim told him, suddenly weary. "Whatever it is you're going to say, don't. Just let me deal with this on my own."
They went upstairs to Alec's sitting room, which had some leather sofas and a brick fireplace that it was usually too hot to actually use. Jim had considered -- briefly -- the possibility of going to his apartment, but the thought of it, of having Blair in the place where he slept and dressed and jerked off, was a little too much.
Blair stood near the desk.
"You want to sit down?" Jim asked.
"I don't think so." Blair smiled apologetically. "I'm kind of wired. I wasn't expecting to see you."
You could have, Jim thought. Any time. "So," he said instead. "Are you and Rona...?"
Blair looked confused, then startled as he realized what Jim was asking. "What? No. No, no, no. We're just friends. Well, co-workers, really, but friends, too."
"Oh." He wasn't sure what to say after that. He knew what he should say, but when he opened his mouth, so did Blair, and they ended up saying it together. "I'm sorry, Chief --"
"Jim, I'm sorry --"
They both stopped.
"I shouldn't have walked out on you the way I did," Blair said earnestly. "There were problems, yeah, but I should have stuck around, made more of an effort to work them out."
"No, I don't blame you," Jim told him. "It was my fault. You had every right to be angry; I should have had more faith in you. I never should have let myself believe that you'd sell me out."
Blair swallowed and looked down. Light from the setting sun was streaming, golden, in through the windows, illuminating the wispy edges of his hair.
"What?" Jim said, when Blair didn't say anything.
Raising his eyes, Blair looked at him steadily. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."
"Well, I can be kind of pigheaded sometimes," Jim said. There was a little flare of warmth like hope in his chest. "It can take me a while to come around."
"I loved you, man," Blair said. His gaze didn't waver, but his voice was shaky. "I never would have done anything to hurt you, never."
"What about now?" Jim asked, even though he knew he shouldn't.
Blair shook his head. "I still wouldn't." Jim cleared his throat and wet suddenly dry lips; that wasn't what he'd been asking. Blair must have seen it on his face, because he said, "Now? Now, I -- it's been a long time, Jim."
"Right," Jim said quickly. "Right, and knowing you, you've been busy with some project or other." Evade, change the subject, anything to keep from having to hear that Blair's feelings for him were long dead.
"Yeah, actually, I have." Blair lit up. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you. Well, come to think of it, maybe you would, considering what you've been through and the things you've seen."
"So tell me," Jim said, meaning it as a genuine offer.
Blair backed up and leaned against Alec's desk; the position pulled his slacks tight against his thighs, and Jim had to force himself to focus on the fibers of the material as a means of distraction. "Okay, listen to this. Vampires? They're real."
That was a pretty good distraction. It sure as hell got Jim's attention, at least. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. And some of them are, like, the bad guys -- they kill people by drinking their blood! I know!" Blair's hands waved in the air as he talked. "It's crazy, right? That's what I thought, too, at first. But then I met some of them -- the good ones, see, there's this whole subculture of vamps living totally separate from the rest, making new rules, and it's like, I think they're evolving."
"Vampires are evolving."
"Yes! They're making conscious decisions to -- to work against their instincts. Everything in them is screaming at them to kill, but the ones in this group, they're suppressing that and choosing to live on animal blood -- well, okay, it's not really living because technically they're undead, but --"
"Sounds interesting," Jim said. He could remember when Blair used to talk about him and his Sentinel abilities like that.
"It is," Blair said. "I've been with them, learning about them. Of course, I'm in the same position I was with you. It's not like I can write a book about the secret lives of vampires without exposing the ones that deserve to keep their existence nothing more than a... a myth to the rest of society, you know?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah. I know." He tried not to grimace, but was sure he hadn't succeeded when Blair's expression went from animated to guarded. "Look, Chief, do you think -- Is there any chance you might..." Blair waited patiently, studying him, and finally Jim managed, "I miss you."
"Yeah," Blair said. His shoulders were relaxed, but Jim could see the tension in his hands where they rested on his thighs. "I know, man. I miss you, too." He was going to make Jim say it, and really, Jim couldn't blame him for that.
"Do you think... I mean, if you're not seeing anyone. Do you think we could maybe try again?"
Blair smiled. It made his eyes shine and his lips curved into a shape Jim still dreamed about. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I think we could." He shifted his weight forward, away from the desk, and took a step in Jim's direction, but Jim held up a hand to stop him, listening. "What?" Blair said.
"I don't know," Jim told him. It wasn't anything in particular, but something was off. "Hang on, it's just --"
The sound of glass breaking downstairs assaulted Jim's ears.
"Stay put," he said to Blair, pulling his gun from its holster and heading for the doorway. But Blair was right behind him as he reached the top of the staircase. People were running out the front door, others screaming. "I told you to stay put!"
Blair shook his head as they started down. "No way."
Some things never change.
There was a woman lying on the floor in the foyer; Jim crouched down to feel for a pulse in her throat and his fingers came away wet with blood. She was dead. Where the hell was Mike? "Call an ambulance," he hissed to Blair, because if people were dying there'd be hurt ones, too. "Stay here." Maybe Blair wouldn't notice she was dead.
"Because that worked so well last time," Blair said, pointing. "Look at her throat! That's what vampires do, Jim."
Another woman stumbled back into the room like someone had hit her. She fell, then whirled to snarl at Jim, and her face... her face was twisted, deformed, her eyes jaundice-yellow. In shock, Jim lost his balance and caught himself with his palm against the floor. Someone screamed in the other room, and the woman -- vampire -- was up and gone in a flash, almost before Jim could blink.
Wow, he thought. Blair hadn't been kidding, had he.
Jim got to his feet and to the doorway, pushing his way past more people who were trying to get out of there as quickly as possible, in time to see Buffy slam what looked like a chair leg into the chest of the female vampire. The vampire froze, then exploded into a shower of dust. Buffy tossed her hair back and grinned at Jim. "Helps to be prepared," she said, and spun to join Rona, who was fighting two more vampires.
It didn't take them long to pop the vampires -- that was what it looked like, like popping a balloon full of ash. The stuff went everywhere, raining down, too heavy to remain suspended in the air.
"Sorry." Buffy looked at Alec, who was over near the wall behind Mike. "I know, I know, we should leave our work at the office."
Alec laughed shakily. "Right. Because clearly I'm so good at that."
Clearing her throat, Rona grabbed Buffy's hand and bowed -- a few seconds later, Buffy caught on and did, too. "Thank you!" Rona said as Alec started to clap. Other people joined in slowly, tentatively, and Jim wondered how many times these young women had had to pull the desired response from a crowd who thought they'd just stepped into a horror movie come to life. "Thank you," Rona said again.
In a low voice -- Jim was sure he was the only other person in the room who could hear it -- Buffy hissed in Rona's ear, "I'll patrol outside and see if there are any more -- you stay here and keep an eye on things."
Rona nodded and said, loudly, "Mr. Summers thought you'd all enjoy something a little unusual tonight. Our manager Blair can give you more information if you'd like to think about hiring us to perform at one of your parties."
Jim turned his head, but Blair wasn't where he'd left him. "Blair?"
"Blair?" Rona echoed a moment later. No response.
Stopping, going still, Jim listened. He filtered out everything else -- voices and other sounds, even faint things like the refrigerator's gentle hum and the ticking of the clock -- and listened for Blair.
The back of Blair's heel hitting a door's threshold as he was dragged, struggling, backward. The muffled sound of Blair's breath against a palm, quick, panicked.
"Upstairs," Jim said tightly, and ran without waiting to see if Rona would follow.
It wasn't hard to find Blair; Jim knew the house so well, and he was focused on every little sound Blair made, no matter how muffled. Stealthily, Jim slunk around the corner to just outside one of the guest rooms, then shoved the door open and held his gun at the man who had an arm wrapped around Blair's throat, his other hand covering Blair's mouth. For a second or two, Jim thought he'd been wrong, that it was just a man, but then the 'man' gave a shake of his head and his face morphed, kind of slid into shape.
Jim's heart was pounding in his chest, and he could hear Blair's wheezy attempts to draw air. "Let go of him."
"You're not the one in charge here," the vampire sneered, shifting his grip on Blair so his hands were at Blair's throat and forehead. "Back off or I'll break his neck."
"You don't want to do that," Blair said. "Listen, I can help you."
"Help me?" The vampire tangled its fingers into Blair's hair and jerked his head to the side. Slowly, it licked the length of Blair's throat. Blair shuddered, his pupils going wider. "You're the one that needs help."
"No, listen," Blair said. "It doesn't have to be like this. I know other vampires, ones that have stopped killing, and, and they're happy. They can show you."
"I'm happy," the vampire said. "And in a minute I'm going to be even happier."
"No," Buffy said, appearing next to Jim. "In a minute, you're going to be a whole lot dustier."
The next three things happened pretty much at once -- the vampire sank its teeth into Blair's neck, Jim pulled the trigger on his gun, and a good two inches of vampire skin, skull, and brains flew everywhere. The sound of the gunshot was still ringing in Jim's ears as he jumped forward and caught hold of Blair; Buffy let the vampire fall to the floor, then knelt beside it and staked it neatly. Dust flew.
"Chief?" Jim lifted Blair's face. "You okay? Jesus, you're bleeding."
Blair's breathing was quick and desperate, his pulse fluttering under Jim's fingers. "I'm okay, he didn't get much. I'm... oh God, that was close." His legs folded underneath him and Jim lowered him to the floor, letting Blair cling to him.
"Yeah, it was." Jim pressed his mouth to Blair's temple and inhaled the scent of him. "Too close. Easy."
"I don't think I could be taking it any more easy than this," Blair said weakly. He leaned against Jim, trembling.
"Looks like we're clear," Rona said, appearing in the doorway. "Oh geez, Blair, are you okay?"
"Peachy," Blair mumbled.
Buffy went into the bathroom that was attached to the room, then came back with a small towel and handed it to Jim. "Here."
"Thanks," Jim said. "Chief, turn your head so we can... yeah, good." Blair's hand came up to hold the towel to his neck. When he met Jim's eyes, his own were dark, pupils huge in his shocked face.
"I thought," Blair said. "I thought I could reason with him. I thought, if I could explain..."
"You can't reason with vampires," Buffy said. "Well, most of them, anyway. Rona? Think we should do another sweep?"
"Couldn't hurt," Rona said. To Jim and Blair, she added, "Call if you need anything," and then the two of them left Jim and Blair there alone.
Jim put his other hand on the uninjured side of Blair's neck to give himself a little leverage in helping put pressure on the wound. "Does it hurt?" he asked.
"What are you, crazy?" Blair said, but his voice was soft. "Yeah, of course it hurts, a vampire just bit me."
"There's a first time for everything," Jim said.
"This wasn't the first time," Blair told him, just as the edge of Jim's sensitive thumb rubbed across a tiny ridge of scar tissue.
"You should be more careful." Jim brought a fingertip to the scar and traced it lightly, noting the way Blair's skin prickled at the touch.
Blair was looking at him steadily. "I don't want to be careful," he said. "You know, Jim, I'm so damned tired of being careful. Careful sucks." And before Jim could respond to that, Blair's face lifted and Blair's lips pressed against his own, cool and a little bit dry, and Jim knew he didn't want to be careful anymore, either. All he wanted was Blair, and if having him meant throwing caution to the wind then Jim was willing to make that leap, to step off the edge.
He wrapped his arm around Blair's waist and pulled him in closer, where he wanted him, kissing him until Blair made a soft sound, eager and pliant in his arms. "I've missed you so damned much," Jim murmured against Blair's mouth.
"Me, too," Blair said. He'd managed to worm his hand beneath Jim's jacket, but seemed thwarted by the rest of the outfit. "We probably shouldn't do this, though."
"Probably," Jim agreed, barely even aware of what he was agreeing to. Then he heard Alex saying something downstairs and blinked, forced himself to pull away. "As much as I hate to, I've gotta go down and make sure everything's secure. I can't --"
"I know." Blair grabbed onto Jim's bow tie, tugged him forward, and kissed him again. Just once, but it felt like a promise. "But I'm coming with you. Don't you dare tell me to stay here." His eyes, blue and all-seeing and capable of making Jim feel strong and completely helpless at the same time, searched Jim's. "If we're gonna be together, it's all the way."
And Jim, who'd never been anything but Blair's, nodded. He stood up and offered his hand to Blair. Blair took it and Jim pulled him to his feet, snug in, their bodies pressed together. "You got it," he said. "All the way."
* * * * *
Note:: This story is a crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom. It also crosses over into the same 'verse as the gen BtVS/Supernatural story Push the Pedal Down (in which the differences between the vampires from BtVS and Spn are acknowledged.)