Title: The Touch of Leather
Author/pseudonym: Captain Outrageous
E-mail address: wildeskind@surfree.com
Rating: PG
Status: New, complete
Parts: 1
Date: October 31, 2000
Archive: YES
Series/Sequel: none
Website: www.angelfire.com/md/wildchild/fanfic.html
Warnings: Possible meltdown. Jim babes beware.
Conventions: I use / / to mean when someone is thinking.
Disclaimer: I don't own the guys, I just torture them every
once in a while.
Summary: Jim and Blair go shopping, for leather.
Beta Credit: None. All the mistakes are my own.
Blair breathed in the pungent scent of leather as he and Jim
walked into the mall boutique. Rows upon rows of leather goods
confronted them in all different shades and textures. Bright red
sale tags dangled from the collars and sleeves of the jackets.
Blair picked up a jacket at random and checked out the price tag.
"Look at it man, can you believe the deals in here?"
Jim Ellison was fingering the smooth finish of a black leather
vest. The regular price tag said $80. The sale price tag said
$29.99. Slipping the vest off its hanger, he held it up to himself.
"Fantastic. What do you think of this on me?"
Blair grinned. "Is that with or without a shirt?"
The older man smirked. "Depends on where I'm wearing it.
You know, when Simon sent us down here to shop for my undercover
gig, I thought it was going to cost a fortune. But these prices
are great." He turned back to his partner.
Blair twirled around in front of a mirror wearing a long black
leather jacket. Plucking a pair of ray bans off a mannequin, he
struck a pose. "What do you think, Jim? The Matrix material?"
Studying the younger man for a second, Jim laughed. "Only
if you can dodge bullets, Chief. Besides, I don't think it would
work with your image."
"And what image would that be?"
"Your neo-hippy grad student image. You look like a drug
dealer in that outfit."
Blair shoved the ray bans on top of his head and shot an offended
look at his partner. "You don't think I could do drug dealer?"
Setting the vest aside, Jim picked up a black leather jacket with
zippers on the side. He shrugged into the jacket, he waved his
arms around to settle it on his shoulders. "Only if you come
from the mirror universe." He picked up a black leather beret
and settled it on his head. Spotting a pair of leather pants,
he swooped in, and snagged them just before another customer did.
He disappearing into a changing room with his booty.
Losing his audience, Blair took off the long leather coat and
put it back on its hanger. There had to be something he could
buy. At these prices, they were a steal. He was checking out the
leather backpacks when his partner came out.
A good looking blonde that had been going through the purses let
loose a wolf whistle. Blair privately agreed with the sentiment,
though he would never had told his Sentinel. The tall man was
dressed from head to toe in black leather, the supple material
hugging his muscular legs in a way that was almost indecent. The
zippered jacket hung open, showing off an impressive chest that
was emphasized by the soft white t-shirt which was a size too
small. The leather beret was perched on his head at a cocky angle.
Lapping up the attention, Ellison did a 360 slowly, letting the
store get the whole effect. Whipping of the jacket, he slung it
over his shoulder and stuck a poise, leaning agaist the wall with
one leg indolently bent. Blair just about swallowed his tongue.
This was bulldog Ellison? The hard-eyed cop that could freeze
a suspect at twenty paces with just a look? He was going to melt
the females in that outfit.
Which was, of course, was the effect they were looking for.
There was a soft thump off to the side where the blonde had collapsed
against a display. Blair was torn between the urge to help the
gorgeous woman and the urge to cover up his partner so that there
would be no more accidents. Simon was right, Jim was perfect for
the assignment, if he didn't send the female population into cardiac
arrest. Blair contemplated getting his partner to the drop off
site. They'd have to have Rafe and Brown to come along as body
guards and rent a limo to keep out of sight. Otherwise there was
going to be some serious car accidents.
Deciding that getting his partner out of that outfit was his first
priority. He grabbed Jim's muscular forearm, and pulled him off
the wall. Shoving him back into the dressing room, he shut the
door with a slam. "Do you have any sense at all coming out
of there looking like that?" He hissed.
There was a quiet chuckle from beyond the slatted door. "You
sound jealous there, Chief."
Blair's mouth worked itself for a second before he found the words
to respond. He wasn't sure whether to be offended or amused. He
settled on anused. "I'm not jealous, just concerned. That
outfit's already taken one female out today. God knows what's
going to happen when Connor and Rhonda sees you in that."
Blair scowled at a short brunette who was staring hungerly at
the dressing room door. This was going to be a nightmare.
The dressing room door bumped into him as the Sentinel came out,
dressed again in his street clothes. There was a chorus of disappointed
groans most of them female with a couple of male voices. Blair
grinned at the blush rising from his partner's neck. That was
more like it. Jim should be ashamed to look so good in leather.
Clutching the jacket, pants and hat to his chest, Jim hurried
to the cashier's. He turned and looked the younger man. "You
buying those ray bans?"
Blair blinked at him blankly before remembering the sunglasses
he had taken off of the display model. His cheeks heated up as
he returned them to the plastic man. As they walked out of the
store, he regained his composure. "Man, you are going to
be so good for this undercover gig. I can't wait to see the pictures!"
Jim groaned. "I forgot about those. Why is it that I got
this assignment? Rafe's much more suited for it."
Sandburg grinned. "He doesn't have your background in Vice.
Come on, you'll do great! It's not every day you get hired to
go undercover as an exotic dancer. They're going to have to hose
the audience down when you come on."
The End.
I am a delicate flower of creativity, and I'll re-write anyone
who says otherwise.
-The Writer
On the other hand, I do like to hear what people think of my insanity.
Email me at wildeskind@surfree.com.
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