Mercury In Retrograde

By Silk

Part 5

"What are you doing, man?" Blair asked with a husky chuckle. He could feel Jim's early-morning erection pressing into the cleft between his buttocks. He might have been half-asleep, but he knew a man on a mission when he saw...er...*felt* one. "Savoring the last few minutes before the alarm goes off?"

"Mmm...." Jim rubbed his stubble-covered cheek against Blair's shoulder. "Did I mention how much I love waking up with you in my arms?"

Blair almost blushed. "You do, huh?"

Jim sighed heavily as he embraced the younger man. "I love you, Chief."

Blair smiled as he twisted around to face his lover. His thumb stroking the side of Jim's face, Blair looked into the ice-blue eyes he knew better than his own. "I love you, too, Jim."

For a moment, it looked as though it would get a little too serious for first-thing-in-the-morning conversation. Then with what could only be described as instinct, Blair gave Jim an impish grin. "Don't be looking here for your good morning kiss, man. I've got morning breath up the proverbial ying-yang."

"I don't care," Jim said, an unabashedly sentimental smile curving his lips. "Give me your mouth, Blair." He didn't know why, but being in love with Blair made Jim feel all kinds of young and unsophisticated and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Blame it on the Guide. Sentinels may be the ones with enhanced senses, but they follow, not lead. All appearances to the contrary.

Blair was mesmerized by the look in Jim's eyes. It was the kind of look that said, "Give me all your forevers." No one but Jim had ever looked at him that way. He was the one.

He offered his mouth, and Jim swooped in to claim it. Losing himself in the kiss that ensued, Jim swung a hard, well-muscled thigh over Blair's lower body, effectively trapping him.

That was okay. He liked being caught in Jim's trap.

***

They were almost late for work. What turned out to be a last-minute tryst was as satisfying as it was time-consuming. Blair raced into what he was already calling his "old room", pulling out bits and pieces of clothing to strew colorfully about the room, if not actually wear. Blair was accompanying Jim to the station today, and he wanted to look pulled together.

"Why, Chief?"

"Why do I want to look pulled together?"

"Yeah."

"How about cause I never look pulled together, Jim?"

Jim shrugged, the essence of Blairspeak eluding him for the moment. But he would try a rough translation. "If you never look that way..." He immediately held up his hands to forestall any criticism that might come his direction. "...and I'm not saying that you don't...what difference does it make if you don't...today?"

"I just-I want to look professional, Jim, okay?"

"But why? I like the way you look, Chief. Hiding that firm young body under all those layers. By the way, I've developed a serious fetish for flannel, Chief, so you can't stop wearing it."

Blair stopped his restless search to run his hands through his dark curls. "I don't want to look like a flake, Jim. I know what some of the guys must think now."

Jim's light blue eyes darkened. "Someone said something to you, Chief?"

"No...but eventually, someone will. I mean, it's inevitable, isn't it? It comes with the territory."

"Blair, it's not like everyone knows. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but who cares what everyone else thinks? We're the only ones who matter."

"Not in the real world, Jim. In the real world, everyone's judging and waiting impatiently for everyone else to screw up." Blair looked intently at Jim. "And let's face it, Jim, we both know I'm a monumental screw-up sometimes."

"Sometimes," Jim admitted. "But so am I. Sometimes. So is Simon. Connor. Rafe. And all those other people whose opinions suddenly became more important than mine."

Blair bit his lip and cast his eyes down at the floor. "That's not what I meant, Jim," he said hoarsely, looking like a penitent begging forgiveness.

"Do you think I don't know that?" Jim literally enveloped Blair, his entire body surrounding the man who gave his life meaning.

"I love you, Blair. Screwed up or not. I don't expect you to change into someone else now."

Their lips met in a kiss that was more tender than anything else. "I love who you are, Chief. Just be yourself."

Blair raised hopeful eyes to Jim's. "You really love me just the way I am, Jim?"

"Yeah, I do, Chief. I figure anyone who can put up with me 24/7 must have the patience of a saint."

"Just for that, I'll try not to make googly eyes at you in the bullpen."

"You have my undying gratitude, Chief. Now let's get a move on."

"One more thing, Jim."

"What?"

"This." Blair reached up to kiss Jim, and Jim's arms involuntarily encircled his lover's waist. When they broke apart, Blair said with a sigh, "Last kiss till lunchtime."

Jim winked at his Guide. "There are always coffee breaks."

"I think that might seriously freak out Simon," Blair replied, casting doubt on that particular option.

Jim chuckled. "Here's your backpack," Jim said almost benevolently, reminding himself to keep his hands off Blair at the station. No, wait, that would create even more suspicion. He and Blair were always touching each other. For them to suddenly stop might raise more of a flag to those not in the know.

"Get the door, okay?"

Whatever Jim might have answered was cut off by the shrill ringing of the phone. He leaned over his lover and picked up the phone with a terse, "Ellison."

There was no one there. Or was there? Jim frowned. He couldn't describe what he heard as dead silence. It wasn't. To someone without Sentinel hearing, it might well sound like there was no one there.

After a couple of attempts at "Hello? Hello?", Jim replaced the phone on its handset.

"Wrong number?" Blair asked.

"I don't think so. Whoever it was didn't feel like introducing himself."

"A breather?"

"Sorta," Jim responded, a trifle perplexed at his own reaction. He had a bad feeling. But he could no more point to anything specific than fly.

Blair chuckled. "I had one of those yesterday."

"You did?" The bad feeling got worse. "Where? When?"

"At the U. I was in my office. Before you called me."

"Did they say anything?"

"No...just...oh, yeah, there was this creepy laugh."

"Did you recognize the voice, Chief?"

"No. Why? You don't think it's-"

"I don't know, Chief. I wouldn't think so. But then again, Emory didn't seem like the type to give up that easily."

A moment later, Jim said to Blair, "Hit the machine, Chief. Maybe whoever it is left a message."

"No one could have called, Jim. You would have heard the phone."

Suddenly Jim's cheeks were bright red. "Maybe not."

"What?"

"IdialeddownmyhearingbecauseIwantedtofeeleveryfuckingplaceyoutouchedme."

"Run that by me again, Jim? You what?"

"I almost zoned on touch, Chief. I know I shouldn't have focused so hard on one sense, but I...I couldn't help it. You do that to me."

"Jeesh. I don't know if I should be kissing you or smacking you upside the head for doing something so colossally stupid. What if I didn't notice? Jim, you could have been lost...permanently."

"You would have noticed, Chief."

"I was a little distracted, Jim."

Jim had the grace to look embarrassed. But that expression didn't last very long. Jim caught sight of the answering machine, and its glaringly bright red numerals were illuminated quite clearly. Five messages.

Okay, he could account for one. It had to be whoever called while Jim was in the middle of making love to Blair last night. The other four?

Jim pressed the button on the digital answering machine. One after the other, every call was a hang-up. Each one exactly the same. That same tense feeling that someone was there, listening, waiting. For what?

It had to be Emory.

Suddenly Jim was damned glad that Blair would be right by his side all day long. He wasn't letting him out of his sight for a minute. No matter how nicely he pleaded.

Part 6