"Get what worked out? Jim, there is nothing to work out. Just get these off." Blair pulled against the nails again, but couldn't budge either hand. Jim had pulled the sweatshirt tight, and set the nails close to each wrist, harmlessly but effectively pinning his hands in the sleeves.
Jim shook his head. "No, not until I get this over with."
"Get what over with?" Blair was beginning to worry, ever so slightly. "Jim, if you wanted to talk, we could have sat on the couch and talked."
"No, I don't think so." Jim replied, shaking his head and touching his chest. "Me, sure, I could sit on the couch and talk." He gestured then to Blair. "But you, you have this habit of taking a walk when things get hairy, and I need you to stay put. Besides, you've been sulking about something all week that you won't talk about, and I'm tired of it."
Blair sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I'm staying put. Just what's so important, anyway?" Please, God, don't answer that question.
"That's what I'd like to know," Jim replied, raising both hands in the air. "What's been eating at you lately?"
Blair swallowed, shaking his head and shrugging as best he could with both sleeves nailed to the wall. "There's nothing bothering me, Jim, I'm fine."
Jim shook his head and gazed around the room. "Okay, fine. I'll go first."
Blair shifted on both feet and felt something inside tense up. He couldn't help but feel like a kid who was about to be told why he couldn't do whatever he wanted by an adult who thought if he explained the reasons, he'd understand. He looked up at Jim, and a part of his mind prepared to shut off at the first sign of trouble. "What's on your mind?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"I told you I'd explain something a while back, and it's about time I did," Jim replied, standing in the middle of the room, looking Blair straight in the eyes. "When we came back from Peru, you asked me what happened. I wasn't ready to talk about it then because I wasn't sure if you were ready to hear it."
Jim paused, and Blair raised both eyebrows, "What do you mean, if I was ready?" Alarms began going off inside his head. Alarms that readied his nerves for the expected shut down he was tensing up for.
Jim looked thoughtful for a moment, glancing at the wall before turning back to Blair. "Before we left, before we heard about Simon and Daryl being lost, you told me you were leaving. Going to Borneo for a year."
Blair shook his head, "I said I was thinking about it." he corrected.
"Exactly," Jim replied. "You said you were thinking about it. Which to me meant you weren't taking this partnership seriously." He paused again, and Blair swallowed hard, but forced himself to maintain eye contact. "Before I had a chance to deal with that, we were on our way to Peru, and my Sentinel senses began to disappear. Then that panther showed up, and I started to think I was losing my mind all over again. It was just like when these senses first started coming out. I had no control, I had no idea what was going on, and no one to explain it to me." Jim began to pace the room just slightly, taking a few steps towards the wall, then back again. "And there it was, happening all over again. You were leaving, my senses were leaving...I didn't know what the hell was going on."
Blair listened, watching Jim pace back and forth. Old guilt began to blossom, pushing out thoughts of retreating into himself. He never thought Jim would have equated the loss of his Sentinel abilities with the idea of him leaving. Just as he had never thought Jim would be so interested in having him stay. Or, that someone could be so concerned about his emotional well-being as to resort to physical restraint in order to make him open up. Blair wasn't used to someone wanting him around permanently, and he still wasn't used to it. Jim's views on stability and dependability baffled him. It was a view of life that he hadn't seen before, and he found himself fascinated by it. Intrigued by it. And strangely attracted to it.
"But your senses came back."
Jim nodded, and stopped pacing. "Yes, they did. But I had to make a choice. It was going to be all or nothing. He said it would require my soul."
"He?" Blair asked suddenly. "Who?"
Jim shook his head. "I can't explain it, not very well." he said.
"Well try, Jim," Blair insisted. He'd told Jim to follow a panther. Who had he found? Oh God, was it...?
"I followed the panther, like you said, only when I caught up to him, or rather he let me catch up to him, he sort of..." Jim hesitated, then shook his head. "He turned into a man."
Jim stopped and looked up, as if he expected criticism. Blair nodded, slowly, trying to take it all in. "Yeah? Then what?"
Jim shook his head again and made a face, turning to pace a little again. "He said something about how my abilities were a test, and taking them away from me was a way to force me to make a choice. I could either go on, back to life as a normal man, with no Sentinel senses, or go forward, and commit to them completely." He paused again, glancing at Blair.
"And?" Blair asked, urging Jim to go on. His mind was racing with possibilities, but no clear vision of what had happened.
"And I hesitated."
"Why?" Blair asked quietly.
"Because, I couldn't take that step alone. And I still thought you were leaving." Jim looked thoughtfully at Blair and slapped one hand into the other, then rubbed the back of his hand. "And I couldn't make that commitment for you. I didn't have the right."
Jim stopped and Blair furrowed his brow, confused. "For me? Jim, what commitment? What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, Chief, that I can't control these senses without you. The reason I seem in control is because you and I are working so well together. I wasn't too sure about this Guide business at first, but then I realized, the only way I can keep pace with these senses, is when you're around." Jim stopped again and shrugged a little, trying to find words for something he was having trouble explaining. "Is any of this making sense to you?"
Blair was quiet for a moment as he tried to digest what his partner was saying. It was sinking in, slowly, but he needed to be sure. "So, you're saying...you need me?"
Jim laughed a little, shaking his head and glancing at the ceiling with a slightly incredulous look on his face. "Didn't you tell me every Sentinel needed a Guide? Look, Chief, I didn't realize what I was getting into when this whole sensory thing took over, but you did. Now, I have to admit, the thought of having you around wasn't my idea of a good time, at first." Blair rolled his eyes and made a face, and Jim chuckled. "But I'm willing to admit I was wrong about you. You really knew what you were talking about. And with you around, these senses seemed to fall into place." He got serious again and faced Blair. "But, when you said you were leaving, my senses left, too. I had to realize it was no coincidence."
Jim paused again and Blair looked at the ground. The implications were both flattering and frightening. But, if Jim had that kind of faith in him, a man who took trust and commitment so seriously, maybe Blair should too. "I don't know what to say."
"Well, that's a first," Jim said, smiling with that sideways grin he used when he felt he had just gained the upper hand. "Listen, I made a commitment that day, to stick with this whole Sentinel thing. I knew I couldn't do it if you left, but something inside said maybe you wouldn't. Maybe you'd see the value of what we've got going here and stick around." Blair raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. "Either that, or I could chain you in the basement until you saw the light." Blair rolled his eyes again and Jim laughed. "Now, the reason I didn't want to talk about his when we got back was because I didn't think I had to. You said you were staying, and everything was working out just fine."
"Sure, Jim, but..."
"But what? It's about Simon isn't it? That's what's been bugging you? Worried that Simon is going to kick you out or something?"
Blair glanced around the room, sheepishly nodding. His worries seemed so unfounded now, in light of what Jim had said. "Yeah, sort of. I mean, he's going to one of these days, isn't he?"
Jim shrugged, "I don't know. But when he does, IF he does, we'll deal with it. Listen, Chief, Simon do
esn't understand that the reason I'm in control of this Sentinel stuff is because you're around. Hell, he doesn't understand much of this at all. But we've got a good partnership going here, and I'm bound and determined not to lose it. Sure, I used to work alone. But I also used to be in Special Forces. Things change, Sandburg. People change. I could no more go back to being the man I was than you could join the police academy." He stepped closer and held up both hands. "So, are we okay now? No more worries? No more anxiety attacks?"
Blair laughed a little then, "Hey, no promises. I thrive on anxiety attacks, man." He shook his head and Jim rolled his eyes, putting on his best I'll-never-understand-you face. "I just...had a moment of insecurity, I suppose."
"More like a week or two."
"Okay, maybe a week or two." Blair shifted again, his nailed sleeves completely forgotten. "Listen, I panic now and then, no big deal."
"No, Chief, it is a big deal. There's nothing to panic about. As long as you understand that this Guide business is a permanent job."
Blair laughed again lightly. "Yeah, well, if you think you can stand me that long..."
"Hey, I'm your Blessed Protector, remember? It's my job to keep an eye on you for the rest of your life." Jim grinned, glancing around. He seemed to spot something at the far end of the room and stepped over to the wall.
Blair looked back at his shirt, assuming Jim was going for the hammer to pull out the nails. When he looked up, Jim was standing in front of him, paint brush in hand. "Oh, Jim. No way man. Not again." He tugged at both sleeves but couldn't free either. "Jim..." He was standing there, smiling with that same damn sideways, big-brother grin. It was a smile that spoke volumes regarding Jim's frame of mind. That, and the paint, spelled trouble for Blair.
Part 4
* * *
Jim couldn't help but feel good. Blair's ideas of permanence might be a little casual, and taken way too lightly, but he was changing. Slowly, but surely, Blair was accepting Jim's friendship and partnership, with less and less trepidation. Even seeing him wearing one of his old shirts, made Jim feel that maybe Blair was accepting him as a new part of his life, and future. And now, with his partner still stuck in place by the nails in Jim's old sweatshirt, and fresh paint so readily available, he couldn't resist the temptation.
"You once said you wanted a Cascade PD insignia tattoo." Jim dipped the brush into the small can of white trim paint he was holding. He looked back up just as Blair ducked, twisting his upper body and pulling at both sleeves at the same time. Before Jim could react, Blair had pulled another Houdini and was free of the sweatshirt, pulling it over his head and lunging forward at the same time. He slammed into Jim, tackling him and sending them both to the floor. The paint can fell to the side, spilling its contents all over the plastic, leaving a large, white puddle. The brush was still in Jim's right hand, so he tried to bring it around as Blair was rolling off of him. Before he could reach around, Blair had Jim's wrist in both of his hands and was trying to wrestle the brush away. He let go of the brush and flipped over at the same instant, reaching around with his left hand to retrieve it. Blair had started to get up as Jim rolled, and was trying to scramble out the door. Jim managed to grab both of Blair's legs before he could stand, and pulled him back down to the floor. He knew he had strength over his smaller partner, but Blair was quick, and twisted both legs free long enough to lunge forward and reach the larger gallon of paint from the other side of the room.
Jim hurried to his feet as Blair was standing, lifting the half full gallon of paint and grinning back at him. "You know, Jim, we need to have a talk."
Jim stopped, raising one eyebrow and keeping both eyes on the paint Blair held poised to launch into the air at any moment. "Oh...?"
"Yeah. About this "might makes right" problem you have," Blair said, adjusting his grip on the paint.
Jim laughed, gazing at the far wall for a moment and shaking his head. "Problem, Chief? I don't have any problems."
Blair shook his head. "Oh, Jim, I think you do. You see, when you want something, you get it. You either handcuff me to the bed, or nail my shirt to the wall..."
"That's my shirt, Chief," Jim corrected, still grinning.
"Fine, your shirt. The point is..."
"The point is, Sandburg, I'm stronger than you, faster than you, and just plain quicker than you." At that, Jim lunged, grabbing for the paint as he slammed into Blair With one hand on Blair's shirt to keep him from hitting the ground too hard, the other hand went for the paint can. Blair proved his speed once again, and sent the can flying straight up as he fell, knocked off-balance by the impact of Jim's body. They both fell, keeping an eye on the paint as the can now flew up, unencumbered, then down, tipping as it descended.
Jim ducked his head as the can came down, instinctively covering Blair's face with one arm, but the can inverted before hitting, spilling it's contents directly onto the back of Jim's head, as the can itself landed next to the two of them. Paint quickly oozed over Jim and onto Blair's head as he tried to duck under the larger man. Blair started laughing immediately, so Jim ran his hands across his neck, sweeping the excess paint off of his head and neck and flicking it onto Blair as he lay on the floor, still laughing.
"I think we can call this one a draw," Jim said as he raised himself to his knees, still flicking paint. "Okay, Chief?"
Blair's laughter continued, and he shook his head as the paint dripped down his long hair. "Yeah, Jim. A draw."
Jim got to his feet, feeling the paint ooze down the back of his neck with slick coolness. He reached out a hand and pulled Blair to his feet. "This time, I get the shower first," he said, gazing down at his paint-soaked partner. Blair just nodded and reached up to wring his hair, trying to stop the dripping. Jim was relieved and pleased that Blair hadn't been intimidated by this little paint fight, as he had the last time. And, they both seemed to be on the same track, for once. He flicked the last of the dripping paint off of his hands, towards Blair, and walked across the hall to the bathroom, turning on the water as he stripped. Stepping into the shower, he could hear Blair moving around in the bedroom, hopefully cleaning up after their mess. Jim let the hot water run over his head, closing his eyes against the flow of paint as it cascaded down his face. Once the runoff seemed clear, he picked up the soap and scrubbed off the last of the paint and sweat, smiling to himself as he recalled the speed with which he was able to secure both of Blair's sleeves to the closet door, holding his partner in place long enough to get him to listen, and lower that wall. As he finished up, he realized the water was turning cold. The small house had a matching water heater, rivaling the one in the loft that Jim was sorely tempted to replace with a larger unit.
He toweled off, listening for Blair who was still in the bedroom, gathering up the plastic from the floor.
"Hey, Chief, you'd better set those pots on the stove to heat some water," he called through the open bathroom door.
"Oh Jim, don't tell me you used all the hot water." Blair moaned.
Jim laughed lightly to himself, "Just get some water boiling, we'll get you cleaned up." He continued to dry off as Blair walked past the door, shooting him a dirty look before walking into the kitchen. He heard pots being filled with water, then crossed the hall to find dry clothes and another towel. After changing and picking up the last of the painting supplies, he walked out to the kitchen where three pots were beginning to come to a boil. Blair was standing in the kitchen, turning the knobs of the gas stove off. His hair was matted down with white paint, mostly contained within the ponytail he had put his hair into before they started working. He had removed the sweatshirt, and was just pulling off his t-shirt as Jim entered the kitchen.
"Oh man, what is it with you and paint, anyway?" Blair asked as he pulled the t-shirt over his head.
Jim shook his head, noting that the paint covering his partner was only on his head and neck. "Come on, Chief, hang over the sink." He walked up to the pots and tested each one for temperature. Blair obliged, taking his hair
out of its ponytail. Jim picked up the first pot and poured it slowly over Blair's head, making sure the water and paint drained off of him and into the sink. "You know, if you'd just learn to lighten up now and again, these little paint fights wouldn't be necessary."
"Lighten up?" Blair turned and took a face full of water.
Jim chuckled, "Yeah, lighten up. You take things way too seriously, Sandburg." Jim finished with that pot, found some soap and handed it to Blair. "What was with all those questions last night, anyway?"
Jim stood to the side while Blair worked the paint out of his hair and neck. "Nothing, really Jim."
The paint came out easily with the scrubbing, so Jim reached over for the next pot of warm water and poured it over Blair's hair while he leaned into the sink. "Nothing. You ask me about Carolyn, and the army. You've been worried about Simon and what he said the other day. Come on, Chief, I spilled my guts, now it's your turn." He finished with the pot and stepped back, tossing Blair a towel as he stood up.
"Okay, okay." Blair took the towel and ran it over his hair, rubbing out the worst of the water. When he finished, he held the towel, drying his hands and shrugging a little. "I just, ah, got to thinking, about what I was doing and all." He stopped, tossing the towel over to the couch. "You know, I thought when I found you, I could study you for a few weeks, get you into the lab for tests and see what the range of your Sentinel abilities were...." He shrugged again, looking at the floor and spreading both hands. "I just never thought this would turn into a...well, a new life." Blair stopped and raised his eyes to meet Jim's. "But, that's what it feels like."
Jim nodded, leaning back against the stove. "And, what do you think about this new life of yours?"
Blair laughed a little and looked around the room, shaking his head. "It's different," he said. "But I..." He shrugged again and sighed. "I like it."
Jim smiled, watching Blair. He was admitting to Jim, and to himself, that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than hopping around the globe, spending three months with one obscure tribe after another, then moving on as soon as it got too familiar.
Choices Page 4