Living in the Gap
by Mab
"Sandburg, have you got that food packed?"
"In the carton by the counter."
"And turn that damn radio off."
"Thought you liked this station? Plenty of oldies' music."
"Any classic hits station that plays Dr Hook is going to get sued for a lack of truth in advertising. And any more 'oldie' cracks and you, my friend, will get an ass kicking."
"Gotta catch me first. Or if you promise to make it a spanking I might come quietly."
Jim resisted the temptation to say that Blair never came quietly.
"Humour the man who's about to drive you to an isolated fishing spot miles from nowhere where your body will never be found."
Blair blew him a kiss, and turned the radio off.
The two men clattered down the stairs and finished packing the truck. At the ungodly hour of 6 am on a Saturday the streets and freeway were fairly quiet and they made good time. The journey was marred for Jim by the fact that he couldn't get that damn stupid song out his head. "Baby makes her blue jeans talk" followed by a jangly guitar riff, on and on it went. On the plus side, Blair was well - playful probably described it pretty well. Little glances, touches, innuendo. Jim was determined to not show that it was getting to him. He put on his very best 'humour Sandburg' face.
"You know, if you wanted to spend the weekend fucking, we didn't have to get up at 5 am and drive into the wilds. You could have just said something."
"Jim, it's a wonder that you ever got any at all." Blair's voice was affectionate. "That direct military approach has its uses but you can have fun you know. Delayed gratification. Fooling around. Teasing. I know that you can do teasing, Jim. I've watched you walking around the loft in a towel, or boxers, or nothing at all. Besides, I like to do a little fishing."
Jim shrugged his shoulders, and then he thought, tease, eh? Quietly he began to sing that stupid song, with a small change to the lyrics, "He don't say nothing, but baby makes his blue jeans talk."
"Jim, you know I love you, but you can't sing, man."
"Learn to deal, Chief. You turned the radio on this morning."
It was still early when they reached the cabin, cool and fresh. First order of business was unloading the truck, and then as far as Jim was concerned he was going to teach that horny little bastard the meaning of delayed gratification. Blair grabbed the box of groceries, while Jim picked up the precious fishing gear. He began to walk into the cabin and felt a strange feeling run over him, a sort of dislocation. He stopped short, trying to identify what the hell that was. Whatever it was, it seemed to have passed.
Jim decided not to mention it to Blair. He credited him (these days) with the best of intentions, but Jim got a little tired of scrutiny, even when it was affectionate and concerned. The diss was dead, but Blair still had an analytical approach to Jim's abilities.
He stowed the fishing gear inside, admiring the view of Blair crouching down to put the food away. Mischievously, Jim began to hum. He walked over and crouched beside Blair, reaching out a hand to turn that face towards his own. Blair gently placed his own hand in the way, his fingers lingering over Jim's, before dropping his hand to return to his job.
"Uh, uh, tough guy. It won't stop at making out, and you're the one who gets off on a place for everything and everything in its place."
"I know what you get off on. Jesus, do you want the gold medal for cock teasing now or later?"
Blair gave him a very smug smile.
"Why don't you think up a suitable award ceremony?"
Jim knew that Blair enjoyed this particular game, teasing, anticipating, deciding just when the breaking point for them both should be. Jim made it a point of honour to hold out as long as possible, and decided he'd been a little weak in trying for that kiss. He grinned. A man had to keep his self-respect after all.
He headed out to the truck to get the rest of the gear and that feeling came over him again. This time it wasn't just strange, but painful, a spike in his eyes and ears. His skin was burning. He grabbed his head in his hands, willing it to stop. It got worse.
"That went well," a male voice commented sourly.
"We stopped it from breaking through," a female voice remonstrated.
"And what good is that," the other answered testily, "if it creates yet another anomaly that we have to deal with as well? It's taken something that doesn't belong, and now we have to get it back."
"You'd best remember to say 'him'. We may need the other one's help."
"Yes, well, you're the one who knows the social graces."
"Hey, Jim," Blair called out. No answer. So, he's doing strong, silent type now is he? Blair grinned and went outside. No sign of Jim. "Jim?" he called out again. "Where are you?"
Uneasy, he checked all around the truck and the cabin. Nothing. Seriously spooked now, he extended the area of his search, setting out at a jog, calling out all the time. What with backtracking to the cabin to make sure that Jim hadn't returned there, he spent maybe an hour in useless effort. He went back to the cabin, and paced backwards and forwards, scraping his hair back from his sweaty face. Okay, okay, next thing. Get in the truck and drive half an hour down the road to somewhere the cell would work. Call the emergency services, and come back to keep looking until they got here.
He stepped out of the cabin and stopped, startled. A man and a woman were standing by the truck. He headed forward again.
"Who the hell are you?"
The woman smiled at him. Another time Blair might have been impressed by model-perfect blonde beauty, but he had other things on his mind. She and the man moved forward, not in an overtly threatening way, but they stood right in front of the truck door. The man was about the same height and build as Blair, but that was the end of any commonality. His hair was a floppy blonde crop, and his expression as dour as Jim at his worst.
"I need the truck. Get out of my way." The couple regarded him calmly, as if daring him to do something to shift them. Blair realised that his fists were clenched.
The woman spoke. Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her. "It won't do any good. Whoever you're going to ask for help can't deal with this. We can."
Blair controlled his fear and temper with an effort. Time to talk to these oh so respectable looking people.
"What have you done to Jim? Is this some screwy kidnap thing, is that it?"
"In a manner of speaking." Her voice was amused. Blair had dealt with seriously weird before, but this woman and her silent friend were freaking him out big time.
"I'm Sapphire and this is Steel." O god, code names even.
"So, what's the deal?"
"Perhaps we should go inside. You may want to sit down."
"Yeah, I'm sure that will help a lot." But he turned around and walked back to the cabin, aware all the time of the two people behind him. His mind was working furiously. Jim couldn't be far away. Sound travelled up here and he hadn't heard any sound of engines, whether vehicle or helicopter. Those two certainly hadn't hiked in. The man wore a conservative grey suit, the woman a stylish royal-blue pantsuit, and both had the footwear appropriate to their clothes.
Blair pulled out a chair and sat down, eyeing the strangers defiantly.
"So, do I finally get to know what the fuck is going on here?"
"This may be hard for you to believe."
"Try me."
The man spoke for the first time, his voice crisp and hard.
"Sapphire will find it a lot easier if you don't interrupt. The sooner you know what's going on the sooner we can deal with it and get your friend back."
Blair spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. Carry on, he indicated.
"We are agents of an Authority that deals with how reality experiences time. Your friend is no longer within what you would consider the boundaries of time and space. There was a time disturbance earlier that Steel and I had to deal with. That's what we do. We were successful up to a point but there was a backwash, if you will, that caught up Jim. We have to get him back. It will be dangerous and we wouldn't risk it only for altruistic reasons. He doesn't belong where he's gone, and that lack of belonging will cause damage to everything you know if we fail."
Blair fought something close to hysteria. Jim was gone and he had to deal with two complete looney tunes playing games. Steel looked exasperated at Blair's expression of stunned disbelief.
"I think that Mr Sandburg needs a demonstration, Sapphire. Keep it simple, we're all going to need our strength."
The woman smiled, and stared at Blair. The blue of her eyes seemed to deepen, to glow a little even, and then Blair heard her speak- but her lips never moved.
"Is this enough of a demonstration, Blair? Is it unusual enough to convince you that the other things I've told you might possibly be true?" He heard an echo of her laughter, pleasant, and almost affectionate, like an adult performing a trick for a child's entertainment. There was an intimacy about the contact that convinced him beyond any further need for proof.
"Holy shit," he breathed. "Holy shit." He sat quietly for a moment, trying to deal with his shifting understanding of what made up the possible. Spirit guides, ghosts, now this. "Okay, I've got a few questions, and then we help Jim. First, what do you mean outside the boundaries of time and space?"
"The short version, Sapphire." Blair glared at Steel. This arrogant bastard was really getting on his nerves. Steel coldly stared right back at Blair with an expression that suggested that the feeling was mutual. Sapphire spoke, normally this time.
"Imagine that time is a corridor. It passes both through and around everything and yet it doesn't touch it. It's not supposed to. Time itself is alive, and sometimes it tries to break through into what is. We stop that. Sometimes it takes things.
Your friend is trapped in that corridor, being pushed from place to place, incident to incident. That is very dangerous for him. It's not a place intended for humans, or most life for that matter. There is also the risk that Jim may break through the corridor himself, causing - irregularities. Each time he breaks through he changes things, creates what wasn't supposed to be, and that makes the corridor more fragile and increases the risk of another breakthrough. And there are creatures that live in the corridor. It's not safe at all."
Blair struggled to cope with the concepts presented to him. The woman was sincere, coherent and completely incomprehensible. He had a moment's sympathy with all the times that Jim's eyes had glazed over when Blair tried to explain some esoteric idea to him.
"Are you suggesting that Jim is moving through time like some sort of cosmic pinball?"
"No," Steel replied brutally. "He's moving through time like a cancer catalyst, and we have to stop him before the tumours he creates destroy everything."
He was crazy, or dreaming, and he wanted it to stop right now. The madness took so many forms - flashes like the worst drug trip he'd ever heard of, with pictures that he heard, smells that crawled over his body like electric shocks. There was a misty indistinct place, where he could see little, but he knew that something, several somethings, were after him. He could hear the sounds they made, deep lion-like grunts, a hungry whirring that suggested a sky full of locusts. He ran, always straight, straight on ahead, until there was an unexpected corner, and they led to flashes of memory. The first time he sank with relief into the familiar, but it never lasted. He would jolt on towards new craziness.
(He strode down the aisle of the hotel conference room, ignoring the buzz of comment and the flashes of a couple of cameras. He had one object and that was the nervous-looking man standing on the podium at the front. He didn't care about the scene he was making. Thanks to Blair Sandburg he had no secrets left from anyone. The whole wide world knew what he was, bisexual cop, freak of nature, Sentinel. The word was shit in his mouth.
"You little bastard, you sold me out!" he roared. "How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends." We were lovers - but even now he couldn't say it, although most of the room would have drawn their own conclusions from the book and Blair's lifestyle.
A security guard tried to stop him, so Jim drew his gun. The crowd erupted in panicked noise and nobody could move away fast enough. Blair remained frozen on the podium. Jim leaped up to confront him face to face, the face that he used to love. He put the gun away, a show of good faith.
"What is this Blair? Why did you do this to me, huh?" His voice was quiet, pleading. He wanted to hear, needed to understand how they came to this point. Blair was good with words. Maybe he could find some that Jim could bear to listen to.
Blair licked his lips, swallowed hard.
“Hey, look Jim, I'm sorry, man. I've been chasing this for so many years. It was my chance, y'know." That little nervous laugh. " I never meant to hurt you. Look, come on, let's take this somewhere not so public. I'm sorry that I wouldn't talk to you before. Come on, big guy."
He was careful not to touch Jim, and began slowly to walk towards the steps of the podium.
"Don't call me that, Chief. Dr Sandburg. Naomi should have called you Judas. At least she had the grace to be ashamed. Your chance, huh? What chance have you left me?"
Jim looked at this spoilt child that he'd mistaken for a man worth loving. The rage burst through again and he grabbed Blair by the shoulders and shook him, hard, like the dangerous brat that he was.
“Dammit, let go of me. Stupid - caveman - thing to do." Blair struggled to get out of his grip. The two men swung around on the podium, and Jim let go as Blair continued to struggle. It hadn't been quite his intention but Jim felt a malicious surge of pleasure as the well-dressed Dr Sandburg flew backwards off the podium. There was a mess of chairs below, left by the retreat of Blair's audience, and Blair landed heavily in it, the back of his neck hitting the seat edge of a tipped over chair. There was the crash and thud of his landing, and another sound that only Sentinel ears picked up - the crack of a broken vertebra.)
No! That didn't happen. I wouldn't do that. I didn't have to, because Blair named himself a fraud. A sickness of shame overruled fear, but only for a moment. There was movement behind him, and he ran.
"All three of us are going to track him down," Steel explained. "We find him, we get him out, we come back. The pickup will be quicker if Mr Ellison co-operates. That's why you are coming." A certain edge of voice suggested that it was Blair's only useful function. "You are a connection with what he knows. It won't be pleasant, but Sapphire will buffer you enough that you should manage."
"And we're going to that corridor, Time itself?"
Sapphire shook her head.
"It's far too dangerous. We are going to look for any disturbance that Jim has created; some sort of alternate reality is the most likely. Hopefully we find him within it, we remove him, and tidy the mess."
Resentment flared in Blair. The idea of Jim being regarded as some sort of vandal child had a lot to do with it, especially since he had inferred from Sapphire's explanation that it was their fault that Jim was gone. "Not for altruistic reasons," was a phrase he remembered too. Throughout, this strange pair had emphasised the danger of what they were about to do. A suspicion had been growing in Blair, and now he finally voiced it.
"Even if we succeed, he's going to be damaged somehow, isn't he?"
Both avoided his eyes.
"Just how badly is he going to be hurt?" His voice rose. "How bad is it going to be?"
"There is a reasonable hope that we'll find him before he comes to any harm; but there is a chance that he will die, or be permanently insane," Steel admitted. Compassion briefly broke through his usual sternness. "Sapphire will do what she can. At best, there will be unpleasant memories."
Blair shrugged his shoulders, trying to shift the burden of terror. Unpleasant memories they could deal with. Let that be all, he prayed, let that be all of it.
The three of them stood in a tight circle, their joined hands held up to their shoulders.
"Now, Sapphire," said Steel.
There was a sound, a throbbing pulse. Sapphire's eyes glowed as they had before, only so much more brightly, and the blue filled everything. Blair found himself wrapped in whatever these two were - certainly they weren't human. He could feel Sapphire questing, searching for Jim. He could feel the bedrock strength of Steel that both anchored her and pushed them on. He could feel a hungry presence prowling around them, seeking a way in or a way out, seeking to fulfil wants that his mind had no way of comprehending.
He reached out with whatever it was that he sensed with in this nowhere place, looking for Jim.
"There," he yelped.
"Not now, but recently," said Sapphire. Her voice was strained.
"Can you get him back there before he breaks through again? This is serious enough now, Sapphire. If he does it again, we may not be able to contain it." Steel's voice was urgent. He sounded afraid, and Blair shuddered.
Sapphire reached out, feeling along the fabric of the corridor, that tunnel that it was so important should remain contained. Like a child's game of guessing the object in a bag without looking at it, a doctor feeling the progress of a baby by manipulating the mother's stomach. Here! Steel understood what she needed and shoved against the fabric of the corridor to block Jim's way, shoved the other side to keep Jim safe from his pursuers. Then, Steel wrestled that bundle back to the excrescence that they had tracked him to, that circle of events that was ever expanding. Jim was in - and so were they.
They appeared in a room that was frantic with activity - the panic centred around two points. There was a shouting mass of people gathered around what looked like someone lying on the floor. There was another struggling mass, three men trying to restrain Jim and drag him away. Jim was screaming Blair's name, absolutely out of control.
Sapphire did - something - and the noise and panic froze. Still holding hands in their circle they walked awkwardly to Jim, who was as frozen as the rest. Sapphire and Steel let go of each other, quickly detached Jim from his would be captors and scooped him into the middle of the immediately rejoined circle of hands.
Jim straight away returned to the here and now, whatever that was. His expression wild, he twisted and fought to escape the circle, trying to break through Sapphire and Steel's grip on each other. They stood unmoving, apparently now no more aware of him than he was of them. He didn't seem to see anything except the tableau of the crowd milling around whoever was on the floor. Blair realised who it must be and shouted Jim's name. Jim turned and saw Blair, alive. His face shocked and terrified, he stood still, and Sapphire took them out.
They appeared by the cabin, the throbbing noise that was a manifestation of Sapphire's powers loud in Blair's ears. He saw the three of them standing together and disappearing, he saw his confrontation with Sapphire and Steel by the truck, he saw Jim, not the Jim standing in the circle, clap his hands to his head, fall to his knees and also disappear. The throbbing noise died away and there was just the four of them, standing outside the cabin on a fresh, cool, early Saturday morning. Sapphire and Steel let go of Blair's hands and each other's. Jim fell to his knees and Blair knelt also to envelop him in a hug. Jim was perfectly still and silent, his head bowed, and Blair was torn between concern for him, and the need to understand exactly what had happened.
"Is it over?" he asked Sapphire and Steel, who stood together.
"It never happened," replied Sapphire.
"But I remember it, and so do you."
"Yes, that's right." Her eyes twinkled in unhuman amusement. Then they changed and she also crouched by Jim. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, her expression distracted. She stood up.
"He's very lucky," she pronounced. "No organic damage."
Blair sighed in relief that was still alloyed with deep concern.
"What was going on there?" Blair asked. "If you think you can get it down to my level, that is." He was briefly ashamed of his sarcasm, but only briefly. "Some sort of alternate reality - that's what you called it before."
"Yes, well that's really quite easy to explain. Jim came through the wall of time into what is, and so reality began forming around him like a pearl around a piece of grit. What you saw was the potential existence of that place. He might have broken through somewhere entirely different and a different reality would have formed. But now, technically speaking, it never existed."
"That person on the floor there - that was me." It wasn't a question. Sapphire nodded. "And it was real to him?" Sapphire nodded again.
"So" Blair said, "the mess is all cleaned up, is it?" Sarcasm really did seem to be today's mode.
"No, not quite," answered Steel. "But we've done all that we can. The rest is up to you and him."
Blair cradled Jim's head in his hand, and laid his own head against Jim's. The only acknowledgement of the contact was a slight hitch in Jim's breath. When Blair looked up, Sapphire and Steel were gone.
Jim knelt on the ground, aware of Blair's arms around him, aware of the conversation between him and the strangers. Hollow with several sorts of shock, he stayed still, unable to summon energy or decision. He would just stay here and do nothing.
"Jim. Jim, look at me!"
All right, he could do that. He could look at Blair, alive. Yes, alive was good.
"Jim, get up, come on big guy -whoa!"
Jim had started away from Blair and onto his feet in a desperate scramble, and tipped Blair onto his ass on the ground as a result.
He swallowed sickness and found his voice.
"Uh, could you not, could you not call me that right now?"
Blair approached him cautiously, his voice soothing.
"Yeah, sure Jim. I don't know about you, but I think coffee is a really good idea. Coffee, Jim? Come on, love."
Blair reached out and took Jim's hand, drew him closer and walked with him, his hand about his waist, back inside the cabin. Once inside he sat Jim down at the tiny table, and moved carefully around, heating water on the camp stove, spooning instant coffee into mugs. Jim found it hard to keep his eyes off him, although he averted his face whenever Blair looked at him. There was careful deliberation in Blair's movements quite unlike him, and Jim wondered what Blair's own experiences had been.
The appalling idea struck him that Blair had experienced that little nightmare (real, fool, it was real) with him, that he knew what he'd done. Another look assured him that that wasn't the case. Blair had the look of a man determined to get to the bottom of things - of everything, if necessary. He'd had one hell of a surprise and now he wanted answers. Screw quoting Dr Hook. Time to acquaint Blair with the Stones - you don't always get what you want.
Blair sat down beside him with the two coffees, passed one over to Jim.
"So, do you want to hear my version first, or tell me yours?" he asked.
Jim preferred to say as little as possible, and the sooner that Blair got that message the better.
"Look Sandburg, from what I heard you saying to whoever those people were, and from my own oh so interesting observations, I'd say I fell into a bad Time Tunnel episode. Yes it was scary, it sucked and I plan to forget about it as soon as humanly possible. And that is as much as I'm interested in saying right now or ever."
Blair smiled tiredly. "Definitely today's mode."
"What?"
"Sorry, just that sarcasm seems to be the weapon of choice to deal with the shitty stuff today."
Jim took considerable interest in bad coffee, and decided to part with a half-truth.
"You were dead, Blair. I know that it wasn't you and I know it wasn't real..."
"It was real enough to you..."
Jim held up a still shaky hand. "Don't interrupt. You heard the lady. It never happened, and I'm going to keep thinking that way, until I feel better about the whole business. I do not want to wallow, so just leave it. You're not dead, you're alive, and we will go fishing. And that's it."
"What if I want to talk about things, Jim?"
"Talk away Sandburg. I promise to listen. Just don't expect me to reciprocate."
Blair examined Jim speculatively, and Jim felt his heart sink. The best defence is a good offence; whoever said that never met Blair. Jim sometimes thought that whatever influence connected Blair in his mind with a wolf had no idea. A bulldog or a terrier was more like it - something bred to grip and not let go. For now, Blair put on an appearance of acquiescence. Even in his current state of emotional upset, Jim wasn't stupid enough to think that it was anything other than an appearance.
"It's warmer outside. How about we get out in the sun and I talk?"
Jim nodded. They sat down in a sunny patch, Jim with his back to a stump, Blair sitting between Jim's legs leaning back against him. Blair told Jim about his side of events, filled with a great deal of theorising about the cosmic significance of it all. Jim held Blair and let him talk himself out, fighting the inclination to drowse in the sun.
He could not tell Blair the whole truth about that little 'scene'. He was deeply ashamed of what had happened - what he remembered happening, what he thought happened. It did not actually happen, no matter how many times his brain replayed that disgusting cracking noise. Just a very bad and particularly vivid nightmare. Jim knew that Blair would be upset if he told the full truth, but he might understand, given the circumstances. Well, that was the problem, wasn't it - the circumstances.
The dissertation fiasco was finally behind them, and Jim had no illusions about how much it had cost Blair, professionally and personally. He had tried to make up for his lack of trust, to convince Blair that he was loved, and he hoped that he'd succeeded in offering a fair exchange for what was lost. And now, "Yeah Sandburg, I was yelling my head off because I just killed you for publishing the diss." Somehow, he couldn't see it. It would hurt Blair to no point. He would just to have to tough it out, and wouldn't that be a new experience?
"Come on Sandburg, I think that we should go check out some fishing spots."
Blair's expression was humorously resigned. "Yeah, sure Jim."
The rest of the day was spent in the utmost normality. Walk and check out the river, return to the cabin to have lunch. Resume and finish the interrupted organization of the cabin. Go fishing. Eat dinner, which included fresh fish and relaxed conversation about nothing in particular. Perfectly normal, all of it.
Perfectly normal also to reach over and kiss Blair, nibble his lower lip, move his hands over his body. Blair grinned and reached up a hand to hold the back of Jim's neck, nuzzling his face against neck and jaw.
"So, Mr Ellison, what's your pleasure for this evening?"
Jim began stripping off Blair's shirts, always an enjoyably lengthy proceeding.
"Well, Mr Sandburg, you fucking me through the mattress has some appeal."
It seemed that it had appeal for Blair as well, which was good as far as Jim was concerned. He wanted to keep it light, but he needed Blair in him, wanted to feel his warmth all through and on him, and know that he was definitely here and alive. He ran his hands across Blair's chest, playing with his nipples, and grinned at Blair's pleased gasp. He fondled his cock, using every little touch and technique he could think of - the sooner Blair was ready the better.
More often than not they fucked face to face. He couldn't do that tonight, and pretended that he didn't hear Blair's exasperated little sigh when he lay face down. Exasperated or not, Blair approached Jim with all his usual care and enthusiasm, and Jim welcomed him inside his body.
Blair began moving, his breath warm on Jim's neck. He talked softly, little love words, sounds of encouragement, and Jim luxuriated in all the stimuli he could register. Touch, oh god, that was beyond belief. Smell of arousal, the noises that Blair made moving in and on his body. Jim felt Blair shift to brace his body differently, and somewhere in his wrist a bone clicked. Jim started. It's just a noise he told himself, people crack joints all the time, but suddenly desire and pleasure were fading fast. He pressed back against Blair, trying to regain the sweetness of it all, but it wouldn't happen. He kept up the movement of his hips but only to try and pretend to Blair that everything was okay. A thrust that would have been sweet a minute ago was uncomfortable. He wouldn't have made noise in a million years, but the tension in his body betrayed him.
Blair stopped, and queried "Jim?" Jim tried to shift provocatively beneath him, to tell Blair to get on with it, but he was hiding his face in his arms, and he couldn't say a word. Then Blair was off him, and on the side of the bed, a hand on his shoulder. Blair wanted him to turn over and show his face, and this was a time when 'damned if you do and damned if you don't' was so true.
"Jim." Blair's voice was getting a dangerous tone now. Jim decided to comply, because this was going to be completely shitty regardless of what he did. He rolled over and watched as Blair surveyed him, taking in the lax genitals and whatever expression was on Jim's face. Blair's face tightened in anger.
"Jeez, Jim. How did we go from fuck me through the mattress to honey, I have a headache, huh?"
He got up from the bed, and Jim rolled back onto his belly and hid his face in his arms again. Shit, shit, shit. He could hear Blair pulling his clothes on. Sight piggybacked to sound and he could 'see' his lover's jerky movements, his decision to not button the shirt that was the first thing he grabbed from the floor because his fingers were too clumsy.
"If you want to talk to me, then I'm sure that you can find me when you want. But there had better be some talking."
The cabin door slammed.
Blair was furious. He'd humoured Jim's attempts to put a veneer of normality on the day after the morning's exceedingly weird events. Sometimes all Jim needed was a little time, and Blair had found reassurance in it himself. But now the veneer was well and truly peeling, and Blair didn't know if he was more angry with Jim for trying to pretend nothing had happened, or with himself for letting Jim get away with it. He felt scalding humiliation that Jim had just let himself be fucked when he was getting no pleasure from it. That pain cheerfully fed his fury.
The moon was bright and Blair could see well enough. He paced up and down, waving his hands in the air, announcing his anger to any part of the world in earshot. If a certain Sentinel had his hearing primed, so much the better.
"Stupid bastards who think that macho stoicism fixes everything. Christ, why can't I get the truth out of the moron without having to act like some old time tooth puller? Am I some sort of fucking rapist that he can't tell me when he loses it? I mean, there's that whole truth thing in a relationship, although you'd think that I'd know better by now. You'd think that GI Joe manly cop of the year back there would fucking know better too. Jesus, when do I get trust from the bastard instead of the emotional equivalent of stay in the fucking truck Sandburg!"
He was so involved in his tirade that he didn't notice Jim until he spoke.
"Blair."
Blair. The Sentinel of the great city was in a conciliatory mood was he? Blair swung around to face Jim. "What?" he snapped.
"I do trust you. You're one of the most trustworthy people I've ever met."
"Yeah, and you prove that trust daily, don't you?"
"Well, since you're in my life and my bed daily, yeah. Come on Sandburg, I didn't mean to upset you. All this morning's weird stuff just transferred itself to the sex, that's all. Shitty stuff does that sometimes - it doesn't mean anything."
Blair watched Jim's face. Those eyes were looking over the top of Blair and into the middle distance, and it was very disconcerting. It was a habit of Jim's that he thought was well behind them, and the bastard was at it again.
"So the fact that I am so pissed off at you right now that I could kill you doesn't mean anything?"
Bingo, now that got a reaction all right. Blair stalked up to Jim and pulled his head down, kissed his mouth to the point of pain for both of them. He kept his grip on Jim, and stared fiercely into his face.
"Look at me, Ellison. Don't think that I've missed the fact that you've hardly looked me in the eyes all day. Look at me and tell me the fucking truth!" This last was loud in disregard of sensitive hearing.
Jim finally really looked at Blair. His expression was utterly miserable, and then something hard, and almost vicious, flashed across his face. Gently but firmly he removed Blair's hands from his head, and straightened, crossing his arms.
"Fine, Sandburg, you can have the truth. You already sussed that the body on floor was you. So guess who killed you in that little funfair?"
Jim was certainly looking at him now, and Blair was transfixed like a moth on a pin. He knew what he was going to hear, and after all this it was another humiliation to admit that he'd rather not.
"I did. Accidentally, but I did it. Because you published the diss and told the whole fucking world about me, about us, I shoved you off a podium and broke your neck. So, how about you put your psych papers and the new age crap to work and process that."
Jim's turn to walk away.
***
Jim sat at the table, not looking at anything, and trying not to feel anything either. It had been an hour or so since he left Blair outside, and he was debating in himself whether he should go out and drag him back. He checked every now and again with the senses to make sure that Blair was physically okay, but otherwise let him be.
Finally, he heard Blair come back. There was a draft as the door opened and then he felt Blair lean over behind him and drape his arms around Jim's shoulders and across his chest. Blair buried his face in Jim's shoulder and stayed there, unspeaking, for a long time. He was shivering, his skin cold where it touched Jim's. The temperature still dropped substantially at night and it had been briskly cool outside. Eventually, Jim shrugged Blair off him and stood up. Blair said nothing but the relief in his face was obvious when he saw that Jim was only getting him a jacket. Wrapping the jacket around Blair's shoulders, Jim held the material closed and bunched at Blair's chest.
"You wanted to know. You just can't let anything ride, can you? I shouldn't have told you like that, but ... I don't want you thinking that the dissertation is going to hang around your neck forever." Jim swallowed hard. "It wasn't you, Blair, but it was me. If you'd done things, the way you did it - there, in that place - I could have done that."
Blair pulled back from Jim but only to push his arms into the jacket, before returning to put his arms around him. Jim leaned into him, just as it seemed he always did and always would.
Blair sighed. " I'm not exactly St Sandburg, you know. I would never have purposely gone behind your back, but once it was Naomi's and Sid's fait accompli - I was tempted once or twice to just go with it." He sighed again. 'Like the lady said, it never happened." He steered Jim back to a chair.
"I brought some of that chamomile tea with us. It's soothing. Want some?"
"I've told you before that it tastes funny."
"Cat piss was the exact description, I think."
"Whatever. Anything you like, except chamomile."
Blair organised the tea, and Jim sat and watched him, exhausted by extreme emotion. Blair put the tea on the table, passing a fruity smelling cup over to Jim.
Unexpectedly, he graced Jim with a small smile.
"So, I'm one of the most trustworthy people that you know?"
Jim knew that his face was as bland as it could be when he was this tired. Deadpan, he replied, "I have some confidence in Simon's integrity."
"So long as you're not fucking him," Blair said serenely.
"Jesus, Sandburg."
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