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B.J Sandburg Part Six.
Blair fumbled with the tiny bottles in his hand as he sat down on the floor next to the couch. "There is no way they’re going to make it to the grand finale," he was saying as he crossed his legs and made himself comfortable on the floor. "Keep telling yourself that, Chief," Jim snickered, draining the last of his beer and depositing the empty bottle on the coffee table. He glanced at Blair for a moment, and then did a double take. The young woman was admiring tiny little glass bottles, holding them up to the light in consideration. "What do you think you’re doing?" Jim asked ominously. Blair looked at his little coloured bottles. "I’m going to paint my toe nails," he said innocently. "Not in here you’re not," Jim said firmly. "That stuff stinks." Blair turned his mouth down. "But, Jim," he wheedled. "I really want it to be dry by tonight." "Tough," Jim said in a hard voice. "You could go out onto the patio, but..." he trailed away, with a smirk on his face. Outside the wind lashed the driving rain against the patio doors, causing them to shake briefly. "Rats," Blair sulked, shoving the bottles aside and straightening his legs. "Besides, painted toe nails are tacky," Jim pointed out. "Why on earth would you do it?" "I happen to think it looks sexy," Blair retorted. "You would. What’s so special about tonight anyway?" Blair gathered his bottles and stood up. "I have a date," he said huffily. Jim’s jaw dropped to his knees and hung there for a moment. "What?" he sputtered. Blair reached his room. "You heard me," he called back, and Jim heard the sound of his bottles hitting the bedspread as he casually tossed them. Jim was off the couch and across the loft before Blair’s nail polish bottles finished clinking. "Very funny," he said. "Ha ha. See?" He pointed to his face. "I’m laughing." "I’m not joking," Blair said, opening his closet and surveying the contents sourly. Jim took in the picture he made standing there, dressed in loose jeans and a checked shirt that hung on his narrow frame. His hair was loose and fluffy and his full lips still had that sulky pout. Jim pictured some other man dissecting his partner like this, and his mouth went dry. "You’re going on a date?" he said, looking for clarity. "With a man?" "Well, I haven’t branched out into exploring my lesbian side yet, Jim," Blair shot back. Yet, Jim thought. He pushed that aside for now. "Who is it?" "Just some guy," Blair shrugged airily. "I met him in my new class. He seems nice." "Nice," Jim repeated calmly. Blair turned innocent eyes on him and his calmness fled. "Are you nuts!?" he yelled. Blair jumped and his eyes went round. "What?" Jim pointed an accusing finger at him. "You are a man," he said firmly. "You are not dating a man. Got that?" Blair stared at him a moment longer. "Are you giving me an order?" he asked blankly. Jim didn’t even have to think about it. "Hell, yes." A dangerous glint entered Blair’s eyes. "You might want to rethink that answer," he said quietly. "See, I forgot my veil this morning, and you obviously forgot the eunuchs for this here harem." "Don’t get all pissy on me here, Chief," Jim warned. "This is for your own good." "I wonder if you know how annoying it is to have someone say that to you?" Blair asked sweetly. Jim took this as a danger sign, kind of like a skunk turning its tail to you, or a rattle-snake starting to rattle. Blair was dangerous enough when he was quietly sarcastic, when he got that sweet look on his face he was downright deadly. "Now, Chief," Jim said, raising a warning hand. "Don’t go off the rails. I’m your friend, remember? And as your friend it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t jump in and stop you from making one of the biggest mistakes of your life." "Going on a date?" Blair said, raising his one brow. "With a man," Jim clarified. "Look, I know you’re thinking like a woman right now, I understand that." "Do you?" Blair inserted quietly. "All right!" Jim admitted. "No, I obviously don’t understand, I admit that." "Then don’t try to give me orders," Blair suggested, turning back to his closet. "Okay, no orders," Jim conceded, attempting to clam down. "How about we discuss this, Chief?" "Discuss?" Blair considered. "Like two reasonable adults." Blair titled his head and surveyed Jim for a moment. "Okay," he nodded, perching on the edge of his desk. He gestured to the neatly made bed. "Sit, Jim. Let’s talk." Jim sat, trying to gather his thoughts. "I know you want to experience this whole female thing," he began, wiping his hands on his thighs. "But I just think it’s all a little too soon for you to dive into the deep end. That’s all." "Deep end," Blair repeated. "Jim, I’m talking about going on a date here, not partaking of an orgy." Jim choked his racing thoughts to a skidding halt before they could career down that particular avenue. "I never suggested you were," he bit out. "But I saw how you were at the station the other day, Blair. You were really letting all that attention go to your head." Blair shifted a little on his perch. "No I wasn’t," he denied, looking guilty. Jim pushed home his advantage. "Come on, Chief," he said quietly. "I’m not judging you here. I’m just...worried." "It’s just a date," Blair insisted, but he didn’t sound so sure now. "You have months and months ahead of you for the whole female thing," Jim said reasonably, not allowing himself to think that far ahead. "Why rush into anything and risk making a mistake you really will regret?" "I suppose so," Blair conceded. He blew out a sigh, ruffling the curls on his brow. "I guess I could ring Paul and put him off." "You do that," Jim said, trying not to sound too eager. "I really wanted to go out tonight," Blair continued mournfully. "I feel like I’ve been a prisoner in here this week." "Well, why don’t we go out to grab a bite to eat?" Jim suggested, feeling magnanimous. Inside him he was breathing a sigh of pure relief, but he carefully didn’t let it show on his face. Blair looked hopeful, blue eyes lighting up. "You mean it?" Jim hesitated, automatically searching for flaws in the offer. "Sure," he said finally. "Why not?" "Excellent!" Blair jumped up and rushed to the closet. "I’ve been dying to wear this dress all week!" "Dress?" Jim faltered, seeing the pit opening up at his feet. Blair pulled a scrap of blue cloth from the closet, thrusting the hanger out towards Jim. "See! It’s perfect for dancing in." "D... dancing?" Jim stuttered, feeling the ground crumbling away beneath his feet. "It’s strapless, so I suppose it’s a bit daring," Blair continued, holding it up in front of him. "But the sales lady said it matched my eyes, what do you think?" Shining blue eyes turned on him happily, and Jim fell, clutching wildly, and fruitlessly, for a handhold. "I think you should phone Paul," he said, opting for the safest answer he could think of. "I’ll go get dressed." And then he fled, as he had done so often over the past week, to the relative sanctity of his bedroom. "Dancing," he groaned. "What the hell have I done?" Downstairs Blair was on the phone, and Jim tuned in just long enough to hear him letting this Paul creep down gently. Jim’s terror faded, and he couldn’t resist smirking as the poor sap tried to take it gracefully. "Dancing," he repeated. "How bad could it be?" End of Part Six.
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