B.J Sandburg

Part Nine

by Gillian

The sunlight was pounding into Jim's head behind his closed eyes. He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his head in the pillow.

"God, what a dream," he moaned to himself. He licked his lips and made a sour face. His mouth tasted like the bottom of a birdcage.

The mental image turned his stomach, and he tried to sit up. "Oh, god," he moaned, collapsing back on his pillow.

"Jim? You okay?"

Jim opened his eyes to see Blair standing at the foot of his bed. He knew he was in trouble when his Sentinel senses crapped out on him like that. He hadn't even heard him coming up the stairs.

"My head feels like two rats are mating in it," Jim groaned. "And one of them doesn't want to."

Blair chuckled, and Jim groaned again as the edge of his bed depressed.

"Why are you so cheerful this morning?" Jim said grimly, allowing one of his eyes to open a slit. "I seem to remember you overindulging right along with me last night."

Blair shrugged. "I never get hangovers, Jim, you know that. One thing that hasn't changed, anyway."

The pounding was fading a little, and Jim risked opening his other eye.

"Did we have a screaming argument last night?"

Blair raised one brow quizzically. "Remember that do you?"

"I was hoping it was a dream," Jim grimaced. "But then again I've woken up every morning this week hoping the day before was a dream."

"I know that feeling," Blair said absently. He traced a pattern on Jim's sheet. "You know, Jim, I have some theories about last night."

Jim groaned and pulled the pillow over his face. "No," he said in a muffled voice. "It's too early for one of your theories."

"Okay," Blair said reasonably, standing up. "If you don't wanna hear why you've fallen desperately in lust with me..." He trailed away and took a few steps.

Jim sat up so quickly spots danced in front of his eyes. "What??"

"Thought that might get your attention," Blair grinned.

"Don't toy with me, Sandburg," Jim warned. "Not before I've had coffee."

"Okay," Blair agreed. He leaned back against the wall, looking thoughtful. "See, I started wondering after you got all bent out of shape over me dating-"

"I had a perfectly sound reason for that," Jim interrupted.

"Can I finish?" Blair said pointedly.

"Fine," Jim said ungraciously. He lay back down on his pillow and assumed an uncaring expression.

"The way I see it, it all comes down to the Sentinel/Guide bond," Blair said earnestly.

Jim blew a raspberry at the ceiling. "Everything comes down to the Sentinel/Guide bond with you, Sandburg. Play a different tune why don't you?"

"I'm just calling it like I see it, Jim." Blair spread his hands expressively. "You've always been possessive of me, and now-"

"Now hold on right there," Jim interrupted again, sitting up. "I have never been possessive of you. What a load of crap."

"I can see it's no use talking to you right now," Blair said in disgust. "I'll go down and make coffee, and we can discuss this like reasonable adults when you've had five or six mugs full."

"Now you sound like my mother," Jim groused as he kicked the bed covers back. "Sentinel/Guide bond, my ass." He grumbled as he slipped his grotty robe on, and pushed his feet into saggy old slippers, and then grouched some more as he slopped down the stairs.

Blair turned from the coffee machine and surveyed him as he clomped over to the table and collapsed in a chair.

"Be still my beating heart," he said wryly. "Guess we don't have to worry about those pesky hormones of mine this morning, eh, Jim?"

"Shaddup," Jim muttered, rubbing his gritty eyes.

Blair poured two mugs of coffee and sat down opposite Jim. Minutes, and half a mug later, Jim opened his eyes completely for the first time that day.

"He lives," Blair pronounced.

"When am I gonna learn I just can't take liquor like I used to?" Jim appealed.

"It's my fault, I should have stopped you," Blair admitted. "But I really needed a drink last night."

"I needed something," Jim said fervently, chugging down the rest of the brew and standing to pour another cup. "Okay, Chief," he invited, leaning back against the counter. "Lay your theory on me."

Blair surveyed him for a moment, as if to judge his sincerity. "Okay," he agreed. "We already know about a Sentinel's territoriality, we've documented that."

"Not my finest moment," Jim mused.

"Not your fault either," Blair defended. "We're all a bundle of instincts Jim, a Sentinel is just closer to that than most people."

"Whatever."

"We also have evidence of a Sentinel's drive to mate with his own kind," Blair went on, avoiding Jim's eye.

The Sentinel in question buried his face in his hand. "I really don't need this right now."

"I'm getting to my point, Jim," Blair hurried on. "For all the instinctive stuff we've documented about Sentinels, we really haven't done a lot of study on a Sentinel's bond with his Guide. We know it's there, we know it's important. Vital, in fact. I mean, you and I have reached the point where we each know what the other's thinking, we can anticipate each other in a dangerous situation..." Blair gestured expansively.

Jim copied the gesture, eyebrows raised. "So?"

"So," Blair said with emphasis. "So what happens when we take that bond to its next logical step?"

"Which is?"

"Sex," Blair said simply.

"Sex," Jim repeated blankly. "That's the next logical step?"

"Think about it, Jim," Blair said eagerly. "It's the ultimate bond. And when you consider us, as partners, how could we be any closer than we are right now?" He shrugged. "By becoming lovers."

Jim rubbed his forehead wearily. "I'm still asleep, aren't I?" he said to himself. "This is one of those confusing dreams where stuff keeps happening that makes no sense. Any minute now I'll be back in high school standing in the hall in my underwear."

Blair jumped up and rapped on Jim's forehead with his knuckles. "Wake up," he said succinctly. "And hear what I'm saying."

"Hey," Jim protested, fending him off.

"I'm letting you off the hook here, Jim. I'm letting us both off the hook."

Jim surveyed him with a frown.

"This isn't about some stupid lack of control, or prurient curiosity," Blair continued earnestly. "This is about our natural instincts kicking in. The desire to cement our bond like this has probably always been here, but we've both fought it. Now we don't have to."

Jim thought it over, still frowning.

"You man, me woman," Blair said, pointing back and forward between them. "And somewhere inside us a button has been clicked to the On position."

"Okay, that's your theory?" Jim said, just checking to make sure. "We've always wanted each other, but now it's okay to want each other? If this instinct is so strong, Sigmund Freud, why weren't we getting it on when you were a man?"

"Maybe eventually we might have," Blair said simply.

"No way, Sandburg," Jim said with rock solid certainty. "I am not gay."

"Then there's your answer," Blair said. "You're not gay, I don't swing that way either, so whatever Sentinel/Guide thing we had going translated to pure friendship. And a great partnership."

"I'm not buying anything else," Jim said firmly.

"But what if your Guide had been a woman, Jim?" Blair posed. "Right from the start. B.J Sandburg, one hundred percent red blooded American babe. How long do you think it would have been before you ended up in the sack with her?"

Jim rubbed his chin irritably. "I can't answer that," he protested. "How could I know that?"

"We can theorise," Blair suggested. "Based on the data from just the last few days."

Jim thought about it some more. "Okay, so if you're right, and I'm not saying I think you are, but if you are, where does that leave us? With our natural instincts clamouring for us to jump in bed?"

"We didn't even need a bed last night, Jim," Blair reminded him. "The dance floor was enough."

"So how do we fight this?" Jim asked in exasperation.

"Sit down," Blair invited.

Jim narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"A little verbal test," Blair said easily. "Sit, I promise it won't hurt."

Jim sat.

"Now, Jim, I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to really think about it. Let the question settle and give me a sincere answer."

"Okay," Jim agreed dubiously. He cupped his coffee mug and tried to look alert. "Shoot."

Blair took a breath, and sat up straight, hands linked together in front of him. "Jim. I tell you I want to have sex with a man. Hot, wild monkey love with some sexy dude I picked up in a bar. What's your reaction?"

Jim's belly clenched, and he tried to keep his expression straight. Easy question, he thought. Outline the dangers of trusting a stranger. Point out the newness of the whole situation, and how vulnerable Blair was likely to be with his raging hormones. Mention... mention...

There was a crack of china and luke-warm coffee spurted out over Jim's hand and onto the table. The Sentinel looked down at the mess with surprise.

The Guide studied the shards of china in Jim's hand. "That's what I thought," he said.

"I... I'm," Jim stuttered.

"Territorial," Blair finished for him, jumping up and grabbing a kitchen towel. "At least where I'm concerned."

"I... don't wanna be," Jim said forlornly. He dropped the shards on the table and accepted the cloth, wiping his hands.

"Did you cut yourself?"

Jim examined his skin. "Just a little." He sat and watched as Blair pulled out their huge First Aid kit and sorted through it. "What are we gonna do, Chief?" he asked quietly.

Blair soaked a cotton ball in antiseptic and dabbed it on the small wounds.

"Ouch," Jim swore.

"Sorry." Blair leaned over and blew on the cut gently.

Jim held his breath as a cloud of fragrant brown curls tumbled over Blair's brow. He lifted his free hand and hooked a wing of hair back. "Chief?"

Blair turned lambent blue eyes on him.

"What are we going to do?" Jim breathed.

"We... we just have to avoid situations that might lead to... Lead to..." Blair trailed off, eyes smouldering.

Jim let the strands of brown hair trickle through his fingers. "Lead to us losing control?" he asked throatily.

Blair blinked. "Yeah." He straightened, a flush on his cheeks. "You-" He cleared his throat. "You need a band aid?"

Jim swallowed hard. "No, it's fine."

Blair returned to his seat and gulped down some coffee. "So. Um, that's our plan then?"

Jim scooped up his mess and dropped it into the trash bin, feeling his heartbeat settle in his chest. "You think that'll work?"

"I know you told me last night not to say it again, Jim, but maybe the only other option we have is for me to move out?"

"That's out of the question," Jim dismissed out of hand.

"That's your protective instinct talking, Jim," Blair said seriously.

"It's me talking," Jim returned. "I can't help the way I feel. I don't want you to be alone during this, any more than you want to be alone."

"I wouldn't exactly be alone," Blair pointed out. "I'd be with Naomi."

"No offence, Chief," Jim said, swabbing at his spilled coffee. "But if your mother is so concerned about you, where the heck is she now?"

Blair frowned. "I know," he agreed. "I expected her to be camped on my doorstep since my birthday. This change is all she's been talking about for months."

"What did she say when you called?" Jim asked, glad for a change of subject.

"Not much," Blair revealed. "I feel like she's hiding something from me, you know?"

"Something else?" Jim asked, dread in his voice. "What next? Vampires? Werewolves?"

"You mean I forgot to mention the vampire thing?" Blair asked, straight-faced.

"Ha ha," Jim said politely.

"She said she was coming up next weekend." Blair raised his brows. "I guess we'll find out then."

"I don't think I can take any more surprises, Chief," Jim warned.

Blair reached over and patted his hand reassuringly. "You'd be surprised what you can cope with, Jim."

Jim huffed a laugh. "Thanks."

"We've just got to play this normally, naturally. Not let ourselves get obsessed with it."

"Just go about our business," Jim agreed, making a sweeping gesture with his hand.

"Exactly," Blair agreed. "So, what are you doing today?"

"Uh, work," Jim mused. "Got some reports I want to finish. My mind hasn't exactly been on the job the last few days. You?"

"I still have some books to pick up."

"See, we can do this," Jim nodded, standing up. "No problem."

"No problem," Blair repeated.

"Uh," Jim paused. "You need money, Chief?"

Blair smiled sweetly, dimples flashing. "I'm fine, thanks, Jim."

"Whatever," Jim said easily, heading for the bathroom.

********

Blair slammed the front door behind him, and flung his keys into the basket. Jim looked up from his cosy sprawl on the couch.

"Welcome home, Chief," he said, raising an interrogative brow.

"You would not believe the morning I've had," the young woman fumed, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his coat with savage motions.

"Don't leave them there," Jim lectured, pointing to the shoes.

"First of all I had to stand in line for thirty minutes at the book store," Blair began, kicking the shoes across the room and through his doorway. He padded over to the couch in stockinged feet. "Then when I get to the counter I get the most patronising creep to serve me."

Jim watched in bemusement as Blair collapsed in a boneless sprawl in the armchair, slim jean-clad legs drawn up beneath him.

"D'you know what this guy called me, Jim? Little lady. Can you believe that?"

"The bastard," Jim snickered.

"Yeah," Blair nodded in agreement. "And he leered at me."

This was less humorous, and Jim contented himself with a grunt.

"Then I ran into Paul," Blair continued. "Much as I hate to admit it, you were right about not dating strangers. He was pretty rude about me breaking the date."

Jim's humour was now completely gone. "What did he say?"

"Just some snide comments." Blair looked down at his hands. "He asked me out again and I told him I was... seeing someone. I just wanted an excuse not to date him," he finished in a rush.

"Well, much as I hate to say I told you so," Jim began piously.

"You'll force yourself," Blair inserted wryly. "How am I supposed to tell what a guy's like?"

"You could just take your time here, Chief," Jim suggested. "What's your hurry?"

"I don't know," Blair said absently, rising to his feet and wandering to the patio. He crossed his arms and rubbed his hands on his sweat-shirt sleeves. "I just..." he trailed away.

Jim's brow furrowed with worried lines as he studied the slim figure. What strange forces had worked their magic to transform a man into a woman? And what other effects might those forces have on Blair over the coming months?

The night before Jim had spoken in anger, about protecting Blair from himself, but now he recalled his words and reavowed them silently.

"You know what?" he said cheerfully, hoping to break the sombre mood. "You need to learn some basic skills. And I'm not talking about make up, or toenail painting."

"Hm?" Blair hummed curiously, cocking a look over his shoulder.

"Self defence," Jim pronounced.

"Hn," Blair grunted, turning back to the window. "We've been through all that, remember? You made me learn how to toss my own body weight over my shoulder, and mangle someone's throat with a karate chop?"

"That was as a man." Jim jumped to his feet and began sliding furniture back to clear a space on the floor. "You'll find that your whole centre of gravity is different now. Not to mention the fact that you just can't rely on that upper body strength any more."

Blair turned and surveyed Jim's activities with disinterest. "I don't want to."

"Look, Chief," Jim said seriously, straightening up. "Women your age have usually spent half their lives learning how to judge men, and how to fend off unwanted suitors. Unless they've been living in a nunnery, of course."

"I know how to judge people, Jim."

"As a man you know how to judge people," Jim pointed out.

Blair looked unconvinced.

"Come on, Chief. Indulge me, okay? I just need to know you have a few basic survival skills up your sleeve."

"All right," Blair sighed in resignation. "Let me change into my sweats."

When he returned Jim had the area cleared and the rug rolled up. "We really need some padding down here."

Blair stopped in alarm. "You're not going to throw me or anything, are you?"

Jim grinned. "Trust me, Chief."

Blair hauled up his sweat pants and took a deep breath. "Here goes."

Jim went through a few basic moves, demonstrating some holds Blair could use that relied more on balance than strength. He also explained some of the dirtier tricks he could resort to.

"Never be afraid to go for an assailant's eyes," he lectured seriously. "I know it's against your instincts, but believe me, if it's a choice between your life or doing your attacker some serious damage, well, my advice is scratch first, ask questions later."

"Maybe I should grow my nails," Blair pondered, shaping his hands into claws.

"It's a shame you don't like the high heels," Jim said. "They make very effective weapons."

"What about the old knee to the groin?" Blair asked with a grin.

"That presumes your attacker's a man," Jim smiled. "But yeah, let's practice that one."

Blair turned to face Jim warily.

"Now, I'll go for you, and you try kneeing me in the groin."

"I don't want to hurt you," Blair said dubiously.

"I won't let you," Jim assured him. "I'll try to dodge, so be prepared for that. Ready?"

Blair gave a grim nod, bracing himself as Jim assumed a menacing expression and came at him. He feinted to the left, and when Jim grabbed him he swung to the right and brought a knee up.

Jim countered the move easily, swiping Blair's right leg out from underneath him, and allowing their momentum to carry them to the floor. He cushioned Blair's body with his own, rolling onto his back.

"Ouch!" Blair protested, struggling against Jim's hold.

"Calm down, Sandburg," Jim said easily, releasing him and letting him roll onto his side. "I didn't hurt you."

Blair lifted his hand and rubbed painfully at his chest. "You said you wouldn't throw me," he accused. He grimaced, gently kneading his breast.

Jim frowned, realising he'd crushed Blair's chest against his own as they fell. "Damn," he said contritely. "Not used to training with women. You okay?"

"I guess," Blair said ruefully. He looked down at his chest with a pained sigh. "That smarts."

Jim patted Blair's arm apologetically, gazing down at Blair's hand where it shaped the soft bulge in a kneading caress. Blinking slowly, Jim could only stare in wonder as Blair stroked over the gentle curve to the other breast, fingers delicately massaging through the thin material.

When Blair finally spoke, Jim could only jump in surprise. "You want to see them?" he whispered throatily.

"What?" Jim's eyes jerked from Blair's breasts to his eyes. They had darkened to a glimmering sapphire, burning like lasers. "What?"

"I know you want to see them," Blair murmured.

"I..." Jim looked back down at Blair's chest, noting with a dry throat that both Blair's hands were there now, cupping the soft orbs caressingly. "I..."

"You must be curious. I know I would be."

"But, we weren't gonna do this," Jim said lamely, eyes tracking down to the waist band of Blair's t-shirt. Blair's hands followed, toying with the seam.

"You've been wanting to look at me for days," Blair accused with soft amusement. "Haven't you?"

Jim didn't even order his head to nod, but even before he'd finished the move Blair was grasping the waist of the t-shirt and tugging it upwards. Jim's eager eyes tracked over the downy flat belly, dipping into the concave navel and tracing up to the neat rib cage.

Blair pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it, shaking his hair loose. But Jim didn't notice. His eyes were glued to Blair's chest, where two creamy orbs were rising and falling with each nervous breath.

"Oh my god," Jim breathed. "This is too weird."

"Do you... Do you like them?"

"You're beautiful," Jim said thickly. Before his eyes the tender nipples bloomed and hardened, standing like proud blossoms against the snowy white breasts.

"They do that all the time," Blair confessed shyly. "It's like being back in high school."

Excitement roiling in his belly, Jim risked a glance up into Blair's eyes. "How do they... feel?"

"Different." Blair rolled his eyes. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"How?" Jim's fingers itched to touch, and he curved them around Blair's back, tugging him until he was cradled in the crook of his arm. The wooden floor was hard beneath his hip, but he barely noticed.

"When I touch them..." Blair began breathily.

"You touch them?" Jim blurted out, arousal storming over him.

"Of course! Wouldn't you?"

Jim swallowed again. "What do they feel like?"

"Like my whole body is connected," Blair said dreamily. Almost absently his hands drifted up, fondling his own flesh sensuously. "I had a girlfriend once who swore she could come just from this. I never believed her, but I do now."

Jim was so hard he felt like he could come just listening to Blair talk about coming. With a shaking hand he smoothed over Blair's skin, his chest rising and falling with excitement as he neared his goal. Blair stopped his own caresses and waited, eyes locked on Jim's as the older man's callused fingertips lingered over the lower swells of his firm young breasts.

"Do you want this?" Jim asked hoarsely.

"God, yes," Blair groaned, hands locking around Jim's neck. With a muffled cry Jim gave in, cupping Blair's breast in one shaking hand and leaning over, taking the firm bud between his lips and suckling gently.

"Oh, man!" Blair yelled, hands clutching painfully at Jim's hair. He tugged and Jim's lips popped free with a wet, sexy sound.

"What?" Jim said anxiously, licking his lips with a ravenous hunger. "What?"

Blair twisted, and tugged Jim's head again, this time to the neglected nipple. "This one too," he groaned, and Jim eagerly complied.

Head coming off, Jim stroked and suckled, drinking in Blair's passionate moans and strangled little gasps, along with his skin's sweet nectar. His hands were roaming, taking their fill of the lithe strength of the body beneath him, his nostrils were flared with the honeyed, familiar scent of feminine arousal.

And then he was seeking Blair's lips, finding them already open and waiting. Soft breasts were again crushed against Jim's chest, but this time Blair wasn't struggling away, but closer, pressing himself eagerly against his partner's firmness. When Jim pushed his thigh between Blair's legs, the young woman responded instantly, straddling the firm muscle and grinding down against it.

Blair pulled his lips free, throwing his head back and crying out his anguished pleasure, desperately seeking his completion. Heart filled with tenderness, Jim helped him, adjusting his body so that his own hardness was pressed in just the right spot. The rocking movement he initiated sent shockwaves through them both.

"Jim!" Blair called.

"God, Blair," Jim groaned, burying his face in Blair's neck as ripples of satisfaction pulsed through the young woman's body. Jim's own completion crashed over him, and he gripped Blair hard, suckling on the tender skin of his neck with reckless abandon.

"God," Jim moaned again, sated pleasure coursing through him, settling in his bones, dragging his body down with weariness. "Damn."

"Jim," Blair mumbled, curving his still trembling body against the older man's. "Fuck."

"Maybe later," Jim mumbled.

Blair huffed an exhausted laugh, raising a hand and swatting Jim's chest clumsily.

"Way to keep your distance there, Chief," Jim chided.

"Never really believed it would work anyway," Blair confided with a kitten like yawn. His pink tongue curled and Jim shivered, clearly recalling the raspy stroke of that mobile organ against his own.

"Then why suggest it?" Jim demanded, vaguely aware he should be feeling outraged, but feeling too damned good to care. He snuggled Blair closer.

Blair shrugged. "Couldn't think of anything else to say?"

"'Do you want to look at them'," Jim derided in a false voice.

Blair recovered a little, pushing an unresisting Jim onto his back and leaning over him. "Don't mock me," he ordered.

Jim's eyes dropped to the swaying breasts in front of him, scanning the pale golden orbs closely, noting the beginnings of bruises. He flicked a glance up to find Blair grinning down at him, eyes gleaming.

"I think I like this," the young woman whispered.

"You're getting power mad," Jim accused, fighting against this familiar torrent. "Calm down."

"Why?" Blair demanded, attempting to straddle Jim's narrow waist.

"Come on, Chief," Jim said firmly, sliding away from temptation. "Enough."

Blair stared at him in surprise. "Jim?"

"I'm supposed to be protecting you, remember?" Jim reminded him, his own disappointment making his voice harsh. "I guess that includes protecting you from me too. Or do you want to lose your virginity on the floor?"

Blair stared for a moment longer, and then a tide of red flushed up his chest and over his neck. When it reached his cheeks he couldn't hold Jim's gaze any longer, and with a muffled cry he snatched up his crumpled shirt and struggled to his feet.

"Chief?" Jim called contritely. "Blair? Don't be like that!"

Blair's door slammed shut, leaving Jim on the floor with a wet lap and a spinning head. "Oh crap," he swore. Standing up seemed to be too much trouble, so he lay back, folding his hands behind his head. "Well, I started this whole thing on the floor, and here I am flat on my back again."

Long minutes later the floor was getting hard and his wet spot was getting uncomfortable, so he stood up, still feeling the smooth glide of satiation in his bones. Despite how it ended, it had been some of the best sex he'd ever had, not least because of the forbidden thrill.

He'd discuss that with Blair, once the young woman had calmed down. Blair was the reasonable one, he'd surely be willing to talk about this in a reasonable, adult fashion.

"I'm going to take a shower," he called out as he passed Blair's door. Jim peeked with his Sentinel hearing, but he couldn't make out anything but the in and out of Blair's breath.

Emerging from the bathroom minutes later he peeked again, and this time the regular breathing assured him that Blair was asleep.

 ********

Hours later Jim had finished his book and taken a quick nap, and Blair still hadn't emerged from his room. Impatient to get this over and done with, Jim clattered around the kitchen for a while, rattling pots and pans while he whipped up a simple casserole.

Finally Blair's door opened, but before Jim could even turn around the young woman had streaked past the kitchen and down the hall.

"Fine," Jim muttered, turning back to his kitchen. By the time Blair emerged from the bathroom the kitchen was shiny and the casserole was bubbling in the oven.

"Chief," Jim appealed, irritation colouring his voice as Blair again streaked past into his room. "That's enough," Jim said firmly. He pushed open Blair's door and surveyed the young woman, who was curled up back in bed. "Come on, Chief, don't carry on like it's the end of the world. Let's talk about this."

"You don't understand," Blair said lowly.

"I was there, Blair, remember? Of course I understand."

"No, not that," Blair dismissed, pushing himself up in bed.

Jim studied his partner's pale face, tangled curls straggling over his forehead. "What?" he asked, alarmed. 

Blair's eyes moistened, his mouth turning down. "I got my period!" he wailed.

End of Part Nine.

Part Ten

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