|
B.J Sandburg Part Thirteen.
"Five months down," Blair said incredulously, marking another day off in his calendar. "I can't believe it!"
"How time flies when you're having fun, eh, Chief?"
Blair slanted him a wry grin. "It's been equal parts fun and sheer terror so far, Jim," he said sincerely.
And passion, Jim thought to himself. He studied Blair where he sat, head bent over his notebook, scribbling away industriously, glasses perched on his perfect little nose. Lately Blair had changed his style a little, now and then rejecting his jeans and layers of shirts for a sleeker style. Never one to notice clothes on women, Jim had to admit he noticed Blair.
Hair tied back in a high pony tail, warm blue sweater in a soft looking wool and some kind of tight checked pants combined to make him look about sixteen. He still avoided skirts and dresses for the most part, but it looked as if Megan had given him a few tips on underwear, because he definitely wasn't braless under that sweater.
Blair pushed his notebook aside and was studying the calendar again with a frown.
"Still nothing, Chief?" he asked quietly, recognising the worried line to Blair's forehead.
Blair shook his head. "This is the second one I've missed," he said steadily. "If it wasn't for the fact that I am most assuredly still a virgin, I'd be worried."
"Maybe you should see a doctor? Can Megan recommend a gynecologist?"
"And when he asks me about my medical history?"
"Make something up," Jim suggested. "You've always been good at that."
Blair chuckled, pushing away the calendar. "I choose to take that as a compliment," he smiled.
"Make an appointment. See someone," Jim urged. "Unless you've been kidnapped by aliens lately? Or is there some virgin birth thing attached to this gender change that I should know about?"
"Now that the family would have known about," Blair said firmly. "At least I hope so."
Blair wandered over and sat on the arm of his chair, a sign he took to mean Blair wanted to snuggle. Fully prepared to snuggle at any time of the day or the night, Jim obliged, tugging Blair gently down onto his lap.
"I was thinking," Blair began, tracing the line of Jim's chin with an idle finger.
"Always a dangerous sign," Jim interjected.
"Remember when I asked what you thought would happen if I got pregnant during the last months of my year?"
Jim's chest tightened with fear. He remembered the conversation well. For the first time he realised Blair's life could actually be in jeopardy over this... curse. From that instant he had resolved never to do anything to put Blair in danger. And if that meant spending the next year without thrusting into anything warm and wet, besides Blair's mouth, then so be it.
He had no complaints.
"I remember."
"Well, what if it's just not possible for me to get pregnant after a certain time? My periods stop, and I cease to be fertile."
Jim considered it. "I don't know what you want me to say, Chief. Answers I don't have."
Blair tucked his head into Jim's neck. "I guess only time will tell."
Jim detected a trace of sadness in Blair's voice. "Cheer up, Blair," he said, toying with the silken ends of Blair's ponytail. "The dreaded periods could be gone. No more PMS, not to mention PMT. No swollen breasts, cramps, bad temper..."
"Excuse me!" Blair said, sitting up, voice mock indignant. "It occurs to me I've been telling you way too much. A girl's gotta have some mystery."
"Don't start with that feminine mystique thing," Jim said reproachfully. "In my opinion it's what divides the sexes and breaks up relationships."
Blair just looked at him, head a little on one side, a tiny frown between his brows. Jim had dubbed it his cat-stare.
"That's it!" Jim said. "That's the look. It says I'm just a dumb male, and you're the wise she-goddess."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Blair said pityingly.
"And that's the voice!" Jim said triumphantly. He tackled Blair, rolling him over and crushing him underneath his body. Blair's cat-stare had dissolved to helpless giggles by the time Jim had his arms pinned.
Jim held both of Blair's narrow wrists in one hand and held the other one over Blair's ribs. He waggled his brows theatrically. "Say: 'You're the man, Jim.' Say it!"
"You're the man, Jim," Blair giggled. "My big ole caveman."
"Wrong!" Jim tickled Blair's ribs lightly, running his fingers over sensitive skin, turning Blair into a squirming creature beneath him.
"All right, you're not a caveman!" Blair gasped. He wriggled his hands free and wrapped them around Jim's head. "Now, kiss me, you fool."
Jim obliged, sinking into the intimate kiss, tasting Blair as deeply as he could without climbing into his skin. He broke off the kiss after long minutes, feeling a numb tingle in his lips, his heart pounding like a jackhammer.
"Bed," he managed to mutter.
Blair released him, but instead of climbing to his feet he grabbed the waistband of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head. Then he tugged at the band holding his hair back, shaking it so that it fell around his bare shoulders in an umber cloud.
"Bed later," Jim said raptly, loving this side of Blair. How he embraced this feminine side, how he gloried in this new sensuality. Jim had no first hand knowledge of Blair's sexuality as a man, but if the powerful passion he displayed in Jim's arms was any indication, it was little wonder he'd gone through women like they were kleenexes.
Blair was tracing the contours of his breasts, fingers skimming over smooth cotton and lycra, toying with the tiny pink fabric rose sewn between the cups.
"Changed your mind about bras?" Jim asked hoarsely, eyes on those nimble fingers. Beneath the cotton Blair's nipples were firming, showing dark through the thin fabric.
"Megan recommended it," Blair said dreamily. He got this certain look in his eyes when he touched himself, and Jim could only watch, dry mouthed, as Blair played out one of his dearest fantasies in front of him. "It's a sports bra. Very soft."
"It... it looks soft," Jim agreed lowly.
Blair toyed with the clip hidden discreetly behind the rose, and then unhooked it, letting the two sides part but leaving the cups still in place. Busy fingers resumed their stroking, finding peaked nipples and pinching at them lightly through the material.
"Not as soft as you, though," Jim continued, gently reaching out and peeling the cups back. Blair reached for him but Jim took his hands, looking his lover in the eyes as he lifted Blair's hands and laid them gently back on his own bare breasts.
"Jim?" Blair whispered, eyes inquiring. Understanding dawned, and he stroked himself again, circling one nipple lightly with just the tip of his finger. "You want me to..."
"Touch yourself for me," Jim urged throatily. "Ever since the first time you told me you touched yourself, I've been fantasising about it."
"You should have told me," Blair chided softly. He raised one hand and languidly licked his finger, running his tongue up one side and down the other.
Jim felt a tightening in his belly, passion spiking in his gut.
Blair circled his nipple again with the moist finger, leaving it gleaming wet. "Where else should I touch myself?" he asked, flags of colour on his cheeks, languid excitement in his eyes.
Swallowing hard, Jim shifted back a little, running his hands over the check pants. Finding the waistband he hesitated, looking back up at Blair, who smiled down at him. Jim unbuttoned the fly, then grasped the waistband and tugged.
Lifting his hips Blair allowed Jim to pull the pants off him, leaving him in only panties and white socks. He stayed Jim's hand as it stroked the soft cotton material of his pants.
"I don't know if I can do that in front of you," he revealed shyly.
Jim leaned over, laying a gentle kiss on the sexy plump mound of Blair's belly. "Don't ever do anything you don't want to do, baby," he whispered against the silky skin.
"I'm sorry," Blair said, leaning over agilely and laying a kiss atop Jim's head. "Maybe some time," he promised huskily. But I'm glad you told me what you fantasised, Jim."
"Yeah?" Jim asked, a little worried he'd put Blair on the spot. A thought occurred to him and he grinned wickedly. "Maybe you have a fantasy you'd like to share?"
Now Blair's cheeks were a bright scarlet, and he hid his face in Jim's neck.
Jim chuckled softly, holding Blair against him tenderly.
"I'll share another fantasy with you, baby," he whispered. "One of my favourites."
He kissed his way down over Blair's belly, scooting back and gently spreading his thighs apart. Blowing lightly over the fabric covered mound he inhaled the sweet scent of Blair's desire, then lightly rubbed his tongue over damp material, pressing just that little bit firmly, drinking in Blair's passionate moan gratefully.
"This is your fantasy?" Blair panted, a sheen of sweat on his brow. His hands were cupping his heaving breasts, thumbs flicking his rosy nipples. "You do this every night!"
"That's why it's my favourite fantasy," Jim explained, quirking a hungry grin. He licked his lips, drawing another groan from his lover. "More?"
Blair widened his eyes incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"
Jim grinned and carefully pulled aside the gusset of Blair's little floral panties. "Yeah," he agreed, bending his head.
********
"Hello," Jim said absently into the phone.
"Jimmy?"
"Steven," Jim said in surprised delight. "Good to hear your voice. Still in Japan?"
"No, as a matter of fact I'm standing in Cascade Airport."
Focusing his hearing briefly Jim automatically confirmed this, hearing the muffled babble of announcements over the airport tannoy down the line.
"You're home for good then?"
"Flying visit," Steven explained. "I was hoping to spend some time with my big bro while I'm here. How are you fixed for dinner?"
"Free as a bird," Jim confirmed, fiddling absently with his paperweight. "What d'you have in mind?"
"Dinner, a strip club," Steven said mildly. "Maybe round the night off at a bordello."
"I never should have told you they tape the incoming calls in the station now," Jim groaned. "The dinner part sounds good though."
"Great," Steven enthused still chuckling. "Oh, and bring Blair if you like."
"Blair's away on sabbatical," Jim explained, wondering briefly at the unenthusiastic tone of the invitation for Blair. "I have a new lodger right now."
"Bring him along then," Steven said cheerfully. "I have to go, the batteries are running low on this damn phone. How about Vittelli's at eight?"
"Sounds good, Jim agreed. He hung up, tapping the phone in agitation. What had possessed him, mentioning B.J to Steven? The last thing he wanted to do was introduce the new Blair to his brother.
Not that he had any objections to them meeting, not really. It was just... Jim groped for and answer, trying to examine his feelings. Why didn't he want the pair of them to meet?
********
"Well, that counts as one of the worst experiences of my life," Blair announced, slamming the front door closed behind him. "Never again, that's all I can say."
"What's the verdict?" Jim asked. "I knew I should have gone with you."
"And do what? Sit in the waiting room while I go through one of the most embarrassing experiences humanly possible?"
"I was thinking emotional support," Jim defended. He stood up and followed Blair to his bedroom, where he was kicking off shoes and unbuttoning his shirt. "Well?"
"I'm clear," Blair informed him. "No cysts, no tumours." He grinned wryly. "No alien baby."
"Thank god," Jim said fervently, leaning against the doorjamb and watching with interest as Blair undressed down to his underwear and pulled on baggy sweats. "What size are they?" he said curiously.
"Comfortable," Blair retorted.
"The romance is gone," Jim said mournfully.
"No, Jim, the romance was gone the last time I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night and found out the hard way you'd left the toilet seat up. Again." Blair smirked as he pushed past him into the kitchen.
"You lost your sense of humour with your balls, Blair," Jim shot back.
Blair turned a raised brow on him. "You want to hear something funny, Jim? One word. Stirrups."
"Ew." Jim made a face. "What did she do?"
"Jim, she scraped things I didn't even know I had."
"Gross," Jim said, putting his beer down. He placed a hand on his stomach. "I think I'm sorry I asked."
"Some of the results will take a few days, but she doesn't think there's any problems. She even did an ultrasound."
"So, we're back to the first theory then?"
Blair rubbed his brow thoughtfully. "Actually, she had a theory of her own. She said it's possible I might be going through menopause."
"At thirty?" Jim asked incredulously.
"Apparently it happens," Blair shrugged. "Anyway, obviously she doesn't know all the facts, but maybe she's onto something. I have one year as a woman, and like a woman I've had fertile cycles. Now that's over, maybe it is a kind of menopause."
"Whatever you want to call it," Jim said thoughtfully. "Women can get pregnant during menopause, can't they?"
"If they still get the occasional period," Blair said, helping himself to a beer and popping the top. "A fact she was at pains to stress to me." He chugged a mouthful, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She seemed to think I might want to run out and get knocked up before it was too late."
Jim wandered back to the living room and collapsed on the couch. "I suppose if you were a normal thirty year old childless woman facing menopause, that might seem like a good idea."
Blair followed him, sitting back in an armchair, legs sprawled comfortably. "Yeah," he agreed. He took another swallow of beer and stared down the bottles neck broodingly. "I suppose it might."
Jim's attention focused on something in Blair's voice. He sat forward. "But you're not," he said deliberately. "A normal woman I mean."
Blair looked up absently. "Hm?"
"What's in that fluffy head of yours?" Jim said suspiciously.
"I'm thinking, if Jim keeps patronising me, he's sleeping alone tonight," Blair said brightly.
"Come on, Chief, don't be obtuse. What are you thinking?"
Blair snorted. "Nothing interesting. I was just wondering what it would have been like, you know?"
Jim sat back in his chair. "That's what I thought you were thinking."
"Well face it, Jim. How many men ever had the opportunity I had?"
"How many men want it?" Jim said dubiously.
"You might be surprised," Blair said gloomily. "I just feel like I've let a unique opportunity slip through my fingers, that's all."
"Of course you only say this now that the opportunity is gone," Jim pointed out. "When you first realised it was a possibility, I seem to remember you singing a different tune. Something about keeping your legs crossed for the next year?"
"Okay, okay," Blair waved a hand dismissively. "How did I ever end up with a friend who has perfect recall?"
"Not perfect," Jim returned. "It's just those particular words are branded on my brain."
Blair's brooding expression lightened a little. "Made an impression did they?"
"You could say that. Are you sorry you're not pregnant, Chief?"
"No, of course not," Blair said automatically. Then he paused, frowning thoughtfully. One hand came up and rested on his belly. "No," he said more slowly. "Maybe I just feel as if I ought to be sorry, you know."
"Not really," Jim said honestly. "The thought of you being pregnant is enough to make my brain melt."
Blair waggled his brows. "Look at it from my point of view. What about the thought of you pregnant."
Jim mimed himself melting into his seat, finally collapsing on the floor. Giggling, Blair leapt on top of him.
"Oof," Jim huffed, catching a narrow ribcage between his hands. He straightened his arms, holding Blair aloft above him, "Don't get comfortable up there, Chief. We're going out tonight."
Blair flapped his arms and legs playfully. "We are?"
"Steven called," Jim panted.
"We're going to Japan?"
"No, Vittelli's." Jim lowered Blair on top of him, deciding he needed to spend less time in the sack and more in the gym.
Blair squirmed atop him and Jim spread his thighs, letting the young woman settle between them.
Hmm, Jim thought. What did he ever see in the gym anyway?
********
"You nervous about something?" Blair said curiously, slipping his feet into low blue slippers. They matched his dress perfectly, Jim thought, absently admiring them.
"Nervous?"
"You've been jumping around for an hour. Did Steven say anything when he called?"
"No." Jim smoothed down the front of his grey suit. "Did Megan pick out that dress?"
"No, Jim, I picked it out myself. I do have some taste you know." Blair looked down self consciously. "Why? Don't you like it?"
"It looks great," Jim said honestly. "You look good in whatever you wear, Chief."
Blair wrinkled his nose in a characteristic gesture of pleasure. "Thanks."
"Although I have to admit I'm glad you got some new stuff for the station. People kept saying how similar to Blair's taste yours was. I was terrified someone was going to notice they were the same clothes."
"Some did," Blair said carelessly. "I just told 'em Blair left some stuff behind." His eyes twinkled behind his round glasses. "You know my wonderful cousin wouldn't mind me borrowing his stuff."
"You're too casual sometimes," Jim accused.
"What do you think's gonna happen, Jim? Someone sees me wearing Blair's favourite plaid shirt and immediately jumps to the conclusion that he must have changed sex? Lighten up."
"I think I preferred you with mood swings," Jim muttered.
"I'll remind you of that if I get them back," Blair called.
"Heard from Naomi?" Jim asked in the truck.
Blair gathered his coat closer around him, shivering in the cool October air, despite the heater blaring away. "Yeah, she called this afternoon to see how my appointment went. Caught me on the way out of the doctor's office."
"Naomi's perfect timing," Jim marveled. "Sometimes I think she's the psychic one. What did she have to say?"
"She loves the resort. And you'll never guess, they offered her a job, teaching meditation."
"Naomi?" Jim said, stunned. "With a job?"
Blair nodded his understanding. "And you thought me changing into a woman was weird."
********
Steven couldn't take his eyes off B.J.
And Jim finally figured out why he hadn't wanted them to meet.
********
"So, B.J," Steven said smoothly. "What does that stand for anyway?"
"Nothing," Blair said with amusement. "That's my name. B.J."
"How cute," Steven said, smiling right into wide blue eyes.
Jim considered gagging at the studiedly attentive gaze his little brother was adopting. Even a real women would see through that, surely, let alone one who had until recently been a man. And a man who had been quite a Don Juan in his time too.
But Blair looked like he was eating it up with a spoon, answering Steven's questions, smiling and laughing at his annoying jokes.
Jim pushed his plate away, losing his appetite.
"So, Steven," Jim said briskly. "How is Japan?"
Steven looked away from Blair reluctantly. "Well, I don't like the food," he joked charmingly. "I still can't seem to pick up the language. And most of the people I work with really hate me."
"But none of them have actually tried to kill you yet." Jim sipped his wine thoughtfully. "That's gotta be a nice change."
Steven stuck a tongue in his cheek. "You seem to be in quite a mood tonight, Jimmy."
Jim settled for a grunt.
"I know," Steven exclaimed. "Let's go dancing! That will cheer you up." He turned to Blair. "What do you think, B.J?"
Blair glanced over at Jim, then smiled and turned back to Steven. "I think it's been a long day," Blair said apologetically.
"And I don't need cheering up," Jim said sourly.
"Come on," Steven coaxed. "It's my only night in Cascade. Let's go dancing. Anywhere you like. As long as they don't have karaoke," he added hastily.
"It has been a while since I've danced," Blair said, glancing at Jim again. "I remember I really enjoyed it that time."
Jim felt his sour mood lighten a little as he exchanged a small grin with Blair. "I guess a little while wouldn't hurt."
"Outstanding!" Steven said jovially. He gestured for the bill and Jim sat back and let him.
********
"She's really something, Jimmy," Steven said, as Blair disappeared off to the powder room. "A vast improvement on your last room mate."
"What?" Jim asked in surprise, turning his attention from Blair's eminently watchable back view.
"I have to say, I was surprised when you introduced us, exchanging one Sandburg for another, as it were."
"What did you say about Blair?"
"Come on, Jimmy. I never made any secret of the fact that I didn't like the kid."
Jim turned to face his brother more fully. "Well, it's news to me."
Steven sipped his drink and watched the dancers on the nightclub floor. "No offence, bro. I just didn't like the way the kid was sponging off you."
"Blair did not sponge off me," Jim said firmly, keeping an eye out for the young woman's return. The last thing he wanted to do was let Blair overhear Steven's spitefulness. "He has always paid his own way."
"Right," Steven laughed cynically.
"Right," Jim repeated with deadly force.
Steven spread his hands apologetically. "Hey, like I said, no offence. Maybe it's just my personal prejudice showing," he continued. "I just don't like his type."
"Type?"
"Yeah, all long hair and attitude, no drive, no ambition. Full of academic pith and vinegar, demanding and receiving respect because of a few letters after his name. While guys like me, with real ambition, with the drive to make money, are despised. Everyone wants to be around the money men, but they're all quick to turn their backs when it suits them."
Jim watched his little brother curiously. "You're right," he said slowly. "It is your personal prejudice showing."
Steven froze, glass at his lips. He put it down slowly on the table. "You know, you have been on my back all evening, and I think I know why. It's B.J isn't it? You're doing her."
"And I think you've had too much to drink after a long flight," Jim said in disgust.
Steven was shaking his head and laughing. "That's it, isn't it? Well, they say there's no fool like an old fool, and they're right."
"Put it sock in it, Steven," Jim said, pulling out his wallet to pay the tab. It was time to put an end to this evening.
"So the Sandburgs still have you on the hook, they just exchanged the bait. Or are all those other rumours true, were you doing Blair as well?"
"Enough," Jim said abruptly, getting to his feet. He glanced over to see Blair standing next to him, eyes solemn. "We're going home."
Steven swallowed when he saw Blair, climbing to his feet unsteadily. "I... I'm sorry, B.J," he stuttered, putting a hand to his head. "Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come dancing."
Jim turned to leave, pausing at Blair's hand on his arm. "Jim, we can't just leave him here," he said quietly. "He's drunk and jet lagged."
Jim turned and surveyed his swaying brother with disgust. "Damnit," he swore.
Half an hour later Jim was opening his brother's hotel room with a keycard, and half dragging him inside. Blair was waiting in the car at his order.
"I'm sorry, Jim," Steven said, collapsing back on the couch. He rubbed his face roughly. "I didn't mean half the things I said."
"It doesn't matter," Jim said evenly. "Do you want some help getting out of your clothes?"
Steven's lips twisted. "No, I don't want any help," he said sarcastically. "So you can turn around and walk out of that door like you always do."
Jim clenched his jaw, not in the mood to listen to more of his brother's whining.
"Go!" Steven yelled. "I should have known you wouldn't give a damn about me and my problems!"
Sighing, Jim sat down. "I'm sorry about your problems, Steven," he said honestly. "But why not just tell me about them? Why get drunk and attack Blair?"
"Blair," Steven spat. "I don't give a shit about Blair. In fact, I feel sorry for him. Is he really on sabbatical, Jim? Or did he just make a mistake like the rest of us? Did you throw him out of your life just like you did Mom and Dad and me? Maybe I should be warning that kid downstairs that it's one strike and you're out with Detective Jim Ellison."
"This is ancient history, Steven," Jim said wearily.
"It's happening right now," Steven corrected him. "Blair you couldn't do enough for, while I was left to sink or swim after that racetrack mess. Do you think I like being transferred out to the Far Eastern office? Do you think that's a plum job?"
"You only had to ask me for help," Jim began.
"Did Blair have to ask for help? I'm your brother!" Steven yelled, hitting his own chest with a clenched fist.
Jim stood. "This can wait until you're sober," he said sadly. "And Steven? If you hate your job so much, find another."
********
"I'm sorry, Jim," Blair said softly as they drove home. "I know you've really been trying to patch things up with your family over the last couple of years."
"That kid is messed up," Jim said grimly. You should have heard the crap he was coming out with. And you didn't help," he said, shooting Blair a sharp glance. "Do you think it's possible for you to meet a man and not flirt with him?"
"I was being polite," Blair said squarely. "Because he's your brother. If you see flirtation in that, it's not my problem."
"Come on, Blair. If you'd batted your eyelids any faster you'd have blown the candle in the centrepiece out."
Blair shook his head. "I'll ignore that, because I know you're upset right now."
"Don't do me any favours," Jim muttered bad temperedly.
"Do really think I'd waste my time flirting with someone who doesn't even like me? I mean Blair?"
Jim glanced his way, seeing sincerity in those blue eyes, hearing it in his voice. "You heard what Steven was saying?"
"Not much," Blair shrugged. "But he's never really made any secret of the fact that he doesn't like me."
"That's what he said," Jim exclaimed. "Am I the only one who never saw it?"
"Probably," Blair said, warm humour in his voice.
"I had no idea," Jim grumped, unwilling to let his bad temper go so easily.
"I always figured he was jealous. We had the brotherly thing going that he'd missed out on all those years."
Jim digested that, comparing it to what Steven had said earlier. He finally shook his head, pulling into his parking spot in front of the loft. "What a waste of energy," he sighed. "Like there isn't room in my life for both of you."
"Well, he won't have to worry soon," Blair said matter-of-factly. "I don't know what's gonna happen to us when the year's out, but I doubt we'll go back to being brotherly anytime soon."
Jim shut the motor off, staring out over the steering wheel into the dark streets. Right now, in the midst of all this, it was hard to even remember those days when he'd felt like Blair's big brother.
"Jim?" Blair said softly. "Do you still miss him?"
Jim turned to Blair, reaching out one hand to snag a tight curl that drooped fetchingly over his brow. He understood instantly what Blair meant. "You are him," he said softly. Sincerely. "Still Blair. A him with a her attitude."
"And boobs that won't quit," Blair returned, eyebrows waggling. With a giggle he pushed open the door and jumped out.
Jim stayed in his seat a moment longer, feeling the lingering sadness of the evening. Then Blair was leaning in his side of the window, bussing a kiss on his cheek, changing it into a raspberry at the last moment.
"Little rat," Jim chuckled, locking the car and chasing the fleeting shadow into the lift.
End of Part Thirteen.
|
