Work Text:
Rule One:
If you pull up outside the building and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.
Jim paused in his path from the refrigerator to the counter and cocked an ear. There it was again, the sound of a horn honking outside the building. A turn of the dials confirmed that it was Blair's date for the evening. Jim would have recognized the smell of that cologne anywhere - it smelled like cheap booze. He winced as the horn sounded again and glanced towards the closed bedroom door where Blair was still deciding which shirt to wear. What kind of creep was Blair dating that the guy couldn't even come upstairs to get him like a proper date?
A fourth toot of the horn sent him for the phone, his jaw muscles clenched tightly.
"Dispatch? This is Detective Ellison. There appears to be a drunken motorist disturbing the peace at 857 Prospect - could you send over a squad car before the man drives off and possibly endangers lives as well? Thanks."
Jim continued his preparations for dinner, nodding briefly as Blair emerged from his room, grabbed his keys and headed out the door. A few minutes later, Blair came back in, a puzzled look on his face.
"Something wrong, Chief?" Jim asked blandly.
"I don't understand it," Blair said, frowning. "The impound people were just towing off Dave's car - said he was arrested for drunk and disorderly."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The guy said that Dave was cussing out the officer, claiming that he wasn't drunk and then he took a swing at the man." Blair sighed and shook his head. "And I always thought he was a serious type of guy. Just goes to show that you never really know a person, right?"
"If you say so, Sandburg." Jim split the stir-fry he was cooking into two portions and handed a plate to Blair.
Rule Two:
You do not touch my Guide in front of me. You may glance at him, so long as you do not peer at anything below his neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my Guide's body, I will remove them.
Jim poured a cup of coffee and looked over at the man standing in his living room, devouring Blair with his eyes. And Jim had to admit that Sandburg was worth looking at, but you'd think the man would have the decency not to visually undress a man in front of his room- mate.
"Ready?" Blair asked, crossing the room with a warm smile for his date.
"Been ready all night," the "date" said, putting his arm around Blair's waist and resting his palm on Blair's backside.
"Chief, it's supposed to rain later tonight and the temperature's going to drop," Jim said, putting his mug in the microwave and pressing a button. "You'd better grab your warm jacket - I hung it in your closet earlier."
Blair beamed at Jim. "Thanks, man!" He looked at his date. "I'll only be a minute, Tim."
Jim removed the mug from the microwave with a hot pad and set it on the counter, then fetched another mug. "It'll be at least fifteen minutes - I've seen his room," he told Tim. "Coffee?"
"Thanks," Tim said, and reached for the mug on the counter...
Blair smiled at his roommate as he came back into the waiting room at the hospital. "Thanks for waiting, Jim."
"Least I could do," Jim said with a shrug. "How's the burns on your friend's hands?"
Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes to big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my Guide, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.
Blair looked up from where he was kneeling next to his date, now stretched out on the living room floor, unconscious. "What happened, Jim?"
Jim shrugged. "Hell if I know, Chief. One moment we were discussing what passes for college fashion these days while waiting for you to finish getting ready, and I offered to show him a way to keep those trousers from falling off. I stood up to fetch a belt from my room and he took a nose-dive on the floor. Must be some kind of medical condition."
He carefully set down his nail gun on the cabinet he was assembling. "You might think twice about going out with this guy, Sandburg - what if that happened while he was driving?"
Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "Barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.
The young man sitting on the couch gave another look over at the closed door to Blair's room and then back at the man sitting in the chair across from Jonathon. The man that was watching him like a hawk, as if reading every single thought, every single intention running through his mind. Jonathon nervously licked his lips and cleared his throat.
"So, Mr. Ellison," he said, attempting to break the silence. "Blair hasn't said much about you - what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a cop," he said smoothly.
"A - a cop?" Jonathon was too nervous to be embarrassed about the way his voice squeaked at the end. "Really? How - how interesting. What - um - "
"Major Crimes," Jim said, leaning forward. "But I spent a lot of years in Vice, and I learned a lot of interesting things. Like -did you know that there's only one sure-fire way to prevent the spread of venereal diseases and AIDS? I'm not talking about safe sex with condoms -I'm talking about the safest sex."
"Um - really?" Jonathon stuttered, feeling his face flush. "I thought the only totally safe sex was abstinence."
Jim smiled, and it was a smile that displayed all his teeth. Jonathon swallowed; it somehow reminded him of a predator waiting to tear out his throat. "I see we understand each other 100 percent..."
Jim looked up at the sound of keys rattling in the door and watched as his roommate stomped into the loft. Sentinel eyes and nose quickly appraised the Guide and determined that, although the hair was mussed and the clothes slightly disordered, there was no sign or smell of sex on the younger man. There was, however, a strong sense of frustration. Jim smiled.
Blair stomped into his room and reappeared a few minutes later, minus the top layer of his clothes, heading for the bathroom. He gave Jim a very pointed glare that dared him to say anything about the hour of the night or hot water just before slamming the bathroom door shut.
Jim's smile widened.
Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my Guide safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: "Early."
>The young man sitting on the couch cleared his throat and glanced at
the clock, wondering how soon it would be before Blair was ready to leave.
He glanced over at the man sitting on the chair, watching him like a
hawk.
"So, Mr. - um - Detective Ellison...what do you think about the Jags' chances this season?"
Jim leaned forward. "Look, whatever your name is - "
"Mark."
"Mark. I don't want to discuss the Jags' season. I don't want to discuss the plane in China, or the cows in Europe. I don't even want to discuss the weather. What I want to discuss is what time I can expect you to bring Sandburg home this evening."
Mark blinked. "Excuse me?"
Jim sighed. "Okay, I'm going to put this in words of one syllable. What. Time. Will. Blair. Be. Home?"
"Detective, forgive me, but I fail to see what business of yours it is."
"Let me put it this way," Jim said, leaning forward, putting on his 'reasonable' expression, the one that had been known to make hardened criminals tremble in terror. "Sandburg is my partner, and you may have heard how protective cops get about their partners. So if
Sandburg's not home at what I consider a reasonable hour, I might have to go looking for him. And I might have to call in some departmental assistance to locate him."
Mark blanched at the thought of police cars pulling up outside his exclusive condominium community, sirens blaring.
"So - what time can I expect you to bring Sandburg home this evening?"
"Early. Definitely early."
Jim sat back in his chair with a smile. "Good answer."
Jim looked up as Blair came through the door and dumped his keys in the basket. "Hey, Chief. Home early, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Mark has an early morning meeting so we decided to make an early night of it." He hung up his coat and wandered over to the couch, flopping down on it with a discontented sigh. "Whatcha watching?"
Jim catalogued his Guide's scents and smiled to himself. "The game. Jags are up by 2 points, doing pretty good tonight." He held out the popcorn bowl. "So, what do you think of their chances this season?"
Rule Six:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my Guide: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my Guide to wear shorts, tank tops, or anything other than a goose down parka-- zipped up to his throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Basketball games are okay. Old folks homes are better.
"So, where are you taking Sandburg this evening?"
Blair's date for the evening - this one named Pete something - and wasn't it odd how Sandburg never seemed to have a second date with any of these guys? - gave Jim a nervous look.
"I - um - I was thinking of that new restaurant at the Summit hotel."
Jim frowned. Restaurants were okay, but a restaurant in a hotel? A relaxed dinner with a few drinks...and a convenient room with beds far too close by for Jim's comfort. "I don't know about that place. Overpriced and stuffy isn't exactly Sandburg's preference."
Pete nodded, obviously eager to get some good advice for his date with Blair. "Well, what about Marcelli's?"
Marcelli's - good food, killer atmosphere. Dark and romantic, where handholding and a stolen kiss or two wouldn't be noticed..."I heard that the place was being going to be closed for health violations. What about Arnie's? Sandburg loves the food and beer there."
Pete blinked, obviously not considering a loud sports bar as the appropriate place for a date, and said doubtfully, "If you think he'd like it better..."
"I'm positive. Sit out on the patio if possible - Sandburg doesn't get nearly enough fresh air."
"But isn't it a little cold out there this time of year?"
Jim shrugged. "You got warm jackets, right? And where were you thinking about going after dinner?"
"The movies."
Jim quickly cast his thoughts over the features playing at the local megaplex. "Yeah? Which one?"
"I was thinking about either 'Moulin Rouge' or 'The Mummy Returns'. What do you think?"
Jim immediately started shaking his head. If he knew his Blair - and he did - watching that archeologist chase around the desert would get his blood pounding and his juices flowing. And as for the other movie - Blair had a serious jones for the lead actor in it and would be bound to nail anything after watching him for two hours. "Nah, musicals aren't his thing, and he gets enough of mummies and such at work. What he'd really like is one of those action-adventure movies - you know, with lots of violence and shoot 'em up scenes - 'Exit Wounds' would be a good choice."
Pete looked even more doubtful but bowed to Jim's greater knowledge. "Maybe a movie wouldn't be a good idea. There's a Jags game - "
Jim seriously considered that. After all, a sports arena was noisy, well-lit, not in the least way geared towards romance. On the other hand, all that frenzied enthusiasm and liberated testosterone would have to be worked off someway. Besides, Jim thought of going to games with Blair as being "their thing", and he disliked the idea of any one else muscling in on it.
"You know what Blair would really enjoy? Spending the evening at Shady Grove."
"The retirement home?" Pete asked, startled.
"Yeah. You know Blair - how he always thinks about others, likes to do things for other people? If you showed him that you felt the same way - well, that would be a big plus for you, romantically speaking."
"Shady Grove," Pete repeated, dubiously, the look on his face indicating that he was beginning to wonder if Blair Sandburg was worth this.
Jim smiled and patted the other man on the back. "Trust me. You'll have an evening you'll never forget."
Blair entered the loft and threw his keys down in the basket in disgust. He stomped over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, draining it and tossing it in the recycling bin before pulling out another and heading over to the couch.
"Bad date, Chief?" Jim asked sympathetically.
"I can not seriously remember the last time I was on such a lame date," Blair groused, collapsing at his end of the couch. "First, he took me to Arnie's - it was so loud, I could barely hear what he was saying. And he insisted that we sit on the patio and I nearly froze my ass off. I had to keep my jacket zipped up the entire time. Then he took me to see 'Exit Wounds' - can you imagine? I tried to convince him to go see something else but he was sure I would like it. Then he suggested that we go to Shady Grove instead of back to his place - as if the people there haven't been in bed for hours."
Blair took a swig of his beer. "Y'know, Jim, all my dates lately have been total disasters. I'm getting to think that I've been, I don't know, jinxed."
"I'm sure it's nothing of the sort, Chief."
"Yeah, well, another disaster like this and I just may give up dating."
Jim smiled.
Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my Guide to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My Guide is doing his hair, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
The man waiting in the hallway for Blair looked at his watch for the third time since arriving about a half hour ago. He had introduced himself as Franklin, had politely declined coffee, and also declined to talk. Jim wondered if Blair's dates were comparing notes, then decided that the guy was just a jerk.
"Blair, we're going to be late!"
"Just a few more minutes!" Blair's voice called back from the bathroom.
"We've got tickets, Blair - and they cost me a fortune!"
"Be right there!"
Franklin looked over at Jim, frustrated. "Is he always like this?"
"Like what?" Jim asked. "Oh, late, you mean?" Jim shrugged. "This isn't late. An hour or two, that's late. This is just running a little behind."
"So what do you do?"
"Well, I used to set his clock a couple hours ahead, but he caught on, so now I just find something else to do while I'm waiting. Like cleaning. Or working on my car." He smiled over at Franklin, taking in the pristine suit. "I got oil that needs changing and brakes that should be relined. Want to help?"
Franklin gave him a withering look.
Rule Eight:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the street for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my Guide home. As soon as you pull up to the building, you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my Guide home safely and early, then return to your car -- there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.
Blair burst into the loft, slamming his keys into the basket and dumping his backpack on the floor with a blatant disregard for the House Rules.
"All right, Jim, I think you've gone a little bit too far this time," he snapped.
Jim looked up from the table where he was disassembling and cleaning his new weapon. From across the room, Simon, Rafe and Henry were pointedly not paying attention to the two of them, concentrating on cleaning their own weapons. And all were totally disregarding the blobs of paint that liberally marked their camo clothing and skin.
"What?" Jim asked innocently. "We were just having a little fun."
Blair glared. "Surrounding my date's car and demanding that he release his prisoner was not just having a little fun! Jeff nearly had a heart attack!"
"They're just paint guns," Jim said, as if talking to a child. "They can't hurt anyone."
"Which we had no way in hell of knowing! The man thought you were insane - he threatened to call the police! And when he heard that you were the police - I had to tell him that it was a Hostage Rescue drill to keep him from calling the major!"
He waved a warning finger under Jim's nose. "I'm warning you, Ellison - fuck with my dates just one more time, and you'll regret it! And you know I can make you very, very sorry. You thought the sage was bad? Just try pushing me one more time!"
Blair slammed back out of the apartment, and Simon gave Jim a "what now, you big jerk" look.
"He's bluffing," Jim said, reassuringly.
"I don't know, Jim," Henry said, shaking his head. "The kid sounded pretty serious."
"Look, why don't you just date him yourself?" Rafe asked reasonably, then cringed slightly as three irate glares were directed at him. "What? It's the perfect solution! Jim doesn't want anyone to hurt Blair, and if he's with Blair, no one else would have a chance."
Simon nodded slowly. "You know, Jim, he's got a point. You might want to consider it."
Jim snorted. "I don't think I'm Blair's type. All these guys he's dating are young and smart and have all their hair and they're young - "
"You ain't exactly dead, big guy," Henry pointed out.
"Yeah," Rafe added. "Take a look in a mirror sometime. You are totally hot." He flushed again as three surprised looks came his way. "What? Just because I don't shop in that store doesn't mean I don't know what quality merchandize looks like."
"Rafe, I almost understood that sentence - and that worries me," Simon said, then turned back to his friend. "Well, Jim? You going to try it, or are you going to keep eating your heart out like this?"
Jim sighed. "Do I have any choice, Simon?"
Rule Nine:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other guys. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my Guide. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my Guide, you will continue to date no one but him until he is finished with you. If you make him cry, I will make you cry.
Jim was seriously worried. Blair had been dating this guy for a month now, and nothing Jim had tried could throw the other man off the trail. Patrick. And - seeing the glow on Blair's face - Jim didn't have the heart to interfere any longer. Because, no matter how much he loved and wanted Blair, he wanted Blair's happiness even more.
He pulled into the parking lot at Rainier to pick Blair up for lunch and then an afternoon at the station. As he got out of the truck, he saw Patrick heading down the walkway, then saw him smile widely and wave. Jim looked around, expecting to see Blair. Instead, he saw a gorgeous young blond boy-toy heading towards Patrick. Incredulous, he watched the two men hug and kiss, then they went off towards Patrick's car with his arm the boy-toy's waist.
He was still standing beside his truck when Blair came running up, puffing from having run all the way from his office. "Sorry I'm late, man. I had someone come into my office at the last minute needing help with references for her paper, and then I couldn't find my office keys to lock up."
"No problem, Chief," Jim said absently, getting into the truck and starting the engine. He backed the truck out of the parking lot and headed towards their favorite deli. Blair was going on a mile-a- minute about something that had happened in class that day but Jim barely heard him. "Um - Chief?"
Blair paused, interrupted in mid-sentence, but he was used to that after all these years. "Yeah, Jim?"
"You still seeing that Patrick guy?"
"Of course I am. We've got a date tomorrow night, as a matter of fact. Why?"
"No reason." He was quiet for a few minutes. "You're still dating other people though, right?"
"No, I'm not. Come on, Jim, you know that I might not be the most consistent of people, but I only date one person at a time. No screwing around on the side for me."
"And this guy - Patrick. He's not seeing anyone else either?"
"Of course not! We both agreed to be exclusive after the first week. Why?" Blair asked suspiciously.
"No reason. Just - you know - curious."
"Okay." Blair studied him intently, and Jim made his face as bland as he knew how. When Blair turned his attention back out the window and picked up the thread of his earlier story, Jim blew out a relieved breath. Blair's suspicions were allayed for the moment, and that was all he needed.
That, and a chance to talk to Patrick face to face.
Rule Ten:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my Guide, I am the allknowing, merciless God of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a gun, a shovel, and five acres behind a friend's cabin in the woods. Do not trifle with me.
Patrick was in his office the next morning when Jim went by after dropping Blair off and making sure that he would be busy teaching class for the next hour. The good-looking young man looked up when Jim entered the office and smiled.
"Detective Ellison! What a surprise - are you looking for Blair? I believe he's in class right now - "
Jim closed the office door and flipped the lock. "I know exactly where Sandburg is right now. I'm more concerned with where you were - say yesterday, right about noon."
Patrick stood up stiffly. "I don't see what business that is of yours - unless this is a police matter."
"No, it's a personal matter, and it's my business because Sandburg is my friend and I don't want to see him hurt." Jim leaned on the desk, his steely blue eyes locked on Patrick's. "He thinks that the two of you are dating exclusively. Is that what you think?"
Patrick looked away with a forced laugh. "Of course. I wouldn't do anything to hurt Blair."
Jim came around the corner of the desk, and the younger man's eyes widened. "Don't lie to me!" he snarled, backing the man towards the wall. "I know when you are lying and trust me, you don't want to do that."
"Is that a threat, Detective?" Patrick asked breathlessly.
"That's a promise, asshole, and one you can believe," Jim said grimly. "Now you have one chance, and only one chance, to tell me the truth. Are you screwing around behind Blair's back?" Patrick's eyes dropped away and Jim gave him a disgusted look. "I thought so." He leaned in closer and could feel the fear rolling off the other man. "Break it off with Blair. I don't care how you do it, what you say, except that you take full responsibility for it. If you make him cry, you'll pay for every tear. Do you hear me?"
"I hear you," Patrick said hoarsely.
"Good." Jim stepped back, and heard the shaky sigh of relief from the other man. He crossed to the door and unlocked it, then opened it and walked out without looking back.
Jim was just pulling the lasagna out of the oven when Blair walked into the loft and quietly set his keys in the basket, hung up his jacket and set his backpack out of the way. Jim surreptitiously checked his partner's vital signs and determined that - aside from the unusual subdued look - Blair seemed to be okay. He didn't catch the scent of tears on the other man, for which he was grateful.
"Hey, Chief," he said. "You staying home for dinner tonight? I made lasagna."
"Sounds great, man," Blair said. He leaned against the counter, drawing circles on the surface with his finger. "I won't be going out later, either," he said. "Patrick and I broke up."
"Oh?" Jim asked. He pulled out plates and glasses and carried them over to the table.
"Yeah. He - um - he admitted that he'd been seeing other people, said that it wasn't me, just that he couldn't, you know, commit to one person at a time."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Chief," Jim said sincerely.
Blair shrugged. "No big deal. I mean, we were just dating. It wasn't like we were in love or anything." He looked over at Jim, watching the other man fussing with the table setting. "You knew, didn't you? That's why you were asking me all those questions yesterday. What - you smelled someone else on him?"
"Something like that," Jim admitted. He drew a deep breath as he set the pan of lasagna on the table. "Look, Chief - Blair. I know that this has been rough on you, no matter how easily you seem to be handling it. I just want you to know that I'm here for you."
Blair looked at Jim, surprised, as he took his seat at the table. "Thanks, Jim. That means a lot to me."
Jim nodded, sitting down across from Blair. "And the best thing to do is not to sit around moping, so what do you say we go out after dinner? I've got tickets to the Jags game tonight - Simon got a comp pair but he couldn't use them."
Blair perked up at that, grinning. "Sounds great!"
Jim picked up his fork and toyed with the lasagna on his plate. "And - um - tomorrow night I thought that we could maybe, you know, go out to dinner. Like Marcelli's. And then we could go see that hot new movie-musical, the one with that actor you really like..."
There was dead silence in the loft and Jim risked a look up at his partner's face. Blair was staring at him, a look of total surprise on his face.
"Jim - are you asking me out on a date?"
Jim flushed slightly. "Yeah. Are you accepting?"
A smile crossed Blair's face, and it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. "Yeah. I am."
Jim's own smile appeared, and he took his first real breath of air since Blair had come home. "Good."
"There's one thing you should know, though."
Jim's smile changed into a wary look. "What?"
"I've got this real hard-ass roommate, and I think he's got these rules about the guys I date."
Jim grinned. "I think I can handle him. Anything else I should know?"
"Yeah. I've been thinking about some rules of my own."
Jim nodded cautiously; it seemed only fair. "I won't screw around behind your back, Chief. That's a promise."
"Oh, I know you won't, Jim." Blair got up from the table and moved around to Jim's side, a predatory look on his face that made Jim's eyes widen. "Those aren't the kind of rules that I was thinking about."
"Yeah?" Jim was relieved that the word didn't come out as a squeak, and he let Blair pull him up out of his chair.
"Rule number one - you must touch the Guide. As often as possible. And when you're not touching the Guide, you must be looking at him as if you'd like to be touching him."
Jim wrapped his arms around Blair, sliding his hands down over the firm ass that he'd been longing to caress for what felt like forever. "I think I can manage that."
"Good. Rule number two - sex." Blair leaned forward to nuzzle at Jim's throat and murmured. "There should be no barriers to sex. Any barriers found should be removed as efficiently and expeditiously as possible."
Jim pulled Blair's shirt out of the jeans and slid a hand down into the gap, while the other hand captured Blair's head and turned it up so that he could plunder the mouth he had been dying to taste. He could feel Blair's hand sliding down the front of his jeans, teasing his rapidly hardening cock, and he groaned. "No - no problem, Chief. Any other rules I should know about?"
Blair grinned and drew his head back down for another kiss. "I'll let you know."
Then End