Author's website: http://writingonthewall.slashcity.net/~angelise7/toc.htm
This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only. Original characters Sharrie, Dawn and Chloe belong to me.
'Light My Fire' 2004 Award Nominee for Best Non Jim/Blair Pairing.
Definitely not canon in regards to how a sentinel's senses comes online--you have been warned. Also, young love relationship. James is in high school
This story is a sequel to: Work of Desire, Chapter 17

"Fetch!"

James threw the brand new tennis ball as hard as he could and watched as Jeffrey took a flying leap off the patio and raced after it. The yellow Lab immediately brought the ball back to where the teen was sitting and, dancing back and forth, waited anxiously for his favorite toy to be thrown again. James complied, and as he waited for Jeffrey to reappear he turned his hearing in the direction of the kitchen and listened to Simon puttering around. His lover was fixing their favorite dessert -- hot fudge brownies with ice cream on top.

James tossed Jeffrey's ball one last time before setting his crutches aside and laying claim to the nearest patio chair. Leaning forward and resting his head in his hands, he reflected over the events of the past few days.

His senses had gone crazy on him again, and this time he had nearly met his Maker because of it. Simon luckily had been nearby when James had taken a tumble into the pool, and his swift actions had kept James from drowning. The last thing the teen remembered was catching that sneaky bastard, Blair Sandburg, peeping through the bushes at him and Simon while they sunbathed in the nude.

The whole thing was Blair's fault, James decided with a shake of his head. Simon had finally revealed the true nature of his and Blair's past relationship and had even gone as far as to hint at renewing it. This tidbit of information had sent James into orbit, and he was on the verge of flying the coop when he caught sight of their resident Peeping Tom. Once his gaze locked onto Blair's startling blue eyes, James was lost. The next thing he knew he was lying in Simon's arms, spitting up gallons of chlorinated water.

The trip to the doctor's office to have his soaked cast changed had taken much longer than expected, and Simon's supper invitation to Blair had bit the dust. The following day James had claimed exhaustion, which wasn't too far from the truth. Every time his senses went offline in a major way, it totally wiped him out, mentally and physically. Therefore, he hadn't felt guilty whatsoever when he told Simon he was not up for company. Of course, his never tiring libido had put a lie to that excuse the day after that, and with a sinking feeling in his gut, James had sat in Simon's lap, his ass filled with his lover's monster dick, listening as a second invitation was extended to the longhaired anthropology professor.

All prayers for Blair's early demise had gone unanswered, and James now sat alone on the patio waiting for the arrival of the man who, without a doubt, would spell the end to the one relationship James cherished above all others.

"Penny for your thoughts, Tiger."

James clasped the hands that slid down over his bare chest. "I think with all your money, Si, you can do better than a penny."

Simon laughed as he lowered his head and kissed James' shoulder. "I could, but I want to make sure you love me for me and not for my millions."

James gripped the hand resting over his heart. "I love you, Simon. Never doubt it. No matter what happens. No matter what anyone says. You're the most important person in my life, and no amount of money will change that fact."

Another kiss landed on James' shoulder, and the teen fought hard to silence the sigh of regret that threatened to slip out when Simon pulled away without acknowledging the teen's heartfelt response.

"I'll throw the brownies in the oven the second Blair arrives so that they're piping hot before we smother them with ice cream." The blind artist paused when Jeffrey head-butted him on the thigh, and he chuckled while treating his beloved pet to an enthusiastic head rub. "Hope vanilla's okay with Blair," Simon mused. "He actually prefers chocolate if I remember right. Unfortunately, we forgot to put chocolate ice cream on the shopping list, and Marta did not pick up any when she went to the market this morning."

James hadn't even had the chance to open his mouth before Simon was heading back inside the house whistling a disgustingly happy tune. "Who gives a shit what kind of ice cream the Professor likes," he muttered grumpily. "Those are my brownies. Marta made them for me, and Sandburg ought to be grateful I'm even sharing them with him, much less worry about slapping the right flavor ice cream on top."

Unconsciously rubbing his hand over his heart, James stared unseeingly at the flower bushes that bordered the left side of the patio. Blair would be here in a few minutes, and he was dreading the meeting more than he was willing to admit. Somehow, deep down inside, James knew his relationship with Simon was about to change, and he was pretty positive the change would not be for the good.

Yes, he was physically attracted to the college professor, but that was all there was to it. Blair made his dick hard, but Simon made his heart melt, and in James' book that was what really counted. Sex he could get anywhere, his looks, his body guaranteed that. But love? Love had been denied to him from the moment his mother had walked out the door ten years ago, and he would be damned if he allowed this hippie from Simon's past to rob him of his one sure shot at happiness.

James sat up straight as an idea formed in his mind. Maybe he could eliminate this particular threat to his future by using his old man's connections. Daddy dearest was a major contributor to several of the local universities, and James had no doubt he could convince his father to fund some kind of project that would not only require Blair's expertise but also remove him to the far side of the globe.

Rubbing his hands with glee, James winked at his canine companion. "That's the ticket, Jeffrey. We'll send Mr. Sandburg packing as soon as Dad re---"

"Blair, you know I love you to death. You're Chloe's father, and will forever hold a special place in my heart. But if you start messing with Simon and hurt him or James in any way, shape or form, I'll personally rip your balls off."

James felt his jaw hit the ground upon hearing Sharrie's threat. The plump magazine editor was normally sweet and kind and way more even-tempered than her lifepartner, Dawn. It absolutely shocked James to hear her threaten the father of her child with bodily harm. Closing his eyes, the teenager concentrated for a few seconds and was able to determine that Sharrie and Blair were down by the pool, and he unabashedly continued to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I still love Simon," Blair confessed, "and my life hasn't been worth shit since I left him."

"Well, you should have thought of that before you went hightailing it after that bitch, Alex Barnes. I warned you, Blair," Sharrie reminded her friend. "That woman was trouble with a capital `T' and anyone in their right mind would have given her a wide berth."

"I thought she was my Holy Grail," Blair replied softly.

"Holy Grail? What the hell does that mean?"

"I thought she was the living, breathing proof that sen---"

WHAP!

Rubbing the sore spot on his skull, James looked up and glared at Dawn. "Why the hell did you do that?"

Dawn took a seat next to the high school junior. "You looked like you were in some sort of a trance. Not to mention I've been talking to you for the past few minutes. Did you hear anything I said?"

James ran a hand through his hair and sank lower in his seat. "I was listening to Blair and Sharrie. Listening to that longhaired punk confess how much he still loves my man."

"Sharrie's here already?" Dawn asked while glancing around. "Where? I don't see her."

James pointed to the gravel pathway that led to the pool. "She and Blair are . . . they're right there." Ignoring Dawn's curious stare, James hurriedly pushed back his chair, collected his crutches and prepared to make his escape. His new found determination to face Blair head-on had evaporated the moment he heard the older man's confession of love for Simon. Suddenly James felt insecure, anxious and desperate to be anywhere but where he presently was.

"Umm . . . Dawn, could you let Simon know I went upstairs to study? Got this typing test coming up on Monday, and you know how lousy I am with a keyboard." Setting his crutches under his arms, James decided he could always come downstairs later and snitch a couple of brownies.

Dawn grabbing his wrist thwarted his escape, and James was ready to let the redhead have it when she surprised him with an intuitive whisper. "Simon loves you, James, not Blair."

James refused to meet Dawn's concerned gaze. "Tell that to my heart. It seems to think otherwise."

"Then why don't you stay and fight for Simon? Don't run away like a wimp-ass coward. Show him and Blair who rightfully belongs in that California-size bed upstairs." Dawn tightened her grip. "If you run, James, that leaves the playing field wide open for Blair, and let me tell you what, that man is one smooth talker. Words are his specialty."

Dawn released her hold on James' wrist and leaned back in her chair, crossing her long legs and straightening the short skirt she was wearing before speaking again. "Of course, if you don't really love Simon like you say you do, maybe you should haul ass. Go find some other poor schmuck and break his heart."

Dawn's speech was like a slap in the face for James. It immediately bolstered his flagging determination and with a ruffle of her hair, he leaned down and buffed the slender woman's cheek with a kiss. "Thanks, Red."

Discarding his crutches, James plopped back down in his chair and scooted it as close as possible to the one Simon normally sat in. The moment his lover took his seat, James wrapped an arm around Simon's neck and had him in a chokehold that nearly strangled the older man. Ignoring Dawn's grin, James went to work marking Simon's neck with a hickey that even a blind man could see. It wasn't until Simon grunted in pain that James quit sucking, switching instead to licking and kissing the bruised skin.

"What's wrong, James? Not getting enough meat in your diet?"

Blair stood directly across the table from James, and his amused glance irritated the hell out of the teen.

James decided it was time to take the man down a notch or two, and he brazenly patted Simon's crotch as he smugly replied, "Thanks for inquiring, but I'm getting plenty of meat. Isn't that right, Simon? Morning, noon and night. All I can eat."

Simon's husky moan slammed the door shut on whatever Blair was about to say. He glared at the victorious grin spreading across James' face before taking his seat next to Dawn. A bad-tempered huff slipped out as he was forced to watch the way his ex-lover passionately returned James' kiss. "Smartass kid," the anthropologist muttered under his breath.

James clearly heard the almost inaudible expletive, and it was all he could do to keep from jumping up and performing a victory dance. "Score one for the Ellison team," he whispered softly as he completed an oral tour of Simon's left ear.

"Love you, Tiger," Simon said.

The artist's words were loud enough for all to hear, and immediately James felt his insecure heart settle into a steady rhythm. "Back at ya, Si," he replied, and with another grin at Blair, gathered up Simon's healing hand and held it against his chest.

"Blair." Simon turned his attention to their guest for the evening. "Tell us how things have been with you these past few years."

"Yeah, Professor," James chimed in. "Tell us about Alex Barnes. Your Holy Grail, I believe you called her."

James had to give the man credit. Instead of sputtering like a fool whose secret's been found out, Blair simply looked at James and then sent his gaze in the direction of the pool. A few seconds passed before he turned back and pinned James with an odd look while calmly answering the questions posed to him.

"I met Alex several years ago. She was Dr. Stoddard's assistant, and we hit it off the moment we met. One thing led to another, and despite our often volatile relationship, we fell in love with each other. She and I joined Dr. Stoddard on several of his trips and---"

Bored out of his gourd, James collected his MP3 player from where it lay on the table and flipped it on. Because of his extra sensitive hearing he never actually wore the headphones that came with the device. Instead he just dumped everything in his lap, scooted back in his chair and concentrated on the music only he could hear.

James was soon jamming to his favorite Santana song, beating out its rhythm on the edge of the table with his fingers when a muscle spasm from out of nowhere hit him in the leg so hard it caused tears to pour down his cheeks. The pain was excruciating but before he could cry out a quiet voice slipped inside his consciousness and guided him away from the flames of agony threatening to overwhelm him.

"Listen to me, James. Grab onto my words and do what I say. Are you listening, James? This is what I want you to do."

"Visualize your MP3 player, James. See the volume control? It's set on max right now, isn't it? I want you to slowly turn the volume down. Take a deep breath and concentrate, big guy. You can do this."

James struggled in vain to open his eyes so that he could see who was talking, but each time he tried a red haze obscured his vision.

"I know it hurts like hell right now, and all you want to do is scream your lungs out, but James, I need for you to concentrate on my voice. Concentrate on what I'm telling you. Dial down the volume. Dial down the pain."

The pain eventually subsided enough to allow James to regain control of his mind, and when he finally forced his eyes open he found four anxious faces staring down at him. Cautiously glancing to the side, James quickly discovered the reason why everyone seemed to be towering over him. He was lying flat on his back in a patch of thick grass. How he got there was a complete mystery, but what really had the teen concerned was the fact that his head was resting in Blair's lap.

Scared shitless because his senses had once again made him look the complete fool, James lashed out verbally at his companions. "What the fuck is the matter with you people, and why in the hell am I lying on the ground?" James slapped Blair's hands away from his face. "Would you kindly keep your hands to yourself?"

Simon helped him to sit up, but before James could quiz his lover as to what was going on, the artist turned to question the man getting to his feet beside them.

"What's going on, Blair? What just happened between you and James?"

Hiding his face in the crook of his lover's neck, James slapped his hands over his ears and tried to block out the sound of a heartbeat that was not his, a heartbeat he had unknowingly been tuning into since his run-in with the garbage truck that day outside the hospital. He was disturbed even more when his trembling body responded not to Simon's soothing caresses but to Blair's. His uncontrollable shivering subsided the second the anthropologist kneeled beside him and touched his shoulders.

"Blair, what's going on?" Simon repeated.

Blair gently brushed his hand across James' shoulders and then down his back. His hand never actually came in contact with the teen's skin but James reacted as if it had. The muscles of his back rippled slightly and his shivering returned, ceasing only after Blair tenderly cupped the back of his neck.

"Dear goddess, can he actually be the one I've been searching for all these years?"

"Blair, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Blair looked up at his ex-lover and smiled.

"Simon, I do believe we have a sentinel in our midst."

End Work of Desire, Chapter 18 by Angelise: angelise7@hotmail.com
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