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Jim was driving home from the station during rush hour. The stop and go traffic didn't bother him. It was a clear, sunny day. Small clouds were sailing over the deep blue sky. Everything seemed to be just beautiful. Sigh. You got it bad, Jimmy, he thought with a wistful smile. He had never expected at his age to become so silly and romantic again. Oh, you are never to old to be a fool in love! At home Sandburg waited for him with the dinner and he, hopefully, would be the dessert.
He gripped the steering-wheel hard at that thought and shifted in his seat, his body remembering the feeling of that strong, sturdy body moving beneath him. Another heartfelt sigh.
A strange movement on the street in front of him caught suddenly his attention, distracting him from daydreaming about his lover. A big truck was turning left at the intersection dragging a small car. The car was caught by in the bumper grill and couldn't get loose. A surprised driver rammed the truck in the front. The small car was now smashed between the two vehicles. Jim jumped out of his truck and ran over. The traffic stopped as other people got out of their cars to help. The truck driver sat stone faced in his seat. His partner was dragging the man who had rammed them out of his car. Jim looked into the small car. A young woman sat there. She was groaning and holding her hands to a bleeding head wound. A familiar smell reached Jim - gasoline mixed with burning rubber.
Shit! He tried to pull the car door open but it stuck. The other side of the car was crushed against the truck. The window might be big enough to get the woman out. He leaned as much as he could through the window and unbuckled her seat belt. Carefully, he folded her hands into her lap. She cried out - one arm was probably broken. He arranged her legs over the passenger seat as best he could. An acrid smell told Jim that the engine was definitely burning under the hood. Soon the flames would come through around the pedals and under the dashboard. Jim wrapped his arms around the woman and drew her slowly out of the window. When her upper body was clear, someone came to help and grabbed her legs. They carried her aside to the pavement. Jim laid her down gently. She whimpered.
"Don't let me die."
"Shh, shh. Everything is okay. You'll be fine." Jim crooned and gently stroked her hair.
He was afraid that she would go into shock so he talked to her in soothing words while cradling her head. He looked around to locate the other driver.
The man was pale and had a bleeding cut on his forehead but seemed uninjured enough to walk on his own. Jim was relieved when he finally heard ambulance sirens. The woman's small car had caught fire and Jim prayed the fire truck arrived with the ambulance.
The EMTs took over with the injured woman. Jim moved quickly to the truck where the driver sat still motionless. He opened the door and dragged the man out and away from the burning car. The driver offered no resistance. Jim tried to question him but the man was stunned and non-responsive. Jim carried him to the EMTs. They quickly loaded him into the ambulance too and raced off.
Jim spoke briefly with the cops before setting off for the hospital.
He was curious what had happened to the man in the truck. He opened his cell phone and dialed Blair's number. As he waited for Blair to answer, he realized that more than an hour had gone by and he was late for dinner. Finally, Blair answered and Jim explained the delay. Blair laughed and promised to leave him some crumbs of the meal Jim was missing.
In the ER, he made sure that they found out why the arrested driver was behaving so strange. He also looked after the young woman while he waited for some results. She was awake but in pain.
"God, I don't know how to thank you, you saved my live!" She grabbed his hand. "And I don't even know you name."
"James Ellison. I'm with the Cascade PD."
"You're a cop?"
"Yeah. Why don't you rest a bit. I tell you what - I will come back later and look in on you when you're feeling better." He gently assured her.
She smiled a brilliant smile and leaned back. "Oh, I'm impolite, my name is Clairice Refenno."
"Hi, nice to meet you. Could have been better circumstances. I'll see you later."
He smiled at her and went to search for the doctor. Jim found him in the break room and introduced himself.
"Have you done a tox screen yet on the truck driver?"
"Yes, but it came back clean and I have to say it doesn't look like drugs to me."
"What could it be then?"
"Maybe a stroke."
Jim raised his brows. God heavens a stroke! That would make sense.
"But how was he still able to drive?"
"Don't know, we will see."
Jim made arrangements for hospital security to keep the driver under surveillance before returning to the young woman in the ER. The pain relievers had started working and he talked with her a little while she drifted off. Just before she fell asleep, he said good by and returned to his car.
Blair greeted him at the door with a sweet kiss and towed him into the kitchen.
"I thought you would camp out in that hospital. Wash your hands, sit down and we can eat. I'm already starving." He complained to Jim.
"I told you to eat without me."
"I'm not talking about food, man." Blair leered and playfully punched him in the side.
Jim laughed and went into the bathroom to shed his bloody clothes and to wash up. When he sat down, Blair looked expectantly at him.
"Go on! Tell me what happened."
Jim told him about the strange accident he had witnessed. The food was delicious and he ate like a starved man. Blair had to smile at his hungry lover.
"What?" Jim asked with a full mouth.
Blair grinned. "Oh. Nothing."
Jim gave him a no-nonsense look. Blair was making fun of him as usual.
Blair knew if Jim kept eating like this and had a few beers, he'd be out cold on the sofa in no time. Not that Blair was in any hurry. They had the rest of their lives to get this sex thing going. He wanted their first times to be something special. Instead he watched Jim's mouth.
"Have I ever told you that I like that incisor where the little piece is broken away." Blair said and tapped at his front teeth. "I think it looks kind of cute. I like to run my tongue over it. You never told me how you broke the tooth."
Jim blushed and covered his teeth with his tongue. Only Sandburg could say such strange things.
"During a car chase." He mumbled around the tongue over his teeth.
Later that evening, Jim slept on the sofa, a dead weight snuggled up against Blair who watched a documentary about carnivorous plants.
Three days later, Clairice was released from the hospital. Her mother picked her up and took her home.
"I always thought that the car was a bad idea, Clairice. See what came of it!" The older woman said with contempt.
"It wasn't my fault, mom. The other driver had a stroke."
"You don't need a car, sweetheart. I can drive you anywhere you need to go. The streets are so dangerous today and a car costs so much money. You could do better things with that money."
"Mom, you can't drive me around forever."
"We'll talk about it later. Now, you have to rest. Does your arm hurt?"
"A bit, Mom."
"See! That's the result. You don't need a car. You only get in trouble when you leave the house. Why haven't you put on the white shirt I laid out for you. It goes so much better with you hair. You should cut your hair, you know. I'll call Mrs. Zapek, she will come over and cut it for you."
"I like my hair like it is." Clairice pouted.
"Nonsense."
Clairice looked up from the kitchen table. Her mother towered over her. Clairice thought that she would suffocate at any moment. A pressure was building behind her eyes. She knew when she would go to bed the dreams would come again, swallowing her.
"I couldn't pull it over my cast." She defended herself weakly.
"Oh, child, don't be so stupid. I wish you would become more independent. Can't you think for yourself?"
Her mother continued her endless nagging chatter but Clairice's mind wandered. She was dreaming of the cop from the accident. Jim. His nice smile haunted her. She wanted to see him again, be with him. He was so strong, he would be able to free her from her mother. They could go to Hawaii and he would become a famous cop there. And she would get a wonderful tan. She hated her pale face.
"I'm going to get married!" She declared suddenly.
"Now, what's that for a nonsense now? You don't know any men, don't you? I have warned you about them!"
"I'll marry soon, you'll see!" She angrily exclaimed and stood up. "I'm going to my room now."
"I don't believe a word you say. This is just another of your crazy ideas. Don't think I'll fall for it! And I will tell Dad. He will have a few choice words to say! Stupid girl!" She called after her daughter, scolding as the girl retreated to her bedroom.
But Clairice didn't listen. She was planning to see her lover again. Planning to see James Ellison.
As soon as he pushed through the doors to Major Crimes, Jim heard H call out to him.
"Hey, Jim! SOMEbody's been getting lucky lately!"
Jim frowned at him. The detective nodded in the direction of Jim's desk. There was a lavish bouquet of purple roses and a box of sweets. Jim approached his desk and read the card which had been between the flowers.
"If you want my love. From a secret admirer" was written in a neat female script. Jim raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. He couldn't think of any woman who would have sent him roses.
And Sandburg wouldn't buy him a whole box of chocolate even if this was a prank. The kid would buy ginseng instead of sweets. Blair was his personal diet gadfly now. He sniffed at the box - the chocolates smelled okay. Nothing was wrong with them.
"Honest, Jim. I never thought you would ever get a date. I mean what woman would be crazy enough to go out with you! You are a hopeless case, man. You have the charm of a Uzi! Guys, Jim got lucky. You really must have thrown yourself into it if she is sending roses. And that at your age." H teased him. Jim rolled his eyes.
"So, which chick have you'd made happy, Jim? Spill it. You can't hide it from your friends. We want all the saucy details." Rafe laughed.
"Honest, I don't have the slightest clue. Really!" Jim's efforts met only with unbelieving laughter.
"Maybe she meant some other Ellison? Maybe there is doppelganger cruising Cascade seducing woman under your name. Oh, c'mon, man, do you think we are that stupid?" H said.
Jim shook his head. This was weird. So what did he do now with the flowers? He couldn't bring them home to Sandburg. Rhonda noticed how uncomfortable Jim looked.
"If you don't want them, why don't you give them to Serena?" Rhonda said. "Today is her birthday and after work we're all going over to the pub to have drink."
"That's a good idea, Rhonda, thanks." Jim was relieved.
Serena's party was nice. There were mostly woman from the precinct and Serena's coworkers. Jim gave his roses and sweets to Serena and hugged her.
"Happy birthday, Serena. All my best wishes! Ah, something from Major Crimes." Jim congratulated her.
"That's very nice of you, Jim" Serena smiled at him, already a slightly drunk from so many toasts.
Blair wasn't due at home anytime soon so Jim decided to stay and enjoy the party. He listened to the newest gossip and internal politics. When everybody left to go home, Jim accompanied Serena to a cab. She was in a merry mood and was giggling, telling silly secrets to Jim. He was rather amused to see the normally serious woman, head of the forensics team, so relaxed and open. As Jim guided her to the street corner, she clung to him, a little unsteady on her feet. He waited until the cab arrived and tucked her in. Fending off a final grope from Serena, Jim gratefully watched the cab drive away. Shaking his head as if enjoying some private joke, he got into his truck and headed home.
Blair was still at the U in a meeting. Jim fell into bed, hoping to catch some sleep before his lover came home.
He woke up next morning when sunlight touched his face. He had forgotten to put his sleeping mask on. Blair was snuggled at his side. Although their hectic schedules had limited their amorous adventures to making out on the sofa, Blair wanted to sleep with him in the same bed. Jim loved it.
Blair stirred. "Mornin' sleepyhead!" Blair grinned at him with bleary eyes.
"When did you come home?"
"Too late, man. I didn't want to wake you. C'mon, let's get up."
Blair planted a kiss on Jim's check and shuffled off to the bathroom.
At the bullpen H was already waiting for Jim.
"Hey, Jim, How's our lady-killer? How was the date?" H asked.
Blair looked at Jim who only shrugged.
"I went to Serena's birthday party last night."
"Was she the one who sent the roses?" H wanted to know.
"No! She was the one with the birthday, in case you don't remember."
Jim was getting irritated at H's poking.
Blair was truly puzzled. "Hey, man, what is H talking about?"
"Yesterday, someone send me roses and chocolates. Must be some misunderstanding."
"Uh huh!" Blair was doubtful.
Jim arched a eyebrow at Blair - it was not a nice expression.
Rhonda breezed in. "Serena was mugged yesterday, right in front of her house. Jim, did you get her a cab?"
Everybody was talking at the same time now.
"How's she?"
"When did this happen...?"
"Is she all right?"
Rhonda assured, "She's doing okay. She has a few bruises."
"Can we help?" Blair asked.
"No. Everything is okay, she will be out of the hospital by tomorrow."
"Did she see the mugger?" Jim asked, concerned.
"No. As far as I know, she was attacked from behind." Rhonda replied and went to her desk.
Captain Banks stuck his head out of his office. "Jim, I need the file on the car jacker case by noon."
Jim nodded and began to search through his file. Blair sat down next to him.
"How come that you didn't tell me about the flowers before now?"
"Look, Blair, I just forgot it this morning." Jim said defensively. It was true.
"Where is the stuff now!" Blair asked.
"What?"
"What have you done with the flowers?"
"I gave them to Serena. I had no use for them."
Blair shot him a thoughtful look and moved to sit at his desk.
"I have some paperwork to do."
Jim got the feeling that this wasn't over. At eleven o'clock, Blair left for Rainier. Jim had to go to a crime scene at the waterfront. He made a short stop at the loft to get his waterproof boots. When he arrived at the scene, the forensic people were already at the shore between the beached boats.
Jim stomped around in the wet sand searching for clues that the forensic team might have overlooked. Sam approached him with a bundle of new evidence bags.
"Find anything, Jim?" She smiled at him.
Jim shook his head. "The rain and the tide has everything washed away. I think the only interesting samples are under the corpse."
"Have you heard about Serena? Isn't it awful? It was her birthday and she got mugged by some perp." Sam asked.
"How is she doing?"
"She is pissed."
"That's a good sign!"
"Hey, Serena is tough." Sam smiled at Jim slyly. "Where is Blair today?"
Jim grinned back. "Doing paperwork at Rainier."
"Poor guy! Missed all the fun! A waterlogged corpse is always something special." She said with an evil grin, knowing well that Blair couldn't stand the idea of seeing a blue, swollen corpse that had been lying in the water for three days.
They talked for a while and Sam showed him around. It began to rain.
"We'll wrap up, Jim. See you at the station."
"I'll hope you'll have some results. This damned case is leading us nowhere."
When he came home, Blair was already waiting for him.
"Hey Chief." Something was up, he could feel it.
"Hi, Jim. Care to tell me what that is supposed to be?"
Blair pointed into the direction of the kitchen table. There were flowers and a big box with sweets and a letter. Blair picked the letter up.
"You know, this surprised me a bit." He began to read: "I can't forget your blue eyes. You held me in your strong arms. The way you stroked my hair so gently and cradled my head into your hands. You offered me eternal love. I'll follow you everywhere. And so goes on..." Blair folded the letter carefully and pushed it back into the envelope.
Jim could see that Blair was trying hard not to lose it. "Blair." He whispered.
"What!" The young man shouted. "What are you going to tell me? Another misunderstanding? How stupid do you think I am? Stroked my hair so gently. I know that feeling. You like to play with hair. You know, it doesn't sound like she made this up, man!"
"Chief, I don't know what this about. I swear!"
"Sure you don't." Blair threw his hands in the air and turned to go in his room.
"You don't believe me?" Jim was hurt. What was he supposed to do?
"What the hell is this about, Jim? Why don't you just come clean? Whatever is going on, we can talk about it."
"I have nothing to confess...there is nothing to confess." Jim was desperate and angry now. He had no idea what to do, what to say to make Blair believe him.
"Jim, we can work this out, just don't lie to me."
"I am not lying!" He yelled. "And if you don't believe me, I have nothing more to say to you!"
Jim grabbed his jacket and stormed out. Blair stood in the middle of the room. A feeling of doom settled over him. Could he be misinterpreting the situation? He sat down wearily and stared at the evil gifts as if they could tell him the truth.
Jim stomped angrily down the street. Shit, shit, shit! After three blocks, he began to calm down a bit.
Still, the thoughts raced through his head - This is so stupid! It isn't my fault! Damn. Blair is jealous. Okay, he could understand that. Hell! If the roles were reversed, he would probably be worse. But Blair was insecure about their relationship, about his feelings for him, and that hurt. Damn, Chief! A feeling of unhappiness washed over him. He had been there before with his ex-wife, Caroline. He had no desire to go through that again. He had to go home and work things out with Blair.
When he entered the loft Blair was gone as were the gifts. He hung up his coat, retrieved a beer from the fridge and sat down to wait for his lover.
After ten minutes of waiting Blair came back. He looked sorry.
"I took the flowers and stuff to Mrs. Thompson."
Jim nodded. He didn't know were to begin. Blair obviously didn't know either.
"Chief, I'm..." Jim sighed and tried again. "Okay, chief, I'm sorry. I really don't know what this is all about. You gotta believe me. This is some kind of stupid prank and somebody is laughing his ass off. I'm serious, Blair!" He pleaded.
Blair looked wounded. "I'm sorry that I kind of lost it. I just don't understand why someone would do this. This makes no sense. This is a pretty stupid prank. Unless there really is something to it..."
"You are losing me here, Chief. Because you can't explain it, I'm lying?"
"No!" Blair looked guilty.
"Well. I understand how this looks to you but do you think I would continue to lie about it if the woman was going to show up any moment on our doorstep?" He tried to reason. "Just do me a favor and don't jump to conclusions with out hard evidence."
Clairice was angry. Another woman was flirting with her James. She watched the easy way that bitch talked with James with growing hatred.
Clarice's face twisted into a cold grimace. She'd wipe the smile off that bitch's face the way she had off the other woman. Clairice watched as Jim drove away in his truck and Sam walked to her car with her coworkers.
Clairice followed Sam back to the station and down to her lab. Nobody noticed her when she stood staring through the blinds at the pretty, young woman working at her desk. She let her eyes wander over the lab equipment. When she spotted a blue gas beaker, an idea began to form in her head.
She didn't want anybody between her and James. These sluts were only taking advantage of James' gentleness. An attractive man like him was always target for vicious women who would use and destroy him. She had to protect him. When Sam left the lab to deliver test results to Major Crimes, Clairice slipped in.
Some time later an explosion ripped through the Cascade PD building. Glass from the forensic lab windows burst and went flying, hitting several pedestrians in the street below. The shock wave rattled the whole building. Sam and her coworker were just stepping out of the elevator when the blast hit them and threw them hard against the wall. Sam felt splinters scraping over her face. When she opened her eyes again, smoke was spreading fast and a sharp stench was filling the room. Alarms went off and the building was evacuated in minutes. Sam pulled the other woman to her feet and they both ran to the nearest staircase.
"Get out! Get out!" Sam yelled.
A lot of people were running down the stairs. Nobody needed to be told twice to leave. The smell of acid was choking. Halfway down they met the bomb squad. Sam stopped them.
"You'll need masks. Don't know what all that chemicals will do together. I'm sure it is a poisonous cocktail."
The bomb squad waited until the staircase was cleared then they crept into the hallway outside Forensics. They approached the decimated lab with great care. The hall and the bombed out lab room were eerily quiet. The lab was completely destroyed. A large hole gaped in the floor where an oxygen tank had been. The tank itself was several feet away, lodged between some desks. They would needed a specialist to clean the chemical contaminants.
Sam and her friend were only slightly hurt. They had a few scratches from the flying glass and their ears were ringing. When the adrenaline wore off, both women began to shake. They were checked over by the paramedics who confirmed that they'd suffered no permanent damage. Sam offered thanks to every deity she could think of for sparing her.
After a quick first examination it was clear that this hadn't been an accident. Someone had smeared fat in the valve of the oxygen tank and then had open it. The fat and the oxygen had reacted violently, turning the oxygen tank into a volatile projectile. The whole place was sealed and a team was formed to deal with this new case of terrorism. The members of Cascade PD were allowed to return to the building and to their duties when the bomb squad was sure there was no more danger. Nevertheless, the cops eyed everything warily When they came back from the street where they had been waiting for hours. The press was crowding the place but nobody was allowed to enter the building who didn't belong there.
After Simon Banks had all the details, he called Jim.
The phone rang loudly in the loft. Jim picked up, glaring at his partner.
"Ellison!" He bellowed.
Simon winced. "There's been an explosion in the forensics lab. Someone had tampered with an oxygen tank and it exploded. I need you to come in and take a look!"
"There's been an explosion at the station. See you later." Jim grabbed his coat, not waiting for Blair's answer.
"Was anyone hurt?"
"Don't know." Jim walked out.
Blair sat down and blinked at the closed door. He needed to make a decision.
Jim and Simon wandered carefully over the debris and broken lab equipment. Jim couldn't smell anything specific. The spilled chemicals produced a sickening stench. He searched through the pieces of glass but turned up nothing. The chemicals had obliterated any evidence. Jim peered down through the hole left by the explosion and shuddered at the image of what would have happened if someone had been standing there. Frustrated at the lack of clues, Jim and Simon went back to the bullpen.
"Any leads so far, Sir? Did Sam see anything?" Jim asked Simon.
"No, nothing. The mayor is preparing to make a statement to the press. He's furious. Go home. You can't do anything now."
Home to a jealous Sandburg. Jim sighed. Simon shooed him out.
When Jim came home Blair was cooking dinner - lasagna and a big salad - a peace offering. Jim wanted to set things straight between them. However he sat down and calmly told Blair about the investigation of the explosion, as if nothing had happened before. Blair listened but would not look Jim in the eye. He mumbled comments and rearranged his silverware. He showed a little interest when Jim mentioned that Sam was hurt.
"Is it bad?"
"No, just a few scratches and a bit of shock. The lab is completely destroyed though."
"Any leads yet?"
"Not a clue. Nobody's claimed responsibility so far."
Blair set the dishes in front of Jim and sat down. Jim studied the younger man's face. He wasn't sure what was going on.
"Jim," he began hesitating "I think we should drop everything we talked about before until we are both clear to think about it. I also want to sleep in my bed tonight. I think it's better."
"Okay," Jim drawled. "But you'll be sorry."
Blair looked up.
"For not trusting me with this." Jim finished.
Blair said nothing. He felt bad. Some part of him was screaming this is all wrong. But there was still the letter he couldn't forget. And Jim wasn't reacting like he thought he would. He was pissed, yet patient and understanding. They ate in silence, then cleared the table. Blair went into his room and Jim watched TV.
Jim was sure the misunderstanding would soon be cleared up and Blair would forgive him and be ashamed of his stupid jealousy. However if he kept fighting with his young lover, the damage would grow beyond repair. With a sigh, he went to bed. Whoever played this trick on him was going to pay, he promised himself.
The next morning, Jim got up late again and Blair was already gone. New flowers and chocolate were brought along with a card with a poem fromLes Fleurs Du Mal of Beaudelaire. How inspiring Jim thought. He gave them to Mrs. Thompson before he drove to the station.
The precinct had already returned to its normal routine. Jim was going through his paperwork when new flowers were brought to his desk at noon. The guys laughed at Jim's dismayed expression.
"Oh ho! Somebody is really in love!" Rafe snickered.
Jim glared at Rafe and ripped open the envelope. The words on the card made his skin crawl. It was another poem:
The sluts that tried to take you away from me deserved what they got!
Jim stared at the card as if it would bite him. He brought it to Simon and laid it on his desk so that he could read it.
"What is it?" he asked, puzzled.
"Read it!"
"Oh my god!" Simon looked up, shocked.
"It looks like my 'secret admirer' attacked Serena and tampered with the oxygen tank."
"Are you sure?"
"I put Serena in a cab, next thing you know, she's mugged. I talked with Sam at the crime scene by the marina. A little while later, her lab explodes. Okay, I can't prove anything. Call it a hunch but it's the only thing that makes sense so far."
"What does Sandburg have to say about all this? Where is he today?" Simon sounded irritated.
"Sandburg is ..." Jim almost said jealous. "Sandburg is annoyed because he thinks I'm hiding things from him."
"So it's true, you don't know who's behind this." Simon nodded at the card. "Not even the slightest suspicion?"
Jim shook his head. "I can't think of anyone. There hadn't been anybody." Jim chewed his lip.
"Get all the stuff, cards, what have you to Forensics. We need a psychologist here." Simon ordered.
Jim picked the card up and shoved it in an evidence bag.
"I really want to know why always the nut balls have a crush on me?" Jim groused.
"It's your winning personality."
Jim shot him an angry glare and walked out.
Jim drove home to get the other cards. One he had to fish out the garbage can. He brought them back and handed them to the forensics tech who had already checked the fingerprints of the card delivered earlier the same day. Unfortunately, the card had been clean and the tech had found nothing. Jim had sniffed at the cards but there was only a faint female scent. Brown and Rafe had called a long list flower shops. The bouquets had been sent from several different shops and had been paid for in cash. Only one clerk remembered the customer, a middle aged woman with brown hair, she explained. They decided to split up and to question the shop personnel again. Jim thought about calling Blair but decided against it. There was no proof that he was right about his suspicion.
Questioning of the flower shop clerks brought them four different descriptions.
Blond or brown hair, young or middle aged. Slim or slightly overweighed. The cards seemed to be a better lead at first. They were only sold in one shop downtown. It was a nice little shop with a lot of knick-knacks. However, the owner couldn't remember having sold the cards to anyone in particular.
The cell phone rang while Jim was driving back to the station. It was Blair.
"There is another one here, Jim!"
"Don't touch it!" Jim ordered urgently.
"What?"
"Don't touch anything! I'll come and get it."
Blair looked at the receiver. "Good. Whatever." And put it down.
Jim rushed into the loft. "Where is it?"
Blair nodded at the kitchen table. There laid the flowers and a card.
"Have you read the card?"
"No. I didn't want to know." Blair said defensively. He didn't like Jim's tone.
Jim pulled on rubber gloves and carefully opened the envelope. It was a love poem again. Underneath was written:
The bitch from the lab will probably think twice before she flirts with you again!
"Oh, shit!"
Blair was surprised. He had read the card over Jim's shoulder.
"My secret admirer attacked Serena and tried to kill Sam. She is a loony. We spent the whole afternoon trying to track her through the flowers and the cards. We couldn't even get a good description."
Blair stared agape at his lover. Jim took the flowers and the card and went to the door.
"I have to bring this to the station."
"Okay, Jim. .... I'm sorry." Blair whispered.
Jim smiled softly at him and closed the door.
Blair felt like a moron. He'd risked all because he didn't want to believe Jim. Stupid, stupid jealousy! They had been involved for only a few days and he had already messed things up. How would this ever work? They were both wrecks, each in his own way unable to live in a relationship. He could see himself packing his things the way he had to do every time his mom had ended another relationship. He hadn't believed and trusted Jim. He knew that this was a big issue for the older man. The people in Jim's life had not always taken him seriously. They might have feared his anger and strength but never valued his opinions.
Yet, whatever Jim might think now about him, another nut case was after the cop. Blair shouldn't leave him alone. Who knew what this crazy woman would do if she realized that Jim wasn't interested in her.
And what about him? They had been careful about revealing the new aspect of their relationship. They weren't out so she couldn't see Blair as a threat. He decided not to mention this aspect to Jim.
Jim had spent hours in the station going after every lead he could think of. After all possibilities were exhausted, Jim drove home worn out.
Blair had showered, shaved and was wearing his best T-shirt and briefs.
He felt silly trying to make up to Jim this way. The older man probably held grudge against him and would not easily forget how foolishly Blair had acted. Jim might be even offended by Blair's overt sexual bribe. Like a slut. But Jim surprised him again.
When Jim hung up his coat Blair got up from his cozy place on the sofa and approached his lover. Jim smiled down at him, immediately realizing that Blair had primed himself for something. This could only mean that he found a way to try to soothe his bad cop-lover. Archaic tactic, works on throwbacks, Jim thought with amusement. Caroline had never tried this. She had punished him for weeks every time they had fought.
He cradled the smaller man in his arms and deeply inhaled the scent of his beloved.
"Are you mad at me?" Blair asked seriously.
"Furious." Jim stated flatly.
Blair looked up, worried. He saw Jim's intense eyes laughing at him. He did not miss the predacious expression on Jim's face. Blair shivered inwardly. He had seen this look before but not directed at him. Jim claimed his mouth with a hard kiss.
"I think you need to be punished, Othello!"
"Oh, really?" Blair quipped.
"At least a little bit."
"And what kind of punishment do you have in mind?" Blair challenged.
"You'll have to sleep with me in my bed till the end of your natural life."
"Oh, you are so cruel!" Blair laughed.
Jim bit him playfully in the shoulder and laughed too. "Are you hungry?"
"Nope. I got something at the station."
"Bed then?"
"Go ahead, I'm going to take a shower."
Blair waited in the big bed. When a buck naked Jim appeared at the top of the stairs Blair let out a wolf whistle.
"Can it, Chief!"
Jim slipped under the covers. Blair immediately snuggled close. They kissed and their hands began to wandered and explore. They quickly became aroused as tension was redirected to excitement. All Jim wanted was to hold Blair, to mold their bodies together until he lost the sense of where he ended and Blair began. No elaborate sex games, just the pure feeling of him. Jim was convinced that he had been very close to loosing Blair.
"What do you want to do?" Blair asked softly.
"Just this. Okay?"
Jim wedged his legs between Blair's and settled himself on top of his guide. He started to thrust against his mate for all he was worth. Blair moaned and tried to find the perfect angle to give back as good as he received. Every time Jim unleashed his animalistic power a bit Blair became incredible turned on. They ground against each other like madmen. Jim came first with a howl and the sensation pushed Blair over the edge. Jim sank down holding some of his weight on his elbows. He stroked Blair's sweat-soaked hair and buried his face in his neck. He wished they could stay like this forever. Blair clung to him and stroked his back in soothing circles. He felt Jim's melancholy mood. When he shifted under Jim's heavy weight, Jim rolled immediately to his side. He sighed and traced the lines in his lover's face.
"Don't leave me!" Jim whispered, sadness lacing his voice.
Oh God! Blair thought. Jim had been afraid that I would leave him. He never would even if Jim screwed around on him. He would fight for their love with tooth and nail.
"Never, man, even if you do something foolish. You can always talk to me, I'll always try to understand. We can work out everything if we try." Blair assured him. "This was, like, so intense, man!"
Jim knew Blair meant what he said. He kissed him, threw a possessive arm around him and fell asleep. Blair was still reeling in the afterglow.
Next morning they woke up early. They stayed in bed and Jim told him everything that had happened the day before. Blair couldn't resist asking Jim why he could forgive him so easily.
"Well, I realized that if the tables were turned I would be much more jealous and possessive. And I would have had ways to know if you were lying. You didn't have that advantage."
"I should have believed you."
"You could only see what was there. All evidence was against me. I could understand how you felt. That's why I wasn't that mad at you."
"That's not all, isn't it? Tell me." Blair asked thoughtfully.
Jim sighed. "I don't want to talk about now. Let it go."
"Tell me about it!"
"You were ready to forgive me if I screwed around, but you didn't believe me when I told you the truth."
"I know I was wrong about that."
"I can understand you doubting me. I deserved it."
"Deserved it?" Blair said puzzled.
"I'm good at hiding secrets. Nobody knows that better than you. Why should you believe me when I'm always telling you are too trusting. I figure you finally listened and I deserved your distrust."
"Shit, man! That's, like, so not cool! I trust everyone else but you at the one time it really mattered. How can you still love me?"
"Chief, you may have many faults," Jim smiled tenderly to ease the words. "But you are still the best thing in my life. Besides, even when you do something stupid, somebody has to keep cool."
Blair smiled at Jim's teasing but nevertheless felt the weight of his words.
The following days were frustrating as they tried but failed to find something that would lead to Jim's mystery woman. More flowers and cards showed up but all they got were more generic descriptions of an average-looking woman. They got nowhere with it.
Blair suggested that the woman might be stalking Jim. Jim didn't remember anyone suspicious but he began paying more attention to people in his surroundings. Despite his vigilance, he spotted no one. Simon's comment had been: " As long you stay away from any woman, we have time to find her, before another woman gets hurt. That shouldn't be too difficult for you."
Jim rolled his eyes. But he couldn't blame Simon. Simon had managed to keep the whole situation quiet, even managed to keep the press out of it.
Several days later, a bust went bad. Several cops were held hostage in a large, empty storage building. The streets around the scene were closed. The press attempted to sneak in. Spectators flocked, drawn in by media coverage. Jim was called in from a stake out. Arriving at the scene, Jim learned that Megan was one of the hostages. Simon wanted him to be with the team. Megan was one of their own.
He was able to locate the men inside the warehouse with his hearing. They were spread all over rooms in the front of the building. He teamed up with the SWAT team and, in the first light of the dawn, they entered the building from the back side. They split up to go after the different groups. Jim found Megan in a deserted office tied to a chair. Only one guard was left with her. He was smoking and had his back turned to Jim. He was completely surprised when Jim's gun hit him on the head. Megan was grinning like mad at Jim's arrival. When he cut the ropes around her wrists she asked for 'Sandy'.
"He's at home. We have to get out fast. Are you okay?"
Megan searched the unconscious man for weapons and found two guns.
Armed with the appropriated weapons, she gave Jim a stern glare.
"No time for small talk , Jimbo!" And she slipped out.
Jim smirked and followed her. In the distance, they could hear gun fire.
They run down several corridors. When they turned at a corner, Jim heard an elevator behind them. They spun around. The elevator stopped and the doors opened. The three guys inside immediately started to shoot at the sight of the cops. There was no cover. So they just shot back.
Megan used both guns emptying the clips with rapid fire. Absently Jim tried to estimate when she'd run out of ammunition. The stench and the smoke of the gun powder was assaulting his senses. Jim felt two bullets tear through his clothes and a third hit the vest at his lower ribcage, nearly knocking him down. Two of the men in the elevator fell. The third dropped his gun and raised his hands over his head. Completely deafened from the shoot-out, neither Jim nor Megan could hear if backup was coming.
Before his eyes were dancing lights, residual sparks from the blinding fire of the guns shots. "Are you hurt?" He searched Megan for evidence of gunshot wounds.
She was pale but still on her feet.
"No, get him!" She pointed with one of her guns at the perp in the elevator.
She backed up Jim while he approached the man cautiously. The two men on the floor were unconscious. He cuffed them and the third without resistance.
He called Simon over the headset. "Simon, we got three. We need an ambulance. We are at the third floor at the back side of the elevator. Megan is with me. We are both okay."
He watched Megan who was slumped on the floor checking how many rounds were left in her clips. Jim was proud of her - she had kept her cool like an old pro.
Suddenly, they heard more gunfire and then the call from the commanding officer to cease fire. Cops were swarming the building. The bust was over. After a while paramedics showed up to transport the wounded men off.
Jim felt the adrenaline dissipate in his system and his legs turned to rubber. He began to breath deeply to relax so that he would not come down too hard. It didn't work very well - his ribs hurt with every breath and he cramped up painfully.
Jim and Megan had just left the building when Megan suddenly started to curse and swear like a drill sergeant. The shock had hit her finally. Jim tried instead to concentrate on carefully removing his Kevlar vest. Megan noticed his pained expression as he worked slowly. She notified Simon and lead Jim to her car.
"I'll drive you to a hospital!" She climbed in.
Jim didn't protest. He couldn't get enough of a breath to put up a fight.
The doctor released him an hour later. Nothing was broken. The soreness spreading across Jim's ribs was caused by a deep bruise from the impact of the bullets against the Kevlar. He was bandaged and sent home. Megan was already gone. She wanted to call her dad, she told Jim, to hear his voice.
Jim stepped silently through the door. He carefully slouched out of his coat, used the bathroom and went to the fridge to retrieve a beer. With a heavy sigh, he crashed on the couch. He had almost fallen asleep when he heard the pattering of bare feet behind him. Sandburg was up.
"How about some hot soup?" Blair said, his voice deep and hoarse from sleep.
Jim pried his eyes open. Blair was looming over him. He was wearing Jim's black leather jacket. Always cold, he had slipped iit on while it still held the warmth of Jim's body. Beneath he wore nothing than more than dark briefs. Jim swallowed.
"I'll get you some. Just a minute. I throw it in the microwave."
The erotic picture disappeared. Blair returned a minute later with the soup.
"Here you go."
Blair handed him the bowl and sat next to him. Jim slurped his soup and tried to reason with his sudden urge to pounce on Blair. Jim knew his body wouldn't cooperate. But Blair had obviously other ideas. He pressed himself into the bigger man and stroked gently his back. After Jim had eaten, Blair took the bowl away and pushed Jim back to straddle him.
"Missed you so much. I felt abandoned in that big bed without you." Blair whispered claiming Jim's mouth with a fierce kiss.
Jim slipped his hands under the jacket and stroked over the warm body.
Blair tried to mold into him. Jim winced in pain. "What is it, Jim?"
"I got in a shoot-out. I was hit by a bullet. Here." Jim pointed at his ribs.
Blair jumped worriedly up. "At the stake out? Is it bad?"
"No. It was a hostage situation. Megan was held with four other cops in a large storage building. I went in with the SWAT team. Took a hit in the vest. I think I'm going to be a nice shade of blue tomorrow."
Frustrated, Blair released Jim and pulled him up off the couch and towards their bed. He had slept peacefully while Jim was almost killed.
"How's Megan?"
"She is fine. You wouldn't believe how cold-blooded she is. She a better double fisted gunfighter than those guys in a John Woo movie. She is a great girl." Jim praised her.
Blair shook his head. Normally, Jim and Megan were bickering with each other. Now, suddenly, she was a great girl. He was sure he would hear every little detail at the bullpen tomorrow.
He sat Jim on the bed and started to undress him. Jim groaned when he tried to lift his arms. Blair left the T-shirt on and worked shoes and pants off. Jim slipped under the covers.
"How do you feel?"
"Like a load of shit."
"Poor thing."
Jim smiled. Blair crawled in next to him without touching him. Instead, he grabbed a hand and entwined his fingers with Jim's.
"Do you know why I like it that you are so big?" Blair murmured.
"Why?" Jim asked with a lazy smile already half asleep.
"Because there's more to play with." Blair made a wide gesture with his hands. "You are my favorite playground."
Jim felt always proud and embarrassed at the same time when Blair complimented his body. He knew his body was okay, nice to look at, but he was flustered when Blair was so vocal in his appreciation. Blair got that hungry look as if he would like to eat him alive. And then Jim melted and Blair got away with everything.
Jim slept fitfully through the day, waking up nearly every hour from vivid dreams about the shooting. The moment he realized that he was in his bed, safe, and Blair was puttering around in the loft, he fell asleep again.
When Blair emptied the hamper to do the laundry, he found two holes in Jim's shirt. Bullet holes. A feeling of dread filled him. So close again!
Megan had cleaned her apartment, baked a cake and watched TV. She had talked with her dad on the phone for a long time, not caring that it would cost her a fortune. Sleep was out of question, she was much too wired and her ears were still ringing. The weather cleared and Megan decided to take a walk. She missed the hot weather of Australia. Stepping out in the street, she blinked at the sun. Cascade's usual gloom had given way and the sky was clear. Megan smiled and walked towards a neighborhood park. A long walk would help her calm down. When she crossed the main street near the park entrance, something caught her attention and she slowed a bit. A car suddenly appeared from nowhere and hit Megan in a glancing blow. The hit twisted her around and threw her down on the street.
The car sped away. A passerby, a woman walking her dog, ran to Megan's aid.
"Are you hurt?"
"Don't know."
"I got a good look at the driver but couldn't see the license plate number."
The woman fumbled in her pocket, drew out a cell phone and called an ambulance. "Don't stand up," she said to Megan.
Megan didn't intend to stand up. Everything was spinning. Shit! Had that been Jim's secret admirer?
"Can I use your cell phone?" Megan asked.
"What do you need?"
"I want to call the police to report this."
"Sure. Here you go." The woman offered her the phone.
Megan called Simon and told him what had happened. Simon took the information Megan had on the car and issued an ABP. The woman waited with Megan for the ambulance and they talked a little.
Jim finally gave up on sleep and got out of bed in the late afternoon.
"Hungry, love?" Blair asked, balancing a big bundle of dry laundry.
"I could eat a horse."
"I've only pizza."
"Tell me were it is and nobody gets hurt."
"It is still in the oven of the pizzeria, I'm afraid . How are the ribs?"
"Sore. You want to kiss it and make it better?"
"Would it help?"
"It would drop my dials to zero! Help me out of this shirt, will you?"
Blair helped him out of the tight shirt and Jim went into the bathroom.
He heard Jim curse a lot from the bathroom while he set the table. The pizzas arrived. When Jim was dressed they sat down to eat. After Jim had wolfed down his pizza and some of Blair's, he slumped on the couch with the remote control. Blair settled in next to him.
"Care to tell me what happened?" Blair asked.
Jim let out a deep sigh. He told Blair what went wrong during the bust and how Megan was caught.
"Simon called me - he wanted me to locate her in that damn building. I went in with the SWAT team. Once I was inside, it wasn't difficult to find her. We were almost out when three scumbags appeared in a elevator." Jim paused.
"What happened?" Blair said softly. Jim's face became a distant and hard.
"There was no cover. All we could do was to return fire. It was a miracle that Megan wasn't hit at that short a distance. She wasn't wearing a vest."
The young man shuddered. "I see. Like a Mexican stand off."
"Two of the perps were hit, the third gave up. My ears are still ringing. I lost count of how many rounds were fired in those thirty seconds."
"Only half a minute?"
"Only? It seemed like an eternity." Jim rubbed his face.
Blair's stomach felt heavy and tight. He was startled when the phone rang. It was Simon.
"Megan was almost run over by a car. Jim's 'secret admirer' is back."
"God! How is she?" Blair asked, shocked.
"She's okay, Blair. It's only a few bruises, but she is mad as hell. Worse than Jim. She didn't get the plate number, only make, model and color."
"Damn, Simon. This crazy woman has more luck than she deserves."
"How's Jim doing?"
"He is sore and it still hurts to breathe."
"Damn. Take care of him. I don't want to see either of you until Monday."
Blair turned to Jim. The older man stared at the coffee table. Suddenly he stood up and walked up to his room. Blair followed him after a while. Jim laid on the covers one arm over his face. Blair perched on the bed. With a strained voice Jim said: "We have to get her, Blair."
"We will, don't worry."
That night Jim was haunted with terrible nightmares. He saw Megan in front of him. The men in the elevator wore camouflage and had machine guns. Megan was ripped in two by savage burst of gunfire. Blood covered the floor, the walls, everything. In his rage, he threw a grenade into the elevator. The whole building crashed down on top of them. He heard Blair's voice calling for him but he was buried under the remains of the building and couldn't answer. He knew that rescue would never reach him in time - they'd find him dead and he would never see his lover again. He wailed in agony.
"Jim, Jim. Wake up, please!" Blair was clutching at Jim.
Jim opened his eyes. Blair was holding him as his body shook and he was covered with sweat. Blair tenderly stroked his head. "It's over love, nobody can hurt you," He crooned.
Jim calmed down after a while. Blair cradled him in his arms. Jim's inhuman scream had scared the shit out of him.
Jim was relieved when Serena Chang and Sam came back to work. They had recovered from their injuries and didn't blame him for what had happened. Megan came back too. However, she limped around and was grumpy. Shetold him a long, complicated story about a policeman from the outback who worked in the city and attracted all kinds of loonies. He had psychic abilities, she whispered to him conspiratorially. Jim wasn't sure if she was pulling his leg. But it eased his feelings of guilt nonetheless.
Jim started to plan the sweet seduction of his lover with all the skill of a sentinel. Nothing too physical had happened between him and Blair. They had spent too much time lately in stressful situations to be able to relax and take their relationship to the next level of intimacy. When he had given in his impulse to kiss Blair for the first time and Blair had kissed him back like there was no tomorrow, he had expected they wouldn't leave the bed for several weeks except it was really necessary. Now it was time to make that promise into reality.
Clarice was desperate. Nothing had worked. James Ellison did not stop flirting with other women. She was convinced as long as she lived with her mother that James Ellison would never come to her. Who would want to have a mother in law like her mom. She couldn't blame him. For several days, she had been planning their wedding and honeymoon. She wanted something really romantic with doves and a giant cake. On the top of the cake should stand two little figures, a bride and a groom. She had searched through old newspapers in the library and had found out that Ellison had been a Ranger. She wanted him to wear his dressuniform for the ceremony. Maybe his army buddies would come and do a 21-gun salute at the wedding.
Monday morning Mrs. Refenno walked around her car looking for any dirt and found a nick on the passenger side door.
"Clairice!" Her mother yelled through the house.
Clairice sat in her room and held her hands over her ears. She hated her mother so much that it hurt.
"What have you done with the car?"
"I don't know, Mom."
"Don't lie to me, there is a bump on the side. You drove my car!"
"I did not drive your precious car!"
"I really don't know what to do with you. Why do I put up with you? If I tell this to your father, he will send you back to the hospital. Then they can take care of you!"
"Go on, tell him, I don't care. I'll go and you will never, never see me again." She spat out.
"Nonsense! Where would you go?"
"To my fiance."
"You can't live with a man - you are not married."
"You'll see!" Her daughter threatened.
"I have to go to work now. We'll talk about this later." She walked out.
When Clairice heard the car leave she packed her belongings and called a cab.
Mrs. Refenno came home late. When she found the house deserted, she went into her daughter's room. The wardrobe and the drawers were open. She searched through the drawers and found a couple of letters. They were all addressed at some James Ellison. So her story about a man had been true. This bastard had stolen the heart of her naive baby. She was going to protect her only child from that sex fiend. She got her purse and drove into the city.
Mrs. Refenno stomped into the bullpen and loomed over Jim's desk, hands on her hips.
"What have you done to my daughter?" She demanded in a shrill voice "I'll get you for seducing my innocent child. You'll pay for that. Do you hear me?"
Ellison looked like someone had slapped him. What was this about?
"Excuse me, there seems to be some kind of misunderstanding."
Simon had approached Jim's desk when he heard the woman shouting.
"There is no misunderstanding. This man has taken advantage of my innocent daughter. You won't get away with it." She wailed.
"Who is you daughter?" Simon demanded impatiently. He hated situations like this.
"Clairice Refenno. I've found cards and letters written to this man."
She waved a bundle of papers at Jim and Simon. Jim jumped up and snagged them from her.
"Simon, look!" He held up the pink cards with the floral design. "Where is you daughter now?"
"What do you mean, where is she now? Why do you think I'm here. I want to know what he has done with her?"
"Where is she?" Simon asked sternly. The hysterical woman was wearing on his nerves.
"I don't know. She's disappeared." She finally admitted.
"Look." He grabbed her arm "We need to know where she might be. Does she have any friends she might be with?"
"I have no clue. She packed her things and left."
Simon threw an "I don't like it" look at Jim.
"We need her description. Does she have a car?" Simon asked.
"No... Why do you need her description?" She looked nervously at Ellison. "Has she done something wrong again? It's not her fault, she is not right in the head."
"We need to ask her some questions about a series of accidents suffered by members of my staff."
"Accidents? Oh my god!"
Rafe came over and led her to a desk to take her statement and get the girl's description.
"We need to find her, Jim" Simon looked at Jim who had gone pale.
"What's the matter with you? Do you know her?"
"The car accident, Simon, some weeks ago. I pulled a young woman from a burning car. That's her!" Jim's eyes wandered over the bullpen. "She seemed nice, a bit odd, but not like a nut case."
"With a mother like her I would be a nut case, too. Go over to her house, you might find something that'll give us an idea where she's gone."
Jim nodded and grabbed his jacket. "Take Cassie along." Jim rolled his eyes.
"C'mon, she's annoying but she's as tenacious as a terrier - if there's anything to find, she'll find it."
Standing in the hall of the Refenno's neat little house, Jim felt creepy. It looked like a perfect home but there was a sense of a possessed, narrow, hard mind beneath the surface. Cassie went through the rooms.
"I've done some studies about fixations. Usually start in the the home with the parents." She shook her head. "Is this house weird or had I a bad breakfast?"
She went into another room. Jim stood in the hallway in deep concentration and tried to get a feeling for the house.
"Let's go upstairs!" Cassie suddenly appeared at his side.
They ascended the small stairs. Jim peeked into the rooms. The second story was like a parody from a lower middle class sitcom. He thought he could actually predict what the next room would look like. Cassie had found Clairice's room. She was already going through Clairice's things, mentally cataloging everything she saw. Jim felt reluctant to raid her room. He had realized that he still hadn't got over the shock of finding out who was behind all this. The picture he made of a madwoman didn't jive with the with the petite blonde he remembered from the hospital.
Cassie looked up to him concerned.
"I'm sorry - It must be really frustrating"
"What? I think we better look harder." Jim didn't want Cassie's pity.
He straighten up and they searched through everything again. There wasn't much, mostly stuff collected over the years. Childhood memories, papers, books and toys. Not much in the room marked it as the domain of an adult woman.
"I'll go through the basement and the garage." Jim declared and went down the stairs.
Sometime later, Jim and Cassie met back at the car. Cassie had a box full of papers and diaries. She showed it to Jim.
"I'll have to through all this. Have you found anything?" Cassie asked.
Jim shook his head. "Let's go."
Back at the station the mother of Clairice Refenno was gone. She'd had to go to work, Jim was told.
"What do we know about her?" He asked Rafe.
"A widow, living alone with her adult daughter. The father died five years ago. The woman works in a shop. The daughter has a long history of mental problems. Was in therapy most of her life. Nothing so far to indicate the girl has gotten violent before now."
Jim called Blair to tell him about the break. Blair was surprised but also relieved that they had found the secret admirer. He had secretly worried about Jim. This was eating him away. To cheer his lover up he suggested that they try a new restaurant near the campus that his students had recommended. Jim gave in immediately as he didn't want to sit at home and brood over Clairice.
Several hours later, Jim and Blair sat comfortably in a corner of the little restaurant. It was called the Noodle House. Blair had fun reading all names of the different sauces for the noodles to Jim.
"Whoa, cuttlefish. They use ink for the sauce and the noodles become all black. I'll take that!" He grinned "I'll have a black tongue." He showed his still rosy tongue to Jim.
"Can't you eat normal food?"
"Man. What's the point of it?" Blair was trying to help Jim loosen up but couldn't shake a nagging feeling himself. Jim had described Mrs. Refenno to Blair as well as all the new information they'd learned about Clairice. Blair would had loved to have seen the house for himself, sure he would have found something important. Who am I trying to calm here anyway? He felt a restless urge to revert to caveman behavior, shadowing Jim with a club at the ready, prepared to smash anyone who wanted hurt his precious sentinel.
"I'm not sure I like you with a black tongue." Jim commented bemused.
"It's important what my tongue does, not what it looks like." Blair leered at him. Somehow all conversations ended below the belt lately.
Blair ate the cuttlefish and got a black tongue, which he showed to Jim on every occasion accompanied with murmured promises of what he was going to do with it. Jim had a hard time not embarrass himself in the restaurant by jumping his lover. Somehow he suspected that this was Blair's crazy idea of verbal foreplay, to tease him until he almost lost control and wanted to strangle him. Then the smaller man would throw himself on his back and offer his body for ravaging. Somehow, they managed to get home without causing an accident. They ran up the stairs.
"Last one up bottoms!" Blair cried out and shoved Jim out of his way.
"Shh! Are you nuts?" Jim whispered grinning.
"Hah - I win! You are, like, so mine!" Blair laughed at Jim's feigned expression of misery.
Jim recovered fast from his defeat. He cornered his lover and tried to intimidate him with a stern glare. With his best very bad Ranger attitude he pressed himself against Blair, pinning the younger man against the door. He could feel the hot flesh of Blair's dick pressed to his thigh.
"You think you can make me?" He said in a deep, menacing growl. "Hold me down, against my will, stick your teasing, little cock up my ass?"
The mocking tone of the words drove Blair wild. He grabbed Jim's coat hard and hissed: "Open the door, now!"
Jim opened the door and they almost fell in. Blair began frantically tearing at his clothes. He looked accusingly at Jim.
"What are you waiting for, man? Drop your pants!"
Jim didn't need a second invitation. He slipped out of his clothes and followed Blair into his room. Blair was rummaging for the lube and condoms in his nightstand. "Let's go upstairs!"
"Too late man." With that, he pushed Jim face first onto his bed.
Blair straddled his lover's butt and bit him hard in the neck. Jim yelped. The sudden rough playfulness of his peace loving friend amused Jim and he went along with it. He struggled a bit against Blair's hold.
"Don't think I'll ever surrender you. Nobody can make an Ellison beg for release." He growled.
Blair almost spoiled the mood by laughing out loud. He had settled between Jim's long legs. Without warning, he shoved a slick finger inside Jim who bucked so much at the sudden intrusion that he almost threw his lover to the floor. "Oh god, Blair!" Jim roared.
"Shh!" He slapped the butt with his free hand and inserted another finger. "Interrogation will come later. You'll tell me all your secrets and more. I've broke more tough covert ops studs than you can imagine."
Blair was absolutely fascinated by Jim's beautiful butt. It was more the muscular end of his wonderful legs than the usual globe of fat. The muscles clenched in anticipation and it was a spectacular view. This ass is mine he thought possessively. He'd always wanted big Jim at his mercy in his little bed. Blair began to chew on a meaty cheek and with his embedded finger searched for Jim's prostate. Jim began to buck wildly again and the small bed creaked so loudly that Blair was afraid it would break.
In his desperation the older man had stuffed a corner of a pillow in his mouth. The things Blair did to him drove him crazy. Jim was pretty loose. Blair rolled a condom over his painfully hard cock and added more lube. He kneeled between Jim's spread legs and dragged Jim's hips up to get a better angle. He shoved slowly, entering Jim a fraction at a time. Jim whimpered and Blair wasn't sure whether from pain or from pleasure. The older man's brain had melted. The dominance of his younger lover filled him with wicked pleasure. For a moment Blair rested when his balls touched Jim's. This couldn't last, Jim was so tight and he was already so close. Blair reached around and grabbed his lover's cock to pump him while he started to pound hard into him.
After just a few strokes, Jim came and his desperate bucking clenched Blair's dick so mercilessly that he came with a shout. Blair saw stars in front of his eyes and slumped over Jim's back.
"Please! Mighty Blair, spare this old soldier, I'll be good. I'll promise!" Jim pleaded hoarsely.
Blair laughed. The rumble vibrated through Jim. It felt great. Blair got up to discard the condom and snuggled back on top of Jim, who didn't mind the extra weight. After a little nap they got up and crawled in the big bed for a peaceful sleep.
It was very early Tuesday morning and nobody had the slightest intention of getting up to make some breakfast. Jim grimaced at the hard stubble on Blair's cheek. He tried to kiss him with puckered lips to avoid a burn. It didn't work.
"You need a shave and a shower, my little pig!"
"You are the pig!" Blair retorted scrapping at the dried come in the hairline that went from Jim's navel to his cock.
"I'll give you pig!" Jim rolled over his lover and suckled at his throat.
"Ah, ha ha! Now comes the revenge. After enduring endless torture, the butch soldier escaped to take brutal revenge on his tormentor. Ahhiii!" Blair whined.
"You are wrong. The soldier fell in love with his enemy and they lived happily ever after."
Blair sighed at Jim's tender gaze. He laid back boneless and pliant.
"I want to taste you." Jim whispered breathlessly.
"Go ahead, man, do what you want. I'm not exactly a virgin." Blair's body was humming.
Jim lowered himself over Blair's chest and began to lick and nip every spot. He avoided the nipples because he didn't want to arouse his lover too fast. Blair watched Jim with huge eyes. The reverent way Jim explored his body excited him powerfully and not only in a sexual way. The powerful muscles rolled and moved under Jim's smooth skin, making it look like that of a large, dangerous animal. Blair envied his lover's natural beauty. Jim nuzzled his way down the dark hair between Blair's chest and cock. He teased the navel hidden behind soft hair.
"How's feel that?"
"Tickles." Blair managed.
"Is it good?"
"Don't stop or I'll kill you." Blair grinned as if his face would split.
His hard erection had nudged against Jim's shoulder and he thought he was going to explode from lying still. "Please!"
"Babe?"
"Stop teasing, cop, do me!" A harsh command.
Jim gave him a feral look the likes of which Blair had never seen on his lover's face before and swallowed the weeping cock. He carefully probed the slit with his tongue and Blair begun to writhe on the bed like a fish pulled from the water.
"Oh, uhnngg!"
Jim smiled around Blair's dick and did his best to short circuit his lover's brain. He teased Blair's small hole and pushed his digit in to stroke mercilessly over his prostate. Blair threw his head back and gurgled.
This was pure torture. He had always suspected Jim had a mean streak hidden somewhere. With clenched fists he beat the mattress and his lover's back. Suddenly his body went taut and he came with a silent scream. Jim swallowed greedily. He released his lover from his tight grip and looked up at him. Blair was completely limp. He laid boneless, sprawled over the pillows, the palms of his hands turned up. Jim had drained all resistance out of him.
"Are you ready for more?"
Blair eyes fluttered open, he was sure he had learned to speak as a kid but right now, he couldn't remember how. He managed a weak go-on gesture. Jim rolled a condom over his dick and lubed it generously. He hooked Blair's legs over his shoulders. Jim could easily enter him, relaxed as he was. Bending down, Jim kissed him deeply. He sucked at Blair's wiggling tongue - he tasted so good. Blair was still slack and happy to let Jim take the lead. Okay, Jim thought, plan B. He grabbed Blair's arms and draped them over his neck.
"Hold on!"
Blair stared at him with huge eyes. What was coming now? Jim snaked one arm under Blair and used the other for support when he raised them both up.Blair held on desperately. Jim embraced his lover firmly, peppered his face with little kisses and lifted him up slightly to let him slip down on his cock again.
Oh, god! The way Jim impaled him on his cock was sensational. His trapped cock filled again and rubbed against Jim's hard stomach. With an armful of Blair, Jim pistoned them both slowly up and down. He grunted with the strain and his muscles bulged dangerously, but his strength didn't fail. The slow torture was maddening. Blair moaned and came again. Jim gripped him hard and came too. Slowly, Jim let them both slip down on their sides.
When Blair found his voice again he said: "Wow, man! I think I have to start to work out or the athletic sex with you is going to cripple me."
Jim smiled a wolfish grin. He had his head pillowed on Blair's calf, that still hung over his shoulder. Blair's other leg hung over his waist and he was still erect in him. When he softened he pulled gently out of Blair and discarded the condom. He cleaned them up a bit and helped his catatonic lover under the covers. Spooning behind him he immediately fell asleep with a happy grin. He had thoroughly impressed his lover.
Cassie had read halfway through the diaries when she found a letter Clairice had written to a friend. Clairice described an empty house in her neighborhood were she went sometimes to play with stray cats. She described the rooms of the house. That might be her hiding-place, Cassie thought. She thought for a moment about calling Ellison. No, he had been so indifferent when they searched Mrs. Refenno's house. He'd acted as if he didn't really wanted her around. Besides it was only a hunch.
She drove to the address and watched the house for an hour. Nothing moved. She got out of her car and strolled around the house. Everything was quite. There was no sign that anybody was living here. She pulled at the front door. It didn't budge. She walked around to the back door. It was open.
She called out and walked inside cautiously. Inside, she couldn't hear any noise. It was absolutely quiet. She quickly searched through the rooms. There were only a few pieces of furniture covered with layers of dust. Cassie slipped up the stairs, half expecting an attack at any moment. But nobody was there, only more dust. She stood at the top of the steps thinking. There had been no sign that anybody had lived here the past few days. She decided to take a last look into the cellar and leave.
She opened the door that lead downstairs. All was quiet. She began to walk down the dark stairwell. Suddenly, the stairs exploded. In panic Cassie fell.
When Cassie didn't show up for work, they tried to find her. Her assistant reported that last thing she had worked on had been Clairice Refrenno's diaries. He had found the letter with the description of the deserted house. A black and white was dispatched to check the address and discovered her car. The patrolmen went in and found her at the foot of the stairs. Her corpse was already past rigor mortis.
Cassie's body was flown to San Francisco. Her family lived there and they wanted her to be buried at home.
It was the classic funeral weather, heavy gray sky and fog. Dark, huddled forms tried to shield themselves from the icy sea breeze.
Cassie's whole family was there as well as friends and coworkers. Jim was pale and stone-faced. Blair threw worried glances towards his lover. As much he was sorry about Cassie's death, his concern was for the living now. After the quiet service was over, Jim walked off in no particular direction. Blair stumbled after him in the older part of the graveyard.
"Jim!" He pleaded.
Jim turned with a sigh and sank down on a gravestone. He pulled his gloves off and tried to wipe his eyes. Blair stepped in front of him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. After a moment of internal struggle, Jim blurted out.
"Damn! Why her? I mean she was pushy and annoying, but she was good at her job. She would have calmed down eventually. She was so young and had her whole live ahead. This is so unfair, Chief."
Blair squeezed his shoulder.
"And all that because of me. I saved this madwoman's life; I was just trying to do the right thing and she is going to kill everybody around me. Oh, God!" He wept. "Everybody in my life seems to die."
"I can't go on like this anymore, Blair. I can't." He said desperately.
"You have to." Blair said calmly. Jim snorted.
"Look. We can't choose our fate. I mean, some people go through their whole life and nothing terrible happens ever to them while others suffer from the beginning to the end. What's important is how we bear our fate, not what is chosen for us."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I wish Fortune would overlook me. If I haven't helped that woman, Cassie would still be alive." Jim looked back to Cassie's grave.
The grave-diggers were already working to fill in the hole over her casket.
"You can't sit back and do nothing just because you can't predict the consequences of your actions. Others might die because you choose to stay in bed for the rest of your life."
"Yeah, I know, I know, I know!" He groaned painfully. "It's just, it is too much, I can't take any more of this shit. Every time something happens, I feel like a part of me is dying. And I'm terrified that one day nothing will be left of me, only this bottomless darkness inside me."
Blair sighed. He could feel tears for his suffering lover welling up in his eyes. He slung his arms around Jim's shoulders and pressed himself close. Jim clung to him and wept freely. Blair gently stroked the head tucked under his chin.
"Love you," he crooned, " so much. C'mon, let's go home."
"Yeah."
Blair kissed him tenderly. Jim staggered on his feet, grabbed Blair's hand and they headed back to their car.
Consumed by their grief and need for comfort, neither noticed Clairice who observed them with her binoculars from behind a big Mausoleum.
When she saw Blair kissing Jim on the mouth, her breath stopped. This wasn't true, this couldn't be true. She stared after the two men holding hands. Suddenly she turned and ran toward her car. She climbed behind the wheel and looked out of the window, stupefied. She knew Blair lived with Jim for years. Blair had kissed Jim. On the mouth. The open mouth. A rattling sound came out of her throat. He's a pervert, a damn fucking fag. All queers should die! She heard her father's shout. No, she screamed and hit the wheel with her fists over and over in blind rage. Not Jim! It was the boy, the pretty boy, who had corrupted Jim.
He had been married, for God's sake. Blair was going to pay. His pretty face wouldn't look so good after she was done with him. She started the car and pulled into traffic.
Jim and Blair drove back to their motel and unpacked the few things they needed for the night. Jim was quiet and Blair didn't break the silence. Hungry, but somehow without appetite, they went to a diner. Once they were comfortably tucked in a booth, Blair studied the other guests while Jim watched traffic through the window. Everything was tinged blue outside with the last fading light. Unbidden memories of Cassie came up in Blair's head. He ate his food mechanically - it tasted like paper. He glanced at Jim who was caught in his own dark nightmares. He studied the features of his lover. Sorrow and pain made him look older. He could see the weight of Fate Jim had endured in his life etched on this face. Blair's hand crept forward and closed around Jim's fingers. Their eyes met and Jim squeezed the hand for a moment.
"Let's go!" Blair sighed.
Jim nodded.
The impersonal motel room wasn't inviting. They undressed fast and slid under the covers, snuggling to each other. "I don't think I can sleep, Chief."
"Doesn't matter, just close your eyes and be comfortable. Just rest."
Jim sighed and moved around until he found a snuggly position around Blair. Half an hour later he was sound asleep. For Blair sleep wouldn't come. He was too worried. Blair sat almost upright in the bed propped against the pillows. He had Jim cradled on his chest, Jim's head tucked into the crook of his arm.
His lover was in a deep slumber. The young man watched as dawn slowly crept in. The gray light slowly brightened the room. Now and then, he stroked the sleeping man in his arms when light spasms went through the hard body. Jim felt warm and pliant in his embrace. Large and muscled as his lover was Blair nevertheless felt the overwhelming need to protect him at all costs. He leaned his head back against the headboard. He wished he knew a magic trick to ease the memories of pain and suffer that haunted Jim. He peered out of the window. It was still hours before they had to get up.
Jim slightly twitched and his breath came faster. Suddenly he stirred and gaped owlishly at the hotel room.
"Bad dream?" Blair asked gently.
Jim started. He just realized that he was laying against his lover who was tenderly stroking over his chest. He felt Blair's warm breath against his ear. He tried to remember his dream. But he couldn't grasp the elusive pictures - there was only the image of a basketball team.
"No, I don't remember. What time is it?"
"Five o'clock."
"How long have you been awake?"
"A while." Blair lied.
"I want to go home."
"Good idea, man. But you drive." Blair said tiredly.
Jim untangled himself, kissed Blair's stubbled cheek and staggered in the direction of the shower.
The ride back to Cascade was uneventful. Both were very relieved to make it home to the loft.
For several days, Clairice hid, thinking and brooding about James and Sandburg. She needed to make a decision. James was caught in that boyish fag's web. She had to free him from a fate worse than death: living in sin! She would show him the truth. She'd reveal the real Blair, the evil incarnate that Sandburg was.
There was only one thing she had to do to free herself so that if things turned out badly, there was no going back. Nothing would force her back into her old life. She stood in front of the shop for half an hour debating what to do. Then she saw a man with long curly hair who reminded her of Jim's pretty boy. She groped around in her bag until her hand found the cold handle.
She walked into the shop and calmly lifted the gun. She would never forget the look of surprise on her mother's face when she pulled the trigger and shot her point blank in the chest. With a silent scream, the fat woman slid to the floor, her eyes bulging in that big, white face. Clairice looked down. One of her mother's shoes had fallen off. She absently noticed the deformed curled toes. Good thing she hadn't inherited her mother's ugly toes. She turned around and left the shop. All hell broke loose behind her. She got into the car and threw the gun on the passenger seat. Now to deal with the pretty boy. She chose the fastest way to the university.
Jim was sound asleep on the sofa. The past few days had wearied him out. A loud noise woke him from his restless slumber. He stumbled to the door and opened it .
It was Clairice. She held a gun pointed at his chest. You are getting old, Jim dreaded, she got the drop on you bigtime. She pushed into the loft and smiled gently at him.
"Finally, we meet again. Nobody will come between us now. I promise, my lover." Her voice was shaky. "In death nobody will tear us apart."
Oh my God! Jim felt panic rising in him. Crazy people scared him.
"C'mon. You don't want to do that."
"I've seen you with him."
"What are you talking about?" Jim's guts clenched in cold fear.
"That pretty boy. He's not going to be so pretty anymore." She smiled.
"What have you done?" Jim tried to stay calm. Don't lose it, don't lose it!
"A nice package is waiting for him in his office. It'll be a big surprise when it eats his pretty face away." She grinned.
Inside Jim everything died. He attempted to inch closer. She shot. Jim fell like a tree, his head connecting with the floor with a loud crack.
Clairice stared at the still form on the carpet, red was spreading over the tummy. Her hands shook and her knees gave out. She slumped down to the floor. She still held the gun with both hands. She had it trained on Jim and was waiting for him to move again. She wanted to talk to him, explain everything. Make him understood what she was feeling for him.
Blair lifted the big bags and his backpack from the Volvo and went up the stairs. Carefully balancing the heavy objects, he reached for the door of the loft.
"Hey Jim, are you there, open up!" He called out.
Slowly the door swung open and Blair faced a stunned Clairice. Their gazes locked for a few seconds before the figure on the floor caught Blair's eye. Jim's legs were all he could see and they weren't moving.
Clairice raised her gun. Blair dropped his books and bolted. He fell behind the corner of the hall when bullets tore into the wall where he had been standing. Clairice slammed the door shut. Sitting on the floor Blair peeked around the corner. He fumbled frantically for his cell phone. When he finally had the phone activated he couldn't remember Simon's number on the speed dial. The picture of Jim's legs flashed before his eyes. Jim, he screamed inwardly, and somehow pushed the right button.
Please, please, please, he clenched his teeth in desperation. "Banks?"
"Simon!" Blair yelled.
"Where have you be..."
"She has Jim. She is in the loft. I've seen Jim lying on the floor and he's not moving."
"Where are you?" Simon bellowed.
"In the hall. She shot at me. She's inside with Jim."
"Get out of there! Go down to the street. I'm sending backup. Don't do anything stupid!"
"Simon, he wasn't moving!"
"Blair, please, get out of there!"
Blair muttered and closed the phone. "Right. In your dreams, Simon Banks."
Blair headed for the stairs and ran down a flight. He went to the apartment below them and knocked. The elderly Mrs. Thompson opened.
"Hello, Blair."
Blair passed through the door and ran to the far end of the apartment.
Mrs. Thompson turned slowly, puzzled.
"I need to use your fire escape, Mrs. Thompson." He shouted.
"Of course, Blair" The woman started towards him but Blair was already out the window.
He crept up the stairs and laid his ear on the door that led to his former bedroom. Everything was still quiet. Carefully he inserted the key. Damn! The old lock would make a sound when he turned the key. He needed a distraction. He pulled out the cell phone. With the phone in his left hand, he pressed his ear on the door and kept his right hand on the key. He inhaled deeply, sent a silent prayer and pressed the speed-dial. The moment the phone rung in the loft he turned the key.
The door was unlocked now and he opened it a little bit to peek inside. The woman was pacing in front of the living room windows muttering to herself and to the ringing phone. He slipped through the door and pulled it almost close again. Laying on the floor of his room he searched desperately for a useful weapon. Great, he thought, you have your walls hanging full of weapons and nothing is going to help you against a gun. Jim might be able to throw an assegai, but Blair couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a spear.
The answering-machine picked up and he heard Jim's voice on the tape. Blair's heart sank. Clairice walked to the table to hear who was calling. Blair stood quickly up to hide behind one of the open French doors of his room.
He still couldn't hear any sirens and time was running out for Jim. A draft came up between the balcony windows and the open escape door. With horror he watched as the French door to his room began to move. Clairice noticed the movement and the increasing draft. Slowly, she moved closer to the open doors. Blair's heart was hammering so fast, it felt as if it would leap out of his chest. When she stepped through the door he grabbed the nearest thing, a Grecian urn and hit it on her head. The urn shattered in a thousand pieces, Clairice turned and looked surprised at Blair. He groaned in
desperation. Then her vision wavered and she went down to her knees. Blair jumped on her back and crushed her underneath him. He tore the gun from her hand and threw it away. Once she hit the floor, she was out cold. He tied her with a belt and ran out of his room to Jim's side.
Jim was laying on his side, the whole front of his white shirt soaked with blood. Oh God! Blair dialed Simon again.
"I need an ambulance, now!"
"Where is she? We are close to the loft!" Simon urged. "An ambulance is on its way."
"I got her!" Blair laid the phone down. "Jim, honey, say something." Blair took Jim's face gently into his hands. "C'mon, baby, don't leave me alone! Don't do this to me!"
He caressed the motionless man. His whole being hurt. This was the end. He clutched Jim to his chest. He should never have left him. His big, butch lover always thought he was invincible. That he didn't need protection, but Blair was there to protect him from everything.
And he had failed.
"My head hurts."
"What?"
"Ouch, my head. Someone used it as a football." Jim touched his head, rolling on his back.
Blair looked at Jim. He didn't seem to feel the wound at his stomach.
"Where is she?" Jim asked, suddenly remembering why he was on the floor.
"In my room, tied up." Blair assured him.
Blair searched for the wound. He lifted Jim's shirt and found a bleeding scratch on the side of Jim's waist where the bullet had grazed him. Unbelievable relief flooded through him. He grinned.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, babe, I'm just happy that you are okay." Blair began to sob and laugh.
A moment later, the police arrived and he stood up to open the door. His body felt like lead.
With his concussion, Jim spent the next week flat on his back in the hospital. No reading, TV or visitors were allowed. He was bored to death. Blair suggested he should spend time sleeping to build up strength for the mind blowing sex Blair promised. He explained to Jim that he didn't mind that Jim often hit his head, even if this would probably lead to early dementia, as long as other important parts of his anatomy still worked. When Jim threatened him with involuntary abstinence, Blair behaved himself for a while.
Although Jim joked every time his lover came to visit, he was still brooding about the events of the last few weeks.
Cassie's death had been an accident. The explosion under that stairs had been harmless. It was only made to scare people away. Cassie had lost her balance, fallen and broken her neck. The psychologist had explained to him that anybody who had shown Clairice any attention would have become her target. Nevertheless, Jim felt responsible. He longed to get home and hide behind Blair.
While Jim recovered in the hospital, Blair kept the loft clean and planned to cheer his lover up when he came home. He hadn't been fooled by Jim's light mood. The older man hadn't yet dealt with what had happened. Blair resolved to create a comfy home for his lover. Everything in perfect order and mind blowing sex is the best way to make a Neanderthal happy, thought the anthropologist.
When Jim was back home and fit again, Blair was ready for his first strike. He towed his lover up the stairs and sat down on the bed.
Curiously Jim asked: "What now?"
"Undress me!" Blair smiled wickedly.
"That could take time."
Blair only chuckled. Jim took Blair's shoes and socks off, pulled the sweatshirt over his head and unbuttoned the plaid flannel shirt. He worked the jeans open and dragged them off. Next came the T-shirt. Good heavens! Blair wore a black bodice. The thing was so snugly on Blair's body that it looked like a second skin. It was transparent at strategically interesting places. It looked incredibly erotic. Where had Blair found it? Jim didn't even know they made things like that for men. On both biceps were black tattoos that looked like tribal signs.
"What are these?" Jim touched the marks tentatively.
"Don't worry. They'll disappear in a few days."
Jim trailed his fingers over the front of the bodice. It felt soft, silken. He bent and mouthed the nipple ring through the cloth. Blair hissed and let his finger run through Jim's hair.
Jim stood up and started to undress. He decided to put up a show. Slowly and sensually, he let his clothes slide from his body. Blair leaned back on his elbows with a hungry look. His eyes were all black, his breath was deep and fast. He saw not only see the magnificent, powerful body but also the gentle and vulnerable heart of his lover.
When Jim finally stood naked before him, the younger man scooted backwards over the bed dragging his lover with him. He positioned Jim in the middle of the bed and propped him up against the pillows. Blair threw lube, condoms and two black rings on the mattress next to him. Jim grinned.
"Who are these for?"
"For you, buddy." Blair's voice was deeper than usual.
He settled on Jim's thighs and slipped one ring over Jim's cock. Jim hissed and his cock hardened more. Blair fondled the heavy sacs and rolled them between his hands.
"Are you ready?"
Blair's swelling dick was really stretching the bodice now. Blair reached between his legs and unfastened the opening,. His cock sprang free. Jim gulped. Blair towered over him like a black devil. The hair swung wild around his head and the cut off sleeves defined his broad shoulders and muscular arms.
Blair leaned forward and began to suck at Jim's tits. He dug his nails across the smooth skin and scraped along Jim's chest. The stimulation raced to his cock and hardened his member even more. Jim stroked over Blair's arms and the soft garment. Their cocks touched occasionally and every time, Jim felt like he'd received an electric shock. Blair licked over the crown of Jim's dick for a moment then ripped a condom open and rolled it over.
"Ready?"
Jim nodded. Blair crouched forward and positioned himself over Jim cock. He sank down slowly, engulfing Jim. The older man arched of the bed from the overwhelming sensation. Fire coursed through his body. Blair gripped Jim's wrists and held them over to his head. He wanted to posses his lover, make sure he was his and his alone. He bent down and flickered his tongue over Jim's lips. Jim opened his mouth willingly. Blair slipped his tongue in and rubbed it over Jim's palate. The feeling made Jim's toes curl. The sensual stimulation heightened the powerful experience of Blair riding his cock. He pressed his legs into Jim's sides and began to fuck himself on the thick cock. Harder and harder he rocked up and down, drunken on his lover's surrender and the power he had over him. Jim moaned and groaned under Blair's firm restraint.
The young man whimpered every time Jim hit his prostate. When he felt Jim was close, he slowed down to draw out the pleasure. Finally, Jim couldn't take it anymore. He was writhing under Blair like mad, completely incoherent. Blair bent down and began to bite into the hard, bulging pecs. Jim cried out and came, shuddering violently. Blair came a moment later.
Blair's hands became soft and Jim embraced him, cradling him close while both racked with small shudders. When Blair moved a bit, Jim slipped out and got rid of the condom and the ring. They snuggled back and slept into the afternoon.
End Flowers of Evil.