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I'd like to thank debraC for her help and insight into this story.
Disclaimer: The Sentinel is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount.
I'm not quite sure what I was expecting when I stepped off the plane. I had pictured our reunion a hundred different ways, everything from the corner of his mouth twitching upward like it did when I came back from that visit with Naomi four months after I moved in with him, to his laying a lip lock on me that would make all the women around us swoon with envy. Okay, so the last one was pure fantasy on my part, but it didn't stop me from playing with the scenario a few times in my head on the flight home.
Of course, in all my daydreams I did actually expect Jim to be at the airport.
My first thought was that he had been hurt, but a quick call to Rhonda put that fear to rest.
"Hey, Blair. No, Jim left with Simon about a half hour ago to get ready for the poker party at Henri's. You can probably reach him on his cell. By the way, how's the conference going?"
So, here I stand, duffel bag and backpack in hand and no way to get home.
Forgotten.
I know I sent him my itinerary because he sent me an email back telling me not to bother with a cab, that he'd pick me up.
So, where in the hell was he?
I know we hadn't parted on the best terms, but damn it, I had to go to this conference. Jim sometimes forgets that I have another job, besides being a police observer. Master jugglers can't deal with as many balls as I do between going to class, researching, writing my dissertation, teaching, giving tests to not only Jim but my students as well, grading, learning police procedure so I don't embarrass Jim, making sure the sentinel doesn't zone, typing police reports, playing peacemaker so Simon doesn't find a reason to discontinue my ride-along pass and a myriad of other things. As everyone is so fond of reminding me, I'm not a cop. I do have other obligations, damn it.
I take a deep breath and release it slowly.
Listen to me. What am I? Some sort of weepy woman all bent because her boyfriend forgot some stupid anniversary? Get over yourself, Sandburg, and get yourself a friggin cab.
"And just where do you think you're going, Rafe?" Joel laughed congenially, leaning back in his chair as his friend got up from the table. "I happen to know you still have twenty dollars on your person and it's my intention to take every penny you brought with you tonight."
Rafe chuckled. "Joel, you've been on fire tonight, but have some mercy on a poor junior detective. Besides, I need my money for lunch tomorrow since I'm going to be stuck downtown in court all day."
"I thought you didn't have to testify until Friday," Jim said, looking up from his cards and trying to hide his frown -- lady luck did not love him tonight.
Rafe crossed his eyes slightly. "Uh, Earth to Ellison, tomorrow is Friday."
An icy fist gently squeezed Jim's stomach. "No, that can't be right. Today's..."
"Thursday," Simon supplied helpfully, then added in a slightly mocking tone, "Remember? You solved the Henson murder this morning and it took you all afternoon to get me the damn report. Yesterday was Wednesday, by the way."
"Oh, shit. Shit. Shit," Jim murmured under his breath, slamming his chair back and looking at his watch.
Henri looked confused. "What is it?"
"Sandburg. I forgot Sandburg. If today's Thursday, then his plane got in two hours ago. Shit."
Peterson shook his head in confusion. "So he took a cab. What's the big deal?"
"He's been gone for two weeks and has been on a plane all damn day. He's going to be exhausted," Jim said, more to himself than to the detectives around him. "Crap. I gotta go. Simon can you catch a ride with..."
"I'll take him home, Jim," Joel offered.
Jim nodded his appreciation then spun on his heels and raced toward the front of the house.
Peterson rolled his eyes the moment the front door slammed shut. "They're so married."
"And someone's not getting any 'welcome home' booty neither," Henri added, causing the detectives around the table to titter like high school girls.
The hot water pulsing over my head and down my chest is heavenly. What is it about airline travel that makes you feel incredibly dirty even though all you do is sit? I lean my head back on my shoulders and hold my breath, letting the warm water spray over my face until the need to breath becomes overwhelming. I turn my back to the torrent, gasping for breath then moaning with pleasure. And to think, I was worried that this pulsating nozzle thingy would be too much for Jim's senses. I swear, there are days I would kill to appreciate things on the level he's capable of doing.
As the water cools slightly, I decide to get out before I ruin the nice toasty effect I've got going. I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, then use the other one to towel dry my hair. I play with the idea of shaving, but I'll just have to do it again in the morning so decide to skip it for tonight.
I toss my dirty clothes in the hamper, then brush my teeth, starting to feel vaguely human again.
Well, the original plan was to go into work with Jim tomorrow, but he can kiss my ass. I fully intend to sleep until noon; then I'll get up and do laundry. I should see if Alyssa's back in town yet. She's always good for a lazy weekend.
Opening the bathroom door, I pad toward my room, drying my hair as I go. I hate sleeping with wet hair, and yet am too tired to blow dry it tonight.
I walk into a solid wall of flesh, and a gasps escapes me before I identify the intruder.
Warm hands gently grip my upper arms and hold me steady. "Easy there, Chief. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"Shit, Jim," I whisper, then take a deep breath to calm my wildly beating heart. "Not quite the welcome home I was hoping for."
"I'm sorry, Sandburg, I just..."
I shrug his hands off and walk toward my room. "Forgot. No big deal."
"Sandburg..."
I turn to face him. "Look, you obviously had more important things to do and I caught a cab. Now if you don't mind, I'm a little tired."
"So I'll see you in the morning?" he asks, almost like he's trying to reassure himself.
"Well, not the morning. Maybe in the afternoon if I get all my stuff done."
"But I thought..."
"You thought what?" I ask in exasperation.
Jim blinks once, then lowers his gaze, but without warning it bounces back to my face. His face reddens slightly.
"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned, taking a step toward him.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "Good night, Sandburg."
"Are you sure?" I persist, not liking the color of his cheeks.
"Jesus, Sandburg. I said I was okay. Why can't you just let things go for once?"
I blink in astonishment. "Fine." I stomp toward my room, but his attitude just pricks me. I'll be damned if I give him the last word. "You know what, Ellison...you can...you can..."
"I can what?" he growls at me, his fists jammed against his hips.
"You can just suck me dry, asshole."
If asked, I know I'd never be able to articulate the sequences of events of what happened next. One moment, I'm turning toward my room, knowing that sleep is only a fantasy, and the next my back and hands are pinned to the wall outside my bedroom door.
"Okay," Jim whispers seductively.
"Okay, what?" I demand, trying to push myself off the wall with my shoulders, but he has me too securely pinned.
Jim sniffs deeply at the juncture of my neck and shoulder, his tongue flicking out and tasting the newly washed skin. "Okay, I'll suck you dry."
I still instantly, my heart dropping to my stomach. "That's not funny, man."
"It's not meant to be." His teeth scrape lightly against my neck.
"Get off me, Ellison," I say as calmly as I can.
"Not just yet."
I try taking several deep breaths, but nothing is working. Jim's mouth is teasing me beyond resistance and I bite my lower lip to prevent the moan welling up from my soul from escaping.
I can't tell you the number of fantasies I've had over the last three years that have begun like this, but nothing I've dreamed of has ever been as hot as this exact moment. But while my id is enjoying itself immensely, my ego knows better.
"Ell...Jim...I'm sorry," I whisper, letting the fight drain from my body, willing the towel to stay on my hips as my muscles slacken.
Jim rubs his cheek against my neck, then lightly presses his forehead against mine. "No, I'm sorry," he whispers, our lips just inches apart. "I was on stakeout last night, then early this morning I had some clues fall together and solved the Hansen murder, then spent most of the day back-dating reports because I got a little behind while you were gone. I honestly had no idea what day it was. But that doesn't excuse..."
"Forgetting me?" I ask when he hesitates.
"Yes."
We stand in silence for several moments, neither of us moving, sharing each other's breath as our chests heave quietly toward each other.
"I was hurt," I finally admit.
"I know. I'm so sorry, Blair."
I huff in amusement. "I'll survive." A full minute passes and still neither of us moves apart. "So, uh, what's with the caveman act?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant as I wiggle my fingers over the hands which have mine pinned to the wall.
"Yeah, about that..." he says softly, his face reddening a bit.
I raise a questioning eyebrow at him.
"I want you. Have, actually, for a while. And when you said...what you did, I...uh..."
"I'm sorry," I apologize, trying hard not to react to the meaning behind his words. "I shouldn't have said that. It was rude, but I was..."
"Mad?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
Jim shrugs his shoulders. "I had it coming."
"Yeah, you did."
I grin at him and he grins back at me.
"Soooooo?" I try to lift my hands off the wall, but Jim's grip keeps me firmly in place. "Jim?"
"Sorry," he says softly, brushing his lips over mine. "But you did offer."
"What?"
Jim presses his hips forward, until there's no mistaking the erection hidden under my towel.
"You want this," he moans softly over my mouth, although our mouths never quite touch.
"Not like this," I protest, torn between fighting him off and lifting my head to capture the lips tormenting me with their nearness.
"You want it exactly like this," he tells me. "You want me to take this decision out of your hands. You like the caveman."
It takes every ounce of will power not to arch against him, not to admit that he's right.
"Do you have any idea how many nights I've listened to you moan my name in your sleep?"
"What--"
His lips are millimeters above mine. "Do you have any idea how hot it makes me?"
"I--"
His breath burns my face. "Or how long I've waited for you to say something, anything to let me know it wasn't my imagination?"
"I --"
"At first, I thought it was because you didn't want to ruin your objectivity. But as the years passed, I realized it's because you're scared."
"Scared? I don't--"
He teases me with his lips. They draw closer, only to move away at the last second. They tease my hair and my neck, but never my mouth, even though he moves back to it over and over again. "Not of me. Of you. Of what I mean to you. Everyone knows you wormed your way under my radar. Complete strangers talk about it on the street. But what no one realizes is that I've broken through your defenses. Everyone thinks you're so open, so free with your emotions. No one realizes you're locked up tighter than I am."
"You don't know jack, Jack."
"Oh, I know you, Blair Sandburg. I know you better than any human on the planet. I know you better than you know yourself."
I lift my chin defiantly. "And just what do you think you know?"
"That you love me." He grinds his hips lightly against the towel.
"Lust and love are two different things, man."
"It's never been about lust for you, Blair. Not with me.
I close my eyes, not wanting him to see how close to the truth he's getting. He shifts and moves both of my hands under his right one. His left hand lightly trails down arm right arm, causing goosebumps to spring to the surface of my skin.
"I've heard women talk. They say you're good in the sack, but you've never truly given yourself to anyone? Why is that, Blair?"
His breath teases my cheek and I turn my head away from it.
"Over the years you've hidden yourself behind this friendly mask. You're afraid that if anyone saw the real you, they wouldn't be able to handle it. That they'd reject you. And over the years you've had a lot of people reject you, haven't you?"
"Fuck you," I hiss at him.
"Eventually, beloved. Eventually."
I snap my eyes open and glare at him, which only makes him smile.
"What I didn't realize was that you were waiting for me to take the decision out of your hands."
I laugh harshly. "You make me sound like some heaving bosomed heroine out of a romance novelist."
He smiles, but it's feral. "And I'm going to do it," he says as if he hadn't heard my quip.
"Buuuut," I taunt, knowing he's all talk. He wants to scare me for pushing him, fine, but I'm not turning into a quivering roll of jelly for him.
"But nothing." His free hand gently pulls the towel from my hips. I forget how to breathe as his hand palms my need. I turn my head, refusing to look at him, but his hand dances up my torso and lightly grips my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. He leans forward, his lips almost touching mine, his breath once again warming my face. His body gently moves against mine.
I try to hold strong, try to resist him, but his warmth combined with his musky scent is overwhelming me. The next time his lips move in closer, I lunge forward and attach myself to them, driving my tongue into his mouth. He immediately releases my hands and starts ripping his shirt off his body, even as he opens his mouth wider to me.
I feel like a starving man standing in front of a banquet table. My hands scramble for his belt as I bite at his lips. As soon as his pants are removed, he pushes me backward into my room and onto my bed. His body covers mine and it seems like his hands and lips are everywhere.
"Jim." I gasp for breath even as my body arches beneath his.
His mouth trails down my neck to my chest, immediately seeking my nipple ring. He tugs on it slightly with his teeth and I almost throw him off the bed. He chuckles sensuously and does it again and again and again, until I'm screaming at him to do something, anything.
And he does. He moves down my body and swallows my erection whole.
I have no doubt our neighbors are all dialing 911 at the moment but I couldn't care less. Jim brings my knees up and parts my legs, taking me deeper down his throat. I try thrusting upward, but he holds my hips to the mattress, never relenting as he nibbles and bites, sucks and teases. My hands shred the blanket beneath me. My head thrashes back and forth and I have to close my eyes as my world blurs. Jim's thumb teases my entrance and the sensation pushes me over the edge. My scream rattles the windows and I actually manage to lift him temporarily off the bed before collapsing, chest heaving, my vision graying out.
When I come back to myself, when I can hear over the roar of the ocean in my ears, when my breathing calms, I look for him. He's laying beside me with his elbow resting on a pillow, his chin in the palm of his hand, looking down at me with the most content smile on his face.
I blink at him, unable to remember simple linguistic skills.
"I know," he whispers.
My hand reaches for his hip, and he guides my hand toward his sticky heat. "I haven't exploded that intensely...ever," he informs me.
I shake my head, not understanding. He didn't...
"Yes, I did. For a moment, I scared myself. I thought I might have shot myself inside out."
I huff with amusement as another wave of lethargy washes over me. Jim wraps his arms around me and holds me tight. I hear him murmuring something in my ear, but I can't process what he's saying, but the tone sounds nice and I allow it to guide me into a deeper sleep.
I rise through the layers of sleep with the distinct impression that I'm being watched. Blinking my eyes open, I find Jim beside me, studying my face.
"Fascinating," he whispers, which causes me to frown. "Your face is completely at rest when you sleep, but as you wake up it's like watching you put on different layers of shirts."
What in the world am I supposed to say to something like that?
I open my mouth to speak, but he covers it with a gentle hand. "No, I don't regret last night. Yes, I do remember everything. No, it wasn't the way I had planned, but I'm a shoot from the hip sort of guy so I can live with it. I've decided I'm not waiting for you to work up your nerve to do stuff anymore. In this," and he waves a hand between us, "I will be the guide."
I grin at him and he leans down to kiss me.
"And most importantly, while I forgot what day it was, you were and never have been forgotten, Blair Sandburg, and never will be."
~- End -~