Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hi! I know I've posted to the list,
like, everyday but I wrote a Christmas story as a pressie for my friends
and they said I should post it. If this bothers anyone I am sorry. I tried
to erase my name from Santa's Naughty list by writing a second story "Christmas Bells, Those Christmas Bells". I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!!
And a Sentinelsational New Year!

Gena

*****

Cassie Wells looked over her shoulder and hurried on. He'd been following her for almost a block now. She could feel the tightness in her chest, growing, blocking the flow of air into her lungs. She fumbled for her inhaler, its smooth surface comforting in her hand. She knew she shouldn't have done this, Ellison had warned her after all. Even Blair had been against it, but like a one-trick pony she'd forged ahead heedless of their warnings. Now, it seemed as if she were going to pay for her carelessness.

Footsteps; shuffling, stopping when she did. Cassie quickened her pace, putting a few more yards between her and her pursuer. Her breath was coming in painful gasps now, each gulp audible in the cold air. She rounded a corner, her van looming like the Promised Land, and searched for the keys. She patted her pockets, rummaged through the small bag she carried and still came up empty handed. A sudden terrifying image popped into her head; a smiling teenager, her name tag proclaiming her HEATHER, and lying on the counter as Heather counted back her change - car keys!

God, if she survived this Ellison would kill her. His opinion of her had dropped quite a bit in the last week, getting killed would just confirm his suspicions of incompetence. He'd already become colder than Frosty the Snowman after her flirting with Blair. She'd known coming on to Sandburg was a mistake, she'd seen Jim's interest in his partner, it was kind of hard to miss, but Blair was so adorable! Death by Faceless Assailant or Pissed Off Detective, what did it matter? She'd be dead either way. Damn! Sagging against the side of a building, Cassie assessed her options; she could turn around and confront the man, she could run for it but didn't think her asthma would let her get very far, or she could fight. Well, no one had ever said Cassandra Sue Wells lacked courage....or had they said she lacked brains? Whatever.

"What the hell do you want?" Cassie wheezed as she whirled around to face the person who'd followed her. He stood motionless, staring at her. Well, he must have been staring at her she couldn't tell for sure. He wore a white ghost mask, it's mouth open in an elongated scream, eye sockets black holes where she couldn't see any hint of a a face behind it. He tilted his head, gazing at her inquisitively and then brought his hand out from behind his back. It was the biggest knife Cassie had ever see. A silver blade curved out from the hilt like a shiny exclamation point and coupled with his stance Cassie got the impression she'd just been sentenced to a painful death.

"OHMYGOD!" All thoughts of James Ellison, his partner Blair and what the rest of Cascade PD would say, deserted Cassie as she backed away. The figure advanced, slowly, step by step he followed in her wake keeping the ten paces between them as she sought escape. Her heart slammed against her ribs, keeping air from entering her lungs except for thin, ragged gasps she forced them to continue. Cassie felt the cold metal of her van touch her back and scrabbled around it, hoping to keep the monster at bay. Black dots whirled before her eyes as her weak lungs failed to supply her with oxygen, she could feel the rivulets of sweat coursing down her temples, and back. This was it, there was no escape and all because of a movie.

"I hear it's frightening, Cassie," Jim had warned. "Yeah, totally more intense than Scream," Blair had agreed. They'd continued to caution her, saying they were going but advising her not to tag along. She'd gotten the idea Jim, especially, didn't want her to attend with them. He could get pretty possessive when it came to people spending too much time and attention on Blair. She'd watched them drive away, Jim smiling and Blair waving and then she'd followed them to this out of the way theater showing Scream 2. It had been frightening! She'd covered her face during the bloodiest scenes and screamed as actors kept popping out unexpectedly. Once she'd seen Jim look around, his eyes probing the darkness as if he'd heard her but he looked passed where she sat in the corner and gone back to watching the flick. Cassie'd had the urge to throw herself on his mercy then, wanting his big strong arms wrapped securely around her as Neve Campbell fought off the killer. She'd even started down the aisle, thinking maybe Jim and Blair would just laugh and let her sit beside them, but one look had stopped her.

Ellison, sitting on the aisle had his right arm wrapped around Blair's shoulders, the curly head pressed against his neck, his face in the curls, as he shielded both of their eyes from the splatter-fest taking place in front of them. "This is so cool, man!" Blair had yelled. Cassie hadn't waited for Jim's reply, just bolted from the theater and paced around the lobby for a few minutes. Heather had supplied Junior Mints and her inhaler had provided much needed air, but her mind hadn't supplied any answers. "I'll be right back," she'd told Heather when the kid had asked what else she could get for her. What a mistake! Now, she was a goner.

The ghost masked attacker raised his knife and feigned left, Cassie went to her left and slipped on a patch of ice. She went down on one knee, her inhaler flying from her hand. "No!" Cassie wailed but it was too late, the precious tube had disappeared into the darkness. She gasped, struggling to fill her lungs but it was no use, her heart thundered in her ears seeming to admonish her to breathe but she couldn't. Collapsing onto the frozen pavement, Cassie could only gaze up with watery eyes as the killer stood over her. This was it, she had interfered in her last case, she'd decoded her last secret script, she'd worn her last cute skirt, she'd made her last attempt at coming between Jim and Blair. As Cassie laid there, cold seeping through her body, wheezing like a steam train, she found herself wishing she'd never come to Cascade, Washington and never met either James Ellison or Blair Sandburg. The killer's knife gleamed in the moonlight. Cassie closed her eyes as it began it's smooth decent and sucked in a tiny breath, "Why?" she panted. The killer's down stroke, faltered, the blade stopping mere inches from her chest.

"Why?" It repeated. "Syd....I mean, Cassie, it's simple. You followed the rules perfectly and this is your reward." The figure bent closer and Cassie could feel the heat of it's body against the chill night air. One hand gathered together the lapels of her forest green coat and raised her up. Face to mask, Cassie still couldn't see behind the ghost but something seemed familiar about her attacker. "Poor Cassie," he whispered, "you come in here knowing everything; a woman wanting to prove herself in this man's world. You claim to be an expert forensic officer, you've built yourself a super-sonic mobile crime lab, your minor was cryptology, and you dress like Ally McBeal. You're a threat, Cassie and I can't let it get out of hand." Cassie never saw the smile beneath the killer's mask as her chest heaved once, a rough, ragged gulp as her fight for breath failed. She gasped loudly and began to expire. She only felt a moment's flash of pain, a fire which consumed her last gasp followed by the searing cold which replaced everything. She didn't see the masked man stand, staring at her lovely face for a moment before turning away. She never saw him strip off the mask and black gown and stuff them into a deep hole and walk away without a backwards glance.

"Jim!" Blair squeaked as his partner settled into the seat beside him. The carnage on the screen had reached an all time high and he'd found himself wishing for the solid presence of his partner. But Jim had excused himself and headed for the restroom. Now, here he was sliding in beside Blair and then pulling him closer. "God, man, you missed the best part," Blair continued, "Gale was trapped in the broadcast booth, and Dewey saw the killer and Cotton was hanging around....awesome movie man, totally scary." He shot a sidelong glance at his partner, noting the amused smile on Jim's lips. "Take care of your little problem?"

"Yep," Ellison assured him, "I took care of everything." He reached over for the popcorn, hand closing on Blair's as his partner did the same. For one electric moment they both stared down at their joined hands, the Blair slowly met his partner's eyes.

"Cassie would have been scared to death, wouldn't she have?" Sandburg asked with a huge smile breaking over his features.

"Yeah," Jim said, "I think it's safe to say if Cassie had come to this movie she probably would be dead by now."

"That would be a shame, man," Blair told him. When Jim frowned, Sandburg laughed, "she was the only thing standing between us. Without her who knows what might become of our relationship."

Jim leaned closer, his lips brushing Blair's curls back before his warm breath whispered across his exposed ear, "Who knows, indeed. We can always skip the ending and go home to explore the possibilities." The hungry look he received in response, had Jim pulling his partner to his feet. They were crossing the parking lot towards the truck when Blair tapped his partner's shoulder.

"Hey, does that van look like Cassie's to you?"

"Nope," Jim answered as he unlocked the door for Blair and then went around to his own side and climbed inside.

Snow fell on Cascade that night, covering the city with a pristine blanket which made the whole place look lovely. Cassie Wells' staring eyes gazed up towards the bright and sunny morning sky, her face white and lifeless. Everyone who saw her said it was such a shame but someone with asthma that bad shouldn't really go to a movie as scary as Scream 2. Ellison and Sandburg had tried to warn her but.....well, that was Cassie, wasn't it? She never listened to anybody. And now she was dead.

*****

Merry Christmas. Gena '97

And now to redeem myself:

*****

Blair Sandburg looked around. The Christmas Eve party wasn't going well. Oh sure, people were dancing and laughing, music was playing, the Christmas tree looked like a dream come true but it wasn't going well in his opinion. He stood near the bullpen door, chewing on a cookie and watching the cops get down. Desks had been shoved aside for a dance floor and Jim's desk held a huge punch bowl filled with some green stuff. He sighed and cast a glance over at Ellison.

Jim danced like a professional. For a big, muscular guy he was graceful and light on his feet, he had rhythm and knew the steps. Blair sighed again. If he was granted his Christmas Wish he would find himself wrapped in those arms. It was hard to be in love with your partner, especially when he didn't know it. And he never would, Blair had vowed. If Jim ever found out he'd probably freak and then kick Blair out in the snow. No, it was better to suffer in silence.

"Hey, Hairboy," Henri Brown greeted. "Sam was for you," he said. Blair grimaced and thanked Brown for the warning. He'd been avoiding her for weeks now and the skimpy present he'd gotten her would just confirm her suspicions that they were no longer and item. But Blair hadn't had the money to spend on Sam like she'd wanted. He'd bought Jim a present, nothing fancy, just a battered tackle box filled with lures, but someone had loved it and taken great care of it. Blair had found himself sad when he saw it rusting at a flea market and he'd bought it. Jim, he knew, would carefully repair them and cherish them as the original owner had. Blair had then taken what little money he had left and gone to St. Timothy's, drawn by the bells tolling in the darkness. He'd always favored Catholic churches at Christmas time, they just seemed to personify the season. Standing before a charity box with candles glowing all around and the sound of a choir filling the air, he'd deposited the gift and said a silent prayer for the thing he wanted most on the Holy Night.

"What's wrong, Chief?" Jim's quiet voice startled Blair, he jerked around and found himself standing face to face with his partner.

"Jim! Do not sneak up on me, man," he growled. "I hate that!" Ellison didn't answer, his light blue eyes held a glimmering light as he gazed down at Blair and the tiny smile on his lips made him look as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa. Blair found himself holding his breath when Jim reached out and clasped his face between strong hands. It was a gesture Ellison often used, holding his face still and staring into his eyes, but usually it was after some traumatic event not in the middle of the office Christmas Party.

Blair could only pray he didn't pass out as Jim leaned down, his lips brushing Blair's. An electric current seemed to pass between them, stealing the breath from both men's bodies as their lips locked together. It was the most erotic kiss Blair had ever experienced; it was fire and ice against his mouth, burning his soul and chilling his skin. His lips parted for the tongue gently tracing his mouth and sighed as Jim's tongue met his. He could hear Christmas bells and people singing and for the rest of his life he knew I'll Be Home for Christmas would conjure this image in his heart.

Jim broke away, leaving him more lonely than he'd ever felt in his life. "Why...why'd you do that," Blair demanded. He couldn't raise his eyes, couldn't bear to look into his partner face for fear of what he'd see. But Jim raised his chin with one finger and smiled.

"Look," he ordered and pointed above them. A sprig of mistletoe hung from a red ribbon over the doorway. Blair grinned and nodded but Jim didn't return the smile. "But not because of that," he reached down and squeezed Blair's shoulder, "because I've wanted to for a long time, that just gave me an excuse." Now he smiled and Blair felt his heart melt.

"Let's go home, Chief." Blair stared at him, eyes filling with tears as he realized his one prayer had been answered. Jim reached up and wiped the single tear away, his own eyes sparkling. "We need to stop by St. Timothy's on the way."

"Why?" Blair asked. Had Jim seen him? Had his Sentinel tracked him down to the church, smelling his scent on the money like some bloodhound?

Ellison ducked his head, refusing to look at Blair for a moment and then taking a deep breath he said, "I heard the bells last night and...and stopped in to say a prayer. I asked God to let

me find the courage I needed to tell you how I feel. I asked Him to let me have your love for the rest of my life. I just thought I'd like to stop by and listen to the bells ringing and maybe say thank you." He met Blair's gaze hesitantly, "unless there's nothing to thank Him for."

"I think thanking God for the rest of our lives is in order,"

Blair whispered. He caught Jim's hand and pulled him towards the elevator. "Can I tell you that I love you?"

"That's the answer to my prayer," Ellison said. They drove to the church in silence and parked where they could see the beautiful old building rising up towards heaven. Snow began to fall as they sat there and the ringing of the bells was like angels

singing from on high. Blair looked over at Jim, amazed by the depth of his feelings for this man. Ellison grinned and leaned over to kiss his lips gently and then together they followed the crowd inside.

*****

End