(Rated PG)
Warning: Alternate Reality and a very unlikely Mary Sue here; she's just an alternate ego who knows Blair belongs to Jim

Notes: sort-of-a sequel to "Patt's Reckoning"

The Mary Sue-San Series #2

The telephone rang and rang in the loft. It rang insistently until Jim Ellison unwrapped his muscles from around his Guide, and trudged downstairs.

"Ellison, dammit--"

"Jim, this is Susan. Is Blair awake, I need to speak to him, please?"

Ellison wiped his hand right down his face and scowled. Now, what? Patt, again? He loved his little pal, but he'd planned to surprise Blair with bagels and...

"Ji--um! You there?"

"Yeah, still here. I'll call him."

Jim bounded up the stairs. Blair was snuffling and making little piggy noises. He had the comforter swathing him to the chin. Jim sat on the bed, and eased the covers down, down to reveal naked velvetty skin. He puckered his lips and stuck out his tongue and traced it down the veins along Blair's arm. With his sentinel sight he could see and hear the blood rushing, gushing in through his veins.

"Hmmm, hmmm, Jimmm, Jimmm," came Blair's muffled murmur.

"Wake up, honey, Susan's on the phone. She sounds a little--off. Needs to speak with you. But, can't she--"

Jim's arm around Blair's shoulders fell as Blair grunted, sitting up. He pecked Jim's lips with a good morning-breath kiss. "Hi, hon...Susan's on the phone..."

Blair's rear end flashed as he raced downstairs.

Anyone but a Sentinel would've gotten only one side of the conversation, but Jim tended to eavesdrop on Blair and Susan's communications.

"Blair, I desperately need you this morning. I'm stuck in a story for JimandBlair-slash. Please!"

"Susan, don't cry! I'll be right over...No, Jim doesn't mind. This is Saturday..."

Blair switched the phone to off and smiled. "I'll be right back,Jim...won't take me long."

Jim looked at his watch, and sternly at his husband. "I'll be counting minutes here, Chief. Watch out for her hands."

*******

Susan opened the door to find her Muse. Yes! He said he'd rush, and there he was, in his plaid robe, at her door.

She simpered and wheedled, "Oh, Adored One, I need some inspiration. Did you bring your jumper cables?"

Lord, that man's blue eyes began to twinkle. His eyes sparkled and glistened like rain on a daffodil. "Susan, where do you want me to place these jumper cables?"

"On my brain, silly man. Where'd ya think? Is Cave Man Ellison outside, listening?"

Blair laughed. "'Course not, honey. He's home making breakfast."

He turned to the door. "Now, lemme go get my cables, you get your keyboard ready."

"Will do!"

Well, Blair had labored as a car mechanic at Handy Dancy Fix Her Up in his undergraduate years, and he revved up Susan's brain. He put her cells on an exercise bike.

She hummed and began posting new parts to her works in progress, when the phone blared. Darn it. She was typing with one hand, and Blair was holding the other one.

She got up. It was The Man Himself. On The Phone. Growling at her. "You hussy! Send Blair home to me, N. O. W!

Susan jumped into poor Blair's lap, knocking them both ass-over-teakettle. Jim's voice could clearly be heard from the dropped receiver, bellowing, "I mean it, I'd better not have to come over there. I know what you're up to, but Honey, like Loretta Lynn said, 'You ain't woman enough to take My Man! Nobody takes what is MINE! Chief, get on the phone."

Blair gulped, plunked Susan down in a chair and picked up the phone. He listened to more of the diatribe.

"Chief, you get your butt back here now, on the double. Susan's pea brain has had enough fondling--".

Jim's voice lowered, "Oh, Chief, I, uh, I'm the one who needs fondling. I know how you love to fondle. Get away from that slashing woman, and stay away. She's trying to...I dunno exactly what her plan is, and I can't make head or tails out of her stories that make you laugh your head off so much ...they just don't even have a plot to 'em, and I can't find any sex in 'em, and she ain't let us kiss much yet, in fact..."

Susan jerked the phone away from Blair, caressing his hand in apology for her abruptness. "You're mistaken, Ellison. You remember very well,that I let Blair climb into your lap and kiss your facey-wacey and your chinny-chin-chin and nosey-rosey and tonguey-wungee in my Bumperstickers story! Don't you start on that!"

Jim snorted derisively.

"If," she shouted, "if you want bedroom action, be nicer to me. Or go see Patt--she does wonders with your hum-hum and Blair's cockie-wockie. Your sweet angel came over out of the goodness of his heart to help his little sister. He belongs to you, James."

"Hu..uh..." answered Ellison.

"Blair belongs to you: heart, body, soul, and mind! Now! If we've got things straightened out--you wouldn't mind if I borrowed him for a few wee minutes of the day, would you?" Susan's voice took on that wheedling, begging, you're-the-Sentinel-of-my-tribe sound, supplicating the Big Guy.

"Ver-Very well, Susan. You damn slashers. You think just because you need a personal visit from one of us for inspiration, that we're on call 24/7. We don't even have time to go camping anymore. As soon as we get packed, wham! There's a knock at the door, or bing! there's the phone or the fax from one of you!"

Jim mimmicked a pleading voice, "I need some help over here on my story line or plot or characterization, and would you please not wear underclothes...shit like that...Come at once, Emergency!"

Jim had paused for breath, now completing his own plea for understanding, continued. "Do you know how many slash writers live in Cascade? Huh? Never time for me and Blair to get to all of 'em. Some days I just wanna give up but Blair just says, 'we'll get an appointment book.'"

He sighed and Susan's heart went out to him, because, after all, she not not averse to Ellison's Charms. "I'm sending him home, now, sweetie. And I promise not to bother you any more today. Take your man away for the weekend to Cascade National Park. I'm sorry I've been so greedy."

Then Mary Sue-san began to delicately sob, wringing her hands and cutting herself with the sharpened nails, and, oh the mess she made as that blue blood dribbled onto her peignoir.

"B-blair, b-bab-y...guh...go ho-um to yer luvvin' man. I nuh-need to be alone now so I can pah-post my warnee-warnings..ah!" she bawled.

Blair got the hell out of Dodge.