by NovaD
 
 
 
Chapter Four:
Covert Ops
 
 

Blair was happy. Utterly and blissfully happy. He never could have imagined how much joy and contentment could be found in simple routine. Naomi always eschewed such a life calling it stifling. And Blair had agreed and lived most of his young life by the seat of his pants not knowing where the next day would take him or what that day would bring. But now he had discovered that stability didn't mean stifling and that routine didn't mean rut.

Blair had made the transition from grad student to detective and already gained a department-wide reputation for talking suspects into submission -- if only to get away from him. It was fun and gratifying to share his knowledge of people with other detectives more openly and help them solve cases. And since he had cut his hair and the publicity about his scandal had long faded, Blair found that he was fitting in and even making friends outside of Major Crimes.

And the most wonderful and surprising thing was that he was teaching again -- well, tutoring. It seems that the scandal hadn't affected his reputation as a teacher. He got referrals from Rainier and from Cascade Community College. That was very satisfying for Blair. He enjoyed teaching so much, even if it was on a micro-scale. Thus, the Guide was healthy, happy and thriving in his new routine.

This state of well-being was eventually communicated through the dense skull of Jim Ellison. Once the truth of his lover's state of happiness sunk in, Jim relaxed. He let go of the guilt over wanting Blair with him almost to the exclusion of everything else. He accepted that it was not his fault that Blair gave up his career. He finally believed that Blair was happy in his job and very happy with him. That's when the routine also included them being together as well as working cases.

Being together didn't just mean making love although there was a whole lot of that. Blair was constantly surprised at how intense their lovemaking continued to be. His heart still hammered whenever Jim caught him in that soft warm gaze that meant he was about to be kissed. Those kisses or most times just thinking about those kisses took his breath and made him hard. His body still sang when his Sentinel laid those talented hands on him. He still marveled how such a big, powerful body could be so gently and so vulnerable. Their lovemaking had a routine at times, but Blair would never dream of calling it a rut. It still surprised him how far along Jim would get in prepping him for penetration before Blair woke up enough to enjoy the ride. He trusted the big cop enough not to even stir until the man was already tip-deep inside him.

Being together meant that they had achieved an intimate companionship that satisfied Blair on an emotional and psychological level. Jim was nowhere near as talkative and open with his feelings as Blair was, but some of the barriers had been breached allowing the Guide to be more in tune than ever with his Sentinel. Somehow, Jim opened up enough for Blair to intuit what his lover was feeling if not what he was thinking. That intimacy made Blair relax and let go of his remaining fears.

In retrospect, Blair realized that perhaps he should have remembered not to ever get too relaxed or blissfully happy. That's when little phrases like Task Force took over his life. It was a necessary thing. There had been six rape-murders in the newly gentrified area of downtown Cascade over a fourteen month period. The perp left very little of consequence. He used a condom and cleaned up after himself. Jim muttered a lot about too many criminals watching the Discovery Channel. Even Jim was only able to pick up an occasional hair or fiber that was common to a few of the crime scenes. Blair wasn't surprised when Jim was appointed head of the Task Force. He had found the only evidence linking what were thought to be unrelated homicides. And he was the ranking detective. Their involvement was the right thing to do.

Blair felt the impact on their relationship almost immediately. There was another victim ten days after the Task Force was formed. Despite all logic, Jim took the murder personally. The long hours on stake outs in the victims' neighborhood making it difficult for them to really decompress and to allow Blair to really take care of Jim. It was disheartening because Blair eventually recognized the pattern. Jim would gradually withdrawal then get hostile as the only release for the stress. That would make Blair withdrawal in frustration and anger. The Guide feared for their relationship and for their performance on the case. There had to be a way to stop this from happening. He simply refused to let go of the intimacy that had grown between them.

All of these troubled thoughts coalesced in Blair's mind late one night after a fourteen hour day. He was lying next to a fitfully sleeping Jim just hours after they got home. There had to be a way to keep his lover open to him. It was especially crucial since he really believed that the case depended on Jim letting go of his stress and focusing. The Sentinel reminded him of a frustrated bloodhound pacing one area and howling because he couldn't find his prey. The investigation had ground to a near halt after two months. They'd stopped canvassing the area. Many on the team believed that the answer was staring them all in the face. It was making Jim even more frustrated.

A thought occurred to him that made Blair smile, but he nearly dismissed the idea. He didn't know if he could handle a rejection from Jim on this, nor was he certain that it would work. It could be a disaster distracting the Sentinel even more than he was at that moment. His training was of little use at that time. Sometimes, Blair swore that the Mistress was some sort of twisted Yoda or a kinky Vorlon. If he asked her about it, she would say something like "your wants and his will be on the same plane," or "what he most needs, you will want." Blair sighed. She might as well have said "if it feels good, do it." He had to trust something though and there was one thing that Jim responded to even in the days when he had no Guide. He had to trust in his own abilities for both of their sakes. Blair leaned down to kiss Jim gently then snuggled against him for the few hours they had left of the night.

 Jim was startled by the alarm clock. And he was confused. If Blair was anywhere near him as he awoke, they would be fully engaged and on the way to orgasm. Jim went still. Where was Blair? He wasn't even in the loft. When he sat up, Jim spotted the envelope on Blair's pillow.

"Is he crazy? There is no way he can think we can do this now," Jim thought even as he picked it up. His hands were trembling. The reasons that this was a terrible idea were howling through his mind even as he opened the envelope and carefully smoothed out the paper on the bed. It was spectacularly dangerous for their case and their careers. Why was he breathing so hard at the thought of the Commander taking control of him?

The orders were for specialized training while under fire to begin that day and for an indefinite duration. Jim was to prepare as always for training: cleansing inside and out; stretching and relaxation exercises; food. The equipment list made his breathing quicken even as his mind renewed its protests: nipple clamps, butt plug, dildos, soft restraints, blindfold, gag. He was to drop the equipment and a few changes of clothes at a hotel on the edge of the task force's perimeter then meet Blair at the station they'd been using for headquarters. The Commander was operating in Covert Ops mode. He was not to use that title unless he and Blair were absolutely alone. Jim carefully folded the paper then put it back in its envelope.

"He's insane," he muttered. It was not wise, yet Jim found himself becoming intrigued with the logistics of pulling off this training in plain sight. He rose from the bed and began to stretch without really thinking about why he didn't just refuse the training. By the time he finished the stretching and breathing exercises, Jim was a lot calmer. The rest of the preparations were made with practiced ease.

The hotel was an all-suite facility used by business travelers because of the proximity to the airport. It was minutes from the task force HQ. There was a key waiting for him at the desk. The comfortable, functional room was given some personality with fat, fragrant candles positioned throughout the bedroom and bathroom. Their favorite toiletries and massage oils were on the bathroom vanity along with big natural bath sponges.

Jim found another envelope on the dresser next to the television. Inside, there was a memo, a cockring and several lengths of thin leather.
 

Use the cockring and leathers to conceal that erection. No one is to know of your attributes but me.


Jim found that he needed to do the deep breathing exercises to keep from coming right then. It took a lot of focus and concentration to ease the size of his attribute enough to tie it down effectively. He then quickly put away his clothes and equipment.

As he drove the short distance from the hotel to work, Jim discovered that just knowing the Commander was waiting for him centered his mind and relaxed him more than he had been in days. He actually looked forward to work, and even began to feel confident about breaking the case.

The two room office in the waterfront precinct was abuzz with activity. There was a lot of chatter from the phones and noise from office machines. Jim tuned into his Guide and was excited to find the Commander's serenity and appraisal in those large, dark blue eyes. The Guide smiled, but the Commander's eyes were watchful.

"Hey, Jim. You get everything done?"

Jim nodded. "Yes. Everything is in place."

They got down to work. There had been no attacks for five days. Previous gaps of varying length had occurred before which had kept the Cascade PD from determining that it was the same perp until Jim discovered the hairs. That day, the task force was once again trying to find more common elements between the victims in the hopes that would lead them to the attacker before he could kill again. Things were getting tense amongst the officers because they were nearing the maximum amount of time between murders. Time was running out.

After a few hours, Blair tossed his pencil on the desk. "I've been over it every way I can think of. The only thing these women had in common is that each of them took a plane trip within days or weeks of their deaths. None of them took the same airline."

Jim considered that for a moment. "Maybe it's something to do with the airport itself -- the personnel there."

Blair pursed his lips in thought. "That's such a huge place and the terminals are scattered. It had to be someplace where the contact was sustained enough for the perp to get a name and address."

"Like an airport limo service or a garage," Jim said.

"Rafe could you find out if any of the victims drove to the airport or took a car service."

"I know... which car service and if they drove, which garage," Rafe muttered.

"Thanks," Jim said sincerely.

Rafe nodded then headed for the phones. Blair returned to scouring the data and the street grids. Jim grew restless. They were doing solid police work, but he was concerned that they weren't moving fast enough. He didn't think he could face another interview with a victim's family.

"Jim, can we talk a minute?" Blair asked quietly.

The Detective met his lover's eyes then swallowed hard. "Yes, of course."

Jim followed Blair to a small office which was used for very sensitive phone calls. Blair locked the door behind them.

"Sit down," he said softly. "Rest your arms on the arms of the chair."

"Yes, Commander," Jim sighed.

Blair quickly straddled Jim pressing him into the chair with one hand on his left shoulder. He opened Jim's shirt then reached beneath the tank top undershirt from above. He hissed as the nipple clamp bit down on his hardened nipple.

"It won't show through your shirts. I'll only do one side," Blair whispered. "You're fighting me. Don't you want the pleasure? Don't you need the release I can offer you?"

"Yes," Jim choked out. His restricted erection was becoming more uncomfortable.

"Take control of that cock then," Blair commanded.

"Y-yes, Commander.

Jim took a shaky breath. The effort was almost derailed by Blair's scent. But those amazing, serene eyes had a calming affect. Then there was the promise of things to come. Jim did not want to push Blair into denying him those pleasures. He dared not think about them at all. Instead, he focused on the pain and his breathing. Within a few moments, the discomfort eased.

Blair nodded with a small smile. "Very good. Keep yourself open to me. At any moment, I could take you aside."

Blair stood.

"Fix your clothes and remember what I've just said."

"Yes, Commander," Jim replied.

By the time they were back with the rest of the task force, Jim and Blair were embroiled in another theory.

"I really believe that the gaps in the killings are significant," Blair said.

"So do I, Chief, but all it might mean is that the impulse was diminished for a while," Jim countered.

"I'm not so sure. What if something about our guy's employment prevented him from acting on impulse?" Blair wondered.

Jim was about to respond when Brown signaled them.

"We've got a janitor who's worked in two of the victim's buildings. He got fired because someone complained about his strange behavior," Brown said. "That would be victim number two."

"Where is he now?" Jim asked.

"No one has seen him in a week. He's about to get fired from the current gig for the no-shows," Brown replied.

"We'll have to put someone on his building," Jim said. "But links to only two victims isn't enough. H, see if there are connections to any others. Chief, you want to take first watch in the van with me?"

"Sure."

Watson and Domingues will take over when they come on in six hours," Jim said. "If we haven't caught him."

"Rafe and I will take over after that."

"Call if you get anything," Jim said. "Let's go, Chief."

 The van was a loaner from the FBI. Jim figured that it was not just a gesture of interagency cooperation. He figured that it was in some part an apology for all the fake agents and real agents who had harassed them over the years. And the van was amazing. It had a periscope with regular and infrared cameras that had the ability to record on video tape and on disk. The chassis had stabilizers that kept it from moving with the occupants inside -- a feature that intrigued him. Color monitors were everywhere. Both entrances to the complex were visible via the periscope and they would hear everything.

Blair brought a snacks and a thermos of coffee. Since the brilliant vehicle also had a lavatory, they were set until relief arrived. Jim heard the door lock behind him as he took a seat in front of the monitors. Then, there was a rustle of bags while the provisions were put away in the handy mini-fridge.

"Want some coffee or water?"

"No thanks."

"Okay."

The next thing Jim knew he was being strapped into the high backed chair with a canvass belt around his waist. The buckle was that of a seat belt.

"Keep your eyes on the monitors," the Commander said softly.

"Yes."

His wrists were secured with the same kind of strips.

"I can free one arm with a little pull. You can be ready for action in seconds. You will keep your eyes on those screens. Nothing will be neglected. I just want to enjoy you."

"Yes, Commander."

Blair loosened the belt long enough to open Jim's pants and shirt freeing his cock. Jim hadn't worn underwear. He didn't think it would be comfortable with the cock ring and leather ties.

"I've always wanted to have you when you are your most powerful," he said softly. "The super cop whose cock is enslaved to me."

To Jim's relief, the Commander unclamped his nipple then released his tortured erection.

"Don't close your eyes. Stay focused. I want your lips so much right now. I wanted them in the precinct. You need to be kissed, but you cannot be distracted from your watch," the Commander murmured while gently soothing his genitals.

Jim swallowed. He wanted to close his eyes and fall into the caress. This was harder to endure than the strap in some ways. At least with that he could let go and scream.

"I'd really love to spread you across your desk and paddle that beautiful ass right in front of Simon and all of Major Crimes," he said quietly. "You want them to know that I won you. I know this is true, James. You'd wear my collar if I let you, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he groaned. "Yes, Commander."

"I wish I could let you wear it," the Commander admitted. The tone in his voice intrigued him, but he kept his eyes forward and focused on the entrances of the apartment building. "Even though most believe that Jim and Blair are a couple, there are still those who encroach on what is mine. But we must be discreet -- and besides..."

Jim felt Blair's velvety tongue on the tip of his penis. "You know where you belong."

"Yesssss...." Jim hissed.

Then Jim was truly between heaven and hell as the Commander sucked greedily on his cock while his eyes and mind tried to stay on the monitors. It was the same helplessness as being restrained spread eagle and bound to the bed blindfolded. The amazing feeling of the hot wet suction was coupled with fear that it may be ended before he reached climax. He wished he could watch the Commander pleasuring him this way. He'd never done that during training before.

Just as he was about to lose it entirely, Blair pulled away from the now painfully hard erection to press his lips to the side of Jim's moist forehead.

"I'll watch now. I've got you," he whispered. "Let go, now."

Blair stroked him. His head was pressed next to Jim's. His eyes were on the monitors. It was too much. Jim's eyes slid closed then his whole body shuddered with the orgasm. As he fought to breath normally, Jim felt Blair gently clean him with a damp cloth while he still watched the screens. Then, the straps were released.

"Go get some water. I'll take over."

"Yes, Commander," Jim said. His voice sounded like sandpaper. Somehow, he actually managed to move.

Blair slipped into the chair as soon as Jim vacated it. After rearranging his clothes, he took a seat beside the Commander and sipped the bottled water. He leaned in closer while still drinking to soak up some of his Commander's serenity. In response, he was pulled even closer and his head pulled to the younger man's shoulder.

"You're doing fine," Blair murmured petting Jim's hair. "We're doing fine."

The Sentinel felt himself drifting back to normal. He felt proud and more in control than he did at the office.

The cell phone rang and he was surprised at how clear and normal his voice sounded when he answered it.

"Ellison."

What he heard made him sigh heavily. "Thanks, H. We'll take back the van."

"What's happened?"

"The janitor was found in a dumpster behind some water front dive," Jim replied. "There goes our only real lead."

Blair tilted Jim's face up. He gently stroked his lips. "Let's take the van back."

"What about the provisions?"

"We can drop them off at the hotel on the way," Blair said. "I'll drive. You review the files."

Jim nodded. In ten minutes, they were underway. Blair was silent leaving Jim to work. He looked again at the arrest records of the janitor. There was check fraud, theft by deception and extortion, but nothing for any sort of violence. The only thing that he had in common with the victims was employment at the two complexes.

"Chief, I don't think this guy was the type to get that violent so late in his career," Jim said with a frown. "But I'm beginning to think he may have been a witness."

"Witness?"

"He was convicted twice for extortion. He was working at two buildings where the crimes occurred."

"Then, he turns up dead," Blair said. "But you know what this means."

"Yeah. He's back from wherever," Jim replied. "We're out of time."

They were quiet the rest of the trip to the hotel. Jim prowled in front of the windows while Blair put away the food and made room service reservations for a real meal later. The Sentinel's eyes settled upon the building diagonally across from the hotel.

"Have we gotten answers about how the victims got to and from the airport?" He asked.

"No." Blair already had the cell phone out. "Hey, Rafe. You got that info on how the victims got to the airport? Really? Thanks, man. Well, that explains that."

"Chief?"

"Two of the victims didn't own cars, but none of the others who drove took their cars to the airport," Blair said. "Rafe did find out that they all took the same airport shuttle. The one at the garage across the street."

It didn't take very long after that. Within ten minutes after they barreled out of the room, they had one common element with all of the victims -- a flight attendant named Larry Denon. A half an hour later the team was bursting into his apartment. There they found ticket stubs from a flight he'd worked three days prior. A white pages phone book was open nearby.

"He looked them up in the phonebook," Blair said incredulously. "I've got the address."

This time, they were in time. Denon was slinking down the hallway of the intended victim when the posse overran him. Blair interviewed the shocked woman at the end of the hall and found out that Denon had called about her leaving her purse on the plane. The suspect had it and a search of his home revealed even more items from women who'd likely rode in the shuttle with him at some point.

The suspect was processed for arraignment scheduled for the next day. Jim and Blair and the team handed in their paperwork a few hours later so the Police Chief could address the media. Rafe and Brown and the others were up for a drink or forty. Jim looked about with uncertainty. His ears were on fire. He was certain for one terrifying moment that everyone could see the need naked on his face.

"Why don't we buy a round tomorrow night," Blair said from behind him. "Jim and I have to debrief Simon first thing in the morning. And this will be the first good night's sleep in a while."

The task force murmured agreement. Some yawned it. Blair pushed his partner gently out the door then drove straight to the hotel. Jim hoped his legs weren't as wobbly as they felt.

 "Shower," the Commander said softly as he slid the dead bolt in place. "Light the candles in the bathroom."

"Yes, Commander."

Jim took a thorough and efficient shower in the candle lit bathroom. When he finished drying off, Jim took a few deep cleansing breaths and went into the bedroom. Blair had lit the candles and set out some sandwiches and beer. He had his robe draped over his arm.

"Relax and have something to eat while I shower," he said.

"Yes, Commander."

Jim didn't feel especially hungry, but he didn't want to disobey so close to getting what he needed. After he nibbled at one of the mini sandwiches though, he found he wanted another. It made him feel a little less shaky.

The shower stopped just as he finished eating. A little while later, Blair was standing before him with damp hair and a wicked look on his face.

"On your haunches in the center of the bed," the Commander murmured. "Hands behind your back." He retrieved something from the dresser drawer then moved behind Jim.

He felt the heavy leather collar of the harness fastened around his neck. The thick leather strap was cool against his spine. The Commander fastened his wrists together at the base of his spine.

"So powerful and yet so helpless for me," he said softly in wonder. "I loved having you like that today. But one thing was missing..."

Jim was puzzled until the Commander was in front of him gently tilting up his face. The kiss was deep and slow. The Commanders heart was hammering fast and his breathing had become more shallow. Despite enjoying the lips and tongue feasting on his mouth, Jim was vaguely concerned. It was the same sort of physical response Blair had when he was in pain. The kiss was ended a little breathlessly by his tormentor.

"I've wanted that kiss all day," he confided. "But then there are so many times I've wanted to kiss you at work... to make you feel better or to tease you mercilessly."

The Commander gasped clearly in pain. Jim looked alarmed, but Blair smoothed his brow with his warm moist palm.

"Don't worry, Blessed Protector," he whispered. "What's wrong can be soothed easily."

The Commander removed his robe then laid back on the pillows. His cock was tied much like Jim's was and the erection looked quite painful wrapped in the wet leather.

"How could I expect you to show control if I could not," he offered by way of an explanation. "Take it off with your teeth. Then sooth my skin, love."

"Yes, Commander!"

The wet leather bow was a little difficult, but once loose, the strand unwound easily. But the skin was deeply bruised. The Commander moaned in relief as Jim worked over the angry skin with his tongue. It had been so long since he'd tasted his love like this. Jim had to force himself to move slowly and not swallow him whole before he had permission.

"That's it... oh yeah..." the Commander panted. His erection grew longer and harder. Jim craved more of it.

Then there was a hand in his hair gently grasping urging him to sit up. "I want to fuck you now. Turn around and give me that ass."

"Yes, Commander."

Blair had many ways of making love to Jim. The Commander, however, was fucking him, pounding him into bed as he used him like a rent boy. Jim's face was buried in the blankets and his shoulders kept sliding, so it was an effort to keep his pelvis arched so the Commander could have his pleasure. He couldn't meet the thrusts nor could he tend to his own aching cock. His only choice was to keep it up and available. Just before he got a fabric burn, the Commander stiffened and came with a growl.

Moments later, after the Commander withdrew and got his breath, Jim felt the harness being unbuckled.

"I'm going to take a soak. Clean up at the vanity. Come if you like."

He disappeared into the bathroom before Jim could respond. The Sentinel was slower to get off the bed. He didn't want to jack off. Not while he was alone. His cock just wasn't interested. En route to the sink, he spotted the envelope on the dresser.
 

In-service training has been satisfactorily completed.  Return to normal duty and await further instructions.
 
Jim quickly cleaned up, put away the harness then slid under the covers. Sometime later, he heard Blair moving about extinguishing the candles and checking the locks. Soon, he was snuggled in Jim's arms yawning.
"Great job, Jim. Simon will be proud."
"You too, Chief."
They drifted asleep.

Blair awoke with the most beautiful eyes gazing down at him. Those blue eyes were filled with wonder, love and not a little bit of lust. As that mouth descended on his, Blair remembered that he was happy. Blissfully happy.

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