Work Text:
Black Panther
by Gina Jones
"Remind me again, Chief, as to why we are here?" The sentinel asked his
guide as they lumbered through the over-crowded, smoke-filled, noisy casino.
"Uh, Simon ordered us to come to Las Vegas?" Blair ventured, shrugging his
shoulders in amazement at the diversity of the gamblers that surrounded them.
"But did we have to agree to an extra two days, for R & R?" Jim's voice
sounded every bit like the tired, testy detective that he was.
Blair pulled Jim toward a somewhat deserted alcove of Harrah's and then
pushed the taller man against a wall. "Listen," he stated, his voice low,
"Simon thought we needed some time off, and since we were coming out here
for the conference, he figured it was as good an opportunity he was going
to get. He had our best interests in mind."
"But, Vegas?" Jim asked, petulantly. "The noises, the smoke, the lights..."
"Getting whiny," Blair commented, "Your senses are on overload, aren't they?"
Jim sighed and then nodded, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry," he muttered.
Glancing around the immediate vicinity, Blair placed his palm along Jim's
cheek and whispered, "It's okay, Love. I understand. Why don't you go up
to the room and take a nap?"
Jim, eyes still closed, nodded again. "You'll come up with me?" he asked,
hopefully. A hint of a smile appeared on his face.
Blair grinned, too. "Soon, Lover," Blair responded, leaning into the
embrace that was now welcoming him. When Jim opened his eyes in curiosity,
Blair continued, "Let me just finish these quarters up and then I'll be
there." He shook the half-filled change bucket as he pulled away from the
sentinel.
"Do you still think your luck is going to change, Darwin?" Jim prodded,
knowing that lady luck had been far from kind to them, that afternoon.
Grinning widely, Blair answered, "Oh, I'm sure it will, Jim." His eyes
then turned smokey as he added, "As soon as I'm upstairs, I have no doubt
my luck will be good."
Jim guffawed at the comment and gave his guide a chaste kiss while no one
was looking. Chuckling, he turned and made his way through the crowd
toward the hotel elevators.
Blair watched him move away, and sighed, contentedly. "Yes, James, I'm
sure my luck will be very good, indeed."
**
Half an hour later, his bucket nearly empty, Blair Sandburg roamed the
table games and rows upon rows of one-armed bandits. "After a while," he
mused to himself, "these things all begin to look the same." He was about
to throw the last of his coins into a progressive slot machine when he
heard a sound that shook him nearly to the core.
"Jim?" he whispered, wondering if he was finally succumbing to the sensory
overload of the gaudy Vegas Strip, as well. He had definitely heard a
cat's roar, and it was an eerily familiar sound...a sound from his visions of
he and Jim's spirit animals.
He heard the sound again, less startling than before and determined that it
came from a side room, to the left of the main casino. Walking slowly
toward the less populated area of the building, he heard the noise once
more. This time he was able to pinpoint where it was coming from.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered staring at the brightly decorated
electronic game. "The Black Panther," he said as he read the name of the
particular game. He chuckled, staring at the machine, studying its
features. "If only Jim was here to see this." Peering into the plastic
container that held what was left of his 'play money' as he called it, and
realizing he had just enough for one play, he sat down in front of the
machine and said, "What the Hell." He placed his last five quarters into
the machine and held his hand above the play button.
Not knowing exactly what the rules of this game were, he decided it was
some sort of mutated slot machine, with three lines of figures, each five
columns wide. Instead of the usual sevens or bars, this game contained
nines through Kings, as well as devils, dice, and yes, black
panthers. Pressing the button, he watched as the colorful screen changed
before him, revealing his �'spin', as it were. Before he could decipher
what the results had been, the mechanical roar assaulted his hearing as he
watched dumbfounded as three panthers appeared on the screen, their eyes
twinkling, and the credit line showing that he now had over 240.
A shiver ran down Blair's spine as he looked at the screen before
him. Shaking his head in wonder, his brain realized that it had just been
coincidence that he had finally won a game and that the game had been
called the Black Panther. His heart, on the other hand, was far from
convinced. Pressing the 'max play' button, he decided to test his theory.
When nothing happened on the second spin, he snorted at his own silliness
in thinking, for even a minute, that he had won because of Jim's spirit
guide. Still he could not help himself when his hand pressed the 'max
play' button, once again.
**
Jim yawned and stretched as he awoke from his nap. Peering over at the
bedside alarm clock he was surprised to see that a full three hours had
elapsed since he had left Blair downstairs. Immediately on alert, and
knowing his partner's penchant for trouble, he quickly donned his sneakers,
grabbed his room key card, and left, in search of his guide.
When he reached the casino level of the hotel, his sentinel abilities
kicked in, searching for any side of his lover. Filtering out the
cacophony of sounds that assaulted him, he homed in on his guide's
heartbeat, noting worriedly that it was drumming at a faster pace than
normal. Hastening his steps, he quickly approached the dimly lit wing of
the casino, wondering what had happened to upset Blair.
As he neared his guide, Jim also noted the raspy breathing and muttered
comments flowing from Blair's mouth. Jumping into 'Blessed Protector'
overload, he uttered apologies to the three elderly women he nearly knocked
over, and stood beside Blair within seconds, his own heart racing out of
fear and concern. "Blair?" he cried, seeing the stunned look on his
lover's face, then dropped his volume lower, "Honey?" he asked, worriedly.
Blair finally responded, his voice also low, but filled with awe and
wonder. "Jim, you can't believe what has been happening!"
Realizing that his mate was not in immediate danger, Jim began to relax,
somewhat, noticing for the first time, the area surrounding the machine
Blair was playing. Haphazardly stacked, one upon another, were ten, no,
eleven, buckets filled with silvery coins. "Blair?" he asked, confused,
"What's all this?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" Blair's voice regained its lilt that
signified he was excited. "This game! I mean, oh man! Look!" he uttered,
"Look!" He pointed to the lettering atop the machine and waited for his
sentinel to grasp the irony.
"Black Panther?" Jim read out loud. "Really?" Smiling he looked back at
Blair and added, "That nice Sandburg, but what's so exciting?"
Exasperated, Blair explained, "Jim. Lover. This machine called to me. I
can't really explain it, but..." he dropped his voice and looked around him
suspiciously, "it won't let me lose!"
"Blair," Jim chastised, his grin turning to a frown and his eyes glaring,
good-naturedly. "It's just a game."
"Jim," Blair coaxed, refusing to give up, "after all we've been through,
after all we've seen, you can just dismiss this? It's like sentinel karma,
here, Man! I mean, a black panther, *with* winking *blue* eyes, and I'm
over $500.00 richer? Jim! Come on!"
"I think you've been down here too long," the older man commented, taking
Blair's arm and pulling him into a standing position. Gathering up a few
buckets of coins, he handed them off to Blair and then took the rest,
himself. "Come on, Chief, let's go cash these in, and get some fresh
air. I think the smoke and noise has finally gotten to you."
"But, Jim!" Blair cried as he followed the exiting sentinel to the
cashier's counter. "Jim!" he wailed, pitifully.
And behind them a panther's growl was soon joined by the laughter of a
mystical shaman named Incacha.
The End